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Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Volume 2 (of 3)

by Walter Scott · English · Gutenberg #12882 · 464,221 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Volume 2 (of 3)

Author: Walter Scott


        
Release date: July 11, 2004 [eBook #12882]
                Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) ***

MINSTRELSY
OF THE
SCOTTISH BORDER:


CONSISTING OF
HISTORICAL AND ROMANTIC BALLADS,
COLLECTED
IN THE SOUTHERN COUNTIES OF SCOTLAND; WITH A FEW
OF MODERN DATE, FOUNDED UPON
LOCAL TRADITION.


IN THREE VOLUMES.


VOL. II.


 The songs, to savage virtue dear.
 That won of yore the public ear,
 Ere Polity, sedate and sage,
 Had quench'd the fires of feudal rage.--WARTON.


THIRD EDITION.

1806.



CONTENTS
TO
THE SECOND VOLUME.


LESLEY'S MARCH
The Battle of Philiphaugh
The Gallant Grahams
The Battle of Pentland Hills
The Battle of Loudonhill
The Battle of Bothwell-bridge



PART SECOND.

_ROMANTIC BALLADS._


Scottish Music, an Ode
Introduction to the Tale of Tamlane
The Young Tamlane
Erlinton
The Twa Corbies
The Douglas Tragedy
Young Benjie
Lady Anne
Lord William
The Broomfield-Hill
Proud Lady Margaret
The Original Ballad of the Broom of Cowdenknows
Lord Randal
Sir Hugh Le Blond
Graeme and Bewick
The Duel of Wharton and Stuart, Part I.
    Part II.
The Lament of the Border Widow
Fair Helen of Kirkonnel, Part I.
    Part II.
Hughie the Graeme
Johnie of Breadislee
Katherine Janfarie
The Laird o' Logie
A Lyke-wake Dirge
The Dowie Dens of Yarrow
The Gay Goss Hawk
Brown Adam
Jellon Grame
Willie's Ladye
Clerk Saunders
Earl Richard
The Lass of Lochroyan
Rose the Red and White Lilly



MINSTRELSY
OF THE
SCOTTISH BORDER.


PART FIRST.--CONTINUED.

_HISTORICAL BALLADS._




LESLY'S MARCH.


  "But, O my country! how shall memory trace
  "Thy glories, lost in either Charles's days,
  "When through thy fields destructive rapine spread,
  "Nor sparing infants' tears, nor hoary head!
  "In those dread days, the unprotected swain
  "Mourn'd, in the mountains, o'er his wasted plain;
  "Nor longer vocal, with the shepherd's lay,
  "Were Yarrow's banks, or groves of Endermay."
      LANGHORN--_Genius and Valour_.


Such are the verses, in which a modern bard has painted the desolate
state of Scotland, during a period highly unfavourable to poetical
composition. Yet the civil and religious wars of the seventeenth century
have afforded some subjects for traditionary poetry, and the reader is
here presented with the ballads of that disastrous aera. Some prefatory
history may not be unacceptable.

That the Reformation was a good and a glorious work, few will be such
slavish bigots as to deny. But the enemy came, by night, and sowed tares
among the wheat; or rather; the foul and rank soil, upon which the seed
was thrown, pushed forth, together with the rising crop, a plentiful
proportion of pestilential weeds. The morals of the reformed clergy were
severe; their learning was usually respectable, sometimes profound;
and their eloquence, though often coarse, was vehement, animated, and
popular. But they never could forget, that their rise had been achieved
by the degradation, if not the fall, of the crown; and hence, a body of
men, who, in most countries, have been attached to monarchy, were in
Scotland, for nearly two centuries, sometimes the avowed enemies, always
the ambitious rivals, of their prince. The disciples of Calvin could
scarcely avoid a tendency to democracy, and the republican form of
church government was sometimes hinted at, as no unfit model for the
state; at least, the kirkmen laboured to impress, upon their followers
and hearers, the fundamental principle, that the church should be solely
governed by those, unto whom God had given the spiritual sceptre. The
elder Melvine, in a conference with James VI., seized the monarch by the
sleeve, and, addressing him as _God's sillie vassal_, told him, "There
are two kings, and two kingdomes. There is Christ, and his kingdome, the
kirke; whose subject King James the sixth is, and of whose kingdome he
is not a king, nor a head, nor a lord, but a member; and they, whom
Christ hath called and commanded to watch ower his kirke, and govern his
spiritual kingdome, have sufficient authorise and power from him so to
do; which no christian king, no prince, should controul or discharge,
but fortifie and assist: otherwise they are not faithful subjects to
Christ."--_Calderwood_, p. 329. The delegated theocracy, thus sternly
claimed, was exercised with equal rigour. The offences in the king's
household fell under their unceremonious jurisdiction, and he was
formally reminded of his occasional neglect to say grace before and
after meat--his repairing to hear the word more rarely than was
fitting--his profane banning and swearing, and keeping of evil
company--and finally, of his queen's carding, dancing, night-walking,
and such like profane pastimes.--_Calderwood_, p. 313. A curse, direct
or implied, was formally denounced against every man, horse, and spear,
who should assist the king in his quarrel with the Earl of Gowrie; and
from the pulpit, the favourites of the listening sovereign were likened
to Haman, his wife to Herodias, and he himself to Ahab, to Herod, and
to Jeroboam. These effusions of zeal could not be very agreeable to the
temper of James: and accordingly, by a course of slow, and often crooked
and cunning policy, he laboured to arrange the church-government upon
a less turbulent and menacing footing. His eyes were naturally turned
towards the English hierarchy, which had been modelled, by the despotic
Henry VIII., into such a form, as to connect indissolubly the interest
of the church with that of the regal power.[A] The Reformation, in
England, had originated in the arbitrary will of the prince; in
Scotland, and in all other countries of Europe, it had commenced among
insurgents of the lower ranks. Hence, the deep and essential
difference which separated the Huguenots, the Lutherans, the Scottish
presbyterians, and, in fine, all the other reformed churches, from that
of England. But James, with a timidity which sometimes supplies the
place of prudence, contented himself with gradually imposing upon the
Scottish nation a limited and moderate system of episcopacy, which,
while it gave to a proportion of the churchmen a seat in the council of
the nation, induced them to look up to the sovereign, as the power to
whose influence they owed their elevation. But, in other respects, James
spared the prejudices of his subjects; no ceremonial ritual was imposed
upon their consciences; the pastors were reconciled by the prospect of
preferment,[B] the dress and train of the bishops were plain and decent;
the system of tythes was placed upon a moderate and unoppressive
footing;[C] and, perhaps, on the whole, the Scottish hierarchy contained
as few objectionable points as any system of church-government in
Europe. Had it subsisted to the present day, although its doctrines
could not have been more pure, nor its morals more exemplary, than those
of the present kirk of Scotland, yet its degrees of promotion might have
afforded greater encouragement to learning, and objects of laudable
ambition to those, who might dedicate themselves to its service. But
the precipitate bigotry of the unfortunate Charles I. was a blow to
episcopacy in Scotland, from which it never perfectly recovered.

[Footnote A: Of this the Covenanters were so sensible, as to trace
(what they called) the Antichristian hierarchy, with its idolatry,
superstition, and human inventions, "to the prelacy of England, the
fountain whence all these Babylonish streams issue unto us."--See their
manifesto on entering England, in 1640.]

[Footnote B: Many of the preachers, who had been loudest in the cause of
presbytery, were induced to accept of bishoprics. Such was, for example,
William Cooper, who was created bishop of Galloway. This recreant Mass
John was a hypochondriac, and conceived his lower extremities to be
composed of glass; hence, on his court advancement, the following
epigram was composed:

    _"Aureus heu! frugilem confregit malleus urnam."_]

[Footnote C: This part of the system was perfected in the reign of
Charles I.]

It has frequently happened, that the virtues of the individual, at least
their excess (if, indeed, there can be an excess in virtue), have been
fatal to the prince. Never was this more fully exemplified than in the
history of Charles I. His zeal for religion, his family affection, the
spirit with which he defended his supposed rights, while they do honour
to the man, were the fatal shelves upon which the monarchy was wrecked.
Impatient to accomplish the total revolution, which his father's
cautious timidity had left incomplete, Charles endeavoured at once to
introduce into Scotland the church-government, and to renew, in England,
the temporal domination, of his predecessor, Henry VIII. The furious
temper of the Scottish nation first took fire; and the brandished
footstool of a prostitute[A] gave the signal for civil dissension,
which ceased not till the church was buried under the ruins of the
constitution; till the nation had stooped to a military despotism; and
the monarch to the block of the executioner.

[Footnote A: "_Out, false loon! wilt thou say the mass at my lug
(ear)_," was the well known exclamation of Margaret Geddes, as she
discharged her missile tripod against the bishop of Edinburgh, who,
in obedience to the orders of the privy-council, was endeavouring to
rehearse the common prayer. Upon a seat more elevated, the said Margaret
had shortly before done penance, before the congregation, for the sin of
fornication: such, at least, is the tory tradition.]

The consequence of Charles' hasty and arbitrary measures were soon
evident. The united nobility, gentry, and clergy of Scotland, entered
into the SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT, by which memorable deed, they
subscribed and swore a national renunciation of the hierarchy. The walls
of the prelatic Jericho (to use the language of the times) were thus
levelled with the ground, and the curse of Hiel, the Bethelite,
denounced against those who should rebuild them. While the clergy
thundered, from the pulpits, against the prelatists and malignants (by
which names were distinguished the scattered and heartless adherents of
Charles), the nobility and gentry, in arms, hurried to oppose the march
of the English army, which now advanced towards their borders. At the
head of their defensive forces they placed Alexander Lesley, who, with
many of his best officers, had been trained to war under the great
Gustavus Adolphus. They soon assembled an army of 26,000 men, whose
camp, upon Dunse-law, is thus described by an eye-witness.

"Mr Baillie acknowledges, that it was an agreeable feast to his eyes,
to survey the place: it is a round hill, about a Scots mile in circle,
rising, with very little declivity, to the height of a bow-shot, and the
head somewhat plain, and near a quarter of a mile in length and breadth;
on the top it was garnished with near forty field pieces, pointed
towards the east and south. The colonels, who were mostly noblemen, as
Rothes, Cassilis, Eglinton, Dalhousie, Lindsay, Lowdon, Boyd, Sinclair,
Balcarras, Flemyng, Kirkcudbright, Erskine, Montgomery, Yester, &c.
lay in large tents at the head of their respective regiments; their
captains, who generally were barons, or chief gentlemen, lay around
them: next to these were the lieutenants, who were generally old
veterans, and had served in that, or a higher station, over sea; and the
common soldiers lay outmost, all in huts of timber, covered with divot,
or straw. Every company, which, according to the first plan, did consist
of two hundred men, had their colours flying at the captain's tent door,
with the Scots arms upon them, and this motto, in golden letters, "FOR
CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT." Against this army, so well arrayed and
disciplined, and whose natural hardihood was edged and exalted by a high
opinion of their sacred cause, Charles marched at the head of a large
force, but divided, by the emulation of the commanders, and enervated,
by disuse of arms. A faintness of spirit pervaded the royal army, and
the king stooped to a treaty with his Scottish subjects. The treaty was
soon broken; and, in the following year, Dunse-law again presented the
same edifying spectacle of a presbyterian army. But the Scots were not
contented with remaining there. They passed the Tweed; and the English
troops, in a skirmish at Newburn, shewed either more disaffection,
or cowardice, than had at any former period disgraced their national
character. This war was concluded by the treaty of Rippon; in
consequence of which, and of Charles's concessions, made during his
subsequent visit to his native country, the Scottish parliament
congratulated him on departing "a contented king, from a contented
people." If such content ever existed, it was of short duration.

The storm, which had been soothed to temporary rest in Scotland, burst
forth in England with treble violence. The popular clamour accused
Charles, or his ministers, of fetching into Britain the religion of
Rome, and the policy of Constantinople. The Scots felt most keenly the
first, and the English the second, of these aggressions. Accordingly,
when the civil war of England broke forth, the Scots nation, for a time,
regarded it in neutrality, though not with indifference. But, when the
successes of a prelatic monarch, against a presbyterian parliament, were
paving the way for rebuilding the system of hierarchy, they could no
longer remain inactive. Bribed by the delusive promise of Sir Henry
Vane, and Marshall, the parliamentary commissioners, that the church of
England should be reformed, _according to the word of God_, which, they
fondly believed, amounted to an adoption of presbytery, they agreed to
send succours to their brethren of England. Alexander Lesly, who ought
to have ranked among the _contented_ subjects, having been raised by the
king to the honours of Earl of Leven, was, nevertheless, readily induced
to accept the command of this second army. Doubtless, where insurrection
is not only pardoned, but rewarded, a monarch has little right to expect
gratitude for benefits, which all the world, as well as the receiver,
must attribute to fear. Yet something is due to decency; and the best
apology for Lesly, is his zeal for propagating presbyterianism in
England, the bait which had caught the whole parliament of Scotland.
But, although the Earl of Leven was commander in chief, David Lesly, a
yet more renowned and active soldier than himself, was major-general of
the cavalry, and, in truth, bore away the laurels of the expedition.

The words of the following march, which was played in the van of this
presbyterian crusade, were first published by Allan Ramsay, in his
_Evergreen_; and they breathe the very spirit we might expect. Mr
Ritson, in his collection of Scottish songs, has favoured the public
with the music, which seems to have been adapted to the bagpipes.

The hatred of the old presbyterians to the organ was, apparently,
invincible. It is here vilified with the name of a "_chest-full of
whistles_," as the episcopal chapel at Glasgow was, by the vulgar,
opprobriously termed the _Whistling Kirk_. Yet, such is the revolution
of sentiment upon this, as upon more important points, that reports have
lately been current, of a plan to introduce this noble instrument into
presbyterian congregations.

The share, which Lesly's army bore in the action of Marston Moor, has
been exalted, or depressed, as writers were attached to the English or
Scottish nations, to the presbyterian or independent factions. Mr Laing
concludes, with laudable impartiality, that the victory was equally due
to "Cromwell's iron brigade of disciplined independents, and to three
regiments of Lesly's horse."--Vol I. p. 244.



LESLEY'S MARCH.


  March! march!
  Why the devil do ye na march?
  Stand to your arms, my lads,
  Fight in good order;
  Front about, ye musketeers all,
  Till ye come to the English border:
    Stand til't, and fight like men,
    True gospel to maintain.
  The parliament's blythe to see us a' coming.
    When to the kirk we come,
    We'll purge it ilka room,
  Frae popish reliques, and a' sic innovation,
    That a' the warld may see,
    There's nane in the right but we,
  Of the auld Scottish nation.
  _Jenny_ shall wear the hood,
  _Jocky_ the sark of God;
  And the kist-fou of whistles,
  That mak sic a cleiro,
    Our piper's braw
    Shall hae them a',
    Whate'er come on it:
    Busk up your plaids, my lads!
    Cock up your bonnets!
          _Da Capo._



THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.


This ballad is so immediately connected with the former, that the editor
is enabled to continue his sketch of historical transactions, from the
march of Lesly.

In the insurrection of 1680, all Scotland, south from the Grampians, was
actively and zealously engaged. But, after the treaty of Rippon, the
first fury of the revolutionary torrent may be said to have foamed off
its force, and many of the nobility began to look round, with horror,
upon the rocks and shelves amongst which it had hurried them. Numbers
regarded the defence of Scotland as a just and necessary warfare, who
did not see the same reason for interfering in the affairs of England.
The visit of King Charles to the metropolis of his fathers, in all
probability, produced its effect on his nobles. Some were allied to
the house of Stuart by blood; all regarded it as the source of their
honours, and venerated the ancient in obtaining the private objects of
ambition, or selfish policy which had induced them to rise up against
the crown. Amongst these late penitents, the well known marquis of
Montrose was distinguished, as the first who endeavoured to recede from
the paths of rude rebellion. Moved by the enthusiasm of patriotism, or
perhaps of religion, but yet more by ambition, the sin of noble
minds, Montrose had engaged, eagerly and deeply, upon the side of the
covenanters He had been active in pressing the town of Aberdeen to take
the covenant, and his success against the Gordons, at the bridge of Dee,
left that royal burgh no other means of safety from pillage. At the head
of his own battalion, he waded through the Tweed, in 1640, and totally
routed the vanguard of the king's cavalry. But, in 1643, moved with
resentment against the covenanters who preferred, to his prompt and
ardent character, the caution of the wily and politic earl of Argyle, or
seeing, perhaps, that the final views of that party were inconsistent
with the interests of monarchy, and of the constitution, Montrose
espoused the falling cause of royalty and raised the Highland clans,
whom he united to a small body of Irish, commanded by Alexander
Macdonald, still renowned in the north, under the title of Colkitto.
With these tumultuary and uncertain forces, he rushed forth, like a
torrent from the mountains, and commenced a rapid and brilliant career
of victory. At Tippermoor, where he first met the covenanters, their
defeat was so effectual, as to appal the presbyterian courage, even
after the lapse of eighty years.[A] A second army was defeated under the
walls of Aberdeen; and the pillage of the ill-fated town was doomed to
expiate the principles, which Montrose himself had formerly imposed upon
them. Argyleshire next experienced his arms; the domains of his rival
were treated with more than military severity; and Argyle himself,
advancing to Inverlochy for the defence of his country, was totally
and disgracefully routed by Montrose. Pressed betwixt two armies,
well appointed, and commanded by the most experienced generals of the
Covenant, Mozitrose displayed more military skill in the astonishingly
rapid marches, by which he avoided fighting to disadvantage, than even
in the field of victory. By one of those hurried marches, from the banks
of Loch Katrine to the heart of Inverness-shire, he was enabled to
attack, and totally to defeat, the Covenanters, at Aulderne though he
brought into the field hardly one half of their forces. Baillie, a
veteran officer, was next routed by him, at the village of Alford,
in Strathbogie. Encouraged by these repeated and splendid successes,
Montrose now descended into the heart of Scotland, and fought a bloody
and decisive battle, near Kilsyth, where four thousand covenanters fell
under the Highland claymore.

[Footnote A: Upon the breaking out of the insurrection, in the year
1715, the earl of Rothes, sheriff and lord-lieutenant of the county of
Fife, issued out an order for "all the fencible men of the countie to
meet him, at a place called Cashmoor. The gentlemen took no notice of
his orders, nor did the commons, except those whom the ministers forced
to goe to the place of rendezvouse, to the number of fifteen hundred
men, being all that their utmost diligence could perform. But those of
that countie, having been taught by their experience, that it is not
good meddling with edge tools, especiallie in the hands of Highlandmen,
were very averse from taking armes. No sooner they reflected on the name
of the place of rendezvouse, Cashmoor, than Tippermoor was called to
mind; a place not far from thence, where Montrose had routed them, when
under the command of my great-grand-uncle the earl of Wemyss, then
generall of God's armie. In a word, the unlucky choice of a place,
called _Moo_, appeared ominous; and that, with the flying report of the
Highlandmen having made themselves masters of Perth, made them throw
down their armes, and run, notwithstanding the trouble that Rothes and
the ministers gave themselves to stop them."--M.S. _Memoirs of Lord St
Clair._]

This victory opened the whole of Scotland to Montrose He occupied the
capital, and marched forward to the border; not merely to complete the
subjection of the southern provinces, but with the flattering hope of
pouring his victorious army into England, and bringing to the support of
Charles the sword of his paternal tribes.

Half a century before Montrose's career, the state of the borders was
such as might have enabled him easily to have accomplished his daring
plan. The marquis of Douglas, the earls of Hume, Roxburgh, Traquair, and
Annandale, were all descended of mighty border chiefs, whose ancestors
could, each of them, have led into the field a body of their own
vassals, equal in numbers, and superior in discipline, to the army of
Montrose. But the military spirit of the borderers, and their attachment
to their chiefs, had been much broken since the union of the crowns. The
disarming acts of James had been carried rigorously into execution, and
the smaller proprietors, no longer feeling the necessity of protection
from their chiefs in war, had aspired to independence, and embraced
the tenets of the covenant. Without imputing, with Wishart, absolute
treachery to the border nobles, it may be allowed, that they looked with
envy upon Montrose, and with dread and aversion upon his rapacious and
disorderly forces. Hence, had it been in their power, it might not have
altogether suited their inclinations, to have brought the strength
of the border lances to the support of the northern clans. The once
formidable name of Douglas still sufficed to raise some bands, by
whom Montrose was joined, in his march down the Gala. With these
reinforcements, and with the remnant of his Highlanders (for a great
number had returned home with Colkitto, to deposit their plunder, and
provide for their families), Montrose after traversing the border,
finally encamped upon the field of Philiphaugh.

The river Ettrick, immediately after its junction with the Yarrow, and
previous to its falling into the Tweed, makes a large sweep to the
southward, and winds almost beneath the lofty bank, on which the town
of Selkirk stands; leaving, upon the northern side, a large and level
plain, extending in an easterly direction, from a hill, covered with
natural copse-wood, called the Harehead-wood, to the high ground which
forms the banks of the Tweed, near Sunderland-hall. This plain is called
Philliphaugh:[A] it is about a mile and a half in length, and a quarter
of a mile broad; and, being defended, to the northward, by the high
hills which separate Tweed from Yarrow, by the river in front, and by
the high grounds, already mentioned on each flank, it forms, at once,
a convenient and a secure field of encampment. On each flank Montrose
threw up some trenches, which are still visible; and here he posted his
infantry, amounting to about twelve or fifteen hundred men. He himself
took up his quarters in the burgh of Selkirk, and, with him, the
cavalry, in number hardly one thousand, but respectable, as being
chiefly composed of gentlemen, and their immediate retainers. In this
manner, by a fatal and unaccountable error, the river Ettrick was thrown
betwixt the cavalry and infantry, which were to depend upon each other
for intelligence and mutual support. But this might be overlooked by
Montrose, in the conviction, that there was no armed enemy of Charles
in the realm of Scotland; for he is said to have employed the night in
writing and dispatching this agreeable intelligence to the king. Such an
enemy was already within four miles of his camp.

[Footnote A: The Scottish language is rich in words, expressive of local
situation The single word _haugh_, conveys, to a Scotsman, almost all
that I have endeavoured to explain in the text, by circumlocutory
description.]

