Full text of "The ballads and songs of Ayrshire"

See other formats

LIBRARY

OF THE

University of California.

Class VZQlo

■

' i"

///

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2007 with funding from

Microsoft Corporation

http://www.archive.org/details/balladssongsofayOOpaterich

THE

BALLADS AND SONGS

■

OF AYRSHIRE,

ILLUSTRATED WITH

SKETCHES, HISTORICAL, TRADITIONAL,
NARRATIVE AND BIOGRAPHICAL.

Old King Coul was a merry old soul,

And a jolly old soul was he ;
Old King Coul he had a brown bowl,

And they brought him in fiddlers three.

EDINBURGH:
THOMAS G. STEVENSON,

HISTORICAL AND ANTIQUARIAN BOOKSELLER,

87 PRINCES STREET.

MDCCCXLVII.

CFTMS

IVCRSI1

INTRODUCTION.

Renfrewshire has her Harp — why not Ayrshire her Lyre ? The land
that gave birth to Burns may well claim the distinction of a separate Re-
pository for the Ballads and Songs which belong to it. In this, the First
Series, it has been the chief object of the Editor to gather together the
older lyrical productions connected with the county, intermixed with a
slight sprinkling of the more recent, by way of lightsome variation. The
aim of the work is to collect those pieces, ancient and modern, which,
scattered throughout various publications, are inaccessible to many
readers ; and to glean from, oral recitation the floating relics of a former
age that still exist in living remembrance, as well as to supply such in-
formation respecting the subject or author as maybe deemed interesting.
The songs of Burns — save, perhaps, a few of the more rare — having been
already collected in numerous editions, and consequently well known, will
form no part of the Repository. In distinguishing the Ballads and Songs
of Ayrshire, the Editor has been, and will be, guided by the connec-
tion they have with the district, either as to the author or subject ; and
now that the First Series is before the public, he trusts that, whatever
may be its defects, the credit at least will be given Jiim of aiming, how-
ever feebly, at the construction of a lasting monument of the lyrical
literature of Ayrshire. He hopes farther, should encouragement be
vouchsafed to. go on with the collection, that all interested in the labour
he has imposed upon himself, and who have it in their power, will be wil-
ling to assist by "throwing a stone to the cairn."

Ayrshire has probably been more deficient in musical composers than
in poets, or ballad writers. Amongst the earliest of the latter, of whom
we find any notice, is "the gude Schir Hew of Eglintoun," mentioned in
Dunbar's " Lament for the Death of the Makars," which poem must have
been written before 1508, when it appeared in Millar and Chepman's Mis-
cellany. Schir Hew is understood to have been the last of the old Eg-
lintons of Eglinton, whose daughter was espoused by John deMontgomerie
of Egleshame. He is conjectured to have written the romances of " Ar-
thur " and " Gawan," and the " Epistle of Susanna," pieces not known —
their names only being preserved in Wintoun's Chronicle. Walter. Ken-
nedy is another of the Ayrshire "Makars" mentioned in Dunbar's La-
ment—

" Gud Maister Walter Kennedy,

In poynt of dede lyis veraly,

Gret reuth it wer that so suld be ;

Timor mortis conxurbat me."
Some particulars of Kennedy and his writings will be found in the follow-
ing pages. So of Montgomerie, author of the " Cherrie and the Slae,"
Hamilton of Gilbertfield, &c. In later times Ayrshire can boast of the
name of Burns, Boswell, and a host of living "Makars," who, when the
flight of time has thrown a halo round their memories, will be regarded
as writers of no common merit.

Fate has not been so favourable to our composers of music as to our
" Makars." of poetry. Few of the names of the earlier race of them are
even known. The greater number of our most beautiful melodies are

08798

INTRODUCTION.

without paternity, and cannot be assigned to any particular district of
the country. A distinction has no doubt been attempted to be drawn be-
tween Highland and Lowland music ; but this cannot well be sustained in
the face of the fact that, until comparatively recent times, the bagpipe
was the prevailing instrument in the Lowlands as well as the Highlands.
Every burgh, town, village and baron had their piper or pipers. Ayr
had her "minstrels," as the town's pipers were called, in 1558;* and
Within living remembrance many small burghs and villages retained their
civic musician. Thus it would be difficult to say whether those beauti-
tiful pipe tunes which have been altered to suit more modern instruments
and tastes,- or which have been gleaned in the Highlands, where the bag-
pipe has no doubt lingered longer, and in greater perfection than in the \
Lowlands, belonged originally to this or the other side of the Grampians ;
and consequently it would be equally hard to say whether any of them
can be claimed by Ayrshire. All that can be said is that not a few of
them were popular in Ayrshire from the earliest times ; and either were
originally, or had become in progress of time, so peculiar to the district,
that the musical world was ignorant of them until brought to light by the
contributions of Burns to Johnson's Museum. These might be particu- \
larised, were the works of Burns not so universally known. It may not \
be uninteresting to mention that several tunes and songs are incidentally \
referred to in the Presbytery books of Ayr, which are still popular, and \
were so upwards of a hundred years ago. For instance, in 1720, John i
Chalmers of Burnton, and others in the parish of Dalmellington, were I
brought before the Presbytery, upon appeal from the Kirk-session of i
that parish, charged with dancing and singing on a fast-day morning.
They had been at a wedding the night before in the house of the school-
master ; and the singing and dancing took place in Shaw of Grimmets',
whither the revellers had retired. The tune to which they danced, the
witnesses averred, was " the tune of that sang that's commonly called The
Sow's Taillis to Geordie" Several gave evidence to this effect; and they
appeared to be well acquainted with the tune — some of them recognising
the words, " the sow's tail till him yet." Another of the songs sung upon
the occasion was " Up and Waur them a' Willie," which, if originally a
Jacobite song, must have been then altogether new, as it could not refer,
as such, to any event previous to 1715.

If it cannot be shown upon positive data that Ayrshire has a right to
claim any of the. earlier melodies of Scotland, she has, at all events, not
lacked musicians and composers in later times. Among these, though
perhaps not the most eminent, the name of M'Gill is familiar. The first
notice we have of the family occurs in the parochial register of births for
Ayr, as follows :— " John M'Gill, son lawful to Wm. M'Gill, violer in the
Newtoune of Ayr, and Mary Hunter his spouse, was born on Wednesday,
Deer, first, 1699." John, however, seems to have died in infancy, for the
same parties have another son, baptized John, born 30th August, 1707.
This latter son of " Willie M'Gill " was, in all likelihood, the well known
" Johnnie M'Gill," who is still remembered as an excellent violincello
player, and who has the reputation of having composed several airs. If
the same individual, he must have been long absent from his native place,
and had no doubt led a chequered life ; for he is said to have figured in
Ayr as a stage doctor immediately prior to his settling down as the assist-
ant of another locally celebrated violer, John Riddel. Riddel was the
composer of several popular airs — such as "Jenny's Bawbee," "The

* See " History of Ayrshire," page 190, where some curious particulars are men-
tioned regarding them.

INTRODUCTION.

Merry Lads o' Ayr," " Stewarton Lasses," "Dumfries House," &c. He
was an excellent player in his day — so much so that Lord Archibald
Montgomerie, upon one occasion, laid a bet that he would get a blind
man* in Ayr who would beat all the violin players in Edinburgh* f Rid-
del had a small salary from all the gentlemen of any note in the county,
at whose residences it was his duty to attend at stated periods, and as
often as he pleased or found it convenient during the rest of the year.
He was never without a pupil, or an apprentice — for in these days the pupils
were regularly apprenticed to their teacher, whom they styled Master ;
and it was the duty of the apprentice to accompany the master in all his
excursions. Amongst other pupils of Riddel was Weymis Gillespie —
another violer whose name deserves to be recorded. By this time Riddel
had become very old, and dared not expose himself to rough weather or
much fatigue. Gillespie, his pupil, had, upon one occasion, an engage-
ment at a carpenters' ball in Ayr, and, being a young man, his heart as
well as his bow was in the projected merry-making. Unfortunately,
upon that very day, he was called by his master to attend him in a special
visit to one of his country patrons. This, at first sight, seemed a death-
blow to Gillespie's diversion ; still he was determined not to forego the
pleasure, if at all possible. " We're gaun to hae a guid day, I think," said
the old blind master to his pupil, as he consulted him about their journey.
"No very sure o' that, master," said Gillespie, upon whose brain instantly
flashed the idea of a stratagem which might emancipate him from his
dilemma. " Gi'e wa' out an' see what the day looks like," rejoined the
old man. Gillespie did as he was required; and, though the sun was clear
and the sky bright, reported on returning that he was afraid it would
overcast, as he saw certain ominous clouds gathering very rapidly. Rid-
del, at all times anxious to attend to the calls of his patrons, was unwil-
ling to remain at home, and repeatedly despatched Gillespie to ascer-
tain the state of the weather. Appearances always became worse with
the apprentice, till at length he returned with the intelligence that it was
"an even-down pour !" Old Riddel, somewhat dubious, was led to the
door to satisfy himself of the fact. Gillespie, during his last absence, had,
with the assistance of a friend, so fastened a large birch broom, thoroughly
soaked in water, over the lintel of the door, that the moment the old man
groped his way out the water fell upon his bare head like a shower
bath. " Richt eneuch, richt eneuch, Gillespie, we canna gang in sic
weather as this ;" and so Old Riddel was satisfied, and Gillespie pre-
pared to enjoy the carpenter's ball in the evening.

