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taken out and hanged before his own door. Filled | which possesses the true character of border with horror, his wife fled to a place still called music. the Lady's Seat, where the roar of the foaming Douglass, or the Dhu Glass, the black and grey cataract might drown the tumultuous noise, water, is the next tributary of consequence. It which attended the execution of her beloved hus- descends from the left, from the Blackhouse band. The following old ballad given in the Heights, which rise 2,370 feet above the sea, and Border minstrelsy, is said to be her “ Lament :" it joins the Yarrow immediately after passing a "My love he built me a bonny bower,
craggy rock, called the Douglass Craig. The reAnd clad it a' wi' lylie flower,
mains of the ancient tower of Blackhouse, stand A brawer bower ye ne'er did see, Than my true love he built for me.
in this wild and solitary glen. The building ap“ There came a man, by middle day,
pears to have been square, with a circular turret He spied his sport, and went away;
at one angle for carrying up the staircase, and And İrought the king that very night,
flanking the entrance. From this ancient tower, Who bruke my bower, and slew my knight.
Lady Margaret Douglass was carried off by her “ He slew my knight, to me so dear;
lover, which gave rise to that sad, but wellHe slew my knight, and poined his gear; My servants all for life did fice,
authenticated, legend which is tolì in the ballad And left me in extremitie.
called, “ The Douglas Tragedy." “ I sewed his sheet, making my mane;
“ 'Rise up, rise up, now Lord Douglas,' she says, I watched the corpse, myself alane;
• And put on your armour so bright,
Let it never be said that a daughter of thine
Was married io a Lord under night.
“Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,
And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your younger sister,
For your eldest's awa' the last night.'
He's mounted ber on a milk white steed,
And hiinself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet-born bimg down by his side,
And lightly they rode away.
“ Lord William looket o'er his left shoulder,
To see what he could see,
And there he spyed her seven brethren bold,
Come riding o'er the lee. his lady, consisting of a large stone broken into “*Light down, light down, Lady Marg’ret,' he said, thrce parts, still lies in the deserted burial-place
. And hold my steed in your hand,
Until that agunst your seven brethren bold, that surrounded the chapel of the castle, with this
Aud your Futher, I make a stand.' inscription on it—" Here lyes Perys of Cokburne
“ She beld his steed in her milk-white hand, and his Wyfe Marjory."
And never shed one tear, Near to the point where the Kirkstead Burn Until that she saw her seven brethern fa', joins the lower end of the lake are the ruins of And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear. Dryhope Tower, celebrated as the birth-place of ""Oh, hold your hand, Lord William” she said, Mary Scott, daughter of Philip Scott, of Dryhope.
For your strokes they are wondrous sair;
True lovers I can get mony a ane, She was rendered famous by the traditional
But a fa:her I can never get mair.' name of the Flower of Yarrow. She was married
“O, she's ta'en out her handkerchief, to Walter Scott of Harden, who was as renowned It was o' the llolland sae fine, for his exploits as a bold Border-rider, as she was And aye she diighted lier father's bloody wounds,
That were redder than the wine. for her beauty. We know not whether the wellknown ballad should be considered as dedicated
“«O chuse, O chuse, Lady Marg'ret,' he said,
'O) whether will ye gang or bide ? to her, or to some subsequent Flower of Yarrow,
I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord Hilliam,' she said, for we believe that there were others, after her For you have left me 110 other guide.' time.
We certainly can hardly conceive the " He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, rough, moss-trooping !Iarden dissolving into such And himself on a dapple grey, verses as these :
With a bugelet-horn bruing down by his side,
And slowiy they baith rode away. “Happy's the love which meets return,
“O they rade on, and on they rade,
And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they came to yon van water,
And there they lighted down.
“ They lighted down to tak'a drink
Of the spring that ran sae clear;
And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood).
And sair she 'gan to fear. And believing, as we do, that the verses are the
“«Hold up, hold up, Lord William,' she says, production of a more modern and less romantic
For I fear that you are slain!' age, we shall spare our readers from the inflic- ''Tis naething but shadow of my scarlet cloak,
That shines in the water sae plain.' tion of any more of them; whilst, at the same time, we give them the assurance, from our
“ O they rode on, and on they rode,
And a' by the light of the moon, own experience, that they pass very well when
Until they cam' to his mother's ha' doorg) sung to the simple melody to which they belong, And there they lighted down.