Recalled by the danger of the cause of the Covenant, General David Lesly
came down from England, at the head of those iron squadrons, whose force
had been proved in the fatal battle of Long Marston Moor. His array
consisted of from five to six thousand men, chiefly cavalry. Lesly's
first plan seems to have been, to occupy the mid-land counties, so as to
intercept the return of Montrose's Highlanders, and to force him to an
unequal combat Accordingly, he marched along the eastern coast, from
Berwick to Tranent; but there he suddenly altered his direction, and,
crossing through Mid-Lothian, turned again to the southward, and,
following the course of Gala water, arrived at Melrose, the evening
before the engagement How it is possible that Montrose should have
received no notice whatever of the march of so considerable an army,
seems almost inconceivable, and proves, that the country was strongly
disaffected to his cause, or person. Still more extraordinary does it
appear, that, even with the advantage of a thick mist, Lesly should
have, the next morning, advanced towards Montrose's encampment without
being descried by a single scout. Such, however, was the case, and it
was attended with all the consequences of the most complete surprisal.
The first intimation that Montrose received of the march of Lesly,
was the noise of the conflict, or, rather, that which attended the
unresisted slaughter of his infantry, who never formed a line of battle:
the right wing alone, supported by the thickets of Harehead-wood, and
by the entrenchments which are there still visible, stood firm for some
time. But Lesly had detached two thousand men, who, crossing the Ettrick
still higher up than his main body, assaulted the rear of Montrose's
right wing. At this moment, the marquis himself arrived, and beheld
his army dispersed, for the first time, in irretrievable route. He
had thrown himself upon a horse the instant he heard the firing, and,
followed by such of his disorderly cavalry as had gathered upon the
alarm, he galloped from Selkirk, crossed the Ettrick, and made a bold
and desperate attempt to retrieve the fortune of the day. But all was
in vain; and, after cutting his way, almost singly, through a body of
Lesly's troopers, the gallant Montrose graced by his example the
retreat of the fugitives. That retreat he continued up Yarrow, and over
Minch-moor; nor did he stop till he arrived at Traquair, sixteen miles
from the field of battle. Upon Philiphaugh he lost, in one defeat, the
fruit of six splendid victories: nor was he again able effectually to
make head, in Scotland, against the covenanted cause. The number slain
in the field did not exceed three or four hundred; for the fugitives
found refuge in the mountains, which had often been the retreat of
vanquished armies, and were impervious to the pursuer's cavalry. Lesly
abused his victory, and dishonoured his arms, by slaughtering, in cold
blood, many of the prisoners whom he had taken; and the court-yard of
Newark castle is said to have been the spot, upon which they were
shot by his command. Many others are said, by Wishart, to have been
precipitated from a high bridge over the Tweed. This, as Mr Laing
remarks, is impossible; because there was not a bridge over the Tweed
betwixt Peebles and Berwick. But there is an old bridge, over the
Ettrick, only four miles from Philiphaugh, and another over the Yarrow,
both of which lay in the very line of flight and pursuit; and either
might have been the scene of the massacre. But if this is doubtful,
it is too certain, that several of the royalists were executed by the
Covenanters, as traitors to the king and parliament.[A]

[Footnote A: A covenanted minister, present at the execution of these
gentlemen observed, "This wark gaes bonnilie on!" an amiable
exclamation equivalent to the modern _ça ira_, so often used on similar
occasions.--_Wishart's Memoirs of Montrose._]

I have reviewed, at some length, the details of this memorable
engagement, which, at the same time, terminated the career of a hero,
likened, by no mean judge of mankind[A] to those of antiquity, and
decided the fate of his country. It is further remarkable, as the last
field which was fought in Ettrick forest, the scene of so many bloody
actions. The unaccountable neglect of patroles, and the imprudent
separation betwixt the horse and foot, seem to have been the immediate
causes of Montrose's defeat. But the ardent and impetuous character
of this great warrior, corresponding with that of the troops which he
commanded was better calculated for attack than defence; for surprising
others, rather than for providing against surprise himself. Thus, he
suffered loss by a sudden attack upon part of his forces, stationed at
Aberdeen;[B] and, had he not extricated himself with the most singular
ability, he must have lost his whole army, when surprised by Baillie,
during the plunder of Dundee. Nor has it escaped an ingenious modern
historian, that his final defeat at Dunbeath, so nearly resembles in its
circumstances the surprise at Philiphaugh, as to throw some shade on his
military talents.--LAING'S _History_.

[Footnote A: Cardinal du Retz.]

[Footnote B: Colonel Hurry, with a party of horse, surprised the town,
while Montrose's Highlanders and cavaliers were "dispersed through the
town, drinking carelessly in their lodgings; and, hearing the horse's
feet, and great noise, were astonished, never dreaming of their enemy.
However, Donald Farquharson happened to come to the causey, where he was
cruelly slain, anent the Court de Guard; a brave gentleman, and one of
the noblest captains amongst all the Highlanders of Scotland. Two or
three others were killed, and some (taken prisoners) had to Edinburgh,
and cast into irons in the tolbooth. Great lamentation was made for this
gallant, being still the king's man for life and death."--SPALDING
Vol. II. p. 281. The journalist, to whom all matters were of equal
importance, proceeds to inform us, that Hurry took the marquis of
Huntly's best horse, and, in his retreat through Montrose seized upon
the marquis's second son. He also expresses his regret, that "the said
Donald Farquharson's body was found in the street, stripped naked: for
they tirr'd from off his body a rich stand of apparel, but put on the
same day."--_Ibid._]

The following ballad, which is preserved by tradition in Selkirkshire,
coincides accurately with historical fact. This, indeed, constitutes its
sole merit. The Covenanters were not, I dare say, addicted, more
than their successors "to the profane and unprofitable art of
poem-making."[A] Still, however, they could not refrain from some
strains of exultation, over the defeat of the _truculent tyrant_, James
Grahame. For, gentle reader, Montrose, who, with resources which seemed
as none, gained six victories, and reconquered a kingdom; who, a poet, a
scholar, a cavalier, and a general, could have graced alike a court,
and governed a camp; this Montrose was numbered, by his covenanted
countrymen, among "the troublers of Israel, the fire-brands of hell, the
Corahs, the Balaams, the Doegs, the Rabshakahs, the Hamans, the Tobiahs,
and Sanballats of the time."

[Footnote A: So little was the spirit of illiberal fanaticism decayed
in some parts of Scotland, that only thirty years ago, when Wilson,
the ingenious author of a poem, called "_Clyde_," now republished, was
inducted into the office of schoolmaster at Greenock, he was obliged
formally, and in writing, to abjure _"the profane and unprofitable art
of poem-making."_ It is proper to add, that such an incident is _now_ as
unlikely to happen in Greenock as in London.]



THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.


  On Philiphaugh a fray began,
    At Hairhead wood it ended;
  The Scots out o'er the Graemes they ran,
    Sae merrily they bended.

  Sir David frae the border came,
    Wi' heart an' hand came he;
  Wi' him three thousand bonny Scotts,
    To bear him company.

  Wi' him three thousand valiant men,
    A noble sight to see!
  A cloud o' mist them weel concealed,
    As close as e'er might be.

  When they came to the Shaw burn,
    Said he, "Sae weel we frame,
  "I think it is convenient,
    "That we should sing a psalm."[A]

  When they came to the Lingly burn,
    As day-light did appear,
  They spy'd an aged father,
    And he did draw them near.

  "Come hither, aged father!"
    Sir David he did cry,
  "And tell me where Montrose lies,
    "With all his great army."

  "But, first, you must come tell to me,
    "If friends or foes you be;
  "I fear you are Montrose's men,
    "Come frae the north country."

  "No, we are nane o' Montrose's men,
    "Nor e'er intend to be;
  "I am sir David Lesly,
    "That's speaking unto thee."

  "If you're sir David Lesly,
    "As I think weel ye be,
  "I'm sorry ye hae brought so few
    "Into your company.

  "There's fifteen thousand armed men,
    "Encamped on yon lee;
  "Ye'll never be a bite to them,
    "For aught that I can see.

  "But, halve your men in equal parts,
    "Your purpose to fulfil;
  "Let ae half keep the water side,
    "The rest gae round the hill.

  "Your nether party fire must,
    "Then beat a flying drum;
  "And then they'll think the day's their ain,
    "And frae the trench they'll come.

  "Then, those that are behind them maun
    "Gie shot, baith grit and sma';
  "And so, between your armies twa,
    "Ye may make them to fa'."

  "O were ye ever a soldier?"
    Sir David Lesly said;
  "O yes; I was at Solway flow,
    "Where we were all betray'd.

  "Again I was at curst Dunbar,
    "And was a pris'ner ta'en;
  "And many weary night and day,
    "In prison I hae lien."

  "If ye will lead these men aright,
    "Rewarded shall ye be;
  "But, if that ye a traitor prove,
    "I'll hang thee on a tree."

  "Sir, I will not a traitor prove;
    "Montrose has plundered me;
  "I'll do my best to banish him
    "Away frae this country."

  He halv'd his men in equal parts,
    His purpose to fulfill;
  The one part kept the water side,
    The other gaed round the hill.

  The nether party fired brisk,
    Then turn'd and seem'd to rin;
  And then they a' came frae the trench,
    And cry'd, "the day's our ain!"

  The rest then ran into the trench,
    And loos'd their cannons a':
  And thus, between his armies twa,
    He made them fast to fa'.

  Now, let us a' for Lesly pray,
    And his brave company!
  For they hae vanquish'd great Montrose,
    Our cruel enemy.

[Footnote A: Various reading; "That we should take a dram."]



NOTES ON THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.


_When they came to the Shaw burn._--P. 27. v. 1. A small stream, that
joins the Ettrick, near Selkirk, on the south side of the river.

_When they came to the Lingly burn._--P. 27. v. 2. A brook, which falls
into the Ettrick, from the north, a little above the Shaw burn.

_They spy'd an aged father._--P. 27. v. 2. The traditional commentary
upon the ballad states this man's name to have been Brydone, ancestor to
several families in the parish of Ettrick, particularly those occupying
the farms of Midgehope and Redford Green. It is a strange anachronism,
to make this aged father state himself at the battle of _Solway flow,_
which was fought a hundred years before Philiphaugh; and a still
stranger, to mention that of Dunbar, which did not take place till five
years after Montrose's defeat.

A tradition, annexed to a copy of this ballad, transmitted to me by Mr
James Hogg, bears, that the earl of Traquair, on the day of the battle,
was advancing with a large sum of money, for the payment of Montrose's
forces, attended by a blacksmith, one of his retainers. As they crossed
Minch-moor, they were alarmed by firing, which the earl conceived to
be Montrose exercising his forces, but which his attendant, from the
constancy and irregularity of the noise, affirmed to be the tumult of an
engagement. As they came below Broadmeadows, upon Yarrow, they met their
fugitive friends, hotly pursued by the parliamentary troopers. The earl,
of course, turned, and fled also: but his horse, jaded with the weight
of dollars which he carried, refused to take the hill; so that the earl
was fain to exchange with his attendant, leaving him with the breathless
horse, and bag of silver, to shift for himself; which he is supposed
to have done very effectually. Some of the dragoons, attracted by the
appearance of the horse and trappings, gave chase to the smith, who
fled up the Yarrow; but finding himself as he said, encumbered with the
treasure, and unwilling that it should be taken, he flung it into a
well, or pond, near the Tinnies, above Hangingshaw. Many wells were
afterwards searched in vain; but it is the general belief, that the
smith, if he ever hid the money, knew too well how to anticipate the
scrutiny. There is, however, a pond, which some peasants began to drain,
not long ago, in hopes of finding the golden prize, but were prevented,
as they pretended, by supernatural interference.



THE GALLANT GRAHAMS.


The preceding ballad was a song of triumph over the defeat of Montrose
at Philiphaugh; the verses, which follow are a lamentation for his final
discomfiture and cruel death. The present edition of _"The Gallant
Grahams"_ is given from tradition, enlarged and corrected by an ancient
printed edition, entitled, _"The Gallant Grahams of Scotland"_ to the
tune of _"I will away, and I will not tarry,"_ of which Mr Ritson
favoured the editor with an accurate copy.

The conclusion of Montrose's melancholy history is too well known. The
Scottish army, which sold king Charles I. to his parliament, had, we may
charitably hope, no idea that they were bartering his blood; although
they must have been aware, that they were consigning him to perpetual
bondage.[A] At least the sentiments of the kingdom at large differed
widely from those of the military merchants, and the danger of king
Charles drew into England a well appointed Scottish army, under the
command of the duke of Hamilton. But he met with Cromwell, and to meet
with Cromwell was inevitable defeat. The death of Charles, and the
triumph of the independents, excited still more highly the hatred and
the fears of the Scottish nation. The outwitted presbyterians, who saw,
too late, that their own hands had been employed in the hateful task
of erecting the power of a sect, yet more fierce and fanatical than
themselves, deputed a commission to the Hague, to treat with Charles
II., whom, upon certain conditions they now wished to restore to the
throne of his fathers. At the court of the exiled monarch, Montrose also
offered to his acceptance a splendid plan of victory and conquest, and
pressed for his permission to enter Scotland; and there, collecting the
remains of the royalists to claim the crown for his master, with the
sword in his hand. An able statesman might perhaps have reconciled these
jarring projects; a good man would certainly have made a decided choice
betwixt them. Charles was neither the one not the other; and, while he
treated with the presbyterians, with a view of accepting the crown from
their hands, he scrupled not to authorise Montrose, the mortal enemy of
the sect, to pursue his separate and inconsistent plan of conquest.

[Footnote A: As Salmasius quaintly, but truly, expresses it,
_Presbyterian iligaverunt independantes trucidaverunt_.]

Montrose arrived in the Orkneys with six hundred Germans, was furnished
with some recruits from those islands, and was joined by several
royalists, as he traversed the wilds of Caithness and Sutherland: but,
advancing into Ross-shire, he was surprised, and totally defeated,
by colonel Strachan, an officer of the Scottish parliament, who had
distinguished himself in the civil wars, and who afterwards became a
decided Cromwellian. Montrose, after a fruitless resistance, at length
fled from the field of defeat, and concealed himself in the grounds of
Macleod of Assint to whose fidelity he entrusted his life, and by whom
he was delivered up to Lesly, his most bitter enemy.

He was tried for what was termed treason against the estates of the
kingdom; and, despite the commission of Charles for his proceedings, he
was condemned to die by a parliament, who acknowledged Charles to be
their king, and whom, on that account only, Montrose acknowledged to be
a parliament.

"The clergy," says a late animated historian, "whose vocation it was to
persecute the repose of his last moments, sought, by the terrors of his
sentence, to extort repentance; but his behaviour, firm and dignified to
the end, repelled their insulting advances with scorn and disdain. He
was prouder, he replied, to have his head affixed to the prison-walls,
than to have his picture placed in the king's bed-chamber: 'and, far
from being troubled that my limbs are to be sent to your principal
cities, I wish I had flesh enough to be dispersed through Christendom,
to attest my dying attachment to my king.' It was the calm employment of
his mind, that night, to reduce this extravagant sentiment to verse.
He appeared next day, on the scaffold, in a rich habit, with the same
serene and undaunted countenance, and addressed the people, to vindicate
his dying unabsolved by the church, rather than to justify an invasion
of the kingdom, during a treaty with the estates. The insults of his
enemies were not yet exhausted. The history of his exploits was attached
to his neck by the public executioner: but he smiled at their inventive
malice; declared, that he wore it with more pride than he had done the
garter; and, when his devotions were finished, demanding if any more
indignities remained to be practised, submitted calmly to an unmerited
fate."--_Laing's History of Scotland,_ Vol. I. p. 404.

Such was the death of James Graham, the great marquis of Montrose, over
whom some lowly bard has poured forth the following elegiac verses. To
say, that they are far unworthy of the subject, is no great reproach;
for a nobler poet might have failed in the attempt. Indifferent as the
ballad is, we may regret its being still more degraded by many apparent
corruptions. There seems an attempt to trace Montrose's career, from his
first raising the royal standard, to his second expedition and death;
but it is interrupted and imperfect. From the concluding stanza, I
presume the song was composed upon the arrival of Charles in Scotland,
which so speedily followed the execution of Montrose, that the king
entered the city while the head of his most faithful and most successful
adherent was still blackening in the sun.



THE GALLANT GRAHAMS.


  Now, fare thee weel, sweet Ennerdale!
    Baith kith and countrie I bid adieu;
  For I maun away, and I may not stay,
    To some uncouth land which I never knew.

  To wear the blue I think it best,
    Of all the colours that I see;
  And I'll wear it for the gallant Grahams,
    That are banished from their countrie.

  I have no gold, I have no land,
    I have no pearl, nor precious stane;
  But I wald sell my silken snood,
    To see the gallant Grahams come hame.

  In Wallace days when they began,
    Sir John the Graham did bear the gree,
  Through all the lands of Scotland wide;
    He was a lord of the south countrie.

  And so was seen full many a time;
    For the summer flowers did never spring,
  But every Graham, in armour bright,
    Would then appear before the king.

  They all were dressed in armour sheen,
    Upon the pleasant banks of Tay;
  Before a king they might be seen,
    These gallant Grahams in their array.

  At the Goukhead our camp we set,
    Our leaguer down there for to lay;
  And, in the bonnie summer light,
    We rode our white horse and our gray.

  Our false commander sold our king
    Unto his deadly enemie,
  Who was the traitor Cromwell, then;
    So I care not what they do with me.

  They have betrayed our noble prince,
    And banish'd him from his royal crown;
  But the gallant Grahams have ta'en in hand,
    For to command those traitors down.

  In Glen-Prosen[A] we rendezvoused,
    March'd to Glenshie by night and day,
  And took the town of Aberdeen,
    And met the Campbells in their array.

  Five thousand men, in armour strong.
    Did meet the gallant Grahams that day
  At Inverlochie, where war began,
    And scarce two thousand men were they.

  Gallant Montrose, that chieftain bold,
    Courageous in the best degree,
  Did for the king fight well that day;
    The lord preserve his majestie!

  Nathaniel Gordon, stout and bold,
    Did for king Charles wear the blue;
  But the cavaliers they all were sold,
    And brave Harthill, a cavalier too.

  And Newton Gordon, burd-alone
    And Dalgatie, both stout and keen,
  And gallant Veitch upon the field,
    A braver face was never seen.

  Now, fare ye weel, sweet Ennerdale!
    Countrie and kin I quit ye free;
  Chear up your hearts, brave cavaliers,
    For the Grahams are gone to high Germany.

  Now brave Montrose he went to France,
    And to Germany, to gather fame;
  And bold Aboyne is to the sea,
    Young Huntly is his noble name.

  Montrose again, that chieftain bold,
    Back unto Scotland fair he came,
  For to redeem fair Scotland's land,
    The pleasant, gallant, worthy Graham!

  At the water of Carron he did begin,
    And fought the battle to the end;
  Where there were killed, for our noble king,
    Two thousand of our Danish men.

  Gilbert Menzies, of high degree,
    By whom the king's banner was borne;
  For a brave cavalier was he,
    But now to glory he is gone.

  Then woe to Strachan, and Hacket baith!
    And, Lesly, ill death may thou die!
  For ye have betrayed the gallant Grahams,
    Who aye were true to majestic.

  And the laird of Assint has seized Montrose,
    And had him into Edinburgh town;
  And frae his body taken the head,
    And quartered him upon a trone.

  And Huntly's gone the selfsame way,
    And our noble king is also gone;
  He suffered death for our nation,
    Our mourning tears can ne'er be done.

  But our brave young king is now come home,
    King Charles the second in degree;
  The Lord send peace into his time,
    And God preserve his majestie!

[Footnote A: Glen-Prosen, in Angus-shire.]



NOTES ON THE GALLANT GRAHAMS.


_Now, fare thee weel, sweet Ennerdale._--P. 38. v. 1. A corruption of
Endrickdale. The principal, and most ancient possessions of the Montrose
family lie along the water of Endrick, in Dumbartonshire.

_Sir John the Graham did bear the gree._--P. 39. v. 1. The faithful
friend and adherent of the immortal Wallace, slain at the battle of
Falkirk.

_Who was the traitor Cromwell, then._--P. 39. v. 5. This extraordinary
character, to whom, in crimes and in success our days only have produced
a parallel, was no favourite in Scotland. There occurs the following
invective against him, in a MS. in the Advocates' Library. The humour
consists in the dialect of a Highlander, speaking English, and confusing
_Cromwell_ with _Gramach,_ ugly:

  Te commonwelt, tat Gramagh ting.
  Gar brek hem's word, gar do hem's king;

  Gar pay hem's sesse, or take hem's (geers)
  We'l no de at, del come de leers;
  We'l bide a file amang te crowes, (_i.e._ in the woods)
  We'l scor te sword, and wiske to bowes;
  And fen her nen-sel se te re, (the king)
  Te del my care for _Gromaghee_.

The following tradition, concerning Cromwell, is preserved by an
uncommonly direct line of traditional evidence; being narrated (as I am
informed) by the grandson of an eye-witness. When Cromwell, in 1650,
entered Glasgow, he attended divine service in the High Church; but the
presbyterian divine, who officiated, poured forth, with more zeal than
prudence, the vial of his indignation upon the person, principles, and
cause, of the independent general. One of Cromwell's officers rose,
and whispered his commander; who seemed to give him a short and stern
answer, and the sermon was concluded without interruption Among the
crowd, who were assembled to gaze at the general, as he came out of the
church, was a shoemaker, the son of one of James the sixth's Scottish
footmen. This man had been born and bred in England, but, after his
father's death, had settled in Glasgow. Cromwell eyed him among the
crowd, and immediately called him by his name--the man fled; but, at
Cromwell's command, one of his retinue followed him, and brought him
to the general's lodgings. A number of the inhabitants remained at the
door, waiting the end of this extraordinary scene. The shoemaker soon
came out, in high spirits, and, shewing some gold, declared, he was
going to drink Cromwell's health. Many attended him to hear the
particulars of his interview; among others, the grandfather of the
narrator. The shoemaker said, that he had been a playfellow of Cromwell
when they were both boys, their parents residing in the same street;
that he had fled, when the general first called to him, thinking he
might owe him some ill-will, on account of his father being in the
service of the royal family. He added, that Cromwell had been so very
kind and familiar with him, that he ventured to ask him, what the
officer had said to him in the church. "He proposed," said Cromwell, "to
pull forth the "minister by the ears; and I answered, that the preacher
was "one fool, and he another." In the course of the day, Cromwell held
an interview with the minister, and contrived to satisfy his scruples so
effectually, that the evening discourse, by the same man, was tuned to
the praise and glory of the victor of Naseby.