James Tannock, who died at the age of ninety-nine, was one of John
Riddel's pupils : so was Matthew Hall or Ha', who, now upwards of four-
score, lives in Newton-on- Ayr. Though almost completely deaf, yet when
made aware, by writing, that the subject is the musical reminiscences of
former times, the old spirit revives, and his stories are truly interesting.
He must have been a muscular man in his day; but when playing at
Shinty upon one occasion, the joint of his right elbow was split in two by
a stroke, and he never had the proper power of his arm afterwards. He
was, in consequence, obliged to give up the small fiddle for the violincello
— upon which instrument he became as great a proficient, if not greater,
than upon the other. As is well known in Ayrshire, the late Earl of Eg-
linton was one of the chief patrons of muscians in the county. He was
himself a first-rate player upon the violincello and harp, and composed a
number of airs — several of which, such as " Ayrshire Lasses," are still po-

* Riddel was blind, it is believed, from infancy,
f The Grows were not at that time in repute.

INTRODUCTION.

polar. A collection of music, published " by a young gentleman,
the close of last century, when he was Major Montgomerie, is generally \
understood to have been his. Mr Hall mentions that he was forty-five
years in the habit of frequenting Coilsfield and Eglinton Castle in his ca-
pacity as musician. His chief co-adjutor was James M'Lachlan, a High-
lander, who came to Ayrshire in a fencible regiment, and was patronised
by Lord Eglinton. At concerts at the Castle, the late Earl generally took
a part on the violincello or the harp, and amongst other professional
players on the violin, blind Gilmour from Stevenston was usually pre-
sent. " O thae war the days for music !" involuntarily exclaims old Hall,
as he proceeds with his reminiscences. Lately when the Castle of Eglin-
ton was re-furnished, a number of violins and violincellos were discover-
ed in a garret — no doubt the identical valuable instruments so much I
prized by the old Earl. Not knowing their history or their worth, the |
party into whose hands they fell, gave them away to individuals equally
incapable of appreciating them. Hall and M'Lachlan played over the whole \
county, at all the gentlemen's residences, and even in Edinburgh and Glas- 5
gow on great occasions. In one week, to use his own words, they have £
" passed twenty-six parish kirks, and returned to Ayr on Friday to a ball, >
never getting to bed till Saturday night." They obtained snatches of }
sleep as they best could during the intervals of playing and travelling. \
At one time Hall and M'Lachlan were at the Duke of Argyle's for six \
months together. M'Lachlan had been there before as footman to Lord {
John Campbell. It was a time of much festivity — a blind Irish harper of
the name of O'Kean, was also amongst the party of musicians, The har- j
per, conceiving himself to have been eclipsed by the violin players, or
fancying an insult from the Duke of Argyle, left the party, and brib-
ing some boys to procure materials, actually set fire to the lower part of In- \
verary Castle, which would soon have been wholly in flames, but for the \
timely discovery of the rascally act. The incendiary was taken to Inver- \
ary Jail, and no doubt met the punishment he deserved. Mr Hall's bass \
fiddle was a present from the late Countess of Eglinton. It is perhaps \
worth mentioning that he was the first Mason ever made by the poet \
Burns. Burns himself was made by Alexander Wood, a tailor in Tarbol-
ton.

The late Major Logan was a delightful amateur player on the violin.
He also composed a variety of airs — some of them very excellent, but,
from his own peculiar style of playing, so difficult of execution that few
would attempt them. The collection which he left, however, might be
capable of revisal and alteration. If so, it is most desirable that they
should see the light. In more recent times the Messrs Hall of Ayr have
long maintained a high reputation as violin players — so have the Andrews
in Lave-mill, near Dundonald ; while there is scarcely a village through-
out the county that has not its instrumental or vocal club.

f or the

c- ,

INDEX

Johnie Faa,

Strephon and Lydia,

Lady Mary Aftn,

Old King Coul,

The Heir of Linne,

I had a horse, and I had nae mair,

May Colvin,

The Lass of Patie's Mill,

The Battle of Pentland Hill,

Hughie Graham,

The Battle of Loudoun Hill,

O'er the Moor amang the heather,

Paterson's Filly Gaes Foremost, .

Thfi Noble Family of Montgomcrie,

The Nicht is Neir Gone,

Loudoun Castle,

Sang on the Lady Margaret Montgomerie,

My Ain Fireside,

The Prais of Aige,

Kellyburnbraes,

As I cam' down by yon Castle wa',

Tam o' the Balloch,

Kirkdamdie Fair, ...

The Auld Fleckit Cow,

Peter Galbraith,

The Bloody Raid, ...

My Doggie,

The Lady's Dream,

Says I, quo' I, ...

Tho Auld Man's Croon,

I am a Jolly Farming Man,

100

103

1C8

112

113

116

118

119

BALLADS AND SONGS

OF AYRSHIRE.

afofmie dFaa.

The gypsies cam' to our gude lord's yett,

And O but they sang sweetly ;
They sang sae sweet and sae very complete,

That doun cam' our fair lady.

And she cam' tripping down the stair,

And all her maids before her ;
As sune as they saw her weel-fa'ured face,

They cuist the glaumourye o'er her.

" O come with me," says Johnie Faa ;

" O come with me, my dearie ;
For I vow and I swear by the hilt of my sword,

That your lord shall nae mair come near ye !,j

Then she gied them the gude wheit breid,

And they ga'e her the ginger ;
But she gied them a far better thing,

The gowd ring aff her finger.

" Gae tak' frae me this gay mantil,

And bring to me a plaidie ;
For if kith and kin and a' had sworn,

I'll follow the gipsy laddie.

JOHNIE FA A.

" Yestreen I lay in a weel-made bed,

Wi' my gude lord beside me ;
This night I'll lie in a tenant's barn,

Whatever shall betide me."

" Come to your bed," says Johnie Faa ;

" O Come to your bed, my dearie ;
For I vow and I swear by the hilt of my sword,

That your lord shall nae mair come near ye I"

" I'll go to bed to my Johnie Faa ;

I'll go to bed to my dearie ;
For I vow and I swear by the fan in my hand,

That my lord shall nae mair come near me."

" I'll mak' a hap to my Johnie Faa ;

I'll mak' a hap to my dearie ;
And he's get a' the sash gaes round,

And my lord shall nae mair come near me."

And when our lord cam' hame at e'en,

And speired for his fair lady,
The tane she cried, and the tither replied,

" She's awa' with the gipsy laddie."

" Gae saddle to me the black black steed,

G-ae saddle and mak' him ready ;
Before that I either eat or sleep,

I'll gae seek my fair lady."

And we were fifteen weel-made men,

Although we were na bonnie ;
And we were a' put down for ane,

A fair young wanton lady.

There are several versions of this ballad, but the above is decidedly the
best. It is, besides, the one familiar in Ayrshire, and may therefore be
presumed the most correct. The version entitled, " Gypsie Davie," pub-

lished in Motherwell's Collection, from the recitation of an old woman,
seems as if it were an interpolation of the original, designed to render
the conduct of the lady more censurable and unaccountable —

" Yestreen I lay in a fine feather bed,

And my gude lord beyond me ;
But this night I maun lye in some cauld tenant's barn,

A wheen blackguards waiting on me."

This is assuredly not the language of even a " wanton lady," who had been
induced to leave her " gude lord" either by love or glaumourye. The ver-
sion we have copied is from the Collection by Finlay, who added consider-
ably to the imperfect one which first appeared in the Tea Table Miscellany.
He also appended some traditional particulars of the subject of the ballad.
Upon these Chambers, in his "Picture of Scotland," constructs the fol-
lowing apparently very circumstantial story : —

" John, the sixth Earl of Cassillis, a stern Covenanter, and of whom it
is recorded by Bishop Burnet, that he never would permit his language
to be understood but in its direct sense, obtained to wife Lady Jean Ha-
milton, a daughter of Thomas, first Earl of Haddington, a man of singu-
lar genius, who had raised himself from the Scottish bar to a peerage
and the best fortune of his time. The match, as is probable from the
character of the parties, seems to have been one dictated by policy ; for
Lord Haddington was anxious to connect himself with the older peers, and
Lord Cassillis might have some such anxiety to be allied to his father-in-
law 's good estates ; the religion and the politics of the parties, moreover,
were the same. It is therefore not very likely that Lady Jean herself
had much to say in the bargain. On the contrary, says report, her af-
fections were shamefully violated. She had been previously beloved by
a gallant young knight, a Sir John Faa of Dunbar, who had perhaps
seen her at her father's seat of Tynningham, which is not more than
three miles from the town. When several years were spent and gone,
and Lady Cassillis had brought her husband three children, this passion
led to a dreadful catastrophe. Her youthful lover, seizing an oppor-
tunity when the Earl was attending the Assembly of Divines at West-
minster, came to Cassillis Castle, a massive old tower on the banks of
the Doon, four miles from Maybole, then the principal residence of the
family, and which is still to be seen in its original state. He was dis-
guised as a gipsy, and attended by a band of these desperate outcasts.
In the words of the ballad,

" They cuist the glaumourye ower her."

