^ ^ V :.^ . r I I !> I-, ; ^^\ iC u. <-i ^ f ^ _. ' ^ 0^ ^^WE•UNIVER% ^lOSAMCElfj> ^i^Advtiarii^^' ^TiijoNV-soi^ "v/jaHAiNn-^u^ ■' exHIBRARYQ^ ^^^IIBRARYQ^ s Cii 5- ^' 2: ^' C-) r-n r—" Ll: ^ :?: 1 1 JO CD rf c> C -TI C rS UL 3> *~* >- ' f 5- 3r- |^# .s^' ^'- ,^MEUN!VEPy//> ^sV:lOS-ANC[!r.r> .\\f TO ■- r <: ■5^ iy^ss^ -^smmm^ %«] r\r-rMirnr5., # a ^ AAOSANCELfj> ^tllBRARYQ^ \^\\m\^ ^l-LIBRARYO^ ^^ —n cc A & CO 1 rr^ ^'^s^ ^lOS-ANCElfx^ CD ^>j^.OF-CAI,IF0% ^ ::i: :r3 i-O V .>^HIBRARYa^. ^Wlll BORDER MINSTRELSY. THE MINSTRELSY OF THE BEING A COLLECTION OF BALLADS, ANCIENT, REMODELLED, AND ORIGINAL, FOUNDED ON WELL KNOWN BORDER LEGENDS. WITH ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES BY FREDERICK SHELDON. LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1847. PR 1181 S54r7 Preface. T the prefent time when the fields of litera- ture are flooded with rivers of rhyme, any new " rivulet" of fong is apt to be regarded with indifference, or at befl becomes a nine-days' won- der, and then fettles down into oblivion. There is doubtlefsly little encouragement held forth to the poe- tical afpirant, that he fliould rack his brains for original fubjeds, when he bethinks him, how the feveral ave- nues to Parnaffus are already blocked up by the great Titans of Minftrelfy ; and the hope that fome fmall " fheep run," or obfcure road, may have been over- looked by the " fl:arry eyes" of the mighty mailers of the tuneful art, is my only excufe for prefenting this colledion of Ballads to the public. Some few of them may be already familiar to the reader ; but the generality, it may be confidently affirmed, now ap- pear in their prefent drefs for the firft time in print. b 11 -1/^,^90 vi Preface. Living on the Borders, and from the nature of my purfuits thoroughly acquainted with the popular le- gends and floating traditions of the country, I can truly fay that no diftrid is fo rich in hiftorical aflb- ciation, local traditions, ruined caftles, and battle fields, as the land of the " Coaly Tyne ;" every ftep the pilgrim takes, if not upon a " nation's duft," difturbs the mouldering remains of thofe brave warriors and Border Chieftains, who Lay down to reft in corftet lacedy Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; Carved at their meal with gloves of fteel^ And drank the red wine through the helmet barred. The fcene of the immortal ballad of Chevy Chafe at the foot of the Cheviots (the Englifli Pyrenees on a fmall fcale) ; the fatal fields of Otterburn, Humble- down, red Flodden, Halidon Hill, Hedgely Moor, Hexham, and numerous forays and onflaughts all lie within a few miles of each other. The rivers of the land are almofl: claflical ftreams : The Aln, the Tilly the Coquet and 'T'weedy Are famous for all fiftierie^ Preface, vii and (apart from their intereft to the lovers of the gentle art) for hiftoric aflbciatlons. Newcaftle, with its traditions of the Red Rufus, King David, Earl Moray, and the melancholic Charles, (as fome writer terms that unhappy monarch) rifing up from the dark abyfs of time, with all their earth-born paffions throned upon their brows, as when they lived and breathed- The Tyne, that murmurs paft the filent city of Hex- ham, where the heroic Queen of Henry the Fifth ftaked almoft her laft venture on her hufband's caufe. Dil- fton, twined with the fate of the gallant and unfortunate young Radcliffe, rifes like a fpe6lre of other days ; gaunt in its decay, and fprinkled with the blood of its ancient pofTeflbr. Reedwater brings us to the field of Otterburn, where a "dead Douglas" won a bloody field. Travelling eaftward, we pafs the holds of M it- ford. Proud Bothal and Warkworth, on the verge almoft of the ocean greet our fight : Warkworth ren- dered almoft facred ground by its little hermitage and cell, where the felf infliding hermit breathed out his days in penitence and prayer for the foul of his " ladye" he fo rafiily flew. At Alnwick, Hotfpur and all his gallant race ftart up to our imagination ; the battle- mented Caftle, looking as grim and ftern in its feudal viii Preface. afpeft, as when beneath Its walls adventurous Ham- mond ftruck his Border fpear through King Malcolm's eye, or his no lefs daring brother monarch, William, was taken prifoner by a fudden fortie of the gar- rifon. Hedgely Moor, fome ten miles diftant, where the young Sir Ralph Percy " faved the bird within his breaft," is chronicled by a lowly pillar, that imprefTes the pilgrim more by its humble afpedl than could a lordly column or elaborate maufoleum. Then comes Hum- bledown, hallowed by the genius of the immortal Shakfpere : and Flodden, the modern Pharfalia of Scotland, the laft fcene of the rafh and unguarded James the Fourth : — where the chequered tragedy of his ftirring and romantic exiftence was brought to a bloody clofe. The fheep browfe contentedly on the battle ground, where warlike Marmion, Surry, or the gentle Howard led on their men at arms to the charge. Labourers and bondagers (women bonded by the farmers, a remnant of ancient fervitude), purfue their agricultural purfuits, nor beftow one thought on the noble duft difturbed by their implements. Next, Berwick appears, girt with its ancient city wall : Ber- wick, the debateable town of a contefted land ; not Preface. ix a fpot of ground in whofe immediate vicinity, but is fraught with melancholy afTociations of former days, from the gallows of the young Setons, to the green on which the patriot Wallace's right arm was expofed on a pike. To win this now infignificant town, the Monarchs and Chieftains of England and Scotland once led up their power, and in the ditch, now almoft filled with rubbifh, the fiery Scot and warlike Southron rendered up bloody life. Where er we turn 'tis haunted^ holy ground. Northward, the bleak and lonely Lammermoors fpread their hills, alfo rife with traditions and local legends. Afcending the chronicled and romantic Tweed, the famed Border ftream of old, we plunge at once into the very heart of foray grounds. Border raids and fkirmifhes. Johnny Armftrong, the Johnftones, the Lads of Whampray, the Scots of Harden, the Faas, and a numerous lift of Reivers and Lifters crowd on us, whofe names are familiar to the readers of North- ern Minftrelfy as houfehold words. The Ettrick, the Teviot, the Yarrow and Gala, all furnifh their fhare of warlike and predatory Chiefs. The nume- rous "peels" and ifolated Border faftnefies, the caftles Prefc retace. of Home, Hermitage, Bamborough, Dunftanborough, &c. appear like fo many records of the paft, terribly leagued as their names are with many a fiege and bat- tle of olden times. The mountains, pafles, morafTes, and dales, each poflefles fome difmal and gloomy hif- tory of its own raids and forays ; but whofe feveral features are marked by fuch uniformity as to be ca- pable of being combined into one great and terrible fyftem. In fuch a country, furrounded on all fides by the mute but hiftory-fpeaking evidences of former days, dull indeed muft that pilgrim be who cannot furniili fome tale, legend or Ballad of the Border-reiv- ing, and battle-loving times of old. It is now upwards of forty years fince Sir Walter Scott publifhed his " Border Minflrelfy," and during his "raids," as he facetioufly termed his excurfions of difcovery in Liddefdale, Teviotdale, Tyndale, and the Merfe, very few Ballads of any note or originality could poffibly efcape his enthufiaftic inquiry ; for to his love of Ballad literature he added the patience and refearch of a genuine antiquary. Yet no doubt many Ballads did efcape, and ftill remain fcattered up and down the country fide, exifting probably in the recol- le6lion of many a fun- browned fiiepherd, or the wea- Preface. xi ther-beaten brains of ancient hinds, or "eldern" women; or in the well thumbed and nearly illegible leaves of fome old book or pamphlet of fongs, fnugly refting on the "pot head," or fharing their reft with the " Great Ha' Bible," Scott's Worthies, or Blind Harry's lines. The parifh dominie or paftor of fome obfcure village amid the many nooks and corners of the Borders, pofteftes, no doubt, treafures in the Ballad ware, that would have gladdened the heart of a Ritfon, a Percy, or a Surtees ; in the libraries too of many an ancient defcendant of a Border family, fome black lettered volume of Ballads doubtlefsly {lumbers in hallowed and unbroken duft. From fuch fources* I have obtained many of the Ballads in the prefent colledion. Thofe to which I have ftood godfather, and fo baptifed and remodelled, I have moftly met with in the " broad fide" Bal- lads, as they are called ; but notwithftanding their fire and pathos, I found fo much obfcurity and liber- tinifm mingled with their beauties, that I was com- pelled with a rafti hand to pluck the nettles away that * The reader will find in the notes prefixed to each Ballad the fource whence it was derived. xii Preface. choked the healthy growth of the young, frejfh, and budding flowers ; preferving as nearly as I could their ancient fimplicity and didion. Others by local and namelefs poets I have given as I found them. Thofe Ballads virtually my own are ftated to be fo in the notes, and thefe, with great fear and tribulation, I hang as a votive wreath on the altar of the Mufes. Schiller, Burger, Uhland, and a hoft of German and Englifh rhymers, have exalted the fliandard of Ballad Poetry much higher in the realms of literature than it was even a century ago. But the fervour of the rugged and wandering Minftrel of the olden times, has wofully abated ; even as a game cock, if kept too long in durance vile, and fed upon weak and fpiritlefs food, will grow fo dull that " a filver pheafant may peck at his comb with impunity." It is true that fome of our own Bards now and then ftill utter a few fnatches of fweet mufic ; but they foon relapfe into filence, and there is none to pour into liftening ears a long-continued drain of fublime and heart-ftirring fong. It was a wife faying of antiquity, " Shew me a peo- ple's Ballads, and I will tell you their laws and pur- fuits." Minftrelfy has ever been held in great vene- Preface. xiii ration, and the minftrels themfelves have always been objedts ofrefped. The great Homer himfelf was but a wandering Minftrel, the IHad being nothing more than a fucceffion of mighty Ballads. The Britons, barbarous and uncouth as they appear to have been, had ftill their Minftrels ; the Druids being both priefts and fingers. During the occupation of this ifland by the Romans, what a clufter of ftars fparkled in the literary horizon of imperial Rome. The Saxons, and men of Finland, Denmark, and Norway, were at- tended by Scalds and Minnefingers without number, and whofe laudatory ftrains feem to have infpired the fierce followers of Offa and Hengift. It was in the difguife of a Minftrel that King Al- fred explored the camp of the fierce Guthrum ; and a Danifh leader, borrowing the idea, donned the facred habit of a bard, and boldly entered King Athel- ftan's camp at York. In fhort, the Minftrel was re- garded as a facred character, for before the art of printing, and during its infancy, he was often the only chronicler of battles, fieges, or the ftrange mutations, common in times of anarchy and turbulence. The leviathan of fteam, although it has done much in offering fpeedy tranfit to the lovers of the pic- xiv Pi^eface. turefque, alfo deftroys the evidences of olden times. In its mighty march it throws to the winds the noble duft of the honoured dead, uproots Britifh tumuli, Roman forts and Saxon fortifications ; with unfightly ftride defaces the battle fields of our forefathers, and fpans with an embrace of iron the wild and folitary banks of our noble rivers. No place, however re- mote, is fecure from the rufh and ghoftly fcreech of this new invader. " Age fpares grey Marathon ; " but not fo the railway engineer ; and in the midft of the defolation, ruined grandeur, and gaunt repofe of fome old war worn and venerable pile of ruins, we find a pert modern railway ftation, looking like a fuit of armour of the twelfth century, with a Mackintofh wrapper over it. As our modern improvements are fweeping fafl: away the relics of the paft, it behoves us to preferve its chronicles, whether in rhyme or profe ; for fooner or later the ancient Ballads will have ceafed to exift, when a new race fhall have fprung forth, and peo- pled the earth in frefhnefs and vigour, the reminif- cences of the Borders perifhing with their forefathers. We may exclaim with the poet, that truly thefe Ballads Preface, xv arc " The abftrad and brief Chronicles of the Time : " we had better have " a bad epitaph after death, than their ill report when living." What would the world have known of good King Arthur, but for the old Ballads ? would the character of Edward the Third have appeared in fo amiable and homely a light, but for the information we glean of him in the " Tanner of Tamworth ? " But what fhall we fay of the Ballads of Robin Hood, Scarlet and Little John ? that Prince of outlaws and his band ; from the " Lyttle geft of Robin Hood," up to the magnificent pi6lure of him in "Ivanhoe;" we find his charadier ftill the fame, open, generous, free and merry, with, at times, a fpice of the mifchievous. What a mine of information lies in the old Border Ballads ! whilfi: we read them, the reiving times feem to return ; chivalry ftarts forth from her tomb, romance awakens from her nodding trance, and the ftern and haughty warriors of the Bor- der return in all their panoply and pride. Well may we fay with Sir Philip Sidney, " that the reading of Chevy Chafe hath been to us as of a trum- pet found." What can be more exquifite in its pathos than " Lady Anne Bothwelfs Lament ? " the very xvi Preface. words " Balow my Babe," are affociated with fuch touching tendernefs and woman's love, in fpite of her defolation and bereavement, that we look in vain for its equal at the hands of any poet of the prefent day. Of the Ballads in this colledion, I would only ob- ferve, that if all be not of the firft order, the kind reader will remember, that the divers of Ceylon can- not hope to meet with a pearl at every plunge. If I have but faved a few Ballads from deftrudion, and given them a temporary publicity, the ends for which this colledtion was made, will have been in part re- alifed. The lover of poetry need not look for any graceful expreffions, or polifhed tropes and figures in this volume, fince all will be found like the charac- ters that utter them, rude, wild, and fiery. The po- lifhed fentences of the Pope School of Poetry, would ill accord with fuch heroes as Lord Hepburn, Sir Gil- lum, Borthwick, or Loudon Jock. That they might be better exprefled I difpute not ; but every one will prefer nervous fimplicity to the over-refined language of a certain fchool of poets, who " imitate nature moil abominably," and who cannot give us the racy flavour Pi^eface. xvii of old Sack, though they put nutmeg and fugar in their mixtures. " Oh divine fpirit," quoth Phasdrus, apoftrophizing the empty wine cafk, " what muft thy liquor have been, when the dregs fmell fo charmingly ! " And fo fay we of the ancient Ballads. Berwick on Tweed, Nov. 1846. Contents. ORTHWICK'S Decree Seton's Sons, or the Beleaguering of Berwicke Halidon Hill The Ladye of Barmoor The Laidley Worm o' Spindlefton Heugh Mordyngton's Chafe Lord Hepburn Sir Gillum of Mydeltoun Lady Nell Bonny Lady Anne The Battle of Hedgeley Moor The Death of King Malcolme The Dame of Haggerftonnc The Slaughter of the Bifhop The Lament of Clavering The Gloamyn Buchte The Outlandifh Knight The fair Flower of Northumberland Lady Jean Syr John le Sprynge The Death of Red Eric Page I H 31 43 57 68 78 104 119 122 125 144 156 162 171 178 192 199 209 218 224 XX Contents. Page The Laird of Rofliii's Daughter 230 Loudon Jock's Courtfliip 236 The Two Rofes 246 Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy 250 Earl Moray's Capture 260 The Merchant's Garland 272 The Worme of Lambtone 29 1 Belted Will 305 The rare Ballad of Johnny Faa and the Countefs o' Caffilis . 326 Countefs Joan's Garter 334 The Ballad of Meikle Mouthed Meg, or the Wife of the Wuddy 349 Heaton's Raid 373 The Gramarye 380 The Death of Bawtie 391 Bevvkley Blue Stane 395 Young Ratcliffe 400 Black Adam of Cheviot 412 Minftrelfy of the Englifh Border. Borthwick's Decree. HIS Ballad is original. In the vici- nity of North Berwick (a fmall fifhing town nine miles from Dun- bar) rifes North Berwick Law, a fteep mountain, whofe height from bafe to fummit is computed at three miles. There is a tradition in the neighbourhood that Borthwick would give his daughter only to that fuitor who ihould bear her to the fummit of the mountain without fetting her down. To this propofal the heir of Cockburnfpath joyfully acceded, and the adventure terminated as it has been defcribed in the ballad. From the top of North Berwick Law a beautiful profpedt B Border Mmjlreljy, prefents itfelf to the eye. The fhores of Fife, with Canny Edinbro' may be diftindlly feen. The " Ewe and the Lamb " are two ifolated rocks, not far from the fhore. The *' Bafs " is too well known to require any notice. A fhort diftance from the town of North Berwick, on a floping cliff, is fituated a ruined tower, which is ftill pointed out by the fifhermen as the abode of the '' Manly Borthwick of old." Such trials of ftrength as narrated in the ballad were by no means uncommon. In the Iliad, a Grecian King is indebted for his wife to his fkill in the dance, having " kept the floor" (to ufe a border expreffion) againft all competitors, and tired them out. Borthwick's Decree. ORTH WICK of North Berwick Law, Wons in his Seav/ard Tower — Which looketh on to the German Sea, A wild and lanely Bower. The fea mew and the fhrieking gull. May fing him to his fleep. For the wafh o' the wave comes oure the top O' Borthwick's auncient keep. Fair is the winding vale o' Tweed, Fair is the dawn of day. Fair is the opening of the fpring And fweet the gufh of May. 4 Border Minjl reify. But fairer, rarer, Tweeter far, Is Borthwick's Ifabel, She hath an eye — a rofy lip. What tongue her charms can tell. Up in the morning early oh, Up in the early morn ; Who lies abed when abroad he may go. With hounds and hunting horn ? Up rofe the heir of Cockburnfpath, And a wilfu' youth is he, '^ Let there be danger in the way My true love I'll go fee." '^ Nay, do not go to North Berwick," His trufty yeoman faid, *' For Borthwick's fcouts lay on the lea, To tak thee quick or dead." " Love gives me ftrength, love gives me fpeed, Love aids me where I go i Not for his fcouts will I turn back, Or lout to them I trow." BorthwicK s Decree, He had not gone abune a mile, A mile or barely three. When four ftout hallyons unawares, Sprung on him from the lea. And they have bound his arms ahint With cord and hempen band, " Does Borthwick treat me in this fort Like a thief upon your land ?" " Wha' finds the wolf, or prowling tod Within the Laird's domain, Small weight fhall reft upon his head Who hath the vermin flain." '' Why do I find thee here, young man. Thou heir of Cockburnfpath ; To come fae foon when warnit away Is daurful of our wrath. " Did I not fay, a fathers nay. Forbid thy coming here ; A true man's word fhould kept thee back, Why come in fuch effeir ? Border Mm Jl reify. " My dochter Ifabel is trothed To Murray o'Marfhall's Mead, Why thruft thy felf beneath my fword, Why court her for thy greed ?" " Every man may chafe the hare So long as runs it free, Every man drinketh of the Burn That fings unto the fea." " Every man's no, is not a ' Nay,' For now and evermore ; I may yet fwim unto the land When thruft out from the fhore. " What Murray o' Marfhall Meadows hath. Do I not hold the fame ? He hath no more or I enough Of bravery and fame. " If he has noble blood and birth, Strong limbs ! why so have I ; If Murray outbrags me at a game Gude faith then let him trv. BorthwicKs Decree. " Thy dochter is no fheep or fteer That thou fhouldft market her ; I'll bid thee a bode, and give thee a fee. If thou bringft her to the fair." Borthwick he thought awhile, and then Ettled the laugh in his eye. Then turn'd to Murray and daffin fpake To Cockburn ryghte courteoufly. " I will not have ye fight this out, Much better it were, I wilTe, To fet ye both at a trial of ikill, In a game of pleafantnefs. " The laugh kills not as fwords can do. The tongue knit with a jeft, Flytes at a ftab and cannot wound The body with unreft. " Who carries my dochter to Berwick Law, Here from, and back again ; No let or ftop upon the ground Shall have my child for his pain. 8 Border Minjlreljy. " For we come of the manly Borth wicks ftill. In the auld and auncient days. Who better loved the trick o' ftrength, Than the dark and bloody ways. " Call hither my dochter Ifabel, Now Murray I fpeak it fo, Carry my bairn to North Berwick Law, Or here thy fuit forego." Loud laughed the Lord o' Marfhalls Mead, " I bear no maid," faid he ; " She that is Lady o' my love, Muft bear the weight o' me." " A craven's boaft is quickly faid," The heir of Cockburn cried ; " Come Ifabel thou art fit one That I fhould make my bride, *' Throw off thy fhoes my pretty bird. Thy girdle and pearl necklace ; A pin's point almoft weighs a pound Before I end my race. Borthwkli s Decree. " For to the top of North Berwick Law, Is three long miles and more, And the heavy toil up the mountain fide Will make it feem a fcore." He took her in his manly arms, And ftarted in his race. Never a one who followed him Could keep up with his pace. And now he fung as the banks grew fteep. And made him pant and blow ; " Love gives me ftrength, love gives me fpeed. Love aids me where I go. " Lay ftill within my arms fweet luve. Lay ftill my Ifabel ; For the gully's deep and the fcaur is fteep. And the diftance it is fell. " Give me a glance o' thine hazel eye. When I falter in my race. Or breathe the breath of thy honey mou' Upon my heated face." lO Border Minjlreljy. " Love gives me ftrength, love gives me fpeed,' Undauntedly he fung ; And wi' the burden o' his fang The rocks around him rung. " Seeft thou the top of the mountain yet ?" Unto his luve he cried ; " Nothing but heather and ling around," Fair Ifabel faid and fighed. " I fee the Ifle of May, and the Bafs, And the Yewe and Lamb in the fea. The fhores o' fife, the Dunbar coaft, Wi' canny Edinbrie." " O Ifabel, I 'gin to faint, For the way is long and fteep ;" The pretty maiden bowed her head. And long, long did fhe weep. " O that I were a Bird this once. But now and for thy fake, O Willie fweet, have courage yet. And one mair effort make. BorthwicK s Decree, 1 1 " O give me not to Murray's arms, I'll breathe upon thy face ;" It frefhened him, and he upward rufhed, New heartened in the race. He ftaggered now, for his legs grew tired. And his arms were weak as tow ; And as he ftrove to keep his feet. He flicker'd to and fro. '* That ever love fhould not be light. That ever that form of thine. Should tire my heart, and ftouteft limbs. And bid my courage tyne." " O faint not yet, I fee the top. And a Saugh tree by a ftone." Poor Willie he gathered up his ftrength. And his heart fent forth a groan. *' My Ifabel, my ftrength does fail. And the top we have not won ;" " Oh Willie, dear, one ftruggle mair. Ere ftrength and hope are gone." I 2 Border Minjlreljy. He clenched his teeth and drew hard his breath. Like a man to win or die ; Then did he rufh o'er fcaur and bufh, And gained the mountain high ! He gained the Saugh tree, and he placed Fair Ifabel on a ftone. And forward fell upon his face Wi' a deep and hollow groan. Borthwick the youth raifed in his arms, " He'll come roun' when he's nurft." — But the blood cam' ow're poor Willie's lips, For his very heart had burft. ***** There's a green grave on North Berwick Law, And a maniac comes and fings, And wi' the burden o' her fang The valley 'neath her rings. '' Love gave him ftrength, love gave him fpeed," So fings this mad damfel ; BorthwicK s Decree. 13 " Never a love was yet fo fayre But fortune it was fell." A hunter ranged one early morn, The top o' Berwick Law, Wi' her cauld cheek on a caulder ftane, Withouten ftir, withouten moan. Yon fair Mayden he faw. Seton's Sons. THIS Ballad is originalj and is founded on the fol- lowing fa6ls. Edward III. having marched into Scotland, laid fiege to Berwick upon Tweed. The Scots, convinced that the reduction of this town would be the chief aim of the enemy, put it into a complete pofture of defence ; and to refift any attack with which it might be threatened, threw into the garrifon a chofen force, headed by Sir William Keith, and Patrick, Earl of Dunbar. The King of England, animated with youthful enthufiafm, repaired to the fcene of adlion before the walls of Berwick, where he profecuted the fiege with great vigour ; but finding after the lapfe of a month that the powerful place had no lefs powerful and refolute defenders, he changed the fiege into a blockade by fea and land, and patiently awaited the iffue. The befieged fuffered much from the cutting off of their fupplies ; and after many vigorous but fruitlefs attempts to force a pafTage through their Setons Sons. 15 enemies' lines, they at length made a defperate attack upon the fleet, by which a great portion of the fhip- plng was burnt. In this aflault William Seton, the fon of the Governor, was drowned, according to fome hiftorians, and his brother made prifoner. The brave garrifon defpifed all terms of capitulation, well know- ing that Lord Douglas had raifed a mighty army, and was marching to Berwick with great expedition ; but great was their aftonifhment to behold Lord Douglas, inftead of crofling the Tweed and falling upon the Englifh, proceeding along the coafl to attack Bam- borough Caftle, which having been deemed impreg- nable, was fixed on by Edward as a refidence for his Queen during that fliormy period. Lord Douglas had entertained the hope that King Edward's regard for his royal confort would compel him to raife the fiege of Berwick and haften to her affiftance ; but the Englifh monarch, goaded by hatred and revenge, would not be moved from his determined purpofe. During this time the a6t took place on which the Ballad is founded ; an a(5l which fullies the luftre of Edward's military renown, and fixes an indelible ftain on his memory. It is recorded by Buchanan and Boece, and other Scottifh writers, as authentic. " Hof- tages were delivered by the Scots, for the performance of what related to them in the treaty, one of whom was the eldeft fon of Sir Alexander Seton, who was 1 6 Border M'mjl reify. Deputy Governor, and who took the command on Keith's reforting to the camp. King Edward had alfo at this time the youngeft fon of Seton, who had been taken prifoner in the aflault on his fhipping. The king, ftrongly imprefTed with the convidlion that if the Scottifh army under Douglas approached Berwick he might fail in the capture of the town, refolved in- ftantly to compel the governor to deliver up the place. And foon after Keith departed, Edward infifted on the inftant furrender of the town ; threatening, if the governor refufed, to hang his two fons up at the foot of the ramparts. In vain did Seton remonftrate with the mercilefs king ; for Edward, deaf to all the charges urged againft him for fo flagrant a breach of honour and public faith, ordered a gibbet to be ere6ted in full view of the town, to carry into execution his moft de- teflable threat. Seton in agony, fl:ruggling between contending impulfes that put every fentiment to the tefl, would, it is fuppofed, have yielded to nature, and thereby faved the lives of his children at the expenfe of his country's honour and his own, had not the mo- ther, with a degree of heroifm worthy of a Roman matron, and equal to the greatnefs of the moil exalted mind, ftepped forth, and with the moft forcible elo- quence argued to fupport his principles, and fuilain his fainting foul. Whilil the bias of parental affedtion yet inclined him to relax, flie withdrew him from the har- Seto?is So72s. I 7 rowing fpedlacle, that he might preferve his reditude, though at the ineftimable price of his two gallant fons. Edward, with an unrelenting heart, and a revenge ftrangely applicable to the age he lived in, put them both to death in fight of their bereaved parents ; and Seton kept pofTefTion of the town." Hutchinfon's Hif- tory of Durham and Berwick/Jiire, page 497. Some hiftorians have queftioned the truth of this horrid a6t : but tradition, which is ufually faithful in fuch fad cafes, ftill points out the fpot where it was perpetrated. It is a confiderable eminence on the fouth fide of the river, a little above the Bridge Well, and has fince been called " Hang a dyke neuk." Two human fkulls are alfo preferved in the Poor Houfe at Tweedmouth, which have been handed down through many fucceffive ages as the ikulls of the two gallant fons of Sir Alexander Seton. Edward's chara6ter was a ftrange compound of "half dirt, half deity," as Byron remarked of Burns— his greateft glories are eclipfed by his enormous crimes, and the frefhnefs of his laurels watered with the blood of his flaughtered vi6tims. It may be as well to ftate that Douglas after this bloody deed, marched his army over the Tweed to Hallidon Hill ; and eventually there gave battle to the Englifii : for particulars of which fee the Ballad entitled '^ Hallidon Hill." Seton's Sons, or the Beleaguering of Berwicke. (Firft time publifhed.) Y Mither weeps, my mither greets, And winna comfort tak, Pray for my foule all Chryftan Men, For holy Chryfte his fake. " 1 hearde a fweet bird iing folemnlle. This iimmers early morn, The mavis he lilted, the cufhat crooued, Whilft the laverock cheep'd in the corn. " The Englyfh Kyng hath broughten fchyps. To ding down Berwicke Wa' ; They've rowed them up by the fan fton feel. And the anchors loot doun fa'. Setons Sons. 19 " They threw fhotte from the Tweedmouth fhore Syne o'er the hill it pafTed, But my auld feyther laughed at the fport, And ftill the gates held faft. " They rowit a fchyp clofe to the quay, And their yardis touchit the wa' ; The faylor loons cloomb up the fhrowds. And along the banks they fta'. " But my feyther he loupit out from the ftane, That was biggit firmly doun ; I wat he handled the faylors fayre. And broke the foremoft croun. " He fixit a tow, and let in a low On Kyng Edward's loftie fchyp ; She lunted in the heavens fae high, Then canted in her tryp. " We made a foray upon their camps. The brig we barred up well ; How I and my brither Richard got ta'en Was wycked wark o' hell. 2 Bordet^ M'mjlreljy, " Hugh Elliot — oh ! thouft dune a deed. To earn a traytors name, In heat o' fyght, he clofed Brig gates. And left us to be ta'en. " Kyng Edward now fwears by the roode. He'll hang up both fae high, Gif my feyther winna Berwicke yield. The de'il flyte hym ere he flee. " My mither weeps, my mither greets. And winna comfort take ; Pray for our foules all Chryftan men. For holy Chryfte his fake." Lady Seton was wauking yet, And fat in her lonely bower ; The yewe and the lammie had layd doun to refl;. But the mither fhe wept in her tower. " My luvely lord, why forrow fae, Gif Yedward will make fie dinne. Gyve up the gates o' caud Berwicke My fons foulis do not Imne. Setons So7ts. 21 " It is my bonnie fons that lie In chaynes fae glum and doure ; It was their voices that I heard Call on me frae the fhore. " They cried, * Oh ! we are baith too young, To wear halters on our hawfe ; My mither dear, fpeak for our lives, Our feyther's no that faufe. " * Let him gie up the Berwicke keys. When Percy toots his horn, Or we fhall die nae faire ftrae death. Upon to morrow's morn.' " Seton he groant in trouble fair. As he ftampit roun the roome : " What have I done good honey Chryft, That thou fuldft deal this doome ? " Feeling is ftrong, but duty more, What dule fo e'er it bryng ; How coulde I gie my truftis uppe Wi' confcience to my kyng. 2 2 Border Minjireljy. "My name as yet is fayrly dight, Och then in my laft breath, Dinna let's fyle the precious gift Wi' the forn o' a bafe Menteath. " Better my buirdly founes fuld die, A thoofand tymes," he fayd, " Than lyve and fee their feyther fhunned As a knvcht difhonnered. '* Duty and feelin fecht within, then my luvely wyfe. Never weigh honour on the fteele, Againft difgracefulle lyfe." The ladye moant and the ladye wept Sic byg drops fhe loot fa', The pearlis on the Qiieen her hawfe, 1 wat to them were fma'. Quo fhe, and wringt her lily handes. Like one in trouble fair ; " Duty is nathelefs hard to thole. But feeling it is mair. Seto?ts Sons. " We may recover our honour, luve. But never our fonnes fae dear : A mither's tears will not be held By any talk or lean" « Thou reafonft falfely, ladye luve, For honour, it is playne, Once fyled or mifted with diftrufte, VV^ill ne'er grow fayre agayn. " I will not do it, fae help me Chryft," Quo he, " I'll keep gude fayth ; I winna yield the Berwicke toun. Come a' my fonnes to fcaith." She rowed her head in her whyte wymple, Syne laid it on a buird. Looked in his eye wi' liccan a face, But never fpak a word. He's caft him doun upon a ftool, Sae doure and grym his woe, The blood fprang frae his lips fae whyte. As he rockit to an fro. 24 Borde?^ Mm/lreljy. Fytte Second. "17^ ING Edward he had mynftrels fyve. And they Tung a' each their fang ; When he foddenle ftrak the buird wi' his fift. That the Chryftalrie all rang. " Gae up intill that auld tray tor. That dwells in yon bear march toun ; Tell him, I redde he tent my words. Or ere the nicht be dune. " Lorde Percy this fhalt thou tell this carle, I hold his fonnes in fee. And if he difna yield the morn, Hangit they baith fall be." Lorde Percy he rofe frae the buird. And to Berwicke bent his waye : " My feyther's fonne never fo bafe an errand. Before this nicht did gae." Setons Sons. 25 He chappit upon the brigs middle yett, " I come wl' a worde o' grace, Sae tak me to your Governor, For I maun fee his face." They blynded his e'en as they gaed up the bank, And alang the Berwicke wa' ; Syne o'er the drawbridge abune the ditch, And into the caftle's ha'. They lifted the bendifh frae his e'en. In the banquet ha' fae high ; *^ Lord Seton I come to fave your fonnes. Or furely maun they die. " Gin ye yield no the Berwicke keys, Kyng Edward he has fworn. By Chryft his rood to hang them baith. As falls the coming morn." Seton he gafpit and he girned. And fhewed his teeth fae whyte. His e'en were glaikit like a man's That's ftrycken wi' affryghte. 2 6 Border Miitjl reify. Quo he, " Lorde Percy, dinna thynk I fpeak your lugs to blaw ; But let him fpare my twa brave formes And at his feet I'll fa'. " And wat them wi' thefe happing tears That wafh my auld auld e'en ; That channel doun thefe wrynkelets, Gin he will lift bedeen." " My bairnies," quo the mither then, " That I hae kift fae aft, Canna we fave them frae their death, But fie a pryce we coft. " Thare pretty necks I've flibber'd fae : Ah ! Percy, gentil lorde. To hae them raxed upon a tree, And ftrangled wi' a cord ! " O Jefu ! 'tis unkenned the wyte Upon my herte fae fair, To hang my bairns, or mak their feyther Difgracit for ever main" Setons Sons. '* My honour, gentle, gentle lord, I weepe to mak me blynde. How fhall I gyue the keys to him, And yet my honour fynd ? " My childiren are deere to me, I've hyked them in thefe arms ; Balth have their mither's voice and feyce. My blude theyre bofom warms. " I'll die for them, gif your kyng likes. And freely do the fame : Oh Percy ! tell me what to do. Save them, and fcaith all blame." Percy he fidgit to gang awa'. And fyne he rubbit his e'ee ; ** Curfe on the ftoure, it blynds one fae. The de'il a thyng I fee." He joukit cannily oot o' the room, For the leddy fhe grippit him fair ; And Seton he bow'd him to the yett, Syne doun the ramparts ftayre. 2 8 Border Minjlrelfy. 4k ^ ^ ^ T^ •V' ^ They biggit a gallows on hangie dyke neuk, And the hangman came there betyme, The cock crow'd loudly o'er the muirs, " Seton's founes, 'tis matin pryme." The trumpets founded out oure the Tweed Wi' a blaft o' deadly found ; Auld Seton and wyfe gaed up on the wa's, For theyre fonnes to death were bound. They kent the tread o' their gallant bairns As they cam forth for to dee ; Richard he mounted the ladder fyrft, And threw himfelf frae the tree. William he was his mither's pride, And he looked fae bauldly on ; Then kyft his brithers lyeflefs hands, When he fand the breath was gone. " My feyther he looks frae the caftle wa's, My mither and friends are there ; To die a cur's death, for na faut ava, Gude feyth, - but 'tis difpayr. Setons Sons, 29 " But there's a heaven abune us a', And a kindly God forbye ; And a burning hell as Edward Tall ken, When the day comes he maun die. " My mither weeps and my mither greets. And winna comfort tak ; Pray for my foule all Chryftan men, And holy Chryfte his fake." He leaped from aff the bitter tree, And flauchtered in the wynd, Twa bonnie flowers to wither thus. And a' for yae man's mind. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ O ! there was a fhriek rofe in the air. So wylde, fo death lyke gien ; A mither's wail for her gallant bairns. Such fight was feldom feen. It called the grey gull frae the fea. For he wift his mate had fpake. Never a mither in city walled, Wi' a heart that wadn't break. 30 Border Minjlrelfy, Scarce had the breath been out o' their bouks, When Douglafs he cam in, And brought relyf to Berwicke's town, Wi' fifteen hundred men. They drave pale Edward o'er the hill. And burnt his hail fchipping ; But all the blood could never lyfe Unto thofe twa lads bryng. Douglas he fired ane hofpital, And the wounded Englifh fhrieked fair ; " So crys a ratton," faid grim Douglafs, " When the hindis fmoke their lair." He tuke a wealthy merchant wight With three more o' his countre fyde ; And ftringt them up on the fame gallowes, Whare Seton's bairnies died. They proffered him the gude red gold. But he aye cry'd " Seton's fonne : Did ye count down the haill o' Englande's wealth. Ye fuld hang till the lyfe were dune." Halidon Hill. 