« 前へ次へ »
Tlie lady blush'd red, but nothing she said;
Nor added the haron a word; Then she «tcpp'd down the stair to her chamber fair,
And so did her moody lord.
In sleep the lady mourn'd, and the baron toss'd and tunn'd, And oft to himself he said— « The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep — Tt cannot give up the dead. >»
It was near the ringing of miiin-bell,
The night was well nigh done,
On the eve of good St John.
The ladv look'd through the chamber fair,
And she was aware of a knight stood there-
n Alas! away, away !» she cried,
«By Eildon-trec. for long nights three,
In bloody grave have I lain;
Rut, lady, they are said in vain.
« Ry the baron's brand, near Tweed's fair strand,
Most foully slain I fell;
For u space is doom'd to dwell.
« At our trysting-plnce,1 for a certain space,
I must wander to and fro;
Hudst thou not conjured me so.»
Lore master'd fear—her brow she cross'd;
« How, Richard, hast thou sped? And art thou saved, or art thou lost?*—
The Vision shook his head!
« Who spilleih life shall forfeit life;
So hid thy lord believe:
This awful sign receive.»
lie laid his left palm on an oaken beam;
His right upon* her h <nd:
For it scorch'd like a fiery brand.
The sable score of fingers four,,
Remains on that boird imprcss'd; ind for evermore that lady wore**
A covering on her wrist.
There is a nun in Dry burgh bower,
Ne'er looks upou ihe sun: "here is a monk in Melrose tower,
He speaketh word to uoue.
1 Tr4ittuj-pUce—Pine* of reodeiToat.
BATTLE OF ANCRAM MOOR Lord Evers, and Sir Brian I/ttnun, during thr v-rr 1544. rommitted ihe most dreadful ravages upon t Scottish frontiers, compelling most of the iohabit<n and especially the men of Liddcsdsle, to take assunaai iiuder the King of England. I'pon the 17th NovemWn in that year, the sum total of their depredation-.'U 4 thus, in the bloody ledger of Lord Evers.
Towns, towers, barnckyncs, parysbe
Nags ancLgeldings 1,196
Bolls of corn 55o
Insight gear, etc. (furniture) an incalculable
Murdin's State Papers, vol. i, p. Si.
The King of England had promised to these two barons a feudal grant of the country, which tucvhailtii-s reduced to a desert; upon hearing which, Architatt Douglas, the seventh earl of Angus, is said to Lit 1 sworn to write the deed of investiture upon their Ai* with sharp pens and bloody ink, in resentment f* their having defaced the tombs of his ancestors*! ^ rose.— Godicmft. In 15^5, Lord Even and Ijhwi! again eutered Scotland with an army, conMttiof «F 3ooo mercenaries, i5oo English Borderers, aod -onsured ScottUhmeu, chicflv Armstrongs, Turolmll*, *»■ other broken claus. In this second iucurston, tbe E»-; lish generals even exceeded llieir former cruelty. £• *• burned the lower of Broom house with its laily '1 wbiit and aged woman, says Lesley), and her whole fjtni'y. The English penetrated as f.ir as Melrose, which tkw-i had destroyed last year, and which they now again p ■ I aged As they returned towards Jedburgh, thry wt?e followed by Angus, at the head of 1000 horse, »bo»* shortly after joined by the famous Norman lister. * a body of Fife-men. The English, being probably itwilling lo cross the Teviot while the Scots hiuif urtheir rear, halted upon Ancram M*>or. above dieviliap of that name; and the Scottish general was deliberate' whether to advance or retire, wheu Sir Walter Scott'
~~~~Ieucli came up, at full speed, with a small but
It appears, from a passage in Stowc, that an ancestor of Lord Evers held also a grant of Scottish lands from an English monarch. « I have scen.» wys the historian, n under the broad sealc of the said King Edward I., a manor called Ketties, in the countic of Ferfarc, in; Scotland, and necre the furthest part of the same nation northward, given to John Eure and his heirs, ancestor to the Lord Eure that now ist and for his service done in these partes, with market, etc. dated at Laucrcost, the aolli day of October, anno regis, 34-M— Stowe's Annals, p. 210. This grant, like that of Henry, must liave been dangerous to the.receiver.