  _Nathaniel Gordon, stout and bold,
    Did for King Charles wear the, blue._--P. 40. v. 5.

This gentleman was of the ancient family of Gordon of Gight. He had
served, as a soldier, upon the continent, and acquired great military
skill. When his chief, the marquis of Huntly, took up arms in 1640,
Nathaniel Gordon, then called Major Gordon, joined him, and was of
essential service during that short insurrection. But, being checked
for making prize of a Danish fishing buss, he left the service of the
marquis, in some disgust. In 1644, he assisted at a sharp and dexterous
_camisade_ (as it was then called), when the barons of Haddo, of Gight,
of Drum, and other gentlemen, with only sixty men under their standard,
galloped through the old town of Aberdeen, and, entering the burgh
itself, about seven in the morning, made prisoners, and carried off,
four of the covenanting magistrates and effected a safe retreat, though
the town was then under the domination of the opposite party. After the
death of the baron of Haddo, and the severe treatment of Sir George
Gordon of Gight, his cousin-german, Major Nathaniel Gordon seems to have
taken arms, in despair of finding mercy at the covenanters' hands. On
the 24th of July, 1645, he came down, with a band of horsemen, upon the
town of Elgin, while St James' fair was held, and pillaged the merchants
of 14,000 merks of money and merchandize.[A] He seems to have joined
Montrose, as soon as he raised the royal standard; and, as a bold and
active partizan, rendered him great service. But, in November 1644,
Gordon, now a colonel, suddenly deserted Montrose, aided the escape of
Forbes of Craigievar, one of his prisoners, and reconciled himself to
the kirk, by doing penance for adultery, and for the almost equally
heinous crime of having scared Mr Andrew Cant,[B] the famous apostle of
the covenant. This, however, seems to have been an artifice, to arrange
a correspondence betwixt Montrose and Lord Gordon, a gallant young
nobleman, representative of the Huntley family, and inheriting their
loyal spirit, though hitherto engaged in the service of the covenant.
Colonel Gordon was successful, and returned to the royal camp with his
converted chief. Both followed zealously the fortunes of Montrose, until
Lord Gordon fell in the battle of Alford, and Nathaniel Gordon was taken
at Philiphaugh. He was one of ten loyalists, devoted upon that occasion,
by the parliament, to expiate, with their blood, the crime of fidelity
to their king. Nevertheless, the covenanted nobles would have probably
been satisfied with the death of the gallant Rollock, sharer of
Montrose's dangers and glory, of Ogilvy, a youth of eighteen, whose
crime was the hereditary feud betwixt his family and Argyle, and of Sir
Philip Nisbet, a cavalier of the ancient stamp, had not the pulpits
resounded with the cry, that God required the blood of the malignants,
to expiate the sins of the people. "What meaneth," exclaimed the
ministers, in the perverted language of scripture--"What meaneth, then,
this bleating of the sheep in my ears, and the lowing of the oxen?" The
appeal to the judgment of Samuel was decisive, and the shambles were
instantly opened. Nathaniel Gordon was brought first to execution. He
lamented the sins of his youth, once more (and probably with greater
sincerity) requested absolution from the sentence of excommunication
pronounced on account of adultery, and was beheaded 6th January 1646.

[Footnote A: Spalding, Vol. II. pp. 151, 154, 169, 181, 221. _History of
the Family of Gordon,_ Edin. 1727, Vol. II. p. 299.]

[Footnote B: He had sent him a letter, which nigh frightened him out of
his wits.--SPALDING, Vol. II. p. 231.]

  _And brave Harthill, a cavalier too._--P. 40, v. 5.

Leith, of Harthill, was a determined loyalist, and hated the
covenanters, not without reason. His father, a haughty high-spirited
baron, and chief of a clan, happened, in 1639, to sit down in the desk
of provost Lesly, in the high kirk of Aberdeen He was disgracefully
thrust out by the officers, and, using some threatening language to the
provost, was imprisoned, like a felon, for many months, till he became
furious, and nearly mad. Having got free of the shackles, with which he
was loaded, he used his liberty by coming to the tolbooth window where
he uttered the most violent and horrible threats against Provost Lesly,
and the other covenanting magistrates, by whom he had been so severely
treated. Under pretence of this new offence, he was sent to Edinburgh,
and lay long in prison there; for, so fierce was his temper, that no one
would give surety for his keeping the peace with his enemies, if set at
liberty. At length he was delivered by Montrose, when he made himself
master of Edinburgh.--SPALDING, Vol. I. pp. 201; 266. His house of
Harthill was dismantled, and miserably pillaged by Forbes of
Craigievar, who expelled his wife and children with the most relentless
inhumanity.--_Ibid._ Vol. II. p. 225. Meanwhile, young Harthill was the
companion and associate of Nathaniel Gordon, whom he accompanied at
plundering the fair of Elgin, and at most of Montrose's engagements. He
retaliated severely on the covenanters, by ravaging and burning their
lands. _Ibid._ Vol. II. p. 301. His fate has escaped my notice.

  _And Dalgatie, both stout and keen._--P. 41. v. 1.

Sir Francis Hay, of Dalgatie, a steady cavalier, and a gentleman of
great gallantry and accomplishment. He was a faithful follower of
Montrose, and was taken prisoner with him at his last fatal battle. He
was condemned to death, with his illustrious general. Being a Roman
catholic, he refused the assistance of the presbyterian clergy, and was
not permitted, even on the scaffold, to receive ghostly comfort, in the
only form in which his religion taught him to consider it as effectual.
He kissed the axe, avowed his fidelity to his sovereign, and died like a
soldier.--_Montrose's Memoirs,_ p. 322.

  _And Newton Gordon, burd-alone._--P. 41. v. 1.

Newton, for obvious reasons, was a common appellation of an estate, or
barony, where a new edifice had been erected. Hence, for distinction's
sake, it was anciently compounded with the name of the proprietor;
as, Newtown-Edmonstone, Newtown-Don, Newtown-Gordon, &c. Of Gordon
of Newtown, I only observe, that he was, like all his clan, a steady
loyalist, and a follower of Montrose.

  _And gallant Veitch, upon the field._--P. 41. v. 1.

I presume this gentleman to have been David Veitch, brother to Veitch of
Dawick, who, with many other of the Peebles-shire gentry, was taken
at Philiphaugh. The following curious accident took place, some years
afterwards, in consequence of his loyal zeal.

"In the year 1653, when the loyal party did arise in arms against the
English, in the North and West Highlands, some noblemen and loyal
gentlemen, with others, were forward to repair to them, with such forces
as they could make; which the English, with marvelouse diligence, night
and day, did bestir themselves to impede; making their troops of horse
and dragoons to pursue the loyal party in all places, that they might
not come to such a considerable number as was designed. It happened, one
night, that one Captain Masoun, commander of a troop of dragoons, that
came from Carlisle, in England, marching through the town of Sanquhar,
in the night, was encountered by one captain Palmer, commanding a troop
of horse, that came from Ayr, marching eastward; and, meeting at the
tollhouse, or tolbooth, one David Veitch, brother to the laird of
Dawick, in Tweeddale, and one of the loyal party, being prisoner in
irons by the English, did arise, and came to the window at their
meeting, and cryed out, that they should _fight valiantly for King
Charles_, Where-through, they, taking each other for the loyal party,
did begin a brisk fight, which continued for a while, til the dragoons,
having spent their shot, and finding the horsemen to be too strong for
them, did give ground; but yet retired, in some order, towards the
castle of Sanquhar, being hotly pursued by the troop, through the whole
town, above a quarter of a mile, till they came to the castle; where
both parties did, to their mutual grief, become sensible of their
mistake. In this skirmish there were several killed on both sides, and
Captain Palmer himself dangerously wounded, with many mo wounded in each
troop, who did peaceably dwell together afterward for a time, untill
their wounds were cured, in Sanquhar castle."--_Account of Presbytery of
Penpont, in Macfarlane's MSS._

  _And bold Aboyne is to the sea,
    Young Huntly is his noble name._--P. 41. v. 3.

James, earl of Aboyne, who fled to France, and there died heart-broken.
It is said, his death was accelerated by the news of King Charles'
execution. He became representative of the Gordon family, or _Young
Huntly_, as the ballad expresses it, in consequence of the death of his
elder brother, George, who fell in the battle of Alford.--_History of
Gordon Family._

  _Two thousand of our Danish men._--P. 41. v. 5.

Montrose's foreign auxiliaries, who, by the way, did not exceed 600 in
all.

  _Gilbert Menzies, of high degree,
    By whom the king's banner was borne._--P. 42. v. 1.

Gilbert Menzies, younger of Pitfoddells, carried the royal banner in
Montrose's last battle. It bore the headless corpse of Charles I., with
this motto, _"Judge and revenge my cause, O Lord!"_ Menzies proved
himself worthy of this noble trust, and, obstinately refusing quarter,
died in defence of his charge. _Montrose's Memoirs_.

  _Then woe to Strachan, and Hacket baith._--P. 42. v. 2.

Sir Charles Hacket, an officer in the service of the estates.

  _And Huntly's gone, the self-same way._--P. 42. v. 4.

George Gordon, second marquis of Huntley, one of the very few nobles in
Scotland, who had uniformly adhered to the king from the very beginning
of the troubles, was beheaded by the sentence of the parliament of
Scotland (so calling themselves), upon the 22d March, 1649, one month
and twenty-two days after the martyrdom of his master. He has been much
blamed for not cordially co-operating with Montrose; and Bishop Wishart,
in the zeal of partiality for his hero, accuses Huntley of direct
treachery. But he is a true believer, who seals, with his blood, his
creed, religious or political; and there are many reasons, short of this
foul charge, which may have dictated the backward conduct of Huntley
towards Montrose. He could not forget, that, when he first stood out for
the king, Montrose, then the soldier of the covenant, had actually made
him prisoner: and we cannot suppose Huntley to have been so sensible of
Montrose's superior military talents, as not to think himself, as equal
in rank, superior in power, and more uniform in loyalty entitled to
equally high marks of royal trust and favour. This much is certain, that
the gallant clan of Gordon contributed greatly to Montrose's success;
for the gentlemen of that name, with the brave and loyal Ogilvies,
composed the principal part of his cavalry.



THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.


We have observed the early antipathy, mutually entertained by the
Scottish presbyterians and the house of Stuart It seems to have glowed
in the breast even of the good-natured Charles II. He might have
remembered, that, in 1551, the presbyterians had fought, bled, and
ruined themselves in his cause. But he rather recollected their early
faults than their late repentance; and even their services were combined
with the recollection of the absurd and humiliating circumstances of
personal degradation,[A] to which their pride and folly had subjected
him, while they professed to espouse his cause. As a man of pleasure, he
hated their stern and inflexible rigour, which stigmatised follies
even more deeply than crimes; and he whispered to his confidents, that
"presbytery was no religion for a gentleman." It is not, therefore,
wonderful, that, in the first year of his restoration, he formally
reestablished prelacy in Scotland; but it is surprising, that, with his
father's example before his eyes, he should not have been satisfied
to leave at freedom the consciences of those who could not reconcile
themselves to the new system. The religious opinions of sectaries have a
tendency like the water of some springs, to become soft and mild, when
freely exposed to the open day. Who can recognise in the decent and
industrious quakers, and ana-baptists the wild and ferocious tenets
which distinguished their sects, while they were yet honoured with the
distinction of the scourge and the pillory? Had the system of coercion
against the presbyterians been continued until our day, Blair and
Robertson would have preached in the wilderness, and only discovered
their powers of eloquence and composition, by rolling along a deeper
torrent of gloomy fanaticism.

[Footnote A: Among other ridiculous occurrences, it is said, that some
of Charles's gallantries were discovered by a prying neighbour. A wily
old minister was deputed, by his brethren, to rebuke the king for this
heinous scandal. Being introduced into the royal presence he limited
his commission to a serious admonition, that, upon such occasions,
his majesty should always shut the windows.--The king is said to have
recompensed this unexpected lenity after the Restoration. He probably
remembered the joke, though he might have forgotten the service.]

The western counties distinguished themselves by their opposition to the
prelatic system. Three hundred and fifty ministers, ejected from their
churches and livings, wandered through the mountains, sowing the seeds
of covenanted doctrine, while multitudes of fanatical followers pursued
them, to reap the forbidden crop. These conventicles as they were
called, were denounced by the law, and their frequenters dispersed by
military force. The genius of the persecuted became stubborn, obstinate,
and ferocious; and, although indulgencies were tardily granted to some
presbyterian ministers, few of the true covenanters or whigs, as they
were called, would condescend to compound with a prelatic government, or
to listen even to their own favourite doctrine under the auspices of the
king. From Richard Cameron, their apostle, this rigid sect acquired the
name of Cameronians. They preached and prayed against the indulgence,
and against the presbyterians who availed themselves of it, because
their accepting this royal boon was a tacit acknowledgment of the king's
supremacy in ecclesiastical matters. Upon these bigotted and persecuted
fanatics, and by no means upon the presbyterians at large, are to
be charged the wild anarchical principles of anti-monarchy and
assassination which polluted the period when they flourished.

The insurrection, commemorated and magnified in the following ballad, as
indeed it has been in some histories, was, in itself, no very important
affair. It began in Dumfries-shire where Sir James Turner, a soldier
of fortune, was employed to levy the arbitrary fines imposed for not
attending the episcopal churches. The people rose, seized his person,
disarmed his soldiers, and having continued together, resolved to march
towards Edinburgh, expecting to be joined by their friends in that
quarter. In this they were disappointed; and, being now diminished to
half their numbers, they drew up on the Pentland Hills, at a place
called Rullien Green. They were commanded by one Wallace; and here they
awaited the approach of General Dalziel, of Binns; who, having marched
to Calder, to meet them on the Lanark road, and finding, that, by
passing through Collington, they had got to the other side of the hills,
cut through the mountains, and approached them. Wallace shewed both
spirit and judgment: he drew his men up in a very strong situation, and
withstood two charges of Dalziel's cavalry; but, upon the third shock,
the insurgents were broken, and utterly dispersed. There was very little
slaughter, as the cavalry of Dalziel were chiefly gentlemen, who pitied
their oppressed and misguided countrymen. There were about fifty killed,
and as many made prisoners. The battle was fought on the 28th November,
1666; a day still observed by the scattered remnant of the Cameronian
sect, who regularly hear a field-preaching upon the field of battle.

I am obliged for a copy of the ballad to Mr Livingston of Airds, who
took it down from the recitation of an old woman residing on his estate.

The gallant Grahams, mentioned in the text, are Graham of Claverhouse's
horse.



THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.


_This Ballad is copied verbatim from the Old Woman's recitation._


  The gallant Grahams cum from the west,
  Wi' their horses black as ony craw;
  The Lothian lads they marched fast,
  To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa.

  Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle,
  The lads they marched mony a mile;
  Souters and taylors unto them drew,
  Their covenants for to renew.

  The whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks,
  Gard the poor pedlars lay down their packs;
  But aye sinsyne they do repent
  The renewing o' their covenant.

  A the Mauchline muir, where they were reviewed,
  Ten thousand men in armour shewed;
  But, ere they cam to the Brockie's burn,
  The half o' them did back return.

  General Dalyell, as I hear tell,
  Was our lieutenant general;
  And captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill,
  Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill.

  General Dalyell held to the hill,
  Asking at them what was their will;
  And who gave them this protestation,
  To rise in arms against the nation?

  "Although we all in armour be,
  It's not against his majesty;
  Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid,
  But wi' the country we'll conclude."

  "Lay down your arms, in the king's name,
  And ye shall all gae safely hame;"
  But they a' cried out, wi' ae consent,
  "We'll fight a broken covenant."

  "O well," says he, "since it is so,
  A willfu' man never wanted woe;"
  He then gave a sign unto his lads,
  And they drew up in their brigades.

  The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,
  And every man to his armour drew;
  The whigs were never so much aghast,
  As to see their saddles toom sae fast.

  The cleverest men stood in the van,
  The whigs they took their heels and ran;
  But such a raking was never seen,
  As the raking o' the Rullien Green.



THE BATTLE OF LOUDONHILL.


The whigs, now become desperate, adopted the most desperate principles;
and retaliating, as far as they could, the intolerating persecution
which they endured, they openly disclaimed allegiance to any monarch
who should not profess presbytery, and subscribe the covenant.--These
principles were not likely to conciliate the favour of government; and
as we wade onward in the history of the times, the scenes become yet
darker. At length, one would imagine the parties had agreed to divide
the kingdom of vice betwixt them; the hunters assuming to themselves
open profligacy and legalized oppression; and the hunted, the opposite
attributes of hypocrisy, fanaticism, disloyalty, and midnight
assassination. The troopers and cavaliers became enthusiasts in the
pursuit of the covenanters If Messrs Kid, King, Cameron, Peden, &c.
boasted of prophetic powers, and were often warned of the approach of
the soldiers, by supernatural impulse,[A] captain John Creichton, on
the other side, dreamed dreams, and saw visions (chiefly, indeed, after
having drunk hard), in which the lurking holes of the rebels were
discovered to his imagination.[B] Our ears are scarcely more shocked
with the profane execrations of the persecutors,[C] than with the
strange and insolent familiarity used towards the Deity by the
persecuted fanatics. Their indecent modes of prayer, their extravagant
expectations of miraculous assistance, and their supposed inspirations,
might easily furnish out a tale, at which the good would sigh, and the
gay would laugh.

[Footnote A: In the year 1684, Peden, one of the Cameronian preachers,
about ten o'clock at night, sitting at the fire-side, started up to his
feet, and said, "Flee, auld Sandie (thus he designed himself), and hide
yourself! for colonel----is coming to this house to apprehend you; and
I advise you all to do the like, for he will be here within an hour;"
which came to pass: and when they had made a very narrow search, within
and without the house, and went round the thorn-bush, under which he was
lying praying, they went off without their prey. He came in, and said,
"And has this gentleman (designed by his name) given poor Sandie, and
thir poor things, such a fright? For this night's work, God shall give
him such a blow, within a few days, that all the physicians on earth
shall not be able to cure;" which came to pass, for he died in great
misery.--_Life of Alexander Peden._]

[Footnote B: See the life of this booted apostle of prelacy, written by
Swift, who had collected all his anecdotes of persecution, and appears
to have enjoyed them accordingly.]

[Footnote C: "They raved," says Peden's historian, "like fleshly devils,
when the mist shrouded from their pursuit the wandering whigs." One
gentleman closed a declaration of vengeance against the conventiclers
with this strange imprecation, "Or may the devil make my ribs a gridiron
to my soul!"--MS. _Account of the Presbytery of Penpont._ Our armies
swore terribly in Flanders, but nothing to this!]

In truth, extremes always approach each other; and the superstition of
the Roman catholics was, in some degree, revived, even by their most
deadly enemies. They are ridiculed by the cavaliers, as wearing the
relics of their saints by way of amulet:--

  "She shewed to me a box, wherein lay hid
  The pictures of Cargil and Mr Kid;
  A splinter of the tree, on which they were slain;
  A double inch of Major Weir's best cane;
  Rathillet's sword, beat down to table-knife,
  Which took at Magus' Muir a bishop's life;
  The worthy Welch's spectacles, who saw,
  That windle-straws would fight against the law;
  They, windle-straws, were stoutest of the two,
  They kept their ground, away the prophet flew;
  And lists of all the prophets' names were seen
  At Pentland Hills, Aird-Moss, and Rullen Green.
    "Don't think," she says, "these holy things are foppery;
  They're precious antidotes against the power of popery."
      _The Cameronian Tooth.--Pennycuick's Poems,_ p. 110.

The militia and standing army soon became unequal to the task of
enforcing conformity, and suppressing conventicles In, their aid, and to
force compliance with a test proposed by government, the Highland
clans were raised, and poured down into Ayrshire.[A] An armed host
of undisciplined mountaineers, speaking a different language, and
professing, many of them, another religion, were let loose, to ravage
and plunder this unfortunate country; and it is truly astonishing to
find how few acts of cruelty they perpetrated, and how seldom they added
murder to pillage[B] Additional levies of horse were also raised, under
the name of Independent Troops, and great part of them placed under the
command of James Grahame of Claverhouse a man well known to fame, by
his subsequent title of viscount Dundee, but better remembered, in the
western shires, under the designation of the bloody Clavers. In truth,
he appears to have combined the virtues and vices of a savage chief.
Fierce, unbending, and rigorous, no emotion of compassion prevented his
commanding, and witnessing, every detail of military execution against
the non-conformists. Undauntedly brave, and steadily faithful to his
prince, he sacrificed himself in the cause of James, when he was
deserted by all the world. If we add, to these attributes, a goodly
person, complete skill in martial exercises, and that ready and decisive
character, so essential to a commander, we may form some idea of this
extraordinary character. The whigs, whom he persecuted daunted by his
ferocity and courage, conceived him to be impassive to their bullets,[C]
and that he had sold himself, for temporal greatness, to the
seducer of mankind. It is still believed, that a cup of wine,
presented to him by his butler, changed into clotted blood; and
that, when he plunged his feet into cold water, their touch
caused it to boil. The steed, which bore him, was supposed
to be the gift of Satan; and precipices are shewn, where a fox could
hardly keep his feet, down which the infernal charger conveyed him
safely, in pursuit of the wanderers. It is remembered, with terror, that
Claverhouse was successful in every engagement with the whigs, except
that at Drumclog, or Loudon-hill, which is the subject of the following
ballad. The history of Burly, the hero of the piece, will bring us
immediately to the causes and circumstances of that event.

