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And maids and matrons dropp'd the tear,
His spear, six Scottish ells in length,
Seem'd newly dyed with gore;
His hardy partner bore.
“ Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side,
Comes wading through the flood.3
At his lone gate, and prove the lock;
Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band,
There was pricking o'er moor and lea;
Was but lightly held of his gaye ladye.18
I See Appendix, Note 2 W. 2 See Appendix, Note 2 X. structure of their plan. It is this, amongst other circum3 « And when they cam to Branksome ha',
stances, which enables them to carry us along with them, They shouted a' baith loud and hie,
under 1 know not what species of fascination, and to make Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch,
us, as it were, credulous spectators of their most extravagant Said—' Whae's this brings the fraye to me?'
scenes. In this they seem to resemble the painter, who, in It's I, Jamie Telfer, o' the fair Dod head,
the delineation of a battle, while he places the adverse heroes And a harried man I think I be,'" &c.
of the day combating in the front, takes care to fill his backBorder Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p. 8.
ground with subordinate figures, whose appearance adds at
once both spirit and an air of probability to the scene."* An inroad commanded by the Warden in person. Critical Review, 1805.
5 “The dawn displays the smoke of ravaged fields, and shep- 6 The broken ground in a bog. herds, with their flocks, flying before the storm. Tidings
7 See Appendix, Note 2 Y. brought by a tenant of the family, not used to seek a shelter
8 Bondsman. on light occasions of alarm, disclose the strength and ohject of the invaders. This man is a character of a lower and of a
9 As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of rougher cast than Deloraine. The portrait of the rude re
their habitations, so much exposed to be burned and pluntainer is sketched with the same masterly hand. Here, again, dered, they were proportionally anxious to display splendour Mr. Scott has trod in the footsteps of the old romancers, who
in decorating and ornamenting their females. - See LESLEY confine not themselves to the display of a few personages who
de Moribus Limitancorum. stalk orer the stage on stately stilts, but usually reflect all the
10 See Appendix, Note 2 Z. 11 See Appendix, Note 3 A. varieties of character that marked the era to which they belong. 12 Musketeers. See Appendix, Note 3 B. The interesting example of manners thus preserved to us is 13 The four last lines of stanza vii. are not in the 1st Edition not the only advantage winch results from this peculiar - Ed.
From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height, His ready lances Thirlestane brave
Array'd beneath a banner bright.
For faith ’mid feudal jars ;
Would march to southern wars;
Ready, aye ready,” for the field.
The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood,
With many a moss-trooper, came on ;
Without the bend of Murdieston.2
Before their father's band;
Ne'er belted on a brand. 3
XI. The Earl was a wrathful man to see, 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 fung 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."
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.
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.
1 See Appendix, Note 3 C. 3 Sec Appendix, Note 3 D. a See, besides the note on this stanza, one in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p. 10, respecting Wat of Harden, the Author's ancestor.
A satirical piece, entitled “The Town Eclogue," which made such noise in Edinburgh shortly after the appearance of the Minstrelsy, has these lines :
“A modern anthor spends a hundred leaves,
To prove his ancestors notorious thieves. '-ED. 4 Stanzas x. xi. xii. were not in the first Edition > See Appendix, Note 3 E.
6 The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to the best horse of the Farsal, in name of Heriot, or Herezeld.
Wend thou to Branksome back on foot,
Then wrathful was the noble dame; With rusty spur and miry boot.”
She blush'd blood-red for very shame :He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse,
“ Hence! ere the clan his faintness view; That the dun deer started at fair Craikcross; Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch!-He blew again so loud and clear,
Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide Through the grey mountain-mist there did lances To Rangleburn's lonely side. appear;
Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, And the third blast rang with such a din,
That coward should e'er be son of mine!"That the echoes answer'd from Pentoun-linn, And all his riders came lightly in.
A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had,
Of that ill-omen'd elfish freight,
He bolted, sprung, and rear'd amain, And he bore the Galliard through and through; Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein. Where the Beattisons' blood mix'd with the rill, It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil The Galliard's-Haugh men call it still.
