N; iir^^i^^ /lui:^^l^^ fuy^ Fmnlhpiece. ^ y /L It" SCARLET BORDER EDITION. COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS N; KJ 7.^ .K "Walter Scott. WITH ALL THE AUTHOr's INTRODUCTIONS AND BIOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL NOTES. TOGETHER WITH HIS FOOTNOTES EXPLANATORY OF THE TEXT. TO WHICH IS ADDED AN INTERESTING LIFE OF THE POET. WITH Engraved by G. P.Williams, \ PHILADELPHIA: WILLIAM T. AMIES, No. 1420 Chestnut Street. A "iT V M tv Copyright, George R. Fagan. 1S78. COU-INS PRINTING HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA. ^ "s PUBL ISHER 'S A NNO UNCEMENT. Ix issuing the present ''Scarlet Border Edition" of the Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, the Publisher believes the Volume to contain a much more complete Collection of his Poetry than has ever before appeared. In addition to the great Metrical Romances, and the Miscellaneous Pieces now given, the book includes the Songs and Fragments scattered over the author's Novels, and vari- ous Specimens, both Serious and Comic, which were originally printed in his Memoirs. Tlie main object in the present Collection has been to adhere to the original productions of Sir Walter. The old parts, therefore, of the Romance of Sir Tristrem are not given, nor the Contributions to the Minstrelsy by other pens than that of the great author. The references to the Life of Sir Walter Scott apply to the Second English Edition, 1839, The Author's longer Notes, so rich in historical and biographical interest, are given m Appendices to the several Romances and the other larger pieces ; the short notes, explanatory chiefly of ancient words and phrases, are placed at the bottom of the page. Philadelphia, July, 1878. \ y z M Portrait and Autograph of Sir Walter Scott Fi-ontispiece. Scott's Home at Abbotsford Page v. Dryburgh Abbey, the Burial-Place of Scott " xx. • The Rescued Boy The Lay of the Last Minstrel. The Meeting of King James, Lord Marmion, and Angus . . Marmion. ^■Marmion's Escape from the Castle Gate " ■Ellen and THE Aged Harper The Lady of the Lahe. Bearing the Fiery Cross " " " 'The Bronze Sentinels Vision of Don Roderick. Bertram Watching his Pursuers . .* Rokeby. The Fatal Meeting " The Warrior and the Princess The Bridal of Triennain. King Arthur and Guendolen " " " ■Bruce Meeting Isabel The Lord of the Isles. The Finding of the Ring " " " Metelill at the Fountain Harold the Dauntless. The Erl King's Victim The Erl King. ' The Lover's Flight Jock of Hazeldean. Rebecca Singing Rebecca's Hymn. Dundee Riding through the Town The Doom of Devorgoil. X A y ^^r^ V a: U ^ (^s^ *#* The Pieces marked with a dagger (f), it is beliei'ed, have not been included inany former edition of ISir Walter Scott's Poetical Woi-ks. LIFE OF SCOTT. TiiE Lay of the last minstrel Advertjsemeut to Edition 1833 Introduction to Edition 1830 Dedioaiion 14 Preface to the First Edition 160S 14 Introduction Canto I Canto II 19 Canto III 23 Canto IV 27 Canto V 32 Canto VI 37 Appendix 42 MARMION Notice to Edition 1833 Introduction to Edition 1630 Dediention Advertisement to the First Edition Introduction to Canto I.— To William Stewart Rose, Esq Canto I— The Castle Introduction to Canto II. — To the Rev. John Marriott, A. M Canto II. — The Convent Introduction to Canto III. — To William Ers- kine, Esq Canto III.— The Hostol, or Inn «. Introduction to Canto IV. — To James Skene, Esq Canto IV.— The Camp Introduction to CantoV. — To George Ellis, E-q Canto V —The Court Introduction to Canto VI. —To Richard He- ber. Esq : Canto VI —The Battle Appendix ^ 126 ^ THE LADY OF THE LAKE 157 Introduction to Edition 1830 157 Dedication 159 Argument 159 Canto I.— The Chase 159 Canto II.— The Island 166 Canto III.— The Gathering 172 Canto IV.— The r-opUecy 178 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto v.— The Combat 1S5 Canto VI.— The Ouard-Room 192 Appendix jgg THE VISION OF DON RODERICK 233 Preface 233 Dedication 234 Introduction 234 The Vision 235 Conclusion 242 Appendix < 342 ROKEBY 251 Notice to Edition 1633 251 Introduction to Edition 1830 252 Dedication ~. 254 Advertisement. ...^ 254 Canto I 2.54 Canto II „ 2eo Canto III , 2C6 Canto IV 272 Canto V 278 Canto VI 2t6 Appendix 293 THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN 321 Preface to the First Edition ., 321 Introduction 322 Canto 1 323 Canto II 3'27 Canto III 333 Conclusion... 3U Appendix 341 THE LORD OF THE ISLES 344 Notice to Edition 1833 344 Introduction to Edition 1830 344 Advertisement to the First Edition 345 Canto 1 315 Canton 350 Canto III 355 Canto IV Sei CantoV 367 Canto VI 373 Conclusion 3^ Appendix 881 VI 1 y4 l7t CONTENTS, THK FfKLD OF WATKRI.OO «0 Comlusioii 424 Appendix 425 HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS 426 IntrtMluction 427 Canto I 427 Canto II 431 Canto in 434 IV. 436 Canto V 440 Canto VI 443 Conclusion 446 CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE BORDER MIN- STRELSY. Introductory Remarks on Popular Poetry 446 Appendix 459 Easay on Imitations of tlie Ancient Ballad 461 Appendix • 474 Imitations of the Ancient Ballad. Thomas the Rhymer, Part 1 478 " " Part II 41>0 " Pan III 466 Appendix 4eS Ulentinlas; or. Lord Ronald's Coronach 491 Appendix 494 The Eve of St. John Appendix Cadyow Castle A ppendix The Gray Brother Appendix War-Soug of the Royal Edii lALl.ADS TRANSLATED OR IMITATED FROM THE GERMAN. &c 608 William and Helen....-.'.).'.;.., 5O8 The Wild Huntsman 511 The Fire-King 513 Frederick and Alice 51.5 The Battle of Sempach 5I6 The Noble Morlnger Slg t The Erl-King 52i LYRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES, (in the Order of their composition or Publication,)... 622 t Juvenile Lines. From Virgil. 1782 522 t On a Thunder Slorm 622 t On the Setting Sun 623 The Violet 5.23 To a Lady, with Flowers from a Roman Wall.... 523 t Bolhwell Castle 5.23 t The Shepherd's Tale 624 <■ Cheviot 526 ♦ The Reiver's Wedding The Bard's Incantation Hellvellyn The Dying Bai-d The Norman Horse Shoe The Maidof Toro 626 Pain 52J \ The Maid of Neid^iath 530 Page LYRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. Wandering Willie .-^30 t Health to Lord Melville, 1806 631 Hunting Song 532 The Resolve 5S2 Epitaph, designed for a Monument in Lichfield Cathedral, at the Burial-place of the family of Miss Seward 532 Prologue to Miss Baillie's Play of the Family Le- gend 633 The Poacher 533 Song—" Oh, say not, my love, with that mortitied air" 535 The Bold Dragoon I or the Plain of Badajos 538 On the Massacre of Glencoe 535 " For a' that an' a' that."~A new song to an old tune 537 Song, for the Anniversary Meeting of the Pitt Club of Scotland 5S7 Pharos Loquitur 538 Lines, addressed to Ranald Macdonald, Esq , of SlafTa 638 t Letter in Verse, on the Voyage with the Commis- sioners of Northern Lights.— To His Grace the Duke of Bucdeuch, 1814 638 VERSES FROM WAVERLEY. t Bridal Song 540 t Waverley 540 t Davie Cell alley's Song 540 t Scene in Luckie Macleary's Tavern 641 t Hie away. Hie away .'>41 t St. Swithin's Chair 541 t Davie Gellatley's Song 542 t Janet Gellatley's alleged Witchcraft 542 Flora Macivor's Song 542 t Lines on Captain Wogan..... Mi t Follow me, Follow me 644 t The Author of Waverley 544 Farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail.— From the Gaelic .144 Imitation of the preceding Song 644 War-Song of Lachlan, High Chief of Maclean.— From the Gaelic 645 Saint Cloud 546 The Dance of Death 546 Romance of Dunois 547 The Troubadour 647 From the French 54H Song, on the lifting of the Banner of the House of Bucdeuch, at a great Foot-Ball Match on Car- terhaugh 545 Lullaby of an Infant Chief 543 FROM CUY MANNERING Songs of Meg Merrilies— t Nativity of Harry Bertram 649 t Twist ye, Twine ye 549 t The Dying Gipsey Smuggler W.! t The Prophecy t Sont,s of Dick Hatteraick and Glossiu 54H N; ^ \ Page LVRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. Thi- Return to Ulster 550 Jnck of Hailedean 550 I'lbroch of Donald Dhu 551 Nora's Vow 551 Macgregor's Gathering 553 Verse* composed for the occasion, and sung by a select band, after the Dinner given by the Lord Provost of Edinburgh to the Grand Duke Nich- olaa of Russia and his Suite, igth Decemlier, 1616 56S FROM THE ANTIQUARY. t Time 552 t Epitaph OD Jon o' ye Girnell 553 t Elspeth's Ballad 553 t Mottoes In the AatJquary, 1—20 5i3 FROM THE BLACK DWARF. t Mottoes, 1, 2 .555 FROM OLD MORTALITY. t Major Bellenden's Song 555 t Verses found ia Botbwell's Pockel-Book 555 t Epitaph on Balfour of Burley 556 t Mottoes, 1,2,3 556 The Search after Happiness ; or. The Quest of SuJtauu SoJimaun 556 Mr. Kemble's FareweU Address on taking leave of the Edinburgh Stage 560 Lijies writ ten for MLss Smith -< •• 560 The Sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill 561 The Monks of Bangor's March 561 t Letter to his Grace the Bute of Buccleich 502 FROM ROB ROY. t To the Memory of Edward the Black Prince.... 56i t Translation from Ariosto 562 t Mottoes, 1—7 563 Epilogue to The Appeal 563 Mackrimmon's Lacaent 564 DoaaJdCaird's Come agaiu 564 FROM THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN t Madge WUdtire's Songs 565 t Mottoes, 1—7 566 FROM THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR. t Lucy .\shIoa's Song 566 t Norman, the Forester's Song i 566 t The Prophecy 567 t Mottoes, 1— « 367 FROM THE LEGEND OF MONTROSE. t AiH-ieut Gaelic Melody 567 t The Orphan Maid 567 Mottoes, 1, 2, 3 oC8 Page LYRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. FROM IVANHOE. t The Crusader's Return f.6^ t The Barefooted Friar StX t Saxon War-Song 6w regret, with Bulwer, that he refused *'to enter into that chamber in the magic palace of literature in which the sublimest relics of antiquity are stored." He knew generally, but not critically, the German, French, Italian, and Spanish languages. He was an insatiable reader, and during a long illness in his youth, store«l his mind with a vast variety of miscellaneous knowledge. Komances were among his chief favorites, and he had great facility in inventing and telling stories. He also collected ballads from his earliest years. Scott was apprenticed to his father as a writer, after which he studied for the bar, and put on his gown in his twenty-first year. His health was now vigorous and robust, and he made frequent excursions into the country, which he pleasantly denominated raids. The knowledge of rural life, character, tradi- tions, and anecdotes, which he picked up in these rambles, formed afterwards a valuable mine to him, both as a poet and novelist. His manners were easy and agreeable, and he was always a wel- ."come guest. Scott joined the Tory party ; and when the dread of an invasion agitated the country, he became one of a band of volunteers, " brothers true," in which he held the rank of quarter- master. His exercises as a cavalry officer, and the jovial ties of the mess-room, occupied much of his time ; but he still pursued, though irregularly, his literary studies, and an attachment to a Perthshire lady — though ultimately unfortunate — tended still more strongly to prevent his sinking into idle frivolity or dissipa- tion. Henry Mackenzie, the "Man of Feeling," had introduced a taste for German literature into the intellectual classes of his native city, and Scott was one of its most eager and ardent votaries. In 1796 he published translations of Burger's Lenore and The Wild Hunlsman, ballads of singular wildness and power. Next year, while fresh from his first love disappointment, he was prepared, like Romeo, to " take some new infection (o iiis eye," and ^ . meeting at Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland, with a young y ^ --\ 7^ \ lady of French parentage, Charlotte Margaret Carpenter, he paid his addresses to her, was accepted, and married on the 24th of Deceniher. Miss Carpenter had some fortune, and the young couple retired to a cottage at Lasswade, where they seem to have enjoyed sincere and unalloyed happiness. The ambition of Scott was now fairly wakened — his lighter vanities all blown away. ][is life henceforward was one of severe but cheerful study and application. In 1799, appeared his translation of Goethe's trag- edy, Goetz von Beiiichingen, and the same year he obtained the nppointraent of sheriff of Selkirkshire, worth £300 per annum. Scott now paid a series of visits to Liddesdale, for the purpose of collecting the ballad poetry of the Border, an object in which he was eminently successful. In 1802, the result appeared in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, which contained upwards of forty l)leces never before published, and a large quantity of prose illus- tration, in which might have been seen the germ of that power which he subsequently developed in his novels. A third volume was added next year, containing some imitations of the old min- strels by the poetical editor and his friends. It required little sagacity to foresee that Walter Scott was now to be a great name in Scotland. His next task was editing the metrical romance of Sir Tristrem, supposed to be written by Thomas the Rhymer, or Thomas of Ercildoune, who flourished about the year 1280. Scott's antiquarian knowledge and poetical taste were exhib- ited in the dissertations which accompanied this work, and the imitation of the original which was added to complete the ro- mance. At length in January, 1805, appeared the Lay of the Last Minstrel, which instantly stamped him as one of the greatest of the living poets. His legendary lore, his love of the chivalrous and supernatural, and his descriptive powers, were fully brought into play; and though he afterwards improved in versatility and freedom, he achieved nothing which might not have been predicted from this first performance. His conception of the Minstrel was inimitable, and won all hearts — even those who were indifferent to the supernatural part of the tale, and opposed to the irregularity of the ballad style. The unprecedented success of the poem in- clined Scott to relax any exertions he had ever made to advance at the bar, although his cautious disposition made him at all times fear to depend over-much upon literature. He had altogether a clear income of about £1000 per annum; but his views stretched beyond this easy competence; he was ambitious of founding a 1 7 ^ \r xiv LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. ^ family that might vie with the ancient Border names he venerated, and to attain tliis, it was necessary to become a landed proprietor, and to practise a liberal and graceful ho8})itality. Well was lie fitted to adorn and dignify the character! But his ambition, though free from any tinge of sordid acquisition, proved a snare for his strong good sense and penetration. Scott and his family had gone to reside at Ashestiel, a beautiful residence on the banks of the Tweed, as it was necessary for him, in his capacity of sheriff, to live part of the year in the county of Selkirk, Shortly after the publication of the Xay, he entered into partnership with his old school-fellow, James Ballantyne, then rising into extensive business as a printer in Edinburgh. The copartnership was kept a secret, and few things in business that require secrecy are pros- perous or beneficial. The establishment, upon which was after- wards ingrafted a publishing business, demanded large advances of money, and Scott's name became mixed up with pecuniary transactions and losses to a great amount. In 1806, the powerful friends of the poet procured him the appointment of one of the })rincipal clerkships of the Court of Session, worth about £1300 per annum ; but the emoluments were not received by Scott until six years after the date of his appointment, when his predecessor died. In his share of the printing business, and the certainty of his clerkship, the poet seemed, however, to have laid up — in addition to his literary gains and his sheriffdom — an honorable and even opulent provision for liis family. In 1808, appeared his great poem of Marmion, the most magnificent of his chivalrous tales, and the same year he published his edition of Dryden. In 1810, appeared The Lady of the Lake, which was still more popu- lar than either of its predecessors ; in 1811, The Visio7i of Don Roderick ; in 1813, Bokeby, and The Bridal of Triermain; in 1814, The Lord of the Isles; in 1815, The Field of Waterloo; and in 1817, Harold the Dauntless. Some dramatic pieces, scarcely worthy of his genius, were also written during this busy period. It could not be concealed, that the later works of the Great Minstrel were inferior to his early ones. His style was now familiar, and the world had become tired of it. Byron had made his appearance, and the readers of poetry were bent on the new worship. Scott, however, was too dauntless and intrepid, and possessed of too great resources, to despond under this reverse. *' As the old mine gave symptoms of exhaustion," says Bulwer, " the new mine, ten times more affluent, at least in the precious metals, was discovered ; 4 ]^ N: ^ LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. xr ^ and just as in Rokehy and Triermain the Genius of the Ring seemed to flag in itfl powers, came the more potent Genius of the Lamp in the shape of Waverley.^' The long and magnificent seriea of his prose fictions we will not here advert to. They were poured forth even more prodigally than his verse, and for seventeen years — from 1814 to 1831 — the world hung with delight on the varied creations of the potent enchanter. Scott had now removed from his pleasant cottage at Ashestiel : the territoiial dream was about to be realized. In 1811, he purchased a hundred acres of moor- land on the banks of the Tweed, near Melrose. The neighborhood was full of historical associations, but the spot itself was bleak and bare. Four thousand pounds were expended on this purchase: and the interesting and now immortal name of Abbotsford was substituted for the very ordinary one of (hrlley Hole. Other pur- chases of land followed, generally at prices considerably above their value — Kaeside, £4100; Outfield of Toftfield, £bOOO; Toft- field, and parks, £10,000; Abbotslea, £3000; field at Langside, £500; Shearing Flat, £3500; Broomilees, £4200; Short Acres and Scrabtree Park, £700 ; etc. From these farms and pendicles was formed the estate of Abbotsford. In planting and draining, about £5000 were expended ; and in erecting the mansion-house — that " romance of stone and mortar," as it has been termed — and con- structing the garden, etc., a sum not less than £20,000 was spent. In his baronial residence the poet received innumerable visitors — princes, peers, and poets — men of all ranks and grades. His mornings were devoted to composition — for he had long practised the invaluable habit of early rising — and the rest of the day to riding among his plantations, and entertaining his guests and family. The honor of the baronetcy was conferred upon him in 1820, by George IV., who had taste enough to appreciate cor- dially his genius. Never, certainly, had literature done more for any of its countless votaries, ancient or modern. Shakspeare had retired early on an easy competency, and also become a rural squire; but his gains must have been chiefly those of the theatrical manager, not of the poet. Scott's splendor was purely the re- sult of his pen : to this he owed his acres, his castle, and his means of hospitality. His official income was but as a feather in the bal- ance. Who does not wish that the dream had continued to the end of his life? It was suddenly and painfully dissolved. The com- mercial distresses of 1825-6 fell upon publishers as on other classes, and the bankruptcy of Constable involved the poet in :^ ^ ^xvi LIFEOPSIRWALTERSCOTT. ^ losses and engagements to the amount of about £60,000. His wetilth, indeed, had been almost wholly illusory; for he had been paid for his works chiefly by bills, and these ultimately proved valueless. In the management of his publishing house, Scott's sagacity seems to have forsaken him : unsaleable works were printed in thousands ; and while these losses were yearly accumu- lating, the princely hospitalities of Abbotsford knew no check or pause. Heavy was the day of reckoning — terrible the reverse; for when the spell broke in January, 1826, it was found that, in- cluding the Constable engagements, Scott, under the commercial denomination of James Ballantyne and Co., owed £117,000. If this was a blot in the poet's scutcheon, never, it might be said, did man make nobler efforts to redeem the honor of his name. He would listen to no overtures of composition with his creditors — his only demand was for time. He ceased "doing the honors for all Scotland," sold off his Edinburgh house, and taking lodgings there, labored incessantly at his literary tasks. "The fountain was awakened from its inmost recesses, as if the spirit of affliction had troubled it in his passage." In four years he had realized for his creditors no less than £70,000. English literature presents two memorable and striking events' which have never been paralleled in any other nation. The first is, Milton advanced in years, blind, and in misfortune, entering upon the composition of a great epic that was to determine his future fame, and hazard the glory of his country in competition with what had been achieved in the classic ages of antiquity. The counterpart to this noble picture is Walter Scott, at nearly the same age, his private affairs in ruin, undertaking to liquidate, by intellectual labors alone, a debt of £117,000. Both tasks may be classed with the moral sublime of life. Glory, pure and un- sullied, was the ruling aim and motive of Milton ; honor and integrity formed the incentives to Scott. Neither shrunk from the steady prosecution of his gigantic self-imposed labor. But years rolled on, seasons returned and passed away, amidst public cares and private calamity, and the pressure of increasing infirmities, ere the seed sown amidst clouds and storms was white in the field. In six years Milton had realized the object of his hopes and prayers by the completion of Paradise Lost. His task was done; the field of glory was gained ; he held in his hand his passport to immortality. In six years Scott had nearly reached the goal of his ambition. He had ranged the wide fields of romance, and the ^ am A V N- r LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. xvii > . public had liberally rewarded their illustrious favorite. The ulti- mate prize was within view, and the world cheered him on, eagerly- anticipating his triumph ; but the victor sank exhausted on the course. He had spent his life in the struggle. The strong man was bowed down, and his living honor, genius, and integrity, were extinguished by delirium and death. In February, 1830, Scott had an attack of paralysis. He con- tinued, however, to write several hours every day. In April, 1831, he suffered a still more severe attack ; and he was prevailed upon, as a means of withdrawing him from mental labor, to undertake a foreign tour. The Admiralty furnished a ship of war, and the poet sailed for Malta and Naples. At the latter place he resided from the 17ih of December, 1831, to the 16th of April following. He still labored at unfinished romances, but his mind was in ruins. From Naples the poet went to Rome. On the 11th of May, he began his return homewards, and reached Loudon on the 13th of June. Another attack of apoplexy, combined with paralysis, had laid prostrate his powers, and he was conveyed to Abbotsford a helpless and almost unconscious wreck. He lingered on for some time, listening occasionally to passages read to him from the Bible, and from his favorite author Crabbe. Once he tried to write, but his fingers would not close upon the pen. He never spoke of his literary labors or success. At times his imagination was busy preparing for the reception of the Duke of Wellington at Abbotsford ; at other times he was exercising the functions of a Scottish judge, as if presiding at the trial of members of his own family. His mind never appeared to wander in its delirium towards those works which had filled all Europe with his fame. This we learn from undoubted authority, and the fact is of interest in literary history. But the contest was soon to be over ; " the plough was nearing the end of the furrow." " About half-past one, P.M.," says Mr. Lockhart, "on the 21st of September, 1832, Sir Walter breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day — so warm that every window was wide open — and so perfectly still that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes." Call it not vain ; they do not err Who say, that when the poet dies, \ Mute nature mourns her worshipper, . ^ And celebrates his obsequies; ^r ^ xviii LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. > 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 groans reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave. Lay of the Last Minstrel. The novelty and originality of Scott's style of poetry, though exhausted by himself, and debased by imitators, formed his first passport to public favor and applause. The English reader had to go back to Spenser and Chaucer ere he could find so knightly and chivalrous a poet, or such paintings of antique manners and institutions. The works of the elder worthies were also obscured by a dim and obsolete phraseology; while Scott, in expression, setUiment, and description, could be read and understood by all. The perfect clearness and transparency of his style is one of his distinguishing features; and it was further aided by his peculiar versification. Coleridge had exemplified the fitness of the octo- syllabic measure for romantic narrative poetry, and parts of his Christahel having been recited to Scott, he adopted its wild rhythm and harmony, joining to it some of the abruptness and irregularity of the old-ballad metre. In his hands it became a powerful and flexible instrument, whether for light narrative and pure descrip- tion, or for scenes of tragic wildness and terror, such as the trial and death of Constance in Marmion, or the swell and agitation of a battle-field. The knowledge and enthusiasm requisite for a chivalrous poet Scott possessed in an eminent degree. He was an early worshipper of "hoar antiquity." He was in the maturity of his powers — thirty-four years of age — when the Lay was pub- lished, and was perhaps better informed on such subjects than any other man living. Border story and romance had been the study and the passion of his whole life. In writing Marmion and Jvanhoe, or in building Abbotsford, he was impelled by a natural and irre- sistible impulse. The baronial castle, the court and camp — the wild Highland chase, feud, and foray — the antique blazonry, and institutions of feudalism, were constantly present to his thoughts and imagination. Then, his powers of description were unequalled — certainly never surpassed. His landscapes, his characters and ^ situations, were all real delineations; in general effect and indi- :^ ^ \ LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. xix raries kad the same picturesqueness, fancy, or invention ; none so graphic in depicting manners and customs ; none so fertile in inventing incidents; none so fascinating in narrative, or so various and powerful in descri[)tion. The Lay of the Last Minstrel is a Border story of the sixteenth century, related by a minstrel, the last of his race. The character of the aged minstrel, and that of Margaret of Branksome, are very finely drawn ; Deloraine, a coarse Border chief, or moss- trooper, is also a vigorous portrait ; and in the description of the march of the English army, the personal combat with Mus- grave, and the other feudal accessories of the piece, we have fin- ished pictures of the olden time. The goblin page is no favorite of ours, except in so far as it makes the story more accordant with the times in which it is placed. The introductory lines to each canto form an exquisite setting to the dark feudal tale, and tended greatly to cause the popularity of the poem. Marmion is a tale of Flodden Field, the fate of the hero being connected with that memorable engagement. The poem does not possess the unity and completeness of the Lay, but if it ha.s greater faults, it has also greater beauties. Nothing can be more strikingly picturesque than the two opening stanzas of this romance. The same minute painting of feudal times characterizes both poems, but by a strange oversight — soon seen and regretted by the author — the hero is made to commit the crime of forgery, a crime unsuited to a chivalrous and half-civilized age. The battle of Flodden, and the death of Marmion, are among Scott's most spirited descriptions. The former is related as seen from a neigh- boring hill ; and the progress of the action — the hurry, impetu- osity, and confusion of the fight below, as the different armies rally or are repulsed — is given with such animation, that the whole scene is brought before the reader with the vividness of reality. The first tremendous onset is dashed off, with inimitable power, by the mighty minstrel. The hero receives his death-wound, and is borne off the field. The description, detached from the context, loses much of its interest ; but the mingled effects of mental agony and physical suffering, of remorse and death, on a bad but brave spirit trained to war, is described with true sublimity. AVe may contrast with Marmion the silent and appalling death- scene of Roderick Dhu, in the Lady of the Lake. The savage chief expires while listening to a tale chanted by the bard or minstrel of his clan. ^: LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. ^: The Lady of the Lake is more riclily picturesque than either of the former poems, and the plot is more regular and interesting. " The subject," says Sir James Mackintosh, *' is a common Highland irruption ; but at a point where the neighborhood of the Low- lands affords the best contrast of manners — where the scenery affords the noblest subject of description — and where the wild clan is so near to the court, that their robberies can be connected with the romantic adventures of a disguised king, an exiled lord, and a high-born beauty. The whole narrative is very fine." It was the most popular of the author's poems: in a few months twenty thousand copies were sold, and the district where the action of the poem lay was visited by countless thousands of tourists With this work closed the great popularity of Scott as a poet. Bokehy, a tale of the English Cavaliers and Koundheads, was considered a failure, though displaying the utmost art and talent in the delineation of character and passion. Don Roderick is vastly inferior to Bokehy; and Harold and Triermain are but faint copies of the Gothic epics, however finely finished in some of the tender passages. The Lord of the Isles is of a higher mood. It is a Scottish story of the days of Bruce, and has the charac- teristic fire and animation of the minstrel, when, like Rob Key, he has his foot on his native heath. Bannockburn may be com- pared with Flodden Field in energy of description, though the poet is sometimes lost in the clironicler and antiquary. The interest of the tale is not well sustained throughout, and its chief attraction consists in the descriptive powers of the author, who, besides his feudal halls and battles, has drawn the magnificent scenery of the West Highlands — the cave of Staffa, and the dark desolate grandeur of the Coriusk lakes and mountains — with equal truth and sublimity. The lyrical pieces of Scott are often very happy. The old ballad strains may be said to have been his original nutriment as a poet, and he is consequently often warlike and romantic in his songs. But he has also gaiety, archness, and tenderness, and if he does not touch deeply the heart, he never fails to paint to the eye and imagination. /: y M The La y of the Last 3Linstrel. A POEM. IN SIX CANTOS. Dum relpgo, scripsisse pudet; quia plurlma cerno, Me quoque, qui feci, judice, digua lini. ADVERTISEMENT TO EDITION 1833. The hitrod action to "The Lav of the Last Minstrel," written in April 1830. was revised by the Author in the autumn of 1831, when he also made some corrections in tlie text of the Poem, and several additions lo the notes. The work is tiow printed from iiis mlerleaved copv It is much to tie regretted that the original MS of this Poem has not been preserved. We are thus denied tiie advantage of cfimparins throu^liout the Author's various reudlnss, which, III tiie case of Marmion. the Lady of the Lake, the Lord of the Isles, iiceriiin?"tlie purpose and hi.story of eacli, in their turn, I :iiii desirous that the Poems for winch 1 first received some marks of tiie public favour, slmiild also be accompanied with such scraps of their literary history as may be supposed to carry interest along with them. Even if I should be mis- taken in thinkina; that the secret history of what wiis once so popular, may still attract public attention and curiosity, it'seeins to me not without its use to record the manner and circumstances under which the present, and other Poems on the same plan, attained for a season an extensive reputation. I must resume the story of my literary labours at the period at which 1 broke otf in the Essay on the Imitation of Popular Poetry. (see post,] when I had enjoyed the first gleain k . Publi.