[Footnote A: Peden complained heavily, that, after a heavy struggle with
the devil, he had got above him, _spur-galled_ him hard, and obtained a
wind to carry him from Ireland to Scotland, when, behold! another person
had set sail, and reaped the advantage of his _prayer-wind,_ before he
could embark.]

[Footnote B: Cleland thus describes this extraordinary army:

  --Those, who were their chief commanders,
  As sach who bore the pirnie standarts.
  Who led the van, and drove the rear,
  Were right well mounted of their gear;
  With brogues, and trews, and pirnie plaids,
  With good blue bonnets on their heads,
  Which, oil the one side, had a flipe,
  Adorn'd with a tobacco pipe,
  With durk, and snap-work, and snuff-mill,
  A bag which they with onions fill;
  And, as their strict observers say,
  A tup-born filled with usquebay;
  A slasht out coat beneath her plaides,
  A targe of timber, nails, and hides;
  With a long two-handed sword,
  As good's the country can afford.
  Had they not need of bulk-and bones.
  Who fought with all these arms at once?

         *       *       *       *

  Of moral honestie they're clean,
  Nought like religion they retain;
  In nothing they're accounted sharp,
  Except in bag-pipe, and in harp;
  For a misobliging word,
  She'll durk her neighbour o'er the boord,
  And then she'll flee like fire from flint,
  She'll scarcely ward the second dint;
  If any ask her of her thrift.
  Forsooth her nainsell lives by thift.
    _Cleland's Poems,_ Edin. 1697, p. 12.
]

[Footnote C: It was, and is believed, that the devil furnished his
favourites, among the persecutors, with what is called _proof_
against leaden bullets, but against those only. During the battle of
Pentland-hills Paton of Meadowhead conceived he saw the balls hop
harmlessly down from General Dalziel's boots, and, to counteract the
spell, loaded his pistol with a piece of silver coin. But Dalziel,
having his eye on him, drew back behind his servant, who was shot
dead.--_Paton's Life._ At a skirmish, in Ayrshire, some of the wanderers
defended themselves in a sequestered house, by the side of a lake. They
aimed repeatedly, but in vain, at the commander of the assailants, an
English officer, until, their ammunition running short, one of them
loaded his piece with the ball at the head of the tongs, and succeeded
in shooting the hitherto impenetrable captain. To accommodate Dundee's
fate to their own hypothesis, the Cameronian tradition runs, that, in
the battle of Killicrankie, he fell, not by the enemy's fire, but by the
pistol of one of his own servants, who, to avoid the spell, had loaded
it with a silver button from his coat. One of their writers argues thus:
"Perhaps, some may think this, anent proof-shot, a paradox, and be ready
to object here, as formerly concerning Bishop Sharpe and Dalziel--How
can the devil have, or give, power to save life? Without entering upon
the thing in its reality, I shall only observe, 1. That it is neither
in his power, or of his nature, to be a saviour of men's lives; he is
called Apollyon, the destroyer. 2. That, even in this case, he is said
only to give enchantment against one kind of metal, and this does not
save life: for, though lead could not take Sharpe and Claverhouse's
lives, yet steel and silver could do it; and, for Dalziel, though
he died not on the field, yet he did not escape the arrows of the
Almighty."--_God's Judgement against Persecutors._ If the reader be not
now convinced of _the thing in its reality_, I have nothing to add to
such exquisite reasoning.]

John Balfour of Kinloch, commonly called Burly, was one of the fiercest
of the proscribed sect. A gentleman by birth, he was, says his
biographer, "zealous and honest-hearted, courageous in every enterprise,
and a brave soldier, seldom any escaping that came in his hands." _Life
of John Balfour._ Creichton says, that he was once chamberlain to
Archbishop Sharpe, and, by negligence, or dishonesty, had incurred
a large arrear, which occasioned his being active in his master's
assassination. But of this I know no other evidence than Creichton's
assertion, and a hint in Wodrow. Burly, for that is his most common
designation, was brother-in-law to Hackston of Rathillet a wild
enthusiastic character, who joined daring courage, and skill in the
sword, to the fiery zeal of his sect. Burly, himself, was less eminent
for religious fervour than for the active and violent share which he had
in the most desperate enterprises of his party. His name does not appear
among the covenanters, who were denounced for the affair of Pentland.
But, in 1677, Robert Hamilton, afterwards commander of the insurgents at
Loudon Hill, and Bothwell Bridge, with several other non-conformists,
were assembled at this Burly's house, in Fife. There they were attacked
by a party of soldiers, commanded by Captain Carstairs, whom they beat
off, wounding desperately one of his party. For this resistance to
authority, they were declared rebels. The next exploit, in which Burly
was engaged, was of a bloodier complexion, and more dreadful celebrity.
It is well known, that James Sharpe, archbishop of St Andrews, was
regarded, by the rigid presbyterians, not only as a renegade, who had
turned back from the spiritual plough, but as the principal author of
the rigours exercised against their sect. He employed, as an agent of
his oppression, one Carmichael, a decayed gentleman. The industry
of this man, in procuring information, and in enforcing the severe
penalties against conventiclers, having excited the resentment of
the Cameronians, nine of their number, of whom Burly, and his
brother-in-law, Hackston, were the leaders, assembled, with the purpose
of way-laying and murdering Carmichael; but, while they searched for him
in vain, they received tidings that the archbishop himself was at hand.
The party resorted to prayer; after which, they agreed, unanimously,
that the Lord had delivered the wicked Haman into their hand. In the
execution of the supposed will of heaven, they agreed to put themselves
under the command of a leader; and they requested Hackston of Rathillet
to accept the office, which he declined alleging, that, should he comply
with their request, the slaughter might be imputed to a private quarrel,
which existed betwixt him and the archbishop. The command was then
offered to Burly, who accepted it without scruple; and they galloped off
in pursuit of the archbishop's carriage, which contained himself and
his daughter. Being well mounted, they easily overtook and disarmed the
prelate's attendants. Burly, crying out, "Judas, be taken!" rode up to
the carriage, wounded the postillion and ham-strung one of the horses.
He then fired into the coach a piece, charged with several bullets, so
near, that the archbishop's gown was set on fire. The rest, coming up,
dismounted, and dragged him out of the carriage, when, frightened and
wounded, he crawled towards Hackston, who still remained on horseback,
and begged for mercy. The stern enthusiast contented himself with
answering, that he would not himself _lay a hand on him_. Burly and his
men again fired a volley upon the kneeling old man; and were in the act
of riding off, when one, who remained to girth his horse, unfortunately
heard the daughter of their victim call to the servant for help,
exclaiming, that his master was still alive. Burly then again
dismounted, struck off the prelate's hat with his foot, and split his
skull with his shable (broad sword), although one of the party (probably
Rathillet) exclaimed, "_Spare these grey hairs_!"[A] The rest pierced
him with repeated wounds. They plundered the carriage, and rode off,
leaving, beside the mangled corpse, the daughter, who was herself
wounded, in her pious endeavour to interpose betwixt her father and his
murderers. The murder is accurately represented, in bas-relief, upon a
beautiful monument erected to the memory of Archbishop Sharpe, in the
metropolitan church of St Andrews. This memorable example of fanatic
revenge was acted upon Magus Muir, near St Andrews, 3d May, 1679.[B]

[Footnote A: They believed Sharpe to be proof against shot; for one of
the murderers told Wodrow, that, at the sight of cold iron, his courage
fell. They no longer doubted this, when they found in his pocket a small
clue of silk, rolled round a bit of parchment, marked with two long
words, in Hebrew or Chaldaic characters. Accordingly, it is still
averred, that the balls only left blue marks on the prelate's neck and
breast, although the discharge was so near as to burn his clothes.]

[Footnote B: The question, whether the bishop of St Andrews' death was
murder was a shibboleth, or _experimentum crucis_, frequently put to the
apprehended conventiclers. Isabel Alison, executed at Edinburgh, 26th
January, 1681, was interrogated, before the privy council, if she
conversed with David Hackston? "I answered, I did converse with him, and
I bless the Lord that ever I saw him; for I never saw ought in him but
a godly pious youth. They asked, if the killing of the bishop of St
Andrews was a pious act? I answered, I never heard him say he killed
him; but, if God moved any, and put it upon them, to execute his
righteous judgment upon him, I have nothing to say to that. They asked
me, when saw ye John Balfour (Burly), that pious youth? I answered,
I have seen him. They asked, when? I answered, these are frivolous
questions; I am not bound to answer them." _Cloud of Witnesses_, p. 85.]

Burly was, of course, obliged to leave Fife; and, upon the 25th of the
same month, he arrived in Evandale, in Lanarkshire, along with Hackston,
and a fellow, called Dingwall, or Daniel, one of the same bloody band.
Here he joined his old friend Hamilton, already mentioned; and, as they
resolved to take up arms, they were soon at the head of such a body of
the "chased and tossed western men," as they thought equal to keep the
field. They resolved to commence their exploits upon the 29th of May,
1679, being the anniversary of the Restoration, appointed to be kept as
a holiday, by act of parliament; an institution which they esteemed a
presumptuous and unholy solemnity. Accordingly, at the head of eighty
horse, tolerably appointed, Hamilton, Burly, and Hackston, entered the
royal burgh of Rutherglen, extinguished the bonfires, made in honour
of the day; burned at the cross the acts of parliament in favour of
prelacy, and for suppression of conventicles, as well as those acts
of council, which regulated the indulgence granted to presbyterians.
Against all these acts they entered their solemn protest, or testimony,
as they called it; and, having affixed it to the cross, concluded with
prayer and psalms. Being now joined by a large body of foot, so that
their strength seems to have amounted to five or six hundred men, though
very indifferently armed, they encamped upon Loudoun Hill. Claverhouse,
who was in garrison at Glasgow, instantly marched against the
insurgents, at the head of his own troop of cavalry and others,
amounting to about one hundred and fifty men. He arrived at Hamilton,
on the 1st of June, so unexpectedly, as to make prisoner John King, a
famous preacher among the wanderers; and rapidly continued his march,
carrying his captive along with him, till he came to the village of
Drumclog, about a mile east of Loudoun Hill, and twelve miles south-west
of Hamilton. At some distance from this place, the insurgents were
skilfully posted in a boggy strait, almost inaccessible to cavalry,
having a broad ditch in their front. Claverhouse's dragoons discharged
their carabines, and made an attempt to charge; but the nature of the
ground threw them into total disorder. Burly, who commanded the handful
of horse belonging to the whigs, instantly led them down on the
disordered squadrons of Claverhouse, who were, at the same time,
vigorously assaulted by the foot, headed by the gallant Cleland,[A] and
the enthusiastic Hackston. Claverhouse himself was forced to fly, and
was in the utmost danger of being taken; his horse's belly being cut
open by the stroke of a scythe, so that the poor animal trailed his
bowels for more than a mile. In his flight, he passed King, the
minister, lately his prisoner, but now deserted by his guard, in the
general confusion. The preacher hollowed to the flying commander, "to
halt, and take his prisoner with him;" or, as others say, "to stay,
and take the afternoon's preaching." Claverhouse, at length remounted,
continued his retreat to Glasgow. He lost, in the skirmish, about twenty
of his troopers, and his own cornet and kinsman, Robert Graham, whose
fate is alluded to in the ballad. Only four of the other side were
killed, among whom was Dingwall, or Daniel, an associate of Burly in
Sharpe's murder. "The rebels," says Creichton, "finding the cornet's
body, and supposing it to be that of Clavers, because the name of Graham
was wrought in the shirt-neck, treated it with the utmost inhumanity;
cutting off the nose, picking out the eyes, and stabbing it through in
a hundred places." The same charge is brought by Guild, in his _Bellum
Bothuellianum_, in which occurs the following account of the skirmish at
Drumclog:--

  Mons est occiduus surgit qui celsus in oris
  (Nomine Loudunum) fossis puteisque profundis
  Quot scatet hic tellus et aprico gramine tectus:
  Huc collecta (ait) numeroso milite cincta;
  Turba ferox, matres, pueri, innuptaeque puellae;
  Quam parat egregia Graemus dispersere turma.
  Venit, et primo campo discedere cogit;
  Post hos et alios, caeno provolvit inerti;
  At numerosa cohors, campum dispersa per omnem,
  Circumfusa, ruit; turmasque indagine captas,
  Aggreditur; virtus non hic, nec profuit ensis;
  Corripuere fugam, viridi sed gramine tectis,
  Precipitata perit, fossis, pars plurima, quorum
  Cornipedes haesere luto, sessore rejecto:
  Tum rabiosa cohors, misereri nescia, stratos
  Invadit laceratque viros: hic signifer eheu!
  Trajectus globulo, Graemus quo fortior alter,
  Inter Scotigenas fuerat, nec justior ullus:
  Hunc manibus rapuere feris, faciemque virilem
  Faedarunt, lingua, auriculus, manibusque resectis,
  Aspera, diffuso, spargentes saxa, cerebro:
  Vix dux ipse fuga salvus, namque exta trahebat
  Vulnere tardatus, sonipes generosus hiante:
  Insequitur clamore, cohors fanatica, namque
  Crudelis semper timidus si vicerit unquam.
      _MS. Bellum Bothuellianum._

[Footnote A: William Cleland, a man of considerable genius, was author
of several poems, published in 1697. His Hudibrastic verses are poor
scurrilous trash, as the reader may judge from the description of the
Highlanders, already quoted. But, in a wild rhapsody, entitled, "Hollo,
my Fancy," he displays some imagination. His anti-monarchical principles
seem to break out in the following lines:--

  Fain would I know (if beasts have any reason)
  _If falcons killing eagles do commit a treason?_

He was a strict non-conformist, and, after the Revolution, became
lieutenant colonel of the earl of Angus's regiment, called the
Cameronian regiment. He was killed 21st August, 1689, in the churchyard
of Dunkeld, which his corps manfully and successfully defended against
a superior body of Highlanders. His son was the author of the letter
prefixed to the Dunciad, and is said to have been the notorious Cleland,
who, in circumstances of pecuniary embarrassment, prostituted his
talents to the composition of indecent and infamous works; but this
seems inconsistent with dates, and the latter personage was probably the
grandson of Colonel Cleland.]

Although Burly was among the most active leaders in the action, he was
not the commander in chief, as one would conceive from the ballad. That
honour belonged to Robert Hamilton, brother to Sir William Hamilton of
Preston, a gentleman, who, like most of those at Drumclog, had imbibed
the very wildest principles of fanaticism. The Cameronian account of
the insurrection states, that "Mr Hamilton discovered a great deal of
bravery and valour, both in the conflict with, and pursuit of the enemy;
but when he and some others were pursuing the enemy, others flew too
greedily upon the spoil, small as it was, instead of pursuing the
victory: and some, without Mr Hamilton's knowledge, and against his
strict command, gave five of these bloody enemies quarters, and then let
them go: this greatly grieved Mr Hamilton, when he saw some of Babel's
brats spared, after the Lord had delivered them to their hands, that
they might dash them against the stones." _Psalm_ cxxxvii. 9. In his own
account of this, "he reckons the sparing of these enemies, and letting
them go, to be among their first stepping aside; for which, he feared
that the Lord would not honour them to do much more for him; and says,
that he was neither for taking favours from, nor giving favours to the
Lord's enemies." Burly was not a likely man to fall into this sort of
backsliding. He disarmed one of the duke of Hamilton's servants, who had
been in the action, and desired him to tell his master, he would keep,
till meeting, the pistols he had taken from him. The man described Burly
to the duke as a little stout man, squint-eyed, and of a most ferocious
aspect; from which it appears, that Burly's figure corresponded to his
manners, and perhaps gave rise to his nickname, _Burly_ signifying
_strong_. He was with the insurgents till the battle of Bothwell Bridge,
and afterwards fled to Holland. He joined the prince of Orange, but died
at sea, during the expedition. The Cameronians still believe, he
had obtained liberty from the prince to be avenged of those who had
persecuted the Lord's people; but through his death, the laudable design
of purging the land with their blood, is supposed to have fallen to the
ground.--_Life of Balfour of Kinloch._

The consequences of the battle of Loudon Hill will be detailed in the
introduction to the next ballad.



THE BATTLE OF LOUDONHILL.


  You'l marvel when I tell ye o'
   Our noble Burly, and his train;
  When last he march'd up thro' the land,
   Wi' sax and twenty westland men.

  Than they I ne'er o' braver heard,
   For they had a' baith wit and skill
  They proved right well, as I heard tell,
   As they cam up o'er Loudoun Hill.

  Weel prosper a' the gospel lads,
   That are into the west countrie;
  Ay wicked Claver'se to demean,
   And ay an ill dead may he die!

  For he's drawn up i' battle rank,
   An' that baith soon an' hastilie;
  But they wha live till simmer come,
   Some bludie days for this will see.

  But up spak cruel Claver'se then,
   Wi' hastie wit, an' wicked skill;
  "Gie fire on yon westlan' men;
   "I think it is my sov'reign's will."

  But up bespake his cornet, then,
   "It's be wi' nae consent o' me!
  "I ken I'll ne'er come back again,
   "An' mony mae as weel as me.

  "There is not ane of a' yon men,
   "But wha is worthy other three;
  "There is na ane amang them a',
   "That in his cause will stap to die.

  "An' as for Burly, him I knaw;
   "He's a man of honour, birth, an' fame;
  "Gie him a sword into his hand,
   "He'll fight thysel an' other ten."

  But up spake wicked Claver'se then,
   I wat his heart it raise fu' hie!
  And he has cry'd that a' might hear,
  "Man, ye hae sair deceived me.

  "I never ken'd the like afore,
   "Na, never since I came frae hame,
  "That you sae cowardly here suld prove,
   "An' yet come of a noble Graeme."

  But up bespake his cornet, then,
  "Since that it is your honour's will,
   "Mysel shall be the foremost man,
  "That shall gie fire on Loudoun Hill.

  "At your command I'll lead them on,
   "But yet wi' nae consent o' me;
  "For weel I ken I'll ne'er return,
   "And mony mae as weel as me."

  Then up he drew in battle rank;
   I wat he had a bonny train!
  But the first time that bullets flew,
   Ay he lost twenty o' his men.

  Then back he came the way he gael,
   I wat right soon an' suddenly!
  He gave command amang his men,
   And sent them back, and bade them flee.

  Then up came Burly, bauld an' stout,
   Wi's little train o' westland men;
  Wha mair than either aince or twice
   In Edinburgh confined had been.

  They hae been up to London sent,
   An' yet they're a' come safely down;
  Sax troop o' horsemen they hae beat,
   And chased them into Glasgow town.



THE BATTLE OF BOTHWELL-BRIDGE.


It has been often remarked, that the Scottish, notwithstanding their
national courage, were always unsuccessful, when fighting for their
religion. The cause lay, not in the principle, but in the mode of its
application. A leader like Mahomet, who is, at the same time, the
prophet of his tribe, may avail himself of religious enthusiasm, because
it comes to the aid of discipline, and is a powerful means of attaining
the despotic command, essential to the success of a general. But,
among the insurgents, in the reigns of the last Stuarts, were mingled
preachers, who taught different shades of the presbyterian doctrine;
and, minute as these shades sometimes were, neither the several
shepherds, nor their flocks, could cheerfully unite in a common cause.
This will appear from the transactions leading to the battle of Bothwell
Bridge.

We have seen, that the party, which defeated Claverhouse at Loudoun
Hill, were Cameronians, whose principles consisted in disowning all
temporal authority, which did not flow from and through the Solemn
League and Covenant. This doctrine, which is still retained by a
scattered remnant of the sect in Scotland, is in theory, and would be in
practice, inconsistent with the safety of any well regulated government,
because the Covenanters deny to their governors that toleration, which
was iniquitously refused to themselves. In many respects, therefore, we
cannot be surprised at the anxiety and rigour with which the Cameronians
were persecuted, although we may be of opinion, that milder means would
have induced a melioration of their principles. These men, as already
noticed, excepted against such presbyterians, as were contented to
exercise their worship under the indulgence granted by government,
or, in other words, who would have been satisfied with toleration for
themselves, without insisting upon a revolution in the state, or even in
the church government.

When, however, the success at Loudoun Hill was spread abroad, a number
of preachers, gentlemen, and common people, who had embraced the more
moderate doctrine, joined the army of Hamilton, thinking, that the
difference in their opinions ought not to prevent their acting in the
common cause. The insurgents were repulsed in an attack upon the town
of Glasgow, which, however, Claverhouse, shortly afterwards, thought it
necessary to evacuate. They were now nearly in full possession of the
west of Scotland, and pitched their camp at Hamilton, where, instead of
modelling and disciplining their army, the Cameronians and Erastians
(for so the violent insurgents chose to call the more moderate
presbyterians) only debated, in council of war, the real cause of their
being in arms. Hamilton, their general, was the leader of the first
party; Mr John Walsh, a minister, headed the Erastians. The latter so
far prevailed, as to get a declaration drawn up, in which they owned the
king's government; but the publication of it gave rise to new quarrels.
Each faction had its own set of leaders, all of whom aspired to be
officers; and there were actually two councils of war issuing contrary
orders and declarations at the same time; the one owning the king, and
the other designing him a malignant, bloody, and perjured tyrant.

Meanwhile, their numbers and zeal were magnified at Edinburgh, and great
alarm excited lest they should march eastward. Not only was the foot
militia instantly called out, but proclamations were issued, directing
all the heritors, in the eastern, southern, and northern shires, to
repair to the king's host, with their best horses, arms, and retainers.
In Fife, and other countries, where the presbyterian doctrines
prevailed, many gentlemen disobeyed this order, and were afterwards
severely fined. Most of them alleged, in excuse, the apprehension of
disquiet from their wives.[A] A respectable force was soon assembled;
and James, duke of Buccleuch and Monmouth, was sent down, by Charles,
to take the command, furnished with instructions, not unfavourable
to presbyterians. The royal army now moved slowly forwards towards
Hamilton, and reached Bothwell-moor on the 22d of June, 1679. The
insurgents were encamped chiefly in the duke of Hamilton's park, along
the Clyde, which separated the two armies. Bothwell-bridge, which is
long and narrow, had then a portal in the middle, with gates, which the
Covenanters shut, and barricadoed with stones and logs of timber. This
important post was defended by three hundred of their best men, under
Hackston of Rathillet, and Hall of Haughhead. Early in the morning, this
party crossed the bridge, and skirmished with the royal van-guard,
now advanced as far as the village of Bothwell. But Hackston speedily
retired to his post, at the western end of Bothwell-bridge.

