Book XVI

.

Godscroft also, in his History of the House of Douglas, written in the reign of James VI., alludes more than once to the ballads current upon the border, in which the exploits of those heroes were celebrated. Such is the passage, relating to the death of William Douglas, Lord of Liddesdale, slain by the Earl of Douglas, his kinsman, his godson, and his chief[61]. Similar strains of lamentation were poured by the border poets over the tomb of the Hero of Otterbourne; and over the unfortunate youths, who were dragged to an ignominious death, from the very table at which they partook of the hospitality of their sovereign. The only stanza, preserved of this last ballad, is uncommonly animated--

Edinburgh castle, towne and toure, God grant thou sink for sinne! And that even for the black dinoure, Erl Douglas gat therein.

Who will not regret, with the editor, that compositions of such interest and antiquity should be now irrecoverable? But it is the nature of popular poetry, as of popular applause, perpetually to shift with the objects of the time; and it is the frail chance of recovering some old manuscript, which can alone gratify our curiosity regarding the earlier efforts of the border muse. Some of her later strains, composed during the sixteenth century, have survived even to the present day; but the recollection of them has, of late years, become like that of "a tale which was told." In the sixteenth century, these northern tales appear to have been popular even in London; for the learned Mr. Ritson has obligingly pointed out to me the following passages, respecting the noted ballad of _Dick o' the Cow_ (p. 157); "Dick o' the Cow, that mad demi-lance northern borderer, who plaid his prizes with the lord Jockey so bravely."--Nashe's _Have with you to Saffren-Walden, or Gabriell Harvey's Hunt is up_.--1596, 4to. _Epistle Dedicatorie_, _sig._ A. 2. 6. And in a list of books, printed for, and sold by, P. Brocksby (1688), occurs "Dick-a-the-Cow, containing north country songs[62]." Could this collection have been found, it would probably have thrown much light on the present publication: but the editor has been obliged to draw his materials chiefly from oral tradition.

[Footnote 61: "The Lord of Liddisdale being at his pastime, hunting in Ettrick forest, is beset by William, Earl of Douglas, and such as he had ordained for the purpose, and there asailed, wounded, and slain, beside Galsewood, in the year 1353, upon a jealousy that the earl had conceived of him with his lady, as the report goeth; for so sayeth the old song,

"The countess of Douglas out of her bower she came, And loudly there that she did call-- It is for the Lord of Liddisdale, That I let all these tears down fall."

"The song also declareth, how she did write her love-letters to Liddisdale, to dissuade him from that hunting. It tells likewise the manner of the taking of his men, and his own killing at Galsewood; and how he was carried the first night to Linden kirk, a mile from Selkirk, and was buried in the abbey of Melrose."--_Godscroft_, Vol. I. p. 144, Ed. 1743.

Some fragments of this ballad are still current, and will be found in the ensuing work.]

[Footnote 62: The Selkirkshire ballad of _Tamlane_ seems also to have been well known in England. Among the popular heroes of romance, enumerated in the introduction to the history of "_Tom Thumbe_," (London, 1621, bl. letter), occurs "Tom a Lin, the devil's supposed bastard." There is a parody upon the same ballad in the "_Pinder of Wakefield_" (London, 1621).]

Something may be still found in the border cottages resembling the scene described by Pennycuik.

On a winter's night, my grannam spinning, To mak a web of good Scots linnen; Her stool being placed next to the chimley, (For she was auld, and saw right dimly,) My lucky dad, an honest whig, Was telling tales of Bothwell-brigg; He could not miss to mind the attempt, For he was sitting pu'ing hemp; My aunt, whom' nane dare say has no grace, Was reading on the Pilgrim's Progress; The meikle tasker, Davie Dallas, Was telling blads of William Wallace; My mither bade her second son say, What he'd by heart of Davie Lindsay; Our herd, whom all folks hate that knows him, Was busy hunting in his bosom;

* * * * *

The bairns, and oyes, were all within doors;} The youngest of us chewing cinders,} And all the auld anes telling wonders.}

_Pennycuik's Poems_, p. 7.

The causes of the preservation of these songs have either entirely ceased, or are gradually decaying Whether they were originally the composition of minstrels, professing the joint arts of poetry and music; or whether they were the occasional effusions of some self-taught bard; is a question into which I do not here mean to enquire. But it is certain, that, till a very late period, the pipers, of whom there was one attached to each border town of note, and whose office was often hereditary, were the great depositaries of oral, and particularly of poetical, tradition. About spring time, and after harvest, it was the custom of these musicians to make a progress through a particular district of the country. The music and the tale repaid their lodging, and they were usually gratified with a donation of seed corn[63]. This order of minstrels is alluded to in the comic song of _Maggy Lauder_, who thus addresses a piper--

"Live ye upo' the border?"

By means of these men, much traditional poetry was preserved, which must otherwise have perished. Other itinerants, not professed musicians, found their welcome to their night's quarters readily insured by their knowledge in legendary lore. John Graeme, of Sowport, in Cumberland, commonly called _The Long Quaker_[64], a person of this latter description, was very lately alive; and several of the songs, now published, have been taken down from his recitation. The shepherds also, and aged persons, in the recesses of the border mountains, frequently remember and repeat the warlike songs of their fathers. This is more especially the case in what are called the South Highlands, where, in many instances, the same families have occupied the same possessions for centuries.

[Footnote 63: These town pipers, an institution of great antiquity upon the borders, were certainly the last remains of the minstrel race. Robin Hastie, town-piper of Jedburgh, perhaps the last of the order, died nine or ten years ago: his family was supposed to have held the office for about three centuries. Old age had rendered Robin a wretched performer; but he knew several old songs and tunes, which have probably died along with him. The town-pipers received a livery and salary from the community to which they belonged; and, in some burghs, they had a small allotment of land, called the Piper's Croft. For further particulars regarding them, see _Introduction to Complaynt of Scotland_, Edinburgh, 1801, p. 142.]

[Footnote 64: This person, perhaps the last of our professed ballad reciters, died since the publication of the first edition of this work. He was by profession an itinerant cleaner of clocks and watches; but, a stentorian voice, and tenacious memory, qualified him eminently for remembering accurately, and reciting with energy, the border gathering songs and tales of war. His memory was latterly much impaired; yet, the number of verses which he could pour forth, and the animation of his tone and gestures, formed a most extraordinary contrast to his extreme feebleness of person, and dotage of mind.]

It is chiefly from this latter source that the editor has drawn his materials, most of which were collected, many years ago, during his early youth. But he has been enabled, in many instances, to supply and correct the deficiencies of his own copies, from a collection of border songs, frequently referred to in the work, under the title of _Glenriddell's MS_. This was compiled, from various sources, by the late Mr. Riddell, of Glenriddel, a sedulous border antiquary, and, since his death, has become the property of Mr. Jollie, bookseller at Carlisle; to whose liberality the editor owes the use of it, while preparing this work for the press. No liberties have been taken, either with the recited or written copies of these ballads, farther than that, where they disagreed, which is by no means unusual, the editor, in justice to the author, has uniformly preserved what seemed to him the best, or most poetical, reading of the passage. Such discrepancies must very frequently occur, wherever poetry is preserved by oral tradition; for the reciter, making it a uniform principle to proceed at all hazards, is very often, when his memory fails him, apt to substitute large portions from some other tale, altogether distinct from that which he has commenced. Besides, the prejudices of clans and of districts have occasioned variations in the mode of telling the same story. Some arrangement was also occasionally necessary, to recover the rhyme, which was often, by the ignorance of the reciters, transposed, or thrown into the middle of the line. With these freedoms, which were essentially necessary to remove obvious corruptions, and fit the ballads for the press, the editor presents them to the public, under the complete assurance, that they carry with them the most indisputable marks of their authenticity.

The same observations apply to the Second Class, here termed ROMANTIC BALLADS; intended to comprehend such legends as are current upon the border, relating to fictitious and marvellous adventures Such were the tales, with which the friends of Spenser strove to beguile his indisposition:

"Some told of ladies, and their paramours; Some of brave knights, and their renowned squires; Some of the fairies, and their strange attires, And some of giants, hard to be believed."

These, carrying with them a general, and not merely a local, interest, are much more extensively known among the peasantry of Scotland than the border-raid ballads, the fame of which is in general confined to the mountains where they were originally composed. Hence, it has been easy to collect these tales of romance, to a number much greater than the editor has chosen to insert in this publication[65]. With this class are now intermingled some lyric pieces, and some ballads, which, though narrating real events, have no direct reference to border history or manners. To the politeness and liberality of Mr. Herd, of Edinburgh, the editor of the first classical collection of Scottish songs and ballads (Edinburgh, 1774, 2 vols.), the editor is indebted for the use of his MSS., containing songs and ballads, published and unpublished, to the number of ninety and upwards. To this collection frequent references are made, in the course of the following pages. Two books of ballads, in MS., have also been communicated to me, by my learned and respected friend, Alexander Fraser Tytler, Esq[66]. I take the liberty of transcribing Mr. Tytler's memorandum respecting the manner in which they came into his hands. "My father[67] got the following songs from an old friend, Mr. Thomas Gordon, professor of philosophy, King's College, Aberdeen. The following extract of a letter of the professor to me, explains how he came by them:--"An aunt of my children, Mrs Farquhar, now dead, who was married to the proprietor of a small estate, near the sources of the Dee, in Braemar, a good old woman, who spent the best part of her life among flocks and herds, resided in her latter days in the town of Aberdeen. She was possest of a most tenacious memory, which retained all the songs she had heard from nurses and country-women in that sequestered part of the country. Being maternally fond of my children, when young, she had them much about her, and delighted them with her songs, and tales of chivalry. My youngest daughter, Mrs Brown, at Falkland, is blest with a memory as good as her aunt, and has almost the whole of her songs by heart. In conversation I mentioned them to your father, at whose request, my grandson, Mr Scott, wrote down a parcel of them, as his aunt sung them. Being then but a mere novice in music, he added, in the copy, such musical notes, as, he supposed, might give your father some notion of the airs, or rather lilts, to which they were sung."