-hed in 4to, (U 6«.) January leOd. of public favour, by the sucres.s of the first edition of the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Bor- der. The .second edition of that work, pub- lished III 1803, proved, in the lane-ua^e of the trade, rather a heavy concern. The demand ill Scotland had been siip:ilied by the tirst edi'.ion. luid the curiosity of the EiisjIinIi was not much awakened by poems in the rude gaib of antiquity, accompanied with no es re- ferrin;; to the obscure feuds of tiaibarous clans, of whose very names civilized history was ignorant. I' was, on the whole, one ofth(»e books which are more praised than they are read 2 At this time I s'ood personally in a different position from that which 1 occupied when I first dipt my despera'e pen in ink for other purposes than those of niv profession. In 1796, when I first [iiiltlished the traiislaiions from Biirger, I w;is an insulated individual, with only my own w;ints to [irovide fur. and haviiis, in a great mettsuie. my own mcliiia'ions alone to consult. In 1803, when the second eilition of the Minstrelsy appeared, I had arrived at a period of life when men. however thoughtless, encounter duties and circums'ances which press cotisideralion and plans of life upon the most careless minds I had been for some time married— was the father of a risina: family, and. thoui^li fully enabled to meet the conse- quent demands upon me, it was my duty and desire to place myself in a situation which would enable me lo make honour:djle provision against the various contingencies of life. It may be readily supposeii that the aiiempis which I had made in liierature fiad been un- favourable to my success at the bar. The goddess Iheitiis "is, at Edinburgh, and I sup- pose everywhere else, of a peculiarly jealous disposition She will not readily cdnseiU lo share her authority, and sternly demands from her votaries, not only that real duly be care- fully attended lo and discharged, b'jt that a t^ SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. certain air of hiisiness shall he observed even in the midst of total idleness. It is prudent, if not absolutely necessary, in a youns; bar- rister, to appear entiielv engrossed by his pro- fession ; however destitute of eniploynient he mav in reatitv be, he ou^ht to preserve, if pos- sible, the a()pKaranr* of full occupation. He should, therefore, seem perpetually engaged among his law-papers, dustina: them, as it were ; and, as Ovid advises the fair, " Si iiullus eril pulvis, tamen cxcute nullum." I Perhaps such extremity of attention is more especially required, considering the great num- ber of counsellors who are called to the bar, and how very small a proportion of them are fiii;dlv disposed, or find encouragement, to follow the law as a profession. Hence the nuinhfr of desnr ers is so great, that the least lingering look hehuid occasions a young novice to be set down as one of ihe iiii end ing fugitives. Certain it is, that the 8c ihe composer who uses it in more modern days, liy encouraging him in a habit of' slovenly composition. The necessity of occasional pauses ofien forces the young poet to pay more attention to sense, as the hoy's kite rises highest when the train is load- ed by a due counterpoise. The Author was therefore intimidated by what Byron calls the "fatal facility" of the octo-syllal)ic verse, which was otherwise better adap'ed to his purpo.se of imitating the more ancient poetry. I was not le.ss at a loss for a suliject which might admit of being treated with the simplicity and wildness of the aiicieni ballad. But acci- dent dictated both a theme and measure, which decided the subject, as well as the structure of the poem. 'I'he lovely young Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards Harriet Duchess of Bu(;cleuch, had coii.'e to the land other husband with the desire of making herself acquainted with its iradilions and customs, as well as Us manners and history. All who rememlier this lady will agrei ,'lhat the intellectual character of Jier extreme beauty, the amenity and cour- tesy of her manners, the soundness of her understanding, and her unbounded benevo- lence, gave more the idea of an angelic visi- tant, than of a being belonging to this nether world ; and such a thought was but too consis- tent with the short space she was permitted to tarry among us. 2 Of course, where all made it a pride and pleasure to gratify her wishes, she soon heard enough of Border lore ; among others, an aged gentleman of proper- ty, 3 near Langholm, communicated to her 1 Thus it has heeii often remarkej, ihat, in the opening couplels of rope's translation of Ihe Iliad, there are two •yllables forinicig a .xuiierflous word in each line, as may be observed by atleudu.g to such wonU as are printed in Italics. "Arhilles wrath to Greece the direful spring or woes uiinumber'd, hcavrnjy goddess, sing ; That wrath which sent to I'luto's gloom]/ reign, The souls of mighty chiefs iu batlle slain. Whose hones, unburied on \\i^ desert shore, Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore." 2 The duchess died in August 1814. Sir Wallei bcotfs lines on her death will be found in a subsequent pa^e of SThii E,t. Mr. Beattie of Mickledale, a man then con- lad3'ship the story of Gilpin Horner, a tradi tion in which the narrator, and many more (»t that country, were firm believers. The young Countess, much delighted with the legenti, and the gravity and full confidence with which it was told, enjoined on me as a task to com- pose a ballad on the subject. Of course, to hear wtis to obey ; and thus the goblin story, objected to by several critics as an excrescence iipon the poem, was, in fact, the occasion of its being written. A chance similar to that which dictated the subject, gave me also the hint of a new mode of treating it. We liad at that time the lease of a pleasant cottage, near Ltisswade, on the romantic hanks of the Esk. to which we esca- ped whenthe vacations of the Court permitted me so much leisure. Here 1 had the pleasure to receive a visit from Mr Stoddart. (now Sir .lohn Stoddart, J udge-Advotvdte at Malta,) who was at that time collecting the particulars which he afterwards embodied in his Remarks on Local Scenery in Scotland.* I was of some use to him in procuring the information which he desired, and guiding him to the gcenes which he wished to see. In return, he made me better acquainted than I had hitherto been with the poetic efi'iisions which have since made the Lakes of Westmoreland, and the authors by whom they have been sung, so famous wlierever the English tongue is spoken. I was already acquainted with the " Juan of Arc," the "Thalaba," and Ihe •' Metrical Bal- lads" of Mr. Southey, which had found their way to Scotland, and were geniirally admired. But Mr. Stoddart, who had the advantage of pei-sonal friendship with the authors, and who possessed a strong memory with an excellent taste, was able to repeat to me many long spe- cimens of their poetry, whicn had not yet ap- lieared in print. Amonsst others, was the striking fragment called Christ abel, by Mr. Coleridge, winch, from the singularly irregular structure of the stanzas, and the liber:y which it allowed the author, to adapt the sound to the sense, seemed to be exactly suited to such an extravaganza as 1 meditated on the subject of Gilpin Horner. As applied to comic and humorous poetry, this niescolanza of measures had been already used by Anthony Hall, Anstey, Dr. Wolcott. and others ; but it vv;is in Christahel that 1 first found it used in seri- ous poetry, and it is to Mr. Ctilendge that I am bound to make the acknowledgment due from the pupil to his master. 1 (jbserve that Lord Byron, m noticing my obligations to Mr Coleridge, which 1 have been always most ready to acknowledge, expressed, or was un- derstood to express, a hope, that I urn not write an unfriendly review on Mr. Coleridge's productions. 5 On tins sutiject 1 have only to siderably upwards of eighty, of a shrewd and sarcastic temper, which he did not at all limes suppres-s as the fol- lowing aneidote will show :— .\ worthy clergyman, now deceased, with better good-will than tact, was endeavour- ing to push Ihe senior forward in his recollection of Bor- der ballads and legends, by expressing reiterated surprise at his wonderful memory. "No, sir," said old Mickledale ; *'my memory is good for little, for it cannot retain what ought to be preserved. I can remember all these stones about the auld riding days, which are of no earthly import- ance; but were you, reverend sir, to repeat your be«i ser- mon in this drawing-room, I could not tell you ha f an hour afterwards what you had been speaking about." 4 Two volumes, royal octavo. IHOl. 6 Medwiii's couveisatious of Lord Byron, p. 30i». ^: ^ /. 7 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. ^ 18 Bay, that I do not even know the review which is alluded to; und were I ever to taite the nnheconiingr freedom of censnriiia: a man of Mr. ColeridKe"s extraordin:ii-y taltnts, it w.)uld be on account of llie caprice and indoliMice with which lie lias thrown fnjni liiin. jis if in mere wantonness, tliose unfinished snaps of poet|-y, which, like the Torso of aiUiqui y.dely the skill of his poetical l)reMireii to complete tlK-m ' 'I'lie (■harming fraa:inenrs which ihe auMior ahaiidoiis to ih^^ir fate, are surely loo valuable to lu! tieateil like the proofs of care- less enifravers, the sweepinu's of whose studios often make the forluiie of some painstaking collector. I did not im mediately proceed upon my pro- jecied labour, Ihouirh 1 was now fnrnislnd wiUi a subject, and wiih a sfinciure of verse which niiV'ht have the ell'ect of novel' y to the public ear. and alUnd the auilmr an opportunity of varying; his measure with the variations of a roinaniic iheme. Un the contrary, it was, to the best of my recollection, more than a year after Mr. Stod'dait's visit, tha'. by way of ex- periment. I composed the first two or three stanzas of -'['lie Lay of the Last Minstrel." I was shortly afterwards visited by two intimate friends, oiie of whom still survives. They were men whose talents iimrlit have raised them to the inchest station in literature, had they not preferred exeriin^ them in their own profession of the law. in which they attained eiinal prefrrment. I w.as in the habit of con- sultiii!? them on my attempts at composition, havniif equal conlideiice m their sound taste and friendly sincerity 2 In this specimen I had, in the phrase of the Hishland servant. p>acked all that was my own .av!,, •' will de-ire lo summon him from his place of rest, an \ 'To call up him who left half to'd The .• Neither was the extent of the sale inferior to i he character of the judires who received the |)oem with approbation. Upwards of thiriy thousand copies of the Lay were dis- posed of by the trade; and the aiiilior had lo perform a task difficult to human vanity, when called upon to make the necessary deductions from his own merits, in the calm attempt to account for his popularity.2 A few additional remarks on the author's literary attempts after this period, will be found in the Introduction to the Poem of Marmion. Abbotsford, April, 1830. The La y of the Last Minstrel, TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES P:ARL OF DALKEITH, THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. The Poem, now offrred to the Fubi.ic, is intended to illustrate the customs and manners which anciently prevailed on the Borders of England and Scotland. The tnhatntants livino in a state partly pastoral and partly warlike, and coinbiniwi habits of constant depredation with the influ- enre of a rude spirit of rhiualry, were often ewiaued in scenes highly svsceptible of poetical orna- ment. As the description of scenery and manmrs was more the object of the Author than a combined and reijular narrative, the plan of tlic A ncient Metrical Romance was adopted, which allows (jreater latitude, in this respect, than would be ronsislent with the dignity of a regular Poeni. The same model offered other facilities, as it permits an occasional alteration of measure, which, m some degree, authorises the chantje of rhythm in the text. The machinery, also, adopted from popul'ir belief, would have seemed puerile in a Poem which did not partake of the rudeness of the old Ballad, or Metrical Romance. For these reasons, the Poem was put into the mouth of an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, who, as he is suptiosed to have survived the Revolution, myjht have caught somewhat of the refine- ment of modern poetry, without losing the simplicity of his oriijinal model. The date of the Tale itself is about the middle of the sixteenth century, when most of the pcrsoncujes actually flourished. The lime occupied by the action is Three Nights and Three Days. INTRODUCTION. The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old ; His wither'd cheek, and tresses gray, Seem'd to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaiiiins: joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. " ui;h what channe vha! X made have failed lo ascertain. Pitt's prai8e, as pxpre«s«i lo his niece, Lady Hesler Stan- hope, within II few weeks after the poem appeared, was repeated by her to Mr. William Stewart Rose, who, of course, communicated it forthwith lo the author; and not long after, the Minister, in conversation with Siolt's early friend, the Right Hon William Dundas, signified ihat it would give him pleasure to find some opportunity of ad- vancing the fortunes of such a writer. "1 remember," wril.s this gentleman, " al Mr. Pitt's table in 1806, the Chancellor asked me about you and your then siluation, bikI afler I had answered him, Mr. Pitt observed —• He can't remain as he is,' and desired me to ' look to't.'"— Lock hart. 14fe of Scott, Vol. 11. p. 226. 2 "The poet has under-esiimaled even the patent and tangible evidence of his success. The first edition of the Lay was a magnificent quarto, 750 copies; hut this was • au^ted. and there followed nn octavo Impression IBOO, two more, one of 21 00 copie». another of 1500; The last of all the Bards was he, V\"ho sung of Border chivalry ; For, welladay ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected ant] oppress'd, Wjsh'd to be with them, and atrest.3 No more on pnincing palfrey borne, He caroll'd, light as lark at morn ; ballads and lyrical pieces beini; then annexe I to it)— an.l, another octavo edition of 12 0; in 1811. SOOO ; in lf<12 3000; in 1816,3000; in lf-2 ■. 1000. A fourteenth impres- sion of 2000 foolscap appeared in 1825, and besiiles all this, before the end of l«3fi, 11,000 copies had aone forth in the collected editions of his poetical works. Thus, nearly forty-four thousand copies had been disposed of in this couRIry, and by the legitimate trade alone, before he super- intended the edition of 1830, to which his hioaraphical introductions were prefixed. In the history of British Poetry nothing had ever equalled the demand for I he Lay of the Last Minstrel."— Lt/'e, Vol. II. p. 226 3 " Turning to the northward. Scott showed us the crass and tower of Smailholme. ana behind it the shaltend fragment of Erceliloune. and repealed some pretty stanzas ascribed to the last of the real wandering minstrels of this district, by name Bum : 'Sing Erceldoune, and Cowdenknowes, Where Homes had aiice commanding. And Drygrange. wi' the milk-white ewei^ ■Twixt Tweed and Le.idet standing. \ T A 7 ^ THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. No longer courted and caress'd, Higli placed in hull, a welc(.)nie guest, He" pour'd, to lord and lady gay, The unpremeditated lay: Old times were ciiauged, old manners gone ; A sti anger fiU'd the Stuarts' throne ; T:.e bigots of the iron time Had cail'd his harmless art a crime. A wandering Harper, sconi'd and poor, He begg'd his bre;ul from door touoor, And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The haip, a kuig had loved to hear. He pass'd where Newark's ' stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower, The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye- No humbler restmg-place was iiigh ; With hesitating step at last. The embattled portal arch lie pass'd. Whose ponderous grate and massy bar Had oft roll'd back the tide tf war. But never closed the iron door Against the desolate and poor. Tlie Duches.B'- marked his weary pace. His timid mien, and reverend face. And bade hor page the menials tell. That they should tend the old man well : For she had known adversity, Though born in such a hujh degree ; In pride of power, in beauty's hiooin, Had wept o er Monmouth's bloody comb ! When kindness had his wants supplied, And the old man was gratified, Began to rise his minstrel pnde : And he began to talk anon. Of good Earl Francis.3 dead and gone, And oi 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 ; The bir.1 thai 9ee» through RcOpath trwa And Gledswood banks inch morro'*, May chaunl ami sing— Sujrei Lead'^'t haug?tt And Bonny hawmt of Yarrow. * But MinHlrel Burn cannot assuage His grief while life endureth, To see the changes of tliis a^e Which Berting time procurelh ; For mony a place stands in hard case. Where biythe folks kent nae sorrow, With Homes ihat dwelt on Leader side. And Scottii that dwelt on Yarrow " Life, VOL Ti. f. 78. 1 " This U a massive eqoare tower, now ulfroared and ninous, surrounded by an outward wall, defender) by rouud flanking turrets. It is most beautifully situated, about thiee miles from Selkirk, upon ihe banks of thi- Yarrow, a fit-rce and precipitous stream, which unites with the Kt:ri('ke about a mile beneaih the caslle. • Newark Caslle was built by James II. The royal the the wesiern side of ihe lower. There ».■».< a mmh more an- cient castle in its immediaie viiinily. lalled Auldwark. founded, it is said, by Alexander 111. Both were designed for the royal resideoce when the king was disposed to lake bis pleasure in the extensive forest of turicke. Various grajits otcur in the records of the Pnvy Seal, bestowing the keeping of the Oaslle of Newark upon different barons. There is a popular Irailiiion that it wa.s once seized, and held out by the outlaw Murray, a noted characier in song. who only surrendered Newark upon condiiion of being made hereditary sheriff of Ihe forest. A long ba lad, con- taining an aci-ount of this transaction, is preseived in the Border Minsirelsy.(vnl. i. p. 369.) Upon the marr ase of James IV. with Margaret, .sister of Henry VIII., Ihe CasUe of Newark, with (he whole Forest of Eilricke, was Msignrd to her as a part of her jointure lands. But of Ibis she could make little advaiilage ; for, after the death And, would the noble Duchess ileij I o 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 obtain'd; The Aged Minstrel audience gain'd. But, when he reach'd the room of state, Where she. with all her ladies, sate, Perchance he wish'd his boon denied : For, when to tune his harp lie tried. His trembling: hand had lost the ease. Which marks security to ple;ise ; And scenes, long past, of joy. and pain, Came wildenng o'er his aged brain — He tried to tune his harp m vain ! s The pityiner 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 recall an ancient sliaiii. He never thought to sinsr again. It was not framed for village churls. But for high dames and mighty earls; He had played it to Ivitig Charles the Good, When he kept court in Holy rood ; .\iid mar.h he wish'd, yet fear'd, to try The long-forgotten melody. Aiiud the strings his fingers stray'd, And an uncertain warbling made. And otl he shook his hoary head. But when he caught ihe measure wild, The old man raised his face, and smileti And liglilen'ii up his faded eye, With all a poet's ecstasy ! In varying cadence, soft or strong, He swept the sounding chords alons: : ?t ily. of her husband, she is found complaii Buccleuch had seized upon these lands of keeper wa.s latterly held by the family of Bacclmch, and with so firm a grasp, thai when the Forest of Eilricke was disparked, they obiain&l a grant of the Caslle of New- ark in property. It was within the courl-yard of this caslle that General Lesly did military execution upon Ihe prisoners whom he had taken at Ihe battle of Philiphaugh. caslli ued to Buccleuch family for more than a century; and here, it is said, the Duchess of Monmouth and Buccleuch » as brought up. For this reason, probably, Mr. Scoit has chosen to make it the scene in which the Lay of the Last Minstrel is recited in her presence, and for her amusement."— Skhetky's lUuttralions n, vol. ii. p. 226.) savs, that Pitt repeated the lines, describing the old harper's embarrassment when asked to play, and said, '• This is a sort of thing which I might have expected in painting, but could never have fancied capable of being given in poetry." " z. 16 SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. The present scene, the future lot, llis toils. Ins wiiuts, were all forgot: Cold diffidence, and ajre's frost, In '.he lull tide of sons were lost ; Each blank, in faithless irieniory void, 'I'lie poet's glowing thought supplied; And, while his harp res|ionsive rung, 'Twas thus the Latest Minstrel sung. erije Hap of tl)c ILast iiilfnstrcl. CANTO FIRST. I. The feast was over in Branksome tower, i And the Ladve had gone to her secret liower; Her liower llial was guarded by word and by spoil, Peadly to hear, and deadly to tell — Jesu Maria, shield us well ! Nil living wislii, save the Ladye alone, Had dared to cross the threshold stone. II. The tables were drawn, it was idlesse ai! ; Kiiiarlil. and pase, and household -squire. Loiter'd 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-nioor. in. Nine-and-twenty knights of fame Hung their shields m Branksome-Hall ; ' Niiie-imd-twenty squires of name Brought theni their steeds to bower from stall ; Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall Waited, duteous, on them all : They were all kmailits of mettle true. Kinsmen to the bold 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 niijht : They lay down to nist, With corslet laced, Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With (jloves of steel. And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd. V. Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail clad men, Waited the beck of the warders ten; X 2 See Appendix, Note B. 4 Si-e Appiiiilix, Noie D, and compare Ihese stanzas IhPdesriiplinn of J-jmie Telfer's appearance nt Brank Hall, (Bnnler Minslrclsy, vol. ii. p. 5,) lo clain proti-ctiou of •' Aulri Buccleuch" — and tlie ensuing i (page 9,)- "The Scolt-i tliejr rade, ttie Scotts they ran, Sae Hlarkly and sae sleadilie ! And aye the ower-wnnl o' the Ihrane Wa.i — ■• Rise for Branksome readilie," Sec. Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, Stood saddled in stable day and nisht. Barbed with frontlet of steel, 1 trow. And with Jed wood axe at saddlebow ;3 A hundred more fed free in stall : — Such was the custom of Branksome-HaJl. VI. Why do these steeds stand readv dight ? Wity watch these warriors, arm'd, by riisht r— They watch, to bear the blood-hound baying: riiey watch to hear the war-honi braying; To see St. George's red cross stie.-iming. W, see the midnight beacon sleinninff : They watch, against Southern force and tiruile. Lest Scroop, or Howard, or IVrcy s powers, Threaten Brank.wine's lordly towers, From Wark worth, or Nawor'h, or merry Carlisle. ■» VII. Such is the custom of Branksome-Hall — Many a valiant knisht is here; But he, the chieftain of them all. His sword hana:s rustmjr on the wall. 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 hisli Dunedin" Saw lances gleam, and falchions redden, And hearil the slogan's ' deadly veil — Then the Chief of Branksome fell. vin. Can piety the discord heal, Or stanch the death-feud's enmity? Can Christian lore, can patriot zeal. Can love of blessed charily ? No! vainly to e:icli holy shrine. In mutual pilgrimage tiiey drew; Implored, iii vain, the grace divine For duels, their own red falchions slew : While Cessford owns the rule of ('arr. While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, The slaushler'd chiefs, the mortal jar, The havoc of the feudal war. Shall never, never be forgot ! 8 IX. In sorrow o'er Lord Walter's bier The warlike foresters had bent ; And many a flower, and many a tear, Old Teviot's maids and matrons lent ; But o'er her warrior's bloody lner The Ladye dropped nor tlower nor tear ! 9 Vengeance, deep-broodmg o'er the slain. Had lock'd the source of softer woe ; And burning pride, and high disdain. Forbade the rising tear to flow ; Until, amid his sorrowing clan. Her son lisp'd from the nurse's knee — Compare also the Ballad of Ki 6 See Appendix, Note E. Willie, ivol. ii. p. S3.) le lay,"'A;c.--£a. 7 The war-cry, or gatherinE-word, of a Border-clan. 8 See Appendix, Note F. 9 Orig. (l8t Kdition.) "The Ladye droped nor Ugh not A r. THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. And if 1 live to be a nian. My father's ileatli reveused shall be ! ' Then fast the nmllier's tears did seek To dew the lufaiit's kindling cheek. All loose her nedisrent attire, All loose her golden hair, Hun? Margaret o'er her slaughter'd sire, And wept in wild despair, Bill not iilone ilie bitter tear Had filial urief supplied ; For hopeless love, and anxious fear, Had lent their mingled tide : Nor in her niolhei's alter'd eye Dared she to look for sympathy. Her lover, 'gainst her father's clan, With Carr in arms had stood, i When Mathoiise-biirn to Melrose ran, All purple with their blood ; And well she knew, her mother dread, Before Lord Cranstouii she should wed.s Would see her on her dying bed. XL Of noble race the Ladye came. Her failier was a clerk of fame. Of Bethune's line of Picardie :3 He learn'd tiie art that none may name. In Padua, far beyond the sea.4 Men said, he changed his mortal frame By feat of magic mystery ; For when, in studious mofid, he paced St. Andrew's cloister'd hall,5 His form no darkening shadow traced Upon the sunny wall !6 XII. And of his skill, as bards avow He taught that Ladye fair. Till to her bidding she could bow The viewless forms of air.'' And now she sits in secret l)ower, 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 scaur's^ red side ? Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it be. the heavy sound. That moans old Branksome's turrets round T XIII. At the sullen, moaning sound. The ban-dogs bay and howl ; And, from the turrets round, Loud whoops the startled owl. In the hall, both squire and knight. Swore that a storm was near. And looked forth to view the night? But the night was still and clear ; XIV. From the sound of Tevint's tide. Chafing with the mountain's side. From the groan of the wind-swung oak. From the sullen echo of the rock. by ih _. u the most ion 3 See .Append i !pel' differently the most poetical reading ) 1 See Appendix, Note G. (The nam- _ ,-. families who bear it. Carr is 8el>-cied ^ 4 See AFpendu, Note K. i See Appendix, Note 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. KIVER SPIRIT. "Sleep'st thou, brother?" — MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. — •' Brother, nay — On my hills the moonbeains play. From Craik-cross to Skelfhill pen. By every rill, in every glen. Merry elves their morris pacing. To aerial minstrel.sy. 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 imprison'd maiden Mix with my polluted stream ; Margaret of Bianksome, soiiow-laden. Mourns beneath the moon's pale lieam. Tell me, thou, who view'si the siai-s, When shall cease these feudal jars ? What shall be the maiden's fate? Who shall be the maiden's mate ?"— X\T[. MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. "Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll. In utter darkness round the pole ; The Northern Bear lowers black and grim, Orion's studded belt is dim ; Twinkling faint, and distant far. Shimmers through mist each planet star; III may I read their high decree ! But no kind influence deign itiey shower On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower, Tiil pride be quelled, and love be free." xvin. The unearthly voices ceast. And the heavy sound was still; It died on the river's breast. It died on the side of the hill. But round Lord David's tf)wer The sound still floated near: For it rung in the Ladye's bower. And it rung in the Ladve's ear She raised her stately head, And her heart throhb'd high with pride :- '• Your mountains shall bend, And your streams ascend, Ere Margaret be our foeman's bndu !" 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.9 the boy The truncheon of a spear bestrode. And round the hall, right merrily, In mimic foray lo rode. M; 6 First Edition— •' St. Ken/iyeme'j hall."— St. .Muiigo.or Kentigerne, iu the patron saint of Glaigow, 6 See Appendix, Note L. 7 See Appendix, Note M 8 Scaur, a precipitous bant of earth 9 See Appendix, Note N. 10 Foray, a | redutnry inroad. •^ bt SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS \ Even b«!:irded knights, in arms errown old, Share in his frolio sanihols bore, Alheil their hearts of rushed nionld. Were stubborn as I he sleel they wore. For tlie Krey warriors prophesied. How the brave bov. in future war, Should tame the Uniroru's pride. i Exalt the Crescent and tlie Star. 2 XX. The Ladye foreot iier purpose high, Due m>>nient. and no more ; One moment eazed with a mother's eye. As she paused at the arched door: Then from amid the armed train, She called her William of Deloraine.s XXI. A stark moss-troopinff Soot was he. As e'er couch'd Border hiuce bv knee ; TliroU!?li Solway sands, through Tanas moss, Blindfold, he knew the paliis to cross; By wilv turns, bv desperate bounds. Had baffled Perc'v's best bloodhounds;* In Eske or [.Idtlel. fords were none, But he would ride them, one by one ; Alike to him was time or tide. December's snow, or July's pride; Alike to him was tide or time. Moonless midnight, or matin prime : Steady of heart, and stout of liand. As ever drove [irey from Cumberland ; Five times outlawed had he been. By England's King, and Scotland's Queen. XXU. "Sir William of Deloraine, good at need. Mount thee on the wishtest steed ; Spare not to spur, nor siint to ride, Until thou come to fair Tweedside; And in Melrose's holv 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. " What he gives thee, see thou keep ; Stay not thou for food or sleep : Be it scroll, or be it book, Into it. Knight, ihou must not look ; If thou readest, thou art lorn ! Better had'st thou ne'er beeu born."— XXIV. "O swiftly can speed my dapple-grey steed. Which drinks of the 'I'eviot clear ; Ere break of day," the Warrior 'gan say, '• Again will I be here : 1 Ttiie line, of whicti the metre appears defective, would have itH full cnmplemeni of feel atiordini! to the prouuii- ciaiion of the poet himself— as all who were familiar with hia utterance of the letter r will bear Icstimony.— B-i. 3 See Api«ndix. Note O. 3 Ibid, Note P. 4 Iliid. Note U. 6 Hairibee. the plare of executing the Border Marauders Bt Carli-le The neck-verte is Ihcr beginning of the 51si Pa.ilm. Miterere mti, &-•■„ anciently read by criminals rlalming the henefii of ilergy. I" In the rough hut spirited ■ketch of the marauding Burderer, and in the naivete of hia And safer by none may thy errand be done. Than, noble dame, by nie; Letter nor line know I never a one, Wert my neck -verse at Hairibee." * XXV. Soon in his saddle stite he fast. And soon the steep descent he fiast. Soon crossed I he sounding barbican,* And soon the Teviot's side he won. Eastward the wooded path he rode, Green hazels o'er his basnet nod ; He passed the Pee|7 of Goldiland, And cross'd old Borthwick's roaring strand ; Dimly he viewed the Moat hill's mound, Where Druid shades still flitted round ;8 In Hawick twinkled many a light; Behind him soon they set in night; And .soon he spurr'd his courser keen Beneath the tower of Hazeldean.9 XXVI. The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark :— "Stand, he! thou courier of the dark."— " For Bianksome, ho I" the knight rejoin'd. And left the friendly tower behind. He turn'd him now from Teviotside, And, guided by the tinkling rill. Northward the dark ascent did ride. And gained the moor at Horsliehill ; Broad on the left before him lay. For many a mile, the Komau vuay.io XXVII. A moment now he slack'd his speed, A moment lireathed his panting steed ; Drew saddle-girth and corslet-baiid. And loosen'd in the sheath his brand. On Miiito-ciaKs the inooiibeams glint.n V\'here Barnhill hewed his bed of flint; Who flung his ouilaw'd limbs to rest. Where falcons hang their giddy nest. Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye For many a l.ague his prey could spy ; Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne, The terrors of the robber's horn? Cliffs, which, for many a later year. The warbling Doric reed shall hear. When some sad swain shall teach the grove, Ambition is no cure for love ! XXVIII. Unchallenged, thence passed Deloraine, To ancient Riddel's fair domain, 12 Where Aill, from mountains freed, Down from the lakes did raving come; Each wiive 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 saddlebow ; last declaration, the reader will recognise some of the mnsl Klriking features of the ancient ballad."— Cridca/ Review. \ 6 Barbican, the defence of the outer gate of a feudal 7 Peel, a Border tower. 8 See Appendix, Note R. 9 See Appendix, Note 8. 10 An nniient Roman road, crossing through part of Boi- burehshire. a See Appendix, Note T. 12 Ihid, Note U. ^! y z 7" THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, ^J Above the foamins tide. I ween, Scarce lialf the charter's neck was seen; For he was barded ' from counter to tail, And the rider was armed complete in mail ; Never heavier man and horse Sremm'd a midnight torrent's force. The warrior's very pluiie, I say, Was da??led hy tiie (hishiiia: spray; Yet, through good heart ami Our Ladye's grace, At lengtli he gaiii'd the landing place.. XXX. Now Bowden Moor the march-man won. And s'eriily shook his plumed head, As slaiiced his eye o'er Malidon :2 For on his soul the slaughter red Of that unhallow'd morn arose. When first the Scott and Carr were foes; When royal James heiield the fray. Prize to the victor of the day; Wlien Home and Douglas, in the van, Bore down Biiccleuch's retirmg clan. Till gallant Cessfird's heart-hlood dear Reek'd on dark Elliot's Border spear. XXXI. In hitter mood he spurred fast. And soon the hated heath was past , And far heneath, in lustre wan. Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran; Like some tall rock, with lichens grey, Seem'd dimly huge, the dark Ahbaye. When Hawick he pa^5s'd, had curfew rung. Now midnight lauds 3 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 wakeii'd hy the winds alrtne. But when Melrose he reached, 'twas silence all; He meetly stabled his steed in stall. And sought the couveul's lonely wall.* Here paused the harp ; and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell ; Dejectedly, and low, he bowed. And. gazing timid on the crowd, He seoin'd 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 wand'ring long. Had clone his hand and harp some wrong. The Duchess, and her daughters fair. And every gentle lady there, Each after each, in due degree, Gave praises to his melody ; His huii.l w:is true, his v>)ice was clear. And much they longed the rest to hear. Eiicoiirased thus, the Aged Man, After meet rest, again began. 1 Bir-Ze-f or barbed,— applieJ defrnnive armour. 2 Haliilon was an aiioiei now ilernoliKlieil. .\hout i horse accoulred wilh seat of the Kerrg of Cessford, luarter of a mile to the north- the field of ball le Iwiwixl Burcleuch and Angus, thin day the Skirmi»h Field.— See Ap- ward I which i-^ called pendix. Note D 3 L-iuds. the midnight service of the Catholic church. 4 See Appendix. Note V. 6 See Appendix. Note W. Uavid I. of ScoU.iUd, purchased the reputalioo of sane E\)z JLav of m Hast ijHfnstrcl. CANTO SECOND. If thou wouldst View fair Melrose aright. Go visit it by the pale moonliglit ; 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 tlie 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 ruin'd pile ;6 And, home returnin?. soot lily swear. Was never scene so sad and fair! II. Short halt did Deloraine make there; Little leck'd he of the scene so fair: With dagger's hilt, on the wicket strong, He struck full loud, and struck full long, The porter hurried to the arate — '• Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late ? " From Branksome I." the warrior cried; And straight the wicket open'd 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 slirine for their souls' repose.' III. Bold Deloraine his errand said ; The porter bent his humble head ; With torch in hand, and feet unshod. And noiseless step, the path he trod : The arched cloister, far and wide. Rang to the warrior's clanking stride, 1'ill, stooping low his lofty crest. He enter'd the cell of the ancient priest. And lifted his barred aventayie.s To hail the Monk of St. Mary's aisle. IV. " The Ladye of Branksome greets thee by me ; Says, that the fated hour is come. And that to-night I shall watch with thee. To win the treasure of the tomb" From sackcloth couch the monk arose. With toil his stiffen'd limbs he rear'd ; A hundred years had flung their snows Oa his thin locks and floating beard. tily. by fonndinE. and liberally endowing, not only the monastery of Melrose, but ihoi-e of Kel. O fading honours of the dead ! O liigh ambition, lowly laid ! XI. The moon on the east oriel shone 8 Through slender shafts of sliapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined; Thiiu would'st have thought some fairy's hand 'Tvvixl poplars straight the ozier wand. In many a freakish knot had twined; Then framed a spell, wlien the work was done, .And clianged the willow-wreaths to st(uie. The silver light, so pale ami faint, Sliow'd many a prophet, and many a saint, Wlmse imaije on Ihe glass was dyed; Full III the midst, his Cross of Red Triumphant Michael brandished. And trampled the Aposiale's |)rjde. The moon-beam kiss'd the holy pane. And threw on the pavement a uli(ody slain. XII. They sate them down on a marlile stone, 9 — (A Scottish monarch slept below ;) Thus spoke the Monk, in solemn tone : — " I was not always a man of woe ; For Payniin countries I have trod, And fought beneath the Cross of God : Now, si range to my eyes lliine aims appear, And their iron clang sounds strange to my tar XI 11. " In these far climes it was my lot To meet the wondrous Michael Scott; A wizard, of such dreaded fame. That when, in Salamanca's cave.n Him listed his magic wand to wave, The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! H Some of his skill he taught to me; And, Warrior, 1 could say lo thee The words that cleft Eildoii hills in three, '3 And bridled tlie Tweed with acurb 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 : 6 See Appendix, Note Z. 7 Ibid. Note -2 X. 8 See Appendix, Note 2 B. 9 A large marble s'one, in the chancel of Melro>ermi8- sion to exhibit himself upon earth. The devil grants him a day-rule, but clogs it with thiu coiiditiou,— "^ ^ 7^ THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. :^ 23 ^ And he of his service was full fain ; For oiine he had been ta'en or slain, An i* ha 1 not been for Ins ministry. All between Home and Herniitaue, I'alk'd of Lord Cranstoons Goblin-Page. XXXIIl. For the Biron went on pilsrima^e, And took with hull this elvish Pa^e, To Mary's ChHi>el of the Lowes : For Ihere. beside our Ladye's lake, An offerin? he had sworn to make, And he would jmv his vows. But the Ladve of B'ranksonie g:ather'd a band Of the best that would ri.le at herrommand :' The trysting place w;us Newark Lee. Wat of Harden came thither amain, And thither came John of Thirlestane, And thither came William of Deloraime ; They were three hundred spears and three. Through Douglas-burn, up Yarrow stream,^ 'I'heir horses prance, their lances gleam. Ihey came to St. Mary's lake ere day ; But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. They burn'd the chapel for very rage. And cursed Lord Cransloun's Goblm-Page. XXXIV. And now, in Branksome's good green wood, As under the aged oak he slood, 'I'he Baron's courser pricks his ears. As if a distant noise lie 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 cu.«hat-dove : 3 The Dwarf the slirrup held and rein; Vaulted the Kniglit on his steed amain. And, pondering deep that mornings scene, Kode eastward through the hawthorns green. While thus he poured the lengthen 'd tale The Minstrel's voice beu:aii to fail : Full slyly smiled the observant page. And gave the wither'd hand of age A goblet, crown'd with mighty wine, The blood of Velez' scorched vine. He raised the silver cup on high, And, while the big drop fill'd his ej'e, Pray'd God to bless the Duchess long And all who clieer'd a son of song. The a tending maidens smiled to see How long, how deep, how zealously. The pretuous juice the Minstrel quaff 'd ; And he, enibolden'd by the draiiglif. Look'd gaily back to them, and laugh'd. The cordial nectar of ilie bowl Swell'd his old veins, and cheer'd his soul ; A lighter, livelier prelude ran, Ere thus his lale again began. ".SoJan— Only thus more. I bind you To si-rve the firsl man that you meet ; and him I'll show you now ; observe hirn, follow him ; But, once engaged, there you must stay and fix." It ia observable that in the same play, Pug allude* to the spareneiis of his diet. Mr Scott 'h goblin, though '•waapisb. arch, and liiherlie." proves a faithful and honest retainer to the lord, into whose service he had introduced hirostlf This sort of inconsiKiency seems also to forn B prominent part of the diabolic character. Thus, in ih romances of the Roimd Table, we tind Merlin, the son of ! devil, exerting himself mo^t zealously in the cause of virtue 2rf)c Hap of t!)e Hast |Hinstrcl. CANTO THIRD. And said I that my limbs were old. And said I that my bloml 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 warm'd a minsirels dream, So foul, so false a recreant prove ! How could I name love's very name, Nor wake my heart to notes of flame! IL In peace, love tunes the shepherd's reed ; In vvar, he mounts the warrior'.** steed ; In halls, in gay attire is seen : In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love. So thought Lord Cran.sioun, as I ween, While, pondering deep the tender scene. He rode throngli Branksome's hawthorn greea But the page shouted wild :iiid 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, aud sploshed with clay, His armour red with many a stain : He seem'd in such a weary plight. As if he had ridden the live long n'glit, For it was William of Delorame. IV. But no whit weary did he seem. When, dancing in the sunny beam. He markd the crane on the Baron's crest,* For his ready spear was in his rest. Few were the words, and .stern and high. That mark'd the foemen's feudal hate ; For question fierce, and proud reply, Gave signal soon of dire debate. Their very coursers seem'd to know I'liateacli was other's mortal fi:e. And snorted fire, when wlieel'd around, I'o give each knight his vantage-ground. In rapid round the Baron bent ; He sigh'd a sigh, and pray'd a prayer; The prayer was to his patron saint, The sigh was to his ladye fair. 1 See Appendix, Note 1 K. 2 See notes on The Douglai Tragedy •ol. iii. p. 3.— Ed. 3 Wood-pigeon. 4 The crest of the Ci i, in allusion to their rati iiniie in his foot, with 10, Thou ihttti want ere I wanl. \ f 24 SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS, Nt StoiU iwloniiiie nor siyli'il nor pray'd, Nor s.init. nor luilve, culIM to aid ; But he si(iii|'M liis lie;id, and coucli'd his spear, And spill red Ins steed to loll career. The meeiiii^' of llicse cliani(iions proud Seemed like llie bursling tliuiider-cloud. VI. Stern was the dint the Borderer lent ! The stately Baron backwards bent ; Bent backwards to his horse's tail. And his plumes went scattering on the gale; The tough ash spear, so stout and true, Inio a thousand flinders flew. But Cranstoun's huice, of more avail. Pierced through, like silk, tlie Borderer's mail ; Throusli shield, and jack, :uid acton, past, Deep in his bosom broke at last. — Still sate the warrior saddle-ftist. Till, stumbiing in the mortal shock, Down went the steed, the girthing broke, Hurl'd on a heap lay man and horse. Tiie Baron onward pass'd his course; Nor knew — so a;iddy roll'd his brain — His foe lay slretcli'd upon the plain. VII. But when he rein'd his courser round, And saw his foeinan on the ground Lie senseless as the bloody clay, He bade Ins (lage to stanch the wound. And there beside the wariitn- slay, And tend him in his doubtful state. And lead him to Branksome ciistle-gate : His noble mind was inly moved For the kinsman of the maid he loved. "I'his shall thou do witliuut delay : No longer here myself may stay ; Unless the swifter 1 speed away. Short shrift will be at my dying day." vni. Away in speed Lord Cranstonn rode ; The Goblin Page behind abode ; His lord's command he ne'er withstood, 'i'liongh small his pleasure to do good. As the corslet off he took, The dwarf espied the Mighty Book! Much he inarvell'd a knight of pride. Like a bonk liosom'd priest should ride:i He thougnt nut to search orstanch the wound, Until the secret he had found. IX. The iron hand, the iron clasp, Kesisled long the eltin grasp: For when the first he had undone. It closed as he the nexi begun Those iron clasps, that iron band. Would not yield to uiichrisleii'd 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 lordiy hall ; A nut-shell seem a gilded barge, A sheelins^ seem a palace large, .And youth seem a^e. and age seem youth — All was delusion, naught was truth.-' He had not read another spell. When on his cheek a buflfet fell, So fierce, it streich'd him on the plain, Beside the wounded Delorame. From the ground he rose dismay'd. And shook his huge and matted head; One word he mutter'd, and no more, '■ Man of age, thou smitest sore !" — No more the Elfin Page durst try Into the wondrous Book to pry ; The clasps.tiiough smear'dwilh 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 thiive ; It was not given by man alive. 6 XL Unwillingly he himself address'd, To do his master's high behest : He lifted up the living corse. And laid it on the weary horse ;_ He led him into Branksome Haii, Before the beards of the warders all , .And each did after swear luid say. There only pass'd 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. What'er he did of gramarye.o Was always done maliciously ; He flung the warrior on the ground, And the blood well'd freshly from the wound. xn. As he repass'd the outer court. He spied a 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. Seem'd to the boy, some comrade gay Led him forth to llie woods to play ; " On the drawbridge the warders stout Saw a terrier and a luiclier passing out. xin. 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 look. Could he have had liis pleasure vilde, He had crippled the joints of Ihe 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 scowl'd on the startled child, And darted through the forest wild ; The woodland brook he bounding cross "d. And laugh'd, and shout.ed,''Lost ! lost ! lost .■"— XIV. Full sore amazed at the wondrous change, And frighten'd 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 ; I S«c AppeniJix, No 3 Magical dt-lusioii. ISec App V 3 Magical 2L. 3 K shiiiherd's hut. 4 See Appendi: 6 M*nie Diir.kel on his way. Thus, s artiii? oft. he jomiiey'd on, And deeper ii t le wood is gone, — For ave the more he -ouufht his way, The f lit ler still he went astray.— Uii'il he heaid the mountains round King to tae baying of a h.)uiid. XV. And hirk ! a-id hark ! the d^ep niouth'U hark Comes nigher still, and n gher : B irsis on the path a dark hiood hound, ll.s tawny muzzle tracix'il the ground, And his red eye s!iot fire. So.in as the wililer'd child saw he, He fliw at him ri^ht furiouslie. r wten you would have seen with jt^y The hearinu' of ihe sallaiit hoy, When, wo thy of his noble sue. His wdt clieek l1 >w'd 'iwixi tear and ire! He fiotd t e blood-ho iiid ma iiully, And hel.J liis l.ttle hat on hi-h ; S > fien^e he ^tru k. the dog, air iid, A c ut 'Ills dis ancj h > ir ely bay'd, But Mill in act t > s ring; When da-ii'd an arch r hr mgh t'le gtade. And when he saw iie h und was slay'd. He ilre-v hisiO'ig i ho a- -s ring; B It a lousfh vo ce cried, " Shoot ruit, hoy ! Ho ! 8. loot no , Edward— 'i'ls a boy !" XVI. 'I'he snf aker is ued fnun the wor)d. And i:he kM his lel ow's surly in od. And qu iilM th ■ ban d I's ife ; He uasai English \eiimani^ood, And horn in L mcas lire. Well c.iuUI lie hit a tallow deer Five huiidrel fe;t him fro ; With hand mo'e true, :iiid eye more clear, \o aroiier b.^ided how. His coal-black hair, shorn round and close, Set oif his sun-huinVI lace : 01 1 En^flaad's sign. St. George's cross, HisttaiTet ca;>dd .rc;; H s b ig e hor.i hun,' by his ide. All in a wolf s.n. sliarpa'iil clear, HaJ pivirceJ tie Uiro.it of many a deer. XVII. His kirtle.mad ■ of fo e-!f green, Keanh'd scin.t.ily to his knee; And. a hs belt, of air >ws keen A furbish'il sheaf bore he : His bucder. s arce in lire idt'i a sjian, No 1,1 ise feii^e had he; He never coun'e I h;ni a man. Would strike hel >w the knee : i His slackeii'd how «a- in his hand, And the leash that was his blood-hound's band. XVIII. He would not do the fair child harm. But held him with his powerful arm. Tiiat he might neither fishf nor tlee ; For when the Red-Cross spied he. 1 I •-•e *.pp«iidix, Noie2P. t Bmkitlier, belt for mrrying The bi»y strove long and violently. " Now, tiy Sr. George." the archer cries, "Edward, methiiiks we have a prize ! This hoy's fair face, and courage free, Show he is come of high-degree." — XIX. •' Yes! I am come of high-degree. For I am the heir of bold Buccleuch ; And if thou dost not set me free, False Southron, thou shalt dearly rue ! For Walter of Harden shall come with speed, And William of DelniKine, good at need. And eveiy Scott, from Esk to Tweed; And, if thou dost not let me go. Despite thy arrows and thy bow, I'll have lliee hang'd to feed the crow !" — 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 sou of such a man, And evercomest to thy command. Our wardens had need to keep good order; .My bow of yew to a hazel wand, Thou'lt make them work up.m the Border Meantime be [(leased 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. Althoush 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 pinch'd, and beat, and overthrew ; Nay, some of them he wellnigh slew. He tore Dame Maudlin's silken tire. And, as Sym H.iU stood by the fire. He lighted the match of his bandelier,^ And wofully scorch'd the hackbuteer.3 It may be hardly thought or said. The rnischief that the urchin made, Till many of the castle guess'd. That the young Baron was possess'd. XXII. Well I ween the charm he held The noble Ladye had soon dispell'd; But she was deeply busied then To tend the wounded Deloraine. Much she wonder'd to find him lie, On tlie stone threshold stretch'd along , She thouffht some spirit of the sky Had done the bold moss-tmoper 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. .\nd with a charm she stanch'd the blood ;* She bade the gash be cleansed and hound : No longer by his couch she stuod ; But she has ta'en the broken lance. And wash'd it from the clo'ted gore, ^t H Haekhuleer, musketeer. I See .^ipendix. Note 2 Q. T A 7 26 SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. ^ And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.i William of Deloraine, in trance, Whene'er she tuin'd it, ronnd and round, Twisted as if she |2:all'd his wound. I hen to her maidens she did say, That he should be whole man and sound, Within the course of a nis;ht and day Full long she toil'd ; for she did rue Mishap to friend so stout and true XXIV. Sr> pass'd the day— the evening fell. 'Twas near the time of curfew bell ; The air was mild, the wind was calm, i'lie stream was smooth, the dew wiis balm ; K'«n the rude watchman, on the tower, p;rijoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour. Far more fair Margaret loved and bless'd The hour of silence and of rest. On the high turret sitting lone. She waked at times the lute's sotl tone ; i'ouch'd a wild note, and all between Thought of the bower of liawlhorns green. Her golden hair stream'd free from bi»nd. 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 tighten'd breath, For well she knew the fire of death ! XXVI. The Warder view'd 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 bla.st alarm'd the festal hall, And startled forth the warriors all ; Far downwai d, in the castle yard. Full many a torch and cresset glared ; And helms and plumes, confusedly toss'd, Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost; And spe:irs m wild disorder shook. Like reeds beside a frozen brcxjk. 'I'he Seneschal, whose silver hair Was redden'd by the torches' glare. Stood in the midst, with gesture proud. And issued forth his mandates loud : — " On Penchryst glows a bale 2 of fire, And three are kindling on Piiesthaughswire : Ride out, ride out. The foe to scout ! Mount, mount for Branksonie,3 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 hfe ! And warn the Warder of the strife. Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze. Our km, and clan, and friends, to raise." * 1 See Appendix, Note 3 R. 2 Ser Appendix, Note 1 8. Mount /or Branltiome was Ihe eallit 8cotU>. iig word of the Fai; XXVI II. 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 tram[;lmg hoofs, and iron cering brand. And ruddy blnsh'd the heaven : For a sheet of flame, from the turret nigh, 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 clitf, were seen , Each with warlike tidings fraught ; Each from each the signal caught ; Each after each they glanced to siglit, As stars arise upon the night. They gleamed on many a dusky tarn,^ Haunted by the lonely earn : ' On many a cairn's 8 grey pyramid . Where urns of mighty chiefs he hid ; Till high Dunedin the blazes saw. From Soltra and Dumpender Law; And Lothian heard the Regent's order. That all should bowne9 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; Was frequent heard the changing guard. And walch-word from the sleepless ward ; While, v/earied by the endless din, Blood-hoimd and ban-dog yell'd within. XXXI. The noble Dame, amid the broil. Shared the gay Seneschal's high toil. And spoke of danger with a smile ; Cheer'd the young knights, and council sage Held with the chiefs of rijjer age. No tidings of the foe were brought. Nor of his numbers knew they aught, Nor what in time of truce he souglit. Some said, that there were thousands ten ; And others ween'd that it, was nought But Leven Clans, or Tynedale men. Who came to gather in black-mail : lo And Liddesdale, with small avail. Might drive them lightly back agen. So pass'd the anxious night away, And welcome was the peep of day. 4 See Appendix, Note 2 T. 5 Need fire, be 6 Tarn, a mounlain lake. 7 Earn, a Scottish eagle. 8 See Appendix, Note 2 U. 9 Bowne, make re(u;y. 10 Protection money exacted by freeljoolei V THE LAY OF THE LA8T MINSTREL. Cpnsed the hish sound— the listening throng Aptdami the Master of the Sons ; Anil marvel much, in helpless age, So hard should lie his pilsrima^e. Had he no friend— no daughter dear, His wandering toil to share and cheer; No son to he his father's stay, And guide iiin> on the rugged way? "Ay. once he had— but he was dead !"— Upon the harp he stoop'd his head, And hiisieil himself the strings withal, 'l"o hide the tear that fain would fall. In solemn measure, soft and slow, Arose a father's notes of woe. 2ri)c JLa^ of tlie Hast iHtnstrcl, CANTO FOURTH. I. Sweet Teviot 1 on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer sieel-dad warriors ride A Ions thy w Id and willow'd shore ; ■Where'er thou wind'.st, by dale or hill, All. all is peaceful, all is still. As if thy waves, since Time was horn. Since first' they roll'd 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 couise was dooiii'd to know ; And. darker as it dowiiwanl bears. Is stain'd with past and present te;irs. Low SIS I hat tide has ebb'd with me. It still reflects to Memory's eye The hour my brave, my only boy. Fell by the side of great Dundee. ^ Why. when the volleying musket play'd 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. III. Now over border, dale and fell. Full wide and far was terror spread ; For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, The peasant left his lowly shed. 3 The frighten'd flocks and herds were pent Beneath the peel's rude battlement; And maids and matrons dropp'd the fear, While ready warriors seized the spear. N 1 Onf. '• Since fir.- e Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy, Which, curling in the rising sun, Show'd southern ravage was begun.* IV. Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried— •' Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! Watt Tinlinn,5 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 twang'd the yew. Right sharp has been the evening shower, Tliai drove him from liis Liddel lower; And. by my faith," the gate-ward said. •'I think 'twill prove a Warden-Kaid."' While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman Kiiter'd the eihoing barbican. He led a small ;md shaggy nag, Tliat through a bog. from hiig to hag,' Could bound like any Billhope stag." It bore his vvife and children twain ; A half clothed serf ip was all the:r tra'D , His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-brow'd, Of silver brooch and bracelet proud. >* laugh'd to her friends among the crowd. He was of stature piissing tall. But sparely forni'd, and lean withal; A batter'd miiniHi on his brow; A leather jack, as fence enow. On his broad shoulilers loosely hung; A border axe behind was slung; His spear, six Scottish ells in length, Seeni'd newly dyed with gore ; His shafts and bovv. of wondrous strength, His hardy partner bore. VI. Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn show The tidings of the English foe : — " Belted Will Howard 12 is marching here, And hot Lord Dacre.'3 with many a speaf And all the German hackbut-nien,>'» Who h;ive long lain at Askerten : They cross d the Liddel at curlew hour, And burn'd my little lonely tower: The tiend receive their soul therefor! It had not been burnt this year and more. Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright, Served to guide me on my flight; But 1 was chased the livelong night. Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Grseme, Fast upon my traces came. Until I turn'd at Priesthaugh Scrogg, And shot their horses in the bog. tt 7 An inroad commiinded by the Warden in perxo 8 The broken ground in a bog. 9 See Appendix, Nole 2 Y. 10 Bondsman. 11 An Ihe Borderers were indifferenl about of their habiialiona, »o much exposed to h plundered, they were proporlio„ally anxioi splendour in di-coraiing and ornamenting th< See Lesley de Moribut Limitaneorum. 12 See Appendix, \oie 2 Z. 13 See Appendix. Nole 3 A. 14 Mueketeers. See Appendix, Note 3 B. Ihe rurnitare ' biirne.; an'' s to displaj ir femaleti.— A 7 28 SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. Slew Fergus with my Innce outright — 1 had him long at. high despiie : He drove my cows last Fustern's night." vri. Now weary scouJs from Liddesdale, Fiist hurrying in. ronfinn'd tlie tale ; As far as they could judge hy ken, Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand Three thousand armed Englishmen— Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, From Tevioi, A ill. and Ei trick shade, Came in, their Chief's defence to aid. There was saddling and mounting in haste, There was prickmg o'er moor and lea; He that was last at the trvsting-place Was but lightly held of his gaye ladye.i VIII. From fair St. Clary's sdver wave, From dreary Ganiescleuchs dnsky height, His ready lances Thirlestane brave Arrav'd beneath a banner bright. The treasured fleiir-ile-liice he claims. To wreathe his shield, since royal James, Encamp'd 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; And hence, in fair remembrance worn, Von sheaf of spears his crest has borne ; Hence his high motto shines reveal'd— " Ready, aye, ready," for the field.' IX. An aged Knight, to danger steel'd, With many a moss-trooper, came on: And azure in a golden field. The stars and crescent graced his shield, Without the bend of Murdieston 3 Wide lay his lands round Oakwood tower, And wide round haunted Castle-Ower; High over Borth wick's mountain flood, His wood-enibosom'd mansion stood ; Jn the dark glen, so deep below, The herds of plunder'd England low ; His bold retainers' daily fond, And bought with danger, blows, and blood. Marauding chief ! his sole delight The moonlight raid, the morning fight ; Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms, In youth might tame his rage for arms ; And still, in age, he spurn'd that rest, And still his brows the helmet press'd, Albeit, the blanched locks below Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow ; Five stately warriors drew the sword Before their father's band ; A braver knight than Harden's lord Ne'er belled on a brand.* X.5 Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, 8 Came trooping down the Todshawhill : are not in the Isl Ekli- ^ Auti 2 Si-e Appendix, Note 3 C. 3 See Appendix, Note S D. K See he«ides the note on tliis Rtania, one in the Border MtnKtrelsy, vol ii. p. 10. respecting Wat of Harden, Ihe .r'» ancestor, utiricil piece, entitled " The Town Eclogue," which I By the sword they wtm their land, .And hy the swcJrd they hold it still. I Hearken, I.adye, to the tale, I How thy sires won fair Eskdale. — I Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair. The Beattisons were his vassals there, i'he Earl was gentle, and mild of mood. I The vassals we're warlike, and fierce, and rude ; High of heart, and haughty of word. Little they reck'd of a tanie liege lord. The Earl into fair Eskdale came, Homage and seignory to claim : Of Gilbert the Galliard a heriof he sought. Saying. "Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought." — " Dear to me is my bonny white steed, Oft has he help'd 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 Beattison's ire, But that the Earl Ihe 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, Just on the threshold of Branksome gate. XI. The Earl was a wrathful man to see, Full fain avenged would he be. In haste to Branksome's Lord he spoke. Saying — "Take these traitors to thy yoke ; For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold. All Eskdale I'll sell thee, to have and hold : Beshrew thy heart of the Beattisons' clan If thou leavest on Esk a landed man ; But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone. For he lent me his horse to escape upon." A glad man then was Branksome bold, Down he flung him the purse of gold ; To Eskdale soon he spurr'd amain. And with him five hundred riders has ta'en He left his merrymen in the midst of the hill, And bade them hold them close and still ; And alone he wended to the plain. To meet with the G.illiard and all his train. To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said : — " Know thou me for thy liege-lord and head ; Deal not with me as with Morton tame. For Scotts play best at the roughest game. Give me in peace my heriot due. Thy bonny white steed, or thou shall rue. If my horn 1 three times wind, Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind.''— XII. Loudly the Beattison laugh 'd in scorn ; " Little care we for thv 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 h)ud and hoarse, That the dun deer started at fair Craikcrf)ss ; He blew again so loud and clear, Through the grey mountain-mist there did lances appear ; made much noise in EiiiiibiirKh shi of the Minstrelsy^ h:in 'hese lines :- •• A modern author spends : To prove his amestora noti 6 Stanzas X. xl xii. were not ii 6 See Appendix, Note 3 E. 7 The feudal superior, in certa the beat horse of the v rine appear; leaves, Kid. And the thir>l blast ran? wiih such a din, Tliat the echoes answe: d from Peutoun-liim, AirI all Ins u l^rs caiiie lialnly in. Tlieti had y:iu seen a Kalian; shock, Whensadilles were eniiitied.and lances bnike ! For each scoriU ul word i he Galliurd liad said, A Beattison on the field was laid. His own eond sword ilie chieftain drew. And he bore the Galliard through and through : Where the Beattisons' hlood niix'd with the nil. The Galhard's-Haugh men call it still. The Sciitis have scaiter'd the Beattison clan, In Eskdale tiiey left but one landed man. The valley of Kske, from the mouth to the source. Was lost and won for that boimy white horse. XIII. Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, And warriors inure tiian I may name ; From Yarrow-cleiicli to Hindhauafh-swair,' From Woodhouselie to Cliester-glen. Troop'd man and horse, and how and spear; Their g.itherin< word was Bellenden.2 And better hearts o'er Border sod To siege or rescue never rode. The Ladye mark'd the aids come in, And liiih her heart of pride arose : She bade her youthful son a' tend, Tiiai he might know his father's friend. And learn to f;ice his foes. "The boy is ripe to lo.