But love has a glaumourye for the eyes much more powerful than that

JOIINIE FAA.

supposed of old to be practised by wandering gypsies, and which must
have been the only magic used on this occasion. The Countess conde-
scended to elope with her lover. Most unfortunately, (?) ere they had pro-
ceeded very far, the Earl came home, and, learning the fact, immediately
set out in pursuit. Accompanied by a band which put resistance out of
the question, he overtook them, and captured the whole party, at a ford
over the Doon, still called the Gypsies' Steps, a few miles from the
Castle. He brought them back to Cassillis, and there hanged all the
gypsies, including the hapless Sir John, upon " the Dule Tree," a splen-
did and most umbrageous plane, which yet flourishes on a mound in front
of the Castle Gate, and which was his gallows-in-ordinary, as the name
testifies. As for the Countess, whose indiscretion occasioned all this
waste of human life, she was taken by her husband to a window in front
of the Castle, and there, by a refinement of cruelty, compelled to sur-
vey the dreadful scene — to see, one after another, fifteen gallant men
put to death, and at last to witness the dying agonies of him who had
first been dear to her, and who had periled all that men esteem in her
behalf. The particular room in the stately old house where the unhappy
lady endured this horrible torture, is still called "the Countess's Room."
After undergoing a short confinement in that apartment, the house be-
longing to the family at Maybole was fitted for her reception, by the
addition of a fine projecting staircase, upon which were carved heads re-
presenting those of her lover and his band ; and she was removed thither
and confined for the rest of her life — the Earl in the meantime marrying
another wife. One of her daughters, Lady Margaret, was afterwards
married to the celebrated Gilbert Burnet. While confined in Maybole
Castle, she is said to have wrought a prodigious quantity of tapestry, so
as to have completely covered the walls of her prison ; but no vestige of
it is now to be seen, the house having been repaired, {otherwise ruined) a
few years ago, when size-paint had become a more fashionable thing in
Maybole than tapestry. The effigies of the gypsies are very minute,
being subservient to the decoration of a fine triple window at the top of
the staircase, and stuck upon the tops and bottoms of a series of little
pilasters, which adorn that part of the building. The head of Johnie Faa
himself is distinct from the rest, larger, and more lachrymose in the ex-
pression of the features. Some windows in the upper part of Cassillis
Castle are similarly adorned j but regarding them tradition is silent."

We do not know what authority Chambers has for identifying the lady
who played so unenviable a part in the drama. Unless he has positive
evidence to show that she was the Countess of John, the sixth Earl of Cas-
sillis, we should be strongly inclined, from a document which we have
seen and copied, to doubt the fact. This is a letter of the Earl of Cas-
sillis, inviting Lord Eglinton to the funeral of his Countess. From the

JOIINIE FAA.

date — 15th December, 1642 — the parties could be no other than John,
the sixth Earl, and Lady Jean Hamilton. The following is a verbatim
copy of the letter : —

" My noble lord. It hath pleaseit the Almightie to tak my deir bed-
fellow frome this valley of teares to hir home (as hir Best in hir last
wordis called it). There remaines now the last duetie to be done to that
pairt of hir left with ws, qch I intend to pforme vpoun the ffyft of Jan-
uar nixt. This I intreat may be honoured with yor. Lo. presence, heir
at Cassillis, yt. day, at Ten in the morning, and from this to our buriall
place at Mayboille, qch shalbe taken as a mark of yor. Lo. affectioun to

yor. Lo. humble servant,

Cassillis.

CassiUis, the 15th Dcr., 1642. "

Here we have two arguments against the probability of Chambers's state-
ment—^first, the Earl's expressing himself in terms of the warmest affection
towards his late Countess — "my deir bedfellow" — which he could hardly
have been expected to do if she had been the heroine of the ballad : and,
secondly, the lady dying at Cassillis House — from whence the funeral was
to proceed — which is not at all likely to have been the case had she been
the erring Countess who was confined in May bole Castle. The Earl of
Eglinton could not, it appears, attend the funeral, in consequence of the
urgency of public affairs. His reply may be deemed curious : —

[Copy of Lord Eglinton 's reply, scrolled on the same leaf of
paper.]
" My Lo.

I am sorrowfull from my soul for yor. Lo. great losse and
heavie visitatioun, and regraits much that I cannot have ye libertie from
my Lord Chancellor to come and doe yat last duty and respect I am byd
to. And I will earnestly entreat yor. Lo. not to tak this for an excuse,
for I have been verie instant for it. But yor. Lo. appointed day is ye
verie day ye meetting of ye Comittee of ye Consert at Air of peace — and
further, our partie, ye E. of Glencairne, is so instant yat he will grant no
delay in this matter. Yor. Lo. may persuade yourself it is ane very grit
grief to me to be absent from you. I will earnestly entreat yor. Lo. to
take all this Cristianly, as I am confident yor. Lor. will doe. I pray God
to comfort you wt. his wisdom, and resolve to be content with that which
comes from his hand, for none sail wish it more than I. You sail still
command

Yor. Lo.

Most obt. servt. "

JOHNIE FA A.

The style of this letter is another argument against the statement of Cham-
bers. It would have been insulting Cassillis to have used such consola-
tory language had the deceased " deir bedfellow" been the paramour of
Sir John Faa of Dunbar.

That the ballad was founded upon a reality — and that the main features
of the tragedy have been preserved by tradition — can scarcely be doubted ;
but as to the time, and the individual actors in it, there is good reason
for believing that we are yet in entire ignorance of both the one and the
other. " Johnie Faa " was no imaginary character. He was the acknow-
ledged head of the Egyptians, or Gypsies, in Scotland. Severe enact-
ments were passed against the tribe whose lawlessness and idle habits
were a great nuisance to the country. " Johnne Faw, Lord and Earl
of Little Egypt," as he was styled, had a letter under the Privy Seal,
from James V. — Feb. 15, 1540 — establishing his authority over the tribe,
and calling upon all sheriffs and persons in authority in Scotland to " as-
sist him in executioune of justice vpoun his company and folkis." As the
letter may be interesting to the reader we copy it : —

" Letter, under the Privy Seal, by King James V. in favour of * Johnne
Faw, Lord and Erie of Little Egypt.' Feb. 15, 1540.

"James, be the grace of God, King of Scottis: To oure Schereffis of
Edinburghe, principall, and within the constabularie of Hadingtoun, Ber-
wik, Roxburghe, Selkirk, Perth, Forfar, Fife, Clackmannane, Kinrose,
Kincardin, Abirdene, Banf, Elgin and Fores, Name, Innernese, Linlithqw,
Peblis, Striviling, Lanark, Renfrew, Dunbertane, Air, Dumfries, Bute,
and Wigtoun; Stewartis of Annanderdale, Kirkcudbrycht, Menteithe,
and Strath erne ; Baillies of Kile, Carrik, and Cunynghame ; and thaire
deputis; Provestis, aldermen, and bailies of oure burrowis and cieteis
of Edinburgh, Hadingtoun, Lawder, Jedburgh, Selkirk, Peblis, Perth,
Forfar, Cowper, Sanctandrois, Kincardin, Abirdene, Banf, Elgin and
Fores, Name, Innernese, Linlithqw, Striuiling, Lanark, Glasgow, Ruthir-
glenne, Renfrew, Dunbertane, Air, Dumfries, Wigtoun, Irwyne, Kirkcud-
bricht, Quhitterne; and to all otheris Schereffis, Stewartis, provestis,
auldermenne, and bailleis within oure realm e, greting. Forsamekill as
it is huimlie menit and schewin to ws be our louit, Johnne Faw, Lord and
Erle of Litit.l Egypt ; That quhair he obtenit oure Letters vnder oure
grete seile, direct to zow, all and sundry oure saidis Schereffis, stewartis,
baillies, prouestis, aldermen, and baillies of burrois, and to all and sindry
vthiris havand autorite within oure realme, to assist to him in exectioune
of justice vpoun his cumpany and folkis, conforme to the lawis of Egipt,

JOHNIE FAA.

and in punissing of all thaim that rebellis aganis him : Neuirtheles, as we
are informyt, Sebastiane Lalow, Egiptiane, ane of the said Johnnis cum-
pany, with his complices and pairt-takaris vnder- written, that is to say,
Anteane Donea, Satona Fango, Nona Finco, Phillip Hatfeyggow, Towla
Bailzow, Grasta Neyn, Geleyr Bailzow, Bernard Beige, Demer Mats-
kalla, Notfaw Lawlowr, Martine Femine, rebellis and conspiris aganis
the said Johnnie Faw, and lies removit thame alluterly out of his cumpany,
and takin fra him diurse sovmes of money, jowellis, claithis, and vthris
gudis, to the quantite of ane grete sovme of money, and on na wyse will
pass hame with him, howbeit he has biddin and remainit of lang tyme
vpoun them, and is bunding and oblist to bring hame with him all them of
his company that ar on live, and ane testimoniale of thame that ar deid :
And als, the said Johnne has the said Sebastianis Obligatioune, maid in
Dunfermling, befor our Maister houssald that he and his cumpany suld
remain with him and on na wise depart fra him, as the samin beiris. In
contrar the tenour of the quilk, the said Sebastiane, be sinister and wrang
informatioune, fals relation, and circumventioun of ws, hes purchest our
writingis, dischargeing him and the remnant of the personis aboue writtin
his complicis and pairt-takaris of the said Johnnis cumpany, and with his
gudis takin be thame fra him, caussis certane our liegis assist to thame
and their opinionis, and to fortify and tak their pairt aganis the said
Johnnie, their lord and maister ; sua that he on no wyse, can apprehend
nor get thame to haue thame hame agane within their ain cuntre, eftir the
tenor of his said Band, to his hevy dampnage and skaithe, and in grete
per ell of tynsall of his heretage, and express aganis justice. Our will is
heirfor, and we charge zow straitlie, and commandis, that incontynent thir
our Letteres sene, ze and ilk ane of zow, within the boundis of zour
Offices, command and charge all our liegis that nane of them tak vpoune
hand to resset, assist, fortify, supple, manteine, defend or take pairt with
the said Sebastiane and his complices aboue written, for na buddis nor \
vther way, aganis the said Johne Faw their lord and maister ; bot that
they and ze, inlikwise tak and lay handis vpoune them quhareuir they
may be apprehendit, and bring them to him to be pvnist for thair
demeritis, conforme to his lawis : And help and fortify him to pvnis and
do justice vpoune them for thair trespassis : And to that effect, len to
him zoure personis, stockis, fetteris, and all vther things necessar thairto,
as ze and ilk ane of zow, and all vtheris oure liegis, will ansuer to ws
thairupoune, and voder all hieast pane and charge that eftir may follow ;
swa that the said Johnne have na caus of complaynt heirupoune in tyme
cuming, nor to resort agane to ws to that effect, no cht withstanding ony
oure writings sinisterly purchest, or to be purchest, be the said Sebastiane,
in the contrar. And als, charge all oure liegis that nane of thaim molest,
vex, inquiet, or trouble the said Johnne Faw and his cumpany, in doing
of thair lefull besynes, or vtherwayis, within oure realme, and in thair
passing, remanyng, or away-ganging furth of the samyne, vnder the pane

STREPHON AND LTDIA.

aboue writtin : And siclike, that ze command and charge all skippars,
maisteris, and marinaris of all schippis within oure realme, at all Portis
and Havynnis quhair the said Johnne and his cumpany salhappin to resort
and cum, to resaue him and them thairin upoune thair expenses, for fur-
ing of thame f urth of oure realme to the partis bezond the sey : As thai
and ilk ane of thame siclike will answer to ws thairupoune, and undir the
pane forsaid. Subscriuit with oure hand, and under oure Priue Seile,
at Falkland, the nveteine day of Februar, and of oure reigne the xxviij
zeir. Subscript. per Regem. [JAMES R.]