To drive him but a Scottish mile; The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan,
But as a shallow brook they cross d, In Eskdale they left but one landed man.
The elf, amid the running stream, The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the His figure changed, like form in dream, source,
And fled, and shouted, “ Lost ! lost! lost!” Was lost and won for that bonny white horse. Full fast the urchin ran and laughd,
But faster still a cloth-yard shaft
Whistled from startled Tinlinn's yew,
And pierced his shoulder through and through. And warriors more than I may name;
Although the imp might not be slain, From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair,'
And though the wound soon heal d again, From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen.
Yet, as he ran, he yell’d for pain;
Rode back to Branksome fiery fast.
Soon on the hill's steep verge he stood, And high her heart of pride arose:
That looks o'er Branksome's towers and wood; She bade her youthful son attend,
And martial murmurs, from below,
Proclaim'd the approaching southern foe.
Through the dark wood, in mingled tone, “ The boy is ripe to look on war;
Were Border pipes and bugles blown; I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff,
The coursers' neighing he could ken, And his true arrow struck afar
A measured tread of marching men; The raven's nest upon the cliff;
While broke at times the solemn hum, The red cross, on a southern breast,
The Almayn's sullen kettle-drum; Is broader than the raven's nest:
And banners tall, of crimson sheen, Thou, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon to Above the copse appear; wield,
And, glistening through the hawthorns green, And o'er him hold his father's shield.”
Shine helm, and shield, and spear.
The attendants to the Ladye told,
That wont to be so free and bold.
The Kendal archers, all in green,
Advancing from the wood were seen,
1 This and the three following lines are not in the first edition. -ED.
See Appendix, Note 3 F.
A hardy race, on Irthing bred,
Where upon tower and turret head, With kirtles white, and crosses red,
The seething pitch and molten lead Array'd beneath the banner tall,
Reek’d, like a witch's caldron red. That stream'd o'er Acre's conquer'd wall;
While yet they gaze, the bridges fall, And minstrels, as they march'd in order,
The wicket opes, and from the wall
Armed he rode, all save the head,
His white beard o'er his breast-plate spread; The mercenaries, firm and slow,
Unbroke by age, erect his seat, Moved on to fight, in dark array,
He ruled his eager courser's gait; By Conrad led of Wolfenstein,
Forced him, with chasten'd fire, to prance, Who brought the band from distant Rhine,
And, high curvetting, slow advance : And sold their blood for foreign pay.
In sign of truce, his better hand The camp their home, their law the sword,
Display'd a peeled willow wand; They knew no country, own'd no lord :1
His squire, attending in the rear, They were not arm'd like England's sons,
Bore high a gauntlet on a spear.5 But bore the levin-darting guns ;
When they espied him riding out, Buff coats, all frounced and 'broider'd o'er,
Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout And morsing-horns and scarfs they wore;
Sped to the front of their array,
To hear what this old knight should say.
“ Ye English warden lords, of you
Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch,
Why, 'gainst the truce of Border tide,
In hostile guise ye dare to ride, And louder still the minstrels blew,
With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand, When, from beneath the greenwood tree,
And all yon mercenary band, Rode forth Lord Howard's chivalry;
Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? His men-at-arms, with glaive and spear,
My Ladye reads you swith return; Brought up the battle’s glittering rear,
And, if but one poor straw you burn, There many a youthful knight, full keen
Or do our towers so much molest, To gain his spurs, in arms was seen;
As scare one swallow from her nest, With favour in his crest, or glove,
St. Mary! but we'll light a brand
Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland."-
A wrathful man was Dacre's lord, And cried, “ St. George, for merry Eng
But calmer Howard took the word : land!”3
“ May't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal,
To seek the castle's outward wall,
Our pursuivant-at-arms shall show
Both why we came, and when we go.”On Branksome's armed towers was bent;
The message sped, the noble Dame So near they were, that they might know
To the wall's outward circle came; The straining harsh of each cross-bow;
Each chief around lean’d on his spear, On battlement and bartizan
To see the pursuivant appear. Gleam'd axe, and spear, and partisan;
All in Lord Howard's livery dress’d, Falcon and culver, on each tower,
The lion argent deck'd his breast; Stood prompt their deadly hail to shower;
He led a boy of blooming hue And flashing armour frequent broke
O sight to meet a mother's view! From eddying whirls of sable smoke,
It was the heir of great Buccleuch.