>k on war; I saw him draw his cross-bow stiff, And his true arrow struck afar The raven's nest upon the cliff; The red cross c»n a southern bre:ist. Is broader than the raven's nest : Thou, Whitslade, shall teach hiin his weapon to wield. And o'er him hold his father's shield." XIV. Well may you think, the wily page Caretl not to face the Ladye sage. He counterfeited childish fear. And shriek'd, and shed full many a tear. And moan'd and plaiii'd in manner wild. The attendants to the Ladve told. Some fairy sure had changed the child, That wont to be so free and bold. Then wrathful was the noble dame ; She blush'd blood-red for very shame:— "Hence! ere the clan his faintness view; i Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch I — Watt Tinlmn, thou shalt be his guide To Rangleburn's lonely side. — ) Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, i That coward should e'er be son of mine I" — XV. A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had, To guide the counterfeited lad. Soon as the palfrey felt the weight, Of that ill-omen'd elfish freight. He bolted, sprung, and rear'd amain, Nor heeded bit. nor curb, nor rem. It cost Watt Tinhnn mickle toil To drive him but a Scottish mile; But as a shallow brook they cioss'd. The elf annd the ruiinin? stream. His figure chansed, like form in dream, And fled, and shouted, " Lost ! lost I lost !" 1 This and Itie three followiug lineH are not in the flrat I ^ Full fast, the urchin ran and lau?h'd. But faster sill a cloth-yard sh^fl Whistled from s'artled Tin!inn's yew. And pierced his .shoulder throu^jh and through. Although the imp might not les. and from the wall K.des forth the hoary Seneschal. XXI. Armed he rode, all save the head, \\i< vvliite heard o'er his breast-plate spread, I'liliroke hy age, erect his seat, I Ic ruled liis eager courser's gait ; Forced hini. with chasten'd fire, to prance, And. high curvetting, slow advance: In siun of truce, his better hand Disiihiv'd a peeled willow wand ; His Ncpiire. attending in the rear, Hope iiiirh a aauntlet on a spear. 2 When I hey espied him ridiiiir out, Lvide, And forward bent each southern spear ; Eiich Kendal archer made a stride. And drew the bowstring to his ear; Each niinstiel's war-note loud was blown;— Bur, ere a grey-goose shaft had flown, A horseman gallop'd from tlie rear. XXVIII. •' Ah !" noble Ix)rds !" he breathless said. " What treason has your march betray 'd ? What make you here, from aid so far. Before you walls, around you war? Your foenien triumph in the thought. That in the toils the lion's caught. Alre:idy on dark Ruberslaw The Dougl;is holds his we:;pon-schaw ;2 The lauces, 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 merry men good. Beneath the eagle and the rood ; And Jed wood. Eske, and Teviotdale, Have to proud Angus come ; And all the Merse and Lauderdale Have risen with haughty Home. An exde from Northumberland, In Liddesdale I've wander'd Ions; But still my heart was with merry England, And cannot brook my country's wrong; And hard I've spurr'd all night, to show Tlie mustering of the coming foe." XXIX. •' And let them come !'" fierce Djicre cried ; " For soon yon crest, my lather's pride. That swept the shores of Judah's sea. And waved in gales of Galilee. From Branksome's highest towers display'd, Shall mark the rescue's lingering aid !— Level each harquehus-s on row; Draw, merry archers, draw the bow; Up. bill-men, to the walls, and cry, Dacre for England, win or die !"— XXX. "Yet hear,'* quoth Howard, "calmly hear. Nor deem my words the words of fear : For who, in field or foray slack, Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back ? 3 But thus to risk our Border flower In strife against a kingdom's power, Ten thousand Scots "gainst thousands three, Certes, were desperate policv. Nay, take the terms the Ladye made, Ere conscious of the advancing aid : Let Musgrave meet fierce l>eloraiiie4 In single fight, and. if he gain, 1 J.ykr wait' the w itching a rotp e previnu.i to interment. 1 Weapjnuhaw, .lit- military array of a county. He gains for us ; but if he's cross'd, "I'ls but a single warrior lost : The rest, retreating as they came, Avoid defeat, and death, and shame." XXXL 111 could the haughty Dacre brook His brother Warden's sage rebuke; And yet his forward step he staid, And slow and sullenly obey'd. But ne'er again the Border side Dill these two lords in friendship ride , And this slight discontent, men say, Cost blood upon another day. XXXIL The pursuivant-at-arms again Before the castle took his stand ; His trumpet cali'd, with parleying stram, The leaders of the Scottish band ; And he defied, in Musgrave's right. Stout Deiorame to single fight; A gauntlet at their feet he laid. And thus the terms of fight lie said : — '• 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 band, Unharming Scots, by Scots unharm'd, In peaceful march, like men unarm'd. Shall straight retreat to Cumberland." XXXIII. Unconscious of the near relief. The proffer pleased each Scottish chief. Though much the Ladj'e .sage gainsay'd ; 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 pre.^cience own, Sprung from the art she might not name, By which the coming help was known. Closed w;is the compact, and agreed That lists should be enclosed with speed. Beneath the castle, on a lawn : They fix'd the morrow for the strife, On foot, with Scottish axe and knife. At the fourth hour from peep of dawn ; When Deloraine, from sickness freed. Or else a champion in his stead. Should for himself and chieftain stand. Against stout Musgrave, hand to hand. XXXIV. I know right well, that, in their lay. Full many minstrels sing and say. Such combat should be made on horse. 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 Archih;dd's battle laws,6 In the old Douglas" day. He brof>k'd not. he, that scoffing tongue Should tax his minstrelsy with wrong. M; SSee Appendix. Note 8 M. 6 See .\i.penilix, Note 3 O. 4 Ibid. Note i S. 6 Ibid. Note 3 P. SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS ^; Or call his sonar untrue : For this, when they the goblet plied, And such rude tuuiU had chafed his pride, Tlie Bard of ReuU he slew. On Teviot's side, in figriit they stood. And tuneful hands were stain'd with hlood ; Where still the thorn's white branches wave, Memorial o'er his rival's grave. XXXV. Whv should I tell the rigid doom, Tha't dragg'd my master to his tonib ; How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair, Wept till their eyes were dead and dim, And wrung their hands tor love of him, Who died at .ledwowl Air? He died !— his scholars, one by one. To t he 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 I'he strains, with envy heard before; For, with my minstrel brethren fled, My jealousy of song is dead . He paused : the listening dames again Applaud the hoary Minstrel's strain. With many a word of kindly cheer,— In pity half, and half sincere, — Marvell'd 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, Aiid twined round some new minion's head The fading wreath for which they bled ; In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse Could call them from their marble hearse The Harper smiled, well- pleased ; for ne'er Was flattery lost on poet's ear : A simple race ! they waste iheir toil For the vain liibute of a smile ; E'en when in age their flaiiie 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. S:j)e Hap of tt)e 3la.st IWfnstrcl. CANTO FIFTH. I. Cull 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 Baid 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. 11. Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn Those things inanimate can mourn , But that the stream, the wood, the gale, Is vocal with the plaintive wail Of those, who, else forgotten long, Lived in the poet's faithful song. And, with the poet's parting breath Whose memory feels a seccmd death. The Maid's pale shade, who wails her lot. That love, true love, should he forgot. From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear Upon the gentle Minstrel's bier: The phantom Knight, his glorv fled. Mourns o'er the field he heap'd with dead , Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain, And shrieks along the battle-i)lain. 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 undistiiiguish'd lie. His place, his power, his memory die : His groans the lonely caverns fill, His tears of rage impel the rill : All mourn the Minstrel's harp unstrung. Their name unknown, their praise unsung. III. Scarcely the hot assault was staid, The terms of truce were scarcely made. When they could spy, from Brank.some's towers. The advancing march of martial powers. Thick clouds of dust afar appear'd, And trampling steeds were faintly heard ; Bright spears,' above the columns dun. Glanced momentary to the sun ; And feudal banners fair display'd 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 12 Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn.s Where the Seven Spears of Wedderbunie* Their me i m battle order set ; And Swintrn laid the lance in rest. That tamed f>f yore the sparkling crest Of Clarence's Plantasjenct s Nor list 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, $. I Onf. " Spear-heads above the columns dun."— jEli. Q See Appendix, Nole 3 Cl. 3 In the firxt edition we read— *• Vails not lo lell what hundreds more From the rich Merse and Lammermore," &c. The linea on Wedderburne and Swintou were inseltixl iu ti« iMJcond edition.— Brf. Dav id Home of Wedderhurne, who was slain in tha ! of Flnd'len. lefr seven sons by his wife, Isabel, uhter of Hopprinele of Galashiels (now Pringle of litebiink.) They were tailed the Seven Spean of S See Appendix, Note 3 R. z 7^ THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 33 > And Hepburn's minded banners ccime, Down the steep mountain slitteruiEC far. And shouting still, '" A Home ! a Home ! Now squire and kniarht, from Branksome sent. On many a courteous message went; To every chief and lord they paid Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ; And toid liiem.— how a truce was made, And how a day of fi^ht was ta'en 'Twixt iMusijrave and stout Deioraine ; And how the Ladve pray'd them dear That all would stay the fisht to see. And deisn. in love and courtesy. To t;isie of Branksome cheer. Nor. while they bade to feast each Scot. \\ ere England's noble Lords forgot. Hmiself. the hoary Senesc^hal Kiide forth, in seemly :erms to call Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall. Accepted Howard, than whom knight W;is never duhh'd. more bold in fiirht ; 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 hos'ile armies met { Deemmg it were no easy task To keep the truce which here was set ; Where martial spirits, all on fire, Breahed only blood and mortal ire. — By mutual inro.ads. mutual blows, By habit, and by nation, foes, They met on Teviofs strand ; They met and sate them mingled down. Without a threat, wiihout a frown. As brothers meet in Ibreign land : The hands, the spear that lately grasp'd. Still in lh« mailed gaun let clasp'd. Were interchanged in irret'iiiig dear; Visors were raised, and faces shown. And many a friend, to fnend made known. Partook of social cheer. Some drove the jolly bowl about ; With dice and draughts some cliased the day And some, with many a merry shout, In riot, revelry, and rout. Pursued the foot ball play.2 VII. Yet. be it known, had bugles blown. Or sign of war been seen. Those bands, so fair together ranged. Those hands, so iranUly interchanged, Had dyed with gore the green : The meirv shout by Teviot-s;de Had sunk In war-cries wild and wide. And in the groan of death; And whjngers.3 now in friendship bare, The social meal to part and share. Had found a bloody sheath. 'Twi.xt truce and war, such sudden change W;is not infrequent, nor held strange. In the old Border-day A But yet on Branksome's towers and town, In [teacefu! merriment, sunk down The sun's declining ray. 1 S«r .\ppendij(. Note 3 S. 2 Ibid Noie3T. VIII, The blithsome signs of wassel gay Decay'd 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 rans With merry harp and beakers' clang : And frequent, on the darkening plain. Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran, As bands, their stragslers to resrain. Give the shrill watchword 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 nii','lit hear, from Branksome hill. No sound but Teviol's rushing tide ; Save when the changing sentinel The challenge of his" watch could tell; And save, where, throush the dark profound, The clanging axe and hammer's sound Rung from tlie nether lawn ; For many a busy hand toil'd there. Strong pales to shape, and beams to square,* The lists' dread barriers to prepare Against the morrow's dawn. Margaret from hall did soon retreat. Despite the Dame's reproving eye ; Nor mark'd slie. as she left her seat, Full many a stifled sigh ; For many a noble warr or strove To win tlie Flower of Teviot's love. And manv a bolii ally.— With throbbing head and anxious heart, All in her lonely bower apart, In broken sleep she lay : Hy times, from silken couch she rose : While yet the banner'd hosts repose. She view'd 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 lav; Where coursers' clang, and stamp, and snort. Had runs the livelong yesterday ; Now still as death ; till stalking slow,— The jingling spurs announced his tread, — A stately warrior pass'd below; But when he raised his plumed head- Blessed Mary ! can it be ?— Secure, as if in Ousenain bowers, He walks through Branksome's hostile towers With fearless step and free. She dared not sii^n, she dared not spe.ik— Oh ! if one page's slumbers break. His blood the price mus' pay! Not all the pearls Queen Mary wears. Not Margaret's yet niore precious tears. Shall buy his life a day. < See Appendix, Note 3 U. 6 Till* lioe is not in the first < 6 Ibid. Note 3 V. /: l7t SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS XII. Yet was his hazard small ; for well Von may betliiiik you of the spell Of thiitslv uroliui p-.iae; This to Ins 1.. id lie did impart, And ni;ide lum set^m, by slainour art, A kiiiRlil from Hermitage. Uncliallensed thus, the warder's post, The couit, unchiillenfred, thus he cross'd. For all the vassalage ; But O ! what masio's quaint disguise Could blind fair Margaret's azure eyes! She started from her seat ; While with surprise and fear she strove, And botli could sciarcely m;ister love- Lord Henry's at her feet. XIII. Oft have I mused, what purpose bad That foul malicious uiciiin had 'I'o 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 deem'd, perchance he thought Their erring p And died for her sake in Palestine, So love was still the lord of all. Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) I'ray for their souls who died for love, For love shall slill be lord of all I XIII. As ended Albert's simple lay. Arose a bard of loftier port; For sonnet, rhyme, and roundelay, Renown'd in haughty Henry's court: There rung thy harp, unrivall'd long, Filzi raver 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 tire. And his the bard's immortal name, ^ ^ A V THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. And his was love, exalted high By all the glow of chivalry. XIV. They sought, tosether, climes afar. And oft, within some olive grove, When even came with twiiiklin? star, They sime: of Surrey's absent love. His step the Italian peasant stay'd. And deem'd, that spirits from on high. Round where sun>e hermit saint was laid, Were breathing heavenly melody ; So sweet did harp and voice combine,' To praise the name of Geraldine. XV. Fitztraver! what tongue may say The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, When Surrey, ("if the deathless lay. Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew T Regardless of the tyrant's frown, His harp call'd wrath and vengeance down. He lett, for NaworMi's iron towers. Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers. And faithful to his patron's name. With Howard still Fitztraver came : f/>rd William's foremost favourite he, And chief of ail his minstrelsy. XVI. FITZTRWER. Twas AH-soul's eve, and Surre}''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 show to him the ladye of Ins heart. Albeit betwixt them roar'd the ocean grim ; Yet so the saee had flight 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 gramarye. To which the wizard led the guUant'Kiiiglit. Save that before a mirror, huge and high. A hallow'd 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 wan. As watcthlieht by the bed of some departing man. xvim. 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. Fair all the pageant— but how pa.ssing fair The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind : O'er her white bosom stray'd her hazel hair. ^ 1 Tint. Edit.- 3 See .\.ppeudi 4 The cl>i«f» of the VaJangr, or ScanUinaviao pirates, » ' So sweet their harp and voices join." . Note 4 G. 3 Ibid. Note 4 H. Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined ; All in her night-robe Itjoee'she lay reclined. And, pensive, read from tablet "eburiiine. Some strain that seem'd her inmost soul to find:- That favour'd strain was Surrey's raptured line. That fair and lovely form, the Lady Geraldine. XX. Slow roll'd the clouds upim the lovely form, And swept the goodly visum all away— So royal envy roll'd 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 ihy despotic sway, The gory bridal bed, the plunder'd shrine. The murder'd Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine ! XXI. Both Scots, and southern chiefs, prolong Applauses (»f Fitztraver's song; These hated Henry's name as death. And those still held the ancient faith. — Then, from his seat, with lofty air. Rose Harold, bard of brave St. Clair; St Clair, who, feasting high at Home, Had with that lord to battle come Harold was born where restless seas Howl round the storm-swept Orcailes ; 2 Where erst St. Clairs held princely sway (J'er isle and islet, strait and bay ;— Still nods their palace to its fall. Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall !— 3 'I'hence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave .\s if grim Odin rode her wave ; And watch'd, the whilst, with visage pale And throhbing heart, the struggling sail; F(»r all of wonderful and wild Had rapture for the lonely child. XXll. And much of wild and wonderful h\ these rude isles might fancy cull ; For thither came, in times afar. Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war. The Norsemen, train'd to spoil and blood, Skill'd to prepare the raven's food ; Kings of the main their leaders brave. Their barks the dragons of the wave 4 And there, in many a stormy vale, The Scald had told his wondrous tale ; And many a Runic column high Had witness'd grim idolatry. And thus had Harold, in his youth. Learn 'd many a Saga's rhyme uncoutli, — Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curl d. Whose monstrous circle girds the world ; ^ Of those dread Maids,6 whose hideous yell Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; Of Chiefs, who. guided through the gloom By the pale deaih-lights of the tomb, sumed the til inflated Unst peiits of the ocean. 5 Sec- Apuuilix, Note 4 1. 6 Ibid. Note 4 K. y4 SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS Ransar.k'd the graves of warriors old, Tlieir falchions wrench'il from corpses' hold,' Waked I he deaf tomb with war's alarms, And bade the dead arise to arms ! With war and wonder ail on flame. To Roslin's bowers youns Harold came, Where, by sweet Klen and greenwood tree, He learn'd sr milder minstrelsy ; Yet soniething of the northern spell Mix'd with the softer numbers well. XXIll. HAROLD. listen, listen, ladies g:ay ! .No haiightv feat of arms 1 tell , Soft IS the note, and sad the lay. That mourns the lovely Rosabel le.2 — " Moor, moor the barg:e, ye gallant crew ! And. sent le ladye. deis:n to si ay! Rest ll;ee in Caslle Ravensheuch.3 IS^or tempt the stormy firth to-day. "The blackening wave is edged with white: To inch-* and rock the sea-mews fly : The fishers liave heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode that, wreck is nigh " Last nis:ht the sifted seer did view A wet shroud swat heds round ladye gay; Then stay thee. Fair, in Ravenshench : Why cross the gloomy firth to-day 1"— "'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 fiU'd by Rosabelle."— O'er Roslin all that dreary night, A wondrous blaze w;is seen to gleam ; 'T was broader than the watch-fire's light. And redder than the bright moon-beam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock. It ruddied 6 all the copse-wood glen ; 'T was seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from cavern'd Hawthorndeu. Seem'd all on fire that clKipel proud. Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie, Each Baron, for a sable shroud. Sheathed in his iron panoply. Secni'd all on fire within, around, Deep sacristyT and altar's pale ; Shone every pillar foliase-bound. And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail.s Blazed battlement and pinnet high. Blazed every lose-carved buttress fair — So still tliev blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly hue of high St. Clair. 1 St-e .\ppendix. Note 4 L. 2 This was a family name in the house of St. Clair. Ifiiry St Clair, the kecond of (he line, married Bosabelle, oiinh daughter of (he Karl of Stratheriie. I Appendix, Nole 4 M. 4 Iitch, iale. There are twenty of Roslin's barons hold 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 tlie wild winds smig,9 The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. XXIV. So sweet was Harold's piteous l.ay. Scarce mark'd the quests the darken'd hall Though, long before the sinking day, A wondrous shade involved them all: It was not eddying mist or fog, Drain'd by thesnn from fen or bog; Of no eclipse had sages told; And yet, as it came on apace. Each one could scarce his neighbour's face. Could scarce his own stretch 'd hand behold. A secret horror check'd the feast. And chill 'd 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 grounil. And, shuddering, mutter'd, "Found! lound ! found !" XXV. Then sudden, through the darken'd air A flash of liffhtningcame; So broiid, so bright, so red the glare, The castle seem'd on flame. Glanced every rafter of :he hall. Oianced every shield upon the wall ; Eucii trophieil beam, each sc^ulptiired stone. Were instant seen, and instant gone; Full throiish the guests' bedazzled band Resistless flash'd the levin-brand. And fill'd the hall with smouldering smoke. As on the elvish page it broke. It broke, with thunder long and loud, Dismay'd the brave, appall'd 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 ! XX VL 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 I" And on the spot wliere burst the brand, Just where the page had flnn;; him down. Some saw tin arm, and some a hand. And some the waving of a gown. The guests in silence pray'd and shook. And terror dinim'd each lofty look. But none of all the astonish'd train Was so dismay'd as Deloraine ; His blood did freeze, his hrain did bum, 'Twas fear'd his mind would ne'er return; !1; 5 Firii Edit. " A wet shroud roWd." 6 First ElU. - It reddened," Sic. 7 FiT,t EdU. " Both vaulted rrypt," &,c. 8 See Append ix,Note4 N. 9 Fir It EdU. HUng." •■ But the kelpie rung and the mermaid ^ 7 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. ^ For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, l.ike liiin of vvlioni the story laii, V\ ho sfiiike llie s|ieclre-huuinl in Man i At lensrlli, !)>• tils, he darkly toUl. With broken hint, and shudclerin? cold— 'I'liut lie had seen, riffht cerlaiiily, A shape idtli amice wrap/M around. With a vcrmujht Spanish baldric bound. Like pilgrim from beyond the sea ; And knew— hilt l.ow it niatter'd not — It was llie %vizard, Michael Scott. XXVII. The anxious crowd, with horror pale. All treiiihling: heard the wondrous lafe; No sound was made, no word was spoke, 'i'lll noble Anurus silenco broke; And he a .solemn sacred plight Did to St. 13ride of" Douglas make,2 'I'liut he a pilRriniage would take 'I'o Melrose Abbey, for the sake Of Mirliael's restless sprite Then each, to ease his troubled breast, Tos- »halti-red from of Ni-wark's towers Renown'd in Border story. •' Fair stenes for childhood's opt-ning bloom. For sportive youth to stray in ; For manhood to enjoy his strenirlh ; And a^e to wear aw.iy in." *<■. Wordsworth's V'li A V. 42 So pass'd tlie winter's day; hut, still. When siimiiier smiled on sweet Bowhill,' And July's eve, with balmv lireath, V\ lived the blue-hells; on Newark heath ; When throstles suns in Hareiiead shaw. And <:orii was fjreen on Carlerhant:h.2 And flonrish'd, broad, Blaokandro's oak. The aged Harper's soul awoke ! APPENDIX TO THE ^ Tlien would he sing achievements high And circumstance of chivalry, Till the rapt traveller would stay, FitfRetful of the closing day; And noble youths, the strain to hear, Forsook the hunt in? of the deer; And Yarrow, as he roll'd alon^, Bore burden to the Minstrel's song. APPENDIX Note A. The feast was over in Branksome tower.— V. 16. In the rei?n of James I., Sir William Scott of Buccleuch, chief of the clan bearing lliat name, exchanged, with Sir Thomas Inslis of Manor, the estate of Murdiestoue. m Lanark- shire, for one-half of the barony of Branksome. or Brankholm.s lying upon the Teviot, about three miles above Hawick. He was probably induced to this transaction from tlie vicinity of Branksome to the extensive domain which he possessed in Ettrick Forest and in Teviot- dale. In the former district he held by occu- pancy the estate of Buccleuch.* and much of the forest land on the river Ettrick. In Te viotdale, he enjoyed the barony of Eckford, by a grant from Robert II. to his ancestor, Walter Scott of Kirkurd, for tlie appreliendim; of Gil- bert Rid.lerford, confirmed by Robert III. 3d May 1424. Tradition imputes the exchange betwixt Scott and Inglis to a conversation, m which the latter— a man, it would appear, of a mild and forbearing nature, complained much of the injuries wliicli he was exposed to from the English Borderers, who frequently plun- dered his lands of Branksome. Sir William Scott instantly offered him the estate of Mur- diesloiie. in exchange for that which was sub- ject to such egregious inconvenience. When the bargain was completed, hedryly remarked, that the cattle in Cumberland were as good as those of Teviotdale; and proceeded to com- nieiKie a system of reprisals upon the English, which was regularly pursued by his successors. In the next reisn. James 11. 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 pay- ment of a red rose. The cause assigned for the grant is, their brave and faithful exertions in favour of the king against the house of Douglas, with whom James had been recently tugging for the throne of Scotland. This charter is dated the 2d of February 1443 : and K 1 Bnwhill is now, an lias been mentioned already, a s( of the Duke of Buiileuch. It stands immediately beli Newark Hill, and above the jnnc-lion of tlie Yarrow and the Kilriok, For the other places named in the text, the reader is referred to various notes on the Minstrelsy of the (icoai^h Border. — Kd. •i Orig.~" And grain wnved green on Carterhaush " name of the bar in the same month, part of the barony of Lang- holm, iiiid 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 Iiislis, Branksome became the princi- pal seat of the Buccleuch family. The castle was enlarged and strengthened by Sir David Scott, the grandson of Sir William, its first possessor. But, in 1570-1, the vengeance of Elizabeth, provoked by the inroads of Buc- cleuch, and his attachment to the cause of Queen Mary, destroyed the castle, and laid waste tlie luiitls of Branksome. In the same year the t'astle was repaired and enlarged by Sir VValter Scott, lis brave possessor; but the work was not completed until after his death, in l.'i74. when the widow finished the building. This appears from the following iii.^cripiions. Around a stone, bearing the arms of Scott of Buccleuch. appears the following legend : — "Sir m\ Scott of BraiuiKiiu Huflt oc of Sir ffSJillifliu Scott of l^frkurtJ l^njjt bcQan i)e iDOvk upon je 24 of fEai-cl)C 1571 gear qufea tielicirtit at ©oTj's plcLsour ^z 17 ^pvil 1574 " On a similar copartment are sculptured the arms of Douglas, with this inscnpi ion, " Dame Margaret Dout/las his spoics complftit the fore- said work in Orlober 1.576." Over an arched door is inscribed the following moral verse: — ^w \)arlt). fs nocljt. nature. t)es. broufllit. flat. sal. lest. aj). ?rt)arcf ore. serbr. CSoti. kefp. befl. 3?e. rot), tftj). fame. sal. noclit, tickai). Sir 2l2;?alt£r Scott of Urnnrf;olm liufflt)t. IHarsarct 23oufllas. 1571. Branksome has been adopted, as suitable to the prouuneia tion. and more proper for poetry. 4 There are no vestiges of any building at Burcleucli. ex cept the site of a chapel, where, aceording to a traditioi current in the time of Seott of Satchells, many of the an cient barons of Buicleuch lie buried. There is also said I have been a mill near Ihis soliiaiy spot : nn extraordii.at; circumstance, as little or no corn ?rows within severn miles of Biicclenrh Sntchells says it was Used to giiiK com for Ihe hounds of the chieftain. z r ^ LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 43 Branksome Castle coniinupd to be tlie prin- cipal se;»t of the Baccieuoli family, while se- curity was atiy object in llieir choice of a man- sion. It litis since been the residence of the Commissioners, or Chaiuherlaius. of the family. From the various alterations which the build- imj hiis uiiileiscme. it is not oiilv greaily re- stricted ill Its dimensions, but retains little of the cajilellaied form, if we except one square tower of massy thickness, the only part of the orit^inal buildiii!? which now remains. The whole fiirms a haiid.some modern residence, lately inhabited by my deceased friend, Adam Osiivy, Ksq. of Hartwoodmyres. Commissioner of his Grace the Duke of Buccleuch. The extent of the ancient editice can still be traced by some vestiares of its foundaiion, and its sirenirtli is obvious from the situation, on a steep bank surrounded by the Teviot. and fl. inked hy a deep ravine, formed by a [irecipi- tous brook. It was anciently surrounded by wood, as a[jpears from the survey of Koxbuigh- shiie. made for Pout's Atlas, and preserved in the Advocates" Library. This wood wiis cut about tifty years asro, but is now replaced by the thnv'inar plantations, which have been formed by the noble proprietor, for miles around the ancient mansion of his forefatliers. Note B. Nine-and-twenty knights of fame Huiuj then- shitlds in Biauksonie-Hall.—P. 16. The ancient burons of Buccleuch, both from feudal splendour aud from their troiitier sii na- tion, retained in their houseliold at Branksome, a number of gentlemen of iheir own name, who held lands from their chief, for the military service of watchin? and wardina: his castle. Satchells tells us, in his do^grel poetry, " No baroa wa.'