Taking the ballad in connection with the era of the " Erie of Little Egypt "
— for, though he may have been no actor in the seduction of the Lady of
Cassillis, it may be assumed that the author of the verses, in assigning him
the leadership of the enterprise, committed no anachronism — we would
be inclined to date back the circumstance at least a century before the
timed fixed by the author of the " Picture of Scotland."

Chambers is locally wrong in stating that the Gypsies' Steps over the
Doon are "a few miles from the Castle." They are not half-a-mile.
Besides, tradition does not say that they were taken there. He forgets
to mention that there are two portraits of the ill-fated Countess preserved
at Cassillis — one before marriage, and the other after her imprisonment.
The latter represents her in tears. There are also some relics said to
have belonged to her.

<£ttepf)0tt antr Ugtota-

All lovely on the sultry beach

Expiring Strephon lay ;
No hand the cordial draught to reach,

Nor cheer the gloomy way.
Ill-fated youth ! no parent nigh

To catch thy fleeting breath ;
No bride to fix thy swimming eye,

Or smooth the face of death.

STREPHON AND LYDIA.

Far distant from the mournful scene

Thy parents sit at ease ;
Thy Lydia rifles all the plain,

And all the spring, to please.
Ill-fated youth ! by fault of friend,

Not force of foe depressed ;
Thou fall'st, alas ! thyself, thy kind,

Thy country, unredressed.

These affecting lines — printed for the first time in Johnson's " Musical
Museum" — were, as stated in Burns's MS. notes to that work, the u com-
position of William Wallace, Esq. of Cairnhill,"* This gentleman, ac-
cording to Robertson's " Ayrshire Families," was the eldest son of Tho-
mas Wallace, a direct descendant of the Wallaces of Ellerslie, who ac-
quired the property of Cairnhill about the beginning of last century from
another branch of the Craigie family, in whose possession it had continued
for upwards of two hundred years. William, who died in 1763, in the
52d year of his age, was a member of the Faculty of Advocates, having
been admitted in 1734. He succeeded to the property on the death of
his father in 1748 ; and married a daughter of Archibald Campbell of
Succoth, in 1750. By this marriage he had three sons — all of whom
died without issue — and a daughter, Lilias, who inherited the estate, and
died at an advanced age, on the 9th of April, 1840. The father of Robert
Wallace, Esq., the late proprietor of Kelly, was a younger brother of
William. We are not aware that the author of " Strephon and Lydia"
is known as the writer of any other lyric. Judging from the single speci-
men afforded, he seems to have possessed no ordinary talent for poetical
composition. The couplet —

" Thy Lydia rifles all the plain,
And all the spring, to please" —

is finely conceived, and was at the time highly characteristic of the lady
referred to. As Dr Blacklock informed Burns, the real Lydia, — one of

* Cairnhill is situated on a delightful bend of the Cessnock, about four miles
from Kilmarnock.

STREPHON AND LYDIA.

the loveliest women of her day — was the "gentle Jean" celebrated in the
following " Parody, by Mr W******,"* in Hamilton of Bangour's poems: —

" Two toasts at every public place are seen —
God-like Elizabeth, and gentle Jean :
Mild Jeany smiles at ev'ry word you say,
Seems pleas'd herself, and sends you pleas'd away.
Her face so wondrous fair, so soft her hands,
We're tempted oft to think — she understands
Each fop with joy the kind endeavour sees,
And thinks for him the anxious care to please :
But the sly nymph has motives of her own,
Her lips are opened, and — her teeth are shown.
Bess blunders out with ev'ry thing aloud,
And rattles unwithheld and unwithstood ;
In vain the sighing swain implores a truce,
Nor can his wit one moment's pause produce :
She bounds o'er all, and, conscious of her force,
Still pours along the torrent of discourse.
Sometimes, 'tis true, just as her breath she draws,
With watchful eye we catch one moment's pause,
But when that instantaneous moment's o'er,
She rattles on incessant as before.
To which of these two wonders of the town,
Say, shall I trust, to spend an afternoon ?
If Betty's drawing-room should be my choice,
Intoxicate with wit, struck down with noise,
Pleas'd and displeas'd, I quit the Bedlam scene,
And joyful hail my peace of mind again ;
But if to gentle Jeany 's I repair,
Regal 'd on syllabub, and fed on air,
With study'd rapture yawning I commend,
Mov'd by no cause, directed to no end,
Till half asleep, tho' flatter 'd, not content,
I come away as joyless as I went."

The lover of this gentle fair one — the Strephon of the song — a youth of
handsome proportions, and attractive appearance, was usually distinguish-

* The Mr W. here meant was in all likelihood Mr Wallace of Cairnhill, the author
of " Strephon and Lydia." Additional evidence is thus afforded of his cultivated
taste and poetical genius. The edition of Hamilton's poems, from which the parody
is extracted, was published in 1760, six years after the death of the author, who died
in 1754, in the 50th year of his age. It is not improbable that Hamilton and Wal-
lace were intimate friends.

LADY MARY ANN.

ed by the soubriquet of " Beau Gibson." Having frequently met in pub-
lic, the parties formed an ardent and mutual attachment. Their habits
and tastes, however, were too highly pitched for their narrow incomes ;
and the friends of Gibson, by way of breaking off the connection, pur-
chased a commission for him in the armament, fitted out in 1740, under
the command of Lord Cathcart, against the Spanish settlements in South
America. Owing to the sudden death of that gallant and experienced
General, at the Island of Dominica, the command devolved on General
Wentworth, "an officer without experience, authority, or resolution."
The consequence was, that in the expedition undertaken by Admiral Ver-
non against Carthagena, the British sustained a signal defeat. The Ad-
miral and the General had conceived a mutual hatred and contempt of
each other — and the want of mutual co-operation rendered all their plans
abortive. In the attack on Carthagena everything miscarried. The
guides were killed in advancing; the troops in consequence proceeded
against the strongest part of the fortification ; the scaling-ladders were
too short ; Colonel Grant of the grenadiers was killed ; and unsupported
by the fleet — Admiral Vernon alleging that his ships could not approach
near enough to batter the town — the small body of British forces was
compelled to retire, leaving behind upwards of six hundred killed or
wounded. Amongst these was the unfortunate * Beau Gibson." Hence
the concluding lines of the ballad —

" Thou fall'st, alas ! thyself, thy kind,
Thy country, unredressed."

Eafcg Jftatg &nn.

O Lady Mary Ann looks o'er the castle wa',
She saw three bonnie boys playing at the ba',
The youngest he was the flower among them a' ;
My bonnie laddie's young, but he's growin' yet.

LADY MART ANN

O father, O father, an ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year to the college yet ;
We'll sew a green ribbon round about his hat ;
And that will let them ken he's to marry yet.

Lady Mary Ann was a flower in the dew,
Sweet was its smell, and bonnie was its hue,
And the langer it blossomed, the sweeter it grew ;
For the lily in the bud will be bonnier yet.

Young Charlie Cochran was the sprout o' an aik,
Bonnie and blooming and straight was its make,
The sun took delight to shine for its sake ;
And it will be the brag o' the forest yet.

The summer is gane when the leaves they were green,
And the days are awa' that you and I hae seen,
But far better days I trust will come again ;

For my bonnie laddie's young but he's growin' yet.

The Editor of " Scottish Historical and Romantic Ballads," says—" I
have extracted these beautiful stanzas from Johnson's s Poetical Museum.'
They are worthy of being better known — a circumstance which may lead
to a discovery of the persons whom they celebrate." Motherwell, who
also regarded the stanzas as " certainly beautiful," copied them into his
"Minstrelsy; Ancient and Modern." He thought it probable that they
referred to " some of the Dundonald family" — one lady of that noble house
having been commemorated in a local ditty to the same air : —

" My Lady Dundonald sits singing and spinning,
Drawing a thread frae her tow rock ;
And it weel sets me for to wear a gude cloak,
And I span ilka thread o't my sel', so I did," &c.

The lady of John, fourth Earl of Dundonald — second daughter of Charles,
first Earl of Dunmore — died at Paisley, in 1710. She was celebrated
for her beauty, as well as for every virtue which could adorn the female
character ; and her death was universally lamented. She belonged to the
Episcopalian Church — notwithstanding which, even Wodrow, while he

OLD KING COUL.

seems to regard her demise — occasioned by small-pox — as a special visita-
tion of Providence, admits the solidity of her reputation. She was " highly
praelaticall in her principles," he says, " but very devote and charitable."
She had three daughters, " celebrated for superior beauty by the elegant
Hamilton of Bang our" — one of whom, Lady Anne, may have been the
heroine of the song. She was married to the fifth Duke of Hamilton,
and died in 1724. Contemporaneously with this lady there was a Charles
Cochrane, connected with the Cochranes of Waterside, and of course re-
lated to the Dundonald family. At his death he left £5 to the parish of
Auchinleck, payable in 1732. Could he be the "sprout of an aik" al-
luded to in the song ?