[Footnote 65: Mr. Jamieson of Macclesfield, a gentleman of literary and poetical accomplishment, has for some years been employed in a compilation of Scottish ballad poetry, which is now in the press, and will probably be soon given to the public. I have, therefore, as far as the nature of my work permitted, sedulously avoided anticipating any of his materials; as I am very certain he himself will do our common cause the most ample justice.]

[Footnote 66: Now a senator of the College of Justice, by the title of Lord Woodhouselee.]

[Footnote 67: William Tytler, Esq. the ingenious defender of Queen Mary, and author of a _Dissertation upon Scotish Music_, which does honour to his memory.]

From this curious and valuable collection, the editor has procured very material assistance. At the same time, it contains many beautiful legendary poems, of which he could not avail himself, as they seemed to be the exclusive property of the bards of Angus and Aberdeenshire. But the copies of such, as were known on the borders, have furnished him with various readings, and with supplementary stanzas, which he has frequent opportunities to acknowledge. The MSS. are cited under the name of Mrs. Brown of Falkland, the ingenious lady, to whose taste and memory the world is indebted for the preservation of the tales which they contain. The other authorities, which occur during the work, are particularly referred to. Much information has been communicated to the editor, from various quarters, since the work was first published of which he has availed himself, to correct and enlarge the present edition.

In publishing both classes of ancient ballads, the editor has excluded those which are to be found in the common collections of this nature, unless in one or two instances, where he conceived it possible to give some novelty, by historical or critical illustration.

It would have been easy for the editor to have given these songs an appearance of more indisputable antiquity, by adopting the rude orthography of the period, to which he is inclined to refer them. But this (unless when MSS. of antiquity can be referred to) seemed too arbitrary an exertion of the privileges of a publisher, and must, besides, have unnecessarily increased the difficulties of many readers. On the other hand, the utmost care has been taken, never to reject a word or phrase, used by a reciter, however uncouth or antiquated. Such barbarisms, which stamp upon the tales their age and their nation, should be respected by an editor, as the hardy emblem of his country was venerated by the Poet of Scotland:

The rough bur-thistle spreading wide Amang the bearded bear, I turn'd the weeder-clips aside, And spared the symbol dear.

BURNS.

The meaning of such obsolete words is usually given at the bottom of the page. For explanation of the more common peculiarities of the Scottish dialect, the English reader is referred to the excellent glossary annexed to the last edition of Burns' works.

The Third Class of Ballads are announced to the public, as MODERN IMITATIONS of the Ancient Style of composition, in that department of poetry; and they are founded upon such traditions as we may suppose in the elder times would have employed the harps of the minstrels. This kind of poetry has been supposed capable of uniting the vigorous numbers and wild fiction, which occasionally charm us in the ancient ballad, with a greater equality of versification, and elegance of sentiment, than we can expect to find in the works of a rude age. But, upon my ideas of the nature and difficulty of such imitations, I ought in prudence to be silent; lest I resemble the dwarf, who brought with him a standard to measure his own stature. I may, however, hint at the difference, not always attended to, betwixt legendary poems and real imitations of the old ballad; the reader will find specimens of both in the modern part of this collection. The legendary poem, called _Glenfinlas_, and the ballad, entituled the _Eve of St. John_, were designed as examples of the difference betwixt these two kinds of composition.

It would have the appearance of personal vanity, were the editor to detail the assistance and encouragement which he has received, during his undertaking, from some of the first literary characters of our age. The names of Stuart, Mackenzie, Ellis, Currie, and Ritson, with many others, are talismans too powerful to be used, for bespeaking the world's favour to a collection of old songs; even although a veteran bard has remarked, "that both the great poet of Italian rhyme, Petrarch, and our Chaucer, and other of the upper house of the muses, have thought their canzons honoured in the title of a ballad." To my ingenious friend, Dr. John Leyden, my readers will at once perceive that I lie under extensive obligations, for the poetical pieces, with which he has permitted me to decorate my compilation; but I am yet farther indebted to him for his uniform assistance, in collecting and arranging materials for the work.

In the notes, and occasional dissertations, it has been my object to throw together, perhaps without sufficient attention to method, a variety of remarks, regarding popular superstitions, and legendary history, which, if not now collected, must soon have been totally forgotten. By such efforts, feeble as they are, I may contribute somewhat to the history of my native country; the peculiar features of whose manners and character are daily melting and dissolving into those of her sister and ally. And, trivial as may appear such an offering, to the manes of a kingdom, once proud and independent, I hang it upon her altar with a mixture of feelings, which I shall not attempt to describe.

"--Hail, land of spearmen! seed of those who scorn'd To stoop the proud crest to Imperial Rome! Hail! dearest half of Albion, sea-wall'd! Hail! state unconquer'd by the fire of war, Red war, that twenty ages round thee blaz'd! To thee, for whom my purest raptures flow, Kneeling with filial homage, I devote My life, my strength, my first and latest song."

APPENDIX. No. I.

LETTER FROM THE EARL OF SURREY, TO HENRY VIII. GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF THE STORM OF JEDBURGH.

_Cott. MSS. Calig_. B. III. fol. 29.

* * * * *

"Pleisith it your grace to be advertised, that upon Fridaye, at x a clok at nyght, I retourned to this towne, and all the garnysons to their places assigned, the bushopricke men, my Lorde of Westmoreland, and my Lord Dacre, in likewise evry man home with their companys, without los of any men, thanked be God; saving viii or x slayne, and dyvers hurt, at skyrmyshis and saults of the town of Gedwurth, and the forteressis, which towne is soo suerly brent, that no garnysons ner none other shal bee lodged there, unto the tyme it bee newe buylded; the brennyng whereof I comytted to twoo sure men, Sir William Bulmer, and Thomas Tempeste. The towne was moche bettir then I went (_i.e._ ween'd) it had been, for there was twoo tymys moo houses therein then in Berwike, and well buylded, with many honest and faire houses therein, sufficiente to have lodged M horsemen in garnyson, and six good towres therein; whiche towne and towres be clenely distroyed, brent, and throwen downe. Undoubtedly there was noo journey made into Scotland, in noo manys day leving, with soo fewe a nombre that is recownted to be soo high an enterprice as this, bothe with thies contremen, and Scottishmen, nor of truthe so moche hurt doon. But in th' ende a great mysfortune ded fall, onely by foly, that such ordre, as was commaunded by me to be kepte, was not observed, the maner whereof hereaftir shall ensue. Bifore myn entre into Scotland, I appointed Sir William Bulmer and Sir William Evers too be marshallis of th' army; Sir William Bulmer for the vangard, and Sir William Evers for the reregard. In the vangard I appointed my Lord of Westmoreland, as chief, with all the bushopricke, Sir William Bulmer, Sir William Evers, my Lord Dacre, with all his company; and with me remayned all the rest of the garnysons, and the Northumberland men. I was of counsaill with the marshallis at th' ordering of our lodgingg, and our campe was soo well envirowned with ordynance, carts, and dikes, that hard it was to entre or issue, but at certain places appointed for that purpos, and assigned the mooste commodious place of the saide campe for my Lord Dacre company, next the water, and next my Lord of Westmoreland. And at suche tyme as my Lord Dacre came into the fald, I being at the sault of th' abby, whiche contynued unto twoo houres within nyght, my seid Lord Dacre wold in nowise bee contente to ly within the campe, whiche was made right sure, but lodged himself without, wherewith, at my retourne, I was not contente, but then it was to late to remove; the next daye I sente my seid Lorde Dacre to a strong hold, called Fernherst, the lorde whereof was his mortal enemy; and with hym, Sir Arthur Darcy, Sir Marmaduke Constable, with viii c. of their men, one cortoute, and dyvers other good peces of ordynance for the feld (the seid Fernherste stode marvelous strongly, within a grete woode); the seid twoo knights with the moost parte of their men, and Strickland, your grace servaunte, with my Kendall men, went into the woode on fote, with th' ordynance, where the said Kendall men were soo handled, that they found hardy men, that went noo foote back for theym; the other two knightes were alsoo soo sharply assayled, that they were enforced to call for moo of their men; and yet could not bring the ordynance to the forteresse, unto the tyme my Lord Dacre, with part of his horsemen, lighted on fote; and marvelously hardly handled himself, and fynally, with long skirmyshing, and moche difficultie, gat forthe th' ordynance within the howse and threwe downe the same. At which skyrmyshe, my seid Lord Dacre, and his brother, Sir Cristofer, Sir Arthure, and Sir Marmaduke, and many other gentilmen, did marvellously hardly; and found the best resistence that hath been seen with my comyng to their parties, and above xxxii Scottis sleyne, and not passing iiij Englishmen, but above lx hurt. Aftir that, my seid lord retournyng to the campe, wold in nowise bee lodged in the same, but where he laye the furst nyght. And he being with me at souper, about viij a clok, the horses of his company brak lowse, and sodenly ran out of his feld, in such nombre, that it caused a marvellous alarome in our feld; and our standing watche being set, the horses cam ronnyng along the campe, at whome were shot above one hundred shief of arrowes, and dyvers gonnys, thinking they had been Scotts, that wold have saulted the campe; fynally the horses were soo madde, that they ran like wild dere into the feld; above xv c. at the leest, in dyvers companys, and, in one place, above I felle downe a gret rok, and slewe theymself, and above ij c. ran into the towne being on fire, and by the women taken, and carried awaye right evill brent, and many were taken agayne. But, fynally, by that I can esteme by the nombre of theym that I sawe goo on foote the next daye, I think thare is lost above viij c. horses, and all with foly for lak of not lying within the camp. I dare not write the wondres that my Lord Dacre, and all his company, doo saye they sawe that nyght, vj. tymys of spirits and fereful sights. And unyversally all their company saye playnly, the devill was that nyght among theym vi tymys; whiche mysfortune hath blemyshed the best journey that was made in Scotland many yeres. I assure your grace I found the Scottes, at this tyme, the boldest men, and the hotest, that ever I sawe any nation, and all the journey, upon all parts of th' army, kepte us with soo contynuall skyrmyshe, that I never sawe the like. If they myght assemble xl M as good men as I nowe sawe, xv c or ij M, it wold bee a hard encountre to mete theym. Pitie it is of my Lord Dacres losse of the horses of his company; he brought with hym above iiij M. men, and came and lodged one night in Scotland, in his moost mortal enemy's centre. There is noo herdyer, ner bettir knyght, but often tyme he doth not use the most sure order, which he hath nowe payed derely for. Written at Berwike the xxvij of September.