'TPHIS ballad, which I have remodelled in a great -*- meafure, firft appeared in a local Poem, entitled "Widdrlngton, or a tale of Hedgely Moor;" publifhed at Alnwick in 1827, by John Hall. It is almoft a continuation of the events immediately following the hanging of " Seton's Sons." The incident on which the ballad is founded is gleaned from the Hiftory of Berwick on Tweed, which fpeaks as follows : " On the 1 8th of July, Lord Douglas marched his army over the Tweed, and encamped at a place called Dunfe Park, Bothill or Bothule. The Englifh occu- pied Hallydown Hill, a very confiderable eminence, about two miles and a quarter north-weft from Ber- wick. The high ground fully commanding a profped of all the approaches to the town, afforded a moft advantageous pofition for attacking an enemy advancing 32 Border Mijjjireljy. againft it from the Scottifh fide. The Scotch army was formed into four grand bodies, and according to fome writers amounted to 68,000, but this is doubted. The number of King Edward's is not pofitively ftated by any author ; but many hiftorians are of opinion, that the two contending parties were nearly equal. When both armies were ready to commence the attack, the fhock of battle was for a fhort time fuf- pended by the appearance of a Scotchman of gigantic fize, who had obtained the name of Turnbull, on account of a magnanimous exploit, by which King Robert Bruce was refcued from the attacks of a wild bull that had unhorfed him while hunting. Turnbull, accompanied by a great maftifF, fallied forth with great flrides, and approaching the Englifii army with an invincible air, challenged any perfon in it to clofe with him in fingle combat. After the fiiort paufe which fuch a novel occurrence caufed, the chal- lenge was accepted by Sir Robert Benhall, a young Nottinghamfhire knight. Though inferior in ftature to the Scottifh champion, yet he was of furprifing bodily ftrength, and furpaffed by none for his adroit- nefs in military achievements. The maftiff, with the utmoft ferocity darted forward, but the undaunted knight dealing him a fkilful blow upon the loins with his fword, cut him in two. The Scotch hero was advancing, when Benhall, with Halidon Hill. 33 singular agility eluded the weighty blows aimed at him, and firft cutting off the left arm of his antagonift, then ftruck off his head." Sir Walter Scott, in his dramatic fketch of Halidown Hill, has given every information connedled with the battle, yet as it may not be in the recolledion of every reader, I have fubjoined the following : " Notwithftanding this difafter (the defeat of Turn- bull, called in the dialed: of the Border Trummell), the Scottifh army made a vigorous effort to gain the fummit of the hill. To animate their troops, and to render the danger equal, the leaders difmounted, but the impetuofity with which they afcended the fteep put them out of breath. The Englifh archers, who were ftationed on different parts of the hill, poured down fhowers of arrows on the clofe battalions of the Scotch troops, which made a fhocking daughter amongft them ; they alfo fuffered greatly from the rolling down of large ftones from the height, and in a fhort time were thrown into confufion. The Eng- lifh commander perceiving this, ordered their fpearmen and men at arms inftantly to attack them, by which being preffed, breathlefs and difpirited, multitudes fell vi6lims to their mercilefs opponents. This forced the Scots to retreat, but they rallied again with great bravery, and returned to the field, firmly maintain- ing the conflidl, until Douglas, their General, was D o 4 Border Mi7ijlreljy. mortally wounded with a fpear, which fatal catas- trophe reaching the ears of the Scottifh force, they became panic flruck, and a total rout enfued. The carnage that followed was dreadful ; for the fervants intrufted with the care of the horfes fled, leaving their mafters behind a prey to the devouring fword of a con- quering foe. Edward commanded in perfon a chofen brigade of cavalry, and archers equipped on horfeback, attended by Lord Darcy, with his Irifh troops, led on the purfuit, and concluded the flaughter ; fo that the country for the diftance of five miles from the field of battle, was ftrewed with the carcafTes of the flain. The Englifh hiftorians fet forth that the Scots loft on that fatal day 8 earls, 90 knights, 700 efquires, and 35,000 private men. But it is juftly doubted whether the Scottifti army amounted to fo many, as party writers always fwell the numbers of the foe, to make their vidory the greater. Several, however, of the Scotch nobility and gentry were taken prifoners, and Boece charges Edward with the crime of having put them barbaroufly to death the day after the battle. Douglas before he fell difplayed many ftriking proofs of true bravery and diftinguifhed heroifm ; the fpot where he fell is to this day called Douglas Dyke. The day after the battle, the town and caftle was furrendered to Ed- ward, who faithfully obferved the terms of capitulation. He remained fome days in Berwick, to refrefti himfelf and his army, and ordered a public thankfgiving to be Halidon Hill. 35 obferved throughout his dominion ; and as a further monument of pious gratitude, he made a donation of 80/. per annum to the Ciftercian Nuns, near to whofe convent the battle was fought ; together with com- plete restoration of all damages done to the Conven- tual Church, and other buildings. ' Thus,' fays Ridpath, ' affedting, like moft other conquerors, to draw heaven to his party, and to regard the fuccefs attending an unjuft enterprife as a proof of the peculiar favour of the Deity.' " This ballad, therefore, appears in a new drefs, and if it throws any light on the barbarous and ftormy times when might prevailed over right, the author is fatisfied. In the words of the pfalmift, " The owl fhall hoot from the houfe of the ungodly, and the hare pillow on the hearth of the unrighteous." Such in a great meafure has been the fate of the caftles of thefe barons of the Border. The Convent of Ciftercian Nuns, fpoken of in the above extrads, is now fwept from the earth, and not a ftone left upon another ; fo true it is that time fpares neither the altar nor the hold of the tyrant. What a contraft a walk on a mild fummer's evening now prefents to the favage (laughter and bloodfhed at the time of the battle. The iheep graze contentedly on the fatal field ; and the '' Kye " rowte in the twilight by the ** Douglas Dyke." Halidon Hill. T was the Englifh kept the hill, O' Halidon from the foe ; The men were hufhed, the fteeds were ftill. The arrows refted in the bow. When lo ! from out the Scottifh ranks, A giant warrior ftrode amain ; A bloodhound followed at his heels. And Trumball was the champion's name. A battle axe was ower his arm, His gluve of fteel he drew, And offer'd there to abide the ftroke Of a Southron leal and true. Halidon Hill. 37 Two yardls was this Scot in length, Bound on his mail was a red bulls hide, He ftood the Southron ranks before. And all their mighty hoft defied. Sir Benhal was the boldeft knight That ever rode at the ring ; He heard the ftalwart champion's brag, And faw his challenge fling ; He rode his charger down the field. Where Trumball ftalked in pride ; *' I'll hang thy gauntlet on my fhield. And one tilt with thee ride. " On either fide no foldier move. We'll fight this hand to hand ; Thy manhood for thy Scottice king. And mine for fay re Englande." Glowered the Scot down on his foe : " Ye coof I cam not here to ride ; But fyne tis fo, gie me a horfe, I'll curry thee thine Englifh hide." 8 Border Minjl reify. Quod Benhal, " I cam to fight a Man, And not a blude maftyff, — Were ye a Man and no a pup, Saynt Bride I had as lief." " Foam not or fret, thou baby knicht. Put fome food in thy wame. For thou art but the champion Of fome fond Norfolk dame. " My dog fhall fhake thy filken hide. Thy brainis prove his fee, Gif in that bagie fkull of thine There any brainis be." " Thou art a bragging piece of clay, Sae fyrftwife prove thy threat ; " Loud geckit Trummall as he cried " I'll mak' thee haggifh meat." They wheel't the fleeds, more ground to gain. Each drew back from his man ; And thro' the ranks like bumming bees, A fizzlet whifper ran. Halido?2 Hill. 39 They blew the trumpet loud and ftrang, Each knicht the fignal knew ; The fpurs ftrak deep, the courfers lap. And o'er the moor they flew. Like wind and water meeting fierce, Sae was the overthrow. The thud fae mighty that it fhook The hurl ftanes on the knowe. To flynders flew the aflien fpear. And low upon the heath, Baith knichts and horfes rolling lay ; And hauding in the breath. Doure Trumball from the heath arofe, A knicht full fl;ell was he and fl;eer ; Tho' bruifed in limb, his charger flain. And broken his guid border fpear: But yet his Scottifli heart was gude. For Scottifli hearts are bold and true. He raifed his mighty battle axe. And to Sir Richard nearer drew. 40 Border Mmjlreljy, Sore fhook, Sir Benhal onward came. His hand his father's faulchion bore ; A fword well known in fields o' France, In bloody Border raids of yore. Gude need had he for trufty brand. For Trumball was fupple and tall ; Wha' oft when fighting hand to hand Made mighty warriors fall. " Come on ye coof," was Trumballs cry, Quod Benhal, " Your heart is falfe. What think ye of our Englifh pups. Now that ye feel their claws ? " Trumball he hounded on his dog, " My bull flayer feize his throat ;" The dog leaped high, but with one wide fweep Sir Benhal the bloodhound fmote. Sair foamed the Scotfman, when he faw His bonny hound lie dead. His huge axe whiftled in the air. And fwung around his head. Halidon HilL 41 Sir Benhal ftaid not for the bat. But he lap within his guard, Knocked out his teeth with his fwords pommell ; And wow, firs, it was hard. Twas thruft and blow, and heavy dunts. And round the Scotfman's mail Sir Benhal's fword fhed levin fparks. Like fhowers o' winters hail. Strove Trumball often in his rage To grapple the Southron Knight ; Benhal was tentie and kent full well. Sic wark wad end the fight. Keen were the blows from Benhal's fteel. They rang on Trumball's mail ; Who ftacchring feebly feemed to reel. As tho' his ftrength did fail. He heaved his axe for a mighty blow, And ftruck at the fouthron's hide ; Never another Sir Bernal wad feen. Gin had he not lap afide. 42 Border MiJtjl reify. The axe fell wi' an awfome crafK, But the Englifher fhun't the blade. It dotheret to yird, and in the mool An awfu' chafm made. Benhal he hewed fae fierce and fell, Trumball's right hand went down. And wi' another awfome paik He cloured him o'er the crown. The Scotfman, like Faft Caftle fell Sae heavy, fae laing and doure ; He grip'd Sir Benhal wi' his tae arm, And they roH'd upon the moor. Never again had Benhal feen. His lands in Leicefterfhire ; But death it ftayed the ftrangling grafp Kept by that buirdly fere. Sir Benhal he cut off his muckle head. And he blew on his bugle horn ; And he turned away to the Englifh ranks, Wi' his mailing rent and torn. The Ladye of Barmoor. THIS Ballad is original. Tradition has tranfmitted from age to age the fuperflitious belief that Lowick Moor, and the grounds adjacent, are the fcenes of the midnight gambollings and revelries of the " wondrous hare of Barmoor." The Ladye of Bar- moor was fuppofed to have dealings with the fairies, or with the common enemy of mankind. Under various forms the witches of the Border delighted to fport. There were Bogles, Bargeials, Brownies, Kelpies, Water Linkeys, and a hoft of other fpirits all wickedly inclined ; and feldom did any Ro- bin Goodfellow or laughing Puck vifit the brown heaths, rifted dells, and fullen ftreams of the Cheviots. The Hare of Barmoor, though not adlually mifchievous, feemed to have a fpice of "Cutty Sark" in her com- pofition. The " Brag," was an apparition that ap- peared in various fhapes, and would feem to have been a local fpirit. In the Wanderings through Northum- 44- Border Mi?tJ}relJy. berland, occurs the following paflage. *' It became necefTary for me to procure the befl local authority and information on the fubjeft, and an old woman, ninety years of age, living near the fpot, was univer- fally referred to as knowing mofl about it ; and her depofition is therefore given verbatim : flie faid ' I never faw the Brag very difiin^ly^ but I often heard it; it fometimes appeared like a calf with a white handkerchief about its neck, and a bufhy tail. It came alfo like a galloway, or more often like a coach horfe, and went trotting along the lonin (lane) be- fore folks, makin a greet nicker (laugh), and a whin- ney now and then : and it came frequently like a dickafs, and it always flopped at the pond at the four lonin ends. " ^ My brother once faw it, like four men holding up a white fheet : I was then fure fome relation was going to die, which was very true. My hufband once faw it in the fhape of a naked man without his head. I knew a man of the name of Bewick, that was fo frightened that he hanged himfelf for fear on't. When- ever the midwife was fent for, it always appeared In the fhape of a galloway. Dr. Harrifon would not be- lieve in It, but he met it one night as he was going home, and it amalft killed him ; but he never would tell what happened, and did never like to talk of it, and whenever the Brag was mentioned, he fat trem- blln and fhakin by his firefide. The Ladye of Bar moor. 45 *' * My uncle had a white fuit of clothes, and when- ever he put them on he alway met the Brag ; and he never had them on afterwards but he always met with fome misfortune : and once when he met the Brag, having his white fuit on (being a bold man, and having been at a Chriftening), he got on the Brag's back, but when he came to the lonin ends it joggled him fair, that he could hardly keep his feat, and at laft it threw him off into the middle of the pond, and with a great nicker ran away. " ^ But this I know to be true, when my father was dying, the Brag came up the lonin like a coach and fix, and gave a great yell, fo that the houfe fhaked, when my father died — and then it went clattering away, and gallopin down the lonin as if yeven and yerth were thegither.' " Sir Walter Scott fpeaking of the Bar Geift as a "freakifh goblin who delights rather to vex and torment mankind than ferioufly to hurt them," mentions Shelly cot as one of this clafs, *^ who refides in the waters, and has given his name to many a rock and creek on the Scottifh coaft." The Bar Geift was a frequent attendant on the midwife, following her fometimes in the fhape of a dog, a harCy a monkey, or a little deformed man, to the dwelling of the good woman who was about to make an addi- tion to her family : where he ufed to chatter and mow at the window, and imitate in a ludicrous manner the 46 Boj^der Minjlreljy. converfation of the goffips, and the cries of the good lady in the ftraw. Sixty years ago the country people of Hedley, (a fmall village in Northumberland,) were frequently annoyed by the pranks of a Bogle, called the Hedley Kow. His appearance was never terrific, but like the Bar Geiji of Sir W. Scott, he ufually ended his frolics with a hoarfe laugh, to the fear and aftonifhment of thofe on whom he played the trick. To an old woman gathering flicks on the road fide he would appear in the likenefs of a fad, or trufs of ftraw lying in the road ; this the old dame would ge- nerally take pofTeftion of, but in carrying it home, it would become fo heavy that fhe would be compelled to lay it down. The ftraw would then appear as if quick ; would rife upright and ftiuffle away before her, fwinging firft to one fide and then the other, every now and then fetting up a laugh, or giving a ftiout, in the manner of a country dancer when he knacks his heels and fnaps his fingers at the turn of the dance ; and at laft wholly vanifiiing from her fight. Two young men belonging to Ebchefter went out one night to meet their fweethearts, and on arriving at the appointed place they faw their two girls, as they imagined, walking before them a fhort diftance ; the girls continued to walk onward for two or three miles, and the young men to follow without being able to The Ladye of Bar moor, 47 overtake them. They quickened their pace, but ftill the young women kept before them ; at length when the lovers found themfelves up to the knees in a quagmire, the girls fuddenly difappeared with a very unfeminine " Ha ! ha !" The vagaries and mifchievous fports of the various fpirits that were wont to linger among the dells of the Cheviots, are quoted to explain the verfes in the follow- ing ballad, beginning with the " Cattle fall fick, &c." The original ftory of Tam o' Shanter was fome- thing of the fame nature as the Hare of Barmoor. According to a verfion of the traditional ftory of Kyle, Tam o' Shanter feeing, amongft other ftiapes at the auld kirk of Alloway, a fine hare, fired at it, and to his furprife on reaching home, he found the gude wife dead in her bed, with the mark of a bullet in her breaft. Barmoor ftands one mile weft from Lowick (an irregular village of mean houfes) ; it was the caftle of one Sir William Mufchamp, in the reign of Edward I. William Mufchampe, who afterwards held it, was high ftieriff of the county, in the reign of James I. Here the Lord Marchers aflembled a body of 10,000 troopers, for the purpofe of attack- ing the Scots, who had flain a party of Englifti near Roxburgh. This was in Henry Vth's reign. Surry and his fon flept at Barmoor the night after the battle of Flodden. Woodend Wood, where he encamped 48 Border Minjlreljy, before the battle, is at the extremity of the parifh, and is now overgrown with a few ftunted fir trees, hazel bufhes and nettles. A mile to the fouth is Watch Law, (a lofty hill that overlooks the vale of Flodden, as the road finks with a great defcent to the village of Ford,) where Surry obferved the motions of his antagonift:. Bowfdon fl:ands two miles north-weft of Lowick, a fmall clufter of houfes ; according to tradition, a Scotchman ftrayed into the fteading with a halter in his hand, and his anfwers to the queftions put to him were fo unfatisfa6tory, that they hanged the unfortu- nate Scot on a tree by the way fide with his own halter, which gave rife to the country faying " a Bowfen tippet to the man wha canna clear himfel." Doddington ftands in the vale of Till, three miles from Wooler. Weetwood is on the north banks of the fame ftream, a fmall diftance from Horton Caftle. And the blood fell dreeping upon ajcroll. A compa6l with the devil it would feem was not binding, until it had been figned with blood taken from the perfon's arm. Felton and Morpeth^ and Hexham bullies. Have courjed her in vayn by the faire daylighte. The hounds of Northumberland have ever been held in great efteem by fportfmen, for their ftaunch The Ladye of Bar?noor, 49 courage and unmatched fleetnefs. On one occafion, the following extraordinary chafe happened to two fox- hounds, belonging to a gentleman near Morpeth. He threw off his pack on a covert near Morpeth, when on beating the bufh, a fox was unkennelled on the flank of the rear foxhounds. They doubled upon him with their ufual eagernefs, and after a fpirited chafe loft fcent ; but the two leading hounds were miffing, and neither came up at the huntfman's voice nor the found of the bugle. The fox raced towards Rothbury Foreft, where it was feen purfued by the hounds ; here he was headed off, and then took his courfe for a ftrong earth on Simonfide hill ; from whence, being hard purfued, he ran northward, and croffed the Coquet at Cragwell, where he expedled to find an afylum. Being difappointed, he made towards Thornton Crag, and eventually ftretched away to the Cheviots. In the evening, a fhepherd on the fkirts of that mountain, heard the cry of the hounds at a diftance, and ffiortly afterwards faw a fox coming towards him at a flow pace, and two hounds a few yards behind him, running abreaft, and yelping forth a feeble cry. The fliepherd held his ear, and continued filent until the fox was caught by the hounds, when they tumbled down and fell upon, but from utter exhauftion, were unable to worry him. The fhepherd fprung forward to the fpot, grafped Reynard by the brufh, and pulled him forward 50 Border Minjl reify. for the purpofe of defpatching him, but he was already on the ponit of expiring. As foon as the hounds were a little recovered, the fhepherd took them to his cot- tage, and gave them the beft it afforded. At Wooler market the hounds were cried, and the owner hearing of it, ultimately recovered his hounds. The zigzag courfe they had run in the race, was computed at feventy miles ; and what is remarkable, the fox feemed perfedly acquainted with all the ftrongholds in his paf- fage. Mackenzie's Northumberland^ &c. l^ut ril kittle her lug with a filver Jlug. Silver was fuppofed to kill a witch or any charmed perfon, when lead had loft its efficacy. Claverhoufe was fuppofed by the Covenanters to have been fhot with a filver bullet at the pafs of Killikrankie. Ancroft Church is the burial ground^ &'c. The village of Ancroft is a fmall colledion of houfes five miles from Berwick. The church, an ancient edifice with a fquare tower, from the middle of which an afh tree grows, (rather an unufual ornament for a fteeple), is fupported on an arch, where its roots are fuftained by the decay and moifture of the wall ; it is a chapelry to the vicarage of Holy Ifland, the dean and chapter being its patrons. The Lady of Barmoor. HE Ladye of Barmoor donned her gear. And left her couch one early morn ; Her lord and her little bairn's afleep, Oh why, does that Ladye look forlorn. Why early rife to the hunter's horn ? She has left behint her the fayre caftell, And over lone Lowick Moor went fhe ; Nor ever fhe halted or drew in her ftep, Untill in a glen by a blafted hour tree Awaiting her coming a wight you may fee. They made a bargain 'twixt them twain, Down and adown in that grewfome glen ; That padion to know, wad her huiband be fain. But never 'twas known to the fons o' men ; The toad was a witnefs, the corby and wren. 52 Border Mmjireljy. The wight he was not like a woman's fon, A bogle or fpe6tre moft like he ; Tho' fnell was the wind and cauld the morn, A low from his mouth burnt furioufly, And flafhes o' levin fhot out frae his e'e. What faid they there, that awfu' pair, Knew never a man that owned a foul ; The ladye wi' bodkin fhe wounded her arm. And the blood fell dreeping upon a fcroll. For ink, fome of it, thefe twafome ftole. The Lady fhe gaed awa home thro' the broom : Her marrow, I ween, flew up in the air ; Oh ! his was a lightfome journey to go, To be borne aloft in a morning fo fayre. And to fly wi' out wings fure wond'rous were. O he failed along the lift in glee, Tho' fiery breath he aiblins drew, " A witch on this earth is another for me ;" As o'er the fenny bogs he flew, A flame outfliot, and he vaniflied from view. The Ladye of Bar?noor, 53 ***** There is a hare by Doddington, That flies fo fafl: no dogs can catch ; A hare on Lowick Moor there is, No living thing with her may match. So fwift o'er dub and dyke can flie ratch. It plays on Barmoor bents in glee. And flifks on Kyloe's hills fae green. It gives the double unto the dogs. Runs them a courfe, then — never is i^^w : Baith greyhounds and huntfmen glunch and grane. She diftanced Gregfon's o' Lowlinns dog, The pride of the north, on the Lucker lea ; Dinning's of Newlands ran into a drain ; And the beft o' Till Side and the countery: Now clofe to the hounds, then a furlong is flie. For the Coldftream dogs are flow in pace. And flie flioweth in fcorn her fcut fo white ; Felton and Morpeth, wi' the Heham bullies. Have courfed her in vain in the broad daylight ; But flie leaves them to curfe in rage and fpite. 54 Border Mi7ijl reify. Down by Ford Caftle, and Crookham Town, Out oure the hills o' red Flodden field. Has travelled the fame of this hare's renown ; To man or a greyhound fhe never will yield. The' her form is made on a rufhy bield. The kye fall fick, and the milking maids Work at the kurn, but nae butter appears ; The farmer returning from market, he wades Thro glaure, and follows a light that he nears. When fwith — in a bog hole he's oure to the ears. The green corn is bittled flat down on the lea. And it rains three days in the week, or more ; The murrain and water deftroy the flocks. And the fifher's cobles and nets on the fliore. Are fwept away by the ocean's roar. Hearken what Watty of Bowfen has done. He bade the Priefl: his greyhound blefs ; He took a dollar o' Spanifli filver. And cafl: it intill a bullet no lefs : " Nor fl:eel or lead will harm her," he faid ; The Ladye of Bar moor. c^^ " But I'll kittle her lugs in a filver Aug, A charm againft witchcraft her hide fall drefs." They fet up the hare on Barmoor Fell, Ere o'er Weftwood Tank the fun ; Stout Watty he loofed his dog from the leafh, " In God his name now run." But the hare fhe boggled awhile in her fpeed. As tho her ftrength were done. She doubled his hound on the Limeftone Rig, And away for the moor fhe came ; Watty o' Bowfen he levelled his gun, Tho' his hand fhook fore as he looked down the And perdi he took gude aim. [bore. So true his look and the fhot he took. From her breaft the white fur flew ; When fhe canted over upon the bent, And vanifhed from their view ; Nor more of the hare o' Barmoor Fell, Thefe hunters ever knew. ***** 56 Border Mi?tjlreljy. The Baron o' Barmoor went to his room. To tak his evening reft. His Ladye lay dead upon the bed, With the foul fiend grinning abune her head, With a bullet mark in her breaft ! Ancroft Church is the burying place, O' Barmoor's Barons bold ; No grave is dug in that holy yard. Nor burial knell is knolled. That Lady is buried where four roads meet ; A ftake through her heart for unchriftian life. And a bible at her feet. The Laidley Worm o'Spindlefton Heugh. THIS Ballad was made by the old Mountain Bard Duncan Frafer of Cheviot, who lived A.D. 1320, and was firft printed fome years ago from an ancient MSS. by Robert Lambe, Vicar of Norham. That it is authentic the ftyle and rude nervous rhyme fuf- ficiently indicate : for its popularity I can well avouch, as I have often heard it in my wanderings through the country of Bamborough, fung by the fifhermen's wives, or the bondagers in the field. Bamborough Caftle, the fcene of the prefent ballad, ftands on the crown of a lofty rock, triangular in figure, one of its points proje(5ling into the fea : and many of the buildings being on the very brink of the rock. The view from the fea is extremely impofing, the caftle being nearly 150 feet in perpendicular height above the level of low water mark. Spindlefton ftands 58 Borde?^ M'mjl reify. on the eaft fide of the burn called the Warn ; this has been a military poft of fome confequence, the traces exift of an entrenchment of a circular form, and for- tified with a triple ditch and vallum. Ida, King of Northumberland, is faid to have firfi; fortified this rock. On the converfion of the Saxons a chapel was erected within the walls, dedicated by King Ofwald to Saint Aidan. Hoveden, who wrote about the year 1192, fays, " Bebba is a verie flironge citie, but not exceedingly large ; containing not more than two or three acres of ground : on the top of the hill fi:ands a fair church, and in the weftern point is a well of verie clear water," which, with poetic truth we may confider as the well of the Spindlefton Worm. This ancient fortrefs has furnifhed hifliory with many memorable events ; and it is impoffible not to be deeply interefted whilft gazing on the towering and lofty bat- tlements where King Ida held his court. There is fomething inexprefiibly tender in the lines. Oh quit thy /wordy unbend thy broiVy ^c. In the ballad as originally printed the line fliood thus, " and bend thy bow ; " but as it is clear the text fhould be " unbend thy brow," I have taken the liberty of making the emendation. To quit the fword and bend the bow, were contradictory commands. i The Laidley Worm o' Spindlefton Heugh. HE King is gone from Bambro' Caftle : Long may the Princefs mourn. Long may fhe ftand on the Caftle wall. Looking for his returne. She has knotted the keys upon a ftryng, And wi' her fhe has them taen. She has caft them oure her left fhoudher. And to the Caftle ftie is gane. She trippit out, ftie trippit in. She tript into the yard ; But it was more for the King his fake. Than for the Queen's regarde. 6o Border Minjl reify. It fell out on a day, the Kinge Brought his Quenis home ; And all the Lords in the north countrie To welcome them did come. *' Oh, welcome, my father," the damfel cries, " Agayn to your halls and bowers ; And fo are you, my fayre ftep mother. For all thefe things are yours." Out cried a Lord, while the damfel (pake, " This Princefs of the north SurpafTes all her maiden feres In beauty and in worth." The envious Queen out cried at laft, " You mought have excepted me ; But in a little I'll bring this mome Down to a low degree. " I will her liken to a Laidley Worm, That warps about the ftone, And not till Childe Wynd cometh back. Shall fhe again be won." The Laid ley Worm, 6i The Princefs flood at the bower door. Laughing, wha fuld her blame ? But ere the next day's fun wente downe, A lang worm fhe became. For feven miles eaft, and {^Ytn miles weft. And {qnqw miles north and fouth. No blade of grafs or corn would grow. So deadly was her mouth. The milk of i^woxv ftreakit cows. It was their coft to keep, They brought her dayly, whyche fhe drank Before fhe wente to fleepe. At this day might be feen the cave Where fhe lay faulded up. And the trough o' ftone — the very fame, Out of which fhe did fup. Word wente eaft, and word wente weft, Word is gone ower the fea ; That a Laidley Worm in Spindlefton Heugh, Would ruin the North Country. 62 Border Minjlreljy. Word went eaft, and worde went weft, Worde oure the Tea did go ; Childe Wynd, he got a wyte of it. Which filled his heart with woe. He called ftraight to him his merry men all. They thirty were and three ; ** I wifti I were at Spindlefton Heugh, This deadly worm to fee." **^ We have no time here for to wafte, Let's oure the fait feas fail ; My only fyfter burd Margaret Some ficknefs haplys ail." They built a fhip without delay, Wi' mafts of the rowan tree ; Wi' fluttering fails of fylk fo fine, And fet her on the fea. They went on burd withouten ftop. The wind blew oure the fea ; At length they fpied a huge fquare tower. Upon a rock fo high. The Laid ley Worm. 63 The fea was calm, and the lift was clear, When they failed coaflyng nigher. King Ida's caftell they wot it was. And the banks of Bambroughfhire. The Queen looked out o' her bower fae fyne, To fee what fhe fhould fee ; There fhe efpyed a gallant fhyp Sailing upon the fea. When ihe beheld the filken fails. Full glancing in the fun, To fink the fhyp fhe fent awa' Her witches every one. Their gramarye was all vain. Before the Queen they flood ; Crying " Witches have no power, Where there is rowan tree wood." She flormed in rage, and fent a boat. Which in the haven lay. With armed men to board the fhyp — Childe Wynd drove them away. 64 Borde?^ Mhijireljy, The worm leapt up, the worm leapt down, She plaited round the ftane, And aye, as the fhyp cam to the land. She banged it off again. The Childe he failed his ihyp from her reach. And ran it on Budley fand ; And jumping into the fea fhallows. Securely got to land. And now he drew his berry brown fword. And laid it on her head. And fwore gif fhe did harm agayn. That he would ftryk her dead. " O quit thy fword, unbend thy brow. And give me kifTes three ; For though I am a poifonous worm. No hurt I'll do to thee. '' O quit thy fword, unbend thy brow. And give me my kifTes three ; If I'm not won ere the fun goes downe. Won fhall I never be." The Laid ley JVorm. 65 He quitted his fword, and fmoothed his brow. He gave her kifTes three ; She crept untill the hole a worm. And came out a fayre ladye. No weeds had on this fayre ladye. To keep her from the cold, He took his mantil from him about. And on her did it fold. He has taen his mantil him about, And in it he wrap'd her in. And they are up to Bamborough towers As faft as they can win. t The King had mourned her ferpynt fhape, No remedie could fynd ; But glad he was when he faw her come. Along with tall Childe Wynd. He fought the Queen, and foon her found, All payle and fore afrayd, Becaufe fhe knew her power muft fayl. Before Childe Wynd's, who faid ; 66 Border Mi?ijlreljy, " Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch. An ill death mayft thou dee ; As thou haft likened my fifter dear. So likened fhalt thou be. " For I will turn thee into a toad, That on the ground doth wend. And won, won, fhalt thou never be. Till this world have an end." He fprinkled her with three drops o' th' well. In her palace where fhe ftood ; When fhe grovelled down upon her belly, A foul and loathfome toad. And on the lands near Ida's towers, A loathfome toad fhe crawls ; And venom fpits on every thing Which Cometh to the walls. The virgins all of Bamborough town Will fwear that they have (ttn This fpiteful toad of monftrous fize, Whilft walking on the green. The Laid ley Worm. 67 Nor dwells a wight in Bambroughfhire, But fwears the ftory's true ; And they all run to Spindlefton, The rock and cave to view. This fadl now Duncan Frazer Of Cheviot fings in rhyme, Left Bambroughfliire men fhould forget. This a6t of Ida's time. Mordyngton's Chafe. THIS ballad appears in print for the firft time. There is a German ballad by Monk Lewis on the fame fubjeft, entitled Lindor's Hunt. The Ger- man Sabbath Breaker is dealt with in a more lenient manner than our fturdy Borderer. The Mordyngton who is reprefented as the hero of the ballad was one of the Mordyngtons of Mordyngton, the lands of which lay to the fouth of Lamberton. It conftituted one of the original pofTeffions of the Coldingham Monks, and the Saxon or Norman emigrant, who held them of the latter in feu, took the name of Mordyngton. William de Mordyngton or Bondington, as his de- fcendants defcribe themfelves in contemporary chroni- cles, held the high office of Cancellarius, or Chancellor of Scotland, during the reign of Alexander the Second. He granted the Monks of Coldingham a fifhing water in the Tweed called Schipwell. This charter with its round feal, bearing the figure of an armed man on Mordy72gto?i s Chafe, 69 horfeback is ftill preferved in the archives of Durham. He alfo appears as witnefs to fome of the charters granted to the Priory by Patrick Earl of Dunbar, be- tween the years 1182 and 1232. In 1 249, two months previous to the death of Alex- ander the Second, he was one of the twelve knights ap- pointed to hold a meeting for afcertaining the laws of the marches between the two kingdoms, and enforcing their obfervance. Petrus de Mordyngton took the oath of allegiance to Edward the Firft, at Berwick, 12th of June 1294. After a variety of fucceffes and depreffions the lands of Mordyngton ultimately went to the cele- brated Black Agnes, Countefs of Dunbar, the heir of Mordington's iifter, who fell at the battle of Neville's Crofs. The laft defcendant of this border family engaged in the Rebellion of 1745, and only efcaped the axe through fome flaw in the indi6lment. He died without ifTue ; and the lands of Mordyngton pafled into another family. The Church mentioned in the ballad, is a gloomy little cemetery ftudded with mofs-covered monuments in its burial ground. The names of the hunters mentioned in the ballad are all gentlemen in the immediate neighbourhood, and renowned for their fporting qualities. s 3 Mordyngton's Chafe. ORDYNGTON ftood upon Halidon Hill One early Sabbath morn ; Albeit the day, his heart was gay, For he wad go chafe wi' hounds and horn. His chaplayne's advice and his foulis price Mordyngton laughed to fcorn. There's Marfhall and Robertfon o' the lees, Scremerfton's Birkie, and Smith o' Ford Hill, Carnep-ie of Edrom mounts in the breeze, Wi' huntfmen and hounds the fox to kill ; The bells o' Berwick and Foulden rung, " Come away to the matins," they jowled and fung. But little I ween cared Mordyngton For Sabbath bells or chaplayne's prayer ; " I have," quo' he, " a church of my own, Mordyngtori s Chafe. y i Chaplaynes, go mumble your havers there ; A book-bofomed prieft fall not hinder my fport. Or baulk my billies for fake o' a prayer." With a whoop and halloo, away he flew. On his charger adown the lea ; The fox is foon found, and is now in view, " Tally ho, tally ho ! " is the huntfmen's cry ; He took them by Cocklaw and Canty's brig. Then doubling back by the Nine Wells* rig. It's down by New Water haugh fo low, And away up the Tweed to Paxton toll. O'er dale and down to Hutton town. And then the fox frae the hunters ftowl ; Mordyngton raged at the fudden check, And fearful he fwore, and curfed his fowl. He whipped up the houndis to fynd the fcent But all in vayn, for they'd loft it quite ; The riders were jafkit, fome homeward went. For the day had warded into the night : Tho ftill as they fcoured baith holm and hill. Murkier round them grew the light. 72 Border Minjlrelfy. " Haud away, haud away ! " faid Millfields Gray, A daring rider as all in the field, " To your hall let's home, the fox is ftoln. And fleeping ere this in a cozy bield." *^ Tho' I hunt thefe grunds till the judgment day, I'll find yon fox," did Mordyngton fay. Scarce had he fpake, when the lift grew redde. And the lightning flalhed out owre the fea, The thunner grummelld and hoarfely rummeld^ And amid all this din rofe a " tally ho" cry. " Hark unto Satan ! the deevil has found him ! " And he put on the houndis, and off he did flee. He fpurrit fae faft, the grooms he pafT'd, To win the brufh faith but he was fayne. And faint as he flew, fank the wild halloo. Amid the fobs o' the wind ftifled rain ; He rode on his lane, never caring a crack, Up a wild glen, from the darkening plain. Nor fox and hound, whan he lookit around. Could Mordyngton fee, nought but rocks and whin. The owlet flirieked an' the raven croaked. Mordyngto?! s Chafe. 73 An' a wailing fob as of fuffering Came on the wind ; the tall pines groaned, And Mordyngton's beaft he fnorted and moaned. He fpurr't up a rife, and faw wi' furprize, A horfeman in black abreaft o' him ride, A wauchancy face, and a pair o' redde eyes, Tho' Mordyngton raced, yet he kept at his fide. And a fhimmering kind o' a flickerin' light, Flafhed from his garments and lit up the night. " Gude e'en to ye, Mordyngton, faith but ye ride Fiercely, and fell o'er the ftibble and lea. " He touched the Laird's horfe on the withers and fide. And the charger was lamit fuddenly. The ftranger he laughed wi' a fhudderin' found ; " But the fpunk's foon out o' your naigie," quo' he. " My caftell is mony a mile frae this." " I'll gie thee my horfe inftead o' thy own." But Mordyngton paufed, for a kind o' a fear Ran thro' his marrow unto the bone ; Loud laughed his neebor, his e'en they rolled, " My Belzebub's gude as ever was foal'd." 74 Border Minjireljy, The ftranger's fteed was as black as the night. The flakes were as white as the foam o' the fea, Frae his eyeballs they flafhit a fcorching light ; 'Twas a noble aiver as ever mout be. The fl:ranger lap doun, and held his beaft, And doubtfully Mordyngton lighted neifl. " Come mount on my fteed to fair' thy need. Thou laird o' Mordyngton fae brave." But he fhrank away, and nothing did fay. For the ftranger was black as a midnight wave. Quo he, " It was tauld me, ye're doure and bold, A cock wi' whyte feather art thou when all's told." Mordyngton reddened up at that fneer, And he fprung on the beaftie in ire ; " Wert the horfe o' the devil, the father of evil, I wad ride it below to the brumftane fire. Now lowfe thou the head, I'll try its fpeed In the name of the faints," Mordyngton cried. Like one at the wrack, the fteed ftarted back. And fliuddert a wee, on its haunches he fell : " Swear not by the faints, but in name o' the fiend. Mordyngton s Chafe. 75 And my horfe he fhall carry thee well." Mordyngton cried, and the deevil defied, And awa' went the horfe ou'r valley and fell. It ftaid not for ditch or dale or hill. For rock or for mountain or rifted pafs. For river or torrent or ftream or mill. For moor or bog, meadows or morafs ; Onward he fwept, and his pace he kept. And rivers and lakes like puddles he leapt. Away, away, wi' a fpeed like wind. The charger he fped wi' his rider in dread ; Towers and churches were left ahint. So fall the fteed wi' Mordyngton fled. Away to the fhore whare the loud fea roar. Terror and fright in his bofom bred. It gained the top o' a dizzy height, Sax hundred fadom abune the wave. Its noftrils threw forth a fulphury light. And Mordyngton heard the ocean rave, Ae moment and o'er the fcaur they went, Down, down, down, down to their watery grave. 76 Border Minjireljy, Down to the ribs amaift o' hell, Lower they fank Hke a plummet ftone ; Still down adown the charger fell, Whilft its rider he fhrieked wi' mony a groan. Still deeper and fleeter— they neared a light. Where a grifly monarch fat on a throne. He flopped their way — " Till the judgment day," The vifion faid wi' a voice o' dread, " Thou fhalt hunt the fox ouV fcaurs and rocks. Till earth and the feas away have fled." He hounded fome fiends as a troop ruflied in. And Mordyngton fpeeded awa' from the din. ^ # ^ ^ * His good roan reachit Mordyngton Hall Betimes next morning — wonder'd the groom To fee the merks o' a giant's hand Burnt on his hide wi' a fcorching thoom. The countra' they fearched ; 'twas vain, 1 ween, They never again faw Mordyngton. On Sabbath morns, mid the noife o' horns, O' fpedlral dogs and a ghaiftly train, Mordyngton s Chafe. 77 A fhadow purfuing— the tally ho viewing. Sweeping o'er lynn, fcaur, mountain, and plain, Mordyngton's fpirit you yet may fee. The fyrft in the chafe wi' fpur and rein. And they fing as they ride — " For the deeds o' our pride, Done in the days o' our wickednefs. By morning's light, thro' the mirk midnight, Oure the earth muft we wander, our fteedswe prefs; Away ! away ! for fuch finners no ftay. We ceafe not our hunt till the judgment day !" Lord Hepburn. THIS ballad is original, and was never in print be- fore. The hero, it may be furmifed, was of the Hepbiirns of Lammer Moor, one of that family having played a principal part in the flaughter of the unfortu- nate Patrick Home, Prior of Coddingham. It appears from his tomb, now almoft defaced, but which anciently adorned the chancel of Alnwick, that he was a com- panion of the Lion-hearted Richard, and " fought in the holy land ;" his tomb about twenty years ago was broken open, and the coffin contained nothing but duft and a few fragments of fhamoy leather, a piece of which the author obtained. Hepbron or Hepburn Hall is fituated to the fouth of Chillingham, and was once the noble feat of the family of that name. It was formerly a keep of con- fiderable ftrength ; and in the difturbed ftate of fociety at that time, it was not improbable that Hepburn would keep his revelry in the manner defcribed in the ballad. Lord Hepburn. 79 The caftle is now a rooflefs ruin, but yet of fuch con- fiderable ftrength as almoft to bid defiance to the waft- ing hand of time. The lower apartments are ufed for the purpofe of confining cattle in. I^he Jieer and the ftot with the hawjant face. that is, a black and white face. Burns in his Twa Dogs ufes the fame expreflion. His honeft Jonfie bawjant face Aye got him friends in ilka place. The word is peculiarly Scottifh, but yet in frequent ufe on the Border. They roufed the deer in Rofedean dell. Rofedean is fituated on the fouth fide of the village of Ilderton, and was fo fecluded with trees, as almoft formerly to be hidden from fight. The Ildertons are an ancient family, who have retained their pofiefiions in Rofedean fince the time of Edward I. On Rofe- dean Edge is a deep fquare entrenchment, which ap- pears to have been ufed for a Roman poft, being fo fituated that it could obferve the neighbouring Britifh ftrongholds, a circumftance which often determined the Romans in the choice of their military pofts. Onward they rode thro' Roddam woods. Roddam houfe is boldly fituated on an eminence 8o Bo?^de?^ M'mjl reify, that forms one of the fouthernmoft banks of a deep ro- mantic dell, finely clothed with wood. In days of yore it was a thick foreft, and the retreat of the Cheviot deer. By Langley Ford^ and Lilburn's Stream. Lilburn is pleafantly feated on a flight rifing ground a little north of the " hill burn." It is well fheltered with wood, and there is much of that wild and gloomy grandeur about it which charadlerifed the refidence of a Northumbrian chieftain. The ancient Tower of Lilburn is now in ruins. Langley Ford is a celebrated pafs at the foot of the Cheviots. By Cheviofs fatal chafe. The fcene of the battle of " Chevy Chafe," in the celebrated ballad of that name, is laid at the foot of this mountain ; and though there is nothing but ballad authority for it, it is highly probable that not only one, but twenty fuch battles might have happened be- tween two rival chieftains jealous of the invafion of their hunting ground. The limits of the two kingdoms were then unfettled, and even at this very day there are debatable lands about thefe hills, whofe proprietor- ihip is not definitively fettled. Through JVoolefs ftreets by Humble don. Wooler is a ftraggling little market town at the foot i Lord Hepburn. 8 1 of the Cheviots. There are two principal hills com- pofing the Cheviots, with about a dozen lefTer ones. The Cheviot was a fpot famous in Border warfare, as the fcene of many a bitter raid ; hence Lord Hepburn's queftion to the little page in the beginning of the bal- lad, as to whether Mojftroopers from Hawick town^ Harried his majiefs bowers? is not out of place, for perhaps no part of the Border was more diftinguifhed for the production of heroes of this clafs, than the fertile and now peaceful valley of the Cheviots. Humbledon or Homildon was the fcene of battle between the celebrated Harry Percy, furnamed Hotfpur, and Archibald Earl of Douglas, in which the latter was defeated. It is about a mile and a half from Wooler. To the north-eaft, a large ftone on the lower part of the field points out the place where Hotfpur's ftandard floated over the field of death. And away to Copeland's ancient halls. Copeland Caftle was anciently the refidence of that celebrated hero Sir John de Copeland, who took the King of Scotland prifoner at the battle of Neville's Cross, near Durham. It is fituated clofe to Millfield Plain, on the right bank of a tributary ftream that falls G 82 Border Minjl reify, into the Till a few miles below, and might have nurfed *' Copeland's bonny flower," the objedt of Bertram's predatory incurflon. For Mitforcfs chieftan hut this morn My majler's child hath taen. It would feem fuch a proceeding was common enough on the Border even a hundred years ago; the lafl; event of the kind that happened, was about fifty years fince, at Coldftream, on the Tweed. The famous Flora Macdonald's mother, intimately con- nedled with the life and fortunes of the unfortunate Prince Charlie, was adually carried oiF by her hufband, and then married. 