[Footnote A: "Balcanquhall of that ilk alledged, that his horses were
robbed, but shunned to take the declaration, for fear of disquiet from
his wife. Young of Kirkton--his ladyes dangerous sickness, and bitter
curses if he should leave her, and the appearance of abortion on his
offering to go from her. And many others pled, in general terms, that
their wives opposed or contradicted their going. But the justiciary
court found this defence totally irrelevant."--Fountainhall's
_Decisions_, Vol. I. p. 88.]

While the dispositions, made by the duke of Monmouth, announced his
purpose of assailing the pass, the more moderate of the insurgents
resolved to offer terms. Ferguson of Kaithloch, a gentleman of landed
fortune, and David Hume, a clergyman, carried to the duke of Monmouth
a supplication, demanding free exercise of their religion, a free
parliament, and a free general assembly of the church. The duke heard
their demands with his natural mildness, and assured them, he would
interpose with his majesty in their behalf, on condition of their
immediately dispersing themselves, and yielding up their arms. Had the
insurgents been all of the moderate opinion, this proposal would have
been accepted, much bloodshed saved, and, perhaps, some permanent
advantage derived to their party; or, had they been all Cameronians,
their defence would have been fierce and desperate. But, while their
motley and misassorted officers were debating upon the duke's proposal,
his field-pieces were already planted on the eastern side of the
river, to cover the attack of the foot guards, who were led on by Lord
Livingstone to force the bridge. Here Hackston maintained his post with
zeal and courage; nor was it until all his ammunition was expended, and
every support denied him by the general, that he reluctantly abandoned
the important pass.[A] When his party were drawn back, the duke's army,
slowly, and with their cannon in front, defiled along the bridge,
and formed in line of battle, as they came over the river; the duke
commanded the foot, and Claverhouse the cavalry. It would seem, that
these movements could not have been performed without at least some
loss, had the enemy been serious in opposing them. But the insurgents
were otherwise employed. With the strangest delusion, that ever fell
upon devoted beings, they chose these precious moments to cashier their
officers, and elect others in their room. In this important operation,
they were at length disturbed by the duke's cannon, at the very first
discharge of which, the horse of the Covenanters wheeled, and rode off,
breaking and trampling down the ranks of their infantry in their flight.
The Cameronian account blames Weir of Greenridge, a commander of the
horse, who is termed a sad Achan in the camp. The more moderate party
lay the whole blame on Hamilton, whose conduct, they say, left the world
to debate, whether he was most traitor, coward, or fool. The generous
Monmouth was anxious to spare the blood of his infatuated countrymen, by
which he incurred much blame among the high-flying royalists. Lucky it
was for the insurgents that the battle did not happen a day later, when
old General Dalziel, who divided with Claverhouse the terror and hatred
of the whigs, arrived in the camp, with a commission to supersede
Monmouth, as commander in chief. He is said to have upbraided the
duke, publicly, with his lenity, and heartily to have wished his own
commission had come a day sooner, when, as he expresses himself, "These
rogues should never more have troubled the king or country."[B] But,
notwithstanding the merciful orders of the duke of Monmouth, the cavalry
made great slaughter among the fugitives, of whom four hundred were
slain. Guild thus expresses himself:

  Ei ni Dux validus tenuisset forte catervas,
  Vix quisquam profugus vitam servasset inertem:
  Non audita Ducis verum mandata supremi
  Omnibus, insequitur fugientes plurima turba,
  Perque agros, passim, trepida formidine captos
  Obtruncat, saevumque adigit per viscera ferrum.
      _MS. Bellum Bothuellianum._

[Footnote A: There is an accurate representation of this part of the
engagement in an old painting, of which there are two copies extant;
one in the collection of his grace the duke of Hamilton, the other at
Dalkeith house. The whole appearance of the ground, even including a few
old houses, is the same which the scene now presents: The removal of the
porch, or gateway, upon the bridge, is the only perceptible difference.
The duke of Monmouth, on a white charger, directs the march of the party
engaged in storming the bridge, while his artillery gall the motley
ranks of the Covenanters. An engraving of this painting would be
acceptable to the curious; and I am satisfied an opportunity of copying
it, for that purpose, would be readily granted by either of the noble
proprietors.]

[Footnote B: Dalziel was a man of savage manners. A prisoner having
railed at him, while under examination before the privy council, calling
him "a Muscovia beast, who used to roast men, the general, in a passion,
struck him, with the pomel of his shabble, on the face, till the blood
sprung."--FOUNTAINHALL, Vol. I. p. 159. He had sworn never to shave his
beard after the death of Charles the First. This venerable appendage
reached his girdle, and, as he wore always an old-fashioned buff coat,
his appearance in London never failed to attract the notice of the
children and of the mob. King Charles II. used to swear at him, for
bringing such a rabble of boys together, to be squeezed to death, while
they gaped at his long beard and antique habit, and exhorted him to
shave and dress like a Christian, to keep the poor _bairns_, as Dalziel
expressed it, out of danger. In compliance with this request, he once
appeared at court fashionably dressed, excepting the beard; but, when
the king had laughed sufficiently at the metamorphosis, he
resumed his old dress, to the great joy of the boys, his usual
attendants.--CREICHTON'S _Memoirs_, p. 102.]

The same deplorable circumstances are more elegantly bewailed in
_Clyde_, a poem, reprinted in _Scotish Descriptive Poems_, edited by Dr
John Leyden, Edinburgh, 1803:

  "Where Bothwell's bridge connects the margins steep,
  And Clyde, below, runs silent, strong, and deep,
  The hardy peasant, by oppression driven
  To battle, deemed his cause the cause of heaven:
  Unskilled in arms, with useless courage stood,
  While gentle Monmouth grieved to shed his blood:
  But fierce Dundee, inflamed with deadly hate,
  In vengeance for the great Montrose's fate,
  Let loose the sword, and to the hero's shade
  A barbarous hecatomb of victims paid."

The object of Claverhouse's revenge, assigned by Wilson, is grander,
though more remote and less natural, than that in the ballad, which
imputes the severity of the pursuit to his thirst to revenge the death
of his cornet and kinsman, at Drumclog;[A] and to the quarrel betwixt
Claverhouse and Monmouth, it ascribes, with great _naiveté_ the bloody
fate of the latter. Local tradition is always apt to trace foreign
events to the domestic causes, which are more immediately in the
narrator's view. There is said to be another song upon this battle, once
very popular, but I have not been able to recover it. This copy is given
from recitation.

[Footnote A: There is some reason to conjecture, that the revenge of the
Cameronians, if successful, would have been little less sanguinary than
that of the royalists. Creichton mentions, that they had erected, in
their camp, a high pair of gallows, and prepared a quantity of halters,
to hang such prisoners as might fall into their hands, and he admires
the forbearance of the king's soldiers, who, when they returned with
their prisoners, brought them to the very spot where the gallows stood,
and guarded them there, without offering to hang a single individual.
Guild, in the _Bellum Bothuellianum_, alludes to the same story, which
is rendered probable by the character of Hamilton, the insurgent
general. GUILD'S _MSS._--CREICHTON'S _Memoirs_, p. 61.]

There were two Gordons of Earlstoun, father and son. They were descended
of an ancient family in the west of Scotland, and their progenitors were
believed to have been favourers of the reformed doctrine, and possessed
of a translation of the Bible, as early as the days of Wickliffe.
William Gordon, the father, was, in 1663, summoned before the privy
council, for keeping conventicles in his house and woods. By another act
of council, he was banished out of Scotland; but the sentence was never
put into execution. In 1667, Earlstoun was turned out of his house,
which was converted into a garrison for the king's soldiers. He was not
in the battle of Bothwell Bridge, but was met, hastening towards it, by
some English dragoons, engaged in the pursuit, already commenced. As
he refused to surrender, he was instantly slain. WILSON'S _History
of Bothwell Rising--Life of Gordon of Earlston, in Scottish
Worthies_--WODROW'S _History,_ Vol. II. The son, Alexander Gordon
of Earlstoun, I suppose to be the hero of the ballad. He was not a
Cameronian, but of the more moderate class of presbyterians, whose sole
object was freedom of conscience, and relief from the oppressive laws
against non-conformists. He joined the insurgents, shortly after the
skirmish at Loudoun-hill. He appears to have been active in forwarding
the supplication sent to the duke of Monmouth. After the battle, he
escaped discovery, by flying into a house at Hamilton, belonging to one
of his tenants, and disguising himself in female attire. His person
was proscribed, and his estate of Earlstoun was bestowed upon Colonel
Theophilus Ogilthorpe, by the crown, first in security for L.5000,
and afterwards in perpetuity.--FOUNTAINHALL, p. 390. The same author
mentions a person tried at the circuit court, July 10, 1683, solely for
holding intercourse with Earlstoun, an intercommuned (proscribed) rebel.
As he had been in Holland after the battle of Bothwell, he was probably
accessory to the scheme of invasion, which the unfortunate earl of
Argyle was then meditating. He was apprehended upon his return to
Scotland, tried, convicted of treason, and condemned to die; but his
fate was postponed by a letter from the king, appointing him to be
reprieved for a month, that he might, in the interim, be tortured for
the discovery of his accomplices. The council had the unusual spirit
to remonstrate against this illegal course of severity. On November
3, 1653, he received a farther respite, in hopes he would make some
discovery. When brought to the bar, to be tortured (for the king had
reiterated his commands), he, through fear or distraction, roared like a
bull, and laid so stoutly about him, that the hangman and his assistant
could hardly master him. At last he fell into a swoon, and, on his
recovery, charged General Dalziel and Drummond (violent tories),
together with the duke of Hamilton, with being the leaders of the
fanatics. It was generally thought, that he affected this extravagant
behaviour, to invalidate all that agony might extort from him concerning
his real accomplices. He was sent, first, to Edinburgh castle, and,
afterwards, to a prison upon the Bass island; although the privy council
more than once deliberated upon appointing his immediate death. On 22d
August, 1684, Earlstoun was sent for from the Bass, and ordered for
execution, 4th November, 1684. He endeavoured to prevent his doom by
escape; but was discovered and taken, after he had gained the roof of
the prison. The council deliberated, whether, in consideration of this
attempt, he was not liable to instant execution. Finally, however, they
were satisfied to imprison him in Blackness castle, where he remained
till after the Revolution, when he was set at liberty, and his doom of
forfeiture reversed by act of parliament.--See FOUNTAINHALL, Vol. I. pp.
238, 240, 245, 250, 301, 302.



THE BATTLE OF BOTHWELL-BRIDGE.


  "O Billie, billie, bonny billie,
    "Will ye go to the wood wi' me?
  "We'll ca' our horse hame masterless,
    "An' gar them trow slain men are we."

  "O no, O no!" says Earlstoun,
    "For that's the thing that mauna be;
  "For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,
    "Where I maun either gae or die."

  So Earlstoun rose in the morning,
    An' mounted by the break o' day;
  An' he has joined our Scottish lads,
    As they were marching out the way.

  "Now, farewell father, and farewell mother,
    "An' fare ye weel my sisters three;
  "An' fare ye weel my Earlstoun,
    "For thee again I'll never see!"

  So they're awa' to Bothwell Hill,
    An waly[A] they rode bonnily!
  When the duke o' Monmouth saw them comin',
    He went to view their company.

  "Ye're welcome, lads," then Monmouth said,
    "Ye're welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;
  "And sae are ye, brave Earlstoun,
    "The foremost o' your company!

  "But yield your weapons ane an' a';
    "O yield your weapons, lads, to me;
  "For, gin ye'll yield your weapons up,
    "Ye'se a' gae hame to your country."

  Out up then spak a Lennox lad,
    And waly but he spak bonnily!
  "I winna yield my weapons up,
    "To you nor nae man that I see."

  Then he set up the flag o' red,
    A' set about wi' bonny blue;
  "Since ye'll no cease, and be at peace,
    "See that ye stand by ither true."

  They stell'd[B] their cannons on the height,
    And showr'd their shot down in the how;[C]
  An' beat our Scots lads even down,
    Thick they lay slain on every know.[D]

  As e'er you saw the rain down fa',
    Or yet the arrow frae the bow,--
  Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,
    An' they lay slain on every know.

  "O, hold your hand," then Monmouth cry'd,
    "Gie quarters to yon men for me!"
  But wicked Claver'se swore an oath,
    His cornet's death reveng'd sud be.

  "O hold your hand," then Monmouth cry'd,
    "If ony thing you'll do for me;
  "Hold up your hand, you cursed Graeme,
    "Else a rebel to our king ye'll be."

  Then wicked Claver'se turn'd about,
    I wot an angry man was he;
  And he has lifted up his hat,
    And cry'd, "God bless his majesty!"

  Then he's awa to London town,
    Ay e'en as fast as he can dree;
  Fause witnesses he has wi' him ta'en.
    An' ta'en Monmouth's head f'rae his body.

  Alang the brae, beyond the brig,
    Mony brave man lies cauld and still;
  But lang we'll mind, and sair we'll rue,
    The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

[Footnote A: _Waly!_ an interjection.]

[Footnote B: _Stell'd_--Planted.]

[Footnote C: _How_--Hollow.]

[Footnote D: _Know_--Knoll.]



NOTES ON THE BATTLE OF BOTHWELL-BRIDGE.


  _Then he set up the flag of red,
    A' set about wi' bonnie blue._--P. 91. v. 1.

Blue was the favourite colour of the Covenanters; hence the vulgar
phrase of a true blue whig. Spalding informs us, that when the first
army of Covenanters entered Aberdeen, few or none "wanted a blue
ribband; the lord Gordon, and some others of the marquis (of Huntley's)
family had a ribband, when they were dwelling in the town, of a red
fresh colour, which they wore in their hats, and called it the _royal
ribband_, as a sign of their love and loyalty to the king. In despite
and derision thereof, this blue ribband was worn, and called the
_Covenanter's ribband_, by the hail soldiers of the army, who would not
hear of the royal ribband, such was their pride and malice."--Vol. I. p.
123. After the departure of this first army, the town was occupied by
the barons of the royal party, till they were once more expelled by the
Covenanters, who plundered the burgh and country adjacent; "no fowl,
cock, or hen, left unkilled, the hail house-dogs, messens (i.e.
lap-dogs), and whelps, within Aberdeen, killed upon the streets; so that
neither hound, messen, nor other dog, was left alive that they could
see: the reason was this,--when the first army came here, ilk captain
and soldier had a blue ribband about his craig (i.e. neck); in despite
and derision whereof, when they removed from Aberdeen, some women of
Aberdeen, as was alleged, knit blue ribbands about their messens'
craigs, whereat their soldiers took offence, and killed all their dogs
for this very cause."--P. 160.

I have seen one of the ancient banners of the Covenanters: it
was divided into four copartments, inscribed with the words,
_Christ--Covenant--King--Kingdom_. Similar standards are mentioned in
Spalding's curious and minute narrative, Vol. II. pp. 182, 245.

  _Hold up your hand, ye cursed Graeme,
    Else a rebel to our king ye'll be._--P, 91. v. 5.

It is very extraordinary, that, in April, 1685, Claverhouse was left out
of the new commission of privy council, as being too favourable to the
fanatics. The pretence was his having married into the presbyterian
family of lord Dundonald. An act of council was also past, regulating
the payment of quarters, which is stated by Fountainhall to have been
done in _odium_ of Claverhouse, and in order to excite complaints
against him. This charge, so inconsistent with the nature and conduct of
Claverhouse, seems to have been the fruit of a quarrel betwixt him and
the lord high treasurer. FOUNTAINHALL, Vol. I. p. 360.

That Claverhouse was most unworthily accused of mitigating the
persecution of the Covenanters, will appear from the following simple,
but very affecting narrative, extracted from one of the little
publications which appeared soon after the Revolution, while the
facts were fresh in the memory of the sufferers. The imitation of the
scriptural stile produces, in some passages of these works, an effect
not unlike what we feel in reading the beautiful book of Ruth. It is
taken from the life of Mr Alexander Peden,[A] printed about 1720.

"In the beginning of May, 1685, he came to the house of John Brown and
Marion Weir, whom he married before he went to Ireland, where he stayed
all night; and, in the morning when he took farewell, he came out of the
door, saying to himself, "Poor woman, a fearful morning," twice over. "A
dark misty morning!" The next morning, between five and six hours, the
said John Brown having performed the worship of God in his family, was
going, with a spade in his hand, to make ready some peat ground: the
mist being very dark, he knew not until cruel and bloody Claverhouse
compassed him with three troops of horse, brought him to his house, and
there examined him; who, though he was a man of a stammering speech, yet
answered him distinctly and solidly; which made Claverhouse to examine
those whom he had taken to be his guides through the muirs, if ever they
heard him preach? They answered, "No, no, he was never a preacher." He
said, "If he has never preached, meikle he has prayed in his time;" he
said to John, "Go to your prayers, for you shall immediately die!" When
he was praying, Claverhouse interrupted him three times; one time, that
he stopt him, he was pleading that the Lord would spare a remnant, and
not make a full end in the day of his anger. Claverhouse said, "I gave
you time to pray, and ye are begun to preach;" he turned about upon
his knees, and said, "Sir, you know neither the nature of preaching or
praying, that calls this preaching." Then continued without confusion.
When ended, Claverhouse said, "Take goodnight of your wife and
children." His wife, standing by with her child in her arms that she had
brought forth to him, and another child of his first wife's, he came
to her, and said, "Now, Marion, the day is come, that I told you would
come, when I spake first to you of marrying me." She said, "Indeed,
John, I can willingly part with you."--"Then," he said, "this is all I
desire, I have no more to do but die." He kissed his wife and bairns,
and wished purchased and promised blessings to be multiplied upon them,
and his blessing. Clavers ordered six soldiers to shoot him; the most
part of the bullets came upon his head, which scattered his brains upon
the ground. Claverhouse said to his wife, "What thinkest thou of thy
husband now, woman?" She said, "I thought ever much of him, and now as
much as ever." He said, "It were justice to lay thee beside him." She
said, "If ye were permitted, I doubt not but your cruelty would go that
length; but how will ye make answer for this morning's work?" He said,
"To man I can be answerable; and for God, I will take him in my own
hand." Claverhouse mounted his horse, and marched, and left her with the
corpse of her dead husband lying there; she set the bairn on the ground,
and gathered his brains, and tied up his head, and straighted his body,
and covered him in her plaid, and sat down, and wept over him. It being
a very desart place, where never victual grew, and far from neighbours,
it was some time before any friends came to her; the first that came was
a very fit hand, that old singular Christian woman, in the Cummerhead,
named Elizabeth Menzies, three miles distant, who had been tried with
the violent death of her husband at Pentland, afterwards of two worthy
sons, Thomas Weir, who was killed at Drumclog, and David Steel, who was
suddenly shot afterwards when taken. The said Marion Weir, sitting upon
her husband's grave, told me, that before that, she could see no blood
but she was in danger to faint; and yet she was helped to be a witness
to all this, without either fainting or confusion, except when the shots
were let off her eyes dazzled. His corpse were buried at the end of his
house, where he was slain, with this inscription on his grave-stone:--

  In earth's cold bed, the dusty part here lies,
  Of one who did the earth as dust despise!
  Here, in this place, from earth he took departure;
  Now, he has got the garland of the martyrs.

[Footnote A: The enthusiasm of this personage, and of his followers,
invested him, as has been already noticed, with prophetic powers; but
hardly any of the stories told of him exceeds that sort of gloomy
conjecture of misfortune, which the precarious situation of his sect
so greatly fostered. The following passage relates to the battle
of Bothwell-bridge:--"That dismal day, 22d of June, 1679, at
Bothwell-bridge, when the Lord's people fell and fled before the enemy,
he was forty miles distant, near the border, and kept himself retired
until the middle of the day, when some friends said to him, 'Sir, the
people are waiting for sermon,' He answered, 'Let them go to their
prayers; for me, I neither can nor will preach any this day, for our
friends are fallen and fled before the enemy, at Hamilton, and they are
hacking and hewing them down, and their blood is running like water."
The feats of Peden are thus commemorated by Fountainhall, 27th of March,
1650: "News came to the privy council, that about one hundred men, well
armed and appointed, had left Ireland, because of a search there for
such malcontents, and landed in the west of Scotland, and joined with
the wild fanatics. The council, finding that they disappointed the
forces, by skulking from hole to hole, were of opinion, it were better
to let them gather into a body, and draw to a head, and so they would
get them altogether in a snare. They had one Mr Peden, a minister, with
them, and one Isaac, who commanded them. They had frighted most part
of all the country ministers, so that they durst not stay at their
churches, but retired to Edinburgh, or to garrison towns; and it was sad
to see whole shires destitute of preaching, except in burghs. Wherever
they came they plundered arms, and particularly at my Lord Dumfries's
house."--FOUNTAINHALL, Vol. I. p. 359.]

"This murder was committed betwixt six and seven in the morning: Mr
Peden was about ten or eleven miles distant, having been in the fields
all night: he came to the house betwixt seven and eight, and desired to
call in the family, that he might pray amongst them; when praying, he
said, "Lord, when wilt thou avenge Brown's blood? Oh, let Brown's blood
be precious in thy sight! and hasten the day when thou wilt avenge it,
with Cameron's, Cargil's, and many others of our martyrs' names; and oh!
for that day, when the Lord would avenge all their bloods!" When ended,
John Muirhead enquired what he meant by Brown's blood? He said twice
over, "What do I mean? Claverhouse has been at the Preshil this morning,
and has cruelly murdered John Brown; his corpse are lying at the end of
his house, and his poor wife sitting weeping by his corpse, and not a
soul to speak a word comfortably to her."