Old King Coul was a jolly old soul,

And a jolly old soul was he :
Old King Coul he had a brown bowl,

And they brought him in fiddlers three ;
And every fiddler was a very good fiddler,

And a very good fiddler was he.
Fidel-didel, fidel-didel, went the fiddlers three :

And there's no a lass in braid Scotland
Compared to our sweet Marjory.

Old King Coul, &c. j^* See the foregoing verse.

And they brought him in pipers three ;
And every piper, &c.

Ha-didel, ho-didel, ha-didel, ho-didel, went the pipers ;
Fidel-didel, fidel-didel, went the fiddlers three :

And there's no a lass, &c.

•21

Old King Coul, &c.

And they brought him in harpers three :
Twingle-twangle, twingle-twangle, went the harpers ;
Ha-didel, ho-didel, ha-didel, ho-didel, went the pipers ;
Fidel-didel, fidel-didel, went the fiddlers three :

And there's no a lass, &c.

Old King Coul, fee.

And they brought him trumpeters three :
Twara-rang, twara-rang, went the trumpeters ;
Twingle-twangle, twingle-twangle, went the harpers ;
Ha-didel, ho-didel, ha-didel, ho-didel, went the pipers ;
Fidel-didel, fidel-didel, went the fiddlers three :

And there's no a lass, &c.

Old King Coul, fee.

And they brought him in drummers three :
Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, went the drummers ;
Twara-rang, twara-rang, went the trumpeters ;
Twingle-twangle, twingle-twangle, went the harpers ;
Ha-didel, ho-didel, ha-didel, ho-didel, went the pipers ;
Fidel-didel, fidel-didel, went the fiddlers three :

And there's no a lass, &c.

That this ditty is old can scarcely be doubted. It appeared first in Herd's
Collection, published in 1776 ; but it has long been orally familiar over
the country. From the lines —

" And there's no a lass in braid Scotland
Compared to our sweet Marjory,"

we should suppose the composition as ancient as the days of Robert the

Bruce, whose only daughter, Marjory, married Walter the Steward of

Scotland. We have appropriated the verses in the belief that the " old

King Coul" whom they celebrate was no other than the Coul or Coil of

history, whose fate in battle has given the name of Coil or Kyle to one of

the three great divisions of Ayrshire. Historians differ as to the id en- j

tity of "King Coul" — whether he was Sovereign of the Strathclyde j

Britons, or a Welch invader. It is equally uncertain whether it was the ^

OLD KING COUL.

Scots or Picts, or both, by whom he was defeated ; but that a battle was
fought, and a person of distinction buried, at the spot mentioned by our
ancient writers — which still bears the name of Coilsfield — is placed beyond
all question by the recent opening of the tumulus. The following account
of this interesting operation was communicated to the local journals at
the time by one of the antiquarian gentlemen who took part in it : —

"discovery of sepulchral, urns in the grave of kino coil.

u To the south of Coilsfield House, in Ayrshire, and immediately west
of the farm offices, is a circular mound, enclosed by a large hedge and
planted with oak and other trees. On the centre and highest part of this
mound, are two large stones, masses of basalt — which, according to tra-
dition, mark the spot where the mortal remains of Old King Coil were
deposited. The names borne by places in the vicinity are in keeping
with this tradition. The beautiful mansion adjoining, one of the seats of
the Earl of Eglinton, is named Coilsfield, i.e., the field of Coil. Kyle,
the name of the central district of Ayrshire, is supposed to be the same
word Coil spelled in accordance with the vulgar pronunciation of the
name. A little brook that empties itself into the Fail is called ' The
Bloody-burn,' and so testifies by its name, of the blood by which its
waters had, on some memorable occasion, been polluted ; and a flat al-
luvial piece of ground along the Fail, opposite the mouth of the bloody
burn, is still called 'The Dead-men 's-holm,' probably from its having
been the burial place of the warriors. It is true that a high authority —
Chalmers, author of the Caledonia, denies that there ever was such a
person as King Coil. Although it is well known that that author at times
allows himself to be carried away by an undue love of theory, still his
scepticism has had the effect of degrading into mere fable, in the estima-
tion of many, traditionary history, in regard to the West of Scotland.

" Regard, therefore, for traditionary evidence, respect for the mighty
dead, and love of historical truth combined to render it desirable that
Coil's grave should be opened.

" Accordingly, on the evening of the 29th May, 1837, in presence of
several gentlemen, the two large stones were removed. The centre of
the mound was found to be occupied by boulder stones, some of them of
considerable size. When the excavators had reached the depth of about
four feet, they came on a flag stone of a circular form of about three feet in
diameter. The light had now failed, and rain began to fall in torrents —
but the interest excited was too intense to admit of any delay ; candles
were procured, all earth and rubbish cleared away, and the circular stone
carefully lifted up.

• The seclusion of the spot, the beauty of the surrounding lawn and
trees, the eager countenances of the spectators, and above all, the light

OLD KING COUL.

and voices rising from the grave in which there had been darkness and
silence for upwards of two thousand years, rendered the scene which at
this time presented itself at Coil's tomb, a very remarkable one.

" Under the circular stone was first a quantity of dry yellow coloured
sandy clay — then a small flag stone laid horizontally, covering the mouth
of an urn filled with Avhite-coloured burnt bones. In removing the dry
clay by which this urn was surrounded, it was discovered that a second
urn less indurated in its texture, so frail as to fall to pieces when touched,
had been placed close to the principal urn.

" Next day the examination of the mound was resumed, and two more
urns filled with bones were found. Of these urns, one crumbled into dust
so soon as the air was admitted ; the other was raised in a fractured state.
Under flat stones, several small heaps of bones were observed, not con-
tained in urns, but carefully surrounded by the yellow coloured clay
mentioned above.

" The urns in shape resemble flower-pots — they are composed of clay,
and have been hardened by fire. The principal urn is 7| inches in height,
7| inches in diameter, |ths of an inch in thickness. It has none of those
markings, supposed to have been made by the thumb nail, so often to
be observed on sepulchral urns, and it has nothing of ornament except
an edging or projecting part about half an inch from the top.

" No coins, or armour, or implements of any description, could be found.

" The discovery of these urns renders evident that, at a very remote
period, and while the practice of burning the dead still prevailed — that
is to say, before the introduction of Christianity — some person or persons
of distinction had been deposited there.

" The very fact of sepulchral urns having been found in the very spot
where, according to an uninterrupted tradition, and the statements of
several historians, King Coil had been laid, appears to give to the tradi-
tionary evidence, and to the statements of the early Scottish historians,
in regard to Coil, a degree of probability higher than they formerly pos-
sessed.

"According to Bellenden, in his translation of Hector Boece, ' Kyle is
namit frae Coyll, Kyng of the Britons, quhilk was slain in the same
region.' Buchannan states that ' the Scots and Picts surprised the camp
, of the Britons in the night, and put almost the whole of them to the
\( sword, Coilus, King of the Britons, was among the slain in this engage-
\ ment, and the district in which the battle was fought, was afterwards dis-
| tinguished by his name.'

" The death of Coil is supposed to have happened about 300 years be-
fore Christ."

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

Part the First.

Lithe and listen, gentlemen,
To sing a song I will beginne :

It is of a lord of faire Scotland,

Which was the unthrifty heire of Linne.

His father was a right good lord,
His mother a lady of high degree ;

But they, alas I were dead, him froe,
And he loved keeping companie.

To spend the daye with merry cheare,
To drinke and revell every night,

To card and dice from eve to morne,
It was, I ween, his heart's delighte.

To ride, to runne, to rant, to roare,
To always spend and never spare,

I wott, an' it were the king himselfe,
Of gold and fee he mote be bare.

Soe fares the unthrifty lord of Linne,
Till all his gold is gone and spent ;

And he maun sell his landes so broad,
His house, and landes, and all his rent.

His father had a keen stewarde,

And John o' the Scales was called hee :

But John has become a gentel-man,
And John has gott both gold and fee.

Sayes, " Welcome, welcome, lord of Linne,
Let nought disturb thy merry cheere ;

Iff thou wilt sell thy lands soe broad,
Good store of gold He give thee heere."

« My gold is gone, my money is spent ;

My lande nowe take it unto thee :
Give me the golde, good John o' the Scales,

And thine for aye my lande shall be."

Then John he did him to record draw,
And John he cast him a god's-pennie ;

But for every pounde that John agreed,
The land, I wis, was well worth three.

He told him the gold upon the borde,
He was right glad his land to winne ;

" The gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now He be the lord of Linne."

Thus he hath sold his land soe broad,
Both hill and holt, and moore and fenne,

All but a poor and lonesome lodge,
That stood far off in a lonely glenne.

For soe he to his father hight :

" My sonne, when I am gonne," sayd hee,
" Then thou wilt spend thy lande so broad,

And thou wilt spend thy gold so free :

u But sweare me nowe upon the roode,
That lonesome lodge thou'lt never spend ;

For when all the world doth frown on thee,
Thou there shalt find a faithful friend."

The heir of Linne is full of golde :

And " come with me, my friends," sayd hee,
" Let's drinke, and rant, and merry make,

And he that spares, ne'er mote he thee."

THE HEIR OF LEXNE.

They ranted, drank, and merry made,
Till all his gold it waxed thinne ;

And then his friendes they slunk away :
They left the unthrifty heir of Linne.

He had never a penny left in his purse,

Never a penny left but three ;
And one was brass, another was lead,

And another it was white monie.