Stanza xlviii. There it a nun In Drvburgh bower-. The circumstance of the nun, « who never saw the d*y,» is not entirely imaginary. About fifty yearsago, an unfortunate female wanderer took up her residence in a dark vault, among the ruins of Dryburgh-Abbey, which, during the day, she never quitted. When night fell, she* issued from this miserable habitation, and went to the house of MrHaliburton, of New mains, the editor's great-grandfather, or to that of Mr Erskiur, of Shielfield, two gentlemen of the neighbourhood. From their charity she obtained such necessaries as she could be prevailed upon to accept. At twelve, each night, she lighted her candle, and returned to her vault; assuring her friendly neighbours that, during her absence, her habitation irns arranged by a spirit,to whom she gave the uncouth name of Ftttlips; describing him as a little man, wearing heavy iron shoes, villi which he trampled the clay lloor of the vault, to dispel the damps. This circumstance caused her to he regarded, by the well-informed, with compassion, as deranged in her understanding; and by the vulgar, with some degree of terror. The cause of her adopting this extraordinary mode of life she would never explain. It was, however, believed to have been occasioned by a vow, that, during the absence of a man, to whom she was attached, she would never look upon the sun. Her lover never returned. He fell during the civil war of 1-45-6, and she never more would behold the light of day.
The vault, or rather dungeon, in winch this unfortunate woman lived and died, passes still by the name of the supernatural being, with which its gloom was tenanted by her disturbed imagination, and few of the neighbouring peasants dare enter it by night.
such was the noted battle of Ancram Moor. The .1 on which it was fought is called Lyliard's Edge, .m an Amazonian Scottish woman of that name, M> is reported, by tradition, to have distinguished herf in the same manner as Squire Witheringlou. The d people point out her monument, now broken and -faced. The inscription is said to have been legible ithin this century, and to have run thus:
1 Aojjna bad married the widow of Jamci IV., lister 10 king •3rT VIM.
» Eirnciable. now called Cairmable, it a mountainous iroct at ilio •a of I>o«elm«iale.
ADDRESSED TO TUB
RIGHT HON. LADY ANNE HAMILTON.
The ruins of Cadyow, or Cadzow Castle, the ancient baronial residence of the family of Hamilton, are situated upon the precipitous banks of the river Evan, about two miles above its junction with the Clyde. It wns dismantled in the conclusion of the civil wars,
during the reign of the unfortunate Mary, to whose cause the house of Hamilton devoted themselves with a generous zeal, which occasioned their temporary obsenrity, and, very nearly, their total ruin. The situation of the ruins, embosomed in wood, darkened by ivy and creeping shrubs, and overhanging the brawling torrent, is romantic in the highest degree. In the immediate vicinity of Cadyow is a grove of immense oaks, the remains of the Caledonian Forest, which anciently extended through the south of Scotland, from the Eastern to the Atlantic Ocean. Some of these trees measure tweuty-tivc feet, and upwards, in circumference, and the slate of decay, in which they now appear, shows, that they may have witnessed the rites of the druids. The whole scenery is included in the magnificent and extensive park of the Duke of Hamilton. There was long preserved in this forest the breed of the ScoltUh wild cattle, until their ferocity occasioned their being extirpated, about forty years ago. Their appearance was beautiful, being milk-white, with black muzzles, horns, and hoofs. The bulls are described by ancient authors, as having white manes; but those of latter days had lost that peculiarity, perhaps by intermixture with the tame breed.'
In detailing the death of the Regent Murrfy, which is made the subject of the following ballad, it would be injustice to my reader tw use other words than those of I>r Robertson, whose account of that memorable event forms a beautiful piece of historical painting.
« Hamilton of Roihwcllhaiigh was the person who committed this barbarous action. He had been condemned to death soon after the battle of Langside, as we have already related, and owed his life to the regents
I clemency. Hut part of his estate had been bestowed upon one of the regent's favourites,1 who seized his house, and turned out bis wife, naked, in a cold night, into the open fields, where, before next morning, she became furiously mad. This injury made a deeper impression on him than the benefit he had received, and from that moment he vowed to be revenged of the
! regent. Party rage strengthened and inflamed his private resentment. His kinsmen, the Hamilton*,applauded the enterprise. The maxims of that age justified die most desperate course he could lake to obtain vengeance. He followed the regent for some time, and watched for an opportunity to strike the blow. He resolved, at last, I" wail till his enemy should arrive at Linlithgow, through which he was to pass, in his way from Stirling to Edinburgh. He took his stand in a wooden gallery,3 which had a window towards the street; spread a feather-bed on the floor, to hinder the noise of his feet from being heard; hung up a black cloth behind him, that his shadow might not be observed from without; and, after all this preparation, calmly expected the regent's approach, who had lodged,
during the night, in a house not far distant. Soar m distinct information of the danger which tbreiuii- i him had been conveyed to the regent, and he jv»s-J ■* much regard to it, that he resolved to return by ! * same gate through which he had entered, and to fori a compass round the town. But. as ttie crowd aboa the gate was great, and he himself unacquainted v> fear, he proceeded directly along the street; sod 0.* throng of people obliging him to move very Sm, gave the assassin lime to take so true an aim, that _t shot him, with a single bullet, through the k»*rr pji of his belly, and killed the horse of a gentleman, %\ti rode on his other side. His followers instantly ndr> voured to break into the house whence the bio* Licome; but they found the door strougly baniac*. and, before it could be forced open, llrimiltot mounted a fleet horse,' which stood ready fur himtti back-passage, and was got far beyond their reach, "fa regent died (he same night of his wound-*—flutrr Scotland, book v.