See Appendix, Note 3 G.
* Ancient pieces of artillery. 2 Powder-flasks.
6 A glove upon a lance was the emblem of faith among the 8" The stanzas, describing the march of the English forces, ancient Borderers, who were wont, when any one broke his and the investiture of the Castle of Branxholm, display a word, to expose this emblem, and proclaim him a faithless great knowledge of ancient costume, as well as a most pictu- vilain at the first Border meeting. This ceremony was much resque and lively picture of feudal warfare." --Crilical Revicu. dreaded. See LESLEY.
Obeisance meet the herald made,
For the young heir of Branksome's ling, And thus his master's will he said:
God be his aid, and God be mine;
Through me no friend shall meet his doom; XXIV.
Here, while I live, no foe finds room. “ It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords,
Then, if thy Lords their purpose urge, 'Gainst ladye fair to draw their swords;
Take our defiance loud and high; But yet they may not tamely see,
Our slogan is their lyke-wake dirge, All through the Western Wardenry,
Our moat, the grave where they shall lie." Your law-contemning kinsmen ride, And burn and spoil the Border-side;
XXVII. And ill beseems your rank and birth
Proud she look'd round, applause to claimTo make your towers a flemens-firth.'
Then lighten'd Thirlestane's eye of flame; We claim from thee William of Deloraine,
His bugle Wat of Harden blew; That he may suffer march-treason* pain.
Pensils and pennons wide were flung, It was but last St. Cuthbert's even
To heaven the Border slogan rung, He prick'd to Stapleton on Leven,
“St. Mary for the young Buccleuch ?” Harried the lands of Richard Musgrave,
The English war-cry answer'd wide, And slew his brother by dint of glaive.
And forward bent each southern spear; Then, since a lone and widow'd Dame
Each Kendal archer made a stride, These restless riders may not tame,
And drew the bowstring to his ear; Either receive within thy towers
Each minstrel's war-note loud was blown ; Two hundred of my master's powers,
But, ere a gray-goose shaft had flown,
A horseman gallop'd from the rear.
“ Ab! noble Lords !” he breathless said,
“ What treason has your march betray'd! XXV.
What make you here, from aid so far, He ceased and loud the boy did cry,
Before you walls, around you war! And stretch'd his little arms on high;
Your foemen triumph in the thought, Implored for aid each well-known face,
That in the toils the lion's caught. And strove to seek the Dame's embrace.
Already on dark Ruberslaw A moment changed that Ladye's cheer,
The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw;10 Gush'd to her eye the unbidden tear;
The lances, waving in his train, She gazed upon the leaders round,
Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain; And dark and sad each warrior frown'd;
And on the Liddel's northern strand, Then, deep within her sobbing breast
To bar retreat to Cumberland, She lock'd the struggling sigh to rest;
Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good, Unalter'd and collected stood,
Beneath the eagle and the rood; And thus replied, in dauntless mood :
And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale,
Have to proud Angus come;
And all the Merse and Lauderdale “Say to your Lords of high emprize,
Have risen with haughty Home. Who war on women and on boys,
An exile from Northumberland, That either William of Deloraine
In Liddesdale I've wander'd long; Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain, But still my heart was with merry England, Or else he will the combat take
And cannot brook my country's wrong; 'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake.
And hard I've spurr'd all night, to show
The mustering of the coming foe.”
“ For soon yon crest, my father's pride, And bare him ably in the flight,
That swept the shores of Judah's sea, Himself had seen him dubb’d a knight.
And waved in gales of Galilee,
l'An asylum for outlaws.
“ Say to thy Lords of high emprize." 6 See Appendix, Note 31. 7 Ibid. Note 3 b. 8 lbid. Note 3 L, 9 Luke-woke. the watching a corpse previous to interprent. 10 Weapon-schau, the military array of a county.