**Get op, get up, lady mother,' he says,
“Dowie Dens of Yarrow," was, in reality, dedi. • Get up and let me in! Get up, get up, lady mother,' he says,
cated. A certain knight, of the name of Scott, *For this night my fair lady l've win.
who was probably John, sixth son of the laird of ••• O mak' my bed, lady mother,' he says,
Harden, who resided at Kirkhope, or Oakwood “O mak' it braid and deep!
Castle, was murdered hereabouts by his kinsmen, And lay Lady Marg'ret close at my back,
the Scotts of Gilman’s-cleuch. Again, in a spot And the sounder I will sleep.'
called Annan's Treat, a huge monumental stone, “ Lord William was dead long ere midnight, Lady Marg'ret long ere day
with an eligible inscription, was discovered, which And all true lovers that gang thegither,
is supposed to record the event of a combat, in May they have mair luck than they.
which the male ancestor of the present Lord “ Lord William was buried ir. St. Varie's kirk,
Napier was slain. And then two tall unhewn Lady Marg’ret in Marie's quire,
stones are erected on Annan's Treat, about eighty Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, yards distant from each other, which the smallest And out o' ile knight's a brier.
child tending a cow will tell you, mark the spot “ And they twa met, and they twa plat,
where lie the twa Lords, who were slain in single And fain they wad be neur, And a'the warld might ken right weel,
fight. Scott tells us, that “ Tradition affirms, They were twa lovers dear.
that, be the hero of the song whom he may, he * But bye and rade the Black Doriglas,
was murdered by the brother, either of his wife, And wow but he was rough!
or betrothed bride. The alleged cause of malice For he pulled up the bonny brier,
was the lady's father having proposed to endow And flang'i in St. Marie's loch."
her with the half of his property, upon her marSeven large stones, erected on the neighbouring riage with a warrior of such renown. The name heights of Blackhouse, mark the spot where the of the murderer is said to have been Annan, and seven brethren were slain, and the Douglas burn the place of the combat is still called Annan's is said to be the stream at which the lovers Treat." stopped to drink.
“Late at e'en, drinking the wine. Opposite to the Douglas water, that of Altrive And ere they paid the lawing, comes in from the right. Here it was that James
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing. Hogs, the Ettrick Shepherd, had his small farm, which, we believe, his Grace the Duke of Buc- “« Oh stay at hame, my noble lord,
Oh stay at hame, my marrow! cleuch generously gave him rent-free, and here My cruel brother will you betray, he accordingly lived until his death. Nothing On the dowie houms of Yarrow.' can be more retired, or thoroughly pastoral-look
"Oh fare ye weel, my ladye gaye! ing, than the country around the kirk, manse, and Oh fare ye weel, my Sarah! bridge of Yarrow, and it is impossible for a For I maun gae, though I nc'er return, stranger, who may be in the habit of exercising
Frae the dowie banks of Yarrow.' his reflective powers as he journeys along, to pass “She kissed his check, she kaimed his hair, by this simple House of God, humbly reared,
As oft she had done before, 0);
She belted him with his noble brand, as it is, among these extensive wilds, without
And he's away to Yarrow. feeling how calm, and pure, and uncontaminated
“As he gaed up the Tinnis bank, with worldly thought and the bustle of busy I wot he gaed wi' sorrow, life, must be—or, at least, ought to be--the Till down in a den, he spied nine armed men,
On the dowie houms of Yarrow. worship that is likely to arise from beneath its grey roof. This is, indeed, a peaceful scene now; ««« Oh come ye here to part your land, but, from various appearances, as well as tra
The bouny forest thorough?