While we read this dismal story, we must remember Brown's situation
was that of an avowed and determined rebel, liable as such to military
execution; so that the atrocity was more that of the times than of
Claverhouse. That general's gallant adherence to his master, the
misguided James VII., and his glorious death on the field of victory, at
Killicrankie, have tended to preserve and gild his memory. He is still
remembered in the Highlands as the most successful leader of their
clans. An ancient gentleman, who had borne arms for the cause of Stuart,
in 1715, told the editor, that, when the armies met on the field of
battle, at Sheriff-muir, a veteran chief (I think he named Gordon
of Glenbucket), covered with scars, came up to the earl of Mar, and
earnestly pressed him to order the Highlanders to charge, before the
regular army of Argyle had completely formed their line, and at a moment
when the rapid and furious onset of the clans might have thrown them
into total disorder. Mar repeatedly answered, it was not yet time; till
the chieftain turned from him in disdain and despair, and, stamping with
rage, exclaimed aloud, "O for one hour of Dundee!"

Claverhouse's sword (a strait cut-and-thrust blade) is in the possession
of Lord Woodhouselee. In Pennycuik-house is preserved the buff-coat,
which he wore at the battle of Killicrankie. The fatal shot-hole is
under the arm-pit, so that the ball must have been received while his
arm was raised to direct the pursuit However he came by his charm of
_proof_, he certainly had not worn the garment usually supposed to
confer that privelage, and which is called _the waistcoat of proof, or
of necessity_. It was thus made: "On Christmas daie, at night, a thread
must be sponne of flax, by a little virgine girle, in the name of the
divell: and it must be by her woven, and also wrought with the needle.
In the breast, or forepart thereof, must be made with needle work, two
heads; on the head, at the right side, must be a hat and a long beard;
the left head must have on a crown, and it must be so horrible that it
maie resemble Belzebub; and on each side of the wastcote must be made a
crosse."--SCOTT'S _Discoverie of Witchcraft,_ p. 231.

It would be now no difficult matter to bring down our popular poetry,
connected with history, to the year 1745. But almost all the party
ballads of that period have been already printed, and ably illustrated
by Mr Ritson.


END OF HISTORICAL BALLADS.





MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER.


PART SECOND.


_ROMANTIC BALLADS._



SCOTTISH MUSIC, AN ODE,

BY J. LEYDEN.

TO IANTHE.


  Again, sweet syren, breathe again
  That deep, pathetic, powerful strain;
    Whose melting tones, of tender woe,
  Fall soft as evening's summer dew,
  That bathes the pinks and harebells blue,
    Which in the vales of Tiviot blow.

  Such was the song that soothed to rest.
  Far in the green isle of the west,
    The Celtic warrior's parted shade;
  Such are the lonely sounds that sweep
  O'er the blue bosom of the deep,
    Where ship-wrecked mariners are laid.

  Ah! sure, as Hindú legends tell,
  When music's tones the bosom swell,
    The scenes of former life return;
  Ere, sunk beneath the morning star,
  We left our parent climes afar,
    Immured in mortal forms to mourn.

  Or if, as ancient sages ween,
  Departed spirits, half-unseen,
    Can mingle with the mortal throng;
  'Tis when from heart to heart we roll
  The deep-toned music of the soul,
    That warbles in our Scottish song.

  I hear, I hear, with awful dread,
  The plaintive music of the dead;
    They leave the amber fields of day:
  Soft as the cadence of the wave,
  That murmurs round the mermaid's grave,
    They mingle in the magic lay.

  Sweet syren, breathe the powerful strain!
  _Lochroyan's Damsel_[A] sails the main;
    The chrystal tower enchanted see!
  "Now break," she cries, "ye fairy charms!"
  As round she sails with fond alarms,
    "Now break, and set my true love free!"

  Lord Barnard is to greenwood gone,
  Where fair _Gil Morrice_ sits alone,
    And careless combs his yellow hair;
  Ah! mourn the youth, untimely slain!
  The meanest of Lord Barnard's train
    The hunter's mangled head must bear.

  Or, change these notes of deep despair,
  For love's more soothing tender air:
    Sing, how, beneath the greenwood tree,
  _Brown Adam's_[B] love maintained her truth,
  Nor would resign the exiled youth
    For any knight the fair could see.

  And sing _the Hawk of pinion gray_,[C]
  To southern climes who winged his way,
    For he could speak as well as fly;
  Her brethren how the fair beguiled,
  And on her Scottish lover smiled,
    As slow she raised her languid eye.

  Fair was her cheek's carnation glow,
  Like red blood on a wreath of snow;
    Like evening's dewy star her eye:
  White as the sea-mew's downy breast,
  Borne on the surge's foamy crest,
    Her graceful bosom heaved the sigh.

  In youth's first morn, alert and gay,
  Ere rolling years had passed away,
    Remembered like a morning dream,
  I heard these dulcet measures float,
  In many a liquid winding note,
    Along the banks of Teviot's stream.

  Sweet sounds! that oft have soothed to rest
  The sorrows of my guileless breast,
    And charmed away mine infant tears:
  Fond memory shall your strains repeat,
  Like distant echoes, doubly sweet,
    That in the wild the traveller hears.

  And thus, the exiled Scotian maid,
  By fond alluring love betrayed
    To visit Syria's date-crowned shore;
  In plaintive strains, that soothed despair,
  Did "Bothwell's banks that bloom so fair,"
    And scenes of early youth, deplore.

  Soft syren! whose enchanting strain
  Floats wildly round my raptured brain,
    I bid your pleasing haunts adieu!
  Yet, fabling fancy oft shall lead
  My footsteps to the silver Tweed,
    Through scenes that I no more must view.

[Footnote A: _The Lass of Lochroyan_--In this volume.]

[Footnote B: See the ballad, entitled, _Brown Adam._]

[Footnote C: See the _Gay Goss Hawk._]



NOTES ON SCOTTISH MUSIC, AN ODE.

  _Far in the green isle of the west._--P. 103. v. 2.
    The _Flathinnis_, or Celtic paradise.

  _Ah! sure, as Hindú legends tell._--P. 104. v. 1.

The effect of music is explained by the Hindús, as recalling to our
memory the airs of paradise, heard in a state of pre-existence--_Vide_
Sacontala.

  _Did "Bathwell's banks that bloom so fair."_--P. 106. v. 3.

"So fell it out of late years, that an English gentleman, travelling in
Palestine, not far from Jerusalem, as he passed through a country town,
he heard, by chance, a woman sitting at her door, dandling her child, to
sing, _Bothwel bank thou blumest fair_. The gentleman hereat wondered,
and forthwith, in English, saluted the woman, who joyfully answered him;
and said, she was right glad there to see a gentleman of our isle: and
told him, that she was a Scottish woman, and came first from Scotland to
Venice, and from Venice thither, where her fortune was to be the wife of
an officer under the Turk; who being at that instant absent, and very
soon to return, she entreated the gentleman to stay there until his
return. The which he did; and she, for country sake, to shew herself the
more kind and bountiful unto him, told her husband, at his home-coming,
that the gentleman was her kinsman; whereupon her husband entertained
him very kindly; and, at his departure gave him divers things of good
value."--_Verstigan's Restitution of Decayed Intelligence._ Chap. _Of
the Sirnames of our Antient Families._ Antwerp, 1605.



INTRODUCTION TO THE TALE OF TAMLANE.


ON THE FAIRIES OF POPULAR SUPERSTITION.


  _"Of airy elves, by moon-light shadows seen,
  The silver token, and the circled green._--POPE.

In a work, avowedly dedicated to the preservation of the poetry and
tradition of the "olden time," it would be unpardonable to omit this
opportunity of making some observations upon so interesting an article
of the popular creed, as that concerning the Elves, or Fairies. The
general idea of spirits, of a limited power, and subordinate nature,
dwelling among the woods and mountains, is, perhaps common to all
nations. But the intermixture of tribes, of languages, and religion,
which has occurred in Europe, renders it difficult to trace the origin
of the names which have been bestowed upon such spirits, and the primary
ideas which were entertained concerning their manners and habits.

The word _elf_, which seems to have been the original name of the
beings, afterwards denominated fairies, is of Gothic origin, and
probably signified, simply, a spirit of a lower order. Thus, the Saxons
had not only _dun-elfen_, _berg-elfen_, and _munt-elfen_, spirits of
the downs, hills, and mountains; but also _feld-elfen_, _wudu-elfen_,
_sae-elfen_, and _water-elfen_; spirits of the fields, of the woods,
of the sea, and of the waters. In low German, the same latitude of
expression occurs; for night hags are termed _aluinnen_, and _aluen_,
which is sometimes Latinized _eluoe_. But the prototype of the English
elf, is to be sought chiefly in the _berg-elfen_, or _duergar_, of the
Scandinavians. From the most early of the Icelandic Sagas, as well as
from the Edda itself, we learn the belief of the northern nations in
a race of dwarfish spirits, inhabiting the rocky mountains, and
approaching, in some respects, to the human nature. Their attributes,
amongst which we recognize the features of the modern Fairy, were,
supernatural wisdom and prescience, and skill in the mechanical arts,
especially in the fabrication of arms. They are farther described, as
capricious, vindictive, and easily irritated. The story of the elfin
sword, _Tyrfing_, may be the most pleasing illustration of this
position. Suafurlami, a Scandinavian monarch, returning from hunting,
bewildered himself among the mountains. About sun-set, he beheld a large
rock, and two dwarfs, sitting before the mouth of a cavern. The king
drew his sword, and intercepted their retreat, by springing betwixt
them and their recess, and imposed upon them the following condition of
safety:--that they should make for him a faulchion, with a baldric and
scabbard of pure gold, and a blade, which should divide stones and iron
as a garment, and which should render the wielder ever victorious in
battle. The elves complied with the requisition, and Suafurlami pursued
his way home. Returning at the time appointed, the dwarfs delivered to
him the famous sword _Tyrfing_; then, standing in the entrance of their
cavern, spoke thus: "This sword, O king, shall "destroy a man every time
it is brandished; but it shall "perform three atrocious deeds, and it
shall be thy bane." The king rushed forward with the charmed sword, and
buried both its edges in the rock; but the dwarfs escaped into their
recesses.[A] This enchanted sword emitted rays like the sun, dazzling
all against whom it was brandished; it divided steel like water, and was
never unsheathed without slaying a man--_Hervarar Saga,_ p. 9. Similar
to this was the enchanted sword, _Skoffhung_, which was taken by a
pirate out of the tomb of a Norwegian monarch. Many such tales are
narrated in the Sagas; but the most distinct account of the _-duergar_,
or elves, and their attributes, is to be found in a preface of Torfaeus
to the history of Hrolf Kraka, who cites a dissertation by Einar
Gudmund, a learned native of Iceland. "I am firmly of opinion," says the
Icelander, "that these beings are creatures of God, consisting, like
human beings, of a body and rational soul; that they are of different
sexes, and capable of producing children, and subject to all human
affections, as sleeping and waking, laughing and crying, poverty and
wealth; and that they possess cattle, and other effects, and are
obnoxious to death, like other mortals." He proceeds to state, that the
females of this race are capable of procreating with mankind; and gives
an account of one who bore a child to an inhabitant of Iceland, for whom
she claimed the privilege of baptism; depositing the infant, for that
purpose, at the gate of the church-yard, together with a goblet of gold,
as an offering.--_Historia Hrolfi Krakae, a_ TORFAEO.

[Footnote A: Perhaps in this, and similar tales, we may recognize
something of real history. That the Fins, or ancient natives of
Scandinavia, were driven into the mountains, by the invasion of Odin and
his Asiatics, is sufficiently probable; and there is reason to believe,
that the aboriginal inhabitants understood, better than the intruders,
how to manufacture the produce of their own mines. It is therefore
possible, that, in process of time, the oppressed Fins may have been
transformed into the supernatural _duergar_. A similar transformation
has taken place among the vulgar in Scotland, regarding the Picts, or
Pechs, to whom they ascribe various supernatural attributes.]

Similar to the traditions of the Icelanders, are those current among the
Laplanders of Finland, concerning a subterranean people, gifted with'
supernatural qualities, and inhabiting the recesses of the earth.
Resembling men in their general appearance, the manner of their
existence, and their habits of life, they far excel the miserable
Laplanders in perfection of nature, felicity of situation, and skill in
mechanical arts. From all these advantages, however, after the partial
conversion of the Laplanders, the subterranean people have derived no
farther credit, than to be confounded with the devils and magicians of
the dark ages of Christianity; a degradation which, as will shortly be
demonstrated, has been also suffered by the harmless Fairies of Albion,
and indeed by the whole host of deities of learned Greece and mighty
Rome. The ancient opinions are yet so firmly rooted, that the Laps of
Finland, at this day, boast of an intercourse with these beings, in
banquets, dances, and magical ceremonies, and even in the more intimate
commerce of gallantry. They talk, with triumph, of the feasts which
they have shared in the elfin caverns, where wine and tobacco, the
productions of the Fairy region, went round in abundance, and whence
the mortal guest, after receiving the kindest treatment and the most
salutary counsel, has been conducted to his tent by an escort of his
supernatural entertainers.--_Jessens, de Lapponibus._

The superstitions of the islands of Feroe, concerning their
_Froddenskemen_, or under-ground people, are derived from the _duergar_
of Scandinavia. These beings are supposed to inhabit the interior
recesses of mountains, which they enter by invisible passages. Like the
Fairies, they are supposed to steal human beings. "It happened," says
Debes, p. 354, "a good while since, when the burghers of Bergen had
the commerce of Feroe, that there was a man in Servaade, called Jonas
Soideman, who was kept by spirits in a mountain, during the space of
seven years, and at length came out; but lived afterwards in great
distress and fear, lest they should again take him away; wherefore
people were obliged to watch him in the night." The same author mentions
another young man, who had been carried away, and, after his return, was
removed a second time upon the eve of his marriage. He returned in a
short time, and narrated, that the spirit that had carried him away, was
in the shape of a most beautiful woman, who pressed him to forsake his
bride, and remain with her; urging her own superior beauty, and splendid
appearance. He added, that he saw the men who were employed to search
for him, and heard them call; but that they could not see him, nor could
he answer them, till, upon his determined refusal to listen to the
spirit's persuasions, the spell ceased to operate. The kidney-shaped
West Indian bean, which is sometimes driven upon the shore of the
Feroes, is termed, by the natives "the _Fairie's kidney_."

In these traditions of the Gothic and Finnish tribes, we may recognize,
with certainty, the rudiments of elfin superstition; but we must look to
various other causes for the modifications which it has undergone. These
are to be sought, 1st, in the traditions of the east; 2d, in the wreck
and confusion of the Gothic mythology; 3d, in the tales of chivalry;
4th, in the fables of classical antiquity; 5th, in the influence of the
Christian religion; 6th, and finally, in the creative imagination of
the sixteenth century. It may be proper to notice the effect of these
various causes, before stating the popular belief of our own time,
regarding the Fairies.

I. To the traditions of the east, the Fairies of Britain owe, I think,
little more than the appellation, by which they have been distinguished
since the days of the crusade. The term "Fairy," occurs not only
in Chaucer, and in yet older English authors, but also, and more
frequently, in the romance language; from which they seem to have
adopted it. Ducange cites the following passage from Gul. Guiart, in
_Historia Francica_, MS.

  Plusiers parlent de Guenart,
  Du Lou, de L'Asne, de Renart,
  De _Faëries_ et de Songes,
  De phantosmes et de mensonges.

The _Lay le Frain_, enumerating the subjects of the Breton Lays, informs
us expressly,

  Many ther beth _faëry_.

By some etymologists of that learned class, who not only know whence
words come, but also whither they are going, the term _Fairy_, or
_Faërie_, is derived from _Faë_, which is again derived from _Nympha_.
It is more probable the term is of oriental origin, and is derived from
the Persic, through the medium of the Arabic. In Persic, the term _Peri_
expresses a species of imaginary being, which resembles the Fairy in
some of its qualities, and is one of the fairest creatures of romantic
fancy. This superstition must have been known to the Arabs, among whom
the Persian tales, or romances, even as early as the time of Mahomet,
were so popular, that it required the most terrible denunciations of
that legislator to proscribe them. Now, in the enunciation of the Arabs,
the term _Peri_ would sound _Fairy_, the letter _p_ not occurring in
the alphabet of that nation; and, as the chief intercourse of the early
crusaders was with the Arabs, or Saracens, it is probable they would
adopt the term according to their pronounciation. Neither will it be
considered as an objection to this opinion, that in Hesychius, the
Ionian term _Phereas_, or _Pheres_, denotes the satyrs of classical
antiquity, if the number of words of oriental origin in that
lexicographer be recollected. Of the Persian Peris, Ouseley, in his
_Persian Miscellanies_, has described some characteristic traits, with
all the luxuriance of a fancy, impregnated with the oriental association
of ideas. However vaguely their nature and appearance is described, they
are uniformly represented as gentle, amiable females, to whose character
beneficence and beauty are essential. None of them are mischievous or
malignant; none of them are deformed or diminutive, like the Gothic
fairy. Though they correspond in beauty with our ideas of angels, their
employments are dissimilar; and, as they have no place in heaven, their
abode is different. Neither do they resemble those intelligences, whom,
on account of their wisdom, the Platonists denominated Daemons; nor
do they correspond either to the guardian Genii of the Romans, or the
celestial virgins of paradise, whom the Arabs denominate Houri. But the
Peris hover in the balmy clouds, live in the colours of the rainbow,
and, as the exquisite purity of their nature rejects all nourishment
grosser than the odours of flowers, they subsist by inhaling the
fragrance of the jessamine and rose. Though their existence is not
commensurate with the bounds of human life, they are not exempted from
the common fate of mortals.--With the Peris, in Persian mythology, are
contrasted the Dives, a race of beings, who differ from them in sex,
appearance, and disposition. These are represented as of the male sex,
cruel, wicked, and of the most hideous aspect; or, as they are described
by Mr Finch, "with ugly shapes, long horns, staring eyes, shaggy hair,
great fangs, ugly paws, long tails, with such horrible difformity and
deformity, that I wonder the poor women are not frightened therewith."
Though they live very long, their lives are limited, and they are
obnoxious to the blows of a human foe. From the malignancy of their
nature, they not only wage war with mankind, but persecute the Peris
with unremitting ferocity. Such are the brilliant and fanciful colours
in which the imaginations of the Persian poets have depicted the
charming race of the Peris; and, if we consider the romantic gallantry
of the knights of chivalry, and of the crusaders, it will not appear
improbable, that their charms might occasionally fascinate the fervid
imagination of an amorous troubadour. But, further; the intercourse of
France and Italy with the Moors of Spain, and the prevalence of the
Arabic, as the language of science in the dark ages, facilitated the
introduction of their mythology amongst the nations of the west. Hence,
the romances of France, of Spain, and of Italy, unite in describing the
Fairy as an inferior spirit, in a beautiful female form, possessing many
of the amiable qualities of the eastern Peri. Nay, it seems sufficiently
clear, that the romancers borrowed from the Arabs, not merely the
general idea concerning those spirits, but even the names of individuals
amongst them. The Peri, _Mergian Banou_ (see _Herbelot, ap. Peri_),
celebrated in the ancient Persian poetry, figures in the European
romances, under the various names of _Mourgue La Faye_, sister to _King
Arthur; Urgande La Deconnue_, protectress of _Amadis de Gaul_; and the
_Fata Morgana_ of Boiardo and Ariosto. The description of these nymphs,
by the troubadours and minstrels, is in no respect inferior to those of
the Peris. In the tale of _Sir Launfal_, in Way's _Fabliaux_, as well as
in that of _Sir Gruelan_, in the same interesting collection, the reader
will find the fairy of Normandy, or Bretagne, adorned with all the
splendour of eastern description. The fairy _Melusina_, also, who
married Guy de Lusignan, count of Poictou, under condition that he
should never attempt to intrude upon her privacy, was of this latter
class. She bore the count many children, and erected for him a
magnificent castle by her magical art. Their harmony was uninterrupted,
until the prying husband broke the conditions of their union, by
concealing himself, to behold his wife make use of her enchanted
bath. Hardly had _Melusina_ discovered the indiscreet intruder, than,
transforming herself into a dragon, she departed with a loud yell of
lamentation, and was never again visible to mortal eyes; although, even
in the days of Brantome, she was supposed to be the protectress of her
descendants, and was heard wailing, as she sailed upon the blast
round the turrets of the castle of Lusiguan, the night before it was
demolished. For the full story, the reader may consult the _Bibliotheque
des Romans_.[A]--Gervase of Tilbury (pp. 895, and 989), assures us,
that, in his days, the lovers of the Fadae, or Fairies, were numerous;
and describes the rules of their intercourse with as much accuracy, as
if he had himself been engaged in such an affair. Sir David Lindsay also
informs us, that a leopard is the proper armorial bearing of those
who spring from such intercourse, because that beast is generated by
adultery of the pard and lioness. He adds, that Merlin, the prophet, was
the first who adopted this cognizance, because he was "borne of faarie
in adultre, and right sua the first duk of Guyenne, was borne of a
_fee_; and, therefoir, the armes of Guyenne are a leopard."--_MS. on
Heraldry, Advocates' Library,_ w. 4. 13. While, however, the Fairy of
warmer climes was thus held up as an object of desire and of affection,
those of Britain, and more especially those of Scotland, were far
from being so fortunate; but, retaining the unamiable qualities, and
diminutive size of the Gothic elves, they only exchanged that term for
the more popular appellation of Fairies.

[Footnote A: Upon this, or some similar tradition, was founded the
notion, which the inveteracy of national prejudice, so easily diffused
in Scotland, that the ancestor of the English monarchs, Geoffrey
Plantagenet, had actually married a daemon. Bowmaker, in order to
explain the cruelty and ambition of Edward I., dedicates a chapter to
shew "how the kings of England are descended from the devil, by the
mother's side."--_Fordun, Chron._ lib. 9, cap. 6. The lord of a certain
castle, called Espervel, was unfortunate enough to have a wife of the
same class. Having observed, for several years, that she always left the
chapel before the mass was concluded, the baron, in a fit of obstinacy
or curiosity, ordered his guard to detain her by force; of which the
consequence was, that, unable to support the elevation of the host, she
retreated through the air, carrying with her one side of the chapel, and
several of the congregation.]