Your most bownden,

T. SURREY.

APPENDIX, No. II.

HISTORY OF GEORDIE BOURNE.

* * * * *

In the following passages, extracted from the memoirs of Sir Robert Carey, then deputy of his father, Lord Hunsdon, warden of the east marches, afterwards Earl of Monmouth, the reader will find a lively illustration of the sketch given of border manners in the preceding Introduction.

"Having thus ended with my brother, I then beganne to thinke of the charge I had taken upon mee, which was the government of the east march, in my father's absence. I wrote to Sir Robert Kerr[68], who was my opposite warden, a brave active young man, and desired him that hee would appoint a day, when hee and myselfe might privately meet in some part of the border, to take some good order for the quieting the borders, till my retourne from London, which journey I was shortly of necessity to take. Hee stayed my man all night, and wrote to mee back, that hee was glad to have the happinesse to be acquainted with mee, and did not doubt but the country would be better governed by our good agreements. I wrote to him on the Monday, and the Thursday after hee appointed the place and hour of meeting.

[Footnote 68: Sir Robert Kerr of Cessford, warden of the middle marches, and ancestor of the house of Roxburghe.]

"After hee had filled my man with drinke, and putt him to bed, hee, and some halfe a score with him, gott to horse, and came into England to a little village. There hee broke up a house, and tooke out a poore fellow, who (hee pretended) had done him some wrong, and before the doore cruelly murthered him, and so came quietly home, and went to bed. The next morning hee delivered my man a letter in answer to mine, and retourned him to mee. It pleased mee well at the reading of his kinde letter; but when I heard what a _brave_ hee had put upon mee, I quickly resolved what to do, which was, never to have to do with him, till I was righted for the greate wrong hee had done mee. Upon this resolution, the day I should have mett with him I tooke post, and with all the haste I could, rode to London, leaving him to attend my coming to him as was appointed. There hee stayed from one till five, but heard no news of mee. Finding by this that I had neglected him, hee retourned home to his house, and so things rested (with greate dislike the one of the other) till I came back, which was with all the speede I could, my businesse being ended. The first thing I did after my retourne, was to ask justice for the wrong hee had done mee; but I could gett none. The borderers, seeing our disagreement, they thought the time wished for of them was come. The winter being beganne, their was roades made out of Scotland into the east march, and goods were taken three or foure times a weeke. I had no other meanes left to quiet them, but still sent out of the garrison horsemen of Berwick, to watch in the fittest places for them, and it was their good hap many times to light upon them, with the stolen goods driving before them. They were no sooner brought before mee, but a jury went upon them, and, being found guilty, they were frequently hanged: a course which hath been seldom used, but I had no way to keep the country quiet but to do so; for, when the Scotch theeves found what a sharp course I tooke with them, that were found with the bloody hand, I had in a short time the country more quiet. All this while wee were but in jest as it were, but now beganne the greate quarrell betweene us.

"There was a favorite of his, a greate theife, called Geordie Bourne. This gallant, with some of his associates would, in a bravery, come and take goods in the east march. I had that night some of the garrison abroad. They met with this Geordie and his fellowes, driving of cattle before them. The garrison set upon them, and with a shott killed Geordie Bourne's unckle, and hee himselfe bravely resisting till he was sore hurt in the head, was taken. After hee was taken, his pride was such, as hee asked, who it was that durst avow that nightes worke? but when hee heard it was the garrison, he was then more quiet. But so powerfull and awfull was this Sir Robert Kerr, and his favourites, as there was not a gentleman in all the east march that durst offend them. Presently after hee was taken, I had most of the gentlemen of the march come to mee, and told mee, that now I had the ball at my foote, and might bring Sir Robert Kerr to what conditions I pleased; for that this man's life was so neere and deare unto him, as I should have all that my heart could desire, for the good and quiet of the country and myselfe, if upon any condition I would give him his life. I heard them and their reasons; notwithstanding, I called a jury the next morning, and hee was found guilty of MARCH TREASON. Then they feared that I would cause him to be executed that afternoone, which made them come flocking to mee, humbly entreating mee, that I would spare his life till the next day, and if Sir Robert Kerr came not himselfe to mee, and made mee not such proffers, as I could not but accept, that then I should do with him what I pleased. And further, they told mee plainly, that if I should execute him, before I had heard from Sir Robert Kerr, they must be forced to quitt their houses and fly the country; for his fury would be such, against mee and the march I commanded, as hee would use all his power and strength to the utter destruction of the east march. They were so earnest with mee, that I gave them my word hee should not dye that day. There was post upon post sent to Sir Robert Kerr, and some of them rode to him themselves, to advertise him in what danger Geordie Bourne was; how he was condemned, and should have been executed that afternoone, but, by their humble suite, I gave them my word, that he should not dye that day; and therefore besought him, that hee would send to mee, with all the speede hee could, to let mee know, that hee would be the next day with mee to offer mee good conditions for the safety of his life. When all things were quiet, and the watch set at night, after supper, about ten of the clock, I tooke one of my men's liveryes, and putt it about mee, and tooke two other of my servants with mee in their liveryes, and we three, as the warden's men, came to the provost marshall's, where Bourne was, and were lett into his chamber. Wee sate down by him, and told him, that wee were desirous to see him, because wee heard hee was stoute and valiant, and true to his friend; and that wee were sorry our master could not be moved to save his life. He voluntarily of himselfe said, that hee had lived long enough to do so many villainies as hee had done; and withal told us, that hee had layne with about forty men's wives, what in England, what in Scotland; and that hee had killed seven Englishmen with his own hands, cruelly murthering them: that hee had spent his whole time in whoreing, drinking, stealing, and taking deep revenge for slight offences. Hee seemed to be very penitent, and much desired a minister for the comfort of his soule. Wee promised him to lett our master know his desire, who, wee knew, would presently grant it. Wee tooke our leaves of him, and presently I tooke order, that Mr. Selby, a very worthy honest preacher, should go to him, and not stirre from him till his execution the next morning; for, after I had heard his own confession, I was resolved no conditions should save his life: and so tooke order, that at the gates opening the next morning, hee should be carried to execution, which accordingly was performed. The next morning I had one from Sir Robert Kerr for a parley, who was within two miles staying for mee. I sent him word, "I would meet him where hee pleased, but I would first know upon what termes and conditions." Before his man was retourned, hee had heard, that in the morning, very early, Geordie Bourne had been executed. Many vowes hee made of cruell revenge, and retourned home full of griefe and disdaine, and, from that time forward still plotted revenge. Hee knew the gentlemen of the country were altogether sacklesse, and to make open road upon the march would but shew his malice, and lay him open to the punishment due to such offences. But his practice was how to be revenged on mee, or some of mine.

"It was not long after that my brother and I had intelligence, that there was a great match made at footeball and the chiefe ryders were to be there. The place they were to meet at was Kelsy, and that day, wee heard it, was the day for the meeting. Wee presently called a counsaile, and after much dispute it was concluded, that the likeliest place hee was to come to, was to kill the scoutes. And it was the more suspected, for that my brother, before my coming to the office, for the cattaile stolne out of the bounds, and as it were from under the walles of Barwicke, being refused justice (upon his complaint,) or at least delaid, sent off the garrison into Liddisdale, and killed there the chiefe offender, which had done the wrong.

"Upon this conclusion, there was order taken, that both horse and foote should lye in ambush, in diverse parts of the boundes, to defend the scoutes, and to give a sound blow to Sir Robert and his company. Before the horse and foote were sett out with directions what to do, it was almost darke night, and the gates ready to be lockt. Wee parted, and as I was by myselfe comeing to my house, God put it into my mind, that it might well be, hee meant destruction to my men, that I had sent out to gather tithes for mee at Norham, and their rendezvous was every night to lye and sup at an ale-house in Norham. I presently caused my page to take horse, and to ride as fast as his horse could carry him, and to command my servants (which were in all eight) that, presently upon his coming to them, they should all change their lodging, and go streight to the castle, there to lye that night in strawe and hay. Some of them were unwilling thereto, but durst not disobey; so altogether left their ale-house, and retired to the castle. They had not well settled themeselves to sleep, but they heard in the town a great alarm; for Sir Robert and his company came streight to the ale-house, broke open the doors, and made enquiry for my servants. They were answered, that by my command they were all in the castle. After they had searched all the house, and found none, they feared they were betrayed, and, with all the speede they could, made haste homewards again. Thus God blessed me from this bloody tragedy.

"All the whole march expected nightly some hurt to be done; but God so blessed mee and the government I held, as, for all his fury, hee never drew drop of blood in all my march, neither durst his theeves trouble it much with stealing, for fear of hanging, if they were taken. Thus wee continued a yeare, and then God sent a meanes to bring thinges to better quiet by this occasion.