< better served in Britain • The barous of Buckleugh they kept their call, Four aud twenty geutlemeu in tbeir ball. All bein;; of bis name and kin ; Each two had a servant to wait upon them Before Bupper aud dinner, mnsi renowned, The bells rung and the trumpets sowued; And more than that, I do confess. They kept four anM twenty pen-ioncra. Think not I lie. nor do me blame. For the penMoners 1 can all name There 's men alive, elder than 1, They know if 1 speuk truth, or lie. Kvery pensiother a rooml did gain. For servire done and to be done ; This let the reader understand. The name both of the men and land, Wliuh tliey iiosse.ssed, it is of truth. Both from the L.iirds and Lords of Buckleugh." Accordingly, dismounting from his Pejr:isus, 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 garristm was doubtless augmented. Satchells adds, " These twenty-three pensioners, all of his own name of Scott, and Walter Gladstaues 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 , portion of laud. of the country better than it is to me, that the rent of these lands, which the Ltiirds and Lords of Buccleuch did freely bestow upon their friends, will amount to above twelve or four- teen thousand merks SL-yearV—Hislory of the name of Scott, p. 45 An immense sum ui those times. Note C. " tmth Jedwood-axe at saddlebow — P. 16. "Of a truth," says Froissart. "the Scottish cannot boast great skill with the bow. but rather bear axes, with which, in time of iieeil, they give heavy strokes." The Jedwood-axe was a sort of partisan. vii"'.i\ by horsemen, as appeai-s from the arms of Jedburgh, which bear a cavalier mounted, and aimed with this wea- pon. It IS also called a Jed wood or Jeddart statf. Note D. Thfy watch, a/jarnst Southern force and (/utle, Lfsl Scroop., or Howard, or Ferry's powers. Threaten Branksoim's lordly towers, From Wnrkworth. or Naworlh, or meriy Car- Lsl£. — P. 16. Branksome Castle was continually exposed to the atiacks of the Eiijjlish. both frtmi its si- tuation and the restless military disposition of its mhabit-ints, who were seitlorii on good terms wiih their neighbours. The following letter from the Earl of Northumberland to Henry VIIL 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 prisniier, the l.airil of Buccleuch. It occurs in the Col- ton MS. Calu/. b viii. f 222. " Pleaseih yt your most gracious highness to be aduertised, that mv comptroller, with Ray- nald Carnaby. desyretl licence of me to iuvatJe the realme of Scotlaiide, for the annoysaunce of your liiglines enemys, where they thought best exploit by iheyme might be done, and to liaue to concur withe they'me the inhabitants of Norihumberland. suclie as was towards me according to theyre assembly, and as by theyre discretions vpon the same they shulde thinke most convenient ; and soo they dyde meet vppone Monday, before ni^ht, being the iii day of this insiant nionelhe. at VV'awhope, upon Norlhe Tyne water, above Tyndaill, where they were to the number of xvc men, and soo invailet Scotland at the liour of viii of the clok at nyu:ht, at a place called Whele Causay ; and before xi of the clok dyd send forth a forrey of Tyndaill and Kyddisdail. and laide all the resy- dewe in a bushmt-nt. and actyvely did set vpon a towiie called Braiixholn e. where the Lord of Biicloush dwellythe. and purpesed theyme- selves with a trayne forhym lyke to his accus- tomed manner. Ill rvsynge to all frayes; albeit, that knysht he was not at home, and so they brynt the said Bianxliolin, and other townes. as' to say Whichesire. WhicJiestre-helme, and VVhellev,and haid ordered theymself, soo that sundrv'of the .said Lord Bucluugh's serv.inis, who dyd issue fourthe of his gates, wiis lakyu ^ 'T Z / 7 44 APPENDIX TO THE ^ \ prisoners. They dyd not leve otie house, one stHiv of come, nor one shyef, without the gate of the said Lonl Biicloush vnbiyiile, ami thus scrym.iged and frayed, supposing the Lord of Bnch)ii«:h to be wit.liin lii or liii iriyles to have travned hin '.o the bushnient; and soo ni the breyking of he day dyd the forrey and the bnshinent mete, and reculed homeward, mak- ing theyre way westward from tlieyre invasion to be over Lyddersdaill, as intending yf the fray fronie theyre furst entry by the Scotls waiches, or otherwyse by waniying, shuld haue bene gyven to Gedwortli and tlie coun- trey of Scotland tlieyreabouts of theyre inva- sion : whiche Gedworlh is from the Wlieles {^ausay vi miles, tliattheieby the S<;otts shulde iiave oomen further vnto tlieynie, and more out of ordre; and soo upon sundry good con- siderations, before they entered Lyddersdaill, as well accompting the inhabitants of the same to be towards your highness, aud to enforce theyme the nioie thereby, as alsoo to put an occaNion of suspect to the Kinge of Scotts.and his counsaill, to be taken anenst theyme, aiiionges theymeselves, made proclaniacions, (Mimmandmg, vpon payne of dethe. assurance to be for the said inhabitants of Lyddersdaill, Without any prejudice or liurt to be done by any Inglysman vnto theyme. and soo in good ordre ;ibowte the howre often of the clok be- fore none, vppon Tewisday, dyd pass through the said Lyddersdail, wlien dyd come diverse of the said inhabitants Iheretomy servauntes. under the said assurance, offering theymselfs with any service thev couthe make ; and thus, thanks be to Godde. your highnes' subjects, abowte the iiowre of xii of tlie clok at none the same daye, name into this your highnes realme, bringing wt theyme above xl Srotts- nien prisoners, one of theyme mimed Scot, of the surname and kyn of the said Lord of Buc- lough, and of his howsehold ; they brought also ccc nowte, and above Ix horse and mares, keping in f-avetie fronie losse or liuite all your said higlines suhiecls. There was alsoo a tovviie. called Newliyg^ins, by diverse fotmen of lymlaiU and Ryddesdaill. takyn vp of the night, and spoyled, when was slayne ii Scotts- nieii of the said towne, and many Scotts there hurte ; your highnes subjects was xiii inyles witliin the grouiide of Scollande. and is from my house at Uerwort he, above Ix miles of the most evil passage, vvhe're great snawes doth Ive ; liereKjfore the same towties now brynt haith not at aii> tyme in the mynd of man in any wans been enterprised unto nowe; your subjects were thereto more encouniged for tlie better advancement of your highnes ser- vice, the said Lord of Buclough beyng always a morlall enemy to this your Gnices realme. and he dyd say, within xiii days before, he woulde se(^ who durst lye near hym ; wt many other cruell words, the knowledge whereof was certainly liaid to my said servaunls. be- fore theyre eiiterprire maid vpon him; most humbly tieseecliing your majesty, liiat youre highnes thanks may concur vnto theyme, whose names be here inclosed, and to have in your m jst gracious memory, the paynefull and diligentservice ol my pore servaunle Wharton, and thus, as I am most bouiiden, shall dispose wt them that be under me f annoy- saiince of your highnes eneniys." In resent- ment of this foray, Buccleuch, with otiier Border chiefs, assembled an army of 3000 riders, with whic^h they penetra'ed into Nor- thumberland, and laid waste, the country as far its the lianks of Braiiiisli. They baffled, or defeated, the English forces opposed to them, and reluiiied loaded with prey.— Pi7i/cerlOH's HLsLory, voL ii. p. 318. Note E. Bords lony shnll tell. How lord Waller fell. — ?. 16. Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch succeeded to his grandfather. Sir Uavid, 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 Kens, the history of which is necessary, to explain repeated allusions in the romance. In the year L^B, in the words of Pitscottie, '•the Earl of Angus, and the rest of the Dou- glas.^^es, ruled all winch they liked, and no man durst say the contrary ; wherefore tlie King (James V. then a minor) was heavilv displeased, and would fain have been out o'f their hands, if he might by any way : And, to that eti'ecl, wrote a quiet and secret letter witii his own hand, and sent it to the Laird of Buc- cleuch. 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 (rtsl) of his lords, as he thinks exr)edient. "This halter was quietly directed, and sent by one of the King's own secret servants, which was received very thankfully by the Laird of Buccleuch, 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 Kins 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 lioniecoming. 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 re- main there all that night, •• But when the Lord Hume, Cessfoord and Fernyherst, (the chiefs of the clan of Ken,) took their leave of the King, and returned home, then appeared the Lord of Buccleuch in sight, and his coiiijiany with him, in an ar- rayed battle, intending to have fulfilled the King;'s petition, and therefore came stoutly forward on the b:ick 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 man-elled what the matter meant: while at the last tliey knew the Laird of Buccleuch, with a certain com- pany of the thieves of Annandale. With liini they were less alfeared, and made them man- fully to the field contrary iliem, and said to the King in this manner, ' Sir, yon is Buccleuch, and thieves of Annandale with him, to uiibe- set your Grace from the gale,' [i t. interrupt 'T A 7^ LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 45 \ your passaRe.) '1 vow to Goil they shall either fisht or flee ; and ye s'lall tarry here on this know, and niy bioiher Georse with you, with any other coni()any you pl«ase ; and I shifll pass, and put yon thieves off tlie ground, and rid tlie gate unto your Grace, or else die for it.' The King tarried still, as was devised ; and George Douglas with him. and sundry other lords, such as the Earl of Leiuiox, and the Lord Erskine.and some of the King's own servants; but all the lave {rrst) past with the Earl of Angus to the tield against the Laird of Bucclench, who joyned and countered cruelly both the said parties in the field of DarneUnver.i 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 pos.sihle haste, with him the Lairds of Cessfooid and Fernyhirst, to the number of fourscore spears, and set freshly on the lap and wing of the Laird of Buocleuch's field, and shortly bare them backward to the eround ; which caused the Laird of Buccleuch, and the rest of his fr.ends, to go hack and flee, whom tliev fol- lowed and chased ; and especially the Laiids of Cessfoord and Fernyhirst followed furious lie, till at the foot of a path the Laird of Cess foord was slain by the stroke of a spear by an Elliot, who was then sei-vant to the Laird of Buccleuch. But when the Laird of Cessfoord was slain, the chase ceased The Earl of Angus returned asain with great nierriness and victory, and thanked God that he s;ived him from that chance, and passed with the King to Melioss, where they remained all that niffht. On the morn they past to Edmbuigli with the King, who was very sad and dolorous of the slaughter of the Laird of Cessfoord , and many other aentlemen and yeomen slain by the Laird of Buccleuch, conlaniing the number of fourscore and fifteen, which died in defence of the King, and at the command of his writ- ing." 1 am not the first vvho has attempted to ce- lebrate in verse the renown of this ancient baron, and his hazardous attempt to procure his sovereign's freedom. In a Scottish Latin poet we find the following verses :— V.\LTERIUS SCOTUS B.VLCLUCHItJS, Kgrcgio 8Usceplo faciiiorc, liberlate Rrgis .ic aliis lebuis geslis clarus, sub JACOBO V. A". Christi, 1626. •" Intenlata aliis, nullique audita priorum Audft, nee pavidiim mnrsve, melusvc quatit, Liberlaiem aliis soiiti transciberr Rfgis: Subreplam ham- Re^i rt>siilui«se paras; Si viiicis, quanta o suixediint praemia dextrae ! Sill vidua, falsas epesjace, pone aiilmam. Hcsllca visnocuit : staut altae robora rneniis Alqup decus. Viucel, Re?e probante. fides Insita quels animis virlus, quosque acrior ardor Obsidel, obscuris nox premal an tcnebria 7" In consequence of the battle of Melrose, there ensued a deadly feud betwixt the names of Scott and Kerr, which, in spite of all means used to bring about an agreement, raged for many years upon the Borders. Buccleuch was imprisoned, and his estates forfeited, in the year 1535, for levying war aganist the Kerrs, 1 Parnwick, near Melrose. The place of conflict is slill tailed Simmer's Field, from a corruption of Slam [See Iht Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vols. and restored by act of Parliament, dated 16th March. 1542, during the regency of Mary of Lorraine. But the most signal p(iy cannot readily explain. Tiiey are supposed lo 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 tlie Holy Land to his castle of Drummelziar, found his fair lady nursing a liealihy 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 it spoken, was so rare, that it requiped a mira- culous solution. The lady, therefore, was be- lieved, when she averred, confidently, that the S(>irit of the Tweed had issued from the river while she was walking upon its bank, and com- pelled her to submit to his embraces ; and the name of Tweed le was bestowed upon the child, who afterwards became Baron of Drummel- ziar, and chief of a powerful clan. To those Slants were also ascribed, in Scotland, the When the workmen were engaged in erect- ing the ancieni church of Old Deer, in .Aber- deenshire, upcm a small hill called Bissau, they were surprised to find t!;at the work was im- peded by supernatural obstacles. At length, the Spirit of the River was heard to say. "Il is not here, it is not here. Thai ye shall bulM Ihe church of Deer; Bui on Tapl ■ Wl nauy a corpse shall lie. The site of the edifice was accordingly trans- ferred to Taptillery, an eminence at some distance from the place where the building had been commenced — Maclarlane's MSS. 1 mention these popular fables, because the introduction of the H.veraiid .Mount.tiii Spirits may not. at first sisht, seem to accord with the general lone ot the romance, and the super- stitions of the country where the scene is laid. Note N. A fanned moss-trooper, 4-c. — P. 17. This was the usual appellation of Hie ma- rauders upon the Borders ; a profession dili- genily pursued by the mhabiiitnts on both sides, and by none more actively and success- fully than by Buccleucli'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, con- tinued to pursue their calling. Fuller includes, among the wonders of Cumperland " The moss troupers : so strange in the condition of their living, if coiisiilered in their Orujtnal, Incrtase, Heiyht, Decay, and Rtiine. •'1. Ori ^ V APPENDIX TO THE \ Note 0. tame the Unicorn's pride. Exalt the Crescent an J the Star. — P. 18. Tlie arms of the Kerrs (if Cessfonl were. Vert on a clieveron, betwixt three unicorns' heads erased arijeni, three mullets sable; crest, a unicorn's head, erased proper. 'V\\e. Scotls of Buccleuch hore. Or, on a bend azure : a star of six points betwixt two crescents of the tirst. Note P. "William of Deloraine. — P. 18. The lands of Deloraine are joined to those of Bnccleunh in Etirick Forest. They were imniemorially possessed by the Buccleuch fa- mily, under the strong title of occupancy, al- though no charter was ol)taiiied from the crown untd 1546. Like oiher possessions, the lands of Deloraine were occasionally granted by tiiem to vassals, or kinsmen, for Border ser- vice. Salchells mentions, among: the tweiity- fourgeivtlemen-pensioners of the family, " Wil- liam Scott, comiiioiily called Citt-at-lfie- Black, who had the lands of Nether Deloraine for his service." And asiiin, " This William of Delo- raine, 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 Dekiraine now give an eiirl's title to tne de- scendant of Henry, the second surviving son of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth. 1 have endeavoured to give William of Delo- raine the attributes which characterised the Bordeiers of his day; for which 1 can only plead Froissart's apology, thai, " it behoveih, in a lynage, some to be folyshe and outrageous, to maynteyne and sustayne the peasable." As a contrast to my Marchman, 1 beg leave to transcribe, from the same author, the speech of Amergot Marcell, a captain of the Adventu- rous Companions, a robber, and a pillager of the country of Auvergne, who had been bribed to sell his strongholds, and to assume a more honourable military life under the banners of the Karl of Armagiiac But '• when he remem- bered alle this, he was sorrowful ; his tresour he thought he wolde not mynysshe ; he was wonte dayly to serche for new pylhiges, wher- bye enciesed his profyle, and then he sawe that alle was closed fro' him. Then he sayde and iinagyned, that to pyll and to robbe (all thynge considered) was a good lyfe, and so repented him of his good doing. On a tyme, he said to his old companyons, "Sirs, there is no sporte nor glory in this worlde amonge men of warre, but to use suche lyfe as we have done in tyme past. What a joy was it to us when we rode forth at adventure, and somtyme found by the way a riche priour or nierrhaunt, or a route of mulettes of Mountpellyer, of Nar- honne, of Lymens, of Fongans, of Besyers, of Tholous, or of C'arcasonne. laden with cloth of Brussels, or pell re ware comynge fro the fayres, or laden wnh spycery fro Bruges, fro Danias, o" fro Alysaundre; whatsoever we met, all was ours, or els ransoumed at our pleasures , dayiy we gate new money, and the I vyllaynes of Auvergne and of Lymosyn dayly provyded and brought to our castell wheie mele, good wynes. beffes, and fatte motions, pullayne. and wilde foule : We were ever fur- nyshed as tho we had been kings. When we rode forthe, all the counlrey trymbled for feare : all was ours govng and comynge How tok we Carlast.I and the Bourge of Companye, and I and Perot of Bernoys took Caluset ; how dyd we scale, with lylell ayde, the strong cas- tell of Marquell, pertayning to the Erl Dol- phyn : I kept it nat past fyve days, but 1 re- ceyved for it, on a feyre table, fyve thousande frankes, and forgave one thousande for the love of the Erl Dolphin's children. By my fayih, this was a fayre and a good lyfe ! where- fore I repute myselfe sore deceyved, in that I have rendered up the fortress of Aloys; for it wolde have kept fro alle the worlde. and the daye that I gave it up, it was loin nyshed with vytalles, to have been kept seven yere without any re-vytallinge. This Erl .if Army- nake hath deceyved me : Olyve Barbe, and Perot le Bernoys, shewed to me how I shulde repente myselfe ; ceriayne I sore repente my- selfe of what I have done.' " — Fioissarl, vol li. p. 196. Note Q. By wily turns, by desperate bounds, Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds. ■P. IC. 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 infornis us, that Kobert 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 whicli overhung the water; thus, leaving no trace on land of his foolsteps, he baffled the scent. The pursuers came up : " Ryoht 10 tht burn thai passyt ware, Boi Ihr s|,-ulh-liuij(l made stinting tliar, And waueryt lanj? tyme la and fja. That h.- na ceriain Bale inuih gn ; Till at the last that John of Lome Perseuvii the hund ihe sleuth had Inrne." The Bruce, Book Vil. A sure way of stopping the dog was to spill blood upon the track, which destroyed the discriminating tineness of his scent. A cap- tive was sometimes sacriliced on such oct^a- sioiis. Henry the Minstrel tells a romantic story of Wallace, founded on this circum- stance : — The hero's little band had been joined by an Irisliniiin, named Fawdoun. or Fadzean, a dark, savage, and suspicious chi- racter. After a sharp skirmish at Black-Erne Side, Wallace was forced to retreat with only sixteen followers The Eiigl.sli pursued with a Border sleuth-bratch, or blood-hound. " In Gelderl.md ihere was that bratchet bi^, Silier of sieni, lo follow them that fled ; So was he used in Kske ai.d Liddesdail, While (i. e. Ml) she gat blood no Heeing might avail." In the retreat, Fawdoun. tired, or affecting to be so, Would go no farther. Wallace, having in vain argued with hini. in hasty anger strucK off his head, and continued the retreat, vv hen the English came up, their hound stayed upon the dead boily ;— yA 7 ^ LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, 49 The story concludes with a line Gothic scene of terror. Wallace took refuse in tlie solitary tower of Gask Here he was dislurhed at midnight by the blast, of a horn He sent out iiis attendants by two and two, but no one, re turned with ti(hn2:s. At leni^th, when he w;ts left alone, the sound was heard still louder. Tlie champion descended, sword in hand ; and, at the gate of the tower, w;ls encountered by the headless spectre of Fawdoun, whom h»; liad slain so rashly. V\ alluce. in great terror, fled up into the tower, tore open the b.iards ot a window, leapt down fifteen feet in tieiiilit, and continued his fliglit u the river Looking back to Gask, he discuiver 1 the lower on tiie, and the foiin of Fawdo i upon the hattle- iiients.dilaied loaniuimei ;esize. and hoidiiiv in Ins hand u blazjig n 'er. Tlie Minstrel concludes, " Trust ryght wele, Ihat all • is he .eootli iiiderd. Supposing il to tie no point c Jie creid." Tht WeUiace. Book v. Mr Ellis has extracted ' . 5 tale as a sample of Henry s poetry. — UpecimeHS of Enylish I'o- tlry, vol. i. p, 351. Note R. the MoathiWs mnund, Wkere Druid's shades still fliUed round— V. 18. This is a round artificial mount near Hawick, which, from its name, (iHot. Ana. Sax Con- cilium, Coiwinltis.) was probably used as a place for assembling a national council of the adjacent tribes There are many such mounds in iScotland, and they are sumetiiiies, but laiely, of a square form. Note S. the tovxr of Hazeldean — P. 18. The estate of Hazeklesin, corruntly Hassen- Oean. belonged formerly to a family of Scotls, tlius commemorated bv Sachells : — Note T. On Mintocraijs the moon-beams glint. — P. 18. A romantic assemblage of cliffs, which rise suddenly above the vale of Teviot, in the im- mediate viciniiyof the family-seat, from which Lord Mino takes his title A small platform, on a projecting cran:, commanding a most beau- tiful prospect, is termed BarnhMs'' Bid. This Barnhills is said to have been a robber, or out- law. Tliere are remains of a strong tower beneath the rocks, where he is supposed to have dwelt, and from which he derived his name. On the summit of the crags are the fraemenis of another ancient tower, in a pic- turesque situation. Among the hou-es cast by the Karl of Hartforde. in 1545, occur thf^ tOAcrs of Easter Barnhiiis, and of Miiito crag, wiih MinU) town and place. Sir G,lhew.--Elliot, falhtr to the pre.->eiit Lord Miiilo.' was the aithor of a beautiful pasloral song, of which the following is a more correct copy than is Usually published. 'I'he poetical luant'e of Sir Gilljert Elliot has descended to his family. " My Blieep I ncglerled. I broke my slict-p-hook. And all ilie gay haunts of my youih I forsook : No more for Amynta fresh garUnds I wove; Ambition. I naul. would soon cure me of love. Bill what had my youth wjth ambition lo do ! Why left I Amyiila ! why broke I my vcw ! " Through regions remote in vain do I rove. And bid the wide world secure inc from love. Ah, fool, 10 imagine thai 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 ! >iis too late af thy fate lo repine ! Poor shepherd, Amynta no more can be thine ! Thy tears are all fruillesa, 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 I" ^: Note U. Ancient RiddelVs fair domain. P. 18. The family of Riddel! have been very long m possession of the barony called Riddell, or Ryedale, part of which slill bears the latter name. Tradition carries their antiquity to a point extremely remote; and is, m some de- gree, sanctioned by the discovery of two stone coffins, one containing an earthen pot filled with .ishes and arms, bearing a legible date, A. D. 727 ; the other dateti 936, and filled with the bones of a man of gigantic size. 7'liese coffins were discovered in the foundations of what was, but has long ceased to be, the chapel of Kiddell ; and as it was argued, with plausi- bility, that they contained the remains of some ancesiore of the family, ih<-y were depo.sit«d in the modern place of sepulture, comparatively so termed, though built in 1110. But the fol- lowing curious and authentic documents war- rant most conclusively the epi'het of "ancient Riddeil :" 1st, A charter liy David I. to Walter Rydale, Sheriff of Roxburgh, confirming all the estates of Liliesclive, &c., of winch his laiher, Gervasius de Rydale, died possessed. 2tlly, A bull of Pope Adrian IV., confirming the will of Waller de Ridale, knight, m favour of his bro'her Anschitiil de Ridale, dated 8ih April, 115.5. 3dly, A bull of Pope Alexander III., con- firming the said will of Walter de Ridale, be- queatiiing to his brother Anschitiil the lands of Liliesclive, Wiietiunes, &.C , and ratifying the bargain betwixt Anschiltil and Huctre'dus, coiicernmg the church of Liliesclive, in con- sequence of the mediation of Malcolm II., and confirmed bv a charter from that monarch. Tins bull is'dated 17th June. 1)60. 4tlily, A bull of the same Pope, confirming the will of Sir Anschittel de Ridale. m favour of his son Walter, conveying the said lands of Liliesclive and others, dated 10th March. 1120. It is re- markable, that Liliesclive, otherwi-e Rydale, or Riddell, and the Whittunes, have descended, tlirough a huia: train of ancestors, without ever APPENDIX TO THE ^; passing into a collateral line, to the person of Sir John Buchanan l^itldell, Bart, of Riddell, llie hneal descendant and representative tif Sir Anschittel.— These rircumsitaiices appeared worthy of notice in a Border woik.» Note V. Bui. when Melrose he renchfid 'twas silence all ; He nwflly stabled his steed in stall, And sought the convent's lonely wall.— P. 19. The ancient and beautiful mona.srery of Mel- rose was founded by Kin? David I. Its ruins aHord the finest specimen of Gothic arciiitec- ture and Gotliic sculpture which S(^otland can boast. The stone of which it is built, though il. has resisted the weather for so many ages, retains perfect sharpness, so that even the most minute ornaments seem as entire as when newly wrouglit. In some of the clois- ters, as is hinted in the next C.aiito, there are representations of flowers, vegeiables, &c., carved in stone, with accuracy and precision so delicate, that we almost disinist our senses when we consider the difficulty of sulijectmg so hard a substance to such intricate and ex- quisite modulation This superb convent was dedicated to St. Mary, and the monks were of the Cistertian order. At the tune of the Ke- formation, they shared the general reproach of sensuality and irregularity, thrown upon the Komun churchmen. Tlie old words of Gala- thiels, a favourite Scotch air, ran thus :— O the monks of Mrlr-'se made gude kale, '2 On Fridays when Iht-y fasled. They wanted neither beef nor ale. As long as their neighbours' lasted. Note W. When buttress and buttress, nltcrnatety, SrP7n framed of ebony and ivory ; W hm silver edijrs the imwjery. And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die. Then view St. David's rui?i'd pile.— P. 19. The buttresses ranged along the sides of the rums of Melrose Abbey, are, according to the Gothic style, richly carved and fretted, con- taining niches for the statues of saints, and labelled with scrolls, bearing appropriate texts of Scripture. Most of these siatues have lieen demolished. David 1. of Scotland purchased the reputa- tion of sanctity, by founding, and liberally en- dowing, not only the monastery of Melrose, but those of Kelso, Jedburgh, and many others; which led to the well-known observation f)f his successor, that he was a sore saint for the Note X. For mass or prayer can 1 rarely tarry. Save to patter an Ave Mary. When I ride on a Bordtr foray. — P. 20. The Borderers were, as may be supposed, very ignorant about religious matters. Col- ville. in his Paranesis. or Admonition, states, hat the reformed divines were so far from un- dertaking distant journeys to convert the Hea- then, ''as I wold wis at God that ye wold only go hot to the Hielands and Borders of our own realm, to gain our awin coiiiitreymen. v/ho, for Jack of preching and ministration of the sacraments, must, with tyme, becum either inlidells, or atheists." Hut we learn, ftoin Lesley, ihat, however deficient in real religion, they regularly told their beads, and never with more zeal than wlien going on a plundering expedition. Note Y. So had he seen, in fair Castile, The youth in glittering squadrons start : Sudden the flying jennet wheel. And hurl the unexpected dart. — P. 20. " By myfayth," sayd the Duke of Lancaster, (to a Portuguese squire,) " of all the feates of firmes that the Castellyans, and they of your coiintrey doth use, the castynge of their dertes best pleaseth me, and gladly 1 wolde se it; for, as 1 hear say, if they strike one aryghte, with- out he be well armed, the dart will pierce him thrughe."— "Bymy fayth, sir," sayd the squyer, "ye say trouth ; for I have seen many a grete stroke given with them, which at one lime cost us derely, and was to us great displeasure ; for, at the said skyrmishe. Sir John Lawrence 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 wiih sylke, and passed thrughe his body, so that he fell down dead."— i^rrwssarf, vol. ii ch.44. — This mode of fighting with darts was imitated in the military game called Jeugo de las canas, which the Spaniards borrowed from their Moorish in- vaders. A Saracen champion is thus described by Froissart : "Among the Sarazyns. there w;is a yonge knight called Agadinger Dolyferne ; he was always wel mounted on a redy and a lysht horse ; it seemed, when the horse raiine. that he did fly in the ayre. The knighte seemed to be a good man of amies by his dedes ; he bare always of usage three fethered dartes, and rychie well he could handle them; and, ac- cording to their custome, he was clene armed, with a long white towell about his head. His apparell was blacke, and his own colour biovvne, tiiul a good horseman. The Crysten men say, they tlioughte he dyd such deeds of amies for the love of some yonge ladye of his couiitrey. And true it was, that he loved en- tirely the King of Thune's daughter, named the Lady Azala; she was mherytor to the realme of Tliuiie, after the discease of the kyng, her father. This Agadinger was sone to the Duke of Olyferue. I can nal telle if they were married together after or nat ; but it was shewed me, that this knyght. for love of the sayd ladye, during the siege, did many feates of amies. The knyghles of France wold fayue have taken hyni ;' but they colde never attrape nor inclose him ; his horse was so swyft, and so redy to his hand, that alwaies he escaped."— Vol. h. ch. 71. A 7" LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. N- Note Z. AtuI th'TP. thr dijinu lamps dul burn, Bffore thy low and lonrly urn. O gallant Chief oj OUtrbunw.'—T 20. The famous atkl deNperate battle of Oiter- Durne was fought 15th Aiis^iisi, 1388. betwixt Henry Percy, railed Iloispur. and Jamea, Earl of iXiiiKJas. D'ltli ilie.se niiovviied rliampioiis were at the lieatl nf a fliosen iHwly of troops, and tliey were rivals in iiiditary fame; so that Froissart uffirnis 'Of all the battayles an;allaut Ramsay, lo Iht .tTecliiig nanner in which from dfMribiiig the death fhich it excited : ^ ' To tell you there of the manere. It 18 bot Borrow for ill here; He wes the grcttasi mcnyd man Thai oiiy cowih have thowrhl of than. Of hi» blale, or of marc he fare : All menyt him, bath beityr and war i of Douglas, in revense. according to some aii- I hors, of lAiitii>ay's murder ; although a popular tradition, [(reserved in a ballad quoted bv Gods- rrofi, and some parts of which are still pre- served, astcnbes the resentment of the Earl to jealousy. The place where the Knight of Lid- desdale was killed, is called, from his name, V\ ilham-Cross, upon the ridge of a hill called William hope, betwixt Tweed and Yarrow. His body, accitiding to Godscioft. was carried to Liiidean church the first night after hts death, and thence to Melrose, where he was interred with great pomp, and where his tomb is still shown. Note 2 B. Thf moon on the east oriel shone. — P. 20. It is impossible to conceive a more beautiful pecimen of the lightness and elegance of Gothic architecture, when m its puritv, than he eastern windciw of Melrose Abbe'v. Sir JaiiifS Hall of Dunglas. Bait . has, with great n^enuity and plau.sibility, traced the Gothic order through its various forms and seemingly eccentric ornaments, to an archilectiirnl imi- tation of wicker woik ; of which, as we learn from some of the legends.the earliest. Christian hurehes were coiis'ructed. In such an edi- fice, the original of the clustered pillars is iraceil to a set of round [losts, begirt with slender rods of willow, whose loose summits ."ere brought to meet from all quarters, and bound together artihcially, so as to produce the frame work of the roof: and the tracery of our Gothic windows is displayed in the meeting and interlacing of rods and hoops, irt'oiding an inexhaustible variety of beautilul ibrnis of open work. This ingenious sysiem is alluded to in the romance. Sir James Hall's Essay on Gothic Architecture is publisTied in Tiie 'Edinburgh Philosophical Transactions. Note 2 C. The wondrous Michael Scott. — P. 20. Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie flourished during the 13lh century, and was one of the ambas.vadors sent to bring the Maid of Norsvny to Scotland upon the death of Alexander III. By a poetical anachronism, he is here (.!;i. ed in a later era. He was a man of much ie.uu- iiig, 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 addictetl to the abstruse studies of judicial astroloL-^y. alcliymy, physiognomy, and chn-omancy Hence he passed among his con- emporaries for a skillul magician Dempster nforms us, that he remembers to have heard Some years ago, a p*^ Id caetle of Hermitage uantity of chaff, some t ihers, the curb of an ancient t nee given to the Earl of Dalh lat it possibly may be a relic < worthy clergyman of the paris very iu his Ktatislical Account digeing for stone ke inio a vault, c , aid pie.es of iro bmlle, which the Ihoiisie, i.ll.ler the I ha.-* menlionetJ >r CasUetowu. -Sinn The isoo- ^ -A- in his youth, that the mas;ic books of Michael Sr.otl were still iii exislence, but could nor be opened without duiiKef, on account of the malignant fiends who were thereby invoked. Dempsteri Hislorm Erdesinstirn., 1627, lib. xii p. 495. Lesly characterises Michael Scott h^ "singtilnrie philosophies, aslronomia, uc tneili- CinCE, laudc preslaus ; dictbatur penilusimos ma- guB reccssus indiKiassf." Dunle also mentions him as a renowned wizard — •• Quell altro chu lie' fianchi e cost poco, Miihelc Si-nlio fn, die Verameiile Delle magkhe froJe seppe il giuoro." Inferno, Canto xxmo. A personafre, thus spoken of by bioia:raphers and historians, loses little of his niysiical Came in vulvar tradiii(jn. AccoiiliiiRly. the memory of Sir Michael Scott survives in many a lepfend ; i.nd in tlie south of Scotland, any work of great lauour and antiquity, is ascribed, either to the agency of Aidd Michael, of Sir William Wal- lace, or of the devil. Tradition varies con- cerning the place of his burial ; some contend for Home Collrame, in Cumberland ; others ior Melrose Abbey. But all agree, that his books of magic were interred in his grave, or pre- served in the convent where he died. Satch- ells, wishing lo give some authimty for his account of the origin of the name of Scott, pretends, that, in 1G29. he chanced to be at Burgh under Bowness, in Cumberland, where a person, named Lancelot Scott, showed him an extract from Michael Scott's works, con- taining that story : — •• He said the bnnk which he nave me Was of Sir Michael Scotl'shislorie: Which history was never yet read through, Young scholars have pick'd out pomcthing From the contents, that dare not read wiihln. He carried ine aloti;^ the castle then, And shew*d his written hook hanging on an iron pin. His writing pen did seem lo me tn be Of hardened metal, like nteel, oraccumie; The volume of it did seem so large to me. As the Bonk of Mariyrs and Turks historie. Then in ihe church he let me see A stone where M r. Michael Scott did lie ; 1 askiO at him how that could appear, Mr. Michael h.id been dead above five hundred year 7 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 terrify each one." Hittory qf the Right Uunourable A'amc qf .Scoff. Note 2D. Salamanca's cave. — P. 20. :^ Spain, from the relics, doubtless, of Arabian learning and superstition, was accounted a favourite residence of magicians. Pope Syl- vester, who actually imported from Spain the use of the Arabian numerals, was supposed to have learned there the magic, for which he was stigmatized by the ignorance of his age.