The Eve of St. John.

SMAYLHO'ME, or Smallholm Tower, the scene of the following ballad, is situated on the northern boundary of Roxburghshire, among a cluster of wild rocks, called Sandiknow1-Crags, the property of Hugh Scott, Esq. of Harden, [now Lord Polwarth.] The tower is

He went not with the bold Buccleuch,
His banner broad to rear;
He went not 'gainst the English yew,
To lift the Scottish spear.

laced,

And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore;
At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe,
Full ten pound weight and more.

The Baron return'd in three days space,
And his looks were sad and sour;
And weary was his courser's pace,
As he reach'd his rocky tower.

a high square building, surrounded by an outer wall, Yet his plate-jack was braced, and his helmet wac now ruinous. The circuit of the outer court, being defended on three sides, by a precipice and morass, is accessible only from the west, by a steep and rocky path. The apartments, as is usual in a Border keep, or fortress, are placed one above another, and communicate by a narrow stair; on the roof are two bartizans, or platforms, for defence or pleasure. The inner door of the tower is wood, the outer an iron gate; the distance between them being nine feet, the thickness, namely, of the wall. From the elevated situation of Smaylhome Tower, it is seen many miles in every direction. Among the crags by which it is surrounded, one, more eminent, is called the Watchfold, and is said to have been the station of a beacon, in the times of war with England. Without the tower-court is a ruined chapel. Brotherstone is a heath, in the neighbourhood of Smaylho'me Tower.

This ballad was first printed in Mr. LEWIS's Tales of Wonder. It is here published, with some additional illustrations, particularly an account of the battle of Ancram Moor; which seemed proper in a work upon Border antiquities. The catastrophe of the tale is founded upon a well-known Irish tradition. This ancient fortress and its vicinity formed the scene of the Editor's infancy, and seemed to claim from him this attempt to celebrate them in a Border tale.3

THE EVE OF ST. JOHN.

THE Baron of Smaylho'me rose with day,
He spurr'd his courser on,

Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,
That leads to Brotherstone.

1 "This place is rendered interesting to poetical readers, by its having been the residence, in carly life, of Mr. Walter Scott, who has celebrated it in his Eve of St. John.' To it he probably alludes in the introduction to the third canto of Marmion.

Then rise those crags, that mountain tower,
Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour."
Scots Mag. March, 1809.

2 The following passage, in Dr. HENRY MORE'S Appendix to the Antidote against Atheism, relates to a similar phenomenon:-"I confess, that the bodies of devils may not be only warm, but sindgingly hot, as it was in him that took one of Melancthon's relations by the hand, and so scorched her,

1 The farm-house in the immediate vicinity of Smailholm.

He came not from where Ancram Moors
Ran red with English blood;

Where the Douglas true, and the bold Buc-
cleuch,

'Gainst keen Lord Evers stood.

Yet was his helmet hack'd and hew'd,
His acton pierced and tore,

His axe and his dagger with blood imbrued,—
But it was not English gore.

He lighted at the Chapellage,

He held him close and still;
And he whistled thrice for his little foot-page,
His name was English Will.

"Come thou hither, my little foot-page,
Come hither to my knee;

Though thou art young, and tender of age,
I think thou art true to me.

"Come, tell me all that thou hast seen,
And look thou tell me true!
Since I from Smaylho'me tower have been,
What did thy lady do?”—

that she bare the mark of it to her dying day. But the examples of cold are more frequent; as in that famous story of Cuntius, when he touched the arm of a certain woman of Pentoch, as she lay in her bed, he felt as cold as ice; and so did the spirit's claw to Anne Styles."-Ed. 1662, p. 135.

3 See the Introduction to the third canto of Marmion... "It was a barren scene, and wild,

Where naked cliffs were rudely piled;

But ever and anon between

Lay velvet tufts of softest green;

And well the lonely infant knew

Recesses where the wallflower grew," &c.-ED.

4 The plate-jack is coat-armour; the vaunt-brace, or wambrace, armour for the body: the sperthe, a battle-axe. 5 See Appendix, Note A

For the Dryburgh bells ring, and the white monks" By Eildon-tree, for long nights three,

Then she stepp'd down the stair to her chamber fair, He laid his left palm on an oaken beam;
And so did her moody lord.

In sleep the lady mourn'd, and the Baron toss'd and

turn'd,

And oft to himself he said,

"The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave

is deep

It cannot give up the dead!"

It was near the ringing of matin-bell,
The night was wellnigh done,
When a heavy sleep on that Baron fell,
On the eve of good St. John.

The lady look'd through the chamber fair,
By the light of a dying flame;

And she was aware of a knight stood there-
Sir Richard of Coldinghame!

His right upon her hand;
The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk,
For it scorch'd like a fiery brand.

The sable score, of fingers four,
Remains on that board impress'd;
And for evermore that lady wore
A covering on her wrist.

There is a nun in Dryburgh bower,
Ne'er looks upon the sun;
There is a monk in Melrose tower,
He speaketh word to none.

That nun, who ne'er beholds the day,3
That monk, who speaks to none-
That nun was Smaylho'me's Lady gay,
That monk the bold Baron.

1 Mertoun is the beautiful seat of Lord Polwarth.
• Trysting-place-Place of rendezvous.
a See Appendix, Note B.

tery was never touched with more thrilling skill than in that noble ballad. It is the first of his original pieces, too, in which he uses the measure of his own favourite Minstrels; a measure which the monotony of mediocrity had long and suc cessfully been labouring to degrade, but in itself adequate to the expression of the highest thoughts, as well as the gentlest

The next of these compositions was, I believe, the Eve of St. John, in which Scott repeoples the tower of Smailholm, the awe-inspiring haunt of his infancy; and here he touches, for the first time, the one superstition which can still be ap-emotions; and capable, in fit hands, of as rich a variety of pealed to with full and perfect effect; the only one which lingers in minds long since weaned from all sympathy with the machinery of witches and goblins. And surely this mys

music as any other of modern times. This was written at Mertoun-house in the autumn of 1799."—Life of Scott, vol. ii p. 26. See ante, p. 566.