'Then f aft he rode to Welldon Bridge. Weldon Bridge is nine miles from Morpeth, and about fix from Mitford, which flands on the left bank of the little ftream. Font, which, about an arrow's flight below, glides into the Wanfbeck ; a river which dis- charges itfelf into the fea, at a place called Cambois, nine miles to the eafliward. The tide flows to within four miles of Morpeth, and tradition reports that Michel Scott, whofe fame as a wizard is not confined to Scot- land, would have brought the tide up to the town had not the courage of the perfon failed upon whom the execution of the projeft depended. Lord Hepburn, 83 The Bertram mentioned in the ballad was one of the Bertrams of Bothal ; for a more general account of whom the reader is referred to Percy's Hermit of Warkworth. Mitford is ftill the property of Bertram Ofbaldiftone, and that it was a place of fome renown is apparent from the chronicles of one Reginald, a monk of Durham, who lived in the time of King Ste- phen. Bertram was a great friend and companion of the notorious Middleton, commonly known by the name of the " Bifhop ftealer," concerning whom a Angular tradition will be found in Surtees' " Hiftory of Durham." The punifhment of Bertram, at the hands of the bereaved and defpairing Lord Hepburn, is in perfedl keeping with the deeds of the early ages, and though a more civilized age may fhudder at the vindictive nature of the execution, it may perhaps be palliated by the rape and murder of the fair daughter of Copeland. Lord Hepburn. A METRICAL ROMANCE. ORD Hepburn he was a baron bold, And dwelt in Northumberland, Of yeomen brave full mony a wight Ranged up at his command. By Chillingham there won'd this chief. For a Queen he were a Peer, Ane knicht more pawky, doure, an fell. Ne'er chargit on a fpear. For he had fought 'neath the Lion herte, In the wars of the Holy Land, And won mair glory than of gow'd, Wi' the fweep o' his devilt brand. Lord Hepburn. 8 5 The fleer, and the ftot with the bawfant face. The wethers forbye the quey ; Are rowting where his caftle ftood. For a hind holds it in fee. In days lang fyne that keep o' ftrength. Rang wi' the voice o' mirth ; The yeomen birled the gude red wine. To fongs o' fame and worth. The Baron fat beneath the dais. And looked on filently : Each buirdly fwatcher toomed his cup. And leuched at the minftrelfy. ***** " Look out, look out, my gude warder ! What means that fuddent blaft ? From Bartifan fee what betides ; Mak bolt and ftaple fall." The watchman roufed up frae the fplore, Came ftoitin to the board ; " A little page frae Millfield Plain, Wad fpeak to Hepburn's Lord." 86 Border Minjlreljy, " Let down the brig and bring him in. He comes from my ancient fere ; What wind blaws Scotfmen o'er the march. He fends his flunkeys here ? " There cam' to the board a little page. And dofF't his bannett low. But in his eye grief tearful hung. And his face was all in woe. " Now why that look, thou pretty page ? What news o' Copeland's Lord ? Sit down and reft thy weary fhanks. And pledge the merry board." The page put by the cup o' wine. For his heart run o'er wi' grief; " It ill befits a page fuld drink, When fadly mourns his chief. " For I hae that upon my heart. And fomething at my tongue. Will mak' thee leave the feaft and fray, To redde my mafter's wrong." Lord Hepburn, 8 7 " What, are the Scots upon the grund. And have they reived thy towers ? Or mofltroopers from Hawick town. Harried thy Lady's bowers ?" " Lord Hepburn, na' thieving Scots are come, Na troopers taen our fteers ; But heavy tidings do I bring, Whilft loot I down thefe tears. " For Mitford's chieftan but this morn, My mailer's child has taen. And bore her aff upon his fteed, Frae the holms o' Millfield plain. " My mafter fends to thee, Sir Knight, To help him in his need ; To bring him back his winfome bairn. And gar the traytor bleed. " And thou fhalt have her for thy pains, A guerdon fair and free ; And we will fill thy yeomen's caps Wi' gow'd, gin need there be." 8 8 Border Mmfi reify. Then up and fpake the Crufader, " My merry men, follow me ; Let ne'er be faid that blude red gold Drew us to tak the lea. " But I will aid my ancient fere. And by my crofs I fwear. In faddle to ride wi' the bloodhounds bark, Wi' banner and wi' fpear. ** Never to draw at my bridle rein. Till I win his bonny bairn ; And Bertram ca' as a manfworn knicht. For having raught this harm. *' Up, up, and ride, my yeomen bold. And faddle me my lleed ; Lift up my father's ancient flag, To ferve auld Copeland's need. ** My morion and my coat of airn. My fhield and fword of might : Bertram fhall give account for this. And either fly — or fight. Lord Hepburn. 89 " That fayre maid is my trothed bride, Her love is pledged to me; Gin I not flay the faufe traytor, Chrift's grace ne'er let me fee." Up lap each yeoman at his word, With a whoop and Ihout of mirth j Each faddled then his neighing fteed, To bear him oure the earth. Lord Hepburn flood by his nick'rin fteed. And into harnefs fprung ; The yeoman gat to faddle tree, Whilft the hirfels lap and flung. Hepburn the reins he gathered up. And gave his fteed the fpur. And fhot like an arrow right oure the lea. As the grey gled fkims the air. And after him ryghte cheerfully. Each fpearman's beaftie loups ; Whilft bridle bit, wi' fhields and fpurs, Wi' the hoiftin rings and joups. 90 Border Minjireljy. And foremoft o' that little band. Lord Hepburn fpurred amain. His father's banner flutter'd wide, His plume waved o'er the plain. And now they turned from the beaten bent, Adown a beech maft glade. And pleafantly they rode along, In the greenwood's leafy fhade. For O 'tis merry in the woods. In the month o' cheerful June, Wi' fpears in reft, and a foe in the bus, When the wood merle fings in tune. They roufed the deer in Rofedean dell. With mony a whoop and fhout ; And loud their trumpets pealing blafts Brought Rofedean's chieftain out. Nae talk of lichtin down was there, The news abroad is told ; An they purfue the coward knicht, Whilft flefh and bones may hold. Lord Hepburn, 9 1 " Na Chriftian knicht that wadna fight," See Rofedean's band appears, All ready harnefled, and they mount Full faxteen Border fpears. Onward they rode thro' Roddam's woods. By Cheviot's fatal chafe. By Langley ford and Lilburn's towers. They held their rapid pace. And away to Copeland's auncient halls, They led their mounted powers ; Thro' Wooler's ftreets, by Humbledon, And on by Ewart's towers. " What news, what news ?" Lord Hepburn faid, As they neared Till's fullen tide ; " We'll harry the halls of Mitford yet," Young Hetton o' Chatton cried. '* A traytor faufe and bold is he. His knightly worth to ftain ; Ere finks the moon wefe warm his hands, By the flafh o' his own flame." 9 2 Border Minjlreljy. Quo' Hepburn, " Tho' were he in numbers backed, By the men of Wanfbeck dale. So ftrong our arm we'll ftrew his might. Like fnow in the winter's gale." " But ftay," cried Copeland ; " light you down. And tafte a ftoup o' wine, Were but my daughter here to fill, I'd give my lands and kine." * # « « # " This early morn yon robber loon, Like eagle on a dove, Pouncet upon my fair dochter, For his unhallowed love. * * . * * # " Sound boot and faddle to refcue her," He wrung old Copeland's hand, So ftrong the grip o' his iron gluve. Few could that grafp withftand. Lord Hepburn. 93 He mought not fpeak, fo fore his heart. Nor take a long adieu ; But he waved his hand to the aged chief. And o'er Millfield plain he flew. Black Ringan was the beft of fteeds That e'er bore knight in mail ; But Hepburn put him to his fpeed, As he fpurred o'er hill and dale. So fail he fpurred, fo fall he rade, By Till and Breamilh wave ; A moment mought he never ftop His horfe's fides to lave. On by Pow Burn, thro' Glanton's town. By ftraggling Whittinghame, By bridge of Rofs, o'er ftream and hill. By more than I could name. He flacked his pace on Rimfide fell Till he came to Framlington, Then fafl: he rode to Welldon Bridge. And word faid never one. 94 Border Minjl reify. Fytte Second. "XT EVER a man who walketh well ^ ^ Upon a crooked path. But it fhall hap in courfe of time, A ftumbling ftep he hath. Never a day, how fair the morn. In golden beauty 'gins to peer ; But clouds will come and rain will fall, No matter the feafon of the year. Never a joy but had a grief. Never a young rofe 'gan to blow. But had a canker at the heart, A lover a crofs, and hope alfo. The fentry looked from Mitford tower. Along the wood, up to the fky ; But he fat him down, in drowfy ftate. For the flumber weighed upon his eye. Lord Hepburn, 95 He heard a tramp of many feet, A murmur'd hum frae armed men ; He feized his fpear and ftarted up. And careful glowr'd down the glen. The Wanfbeck rufhed with a fullen fough Over its deep and ftony bed. Font's little ftream o'er pebbles brawled, — And he Ihut his eyes, and funk his head : He heard the neigh o' a battle fteed. And he looked along from the keep ; He faw a raven and corby crow. Tearing the carcafe of a fheep. He heard the check of a tough crofs bow. And a fyflel thro' the air ; An arrow it pierced him thro' the paps, And he word fpake never mair. All was filent in bower and room. Where Copeland's daughter wept ; All was ftill where Bertram's lord Beiide the maiden flept. 96 Border Mi7ijlrelfy. Long did fhe weep, long did fhe wail, Long did fhe fob and figh, When the fmoke rolled up from the hall below, And the red flame leapt on high. Up ftarted the guilty Bertram then, In a fwither from his fleep ; His foemen's fhouts rang in his ears : They had fired his towers and keep. His yeomen rufhed unto the wall. And kept their foes at bay. And plied the fpear and faulchion keen. Till the flames drove them away. Hepburn he dealt a giant's blow, With his axe on gate and door ; But his craven foe on his courfer fled. With the lady him before. Away, away down the glen they fwept. Like a whirliwind they pafl: ; With a wild " hallo," his foemen flew. And gained on Bertram fafl;. Lord Hepburn. 97 The fteed was good Sir Bertram rode. But the lady fhe crippled his pace ; Black Ringan crept the nearer him And ftretched out in the race. The hinds of Longhirft grange awoke, And looked towards Morpeth town ; When a knight with a lady on his feele. Like the wind came rufhing down. Falfe Bertram he looked at Bothal towers, As his fteed ftrained o'er the lea ; " Were I but there, I wad na care For the beft that follow me." What beft to do, where beft to go ? Thefe thoughts ran thro' his mind ; With a wild " halloo" his deadly foe, A furlong rode behind. ^' Lady, yeftreen I ftole thee from Thy father's aged arms. Lord Hepburn ftiall never call thee his. Or clafp thy peerlefs charms. H 98 Border Minjireljy. '' My foes will tire my bonny mare. That flackens in her pace. There is but this to refcue me. And (lay them in the race." He drew his dagger from his girdle. And pierced her breaft of fnow ; The blood ran trickling from the feele. For a furlong's fpace or moe. He loofed his hold, and the maiden fell Withouten gafp or found. With one fad look, like a light fnow flake She fettled on the ground. Sir Bertram's fteed fprung freflier on. The lighter for the load ; " Some of thofe knights will flay their courfe For yon that's in their road." Lord Hepburn he faw the caitiff ftrike. With a wild and burfting eye. At fight of her blood, he writhed in his feat Like a man in agony. Lord Hepburn. 99 He flopped not in the headlong chafe. For a moment he bowed his head. And he hfted his horfe, left its armed hoofs Should bruife the form of the dead. Some ftopt to pick the maiden up, Some followed ftern Hepburn's lord ; But few held out that headlong pace When they came to Ulgham ford. The warder on Widdrington's Caftle, Much wondered at the fight. To fee Sir Bertram unmailed and nak'd, Rufh paft with arrow flight. Rofedean drew up his panting fteed. And its bridle did he flack ; Lord Hepburn the only one I ween That followed Sir Bertram's track. His teeth were clenched, his eyes were fet. Like a man in a dreadful ftrife ; He rode for revenge, whilft Sir Bertram fled For fafety and for life. lOO Border Mmftreljy. Warkworth's Lord was taking the air By Coquets Banks of green. When his hawks fhrieked out, and his hounds did yelp. As frightened they had been. Bareheaded a chief came rufhing down. And he wav't a bloody knife. While after him there rode a knight With his fpear couched for the ftrife. " So ho, fo ho. Sir Bertram bold. Light down from off your feat. And pledge me in a cup of wine ; Your face is all in heat." But never ftayed Sir Bertram bold. But urged his failing beaft To win the fhore, where his trim fea boat. Might bear him to the Eaft. His poor jade ftaggered to and fro. With his knife he drew its blude. And prick'd it on — black RIngan ran In courage unfubdued. Lord Hepburn, loi Lord Hepburn he rode him fairly down, As his charger wat his feet, And with one thruft of his heavy fpear He caft him out oure his feat. Sir Bertram ftruggled fearfully. But faint was his breath and limb ; When his foeman ftern his arms did bind. For the ftrength was gone from him. Lord Hepburn his eye flafh'd fparks of fire, But never a word he faid ; Grimly he looked on his enemy. Then drew his battle blade. His face was as dark as the lift in Yule, And his ftony brow he kept ; Tho' after a time he bowed his head. And fyne a wee he wept. Then with a voice, which trembled with A hufky inward throe. Quo he, " That hand of thine, this morn Hath ftruck a daftard's blow. I02 Border Minjl reify. *' Did ever knight or warrior A woman flay in ftrife ? Wae worth the man who ftruck a maid I meant to make my wife." " But like a grim wolf on a fauld My wee pet ravifhing ; And for that deed I mean to hack Thy right hand from its limb." His trenchant weapon flafhed thro' air. And Bertram's right hand lopped off; He held it up intill his face. And maddened him wi' bitter fcofF. " A ftone or a ftake, and a gibbett I'll make For a caitiff vile as thou ; Here fhalt thou ftand upon the fand Till the waters over thee flow." He bound Sir Bertram 'till his fpear. Then thruft it in the ground ; The rifing waves wi' fnowy faem Stole filently around. Lord Hepburn, 103 Lord Hepburn mounted his black fteed. And fpurrit It full weel ; — Around the fpear Sir Bertram twined. Like an ether or an eel : The fea flowed to Sir Bertram's waift. And oh, he fhrieked fo fore ; And every wafh of the poppling wave. His gafping lip cam' o'er. Three times before the flood tide's height, A fhriek o' agony was heard. In Amble Grange, in Felton huts. And the peafants o' Warkworth with fright were feared. * The waves ebbed paft lone Coquets Ifle, The fun o'er Cheviot glory flung, When faftened to Lord Hepburn's fpear, The body of Sir Bertram hung. Sir Gillum of Mydeltoun. THIS is a tradition, common amongft the fifhermen of Holy liland and the Main, which I have woven into a ballad. The feat of Sir Gillum is not original, fome Irifh Knight on the coaft of Ireland having per- formed the fame adlion ; the prophecy and the refults being the fame. Who Sir Gillum of Middelton was, I am at a lofs to difcover. Romero, who is introduced as King of the Holy Ifle, was governor thereof in the time of Edward the Third ; he was afterwards governor of Coldingham, where he was furprifed with his com- panions, and brutally murdered by a marauding party of Scots. He was given to piratical expeditions on his own account, and inherited his plundering propenfities from his forefathers, who no doubt had often launched their fea bark to the infpiring ftrains of the Scalds and Minnefingers. Bede calls Lindisfarn a Semi Ifland, and as he juftly obferves, twice a continent in one day ; for at the Sir Gillum of Mydeltoun. 105 flowing of the tide it is encompafled by water, and at the ebb there is an almoft dry paiTage both for horfes and carriages to and from the main land ; from which if meafured in a ftraight line it is diftant two miles eaftward ; but on account of feveral quickfands, paf- fengers are obliged to make fo many detours that the diftance is almoft doubled. The water over thefe flats at fpring tide is only feven feet. At the north-weft part of the ifland, a tongue of land runs into the fea about a mile in length. At the fouthernmoft point is a rock of a conical figure, whereon is the Baron's " Caftle of red rock ftone," almoft perpendicular, fixty feet in height, and crowned by a fmall fortrefs. There are four caves or coves as they are called, to the north- north-eaft of the ifland, and in one of thefe Sir Gillum Stabled his dappled fieed In a cave on the eaftern JJiore. The largeft of thefe caves is upwards of fifty feet long, with an entrance juft large enough to admit a man. The principal feature of any intereft on this ifland is its venerable abbey now in utter ruins. " The abbey," fays Pennant, " retayns at this day one Angular beauty; the tower has not formed a lantern, as in other cathedrals : but from the angles, arches fpring, crofting each other diagonally to form a canopy roof." One of thefe arches yet remains un- io6 Border Minjireljy. loaded with any fuperftrudure, fupported by the fouth- eaft and north-eaft pillars, and ornamented with zigzag moulding : a " granite rainbow," as a gentleman termed it. The whole abbey is compofed of a foft red free- ftone, and renders the afpeft of the place dark and forbidding. " In Saxon Jlrength that abbey frowned." Marmion. The rock on which the caftle of " red rock ftone " ftands, is inacceffible fave only by a winding path, belting the rock on the fouthern fide. A fortrefs in this fituation, before the ufe of gunpowder, muft have been impregnable ; the caftle being above any engine's reach, and the rocks too high to be fcaled. A fmall detachment was kept here during the war, but was difcontinued In 1 8 1 9. Sir Gillum of Mydeltoun. HEN days are long and nights are fliort. And the iky is bright and fheen, And merrily fing the cufhat and merle From out the leavis fo green. When trouts leap at a Summer fly. And hay be newly mawn. To fee his luve in the Holy Ifle, Gaed Gillum of Mydeltoun. He cantered over the Fenham flats. When the tide was back the while, Which once a day doth change that fpot From Continent to Ifle. io8 Border Minjlreljy. The quickfands lurk by Manuel's head, And deep is Waren's Bay ; Yet gallantly with eident hand Sir Gillum rode on his way. Romero's daughter looked from her bower Over the wave-ribbed fand. And fhe fpied Sir Gillum, her own true knight, Midway the ifle and the land. She donned her kirtle o' Lincoln's green. Which was of the filk fo fair, And fhe went forth to the eaftern fhore, To tafte the caller air. Sir Gillum he ftabled his dapple fteed In a cave on the eaftern fhore ; Its roof and fides were of the rock, And the fand drift was its door. Romero is proud, and is almoft King, Of Farn and the Holy Ifle ; No man dare fay to this Baron, " nay," Yet hope to live the while. Sir G ilium of Mydeltoun. 109 Romero was drinking at the board. In his caftle of red rock ftone, A youth cam' in, and before his ftool He laighly louted down. " Thy dochter walks on the eaftern fhore With Gillum of Mydeltoun ; " The Sea King wi' gobelet in his hand. He ftrake the youth on the croun. " Thou lieft, thou churlifh loon," he cried, " With Gillum of Mydeltoun ! " And he churned his teeth like a boar in rage. And girned at the trembling loun. " Gillum he flew my fifter's fonne Laft Whitfun tryft was a year ; His mither fall weep his lofs the night Were he a Soldan's peer. " Bring me a rope, and an oaken ftaiF, And I will bind him faft ; Short be his fhrift, for he fhall fwing From yonder tall top maft." no Border Minjl reify. The mother wept for her dochter's fame, That ever fhe gave her birth ; Quo' he, " Our abbey has dungeons enow To hide her fhame from earth." He girded his fword unto his thigh, A fting that oft had ftang ; And he's away wi' henchman an' rope Mydeltoun's heir to hang. Thefe yonge luvers walkit on the fea fliore, The Baron he gnawed at his thoomb ; O they were twa pullets in gleefome play. When the fox crawls thro' the broom. Gillum he kifTed fayre Annie's cheek. As pleafantly did they chat ; The Baron he mutter't between his teeth, " I'll notch thy face for that." He waited untill the rifing tide Covered the yellow fand ; Then rofe he up from the waving bent With his faulchion in his hand. Sir G ilium of Mydeltoun. Ill " I will not leave thee, fayre Annie, but kifTe Thy fweete lips o'er and o'er ; An armful of rufhes fhall be my bed, In my fteed's cave on the fhore." "Tv/ere better thou goeft," fayre Annie fhe cried, *' For a fwieven I had of thee ; That a ratton it louped into my neck. And rugget me grievoufly." Sir Gillum he heard a voice loud cry, " Bold traytor, turn and ftand !" And he faw the Baron upon the bent, Wi' his faulchion in his hand. " Yield thee or fight thee, bold traytor. My top maft to fwing doun ; " " I will do neither, an I wifTe," Quoth Gillum of Mydeltoun, " Thou art my Annie's father," he faid, " Albeit an enemy ; I will not battle againft thy hand. For the love 'tween Annie and me." 112 Border Minjlreljy. The Baron and henchman clofed on him, When Sir Gillum he drewe his blade ; And whiftled the fword around his head, As ftern defence he made. He clove the henchman to the teeth Wi' a downright wicked blow ; Parted his head, as the hal flings fell Upon his fhoulders low. He threw the Baron a heavy fall. And bore feyre Annie away, Untill he gained the eafliern neuk, And heard his charger neigh. He placed fair Annie in faddle feat ; And then fprung up afore. And plunged his gude fl:eed in " the fea," And fwam for Fenham fhore. " A purfe of gold for a coble boat. To catch yon curfed thief; A beggarly Scot to be her mate. Good lord, I had as lief." — Sir G ilium of Mydeltoun. 113 Four fifhermen fprang to their boat. Four fifhers I trow were they ; Wi' a heave and fhout they ran her out. And their boat launched in the fea. Three times the furging waters wafhed Fair Annie from her place. And thrice Sir Gillum held her faft, Within his clofe embrace. Three miles and more is Fenham fhore Unto the Holy Land ; And like a fwan, the fteed it fwam, Till he reached the yellow fand. The fteed it fwam, and the coble fhot, Whilft the fifhers rax'd at the oar. Was ne'er fuch a race, the fteed I fay Firft landed at Fenham ftiore. * As Gillum rode up Chefter Hill, He met a woman old ; I 114 Border Minjl reify. She craved him there to give her alms, For in footh her limbs were cold. He drew a noble from his purfe, And gave it yon eldern dame ; " Pray for me, gude wife," he faid, " for the road Is not oft trod I came." She gave an eildricht laugh at the gold : " Thy fortune I will prie, Not every knight fo gallant and brave Doth give his gold fo free." , She told him then fome proven truths. That long ago had paft ; " The bonny beaft you ride upon Shall be your death at laft." He patted the neck of his courfer fleet, " Good mother, you do but jeft ; For Rupert is gentle, fwift, and good. As a child at a nourice breaft ! " '■'■ The wierd is written in heaven," fhe faid, " And fcartit in hell below ; Sir Gillmn of Mydeltoiin. 115 Rupert will lay thee on thy bier In mickle dool and woe." " Alas and well a day !" he cried, " That ever it fhould fo fall ; That I muft flay the nobleft fteed That was ever ftabled in ftall." He rode fleete Rupert down to the Tands, For his herte was fad with woe ; The tears were in Sir Gillum's eyes, For he loved that courfer foe. Slowly Sir G ilium he lighted doun. Took off the faddle and reins ; Quo' he, " I am about to make Small guerdon for thy pains." He drew his fword fo fharp and bright. And turned away his eye. For his heart was foft, that he might not fee That peerlefs charger die. But love o' life will turn the fcale. In man or beaft at need ; 1 1 6 Border Minflreljy, Sir Gillum jaloufed the fafer way. Was e'en to kill his fteed. He ftruck fleete Rupert aneath the leg, The blood fpun frae the wound. Till the noble charger moaned in pain. And fo fell on the ground. He turned his eye to Sir Gillum's face. And faid, but with nae tongue, " Did I carry thee thro' the rufhing tide For thee to do this wrong ? " # Sir Gillum is happy, Sir Gillum is proud. For a mother is Annie his bride ; And wi' a frien' in the fweet fpring time. He walkit forth in his pride. He pafTed where the bones o' his proud charger Were bleaching in the wind ; And Sir Gillum he faid, ^' A better fteed In Englonde thou couldft not find. Sir G ilium of Mydeltoun. 117 " Than was the fleete one that lieth here ; The tod and the corby crow Have fed upon his peerlefs Hmbs, And his flelh and blood alfo. " 'Twas told me once that my fleete Rupert," He faid in laughing mood, " Should be my death ; fo I flew the flieede. That my life fliould fl;ill be good." He carelefs kicked his horfe's head. Whitening in fun an' the rain. When a fplinter o' bone flirake into his foot, And caufed him mickle pain. The leech he cannot cure that wound. And ftill it mortifyes ; In fpite of flcill, or of earthly will. Sir Gillum of Mydeltoun dies. ** A foolifli wierd has proven ryghte: Farewell, my fayre Annie, For the faithful fteed I flew in my need, Is now avenged on me. 1 1 8 Border Mi7ijlreljy. " Where Rupert's bones lie in the mift, O Annie, lay my corfe ; And let that knight take moft: delight. To cherifh the fteed that has borne him in fyghte. And never flay his Horfe." Lady Nell. This is merely an Englifh veriion of the beautiful Scotch Ballad, " Bonny Lady Anne," which I fub- join to enable the reader to form his own judgment of their refpeflive merits. HERE'S honey on my lady's lips. And jewels 'mongft her hair ; A veil of fendal fhrouds her breafts, What eye would wanton there ? What hand dare touch her lily arm ? Her waift what lover mell ? What mouth dare kifs the cherry lips Of bonny Lady Nell ? She kifTes the leaves of the red red rofe. Wet with the dew o' the South ; I 2 o Border Minjireljy. But no Baron's lips, or yeoman's breath Muft touch her pretty mouth. A belt of pearls, with a brooch of gold, Her waift becomes full well. For fhe's a wife fit for a king. The peerlefs Lady Nell. Her bower is fcented with flowers fweet. The daintieft earth e'er fed ; And they look on her cheek, in rivalry. And with fhame they hang their head : Her ringlets fall from her queenlike brow. And her voice is a filver bell. And her looks with grace and beauty beam. The lovely Lady Nell. The cloud of morning hath a bloom, A plumlike, cherry flreak ; And there's its marrow to be feen Upon my fweet love's cheek ; Her eye brow is an arch of love. And her eye becomes it well ; The breath of May comes from her mouth. My bonnie Lady Nell. Lady Nell, 121 I gaze with joy as fhe walks along. There's grace in this ftately dame ; But to be the bride of a wand'ring man, 'Twould ftain her high born name. I dare not tell her of my love. My fortune is fo fell ; But I eye her afar, and I kifs the flowers Touched by my peerlefs Nell. I am but her page : and with high difdain She'd turn her eyes from me j I have a mother and fifters twain, I give them all my fee ; She comes and goes like a thing of light. Her charms no lips can tell ; But my bleffing and love, I know not which. Fall on my Lady Nell. were I a knight of fome degree. With a fquire at my command, 1 might bow down, and feek to win Her taper lily hand. I cannot eat, I lothe my meat. My bofom is a hell ; Still maun I live, and love, and grieve, P'or bonny Lady Nell. Bonny Lady Anne. HERE'S kames of hinny atween my luve's lips, And gowd amang her hair. Her breafts are lapt in a holie veil, Nae mortal e'en keek there ; What lips daur kifs, or what hands dare touch. Or what arm o' luve dare fpan The hinny lips, the creamy loof. Or the waift o' Lady Anne ? She kiffes the lips o' the bonney red rofe, Wat wi' the blobs o' dew ; But nae gentle lip, nor nae Temple lip Maun touch her lady mou ; But a broidered belt wi' a buckle o' gowd. Her jimpy waift maun fpan, O {he's an armfu' fit for heaven. My bonny Lady Anne. Bonny Lady Anne, 123 Her bower cafement is latticed wi' flowers, Tied up wi' filler thread. And comely fits fhe in the midft Men's langin e'en to feed ; She waves the ringlets frae her cheek Wi' her milky, milky han'. And her every look beams wi' grace divine. My bonny I.ady Anne. The morning cloud is taflell'd wi' gowd Like my luve's broidered cap. And on the mantle, which my luve wears, Is mony a gowden drap : Her bonny e'ebrows a holy arch. Call: by nae earthly han' And the breath o' heaven's atween the lips O' my bonnie Lady Anne. I wondering gaze on her ftately fleps As I beet a hopelefs flame. To my luve, alas ! flie manna fl:oop. It wad fyle her honoured name ; My e'en are bauld they dwall on a place, Where I darna mint my han' ; 124 Border Minjlrelfy. But I water, and tend, and kifs the flowers, O' my bonnie Lady Anne. I am but her father's gardener lad, And poor, poor is my fa'. My auld mither gets my wee wee fee, Wi' fatherlefs bairnies twa. My lady comes, my lady goes, Wi' a fu' and kindly han', O their bleflings maun mix wi' my love. And fa' on Lady Anne. Hedgely Moor. THE circumftances on which this ballad is founded are fimply thefe : In 1463, Sir Ralph Percy, with the Lords Hungerford and Rofs, encountered the Yorkifts under the banners of Lord Montacute on Hedgely Moor. Although the fortune of the day was againft the Lancaftrians, and fatal to the noble Percy and his illuftrious band of Northumbrians, yet his honour and theirs was untarniihed ; for in the true fpirit of their chivalric virtue, which they devotedly cherifhed, each preferred a death couch on Hedgely Moor, " with his back to the earth and his feet to the foe," to a daftardly and ignoble flight. The white rofe waves be north the Tyne. York's ftandardwas decorated with a white rofe, whilfl: that of Henry's bore a red rofe ; after the defeat of the Lancaftrian party, it became a proverbial faying in 126 Border Mi7tjireljy. the North, " That the white rofe had put down the red." — HaWs notes on Widdrington. Roufe up and marchy my merry men. In the ftruggles and contentions between the Houfes of York and Lancafter, the Earl of Northumberland joined the party of King Henry ; and through his af- fiftance Queen Margaret was enabled to meet the Duke of York in the field, refcue her captive hufband, and ultimately to vanquifh her enemy at the battle of Wake- field Green on the 30th 06lober, where both the Duke and his fecond fon, young Rutland, were flain. The young Duke of York, however, having been pro- claimed in London under the title of King Edward the IV. left that city on the 12th of March, 148 1, at the head of a powerful and well appointed army, and dire6led his courfe northward. Sir Ralph de Percy, who bears a confpicuous part in this ballad, was the fourth fon of the fecond Earl of Northumberland, and grandfon to the immortal Hotfpur. The morning air the mifi had chafed From doun Ros Cajlle's lofty hill. On a lofty eminence, at the head of Chillingham Park, is a circular double entrenchment, called Ros Caftle. Antiquaries have pronounced it a fort of the ancient Britons. The word Ros in the Celtic language figni- fies a promontory. Hedgely Moor. 127 Where ftr ay the bulls by Chillingham. The caftle of Chillingham is deeply embofomed amidft lofty fine woods ; it is built in the Elizabethan ftyle, and is now the feat of Earl Tankerville. O'er Hepburn's oaks and darkfome tower. See the ballad of " Lord Hepburn." Dun Bewick heard the lark's Jhrill call. There was formerly an old tower here, but all traces of it are now loft ; though within the recolledion of perfons living, vaults and part of the walls were ftand- ing. Bewick Caftle was in all probability the hold of fome border freebooter of that name. Harehope now /hewed his heath-clad brow. A lofty eminence in a line with Bewick Hill. And Eglingham her wild woods Jliook. An ancient village ; the feat and manor of the Ogles, Grim Beanly Jmiled. Beanley lies to the fouth of the river Beamifti or Till ; it was the barony of the Earls of Dunbar, the defcendants of Cofpatrick. The expatriated Earl of Northumberland was on the fervice of in-borough and out-borough between England and Scotland, that 12 8 Border Minjireljy. is, he was appointed to obferve the " egrefs and in- grefs " of thofe who travelled between the two king- doms. The eftate of Beanly was granted for ever by- King Edward III. to Henry Percy in 1334, and is ftill in the pofTeflion of Henry Percy. and Crawley frown' d From cliff and Jcaur with proudfu' look. Crawley was a Roman ftation ; the prefent rooflefs tower is of a comparatively modern date, and may have formed one of the chain of fortrefles built acrofs the country, for its protedion againft the Scots. But Alnwick's towers and Percy s hold Are harried by his mortal foe. After the battle of Towton, Queen Margaret went over to France to folicit the aid of Louis XI. who fupplied her with a fmall force, which was entrufted to the command of Peter de Breze, an experienced and able warrior. After encountering innumerable dif- ficulties, de Breze landed on the coaft of Northumber- land, and was befieged in Alnwick Caftle by Lord Haftings, Sir John Howard, and Sir Ralph de Grey. Margaret being anxious to relieve the garrifon, united to her intereft the Earl of Angus, and fuddenly ad- vancing to Alnwick, threatened an attack upon the befieging army ; the latter immediately prepared to repel the onfet, and in the confufion Angus feledted a Hedgely Moor. 129 party of his ftouteft horfe, and, conveying^ them to the caftle gate, a fervice the Borderers were well calculated to perform, the brave de Breze fallied out with his garrifon, and every foldier mounting behind a trooper, the whole got fafely away, and the caftle was taken pofteflion of by the foe. Sir A. Gely, either through treachery or want of provifions, fhortly after furrendered the caftle to the Queen's forces ; but Edward of York approaching with a powerful army, ftie was compelled to retreat north- ward, leaving but a flender garrifon in Alnwick Caf- tle. Edward, finding no enemy in the field, laid fiege to the caftles of Alnwick, Dunftanborough, and Bam- borough. On Chriftmas Eve, 1462, Bamborough furrendered, and its brave defenders, the Duke of Somerfet and Sir Ralph de Percy were received into favour : three days after Dunftanborough yielded. /// may my father s Jon now brook. The bold and indefatigable Queen was yet unfubdued, and, having cultivated the friendfliip of the Northern Chieftains, ftie again entered Northumberland. Sir Ralph de Grey having changed his politics, furprifed Alnwick Caftle and Bamborough, and held them for the Queen. The Duke of Somerfet and Sir Ralph de Percy looked upon thefe preludes as fuccefsful omens, K 130 Border Minjl reify, and, deferting the proud and imperious Edward, joined Queen Margaret once more. Along the ridge of JVooperton. Wooperton is fituated between Glanton and Wooler, and forms the high ground of Hedgely Moor ; from its rifing fo fuddenly from the plain, the archers might, with more precilion, affail the coming foe. I'he eafiern warden eke was he. And hoafied Neville's noble name. Edward of York appointed Sir John de Neville Lord Montacute (a brave and vigilant leader) to be warden of the eaftern marches. I^he Border ■prickers Jhew their Jkill. The Borderers occafionally afted as light cavalry, rid- ing horfes of fmall fize, but of extraordinary activity and ftrength ; they could, in cafes of emergency, colledl a body of horfe to the amount of a thoufand or more. Hungerford and Rojs. Thefe two noblemen, the companions in arms of the undaunted Percy, fled at the onfet of the battle, and left him, with his brave Northumbrians, to be cut to pieces by the overwhelming forces of the eaftern war- den. Hedge ly Moor, 131 But lightly from the ground he/prung Full thirty feet and moe. At a fhort diftance from the old Crofs are two ftones, funk into the ground twelve yards apart, called by the country people " Percy's Leap." Tradition fays, that Sir Ralph de Percy, on receiving his death wound, fprung the diftance marked out by thofe ftones. Fvefaved the bird within my hreafl. After the ignominious flight of his allies, Percy and his faithful followers fuftained the conteft, but at length were overcome by numbers ; the Chieftain and his gallant Northumbrians, difdaining to quit the field of battle, were ftain almoft to a man, bravely fighting for Henry VI. whofe caufe they had efpoufed. Percy, when dying, faid, that " he had faved the bird in his bofom," meaning that he had kept his oath to Henry, and preferved his allegiance. The white roje dyed its leaves in blood. The Crofs, which is ereded to commemorate this battle, confifts of a ftone pillar fixed as a pedeftal, with the Percy and Lucy arms cut upon it in relief. Tra- dition reports, this crofs marks the fpot where Sir Ralph de Percy fell ; at all events, it points out the field of battle, and preferves the memory of the gallant 132 Border Minjlreljy. Percy and his followers. It was much dilapidated, and the prefent Duke of Northumberland has caufed it to be repaired, and furrounded with an iron railing. It ftands in a field which formed a portion of Hedgely Moor, fixty paces eaft of the road from Morpeth to Wooler. The Battle of Hedgely Moor. HE White Rofe waves be north the Tyne, On Yorkis creft, and lo, its thorn. Has made Northumbria's gallant hearts, Lament the day or they were born. Sir Ralph de Percy's trumpets rang. To gather yeomen from the Glen, And Simonfide has echoed back ; "Roufe up, and march, my merry men." " No longer now my yeomen bold," Sir Percy faid, " muft we bide here ; Since England's Red Rofe droops her head. When is her haughty rival near." 134 Border Minjlreljy. To morrow's fun may wiftfu' fhoot On mony fhields and border creft ; And mony flags may flutter 'boon The heath whare lies a knight at refl:. The morning air the mifl: had chafed From doun Ros Cafl:le's lofty hill ; The vapours rolled alang the Glen, And clothed the banks o' fullen Till. Where fl;ray the bulls by Chillingham, Where Wooler water rowls its tide. Where Glen and College to the Till, The Till to Tweed, does fwiftly glide. O'er Hepbron's oaks, and darkfome tower. Morn threw her weeds o' foggy gray ; Dun Bewick heard the lark's flirill call. That ufliered in the fatal day. Harehope now fliew'd his heath clad brow. And Eglingham her wild woods fliook. Grim Beanly fmiled, and Crawley frown'd. From clifi^ and fcaur with proudfu' look. Battle of Hedgely Moor, 135 The fun fhines coldly in the lift. To gild Aln's ftream it hath no power, Its rays, they winna warm the ground. Or tinge the bent on Hedgely Moor. It fhall be tinged with other hue. It fhall be warm't with other heat. The fetting fun that heath fhall view. Changed to the warrior's winding fheet. The mavis, that now fings fae fweet. Ere night fhall chaunt a deathfu' fong ; O'er Chieftains fliffened in their clay. And flrew'd the bluidy broom among. Inftead o' heath bells clad in dew. Or bonny knowes to pleafe the eye, The moon fhall fhed a ghaiflly light, Whare bleeding warriors filent lie. There fhall be heard the dying curfe O' fell revenge, o' muttered prayer. And maidens fobbing all around. While fearch they for fome lover there. J 3 6 Border Minjlrelfy. And Percy's Crofs o' fculptured ftone. That points this feud of eldern day. Shall fade, for time with conftant pace Doth bring with it its own decay. The trumpets fang in waefu' breath. Their echoes fkud upon the gale. From lofty Cheviot's mountain fide. To the green flopes of Teviotdale. But Alnwick's towers, and Percy's hold. Are harried by his mortal foe ; And Ida feels the iron hand. Which lays bauld Dunftan's turretts low. " Fierce Greyftock," quoth the Percy then, " Now waftes my father's ancient hall, Wi' mony fouthrons of renown, Whofe martial names I canna' call. " De Breze's fuccours come not up, Alone I (land upon the lea ; And here maun I in fhame retreat. The bracken bufh to fhelter me. Battle of Hedgely Moor, 137 " 111 may my father's fon now brook Such fhame, it fills my e'en with tears ; Thus forced to loiter north the Tweed, And tak' up wi' the Scottifh fpears. " Befhrew my heart, I'll fouthward go. For here no longer may I ftay ; Yon caterans' paftime fhall be fhort, Tho' Alnwick's towers be their prey." Each archer clafped his Baldrick on. New ftrung his bow, new whet his fword. And Scotland's Chiefs have joined the war. That good Kynge Henry be reftored. Queen Margaret was a woman bold. Her troops were all in fteel arrayed ; Her ftandard flew amid the van, Whare the Red Rofe its leaves difplay'd. Earl Percy and his men were there. The Widdringtons, a gallant few ; Keen hunters on the hill and plain. For deftly could they bend the yew. 138 Border Minjlrelfy. Lords Rofs, and Hungerford, and Carr, All Chieftains of a mounted band. With Englifh bill and Scottifh fpear. Were marfhall'd 'neath their high command. Along the ridge of Wooperton Sir Percy plac'd his archers light ; The Yorkifts they muft breaft the hill. Clad in their heavy mail to fight. Lord Montacute's White bannered Rofe Had crofs the ftreams of fullen Till, Ah ! gentle river, didft thou fpare So fell a fiend that came to kill. The eaftern warden eke was he. And boafted Neville's noble name : And Howards, and Bracys, Cuthberts and Johnfons To combat all at Hedgely came. With them five hundred horfemen rode. In martial pomp and gliftering mail ; The yird it fhook beneath their hoofs. Their trumpets flourifhed on the gale. Battle of Hedgely Moor. 139 Next came his archers, good and true. Stern men from Tees and Weardale fide. And Border prickers and fpearmen. And Hobiler's with them did ride. And Reivers wild, who fpoil do love, A motley, mingled roving train ; Mofs troopers frae' the Scottifh march. Who only fought for ruth and gain. Now Montacute has taen his ground. His bannered White Rofe fluttered wide ; His trumpets with a martial din, Sir Percy's prowefs loud defied. Short fpace had paft, when down the hill, Upon a fleet and gallant grey. Sir Percy fpurred with right good will. And thus unto his men did fay : " Now forward for the red, red Rofe, My merry archers, take good aim ; " The bowfl:rings twanged, as the arrowed fliower. Swept glancing o'er the field o' fame. 140 Border Minjlreljy. Far down the hill the arrows flew, Like a cloud of driving hail, And many a knight at ftirrup fwung, Girt in his heavy mail. Three times before that feathered flight The horfemen backward drew ; They ftrove in vain to top the hill, Whilfl: the archers bent the yew. " Bring up the fpearmen," Neville cried, And he curfed the broken ground ; " Wheel the light troops ayont the hill, And Percy's band furround." Wi' fl:eady fl:ep the fpearmen came, The Border prickers fhewed their flcill. And dafli'd the archers' rear upon. When they had crept behint the hill. The Lancafliers their bows flang by, With fwords they fiercely ran. On Neville's fpearmen did they fall, And charg't them in the van. Battle of Hedge ly Moor. 141 The men of Tees and Wear were good, As e'er loot arrow fly ; They wheeled in line, and met the charge. Of foemen valiantly. The fpears were caft afide in wrath, They trampled on the ufelefs bow, And to it hand to hand they went, 'Twas thruft for thruft, and blow for blow. Sir Percy fhouted '^ Hungerford, And Rofs, upon the Yorkift rank ; " But the coward loons they took to flight. And galloped o'er the northern bank. The warden charged the Lancafters, Their fhafts were fped in fight fae vayn, And Neville's fpears are bearing down Sir Percy and his gallant train. No arrows hurtled thro' the air. And ufelefs lay the twanging bow ; But levell't fpears were forward bent. And fwords gave many a mortal blow. 142 Border Minjlreljy. On foot the noble Percy fought, 1 Whole ranks were hewn down by his hand. And limbs and heads were fhred away Like poppies by his fweeping brand. Now back to back the warriors flood. But what might fic a remnant do ? And fcattered o'er the bloody moor Were billmen keen and archers true. To right and left, before, ahint. The torrent of the war rolled by ; « The Red Rofe yet," Sir Percy cried. For off the field he fcorned to fly. His fhouts rung round the bluidy field, A fpearman thruft his body thro' ; But lightly from the ground he fprung Full thirty Englifh feet or moe. His death pangs gave him giant flrength. Backward he drave the foe ; What brand with his could fland a wyte. What fhield refift its blow ? Battle of Hedge ly Moor. 143 The crefcent on his helmet top. No bigger than a bee. Was hacked to flinders by the fwords Of his bold enemy. And many a mother's fon lay there. Within that bluidy ring. And many a banner fell to erthe. Ere Percy took his fpring. Sore hackit was his golden mayl. And eke the fword he drew. And from the chinks of his habergeon The blood was feeping thro'. But failed his life, he backward fank. As Montacute upon him prefl: ; The lafl: words thefe, the Percy faid, " Pve fav'd the bird within my breaft." A fterner field was never fought. When York his caufe made good ; But dearly was the conqueft won : The white rofe dyed its leaves in blood. Kynge Malcolme Is an original ballad ; firft printed in the prefent col- ledlion, and founded on the hiftorical fa6ls fubjoined. Alnwick Caftle appears to have been a place of great ftrength immediately after the Norman Conqueft ; for, in the reign of King William Rufus, it underwent a remarkable fiege from Malcolm the third, King of Scotland, who loft his life before it, as did his fon Prince Edward. The moft authentic account of this event feems to be that given in the ancient Chronicle of Alnwick Abbey, of which a copy is preferved in the Britifh Mufeum. This informs us, that the caftle, though very ftrong, was in danger of being taken by aflault ; and being cut off from all hopes of fuccour, was on the point of furrendering, when one of the garrifon undertook to refcue it by the following ftra- tagem. He rode forth completely armed, with the keys of the caftle tied to the end of his fpear, and pre- fented himfelf in a fuppliant manner before the king's Kynge Malcolme. 