XXII.

Well I ween the charm he held

The noble Ladye had soon dispell'd;
But she was deeply busied then
To tend the wounded Deloraine.

Much she wonder'd to find him lie,

On the stone threshold stretch'd along; She thought some spirit of the sky

Had done the bold moss-trooper wrong; Because, despite her precept dread, Perchance he in the Book had read; But the broken lance in his bosom stood, And it was earthly steel and wood.

XXVI.

The Warder view'd it blazing strong,
And blew his war-note loud and long,
Till, at the high and haughty sound,
Rock, wood, and river, rung around.
The blast alarm'd the festal hall,
And startled forth the warriors all;
Far downward, in the castle-yard,
Full many a torch and cresset glared:
And helms and plumes, confusedly toss'd,
Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost;
And spears in wild disorder shook,
Like reeds beside a frozen brook.

XXIII.

She drew the splinter from the wound,
And with a charm she stanch'd the blood;1
She bade the gash be cleansed and bound:
No longer by his couch she stood;
But she has ta'en the broken lance,

And wash'd it from the clotted gore,
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.?
William of Deloraine, in trance,

Whene'er she turn'd it round and round, Twisted as if she gall'd his wound.

Then to her maidens she did say, That he should be whole man and sound, Within the course of a night and day. Full long she toil'd; for she did rue Mishap to friend so stout and true.

XXIV.

So pass'd the day-the evening fell,
Twas near the time of curfew bell;
The air was mild, the wind was calm,
The stream was smooth, the dew was balm ;
E'en the rude watchman, on the tower,
Enjoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour.
Far more fair Margaret loved and bless'd
The hour of silence and of rest.
On the high turret sitting lone,
She waked at times the lute's soft tone;
Touch'd a wild note, and all between
Thought of the bower of hawthorns green.
Her golden hair stream'd free from band,
Her fair cheek rested on her hand,
Her blue eyes sought the west afar,
For lovers love the western star.

XXV.

Is yon the star, o'er Penchryst Pen,
That rises slowly to her ken,
And, spreading broad its wavering light,
Shakes its loose tresses on the night?
Is yon red glare the western star?-
O, 'tis the beacon-blaze of war!
Scarce could she draw her tighten'd breath,
For well she knew the fire of death!

1 See several charms for this purpose in Reginald Scott's Discovery of Witchcraft, p. 273

"Tom Potts was but a serving man, But yet he was a doctor good;"

He bound his handkerchief on the wound,

And with some kinds of words he stanch'd the blood." Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, Lond. 1791, p. 131. 2 See Note W.

XXVII.

The Seneschal, whose silver hair
Was redden'd by the torches' glare,
Stood in the midst, with gesture proud,
And issued forth his mandates loud :-
"On Penchryst glows a bale of fire,
And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire;
Ride out, ride out,

The foe to scout!

Mount, mount for Branksome,2 every man!
Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan,
That ever are true and stout-
Ye need not send to Liddesdale;
For when they see the blazing bale,
Elliots and Armstrongs never fail. -
Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life!
And warn the Warder of the strife.
Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze,
Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise. 3

XXVIII.

Fair Margaret, from the turret head,
Heard, far below, the coursers' tread,
While loud the harness rung,

As to their seats, with clamour dread,
The ready horsemen sprung:
And trampling hoofs, and iron coats,
And leaders' voices, mingled notes,
And out! and out!
In hasty route,

The horsemen gallop'd forth:
Dispersing to the south to scout,

And east, and west, and north, To view their coming enemies, And warn their vassals and allies.

1 Bale, beacon-fagot. The Border beacons, from their number and position, formed a sort of telegraphic communication with Edinburgh.--The act of Parliament 1455, c. 48, directs, that one ale or fagot shall be warning of the approach of the English in any manner; two bales that they are coming indeed; four bales, blazing beside each other, that the enemy are in great force. "The same taikenings to be watched and aid at Eggerhope (Eggerstand) Castell, fra they se the fire of Hume, that they fire right swa. And in like manner on Sowtra Edge, sall se the fire of Eggerhope Castell, and mak taikening in like manner: And then may all Louthaine be warned, and in special the Castell of Edinburgh; and their four fires to be made in like manner, that they in Fife, and fra Striveling east, and the east part of Lou thaine, and to Dunbar, all may se them, and come to the defence of the realme." These beacons (at least in latter times) were a long and strong tree set up, with a long iron pole across the head of it, and an iron brander fixed on a stalk in the middle of it, for holding a tar-barrel."STEVENSON'S History, vol. ii. p. 701.