Or come ye here to wield your brand, ditions, this particular ncighbourhood would seem
On the dowie houms of Yarrow ?' to have frequently witnessed bloody and fatal feuds. It must be a charming place of tem
“ I come not here to part my land,
And neither to beg nor borrow; porary sojourn for the angler, for we took occasion
I come to wield my noble brand, to lean over the bridge, and narrowly to inspect On the bonny banks of Yarrow. the river running under it, when we discovered
“If I see all, ye're nine to ane; many fine trouts, and some of them of a very And that's an unequal marrow; large size. The new statistical account says,
Yet will I fight while lasts my brand. that “salmon, grilse, whitling, trout, eels, par,
On the bonny banks of Yarrow.' minnows, barbels, and sticklebacks, tenant the “ Four has he hurt, and five has slain, rivers.” But we suspect that few clean salmon
On the bloody braes of Yarrow,
Till that stubborn knight came him behind, or grilses get as high as this, in such condition as And run his body thorough. to afford good sport to the angler, or good food to
"Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John, It is remarkable that lampreys used to And tell your sister, Sarah, come up here to spawn, and, if we do not mistake,
To come and lift her leafu' lord;
Hle's sleeping sound on Yarrow.' we ourselves saw several sticking to the stones, near the bridge, like floating pieces of tangle.
“ 'Yestreen, I dreamed a doleful dream,
I fear there will be sorrow; It would seem that two sanguinary and fatal
I dreamed I pou'd the heather green, eombats took place hereabouts, in ancient times, Wi' my true love, on Yarrow. and it appears to be very difficult to determine, to
"* O gentle wind, that bloweth south, which of the two the old ballad, called the From where my lovo repaireth,
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
His merryemen are a' in ae liverge clad, And tell me how he fareth!
O'the Lincone grene say gae to see; "But in the glen strive armed men;
He and his ladye in purple clad, They've wrought me dole and sorrow;
0! gin they lived not royallie !" They've slain-the comliest knight they're slainHe bleeding lies on Yarrow.'
This bold and gallant knight was in no other “As she sped down yon high, high hill,
respect an outlaw than this, that he thought he She gaed wi' dole and sorrow,
had reason to believe himself as much king of the And in the den, spied ten slain men,
surrounding forest, which he won by his sword from On the dowie banks of Yarrow.
the Southrons, as the King, James V., who, we "She kissed his cheek, she kaimed his hair,
think, then reigned, believed himself to be king She searched his wounds all thorough; She kissed them till her lips grew red,
of Scotland. Nothing in the ballad would lead On the dowie houms of Yarrow.
us to imagine that Murray abused his power by “ Now, haud your tongue, my daughter, dear!
acting the tyrant within that which he held to be For atbis breeds but sorrow;
his own natural jurisdiction. The ballad is very I'll wed ye to a better lord
interesting, and the whole story of it may be told Than him ye lost on Yarrow.'
in two words. A report reaches the king, in"O haud your tongue, my father, dear!
forming him of the princely and independent life Ye mind me but of sorrow;
which Murray leads. The king resolves to bring A fairer rose did never bloom, Than now lies cropped on Yarrow.'"