145 pavilion, as being come to furrender up the pofTeflion. Malcolm too haftily came forth to receive him, and received a mortal wound. The aflailant efcaped through the river, which was then fwoln with rain. The Chro- nicle adds, that his name was Hammond, and that the place of his paflage over the river, was long after known by the name of ' Hammond's Ford ; ' probably where the bridge was afterwards built. Prince Edward, Mal- colm's eldeft fon, incautioufly advancing to revenge his father's death, received a wound, of which he died three days after. The ipot where Malcolm was flain is dif- tinguifhed by a crofs, which was reftored in 1774, by Elizabeth, Duchefs of Northumberland, who was im- mediately defcended from the unfortunate king, by his daughter Queen Maud, wife of King Henry I. of England. The weft fide of the crofs bears the infcrip- tion, * Malcolm ye third. King of Scotlande was flain on this fpot, befieging Alnwick Caftle, Nov^'. 13, a. d. M.XCIII.' On the eaft fide, ' Malcolm's Crofs de- cayed by time, was reftored by his defcendant, Elizab"* Duchefs of Northumb'', M.D.CCLXXIV/ The Crofs has three fteps to the pedeftal ; on the north fide are fculptured a crown and thiftle, and on the fouth fide a lion rampant, with other devices. The pedeftal and capital of the old Crofs ftill remain amongft the adjoining trees. The Death of King Malcolme. HE fun was glinting thro' the fhaws. And flowered the elder tree, When Malcolme, King o' braid Scotland, Rofe up from the dew wet lea. Sing oh fo mournfully, fo dulefully. He held wild Morkall in Alnwick Towers, Wi' a ring o' armed men ; And all his warriors tented round, Were thoufands three and ten. Sing oh, &c. He prefled fo forely on the walls. They were like to eat the ftane ; They ilaughtered hounds and pinin' yauds. Picked rattons to the Bane. Sing oh, &"c. Death of King Malcohne. 147 Morkall he fwore to eat his gluves, Or ere he yields the wa's. And they are made of the good doe's hide. That louped in Durham's fhaws. Sing oh, &c. His bauldeft men can hardlings bear The weight o' their iron graith ; A mother wad fcaircely ken't her fon In that griefly band o' death. Sing oh, &c. In was upon a day in Spring, When the fcent came frae' the thorn, The Scottice monarch fummon't them. With three waughs o' the horn. Sing oh, &c. " Come doun from out your caftell grey, That wons upon the hill, Or by the rood, we'fe fhed your blood. For we are fworn to kill." Sing oh, &c. 14-8 Bo?^der MmJ}?^elfy. Morkall he glinted ower the walls, " So draw off a fpace your men ; I yield my truft nae help arrives, And Alnwick Caftle's taen. Sing oh, &c. " But give to me your kingly word. Ere I draw afp or bolt. Ten minutes to come, ten minutes to gae. Your faith and truth as a Scottice king, ITe meet you on the holt. Sing oh, &c. " And I'll give up my Caftle's keys To thee, thou Scottice king ; The braveft men in a' the Merfe Can dow but as they ding." Sing oh, &c. " My hand and gluve, my faith and troth, I give to thee alfo ; And I'll grant thee thy liberty. With leave to come and go." Sing oh, &c. Death of King Malcolme, 149 Wight Hammond mounted then his fteed. And he look'd to girth an' ftrap ; And wi' the keys on his Border fpear. Out ower the Brig he lap. Sing oh, &c. He pricked his charger cannily, For the brute had na' that force ; Nae corn in the garner, or oats in the bin. And the fire will leave a horfe. Sing oh, &c. There was a fechtin in his mind, For his cheek was deadly wan ; And he purfet his broos like one befet With a deep and deadly ban. Sing oh, &c. His mind was fet to do a deed. And he ftruck his rowells hard. The beaft fprung forth with na' corn in his wame. He near fell o'er the yird. Sing oh, &c. 150 Border Mi7tjireljy. He forded the Aim at the fall o' the hill, An arrow's flight from the towers. And on the knowe King Malcolme fl;ood, Surroundit by his powers. Sing oh, &c. Bauld Hammond check'd his bridle rein. Some ten yards frae the King ; He lowered his bafTen'd cap, and ftood Up in his ftirrup ring. Sing oh, &c. " I bear the keys o' Alnwick Gates;" He faid wi' faucy air ; " I hold them forth, let him wha likes Come tak them gin' he dare." Sing oh, &c. A fcore o' Chiefs put forth a flap. But Malcolme ftaid them a' ; " Now feint a hand fhall tak thofe keys, Save him wha gives the law." Sing oh, &:c. Death of Ki?tg Malcolme. 151 He walkit thro' the yellow broom, Fell Hammond he waited near ; He met liim full, and in Malcolme's eye He thruft his Border fpear ; Sing oh, &c. And turning round fled down the bank. And fquattered thro' the ford. And gained the Caftell ; brig and baulk Right willingly were lower'd. Sing oh, &c. Oh Jefu ! 'twas a fearful fight To fee that kingly man ; Strake thro' the flcull, whilft royal blood Left cheeks and haffets wan. Sing oh, &c. Then ficcan a cry o' wild revenge. Did earth and heaven flioun ; The birds that fkim'd alang the air. For very fright fell doun. Sing oh, &c. 152 Border Minji reify. The Scots are arming for the fight, O ficcan a fearful fhout. They rufhed red wud to the Caftle gates. Like a herd o' frightened nowte. Sing oh, &c. Now haud thy ain thou wild Morkall, For the Scots rage all below ; Thou'ft fought in mony a battle field. But never fo wild a foe. Sing oh, &c. From bendit bows, like winter's fleet. Shafts flyter thro' the fky ; They bend the bonny mangonel. And the flanes in fhowers fly. Sing oh, &c. Some on ilk ither's fhouthers mount, Whilfl reeking tar and pitch. With blocks and bars and het water. Fell warriors in the ditch. Sing oh, &c. Death of King Malcolme. 153 O, O, the fin ! O, O, the din ! That men ihould warfle fo, They backward bore the bloody King, From that green and fatal knowe. Sing oh, &c. Bauld Hammond's fpear hath gaflied his brows. His fkull is bark't and riven. And the priefl wi' words o' grace and luve. The dying King hath fhriven. Sing oh, &c. Yedward the Prince, that fated thruft. Doth honours to thee bring ; Of braid Scotland and Combernauld, It makes thee mighty King. Sing oh, &c. The battle founded loud and clear — Frae' his bed o' rufhes dried. Like one ftrong in life the King louped up. And his flogan wild he cried. Sing oh, &c. 154 Border Minjireljy. Sighdefs and fecklefs did he turn His face to the fechtin band ; He could na' fpeak, but he fetched his breath And deadly fhook his hand. Sing oh, &c. O but for ae' glance o' his eagle eye, O' heaven's bleffed light ; To die as fhould become a Chief, In the midft o' yonder fight. Sing oh, &c. He warfled wi' his agony, And to die like a mangy tyke — His Kingly foul flew frae his lips. In a wild unearthly fhriek. Sing oh, &c. His foul and life fled from his flefli. His hawkis eyes were flient ; He backward fell, a bloody corpfe. Ere his body touched the bent. Sing oh, &c. Death of King Malcolme, 155 The deed ftack to the bauld Hammond, And for his jouft fae grim, Becaufe he pierced King Malcolme's eye, Piercy they curfon't him. Sing oh, &c. They biggitt a crofs whare Malcolme fell, Where Hawthorn bloflbms wave ; I tell na lie, for ye yet may fee. King Malcolme's bloody grave. Sing oh fo dulefuUy, fae mournfully. \. The Dame of Haggerftonne. THIS Ballad Is partly original, and partly taken from a few verfes that appeared in the Lady's Magazine, ten years ago. The hero is Wilkie of Ladythorne, a fmall property on the coaft. Hagger- ftane or Eggerftane Hall, is half way between Belford and Berwick ; the Haggerftones were an ancient family ; one of them diftinguifhed himfelf greatly at the battle of Otterburn, and feveral of the family fell at the great fight at Flodden. The Dame of Haggerftonne. LADYE fits in Haggerftonne, And looketh fo fad I ween, For with her at confeffional A ftately Prieft hath been. And whilft fhe told her bedes of gold. The Lady oft began ; But fhe thought of the Prieft, 'Tis pity, fhe faid. He is ane holie man. His voice that whifpered in her ear Had fuch a fdver tone ; No maid could look upon his eyes And her fms think upon. 158 Border Minjlreljy. And then fhe told her beads again. And her fecret half began ; But 'tis pity, fhe faid, as fhe looked at the Prieft, He is ane holie man. His air was like a belted lord's, A courteous Prieft was he ; Did he but wear the fpur and fword, A gallant Knight he'd bee. And then agayn acrofs her beads Thofe trembling fyngers ranne ; But fhe looked at the Prieft, 'Tis great pitie He was ane holie man. A tourney's held by Berwick Walles, And high born dames are there, And Knights from every fhire and town Proclaim their Ladyes fayre. Then in there rode a gallant Knight, And his iron gluve let fall ; " The Dame of Haggerftonne," he cried, " Is the fayreft of them all." The Dame of Hugger Jlojtne, 159 And o'er the heads of Knight and Squire That Ladye's bright eyes ranne. For fhe thought of the Prieft, and the Lady fighed That he was a holie man. This gallant Knight he held the field 'Gainft comers all the daye ; And thofe who ran a courfe wyth hym Upon the ground muft laye. It was in running three courfes With Swintons Somerville, He loft his cafque by his foeman's {peare. And rocked in faddle feele. He gave the fpur to his proud charger, And rofe in ftirrup ring, And down upon Sir Somerville His biting fword did bring. He cut thro' fteel and good armour, Vantbrace and plated fhield ; " Take that," quo' he, " for my helmet's lofs," And Swinton rolled on the field. i6o Border MinJIrelJy. The blood rufhed to that Ladye's cheek, And her cheek flufhed red to wan ; And crofTed herfelf, as well fhe mought, For the Knight was her holie man. The night comes over Berwicke town. There's revel in Haggerftonne Hall ; But Wilkie of fayre Ladythorne, Is braveft of them all. " Mayds I've confefled In France and Spayn, And eke in Germanic ; But ne'er, in footh, may I hope agayn To meet with a Dame like thee : " For none fo fayre and bright as thou, Have I feen in any Ian' ; " **^ Nor I, in footh," quo' Haggerftonne's Dame, *' Saw ficcan a holie man." The bells o' Berwick Church ring out, And the Knights and Dames are there ; And the ftately Dame of Haggerftonne, "' Comes forth a bride fo fayre. The Dame of Haggerjlonjie, i6 Quo fche, '^ Gin thou hadfl; luved me firft, Why not as a gallant Knight Have fought my hand in gentlenefs, To win a ladye bright," " Oh then," faid he, " I fought to woo Thee for thy peerlefs felf ; Nor never a mammon mind had I, To win thee for thy pelf. " A lofel Knight is he at beft, Who courteth for red gold ; True love is not mean merchandife, That can be bought and fold : ** But where we love, true Knights will wed, Defpiten ftate or birth ; I loved thee for thy felf alone. And not thy tocher's worth." A rippling fmile came o'er her face. When fhe took the good Knight's han'. And fhe bleft herfelf, that many a iin She ne'er told to the holie Man. M The Slaughter of the Bifhop. THE {laughter of the Bifhop is mentioned in Brand's Hiftory of Durham ; what was the of- fence of this prelate, the hiftorian does not fay ; per- haps it was a queftion of tithes, or more probably fome ecclefiaftical change, to which the people offered refiftance, and in the heat of their fury, they broke in upon him and flew him, " The old Chapel by the gate," as the Chronicler avers, might well anfwer to the old Chapel in Gatefhead. The watch word of the murderers was " gude redde, fhorte redde, flay ye the Bifchoppe," meaning probably, a good riddance ; or redde" fl:ands for counfel in the old ballads, it as may have meant the latter. He hath broughte King William' s honde. That it was a weighty matter affeding fome refor- mation in the Church, we are led to believe by the Priefl: being armed with King William's word (that The Slaughter of the BiJJjop. 1 6 is, the parchment), with the law or order figned by the King (William I.). The Black Friars and the White ^ And eke the lowly e Greye. There were Monafterles of all thefe orders In New- caftle, during the period of which we write. There are fquares ftlll known by the name of " Black Friars, White Friars," and feveral lanes called " Grey Friars, Low Friars, Crutched Friars," &c. yind. My maJierSy he fay d, what means this effeir ? " Bodin in effeir," a Border phrafe, to come armed for battle. Roje high as Saynt Nicholajfe. See the Ballad of " Earl Moray." He clave the woode, when fir ange to tell Out gu/hed a fireame of bloode. A miracle occurred on the feaft of St. Ofwin (which the author has copied In the prefent ballad). " On the feaft of the paffion of Saint Ofwin (a Saxon martyr and king), as a fallor was cutting a piece of wood on board his fchlppe at Newcaftle-on-Tyne, he faw blood gufh out of It In great abundance ; recolleding the feftival he gave over work, but a companion of his, 164. Border Minjlrelfy, regardlefs of the miracle, perfifted in his profane bufinefs ; and upon ftriking the wood, the blood gufhed out in ftill greater abundance. Both clergy and laity were informed of this, and approved the miracle ; the wood was carried to Tynemouth, where the Saint's bodie was interred, to be there preferved in teftimony thereof." Bede^ Knowne for hys JanSlitie. See the life and writings of the Venerable Bede. The Slaughter of the Biftiop. HE Bifchoppe has come with King William's worde To the Chapell by the gate ; But he may rue his journeyings, Or ere it be too late. Gude redde, fhort redde, flay ye the Bifchoppe. The people are there, with hanging looks. And no man cries, " God blefle Thee thou Bifchoppe of King Willyam, Arrayed in holyneffe." Gude redde, &c. He hath broughte Kyng Willyam's honde. Written on parchment fayre, Gif any like to fee the wordes They in his face fhall ftare. Gude redde, &c. 1 66 Border Minjlreljy. The Black Friars and the White, And eke the lowlye Greye, Walk two's and two's wyth the proud Bifchoppe, A fayre fighte by my faye. Gude redde, &c. In and upon the Gatefhead ftreets. The people gather and fille, Wyth flicks ftelle headed, ftaves and ftones. The Durham Priefl to kille. Gude redde, &c. They gather about the holye chappelle. And talk of his perfidie ; How that he has grafpit all the tythes, And fwept the fat off the lea. Gude redde, &c. Ruddie his hue and whyte his haire. Firm was his browe ; albeyte his eyes Flamed in his hede lyke coals of fyre, As rounde he looked in wonder wyfe. Gude redde, &c. The Slaughter of the BiJJjop, 167 The ftowne of tongues grewe threateninge, As the Bifchoppe tended mafTe ; But the fhoutinge and the people's groans, Rofe highe as Saint NicholafTe. Gude redde, &c. The Bifchoppe rufhed to the altarr ftone, For he was a hafty manne ; And/'My mafters," he fay 'd, "what means this efFeir ? " When arofe arounde the banne. Gude redde, &c. They clofed uppone the Durham Saynt, To fplit his fhaven crowne. When he helde the precioufe croffe aloofe, Where our Savioure looked downe. Gude redde, &c. But the howlinge men of the gate Prefte on to flaye the Priefte, So he withdrew into the chappelle. As a fanfluarie of refte. Gude redde, &c. 1 68 Border Minjlrelfy. Uppe came Ringan of Lymington, And Roger of the fenne, Ned of the Huddocks, St. Dunftone's Cocke, And a hoft of fhrleking menne. Gude redde, &c. The Bifchoppe ftoode, and his fnowy hairs Were ftreaming in the blaft ; Quo he, " Have ye fome reverence — " But the croffe from his gripe they caft. Gude redde, &c. He haftened to the altarr fteppes. And there his courage keppe ; A lowfel lifted his partizan. And clave the chappelle fteppe. Gude redde, &c. He clave the woode, when ftrange to telt Out gufhed a ftreame of bloode I " A mirackle," the Bifchoppe criede From the altarr where he ftoode." Gude redde, &c. The Slaughter of the BiJJjop, 169 " It flialle not fave thee," fierce Ringan fayde. And the Bifchoppes ikulle he clave. When bloode and brains flew all aboute. On chappelle walle and pave. Gude redde, &c. There was a fearfulle crie wente uppe For horror at what was done ; They fled their wayes, and the Priefl:te was lefte Deade ! on the altarr flione. Gude redde, &c. The Monkes of Jarrowe came up the Tyne, Wyth St. Cuthbert's banner a' fl:reame. And the dyrge rofe for the Bifchoppes foule, The rowers' fonge betweene. Gude redde, &c. They gatheret uppe the flaughtered Priefl:te, In his gory robes bedlghte ; Oh holye Chryfl:e ! his crimfonne bloode Had dyed his fl:ole fo whyte. Gude redde, &c. I JO Border Minjlrelfy. They never lyfted oarre or fayle. When they hove the bodle aborde ; When the boate it grounded in Jarrow Slake, As of its owne accorde. Gude redde, &c. Not all the menne in Chriftendie, Forbye Northumberlande, Coulde thrufte the boate a fadom's lengthe From off the tail of the fande : Gude redde, &c. But a gentil winde came from the weft. And they fung Saynt Cuthbert's hymn, And the bodie dryfted to the lande, As faft as itt coulde fwym. Gude redde, &c. They buryed hym in folemn wyfe. In Jarrow Monafterie, Where lived and prayed the holie Bede, Knowne for hys fanditie. Gude redde, &:c. The Lament of Claverin THIS Ballad is founded on a tradition prevalent in Northumberland. Near Stanton townfhip, in the parifh of Long Houghton, the remains of a ftone crofs are yet to be feen, of which Hodgfon, in his Hiftory of Northumberland, gives this account. " On the Lime Kiln Flats, about a quarter of a mile north of the village, a ftone crofs ftill ftands in a field, on the eaft fide of the way, which the country people aver was let up in memory of a gentleman of the name of Clavering, being flain on the fpot by a party of Scots." In this ballad (founded on this tradition) I have repre- fented him as belonging to the houfe of Callaly : for Clavering is a Northumbrian name of great antiquity ; and the pedigree of the houfe of Callaly might per- haps throw a light on this unfortunate gentleman's defcent. I had in view, during the compofition of this ballad, the exquifite fong of " Balow my Babe." The " Braes of Yarrow," might alfo have ferved for a 172 Border M in/} reify. model ; but the latter ballad has neither the pathos nor tendernefs of " Lady Anne Bothwell's lament." 'The Monckes at Brynkburn hys dyrge Jhall fing. This priory was founded in the reign of Henry I. by a Baron of Mitford, and from difcoveries made at various times, Brinkburn feems to poflefs claims to great antiquity. Hiftorians have afTerted that here, in former times, a temple ftood, devoted to the wor- fhip of Jupiter : ere the Chriftian Priefls, in this fe- cluded retreat, built the prefent Priory for the vefpers of the Virgin Mary. Brinkburn Priory is aptly named, ftanding as it does on the brink of a burn or brook, on the right bank of the river Coquet, fix miles above "Felton. Hodgfon in his Hiftory of Northumberland writes : " Hidden as it now is, tradition reports that it was furrounded with a thick foreft in early times, which obfcured the rays of the fun at noon day, fo that a turret of the building could not be feen by a pafler by. On a fultry Summer's day, when a uni- verfal drought prevailed, a party of Scottifh mofT- troopers, loaded with the fpoils of a fuccefsful foray, and fatigued with the heat of the fun, entered the ikirts of the ancient foreft. Their intention was to add the fpoils of the Priory to their already accumu- lated plunder ; but after much fearch, not being able to difcover the wood-embofomed pile, they began to The Lament of Clavering, 173 proceed homeward. The Monks, overjoyed at the retreat of their enemy, caufed the great bell of the Priory to be rung, and the brethren aflembled to offer up thanks for their deliverance. The Scots had un- fortunately proceeded but a fhort way from the Priory when the found ftruck on their ears ; they marked the diredion from whence the found proceeded, and the leader of the band immediately ordered his followers to return, and fearch out a paffage through the woods by which they might approach the Priory. With the unerring fagacity of their own blood hounds the ruth- lefs band proceeded, and on obtaining a glimpfe of the facred edifice they rufhed forward, and having broken open the facred pile, entered tumultuoufly, and pro- faned the facred edifice by their furious execrations. The unfortunate Monks were at prayers when thus difturbed, and rifing in the utmoft difmay, fled to the woods, &c. Meanwhile, the work of pillage com- menced ; every corner was fearched, and every valu- able taken. They then fet fire to the building, and retired homeward laden with fpoil. The Monks crept from their various places of concealment, and gazed with looks of forrow and helpleffnefs on the burn- ing pile. Deprived of fhelter, they were obliged to accept the hofpitality of the neighbouring peafants, until their fancftuary could be rebuilt." The Lament of Clavering. AES me for the gentle Clavering, Who fell at the Stanton Stone ; The Monckes of Brinkburn hys dyrge fhall fing, And his bonny burdie moan. The faufe Scots met on the Nine Kilns Flat, To redde the Teviot raid ; Waes me for gentle Callaly, That ever he fholde be flayed. The fun blinked owre Rimfide fell, When Clavering left his home. He tryftcd me and his fifters twa At gloaming back to come. The Lmnent of Clavering. 175 The Scottifh fpear has gored his breaft. And he'll come back nae mair ; But I'll wafh the wounds with my briny tears. And wipe them wi' my hair. His fark was of the filk fae fine, And his doublet thefe fingers fewed, Had flowers upon it bonnily, Wi' flems o' twifted goud. They're watered now wi' a bloody fhower : That ever it fhould be fo. And my poor heart ior evermore Muft dwell with cark and woe. O ftarkly girn his gaping wounds. And his hair is fteeped in bluid ; His fword is fecklefs in his hand, Slayn by a villain's mood. Gafhed is the face that took my eye. When luve I gave to thee ; Thofe locks of thine, fayr Clavering, Now reft upon the lea. 176 Border Mmjlreljy. I'll wafh the clotted blood awaye, That blinds his hazel e'en, I'll wrap him in a fnowy fhrowd. Beneath the heather green. I gave to him a true love token, Ere he rode forth that day ; Oh bonny luve ! and was thy hafte So fwift, thou couldft not ftay ? How do I for thee ceafelefs weep. When thou poor lifelefs thing, Neer heeds my fabbing or my fighs. My woman's fuffering. That breaft which I have lain upon. Is riddled with a fpear ; That manly breaft o' bravery. That heart that kent na' fear. The filly peefe whaup mourns its love, The merle with the drooping wing. Croons for its flaughtered partener. And I for my Clavering. The Lament of Clavering. 177 The beft in all the Glendale ward, Lies ftark upon the lea ; No kinfmen have his bluidy fall Revengit furioufly. But woman's words have nae revenge, And man can't waken him ; So leave it to the Lord o' hofts, And to his vengeance grim. The flower is gone from Callaly, The bonnie dove taen wing ; Waes me, waes me, out and alas For gentle Clavering ! N The Gloamyn Buchte. THIS beautiful Ballad firft appeared in a fmall volume of poems, publifhed at Jedburgh in 1 8 24, entitled " Border Ballads," by James Telfer. It has been long out of print, and the Ballad given here is the only one in his coUedlion approaching to the " fpiced crantz of other days, grey with the mift of antiquity." This Ballad has appeared in " Richard- fon's Table Book," and the introdu6tion informs us, " After the general difperfion of the fairies (fee the note on the Ballad of the ' Gramarye,') a few would feem to have lingered amongft the receffes of the Bor- der, until a comparatively modern date. They are the laft faint glimpfes of our fuperftition, which to me feem like the remaining and broken columns of a ruined temple, obferved when day has departed, and immediately before they are fhrouded in the fhadow of night." Many anecdotes might be related in illuftra- tion of this Ballad : we fhall confine ourfelves to one. The G loamy 71 Buchte. 179 " My father," fays Robin Oliver, " lived at the Hyndlee and herded the Brockalaw ; weel it was the cuftom in thofe days to milk the yowes (ewes), and my father was buchtin the Brockalaw yowes to twa lifh, young clever hizzies yae night after funfet : nae little daffin and gabbin went on I warrant, till at laft juft as it began to get darkifh, my feyther chanced to look alang the lea at the head o' the bucht, and what does he fee but a little wee creature, a' clad in green, and wi' lang hair yellow as gowed hingin down his fhoulders : comin ftraight to him, whyles gien a whink o' a greet, and a' atween hands raifin a ftrange un- yirthly cry, * O hae ye feen Hewie Milburn ? O hae ye feen Hewie Milburne ? ' Inftead o' making the creature any anfwer, my feyther lap owre the Bucht dyke to be near the lafTes ; he could only fay, * Blefs us too ! what's that ? ' ' Ha, ha, Patie lad,' quo' BefTy Elliot, a free fpoken Liddefdale wench, '■ there's a wife come for ye the night, Patie lad.' ' A wife,' faid my feyther, ' the lord keep me from ficcan a wife as that ! ' And as he confeffed, till the day of his death, he was in ficcan a fright, that he fand every hair on his head rife like the birfes (briftles) o' a hurcheon (hedgehog). Weel, there was nae mair faid, and the creature, it was na bigger than a three year auld lafTie, but feat and tight, lith an limb, as ony grown woman, and its face was the doonright perfedion o' beauty ; only i8o Border Mmjireljy, there was fomething wild and unyirthly in its e'en; they could'na be looked at and lefs be defcribit. Well, as I was faying, it did no more moleft them, further on that it taiglet on about the Bucht, aye now and then repeatin its cry, * Hae ye feen Hewie Milburn ? ' And they could come to nae ither conclufion, but that it had tint (loft) its companion. When my feyther and the lafTes left the bucht, it followed them hame even to Hyndlee Kytchen, where the woman offered it fome ewe brofe ; but it wadna tak anything, till at laft a ne'er do well of a cowherd callant, made as if he wad grip it by the nofe wi' a pair o' red het tangs, when it appeared to be offendit, for it left the houfe and wandered down the Burn, crying its auld cry wearyer and far more waefome than ever, untill it came to a bufs of feggs (fedges), where it fauntit and was never mair feen." 'The moudies {moles) powtelit out d the yirth And kijfed the Jyngers feet. This verfe and the feven ftanzas following, are truly beautiful. In the defcription of the auditors of the " yowling yowte," the figures are grouped together with fo bold a hand, that we wonder how fome glaring abfurdity or offenfive image does not rife up to ftartle the eye or the imagination. But it is not fo. What graphic painting is there here — The Gloamvn Biichte. i8i The hurcheon raxed his gory chaffs^ And gepit in girningjoy^ and in The ftynkyn brokke (badger) wi' his lang lank lyjke Shotte up his gruntle to fee. How beautifully are the various comers of earth and fky introduced, with a wild imagery and fublime conception, worthy of Shakfpere, from the ^' pert little eflcis," to the " tade, that held up her auld dun lufes (hands)." The " mawkin," that " goggled in the fynger's face," is exquifite : the eye of the hare being uncommonly large and beautiful, the truthfulnefs of the allufion is at once apparent. O where is tiny Hewe? And where is little Lenne ? The ** wee bairnys" fong is highly charadleriftic ; and the wild and grotefque chorus adds an indefcrib- able zeft to the whole. As Shakfpere had the wondrous felicity of faying what he thought in the moft appro- priate and forcible words of our language ; fo it almoft appears, that Telfer has done all that could be written to defcribe a fong of the fairies, as he has chofen the very words and ideas that could embody it, and no- thing more. There is the ftamp of no common genius on the " Gloamyn Buchte." 1 82 Border Mi?2jireljy, We have been aflured that " Telfer Is one of thofe whofe merit the world has been flow to recognife, and alas jftill flower to reward." We are forry for it ; pity, that the man, who penned fuch exquifite lines, fhould ever know the gripe of poverty. Among our forefathers the voice of the minftrel was like the breath of Spring, quickening into life not only mute but im- material things ; and if the leaflefs tree and naked rock appeared in their barrennefs as they do now, they gave the more relief to the luxuriance around them, render- ing the green blade and the blofToming bough the more attradtive : even fo was the voice of the minftrel, calling the attention from the dull things of this earth, and rendering the crofTes and misfortunes of this world bearable by the magic which he threw around them. We may remark, that a " Buchte" is a fheepfold; milking the ewes was common enough in the time of Burns, and It is ftill followed In fome of the paftoral diftrldls of Scotland. The Gloamyn Buchte. HE fun was redde as a furnace mouthe. As he funk on the Ettricke hyll ; The gloamyn gathered frae the eafle, The dowye world to fille. When bonny Jenny Roole fhe milket the yowes, I'th' Buchte aboon the lynne, And they were wild and ill to weare. But the hindmoft buchtfu' was inne. " O mylk them well, my bonny Jenny Roole," The wilye fhepherde woulde fay, " And fing to me the ' Keache in the Creele,' To put the tyme away." 184 Border Mi?tftreljy. " It's far oure late, fliepherde, at e'en," Replyed the maiden fayre, *' The fayres wad hear me/' quo bonny Jenny Roole, " And wi' louthig my back is fair." He's taen her rounde the middle fae fma. Whiles the yowes ran by between. And out o' the Buchte he's laid her downe. All on the dewy green. The ftar o' love in the eaftern lifte. Was the only e'ee they faw ; The only found that they might hear. Was the linne's deep murmuring fa'. Oh, who can tell of youthful love. Oh, who can fing or fay ? It is a theme for minftrel meete. And yet tranfcends his laye. It is a thraldome, welle I weene. To hold the hearte in fylke ; It is a draughte to craze the braine, But mylder 'tis than mylke. The G loamy n Buchte. 185 *^ O fing me the fong, my bonny Jenny Roole, Now, deareft, fing to me ; The angels will liften at their little holes. And witnefs my vowes to thee." " I mayna refufe," quo bonny Jenny Roole, " Sae welle ye can me winne ; " And fhe fatte in his armes and fweetely fung. And her voice rang from the linne. The likings o' that lilver voice Might well the wittes beguile ; They clearer were than fliepherd's pipe. Heard o'er the hylles a mylle. The lyltings o' that fylver voyce. That rofe and felle fo free. They fofter were than lady's lute. Heard on Italian fea. The lyltings o' that fylver voyce Was melody fae true. They fprang up thro' the welkin wide To the heaven's key-ftane blue. 1 86 Border Minjlreljy. " Sing on, fing on, my bonny Jenny Roole, Sing on your fonge fae fweete." *' Now Chryft me fave," quo the bonny lafle, «* Whence comes that waefome greete ? " They turned their gaze to the mourning cleuch. Where the greeting feemed to be. And there beheld a little greene bairne. Come o'er the darkfome lea. And aye it raifed a waefome grette, Butte and an eirie crye, Untill it cam to the Buchte fauld ende, Where the wynfom pair did lye. It looked around with its fnail cap eyne. That made their hearts fae grou. Then turnd upright its grafs greene face. And opyned its goblin mou ; Then raifed a yowle fae loud and lange, Sae yellifh and fae fhrille. As dirled up to the twinkling holes. The fecond lyftte intill. The G loamy n Buchte. 187 I tell the tale as told to me, I fwear fo by my faye. And whether or not of glamourie. In foothe I cannot fay. The yowling yowte fae yellifh was, Butte and fae lang and loude. The ryfyng moon like faffron grewe. And holed ahint a cloude. And rounde the boddom o' the liftte. It rang the worild through. And boomed agaynfl the Mylky Waye Afore it clofed its mou. Then neift It raifed Its note and fang, Sae wytchinglye and fweete ; The moudies powtelit out o' the yirth, And kiffed the fynger's feet. The waizle dunne frae the auld grey cairn. The thieffe foumart cam nigh, The hurcheon raxed his gory chafts, . And gepit wi' girning joy. 1 88 Border Minjireljy. The todde he came frae the fcrethy holes And courit fou cunningly ; The ftynkyn brokke wi' his lang lank lyfke Shotte up his gruntle to fee. The kydde and martyn ranne a race Amang the dewy feme ; The mawkin goggled in the fynger's face. The enchanting notes to learne. The pert little efkis they curled their tails. And danced a myrthfome reele. The tade held up her auld dun lufes. She lykit the fonge fae welle : The herone cam frae the witch pule tree. The howlet frae dead woode knowe. The auld gray corby hoverit abune. While tears doun his cheekes did flow. The yowes they lap out oure the buchte. And fkippit up and doun ; And bonny Jenny Roole in the fhepherd's arms, Fell back out oure in a fwoone. The G loamy n Buchte. 189 It might be glamourye or not. In footh I cannot fay. It was the witching tyme of night. The hour o' gloamyn greye. And fhe that lay in her luver's armes, I wis was a weel faured Maye. Her pulfes all were beating trewe. Her heart was louping lighte ; Unto that wondrous melody. That femple fonge of mighte. The Song of the Elf. r\ WHERE is tiny Hewe ? ^-^ O where is little Lenne ? And where is bonny Lu, And Menie o' the Glen ? And where's the place o' refte. The ever changing hame ? Is it the gowan's breaft. Or 'neath the bell of faem ? Chorus, Ay lu Ian, Ian dil yu' &c. 1 90 Border Minjlreljy. The faireft rofe you findde May have a taint withynne, The flower o' womankynde May ope her breaft to flnne ; The foxglove cuppe we bringge. The tayl of fhootyng ftern, And at the grafly ryng We'll pledge the pith o' feme. Chorus, Ay lu Ian, Ian dil yu' &c. And when the blufliing moone Glides downe the weftern ikye. By ftreamer's wing we foone Upon her toppe will lie ; Her higheft home well ryde. And quaff her yellow dewe, And fra' her fliadowyye fyde The burnyng days we'll view. Chorus, Ay lu Ian, Ian dil yu' &c. The ftrain rofe high, the ftrain fell dow'. Then fainted fitfullye. And bonny Jenny Roole fhe lookit up. To fee what fhe might fee. I The Gloamyn Buchte. 191 She lookit highe to the bodynge hille. And laighe to the darklyn lea ; She hearde the founds ftill ring in the lifte. But naethyng coulde fcho' fee. She held her breath wyth anxious care, \ 1 And thought it alle a dreme ; But an eerie nicher fhe herde in the linne. And a plitch platch in the ftreame. Never a worde fayd bonny Jenny Roole, Butte " Shepherde let us gange," And never mair at a Gloamynge Buchte Wald fhe fyng another fange. The Outlandifti Kniffht. A Border Ballad. THIS Ballad I have copied from a broad fheet in the poflefllon of a gentleman of Newcaftle ; it has alfo been publifhed in " Richardfon's Table Book." The verfes with inverted commas I added at the fug- geftion of a friend, as it was thought the Knight was not rendered fufficiently odious without this new trait of his difhonour. There is in Monk Lewis's Tales of Wonder, a tranflation from a German Ballad, on the fame fubjed or nearly fo ; for the Knight goes to church, and meeting with a lovely mayden, Hejkipped o'er benches one or two, " Oh lovely maid, I die for you ;"" He Jkipped o'er benches two or three ^ ** Oh lovely maid, come walk with meT The maiden complies ; but it appears the Knight The OutlandiJIj K7nght, 193 proves to be a " moft perfidious monfter," as Trinculo fays of Caliban, for he entices the pretty maid to crofs the river in a boat, and when in the centre of the ftream he finks with his prey into the waves. Camp- bell's well known Ballad of " Lord Ullin's Daughter," is on the fame fubjedl. Who the author of the " Outlandifh Knight" was, I have no means of difcovering, as it is one of thofe Ballads that pafs down the ftream of time unclaimed, and whofe authorftiip is left for the antiquary to dif- cover. o The Outlandifli Knight. N Outlandifh Knight from the north lands came, And he came a wooing to me ; He told me he'd take me to the north lands, And I fhould his fair bride be. A broad, broad fhield did this ftranger wield. Whereon did the red crofs fhine ; Yet never, I ween, had that ftrange Knight been In the fields of Paleftine. And out and fpoke the ftranger Knight, This Knight of the ftrange countrie i " O may den fayr, with the raven hay re, Thou ftialt at my bidding be. The Outlandijh Knight. 195 " Thy fire he is from home, ladye. For he hath a journey gone ; And his fhaggy blood-hound is fleeping found Befide the poftern ftone. " Go bring me fome of thy father's gold. And fome of thy mother's fee ; And fteeds twain of the beft, that in the flails reft. Where they ftand thirty and three." * * # * # She mounted her on her milk white fteed. And he on a dapple grey. And they forward did ride till they reached the fea fide. Three hours before it was day. Then out and fpoke this ftranger Knight, This Knight of the north countrie ; " O may den fayr, with the raven hay re. Do thou at my bidding be. " Alight thee from thy mylk white fteed. And deliver it unto me ; Six maids have 1 drowned where the billows found, And the feventh one fhalt thou be. 196 Border MtJiJlrelfy, " But firft pull off thy kirtle fine. And deliver it unto me ; Thy kirtle of green is too rich, I ween, To rot in the fait, fait fea. " Pull ofF, pull off, thy filken fhoon. And deliver them unto me ; Methinks they are too fine and gay. To rot in the fait, fait fea, " Pull off, pull off thy bonny green plaid, That floats in the breeze fo free. It is woven fine with the filver twine. And comely it is to fee." " If I mufl: pull off my bonny filk plaid, O turn thy back to me. And gaze on the fun, which has jufl; begun To peer owre the fait, fait fea." " Thou art too fhameful, fayr maid," he faid, " To wanton fo with me ; I've feen thee in thy holland fmock. And all to pleafure me." The OuttandiJIj Knight, 197 " If thou haft (ttn. me in my fmock, The more fhame thee betide ; It better befeem'd that tongue not tell. But rather my fmne to hide. " Who ever tempted weak woman Unto a deede of evil ; To tempt the firft and then to twit, Befeemeth but the deyvil." He turned his back on the fayr damfelle. And looked upon the beam ; She grafpt him tight with her arms fo white. And plunged him in the ftreme. The ftreme It ruftied, and the Knight he roar'd. And long with the waters ftrave ; The water kelpies laughed with joy, As they fmoored him in the wave. " Lie there, lie there, thou falfe hearted Knight, Lie there inftead of me ; Six damfels fayr thou haft drowned there, But the feventh has drowned thee." 198 Border Minjireljy. The ocean wave was the falfe one's grave. For he funk right haftily ; Tho' with bubbling voice he pray'd to his faint. And utter'd an. Ave Marie. The fair Flower of Northum- berland. THIS Ballad has been known about the Englifh Border for many years, and I can remember a verfion of it being fung by my grandmother. It treats of the betrayal and defertion of a daughter of " the good Erie of Northumberland;" but which Earl, or in what age it happened, there are no means of afcer- talnlng, further than he was a Scottifh Knight, who proved untrue to his vows. " The fraud of man was ever fo, fince Summer firft was leafy," fo writes Shak- fpere, who took it in turn from that truly old Eng- lifh Ballad, " It was a Friar of Orders Grey," attri- buted with I know not what juftice to Beaumont and Fletcher. I have added the laft verfe but one, as I thought the ends of Ballad juftice would not be fulfilled, if the falfe Knight ihould efcape condign punifhment. Chopping the fpurs from a Knight's heel, was the 200 Border Minjlreljy. very height of degradation, a kind of knightly drum- ming out ; whilft breaking the fword over the culprit's head was always reforted to, preparatory to execution for treafonable or difgraceful offences. The fair Flower of Northum- berland. T was a Knight in Scotland born, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Was taken prifoner, and left forlorn Even by the good Erie Northumberland. Then was he caft in prifon ftrong. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Where he could not walk or lay along. Even by the good Erie Northumberland. And as in forrow thus he lay. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; The Erl's fweet daughter walks that way. And fhe is the fair Flower of Northumberland. 2 o 2 Border Mtnjlrelfy. And pafTing by like ane angel bryght. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; The prifoner had of her a fight. And fhe the fair Flower of Northumberland. And aloud to her this Knight did cry, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; The fait tears ftanding in his eye, And fhe the fair Flower of Northumberland. " Fair lady," he faid, " take pity on me. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And let me not in prifon die. And you the fair Flower of Northumberland." " Fair Sir, how fhould I take pity on you ? Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Thou being a foe to our countrie. And I the fair Flower of Northumberland." " Fair lady, I am no foe," he fayd. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; " Through thy fweet love here was I ftay'd. For the fair Flower of Northumberland." The Flower of Northumberland. 203 " Why fhouldft thou come here for love of me, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Having wife and children in thy country. And I the fair Flower of Northumberland." *' I fwear by the blefTed Trinity, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; I have no wife or children, I, Nor dwelling at home in merry Scotland. " If courteoufly thou wilt fet me free. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; I vow that I will marry thee. So foon as I come to fayre Scotland. *' Thou fhalt be a lady of caftles and towers. Follow my love, come over the Strand, And fit like a queen in princely bowers, Were I at home in fayre Scotland. Then parted hence this lady gay. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And ftole her father's ring away. To help this Knight in fayre Scotland. 2 04 Border Mi?tjlreljy. Likewlfe much gold fhe got by fleight, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And all to help this forlorn Knight, To wend from her father in fayre Scotland. Two gallant fteeds, both good and able. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; She llkewife took out of the ftable. To ride with the Knight to fayre Scotland. And to the jay lor fhe fent the ring. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Who the Knight from prifon forth did bring. To wend with her into fayre Scotland. This token fett the prifoner free. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Who ftraight went to this fair lady. To wend with her to fayre Scotland. A gallant fteed he did beftride. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And with the lady away did ride. And fhe the fair Flower of Northumberland. The Flower of Northumberland. 205 They rode till they came to a water clear. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; " Good Sir, how fhoiild I follow you here. And I the fair Flower of Northumberland ? " The water is rough and wonderful deep, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And on my faddle I fhall not keep, And I the fair Flower of Northumberland." " Fear not the ford, fair lady," quo' he, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; " For long I cannot ftay for thee. And thou the fair Flower of Northumberland." The lady prickt her gallant fteed, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And over the river fwam with fpeed. And fhe the fair Flower of Northumberland. From top to toe all wet was fhe, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Thus have I done for love of thee. And I the fair Flower of Northumberland. 2o6 Border Minjlrelfy. Thus rode fhe all one winter's night, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Till Edinborough they faw in fight. The faireft town in all Scotland. " Now choofe," quo" he, " thou wanton Flower, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; If thou wilt be my paramour. Or get thee home to Northumberland. " For I have a wife, and children five. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; In Edinborough they be alive. Then get thee home to Northumberland. " This favour thou fhalt have to boot. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; I'll have thy horfe, go thou on foot. Go, get thee home to Northumberland." " O falfe and faithlefs Knight," quo fhe. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; *' And canfl: thou deal fo bad with me. And I the fayre Flower of Northumberland ? The Flower of Northumberland. 207 " Dlihonour not a lady's name, Follov/ my love, come over the Strand ; But draw thy fword and end my fhame. And I the fair Flower of Northumberland." He took her from her ftately fteed. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And left her there in extreme need, And fhe the fair Flower of Northumberland. Then fat fhe down full heavily, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; At length two Knights came ridin by, Two gallant Knights of fair England. She fell down humbly on her knee. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Saying, " Courteous Knights, take pity on me. For I am the fair Flower of Northumberland. ** I have offended my father dear. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And by a falfe Knight, who brought me here From the good Erie of Northumberland." 20 8 Border Minjlreljy. They took her up behnid them there, Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And brought her to her home again. And he the good Earl of Northumberland. They chopped the fpurs from the falfe Knight's heels. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; And broke his fword upon his head. For wronging the Flower of Northumberland. All you fair maydens, be warned by me. Follow my love, come over the Strand ; Scots never were true, nor ever will be To lord, or lady, or fair England. Lady Jean. "DOTHAL CASTLE, the fcene of this Ballad, is -*-' fituated on the Wanfbeck, three miles from Mor- peth. It was built by the anceftors of the " Bertram," mentioned in the Ballad of Lord Hepburn, and in ancient times it was a place of confiderable ftrength. It is related by tradition, that a "^ Scotch Knight, named Dunbar, bearing a fox's tail in his helmet, as a chal- lenge for any man to fight him, travelled throughout England, and going towards his own country, was encountered by Syr Robert Ogle, and flain with a pole-axe, which remained as a trophy until very lately in the great hall of Bothal Caftle." The Lord Dacre, mentioned as the intended bridegroom in the Ballad, may have been the '' Dacre" of Flodden Field. (For an account of whofe family, fee Scot's '' Lay of the laft Minftreir) He was warden of the Eaftern March in the reign of Henry VIII. The Umphreville or Umfraville, mentioned alfo as the lover of Lady Jean, 2IO Border Mmjlreljy. was defcended from a very powerful family, of which there were feveral branches. In the reign of Henry V. we find one " Sir Robert Umfraville," profecuting John de Manners, Sheriff of Northumberland, and his fon, for having killed William Heron, Efq. and Robert Atkinfon, There was formerly at Alnwick an Abbey of Pre- monflratenfian Canons. In the Chronicles of this houfe, preferved in the library of King's College, Cambridge, there is an account of a banquet given by Walter de Hepfcotes, the Abbot, a. d. 1376, on the day of the AfTumption of the BlefTed Virgin Mary, to Henry, the Fourth Lord of Alnwick, and thirteen Knights, amongft whom occurs the name of " Ingram de Um- fraville." The principal fcion of the family fettled at Otterbourne at a very early period ; and we find that at the " Battle of Otterbourne" between the Douglas and Percy, Sir Ralph de Umphreville performed good " yeoman's fervice." Who the author of this Ballad is, I know not : it appeared in " Richardfon's Table Book," with the initials R. W. appended to it. It is an old Ballad, and like other renowned lyrics, whofe authors are en- veloped in myflery, it has become a " waif" and " flray" to any Poetical Lord of the Manor who may choofe to lay claim to it. We may fuppofe Scott to have feen it ; if fo, I am jRirongly inclined to believe JLady Jean, 211 that it furnifhed the " Young Lochinvar" of the great Novelift. The incidents are nearly the fame as in the " Bridal of Netherby," only the hero Umphreville, though much talked of, is like the " great Timoleon " in the *' Grecian Daughter," never feen. Lady Jean. Y Bothal's tower, fweet Wanfbeck's ftream Rins bickcrin to the Tea ; Aloft, the breezes of the morn The banners waving free. There's joy in Bothal's bonny bowers. There's mirth within the ha' ; But oure the cheek of Lady Jean, The tricklin tear drops fa'. She fits within her chamber high. Her coufin's by her fide ; Yet fweir is flie to don the drefs That's fitting for a bride. Lady Jea72. 213 " O hafte ! Lord Dacre's on his way, Ye hae nae time to fpare ; Come let me clafp that jimp girdle, And braid your glofTy hair, " Of a' the ladies in the land, Yefe be furpafled by nane ; The lace that's on your velvet robe, Wi' goud 'ill ftand its lane. " This jewelled chaplet ye'll put on, That broidered necklace gay ; For we maun ha' ye bufkit well On this your bridal day." *' O Ellen, you would think it hard To wed againft your will ; I never loved Lord Dacre yet, I dinna like him ftill. " He kens, tho' oft he fued for love Upon his bended knee ; Ae tender word, ae kindly look, He never gat frae me. 214 Border Minjireljy. '^ And he has gained my mother's ear, My father's ftern command ; Yet this fond heart can ne'er be his. Although he claim my hand. *' O Ellen, foftly lift to me, I ftill may fcape the fnare ; This morn I fent to Otterbourne, The tidings would be there. " And hurrying on, comes Umphreville, His fpur is fharp at need ; There's nane in a' Northumberland Can boaft a fleeter fteed. " Ah, well I ken his heart is true. He will, he muft be here ; Aboon the garden wa' he'll wave The pennon o" his fpear." *' Far is the way, the burns are deep, The broken muirs are wide ; Fair lady, ere your true love comes You'll be Lord Dacre's bride. Lady yean. 215 " Wi' ftately, folemn ftep, the prieft Climbs up the chapel ftair ; Alas ! alas ! for Umphreville, His heart may well be fair, " Keep back, keep back, Lord Dacre's fteed. Ye mauna trot or gang ; And hafte ye, hafte ye, Umphreville, Your lady thinks you lang." In velvet fheen fhe wadna drefs, Nae pearlins oure her fhone. Nor broidered necklace fparkling bright. Would Lady Jean put on. Up rofe fhe frae her cufhioned feat. And tottered like to fa' ; Her cheek grew like the rofe, and then Turned whiter than the wa'. " O Ellen, thraw the cafement up. Let in the air to me ; Look down within the caftle yard, And tell me what you fee." 2i6 Border Minjlreljy. " Your fayther's ftan'nin on the fteps, Your mother's at the door ; Out thro' the poftern comes the train. Lord Dacre rides before. '^ Fu' yauld and gracefu' lichts he doun, Sae does his gallant band ; And low he dofFs his bonnett plume. And fhakes your father's hand. '* Lift, lady, lift ! a bugle note, It foundeth faintly clear ; Up, up ! I fee abune the wa' Your true love's pennon'd fpear." And up fu' quick gat Lady Jean, Nae ailment had fhe mair ; Blyth was her look, and firm her ftep, As ihe ran down the ftair. As thro' amang the apple trees. An' up the walk fhe flew, Untill fhe reached her true love's fide. Her breath fhe fcarcely drew. Lady yean, 217 Lord Dacre fain would fee the bride He fought her bower alone ; And dowf and blunkit grew his looks. When Lady Jean was gone. Sair did her father ftamp and rage, Sair did her mother mourn ; She's up and aff with Umphreville To bonny Otterbourne. Syr John le Sprynge. (Very ancient.) THIS old Ballad occurs in Sharpe's Bifhopric Gar- land, a colledlion of Songs and Ballads publifhed in the beginning of this century. The Knight, who was murdered in the arms of his leman " in his bower at Houghton," as it is headed in Sharpe's Collecftion, would feem to have been a crufader, and had probably fought 'neath the " honour-giving banner" of Richard I. or Edward I. (who in the crufade was wounded by a poifoned dagger). At leaft the verfes hint as much. Ere the waning Crefcent fled ; When the Martyr s palm and golden crown Reward Chryfl^'s foldiers dead. The crefcent was the fymbol of Saladin, and it is on record, that an anceftor of the Percies won a Paynim Syr John le Sprynge. 219 ftandard in fingle fight from the Sultan of Trebizond, and afterwards adopted the cognizance as his own. That Syr John le Sprynge was untrue to his mar- riage vow, is the only fuppofition we can put upon the concluding lines, Lordlings^ mind how your vows you keep. And kifs no leman gay. Infidelity feems to have been his crime ; probably fome of the kinfmen of his infuriated and jealous wife tracked the unfortunate Knight to the bower, and when At dead of night, in the Jofte moonlyght, In his garden bower he lay, they broke in upon the guilty flumbers of the un- guarded Knight. St. George's banner was the " oriflamme " of the Englifh Crufaders, and hence the Ballad ftates that He fell not in the battle field. Beneath St. George's banner bryght. St. George feems to have been the tutelary Saint of Englifh Knights, from the days of King Arthur down- wards. The murdered Knight, it would appear, was buried in the " fouth aifle" of the Church in Houghton ; and until a few years ago, there was in the fouth aifle, the 2 20 Border Minjlreljy. figure of a Knight in armour, in the attitude of prayer; the tomb being curioufly ornamented with fculptures of the Holy Family in niches. Above, on a flab of marble, were his arms, with this folemn infcription, " Praye for the Soule of Syr John le Sprynge." The Knight's family would feem to have been an ancient one, and their caflile was probably at Hough- ton, or near it ; and to this they added their patronymic appellation, calling it Houghton le Spryng, to diftin- guifli it from another town of the fame name, as there are feveral Houghtons in the fliire of Durham. Syr John le Sprynge. RAY for the foule of Syr John le Sprynge, When the black Monks fing, And the vefper bells ring, Pray for the foule of a murdered Knight, Pray for the foule of Sh- John le Spryng. He fell not before the paynim fword. Ere the waning Crefcent fled ; When the martyr's palm and golden crown Reward Chryft's foldiers dead. He fell not in the battle field, Beneath St. George's banner bryght ; When the pealyng cry of vi61:ory. Might cheer the foule of a dying Knyght. 2 22 Border Mmjireljy, But at dead of night, in the foft moonlight, In his garden bower he lay. And the dew of fleepe did his eyelids fteep. In the arms of his leman gay. And by murderous hand, and bloody brand. In that guilty bower, Wyth his paramour, Did his foule from his body fleete, And through mift and mirk and moonlight grey, Was forced away from the bleeding clay. To the dreadful judgment feat. In the fouthermoft aifle his coat of mail, Hangs o'er the marble fhrine ; And his tyltyng fpere is ruftyng there. His helm and his gaberdine. And aye the mafs prieft fings his fong. And patters many a prayer ; And the chaunting bell tolls loud and long, And aye the lamp burns there. And ftill when that guilty night returns. On the eve of Saynt Barnaby bryght. Syr John le Sprynge. 223 The dying taper faintly burns, Wyth a wan and wavering light. And the clammy midnight dew breaks forth. Like drops of agony, From the marble dank, whilft the armour's clank Affrights the prieft on his knee. And high over head, with heavy tread. Unearthly footfteps pafs. For the fpirits of air are gathering there. And mock the holy mafs. Lordlings, mind how your vows you keep," And kifs no leman gay ; For he that finks in fin to (leepe. May never wake to pray. Judge not, finner as thou art. Commune with thy fecret herte, And watch, for thou knowft not the houre. But to Jefus bright, and Mary of might. Pray for the foule of the murdered Knight, That died in the moonlit bower. The Death of Red Eric. THIS Ballad is by Mackay Wilfon, and appeared in his Tales of the Border, January i6, 1836, a few months ere he died. It feems to be an imitation of " Young Lochinvar : " the hero being one of the Delavals, of Seton Delaval, near Blyth, for a de- fcription of whofe family and princely manfion (before it was deftroyed by fire) fee an entertaining account in Howitt's Viiit to Remarkable Places. Red Eric is perhaps the fame Scandinavian adventurer mentioned in the " Death Song of Rognor Lobgrod ;" but the fuppofition is merely conjedlural. The Death of Red Eric. ED ERIC, the Dane, o'er the ocean has come, His courfe was as fleet as the wind driven foam. As the fl:orm rifen fea rufhes wild o'er the ftrand. He has harried the fhores of Northumberland. There was wailing and weeping in cottage and hall, O'er the plundered domain of the Lord Del aval. The gallant young Baron went forth with his train. To bring home the bride to his princely domain ; 'Twas the Lady Editha, fair flower of the Tyne, In beauty how peerlefs, in grace how divine : Oh, ne'er was the maiden in cottage and hall More fair than the bride of the brave Delaval. 2 26 Border Minjlreljy, The bridal train trooped adown Hallowell Dale, The laft rays of funlight ftill gleam'd on their mail, And brightened their banners and fteel headed fpears ; When, hark ! a loud fhout fills each warrior's ears, And the towering flames leap aloft o'er the wall. And whirl round the caftle of Lord Delaval. His vaflals come crowding in tears round their lord. They had fled from the fierce Scandinavian horde ; Their daughters were fliolen, diflionour'd their dames. Their cattle were flaughtered, their roofs were in flames. Thus wretched they knelt, and for vengeance did call On Eric the bloody, from Lord Delaval. Dark red grew his brow, and his glances more keen. He leaped from his fl:eed, and knelt on the green. Then raifing his helm, " May I never," he cried, " Prefs the couch of my Edith, my beautiful bride. If ought elfe I think of, ere vengeance doth fall. On the favage defl:royer of fair Delaval. " On the land, on the ocean, by night or by day. Alone or amid his barbaric array. The Death of Red Eric, 227 The favage defpoilers I fwear to purfue, And my fteel in the breafl: of the Chief to imbrue, Or a blood boltered corfe 'neath his weapon to fall, So fpeed me, St. Cuthbert ! " quo' brave Delaval. Again to her home Lady Edith has gone. And away rode her Lord on his war fteed alone ; He fought every day each cliff on the coaft, For the fhips of the fierce Scandinavian hoft ; And often for vengeance on Eric did call, " Fierce favage, prepare thee to meet Delaval." As the gates of the Abbey of Tynemouth he paffed, The warder was fled, and the gates all were faft ; But a warrior flood near, in bright armour arrayed. Him courteous faluting, brave Delaval faid, " Knowft aught of Red Eric, whom fiends fliall en- thrall. For the woes he has wrought upon fair Delaval ?" " Leave thy fleed, and I'll fliew thee," the flranger he cried ; In an inftant brave Delaval flood by his fide : 2 28 Border Minjlrelfy, " Doft thou fee thofe dark galleys drawn up on the fand. And their crews round their watchfires, that blaze on the ftrand ? Then thefe are the Norfemen that fired yonder hall ; And I am Red Eric, thy foe — Delaval ! " " Ha, ha ! have I caught thee ? " the Baron exclaimed. And forth in the moonlight his faulchion it flamed ; And there all unfeen was brave valour difplayed, As the fun fhould have witnefled, the world have fur- veyed, Oh, ne'er did fuch ftrokes upon habergeon fall, As when bloody Eric fought Lord Delaval. They ftruck and they parried, they wounded and bled. Till the turf that they trampled was flippry and red. Their bucklers were fplintered, their helmets all riven, In their flefh the fharp fragments were wofully driven. Till a heart-fplitting ftab caufed Red Eric to fall. With a howl of defpair 'fore brave Delaval. He has hacked off the head, ere blood ceafed to flow. He has hied to the horde, who are waiting below. The Death of Red Eric, 229 He flung it among them, his war cry he raifed. The Norfemen all rufhed to their galleys amazed ; They have left the loft maidens, their plunder and all. And have fled, terror ftricken, from young Delaval. Nor yet are they fcaped, for a tempeft arofe. And wrecked on the beach Northumberland's foes ; Some perifhed engulphed in the depths of the wave. And fome to the ferfs they had mocked, became flaves. Now his bride in his arms, and his ferfs in his hall. Who, who is fo happy as brave Delaval ? The Laird of Rodin's Daughter. THIS is a fragment of an apparently ancient Ballad, related to me by a lady of Berwick on Tweed, who ufed to fing it in her childhood. I have given all that fhe was able to furnifh me with. The fame lady affures me that fhe never remembers having (Qen it in print, and that fhe had learnt it from her nurfe, together with the Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens and feveral Irilh legends, fince forgotten. The Queen, the miftrefs of Captain Wedderburn, was probably Mary Queen of Scotland. Roflin is fix or feven miles from Edinburgh, and the Laird's man- fion was probably not far from Drummond of Haw- thornden's. The/parrow Jliall toot on his horn. The fparrow is confidered an amorous bird, and the firft to pair on St. Valentine's day — hence the allufion. Laird of Rojlin s Daughter, 231 He anjwered then Jo readily. The cuftom of gaining a mate by folving a riddle is very old. In the Arabian Nights, the Prince of Perfia gains the Sultan of Cafhmere's daughter by anfwering a conundrum. Pericles, Prince of Tyre, difcovers his intended wife's criminality by her riddle ; and Samfon forfeited his Thirty changes of raiment y Of woman never born^ by incautioufly trufting his wife with the anfwer to the riddle, which he had put to his wife's kindred. " If ye had not ploughed with my heifer, ye had not found out my riddle." Julius Csfar owed his exiftence to an operation, which has fince been called after him ; and Shakfpere fpeaks of MacduiF as being " from his mother's womb untimely ripped." The " gentil Englifh Prieft," we may fuppofe was introduced to the world in a fimilar manner. The Laird of Roflin's Daughter. HE Laird of Roflin's daughter Walked thro' the wood her lane ; And by came Captain Wedderburn, A fervant to the Queen. He faid unto his ferving man, " Wer't not agaynft the law, I would tak' her to my ain houfe. As lady o' my ha'," He faid, " My pretty ladye, I pray give me your hand ; You fhall have drums and trumpets Always at your command : Laird of RoJJi?ts Daughter. 233 " With fifty men to guard you, That well their fwords can draw ; And I'll tak ye to my ain bed. And lay you next the wa'. " I'm walking in my feyther's fhaws," Quo he, " my charming Maid, I am much better than I look, So be you not afraid ; " For I ferve the Queen of a' Scotland, And a gentil dame is fhe ; So wefe be married ere the morn. Gin ye can fancy me. " The fparrow fhall toot on his horn, Gif naething us befa'. And I'll mak you up a down bed. And lay you next the wa'," * ^- ^ * * " Now hold away frome me, kind Sir, I pray you let me be ; I wont be lady of your ha'. Till you anfwer queftions three. 2 34 Border Minjlreljy. " Queftions three you niufl anfwer me, And that is one and twa. Before I gae to Woodland's houfe. And be lady o' your ha'. " You mull get me to my fupper A chicken without a bone, You muft get me to my fupper A cherry without a Hone. " You mull get me to my fupper A bird without a ga' ; Before I go to Woodland's houfe. And be lady of your ha'." *' When the cherry is in the bloom, I'm fure it has no Hone, When the chicken's in the Ihell, I'm fure it has nae bone ; *' The dove fhe is a gentil bird. And flies without a ga' ; So I've anfwer'd you your queftions three. And you're lady of my ha'." * * * « * Laird of RoJJms Daughter. 235 " Queftions three you muft anfwer me, What's higher than the trees ? And what Is worfe than Woman's voice ? What's deeper than the feas ?" He anfwered then fo readily, ** Heaven's higher than the trees. The devil's worfe than woman's voice. Hell's deeper than the feas." " One queftlon ftill you muft anfwer me. Or you I laugh to fcorn ; Go feek me out an Engllfh prieft Of woman never born ?" *' Oh then," quo he, " my young brother From mother's fide was torn ; And he's a gentll Engllfh prieft. Of woman never born." ***** Little did this lady think. That morning when ftie ralfe. It was to be the very laft Of all her mayden days. * * Loudon Jock's Courtfliip. A VERY OLD Ballad, now for the first time PUBLISHED. THIS is original as far as 1 have been able to dif- cover. I took it down from the recital of an old drover, called A. Pringle, who attended Kelfo Market. It reprefents the foray of a freebooter ; and the circumftances mentioned in the Ballad, are fuch as we may confider likely to have occurred in a " raid," made by a freebooter of little note. The flaying a bullock was one of the means reforted to, to baffle the fagacity of the bloodhound, as neither perfuafions nor threats could induce the hound to continue the purfuit when once it had lapped blood, its fine and acute fenfe of fmell being then deftroyed. The promife of a fet of bells to the Abbot of Mel- rofe is highly chara<5leriftic of the Borderer of the Loudon yock^s CourtJJjip. 237 time. In the Chronicles of Weftmoreland, pubhfhed by a humble Bard, we find that " one Befwlck, a lifter of cattle, was returning over Brough Fells with fome kye he had ftolen, and on their making a great rowting (bellowing), he promifed in his heart to make their voices heard over hill and dale for many a long year, that folks fhould remember ^ Befwick's Raid.' He kept his vow, and transformed the ^ kye' to a fine fet of bells, which adorn the fteeple of Brough Church ; and when the people hear the Brough bells ring, they fay ^ There's Befwick's kye rowting.'" The circum- stance of Old Scot of Harden ferving up a pair of fpurs in a difh, is mentioned by Sir Walter Scott in his Minftrelfy. Jock o' the Loudons muft have been a true Bor- derer and mofs-trooper. Thefe men retained in their wild glens and forefls all the manners and indomitable courage of the early Britons ; they were moftly di- vided into Clans, each commanded by fome Chief of celebrity, at the found of whofe war cry they readily afTembled. Amongfl thefe freebooters were feveral of a broken clan, who owned no fealty to any par- ticular Chief, except where interefl or humour fwayed them : and it was a perfedt matter of indifference to them, whether they preyed on the property of their neighbours or on the frontier ; every man's hand being againfl them and theirs againfl all. Where fecurity. 238 Border MinJ} reify. plenty, and helpleflnefs offered to the freebooter an eafy raid, he cared not on whom the lofs might ah'ght. In the reign of Edward I. and II. rapine, murder, and bloodfhed reigned on the Borders ; and to fo alarming an extent had the evil reached, that to fup- prefs thefe wild and turbulent doings officers were cre- ated with the title of Warden of the Marches, which were divided into three, the Wellern, the Middle, and the Eaftern. The " hot trail," or " hot trod," was a gathering together of the wronged perfon's kinfmen, for the purpofe of purfuit, " maintained with a lighted piece of turf carried on a fpear, with hue and cry, bugle and blood hound ; " and all who heard the alarm were compelled to join in the chafe. Smailholm is fix miles from Kelfo, and on a fmall eminence to the fouth-weft, is the "Smailholm Tower," where Scott paffed fome of the happieft days of his childhood. Earlftoune is the birthplace of the cele- brated " Thomas the Rhymer," of whofe manfion only the ruined " gable" remains. Sic tranfit gloria mundi. The fecond part of" Loudon Jock" narrates the woful courtfhip of the hero, and merely illuftrates the facility with which the marriage knot may be tied In Scotland. Loudon Jock's Courtfhip. H its Jock of the Loudonswas a reiver fobold, And his tower was built upon Earlftane burn. Nae plenifh had he, na ftots or na queys, Na dancing at harveft, or feafting at kirn. In the mift o' the nights he wad mount on his fteed. And a wheen dare deevils had bauld Loudon Jock ; Thro Earlftane Row would they fpatter like wud. When they gaed on their reivings, their mailing to ftock. I ken na gif he was like auld Scot o' Harden, Wha ferved up his fpurs whan kail brofe was there nane ; But Jock o' the Loudons was a mettlefome Billie, That wad lived on a rock, and get milk frae a ftane. 240 Border Mijijlrelfy. By Sproufton there lived on a haugh a' fouth farmer, Ca'd Tarn o' the Ladle, becaufe he loe'd kail ; Away in the mift rode Jock and his fallows, To lift every horn and to feife ilka tail. They forded the Tweed in the thick o* the nicht. When a hand's breath na billie his fallow could fee. And gude fortune It caft them upon the far fhore. Where Tam o' the Ladle's nowtes lay on the lea. Jock raked them thegither — by break o* the day. He was o'er Smailholm hills and near hand to his hame. When the bloodhound's loud bay cam alang on the wind. And was fcenting the reiver like a poynter his game. " The de'il tak thy throat now, thou lubberly tyke," Cried Jock o' the Loudons, " my gear maun I tyne." Quo Slippery Blaylock, " Gie me a fat owzen. And ril fhew you a plifkie we ance play'd lang fyne.'' Loudon yocKs Courtpjip. 241 " The beft o' the drove, if ye fave all the reft." Lang Blaylock he tuke Loudon Jock at his word, And he up wi' the poleaxe and ftrak 'tween the horns, And the nowte like a maukin fell dead on the yird ; He whipt out his knife and he cuttit its throat. And they left it to bleed as they banged o'er the lea ; "Gin the mift keep this thick, I gain Makerftoun ford. And I'll gie a rich prefent to Melrofe Abbey." The nowte rowted once, the nowte rowted twice. Cried Jock in his fright, " Gin ye na rowte the mair, I'll gie half o' the drove to the Abbot o' Melrofe, To buy tower bells that they jouk in the air." Tarn Ladle, and Gumphery Diccon, Hugh Sprattle, Lang Harry o' Birgham and Ralph o' the Knowes, Cam dafhing alang, wi' the blood hounds and hot trod, Turf bleezing on fpears, wi' fwords and wi' bowes. The blood hound he bayed, and the blood hound he lap. Till he fell o'er the ftot that lay bleeding to dead ; His errand was dune, the blood it was fpilled, Deil ftap the foot mair wad the blood hound proceed. R 242 Border M'mft reify. Jock got to his tower ; in fafety ance mair. He fair rued the bargain he made wi' the prieft ; When fafc from the blood hound, he jagged wi' a fpear That they rowted to fave them, the hide o' each beaft. " The deil tak fie varment," quo Jock as he thocht on't, " How foon do ye tak a poor chield at his price ; But gin I had thocht ye wade rowted nae mair. To gie half away, firs, gude faith I was nice." Part Second. TOCK lifted, and fought, gat in mony a fcrape. But it was all the fame thing to this rattling chiel. He wad aye fpoil the horn, or elfe mak a fpoon. The crown o' the caufey, a kirk or a mill. He rade into Embro wi' gowd in his pouch. To look at the ferlies and houfes fae grand ; The cafl:le, and Holyrood, the lang walk o' Leith, Great joy for his coming foon Loudon Jock fand. Loudon JocKs Courtfhip. 243 'Twas firft hae this gill, and then aye anither. Sine bottles of fmall yill, and baups for his Kite ; And then cam' the feyther o't, iifter and brither. And Jock ftoited awa' at the heel o' the night. Jock met wi' a hizzy upon the high brig. That looks o'er the yird, as he ftoited away ; Jock aye lo'ed a blink o' a bonnie girl's eye. And fhe fpeered at the reiver his fortune to fpae. But Jock cam to queftions, and being a fallow- Stout, buirdly, and fonfy, he foon pleafed her tafte ; And awa' went the twofome haup jaup in their daffin. Thro wynds and blind alleys no time for to wafte. Scarce into the bed when the auld town guard rappit, Jock banged oure the fheets, thocht the fhirra' was there ; " It's no but the guard cam here for to prie," And fure eneuch hirplin they flumped up the ftair. " What the deil fall we do now ? " quo Jock in a heezy, " They'll hae us to the Tolbooth for houghing our lane;" 244 Border Minjlreljy. " Hoot Billie, not fae," replyit the wanton, " Juft fwear yere my gudeman, and fwith they are gane." The auld guard cam ben, fays one, " Wha's this woman ? His leman nae doot, but I'fe harry her tail ;" " It's me and my gudewifye, fin ye want to ken oo't, Came here for a jaunt frae the waters o' ale." "Your married wyfe is't?" "O, aye," quo Jock leuching. " O gin we had kent that," faid one wi' a bow ; " But tent ye my billie gin ye are nae married. Or ne'er had a wyfe, yefe gotten one noo." Jock gat up in the morning well pleafed wi' his bargain. And tendered the hizzie fome gowd for the cruife ; " Nay, billie," quo fhe, " ye ken 1 am your gudewife, Sae tak' care o' the filler to plenifh the houfe." " The deil's in the jaud," then Loudon Jock faid, But fhe threep't fhe was marry 't wi' fie a loud din ; Jock flang down the money, and lap on his horfe ; Gude faith but the gipfy was as far nor' as him. She fee'd a grand writer, and Jock he was fummoned. For the town guard were witnefs he faid fcho was wed ; Loudon yoclis Courtjljip. 245 (C If ]yin in bed is to marry, I muft, I'll gie her fae muckle to leave me," he faid. But ne'er a fit wad the young gipfy gan back, " She was married," fhe faid, " and fhe wanted nae gear; He had wyfed her, what matter in toll or in bed, The tae was the tither, in fpite o' all lear." " I might had the pick of Roxburgh, and the Merfe, Northumberland's dawties, for Lammerton toll ; Been wyfit at Caudftream, at Paxton or Hutton, And now to be trapped by an auld wyfes fhe foal." Jock gaed away hame, where he reivit and robbet, Grew aulder and aulder, tho' flifFer and fair ; He foon fand the want o' a huzzy to nurfe him. And his thochts gaed to Embro each Winter the mair. Till at laft he took hame the braw lafs he had bedded. Quo he, " I may well tak the ufe o' mine ain ; " And mony braw fellows and winfome young lafTes, Begot from this marriage in the countra' remain. The Two Rofes. nr^HIS is a very ancient fragment. I obtained it -*- from a gentleman at Hexham, with the afTurance that it had been in his family for " many, many years." Another gentleman who pofTefTes confiderable antiqua- rian knowledge believes it to be the produdion of one Skelton, who flourifhed in the reign of Henry VII. It is indeed a gem ; and I have not the leaft hefitation in affirming that it was the commencement of a long and beautiful Ballad, if we may judge of the wine by the lees that are left, according to Phasdrus, or as fculptors of the prefent day guefs at the vaft propor- tions and faultlefs fhape of a figure of the Parthenon, by a fragment of its nofe or arm in their poiTeffion. Skelton flourifhed in 1497. He was patronifed by Henry fifth Earl of Northumberland, on whofe death he wrote an elegy. The battle of Flodden took place fixteen years after the fuppofed date of this fragment, which enumerates the principal fields of blood, Hex- ham, Wakefield Green, and Towton, " The Englifh Pharfalia." The Two Rofes. S I lay half wyfe fleeping. In a pleached garden, Befeemed there was a nytingale To a rofe bufh told this tale : Fayre rofe bufh that groweth here. Did ever nature from thy briar, Give thee two wolves of white and redde. To tear each other's throats in fpeed ? White Rofe, in likenefs heaven's lily. That in brook its grace fhall fee ; Thou are the lillie perdie. Thy beautie makes modeftie. 248 Border Minji reify. Lucklefs foules by thee have fhent, Thys earth for heaven's bent. To keepe thee dauncing topmoft hyghte, The Red Rofe hath flain the Whyte. It was Saynt Albany's fatal ftryfe, Depryved me of brother's lyfe ; It was at Wakefyld's bleaching green, Two brothers loft, hard fate befeem. But Hexhame took my ounly fonne, Oh Chryft, goodnefs to thee be donne ; To lofe thy lyfe on the Border, Croul fates, it was murther. Oh Redde Rofe, fo crimfonlee, Wafhid in blood of enmitie. Nor can I mynftrelle to the Whyte, Its leavis are blanche wyth affryhte. For York eke Lancafteere, Have fallen in battlye mony fere. But Towton — och Pharfale, This bloody ftiew pale maketh thee. The Two Rofes, 249 The bonde of Adamme is fhoare. Never contentyon grypps more ; Devylls iyght here * * * * Hell hath for this no compere. Oh Redde Rofe, oh redde, fweet redde, Bloflbme over the deade ; Oh whyte, fweete, fweete whyte, Gif to my hertis fome delyghtt. To be more in feafone, Withy myne gryfe * * * * * # # * Grizzy Cochrane. THIS Ballad commemorates the matchlefs devo- tion and indomitable courage of Grizel Cochrane, when the tyranny and bigotry of James VI. towards his Scottifh fubjefls, forced them to take up arms for the redrefTal of their grievances. One of the moft for- midable rioters as well as moft prominent adlors in Argyle's Rebellion, was Sir John Cochrane, anceftor of the prefent Earl of Dundonald. For ages a de- ftrudive doom feems to have hung over the houfe of Campbell, enveloping in one common ruin all who united their fortunes in the caufe of its Chieftains. The fame doom befell Sir John Cochrane ; for he was furrounded by the King's troops, and though he made a defperate refiftance, was overpowered and con- veyed to prifon in Edinburgh. His trial was brief, the judgment decifive, and the jailor waited but the arrival of his death warrant from London to lead him forth to execution, when Grizel Cochrane, the Grizzy Cochrane. 251 pride of his life, and the noble daughter of his houfe, determined on refcuing her father from the fcaffold. Having received his bleffing, fhe wended her fohtary way to Berwick, difguifed in a palmer's weeds : and robbed the man of the London Mail as defcribed in the Ballad. Every exertion was made to difcover the robber, but in vain. Three days had pafled : Sir John Cochrane yet lived, and before another order for his execution could reach Edinburgh, the intercef- fion of his father, the Earl of Dundonald, with the King's ConfefTor might be fuccefsful. Grizel now became his only companion in prifon, and fpoke to him words of comfort. Nearly fourteen days had now elapfed fince the commiffion of the robbery, and pro- traded hope began to make fick the heart of the prifoner. The intercefTion of Dundonald had been unfuccefsful, and a fecond time the bigoted and de- fpotic monarch figned the warrant for Cochrane's death. " The will of Heaven be done," exclaimed the noble- man, when the jailor Informed his prifoner of the cir- cumftance. " Amen," faid the heroic Grizzy with wild vehemence ; " but my father /m// not die." To fave him, as the Ballad informs us. She aiblins kenned a way. Hep mafculine garments were again in requifitlon ; again the rider had almoft gained the Moor of Tweed- 252 Border MinJIrelJy. mouth, bearing with him the doom of Cochrane ; but Grizzy was at her poft, and again defpoiled him of his packet. By this fecond robbery Grizzy infured her father's life for fourteen days, the time then neceflary to ride between London and the Scottifh metropohs. But on this occafion, Dundonald and feveral Lords of great worth and confideration, ufed the time fo effec- tually, that Sir John Cochrane was liberated and par- doned. Grizel Cochrane, whofe heroic condud and filial affedion we have imperfedly fketched, was, according to tradition, the great grandmother of the late Sir John Stuart of Allanbank, and great great grandmother of the celebrated Mr. Coutts, the Banker; but a few years ago the author of the Border Tales received a letter from Sir Hugh Stuart, fon of Sir John, ftating that his family would be glad to have fuch a heroine as Grizel conneded with their genealogy ; but that they were unable to prove fuch connexion. A few miles from Belford may yet be feen a folitary clump of fir trees, walled round, and ftanding by the road fide, which is yet called " Grizzy's clump," and pointed out as part of the thicket from whence Cochrane's bonny dochter fired on the carrier of the mail. We have loft much of the wifdom of our anceftors, and amongft other matters, the folly of fending one horfe- man with the mail, who had already been defpoiled of his charge. Grizzy Cochrane, 253 The warlocks are dancing threejome reels, Gofwick Links, Kyloe Hills, Lowlinns, &c. are places in the immediate vicinity of Grizzy's Clump. I am not aware that this Ballad was ever printed before, nor have I any knowledge if a Ballad on the fame fubjedl exifts. Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy. ISTEN now baith great and femple, Whilft I croon to you my fang. Ere fuchan anither damfell peers. The world will ceafe to wag ere lang : For fhe is the flower o'er a' the bower. My bleflings on Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy. Her feyther lay lang in the Embro jail, Wearin faft to his end, For his head maun be fwept clean frae his fliouthers. When the warrant the King fhall fend ; Singing waes me, wi' the tear in her e'e, Did Cochrane's bonny dochter mourn. Grizzy Cochrane. 