"There had been commissioners in Barwicke, chosen by the queene and king of Scottes, for the better quieting of our borders. By their industry they found a great number of malefactors guilty, both in England and Scotland; and they tooke order, that the officers of Scotland should deliver such offenders, as were found guilty in their jurisdictions, to the opposite officers in England, to be detained prisoners, till they had made satisfaction for the goods they had taken out of England. The like order was taken with the wardens of England, and days prefixed for the delivery of them all. And in case any of the officers, on either side, should omit their duties, in not delivering the prisoners at the dayes and places appointed, that then there should a course be taken by the soveraignes, that what chiefe officer soever should offend herein, he himself should be delivered and detained, till he had made good what the commissioners had agreed upon.

"The English officers did punctually, at the day and place, deliver their prisoners, and so did most of the officers of Scotland; only the Lord of Bocleuch and Sir Robert Kerr were faultie. They were complained of, and new dayes appointed for the delivery of their prisoners. Bocleuch was the first, that should deliver; and hee failing entered himselfe prisoner into Barwicke, there to remaine till those officers under his charge were delivered to free him. He chose for his guardian Sir William Selby, master of the ordinance at Barwicke. When Sir Robert Kerr's day of delivery came, he failed too, and my Lord Hume, by the king's command, was to deliver him prisoner into Barwicke upon the like termes, which was performed. Sir Robert Kerr (contrary to all men's expectation) chose mee for his guardian, and home I brought him to my own house, after hee was delivered to mee. I lodged him as well as I could, and tooke order for his diet, and men to attend on him, and sent him word, that (although by his harsh carriage towards mee, ever since I had that charge, he could not expect any favour, yet) hearing so much goodness of him, that hee never broke his word, if hee should give mee his hand and credit to be a true prisoner, hee would have no guard sett upon him, but have free liberty for his friends in Scotland to have ingresse and regresse to him as oft as hee pleased. He tooke this very kindly at my handes, accepted of my offer, and sent me thankes.

"Some four dayes passed; all which time his friends came into him, and hee kept his chamber. Then hee sent to mee, and desired mee, I would come and speake with him, which I did; and after long discourse, charging and re-charging one another with wrong and injuries, at last, before our parting, wee became good friends, with greate protestations, on his side, never to give mee occasion of unkindnesse again. After our reconciliation hee kept his chamber no longer, but dined and supt with mee. I tooke him abroad with mee at the least thrice a weeke, a hunting, and every day wee grew better friends. Bocleuch, in a few dayes after, had his pledges delivered, and was set at liberty. But Sir Robert Kerr could not get his, so that I was commanded to carry him to Yorke, and there to deliver him prisoner to the archbishop, which accordingly I did. At our parting, he professed greate love unto mee for the kinde usage I had shewn him, and that I would find the effects of it upon his delivery, which hee hoped would be shortly.

"Thus wee parted; and, not long after, his pledges were gott, and brought to Yorke, and hee sett at liberty. After his retourne home, I found him as good as his word. Wee met oft at dayes of truce, and I had as good justice as I could desire; and so wee continued very kinde and good friends, all the time that I stayed in that march, which was not long."

APPENDIX, No. III.

MAITLAND'S COMPLAYNT AGANIS THE THIEVIS OF LIDDISDAIL, FROM PINKERTON'S EDITION, COLLATED WITH A MS. OF MAITLAND'S POEMS, IN THE LIBRARY OF EDINBURGH COLLEGE.

* * * * *

Of Liddisdail the commoun theifis Sa peartlie steillis now and reifis, That nane may keip Horse, nolt, nor scheip, Nor yett dar sleip For their mischeifis.

Thay plainly throw the country rydis, I trow the mekil devil thame gydis! Quhair they onsett, Ay in thair gaitt, Thair is na yet Nor dor, thame bydis.

Thay leif rich nocht, quhair ever thay ga; Thair can na thing be hid thame fra; For gif men wald Thair housis hald, Than waxe thay bald, To burne and slay.

Thay thiefs have neirhand herreit hail, Ettricke forest and Lawderdaill; Now are they gane, In Lawthiane; And spairis nane That thay will waill.

Thay landis ar with stouth sa socht, To extreame povertye ar broucht, Thay wicked schrowis Has laid the plowis, That nane or few is That are left oucht.

Bot commoun taking of blak mail, Thay that had flesche, and breid and aill, Now are sa wrakit, Made bair and nakit, Fane to be slaikit With watter caill.

Thay theifs that steillis and tursis hame, Ilk ane of them has ane to-name[69]; Will of the Lawis, Hab of the Schawis: To mak bair wawis Thay thinke na schame.

Thay spuilye puir men of their pakis, Thay leif them nocht on bed nor bakis; Baith hen and cok, With reil and rok, The Lairdis Jok, All with him takis.

Thay leif not spindell, spoone, nor speit; Bed, boster, blanket, sark, nor scheit; Johne of the Parke Ryps kist and ark; For all sic wark He is richt meit.

He is weil kend, John of the Syde; A greater theif did never ryde. He never tyris For to brek byris: Ouir muir and myris Ouir gude ane gyde.

Thair is ane, callet Clement's Hob, Fra ilk puir wyfe reifis the wob, And all the lave, Quhatever they haife, The devil recave Thairfoir his gob.

To sic grit stouth quha eir wald trow it, Bot gif some great man it allowit Rycht sair I trow Thocht it be rew: Thair is sa few That dar avow it.

Of sum great men they have sic gait, That redy are thame to debait, And will up weir Thair stolen geir; That nane dare steir Thame air nor late.

Quhat causis theifis us ourgang, Bot want of justice us amang? Nane takis cair, Thocht all for fear; Na man will spair Now to do wrang.

Of stouth thocht now thay come gude speid, That nother of men nor God has dreid; Yet, or I die, Sum sail thame sie, Hing on a trie Quhill thay be deid--

_Quo_' Sir R.M. _of_ Lethington, _knicht_.

[Footnote 69: Owing to the marchmen being divided into large clans, bearing the same sirname, individuals were usually distinguished by some epithet, derived from their place of residence, personal qualities, or descent. Thus, every distinguished moss-trooper had, what is here called, a _to-name_, or _nom de guerre_, in addition to his family name.]

APPENDIX, No. IV.

BOND OF ALLIANCE, OR FEUD STAUNCHING, BETWIXT THE CLANS OF SCOTT AND KER.

* * * * *

The battle of Melrose (see Introduction, p. xvii.) occasioned a deadly feud betwixt the name of Scott and Ker. The following indenture was designed to reconcile their quarrel. But the alliance, if it ever took effect, was not of long duration; for the feud again broke out about 1553, when Sir Walter Scott was slain by the Kers, in the streets of Edinburgh.

"Thir indentures, made at Ancrum the 16th of March, 1529 years, contains, proports, and bears leil and suithfast witnessing. That it is appointed, agreed, and finally accorded betwixt honourable men; that is to say, Walter Ker of Cessford, Andrew Ker of Fairnieherst, Mark Ker of Dolphinston, George Kerr, tutor of Cessford, and Andrew Ker of Primesideloch, for themselves, kin, friends, mentenants, assisters, allies, adherents, and partakers, on the one part; and Walter Scot of Branxholm, knight, Robert Scot of Allanhaugh, Robert Scot, tutor of Howpaisly, John Scot of Roberton, and Walter Scot of Stirkshaws, for themselves, their kin, friends, mentenants, servants, assisters, and adherents, on the other part; in manner, form, and effect, as after follows: For staunching all discord and variance betwixt them, and for furth-bearing of the king's authority, and punishing trespasses, and for amending all slaughters, heritages, and steedings, and all other pleas concerning thereto, either of these parties to others, and for unité, friendship, and concord, to be had in time coming 'twixt them, of our sovereign lord's special command: that is to say, either of the said parties, be the tenor hereof, remits and forgives to others the rancour, hatred, and malice of their hearts; and the said Walter Scot of Branxholm shall gang, or cause gang, at the will of the party, to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall say a mass for the souls of umquhile Andrew Ker of Cessford, and them that were slain in his company, in the field of Melrose; and, upon his expence, shall cause a chaplain say a mass daily, when he is disposed, in what place the said Walter Ker and his friends pleases, for the well of the said souls, for the space of five years next to come.--Mark Ker of Dolphinston, Andrew Kerr of Graden, shall gang, at the will of the party, to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall gar say a mass for the souls of umquhile James Scot of Eskirk, and other Scots, their friends, slain in the field of Melrose; and, upon their expence, shall gar a chaplain say a mass daily, when he is disposed, for the heal of their souls, where the said Walter Scot and his friends pleases, for the space of three years next to come: and the said Walter Scot of Branxholm shall marry his son and heir upon one of the said Walter Ker his sisters; he paying, therefor, a competent portion to the said Walter Ker and his heir, at the sight of the friends of baith parties. And also, baith the saids parties bind and oblige them, be the faith and truth of their bodies, that they abide at the decreet and deliverance of the six men chosen arbiters, anent all other matters, quarrels, actiones, and debates, whilk either of them likes to propone against others betwixt the saids parties: and also the six arbiters are bound and obliged to decreet and deliver, and give forth their deliverance thereuntil, within year and day after the date hereof.--And attour, either of the saids parties bind and oblige them, be the faith and truth of their bodies, ilk ane to others, that they shall be leil and true to others, and neither of them will another's skaith, but they shall let it at their power, and give to others their best counsel, and it be asked; and shall take leil and aeffald part ilk ane with others, with their kin, friends, servants, allies, and partakers, in all and sundry their actions, quarrels, and debates, against all that live and die (may the allegiance of our sovereign lord the king allenarly be excepted).--And for the obliging and keeping all thir premises above written, baith the saids parties are bound and obliged, ilk ane to others, be the faith and truth of their bodies, but fraud or guile, under the pain of perjury, men-swearing, defalcation, and breaking of the bond of deadly. And, in witness of the whilk, ilk ane to the procuratory of this indenture remain with the said Walter Scot and his friends, the said Walter Ker of Cessford has affixed his proper seal, with his subscription manual, and with the subscription of the said Andrew Ker of Fairnieherst, Mark Ker of Dolphinston, George Ker, tutor of Cessford, and Andrew Ker of Primesideloch, before these witnesses, Mr. Andrew Drurie, abbot of Melrose, and George Douglas of Boonjedward, John Riddel of that ilk, and William Stewart.