Mount for Branksone was the gathering word of the 3 See Note X.

Scotts.

Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried-
"Prepare ye all for blows and blood!
Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side,
Comes wading through the flood.
Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock

At his lone gate, and prove the lock;
It was but last St. Barnabright
They sieged him a whole summer night,
But fled at morning; well they knew,
In vain he never twang'd the yew.
Right sharp has been the evening shower,
That drove him from his Liddel tower;
And, by my faith," the gate-ward said,
"I think 'twill prove a Warden-Raid. "3

V.

While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman
Enter'd the echoing barbican.
He led a small and shaggy nag,
That through a bog, from hag to hag,

concealment. "In the way as we came, not far from this place, (Long Niddry.) George Ferres, a gentleman of my Lord Protector's...... happened upon a cave in the grounde, the month whereof was so wolne with the fresh printe of steps, that he seemed to be certayne thear wear Some folke within; and gune doune to trie, he was redily receyved with a bakebut or two. He left them not yet. til he had known wheyther thei wold be content to yield and come out; which they fondly refusing, he went to my lorde's grace, and upon utterance of the thynge, gat licence to deale with them as he coulde: and so returned to them, with a skore or two of pioners. Three ventes had their cave, that we wear ware of, whereof he first stopt up on; another he fill'd full of strawe, and set it a fyer, whereat they within cast water apace, but it was so wel maynteyned without, that the fyer prevayled, and thei within fayn to get them belyke into another parler Theu devysed we for I hapt to be with him) to stop the same up. whereby we should eyther smoother them, or fynd out their ventes, if thei hadde any moe: as this was done at another issue, about xii score of, we monghte see the fune of their woke to come out: the which continued with so Kreat a force, and so long a while, that we could not but thinke they must needs get them out, or smoother within: and forasmuch as we found not that they dyd the tone, we thenght it for certain the wear sure of the toother." -PATTEN'S Account of Somerset's Expedition into Scot land, apud DALYELL'S Fragments.

Bee Note Y.

* This person was, in my younger days, the theme of many a fireside tale. He was a retamer of the Buccleuch family, and held for his Border service a small tower on the frontiers of Liddesdale. Watt was, by profession, a Autor, but, by inclination and practice, an archer and warrior. Upon one occasion, the captain of Bewcastle, military governor of that wild district of Cumberland, is said to have made au incursion into Scotland, in which he was defeated, and forced to fly. Watt Tinlion pursued him closely through a dangerous norass; the captain, however, gained the firm ground; and seeing Tinlinn dismounted, and floundering in the bog, used these words of insuit :-"Butor Watt, ye cannot sew your boots; the heels rip, and the seams rive."-" If I cannot sew," retorted Tinlinn, discharging a shaft, which nailed the captain's thigh to his saddle,-" If I cannot sew, I can gert."2

2 An inroad commanded by the Warden in person. The broken ground in a bog.

1 Rip, creak.-Rire, tear.

Yerk, to twitch, as shoemakers do, in securing the stitches of their work.

Could bound like any Billhope stag.1
It bore his wife and children twain;
A half-clothed serf2 was all their train:
His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-brow'd,
Of silver brooch and bracelet proud, 3
Laugh'd to her friends among the crowd.
He was of stature passing tall,
But sparely form'd, and lean withal;
A batter'd morion on his brow;
A leather jack, as fence enow,
On his broad shoulders loosely hung;
A Border axe behind was slung;

His spear, six Scottish ells in length,
Seem'd newly dyed with gore;

His shafts and bow, of wondrous strength, His hardy partner bore.

VI.

Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn show
The tidings of the English foe:--
"Belted Will Howard is marching here,
And hot Lord Dacre,5 with many a spear,
And all the German hackbut-men,6
Who have long lain at Askerten:
They cross'd the Liddel at curfew hour,
And burn'd my little lonely tower:
The fiend receive their souls therefor!
It had not been burnt this year and more.
Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright,
Served to guide me on my flight;
But I was chased the livelong night.
Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Græeme,
Fast upon my traces came,

Until I turn'd at Priesthaugh Scrogg,
And shot their horses in the bog,
Slew Fergus with my lance outright-
I had him long at high despite :
He drove my cows last Fastern's night."