255 She kift her feyther's lyart locks. Unkempt for mony a day ; And fhe faid, " To fave my feyther's life, I aiblins ken a way : Gie me thy luve, that I fortune prove ? " Quo Cochrane's bonny dochter. She rode awa' thro' the ftraggling toun. Of beggart Hadingtoun, Syne by Dunbar, thro' the Copperfmith, Till to Berwick fhe has come : And fhe rappit ryghte loud on the barred gates. Did Cochrane's bonny dochter. She flept all night, and fhe rofe betimes, And crofs'd the lang brig o' the Tweed ; And ouer the moor at Tweedmouth brae, Sair dragglit was her woman's weed ; And lightin doun by Haggerfton Shaws, Did Cochrane's bonny Grizzy. A cloak fhe drew frae her faddle bag, Wi' trunks and a doublet fayre. 256 Border Minjireljy, She cut off wi' a faulding knife. Her long and raven hair ; And fhe dreffed herfelf in laddies claiths. Did Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy. The horfeman rode intill Belford toun, Wha' carry 't the London Mail, Bauld Grizzy ihe fought the hoftel out. And there wi* a couthy tale. Forgathered wi' the London poft. Did Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy. She roared the loudeft af them a'. Quo the fallow, " My canty chiel, Deil blaw my pipes yere the crack o' the wa,' And the beft amang the hail." In the dead of night did they gang to their beds. And fo gaed Cochrane's dochter. She rofe ower the bed, ere the fecond cock. Went jimply alang the floor; She's ftown her fayther's death warrant, Whilft the lubbert loud did fnore. She's gained the hills ere the hue and cry They raifit on Cochrane's dochter. Cochrane s Bo?i7iy Grizzy. 257 But the King can write anither brief, For a' the iirft be flown ; And once again the fallow rode, Wi' the warrant frae London town : Now out and alas, what can fhe do ? For the heart o' Grizzy fank. The red fun went down o'er the fea, And the wind blew ftifFand fnell, And as it fhot by Grizzy 's lugs. It founded auld Cochran's knell ; " But downa defpair, 'tis a kittle carle," Said Cochrane's bonny dochter. The larch and the tall fir fhrieked wi' pain, As they bent before in the wind. And down there fell the heavy rain. Till fenfe and e'en were blind ; " A lang night 'tis ne'er fees a day," Quoth Cochran's undaunted Grizzy. The warlocks are dancing threefome reels. On Gofwick's haunted links, The red fire fhoots by Ladythorne, And Tarn wi' the lanthorn fa's and iinks ; s 258 Border Mi7ijl reify. On Kyloe's hills there's awfu' founds. But they frighted not Cochrane's Grizzy. The moon beams fhot from the troubled fky, In glints o' flickerin light, The horfeman cam Ikelping thro' the mire, For his mind was in affright ; His piftol cocked he held in his hand. But the fient a fear had Grizzy. As he cam' fornenft the Fenwicke woods. From the whin bufhes fhot out a flame ; His dappled filly reared up in affright. And backward over he came ; There's a hand on his craig, and a foot on his mouth, Twas Cochran's Bonny Grizzy. " I will not tak thy life," fhe faid, " But gie me thy London news ; No blood of thine fhall fyle my blade. Gin me ye dinna refufe : " She's prie'd the warrant, and away fhe flew, Wi' the fpeed and ftrength o' the wild curlew. Cochrane s Bonny Grizzy. 259 Love will make a foe grow kind, Love will bring bloflbm where bud is naught, Love hath foftened a kingly mind ; Grizzy hath mercy to councillors taught. Her friends at court have prieven the life O' Grizzy's banifhed feyther. She's wedded unto a German knicht. Her bairnies blyth wi' her fire remain. She's cuft the laddies cloots awa. And her raven hair is growing again. What think ye, gentles o' every degree, Of Cochrane's Bonny Grizzy ? Earl Moray's Capture. WHEN David King of Scotland, and fon of the Bruce, returned from France to his own terri- tories, about the year 1342, he was informed that dur- ing his abfence his people had fufFered much from the infolence of the EngUfh. Raifing a large army, he gave the command thereof to Randolph Earl of Moray, who by way of reprifal made a hoftile incurfion into England, and laying wafte the villages through which he pafled, reached the Tyne and forthwith befieged Newcaftle. The command of the fortrefs at that time was entrufted to Sir John de Neville, a brave and chivalrous knight, as the following inftance of daring fkill and gallantry will prove. Taking advantage of a thunder ftorm, which occurred at midnight, fhortly after the arrival of the befiegers, the heroic leader fallied forth with two hundred fpears, rufhed into the enemy's camp, feized the Earl Moray while in bed, and Rarl Moray's Capture, 261 bore him a prifoner to the town. This bold achieve- ment aroufed the moft vindidive hoftility on the part of the Scots, who on the following day renewed their attack on the walls with great vigour ; but owing to the promptitude and intrepidity of the defenders they were beaten off and compelled to raife the fiege. Ad- vancing fouthward they exercifed uncommon feverity on the city of Durham, taking it and reducing it to afhes, and putting to the fword the whole of its de- fencelefs inhabitants. See Froijfart. Brand. DiSin's Northern 'Tour. The above mentioned Ballad is remodelled from a few verfes that appeared in the "Table Book;" I have woven fome of thofe ftanzas into mine, and rejected others ; the incident of Sir John de Neville threatening to hang his prifoner on the lanthorn of St. Nicholas' Church, occurred in the reign of Charles, when the governor actually menaced with this igno- minious punifhment a Scotch General taken in aflault. And Jw ore upon their fworde. No oath was recognifed as fo binding and folemn as one fworn on the fword ; when the Chevalier Bayard was dying he thruft his fword into the earth, and gaz- ing on the crofs hilts of his " honour giving" blade, fo expired. The hilts were prefTed to the lips of the takers of the oath and kified, as being fymbolical of the crofs 262 Border Minjireljy. of our Saviour. So Hamlet fays. Swear by my /word. Act I. Scene v. The King at Prudhoe Cafile Jlept . Prudhoe Caftle, is ten miles up the river, on the left bank of the Tyne. The Ian thorn was the fatal he am. Saint Nicholas is famed for the airinefs, beauty, and lightnefs of the huge lanthorn which crowns its fum- mit, being one hundred and ninety-three feet from the bafe of the building. Earl Moray's gallows in regard to height would have fhamed the lofty gibbet of Haman. To hang his father s fere. Moray had been the conftant companion in arms of the Bruce, and commanded the left wing of the Scottifh army at the battle of Bannockburn. Earl Moray's Capture. HE Bruce's fonne he came from Fraunce, Unto his own fayre land ; When divers knights they kneeled to hym, And fayd, " King of Scotlande, " Thy people from the fouthron knaves Do fuffer fcaith and fcorne ; " Quo David, " I trow their fhamelefs boaft Sail not by us be borne. " Earl Moray's to the Border gone With fifteen thoufand men ; Manye a widow weeps her fonne. In hamlette and in glenn." 264 Border Minjlrelfy. He layed the countrie wafte arounde. From the Tyne to colde Berwicke ; Withyn that ryde you would not fee A houfe, a ftone, or ftick. The Kinge cam' to Newcaftle toune. Where Syr John the Neville fted. And fayd, '* Come give thy keys to me. Or woe on thy fouthron's head." The walls were eathe to fcale I trow, The Scots were putte to rowte ; Syr John he cried, " Come crack this nutte. And pick the kernel out." A ftirring day of warfare pafTed ; The fonnes laft troubled beam Fell redly o'er Saynt Nicholaffe, And Tyne's black coaly ftreme. Then rayne fell, loud the thunder growled, And the levin's flafhing light. With bolts of ruddy fire, dafhed Into the darkened night. Earl Moray s Capture, 265 Out fpoke the noble Neville then, Amongft his warriors tall, As they fat o'er the watch fire. In the Caftle's loftie halle. " Methynks in fuch a night as this. It were a fitting thing To rufh within the Scottifh camp. And try to feize their Kinge. " Who'll go with me ? for I will ride." " Nay, uncle, 111 make one," Out cried his kinfman Errington, And fo his fyfter's fonne. And not a manne of them fayd nay. When Neville gave the worde ; Then they plucked out the berry blades. And fwore upon their fword. Then there was buckling on of arms. And rivetting of mayl ; The caftle walls rocked in the blaft, So heavy was the gale. 266 Border Minjl reify. Syr John upon his fleet charger By the new gate appears. And billmen, pikes, and fpearmen come. Full twice one hundred fpears. He led them from Newcaftle walls. Their fl:eppes they picked with care. The raine felle thick, the thunder growled. And battled in the aire. The Scots lay by the Barras bridge, Wyth not a twinkling light ; The falling raine put out the fires. So fellie was the nighte. " Now every maun for his good King, And for his ladye love, Grafp your good fword, and on the Scots, In filence deftly move." " Moray, awake ! the Southrons come, Their fpears are in thy camp ; Hearefl thou not their whifpering ? And hark their martial tramp ! " Rarl Moray's Capture. 267 A fhout and fhriek of wild difmay, As each Southron fword was plied ; And many a naked Scot was flain. Sore flafhed at the midnight tide. The Neville like ane lion foughte, Styll on Syr John he went, O'er cloven fkull and pierced mayling. And won the Moray's tent. Four of Earl Moray's chamberlayns Fell by Syr John his fteele ; The edge and force of Moray's blade. Three Englifhmen did feel. Syr John he lap out owre the dead. With fwifte and ady ve bound ; But the fpearmen clofed around the Earl, And bore him to the ground. The Kynge at Prudhoe Caftle flept. For had he prefent been, Syr John would ta'en hym prifoner. As Moray was that e'en. 268 Border M'mjl reify. They fette the Moray on a fteed, Guarded on ilka fyde, With levelled fpear and ready hande. The watchful fpearmen ryde. " Our foes are roufing from their fleep," Thus did the Neville fay ; " Better to flee than fight at odds," And fo they took their way. As through the grove the whirlwind fweeps, With all fubduing force, The ftrongeft oaks, the tallefl; pines. Uprooting in its courfe : So thro the Scottifh puiflance. Of the mad advancing foe. Keeping at bay Kynge David's powers, The Southron horfemen go. No time is this to chink the cup. The Scotch are at the walls ; " Up, up, and meet them merrily, Syr John the Neville calls." Earl Moray s Capture. 269 Portcullifes and drawbridges ftond, And eke each poftern doore, Firm as could oake and bars of fteel, Amid a fiege fo fore. King David led his blue caps on. To mount the rampart walle. No whit afraid, they climb the ftones, Tho' flricken down they fall. There is the fhout and roar of menne, Whilft on each Scotfman's heade. The burghers with their naked arms Pour melted pitch and lead. Bricks, mickle ftones, and blocks of wood, On bleeding knights defcend ; God of his mercy, trompettes founde. This cruel ftryfe to end. The baulks of woode and tall ladders. Are thrown from tower and walle. And wounded menne with ugfome dint. Below in torment crawle. 270 Border Minjlrelfy, Sounde agayn trompette, 'tis a parle, Syr John will yield the gate ; There came a voice from off the wall, " I greet the Kyng his ftate." " Gin he not leaves Newcaftle towne, I fweare by God his grace, I'll hang Earl Moray by the neck. From ofFSaynt NicholafTe." Kyng David flood in rage awhyle. Then founded from the walle ; Sir John he took the Moray then, Up belfry ftayres foe talle. They mounted up the toilfome ftayres. And ftepped on the Church toppe ; The lanthorn was the fatal beam. And from it there hung a rope. Earl Moray glanced out oure the wall. And fhudderit at the height ; Syr John he faid, " A fearful waye Unto a tender fight." Earl Moray s Capture, 271 " It takes a manne fulle ten minutes Up yon fteep ftayres to go, And yette within one moment's fpace, You maye winne downe belowe. " For by the holie Chryft I fweare, Not hating thee for wronge, If on the walJes there mounts a Scotte, That moment thou fhalt honge." King David faw the rope prepared. To hang his father's fere ; So he raifed the fiege of Newcaftle, And drew ofFe bowe and fpeare. He followed out a fheer revenge, And harried Durham's citie ; Burnt houfe and holme to white afhes, And murdered all ! fad pitie. The Merchant's Garland. THIS is a verfion of a popular old Ballad, for- merly in great circulation in this part of the king- dom. It was headed " The Fador's Garland, a pathetic hiftory, giving an account of an Engllili fadtor in Turkey, who feeing the dead body of a Chriftian lying in the ftreets, and refufed burial, caufes it to be interred. He alfo refcues a beautiful young flave about to be ftrangled, and brings her to his houfe in London, and makes her his houfekeeper : the young woman turns out to be a foreign princefs. The fador is caft on a defolate ifland, from whence he is afterwards refcued by the arrival of a fupernatural looking being in a boat, who turns out to be the ghoft of the Chrif- tian whofe body he buried in Turkey ; the fador's arrival at the princefs's court ; his reception ; marriage, &c. together with the reappearance of the ghoft." The old Ballad was publifhed about one hundred years ago. The writer has feen it in a colledion of The Merchant's Garla?id. 27 o fongs printed at London, 1738. " The intrinfic merit and intereft of the Ballad," (fo fays the note to the original Lyric), '-'^ may be admitted as a fufficient apo- logy for its republication." The hero of my verfion is a gentleman of whom I am bound by ties of gratitude to fpeak kindly. l!his bo die was a Chrijiian dog's. Probably of one who had died, leaving no effedls to cover the expenfe of his funeral. To ftr angle her on the JJiad. " About two months ago there was found at day- break, the bleeding body of a young woman, naked, with two wounds of a knife, one in her iide the other in her breaft. She was not quite cold, and fo beautiful, that there were very few men in Pera that did not go to look upon her." Fide, Travels in Europe and Afia, by Lady Mary W. Montagu. But his limbs frae the hunds Pllfave. All eaftern travellers aflert that the vulture and dog are the only fcavengers in Turkifh cities. The Merchant's Garland. YR Carnegie's gane owre the Tea, And's plowing thro' the main. And now muft make a lang voyage. The red gold for to gain. Now woe befall the cogging die. And weary the painted beuks ; A Chriftian curfe go with all naigs. And eke all hounds and cocks. Three merchants of great London town, To fave the youth were bent ; And they fent him as fador to Turkifh ground. For the gaming has hym jfhent. The Mercha?2ts Garland. 275 Walking one night in the Turkey ftreet. He faw a dead carcafe lie ; And {peered the reafon for that, I wifle, When they gave him this reply : " This bodie was a Chriftian dog's, And the burial is not paid ; " " What is your burial ?" quo Carnegie, " Full fifty merks," they faid. " 'Tis a great fum," quo Carnegie, " But his limbs from the hunds I'll fave ; There's thy gowd, fhall it ever be faid A Chriftian wanted a grave ? " He walked away to the river's fide. And a damfel fhe wept full fad ; Two flaves with a fack fl:ood by her fide. To ftrangle her on the fiiad. She caught a blink o' Carnegie, And in agony fhe faid, " If ever you wifii to fleep in God, Oh, fave a haplefs maid ! " 276 Border Mi?ijlreljy. It moved him fore, and he ftay'd the fack, " What is her price, good fir ? " " A hundred merks," the Turk replied, " And that will ranfom her." He faid, " I have but ninety merks, Take that and let her live." " A hundred merks you muft pay down. Or elfe there's no reprieve." He tried him for this young maid's life. With fpeech and piteous worde ; " But nathlefs all," he fayd, " I wifTe I maun the gowd afford. '' I have ten merks hangs by my fide, All in my fheath of fleele." *' Then give it me ? — " quo Carnegie, " Tak it in name o' the deil." He ftruck a blow with his good whinger. There needed no fecond one ; And on the caufey of the ftreet, There rolled a fiiaven crown. The Merchant's Garland. 277 " Gin I had thought my gude whinger, Wad quieted ye fo foon, I fhould have faved my ninety merks, And eke my breath, ye loon. " Dry up your tears, my bonny mayd. For your enemy is flain ; And I muft feek my fhip with fpeed. And crofs the raging main." She faid, " I thank you, noble Sir, And to England let me go. You've faved me from a cruel death. Some further kindnefs fhew." He brought her unto London town. And taught her the hufwife trade ; She kept the keys of his accounts. And a willing clerk fhe made. But Carnegie muft go once more. The failor's chance to take ; And to the coaft of fair Tunis Another voyage make. 278 Border Alinjireljy, She fewed for him a flower'd veft. And doublet fo Hght and fayre ; " Dear Mafter, if you go to court, I pray, thefe garments weare." " Tell me the meaning of thy worde," And he preed her honey mou' ; " Time that tells all will fhew you this, " But fee that my bidding you do." Fytte Second. ^ARNEGIE failed o'er the faeme, ^^ In the fpring time of the year ; And this fair maid faw him depart. With meikle hope and fear. They made the land on a good Sunday, And failed into Tunis port ; He took fome prefents of rich value. And went to the Prince's Court, The Merchant' s Garland. 279 The Prince looked hard on Carnegie, And faid with a troubled air ; " Chriftian, who flowered you the veft, I fee that now you wear ? " " A fair maiden ; I faved her life From flaves on Turkifh erthe ; And carried herr to fayre London, Not kenning of her birth. " She knew I fay led to Tunis port. And gave this charge to me. That if I came to your palace. This vefl: I fhould lett you fee." The Prince outcried, *' Behold this robe, *Tis of the fame fpot and flower ; One hand few'd both, my daughter's dear. Now blefled be this hour. " Three years are pafl; fince did flie go. To her uncle o'er the wave ; We thought her buried in the fea. Or captured for a flave. 2 8o Border Minjlreljy. " Her mother wept her life away. For the child that fhe thought dead ; And for her lofs, of briny tears A fountain hath been fhed. " Now hoy ft thy fnowy fails with fpeed ; And becaufe thou haft faved her life, I'll give thee a cheft of jewels and gold. And ftie ftiall be thy wife. " And if thou fhould'ft not haply live. Who ever brings her me. That man fhall have a thoufand pounds. Her rich bridegroom to be." They fet fail to fayr London town. Him and his rich convoy ; And arrived fafe in the Thames river, Withouten any annoy. He ftraight unto the Princefs went. And told her the wondrous news. How he was to wed her, if his hand The mayd wad not refufe. The Merchant's Garland. 281 " Wert thou a beggar poor e'en now, I would become thy wife ; For when they would have ftrangled me. You faved my precious life. " I ne'er forgot the true token Of your moft generous love. All men upon this rolling earth, I prize you. Sir, above. *' Soe honey, love, fell off your goods. And let us o'er the main ; For wyth a daughter's love, I needs Wad fee my (ire again." The fhip fayled once, the fhip fayled twyce. Out owre the ocean wide ; When the wicked captain plotted how To make this maid his bride. 282 Border Minjl reify. Fytte Third. /^NE night when all were fail afleep, ^"'^ He felzed on Carnegie ; And heaved him quickly overboard, Intill the ruffled fea. He watched the bubbles as they rofe. As Carnegie fank in the brine ; The fhip plowed on, and the captain faid, " This Princefs now is meyne." Daylight came out on the fea. When the Princefs waked from fleep ; The captain faid, " Your dear hufband Is fallen into the deep." The tears flowed from her violet eyes. As he faid, " Fair lady, 'tis fo ; But all menne are not Carnegie :" But ihe fwoofed awa' in woe. The Mercha?tts Garland, 283 She went unto her father's court. And kiffing her he feth ; " Is this the gallant Scottifman, That refcued you from death ? " Then fay'd the wicked captain wight, " Sir, as we fell afleep. He rofe to tafte the caller air. And was drowned in the deep." " Alas ! my woe, and is it fo ?" " Your Grace," the traytor faid, " Has fworn to wed her to that man. That broughten home the mayd." " That was my oath," then faid the Prince, " And thou muft be his bride." " Grant me then forty days to mourn," The weeping Princefs cried. She mourned the noble Carnegie, And bowed her lovely head ; But the fates had better cheer in ftore. For her hufbande was not dead. 284 Border Mi7tjireljy. He woke 'mid the waters of the deep. When thrown out from the fchip. And fwam about untill day light, Tho' the waters touched his lip. He faw afar a defert ifle. And fwam for good dry land : Tho' never he ftrove fo much in his life. As did he to gain that ftrand. In this defert ifle the merchant lay. With not a fhip in view. When he efpied a wee old man. Paddling in a canoe. He hailed the wee old manny fair, Untill he ceafed to row ; " How camefl: thou hither, by what means. And where is't thou wouldft go ?" Carnegie told all his tale ; Said the old man, " Gif thou doil lie. As furely as I fpeak to thee. In forrow fhalt thou die. The Merchant s Garland, 285 " What wilt thou give to gain the prince, But, and to fee thy bride ? " " The whole of my wealth upon this earth," Syr Carnegie replied. " Then fwear that thou wilt give to me Thy firft babe that is born, When fhall it come to thirty months ?" This has the merchant fworn. '^ For precious life is fweet," he faid, " And I do it the life to fave ; Carry me unto fair Tunis, And my firft born thou ihalt have." Fytte Fourth. ^ I ^HE wind blew frefhiy from the weft, "*" When a ftiip rode in the bay ; Syr Carnegie leapt from her decks. And to Tunis took his way. 2 86 Border Minjl reify. He came to the window of his love, And the Princefs faw him there ; And to the height of verie joy, Was raifed from fad defpayr. He came and kifled her in his arms ; She cried, " Sweet joy and dear. Where have you been, how fcaped the fea ? How is't I fee thee here ?" He told her of the falfe captayne. Surprizing him in his fleep ; And how he fwam unto the ifle. And faved him from the deep. The Prince he gave a noble feaft. Upon the filver lake, Where fports and dance of every kind. Did various pleafaunce take. The Prince fpoke to the falfe captayne, " My dochter fhall ye wed ; " When Carnegie from the cabin came. New rifen from the dead. The Merchant's Garland. 287 The captayne turned payl foddenly. And for mercy then he roared ; He clafped his hands, and with a ihriek Lap ftraightway overboard. They joined the hand of Carnegie Unto his heart's dear joy ; And within two years or lefs. She bore him a girl and boy. The fon was born fo father hke, The daughter the mother mild ; When a ftrange old man came in one day. With " Carnegie, where's thy child ? " " What wants that man, dear Carnegie, With ever a child of thine ? Go, fend him from my father's court ;" But her hufband gave no fign. He told her parents and his wife. Of the oath that he had made. When fainting on the defert ifle. Or there he might have ftay'd. 2 88 Border Minjireljy. With a grim look the old man fmiled, And faid, " Thy promife keep." The Prince, and eke the Tunis Court, I wot did felly weepe. Sair prayed the mother and eke the Prince, The nobles, parents both ; To all which cried the wee auld man, " I redde ye tent your oath." " It maun be dune," quo' Carnegie, " And you fall hae your due ; So there's the babe, thou ftrange auld man. And the other, my wife, for you." The mother fhe kift it o'er and o'er, " Thou goeft the Lord knows where. That ever I fhould with my own flefh part. He will thee in pieces tear. " But let this kifs be on thy lips. More than my tongue can tell ; I do it to fave my hufband's word. Thy mother's joy, farewell." The Merchant s Garland, 289 The fmile came into that auld man's face. And pleafant his looks to view ; And fomething heavenly his fhape. Unto all eyes then grew. And he faid, " Remembreft thou, Carnegie, Of a body upon the ground, When firft thou cam'ft to Turkifh land. To bury with fifty pound ? " I mought have never fand a reft. But in fome wolfifti maw, — If thrown into the Bofphorus, Have crammed a fharkis craw, *' Had not thy mercy much avayled. To give my poor remains A Chriftian grave, with holy rites, And coffin for my banes : " Therefore the Lord of life and light Hath power given me. To leave the manfions of the dead. Awhile to fuccour thee. u 290 Border Mi7tjlrelfy, " That deed of grace fhall fave thy child ; Never good aftion yet. But bloflbmed to a fertile tree, With heavenly dew bewet. " A good deed done is money put At intereft, that fhall creep Into a fum at the final count, And the doer the balance reap. " I am the fpirit of that dead bodie. And my bleffing on thee fall ; So keep your child for kindnefs done." And he vanifhed from the hall. Then all took hands, and blefled themfelves. And the good auld Prince likewife ; And the parents kifled their babie's cheek. With tear drops in their eyes. Now herein fee high Heaven's hand. In this merchant's life indeed ; No man on earth can well prevent What have the fates decreed. The Worme of Lambtone. THE ftory on which this ancient BalJad, full of plot and incidents, is founded, ranks amongft the moft popular traditions of Durham, and has been tranf- mitted with very little variation for centuries from father to fon, various fa6ls having been prefTed into the fervice, to eftablifh the commination of fudden death that has been fuppofed to hang over the family of Lambton. The date of the ftory is of courfe uncer- tain ; but nine afcending generations from the late General Lambton (in whom popular tradition affirmed the curfe to expire), would exadlly reach to Sir John Lambton, Knight, of Rhodes, of whom this curious entry ftands in an old MSS. pedigree in pofleffion of Middleton of Offerton. " Johanne Lambtun that flewe ye Worm was Knight of Rhodes and Lorde of Lambton and "Wood apirton, efther the dethe of 4 bro- thers fans effhewe male, his fonne Robert Lambton was drowned at Newebrigge." That the Knight ever 292 Border Mi?ijireljy. fucceeded to the family eftates, however, is contradidted by the proven pedigree. Popular tradition affigns the Chapel of Brigford as the fpot where Lambton offered up his vows before and after the adventure, (a foun- dation, which, it has been fhown, exifted at a period antecedent to the earlieft era afligned to the legend). In the garden houfe at Lambton are two figures of no great antiquity : a Knight in good ftyle armed cap a pie, the back Ji lidded with razor blades^ holding the Worme by one ear with the left hand, and with his right thrufting the fword to the hilt down his throat ; and a lady wearing a coronet, &c. in the ftyle of Charles the Second's beauties, with a wound on her bofom, and an accidental mutilation of the hand, which are faid to be the work of the Worm. A real Andrew Ferrara infcribed on the blade, 1521, is faid to have been the identical fword by which the Worm perifhed. The date of it feems to have been prefled into the fervice. The title Worm was ufed with great latitude ; gene- rally it was reprefented as having four legs and ears, much in the dragon ftyle. The Worm of Tinton, flain by a Scotch Knight, and the laidly, or loath- fome Worme of Spindelftone Heugh (for which fee page 57), are alfo fuppofed to relate to fome hiftorical fa6l wrapped in dark allegory. There are feveral modern effxifions on the fame fubjedl ; but I believe this to be the " original" one. The Worme of Lambtone. N times of old lived by the Weare, A chiefe of chivalrous fame, Nor lord nor baron the country rounde. Could boaft a nobler name. A wide domaine free of tillage and fief. And many ferfs had he, That would fight with him on battle field, And hunt on the greenwood lea. One only fonne did him father calle, A youthe of daryng fame, His pryde itte was to reyne the fteede, And fhoote the wylye game. 94 Border Minft reify. No mother's earneft wyfh avayle. Nor pious abbotte's prayere. To turn his mynde from dangerous fporte, Or gyve heede to Godlye care. And oft to the lordlye caftelle I ween Would fatherly monkes repayr, To join amid the revellrous fhoute, • And fumptuous banquettes fhare. And oft as the weftern fun did gild The flankyng baftion walle, The clarion founde would call to feaft. Lord, dame, and ferf, and all. Then would the mynftrelle band call forth. To daunce in myrth and glee. And the plume woulde nodde on eche fayr browe, Each joyous hearte be free. The face woulde weare its placid fmile. The eye its wytchyng fheene. The herte woulde thrill in bofome whytte, Benethe a boddice clene. The Wornie of Lambtone. 295 The Knyghte wolde wende in mazy dance, And deign a martial fmile. To her whofe hande was locked in his. As they trodde the daunce the whyle. The Baron, whofe youthful mirth was gone, Kept to the feftal halle ; And eche cuppe that touched his lippe, Wolde fome daryng deed recalle. Suche were the fcenes yonge Lambtone viewed. And fuch he loved to fee. The merry daunce, the honde and horn. And fpirits blithe and free. And when the boundynge deere led onne The hondes in jollye crye ; No huntfman on a fleeter fteede. In fkylle colde hym outvye. Oft wolde hee to the Weare's coole fl:reme. In the noons of Summer hie. Where the bowes cafte theyre fliadows o'er. To cozen the finny e fry. 296 Border Min ft reify. One Sabbath morn he haftened forth Alonge the filverye ftreme. The frifkye troute in fportyng moode. Joyed in the mornynge beme. And heedlefs of that hallowed daye. He haftened for rodde and creele ; He threwe in once and forthwyth drewe Forthe what he deemed ane eel. But no eel it was ; its hede difplay'd Full four fcore eyes or more, And they caft on hym a watchful gleme. As he viewed itte owre and owre. Yonge Lambtone fwore, and threw itte in To our lady's welle hard bye ; But aye as itte turns and ftiews ittfelfe. It cafts on him an eye. And aye there glances from its mouthe, A barbed tongue and longe. And anon itt folds and wrappes ittfelfe. As iff intente on wronge. The Worme of Lambtone. 297 One morne no trace of itt remayned. In well or countrie rounde ; Tho' oft in fearch the ferfs went forthe. When mornynge dewed the grounde. Now ledde by hope of martial praife, And a foldier's gallant name, Lambtone goes to the holye warres. The Chryftan rights to claime ; Where the demon of warre led on. And dethe fhrekes mette the eare. Was Lambtone feen with fhield and fworde, Wyth his herte void of feare. And ofte he mette the eyes' laft looke, Call on this world of woe ; And to his earr the dethe mone rofe, From deareft frend and foe. But whyle he waged the war abrode. And Lambtone's fame ran high ; The Worme before pentt in the welle. Did all furmife outvye. 298 Border Minjlreljy. It tooke itfelf to Wear's cool ftreme, Nurfed by the flood fo fafl: ; It grew untill nine circling foldes, A neighbring hille itte grafped. To the byre it crawled att eve. And at the mornynge breake ; To feed on the mylk that nine kye gave, Itts mornynge meale to make. But fhould the boon ere be denied. Then man and beaflie mufl; fly. Its hideous forme wolde loathly fwelle. And fire flafli from itts eye. The crie of woman's voice was herde For her fond hufl^ande flayne, And the wail of age and infant grief, Fille ryver, woode, and playne. Nor fworde or fpere 'gainft it avayled. No human prowefl^e kylled ; For oft as itt was peirced or cutt, The wound as foone itt filled. The Worme of Lambtone. 299 And when a more chivalrous knight In fight cutt itt in twayne ; Some magic fpell or fecret power Its parts ynitt agayne. Long did itt live the peft of Weare, Their drede itt the countrie founde, Forr if nine kyes' mylk waft refufed. It harried the countrie round. Seven long yeares have paft away. Seven Summers and winters cold, Seven Springs have budded the thorne, Seven harvefts away have roll'd. It was a Knyght on a Spryng morning, Rode downe by Lambtone Tower ; A large ftaghounde of mickle fize, Ranne on the Knycht before. Yonge Lambtone 'twas come from the wars, Wyth prowefs of wondrous fame. Followed by one in lowly weeds. Of holy Pylgrym's name. 300 Border Minjl reify. He had aflayled the Saracen, Stoode wyth the bold and brave, Trodde over Calvary's holy hill. And kiffed his Saviour's grave. They heard a may den cry, " Ah me, For my cow wyth the crummie home ; My brothers and my fyfters die, For the my Ik thatte feeds the worme." They heard a farmer doleful fing, " My lambs are eaten all ; The yowies mourn, nae grafs is there. And empty is my ftall." Lambtone alighted off hys fteed. And blew fae loud hys home, Hys father came to the outer gate, Wyth aged looks forlorn. Much they deplored this plague of Wear, And thought oft of remeade ; And how fo many Knights had failed To make the monfter bleede. The Worme of Lambtone. 3 o The pylgrim wyth his crofTe in hand. Greeted yonge Lambtone's lorde ; Said he, " Thy coat of mayl put on. And take thy trufty fword. " Thy coat wyth razors fette muft bee. Thy lance of well tried fteel. Attack this Worme when he hies to Wear, To take itf s mornynge meale. " For nere the hille, clofe by the ftreme. The monfter's wont to refte ; Around the rocke its huge form coil'd. On the floode itt laves itts breft. " In thy returne from flaughterin, Whate'er fhalle meete thee firft, Muft offered be as facrifice, Elfe thy race is accurfed. " Go take thy ftand on the little rock. And heed well what I've faide. Or Lambtone's lords for nine defcents Shall ne'er die in their bedde." 30 2 Border Min ft reify. Now Lambtone putte on his coatt of mayle. Thick fette wyth razors fmall, His welle tried fworde bounde by hys fyde. And he left his father's halle. He drew hys fharp fworde from itts fheathe, Thatte never fayled hys need ; " Chryft now proted me in thys ftryfe, I make the monfter bleede." The fun was drinking up the dew, And the flowers raifed theyr head, When the Worme unfolded from the hill. And to the rocke he fpedd. He wryggled fwyftly o'er the grounde. Like a fallow or diftrere ; Lambtone he waited for the Worme, And trembled with his feare. He ftruck the Worme upon the head, Soe hard and fore a blowe, Butte it fcarcely touched the fearful bead. Who angry wyfe did growe. The Worme of Lambtone. 303 He threw hys folds about the Knyghte, Its breathe almoft hym fped ; Butte clofer as prefft the eftfome Worme, The more the monfter bled. The razor blades hym cut foe fore. Till the ryver ranne wyth bloode, The Wormis ftrength began to fail. On the rocke where Lambtone ftoode. He grafped hys fworde wyth alle hys might. And cut the Worme in two ; One half felle in the running ftreame, Which carried itte from view. Soe thatte the Worme coulde not unite, Itte hiffed foe fearfully ; Another ftroke hys neck upon. And the Worme lay filentlie. Lambtone blew his horn foe fhrill. For hys fire to loofe hys hounde. That he might flaye itte, as his vow To heaven he had bounde. 304 Border Mi?2jireljy. But hys father In hys verie joy, Ranne lyke a manne half wilde. Overjoyed the ugfome Worme was deade, Slaine by hys Knyghtly childe. When Lambtone faw hys father come. He allmoft fell wyth grief; " I muft not kyll my fire," he faide, " If never comes relyfe. " Oh father, wherefore came you here. And not fyrft loofed my hounde ? The next thing that I fee I'll flay," And loud his bugle wound. His ftaghounde heard the well known blaft. O'er hill and holt he flewe ; And comynge to the fatal rocke. The Knyght hym fellie flewe. Too late he made the facrifice, *' My vow is kept," he fayde ; Butte the Lambtone Lordes, for nine defcents Ne'er died withyn their bedde. Belted Will. THIS Ballad is original, and is founded on a legend appertaining to Thirl wall, whofe proprietors in remote times were called Barons, and held under the Kings of Scotland as Lords of Tindale. The townihip and manor derives its name from the Roman thralling or barrier wall running through it. To " thirll," in the old Northumbrian dialed;, means to bind or en- thral. Thirlwall Caftle ftands on a rocky precipice above the river Tiflalt ; there is no mention of it before 1369, in which year John de Thirlwall is called lord of it, and the manor of Thirlwall. The legend on which part of the Ballad is founded is as follows. One of the Barons of Thirlwall re- turned from the foreign wars, laden with abundance of treafure, amongft which was a table of folid gold ; his wealth was much fpoken of, and often excited the cupidity of the numerous band of freebooters with X o6 Boj^der Mijijl reify. which the Border abounded; but the well known bravery of the Baron and the ftrength of his followers prevented them from making an open attack. The gold table, it was affirmed, was guarded day and night by a hideous dwarf; fome faid it was the foul fiend himfelf. In a predatory excurfion, the Baron was purfued home by the incenfed Warden of the March, who ftormed his caftle, and flew the Baron and moft part of his retainers. The caftle was ranfacked for the treafure ; but the gold table, dwarf, and money bags had difappeared. Dungeons and vaults were fearched, but nothing could be found ; and after fetting fire to the caftle, the vidors retired. The dwarf (according to tradition) during the heat of the engagement, re- moved the treafure, and throwing it into a deep well jumped in after it, when by his infernal art he clofed the well over himfelf and his charge : and it is faid that he ftill remains under the influence of a fpell, only to be broken by the virtuous fon of a widow. About fifty years ago, a man who was ploughing in an adjoining field imagined that a certain part of the ground founded hollow when the plough pafled over it. This having excited his curiofity, he ftruck the earth violently, when he diftinftly heard a ftone drop, and ftrike the fide wall repeatedly, and end in a hollow murmur at the bottom of fome deep well or pit, Im- prefted with the belief that this was the dwarf's well. Belted Will. 307 and that he was on the point of poffefTing unbounded wealth, he refolved, Hke Goldfmith's Miller, to pro- ceed cautioufly, and returning at the dead of night, to explore the fubterraneous cavity. But, alas, for the inftability of earthly hopes ; on his return he was un- able to difcover the place : day after day he recrofTed and fearched the field, and night after night he ftruck the ground in vain ; the hollow found was heard no more, and the dwarf's well remains undifcovered to this very day. Naworth Caftle, the abode of that famous warrior Belted Will, ftood near Brampton in Cumberland. It was burnt down in 1844. Lord Morpeth is ereding a {lately edifice on its afhes. For a defcription of this Border foldier and his dwelling, fee Scott's notes to his Lay of the Laft Minftrel. In the Memoirs of Sir Robert Carey, then deputy for his father. Lord Hunf- den. Warden of the Eaftern Marches (and afterwards Earl of Monmouth) a fingular picture v/ill be found of the rude and lav/lefs ftate of fociety, at the period when the fcene of the Ballad is laid. I^hey went along a clofe pajfage^ Built in the Cajlle wall. Difcoveries made during the removal of the ruins, corroborate this and other allufions made in the Ballad. Belted Will. HE Baron of Thirlwall came from the wars. Laden with treafure bold ; Among the which a fayre tabel. All of the beaten gold. And men will fpeak of the Baron's wealth. Whatever he may fay, And how a grifly dwarf does guard His treafure night and day. Mony a Border freebooter Eyed Thirlwall's gude caftell, Thinking to win the bags of gold. And eke the fayre tabel. Belted Will, 309 But the Baron hath retainers bold, And fwatchers mony ane. And the caftle walls are high to win, Howe'er they fidge and fain. The boldeft ane o' a' his men Was Jockey of the Sheugh ; The Baron loved him like a brither, And that was fair enoo. Jock could warfle, run or lap Wi' ever a living man ; Never a wight in Cumbernauld Could beat him at the fpan. But Thirlwall's Baron heeded not The word o' Belted Will, Who dwells within the dark Naworth, The Border March to ftill. He can rule all the Border roun', Wi' a peeled willey wan ; But Thirlwall's Baron geeks at him, And a' the laws o' the Ian'. 3IO Border Minjirelfy. So faft come tidings of ravin wrong To Belted Willy's ear ; Quo' he, "By my belt I'll trap this man, If I catch him in effeir. " But he is hke a wily tod, That taketh to his hole. An 1 can catch him on the turn, Ife fmoke him frae his bole. " He reaves and harries ilka ane, Tho' he has goups o' gold ; Ife lay a trap for him bedeen. By which he fhall be fold." Thirlwall's Baron heard his fpeech, Wi' fcorn amaift he burft ; *' His anger it is like a haggis. That's hetteft at the firft." Sore fmiled the wily Belted Will, But in fo dark a way ; Better that fmile were wanting there. Than on his lip to lay. Belted Will. 311 Jock o' the Sheugh tirled at the ftring, Of the Baron of Thirlwall's yett ; " Up, up, and rife, my noble lord. Some plunder for to get. " There are a fwatch o' Englifhers Coming frae Carlifle toun. Well laden wi' the yellow goud, For Annan are they boun." " Gae tak a dozen o' my men. And brattle o'er the lea. Lay wait and watch untill they pafs The Bownefs witches tree. ** A dozen o" ye well may lick Three fcore o' Englifh tykes, Tak a' they have, and leave them fae To tell o' this wha likes." Then Jock banged o'er the broomy knowe. And reached the witches tree, And wi' his dozen freebooters, Lay doun on thir bellie. 312 Border Minjl reify. Fytte Second. TOCK heard a found, and looked up, •^ " Ye fule," fays one, " llg doun. It's but a patrick on the wing, Or a reaving tod in the broome." Quo' Jock, " Gude Willie ye fay wrang. And fo I'll prove to you ; Its no ane tod, its a baker's dozen. That's low in the broome the noo." There cam on twenty Englifhers, Wi' cloaks and faddle bags ; There cam on twenty travellers. Mounted on goodly naigs. " A fhame upon yon forning crew," Quo' Jock, " the deil me flay, Ife have half dozen o' yon yauds Before that home I gae. Belted Will 313 " That they fuld ride fo cantily. The deil pike out thar e'en. And the muckle fiend their baggies gnaw. For well fluffed hae they been." Cam on thofe twenty travellers. With lang cloaks flowing doun. Cam on thefe twenty travellers. All thro' the yellow broome. Then ftarted up Jock and his men Wi' fie an awfu yell. Ye might have heard it at the top Of Skiddaw or Criffell. " Come off your naigs ye forning crew, Of fouthron pock-puddings. Or ye fall hae the gude cauld fleel. So gie us a' your things." ** Wefe gie ye that," faid ane o' them, " Yefe no forget I wiffe. This mony a day gude Jock o' the Sheugh, And that my Billie's this." 314 Border Mmftreljy, \ They threw the cloaks from off their hides, And back and breaftplate flione ; They grippit their fwords, the iirft blow ftruck Was echoed with a groan. Gude faith, but Jock had fund his match, For the Southrons hacked about ; The Thirlwall boys were fain to fight. But foon put to the route. Of twelve o' Jock's gude freebooters But three fled owre the lea. The other nine lay fl:ill eneuch Befide the witches' tree. Poor Jock is doun upon his back, Wi' a fair clour on the head ; His billies all are fl:iffening. And three o' them are fled. Out fpoke the twenty travellers, p *' Why Jock, how's this of a', ; Ye bid us to a meal gude faith, i And then ye rin awa.'