_Sic Subscribitur_,

WALTER KER of Cessford.

ANDREW KER of Fairnieherst.

MARK KER.

GEORGE KER.

ANDREW KER of Primesideloch."

N.B. The four pilgrimages are Scoon, Dundee, Paisley, and Melrose.

APPENDIX, No. V.

ANE INTERLUDE OF THE LAYING OF A GAIST.

* * * * *

This burlesque poem is preserved in the Bannatyne MSS. It is in the same strain with the verses concerning the _Gyre Carline_ (Vol. II.) As the mention of _Bettokis Bowr_ occurs in both pieces, and as the scene of both is laid in East Lothian, they are perhaps composed by the same author. The humour of these fragments seems to have been directed against the superstitions of Rome; but it is now become very obscure. Nevertheless, the verses are worthy of preservation, for the sake of the ancient language and allusions.

Listen lordis, I sall you tell, Off ane very grit marvell, Off Lord Fergussis gaist, How meikle Sir Andro it chest, Unto Beittokis bour, The silly sawle to succour: And he hes writtin unto me, Auld storeis for to se, Gif it appinis him to meit, How he sall conjure the spreit: And I haif red mony quars, Bath the Donet, and Dominus que pars, Ryme maid, and als redene, Baith Inglis and Latene: And ane story haif I to reid, Passes Bonitatem in the creid. To conjure the litill gaist he mon haif Of tod's tails ten thraif, And kast the grit holy water With pater noster, pitter patter; And ye man sit in a compas, And cry, Harbert tuthless, Drag thow, and ye's draw, And sit thair quhill cok craw. The compas mon hallowit be With aspergis me Domine; The haly writ schawis als Thair man be hung about your bals Pricket in ane woll poik Of neis powder ane grit loik. Thir thingis mon ye beir, Brynt in ane doggis eir, Ane pluck, ane pindill, and ane palme cors, Thre tuskis of ane awld hors, And of ane yallow wob the warp, The boddome of ane awld herp, The held of ane cuttit reill, The band of an awld quheill, The taill of ane yeild sow, And ane bait of blew wow, Ane botene, and ane brechame, And ane quhorle made of lame, To luke out at the litill boir, And cry, Crystis crosse, you befoir: And quhen ye see the litill gaist, Cumand to you in all haist, Cry loud, Cryste eleisone, And speir quhat law it levis on? And gif it sayis on Godis ley, Than to the litill gaist ye say, With braid benedicite; --"Litill gaist, I conjure the, With lierie and larie, Bayth fra God, and Sanct Marie, First with ane fischis mouth, And syne with ane sowlis towth, With ten pertane tais, And nyne knokis of windil strais, With thre heidis of curle doddy."-- And bid the gaist turn in a boddy. Then efter this conjuratioun, The litill gaist will fall in soun, And thair efter down ly, Cryand mercy petously; Than with your left heil sane, And it will nevir cum agane, As meikle as a mige amaist.[70]

He had a litill we leg, And it wes cant as any cleg, It wes wynd in ane wynden schet, Baythe the handis and the feit: Suppose this gaist wes litill Yit it stal Godis quhitell; It stal fra peteous Abrahame, Ane quhorle and ane quhim quhame; It stal fra ye carle of ye mone Ane payr of awld yin schone; It rane to Pencatelane, And wirreit ane awld chaplane; This litill gaist did na mair ill Bot clok lyk a corn mill; And it wald play and hop, About the heid ane stre strop; And it wald sing and it wald dance, Oure fute, and Orliance. Quha conjurit the litill gaist say ye? Nane bot the litill Spenzie fle, That with hir wit and her ingyne, Gart the gaist leif agane; And sune mareit the gaist the fle, And croun'd him King of Kandelie; And they gat them betwene, Orpheus king, and Elpha quene.[71] To reid quha will this gentill geist, Ye hard it not at Cockilby's feist.[72]

[Footnote 70: Apparently some lines are here omitted.]

[Footnote 71: This seems to allude to the old romance of _Orfeo and Heurodis_, from which the reader will find some extracts, Vol. II. The wife of _Orpheus_ is here called _Elpha_, probably from her having been extracted by the elves, or fairies.]

[Footnote 72: Alluding to a strange unintelligible poem in the Bannatyne MSS., called _Cockelby's sow_.]

APPENDIX, No. VI.

SUPPLEMENTAL STANZAS TO COLLINS'S ODE ON THE SUPERSTITIONS OF THE HIGHLANDS.

BY

WILLIAM ERSKINE, ESQ. ADVOCATE.

* * * * *

The editor embraces this opportunity of presenting the reader with the following stanzas, intended to commemorate some striking Scottish superstitions, omitted by Collins in his ode upon that subject; and which, if the editor can judge with impartiality of the production of a valued friend, will be found worthy of the sublime original. The reader must observe, that these verses form a continuation of the address, by Collins, to the author of _Douglas_, exhorting him to celebrate the traditions of Scotland. They were first published in the _Edinburgh Magazine_, for April, 1788.

* * * * * Thy muse may tell, how, when at evening's close, To meet her love beneath the twilight shade, O'er many a broom-clad brae and heathy glade, In merry mood the village maiden goes; There, on a streamlet's margin as she lies, Chaunting some carol till her swain appears, With visage deadly pale, in pensive guise, Beneath a wither'd fir his form he rears![73] Shrieking and sad, she bends her irie flight, When, mid dire heaths, where flits the taper blue, The whilst the moon sheds dim a sickly light, The airy funeral meets her blasted view! When, trembling, weak, she gains her cottage low, Where magpies scatter notes of presage wide, Some one shall tell, while tears in torrents flow, That, just when twilight dimm'd the green hill's side, Far in his lonely sheil her hapless shepherd died.

[Footnote 73: The _wraith_, or spectral appearance, of a person shortly to die, is a firm article in the creed of Scottish superstition. Nor is it unknown in our sister kingdom. See the story of the beautiful lady Diana Rich.--_Aubrey's Miscellanies_, p, 89.]

Let these sad strains to lighter sounds give place! Bid thy brisk viol warble measures gay! For see! recall'd by thy resistless lay, Once more the Brownie shews his honest face. Hail, from thy wanderings long, my much lov'd sprite! Thou friend, thou lover of the lowly, hail! Tell, in what realms thou sport'st thy merry night, Trail'st the long mop, or whirl'st the mimic flail. Where dost thou deck the much-disordered hall, While the tired damsel in Elysium sleeps, With early voice to drowsy workman call, Or lull the dame, while mirth his vigils keeps? 'Twas thus in Caledonia's domes, 'tis said, Thou ply'dst the kindly task in years of yore: At last, in luckless hour, some erring maid Spread in thy nightly cell of viands store: Ne'er was thy form beheld among their mountains more.[74]

[Footnote 74: See Introduction, p. ci.]

Then wake (for well thou can'st) that wond'rous lay, How, while around the thoughtless matrons sleep, Soft o'er the floor the treacherous fairies creep, And bear the smiling infant far away: How starts the nurse, when, for her lovely child, She sees at dawn a gaping idiot stare! O snatch the innocent from demons vilde, And save the parents fond from fell despair! In a deep cave the trusty menials wait, When from their hilly dens, at midnight's hour, Forth rush the airy elves in mimic state, And o'er the moon-light heath with swiftness scour: In glittering arms the little horsemen shine; Last, on a milk-white steed, with targe of gold, A fay of might appears, whose arms entwine The lost, lamented child! the shepherds bold[75] The unconscious infant tear from his unhallowed hold.

[Footnote 75: For an account of the Fairy superstition, see _Introduction to the Tale of Tamlane_.]

MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER.

PART FIRST.

* * * * *

_HISTORICAL BALLADS_.

SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

One edition of the present ballad is well known; having appeared in the _Reliques of Ancient Poetry_, and having been inserted in almost every subsequent collection of Scottish songs. But it seems to have occurred to no editor, that a more complete copy of the song might be procured. That, with which the public is now presented, is taken from two MS. copies,[76] collated with several verses recited by the editor's friend, Robert Hamilton, Esq. advocate, being the 16th, and the four which follow. But, even with the assistance of the common copy, the ballad seems still to be a fragment. The cause of Sir Patrick Spens' voyage is, however, pointed out distinctly; and it shews, that the song has claim to high antiquity, as referring to a very remote period in Scottish history.

[Footnote 76: That the public might possess this carious fragment as entire as possible, the editor gave one of these copies, which seems the most perfect, to Mr. Robert Jamieson, to be inserted in his Collection.]