" Nowe well-a-day," sayd the heir of Linne,
" Nowe well-a-day, and woe is mee,

For when I was the lord of Linne,
I never wanted gold nor fee.

" But many a trustye friend have I,
And why shold I feel dole or care ?

He borrow of .them all by turnes,
Soe need I not be never bare."

But one, I wis, was not at home ;

Another had paid his gold away;
Another call'd him thriftless loone,

And bade him sharpley wend his way.

" Now well-a-day ," sayed the heir of Linne,
" Now well-a-day, and woe is me ;

For when I had my landes so broad,
On me they lived right merrilie.

" To beg my bread from door to door,
I wis, it were a brenning shame :

To rob and steal it were a sinne :
To work my limbs I cannot frame.

"Now He be away to my lonesome lodge,
For there my father bade me wend ;

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

When all the world should frown on mee
I there shold find a trusty friend."

Pabt the Second.

Away then hyed the heir of Linne

O'er hill and holt, and moor and fenne,

Until he came to lonesome lodge,

That stood so lowe in a lonely glenne.

He looked up, he looked downe,

In hopes some comfort for to winne :
But bare and lothly were the walles.

" Here's sorry cheare," quoth the heir of Linne.

The little windowe dim and darke
Was hung with ivy, brere, and yewe ;

No shimmering sunn here ever shone :
No halesome breeze here ever blew.

No chair, ne table he mote spye,
No cheerful hearth, ne welcome bed,

Nought save a rope with renning noose,
That dangling hung up o'er his head.

And over it in broad letters,

These words were written so plain to see :
" Ah ! graceless wretch, hast spent thine all,

And brought thyselfe to penurie?

" All this my boding mind misgave,

I therefore left this trusty friend :
Let it now sheeld thy foule disgrace,

And all thy shame and sorrows end."

Sorely shent wi' this rebuke,

Sorely shent was the heir of Linne ;

THE HEIR OF LENTs'E.

His heart, I wis, was near to barst
With guilt and sorrowe, shame and sinne.

Never a word spake the heir of Linne,
Never a word he spake but three :

" This is a trusty friend indeed,
And is right welcome unto mee."

Then round his necke the corde he drewe,
And sprang aloft with his bodie :

When lo ! the ceiling burst in twaine,
And to the ground came tumbling hee.

Astonyed lay the heir of Linne,
Ne knewe if he were live or dead :

At length he looked, and saw a bille,
And in it a key of golde so redd.

He took the bill, and look it on,

Straight good comfort found he there :

Itt told him of a hole in the wall,

In which there stood three chests in-fere.

Two were full of the beaten golde,
The third was full of white money ;

And over them in broad letters

These words were written so plaine to see

* Once more, my sonne, I sette thee clere ;

Amend thy life and follies past ;
For but thou amend thee of thy life,

That rope must be thy end at last."

" And let it be," sayd the heir of Linne ;

" And let it be, but if I amend :
For here I will make mine avow,

This reade shall guide me to the end."

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

Away then went with a merry cheare,
Away then went the heir of Linne ;

I wis, he neither ceas'd ne blanne,

Till John o' the Scales house he did winne.

And when he came to John o* the Scales,

Up at the speere then looked hee ;
There sat three lords upon a rowe,

Were drinking of the wine so free.

And John himself sate at the board-head,
Because now lord of Linne was hee.

" I pray thee," he said, " good John o' the Scales,
One forty pence for to lend mee."

" Away, away, thou thriftless loone ;

Away, away, this may not bee ;
For Christ's curse on my head," he sayd,

" If ever I trust thee one pennie."

Then bespake the heir of Linne,

To John o' the Scales wife then spake he :
" Madame, some almes on me bestowe,

I pray for sweet saint Charitie."

" Away, away, thou thriftless loone,
I swear thou gettest no almes of mee ;

For if we shold hang any losel heere,
The first we wold begin with thee."

Then bespake a good fellowe,

Which sat at John o' the Scales his bord ;
Sayd " Turn againe, thou heir of Linne ;

Some time thou wast a well good lord :

" Some time a good fellow thou hast been,
And sparedest not thy gold and fee ;

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

Therefore He lend thee forty pence,
And other forty if need bee.

" And ever, I pray thee, John o' the Scales,

To let him sit in thy companie :
For well I wot thou had his land,

And a good bargain it was to thee."

Up then spake him John o' the Scales,
All wood be answer'd him againe :

" Now Christ's curse on my head," he sayd,
" But I did lose by that bargaine.

" And here I proffer thee, heir of Linne,
Before these lords so faire and free,

Thou shalt have it backe again better cheape,
By a hundred markes, than I had it of thee.

" I drawe you to record, lords," he said,
With that he cast him a God's-pennie :

" Now by my fay," said the heir of Linne,
" And here good John is thy monie."

And he pull'd forth three bagges of gold,
And layd them down upon the bord :

All woe begone was John o' the Scales,
Soe shent he cold say never a word.

He told him forth the good red gold,
He told it forth with mickle dinne.

" The gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now Ime againe the lord of Linne."

Sayes, " Have thou here, thou good fellowe,
Forty pence thou didst lend mee :

Now I am againe the lord of Linne,
And forty pounds I will give thee.

THE HEIR OF LINNE.

" lie make thee keeper of my forest,

Both of the wild dere and the tame ;
For but I reward thy bounteous heart,

I wis, good fellowe, I were to blame."

" Now well-a-day !" sayth Joan o' the Scales :
'•'Now well-a-day! and woe is my life!

Yesterday I was lady of Linne,
Now Ime but John o' the Scales his wife."

" Now fare-thee-well," said the heir of Linne ;

" Farewell now, John o' the Scales," said hee :
" Christ's curse light on me, if ever again

I bring my lands in jeopardy."

This ballad was first brought to light by Bishop Percy in 1755. In his
" Eeliques" he says — " The original of this ballad is found in the Editor's
folio MS., the breaches and defects in which render the insertion of sup-
plemental stanzas necessary. These it is hoped the reader will pardon, as
indeed the completion of the story was suggested by a modern ballad on :
a similar subject. From the Scottish phrases here and there discernible
in this poem, it should seem to have been originally composed beyond the
Tweed. The heir of Linne appears not to have been a lord of Parlia-
ment, but a laird, whose title went along with his estate." Motherwell
says — " The traditionary version extant in Scotland begins thus : —

" The bonnie heir, the weel-faured heir,

And the wearie heir o' Linne ;
Yonder he stands at his father's gate,

And naebody bids him come in.

O, see where he gangs, and see where he stands,

The weary heir o' Linne ;
O, see where he stands on the cauld causey,

Some ane wuld ta'en him in.

But if he had been his father's heir,

Or yet the heir o' Linne,
He wadna stand on the cauld causey,

Some ane wuld ta'en him in."

Linn, in Dairy parish, is supposed to be the scene of this fine ballad. The \
tower, of which some traces still remain, overlooked a beautiful cascade
or linn, on the water of Caaf, near the village of Dairy. The family of
Linne of that Ilk — now extinct — was of old standing. Walter de Lynne
is mentioned in the Ragman Roll, 1296. No regular genealogical ac-
count of the family can be made out ; but they are traced, in various
documents, as the proprietors of Linn down till nearly the middle of the
seventeenth century. The last of the lairds of Linne, apparently, was
" Johne Lin of yt Ilk," mentioned in the testament of " Jonet Jack, spous
to John Crawfuird in Robshilheid, Dairy" — December, 1636.* Soon
after this the property seems to have been acquired by the Kilmarnock
family. Lord Kilmarnock was retoured heir to a portion of the lands in
1641. Although it is only conjectural that Linn in Dairy is the Linn of
the ballad, the circumstance of the family being of that Ilk accords with
what Bishop Percy remarks, that " the heir of Linne appears not to have
been a lord of Parliament, but a laird, whose title went along with the
estate." Linne was the chief of all who bore the name — the title of that
Ilk being applicable only to such as are acknowledged to be the head of
their race. The next possessor would havebeen called the Laird of Linn,
but not Linn of that Ilk.

$ fjatr a 3^otse an* $ Jjatr nae Jftatr.

I had a horse, and I had nae mair,

I gat him frae my daddy ;
My purse was light, and my heart was sair,

But my wit it was fu' ready.
And sae I thought me on a time,

Outwittens of my daddie,
To fee mysel' to a Highland laird,

Wha had a bonnie lady.

* Commissary Records of Glasgow.

I HAD A HORSE AND I HAD NAE MAIR.

I wrote a letter, and thus began,

Madame, be not offended,
I'm o'er the lugs in love wi' you,

And care not tho' ye kend it :
For I get little frae the laird,

And far less frae my daddy,
And I would blythely be the man

Would strive to please my lady.

She read my letter, and she leugh ;

Ye needna been sae blate, man,
Ye might ha'e come to me yoursel',

And tauld me o' your state, man ;
You might ha'e come to me yoursel'

Outwitten o' ony body,
And made John Gowkston o' the laird,

And kiss'd his bonnie lady.

Then she put siller in my purse,

"We drank wine in a cogie ;
She fee'd a man to rub my horse,

And wow but I was vogie.
But I gat ne'er sae sair a fleg,

Since I cam' frae my daddy,
The laird cam', rap, rap, to the yett,

When I was wi' his lady.

Then she pat me below a chair,

And happ'd me wi' a plaidie ;
But I was like to swarf wi' fear,

And wish'd me wi' my daddy.
The laird gaed out, he saw na me,

I gaed when I was ready ;
I promised, but I ne'er ga'ed back,

To kiss his bonnie lady.

This is one of the very best specimens of the comic muse of Scotland.

MAY COLVIN.