— William of Malmsbury. lib. ii. cap. 10. 'Ihere were public schools, where magic, or rather the sciences suppo.sed to involve its mysteries were tegularly 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' Anion on Lcauied Inert dull 1 1/. p 45 'I'hese Spanish schools of magic are celebrated also by the Italian poets of ro- mance : — " Questo citta di Tolleto solen Tenere studio Ul negromaniia Quivi di magica arte si leggea Pubbllcameiile, e di peromanziaj K inolti geomanl'i sempre avea, Bsperimenii assai d' idromaiisia V, d' alire fiilse opinion' di sciocchi Come e failure, o spessn batter gli occhl." ti Morganu Magglore, Canto xxv. Si. V9. The celebrated magician Maugis, cousin to Rinaldo of M(mialban. called, by Ario»ito, Ma- lagigi. studied the black art at Toledo, as we learn from I/Hisloire de Maugis D' Aggremont. He even held a professor's chair in the necro- mantic university ; for I interpret the pass.tge, "qu'on tous ks srpl ars d^enchantnnent, des charmes el conjurations, il n'y avoit meitlieur maistre que lui; el en lei rennm qu'on le laissoit en chaise, el Vappelloil on maistre Maugis." This Salamancan Domdaniel is said to have been founded by Hercules. If the classic reader inquires where Hercules himself learn- ed magic, he may consult " Le.s faicts el pro- crsses dii noble et vaill'inl Hercules,'^ where he will learn, that the fable of his aiding Atlas to support the heavens, arose from the said Atlas having taught Hercules, the noble kni/jhl-erratit, the seven liberal sciences, and in particular, that of judicial astrology. Such, according to the idea of the middle ages, were the studies, "maximus qua doctiil Atlas."— In a romantic iiistory of Koderic, the last Gothic King of Spain, he is said to have entered one of tho.se 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 wiih an invasion of the Moors, re- solved to enter the cavern, where he expected to find some prophetic intimation of the event of the war. Accordingly, his train being fur- nished with torches, so artiticially composed that the tempest could not extinguish them, the King, witli great difficulty, penetrated into a square liall, m.scribed all over with Arabian characters. In the midst stood a colossal sta- tue of brass, representing a Saracen wielding a Moorish mace, with which it discharged fu- rious blows on all sides, and seemed thus to excite the tempest wtiich raged around. Being conjured by Koderic, it ceased from striking, until he read, inscribed on the right hand, "Wretched Monarch, for thy ei'il hast thou come hither;" on the left Uii\\[l,"Thuu shall he dis- possessed by a strange pfople ;" on one shoulder, "/ mvoke the sons of Hugar ;" on the other, "i do mine office" When the King had deciphered these ominous inscriptions. the stattie ininnied to its exercise, the tempest commenced anew, and Roderic retired, to mourn over the pre- dicted evils which approached his throne He caused the gates of the cavern to be locked and barricaded; but, in the course of the night, the tower fell with a tremendous noise, and under its ruins concealed for ever the entrance to the mystic cavern. The conquest of Spam by the Saracens, and the death of the uiiloriunate Don Koderic. fultilled the prophecy of llie brazen statue. Brstona verdadera del R/y Bon Riidrigo por el Subw Alcayde Almlca- cim. traduzeda de La knyuu Arabiga por Miquel de Luna, 1654, cap. vi. A V- L4Y OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 53 \ Note 2 E. The bells would ring tn l\olre Dame. P. 20. 1 •' Tan'amne rem tarn nnjligentrr ?" says Tvr whitt. of his prediicessor Speislit ; wlio, in hi; commen'ary on Cliaucer. had omitted, as trivial and fabuhms. the story of Wade and his Ixiat Giiinselot. to the &real prejudice of posterity, I he nieniory of the hero and the boat beina: now entirely lost. That future antiqiia- rie.s may lay no such omission to my charge. I have n(»led one or two of the most curren' traditions concerning Michael Scott. He was chosen, it is s.iid, to {jo upon an embassy, to obtain from tlie Kin? of f ranee satisfaction for certain piracies comimited by his subjects upon those of Scotland Iii.ste:id of preparing a new equipage and splendid retuiue. the ambassador retreated to his study, o[)ened his book, and evoked a tiend in the shape of a liuse black horse, moiinied upon h;s back, anil forced liini to fly through the airioward s France. As they crossed the" sea. the devil insidiously asked his rider, What it was 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 precipitate him from his back. But Michael siernlv replied, "What is that to thee?— Mount, Diabolus. and fly!'' When he arrived at Paris, he tied his Jiorse to the gate of the palace, entered, and boldly delivered his message. An ambassador, with so liitle of the pomp and ciroums'ance of iliplomacy, was not received with much respect, and the King was about to return a contemptuous retusal to his demand, wlien .Michael besought him to suspend his resolution till he liad seen his horse Stamp three times. The first stamp shook every steeple in Paris, and caused all the bells to ring; the second ilirew down three of the towers of the pnlace ; and the infernal steed had lifted his hoof to give the third slaiii[), when llie King rather chose to di.>^iiiiss Mi chael, with the most ample concessions, th.ui tostand to the probable ciinseijut^iK'es. Another time, it is said. that, wlien residi ng at the Tower of Oakwood. upon the Etirick, about three miles above Selkirk, he heard of the f.iine of a sorceress, called the Witch of Falseliope. wlio lived (m the opposite side of the rver. Ahcliael went one morning to put her skill to the test. but was disappointed, by her denying positively any knowledge of the necromantic art. In !iis discoui-se wiiii her, he laid his wand madvert- ently on the table, which the h.tg observing, suddenly snatched it up, and struck him wiih it. Feeling the torce of the charm, he rushed out of the hou.se : but, as it had conferred on him the external appearance of a hare, his servant, who waited without, halloo'd uimui the discomfited wizard his own greyhounds, and pursued him so close, that, in order to ob- tain a moment's breathing to rever.se the charm Michael, after a very fatiguing course, was fain to take refuge in his own juwkoU'. (An- glice, common sewer). In order to revenge himself of the witch of Falsehope. Micliael. one moniing in the ensuing harvest, went to the lull above the house with his dogs, and sent down liis servant to ask a bit of bread from the good wife for his greyhounds, with instruciio:is what to do if he met with a d«- nial Accordingly, when the witch had refused the boon with contumely, the servant, as his master had directed, laid above the door a paper which lie had given him. containing, amongst many cabalistical wortbi, the well- known rhyme, — " Maister Michael Soolt's man Sought meat, and gat Dane." Immediately the good old woman, instead of pursuing her dome.stic 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 hun a li tie cautious, he contented himse.f with looking in at the window, and saw the reapers at their involuntary exercise, dr.igging his wif,-, now completely exhausted, someiiiiies round, and sometimes through, the fire, which was, as usual, in the inidst of the house. Instead of eniermg, he saddled a horse, and rode up the hill, to humble himself i)efore -Michael, and beg a cessation of the spell ; which the good iiatured warlock immediately granted, direcung him to enter the house iiackwaids. and with his left hand take the spell from above the door; whicli accordingly ended the supernatural dance. — This tale wiis told less particularly in former editions, and I have been censured for inaccuracy in doing so.— A similar charm occurs in Huon de Dour- c/eaMx,and in the ingenious Oriental tale, called the CaLipk Valhek. Notwithstanding his victory over the witch of Falsehope. Michael Scott, like his predeces- sor. Merlin, fell at last a victim lo female art. His wife, or concubine, elicited from him the secret, thai his art could ward off any danger except the poisonous qu.dities of broth, made of the flesii of a breme sow. Such a mess she accordingly administered to the wizard, wiio died in consequence of eating it; surviving, liowever, long enough to put to death his treacherous couiidauc. Note 2 F. The notes that cleft Eildon hills in three.— P. 20. 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 canld, or dam- head across the Tweed at Kelso ; it was ac- complished in one night, and still does honour to the infernal arcliitei:t Michael next oideied, that Eildon hill, which was then a uniform one, should be divided into three. Anoiher ight was sufficient to part its summit into the three picturesque peaks which it now bears. At length the enchanier conquered this mdefatigabie demon, by einployin- him in the hopeless and endless task ot nuikiug ropes out of sea-saud. V z / 7 ^ 64 APPENDIX TO THE M V wi Note 2 G. Thai lump fhnll Imrn luiqiienchnhly. Until Ike f:h:iHiil (loom shall be — P. 21. H;iptist!i Porta, iitiil oliier uiiitiors wlio Meat. of iiutuiiil magrio, talk nuu'li of denial lamps, picteiided to have fjeeti found huitiiiis in an- cient sepulcliies. l-'ortunius Licetus nivesti- ffates tlie sniiject in a treatise, Dc Lucernis Aniiqwnum Rucoittiitis, piiblisiied at Venice, U>21. One ol iliese perpetual lanips_ is said to li;ive lieen di.scoveied in the tonil) of Tulliola, the danjrhter of Cicero. The wick was sup- posed to be composed of asbestos. Kirclier eiiinnerates three ditrerent reci|)es for con- slnicliiiic such lain|s; and wisely concludes, that the thiiiK; is neverlhfless impossible.— MhiuIhs Suhierratnictes, p. 72. Dehio imputes the fabrication of such lisbts to magical skill. — DisquisiLiows MutjiccB. ji. 58 In a vtr> rare romance, which 'lieaieih of the life of Vir- gilius, and of his delh. and many marvayles that lie dyd in his lyfe-liinf. by uyciiciafte and ny^jramaiicv e, lhroiifbing up his memory, than with all the rational or phi- losophical argumentations that 1 could pro- duce." Note 2 0. The running stream dissolved the spell. — P. 24. It is a firm article of popular faith, that no encliaii'nient can subsist in a living stream. Nay, if you can imerpose a hrook lieiwixt you and witches, spectres, or even fiends, you are in perfect safely. Burns's iniinitable Tom o' Shanler turns entirely upon such a circum- stance. The belief seems to be of antiquity. Brompton informs us. that certain Irish wizards could, by spells, convert earthen clods, nr stones, into fat piss, which they sold in the market, but which always reassiimcil ilieir proper form when driven by the deceived purchaser across a running stream But Brompton is severe on the Irish lor a very good reason. "Gens ista spuicissiiii:i non sol- vuiit decimas "—Chronicon Johanuus lii umplun apud decern Scriptores, p. 1076. Note 2 P. He never counted him a man, Wuultl strike betuv> the knee. — P. 25. Imitated from Drayton's account of Robin Hood and his followers : — " A hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, Still ready ai hii> call, that bowmen were right good : All tUd II Lim oln treen, wilh caps of red and blue, His fellow's winded horn not one of them hut knew. When ^Ncuiiig to their lips their bugles .shrill. The wart.liiig echoes waked from every dale and hill ; Their bauldrn .. sei wiih »tud« athwart their shoulders cast. To which under their ai ms tlieir sheafs were but liled fast. A short sword al their belt, a buckler scarce a span, Who struck below the knee not counted then a man. .\il made of Spanish yew, their hows were wondrous strong Thiy not an arrow drew but was a cloth-yard long. Of archery they had the very perfect craft, Wilh broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roviuR shaft." Poly-Alhiun. Song 26. To woiftid an antagonist in the thigh, or leg, was reckoned contrary to the law of arms In a tilt betwixt Gawain Michael, an Englisli squire, and Joachim Cathore, a Frenchman, " they met at the speare poyntes rudely; the ?Veiich squyer justed right pleasantly ; tlie Knglishman ran too lowe. for he sirak thf! Frenchman depe into the thigh. Where willj the Erie of Buckingham w:ls right sore dis- pleased, and so were all the other lords, and sayde how it was shamefully done."'— Frois.sart, vol. i. chap 366. Upon a similar occjision, "the two knyslits came a fote eche against other rudely, with their speares low couched, to stryke eche other within the foure quarters. Johan of Castell-iMorant strake the Emrlish squyer on the brest in such wyse. that Syr Wy'ilvam Fermetone stoinbled and bowed, fiir his fote a lytlel fayled him He helde his speare lowe with both his handes. and coude nat amende it, and strake Syr Johan of the Castell-Morant in the thighe.sothat the speare went clene throughe, that the heed was sene a handfuU on the other syde. And Syr Johan with the stroke reled, but he fell nat. Thau the Englyshe knyghtes and squyers were ryghie sore displeased, and sayde how it was a foule stroke. Syr Wyllam Fermeton excused hiin- selfe, and sayde how he was sorie of that ad- venture, and howe that yf he had knoweii that itshulde have bene so, he wolde never have begon it ; sayenge how he could nat amende It, by cause of glaunsmg of his fote by con- stravi theCastell- vol. i. chap. 373. ?t yiit of the great stroke that Syr Joiian of Castell-Morant had given him."— Froissurl, Note 2 Q. She drew the splinter from the wound. And with a charm she stancVd the blood. — P. 25. See several charms for this purpose in Kegi- ntild ScoCi's Discovery of Witchcraft, p. 273. "Tom Polls was hut a serving man. But yet he was a doctor good ; He bound his handkerchief on the wound. And with some kinds of words he stanched the blood." Piecet uj Ancient Popular Poetr}/, Lond. 1791, p. ISL Note 2 R. But she has ta^en the broken lance, And wash'd il from the clotted gore. And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. — P. 26. Sir Kenelin Digby. in a discourse upon the cure by sympathy, pronounced at Monlpelier before an'as.sernblv of nobles and learned men, translated into English by R. White, gentle- man, and publislied in 1 6.%. gives us the fol- lowing curious surgical case ; — " .Mr. James Howel (well known in France for his public works, and particularly for his Dendrologie, translated into French by .\Ioiis. B udouin) coming by chance, as two of V APPENDIX TO THE N ^ best friends were figlitinjr in duel, lie did his endt^avimrtopurt tlieni ; and. pntrin? liimselte beiweeii them, seized, with tiis lelr hund, upon the hill of the sword of one of the r(iiiil);it;iiifs, wiiile with his r\s;\\t hniid, h(^ bud hold ot the blade of the oilier. Ihey, biMii- transported with fury one usuiiist the oUier. si nis-led to rid themselves of the hitideranc.e tlieir Iriend made, that they should not kill one Hnoiher; and one of tliem roughly drawing the blade of Ins sword, cuts to the very hone the nerves nnd muscles of Mr llowel's limid ; and then the oiher disensaged his hills, and f;ave a cidsse blow on his adveisarie's head, which Rlanced towards his friend, who heaving nii 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 (;onsiellaiion reigned then aJ?ainst liiin, that he should h)se so iniichbloud by parting iwnsiichtlearfriends, who, had they been tliemst-lves, would have hazarded both their lives to have preserved his ; but this involuntary effusion of bloud by them, prevented that which they sliolde have drawn one from the other. For they, seeing Mr. Howei's fare besmeared with bloud, by heaving up his wounded hand, they both ran to enihrace hini ; and, having searched his liurts, they bound up his hand with one of his garters, to close the veins which were cui , and bled abundantly, 'i'liey brought him home, and sent for a surgeon, liut this l)eing heard at court, the King sent one of his own sur- geons; for his majesty much alfecied the said Mr. Howel. " It was my chance to be lodged hard by him : and four or hve days afier, as I was making myself ready, he came to my house, una prayed me to view liis wounds ; ' for I understand.' said he, 'that you have extraor- dinary remedies on such occasions, and my surgeons apprehend some fear that it may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut oH'.' In elfect, his coiintenaiice discovered that he was m much pam. which he said was itisupt)ortable, in regard of the extreme in- flammation. T told him I would willingly serve him ; hut if haply he knew the manner how I would cure hini without touc.limg or seeing him. It may be he would not expose himself to niy manner of curing, because he would think it, peradventure, either metlectual or super- stitious. He replied, 'the wonderful things which many have n-lated unto me of your way of medicament, make.s me not lung doubt at all of itsetficacy ; and all that I have to sav unto you is compieiiended in the Siianish jiroverb, Hagaae el ninatjro y hagaw Mnhoma — Let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it.' " 1 asked him then for any tliingthai had the blood upon it; so he presenlly sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound and as I called for a bason of water, as if I would wash my hands. 1 took a handful of p<).vder of vitriol, winch I liad in my study, and presently dissolved it. As soon as llie bloody garter was brought me. I put it wiihin the b.uson, observing, in the interim, what Mr. Howel did. who stood talking with a gentle- man in a corner of my ('haniber. not reg.iiiling at all what I was doing; but he started suil- denly, as if he had found some strange altera- tion in himself. 1 asked him what he ailed ' I know not what ailcs me : but I linde that 1 feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kinde of freshnesse, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath taken away the inflammation that tormented me before"'— I replied. 'Since then that you t'eel already so good elfect 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 leported to the Duke of Bucking- ham, and a little after to the King, who were both very curious to know the circumstance of the biismesse, 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. Howei's servant cmne running, that Ins master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not more; for the heat was such as if his h;ind were 'twixt coles of fire. I answered, although that had happened at present, yet he should find ease in a short time ; for I knew the reason of this new accident, and would provide accordingly ; for his master should be free from that mliammation, it may be before he could possibly return to him; l)Ut in case he found no ease. 1 wished him to come pre- sently back again; if not, he might forbear coming. Thereupon he went; and at the in- stant I did put again the garter into the water, thereupon he found his master without any pam at all. To be brief, there was no sense of paiii afterward ; but within five or six dayes the wounds were cicatrized, and entirely healed "—Page 6. The King (James VI.) obtained from Sir Keiielin the diS(!overy of his sectret, winch he [ireteiided had been taught him by a Carmelite fiiar. who had learned it m Armenia, or Persia. Let not the :ige of animal magnetism and me- tallic tractors smile at the sympathetic powder of Sir Kenelm Digby. Reginald Scott men- tions the same mode of cure in these terms : — '•And that wliich is more strange they can remedie anie stranger with that verie sword wherewith they are wounded. Yea, and that which is beyond all admiration, if they stroke the sword upward witli their tingers, the pariie shall feele no pain ; where- as, if they draw their fingers downwards, thereupon the partie wounded shall feele in- tolerable pam." I presume that the success ascribed t() the sympathetic mode of treatment might arise from the pains bestowed in wash- ing the wound, and exchidnig the air, thus bringing on a cure by the first intention. It is introduced by Dryden in the Enchanttd Islnnd, a (very unnecessary) alteration of the Tem- pest : — "Arier. Anoint the swonl which pit-rcrtl hini with Ibis Till 1 have tunc lo viail him asatii.—Acl v. ic. 2. Again, in scene 4th, Miranda enters with Hippolito's sword wrapt up : — **Hip. O my wound pains me ! Mir I am lotne lo nmi- you. [^he unwraps the Saari. tlip. Alas, I fcrl Ihe colQ air lome lo me: My v.omid >.hm\-i worse Ihan ever. Does il ^llll Brieve you 2 [Sht wipes and anoinu Hip. Now.m MiT. Do you Up. Ye». yn is leaving nie. Swvrd] 1 some : laid just upon it. y^ z. LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 59 \ Note 2 S. On Penchryst ijlows a bale of fire. — P. 26. Bnlr, beacon fasot. The Border beacoii-S, from their number and posiiion, t'ormed u sort of tf;leu;raphiccomn»unicaliou with Kdiidiuri^li. — The act of Parliament 11.5.5, c. 48, directs, that one bale or fasot shall be waruiiiir of the approach of the En^lisli iii any maimer; two Itales ihat they are coming imlted ; four Ijules, hiaznis beside each oilier, that the enemy are in ffreat force "'i'lie same laikeningrs io be watched and maid at Enserhope (Eg^gerstand) Casteil, fra they se the tire of Hume, that they firii ng;lit swa And in like maimer on Sowtra Eike.sall se the fire of Eirirerliope Casteil, and niak taikenin? in like manner : And then may all Loiithaine he warned, and in special the Casteil of Edinhurijii ; and their four fires to be made in like manner, that they in Fife, and fia St rive 1 1 HIT east, and the east part of Lou- tli:iine. and to Dunbar, all may se them, and Come to the defence of the realme." These beacons (at least in latter times) were a " Ions and strong tree .set u(), with a hins; iron pole ai-rossthe head olit.and an iron blander fixed t»:i a stalk in the middle of it, for holding a tar- barrel." — Stevenson's Hislwy, vol. ii. p. 701. Note 2 T. Our km, and cliin, and friends to raise. — P. 26. The speed with which tlie Borderers col lected great bodies of horse, may be judged of from the ibllowing extract, when the subject of the rising was niucii less important than that supposed in the romance. It is taken from Carey's Memoirs : — •• Upon the death of the old ford Scroop, the Queen gave the west wardeiiry to his son, that had married my sister. He "having received that office, came to me with sreat earne.stness. and desired me to be his deputy, offering me that I should live with him in his house; that he would allow me half a dozen men, and as many horses, to be kept at his cliargt; ; and his fee beins 1000 merks 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 C.irlisle ; where I w;is no sooner come, but I entered into my office. We had a stirring time of it; and few days past over my head but I was on horseback, either to prevent mis- ciiief. or take malefactors, and to bring the Border in belter quiet than it had been in times past. One memorable thing of God's mercy shewed unto nie, was sucli as I have good cause still to remember it. " I h.id private intelligence given me, that there were two Scottishmen that had killed a churchman in Scotland, and were by one of the Grsemes relieved. This Gi"2eme dwelt within five miles of Carlisle. He had a pretty house, and close by it a strong tower, for his own defence in time of need.— About two o'clock in the morning. I look horse in Carlisle, and not above twenty-five in my company, thinking to suipri.se the house on a sudden. Before I could surround the house, the two Scots were gotten in the strong tower, and 1 could see a boy riding from the house as fast as his horse could carry him; I little suspect- ing what it meant. "Cut Thomas Carleton came to me presently, and told me, that if I did not presently prevent it, both myself and all my company wouhl be either slam or taken prisoners. It was strange to me to hear this language He then said to me, ' Do vou see that boy that rideth away so fast ? He' will he 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 num- ber 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 w;is 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 withall we sent to Car- lisle to raise the townsmen ; for without foot we could do no good against the tower, '{'here we staid some hours, expecting more company; and within short time after the country came in on all sides, .so .that we were quickly be- tween three and four hundred horse; and. after some longer stay, the foot of Carlisle came to us. to the number of three or four hundred men; whom we presently set to work to get to the top of the tower, and to uncover the roof; and then some twenty of them to fall down together, and by that rneans to wii» the tower. — 'J'lie Scots, seeing their present danger, offered to parley, and yielded them- selves to my mercy. I'hey had no sooner opened the iron gate, and yielded themselves niy prisoners, iiut we might see 400 horse within a quarter of a mile coming to their rescue, and to surprise me and my small com- pany ; but of a sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. 'Then had I more to do than ever; lor all our Borderers came crying, with full iiiout lis, ' 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 lake 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 was so many deadly feuds among theui;) and there- fore 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 they plea.sed them- selves ; but being present, if I should give them leave, the blood that should be spilt that day would lie very hard upon my conscience. And therefore I desired them, for my sake, to for- bear; 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, tliey should few of them return to their own home. They made no stay ; but lliev were returned homewards before the messenger had made an end of his message. Thus, by God's mercy, ^ z V .' 60 >k APPENDIX TO THE ^ I escaped a great danj!;er; and, by my means. there were a great many men's lives saved that day." Note 2 U. On many a cairn's grey pyramid. Where tints of migfily cUie/s lie Ind — P 26. The cairns, or piles of loose stones, which crown the summit of most of our Scottish hills, and are found in other remarkable situations, seem usually, though not universally, to have been sepulchral monuments. Six flat stones are conunonly found in the centre, forming a cavity of greater or smaller dimensions, in whicli an urn is often placed. The author is possessed of one, discovered beneath an im- mense cairn at Roughlee, in Liddesdale. It is of the most barbarous con.xlruction : the nnil- dle of the substance alone having been sub- jected to the lire, t)ver which, when hardened, the artist had laid an inner and outer coat of unbaked clay, etched with some very rude ornaments; tiis skill apparently being inade- quate to baking the vase, when completely hmshed. The contents were bones and ashes, and a quantity of beads made of coal. This seems to have been a barbarous imitation of the Komau fashion of sepulture. Note 2 V. For pathless marsh and mountain cell. The peasant left his lowly shed. — P. 27. The morasses were the usual refuge of the Border herdsineu. on the approach of an En^ li.««h -Avmy. — {Mnistre/ry of the Scoltish Boider vol. i. p. 393 ) Caves, hewed in the most dan gerous and inaccessible places, also alForded an occasional retreat. Such caverns ma\ seen in the precipitous banks of the Teviot at Sunlaws, upon the Ale at Ancrani, ujion t Jed at Hnndalee, and in many other places upon the Border. I'he banks of ihe Eske, at Gorton and Hawthornden. are hoUowed into similar rece.sses. But even these dreary dens were not always secure places of concealment "In the way as we came, not far from this place, (Long Niddry,) George Ferres, a gentle man of my Lord Protector's happened upon a cave in the grounds, Mk niiiuth whereof w;is so worne with the Iresli printe of sle(is, that he seemed lo be certayne tliear wearsome folke within ; and gcmedoune to trie, he was readily receyved with a hake- hut or two. He left tlieiii not yet, till he had known wheyther thei wolde be content to yield and come out ; which they fondly refus- ing, he went to my lord's grace, and upon ut- terance of the thynge,gat licence to deale with them as he coulde ; and so returned to them, with a skore or two of pioners. Three veiites had their cave, that we wear ware of, whereof lie 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 wel mayn- teyned without, that the fyer prevayled, and thei within fayn lo get them belyke into anoo- ther parler. I'hen devysed we (for I hapt to \)e with liiin) to stop the same up, whereby we should eyther smoother them, or fynd out their ventes, if thei hadde any moe ; as this was done at another issue, about xii score of, we moushte see the fume of their smoke to come out : tlie 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 smoo- ther within: and forasmuch as we found not that they dyd the tone, we thought it for cer- tain thei wear sure of the tootlier."— Paiien's Account of Somerset's Expedition into Scotland, pud DalyeU's Fragments. Note 2 W. Show'd southern ravage was begun. — P. 27. From the following fragment of a letter from the Earl of Northumberland to King Henry VIll., preserved among the Cotton MSS. Calig. B vn. 179, tlie reader may estimate the nature of the dreadful war which was occasionally waged upon the Borders, sharpened by mutual cruellies, and the personal haired of the war- dens, or leaders. Some Scottish Barons, says the Earl, had threalened to come within lliree miles of my pore liouse of Werkworth, where I lye, aud gif me light to put on my clothes al mydnight ; and alsoo the said Marke Carr said there opyiily, that, seyng they had a governor in the Alarches of Scotland, as well as they had in Jiigland. he shulde kepe your highness instruc- tions, gyft'yn unto your garyson, for making of any day-torrey ; for he and his friends wolde bunie eiiouijh on the nyuht, letiyiigyour coun- saill here defyne a notable acle at, tlieyre plea- sores. Upon' wliiche, in your highnes name, I Cumaundet dewe waiche to be kepte(myour Marchies, for comyng in ol any Scott s. — Neuer- theles, upon Thursday at night last, came thyrty light horsemen into a litil village of niyne, called Whitell, having not past sex houses, lying towards Kyikli-^daill, upon Slnl- boiell More, and there wold have fired the said bowses, but ther was no fyre to get there, and they forgate to brynge any withe Iheyme; and looK a wyf being great w.th cliylde, in the said towne, aud said to hyr, Wher we can not gyve the lard lyghl, yet we shall doo tins in spyte of him ; and gyve her iii morlall wounds upon the held, and andher in llie r.ghi side. With a dagger: whereupon the said wyf is reis provisions at Coldingham; for ihey did not onlv bnriie the said town of Coldingham. with all the come thereunto beloiigiiis. which is esteemed W(jrthe cii inarke sterling: hut alsoo burned twa lownes nye adjoining there- unto, citlled Branerdeigest and the Black Hill, ani tOne rsui persons, Ix horse, with ro heil of cataill, which, iiowe. as i am iiiformt-d, hathe ni»r only been a staye of tlie said Erie of .Murreis not coming to ihe Bordure a-* yet. but alsoo. that none inlande man will advt:ii- ture theyr self Ufipon the Marches. And as for the tax that siinlde have Iweii grauiityd for fiiiiling of the said ni hundred men, is uiterly denyed. Upon which llie King of Scotland departed from Edyiihurgh to Stirling, and as yet there doth remayii. And also I. by the advice of my brotherClyffirtli, have devysed, that within tins iii nyght's, Godile willing, Kel- sey. in like case, shall be hient, with all the Corn in the s:ud town; and then they shall have ni>o place to lye any garyson in iiygli unto the Borders. And as I shall aUeigne further knowledge. I shall not faill to satisfye your highnes, according to my mi>st hoiiiiden diitie. And for this burnyns of Kel.sey is devysed to bi: done Secretly, by 'ryndaiU and Ryddisdale. And thus the holy 'Irynite and * * * your inost royal estate, with long lyf, and as much incre.ise of hnnouras your most noble henrt can desire At Werkvoorth the xxiid day of Oc- tubtr." (1522.) Note 2 X. Watt TinUnn. — P. 27. . This person was. in my youneer days, the theme of many a fireside tale. He was a re- tainer of the Buccleuch family, and held for his Border service a small tower on the fron- tiers of Liddesdale Watt was, by profession. a sutor. but, by inclination and pniciice, an archer and warrior Upon one occasion, the captain of Bewcastle, military governor of that wild district of Cumberland, is said to have made an incursion into Scotland, in which he w;is defeated, and forced to fly. Watt 'I'lniinn pursued him closely through a dangerous mo- rass ; the captain, however, gained the finn ground; and seeing 'I'lnlinn dismounted, and floundering in the bog, used these words of insult :—•• Sutor Watt, ye cannot sew your boots ; the heels risp, and the seams rue." i — •'If I cannot sew," retorted Tinlinn, discharg- ing a shiift. which nailed the capiain's thigh to bis saddle, — *' if I cannot sew, 1 can yei/(." 