Alexander III. of Scotland died in 1285; and, for the misfortune of his country, as well as his own, he had been bereaved of all his children before his decease. The crown of Scotland descended upon his grand-daughter, Margaret, termed, by our historians, the _Maid of Norway_. She was the only offspring of a marriage betwixt Eric, king of Norway, and Margaret, daughter of Alexander III. The kingdom had been secured to her by the parliament of Scotland, held at Scone, the year preceding her grandfather's death. The regency of Scotland entered into a congress with the ministers of the king of Norway and with those of England, for the establishment of good order in the kingdom of the infant princess. Shortly afterwards, Edward I. conceived the idea of matching his eldest son, Edward, Prince of Wales, with the young queen of Scotland. The plan was eagerly embraced by the Scottish nobles; for, at that time, there was little of the national animosity, which afterwards blazed betwixt the countries, and they patriotically looked forward to the important advantage, of uniting the island of Britain into one kingdom. But Eric of Norway seems to have been unwilling to deliver up his daughter; and, while the negociations were thus protracted, the death of the Maid of Norway effectually crushed a scheme, the consequences of which might have been, that the distinction betwixt England and Scotland would, in our day, have been as obscure and uninteresting as that of the realms of the heptarchy.--_Hailes' Annals. Fordun, &c._

The unfortunate voyage of Sir Patrick Spens may really have taken place, for the purpose of bringing back the Maid of Norway to her own kingdom; a purpose, which was probably defeated by the jealousy of the Norwegians, and the reluctance of King Eric. I find no traces of the disaster in Scottish history; but, when we consider the meagre materials, whence Scottish history is drawn, this is no conclusive argument against the truth of the tradition. That a Scottish vessel, sent upon such an embassy, must, as represented in the ballad, have been freighted with the noblest youth in the kingdom, is sufficiently probable; and, having been delayed in Norway, till the tempestuous season was come on, its fate can be no matter of surprise. The ambassadors, finally sent by the Scottish nation to receive their queen, were Sir David Wemyss, of Wemyss, and Sir Michael Scot of Balwearie; the same, whose knowledge, surpassing that of his age, procured him the reputation of a wizard. But, perhaps, the expedition of Sir Patrick Spens was previous to their embassy. The introduction of the king into the ballad seems a deviation from history; unless we suppose, that Alexander was, before his death, desirous to see his grand-child and heir.

The Scottish monarchs were much addicted to "sit in Dumfermline town," previous to the accession of the Bruce dynasty. It was a favourite abode of Alexander himself, who was killed by a fall from his horse, in the vicinity, and was buried in the abbey of Dumfermline.

There is a beautiful German translation of this ballad, as it appeared in the _Reliques_, in the Volk-Lieder of Professor Herder; an elegant work, in which it is only to be regretted, that the actual popular songs of the Germans form so trifling a proportion.

The tune of Mr. Hamilton's copy of _Sir Patrick Spens_ is different from that, to which the words are commonly sung; being less plaintive, and having a bold nautical turn in the close.

SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

The king sits in Dumfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine; "O[77] whare will I get a skeely skippe[78], "To sail this new ship of mine?"

O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee,-- "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, "That ever sail'd the sea."

Our king has written a braid letter. And seal'd it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand.

"To Noroway, to Noroway, "To Noroway o'er the faem; "The king's daughter of Noroway, "'Tis thou maun bring her hame."

The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud loud laughed he; The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his e'e.

"O wha is this has done this deed, "And tauld the king o' me, "To send us out, at this time of the year, "To sail upon the sea?

"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, "Our ship must sail the faem; "The king's daughter of Noroway, "'Tis we must fetch her hame,"

They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say,--

"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, "And a' our queenis fee." "Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! "Fu' loud I hear ye lie."

"For I brought as much white monie, "As gane[79] my men and me, "And I brought a half-fou[80] o' gude red goud, "Out o'er the sea wi' me."

"Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'! "Our gude ship sails the morn." "Now, ever alake, my master dear, "I fear a deadly storm!

"I saw the new moon, late yestreen, "Wi' the auld moon in her arm; "And if we gang to sea, master, "I fear we'll come to harm."

They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea.

The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap,[81] It was sik a deadly storm; And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn.

"O where will I get a gude sailor, "To take my helm in hand, "Till I get up to the tall top-mast, "To see if I can spy land?"

"O here am I, a sailor gude, "To take the helm in hand, "Till you go up to the tall top-mast; "But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna' gane a step, a step, A step, but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in.

"Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, "Another o' the twine, "And wap them into our ship's side, "And let na the sea come in."

They fetched a web o' the silken claith, Another of the twine, And they wapped them round that gude ship's side, But still the sea came in.

O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords To weet their cork-heel'd shoon! But lang or a' the play was play'd, They wat their hats aboon.

And mony was the feather-bed, That flattered[82] on the faem; And mony was the gude lord's son, That never mair cam hame.

The ladyes wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A' for the sake of their true loves; For them they'll see na mair.

O lang, lang, may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand!

And lang, lang, may the maidens sit, Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves! For them they'll see na mair.

O forty miles off Aberdeen, 'Tis fifty fathom deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

[Footnote 77: In singing, the interjection, O, is added to the second and fourth lines.]

[Footnote 78: _Skeely skipper_--Skilful mariner.]

[Footnote 79: _Gane_--Suffice.]

[Footnote 80: _Half-fou_--the eighth part of a peck.]

[Footnote 81: _Lap_--Sprang.]

[Footnote 82: _Flattered_--Fluttered, or rather floated, on the foam.]

NOTES ON SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

_To send us out at this time of the year_, _To sail upon the sea_?--P. 8, v. 3.

By a Scottish act of parliament, it was enacted, that no ship should be fraughted out of the kingdom, with any staple goods, betwixt the feast of St. Simon's day and Jude and Candelmas.--_James III. Parliament 2d, chap._ 15. Such was the terror entertained for navigating the north seas in winter.

_When a bout flew out of our goodly ship_.--P. 10. v. 5.

I believe a modern seaman would say, a plank had started, which must have been a frequent incident during the infancy of ship-building. The remedy applied seems to be that mentioned in _Cook's Voyages_, when, upon some occasion, to stop a leak, which could not be got at in the inside, a quilted sail was brought under the vessel, which, being drawn into the leak by the suction, prevented the entry of more water. Chaucer says,

"There n'is no new guise that it na'as old."

_O forty miles off Aberdeen_,--P. 11. v. 3.

This concluding verse differs in the three copies of the ballad, which I have collated. The printed edition bears,

"Have owre, have owre to Aberdour;"

And one of the MSS. reads,

"At the back of auld St. Johnstowne Dykes."

But, in a voyage from Norway, a shipwreck on the north coast seems as probable as either in the Firth of Forth, or Tay; and the ballad states the disaster to have taken place out of sight of land.

AULD MAITLAND.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

* * * * *

This ballad, notwithstanding its present appearance, has a claim to very high antiquity. It has been preserved by tradition; and is, perhaps, the most authentic instance of a long and very old poem, exclusively thus preserved. It is only known to a few old people, upon the sequestered banks of the Ettrick; and is published, as written down from the recitation of the mother of Mr. James Hogg[83], who sings, or rather chaunts it, with great animation. She learned the ballad from a blind man, who died at the advanced age of ninety, and is said to have been possessed of much traditionary knowledge. Although the language of this poem is much modernised, yet many words, which the reciters have retained, without understanding them, still preserve traces of its antiquity. Such are the words _Springals_ (corruptly pronounced _Springwalls_), _sowies_, _portcullize_, and many other appropriate terms of war and chivalry, which could never have been introduced by a modern ballad-maker. The incidents are striking and well-managed; and they are in strict conformity with the manners of the age, in which they are placed. The editor has, therefore, been induced to illustrate them, at considerable length, by parallel passages from Froissard, and other historians of the period to which the events refer.

[Footnote 83: This old woman is still alive, and at present resides at Craig of Douglas, in Selkirkshire.]

The date of the ballad cannot be ascertained with any degree of accuracy. Sir Richard Maitland, the hero of the poem, seems to have been in possession of his estate about 1250; so that, as he survived the commencement of the wars betwixt England and Scotland, in 1296, his prowess against the English, in defence of his castle of Lauder, or Thirlestane, must have been exerted during his extreme old age. He seems to have been distinguished for devotion, as well as valour; for, A.D. 1249, Dominus Ricardus de Mautlant gave to the abbey of Dryburgh, "_Terras suas de Haubentside, in territorio suo de Thirlestane, pro salute animae suae, et sponsae suae, antecessorum suorum et successorum suorum, in perpetuum_[84]." He also gave, to the same convent, "_Omnes terras, quas Walterus de Giling tenuit in feodo suo de Thirlestane, et pastura incommuni de Thirlestane, ad quadraginta oves, sexaginta vaccas, et ad viginti equos_."--Cartulary of Dryburgh Abbey, in the Advocates' Library.

[Footnote 84: There exists also an indenture, or bond, entered into by Patrick, abbot of Kelsau, and his convent, referring to an engagement betwixt them and Sir Richard Maitland, and Sir William, his eldest son, concerning the lands of Hedderwicke, and the pasturages of Thirlestane and Blythe. This Patrick was abbot of Kelso, betwixt 1258 and 1260.]

From the following ballad, and from the family traditions referred to in the Maitland MSS., Auld Maitland appears to have had three sons; but we learn, from the latter authority, that only one survived him, who was thence surnamed _Burd alane_, which signifies either _unequalled_, or _solitary_. A _Consolation_, addressed to Sir Richard Maitland of Lethington, a poet and scholar who flourished about the middle of the sixteenth century, and who gives name to the Maitland MSS., draws the following parallel betwixt his domestic misfortunes and those of the first Sir Richard, his great ancestor:

Sic destanie and derfe devoring deid Oft his own hous in hazard put of auld; Bot your forbeiris, frovard fortounes steid And bitter blastes, ay buir with breistis bauld; Luit wanweirdis work and walter ay they wald, Thair hardie hairtis hawtie and heroik, For fortounes feid or force wald never fauld; Bot stormis withstand with stomak stoat and stoik.

Renowned Richert of your race record, Quhais prais and prowis cannot be exprest; Mair lustie lynyage nevir haid ane lord, For he begat the bauldest bairnis and best, Maist manful men, and madinis maist modest, That ever wes syn Pyramus tym of Troy, But piteouslie thai peirles perles apest. Bereft him all hot Buird-allane, a boy.