him under his dominion, and marches with a
strong force to bring him to reason. As we proceed downwards from the Dowie Houms of Yarrow, the banks of the river con- “ The king was coming through Cadon Ford,
And full five thousand men was he, tract, and the scenery becomes more picturesque,
They saw the derke foreste them before, and nothing can be more romantic than the old
They thought it awsome for to see.” place of Ilangingshaw, for ages the property of that ancient family the Murrays of Philiphaugh, But the king, unwilling to proceed to extremities but now belonging to Mr. Johnstone of Alva. with a knight who appears to have been of noble The castle, which stood on a commanding ter- and gallant courage and character, expresses a race, about half-way up the hill on the left bank desire to treat, and at last, after much negotiaof the river, was unfortunately burned by acci- tion, he grants such terms, at Murray's request, dent about seventy years ago, when Miss Mur- that he cannot refuse to accept of them, and so ray of Philiphaugh, sister of the present laird, he at once becomes a faithful and powerful vassal
of the crown. the lady who was afterwards mother of the present Sir John Murray Nasmyth, of Posso, was «« Thir landis of Ettricke Foreste fair, saved from the flames as a child, by being extri- I wan them from the enemie; cated through a small window. Nothing now
Like as I wan tbem, sale will I keep them,
Contrair a' kingis in Christentie.' remains of the ruins but a few feet of the wall
"All the nobilis the king about, and some outhouses. There was great grief in
Said pity it were to see him deethe country in consequence of this misfortune, as ‘Yet grant me mercie, sovereign prince, the proprietor and his family were much beloved Extend your favour unto me. for their many virtues—virtues which hare not “I'll give the keys of my castell, been lost in the person of his present representa
Wi' the blessing o' my gay ladye,
Gin thou'lt make me sherife of this foreste, tive, the brother of Lady Nasmyth, whom we
And a' my offspring after me.' have had for some years the advantage of know
« • Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castell, ing and respecting, as one of the most honour
Wi' the blessing of thy gaye ladye? able, upright, and straightforward gentlemen
I'll make thee sheriffe of Ettricke Foreste, with whom we have ever been acquainted. This
Surely while upward grows the tree;
If you do not traitour to the king, was certainly the building which is so pointedly Forfaulted sall thou nevir be.' noticed in the old ballad of the “
Song of the Outlaw Murray,” who was an ancestor of the Murray, with great honour to himself, then propresent family. The ballad itself is too long for ceeds to make terms for the safety of all his allies entire quotation, but thus it begins :
and followers, and these being all generously
settled by the king to his new vassal's satisfac“Ettricke Foreste is a fair foreste,
tion, that which had threatened to have produced In it grows manie a semelie trie; There's hart, and hynd, and dae, and rae,
a most sanguinary conílict was happily and peaceAnd of a' wild bestis grete plentie.
fully terminated without a drop of blood being There's a fair castelle, biggit wi' lyme and stane, shed.
0! gin it stands not pleasauntlie! In the fore front o' thai castelle fair,
We never can forget that delicious day of idleTwa unicorns are bra' to see;
ness which we spent amidst the shades of IlangThere's the picture of a knight, and a ladye bright, ingshaw. The umbrage of the timber is magniAn' the grene hollin abune their brie."
ficent, and what we most rejoiced in were the Scott tells us that Mr. Plummer, the sheriff- rows of grand old yew trees, which are such as depute of Selkirkshire, had assured him, that he are rarely to be met with. The scene is altowell remembered the insignia of the unicorns ex-gether a woodland one, and it exhibits the reisting on the old Tower of Hangingshaw. mains of symmetrical gardening, run, by neglect, "There an outlaw keepis five hundred men;
into wildness. How we wished to have been able He keepis a royalle cumpanie :
to have reared up the old house again, as if with It ap
the wand of a magician, even if the consequence growing, natural oaks, and overgrown with the had been that we should have been compelled to richest herbage of plants that artist could desire, drink off the famous “ Hangingshaw Ladle” full whilst the stream itself rushes fiercely and preof that potent ale which, whilst the ancient family cipitously along, boiling, eddying, and sparkling flourished here, always stood on tap to slake the among the rocks and stones, producing the utmost thirst of all comers whatsoever.
animation and variety. A walk conducts along Passing the modern place of Broadmeadows the right bank, and the whole forms a part of the situation of which, on the left bank, is very | the grounds of his Grace the Duke of Buccleuch's charming, we come next to Newark Castle, on hunting seat of Bowhill, which, with its extenthe right bank-perhaps the most interesting sive plantations, may be said to fill the whole object on the whole stream of the Yarrow, whe- space lying within the point of junction of the ther we consider its picturesque effect, its ro- Ettrick and Yarrow. mantic situation, or the many interesting asso- A little way below Newark, but on the left bank ciations that are connected with it. Its name of of the river, is the Harehead wood, where Mr. Newark seems to have been given to it to dis-Murray, of Philiphaugh, has built himself a very tinguish it from a much more ancient castle pretty residence. And still lower down than this, which once stood 9 mm where in this neighbour- lies the extensive battle-plain of Philiphaugh, hood, called Auld Wark, which is said to have opposite to the town of Selkirk. Before crossing been founded by Alexander III. Both were origi- to Selkirk we shall hastily touch on some of the Bally designed for the residence of the sovereign circumstances connected with the battle. when he went to hunt in Ettrick Forest. It pears to be most strange that Leslie could have seer..s to have been held by the celebrated outlaw advanced with his small army by so long and cirMurray, and to have at that time formed part of cuitous a route towards Philiphaugh without Monthe property regarding which he negotiated with trose, who was living in Selkirk, having been made James V. In later times it was granted to the
aware of it.