2 Note 2 Y. BiLUiope Stag. — P. 27. There is an old rhynie, which thus cele- brates ihe places in Liddesdale remarkable for ^ame : " Billhope braes for buckn aud raea. And Cam haugh forBWine, Aud Tarra.-* for Ihe good bull-lront. If he l>f taVn in lime." The bucks and roes, as well as the old swine, Nt INSTREL. 61 >. are now extinct; but the good bull-troat still famous. Note 2 Z. Belted WiU Howard. — ?. Tl. fx)rd William Howard, third son of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, succeeded to .N'aworth Cas- tle, and a lar^e domain annexed to it, in right of his Wife Elizabe'h, sister of George Lord Dacre, who died without heirs male, in the lltli of Queen Elizabeth. By a poetical ana- chronism, he is intHKluced into the romance a few years earlier than he actually flourished. He vvas 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, con- lainin? a bedroom, or.'itory. and library, are still shown They impress us with an un- ple;ising idea of the life of a lord warden of the .Marches Three or four strong doors, separat- ing these nnjuis from the rest of the castle, indicate the apprehensions of treachery from his garrison; and the secret windiiiL' passages, through which he could pnvaiely descend into the guardroom, or even in'o the dungeons, im()!y the necessity of no small desree of secret superintendence on the part of the governor. As the ancient books and furniture have re- mained undisturbed, the venerable apjieannce of these apanments, and the armour scattered around the chamber, almost lead us to expect t'ae arrival of the warden in person. Naworth C;istle is situated near Brampton, in Cumber- laud. Lord William Howard is ancestor of the Earls of Carlisle. Note 3 A. Lord Dacre. — P. 27. The well-known name of Dacre is derived from the exploits of one of their ancestors at the sie?e of Acre, or Ptolemais. under Kichard CcEur de Lion. There were two powerful braiichesof that name. The tiist family. called Lord Dacres of the South, held Ihe castle of the same name, and are ancestors to the pre- sent Lord Dacre. The other family, descended from the same stock, were called I^)rd Dacres of the North, and were barons ot Gilsland ami Graysiock. A chieftain of the latter hraiich was warden of the West Marc;hes during the reign of Edward VI. He was a man of a hot and obstinate character, as appears from some parliculai-s of Lord Surrey's letter to Henry VII 1.. giving an account of his beliaviourat the siege and slorm of Jedburgh it is printed in the Minsliflsy of the Scottish Border, Appendix to the Introduction. Note 3 B. The German hnckbiU-men — P. 27. In the wars with Scotland. Henr>' VIII. and his successors employed numerous bands of mercenary iroops At the battle of Pinky, there were in the English army six hundred Z K APPENDIX TO THE M li-ickliuiters on loot., and two liimdred on horsel).ic.k. composed chiefly of forKiu:ners On the 27lh of Stjp'eniher. 1549, the Duke of So- merset, Lord I'lotechir, wnles to the Lord Dacie. wiirden of the West Miirches : — '• The Ahn.iins. in nunil)er two thousand, very v:»h;int soldieis, shall be sent to you shcntly from Newcastle, to^-ether with Sir Thomas H.il- rroft, and with the force of your wardenry. (which we wouUl were advanced to the ino^t slieiiKlh of horsemen tliat inii;ht be,) shall make the attempt to l.onghmalien, hein!r of no such sirenKlh hut that it may be sUaiied wiih ladders, wlieieof. Ijefoieliaiid, we would yon caused secreiiy some tinml)er to lie pro- vided ; or else undermined with tlie pyke axe. and so taken : either ttt be ket>t for tiie Kin\''s Majesty, or otherwise to be defaced, and taken from the prohts of the enemy. And in like manner the hou.se of Carlaverock to be used " Repeated mention occurs of the Almains. in the subsequent conespundence ; and the en- terprise seems finally to have been abandoned, from tiie difficully of providiiii; these strangers Willi the necessary " victuals and carriages in so |)oora country as Dumfries shire " — History ol Cumh€7-latid,vol i ]iitr(jd p. Ixi. From the battle-pieces of the ancient Flemish painters, we learn, that the Low Country and German soldiers marched to an assault with their li^hi knees bared. And we may also observe, in such pictures, the exlravas^ance to which iliey carried the fitshion of ornamentiii!? their dress with knots of ribbon. 'I'his custom of the Germans is alluded to in the Alirruur for Ma- gistrates, p. 121 : "Their plriled garments therewith well accent. All jagde and frounsl, wilh iliveiB colours di'ckt." Note 3 C. "Ready, aye ready, '"for the field. —P. 28. Sir John Scott of Thirlestane floiirisihed in the reitfii of James V,, and possessed the es- tates of Thirlestane, Gamescleuch, &.C . lyin^ Upon the river of Ettrick. and extending; to St. Muiy's Loch, at the head of Yarrow. It ap- pears, that when James had assembled his nobiliiy, and their feudal lollowers, at Fala. with the purpose of iiivadina; Fngland, and Was, as is well known. disaptKiinted by the obsiinate refusal of his peers, this baron ahjiie declared iuniself ready to follow tlie Kinj; wherever he should lead. In memory of his fidelity, James granted to his family a charier of arms, entitlin;^ them to bear a border of fleurs-de-luce, similar to the iressnre in the royal arms, with a bundle of spears for the crest; motto. Rfudy. aye ready. Tlie charter Itself is printed by .Nisliet ; but his work being scarce. I insert the following accurate trans- cript from the oni;;inal. in the possession of llie Kiuht Honourable Lord Napier, the represent- ative of John of Thirlesiaiie. " James Rex. We James, by the grace of God, King of Scot lis. considerand the ffaitli and guid servis of of of 1 light traist Iriend John Scott of Thir- ane, quha cummand to our lioste at Sou- I traedire. willi three score and ten laiincieres I on horseback of his friends and followers, and I beaiiil williiiir to gana: wilh ws into Knuland, when all our nobles and others refu>ed, lie was ready to stake at all our biddinar; ffor the qiiliilk cause, it is our will, and we doe strait- lie command and charg our lion herauld and ills deputies for the time beand. to give and to trraunt to the said John Scott, ane Border of ffleure de lises about his coaite of amies, sik as IS on our royal banner, and alsua ane bun- dell of launc«s above his helmet, with thir words, Readdy, ay Readdy. tliat he and all his afiercimiiiiers may bruik the sainine as a pledge and taikeii of our guid will and kyndnes for his true worthines; and thir our letters seen, ye nae waes failzie to doe. Given at Ffalla iMuiie, under our hand and privy casliet, the xxvii day of July, m c and xxxu zeires. By the King's graces speciall ordinance " Jo. Arskine." I On tlie back of the charier is writlen. " Ediii. 14 .lanuary, 1713. Regist red, conform to the act of parliament made anent proliative writs, per M'Kaile. pior. and produced by Alexander Borthvvick, servant to Sir William I Scott of Thirlestane. M. L. J." NoTK 3 D. An ni/rd Knujht, to danger steefd, VVil/i vumy a vmss-trooper came on ; And azure m a qokleii Jield, The stars and crescent graced his shield, Withotct the bend of Mtirdieston — P. 28. The family of Harden are descended from a younger son of the Laird of Buccleiich. who flourished before the estate of Murdiesi on was acquired by the marriage of one of those chief- tains with the heiress, in 1296. Hence they bear the cognizance of the Scotts upon the field; whereas those of the Biiccleucli are disposed upon a bend dexter, assumed in con- sequence of that marriage. — See Gladstaine of White/awe's MSS., and Scott of Stokoe's Pidnjree. Newcastle. 1783. V\alter Scott of Harden, who flourished dur- ing the reian of Queen .Mary, was a renowned I Border freebooter, concerning whom tradition has preserved a variety of anecdotes, some of j which have been pulilislied in the Minstrelsy '^of the Sroltish Border; others in Leyden"s I Srincs of Inlancv; and others, more lately, in 1 The Moiintam Bard, a collection of B'lider j ballads bj' Mr. James Hogg. The bugle-horn, 'said to have been used by this formidahie 'leader, is preserved by his de.-cendant, the present Mr Scott of Harden. Hiscasilewas siiuuted upon the very brink of a dark and precipitous dell, through wliicii a scanty rivu- let steals to meet the Borthwick. In the I recess of this glen he is .said to have kept his spoil, which served fen the daily nuuntt iiaiii-e of his retainers, until the iiroduction of a pair of clean spurs, in a covered dish, aniiouiu-ed to the hungry band that ihey must ride fur a supply of provisions, lie was married to Marv Scot t. daughter of Philiii Scott of Dry hope, anil called in sonu the Flower of Yarrow. He i posse.ssed a very ex ensive estate, vvhicli was ' divided among his live sons 'I'liere are uu- z 7 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, 63 A menius descendants of this old marniidin? Uiiron. 'llie lull.iwiiis lieaiitiful I•:^^s:lse of Levdtm's Seems of Infancy is founded on :i tnuliiion resi^ctin? an infant ca[)tive, wlioni Walter of Harden carried off in a predatuiy incursion, and who is said to have hecome tiie author of some of our most beautiful pastoral songs: •• Where Bortha ho^irsf, that loads the meails with sand. Rolls her rwl tide to Tevini'.s wesirrn mrand. Through slaty hills, whose sidrs are shaag'd wnh thorn. Where s|.riin;«, in scatter'd lufu, the dark-greeu corn, Tower,< woo.l.girt Harden, far ahove the vale, And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets sail. A h.inly raie, who never shrunk from war, The Sco'.t, to rival realms a mighty bar. Here tix'd his mountain home: — a wide domain, And rieh the soil, h.id purple heaih Iwen grain ; B'lt what the nissanl eround of wealth denied, From fields more blessM 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 flune. With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung What fair, half-veii'd, leans from her latt ced hall, Where reised them: "• I counsayle. let us be alle of one alliance, and of one accorde. and let us among ourselves reyse up the banner of St. George, and let us be frendes to God. and ene- myes to alle the woride ; for without we make ourselfe to be feared, we gete nothvnge.' "'By my faytli,' quod Sir WiUiam Helinon, ' ve saye right well, and so let ns tlo.' Tliey all agreed with one voyce. ami so regarded among them who shulde be their capitayne. Then they advysed in the case how they coiule nat have a better capitayne than Sir John Sol- tier. Kor they sulde than have good leyser to do yvel. and tiiey thought he was more metel- yer thereto than any other. Then they raised up tne penon of St George, and cried. 'A Sol- tier! aSollier! the valyaunt liastarde! frendes to God, and enemies to all the woride!'" — Froissart, vol. i. ch. 393. Note 3 H. That he may suffer march-treason pain.— P. 30. Several species of offences, peculiar to the Border, constituted what was called march- treason. Among others, was the crime of ritiing, 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. on the 25th day of March, 13.'^t. betwixt noble lords and mighty. Sirs Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Archibald Douglas, Lord of Gallowav.a truce is agreed upon until the 1st dav of July: and it is expressly ac- corded, " G"if onv steliis autliir -lw«iie two auuels of Salhan ; The six hlriudy axes in a bare frlili-, Shewelh Ihe cruclte of the ri-rt man. Which liJih devoured th>' Dfautiful Swan, Mortal en--in.v unto the Whyte Lion, Carter of Yorkf, the vyie buiiher'.-i xonue, The six bulles heddes in a felde hlacke, Betokeneih his atordy furionsne»s, Wherefore, the todly lysht to put abacke, He bryugeth in his dyvlish darcnesa ; The bandog in the middes doth expresse The ma.sliffrurre bred in Yp-iwich towns, Gnawynge with his telh a kinges cro\*ne. The glouhhe sisnifieth | layne hi» tiranny, Covered over wi'.h a Cardinall's halt, Wherein shall be fulfilled the prnphrcy, Aryse up. Jaike, and put on Ihy salatt, For the lyme is cuine of i ai'ge aid walatt. The temporall ihevaliy thus thrown doune, Wherefor, prest, lake hede, and beware thy There were two copies of this very scarce satire in the library of the late John, Duke of ]{()Xburghe. See an account of it also in Sir Egertun Brydges' curious miscellany, the Censura Literaria. Note 3 N. T^t Musorar^e meet fierce Deloraine In single fight. P. 31. It may easily be supposed, that trial by single combat! so peculiar to the feudal syslein. was common on the Borders In 1558, the well- known Kirkaldy of Grange fought a duel with Ralph F:vie, brother to the then Lord Evre. in consequence of a dispute about a prisoner said to have been ill treated by the Lord Evre. Pitsrottie gives the following account of the affair: —"The Lord of Ivers his lirolher pro- voked William Kiicaldy of Grange to fight with him, in singular combat, on horseback, with spears; who, keepiiia: the appointment, actcompanied with Monsieur d'Ossel. lieutenant to the French Kins, and the garrison of Hay- mouth, and Mr. Ivers, accompanied with the governor and garrison of Berwick, it was dis- charged, under the p.iin 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 jutlges. When they were in readiness, the trumpets sounded, the heniiiKIs cried, and the judges, let them go. They then 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."' — P. 202. The following indenture will show at how late a period llie trial by combat was resorted ^: A 7" LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. N to on the Border, as a proof of guil: or iiiiio- ceiire :— '•It is aarreeil between 'I'lionias Musarravc and Launcelot ("arleton, for I lie true trial nf;e. There is no hoo [Iriice] between them, as h i,g as spears, swords, axes, or daggers will enduie. but lay on eche upon uther; and whan they be well beaten, and that the one party li: th oinained the victory, they then glorifye so in theyre dedes of armies, and are so joylull,that such as be taken they shall be ransomed, oi that they go out of the felde ; so that shortly eche of them is so content with other, that, at their departynge, curtyslye they wdl say, God thank you."— Berners's Froissart. vol. it. p. l.'io. The Border meetings of truce, which, although places of merchandise and merriment, often witnessed the most bloody scenes, may serve ^ ^ LAY OF THE LxVST MINSTREL to illustrate the desoriptioii in the text. 'I'licy are vividly purtniyed in liie old biilhid of tlie Reidsqiiair. [See Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p 15.] Both piiities came armed to a ineeiinsrof the wardens, yet Ihev in!enn;xed fearlessly and peaceahly with each other in mutual sports and familiar mtercourse, until a casual fray arose : — •■ Then was there iioucht hut bow Rnd spear. And every man pulled om a brauil." Ill the 29th stanza of this canto, there is an attempt to express some of the mixed feeling with which the Borderers on eacli side were led to regard their neijjhbours. Note 3 V. on the darkening plain, Loud hollo, lo'ioop. or whistle ran, As hnwls, their shaijij/ers to rfgain. Give thfShnU watchword of their clan.— P 33 I'atten remarks, with bitter censure, the dis- orderly conduct of the English Borderers, who attended the Protector Somerset on his expe- dition asraiust Scotland. "As we wear then a setling, and the tents a setting; up. amous all things els commendable in our hole journey, one thing .seemed to me an intollerable disor- der and "abuse : that whereas alwiiys, both in all tonnes of war. and in all campes of armies, quietness and stilnes, without nois, is, princi- pally in the nislit, after the watch is set, ob- served, (I need not reason why,) our northern prikers, the Borderers, iiotwitiistaudyng, with great enorniitie, (as thought me.) and not unlike (to be playn) unto a masteries hounde howiyng in a hie way when he hath lost him lie waited upon, sum hoopynge, sum whistlyng. and most with crying. A Berwyke, a Berwyke ! A Fenwyke, a Fenwyke ! A Bulmer, a Bulnier ! or so ootherwise as theyr captains names wear, never lin'de these troublous and dangerous noyses all the iiyghte loiige. They said, they (lid it to find their captain and fellows; but if the souldiers of our oother counreys and sheres had used the same maner, in that case we siiould have oft times iiad the stale of our campe more like the outrage of a dissolute huiityna:, than the quiet of a well ordered arniye. It is a feat of war, in mine opinion, that' might right well be left. I could relierse causes (but yf 1 take it, they are belter un- spoken than uttred, unless the faut were sure to be amended) that might shew thei iiioV( alweis more peral to our arinie, but in thei one nyghi's so doynge, than they shew good service (as some sey) in a hoole vydge."—Apud Dalzell's Fraytiienls, p. 75. Note 3 W. To see how thou the chnse coitld^sl wind. Cheer the dark hlood-honnd on his way. And with the bwjk rouse the fray. — P. 36 The pursuit of Border marauders was fol- lowed by the injured party and his friends will blood-hounds and bugle-horn, and was called the hot-trod. He was entitled, if his dog could truce the scent, to follow the invaders into the opposite kingdom; a privilege which often occasioned bloodshed. In addition to what has been said of the blo(Kl-liouiid. I may add. that the breed was kept up by the Biicclench family on their Border estates till witlim the ISth century. A person wa.s alive in the me- mory of man. who rememl)ered a lihiod-hound being kept at Eldinhope. in Ettrick Forest, for whose maintenance the tenant had an allow- ance of meal. At that time the sheep were always watched at night. Upon one occasion, when the duty had fallen (m the narrator, then a lad. he became exhausted with fatigue, and fell asleep upon a bank, near sun-nsiiig. Sud- denly 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: hut the day > too far broken to admit the chance of their carrying any of them otf One of them, in spite I'iaped from his horse, and coming to the slieph.rd, seized him by the belt he wore round his waist ; and. setting his foot npon his body, pulled it till It broke, and carried it away with iiim. They rode off at the gallop; and, the shepherd giving the alarm, the blood-hound was turned loose, and the people in the neigh- bourhood alarmed. The marauders, however, escafied, notwithstanding a sharp pursuit. This circumstance serves to show how very long the license of the Borders continued in some degree to manifest itself. Note 3 X. She wrought not by forbidden spell — P. 37. Popular belief, though contrary to the doc- trines of the Church, made a favourable dis- tinction betwixt magicians and necromancers, or wizards ; the former were supposed to com- mand the evil spirits, and the latter to serve, or at least to be in league and compact with, these enemies of mankind. The arts of sub- jecting I he demons were manifold ; sometimes the fiends were actually swindled by the ma- gicians, as in the case i)f the bargain betwixt one of their number and the poet Virgil. The classical reader will doubtless be curious to peruse this anecdote : — '• Virgilius was at scole at Tolenton, where he sludyed dylygently, for he was of great understandynge. Upon a tyme, the scolers had lycense to go to play anil spiote them in the fyldes. after the usance of the old tyme. And "there was also Virgilius therhye, also walkvnge 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 alylell farther therein, and than he saw some lyght egaygne, and than he went fourth sirevghte. and within a lytell wvle after he han'le a voyce that called 'Virgilius! Virgi- lius !' and looked aboute, and he colde nat see no body. Than sayd he, (i e. the voice.) • Vir- gilius, see ye iioi the lytyli horde lying besyde you there marked witii that word?' Than answered Virgilius. 'I see that borde weli auough.' The voice said, 'Doo awaye that boide, and lette me out there atte.' Than answered Virgilius to the voice that was under the lytell borde, and sayd, ' Who art thou ihat ten > ::i. yA 7 >i 68 APPENDIX TO THE ^ callest me so?' Tlian answered the devyll. ' I am a devyll conjured out of the hodye of a cerleyne 111:111, and hunyssiied here tyll the day of judsiiient. witlioiit I hat I be delyvered by the haniles of men. Thus, Virijiliiis, I pray the. delyver me out of tliis [liiyu. and I shall shewe unto the many liokes of neRromaricye, and how tiiou shalt come by it lyghtly, and know the practyse therein, tiiat no man in ihe scyence of neffromancye shall passe the. And moreover, I shall shewe and enforme the so, that thou shall have alle thy desyre, whereby meihinke it is a preat gyfte for so lytyll a doyuff. For ye may also thus all your power frendys helpe. and make ryche your enemyes.' 'I'horough that great promyse was V'lrgilius tempted: he badde the fynd show the bokes to hym, that he might have and occupy them at Ins wyll ; and .so the fynde shewed him. And than Virgilius pulled open a horde, anti appears from the sfatu'es of tlie order Dm Saml Esprit an droit desir, instituted in iri52. A chapter of the kmslils is appointed to be held anrmally at the Castle of the f;nchanied EJgg, near the grotto of Vn-gil. — Montfaucon, vol. 11. p. 329. Note 3 Y. A merlin sat upon her wrist. Held by a lea^k of silken twist. — P. 37. A merlin, or sparrow-hawk, was actually carried by ladies of nmk, as a falcon was, lii time of peace, the ronstant 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 adnnt a royal garrison into his Caslle of 'I'^n- there was a lylell hole, and thereat wrans the j tallon. To this he returned no direct answer; devyllout likeayell,and cam and stode belbie but, as if apostrophizing a goss-hawk, which Virgihus lyke a bycge man ; whereof Virgilius was astonied and marveyled greatly thereof, that so great a man niyght come out al so lylyll a hole. Than sayd Virgihus, 'Shulde ye well passe into the hole that ye cam out of?' — 'Yea, I shall well,' said the devyl. — "1 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 hirn- selfe into the lytyll hole agene ; and as he was therein, Virgilius kyvered the hole ageyiie wilh the horde close, and so was the devyll begyled, and myght nat there come out asjeii, but abydelh sliytte .sty 11 therein. Than called Ihe devyll dredefully to Virgilius, and said, ' What have ye done, Virgilius?' — Virgilius answered, 'Aliyde there styll to your day appoyiited ;' and fro tliens forth abydeth he there. And so Vir- gilius became very coniiynge in the practyse of the black scyence." This story may remind the reader of the Arabian tale of the Fisherman and the impri- soned Genie; and it is more than probaiile, that many of the marvels narrated in the life of Vjigil, are of Oiieiiial extraction Among such 1 am di.sposid lo reckon the foi lowing whimsical accouiu of the loundalion of Naples, containing a curious Iheory coiicei'inng the origin of the earihciuakes with which it is afflicted. Virgil, who was a person of gal- lantry, had, it seems, carried off the daugliter of a certam Soldan, and was anxious to secure his prize. "Than he thought in liis niynde how he niyghte niarye hyr. and thought m his mynde lo fotinde in" the middes of the see a fayer towne. with great landes beloiigynge to "it; and so he did by his ciinnynge. and called it Napells. And the fandacyon of it was of egges, and in that town of Naiiells he made a tower with liii corners, and in the loppe he set an apell upon an yron yarde. and no man culde pull away that apeil without he brake it ; and thoroughe thalyren set he a bolte, and in that bolte set he a egge. And he lienge the apell by the stauke upon a cheyne, and so hangeth it still And when the egge styrretli, so shulde the towne of Napells quake; and whan the egge brake, tlien shulde the towne sinke. Whan he had made an ende, he lette call it 1 01 Na[)ells." This appears to have been an ; of current belief during the middle aj; n his wrist, and which he was feeding during the Queen's speech, he exclaimed, "The devil's m this greedy glede, she will never be full."— Hume's History of the House of Doiiylas. 1743, vol. ii. p. 131. Barclay com- plains of the common and indecent practice of bringing hawks and hounds into churches. Note 3 Z. And princely peacock's gilded train, And o'er the boar-head garnished brave. — P. 37. The peacock, it is well known, was consi- dered, during the times of chivalry, not merely as an exquisite delicacy, hut as a dish of pecu- liar solemnity. After being roasted, it was again decorated with its plumage, and a sponge, 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 ad- venturous knights lo take upon iheni vows to do some deed of chivalry, " before the peacock and the ladies." The boar's head was also a usual dish of feudal Sfilendour. In Scotland it was some- limes surrounded with Utile banners, display- ing the colours and achievements of Ihe haroii at whose board it was served. — Pinkertou's History, vol. i. p. 432. Note 4 A. Smote, with hts gauntlet, stout Hunthill. — P. 38. 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 coumry. Dickon Draw- the-sword was son to the ancient warrior, called in tradition the Cock of Hunthill, re- markable for leading into battle nine sous, gallant warriors, all sons of the apedcliuuipion. Mr. Ruiherford. late of New York, in a letier to the editor, soon after these songs were tir.st published, quoted, when upwards of eighty Id, a ballad apparently tiie same with ■iide ' the Kaid of ihe Reidsqnare, but which s, as renliy is lost, except the toilowm^ hues ipu- ^ r LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 69 \ Baiild Ruthcrrurd he Note 4 B. hit his 'jloue. — P. 33. To bite the thuinb, or the fflove, seems not to have been consRlered, updii the Border, as a gesture of contempt, though so used by Shakspeare. l)Ut as a pledge of mortal revenue. It IS yet remembered, that a youne sen'leman of Teviotf friends, which they have thought themselves very often obliged to acknowledge by letters yet extant, and in a style more like friends than souveraigns ; our attachment to them, without any other thanks, having brought upon us considerable losses, and among others, that ol our all in Cromwell's lime; and left in that condition without the least relief except what we found in our own viri ue. My father was the only man of the Scots nation who had courase 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 lo.sses in the cause of the royall familie, and their usual gratitude, had scarce left liim bread to maintain a nunterous familie of eleven children, who had soon after spruns; up on linn, in spite of all vvhicli, he had honoiiralily persisted in his principle. 1 say, these things coiisidered, and after being treated as [ was. and in that unlucky stale, when ob- jects 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 unaccount- able humour of men. and the singularitie of my own case, (an exile for the cause of the Stuart family,) when I ought to have known, that the greatest crime I, or my family, could have committed, was persevering, to my own destruction, in ser\'iiig the royal family' faith- fully, though obstinately, after so great a share of ilepression. and after they had been pleased to doom me and my familie to starve. — MS. Memoirs oj John, Master nj St. Cluir. Note 4 I. Of that Sea-Snahe, tremendous curVd, Whose monstrous circle girds the world — P. 39. The jormumiandr, 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 demons and the divinities of Odin, which is to precede the Rugnarockr, or Twilight of the Gods, this Snake is to act a conspicuous part. Note 4 K. Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell— P. 39. These were the Valcyriur, or Selectors of the Slain, despatched by Odin from Valhalla, lo choose those who were to die. and lo dis- tribule the contest. 1 hey were well known to the Englisii reader as Gray's Fatal Sisters, Note 4 L. Of Chiefs, who. rmi'l'd through the gloom By the pnle draih lights of the tomb, Rnnsacli'd the graves of tmrriors old. Their falchions wrench' d from corpses' hold.— P. 40. The northern warriors were nsually en- tombed with their arms, and Iheir other trea- sures. Thus, Angantyr. before commencing the duel in which lie was slam, stipulated, that if he fell, his sword Tyrring should be buried with him. His daughter. Hervor. after- wards took It from his tomb. The dialogue which passed betwixt her and Angantyr's spirit on this occasion has been often trans- lated. The whole history may be found in the Hervarar-Saga. Indeed', the ghosts of llie northern warriors were not wont tamely to suffer their tombs to be plundered ; and hence ^ /. APPENDIX. \ the mortal heroes \^.n\ mciiiwi.ai n.wc.^ ....>. ..,, adtli'iiinal tempta- tion to atteriipl sur.li adventures ; for they held iiothiiis more, worihv of I heir valour than to encounter sujieriiaiin-al heinss. — Bartholinus De rnusjs contcmplce a Daws moriis, lib. i. cap. 2. 9, 10, 13. Note 4 M. Castle Rnvenshcuch. P. 40 A larpe and stron? castle, now ruinous, si- Uiaied betwixt Kirkaldy and Dysart, on a sleep eras, washed hy the Frith of Forth. It was conferred on Sir William St Clair as a siiirht roiiipen.sation for the earldom of Orkney, bv a charter of Kins: James HI dated in 1471, and IS now the property of Sir James St. Clair Erskine, (now Earl of Rosslyn,) representative of the family It was long a principal residence of the Bamns of Roslin. Uunbar was fous:ht. When my f?ood-father vviis 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 fmiin? 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, aeainst 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 expenses she was at in buryin? her husband, occasioned the sumptu- ary acts which were ni.ide in the following parliament." \ Note 4 N. Seem'd nil on fire within, around, DcfV sncrisly and altar's pa/f ; Sho7ie rvrry pi/tnr foliaaf bound. And glimnifrhl ail tfie dead Mai's mail.— P. 40. The beautiful chapel of Roslin is still in to- lerable preservation. It was founded in 1416, by William St Clair, Prince of Orkney. Duke of Oldenbureh, Earl of Caithness and Stratli- eme. Lord St 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,) Hish Chancellor, Chamberlain, and Lieutenant of Scotland. This lolly person, whose titles, says Godscroft. i might weary a Spaniard, built the castle of Roslin, where he resided in princely splendour, and founded the ch;ipel, which is in the most rich and florid style of Gothic architecture. 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 oil fire [irevioiis to the death of any of his de- scendants. This superstition, noticed by Sle- zer, in his Thratrum Scolice, and alluded to in the text, is probat)ly of Norwegian derivation, and may have been imported by the Earls of Orkney into their Lotliian dominions. The tomh-fires of the noith are mentioned in most of the Sagas. The Barons of Roslin were buried in a vault beneath the chapel floor. The manner of their inieriiieiit 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 alleged, he went lo Ireland ; yet I think the cause of his retreat was rather oc- casioned by the Presbyterians, who vexed him sadly, because, of his religion being Roman Catholic. Hi.s son. Sir William died during the troubles, and was interred in the cliapel of Roslm the very same day that the battle of Note 4 0. For he was speechless, ghnsllu. wan, Like him of whom the story ran. Who spoke the sjnctre-hound in Man.— ?. 