II. Indeed, so singularly unlucky were the British Fairies that, as has
already been hinted, amid the wreck of the Gothic mythology, consequent
upon the introduction of Christianity, they seem to have preserved, with
difficulty, their own distinct characteristics, while, at the same time,
they engrossed the mischievous attributes of several other classes of
subordinate spirits, acknowledged by the nations of the north. The
abstraction of children, for example, the well known practice of the
modern Fairy, seems, by the ancient Gothic nations, to have rather been
ascribed to a species of night-mare, or hag, than to the _berg-elfen_,
or _duergar_. In the ancient legend of _St Margaret_, of which there is
a Saxo-Norman copy, in _Hickes' Thesaurus Linguar. Septen._ and one,
more modern, in the Auchinleck MSS., that lady encounters a fiend, whose
profession it was, among other malicious tricks, to injure new-born
children and their mothers; a practice afterwards imputed to the
Fairies. Gervase of Tilbury, in the _Otia Imperialia_, mentions certain
hags, or _Lamiae_, who entered into houses in the night-time, to oppress
the inhabitants, while asleep, injure their persons and property, and
carry off their children. He likewise mentions the _Dracae_, a sort of
water spirits, who inveigle women and children into the recesses which
they inhabit, beneath lakes and rivers, by floating past them, on the
surface of the water, in the shape of gold rings, or cups. The women,
thus seized, are employed as nurses, and, after seven years, are
permitted to revisit earth. Gervase mentions one woman, in particular,
who had been allured by observing a wooden dish, or cup, float by her,
while washing clothes in a river. Being seized as soon as she reached
the depths, she was conducted into one of these subterranean recesses,
which she described as very magnificent, and employed as nurse to one of
the brood of the hag who had allured her. During her residence in this
capacity, having accidentally touched one of her eyes with an ointment
of serpent's grease, she perceived, at her return to the world, that she
had acquired the faculty of seeing the _dracae_, when they intermingle
themselves with men. Of this power she was, however, deprived by the
touch of her ghostly mistress, whom she had one day incautiously
addressed. It is a curious fact, that this story, in almost all its
parts, is current in both the Highlands and Lowlands of Scotland, with
no other variation than the substitution of Fairies for _dracae_, and
the cavern of a hill for that of a river.[A] These water fiends are thus
characterized by Heywood, in the _Hierarchie_--

  "Spirits, that have o'er water gouvernement,
  Are to mankind alike malevolent;
  They trouble seas, flouds, rivers, brookes, and wels,
  Meres, lakes, and love to enhabit watry cells;
  Hence noisome and pestiferous vapours raise;
  Besides, they men encounter divers ways.
  At wreckes some present are; another sort,
  Ready to cramp their joints that swim for sport:
  One kind of these, the Italians _fatae_ name,
  _Fee_ the French, we _sybils_, and the same;
  Others _white nymphs_, and those that have them seen,
  _Night ladies_ some, of which Habundia queen.
     _Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels,_ p. 507.

[Footnote A: Indeed, many of the vulgar account it extremely dangerous
to touch any thing, which they may happen to find, without _saining_
(blessing) it, the snares of the enemy being notorious and well
attested. A poor woman of Tiviotdale, having been fortunate enough, as
she thought herself, to find a wooden beetle, at the very time when
she needed such an implement, seized it without pronouncing the proper
blessing, and, carrying it home, laid it above her bed, to be ready
for employment in the morning. At midnight, the window of her cottage
opened, and a loud voice was heard, calling upon some one within, by a
strange and uncouth name, which I have forgotten. The terrified cottager
ejaculated a prayer, which, we may suppose, insured her personal
safety; while the enchanted implement of housewifery, tumbling from the
bed-stead, departed by the window with no small noise and precipitation.
In a humorous fugitive tract, the late Dr Johnson is introduced as
disputing the authenticity of an apparition, merely because the spirit
assumed the shape of a tea-pot, and of a shoulder of mutton. No doubt,
a case so much in point, as that we have now quoted, would have removed
his incredulity.]

The following Frisian superstition, related by Schott, in his _Physica
Curiosa_, p. 362, on the authority of Cornelius a Kempen, coincides more
accurately with the popular opinions concerning the Fairies, than even
the _dracae_ of Gervase, or the water-spirits of Thomas Heywood.--"In
the time of the emperor Lotharius, in 830," says he, "many spectres
infested Frieseland, particularly the white nymphs of the ancients,
which the moderns denominate _witte wiven_, who inhabited a
subterraneous cavern, formed in a wonderful manner, without human art,
on the top of a lofty mountain. These were accustomed to surprise
benighted travellers, shepherds watching their herds and flocks, and
women newly delivered, with their children; and convey them into their
caverns, from which subterranean murmurs, the cries of children, the
groans and lamentations of men, and sometimes imperfect words, and all
kinds of musical sounds, were heard to proceed." The same superstition
is detailed by Bekker, in his _World Bewitch'd_, p. 196, of the English
translation. As the different classes of spirits were gradually
confounded, the abstraction of children seems to have been chiefly
ascribed to the elves, or Fairies; yet not so entirely, as to exclude
hags and witches from the occasional exertion of their ancient
privilege.--In Germany, the same confusion of classes has not taken
place. In the beautiful ballads of the _Erl King_, the _Water King_, and
the _Mer-Maid_, we still recognize the ancient traditions of the Goths,
concerning the _wald-elven_, and the _dracae_.

A similar superstition, concerning abstraction by daemons, seems, in
the time of Gervase of Tilbury, to have pervaded the greatest part of
Europe. "In Catalonia," says that author, "there is a lofty mountain,
named Cavagum, at the foot of which runs a river with golden sands, in
the vicinity of which there are likewise mines of silver. This mountain
is steep, and almost inaccessible. On its top, which is always covered
with ice and snow, is a black and bottomless lake, into which if a
stone be thrown, a tempest suddenly rises; and near this lake, though
invisible to men, is the porch of the palace of daemons. In a town
adjacent to this mountain, named Junchera, lived one Peter de Cabinam.
Being one day teazed with the fretfulness of his young daughter, he, in
his impatience, suddenly wished that the devil might take her; when she
was immediately borne away by the spirits. About seven years afterwards,
an inhabitant of the same city, passing by the mountain, met a man, who
complained bitterly of the burthen he was constantly forced to bear.
Upon enquiring the cause of his complaining, as he did not seem to carry
any load, the man related, that he had been unwarily devoted to the
spirits by an execration, and that they now employed him constantly as
a vehicle of burthen. As a proof of his assertion, he added, that the
daughter of his fellow-citizen was detained by the spirits, but that
they were willing to restore her, if her father would come and demand
her on the mountain. Peter de Cabinam, on being informed of this,
ascended the mountain to the lake, and, in the name of God, demanded his
daughter; when, a tall, thin, withered figure, with wandering eyes, and
almost bereft of understanding, was wafted to him in a blast of wind.
After some time, the person, who had been employed as the vehicle of the
spirits, also returned, when he related where the palace of the spirits
was situated; but added, that none were permitted to enter but those who
devoted themselves entirely to the spirits; those, who had been rashly
committed to the devil by others, being only permitted, during their
probation, to enter the porch." It may be proper to observe, that the
superstitious idea, concerning the lake on the top of the mountain, is
common to almost every high hill in Scotland. Wells, or pits, on the
top of high hills, were likewise supposed to lead to the subterranean
habitations of the Fairies. Thus, Gervase relates, (p. 975), "that he
was informed the swine-herd of William Peverell, an English baron,
having lost a brood-sow, descended through a deep abyss, in the middle
of an ancient ruinous castle, situated on the top of a hill, called
Bech, in search of it. Though a violent wind commonly issued from
this pit, he found it calm; and pursued his way, till he arrived at a
subterraneous region, pleasant and cultivated, with reapers cutting down
corn, though the snow remained on the surface of the ground above. Among
the ears of corn he discovered his sow, and was permitted to ascend with
her, and the pigs which she had farrowed." Though the author seems to
think that the inhabitants of this cave might be Antipodes, yet, as
many such stories are related of the Fairies, it is probable that this
narration is of the same kind. Of a similar nature seems to be another
superstition, mentioned by the same author, concerning the ringing of
invisible bells, at the hour of one, in a field in the vicinity of
Carleol, which, as he relates, was denominated _Laikibraine_, or _Lai ki
brait_. From all these tales, we may perhaps be justified in supposing,
that the faculties and habits ascribed to the Fairies, by the
superstition of latter days, comprehended several, originally attributed
to other classes of inferior spirits.

III. The notions, arising from the spirit of chivalry, combined to add
to the Fairies certain qualities, less atrocious, indeed, but equally
formidable, with those which they derived from the last mentioned
source, and alike inconsistent with the powers of the _duergar_, whom
we may term their primitive prototype. From an early period, the daring
temper of the northern tribes urged them to defy even the supernatural
powers. In the days of Caesar, the Suevi were described, by their
countrymen, as a people, with whom the immortal gods dared not venture
to contend. At a later period, the historians of Scandinavia paint their
heroes and champions, not as bending at the altar of their deities, but
wandering into remote forests and caverns, descending into the recesses
of the tomb, and extorting boons, alike from gods and daemons, by dint
of the sword, and battle-axe. I will not detain the reader by quoting
instances, in which heaven is thus described as having been literally
attempted by storm. He may consult Saxo, Olaus Wormius, Olaus Magnus,
Torfaeus, Bartholin, and other northern antiquaries. With such ideas of
superior beings, the Normans, Saxons, and other Gothic tribes, brought
their ardent courage to ferment yet more highly in the genial climes of
the south, and under the blaze of romantic chivalry. Hence, during the
dark ages, the invisible world was modelled after the material; and the
saints, to the protection of whom the knights-errant were accustomed to
recommend themselves, were accoutered like _preux chevaliers_, by the
ardent imaginations of their votaries. With such ideas concerning the
inhabitants of the celestial regions, we ought not to be surprised to
find the inferior spirits, of a more dubious nature and origin, equipped
in the same disguise. Gervase of Tilbury (_Otia Imperial, ap. Script,
rer. Brunsvic,_ Vol. I. p. 797.) relates the following popular story
concerning a Fairy Knight. "Osbert, a bold and powerful baron, visited
a noble family in the vicinity of Wandlebury, in the bishopric of Ely.
Among other stories related in the social circle of his friends, who,
according to custom, amused each other by repeating ancient tales and
traditions, he was informed, that if any knight, unattended, entered an
adjacent plain by moon-light, and challenged an adversary to appear, he
would be immediately encountered by a spirit in the form of a knight.
Osbert resolved to make the experiment, and set out, attended by a
single squire, whom he ordered to remain without the limits of the
plain, which was surrounded by an ancient entrenchment. On repeating the
challenge, he was instantly assailed by an adversary, whom he quickly
unhorsed, and seized the reins of his steed. During this operation, his
ghostly opponent sprung up, and, darting his spear, like a javelin, at
Osbert, wounded him in the thigh. Osbert returned in triumph with the
horse, which he committed to the care of his servants. The horse was of
a sable colour, as well as his whole accoutrements, and apparently of
great beauty and vigour. He remained with his keeper till cock-crowing,
when, with eyes flashing fire, he reared, spurned the ground, and
vanished. On disarming himself, Osbert perceived that he was wounded,
and that one of his steel boots was full of blood. Gervase adds,
that, as long as he lived, the scar of his wound opened afresh on the
anniversary of the eve on which he encountered the spirit."[A] Less
fortunate was the gallant Bohemian knight, who, travelling by night,
with a single companion, came in sight of a fairy host, arrayed under
displayed banners. Despising the remonstrances of his friend, the knight
pricked forward to break a lance with a champion who advanced from
the ranks, apparently in defiance. His companion beheld the Bohemian
over-thrown horse and man, by his aërial adversary; and, returning to
the spot next morning, he found the mangled, corpse of the knight and
steed.--_Hierarchie of Blessed Angels,_ p. 554.

[Footnote A: The unfortunate Chatterton was not, probably, acquainted
with Gervase of Tilbury; yet he seems to allude, in the _Battle of
Hastings_, to some modification of Sir Osbert's adventure:

  So who they be that ouphant fairies strike,
  Their souls shall wander to King Offa's dike.

The entrenchment, which served as lists for the combatants, is said by
Gervase to have been the work of the pagan invaders of Britain. In the
metrical romance of _Arthour and Merlin_, we have also an account of
Wandlesbury being occupied by the Sarasins, i.e. the Saxons; for all
pagans were Saracens with the romancers. I presume the place to have
been Wodnesbury, in Wiltshire, situated on the remarkable mound,
called Wansdike, which is obviously a Saxon work.--GOUGH'S _Cambden's
Britannia,_ pp. 87--95.]

To the same current of warlike ideas, we may safely attribute the
long train of military processions which the Fairies are supposed
occasionally to exhibit. The elves, indeed, seem in this point to be
identified with the aërial host, termed, during the middle ages, the
_Milites Herlikini_, or _Herleurini_, celebrated by Pet. Blesensis,
and termed, in the life of St Thomas of Canterbury, the _Familia
Helliquinii_. The chief of this band was originally a gallant knight and
warrior; but, having spent his whole possessions in the service of the
emperor, and being rewarded with scorn, and abandoned to subordinate
oppression, he became desperate, and, with his sons and followers,
formed a band of robbers. After committing many ravages, and defeating
all the forces sent against him, Hellequin, with his whole troop, fell
in a bloody engagement with the Imperial host. His former good life was
supposed to save him from utter reprobation; but he and his followers
were condemned, after death, to a state of wandering, which should
endure till the last day. Retaining their military habits, they were
usually seen in the act of justing together, or in similar warlike
employments. See the ancient French romance of _Richard sans Peur_.
Similar to this was the _Nacht Lager_, or midnight camp, which seemed
nightly to beleaguer the walls of Prague,

  "With ghastly faces thronged, and fiery arms,"

but which disappeared upon recitation of the magical words, _Vezelé,
Vezelé, ho! ho! ho!_--For similar delusions, see DELRIUS, pp. 294, 295.

The martial spirit of our ancestors led them to defy these aërial
warriors; and it is still currently believed, that he, who has courage
to rush upon a fairy festival, and snatch from them their drinking cup,
or horn, shall find it prove to him a cornucopia of good fortune, if he
can bear it in safety across a running stream. Such a horn is said to
have been presented to Henry I. by a lord of Colchester.--GERVAS TILB.
p. 980. A goblet is still carefully preserved in Edenhall, Cumberland,
which is supposed to have been seized at a banquet of the elves, by one
of the ancient family of Musgrave; or, as others say, by one of their
domestics, in the manner above described. The Fairy train vanished,
crying aloud,

  If this glass do break or fall,
  Farewell the luck of Edenhall!

The goblet took a name from the prophecy, under which it is mentioned,
in the burlesque ballad, commonly attributed to the duke of Wharton, but
in reality composed by Lloyd, one of his jovial companions. The duke,
after taking a draught, had nearly terminated the "luck of Edenhall,"
had not the butler caught the cup in a napkin, as it dropped from his
grace's hands. I understand it is not now subjected to such risques, but
the lees of wine are still apparent at the bottom.

  God prosper long, from being broke,
   The luck of Edenhall.--_Parody on Chevy Chace._

Some faint traces yet remain, on the borders, of a conflict of a
mysterious and terrible nature, between mortals and the spirits of the
wilds. This superstition is incidentally alluded to by Jackson, at the
beginning of the 17th century. The fern seed, which is supposed to
become visible only on St John's Eve,[A] and at the very moment when
the Baptist was born, is held by the vulgar to be under the special
protection of the queen of Faëry. But, as the seed was supposed to have
the quality of rendering the possessor invisible at pleasure,[B] and to
be also of sovereign use in charms and incantations, persons of courage,
addicted to these mysterious arts, were wont to watch in solitude, to
gather it at the moment when it should become visible. The particular
charms, by which they fenced themselves during this vigil, are now
unknown; but it was reckoned a feat of no small danger, as the person
undertaking it was exposed to the most dreadful assaults from spirits,
who dreaded the effect of this powerful herb in the hands of a cabalist.
Such were the shades, which the original superstition, concerning the.
Fairies, received from the chivalrous sentiments of the middle ages.

[Footnote A:

  Ne'er be I found by thee unawed,
  On that thrice hallowed eve abroad,
  When goblins haunt, from fire and fen.
  And wood and lake, the steps of men.
      COLLINS'S _Ode to Fear._

The whole history of St John the Baptist was, by our ancestors,
accounted mysterious, and connected with their own superstitions.
The fairy queen was sometimes identified with Herodias.--DELRII
_Disquisitiones Magicae,_ pp. 168. 807. It is amusing to observe with
what gravity the learned Jesuit contends, that it is heresy to believe
that this celebrated figurante (_saltatricula_) still leads choral
dances upon earth!]

[Footnote B: This is alluded to by Shakespeare, and other authors of his
time:

  "We have the receipt of _fern-seed_; we walk invisible."
      _Henry IV. Part 1st, Act 2d, Sc. 3_.]

IV. An absurd belief in the fables of classical antiquity lent an
additional feature to the character of the woodland spirits of whom we
treat. Greece and Rome had not only assigned tutelary deities to each
province and city, but had peopled, with peculiar spirits, the Seas, the
Rivers, the Woods, and the Mountains. The memory of the pagan creed was
not speedily eradicated, in the extensive provinces through which it was
once universally received; and, in many particulars, it continued long
to mingle with, and influence, the original superstitions of the Gothic
nations. Hence, we find the elves occasionally arrayed in the costume of
Greece and Rome, and the Fairy Queen and her attendants transformed into
Diana and her nymphs, and invested with their attributes and appropriate
insignia.--DELRIUS, pp. 168, 807. According to the same author, the
Fairy Queen was also called _Habundia_. Like Diana, who, in one
capacity, was denominated _Hecate_, the goddess of enchantment, the
Fairy Queen is identified in popular tradition, with the _Gyre-Carline,
Gay Carline_, or mother witch, of the Scottish peasantry. Of this
personage, as an individual, we have but few notices. She is sometimes
termed _Nicneven_, and is mentioned in the _Complaynt of Scotland_, by
Lindsay in his _Dreme_, p. 225, edit. 1590, and in his _Interludes_,
apud PINKERTON'S _Scottish Poems_, Vol. II. p. 18. But the traditionary
accounts regarding her are too obscure to admit of explanation. In the
burlesque fragment subjoined, which is copied from the Bannatyne MS. the
Gyre Carline is termed the _Queen of Jowis_ (Jovis, or perhaps Jews),
and is, with great consistency, married to Mohammed.[A]


[Footnote A:

  In Tyberius tyme, the trew imperatour,
  Quhen Tynto hills fra skraipiug of toun-henis was keipit,
  Thair dwelt are grit Gyre Carling in awld Betokis bour,
  That levit upoun Christiane menis flesche, and rewheids unleipit;
  Thair wynit ane hir by, on the west syde, callit Blasour,
  For luve of hir lanchane lippis, he walit and he weipit;
  He gadderit are menzie of modwartis to warp doun the tour:
  The Carling with are yren club, quhen yat Blasour sleipit,
     Behind the heil scho hat him sic ane blaw,
     Quhil Blasour bled ane quart
     Off milk pottage inwart,
     The Carling luche, and lut fart
       North Berwik Law.

  The king of fary than come, with elfis many ane,
  And sett are sege, and are salt, with grit pensallis of pryd;
  And all the doggis fra Dunbar wes thair to Dumblane,
  With all the tykis of Tervey, come to thame that tyd;
  Thay quelle doune with thair gonnes mony grit stane,
  The Carling schup hir on ane sow, and is her gaitis gane,
  Grunting our the Greik sie, and durst na langer byd,
  For bruklyng of bargane, and breikhig of browis:
     The Carling now for dispyte
     Is maieit with Mahomyte,
     And will the doggis interdyte,
       For scho is queue of Jowis.

  Sensyne the cockis of Crawmound crew nevir at day,
  For dule of that devillisch deme wes with Mahoun mareit,
  And the henis of Hadingtoun sensyne wald not lay,
  For this wild wibroun wich thame widlit sa and wareit;
  And the same North Berwik Law, as I heir wyvis say,
  This Carling, with a fals east, wald away careit;
  For to luck on quha sa lykis, na langer scho tareit:
  All this languor for love before tymes fell,
     Lang or Betok was born,
     Scho bred of ane accorne;
     The laif of the story to morne,
       To you I sall telle.]

But chiefly in Italy were traced many dim characters of ancient
mythology, in the creed of tradition. Thus, so lately as 1536, Vulcan,
with twenty of his Cyclops, is stated to have presented himself suddenly
to a Spanish merchant, travelling in the night, through the forests of
Sicily; an apparition, which was followed by a dreadful eruption of
Mount Aetna.--_Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels,_ p. 504 Of this
singular mixture, the reader will find a curious specimen in the
following tale, wherein the Venus of antiquity assumes the manners of
one of the Fays, or Fatae, of romance. "In the year 1058, a young man
of noble birth had been married at Rome, and, during the period of his
nuptial feast, having gone with his companions to play at ball, he put
his marriage ring on the finger of a broken statue of Venus in the area,
to remain, while he was engaged in the recreation. Desisting from the
exercise, he found the finger, on which he had put his ring, contracted
firmly against the palm, and attempted in vain either to break it, or to
disengage his ring. He concealed the circumstance from his companions,
and returned at night with a servant, when he found the finger extended,
and his ring gone. He dissembled the loss, and returned to his wife;
but, whenever he attempted to embrace her, he found himself prevented
by something dark and dense, which was tangible, though not visible,
interposing between them; and he heard a voice saying, 'Embrace me! for
I am Venus, whom this day you wedded, and I will not restore your ring.'
As this was constantly repeated, he consulted his relations, who had
recourse to Palumbus, a priest, skilled in necromancy. He directed the
young man to go, at a certain hour of night, to a spot among the ruins
of ancient Rome, where four roads met, and wait silently till he saw a
company pass by, and then, without uttering a word, to deliver a letter,
which he gave him, to a majestic being, who rode in a chariot, after the
rest of the company. The young man did as he was directed; and saw a
company of all ages, sexes, and ranks, on horse and on foot, some joyful
and others sad, pass along; among whom he distinguished a woman in a
meretricious dress, who, from the tenuity of her garments, seemed
almost naked. She rode on a mule; her long hair, which flowed over her
shoulders, was bound with a golden fillet; and in her hand was a golden
rod, with which she directed her mule. In the close of the procession,
a tall majestic figure appeared in a chariot, adorned with emeralds
and pearls, who fiercely asked the young man, 'What he did there?' He
presented the letter in silence, which the daemon dared not refuse.
As soon as he had read, lifting up his hands to heaven, he exclaimed,
'Almighty God! how long wilt thou endure the iniquities of the sorcerer
Palumbus!' and immediately dispatched some of his attendants, who, with
much difficulty, extorted the ring from Venus, and restored it to
its owner, whose infernal banns were thus dissolved."--FORDUNI
_Scotichronicon,_ Vol. I. p. 407, _cura_ GOODALL.