Burns says the " story is founded on fact. A John Hunter, ancestor to a
very respectable farming family, who live in a place in the parish, I think,
of Galston, called Barr Mill, was the luckless hero that ' had a horse and
had nae mair.' For some little youthful follies he found it necessary to
make a retreat to the West Highlands, where * he fee'd himself to a High-
land laird ;' for that is the expression of all the oral editions of the song
I ever heard. The present Mr Hunter, who told me the anecdote, is the
great-grandchild of our hero." The song was first printed in Herd's
Collection. The ballad bears internal evidence of being as old as the days
of Mr Hunter's great-grandfather. The laird coming " rap, rap, to the
yett" refers to a period when the houses or towers of the lairds were
strongly enclosed with a well-barricaded gate, or, Scottice, yett.

jfftag Gtolbin.

False Sir John a wooing came,

To a maid of beauty fair :
May Colvin was the lady's name,

Her father's only heir.

He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben,

And he's courted her into the ha',
Till once he got his lady's consent

To mount and ride awa\

She's gane to her father's coffers,

Where all his money lay ;
And she's taken the red, and she's left the white,

And so lightly as she tripped away.

She's gane down to her father's stable

Where all his steeds did stand ;
And she's taken the best artd she's left the warst,

That was in her father's land.

He rode on, and she rode on,

They rode a lang simmer's day,
Until they came to a broad river,

An arm of a lonesome sea.

" Loup off the steed," says false Sir John ;

" Your bridal bed you see ;
For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here,

And the eighth I'll out make with thee.

" Cast aff, cast aff your silks so fine,

And lay them on a stone,
For they are o'er good and o'er costly

To rot in the salt sea foam.

" Cast aff, cast aff your holland smock, •

And lay it on this stone,
For it is too fine and o'er costly

To rot in the salt sea foam."

" O turn you about, thou false Sir John,
And look to the leaf o' the tree ;

For it never became a gentleman
A naked woman to see."

He's turned himself straight round about,
To look to the leaf o' the tree ;

She's twined her arms about his waist,
And thrown him into the sea.

" O hold a grip of me, May Colvin,
For fear that I should drown ;

I'll take you hame to your father's gate,
And safely I'll set jou down."

" O lie you there, thou false Sir John,
O lie you there," said she,

OFTHZ

or /

MAY COLVIN.

" For you lie not in a caulder bed,
Than the ane you intended for me,"

So she went on her father's steed,

As swift as she could flee ;
And she came hame to her father's gates

At the breaking of the day.

Up then spake the pretty parrot :
" May Colvin, where have you been ?

What has become of false Sir John,
That wooed you so late yestreen ?"

Up then spake the pretty parrot,

In the pretty cage where it lay :
" O what ha'e ye done with the false Sir John,

That he behind you does stay ?

u He wooed you but, he wooed you ben,

He wooed you into the ha',
Until he got your own consent

For to mount and gang awa\"

" O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot,

Lay not the blame upon me ;
Your cage will be made of the beaten gold,

And the spakes of ivorie."

Up then spake the king himself,

In the chamber where he lay :
" Oh ! what ails the pretty parrot,

That prattles so long ere day."

" It was a cat cam' to my cage door ;

I thought 'twould have worried me ;
And I was calling on fair May Colvin

To take the cat from me."

MAY COLVIN.

This version of "May Colvin" is copied from Motherwell's Collection.
Motherwell states that he had seen a " printed stall copy as early as 1749,
entitled, ■ The Western Tragedy,' " which perfectly agreed with the en-
larged version given from recitation in Sharpe's Ballad Booh. He had
also " seen a later stall print, called the i Historical Ballad of May Cule-
zean,' to which is prefixed some local tradition, that the lady there cele-
brated was of the family of Kennedy, and that her treacherous and mur-
der-hunting lover was an Ecclesiastick of the Monastery of Maybole."
In Carrick, where the ballad is popular, the general tradition is that the
" Fause Sir John" was the laird of Carleton, and " May Colzean" a
daughter of Kennedy of Culzean. Chambers has thus embodied the tra-
dition:— "The ballad finds locality in that wild portion of the coast of
Carrick which intervenes betwixt Girvan and Ballantrae. Carleton
Castle, about two miles to the south of Girvan, (a tall old ruin, situated
on the brink of a bank which overhangs the sea, and which gives title to
Sir John Cathcart, Bart, of Carleton) is affirmed by the country people,
who still remember the story [tradition rather] with great freshness, to
have been the residence of l the Fause Sir John ;' while a little rocky emi-
nence, called Gamsloup, overhanging the sea about two miles farther
south, and over which the road passes in a style terrible to all travellers, \
is pointed out as the place where he was in the habit of drowning his
wives, and where he was finally drowned himself. The people, who look i
upon the ballad as a regular and proper record of an unquestionable fact, {
farther affirm that May Collean was a daughter of the family of Kennedy \
of Culzean, now represented by the Earl of Cassillis, and that she became j
heir to all the immense wealth which her husband had acquired by his for-
mer mal-practices, and accordingly lived happily all the rest of her days."
The version we have given is the one common in Carrick. The air is par- I
ticularly plaintive, and when sung in the simple style of the peasantry, is
very interesting. A ballad, under the same title, and precisely similar in
incident, is printed by Buchan in his Collection, who points out Binyan's
Bay, at the mouth of the Ugie, where Peterhead now stands, as the scene
of " the Fause Sir John's" fate. The old minstrels were so much in the
habit of altering the names of persons and places, to suit the districts in
which they sojourned for the time, that it is, in many instances, difficult

THE LASS OF PATIE S MILL.

say to what part of the country a ballad belongs. In this case, how-
ever, as Buchan's ballad is evidently an extended version of the western
one, we would be inclined to assign the paternity to AjTshire.

Eje iLass of latter Mill

The Lass of Patie's Mill,

So bonnie, blythe, and gay,
In spite of all my skill,

She stole my heart away.
When tedding of the hay,

Bare-headed on the green,
Love 'midst her locks did play,

And wanton'd in her een.

Her arms, white, round, and smooth,

Breasts rising in their down,
To age it would give youth,

To press 'em with his hand ;
Thro' all my spirits ran

An extacy of bliss,
When I such sweetness found

Wrapt in a balmy kiss.

Without the help of art,

Like flowers which grace the wild,
She did her sweets impart,

Whene'er she spoke or smil'd.
Her looks they were so mild,

Free from affected pride,
She me to love beguil'd ;

I wish'd her for my bride.

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

O, had I all that wealth,

Hopeton's high mountains* fill,
Insured long life and health,

And pleasure at my will;
I'd promise and fulfil,

That none but bonnie she,
The Lass of Patie's Mill,

Should share the same wi' me.

In reference to this song Burns says — " The following anecdote I had from
the present Sir William Cunningham of Robertland, who had it from the
last John, Earl of Loudoun. The then Earl of Loudoun, and father to
Earl John before-mentioned, had Ramsay at Loudoun, and one day walk-
ing together by the banks of Irvine water, near Newmiils, at a place
called Patie's Mill, they were struck with the appearance of a beautiful
country girl. His Lordship observed that she would be a fine theme for
a song. Allan lagged behind in returning to Loudoun Castle, and at din-
ner produced this identical song." As the air is older than Ramsay's day,
it has been conjectured that there was another song entitled " The Lass
of Patie's Mill ;" and it has even been said that the daughter of John An-
derson of Patie's Mill, in the parish of Keith-hall, was the original beauty
celebrated. It is possible that this may be the case, though it is rather
curious that none of the alleged old version has been shown to exist. The
truth of the anecdote related by Burns, however, cannot well be doubted.

Cfje Battle oi lentlantr Jgtll^

The gallant Grahams cam' from the west,

Wi' their horses black as ony craw ;
The Lothian lads they marched fast,

To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa.

* Thirty-three miles south-west of Edinburgh, where the Earl of Hopeton's mines
of gold and lead are. — Cromek.

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND IIILLS.

Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle,
The lads they marched mony a mile ;
Souters and J:aylors^ unto them drew,
Their covenants for to renew.

The whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks,
Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs ;
But aye sinsyne they do repent
The renewing o' their covenant.

At the Mauchline Muir, where they were reviewed,
Ten thousand men in armour showed ;
But, ere they came to the Brockie's Burn,
The half o' them did back return.

General Dalyell, as I hear tell,

Was our lieutenant-general ;

And captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill,

Was to guide them on to the Pentland Hill.

General Dalyell held to the hill,
Asking at them what was their will ;
And who gave them this protestation,
To rise in arms against the nation ?

" Although we all in armour be,
It's not against his majesty ;
Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid,
But wi' the country we'll conclude."

" Lay down your arms, in the king's name,
And ye shall a' gae safely hame ;"
But they a' cried out, wi' ae consent,
" We'll fight a broken covenant."

" O well," says he, " since it is so,
A wilfu' man never wanted woe ;"

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

He then gave a sign unto his lads,
And they drew up in their brigades.

The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,
And every man to his armour drew ;
The whigs were never so much aghast,
As to see their saddles toom so fast.

The cleverest men stood in the van,
The whigs they took their heels and ran :
But such a raking was never seen,
As the raking o' the Rullien Green.

Episcopacy was proclaimed in 1662 — the Earl of Glencairn taking an
active part in its establishment. The burghs, at the same time, were or-
dered to elect none as magistrates who were of fanatical principles, or sus-
pected of disloyalty — a command which was pretty generally obeyed.
Ayr and Irvine, however, became obnoxious from their opposition. In
1664 they were directed to choose quite different magistrates from those
who had refused to make the declaration exacted from all who held public
trust. During the spring of 1663, about two-thirds of the churches in
the west had been deprived of their ministers, under the operation of
what was called the Glasgow act.* The difficulty experienced in supply-
ing the churches, and the disturbances occasioned thereby, are matters of
history. A series of letters between Alexander Burnet, Archbishop of
Glasgow, and the Earl of Eglinton, at this period,t show the extreme \
anxiety of that ecclesiastic, amidst the opposition against which he had to
contend, in the performance of his duty. We shall (mote one or two of I
the more interesting. The following is the first which has fallen into our jj
hands : — |

" My deare Lord, I

" Since I had the honour to get you'r Lo. last, I have had a \

very bad account of your friends and vassalls at Draighorne ; and must j

* According to Wodrow, of the fifty- seven ministers in the Presbyteries of Ayr i
and Irvine, thirty were " outed" in 1663. More, however, were expelled in 1666-7, <
and in 1671.

f Found amongst the Family Papers at Auchans.