VII.

Now weary scouts from Liddesdale,
Fast hurrying in, confirm'd the tale;
As far as they could judge by ken,
Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand
Three thousand armed Englishmen-
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band,
From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade,
Came in, their Chief's defence to aid.
There was saddling and mounting in haste,
There was pricking o'er moor and lea;
He that was last at the trysting-place

Was but lightly held of his gay ladye.

1 There is an old rhyme, which thus celebrates the places in Liddesdale remarkable for game:

"Billhope braes for bucks and raes,
And Carit haugh for swine.
And Tarras for the good bull-trout,
If he be ta'en in time."

The bucks and roes, as well as the old swine, are now extinct; but the good bull-trout is still famous. 2 Bondsman.

3 As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of their habitations, so much exposed to be burned and plundered, they were proportionally anxious to display splendour in decorating and ornamenting their females. -See LESLEY de Moribus Limitaneorum,

4 See Note Z.

5 See Note A 2.

6 Musketeers. See Note B 2.

VIII.

From fair St. Mary's silver wave,

From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height, His ready lances Thirlestane brave

Array'd beneath a banner bright.
The treasured fleur-de-luce he claims

To wreathe his shield, since royal James,
Encamp'd by Fala's mossy wave,
The proud distinction grateful gave,
For faith 'mid feudal jars;
What time, save Thirlestane alone,
Of Scotland's stubborn barons none

Would march to southern wars;
And hence, in fair remembrance worn,
Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne;
Hence his high motto shines reveal'd-
"Ready, aye ready," for the field. 1

IX.

An aged Knight, to danger steel'd,

With many a moss-trooper, came on;
And azure in a golden field,
The stars and crescent graced his shield,
Without the bend of Murdieston.2
Wide lay his lands round Oakwood tower,
And wide round haunted Castle-Ower;
High over Borthwick's mountain flood,
His wood-embosom'd mansion stood;
In the dark glen, so deep below,
The herds of plunder'd England low;
His bold retainers' daily food,

And bought with danger, blows, and blood.
Marauding chief! his sole delight
The moonlight raid, the morning fight;
Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms,
In youth, might tame his rage for arms;
And still, in age, he spurn'd at rest,
And still his brows the helmet press'd,
Albeit the blanched locks below
Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow;
Five stately warriors drew the sword
Before their father's band;

A braver knight than Harden's lord
Ne'er belted on a brand

X.

Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band,3
Came trooping down the Todshawhill;
By the sword they won their land,

And by the sword they hold it still.
Hearken, Ladye, to the tale,
How thy sires won fair Eskdale.-

Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair,
The Beattisons were his vassals there.

1 See Note C 2.

2 Sue Note D 2.

3 In this, and the following stanzas, some account is given of the mode in which the property in the valley of Esk was transferred from the Beattisons, its ancient possessors, to the name of Scott. It is needless to repeat the circumstances, which are given in the poem, literally as they have been preserved by tradition. Lord Maxwell, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, took upon himself the title of Earl of Morton. The descendants of Beattison of Woodkerrick, who aided the Earl to escape from his disobedient vassals, continued to hold these lands within the memory of man, and were the only Beattisons who had property in the dale. The old people give locality to the story, by showing the Galliard's Haugh, the place where Buccleuch's men were concealed, &c.

The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood,
The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude;
High of heart, and haughty of word,
Little they reck'd of a' tame liege lord.
The Earl into fair Eskdale came,
Homage and seignory to claim:

Of Gilbert the Galliard a heriot! he sought, Saying, "Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought."

"Dear to me is my bonny white steed,
Oft has he help'd me at pinch of need;
Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow,
I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou."-
Word on word gave fuel to fire,
Till so highly blazed the Beattison's ire,
But that the Earl the flight had ta'en,
The vassals there their lord had slain.
Sore he plied both whip and spur,

As he urged his steed through Eskdale muir ;
And it fell down a weary weight,

Just on the threshold of Branksome gate

ΧΙ.