Rothwcllhaugh rode straight to Hamilton, «bm was received in triumph; for the wishes of the hot-* iu Clydesdale, which had been burned by Mur army, were yet smoking; and party prejudice. iir bits of the age, and the enormity of the proaou:.*-. seemed to his kinsmen to justify his deed. Afcr short abode at Hamilton, this fierce aud intnum. man left Scotland, and served in France, uotlrrbVu tronage of the family of Guise, to whom be was drt less recommended by havingavenged tlie cauv of i niece, ^>ueen Mary, upon her ungrateful brother. fV Thou has recorded, that an attempt was made la-» gage him to assassinate Caspar de Coligni, the far% admiral of France, and the buckler of the Hupr^cause. But the character of Kothwellhaugh »a* r.taken. He was no mercenary trader in blood, xa: jeeted the offer with contempt aud indignation, had no authority, he said, from Scotland, to coca' murders in France; he had avenged his own jioi carcl, but he would neither, for price nor praver, a*-* that of another man —Tltuanus, cap. 46.
The regent's death happened a 3d January, i5o*. I is applauded, or stigmatized, by contemporary L»rians, according lo their religious or party prejtti The triumph of Mack wood is unbounded. He not extols the pious feat of Rothwe Ilia ugh, ■ wlio,> ftr» serves, « satisfied, with a single ounce of lead. ■ whose sacrilegious avarice had stripped thetnrtroco*. church of Saint Andrews of its covering.* bat br*crihes it lo immediate divine inspiration, and Uv * cape of Hamilton to little less than the ninni •*interference of the Deity.—/eto, vol. ii, p. ib3. **"equal injustice it was, by others, made the grouad af general national reflection; for, when Satber arr Berney to assassinate Rurlcigh, and quoted theft' pies of Poltrot and Rothwcllhaugh, the oilier eoev» tor answered, « that neither Polirot nor HambVtoa attempt their enterpryse, without some rriioa or .. » sideration to lead them to it: as the one, by byrr &* promise of preferment or rewarde; the other, apdesperatc uiiiid of revenge, for a lylJe wrong donet* him, as the report goethe, according* 10 the rjlr trr* terous disposysyon of the hoole natyon of the Scot--* • —Murjun's State Papers, vol. i, p. 197.
1 The Rift of Lord John Ha nil ton, <■
Wim princely Hamilton's abode
The song went round, the goblet flow'd,
Then, thrilling to the harp's gay sound,
And echoed light the dancer's bound,
But Cadyow's towers, in ruins laid,
Thrill to the music of the shade,
Tet still, of Cadyow's faded fame,
You bid me tell a minstrel tale, And tune my harp, of Border frame,
On the wild banks of Evandale.
For thou, from scenes of county pride.
To draw oblivion's pall aside,
Then, noble maid! at thy command.
Lo! as on Evan's banks we stand.
Where with the rock's wood-covefd side
Rise turrets in fantastic pride,
Where the rude torrent's brawling course
Tbe ashler buttress braves its force,
T is night—the shade of keep and spire
And on the wave the warder's fire,
Fades slow their light; the east is gray;
The weary warder leaves his lower; Steeds snort; uncoupled stag-hounds bay,
And merry hunters quit the bower.
The draw-bridge falls—they hurry out— Clatters each plank and swinging chain,
As, dashing o'er, the jovial rout
Urge the shy steed, and slack the rein.
First of his troop, the chief rode on; (1)
Tbe steed of princely Hamilton
Was fleeter than the mountain wind.
From the thick copse the roe-bucks bound,
For the hoarse bugle's warrior sound
Through the huge oaks of Evandale,
What sullen roar comes down the gale.