Himselfe was aiget, his hous hang be a har, Duill and distres almaist to deid him draife; Yet Burd-allane, his only son and air, As wretched, vyiss, and valient, as the laive, His hous uphail'd, quhilk ye with honor haive. So nature that the lyk invyand name, [85]In kindlie cair dois kindly courage craif, To follow him in fortoune and in fame.

Richerd he wes, Richerd ye are also, And Maitland als, and magnanime as he; In als great age, als wrappit are in wo, Sewin sons[86] ye haid might contravaill his thrie, Bot Burd-allane ye haive behind as he: The lord his linage so inlarge in lyne, And mony hundreith nepotis grie and grie[87] Sen Richert wes as hundreth yeiris are hyne.

_An Consolator Ballad to the Richt Honorabill Sir Richert Maitland of Lethingtoune.--Maitland MSS. in Library of Edinburgh University_.

[Footnote 85: _i.e._ Similar family distress demands the same family courage.]

[Footnote 86: _Sewin sons_--This must include sons-in-law; for the last Sir Richard, like his predecessor, had only three sons, namely, I. William, the famous secretary of Queen Mary; II. Sir John, who alone survived him, and is the _Burd-allane_ of the consolation; III. Thomas, a youth of great hopes, who died in Italy. But he had four daughters, married to gentlemen of fortune.--_Pinkerton's List of Scottish Poets_, p. 114.]

[Footnote 87: _Grie and grie_--In regular descent; from _gre_, French.]

Sir William Mautlant, or Maitland, the eldest and sole surviving son of Sir Richard, ratified and confirmed, to the monks of Dryburgh, "_Omnes terras quas Dominus Ricardus de Mautlant pater suus fecit dictis monachis_ _in territorio suo de Thirlestane," Sir William is supposed to have died about 1315.--Crawford's Peerage_.

Such were the heroes of the ballad. The castle of Thirlestane is situated upon the Leader, near the town of Lauder. Whether the present building, which was erected by Chancellor Maitland, and improved by the Duke of Lauderdale, occupies the site of the ancient castle, I do not know; but it still merits the epithet of a "_darksome house_." I find no notice of the siege in history; but there is nothing improbable in supposing, that the castle, during the stormy period of the Baliol wars, may have held out against the English. The creation of a nephew of Edward I., for the pleasure of slaying him by the hand of young Maitland, is a poetical licence[88]; and may induce us to place the date of the composition about the reign of David II., or of his successor, when the real exploits of Maitland, and his sons, were in some degree obscured, as well as magnified, by the lapse of time. The inveterate hatred against the English, founded upon the usurpation of Edward I., glows in every line of the ballad.

[Footnote 88: Such liberties with the genealogy of monarchs were common to romancers. Henry the Minstrel makes Wallace slay more than one of King Edward's nephews; and Johnie Armstrong claims the merit of slaying a sister's son of Henry VIII.]

Auld Maitland is placed, by Gawain Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld, among the popular heroes of romance, in his allegorical Palice of Honour[89]:

[Footnote 89: It is impossible to pass over this curious list of Scottish romances without a note; to do any justice to the subject would require an essay.--_Raf Coilyear_ is said to have been printed by Lekprevik, in 1572; but no copy of the edition is known to exist, and the hero is forgotten, even by popular tradition.

_John the Reif_, as well as the former personage, is mentioned by Dunbar, in one of his poems, where he stiles mean persons,

Kyne of Rauf Colyard, and Johne the Reif.

They seem to have been robbers: Lord Hailes conjectured John the Reif to be the same with Johnie Armstrong; but, surely, not with his usual accuracy; for the _Palice of Honour_ was printed twenty-eight years before Johnie's execution. John the Reif is mentioned by Lindesay, in his tragedy of _Cardinal Beatoun_.

--disagysit, like John the Raif, he geid.--

_Cowkilbeis Sow_ is a strange legend in the Bannatyne MSS.--See _Complaynt of Scotland_, p. 131.

_How the wren came out of Ailsay_.--The wren, I know not why, is often celebrated in Scottish song. The testament of the wren is still sung by the children, beginning,

The wren she lies in care's nest, Wi' meikle dole and pyne.

This may be a modification of the ballad in the text.]

I Saw Raf Coilyear with his thrawin brow, Crabit John the Reif, and auld Cowkilbeis Sow; And how the wran cam out of Ailsay, And Peirs Plowman[90], that meid his workmen few; Gret Gowmacmorne, and Fyn MacCowl, and how They suld be goddis in Ireland, as they say. _Thair saw I Maitland upon auld beird gray_, Robine Hude, and Gilbert with the quhite hand, How Hay of Nauchton flew in Madin land.

In this curious verse, the most noted romances, or popular histories, of the poet's day, seem to be noticed. The preceding stanza describes the sports of the field; and that, which follows, refers to the tricks of "jugailrie;" so that the three verses comprehend the whole pastimes of the middle ages, which are aptly represented as the furniture of dame Venus's chamber. The verse, referring to Maitland, is obviously corrupted; the true reading was, probably, "_with his_ auld beird gray." Indeed the whole verse is full of errors and corruptions; which is the greater pity, as it conveys information, to be found no where else.

[Footnote 90: _Peirs Plowman_ is well known. Under the uncouth names of Gow Mac Morn, and of Fyn MacCowl, the admirers of Ossian are to recognise Gaul, the son of Morni, and Fingal himself; _heu quantum mutatus ab illo_!

To illustrate the familiar character of _Robin Hood_, would be an insult to my readers. But they may be less acquainted with _Gilbert with the White Hand_, one of his brave followers. He is mentioned in the oldest legend of that outlaw; Ritson's _Robin Hood_, p. 52.

Thryes Robin shot about, And alway he slist the wand, And so dyde good _Gylberte With the White Hand_.

_Hay of Nachton_ I take to be the knight, mentioned by Wintown, whose feats of war and travel may have become the subject of a romance, or ballad. He fought, in Flanders, under Alexander, Earl of Mar, in 1408, and is thus described;

Lord of the Nachtane, schire William, Ane honest knycht, and of gud fame, A travalit knycht lang before than.

And again, before an engagement,

The lord of Nachtane, schire William The Hay, a knycht than of gud fame, Mad schire Gilberte the Hay, knycht.

_Cronykil_, B. IX. c. 27.

I apprehend we should read "How Hay of Nachton _slew_ in Madin Land." Perhaps Madin is a corruption for Maylin, or Milan Land.]

The descendant of Auld Maitland, Sir Richard of Lethington, seems to have been frequently complimented on the popular renown of his great ancestor. We have already seen one instance; and in an elegant copy of verses in the Maitland MSS., in praise of Sir Richard's seat of Lethingtoun, which he had built, or greatly improved, this obvious topic of flattery does not escape the poet. From the terms of his panegyric we learn, that the exploits of auld Sir Richard with the gray beard, and of his three sons, were "sung in many far countrie, albeit in rural rhyme;" from which we may infer, that they were narrated rather in the shape of a popular ballad, than in a _romance of price_. If this be the case, the song, now published, may have undergone little variation since the date of the Maitland MSS.; for, divesting the poem, in praise of Lethington, of its antique spelling, it would run as smoothly, and appear as modern, as any verse in the following ballad. The lines alluded to, are addressed to the castle of Lethington:

And happie art thou sic a place, That few thy mak ar sene: But yit mair happie far that race To quhome thou dois pertene. Quha dais not knaw the Maitland bluid, The best in all this land? In quhilk sumtyme the honour stuid And worship of Scotland.

Of auld Sir Richard, of that name, We have hard sing and say; Of his triumphant nobill fame, And of his auld baird gray. And of his nobill sonnis three, Quhilk that tyme had no maik; Quhilk maid Scotland renounit be, And all England to quaik.

Quhais luifing praysis, maid trewlie, Efter that simple tyme, Ar sung in monie far countrie, Albeit in rural rhyme. And, gif I dar the treuth declair, And nane me fleitschour call, I can to him find a compair, And till his barnis all.

It is a curious circumstance, that this interesting tale, so often referred to by ancient authors, should be now recovered in so perfect a state; and many readers may be pleased to see the following sensible observations, made by a person, born in Ettrick Forest, in the humble situation of a shepherd. "I am surprised to hear, that this song is suspected by some to be a modern forgery; the contrary will be best proved, by most of the old people, hereabouts, having a great part of it by heart. Many, indeed, are not aware of the manners of this country; till this present age, the poor illiterate people, in these glens, knew of no other entertainment, in the long winter nights, than repeating, and listening to, the feats of their ancestors, recorded in songs, which I believe to be handed down, from father to son, for many generations; although, no doubt, had a copy been taken, at the end of every fifty years, there must have been some difference, occasioned by the gradual change of language. I believe it is thus that many very ancient songs have been gradually modernised, to the common ear; while, to the connoisseur, they present marks of their genuine antiquity."--_Letter to the Editor from Mr. James Hogg_. To the observations of my ingenious correspondent I have nothing to add, but that, in this, and a thousand other instances, they accurately coincide with my personal knowledge.

AULD MAITLAND.

* * * * *

There lived a king in southern land, King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane.

He had a sister's son o's ain, Was large of blood and bane; And afterward, when he came up, Young Edward hight his name.

One day he came before the king, And kneel'd low on his knee-- "A boon, a boon, my good uncle, "I crave to ask of thee!

"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland, "I fain hae wished to be; "If fifteen hundred waled[90] wight men "You'll grant to ride wi' me."

"Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae mae; "I say it sickerlie; "And I mysell, an auld gray man, "Array'd your host sall see."