The Earl was a wrathful man to sec,
Full fain avenged would he be.
In haste to Branksome 's lord he spoke,
Saying "Take these traitors to thy yoke;
For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold,
All Eskdale I'll sell thee, to have and hold:
Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons clan
If thou leavest on Eske a landed man;
But spare Woodkerrick s lands alone,
For he lent me his horse to escape upon."
A glad man then was Branksome bold,
Down he flung him the purse of gold;
To Eskdale soon he spurr'd amain,
And with him five hundred riders has ta'en.
He left his merrymen in the mist of the hill,
And bade them hold them close and still;
And alone he wended to the plain,

To meet with the Galliard and all his train.
To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said :---
"Know thou me for thy liege-lord and head;
Deal not with me as with Morton tame,
For Scotts play best at the roughest game.
Give me in peace my heriot due,
Thy bonny white steed, or thou shalt rue.
If my horn I three times wind,

Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind.”—

XII.

Loudly the Beattison laugh'd in scorn;
"Little care we for thy winded horn.
Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot,
To yield his steed to a haughty Scott.
Wend thou to Branksome back on foot,
With rusty spur and miry boot."-
He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse,
That the dun deer started at fair Craikcross;
He blew again so loud and clear,

Through the gray mountain-mist there did lances appear:

And the third blast rang with such a din,
That the echoes answer'd from Pentoun-linn,
And all his riders came lightly in.
Then had you seen a gallant shock,
When saddles were emptied, and lances broke!

1 The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to the best horse of the vassal, in name of Heriot, or Herezeld.

Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, And warriors more than I may name; From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair,

From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen, Troop d man and horse, and bow and spear; Then gathering word was Bellenden. And better hearts o'er Border sod To siege or rescue never rode.

The Ladye mark'd the aids come in,

And high her heart of pride arose :
She bade her youthful son attend,
That he might know his father's friend,
And learn to face his foes.
"The boy is ripe to look on war;
I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff,
And his true arrow struck afar

The raven's nest upon the cliff;

The red cross, on a southern breast,
Is broader than the raven's nest :

wield,

And o'er him hold his father's shield."—

XIV.

Well may you think, the wily page
Cared not to face the Ladye sage.
He counterfeited childish fear,
And shriek'd, and shed full many a tear,
And moan'd and plain'd in manner wild.
The attendants to the Ladye told,
Some fairy, sure, had changed the child,
That wont to be so free and bold.
Then wrathful was the noble dame;
She blush'd blood-red for very shame :-
"Hence! ere the clan his faintness view;
Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch !-
Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide
To Rangleburn's lonely side.-
Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line,
That coward should c'er be son of mine!"-

XV.

A beavy task Watt Tinlinn had,
To guide the counterfeited lad.
Soon as the palfrey felt the weight
Of that ill-omen'd elfish freight,

He bolted, sprung, and rear'd amain,
Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein.
It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil
To drive him but a Scottish mile;

Pellenden is situated near the head of Borthwick water, and being in the centre of the possessions of the Setts, was frequently used as their place of rendezvous and gathering word-Survey of Selkirkshire, in Macfar Jane's MSS, Advocates' Library. Hence Satchells calls one part of his genealogical account of the families of that clan, his Bellenden.

Spurr'd their fleet coursers loosely round;
Behind, in close array, and fast,
The Kendal archers, all in green,
Obedient to the bugle blast,

Advancing from the wood were seen.
To back and guard the archer band,
Lord Dacre's bill-men were at hand:
A hardy race, on Irthing bred,
With kirtles white, and crosses red,
Array'd beneath the banner tall,
That stream'd o'er Acre's conquer'd wall;
And minstrels, as they march'd in order,
Play'd, "Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the
Border."

XVIII.

Behind the English bill and bow,
The mercenaries, firm and slow,

Moved on to fight, in dark array,
By Conrad led of Wolfenstein,
Who brought the band from distant Rhine,
And sold their blood for foreign pay.
The camp their home, their law the sword,
They knew no country, own'd no lord:

1 The mercenary adventurers, whom, in 1380, the Earl of Cambridge carried to the assistance of the King of Por tugal against the Spaniards, mutined for want of regular pay. At an assembly of their leaders, Sir Johu Soltier, a natural son of Edward the Black Prince, thus addressed them: "I counsayle, let us be alle of one alliance, and of one accorde, and let us among ourselves reyse up the baner of St. George, and let us be frendes to God, and enemyes to alle the worlde; for without we make our selfe to be feared, we gette nothynge."

By my fayth,' quad Sir William Helmon, ‘ye saye right well, and so let us do.' They all agreed with one voyce, and so regarded among them who shulde be their capitayne. Then they advysed in the case how they coude nat bave a better capitayne than Sir John Soltier. For