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side, says, "In this batayle the vallancie of an Heiland gentie. man, named Macfarlane, stood the Regent's part in great steede; for, in the hottest brunte of the fighte, he came up with two hundred of his friendes and countrymen, and so manfully gave in upon the flankes of the Queen's people, that he was a great cause of the disordering of them. This Mac farlane had been lately before, as I have heard, condemned to die, for some outrage by him committed, and obtayning par don through suyte of the Countess of Murray, he recompensed that clemencie by this piece of service now at this batayle." Calderwood's account is less favourable to the Macfarlanes. He states that "Macfarlane, with his Highlandmen, fled from the wing where they were set. The Lord Lindsay, whe stood nearest to them in the Regent's battle, said, 'Let them go! I shall fill their place better:' and so, stepping forward, with a company of fresh men, charged the enemy, whose spears were now spent, with long weapons, so that they were driven back by force, being before almost overthrown by the avaunt-guard and harquebusiers, and so were turned to flight." -CALDERWOOD's MS. apud KEITH, p. 480. Melville mentions the flight of the vanguard, but states it to have been commanded by Morton, and composed chiefly of commoners of the barony of Renfrew.


From the wild Border's humbled side.- r. 598.

Murray's death took place shortly after an expedition to the Borders; which is thus commemora ed by the author of his Elegy :

"So having stablischt all thing in this sort, To Liddisdaill agane he did resort,

Throw Ewisdail, Eskdail, and all the daills rode he, And also lay three nights in Cannabie,

Whair na prince lay thir hundred yeiris before.


Glencairn and stout Parkhead were nigh.-P. 598.

The Earl of Glencairn was a steady adherent of the Regent. George Douglas of Parkhead was a natural brother of the Earl of Morton, whose horse was killed by the same ball by which Murray fell.

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The Gray Brother.


"About the same time he [Peden] came to Andrew Normand's house, in the parish of Alloway, in the shire of Ayr, being to preach at night in his barn. After he came in, he halted a little, leaning upon a

THE imperfect state of this ballad, which was writ- | upon their minds the gloom of superstition, 30 general ten several years ago, is not a circumstance affected in that age. for the purpose of giving it that peculiar interest which is often found to arise from ungratified curiosity. On the contrary, it was the Editor's intention to have completed the tale, if he had found himself able to succeed to his own satisfaction. Yielding to the opi-chair-back, with his face covered; when he lifted up nion of persons, whose judgment, if not biassed by the partiality of friendship, is entitled to deference, he has preferred inserting these verses as a fragment, to his intention of entirely suppressing them.

his head, he said, 'They are in this house that I have not one word of salvation unto;' he halted a little again, saying, 'This is strange, that the devil will not go out, that we may begin our work!' Then there was a woman went out, ill-looked upon almost all her life, and

of the same. It escaped me, in the former passages, what John Muirhead (whom I have often mentioned) told me, that when he came from Ireland to Galloway, he was at family-worship, and giving some notes upon the Scripture read, when a very ill-looking man came, and sat down within the door, at the back of the hallan, [partition of the cottage:] immediately he halted and said, 'There is some unhappy body just now come into this house. I charge him to go out, and not stop my mouth !' This person went out, and he insisted [went on,] yet he saw him neither come in nor go out."-The Life and Prophecies of Mr. Alexander Peden, late Minister of the Gospel at New Glenluce, in Galloway, part ii. § 26.

The tradition, upon which the tale is founded, regards a house upon the barony of Gilmerton, near Lass-to her dying hour, for a witch, with many presumptions wade, in Mid-Lothian. This building, now called Gilmerton Grange, was originally named Burndale, from the following tragic adventure. The barony of Gilmerton belonged, of yore, to a gentleman named Heron, who had one beautiful daughter. This young lady was seduced by the Abbot of Newbattle, a richly endowed abbey, upon the banks of the South Esk, now a seat of the Marquis of Lothian. Heron came to the knowledge of this circumstance, and learned also, that the lovers carried on their guilty intercourse by the connivance of the lady's nurse, who lived at this house of Gilmerton Grange, or Burndale. He formed a resolution of bloody vengeance, undeterred by the supposed sanctity of the clerical character, or by the stronger claims of natural affection. Choosing, therefore, a dark and windy night, when the objects of his vengeance were engaged in a stolen interview, he set fire to a stack of dried thorns, and other combustibles, which he had caused to be piled against the house, and reduced to a pile of glowing ashes the dwelling, with all its inmates.1