41. The ancient castle of Peel-town, in the Isle of Man, is surrounded bv 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 MutUhe Dooo, 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 accust(Tmed to the sifflit 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 permisNioii to do them hurt; and, fi)r that reason foiebore swearing, and all profane discourse, while in its company. But though they endured the shock of such a guest when altogether ill 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 ca|itain, to whose apartment, as 1 said be- fore, the way led through the church, they agreed among themselves, that whoever was to succeed the ensuing night his fellow in this errand, should accompany him that went first, and hy this means no man would be exposed singly to the danger; Air I forgot to mention, that the Mauthe Doog was always seen to come out from that passage at the close of the 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 reniered more daring than lu-dinanly, laughed at the simplicity of iiis companions, and. though it was not his turn to go wilh tl.e keys, would needs lake that office upon nim. to testify his courage. All the soldiers endeavoured to dissuade him ; Z 7 MARMION 73 but the more they said, the more resolute he seemed, and swore that he desired notUins more than that the Maulhe Doot course aiiRlit; As some proud column, thuu^li alone. Thy strensfth had propp'd the tottering throne : Now is the stately column broke. The beacoii-lia:ht is quencli'd in smoke, The trumpet's silver sound is still, The warder silent on the lull ! Oh think, how to his latest day, When Death, just hovering, claiui'd his prey, With Paiinure's unalter'd mood, Firm at Ins iians;eriius post he stood; Each call for needful rest repell'd. With dying hand the rudder held, Till, in his fall, with fateful sway. 'I'he steenige of the realm gave way i Then, while on Britain's thousand plains, One unpolluted church remains. Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around The bloody tocsin's maddeuiu? sound, But still, upon the hallow'd day. Convoke the swains to praise and pray ; While faith and civil peace are dear, Grace this cold marble with a tear.— He, who preserved them, Pitt, lies here ! Nor yet suppress the generous sigh, Because his rival slumbers nigh; Nor be thy requiesoil dumb. Lest It be said o'er Fox's tomb i For talents mourn, untimely lost. When best employ 'd. and wanted most Mourn genius high, and lore profound. And wit that loved to play, luit wound ; And all the reasoning powers divine, To penetrate, resolve, combine; And feelings keen, and fancy's glow, — They sleep with him who sleeps below : And, if thou mourn'st they could not save From error him who owns this grave, Be every harsher tlujught suppress 'd, And sacred be the last long rest. Here, where the end of earthly things Lays heroes, patriots. barJs. and kings; Where si iff the hand, and still the tongue. Of those who fought, and spoke, and sung; " If genius higti and judgment Koiind, And wit that loved to play, not wound, And all the reason inj; powers diviue, To penetrate, resolve, combine. Could »ave one mortal of the herd From error — Fox bad aever err'd." "While Srolt wa« correcting a second proof of the pas- •age where Pitt and Fox are mentioned together, at Stnn- morc Priory, in April 1S07. L,ord Abeicorn 8ugge»led that the compliment to the Whit; siaiesmau ought to be still further heightened, and several lines- were added accordingly. I have heard, indeed, that they came from the Marqui>'s own pen. Ballantyne, however, from some inadvertence, had put the sheet to press Uforo the revile, as it is called arrived in Edinburgh, and some few copies got abroad in which the additional couplets were oiuilted. A Loudon jouruul (the Morniug Chronicle) was Here, where the fretted aisles prolong The distant notes of holy song. As if some angel spoke asren, "All peace on earth, good-will to men;" If ever from an English heart, O, here let prejudice depart. And. partial feeling cast aside. Record, that Fox a Briton died ! When Europe crouch'd to France's yoke, And Austria bent, and Prussia broke, And the firm i{ussian's purpose brave. Was barter'd by a timorous slave. Even then dishonour's peace he spurn'd. The sullied olive-branch relum'd, Stood for his country's glory fast, And nail'd her colours to the mast! Heaven, to reward his firmness gave A portion in this honour'd grave. And ne'er held marble in its trust Of two such wondrous men the dust. With more than mortal power endow'd. How high they soar'd above the crowd 1 Theirs was no common party race. Jostling by dark intrigue for place ; Like fabled Gods, their mighty war Shook realms and nations in its jar; Beneath each banner proud to stand, Look'd up the noblest of the land. Till through the British world were known The uaiiies of Pitt and Fox alone. Spells of such force no wizard grave K'er framed in dark I'liessalian cave, Thoush his could ilram the ocean dry. And force the planets from the sky. These spells are spent, and, spent with these. The wine of life is on the lees. Genius, and taste, and talent gone. For ever tonib'd beneath the stone, VVhere— ttimmg thought to huniaii pride ! — The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. 2 Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier; O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. 'I'he solemn echo seems to cry, — " Here let their discord with them die. Speak not for those a separate doom, Wlioin Fate maile Brothers in the tomb ; But search the land of living men. Where wilt thou find their hke agea?" stupid and malignant enough to insinuate that the author had his presentation copie.i struck oft' with or without ihem, according as they were for Whig or Tory hands. I mention the circumstance now only because I see by a letter of Heber's ihal .Scott had thought it worth his while to contradict the absurd charge in the newspapers of the day."— Lockhart, Life of Scott, vol. iii. p. 61. 2 " Reader ! remember when ihou wert a lad. Then Pitt was all ; or, if not all, so much. His very rival almost dcem'd him such. We, we have seen the inielleciual rai* Of giants stand, like Titans, face to face; Athos and Ida, with a dashing sea Of eloquence between, which flow'd all free, As the deep billows of the Aegian roar Betwixt the Hellenic and Ihe Phrygian shore. But where are they—the rivals!— a few feet Of sullen earth divide each winding-sheet. How peaceful and how powerful is the grave Which hushes all : a calm unstormv wave Which oversweeps the world. The Iheme is oM Of • dust to dust ;• but half its tale untold; \_ yA ^ SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. \ Re-;t. ardent Spirits! till the cries Ofdyms; Niiture liid you rise: Not even your I'ntam's groans can pierce Tlie le;uleu silence of your hearse; Tiieii. O, how inipoieiit and vain This Krateftil triLjtaiy strain ! Though not unrjiark'd from northern clime, Ye heard the Border Minstrers rhyme: His Gothic harp has o'er you run?; The Bard you deign'd to praise, your deathless names has sung. Stay yet, illusion, stay a wliile, My vVilder'd fancy sull heenile ! From this lii^i theme how can I part, Ere half unloaded is my heart I For all the tears e'er sorrow drew, And all the raptures faiiry knew, And all the Iveeiier rush of hlood. That throbs through baid in hard-like mood. Were here a tnhute mean and low. Though all their inins:led streams could flow — Woe, wonder, and sensation hi£?h, In one sprinj^-tidi' of ecstasy ! — It will not be— it may not last — The vision of eiichaiitmerit's past: Like frostwork in the morning ray, The fancied falnic melts away; i Each Gothic arch, memorial stone. And Ion?, dim. lofty aisle, are pone; And, linKerinK last, deception dear, Ttie choir's high sounds die on my ear. Now slow return the lonely down. The silent pastures hleak and brown. 'I'he fai ni hesirt wiih copsewood wild. The gambols of each frolic (^liild. Mixing their shrill cries with the tone Of Tweed's dark waters rushing on. Prompt on unequal tasks to run. Thus Nature disciplines her son : Meeter, she says, for me to stray. And waste the solitary day. In plucUins: from yon fen the reed. And watch n floa'tms down the Tweed; Or idly list the shrilling lay, Willi which the milkmaid cheers her way. Marking its cadence rise and fail. As from the field, beneath her pail. She trips it down the uneven dale : Meeter for me, by yonder cairn, I'he ancient shepherd's tale to learn ; Though oft he si op in rustic fear, I/est his old legends tire the ear Of one, who, in his simple mind, ilay boast of book-learn 'd taste refined. But thou, my friend, can'st fitly tell, (For few have read romance so well,) How suU the legendary lay O'er poet's bosom holds its sway; How on the ancient minstrel strain Time lays his palsied hand in vain; And how our hearts at doughty deeds. By warriors wrought in steely "weeds, Siill throb for fear and pity's sake; As when the Champion of the Lake 1 •' If but a beam of sober reason play, Lo ; Fancy's fairy frostwork raelu :iway." Rogere Pleasure* 0/ Memory. 5 Bee Appendix. Note A. V bet; Appendix, Note B. Enters Morgana's fated house. Or in the Chapel Perilous, Despising spells and demons' force Holds converse with tli-e uiiburied corse;' Or when. Dame Ganore's grace to move, (Alas, that lawless was their love !) He sought proud Tarquin in his den. And freed full sixty knights ; or when, A sinful man, and unconfess'd. He took the Sangreal's holy quest. And, slumherins, saw the vision high. He might not view with waking eye.* The mightiest chiefs of British song Scorn'd not such legends to prohmg : They gleam through Spenser's elfin dream. And mix 111 Milton's heavenly theme ; And Diyden, in immortal strain, Had raised the Table Round again,* But that a ribald King and Court Bade him tell on. to make tliem sport; Demanded for tlieir niggard pay, Fit for their souls, a looser lay. Licentious satire, song, and play; The world defrauded of the high design. Profaned the God-given strength, and niarr'd the lofty line. Warm'd by such names, well may we then. Though dwindled sons of little men. Essay to break a feeble iaiice In the fair fields of old romance; Or seek the moated castle's cell. Where long through talisman and spell. While tyrants ruled, and damsels wept, Thy Genius. Chivalry, hath slept : There sound the hafpings of the North, Till he awake and sally forth. On venturous quest to prick asrain, In all liis arms, with all his tram. Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf. Fay. giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf. And wizard with Ins wand of might. And errant maid on palfrey white. Around ihe Genius weave their spells. Pure Love, who scat ce his passion tells; Mystery, half veii'd and halt reveal'd; And Honour, with his spotless shield ; Attention, with fix'd eye: and Fear, That loves the tale she slirinks to hear; And gentle Ctmrtesy; and Faith, Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death; And Valour, Iion-mettled lord. Leaning upon his own good sword. Well has thy fair achievement shown, A worthy meed may thus be won ; Ytene's a oaks— beneath whose shade Their theme the merry minstrels made. Of Ascapart. and Bevisbold.s And that Red King,'' who, while of old. Through Boldrewood the ch.ase he led. By his loved huntsman's arrow bled — Ytene's oaks have heard again Renew'd such legendary strain ; For thou hast sung, how He of Gaul, That Amadis so famed in hall, 4 See Appendix, Note 0. 6 Tlie New Forest in Hampshire, ancieQlljr no called. 6 See Appendix, Note D. 7 William Rufus. 7 MARMION. ::k 7^ For Oriana, foilM iii fisrht The Necromancer's felon might; And well in modern verse liast wove Partenopex's mystic love: » Hear, then, allenlive to my lay, A kujghtly tale of Albion's elder day. piavinion. CANTO FIRST. THE CASTLE. Day set on Norham's castled steep.2 And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep. And Cheviot's mountains lone: The battled towers, the donjon keep,' The loophole grates, where captives weep, Tlie flaiiking walls that round it sweep, III yellow lustre shone. The warriors on the turrets high. Moving athwart the evening sky, Seem'd forms of giant height : Their armour, as it caught tlie rays, Flash'd back again the western blaze, la lines of dazzling light. 11. Saint George's banner, broad and gay, T^ow faded, as the fading ray Less briglit, and less, was flung; The evening gale had scarce the p(twer To wave it on the Donjon Tower, So heavily it hung. Tlie scouts had parted ou their search. The Castle sates were barr'd ; Above the gloomy portal arch, I'lining his footsteps to a march, The Warder kept his guard ; Low humming, as he paced along. Some aucieat Border gathering song. III. A distant trampling sound he hears ; He looks abroad, and soon appears. O'er Horncliff-hill a plump* of spears. Beneath a pennon gay ; A horseman, darting from the crowd. Like lightning from a summer cloud, Spurs on his mettled cxiurser proud, Before the dark array. Beneath the sable palisade. I'liat closed the Castle barricade, His bugle horn he blew; The warder hasted from the wall, And warn'd the Captain in the hall, For well the blast he knew; And joyfully that knight did call. To sewer, squire, and seneschal. ^ IV. " Now broach ye a pipe of Malvoisie, Bring pasties of the doe. ^. 1 Parlenopa de Btoit, a poem, by W. 8. Rosi published in l»-08 — Ed. a See Appendix, Note E. 3 Ibid 4 This word properly applies to a fl\gh\ of • r applied, by analogy, to a body of horse. And quickly make the entrance free. And bid my heralds ready be. And every iiiiiisirel sound his glee, And all our irumjHits blow ; And. Iroiii the platform, spare ye not To fire a noble salvosliot ; wL^tftLMarniion waits below !" Then to the Ca.stle's lower ward Sped forty yeomen tall. The iron studded gates unharr'd. Raised the portcullis' ponderous guard. The lofty palisade uiisparr'd And let the drawbridge fall. Alons the bridge Lord Marmion rode. Proudly his red-roan chareer trode. His helm hung at the saddlebow ; Well by his visage you might know He was a stalworth knisht. and keen. And had in many a battle been ; The scar on his brown clieek reveal'd A token true of Bosworth field ; His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, Sliow'd spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; Yet lines of thought upon his cheek Did deep design and counsel speak. His forehead, by his casque worn hare. His thick mustache, and curly hair. Coal-black, and grizzled here and there. But more through toil than age ; His square-turn'd joints, and strength of limb, Shovv'd liiin no carpet knight so trim. But III close fight a champion grim, la camps a leiuler sage. VI. Well was he arm'd from head to heel. In mail and plate of Milan steel ; 5 But his strong helm, of mighty cost. Was all with burnish'd gold emboss'd ; Amid the plumage of the crest, A falcon hover'd on her nest. With wings outspread, and forward breast; K'en such a falcon, on his shield, Soar'd sable in an azure field : The golden legend bore aright, 215Eto rfjrcks at me, to tiratl) is tJigfjt.s Blue was the cliarser's broider'd rein ; Blue ribbons deck'd his archins mane ; The knishtly housing's ample fold Was velvet blue, and trapp'd with gold. VII. Behind him rode two eallant squires. Of noble name, and knightly sires; They biirn'd the gilded spurs to claim; For well could each a war-lior.se tame. Could draw the bow, the sword could sway. And lightly bear the ring away ; Nor less with courteous precepts stored. Could dance in hall, and carve at board, And frame love-ditties passing rare, And sing them to a lady fair. VIIL Four men-at-arms came at their backs, With halbert, bill, and battle-axe : " There is a knight of the Norlh Country, Which leads a lusty plump of spears " riodden Field, r, See Appendix, Note G. e See Appendix, Nole H, y 80^ SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. M hey bore Lord Marmion's lance so strong, And led his sumpter-inules along. And ambling palfrey, when at need Hiin listed ease his battle-steed. The last and trustiest of the four. On high his forky pennon bore : Like swallow's tail, in shape and hue, FhUter'd the streamer glossy l)lue, Wliere, blazon'd sable, as before, The towering falcon seern'd to soar. Last, twenty yeomen, two and two, 111 hosen black, and jerkins blue. With falcons broider'd on each breast, Attended on their lord's behest. Each, chosen for an archer good, Knew hunting-craft by lake or wood ; Each one a six-foot bow could bend. And far a cloth-yard shaft could send ; Each held a boar-spear tough and strong, And at their belts their quivers rung. Their dusty palfreys, and array, Sliow'd they had march 'd a weary way. IX. Tis meet that T shoold tell you now, How fairly arm'd, and onler'd how, The soldiers of the guard. With musket, pike, and morion, To welcome noble .Marmion, Stood in the Castle-yard ; Minstrels and trumpetei-s were there. The gunner held his linstock yare. For welcome-shot prepared : Enter'd the train, and such a clang. As then through all his turrets rang, Old Norman never heard. The guards their morrioe pikes advanced. The trumpets flounsh'd biave. The cannon from the ramparts glanced. And thundering welcome gave. A blithe salute, in martial sort. The minstrels well might sound. For, as Lord Marmion cross'd the court, - He scjilter'd angels round. " Welcome to Norham, Marmion ! Stout heart, and open hand ! Well dost thou brook thy sallant roan. Thou flower of English land !" XL Two pursuivants, whom taharts deck. With silver scutcheon round their neck. Stood on the steps of stone. By which you reach the donjon gate. And there, with herald pomp and state, They hail'd Lord Marmion : They Iiail'd him Lord of Fontenaye, Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye, Of Tamworth tower and town ; i And he, their courtesy to requite. Gave them a chain of twelve marks' weight, All as he lighted down. " Now, largesse, largesse.2 Lord Marmion, Knight of the crest of gold ! A blazon'd shield, in battle won. Ne'er guarded heart so bold," XIL They marshall'd him to the Castle-hall, Where the guests stood all aside. I Set Appendix, Note 1 3 Ibid, Mole K. And loudly flourish'd the trumpet-call, .jViKLttie heralds loudly cried, — •• Rooiii, lordings. room for Lord Marmion, With the crest and helm of gold ! Full well we know the trophies won In the lists at Cottiswold : There, vainlv Ralph de Wilton strove 'Gainst Marmion's force to stand ; To hini he lost his lady-love. And to the King his land. Ourselves beheld the listed field, A sight both sad and fair ; We saw Lord Marmion pierce his shiei'l, And saw his saddle bare; We saw the victor win tlie crest He wears with worthy pride ; And on the gibbet-tree, reversed, His foeman's scutcheon tied. Place, nobles, for the Falcon Knight! Room, room, ye gentles gay. For him who conquer'd in tlie right, Marmion of Fontenaye 1" XIII. Then stepp'd to meet that noble Lord, Sir Hugh the Heron bold. Baron of 'I'wisell, and of Ford, And Captain of the Hold. 3 He led Lord Marmion to the deas, R.iised o'er the pavement high. And placed him in the ujiper place — They feasted full and high: The vvhiles a Northern harper rude Chanted a rhyme of deadly fend, " How the fierce Tfiinealls, and Ridleys all,* Siout WdLimonilswick, And Hardridimj Dick, And HwiMe of Ha wd on. and Will o' the WaU, Have set on Sir Albany Fralherslonbaugh, And taken his life at the Deadman's-shaw" Scantily Lord Marmion's ear could brook The harper's barbarous lay ; Yet much he praised the pains he took. And well those pains did ()ay : For lady's suit and minstrel's strain. By knight should ne'er be heard in vain. XiV. " Now, good Lord Marmion." Heron says, "Of your fair courtesy, I pray you bide some little space In "this poor tower with me Here may you keep your arms from rust, M.\v breathe your war-horse well ; Seklorii hath pass'd a week but giust Or feat of arms befell : The Sciits can rein a mettled steed ; .\nd love to couch a spear: — Saint George ! a stirring life they lead, That have such neighbours near. Then stay with us a little space. Our northern wars to learn ; I pray you, for your lady's grace !" Lord Marmion's brow grew stem. XV. The Captain mark'd his alter'd look. And gave a squire the sign; A mighty wassail bowl he took, And crown'd it high in wine. " Now pledge me here. Lord Marmion : But first 1 pray thee f:ur, I See .\ppenUix, Note L. 4 Ibid, Note M. z y MARMION Where h:ist thou left that pase of thine, Tnat used to serve thy cup of wine, Whose beauty was so rare ? When last in llahy towers we met. The boy 1 closely eyed. And often mark'd his cheeks were wet, With tears he fain would hide : His was no ruirsfed horse boy's hand. To burnish shield or sharpen brand, Or saddle battle-steed : But nieeter seem'd for lady fair. To fan her cheek, or curl her hair. Or throush embroidery, rich and rare, The slender silk to lead : His skin was fair, his ringlets gold, His bosom— when he sierh'd. The rus.set doublet's ru??ed fold Could scarce repel its pride ! Say, hast ihou given that lovely youth To serve in lady's bower? Or was the gentle pase, in sooth, A gentle paramour T' XVI. Lord Marmion ill could brook such Jest ; He roH'd his kindling eye, With pain his rising wratli suppress 'd, ^ . Yet made a calm reply : "That boy thou thoughi'st so goodly fair. He might not brook the northern air. More of his f:ite if thou wouldst learn, I left hini sick in Lindisfarn :i Enough of him — But, Heron, say, Why does thy lovely lady gay Disdain to grace the hall to-day? Or h;is that danie, so fair and sage, Gone on some pious pilgrimage ?" "He spoke in covert scorn, for fame Whisper'd light tales of Heron's dame. XVII. Unmark'd, at least unreck'd. the taunt, -J^^areless the Knight replied, "No bird, whose feathers gaily flaunt, Delights in cage to bide : Norham is grim and grated close, Hemm'd in by battlement and fosse. And many a darksome tower; And better loves my la he would march with nioriiintr tide, _Xu Scottish court to be his guide. " But I have solemn vows to pay. And may not Imser by the way, 'I'll fair ^nnit Rule Ins holy lay i'roMi midnisht to the dawn ol day, Sum; lo I he billows' sound ; ' 'I'lieiice lo Saint Killan's blessed well. Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, And the crazed brain reslore : 2 S.iiiil Mary grant, that cave or spring CduM back to peace my bosom bring, Or bid it throb no more !" XXX. And now the midnight draught of sleep. Where wine and spices richly steep, III massive bowl ofsilver deep, 'I'iie pase presents ou knee. Lord .Marmioii drank a fair good rest, 'I'tie Captain pledged Ins noble aruest. The cup went through among liie rest, Whodraiii'd it merrily; Alone the Palmer pass'd it by. Though Selby press'd him (courteously. This was a sign the feast was o'er; It liush'd the merry wassel roar. The minstrels ceased to sound. Soon in the castle nought was heard, But the sliiw footstep of the guard. Pacing liis sober round. XXXI. With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : And first the ciiapel doors unclose; I'hen. after morning rites were done, {A hdsiy in;i.ss from Friar John, 3) And knight and squire had broke their fast. On rich .substantial repast. Lord .Marimoirs bugles blew to horse : Then came the stirrup-cup in course : Between the Baron and his host. No point of courtesy was lost; High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid. Solemn excuse the Captain made. 'I'lll. tiling from the gate, had pass'd ■■I'hat noble train, their Lord the hist. Then loudly rung the trumpet call; Thunder'd the cannon from the wall. And shook the Scottish shore ; Around the castle eddied slow. Volumes of smoke as white as snow, And hid its turrets hoar; Till they roll'd forth upon the air. And met the river breezes there. Which gave again the prospect fair. 1 S« Apienclix, NoteT. 2 Sre AppHiidix, Nole U. 3 •• la (Jaiholic couiiiries, in order to reooiirile the plea' sucex of th«? sjreat with the observances of religion, it wai oimmnii, when a party was bent for the chase, to celebralt muM, abn igcd uuii laaimeU of its rites, called a huuliiig' ^t l^;irmion. INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. TO THE REV. JOHN MARRIOTT, A. M. Ashestiel, Ellrick Forest. The scenes are desert now, and hare. Where flourish'd once a forest fair,-i When these waste glens with copse were lined. And peopled with the hart and hind Yon Thorn — perchance whose prickly spears Have fenced him for three hundred years, ^hile fell around his green compeers— 'Yon lonely I'horn. would he could tell The changes of his parent dell, /Since he, so grey and stubborn now. Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ; Would he could tell how deep the shade A thousand mingled branches made; How broad the shadows of the oak. How clung the rowan* to the rock. And through the foliage show'd his head. With narrow leaves and berries red ; What pines on every mountain sprung, O'er every dell what birches hung, 111 every breeze what aspens shook, What alders shaded every brook ! " Here, in my shade,'' methinks he'd say, "The mighty stag at noon-tide lay : The wolf I've seen, a fiercer game, (The neighbouring dingle bears his name,) With lurching step around me prowl. And stop, against the moon to howl ; The mountain-boar, on battle set, His tusks upon my stem would whet ; While doe, and roe, and red-deer gootl. Have bounded by. through gay green-wood. Then oft, from Newark's 6 riven tower. Sallied a Scottish monarch's power: A thousand vassals mustered round. Wit h horse, and hawk, and horn, and hound ; And I might see the youth intent. Guard every pass with crossbow bent; And through the brake the rangers stalk. And falc'ners hold the ready hawk ; And foresters, in green-wo(»d trim. Lead in the leash the gazehounds grim. Attentive, as the bralchet's'? bay From the dark covert drove the prey, To slip them as he broke away. The startled quarry bounds amain. As fast the gallant greyhounds strain ; Whistles the arrow from the bow, Answers the harquebuss below ; While all the rockins hills reply. To hoof-clang, hound, and hunters' cry. And bugles ringing lightsomely." m.-iKs, the brevity of which was designed lo correspond with the impatieuce of the audience."— A'o/e to -Tke Abba." \ew Edit. 4 See Appendix, Note V. 6 Mnuntain-a»h. 6 See Notes lo the Lay of the tast Miusttel. 7 Slowhouud. SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. ^ Of such proud tiunting:s, many tales Yet Imyer in our lonelv dales. Up pHlhless Ettrick and on Yarrow. Where erst the outhtw drew his arrow.! But not more bhthe tliat silvan court. Than we have been at humbler sport ; Though small our pomp, and mean our era me, Our mirth, dear Marriott, was the same. Remember'st thou my greyhounds true? O'er holt or hill there never flew, From slip or leasii there never sprang, More fleet of foot, or sure of fang. Nor dull, between each merry cliase I'ass'd by the intermitted space ; For we had fair resource in store, In Classic and in Gothic lore : We mark'd each memorable scene, And held poetic talk between ; Nor hill, nor brook, we paced along, But had its legend or its song. All silent now— for now are still Thy bowers, untenanted Bowhill ! ' No longer, from thy mountains dun. The yeoman hears the well-known gun. And while his honest heart glows warm. At thought of his paternal farm, Round to his mates a brimmer fills, And drinks, "The Chieftain of the Hills!" No fairy forms, in Yarrow's bowers. Trip o'er the walks, or tond the flowers. Fair as the elves whom Janet saw By moonlight dance on Caterhaugh ; No youthful Baron 's left to grace The Forest-Sheriff's lonely chase. And ape, in manly step and tone. The majesty of Oberon : a And she is gone, whose lovely face Is i)ut her least and lowest grace ; Though if to Sylphid Queen 'twere given. To show our earth the charms of Heaven, She could not glide along the air. With form more light, or face more fair. No more tlie widow's deafen'd ear Grows quick that lady's step to hear: At noontide she expects her not. Nor busies her to trim the cot ; Pensive she turns her humming wlieel, Or pensive cooks her orphans' meal ; Yet blesses, ere she deals their bread. The gentle hand by which they're fed. From Yair,— which hills so closely hind, Scarce can the Tweed his passage find. Though much he fret, and chafe, and toil. Till all his eddying currents boil,— Her long-descended lord* is gone. And left us by the stream alone. And much I miss those sportive boys,6 Companions of my mountain joys. Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth. Close to my side, with what delight They press'd to hear of Wallace wight. When, pointing to his airy mound, I call'd his ramparts holy ground ! 6 Kindled their brows to hear me speak; And 1 have smiled, to feel my cheek, Despite the difference of our years. Return again the glow of theirs. Ah, happy boys! such feelings pure. They will not, cannot, long endure ; Condemn'd to stem the world's rude tide. You may not linger by the side : For Fate shall thrust you from the shore, And Passion ply the sail and oar. Yet cherish the remembrance still. Of the lone mountain, and the rill ; For trust, dear boys, the time will come, When fiercer transport shall be dumb. And you will think right frequently, But. well 1 hope, without u sigh, On the free hours that we have spent Together, on the brown hill's bent. When, musing on companions gone, We doubly fee! ourselves alone. Something, my friend, we yet may gain, There is a pleasure in this pain : It soothes the love of lonely rest, I Deep in each gentler heart impress'd. "I'li silent amid worldly toils, AiiU stifled soon l)y mental broils: But, in a bosom thus prepared, Its still .small voice is often heard. WlLispermg a mingled sentiment, 'Twixt resignation and content. Oft 111 my mind such thoughts awake. By lone Saint Mary's silent lake : 7 Thou know'st it well, — nor fen, nor sedge, Pollute the pure lake's crysial edire; Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink At once upon the level brink ; And just a trace of silver sand Marks where the water meets the land. Far in the mirror, bright and blue. Each hill's huge outline you may view. Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare. Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake, is there, Save where, of land, yon slender line Bears thwart the lake the scatter'd pine. Yet even this nakedness has power, And aids the feeling of the hour : Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy. Where living thing coiiceal'd might lie ; Nor point, retiring, hides a dell. Where swam, or woodman lone, might dwell, There's nothing left to fancy's gues.s. You see that all is loneliness : And silence aids— though the steep hills Send to the lake a thousand rills; In summer tide, so soft they weep, The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; Your horse's hoof-tread sounds too rude, So stilly is the solitude. Nought living meets the eye or ear. But well I ween the dead are near: Ettr. V »lluy fancy range. To frame liim titling shape and stninge, ■| ill from the task my brow I clear'd. And smiled to think that I liad fear'd. But chief, 'twere sweet to think such life, (Though but escape from fortune's strife,) Something most malchless good and wise, A great and grateful sacrifice ; And deem each hour to mu.sing given, A step upon the road to heaven. Yet him, whase heart is ill at ease. Such peaceful solitudes displease : He loves to drown his bosom's jar Amid the elemental war : 1 See Appeiidi: 2 " Aud ni;iy a Find oui the pes Tbe liajry gown ^ and mossy lell, nnd nghlly xpell t heaven doth «ho' And every herb Ibat sipa llie i And my black Palmer's choice had been Some ruder and more savage scene. Like that which frowns round dark Loch- skene* There eagles scream from rock to shore ; Down all the rocks the torrents roar; O'er the black waves incessant driven. Dark misis infect the summer heaven; Through the rude barriers of the lake, Away Its hurrying waters break, Faster and whiter da.sh and curl. Till down yon dark abyss they hurl. Rises the fogsmoke white ;is'siiow. Thunders the viewless stream below. Diving, as if condemned to lave Some demon's subterranean cave. Who, prison'd by enchanter's spell. Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell. And well that Palmer's form and mien Had suited with the stormy scene, Just on the edge, strainim; his ken To view the bottom of the den. Where, deep deep down, and far within. Toils with the rocks the roaring linn ; Then, issuing forth one foamy wave. And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, White as the snowy charger's tail. Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. Marriott, thy harp, on Isis strung. To many a Border theme has rung:3 Then list to me, and thou shalt know Of this mysterious Man of Woe. ^: i^Scifmfon. CANTO SKCOND. THE CONVENT. I. The breeze, which swept away the smoke, Round Norham Castle roll'd. When all Ihe loud artillery sfioke. With liffhtmng-flash, and thunderstroke, As Marmion left the Hold. It cuii'd not Tweed alone that breeze. For. far upon Northumbrian seas. It freshly blew, and s rong, Where, from high Whitby's cloistered pile,* Bound to St. Cuthhert's Holy Isle,7 It bore a bark along. Upon the gale she stoop'd her side. And bounded o'er the swelling tide. As she were danciii? home ; The merry .seamen laughed, to see Their gallant ship so lustily Furrow the green sea-foam. Till old experience do attain To Bomeihing like prophetic strain." Jl Pmseroto, See Appendix, Note Y. 4 Ibid, Nn;e Z. See various balla