King Edward rade, King Edward ran-- I wish him dool and pyne! Till he had fifteen hundred men Assembled on the Tyne.

And thrice as many at Berwicke[91] Were all for battle bound, _Who, marching forth with false Dunbar, A ready welcome found_.

They lighted on the banks of Tweed, And blew their coals sae het, And fired the Merse and Teviotdale, All in an evening late.

As they fared up o'er Lammermore, They burned baith up and down, Until they came to a darksome house; Some call it Leader-Town.

"Wha hauds this house?" young Edward cry'd, "Or wha gies't ower to me?" A gray-hair'd knight set up his head, And crackit right crousely:

"Of Scotland's king I haud my house; "He pays me meat and fee; "And I will keep my gude auld house, "While my house will keep me."

They laid their sowies to the wall, Wi' mony a heavy peal; But he threw ower to them agen Baith pitch and tar barrel.

With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn, Amang them fast he threw; Till mony of the Englishmen About the wall he slew.

Full fifteen days that braid host lay, Sieging Auld Maitland keen, Syne they hae left him, hail and fair, Within his strength of stane.

Then fifteen barks, all gaily good, Met them upon a day, Which they did lade with as much spoil As they could bear away.

"England's our ain by heritage; "And what can us withstand, "Now we hae conquer'd fair Scotland, "With buckler, bow, and brand?"

Then they are on to the land o' France, Where auld King Edward lay, Burning baith castle, tower, and town, That he met in his way,

Untill he came unto that town, Which some call Billop-Grace; There were Auld Maitland's sons, a' three, Learning at school, alas!

The eldest to the youngest said, "O see ye what I see? "Gin a' be trew yon standard says[92], "We're fatherlesse a' three.

"For Scotland's conquer'd, up and down; "Landmen we'll never be: "Now, will ye go, my brethren two, "And try some jeopardy?"

Then they hae saddled twa black horse, Twa black horse, and a grey; And they are on to King Edward's host, Before the dawn of day.

When they arriv'd before the host, They hover'd on the lay-- "Wilt thou lend me our king's standard, "To bear a little way?"

"Where was thou bred? where was thou born? "Where, or in what countrie?" "In north of England I was born: (It needed him to lie.)

"A knight me gat, a lady bore, "I'm a squire of high renowne; I well may bear't to any king, "That ever yet wore crowne."

"He ne'er came of an Englishman, "Had sic an e'e or bree; "But thou art the likest Auld Maitland, "That ever I did see.

"But sick a gloom, on ae brow-head, "Grant I ne'er see agane! "For mony of our men he slew, "And mony put to pain."

When Maitland heard his father's name, An angry man was he! Then, lifting up a gilt dagger, Hung low down by his knee,

He stabb'd the knight, the standard bore, He stabb'd him cruellie; Then caught the standard by the neuk, And fast away rode he.

"Now, is't na time, brothers," he cried, "Now, is't na time to flee?" "Aye, by my sooth!" they baith replied, "We'll bear you company."

The youngest turn'd him in a path, And drew a burnished brand, And fifteen of the foremost slew, Till back the lave did stand.

He spurr'd the gray into the path, Till baith his sides they bled-- "Gray! thou maun carry me away, "Or my life lies in wad!"

The captain lookit ower the wa', About the break o' day; There he beheld the three Scots lads, Pursued along the way.

"Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg! "My nephews are at hand; And they sall lodge wi' me to-night, "In spite of all England."

Whene'er they came within the yate, They thrust their horse them frae, And took three lang spears in their hands, Saying, "Here sall come nae mae!".

And they shot out, and they shot in, Till it was fairly day; When mony of the Englishmen About the draw-brigg lay.

Then they hae yoked carts and wains, To ca' their dead away, And shot auld dykes aboon the lave, In gutters where they lay.

The king, at his pavilion door, Was heard aloud to say, "Last night, three o' the lads o' France "My standard stole away.

"Wi' a fause tale, disguised, they came, "And wi' a fauser trayne; "And to regain my gaye standard, "These men were a' down slayne."

"It ill befits," the youngest said, "A crowned king to lie; "But, or that I taste meat and drink, "Reproved sall he be."

He went before King Edward strait, And kneel'd low on his knee; "I wad hae leave, my lord," he said, "To speak a word wi' thee."

The king he turned him round about, And wistna what to say-- Quo' he, "Man, thou's hae leave to speak, Tho' thou should speak a' day."

"Ye said, that three young lads o' France "Your standard stole away, "Wi' a fause tale, and fauser trayne, "And mony men did slay:

"But we are nane the lads o' France, "Nor e'er pretend to be; "We are three lads o' fair Scotland, "Auld Maitland's sons are we;

"Nor is there men, in a' your host, "Daur fight us, three to three." "Now, by my sooth," young Edward said, "Weel fitted ye sall be!

"Piercy sall wi' the eldest fight, "And Ethert Lunn wi' thee; "William of Lancaster the third, "And bring your fourth to me!"

"_Remember, Piercy, aft the Scot[93] "Has cow'rd beneath thy hand_: "For every drap of Maitland blood, "I'll gie a rigg of land."

He clanked Piercy ower the head, A deep wound and a sair, Till the best blood o' his bodie Cam rinning down his hair.

"Now, I've slayne ane; slay ye the twa; "And that's gude companye; "And if the twa suld slay you baith, "Ye'se get na help frae me."

But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear, Had many battles seen; He set the youngest wonder sair, Till the eldest he grew keen--

"I am nae king, nor nae sic thing: "My word it shanna stand! "For Ethert sail a buffet bide, "Come he beneath my brand."

He clanked Ethert ower the head, A deep wound and a sair, Till the best blood of his bodie Cam rinning ower his hair.

"Now I've slayne twa; slay ye the ane; "Is na that gude companye? "And tho' the ane suld slay ye baith, "Ye'se get na help o' me."

The twa-some they hae slayne the ane; They maul'd him cruellie; Then hung them over the draw-brigg, That all the host might see.

They rade their horse, they ran their horse, Then hovered on the lee; "We be three lads o' fair Scotland, "That fain wad fighting see."

This boasting, when young Edward heard. An angry man was he! "I'll take yon lad, I'll bind yon lad, "And bring him bound to thee!"

"Now, God forbid," King Edward said, "That ever thou suld try! "Three worthy leaders we hae lost, "And thou the fourth wad lie.

"If thou should'st hang on yon draw-brigg, "Blythe wad I never be!" But, wi' the poll-axe in his hand, Upon the brigg sprang he.

The first stroke that young Edward gae, He struck wi' might and mayn; He clove the Maitlan's helmet stout, And bit right nigh the brayn.

When Maitland saw his ain blood fa', An angry man was he! He let his weapon frae him fa', And at his throat did flee.

And thrice about he did him swing, Till on the grund he light, Where he has halden young Edward, Tho' he was great in might.

"Now, let him up," King Edward cried, "And let him come to me! "And, for the deed that thou hast done, "Thou shalt hae erldomes three!"

"Its ne'er be said in France, nor e'er In Scotland, when I'm hame, That Edward once lay under me, And e'er gat up again!"

He pierced him through and through the heart; He maul'd him cruellie; Then hung him ower the draw-brigg, Beside the other three.

"Now, take frae me that feather-bed! "Mak me a bed o' strae! "I wish I had na lived this day, "To mak my heart sae wae.

"If I were ance at London tower, "Where I was wont to be, "I never mair suld gang frae hame, "Till borne on a bier-tree."

[Footnote 90: _Waled_--Chosen.]

[Footnote 91: North-Berwick, according to some reciters.]

[Footnote 92: Edward had quartered the arms of Scotland with his own.]

[Footnote 93: The two first lines are modern, to supply an imperfect stanza.]

NOTES ON AULD MAITLAND.

* * * * *

_Young Edward hight his name_.--P, 25. v. 2.

Were it possible to find an authority for calling this personage _Edmund_, we should be a step nearer history; for a brother, though not a nephew of Edward I., so named, died in Gascony during an unsuccessful campaign against the French.--_Knighton_, Lib. III. cap. 8.

_I wish him dool and pyne_.--P. 26. v. 3.

Thus, Spenser, in _Mother Huberd's tale_--

Thus is this ape become a shepherd swain, And the false fox his dog, God give them pain!

_Who, marching forth with false Dunbar, A ready welcome found_.--P. 26. v. 4.

These two lines are modern, and inserted to complete the verse. Dunbar, the fortress of Patrick, Earl of March, was too often opened to the English, by the treachery of that baron, during the reign of Edward I.

_They laid their sowies to the wall_, _Wi' many a heavy peal_.--P. 27. v. 4.

In this and the following verse, the attack and defence of a fortress, during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is described accurately and concisely. The sow was a military engine, resembling the Roman _testudo_. It was framed of wood, covered with hides, and mounted on wheels, so that, being rolled forwards to the foot of the besieged wall, it served as a shed, or cover, to defend the miners, or those who wrought the battering ram, from the stones and arrows of the garrison. In the course of the famous defence, made by Black Agnes, Countess of March, of her husband's castle of Dunbar, Montague, Earl of Salisbury, who commanded the besiegers, caused one of these engines to be wheeled up to the wall. The countess, who, with her damsels, kept her station on the battlements, and affected to wipe off with her handkerchief the dust raised by the stones, hurled from the English machines, awaited the approach of this new engine of assault. "Beware, Montague," she exclaimed, while the fragment of a rock was discharged from the wall--"Beware, Montague! for farrow shall thy sow!"[94] Their cover being dashed to pieces, the assailants, with great loss and difficulty, scrambled back to their trenches. "By the regard of suche a ladye," would Froissart have said, "and by her comforting, a man ought to be worth two men, at need." The sow was called by the French _Truie_.--See _Hailes' Annals_, Vol. II. p. 89. _Wintown's Cronykil_,