The scene with which the ballad opens, was suggested by the following curious passage, extracted from the Life of Alexander Peden, one of the wandering and persecuted teachers of the sect of Cameronians, during the reign of Charles II. and his successor, James. This person was supposed by his followers, and, perhaps, really believed himself, to be possessed of supernatural gifts; for the wild scenes which they frequented, and the constant dangers which were incurred through their proscription, deepened

1 This tradition was communicated to me by John Clerk, Esq of Eldin, author of an Essay upon Naval Tactics, who will be remembered by posterity, as having taught the Genius

A friendly correspondent remarks, "that the incapacity of proceeding in the performance of a religious duty, when a contaminated person is present, is of much higher antiquity than the era of the Reverend Mr. Alexander Peden.”— Vide Hygini Fubulus, cap. 26. "Medea Corintho exul, Athenas, ad Ægeum Pandionis filium devenit in hospitium, eique nupsit.

"Postea sacerdos Diana Medeam exagitare cœpit, regique negabat sacra caste facere posse, eo quod in ea civitate esset mulier venefica et scelerata; tunc exulatur."


THE Pope he was saying the high, high mass,
All on Saint Peter's day,

of Britain to concentrate her thunders, and to launch them against her focs with an unerring aim.

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For all 'mid Scotland's chiefs of fame, Was none more famed than he.

And boldly for his country, still,

In battle he had stood, Ay, even when on the banks of Till Her noblest pour'd their blood.

Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet!
By Eske's fair streams that run,
O'er airy steep, through copsewood deep,
Impervious to the sun.

There the rapt poet's step may rove,

And yield the muse the day; There Beauty, led by timid Love, May shun the tell-tale ray;

From that fair dome, where suit is paid By blast of bugle free,1

To Auchendinny's hazel glade,

And haunted Woodhouselee.3

Who knows not Melville's beechy grove,
And Roslin's rocky glen,5
Dalkeith, which all the virtues love,
And classic Hawthornden ?7

Yet never a path, from day to day, The pilgrim's footsteps range, Save but the solitary way

To Burndale's ruin'd grange.

4 woful place was that, I ween,

As sorrow could desire;

For nodding to the fall was each crunibling wall, And the roof was scathed with fire.

It fell upon a summer's eve,

While, on Carnethy's head,

The last faint gleams of the sun's low beams Had streak'd the grey with red;

And the convent bell did vespers tell, Newbattle's oaks among,

And mingled with the solemn knell Our Ladye's evening song:

The heavy knell, the choir's faint swell,
Came slowly down the wind,
And on the pilgrim's ear they fell,

As his wonted path he did find.

Deep sunk in thought, I ween, he was,
Nor ever raised his eye,
Until he came to that dreary place,
Which did all in ruins lie.

1 Se Appendix, Notes 1 to 7.

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And shrive thee so clean of thy deadly sin, That absolved thou mayst be."

"And who art thou, thou Gray Brother,

That I should shrive to thee,

When He, to whom are given the keys of earth and heaven,

Has no power to pardon me?"—

"O I am sent from a distant clime,
Five thousand miles away,
And all to absolve a foul, foul crime,
Done here 'twixt night and day."

The pilgrim kneel'd him on the sand,
And thus began his saye—
When on his neck an ice-cold hand
Did that Gray Brother laye.'

"Then came The Gray Brother, founded on another super stition, which seems to have been almost as ancient as the belief in ghosts; namely, that the holiest service of the altar cannot go on in the presence of an unclean person—a heinous sinner unconfessed and unabsolved. The fragmentary form of this poem greatly heightens the awfulness of its impression; and in construction and metre, the verses which really belong to the story appear to me the happiest that have ever been produced expressly in imitation of the ballad of the middle age. In the stanzas, previously quoted, on the scenery of the Esk, however beautiful in themselves, and however interesting now as marking the locality of the composition, he must be allowed to have lapsed into another strain, and produced a pannus purpureus which interferes with and mars the general texture."—Life of Scott, vol. ii. p. 26.





1 The barony of Pennycuik, the property of Sir George Clerk, Bart., is held by a singular tenure; the proprietor being bound to sit upon a large rocky fragment called the Buckstane, and wind three blasts of a horn, when the King shall come to hunt on the Borough Muir, near Edinburgh. Hence the family have adopted as their crest a demi-forester proper, winding a horn, with the motto, Free for a Blast. The beautiful mansion-house of Pennycuik is much admired, both on account of the architecture and surrounding scenery. 2 Auchendinny, situated upon the Eske, below Pennycuik, the present residence of the ingenious H. Mackenzie, Esq., author of the Man of Feeling, &c.-Edition 1803.

a "Haunted Woodhouselee."-For the traditions connected with this ruinous mansion, see Ballad of Cadyow Castle, Note, p. 599

4 Melville Castle, the seat of the Right Honourable Lord Melville, to whom it gives the title of Viscount, is delightfully situated upon the Eske, near Lasswade.