*" 1 Belted Will. 315 Quo' Jock, as they bund faft his arms, And raifed him frae the lea, " Gif I had kenned ye were Belted Will's men, The devil might flopped ye for me." Fytte Third. 'TT^HE Baron o' Thirlwall looked abroad, -*" From out his ftrong caftell. And he faw three men come pofting on, Out owre the fern and fell. " I wad," faid he, " they run a race, A thoufand merks I lay Upon the wight in the red jerkin. He wins the race this day." The three men burft in on his room, " My lord," then each one faid, *' Jock o' the Sheugh is wounded fair, And nine gude fallows dead." 3 1 6 Border Minjl reify. The dark fpot flew to the Baron's cheek, " Ye cowards one and a', Gae join your bluidy billies then, Whatever may befa'." He ftruck each man the neck intill, And they fell on the floor ; *' To fly without a fingle blow. Shews valour to be poor. '< Gif Belted Will fuld harm a hair, O' Jock o' the Sheugh his head, I'll put the Border in ficcan a bleeze. Shall mak him flee with dread. " Gif Jock o' the Sheugh hangs for this ploy, The hail o' the March fall weep, Nae man fall wauken in the morn. That gangs alive to fleep. " Mony a mither fall weep her lane, With outen woe and alack ; Many a red cock craw betimes, In a farmer's garth or fliack." Belted Will. 317 They brought thefe words to Belted Will, As at racket ball he played ; But the only anfwer he loot fall, " Wefe. fune fee that," he faid. He went up to his own chamber Wi' ane ftout ferving man ; He ftript him o' his earlie's claethes. And naked there did ftan. He pat aff filk and fendal too, And plume, and belt, and a'. And drew on druggett and hodden grey ; But he didna look fae braw. He went in that room a belted yerl. And a ferving man cam out ; He took a lamp frae the window neuk. And looked fharp aboot. He lifted up the painted arras. And a little door he fpied ; The lad and him went in the wall, Wi' quick and hafty ftride. 3 1 8 Border Minjl reify. They went along a clofe pafTage, * Built in the Caftle wall ; Sometimes up heights, then over baulks. Syne forced to ftoop and crawl. Down fteep fteps they lower went. Till they reached the founding rock ; At length the Earlie cam to a door. And he fhot back the lock. They went into a dungeon high. And Jock o' the Sheugh lay there ; He raifit himfelf upon his crook. To look upon the pair. " Good e'en to ye," faid Belted Will, " I am a ferving man Unto the Warden o' the March, For as fimple as I flan. " My name is Thomas Featherftone, As I now tell to thee. Come of as good a kith and kin As any the north countrle." Belted Will. 319 *' I downa queftion ye, my man," Quo' Jock wi' gruefome mood ; " But ye mufl: mak me wun thro' walls. Or elfe do me nae good." " Haith lad, here's wine and gude pafly, Sae never fafh your thoomb ; Ye've been in ficcan a ftate before. For a' ye look fae gloom." " And that is true," quo' Thirlwall's Jock, " Sae gies the gude red wine ;" They fat them doun upon the floor. As in a chamber fine. " Then here's to thee !" quo Belted Will, The very words he fpak ; " The fame to you," roared Jock o' the Sheugh, And flapped him on the back. Jock told him o' his wickednefs. From now fince he could ftand ; The frolics of his wantonnefs. In England and Scotland. 3 20 Border Miiijl reify. Nine Englifhmen he had murderet, Befide fome orra thing : " No much to crack about," quo Jock, " Nor worth the mentioning." How he had robbed and plundered a'. On Sabbath and wor-day ; " Are ye no forry for thefe things ? " Then Belted Will did fay. " Gude faith, my lad, I'm no that faft, For were I free the morn, I wad be off upon the auld fcore. As fure as ye were born." Up rofe his comrade frae the floor, " At morning ye fall die ; It were a fhame to let ye fcape. Living fo wickedly. " Had'fl thou but faid, Good lord, me fave, I am a finful man. There were fome hopes o' thy convert. To lengthen out life's fpan. Belted Will. 321 " Thou haft rejoiced in all thou'ft done. In guiltynefs content ; And thou fhalt die :" fo faying this, He from the dungeon went. Puir Jock leuked wi' a ferious face, Frae's hand there dropped the gill ; " Now fave my foul, what have I faid ? That fure was Belted Will !" Fytte Fourth. T) Y Brampton's town there ftands an oak, ^-^ Upon a hill fo high ; And Jock was broughten there betimes. Upon the tree to die. They ftrapped him to the higheft branch. Of all that goodly tree. And there the righteous chaplain prayed For Jock's foul folemnlie. 322 Border Mi?tjireljy. Thirlwalls Baron faw the fight. And fwore revenge to have ; For better part o' a fummer's day- He nothing did but rave. He fent a meflenger fae bold To Will, wha cried in fcorn, *' Better he looks intill his neft, I'fe burn it ere the morn." The Baron fled to his caftell. And guarded it fae grim ; " The fiend tak Belted Will," he cried, " 'Tis word and blow wi' him." But fcarcely had the midnight fell. When fpite o' a' his care. Belted Will his cafl:ell fl:ormed. For a' he fi^ught fo fair. A tar barrel and reeking peat. They laid unto his nefl:, Threw open gates and wide windows, And the night wind did the refl:. Belted JVilL 323 The Baron fled frae room to room. By the flames o' his own ha', " He's gien me light to go to bed, Whatever may befa'." He rufhed into his inner room, Where his golden table lay ; The devil in likenefs o' a dwarf. Kept watch there night and day. Belted Will purfued him hard. Amid the flame and fl:our. For he cut the flcirt frae the Baron's cloak. As he whifked thro' the door. " Save me now thou gruefome elf. And my faul and body's thine ; " The dwarf he jabbered hideoufly. But never made a fign. Belted Will called for a ram, To bafli the doorway doun. The red flames thro' the keyhole flaflied, And filled wi' reek the room. 324 Border Mi?tjlreljy, " My foul and bodie," the Baron faid. Abjuring Chryft his fign ; The devil he grippit him in his arms, " Now, Baron, art thou mine." The door gaed fplint'ring frae the pofts. In ruflied the enemie ; But Baron, dwarf, and goud table, I wat they could na fee. And legends fay the ugfome dwarf Threw all into a well. And by the glamour o' his art, Caft over all a fpell : Which never may be rendered vayn But by a widow's fon ; And he fhall find the gold table. When years away have run. Belted Will looked up at the tower. Where flafhed the flames fo red, " The Baron's foul maun be in hell,"" The Border Warden faid. Belted Will. 325 " Now by my word, I rather had Met him upon the field ; " Then Thirlwall's freebooters cried out, " Ho ! Belted Will, we yield." Of horfe and foot five hundred ftrong Were muftered on that morn. To keep the caftle o' gude Thirlwall, Wi' fword, and fpear, and horn. They drove them untill Cumbernauld, All that were prifoners taen ; But many by the Warden's men. In the blazing towers were (lain. And better they were, who on that night Had fallen in the ftrife. Than thus to live of hope bereft, A captive's weary life. To count the fad return o' day. For many a lonely hour. All thro' the night thro' the cold daylight. In Naworth's dungeon tower. The rare Ballad of Johnnie Faa and the Countefs o' Caffilis, THE incidents recorded in this Ballad muft have occurred in the reign of James the Fifth of Scot- land, or poflibly in that of his father, James the Fourth, the King of the Commons, who commenced a regular procefs of extermination againft the Border reivers and mofftroopers, hung Johnny Armstrong at the gate of his own tower, and fpread fuch terror and difmay over the country, that in the words of the time, " The rufh bufh kept the cow." The refidence of the Earl of Caffilis was at Maybole Tower in Ayrshire, if 1 am informed rightly, where the tragedy recounted in thefe verfes was perpetrated. I have heard this Ballad fung repeatedly by Willie Faa, and have endeavoured to preferve as much of his verfion as recolledlion would allow me. It appears doubtful whether the partner of the unfortunate Countefs was Johnny Faa ; for fome yohnnie Faa. 327 writers of the ftory, in contradiftion of this aflertion, affirm that he was a favoured lover of the lady, one Sir John Pringle, who fhould have married the Countefs, had not the threats of her father (who I believe was Primate of Saint Andrew's), and her mother (a fifter of the Black Douglas), forced her to beftow her hand on the jealous and cruel Earl of Caffilis. The ftory runs, that the repeated cruelties of the Earl having difgufted the Countefs, fhe determined to leave her hufband, and fly to her father's refidence, and for that purpofe fought the aflifl:ance of Sir John Pringle who, (having returned from the French wars, whither he had gone on the marriage of the lady) had been lately refiding in the neighbourhood of the caflle, for the purpofe of feeing his firfl: love. Burning with rage at the dafl:ardly conduft of the Earl, he lent himfelf to the efcape of the unfortunate Countefs, and with the aid of that celebrated vagrant leader, Johnny Faa, to whom he had performed fome aft of kindnefs, he dif- guifed himfelf as a gipfy, and carried her ofi\ Earl Caffilis however purfued the fugitives with a large force, and brought them back to the caftle, where having the feudal privilege of" pit" and *^ gallows" at his difpofal, he immediately availed himfelf of it, and to the ffiame of knighthood, and againft the laws of honour, hung Sir John and his gipfy affiociates on a large elm grow- ing in front of the caftle, 'Tis faid that he compelled 328 Border Minjl reify. the unhappy Countefs to witnefs the execution of Sir John, and a6lually held her to the window, whilft her unhappy lover ftruggled in the agonies of death. The Countefs was immured in a nunnery by her brutal hufband, who was foon after ilain in a battle with the Englifh near Edinburgh. Such is the tradition affirmed to be true by many writers. Tm Johnny Faa d Tetholm town. Yetholm, on the borders of Northumberland, fitu- ated amongft the recefles of the Cheviots, has ever been the head quarters of the Gipfy tribes. The Faa's, (a corruption of Fall, their original defignation), the Youngs, Armftrongs and Gordons, ftill look up to this ftraggling village as their city of refuge. The author has more than once taken a leflbn in the Wal- tonian art, from old Willy Faa, the laft defcendant of the Kings of " Little Egypt." It was on feeing Johnny Armllrong, the celebrated freebooter, at the head of his gang, that King James remarked. What wants that knave ^ which a king fJiouId have^ Forbye afceptre and crown. The rare Ballad of Johnnie Faa and the Countefs o Caffilis. HERE were feven Gipfies in a gang, They were both brifk and bonny O, They rode till they came to the Earl of Caftle's houfe, And there they fung fo fweetly O. The Earl of Caftle's lady came down, With her waiting maid befide her O ; As foon as her handfome face they faw. They caft the glamour o'er her O. They gave to her a nutmeg brown. Which was of the belinger O ; She gave to them a far better thing, The ring from off her finger O. 330 Border Minjlreljy. The Earl he flang his purfe to them, For wow but they fung bonny O ; Gied them red wine and manchet cake, And all for the Gipfy laddie O. The Earl wad gae hunt in Maybole woods. For blythfome was the morning O, To hunt the deer wi' the yelping curs, Wi' the huntfman bugle founding O. The Countefs went doun to the ha' To hae a crack at them fairly O ; " And och," fhe cried, " I wad follow thee. To the end o' the world or nearly O." He kift the Countefs lips fae red, And her jimp white waift he cuddled O ; She fmoothed his beard wi' her luvely hand. And a' for her Gipfy laddie O. " And och," fhe cried, " that I fhould love thee. And ever wrong my Earlie O, I ken there's Glamour in mine e'ee. To follow a Gipfy laddie O." Johnnie Faa. 331 Quo he, " Thou art ane Earl's ladye, And that is kent fu' fairly O ; But if thou comeft awa wi' me, Thou'lt be a queen fo rarely O. " I'm Johnny Faa o' Yetholm town. There dwall my min and daddie O ; And fweet Countefs, I'm nothing lefs Than King o' the Gipfy laddies O." She pull'd off her high heel'd fhoes. They were made of Spanifh leather O ; She put on her Highland brogues, To follow the Gipfy laddie O. At night, when my lord came riding home. Enquiring for his lady O, The waiting maid made this reply — She's following the Gipfy laddie O." cc " O now then," quo' the bonny Earl, " That ever ficcan a thing fuld be ; All ye that love, oh never build Your neft upon the topmoft tree. 332 Border Minjlreljy. " For oh the green leaves they will fall, And roots and branches wither O ; But the virtue o' a leal woman, I trow wad never fwither O. " Go faddle me my mylk white fteed. Go faddle it fo fadly O, And I will ride out oure the lea, To follow her Gipfy laddie O. " Go faddle me my bonny black. And eke my gray cowt quickly O ; Gin I hae not Johnny Faa his head. The de'il may claw me tightly O. *' Have you been eaft, or have you been weft, Or have you been brifk and bonny O, Or have you feen a gay lady Following a Gipfy laddie O ? " He rode all the fummer's night. And part of the next morning O ; At length he efpied his own wedded wife. She was cold, wet, and weary O. yoh?inie Faa. 333 The leddy fabbed, the leddy cried. And wrung her hands fae fadly O ; And aye her moan was to the Earl, To fpare her Gipfy laddie O. " Why did you leave your houfes and lands. Or why did you leave your money O, Or why did you leave your own wedded lord, To follow the Gipfy laddie O ?" " O what care I for houfes and lands. Or what care I for money O ? So as I have brew'd, fo I will drink. So fare you well, my honey O." They marched them to the gallows tree, Whilft the Earl flood at the window O ; And aye the fmile was on his lip, As he thocht on the Gipfy laddie O. There were feven Gipfies in a gang, They were fo brifk and bonny O, And they're to be hang'd all in a row. For the Earl o' Cafftle's leddy O. Countefs Joan's Garter. DAVID King of Scotland, who figures in this Ballad, is the fame mentioned in the Ballad of Earl Moray's Capture. He feems to have been pecu- liarly unfortunate in his fieges, circumftances oblig- ing him to raife his beleaguering, or elfe by fome unforefeen cafualty to " fheer off." He received a dreadful check at the battle of Durham, when the Englifh army, commanded by Earl Percy, defeated him with great (laughter. Fifteen thoufand Scots were flain, amongft whom were Charteris, the Chancellor ; Keith, Earl Marifchal ; while the Earls of Douglas, Sutherland, Fife, Carrick, and Menteith, together with the King, were all taken prifoners. In confequence of this dreadful defeat, the Scots were obliged to quit their claim to all the lands which they held in Eng- land ; and alfo to give up Teviotdale, Liddefdale, the Merfe, and Lauderdale ; fo that Cockfburnpath and Countefs Joans Garter. 335 Soutra Hill became the fouthern boundary of Scotland. David died in the Caftle of Edinburgh on the 17th of May, 1370, in the 47th of his age, and 42,nd of his reign. Hiftorians aver that he was diftinguifhed for many excellent qualities, efpecially for his juftice and generofity, though his merits as a man were greatly furpafTed by his defedts as a Prince. 'The bonny Earl was no at hame^ But Joan and his Billie were. This alludes to the Earl of Salifbury, who was in England with King Edward the Third's army at Knaref- borough. Joan was daughter of the Earl of Kent, and coufin to King Edward, of courfe a Plantagenet. Sir William wi' fifty men F ricked from the Caftle wall. Sir William Montague was brother of Robert Mon- tague Earl of Salifbury, and in his abfence. Governor of Wark Caftle, which, as Mackenzie fays, " ftands upon a circular eminence formed by art, near the river Tweed, two miles weft from Cornhill, and eaft from Carham. No certain date can be affixed to the erec- tion of this fortrefs ; but from feveral circumftances of hiftory, it appears it was founded as early as the twelfth century. According to Leland, Henry II. caufed the Caftle of Werke to be made." 33^ Border Miji/lreljy. From its fituation, this Caftle was expofed to re- peated afTaults, and it forms a prominent objedl in the bloody annals of the Border wars. On King Stephen's ufurpation of the Britifh throne, David I. with great indignation crofled the Border, and amongft other fortrefTes which he afTaulted was that of Werke (ac- cording to the Chronicles of Richard of Hexham), which, however, was bravely defended by Jourdain de Breflis, nephew to Walter Defpec, one of the leaders of the " Battle of the Standard." The garrifon, it is faid, were reduced to fuch ftraits that they killed their horfes for provender. In the reign of Edward II. Wark was taken by aflault. In LelancTs Colle^anea^ it is faid, p. 540, " The Scottes came into the March of Englande and deftroyed the Caftles of Werke and Harbottle." They carried one hundred and ninety mules ^ Laden wi' wine and bread. The circumftances attending this adventure are as follow : while David II. was returning from his expe- dition to the Borders in 1342, the rear of his army paffing by Wark Caftle, laden with plunder, was {^^n by the garrifon with great indignation. Sir William Montague, the governor, with fifty horfemen made a fally, attended with confiderable flaughter, returning to Countefs yoans Garter. 337 the Caftle with one hundred and ninety horfes laden with booty. David incenfed at this daring attack, led his army againft the Caftle, but was repulfed with great flaughter ; he then filled the ditches and battered down the outer walls. Provifions failing the garrifon, it was refolved to fend a meffenger to King Edward, then in Yorkfhire, with an account of the ftate they were in ; this was eiFeded one dark and ftormy night by Sir William Montague, who paffed in fafety through the Scottifti camp. The Scottifti Chieftains, unwilling to rifk the booty they had acquired, perfuaded King David to raife the fiege, and crofs the Tweed, which was done fix hours before the vanguard of the Englifii army appeared. The joy of the Countefs of Salifi^ury for this relief, and her pleafing deportment whilft ihe en- tertained the King at Wark, was the beginning of an amour, to which, it is faid, the famous inftitution of the Order of St. George owed its origin. Poor piteous fiones^ the lady faid. This is avouched as an hiftorical fadt. It feems that the fair Joan was as daring in courage as flie was irrefiftible in beauty. " Shame fall on him who thinks." The well known motto of the Garter, " Honifoit qui 33 8 Border Minjireljy. mal y penfe : — Evil be to him who evil thinks." Whe- ther this illuftrious order fprang from the incident here related we know not ; but from lighter caufes greater events have fprung. This Ballad is original, and was never publifhed before. Countefs Joan's Garter. T was in the back end o' the year, Fourteen hundred and forty-two ; That David King of all Scotlande, Marched o'er the Border his bonnets blue. They feized on cattle, flocks, and gear. Of the men o' Northumberland, And never a power o' Kyng Yedward, Colde mak him haud his hand. Laden wi' fpoil he onward pafled. Till he cam to Wark Caftell fayre ; The bonny Earl was no at hame. But Joan and his Billie were. 340 Border Minjl reify. Fayr Joan ftood on the battlements. And faw the Scots pafs by ; She was blude coufin o' Kyng Yedward, And flafhit her raven's eye. " And is there never a knight," fche fald, " And I a Plantagenet, Will charge upon yon cogging Scots, Their plunder back to get?" Stood forth Sir William Montague, Her gude brither was he ; " Fair Joan, I'll charge for the Rofe of Wark, And fight for a vidlory." Gloaming gathered o'er the Tweed, And darknefs 'gan to fall. When bauld Sir William wi' fifty men, Pricked from the Caflle wall. The Scottis army lay encamped Out ower by Carham woods. They feafted on beeves of Northumberland, And broached the wine in floods. Count efs yoans Garter, 341 When there arofe upon their ears. The neigh o' fteeds in the night ; The clang o' fhields, the fhouts o' men. And fwords were flafhing bright. " For England and the Rofe of Wark," Shouted the Montague ; " For England and the good St. George," His comrades fhouted too. The Scots fell 'neath their horfes' feet. The Englifh fought the more. For they brought death where'er they pafT'd, And terror ran before. ** Enough this night, off with our fpoil," Sir William homeward fled ; They carried one hundred and ninety mules, Laden wi' wine and bread. The hungry Scots purfued them to The very Caflle wall. The Countefs wi' her wayting maids. The drawbridge let doun fall. 342 Border Mi7ifirelfy. Each held a torch in her lily hand, " Well done, my knights, well done. And ilka man fall drink a cup. Filled by the hands of Joan." Have ye e'er feen a rat creep in. And fteal away the prize. From 'neath the nofe of Grimauken, Awhile fhe clofed her eyes ? If ye hae marked the jerfalcon, Dafh on the eagle's prey. And from the monarch of the ikies. The plunder bear away ; So looked Kyng David on his dead men, All in the morning light ; " I'fe hae yon Caftel and its crew. Before to morrow night." But gentles, 'tis a proven fough, Naught is fae hard to win. As the badger or the wily tod. When ye hae fold the fkin. Count efs yoans Garter. 343 There rode a herald to the gate, " Surrender to our Kyng ! And tak fie mercy as he gives, Or greater be the fin." *^ Surrender to your baby Kyng ?" Out fpoke undaunted Joan ; *' When was it a Plantagenet, Was e'er fae daftard known ? " *' I tak not my bode frae a woman's voice ; " Then out Sir William cried, ** Gif can Kyng David fl;orm our fort. We fiiall his onfet bide." ** Ye boldly fpeak ; but ye may fare The worfe for your raih fpeech : But better manners ere the night, I wat our fwords will teach." The Kyng led up his pick o' men. To win the Countefs' Towers, Beleaguered he the v/alls of Wark, WI' all his nordern powers. 344 Border Minjlrelfy, They plied the bonny mangonel. And the ftones and arrows flew ; Their places who in front rank fell, The rearward rufhed into. Syr William at his fquadron's head. Beat David from the gate ; But oh the battle went full hard. From early untill late. *' Poor piteous {tones," the lady faid, " They wound your bruifed fide ; " She wiped them with her handkerchief. And taunting the Scots defied. But David was o' the Bruce's blood, The fiege he wadna raife ; He filled the ditches and brayed the walls. For full a dozen days. " Quail not, ye dauntlefs Englifh hearts," Joan fhouted with a fmile, " Ere I will yield Wark Caftle up, 'Tfhall be my funeral pile." Countefs Joan 5 Garter. 345 She gave her very jewels away. In prefents to the brave, And every man at arms who fell, She dug with gold his grave. But hunger, a bitter enemy, Appeared unto their view, And faint the cry of " Bonny St. George," Among the bowmen grew. They fhot the arrows from the bow. And when they had no more. They took long fpears and charged the Scots, And backward ftill them bore. They called a council in the night. Each man cam in his mayl ; The fpirit had left that gallant few. And the Countefs' cheek was pale. " Where will I find a gallant knicht, That dares to face a fpear, That will ride to Kyng Yedward's camp, In the broad plains o' Yorkfhire?" 34^ Border Mi7ijlreljy, But not a one wad rifle his life. Upon fo wild a chafe ; Quoth Sir William, *' Ife be the meffenger, Gif God will give me grace." It cam on ficcan a fearfu' night. The rain fell flooding earth. The thunder rolled, the night was dark. And lightning played in mirth. Sir William at the pofl:ern gate, Louped on his frightened fteed. Then ftrak the fpurs unto his ribs, And dafhed off* at full fpeed. The noife o' the warring elements, Outrattled his charger's tramp ; And ere they were a moment heard, He paffed the Scottis camp. He pafTed right thro' Kyng David's lines. And ere the third day fell. He reached the camp o' Kyng Yedward, And heard black Knarefbro's bell. Cou72tefs Joans Garter. 347 King David wadna bide the blow, O' Yedward's warlike fword. So he led his Scots by Jed foreft. And many a rufhing ford. ***** Kyng Yedward fat in his fayr palace. In famous London town ; He held a fceptre in his hand, And wore a jewelled crown. 'Twas at a banquet that he made For the gay nobleffe of France ; A thoufand lights fhone in the hall, On went the leaping dance. And hundreds o' the brighteft eyes. Looked on that mynftrelfy ; The fayreft dame in all the prefle. Was Joan o' Salifbury. She leant upon Kyng Yedward's arm, And a meafure wi' him walked ; The jewels fhone upon her neck. As fyne fhe laughed and talked. 34-8 Border Minjlreljy. And whilft they walked, a blue garter. In pearls and jewels bound. Slipped from the leg o' the peerlefs Joan, And trailed upon the ground. Kyng Yedward bent upon his knee. Her luvely leg to fpan. When throughout the courtier band A whifpering murmur ran. Kyng Yedward marked his courtiers' whinge, And eke their jibes and winks. He kyng like rofe, and out he cried, " Shame fall on him wha thinks." He buckled the garter on his left leg, Aneath the bended knee ; " I'll mak an order o' this chance. This badge an honour fhall be. " I'll call it the Order of good St. George ; And the beft in Chriftendom Shall be proud to wear this emblem rare Of thy garter, my peerlefs Joan." The Ballad of Meikle Mouthed Meg, or the Wife of the Wuddy. SH AKSPEARE makes FalftafF fpeak of " minions of the moon ;" and two or three hundred years ago, no where was fuch an order of Knighthood more pre- valent than on the Border. Not only did the Scotch and Englifh Borderers make their forays acrofs the Tweed and the ideal line, but rival Chieftains of the fame nation, confidered themfelves at liberty to make inroads upon the property of their neighbours. This Ballad gives an illustration of it. The laws of meum and tuum they were unable to comprehend ; theirs was the ftrong man's law, which Wordfworth has fo fitly exprefled : — They fiould take who had the power j And they JJiould keep who can. About the beginning of the feventeenth century 3 5 o Border Minjireljy. Willie Scott of Harden flourifhed ; he came of a riev- ing ftock, his father being old Scott the riever, who is reported to have ferved up, in a covered difh, a pair of clean fpurs, by way of a hint to his retainers, that " the meat was done, they muft ride for mair." The favourite refidence of the Scotts of Harden was Oak- wood Tower, fituated on a fmall promontory on the Ettrick : but no doubt they had many other places '* to flee intill as a place o' refuge," as honeft Caleb Balderftone fays. It was a place of great ftrength, confifl:ing merely of a peel or tower, with a few out- door defences. The motto of the Scotts of Harden was " Reparabit cormia Fhcehe^' which being inter- preted by their countrymen in their vernacular idiom ran thus, " We'll hae moonlight again," the young Laird being one who confidered it his chief honour to give efPedl both to the fpirit and the letter of his family motto. Tradition avers him to have been a true " minion of the moon ; " a " gentleman of the night," who would not loll upon his pillow, when his *' voca- tion" called him to the foray. Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank, was a man whofe name was a found of terror to all his enemies ; he was fierce, refolute, and fome- what cruel ; being abfolute lord of " pit and gallows," which we are inclined to believe he put into requifi- tion very often. It was faid of him, " that he never turned his back upon a foe, or forgave an injury." Meikle Mouthed Meg. 351 He had three fair daughters, none of whom were what the world calls beautiful, but on the contrary were what the peafantry on his land defcribe as " very or- dinarie women." This legend was a favourite one with Sir Walter Scott. On the author of this Ballad vifiting Abbotsford, " that romance of ftone and lime," he obferved in the ftudy feveral beautiful water colour drawings, the fubjed of which was " Meikle mouthed Meg." Scott of Harden was an offfhoot from the Scotts of Buccleuch, the root from whence Sir Walter fprung. Andjave thy mithefs life. She was the celebrated " Flower of Yarrow," a woman of furpafTmg beauty, and concerning whofe gentlenefs and affedion many tales ftill linger in the rude glens of the Yarrow and Teviot. Leyden in his " Scenes of Infancy," has done juftice to the memory of this celebrated Beauty. //(?, namelejs as the race from whence hefprungy Praijed other names, but left his own unfung. The Ballad of Meikle Mouthed Meg, or the Wife of the Wuddy. HE moonbeam glints on tower and hill. It's hey for the bonny moonlight ; " Gae faddle my fteed, ife ried betimes The Englifh Border to night." " Tak tent gude lad, the Warder's men Are riding owre the land ;" " Tuts ! fax Scots lads will keep twa fcore Of fie fecklefs loons at a ftand." O, they were twenty flout and bold. Mounted on adlive naigs ; Some arm'd wi' guns and Jeddart flaves, Wi' iron round their craigs. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 353 Young Scott o' Harden, led them on To the lands o' Elibank ; " Gude faith, I wat Sir Gideon Will no his kindnefs thank." He left his towers by Ettrick's flream. His minnie's proverb fcorning ; When Scott fets foot in the ftirrup ring. The blood will flow ere morning. Sir Gideon and young Willie Scott, Were ever deadly foes ; Ere they fhall clafp ilk ithers hand, The Gowan. fhall grow on the rofe. They gained the lands o' Elibank, And gathered the gear thegither ; They counted tens, and came to fcores. And drove them out the heather. There was na a Murray on the lea. Young Scott, his herte was light ; Ther'll be a dry breakfaft at Elibank, At Oakwood, a meal to night. A A 354 Border Minjlreljy. They gat half way to Ettrick ftream. When they heard a lleuth hound yell. And Scott well kenn'd his mortal foe, Purfued him o'er the fell. Sir Gideon was a doure fierce man, A terror to a foe ; He had a wife and dochters three, Well tochered they were I trow. He loot young Harden fteal his kye. And oh his arm was flack. But the grim auld Knight was looking on, Wi' fifty men at his back. " I hae thee now like a thief in a mill," Sir Gideon o' Elibank faid ; He gave the word to loofe the hounds. And the hot purfuit he led. " Young Scott, yield quietly to me," Sir Gideon loudly cried, " Or a thiefs death fhall ye die. If ye the onfet bide. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 355 *' Ye've driven off my kye and fheep, And byre and fauld are toom. The corbies and ye fliall be aquaint. For what this night ye've dune." " Brag on, brag on, ye auld gray beard ; While Scott o' Harden ftands, Nae power on earth fhall mak him yield To any o' Murray's bands. " Sae do your beft, and do your worft. Here's a hand and fword to fight ; I trow a Scott ne'er turned his back Whilft a Murray was in fight." " Sma' mercy after what ye've fiiown, I had defigned for thee ; But callant, after what ye Ve faid, I'fe prove your enemy." *' Thou auld man, meafure weapons then. And I would have ye leave Your well faured daughters to the world. For your lofs maun they grieve." 2^6 . Border M'mjl reify. " Before funrife,'" quoth Gideon, " You'll fpeak lefs vauntingly ; Say what ye like of me, you dog, But leave my bairnies be.'" The ftrife went high and bloodily. They grappled at the throat ; And many was the Elibank, The rievers deadly fmote. The guns banged off, the fleuth hounds yelled. The cattle rowted fair ; And mony wights lay on the ground. That up rofe never mair. The fray went hard wi' Willie Scott, His horfe fell wi' a bound, And many Murrays wi' thir fwords Bore him intill the ground. Lady Murray cam forth at noon. To welcome her hufband hame ; And there fhe fpied young Scott o' Harden, All bounden and his lane. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 357 They thruft the Scott in a darkfome room, And left him to his thought ; But neither bread or yet red wine Unto the youth they brought. *^ And what. Lord Gideon," faid his dame, " Will ye do wi' young Scott ?" " Do ye fee yonder branch o' the elm. For that fhall be his lot/' " O gudeman," quo' his pitying dame, ** Ye could na do this thing. For lifting a pickle o' your nowt, Sae braw a lad to hing." *^ What mercy did ever a Scott o' them E'er fhew to me or mine ? The rieving Scotts fhall furely weep. The laft of all their Hne." Sche faid, " But we have dochters three. And they are no weel faured. When ye've a hufband to your hand. To hang him wad be hard." 35^ Border Minjlrelfy, " Sooth gudewife, haith, but ye are right, There's wifdom in your fay ; This birkie Scott fhall have his choice. To wed what one he may. ^^ Wefe gie him refpite to the morn. Nor hing him 'gainft all law ; To marry our daughter Meikle Mouthed Meg, Or choke wi' the death thraw." Quo' fhe, " To marry our daughter Meg, More wife like would it be. Than kill the hope of an auld auld houfe, And ftrap him to the tree." Quo' he, " Gin I were in his place, I wad refufe I ween, , And die a death upon the tree Than wed what I'd ne'er feen. ** Gae ye and tell our daughter Meg, That fhe's be wived the morn ; And I will to this young gallant. And fee what he perform." Meikle Mouthed Meg. 359 She went unto her daughter Meg, Who had a meikle mouth ; But her teeth were pearls, and her hinny breath Was like the wind from the fouth. The mither fat by her daughter's fide, " Sweet Meg, come tell me this, Would'ft thou the rather be a bride Than live in finglenefs ? " Before I was your age, I trow I was in a bride her place." " Aye mither," quo' Meg, and fighed full fair, " But ye had a weel faured face." " But you fhall fee the Ettrick ftream Rin thro' the dells o' Yarrow, Before ye hear o' an offer to me. Or a man to be my marrow. " The laner has the laneret. The falcon the gay tiercel. The wild mallard it has the drake. But I nane but myfel. 360 Border M'mjl reify. " My hawk will ftrike at fur or plume. Then warble in the air ; And when I give it tiring, It ihares it with its dear. ** I have no love to whiftle off. Or ftoop, or foar, or rake ; In vain my waiting on, no mate Will feek me for my fake. *' Oh it is hard dame nature ftamps My face fo commonly ; When ilka thing maun hae its mate, Frae emmet to the bee. ** I have no gorge to talk of joy, Or yet fly att the hood ; I am a haggard to all men. My imping does nae good. " My rufter hood and jeffes too. No male hawk will enfnare ; No eyaffes or younge neftlings. Will fall unto my fliare. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 361 " If I but ettle to a hawk, He bears away the bells ; Never becomes a canceller. No joy my bofom fwells. *' My face is foul, my heart is large, A kinder nane there is ; And muft I pafs away my days. In fullen lonelynefs ? "' The mither tauld her o' young Scott, And waited her reply ; *' Oh mither, I'd rather marry him Than ever he fuld die." But the tears rofe welling from their fpring. And filled her cufhat eyes ; " But, Mither, how if when we're wed. He fuld my heart defpife ?" " Oh marriage," quo' the wily dame, *' Is no that hard to fnoove ; Gin ye fuld marry Willie Scott, Yefe be like hand and glove." 362 Border Minjlreljy. Sir Gideon entered young Scott's dungeon ; *^ Thy death is at my hand. Ye cam as a thief in the dead o' night. And ftole my kye from my land. *^ But Ife gie ye yae chance for life, For all ye have faid of me. Either to marry my daughter Meg, Or hang upon yonder tree. " And the bauldeft Scott on the Border March, Sail never tak ye doun, Untill your fkeleton is feen. And ye drop away bone by bone." " And ye wad fpare my life," he faid, " For a' ye come fae gleg, If I would {loop and gie my hand. To your bonnie dochter Meg ? " Ye are the Murray o' Elibank, I Scott of Oakwood Tower, I would not marry your dochter Meg, Tho' a kinfrdom were her dower. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 363 " But little I fear to meet my death, As I do to tell you this ; An ye had fallen in my hands. Such were your fate I wifTe. " Ye think that your winfome daughter Meg," Oh he fpoke fae fcornfully, " Will get a hufband at the laft. Butt faith, my lad, ye lie. " I rather chufe upon the wuddy. To render up my breath ; I trow there will be Scots eneuch Left to revenge my death." " There is my thoomb, thou young braggart,'^ Sir Gideon chafing cried, " I winna hinder ye your choice. For death fhall be your bride. " And lett the Scots o' a' the Border Revenge your death that dare ; " He left young Scott untill himfel. And quat his dungeon ftair. 364 Border Minjlrelfy. Part Second. TT was about the midnight time, -*- When his dungeon door gaed back ; And the fentinel wha' guarded it. Let in a woman in black. ^'^ What want ye wi' me, fair mayden ? " The ScotL o' Harden faid. *' I come to afk, gif thy dying wifh Can be by me obeyed ? *' I am a laffie o' the houfe, And wait on Sir Gideon's dame ; And tho' ye hae refufed poor Meg, Her prayers will be the fame." ** Why has Dame Murray fent thee here ? *^ She has a woman's heart. Ye hae a mither and fifters twain. From whom fidl fune ye part. Meikle Mouthed Meg, 365 " GIf ye hae onything to fay, Ye wad have carried there, I fwear by all that's good on earth. To be your meflenger." " Mayden," quo' he, and his voice was low, " Of my mither do not fpeak ; I wifh to die as my feyther's Ton, And yet her heart I break." " It cannot be," then faid the girl, " Ye hae rejeded Meg, Without the looking on her face, I'm fure your life fhe'd beg." " I haena feen, but I hae heard Her face defcribed to me ; And by my faith, between the two Ife chufe the gallows tree." The tears fell frae that poor girl's eyes. In anger or in fpleen ? And ever and anon fhe fighed. And deep fabs cam between. 366 Border Minjlrelfy, " Belyke," quo' ihe, " they've painted her Far worfe than fhe may look ; Many a man has an ugly wife, That the wuddy could na brook." " I hae nae wiih to fee her face. Far lefs to marry her ; But ye feem o' a kindly heart. And aiblins are as fair. '^ Sae let me fee your face, my joe. And by your countenance, Ife fee if I dare truft you with A letter for my chance ?" She threw the veil frae off her face, " I'm no weel faured I know ; But kernels lie infide hard ihells. And gold in the earth below." " So fweet and fenfible ye fpeak. Ye almoft mak me wifh, Meikle Mouthed Meg was like to you, Sae kind, fae young, fae lifh." Meikie Mouthed Meg. 367 He held the light within the crufe, Clofe to the mayden's face, Wi' loof o'er e'en, he earneftly Perufed each fimple grace. He faw her face was fair and round. Her lips like a large rofe leaf; And her fnow white teeth fo even fhew'd. Like ivory from their fheath. There flood ae tear in her dove blue eye. Her eye fae mild and meek ; A large tear flowly left the lids. And trickled down her cheek. " Ye hae the look that never lied. And tho' na fine your face, Ye've pleafing fenfe and kindlynefs, Wi' every modefl grace. " So bring to me the writing ink. The paper, and pen fae fine ; And tho' ye abide wi' my enemy Yefe tak my mither a line." 368 Border Minjl reify. She rowed it up fae carefully. The letter he writ fae fair ; She had nae filk, but fhe ty'd it wi' A lock o' her gowden hair. It was by cock crowing the morn. When Meg wi' crippled feet. Like one that had a long way walked. Came in, her fire to greet : " Grant me another day," fche cried, ^'^ For young Willie Scott his life ; And throw not by the chance, your Meg Has to become a wife/' Sir Gideon rubbed his hands in glee, " I grant it for your fake ; But if he then refufe your hand. He fhall his ain way take." Much wondered the laird o" Oakwood Tower, As fell the evening gloom, They did not hang him in the morn. As he had heard his doom. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 369 He heard the fentry (hoot the bolt. And a khid o' murmuring ; And then his mother and fifters two Wi' loud outcries brak in ! And " Oh my fon ! " the mither cried, " Is there na ither way, To fave thee frae a cruel death. At the hands o' a fierce Murray ? " Marry his dochter, Willie dear. And fave thy mither's life ; Tho' fhe be ugly — what of that ? She'll make a frugal wife." " Mither, I will not tak his terms, Who brought ye here ?" he faid. *' Wha but your meflenger fae good. That kind and fonfy mayd." They pafs'd the time in grief and woe. Throughout the dead of night ; Nor ever they ceafed to weep wi' him, Untill the morning's light. B n 370 Border Minjl reify. The loud horn blew out owre the lea. Sir Gideon flood him before ; " What is thy choice, young man ?" he cried, " Or ere this deed be o'er." " The wuddy ftill before the wife," Young Harden ftoutly faid, " And wi' the hemp around my throat, I'll fpit on the ground ye tread." They led him forth to the gallows tree. When he faw that mayden there. Who at her riik, unto his mother Carried his laft letter. The thoughts o' the gallows could not ftir The heart o' that dauntlefs Chief, But the weeping look o' that young girl. It pierced his foul wi' grief. And while the tear hung in her eye. He took her lily hand ; And faid, " Thy heart is far too meek. For fuch a ruffian band. Meikle Mouthed Meg. 371 ** Hear me, Murray, fpeak my mind, I care not for thy word ; I'd rather marry this poor mayden, If fliould my life be fpared, " Than ever I'd wed thy daughter Meg," Sir Gideon clapped his hand ; " A bargain, I take thee at thy word. Young Scott, where doft thou ftand." They buckled them in holy bonds, The prieft he prayed the while ; And when the marriage knot was tied. Sir Gideon blyth did fmile. His mother fell upon his neck, ** God blefs my bairn, he's free ; And blefs the bonny lafTie yet, Wha brought the word to me." ** I give thee a father's blefTing, Sir," The Murray blythly cried ; " For what ?" — The lafTie modeft faid, " Meikle Mouthed Meg's your bride." 