But it is rather in the classical character of an infernal deity, that
the elfin queen may be considered, than as _Hecate_, the patroness of
magic; for not only in the romance writers, but even in Chaucer, are the
Fairies identified with the ancient inhabitants of the classical hell.
Thus Chaucer, in his _Marchand's Tale_, mentions

  Pluto that is king of fayrie--and
  Proserpine and all her fayrie.

In the _Golden Terge_ of Dunbar, the same phraseology is adopted: Thus,

  Thair was Pluto that elricke incubus
  In cloke of grene, his court usit in sable.

Even so late as 1602, in Harsenet's _Declaration of Popish Imposture,_
p. 57, Mercury is called _Prince of the Fairies._

But Chaucer, and those poets who have adopted his phraseology, have only
followed the romance writers; for the same substitution occurs in the
romance of _Orfeo and Heurodis_, in which the story of Orpheus and
Eurydice is transformed into a beautiful romantic tale of faëry, and
the Gothic mythology engrafted on the fables of Greece. _Heurodis_ is
represented as wife of _Orfeo_, and queen of Winchester, the ancient
name of which city the romancer, with unparalleled ingenuity, discovers
to have been Traciens, or Thrace. The monarch, her husband, had a
singular genealogy:

  His fader was comen of King Pluto,
  And his moder of King Juno;
  That sum time were as godes y-holde,
  For aventours that thai dede and tolde.

Reposing, unwarily, at noon, under the shade of an ymp tree,[A]
_Heurodis_ dreams that she is accosted by the King of Fairies,

  With an hundred knights and mo,
  And damisels an hundred also,
  Al on snowe white stedes;
  As white as milke were her wedes;
  Y no seigh never yete bifore,
  So fair creatours y-core:
  The kinge hadde a croun on hed,
  It nas of silver, no of golde red,
  Ac it was of a precious ston:
  As bright as the sonne it schon.

[Footnote A: _Ymp tree_--According to the general acceptation, this only
signifies a grafted tree; whether it should he here understood to mean a
tree consecrated to the imps, or fairies, is left with the reader.]

The King of Fairies, who had obtained power over the queen, perhaps from
her sleeping at noon in his domain, orders her, under the penalty of
being torn to pieces, to await him to-morrow under the ymp tree, and
accompany him to Fairy-Land. She relates her dream to her husband, who
resolves to accompany her, and attempt her rescue:

  A morwe the under tide is come,
  And Orfeo hath his armes y-nome,
  And wele ten hundred knights with him,
  Ich y-armed stout and grim;
  And with the quen wenten he,
  Right upon that ympe tre.
  Thai made scheltrom in iche aside,
  And sayd thai wold there abide,
  And dye ther everichon,
  Er the qeun schuld fram hem gon:
  Ac yete amiddes hem ful right,
  The quen was oway y-twight,
  With Fairi forth y-nome,
  Men wizt never wher sche was become.

After this fatal catastrophe, _Orfeo_, distracted for the loss of
his queen, abandons his throne, and, with his harp, retires into a
wilderness, where he subjects himself to every kind of austerity, and
attracts the wild beasts by the pathetic melody of his harp. His state
of desolation is poetically described:

  He that werd the fowe and griis,
  And on bed the purpur biis,
  Now on bard hethe he lith.
  With leves and gresse he him writh:
  He that had castells and tours,
  Rivers, forests, frith with flowrs.
  Now thei it commence to snewe and freze,
  This king mot make his bed in mese:
  He that had y-had knightes of priis,
  Bifore him kneland and leuedis,
  Now seth he no thing that him liketh,
  Bot wild wormes bi him striketh:
  He that had y-had plente
  Of mete and drinke, of ich deynte,
  Now may he al daye digge and wrote,
  Er he find his fille of rote.
  In sorner he liveth bi wild fruit,
  And verien hot gode lite.
  In winter may he no thing find,
  Bot rotes, grases, and the rinde.

         *       *       *       *       *

  His here of his herd blac and rowe,
  To his girdel stede was growe;
  His harp, whereon was al his gle,
  He hidde in are holwe tre:
  And, when the weder was clere and bright,
  He toke his harpe to him wel right,
  And harped at his owen will,
  Into al the wode the soun gan shill,
  That al the wild bestes that ther beth
  For joie abouten him thai teth;
  And al the foules that ther wer,
  Come and sete on ich a brere,
  To here his harping a fine,
  So miche melody was therein.

At last he discovers, that he is not the sole inhabitant of this desart;
for

  He might se him besides
  Oft in hot undertides,
  The king of Fairi, with his route,
  Come to hunt him al about,
  With dim cri and bloweing,
  And houndes also with him berking;
  Ac no best thai no nome,
  No never he nist whider thai bi come.
  And other while he might hem se
  As a gret ost bi him te,
  Well atourued ten hundred knightes,
  Ich y-armed to his rightes,
  Of cuntenance stout and fers,
  With mani desplaid baners;
  And ich his sword y-drawe hold,
  Ac never he nist whider thai wold.
  And otherwhile he seighe other thing;
  Knightis and lenedis com daunceing,
  In queynt atire gisely,
  Queyete pas and softlie:
  Tabours and trumpes gede hem bi,
  And al mauer menstraci.--
  And on a day he seighe him biside,
  Sexti leuedis on hors ride,
  Gentil and jolif as brid on ris;
  Nought o man amonges hem ther nis;
  And ich a faucoun on bond bere,
  And riden on hauken bi o river.
  Of game thai found wel gode haunt,
  Maulardes, hayroun, and cormoraunt;
  The foules of the water ariseth,
  Ich faucoun hem wele deviseth,
  Ich fancoun his pray slough,
  That seize Orfeo and lough.
  "Par fay," quoth he, "there is fair game,
  "Hider Ichil bi Godes name,
  "Ich was y won swich work to se:"
  He aros, and thider gan te;
  To a leuedie hi was y-come,
  Bihelde, and hath wel under nome,
  And seth, bi al thing, that is
  His owen quen, dam Heurodis;
  Gern hi biheld her, and sche him eke,
  Ac nouther to other a word no speke:
  For messais that sche on him seighe,
  That had ben so riche and so heighe,
  The teres fel out of her eighe;
  The other leuedis this y seighe,
  And maked hir oway to ride,
  Sche most with him no longer obide.
  "Allas!" quoth he, "nowe is mi woe,
  "Whi nil deth now me slo;
  "Allas! to long last mi liif,
  "When y no dare nought with mi wif,
  "Nor hye to me o word speke;
  "Allas whi nil miin hert breke!
  "Par fay," quoth he, "tide what betide,
  "Whider so this leuedis ride,
  "The selve way Ichil streche;
  "Of liif, no dethe, me no reche.

In consequence, therefore, of this discovery _Orfeo_ pursues the hawking
damsels, among whom he has descried his lost queen. They enter a rock,
the king continues the pursuit, and arrives at Fairy-Land, of which the
following very poetical description is given:

  In at roche the leuedis rideth,
  And he after and nought abideth;
  When he was in the roche y-go,
  Wele thre mile other mo,
  He com into a fair cuntray,
  As bright soonne somers day,
  Smothe and plain and al grene,
  Hill no dale nas none ysene,
  Amiddle the loud a castel he seighe,
  Rich and reale and wonder heighe;
  Al the utmast wal
  Was cler and schine of cristal;
  An hundred tours ther were about,
  Degiselich and bataild stout;
  The butrass come out of the diche,
  Of rede gold y-arched riche;
  The bousour was anowed al,
  Of ich maner deuers animal;
  Within ther wer wide wones
  Al of precious stones,
  The werss piler onto biholde,
  Was al of burnist gold:
  Al that loud was ever light,
  For when it schuld be therk and night,
  The riche stonnes light gonne,
  Bright as doth at nonne the sonne
  No man may tel, no thenke in thought.
  The riche werk that ther was rought.

         *       *       *       *       *

    Than he gan biholde about al,
  And seighe ful liggeand with in the wal,
  Of folk that wer thidder y-brought,
  And thought dede and nere nought;
  Sum stode with outen hadde;
  And some none armes nade;
  And sum thurch the bodi hadde wounde;
  And sum lay wode y-bounde;
  And sum armed on hors sete;
  And sum astrangled as thai ete;
  And sum war in water adreynt;
  And sum with fire al for schreynt;
  Wives ther lay on childe bedde;
  Sum dede, and sum awedde;
  And wonder fere ther lay besides,
  Right as thai slepe her undertides;
  Eche was thus in this warld y-nome,
  With fairi thider y-come.[A]
  There he seize his owhen wiif,
  Dame Heurodis, his liif liif,
  Slepe under an ympe tree:
  Bi her clothes he knewe that it was he,
    And when he had bihold this mervalis alle,
  He went into the kinges halle;
  Then seigh he there a semly sight,
  A tabernacle blisseful and bright;
  Ther in her maister king sete,
  And her quen fair and swete;
  Her crounes, her clothes schine so bright,
  That unnethe bihold he hem might.
      _Orfeo and Heurodis, MS._

[Footnote A: It was perhaps from such a description that Ariosto adopted
his idea of the Lunar Paradise, containing every thing that on earth was
stolen or lost.]

_Orfeo_, as a minstrel, so charms the Fairy King with the music of
his harp, that he promises to grant him whatever he should ask. He
immediately demands his lost _Heurodis_; and, returning safely with
her to Winchester, resumes his authority; a catastrophe, less pathetic
indeed, but more pleasing, than that of the classical story. The
circumstances, mentioned in this romantic legend, correspond very
exactly with popular tradition. Almost all the writers on daemonology
mention, as a received opinion that the power of the daemons is most
predominant at noon and midnight. The entrance to the Land of Faëry is
placed in the wilderness; a circumstance, which coincides with a passage
in Lindsay's _Complaint of the Papingo:_

  Bot sen my spreit mon from my bodye go,
  I recommend it to the queue of Fary,
  Eternally into her court to tarry
  In _wilderness_ amang the holtis hair.
      LINDSAY'S _Works_, 1592, p. 222.

Chaucer also agrees, in this particular, with our romancer:

  In his sadel he clombe anon,
  And priked over stile and ston,
   An elf quene for to espie;
  Til he so long had riden and gone
  That he fond in a privie wone
   The countree of Faërie.

  Wherein he soughte north and south,
  And often spired with his mouth,
   In many a foreste wilde;
  For in that countree nas ther non,
  That to him dorst ride or gon,
   Neither wif ne childe.
      _Rime of Sir Thopas._

V. Other two causes, deeply affecting the superstition of which we
treat, remain yet to be noticed. The first is derived from the Christian
religion, which admits only of two classes of spirits, exclusive of the
souls of men--Angels, namely, and Devils. This doctrine had a necessary
tendency to abolish the distinction among subordinate spirits, which had
been introduced by the superstitions of the Scandinavians. The existence
of the Fairies was readily admitted; but, as they had no pretensions to
the angelic character, they were deemed to be of infernal origin. The
union, also, which had been formed betwixt the elves and the Pagan
deities, was probably of disservice to the former; since every one
knows, that the whole synod of Olympus were accounted daemons.

The fulminations of the church were, therefore, early directed against
those, who consulted or consorted with the Fairies; and, according to
the inquisitorial logic, the innocuous choristers of Oberon and Titania
were, without remorse, confounded with the sable inhabitants of the
orthodox Gehennim; while the rings, which marked their revels, were
assimilated to the blasted sward on which the witches held their
infernal sabbath.--_Delrii Disq. Mag._ p. 179. This transformation early
took place; for, among the many crimes for which the famous Joan of Arc
was called upon to answer, it was not the least heinous, that she
had frequented the Tree and Fountain, near Dompré, which formed the
rendezvous of the Fairies, and bore their name; that she had joined in
the festive dance with the elves, who haunted this charmed spot; had
accepted of their magical bouquets, and availed herself of their
talismans, for the delivery of her country.--_Vide Acta Judiciaria
contra Johannam D'Arceam, vulgo vocutam Johanne la Pucelle._

The Reformation swept away many of the corruptions of the church of
Rome; but the purifying torrent remained itself somewhat tinctured by
the superstitious impurities of the soil over which it had passed. The
trials of sorcerers and witches, which disgrace our criminal records,
become even more frequent after the Reformation of the church; as if
human credulity, no longer amused by the miracles of Rome, had sought
for food in the traditionary records of popular superstition. A Judaical
observation of the precepts of the Old Testament also characterized the
Presbyterian reformers. _"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,"_ was
a text, which at once (as they conceived) authorized their belief in
sorcery, and sanctioned the penalty which they denounced against it. The
Fairies were, therefore, in no better credit after the Reformation than
before, being still regarded as actual daemons, or something very little
better. A famous divine, Doctor Jasper Brokeman, teaches us, in his
system of divinity, "that they inhabit in those places that are polluted
with any crying sin, as effusion of blood, or where unbelief or
superstitione have gotten the upper hand."--_Description of Feroe._ The
Fairies being on such bad terms with the divines, those, who pretended
to intercourse with them, were, without scruple, punished as sorcerers;
and such absurd charges are frequently stated as exaggerations of
crimes, in themselves sufficiently heinous.

Such is the case in the trial of the noted Major Weir, and his sister;
where the following mummery interlards a criminal indictment, too
infamously flagitious to be farther detailed: "9th April, 1670. Jean
Weir, indicted of sorceries, committed by her when she lived and kept a
school at Dalkeith: that she took employment from a woman, to speak in
her behalf to the _Queen of Fairii, meaning the Devil_; and that another
woman gave her a piece of a tree, or root, the next day, and did tell
her, that as long as she kept the same, she should be able to do what
she pleased; and that same woman, from whom she got the tree, caused her
spread a cloth before her door, and set her foot upon it, and to repeat
thrice, in the posture foresaid, these words, _'All her losses and
crosses go alongst to the doors,'_ which was truly a consulting with the
devil, and an act of sorcery, &c. That after the spirit, in the shape of
a woman, who gave her the piece of tree, had removed, she, addressing
herself to spinning, and having spun but a short time, found more
yarn upon the pirn than could possibly have come there by good
means."[A]--_Books of Adjournal._

[Footnote A: It is observed in the record, that Major Weir, a man of
the most vicious character, was at the same time ambitious of appearing
eminently godly; and used to frequent the beds of sick persons, to
assist them with his prayers. On such occasions, he put to his mouth
a long staff, which he usually carried, and expressed himself with
uncommon energy and fluency, of which he was utterly incapable when the
inspiring rod was withdrawn. This circumstance, the result, probably, of
a trick or habit, appearing suspicious to the judges, the staff of the
sorcerer was burned along with his person. One hundred and thirty years
have elapsed since his execution, yet no one has, during that space,
ventured to inhabit the house of this celebrated criminal.]

Neither was the judgment of the criminal court of Scotland less severe
against another familiar of the Fairies, whose supposed correspondence
with the court of Elfland seems to have constituted the sole crime, for
which she was burned alive. Her name was Alison Pearson, and she seems
to have been a very noted person. In a bitter satire against Adamson,
Bishop of St Andrews, he is accused of consulting with sorcerers,
particularly with this very woman; and an account is given of her
travelling through Breadalbane, in the company of the Queen of Faëry,
and of her descrying, in the court of Elfland, many persons, who had
been supposed at rest in the peaceful grave.[A] Among these we find two
remarkable personages; the secretary, young Maitland of Lethington, and
one of the old lairds of Buccleuch. The cause of their being stationed
in Elfland probably arose from the manner of their decease; which, being
uncommon and violent, caused the vulgar to suppose that they had been
abstracted by the Fairies. Lethington, as is generally supposed, died a
Roman death during his imprisonment in Leith; and the Buccleuch, whom I
believe to be here meant, was slain in a nocturnal scuffle by the Kerrs,
his hereditary enemies. Besides, they were both attached to the cause
of Queen Mary, and to the ancient religion; and were thence, probably,
considered as more immediately obnoxious to the assaults of the powers
of darkness.[B] The indictment of Alison Pearson notices her intercourse
with the Archbishop of St Andrews, and contains some particulars, worthy
of notice, regarding the court of Elfland. It runs thus: "28th May,
1586. Alison Pearson, in Byrehill, convicted of witchcraft, and of
consulting with evil spirits, in the form of one Mr William Simpsone,
her cosin, who she affirmed was a gritt schollar, and doctor of
medicine, that healed her of her diseases when she was twelve years of
age; having lost the power of her syde, and having a familiaritie with
him for divers years, dealing with charms, and abuseing the common
people by her arts of witchcraft, thir divers years by-past.

[Footnote A:

  For oght the kirk culd him forbid,
  He sped him sone, and gat the thrid;
  Ane carling of the quene of Phareis,
  That ewill win geir to elpliyne careis;
  Through all Brade Abane scho has bene,
  On horsbak on Hallow ewin;
  And ay in seiking certayne nightis,
  As scho sayis with sur silly wychirs:
  And names out nybours sex or sewin,
  That we belevit had bene in heawin;
  Scho said scho saw theme weill aneugh,
  And speciallie gude auld Balcleuch,
  The secretar, and sundrie uther:
  Ane William Symsone, her mother brother,
  Whom fra scho has resavit a buike
  For ony herb scho likes to luke;
  It will instruct her how to tak it,
  In saws and sillubs how to mak it;
  With stones that meikle mair can doe,
  In leich craft, where scho lays them toe:
  A thousand maladeis scho hes mendit;
  Now being tane, and apprehendit,
  Scho being in the bischopis cure,
  And keipit in his castle sure,
  Without respect of worldlie glamer,
  He past into the witches chalmer.
      _Scottish Poems of XVI. Century,_ Edin. 1801,
      Vol. II, p. 320.]

[Footnote B: Buccleuch was a violent enemy to the English, by whom his
lands had been repeatedly plundered (See _Introduction,_ p. xxvi), and
a great advocate for the marriage betwixt Mary and the dauphin, 1549.
According to John Knox, he had recourse even to threats, in urging the
parliament to agree to the French match. "The laird of Buccleuch," says
the Reformer, "a bloody man, with many Gods wounds, swore, they that
would not consent should do worse."]

"_Item,_ For banting and repairing with the gude neighbours, and queene
of Elfland, thir divers years by-past, as she had confest; and that she
had friends in that court, which were of her own blude, who had gude
acquaintance of the queene of Elfland, which might have helped her; but
she was whiles well, and whiles ill, sometimes with them, a'nd other
times away frae them; and that she would be in her bed haille and feire,
and would not wytt where she would be the morn; and that she saw not the
queene this seven years, and that she was seven years ill handled in the
court of Elfland; that, however, she kad gude friends there, and that
it was the gude neighbours that healed her, under God; and that she was
comeing and going to St Andrews to haile folkes thir many years past.

"_Item,_ Convict of the said act of witchcraft, in as far as she confest
that the said Mr William Sympsoune, who was her guidsir sone, born in
Stirleing, who was the king's smith, who, when about eight years of age,
was taken away by ane Egyptian to Egypt; which Egyptian was a gyant,
where he remained twelve years, "and then came home.

"_Item,_ That she being in Grange Muir, with some other folke, she,
being sick, lay downe; and, when alone, there came a man to her, clad in
green, who said to her, if she would be faithful, he would do her good;
but she, being feared, cried out, but naebodye came to her; so she said,
if he came in God's name, and for the gude of her saule, it was well;
but he gaid away: that he appeared to her another tyme like a lustie
man, and many men and women with him; that, at seeing him, she signed
herself and prayed, and past with them, and saw them making merrie with
pypes, and gude cheir and wine, and that she was carried with them; and
that when she telled any of these things, she was sairlie tormentit by
them; and that the first time she gaed with them, she gat a sair straike
frae one of them, which took all the _poustie_[A] of her syde frae her,
and left ane ill-far'd mark on her syde.

"_Item,_ That she saw the gude neighbours make their sawes[B] with panns
and fyres, and that they gathered the herbs before the sun was up, and
they came verie fearful sometimes to her, and flaide[C] her very sair,
which made her cry, and threatened they would use her worse than before;
and, at last, they took away the power of her haile syde frae her, which
made her lye many weeks. Sometimes they would come and sitt by her, and
promise all that she should never want if she would be faithful, but if
she would speak and telle of them, they should murther her; and that Mr
William Sympsoune is with them, who healed her, and telt her all things;
that he is a young man not six years older than herself, and that he
will appear to her before the court comes; that he told her he was taken
away by them, and he bidd her sign herself that she be not taken away,
for the teind of them are tane to hell everie year.

[Footnote A: _Poustie_--Power.]

[Footnote B: _Sawes_--Salves.]

[Footnote C: _Flaide_--Scared.]

"_Item,_ That the said Mr William told her what herbs were fit to cure
every disease, and how to use them; and particularlie tauld, that the
Bishop of St Andrews laboured under sindrie diseases, sic as the riples,
trembling, feaver, flux, &c. and bade her make a sawe, and anoint
several parts of his body therewith, and gave directions for making a
posset, which she made and gave him."

For this idle story the poor woman actually suffered death. Yet,
notwithstanding the fervent arguments thus liberally used by the
orthodox, the common people, though they dreaded even to think or speak
about the Fairies, by no means unanimously acquiesced in the doctrine,
which consigned them to eternal perdition. The inhabitants of the Isle
of Man call them the "_good people_, and say they live in wilds, and
forests, and on mountains, and shun great cities, because of the
wickedness acted therein: 

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