5 The ruins of Roslin Castle, the baronial residence of the ancient family of St. Clair. The Gothic chapel, which is still in beautiful preservation, with the romantic and woody dell in which they are situated, belong to the Right Honourable the Earl of Rosslyn, the representative of the former Lords of Roslin.

6 The village and castle of Dalkeith belonged of old to the famous Earl of Morton, but is now the residence of the noble family of Buccleuch. The park extends along the Eske, which is there joined by its sister stream of the same name.

7 Hawthornden, the residence of the poet Drummond. A house of more modern date is enclosed, as it were, by the ruins of the ancient castle, and overhangs a tremendous precipice upon the banks of the Eske, perforated by winding caves, which in former times were a refuge to the oppressed


patriots of Scotland. Here Drummond received Ben Jonson, who journeyed from London on foot in order to visit him. The beauty of this striking scene has been much injured of late years by the indiscriminate use of the axe. The traveller now looks in vain for the leafy bower,

"Where Jonson sat in Drummond's social shade."

Upon the whole, tracing the Eske from its source till it joins the sea at Musselburgh, no stream in Scotland can boast such a varied succession of the most interesting objects, as well as of the most romantic and beautiful scenery. 1803. -The beautiful scenery of Hawthornden has, since the above note was written, recovered all its proper ornament of wood 1831.

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Royal Edinburgh Light Bragoons.

'Nennius. Is not peace the end of arms?

"Caratach. Not where the cause implies a general conquest. Had we a difference with some petty isle,

Or with our neighbours, Britons, for our landmarks,
The taking in of some rebellious lord,

Or making head against a slight commotion,
After a day of blood, peace might be argued :

But where we grapple for the land we live on,

The liberty we hold more dear than life,

The gods we worship, and, next these, our honours,
And, with those, swords that know no end of battle-
Those men, beside themselves, allow no neighbour,
Those minds, that, where the day is, claim inheritance,
And, where the sun makes ripe the fruit, their harvest,
And, where they march, but measure out more ground
To add to Rome

It must not be-No! as they are our foes,
Let's use the peace of honour-that's fair dealing;
But in our hands our swords. The hardy Roman,
That thinks to graft himself into my stock,
Must first begin his kindred under ground,
And be allied in ashes.".


THE following War-Song was written during the apprehension of an invasion.' The corps of volunteers to which it was addressed, was raised in 1797, consisting of gentlemen, mounted and armed at their own expense. It still subsists, as the Right Troop of the Royal Mid-Lothian Light Cavalry, commanded by the Honourable Lieutenant-Colonel Dundas. The noble and constitutional measure of arming freemen in defence of their own rights, was nowhere more successful than in Edinburgh, which furnished a force of 3000 armed and disciplined volunteers, including a regiment of cavalry, from the city and county, and

two corps of artillery, each capable of serving twelve guns. To such a force, above all others, might, in similar circumstances, be applied the exhortation of our ancient Galgacus: "Proinde ituri in aciem, d majores vestros et posteros cogitate." 1812.



To horse! to horse! the standard flies,

The bugles sound the call;

The Gallic navy stems the seas,
The voice of battle's on the breeze,
Arouse ye, one and all!


From high Dunedin's towers we come,
A band of brothers true;
Our casques the leopard's spoils surround,
With Scotland's hardy thistle crown'd;
We boast the red and blue.3

Though tamely crouch to Gallia's frown
Dull Holland's tardy train;
Their ravish'd toys though Romans mourn;
Though gallant Switzers vainly spurn,
And, foaming, gnaw the chain;

Oh! had they mark'd the avenging call Their brethren's murder gave,

The song originally appeared in the Scots Magazine for garded the death of their bravest countrymen, mercilessly 1802.-ED.

2 Now Viscount Melville.-1831.

3 The royal colours.

4 The allusion is to the massacre of the Swiss Guards, on the fatal 10th August, 1792. It is painful, but not useless, to remark, that the passivo temper with which the Swiss re

slaughtered in discharge of their duty, encouraged and authorized the progressive injustice, by which the Alps, once the seat of the most virtuous and free people upon the Continent, have, at length, been converted into the citadel of a fo reign and military despot. A state degraded is half enslaved


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