But the fact is, the Marquis was so family of Buccleuch, who made it an occasional hated by the people about here, that no informaresidence for more than a century. Ilere, it is tion was allowed to reach him. On the other said, that the Duchess of Monmouth and Buc-hand, every one seems to have been ready to assist cleuch was broucht up, and it was probably for Leslie, and certain willing and faithfulguides whom this reason that Sir Walter Scott chose to adopt he fell in with, conducted a portion of his small it as the scene in whie! the old harper is made force, round by a circuitous path, in such a way to chaunt the " Lay of the Last Minstrel” for as to place it directly in rear of the Royal army. ber amusement.
The surprise was sudden and fatal, and Montrose “ Je passed where Newark's stately tower
himself was so little prepared for it, that he had Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower :
hardly time to reach the field of battle, so as to The minstrel gazed with wishiul eye, No humbler resting place was nigh.
participate in the defeat. We have seen a curiWith hesitating step at last,
ous silver locket, found on the field of Philiphaugh, The cabattled portal-arch he passed,
and now in the possession of Mr. Graham of Whose pondrous grate, and ma sy bar Had oft rolled back the tile of war;
Lynedoch. It is heart-shaped-on one side there But never closed the iron door
is carved a long straight heavy sword, and below it A ainst the desolate and poor. The Luchiess marked luis weary pace,
a winged heart, showing probably that it belonged Ilis tinid mien end reverend face,
to a Douglas-on the other side is a heart pierced And bade ber prge the merials tell,
through with darts, with the motto, “I live and That they should tend the old man well; For she had known adresity,
dye for loyaltye.” On opening it, there is enThough born in such a high degree ;
graven on the inside of the lid, “I mourne for In pride of power, in beauty's bloom,
Monarchie,'' and the locket contains a most beaullad wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb.”
tiful minute a'to-relievo likeness of Montrose. A horrible association is attached to the court- Now let us singyard of this ca:tle, for here it is said that General Leslie, the conqueror at Philiphaugh, did sum
“Up wi' thc sutors o' Selkirk.” mary military execution on some of the prisoners for honester or buulder fellows are nowhere to be taken there, and we do not shudder the less at found. We, for our part, shall never forget the this crueliy, that we happen to have his blood in circumstance of our being invited by them to a our veins.
large meeting, which was got up expressly in our On the opposite bank of the river stands an honour, and where we had the satisfaction of humble cottaga, nestled among the wood ; but being listened to with great attention by them lively and unpretending as its roof may be, it and the good and true men of Galashiels, who mly well claim to be noticed among the proudest likewise appeared there, whilst we unfolded to of the objects of which this highly favoured them some of our liberal doctrines. These Yarrow can boat. Here it was that the justly were the descendants of those brave men who celebrated and enterprising Vungo Park first saw marched to Flodden, and perished in that the light. The name of the larm is Fowlshiels. fatal field. That exquisitely beautiful song,
We know of sc w rivers, cither in the Highlands the “ Flowers of the Forest,” as it is now known, or Lowlands, which afford more beautiful rocky was composed by a lady in Roxburghshire scenery than the Yarrow does here.