Mightiest of all the beasts of chace,
That roam in woody Galcdon, Crashing the forest in his race,
The mountain bull comes thundering on. (2)
Fierce, on the hunter's quiver'd band,
He rolls his eye of swarthy glow,
And tosses high his mane of snow.
Aim'd well, the chieftain's lance has flown;
Struggling in blood the savage Kes; His roar is sunk in hollow groan—
Sound, merry huntsmen! sound the pryse!'
'T is noon—against the knotted oak
The hunters rest the idle spear;
Where yeomen dight the woodland cheer.
Proudly the chieftain mark'd his clan,
Yet miss'd his eye the boldest man,
« Why fills not Bothwcllhaugh his place,
Why comes he not our sport to grace?
Stern Claud replied, with darkening face
« At merry feast, or buxom chase,
« Few suns have set, since Woodhouselee (4)
When to his hearths, in social glee.
The war-worn soldier turn'd him home.
« There, wan from her maternal throes,
His Margaret, beautiful and mild. Sate in her bower, a pallid rose,
And peaceful nursed her new-born child.
«0 change accursed! past are those days;
False Murray's ruthless spoilers came, And, for the hearth's domestic blaze,
Ascends destruction's volumed flame.
«What sheeted phantom wanders wild.
Where mountain Eske through woodland flows.
Her arms enfold a shadowy child—
«The wilder'd traveller sees her glide,
'Revenge,'she cries, 'on Murray's pride!
He ceased—and cries of rage and grief
And half arose the kindling chief,
But who, o'er bush, o'er stream, and rock,
Whose bloody poulard's franlic stroke
Whose check is pale, whose eye-balls glare,
Whose hands are bloody, loose his hair?—
From gory sellc,1 and reeling steed,
And, reeking from the recent deed.
Sternly he spoke—«T is sweet to hear,
But sweeter to Revenge's ear,
« Your slaughtcr'd quarry proudly trod,
But prouder base-born Murray rode
« From the wild Border's humbled side,
In haughty triumph marched he, (6)
And smiled, the traitorous pomp to see.
Or Pomp, with all her courtly glare,
Or change the purpose of Despair?
« With hackbut bent," my secret stand, (7)
And mark'd, where, miugling in his band,
«Dark Morton, girt with many a spear, (S)
And clash'd their broadswords in the rear,
uGlencairn and stout Parkhead were nigh,
And Inggard Lindsay's iron eye,
« Mid pennon'd spears, a steely grove,
Scarce could his trampling charger move,
«From the raised vizor's shade, his eye,
And his steel truncheon, waved on high,
* SV/.V—Saddle. A word used by Spoocor, and other ancient illi art.
* Unckbut bent—Gnu cocked. .
« But yet his sadden'd brow confess d A passing shade of doubt and awe;
Some fiend was whispering in his breast, 'Beware of injured Bothwellhaugb'.'
« The death-shot parts—the charger springsWild rises tumult's startling roar!
And Murray's plumy helmet rings—
« What joy the raptured youth can feel,
Or he, who broaches on his steel
M But dearer to my iojured eye,
And mine was leu times trebled joy,
« My Margaret's spectre glided near;
With pride her bleeding victim saw; And shriek'd in his death-deafeu'd ear,
1 Remember injured Bothwcllhaugh!'
« Then speed thee, noble Chatlerault!
Spread to the wind thy b-uiner'd tree! Each warrior bend his Clydesdale bow!—
Murray is fall'n, and Scot laud free !»
Vaults every warrior to his steed;
Loud bugles join their wild accldim— « Murray is fall'n and Scotland frct-d!
Couch, Arran ! touch thy spear of flame!*
But, sec! the minstrel vision fails—
The glimmering spears, are seen no more,
The shouts of war die ou the yales,
For the loud bugle, pealing high,
The blackbird whistles down die vale,
And sunk in ivied ruins lie
The banncr'd towers of Evaodale.
For chiefs intent on bloody deed.
And Vengeance shouting o'er the slain,
Lo! high-born Beauty rules the steed,
The maids, who list the minstrels tile, Nor e'er a ruder guest be known
On the fair banks of Evandale!
Note 1. Stan/a lii.
Fim of his troop, the chief rode o*
The head of the family of Hamilton, at this per.xi. was James, Earl of Arran, Duke of Chair I he rW 1France, and first peer of the Scottish realm. In i56i» he was appointed by Queen Mary, her lieutenantfror'