372 Border Minjireljy, Oh, then fore fhame fell on the Scott, And tears came in his eyes ; '' And is my bride the fcorned Meg That I did foe defpife ? " Let no man hate what he's not feen. The fhame on me doth lay ; I rofe this morning for my death, And it ends in my bridal day ! " Heaton's Raid. THIS Ballad, written by a forgotten poet named Hall, confiderably revifed and augmented, firft appeared in a local work called " Hedgely Moor," in 1 827. It is a true pidure of a Border Chieftain's Raid, which it is fuppofed to illuftrate. Thefve cowered down in Millfield Plain. Millfield, fituated about two miles north-eaft from Copeland, was formerly a refidence of the Saxon monarch of Bernicia ; on the fouth fide of the village is a large and beautiful plain, celebrated in days of yore for horferacing, football, &c. but rendered ftill more famous for the defeat of a large body of Scots, before the battle of Flodden, by Sir William Bulmer of Brancepeth Caftle, who commanded the forces of the bifhopric of Durham. The Scots had concealed themfelves among the long yellow broom that covered the plain ; five or fix hundred of them were killed. 374 Border Minjireljy. and four hundred made prifoners. They afterwards called the road over the plain " The 111 Raid." Hea- ton in the Ballad feems to have performed a fimilar exploit. Where He at on cowers Jae ftill. He was the Chieftain of the Caftle of Heaton, a ftrong fortrefs of a fquare form, overhanging the banks of the Till. And gathering round Gray Copeland's 'Towers. Copeland Caftle was anciently the refidence of that celebrated warrior John de Copeland, who took the King of Scotland prifoner at the battle of Neville's Crofs near Durham. It is clofe to Millfield. Their Slogan rends the Jkies. The gathering word peculiar to a certain clan or fet of people, was termed Slogan or Slughorn. They fought mid reek and fiifling low. The ufual method of expelling defenders from for- treffes, where the chambers were vaulted, and formed a lodgment which was capable of holding out a con- fiderable time, was by fetting fire to wet ftraw in the lower rooms. Teviot may weepy her Shirra lies. The Douglafles were the hereditary fheriffs of Te- Heat on s Raid, 375 viotdale, and the band of Teviot forayers were under command of their gallant Sheriff. Exploits of furprife and reprifal were not derogatory to the chivalrous auf- pices under which fuch men as Douglas held their military honour ; and even an attempt was made by the Percy and the Douglas, on the Eaftern Borders in 1457, "together" as the chronicle avows; but it proved abortive. Heaton's Raid. EATON to the north has gane, Wi' fifty bowmen keen, The chief he kens their worth, ha' they In many a brulzie been. They've cowered down in Millfield Plain, And hid them In the broom, And there they watch wi' bended bow. Till the Teviot forays come. The Shirra's brought the Douglas out, Wi' Jeddart ftaves three fcore ; Forbye a fwatch o' Stalwart Scots, From Teviot's wooded fhore. Heatofi s Raid. 377 There's not a breath o' the Simmer's air, To ruffle the waters o' Till ; Nor a hawkis eye can ken the fpot. Where Heaton cowers fae ftill. The Scots hae pafs'd the Border march, And are fcattered hotch potch wife ; And gath'ring roun Gray Copeland's Towers, Their Slogan rends the ikies. Copeland he heard the Teviot fpears, Gang dirl upon his gate ; And from the fhot hole abune he cried, " Wha's hacking there fae late ?" " Come down, faufe Copeland, ope your door, . Or we fma' mercy fhew ; 'Twere better ye rendert up your truft. Ere your roof- tree's in a low." Bauld Copeland anfwered, " Try your teeth Upon my outward door. Many ha' threeped the like to me. And vapoured fae before." 378 Border Minjlreljy, Then they brought forth the tar barrell Wi' ihuggs and greenwood fhaw, Wi' pikes o' grafs, and babs o' wool. And fire fet to them a'. There rofe a cry, " They flee, they fall. For the poftern door is brunt ; " Heaton he rofe up from the ling, " Ife pay them for that lunt. " Ye hae been kind to Copeland's Lord, The devil ne'er was mae ; There's thofe fhall mourn in Teviot dale. That e'er ye cam awae." Stout Heaton cried, " My laddies up, Ilk pay a Scotch thief's hide, They'fe get a waught o' a Border fpear. That's wearifome to bide." They fprung upon the Scots fae faft. In deadly collie clofe ; Heaton cried out, " Nae lang fhots, lads, Tak fwords, fling by your bows." Heat 072$ Raid. 379 The Scots furpriz'd, ftill ftoutly fought, And many a ghafhly wound, With blow and paik from fword and fpear, Stretch'd Scotfmen on the ground. They fought 'mid reek, and ftifling low. But ufelefs were the fpears ; For Heaton as the flames rofe high. Dung them a' right ow'r the fliairs. Some lap from windy's, fome frae baulks. Sine out frae gate and ward. And many a haickit blow was gien. And dying groans ware heard. Heaton thrafhed them like the corn. With his fatal flinging tree ; Teviot may weep, her Shirra lies Wi' mony Scots out owre the lea. Few gat to flight — in broken rinks ; Douglas will never march again. And Teviot fpearmen long may rue Bauld Heaton's raid on Millfield Plain. The Gramarye. 'T^HIS Ballad is the producflion of the fame author -*- as the precedhig. The ftory of the Enchanted Caftle is legendary, though I fufped the author has borrowed fome traditionary matter, refpedling an en- chantment faid to have exifted in the old fea-girt Caftle of Dunftanborough. The belief in fpirits, enchant- ments and wizards, exifted long and faithfully in the vulgar creed, and more efpecially upon the Borders. As one inftance of a wizard Chieftain we may mention the mighty Lord Soulis, of the ftrong Caftle of Her- mitage, (See Ley den's Ballad on the fame). ^aint gramarye and /pell. Gramarye is a fpecies of charm poflefting the pro- perty of benumbing all the faculties, mental and bodily. The term " Wizard " feems to have been applied to perfons whofe talents and purfuits placed them above the level of the vulgar. At the period when Britifh The Gramarye. 381 Hiftory commenced, we find the marvellous Merlin or Myridon the Wild, and Michael Scott, magicians of notorious fame. It/aid, the mighty leaves his love. Tradition ever tenacious of the marvellous, relates that a certain Lord of Dunftanborough, who was a mighty necromancer, was at length deprived of his power by the Arch Demon who had conferred it on him. The chieftain was charmed, with his bugle, fword and hounds, in one of the vaults of that ancient fortrefs. There Is fome fimilarity between this ftory and that of Lord Soulis of Hermitage ; perhaps the Incidents are Interwoven, as almoft every caflle had fomething mar- vellous attached to It ; and tranfmitted to pofterity as they were, only through the medium of recitation, many feparate tales were blended together, and inci- dents, once unconneded, through the lapfe of time came to be united Into one and the fame legendary tale. The hero of this Ballad and the preceding is the fame. The Gramarye. T was a merry company. Were met in Heaton's wizard hall. The fport had been amongft the fhaws. On Millfield Plain they kicked the ball. The bicker did they bend fa bauld, When at the height o' a' their mirth, A minftrel ftepped into the midft. And gave a fpring was little worth. " Gentles," he faid, " the harp's fhrill founds Awake the hall with other ftrains ; And deftly round the wine cup flows, Whilft care may doff her laithly chains.'* The Gramarye. 383 'Twas Duncan's harp o' powerful fpell. Had oft made Cheviot's echoes groan. When of Childe Wynd, the minftrel fang. Of Ida's fnake, or Spindelfton. That auncient minftrel loved to (peak Quaint gramarye and fpell, Of wizard, elf, or mountain fay. Or grewfome tales to tell. The Cheviot bard to Heaton gives The foul o' gloomieft pain ; My voice maun fpeak o' what is dune. Albeit in faddened ftrain. The mountain eagle's wing is fpread. He proudly rides the gale. Turns on the fun his piercing eye. As tho' he fcorn'd the vale : But he maun ftoop, his flight is flown. His rooft no more hell gain, Nor from his eyrie peak look down. Out owre the fell and plain. o 84 Border Mi?tjlreljy. 'Tis feven long years, fince to thy grafp Sage Michel gave a charmed fword. With bow firings made o' lifted fand. Far tougher than a filken cord. No keen arrow, or Border fpear. Can pierce thy elfin mail. No truncheon cleave thy proud helmet. No axe againft thy fhield prevail. Thy bugle is a fairy gift, And loud as the thunder's roar ; Thy blood hounds are baith fwift and ftrong. To pull down deer or boar. Thy power no wizard e'er pofTefl:, Tho' fkilled in myftic dye ; Thefe towers that long have flood the blafl. Were raifed by Gramarye. Thy matchlefs fkill foon fpread afar. And Border Chieftains feared thy arm ; What mortal man in the braying fight. Could fland thy fword of charm ? The Gramarye. 385 In fairy land, for three long years, Thou'ft led a life of mirthfu' glee. Where nought thy ravifh'd ears could meet But elfin minftrelfy. Thy raven eye nought fouler met Than wee Queen Mab and all her train ; Where, 'mid the nymphs of Faery land, A ladye didft thou gain. Falfe Lord, you plighted her a vow. No earthly maid fhould ihare Thy heart ; 'tis broken : witnefs now This fweet companion fayre. Thy warlock power is reft and torn. Thy fword thou fhalt not wield, In headlong chafe thou ne'er fhalt hunt. Nor ride to battle field. Return to Faery Land, faufe lord. For broken vows atone ; And yield unto thy Faery Queen, Thy love fhe claims her own. c c 386 Border Minjlreljy. One token of Queen Mab her ikill, When thou art gone, fhe will difplay, The owl fhall couch on thy hearth-ftane, Thefe walls be fcattered like fea fpray." The minftrel melted into air. The hall was filled with unearthly found ; The elfin lights play on the wall. The thunder echoes all around. Up flarted Heaton, his awfu' voice Above the roar were heard its tones ; And laughter loud, and fhrieking mirth. Were ftrangely mixt wi' dying groans. There rofe a fmoke that none could fee. So thick and blinding did it fpread. And flames burft from this canopy. And filled the bridal hall with dread. Next came a wind, that blew fo loud The oakis bent upon the hill ; Each tower rocked with mighty force. Nor could the neighboring rocks lie flill.. The Gramarye. 387 The bride's fair face was blanchit fore, And the light of terror was in her eye ; Heaton he fpak fome words o' love, And ca'd for a toaft to his ain roof tree. The reek flew off from the bridal board, And a bairnie clad in white fl:ood there ; A little flame burnt on his head. And his face was like a woman's, fayre. Its little voice came loud and flirill. The guefl:s were fl:unn'd to hear its found, A thoufand echoes feemed to crowd Within the vaulted chaumer round. It faid, " The mighty leaves his love. The plume is frae his bonnet torn. We claim Lord Heaton as our prey. His gentle bride his lofs may mourn. " His hounds fhall flumber out the time, Here filent hang his bugle horn ; His fword of Faery Land fliall rufl, In Border ftrife oft proudly borne. 388 Border Minjlreljy. " We fhut, we lock this vaulted door, No mortal fhall its threfhold pafs ; Woe to the wight who enters in This chamber, with its door of brafs. " Yet to the Knight that's juft and brave, At feven years end we grant a boon ; Free leave he has to enter here. When at mirk midnight rides the moon. " When 'tis the vigil of Saint Bride, Then may he enter void of fear ; Step to the {lumbering maiden's fide. And wind the bugle fhrill and clear. " Draw the bright faulchion from the fheath. And dareful roufe the fleeping hounds ; But death fhall hap, if cows his heart. He ne'er fhall quit our chamber's bounds. " But if he aft a warrior's part. And bear him as a knight fhould do. The Fairies {hall not injure him. We love a heart that's leal and true." The Gramarye, 389 It ceafed, and with a ftrange contraft. It gently foughed around ; That awful voice its tones did change. And breathed a filvery found. Then ftarted Heaton from his feat. With a deep and dreadful oath ; " Thou' ft bearded me, now will we fee If thou art faulchion proof." He ftruck full at that little child, A deep and deadly blow ; But he ftrake at air, for his fword's point pierced The board, an ell or moe. And iic loud laughter echoed roun'. As vaniftied the child away ; He lightly pafTed the outward ward. Then flickering made no ftay. The levin fire came from the lift. And the thunder brattled by ; And a fhriek rofe up frae Heaton's lips. As in tortured agony. 390 Borde?^ Miitft reify. And there was a noife o' chariot wheels. When an army's hoft have fled ; And a ftunning found, like Tweed waters When they foaming break their bed. Then came the balmy weltern breeze. The ruined walls that fwept, The pale moon glimmered ayont the brae. And night dew on them wept. The morning cam', nae towers fl:and : The ground is all a wild ; For fcattered in the lone court yard. Are fragments rent and pyled. The guefts are fled, and in their fl:eads Rowte gimmers and the fl:ot ; For defolation, gaunt and drear. Darkles around that fpot. The Death of Bawtie. Very old Verfion, firft publifhed. S Bawtie fled frae the Langton tower, Wi' his troop alang the way ; By the Corneyfoord an auld man flood. And to him did Bawtie fay : cc Prythee tell unto me, thou weird auld man, Whilk name this ford doth bear ?" ' 'Tis the Corneyfoord," quo the wlerd auld man, " And thou'lt crofs it alive nae main" *' Gin this be Corneyfoord indeed. The Lord's grace bide wi' me. For I'll na get hame to my ain dear land. That lies far owre the fea : 392 Border Minjlrelfy, " For I was tauld by a feer fo auld. That when I fuld crofs thilk ford. My hours were numbered ilka ane. And to fa' beneath the fword." " Then ride thee faft, thou Knicht fae braw," The auld man now did fay ; " Thou'rt fafe gin thou canft reach Dunbar, Afore the gloamin grey." Then Bawtie fled in furious fpeed Awa' like the wintry wind ; But the fiery Home an' his favage band Hard preft on him behind. 'Mang the lang broom on the flany moor. Some fell and fome were flain ; But Bawtie fpurred on wi' hot fpeed. The Lammermuir to gain. Syne doun the hills to the eaft o' Dunfe, He rade ryghte furiouflie. Till near the houfe o' lone Cramcrooke, Deep laird in a bog was he. The Death of Bawtie. 393 Then fiery Home wi' a fliout an yell. Cried, " Bawtie, I'll hae ye now ;" As his fteed funk in the quiv'ring marlh, Whare the white bog lilies grow. And the men o' the Merfe around him ran, Wi' their lang fpears glentin gay ; Grim Wedderburn, wi' fury wild, Rufhed on to the bluidy fray. The fray was hot and foon was paft. And fome faces there lay pale ; And the herd boy flood on the hill aghaft At the flaughterin in the vale. Their weapons gude were ftain'd wi' blude O' the Warden and his men ; Grim Home hewed off poor Bawtie's head. And left his bouk in the glen. Then they ftripped off his broidered veil, His helmet eke and his mail ; Syne fhroudlefs laid him down to his reft. Where ftrife fhall nae mair affail. 394 Border Minjireljy. Then light and gay the Homes returned, Wi' brave Bawtie's head on a fpear, Whilk their Chieftan tied to his faddle bow, By the long and flowing hair : An' they fet his head on the towerin wa's. Of the caftle o' Home fae high. To moulder there wi' the fun and the wind. Till mony lang years go bye. The leddies o' France may wail and mourn. Wail and mourn full fair ; For the bonny Bawtie's lang brown locks They'll ne'er fee waving mair. Bewkley Blue Stane. THIS is a fragment, and appears for the firft time probably in print. Bewkley or Bekely is a fmall village near Elfdon, a wild mountainous region, inhab- ited by an uncouth fet of agricultural labourers. The "putting" or Hfting of the "Bewkley Blue Stane" is often reforted to at holidays or fairs held in the im- mediate neighbourhood of the Stone. It muft have been a fevere trial for a bridegroom ; but there is a tradition, that fome fair damfel won a hufband by raif- ing it in her arms, in the fame manner that Diccon of Bewick wins the " tochered Nelly of Elfdon." " Put- ting" the Stone, or throwing the hammer, is a feat re- quiring confiderable ftrength at the Border games; the diftance thrown by the champion of the " heavy putting " is very great, and would be incredible if not witnefled. Thefe hardy exercifes naturally have a ten- dency to make the Borderer ftrong, athletic, and capa- ble of great bodily exertion. The " foot ball" play is 39^ Border Minjl reify. ftill profecuted with great vigour on Shrove Tuefday in Ahiwick. The Duke of Northumberland gives a certain fum and a football, which is contefted for in the park before the Caftle, by married men and bache- lors, the latter generally gaining the vidory, and carry- ing off the ball in triumph. Parker fays in his Hiftory of Northumberland, " The agricultural labourers of Northumberland are a hardy race of men, capable of enduring confiderable fatigue, and retaining all that refolution in enterprife which diftinguifhed their an- ceftors. They are generally of a tolerable height, well formed, and remarkably ftout, fo much fo that it has been frequently remarked, the Northumberland Mili- tia covered more ground than any other regiment in his Majefty's fervice." With fuch ftrong " bany" fellows to compete with, Robin's chance muft have been a defperate one. But the failors and keelmen of the Tyne are proverbial for their ftrength and agility. The Hiftory above referred to informs us that '^ The feamen engaged in the coal trade are diftinguifhed as a moft robuft, adive, and fear- lefs race of men ; the nutritious viduals on which they fubfift, and the hard labour they perform, brace their finews, and give them an unequalled degree of ftrength; while from their hazardous and rapid voyages they foon become expert in feamanfliip, and accuftomed to death and danger in every form. Hence the coal trade Bewkley Blue Stane. 397 has always been efteemed as a valuable nurfery for feamen, and the hardy and bold failors it furnifhes conftitute the pride and ftrength of the Britifh navy. The celebrated Captain Cook began his eventful career as a failor in the coal trade." The drovers of Morpeth, from one of whom I re- ceived this fnatch, are famed for their boifterous jokes and demeanour. It is a common faying with them, when difcourfing of any new comer, " Whare comes he frae ; Morpeth ? Dam him, let him loofe, he'll fend," (i. e. feed and thrive.) The old fports, exercifes, recreations, &c. of the lower clafs of the Borderes are now materially on the wane, except where the Etal games, or Wooler, or Bel- ford, offer fmall prizes for their revival. In the manlieft and greateft times of " merrie England," rural paftimes and athletic exercifes were encouraged ; nor were harm- lefs in-door amufements negleded or defpifed. Amongft the games and fports which are ftill in vogue with the youth of Northumberland, may be mentioned, run- ning, leaping, wreftling, bowling, putting the ftone, throwing the hammer (this laft, decidedly of Sclavonic origin), football, (lot ball, prifon bars, drake and duck, handy cappy, fpinny wye, quoits, handy dandy, &c. One game ftrongly reprefents the warlike feats and freebooting practices of the ancient Northumbrians: it is called " beggarly Scot." Bewkley Blue Stane. EWKLY Blue Stane, Bewkley Blue Stane, Many a youth has broken his bane, However fo good at a putting were he. Nelly of Elfdon, with kyes and with land, Shall marrow the man who lifts Bewkley Blue Stane : They come from the eaft, the weft, and the north, To put for her tocher oh faith they are fain. Bewkley Blue Stane, Bewkley Blue Stane, Never a youth of them a' has thee ftirr'd ; There's Willy of Ovingham, Haltwhiftle Dick, And Billy of Reedwater, Otterburn's herd. Bewkley Blue St am, 399 And Charley of Framlington, Watty of Cambo, With Roger of Wooler, are ftraining their back ; They grin as they ftrive, and they roar and they rive. And the bones and the finews ftretch out with a crack. Then Diccon of Bewick came into the midft, For a failor was Diccon, a fair feeing wight. And he threw off his jacket, and rolled up his fleeves, And grappled the Blue Stane wi' pith and wi' might. He raifed up the Stane from the ground to his haunch, Then fhoulder ways bore it ten paces on high. And told Nelly of Elfdon to fit on the top. And fegs with it Diccon o'er Cheviot could fly. Then Diccon took up the muckle Blue Stane, And flang it fix fhathmonts over the lea ; Ne'er a one there, had he been Wallace Wight, I trow could have lifted it up to his knee. Young Ratcliffe. THE hero of this Ballad, which appears for the firft time in print, was James Radcliffe, third Earl of Derwentwater, who was beheaded for high treafon on Tower Hill in 17 16. The circumftances that led to his untimely fate (for he was only in his 26th year) are fet forth in the Ballad. His laft requeft, to be buried with his anceftors at Dibfton, — a romantic fpot fituated on the banks of a fmall ftream that flows into the Tyne between Corbridge and Hexham, — was re- fufed ; but either a fham funeral took place, or his body was fecretly conveyed from London ; for, on the family vault being opened fome years ago, the corpfe was found in a high ftate of prefervation. The ample eftates of the Ratcliffe family were declared forfeited ; and transferred to the ufe of Greenwich Hofpital. Young Ratcliffe. OUNG Ratcliffe looked frae Dllfton ha'. When he heard the trumpets bray ; " And wha comes here in fie effeir ? " This nobleman did fay. There looted his ladye by his fide. And a buirdly dame was fhe. She cam from a fliock of ungentle bluid. Albeit of high degree. " It means," quo' fhe, " my gentle luve, Jamie has taen the bent. And whofo follows not his flag Sail never be content. D D 40 2 Border Minjlrelfy. " The pick of a' the weftern hills. With nordern Billies to boot, Have thrown up caps for bonny James, Sprung frae a royal root. " Why hangs my luve ahint the reft. Why mope in fullen mood ? One of lefs wealth wad be content. To peril lands and blood." Quo' RatclifFe, " Gin that I had lefs, I might be moved to fight ; But then to lofe my heritage Wad be a forry fight." " And fhall it be my lord does halt. Not knowing what to do ? The beft of fchemes will often fail, If not gane boldly thro." Out anfwered Derwentwater bold, " Why prop a falling tree ? When does the Stuart's kingly caufe. Lie rotting on the lea. Young Ratcliffe. 403 " III fpeed and bloodfhed never yet Brought fortune to a caufe ; Never a man out profpered right, That broke his country's laws. " If he had right, and I lefs wealth, I might adventure more ; But honey luve, thou knowft fmall fhips Should keep well in the fhore." Loud ftorm't the Lady o' Dilfton Hall, Wi' a glunching o' difdain ; " When others feek the fmile o' kings, To ftay were ruth and fhame. " How could I live to hear my luve Shamed as a coward man ? Were I a Lord, in the foremoil rank I'd fight for King and Ian'." " Och," then quo' he, " my hinny fweet, Wha nothing has to tyne May boldly fight, not he who owns Sic hills and dales as mine. 404 Border Minjlreljy. " I could not lofe my bonny holts. Or fhaws and knowes fo green, Where poppling by the mofs grown ftanes, The waters flalh between. " Were all around me not my ain, I'd freely gan the gate ; Wha has nae fortune fights more bold Than one with large eftate." Quo' fhe, " Shame fa' upon RatcliiFe, Or ever I was told. My hufband fnooves awa from fight. For greed of yellow gold. *^ That ever weary waefu' gear Should mar fo fair a caufe. That ever to ftand by Jamie's fide Should make my Ratcliffe paufe. " There's Kenmure's up wi' the weftern lads, Roy wi' the Highlandmen, And Lochiefs clan, wi' pipes to their teeth. Are fkirling down the Glen ; Toung Rat cliff e, 405 " There's Fenwickes, and Hemes, and Fofters too, Wi' the feck of Cumberland, Are ganging to tryft on Stagfhaw Bank, To meet Northumberland. " Think not I'd peril thy fweet life. Thy fame more rich I prize ; A coward's name," quo' the wily dame, " When branded never dies. " The fmalleft drop o' my Ratcliffe's blood Is far more dear to me Than all the ryches ever funk In the waters of the fea." He fprung away wi' a brow o' fire. Gave three fkips thro' the ha' ; And cried, " Hurrah for Jamie yet. What ever may befa\ " Go faddle me my Marigold, That browfes on the lea ; My father's helmet and his fword. So likewife bring to me." 40 6 Border Minjlreljy, The robin cheeped a dolorous note, With the corn craik from the lea, The owlet gave an eerie fkriegh. As he louped to faddle tree. He looked down on the fhaws and woods. Syne up to his caftle hall ; On the waving trees, and flowery banks. By the burnie's wimphng fall. It raifed fore tews in Ratcllffe's breaft. To leave his plenifhed houfe ; And the grooms out cried, " The game's nae worth. Sin Ratcliife fings fae croufe." But he faw the eye of his buird CountefTe Glint blythe and bonnily ; *' Forth fortune," he cried, " and fetters fill. Heigh, Jamie oure the lea." Young RatclifFe called for the ilirrup cup. Ere he rode down the brae ; He'fe bid them never ftint the wine. Whatever men may fay. Toung Ratcliffe. 407 He flung the glafs right oure his fhouther, When he had drained the toaft ; He kift his glov't hand to the Ha', For oh he loved it mofl;. There's fl;ir upon Newcaflile Streets, In Morpeth Town there's noife ; And Berwick Johnnies wi" Cambo BiUies, Fratch wi' the Hexham boys. The brafli o' Alnwick fliout and fling, Deil gin they never tire ; And the news o' the rife thro' the country flies. Like the flafli o' levin fire. To Jamie's flag cam ridin in. The flower of all that's fayre ; But the faufe Joblins, wi' the Johnfons coarfe, Gude faith lad were na there. There was a battle in the North, 'Twas ficcan a bloody fight. Where many noblemen were flain. And young Ratcliffe gat the wyte. 4o8 Border Minjireljy , That ficcan a caufe fuld ever fail ! The prince has fled the land ; Wi' Balmerin and auld Lovat, Bauld RatclifFe take his fland. And he has written a lang letter. Unto his Lady fair, *' Ye maun come up to London town. To fee your Lord once mair." When firfl flie looked the letter on. She was baith red and rofy ; But ere fhe read a word or twa. She wallowt like a lily. " Gae get to me my gude grey fleed. My menzie a gae wi' me. For I fliall neither eat nor drink Till London town fhall fee me." And flie has muntit her good grey fteed. Her menzie a gaed wi' her ; And neither did fhe eat or drink Till London Town did fee her. Young Rat cliff e. 409 O ihe fell on her bended knees, I wat fhe's pale and weary ; *' O pardon, pardon, noble King, And gie me back my dearie. " I hae born fons to my Ratcliffe dear. The laft ne'er faw his daddie ; Oh pardon, pardon, noble King, Pity a waefu' ladie." " Go bid the headis-man make hafte," Our King did loudly cry ; " For as I live, or wear a crown. Yon bold traytor fKall die." Kenmures came, and Fenwickes ran. And they were ftark and fteady ; And a the word among them a'. Was *' Ratcliffe, keep ye ready." An aged man at the King's right hand. Says " Noble King, but hear me ; Gar her tell down ten thoufand pounds. And gie her back her dearie." 41 o Border Minjlreljy, Quo' Geordie, " Not for all the goud That ever a King could tell. It fhall not fave young Ratcliffe's life. From the axe he's earned full well." And then appeared the fatal block. And fyne the axe to head him ; And Ratcliffe coming down the ftair, Wi' bands o' airn they lead him. But tho' he was chain'd in fetters ftrong. That gyved his noble limb. There was nae ane in a' the court. That looked fae bra' as him. He clafped his lady by the waift. And kift her lips fae red ; " Be mindful of my youngeft bairn. When is his father dead." Geordy has taen fae fair a fright. He's no fafe in his hall ; And the tane and the tither maun hauld their gabs. Young Ratcliffe's head maun fall. Young Rat cliff e, 411 His blood has watted the Tower block. And dyed his yellow hair ; His Countefs fits wailing in Dilfton Halls, But RatclifFe is na there. Black Adam of Cheviot. THIS fplendid Ballad was recited to me by an aged hind, on the farm of Mr. R. of Middleton near the Cheviot. I have fupplied a line here and there to make it complete. The hero of it, Black Adam (called the Rider of Cheviot), was a well known freebooter, who frequented the Cheviot foot with his band, and he muft alfo have prowled about the Eildon Hills, for Sir W. Scott mentions him in the notes to the " Lay," and even intended to have made him the hero of a romance, the firft chapter of which was written in very early life. It was to have been called " Black Adam of the Moat, or the Rider of Teviotdale" {See Lockharfs Life). On the fide of the mountain called the Cheviot is a mon- ftrous glen or ravine, parting the green and level breaft of the mountain from the commencement of its lofty peak. There is a tradition in the neighbourhood, that the freebooter was wont to leap this awful chafm, and fleep fecurely from interruption in a cave on the other Black Adam of Cheviot, 413 fide. He perifKed it is faid by the means narrated in this Ballad. I have never feen a copy of it to my know- ledge, although I have heard feveral perfons fing fiiatches of it, whence I conclude it muft have been very popular. " Gudefave us, my lad,'' quoth his uncle, " / truft ye are nofey." " Fey," a Scottifh or Border expreffion ; there is a fuperftitious notion prevalent, that a perfon in exube- rant fpirits, who conduds himfelf extravagantly is near his death, which is termed being " fey." She gave him ft c can a haJJi in the face. Bafh, a heavy blow. So Shakfpere in his " Troilus and Creflida" makes Ajax fay : " Then with my armed fill I'll pafh him in the face." When they had got to the Roman camp, Whare the kettles boil and foam. On the high ground behind Wooler are the remains of feveral Roman camps. Several wells impregnated with gas, bubble up around the bafe of the hill, and are called the kettles by the country people. / thought could hreafted Horef don's Hill. Horefdon is the commencing chain of hills that lead up to their monarch the huge Cheviot. Black Adam of Cheviot. AE fetch to me the gude red wine. Short cake, and dainty bread ; And let the vivers and the meats Upon the board be fpread. " Pit a' the ferving men in fuits Of ginger and of blue. And let the mynftrels blaw their pipes, When they hear the lads halloo. " The gude wine Hands in leather jack, An the dainty cakes o' bread. The meats and vivers wait the bride. Upon the table fpread." Young Fletcher and the lads o' Till Are awa to Eglingham, To fetch the heirefs o' the ha' To bonnie Wooperton. Black Adam of Cheviot. 415 " See ilka thing ftands for the feaft. Is Paul the Piper come ? " " He's warming his hands, and having a crack Wi' the cuik, at the kitchen lum." " Betty the cuik will gouft his gab, Wi' a foppy in the pan ; Gae fee frae aiF the hillock top. If the bride comes yet, my man ? " The page ran once, the page ran twice, Out oure the broken lea ; " A herd o' fheep and twa three kyne Is a' that I can fee." " Gae try agayn, and tout wi' care ; " Away the laddie ran ; " I fee a crow and a flock of gulls. Flying for Coldingham." Sair did the auncient butler fret. Or he heard the young men's fhoute ; And Jock and Tam wi' a' the jades Ran frae the kitchen out. 41 6 Border Minjlrelfy, The bridegroom lifted frae the horfe His luvely winfome bride ; She blufhed as in her gawzy veil She fought her face to hide. But her een and cheeks and cherry lips Cam blinking thro' the veil. As on a night frae fhimmering clouds There keeks the moonis pale. They fired guns and fet up fhouts, Wi' fie a deafening fkirl. That the auld black rafters o' Wooperton Did tremble wi' the dirl. " But whare's the prieft ? " quo' ane o' them, " Shame fa his lazy hide ; Is this a tyme he fuld be to fetch, An broughten hame the bride ? " " Hoot laddie," quo' his uncle then, " It's no that far he dwells ; Gae leave the bride and her may dens A wee unto thir fels." Black Adam of Cheviot, 417 Sae cantily, fae merrily, The young men gaed awa, Wight Fletcher, bridifgroom I wat. Was foremoft o' them a'. He rade and walloped owre the green. In fie a wanton way ; " Gude fave us, my lad," quoth his uncle, " I truft ye are no fey." The bride looked out at her window, And thocht her luver lang ; Juft then in lap a hangie chiel, Wi' fie an awfu bang. There followed him anither ane. And three mair tumbled in ; " Gude day, my dawtie, I fall mar Your pawkie gay wedding. " I am the rider o' Cheviot, Gin ye na come wi' me. It's like your bonny gay bridegroom. You never mair may fee." E E 41 8 B 07' der Mi7ijl reify. They robbit the women o' thir necklace, Gauds, pearlins, a' they could find ; Even the pin in thir kerchief neuk They did na. leave behind. The rider thruft his bany honde Untill the brides bofome ; She gave him ficcan a bafh in the face. He ftaggered thro' the room. *' I ne'er took blow frae a mortal thing. Nor fall ye live to brag ; Ife mak ye rue that bitter blow. Or ever that honde ye wag." He threw the bride down on the floor. And rifled a' her charms ; He brufhed her fair cheek wi' his black beard. As flie warfled in his armes. He raviflied her o' her virtue, Whilft his comrades kept the door ; The puir bride fliruggled fearfully Wi' him upon the floor. Black Adam of Cheviot, 419 " O God !" fhe cried, " is there na help ? In heavenly things na grace." She feized him by his lang black hair. And tore his robber face. He lap up wi' a fearfu aith, And ftruck her thro' the breaft ; " I hae had my revenge on ye, An Fletcher fall tak the reft. " He's hunted me like a tod or brock, Hym and hys billies fae fine ; Gude faith but he'll hae little heart, To birl about the wine." There rofe a yell without the doore, And fhots flew thro' the room ; Two of Black Adam's camerades Were flain in the yellow broome. Black Adam turned aboot to fly, And barely quat the floor. Syne louped frae off the window fill. When Wight Fletcher gained the door. 42 o Border Miitjlrelfy, There lay the bride upon her fide. Like a rifled ear o' corn ; Wight Fletcher heard as there he fl:ude, Black Adam's laugh o' fcorn. There flione a dedly paffion forthe. In Fletcher's weeping e'en ; Some ruflied to horfe, fome fired fliots, As Adam fled bedeen. Some called ior a leech, but Fletcher fliook His head wi' hailing eyes, " A' the leeches in Chirfl:endom, Could never mak her rife." " Up," cries the uncle, " rin the while. Hereafter mayfl: thou weepe ; Gae hunt the rider, ere he gains The Cheviot's rocky flieep." Fletcher he tore the bride's kerchief Frae afF her bluidy breafl: ; Bent doun an on her lily lips, A long long kyfs he prefl:. Black Adam of Cheviot. 4.2 He lap up like a wild fire flaught, And thro' the window banged ; The bloodhonde has nae a fleeter foot, Or yet fo deadly fanged. Black Adam fled upon the fit, To Cheviot's high mountain, And a fcore o' bridefmen followed him, As hard as they coulde fl:rain. Thir horfes were na fient a ufe, Sic ground wad kill a brute. So ilka ane lap aff the meares. And followed on the foot. There ne'er was fleeter foot of man. Than Adam the rider had ; Wight Fletcher was a bounding deer. As he raced thro' reife and fliad. When they had got to Humbledowne, Sax o' the bridefmen dropt ; Three more fell by auld Mofi^at's Mill, And five at Wooler fliopt ; But on fl:ill running flieadily, Fletcher the craggies topped. 42 2 Border Mi7ijireljy. Black Adam gained the Horfedoun foot. That leads to Cheviot fell, He threw off Jerkin, bannet and dirk. And mounted up the dell. When they had got to the Roman camp, I Where the kettles boil and foam. There were but three men on the lea. That ftruggled feebly on. The fyrft he was the Black Rider, Wight Fletcher was the neift, The third he cam intill a ftand. Dead beat and fair diftrefled. Black Adam gave a loud halloo, As he fled like the wind ; Wight Fletcher's fhout cam on his ear. As he ilrained on behind. As they raced on owr muir and fell. Up Hedgeups lowring glen ; Never an eye could ever fee, Mair than thofe twafome men. Black Adam of Cheviot. 423 The fyrft ran wi' a ftaggering fpeed. Like one in fair diftrefs ; The fecond fteadily cam on, Wi' fure and even pace. " Thou trieft me hard," quo' Black Adam, " Never a mortal wight I thought could breafted Horefdon's hill, Wi' half my fpeed and might." He rattled up the craggy bank. Syne owr the whinftane grey ; The blood frae mouth and noftrils gufhed As he fell on the lea. He heard the fhout of the bold Fletcher, And he gathered up his fpeed ; Away, away up the lonefome glens, Whare the eagle and tod may breed. " Gin I can hold out but a wee, Ife gain my rocky cave. And there I may the Wight Fletcher, Within its Ihelter brave." 424 Border Minjl reify. He cam unto a little ftream, That murmured owre the ftone ; And there headlong into the water Black Adam has him thrown. He wat his forehead, arms and breaft. For a minute's fpace or foe ; Then ftarted once more up the glen. For he heard his foe's halloo. Never wi' fie fweet pleafure Did Adam drain the wine. As in that ftreme which runs to wafte. When he drank at matyn time. "Wight Fletcher bounded by the ftreme, Tho' the fweat hailed from his brow ; He had no time to tarry there. For water drynking now. Black Adam's blood alone can quench The thirft his herte within ; Still upward toiled the freebooter. As harde as he could win. Black Adam of Cheviot, 425 Part Second. ^VTO found was there, but the tinkling rill O'er the chucky ftanes its bed. Or the goat and fheep on Cheviot fide, Or the fcriek o' a greedy gled. 'Tis vefper time, and Wight Fletcher Wi' footfteps faint and worn, Climbs the fteep bank and rugged path, Wi purpofe fell and ftern. Now struggling in a torrent's bed. Thro' brufhwood brake and briar ; Now panting up the hilly brae, Wi' a ravin herte o' fire. Black Adam gained a piece o' fward, 'Twas welcome to his feet, Whare towring peak and hilly fheugh, Look'd from their lofty feat. 426 Border Mii^Jl reify. Before Black Adam yawn'd a gulf. Some hundred feet adown. Glens mountain fource amid the ftanes. Fought on wi' dads o' foam. The gulph was {^N^n yards acrofs_, I wat but It was mair ; Black Adam muft the ravine loup. Or he can gain his lair. Sair fhook the limbs o' Black Adam, He wad have ftaid his lane ; But Wight Fletcher wi' his fhort fword. Upon his footfteps came. He took a run o' twenty yards, I wat he did his befl ; He lap at the fheugh wi' a giant's nerve. And lichted on his breaft. There hung he like a little child. For the flrength was gone from him ; Sair, fair he fought to gain the bank, Wi' weak and trembling limb. Black Adam of Cheviot. 427 He fcrambled up the rocky fide. And fell doun helplefily ; As Wight Fletcher cam' o'er the brae. His foe's efcape to fee. He faw Black Adam tak the leap, (It bears his name this day) ; Wha mocked the youth right fcornfully. As in his cave he lay. Wight Fletcher fat doun on the grund. And gnafhed his teeth in pain. To hae thus courfed him o'er the lea. Yet lofe him in the main. He groaned wi' rage and fore diftrefs. Till he faw his true love's kerch ; And the blood upon it hearted him. Some other way to ferche. " Gae back, gae back thou Wight Fletcher, Never a man but thou Could keep a pace wi' my running, To Cheviot's lofty brow." 428 Border Minjl reify. Fletcher out held the hankercher, Dadded wi' gouks o' blood. And fhook it 'fore Black Adam's eyes, In wild and favage mood. " The morn this napkin lay upon. As whyte a breaft as fnow ; As pure a herte in gentlenefs. As woman's e'er could knowe. " This bluid flowed from as chafle bodie, As ever drew in breathe ; It was thy deed to ravifh her. And give her crewel deathe. " But God do foe to mee and mine. And hunt me frae this erthe, Gif I not in thy cay tiff's bluid, Wafh thifen handkerchef." " Do fae and welcome ftill, my lad, When to my cave ye win ; Ye fuld the otter catch, gude faith. Or ere ye fell his fkin." Black Adain of Cheviot. 429 Fletcher looked up to the hills, He couldna win that way ; He glancit doun intill the ftreme, And that held him at bay. '^ O for the wings o' the bold falcon, To bear me owre that dyke ; O for the fpring o' the wild wull cat. And thy e'en out I'd pyke." He fat him doun fo thoughtfully. Black Adam thocht he flept. And wi' revenge and fair forrow, Wight Fletcher forely wept. And then he tried to force a laugh. And roared right joyoufly ; But oh his grief was fair to bide. As in his dark eye man mought fee. For as he laughed, doun his pale cheeks The rowling tears fell faft. Belying joy wi' fad forrow. But the pafTion did na laft. 43 o Border Mmjireljy. For foddenlle the thought it came, " Can I not lap the dyke ? For I have limbs and thews as gude As yonder mongrel tyke. " For I hae chafed far as he gaed. With bottom as gude as hym ; " Fletcher louped up and raxed himfel, And Ihook each ftiffening limb. He glancit owre the fearfu fteep. Then back he drewe a wee ; Black Adam rofe unto his feet Young Fletcher's loup to fee. He held a ftane in baith his hondes. And fwore fo fave his fowl. If Fletcher lap, to gar his bodie Into the ftream to roll. " Ife try your brag, ye mean caytiff," Quo' Fletcher, and lap the fheugh ; Black Adam wi' ane heavy pafh, Bluid frae his forehead drew. Black Adam of Cheviot, 43 i The blow it ftruck him off his feet, Or ere he gained the bank ; He gave Black Adam a ghaftly paik. And back Wight Fletcher fank. But as he flippit oure the edge. He clutched at his enemie. And hung oure yonder fearful fteep, Wi' ae grip o' Adam's knee. " Unloofe thy gripe, thou Wight Fletcher, And I will fpare thy life ; " The youth fmiled grimly on his foe, A warding in the ftrife. They tottered on the vara brink O' that precipice fo high ; Black Adam clung unto a rock, For he feared fie death to die. And now their fcowling een were clofe, And they fand each ithers breath, And every ftruggle Black Adam gave. Was nearer till his death. 43 2 Border Mi7ijlrelfy, The rock it flipped frae Adam's clutch, As he wrenchit bane and limb ; Fingers o' iron and nerves o' fteel, Wight Fletcher kept on him. Loud and lang Black Adam fcrieked. But naething Fletcher faid ; And there was neither twig or branch. Upon their rocky bed. Slowly right owre then they fell, For Fletcher his hold did keep ; A minute — and their twa bodies Went crafhing doune the fleep. There was a fplafh as the waters flew Half up the rugged dell ; The torrent rufhed and the water gullied. But a' was dethely ftill. THE END. Printed by C. Whittingham, Chifwick. It' : W-' UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. CAI JAIf 'S'A^ !BR. 41584 ■^ r C.C' U^ '7 t_; ^ _ r i- <. ^ c^ ."*n oj; C =0 o 1 ''^y^iv -> ''^i'U. ,4.0F i'' c;^" Cn 'v\EUNIV[^ ^ 1 <_) mn"^ ^ n c 6V Sia^,?rf.5?iO^LyBRARy FACILITY C3 33 000 297 957 3 3C1 t-1 ^^ :lOSANCELfX/ CO =0 > '^^/5}J3AINn-3Wv 1 ^OFCALIF0% ^^ ^(^Awyan-^^ >- c^ ^.) ^RARYQ^ ^ <: •33, rn I IT\,'-. ;: \-'~-- .^\^EUVIVER5'/A ^VlOSANCElfj> s r ? m. .m^A . u_ f |. r , CO i \>- *. 1 =» lL. „-Bi*^^ S 1 -< C^ ^t^y \Ci ■r/„u... . .,_>r CZ5 ^