Its steep many years ago, to the ancient tune of the old banks are fringed with the most elegant, free-| ballad, the words of which are now almost en
tirely lost. The first and last lines of the first and peaceful-looking lakes that ever was seen, stanza of the existing verses are part of the old The banks of the lake, as they recede from the ballad.
eye into the deer-park, are lawny, and charm
ingly wooded. The terrace is ornamented with “I've heard them lilting, at the ewe milking,
fine statues, and, in short, the tout ensemble is Lasses a' lilting, before dawn of day; But now they are moaning on ilku green loaning;
like a scene freshly imported from Italy. And The flowers of the forest are a' wede away."
at the time we last saw it, as already alluded to,
it was, indeed, altogether Italian ; for the heat Close to Selkirk is one of the most lovely and was so intense that we could not exist in the unique spots which is anywhere to be found - house, and, accordingly, our evenings were spent we mean “ The Haining.' We never shall for- sitting listlessly on the terrace, watching the get the wonderful effect of this scene when we gamekeepers fishing from the boats with their were first introduced to it as a juvenile angler. nets, and in the enjoyment of the lorely scene It appeared to us rather like some dream of the and balmy air, and occasionally puffing a cigar, fancy than anything real. And, alas! we cannot, or imbibing a refreshing draught of hock and without deep grief, recal our last visit to this spot soda-water. Alas! our amiable and kind host of fairy-land, which took place a short time pre- is now no more! vious to the death of our friend, Mr. Pringle, of Below Selkirk, the valley of the Ettrick widens, . Clifton, the late proprietor. The house, of large and the river presents few objects of interest until size and, in some respects, somewhat Italian in its junction with the Tweed, which we have alits style, is found standing on a long architectural ready had occasion to notice, takes place immeterrace, hanging over one of the most beautiful ) diately below Sunderland Hall,
BY TIOMAS DE QUINCEY.
At a very early age commenced my own inte defying radical extirpation. What I heard read rest in the mystery that surrounds secret socie- aloud from the Abbé gare that dreadful cancerous ties; the mystery being often double-1. What character to the plot against Christianity. This they do ; and 2. What they do it for. Except plot, by the Abbé's account, stretched its horrid as to the premature growth of this interest, there fangs, and threw out its forerunning feelers and was nothing surprising in that. For everybody tentacles into many nations, and more than one that is by nature meditative must regard, with century. That perplexed me, though also fascia feeling higher than any vulgar curiosity, small nating me by its grandeur. Ilow men, living in fraternities of men forming themselves as sepa- distant periods and distant places—men that did rate and inner vortices within the great vortex not know each other, nay, often had not even of society, communicating silently in broad day- heard of each other, nor spoke the same lanlight by signals not even seen, but if seen, not guages—could yet be parties to the same treason understood except among themselves, and con- against a mighty religion towering to the highest. nected by the link either of purposes not safe to heavens, puzzled my comprehension. Then, also, be avowed, or by the grander link of awful truths when wickedness was so easy, why did they tako which, merely to shelter themselves from the hos- | all this trouble to be wicked? The how and the tility of an age unprepared for their reception, why were alike mysterious to me. Yet the Abbé, must retire, perhaps for generations, behind thick everybody said, was a good man; incapable of curtains of secrecy. To be hidden amidst crowds telling falsehoods, or of countenancing falsehoods; is sublime—to come down hidden amongst crowds and, indeed, to say that was superfluous as refrom distant generations, is doubly sublime. garded myself; for every man that wrote a book
The first incident in my own childish expe- was in my eyes an essentially good man, being a rience that threw my attention upon the possibi- revealer of hidden truth. Things in MS. might lity of such dark associations, was the Abbé be doubtful, but things printed were unavoidably Baruel's book, soon followed by a similar book of and profoundly true. So that if I questioned Professor Robison’s, in demonstration of a regu- and demurred as hotly as an infidel would have lar conspiracy throughout Europe for extermi- done, it never was that by the slightest shade I nating Christianity. This I did not read, but I had become tainted with the infirmity of scepiiheard it read and frequently discussed. I had cism. On the contrary, I believed everybody as already Latin enough to know that cancer meant well as everything. And, indeed, the very starta crab, and that the disease so appalling to a ing-point of my too importunate questions was child's imagination, which in English we call a exactly that incapacity of scepticism--not any cancer, as soon as it has passed beyond the state lurking jealousy that even part might be false, of an indolent schirrous tumour, drew its name but confidence too absolute that the whole must from the horrid claws, or spurs, or roots, by which be true; since the more undeniably a thing was it connected itself with distant points, running certain, the more clamorously I called upon underground, as it were, baflling detection, and people to make it intelligible. Other people,