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

say (if it be as the report goes) they deserve to be made examples to
others. I like it the worse that the minister hath not yett beene with
me to giue ane account of their obedience, as he promised ; and I am cred-
ibly informed by others that the young man is under a great consterna-
tion, and much discouraged, and resolves rather to remoue than complain.
However, 1 shall not say much till I receave a more exact account of all.
Only I thought it my duety to acquaint your Lo. with what I heard be-
{ fore I tooke any other course ; and to entreate your Lo. to consider of
| what consequence it may be to have it reported that persons in whom

< your Lo. is interested, and for whom you have undertaken, should so
I transgresse and affront the laws ; and how much it will reflect upon me
'/ to winke at yor. Lo.'s friends and relations, when vthers for lesser of-
\ fences are severely proceeded against. 1 am bound for many reasons to
\ tender your Lo.'s honour more than others, which makes me u^e this
\ freedome with your Lo. ; and shall never be wanting to give you the
I most ample testimonial I can of that respect which is due to you, from

" My Lord,
" Your very humble and faith-
•* Glasgow, Aug. 11th, " full servant,

"1664. "Alex. Glascuen."

\ The Earl of Eglinton replied with spirit as follows : —

" May it please your Grace,

" I receaved yors of the 11th instant, and though it be trew (as

| yor. Lop. sayes) the report goes that my freinds and vassills in dreghorne

J are guilty of that hinous breatch of the Laws, yett I hop I haue not giuen

$ so litell ore bad proof of my forward afectionetnes to his maties. service,

£ or the church government, as that ther is ground given in the liest to

\ charge ther fault upoun me ; ffor the evidence yor. Lop. gives of that

\ people's disobedience, qch. is ye minister you sent them hes not keip his

\ promise in coming to giue yor. Lop. ane acompt, I doe not sie a worss ;

< and of this consequence, and I supose vpon search, it shall be found that

< that minister hath bein more from his people, since I had the honor to see
I yor. Lop. last, then they haue been from him ; and though yor. Lop. be
\ pleased to say I undertook for them, I am confident yor. Lop. means noe
't more but a wndertaking in my station to sie ye law put in execution
\ against such as should be found delinquents. And, my Lord, if I be
\ rightly informed, thes of dreghorn are neither amongst the chief trans-
1 gressors, nor amongst thes who haue mett with the gretest leanitie. Only,
\ I confess a few of them are my tenants ; but if by that severer dealing,
• which yor. Lop. sayes others have mett with, yor. Lop. doe mean my ten-
| nants in Egilsham and Eastwood (who wanted a minister), who were,
I upon Sunday last, kiep wthin the church doors by a party of soldiurs,
| with muskitts and fyred matches, from ten in ye morning to six of the
| clok at night, many of them baiten and all of them sore afrighted, I shall

remitt it to yor. Lop.'s consideration whither the Law or gospill does most I

warand this practiss ; and shall wish more tender usadge towards the re- !

lations off,

"My Lord, &c." j
" Montgomeriestoun,

" 17th August, 1664."

The remainder of the correspondence refers chiefly to the presentation of
incumbents, in which the Earl shows considerable judgment in selecting
suitable parties. All the efforts, however, of the dignitaries of the Church,
or the patrons, could not overcome the deep-rooted principle of presby-
terianism. Writing to his Lordship on the 29th September, 1666, the
Bishop says — " Our ministers meet with so many discouragements and
difficulties that many of them begin to despaire of remedy." At length
the persecution to which the non-complying clergy were subjected, and
the heavy fines levied from their adherents, produced open resistance.
Though the rising had its origin in Kirkcudbrightshire and Dumfries-
shire, where Sir James Turner, a soldier of fortune, was employed in levy-
ing the fines imposed on the non-conformists, yet the greater portion of
the men and money ultimately engaged in it were furnished by Ayrshire.

" At Mauchline Muir, where they were reviewed,
Ten thousand men in armour showed."

So says the ballad of Rullien Green, as given in the " Minstrelsy of the
Border." But the rhymster was no friend to the Whigs ; and he seems
to have taken a poet's license as to facts. The insurgent force never
amounted to more than three thousand men, in place of ten thousand ;
and the host of the Covenanters was not reviewed at all on Mauchline
Muir. Colonel Wallace, who commanded it, halted there, to be sure, on
his way from Edinburgh — where he was residing when the rising com- j
menced — to the west country, with a small party he had collected in his I
progress, to put himself at the head of the main body. On arriving at \
Ayr, Colonel Wallace found the Covenanters, who had previously been \
billeted in the town, encamped near the Bridge of Doon. Neither his- '-
tory nor tradition mentions the precise spot of encampment ; but it was, ''.
in all likelihood, upon the rising ground at the east end of Newark Hill, >
where a large flat stone lies as a memorial, it is said, of the people having (
there assembled to witness the destruction of one of the ships of the Span- *

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

ish Armada. A stronger position could not have been selected. Almost
immediately on the arrival of Colonel Wallace, the resolution was adopted
of moving eastwards towards the capital. From the prostrate and dis-
pirited state of the country at the time, and the hurried and inconsiderate
nature of the movement, the friends of the cause did not rally round the
standard of the Covenant in such numbers, and with the alacrity expect-
ed. A vast accession of strength, however, was calculated upon in their
progress eastward. The march was accordingly commenced on Wednes-
day, the 21st November. Aware that Dalziel, at the head of a consider-
able body of cavalry, had come as far as Glasgow to oppose them, the
Covenanters proceeded slowly notwithstanding, with the view of affording
their friends ample opportunity to join them. The first night they halted
not far from Gadgirth House, on the water of Ayr. Next day they moved
on towards Ochiltree, on the road to which a rendezvous had been ap-
pointed, where they met a party of friends from Cuninghame.* While
assembling in the field appropriated for the purpose, they had sermon from
Mr Gabriel Semple. The principal body thereafter marched into Ochil-
tree— a portion of the cavalry keeping guard without the town. The
officers were quartered in the house of Sir John Cochrane, who was friendly
to the cause. Their welcome, however, was somewhat cold, Sir John not
being at home — and the lady, as stated by Colonel Wallace, professed not
to " see their call." From thence the Covenanters directed their course
by Cumnock, Muirkirk, Douglas, Lanark — their numbers increasing so
slowly that it was deliberated whether the enterprise should not be aban-
doned. They resolved, however, still to persevere, in defiance of every
discouragement. Between Lanark and Collinton, which village is within
a few miles of Edinburgh, the little army of Colonel Wallace, from the
severity of the weather and the privations to which they were subjected,
had diminished almost to a third. Disheartened — for their friends did
not turn out as they were led to hope — and suffering from fatigue, they
were by no means in a fit condition to face an enemy. They were not

* Wodrow gives a curious account of a meeting of certain gentlemen of Cuning-
hame and Renfrewshire, who intended to have joined Wallace. They were, however,
taken prisoners, and had their estates confiscated. The place of meeting was at
Chitterfiat, in the parish of Beith.

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

only ill armed and undisciplined, but ill officered — there not being above
five officers amongst them who had been in the army. Wallace, however,
was himself a soldier of indomitable resolution, and no small capacity as a
commander. Learning that Dalziel, with his troops, was immediately in
the rear, he diverged from the main road to Edinburgh towards the Pent-
land Hills, where he drew up his ill-conditioned army in order of battle, i
and awaited the approach of the king's forces. The cavalry were divided
into two sections — the one on the right, and the other on the left of the j
infantry, which was a heterogenous, half-armed mass. The whole did \
not amount to more than 900 men ; while the well-equipped force under {
Dalziel is said to have numbered about 3000. Dalziel attempted to turn \
the left wing of the Covenanters, but he was gallantly repulsed ; and had j
Wallace at that moment possessed forces sufficient to have taken advantage I
of the confusion which ensued, the battle might have been his own. A \
similar attempt on the right wing was repulsed with equal bravery ; but a
third onset, directed against the body of foot in the centre, proved decisive
of the day. They were thrown into irretrievable confusion, and the battle
became a rout. Colonel Wallace escaped unpursued from the field, and \
afterwards found his way to the Continent. He died at Rotterdam, in \
1678, one of the most esteemed, perhaps, of all the Scottish exiles of that \
time. Colonel Wallace had adopted the military profession at an early \
period of his life. He distinguished himself in the parliamentary army \
during the civil war, in which he rose to the rank of Lieut. -Colonel. He \
served in the Marquis of Argyle's regiment in Ireland from 1642 till 1645, \
when he was recalled to aid in opposing Montrose, by whom he was taken j
prisoner at the battle of Kilsyth. In 1650, when Charles II. came from
the Continent at the entreaty of the Scottish parliament, two regiments
being ordered to be embodied of " the choicest of the army, and fitted for
that trust," one of horse and another of foot, as his body guards, Wallace
was appointed Lieut. -Colonel of the foot regiment, under Lord Lorn, who
was Colonel. Sir James Balfour, Lord Lyon King at Arms, by his Ma-
jesty's command, set down the devices upon the ensigns and colours of these
regiments. Those of the Lieut. -Colonel [Wallace] were azure, a unicorn
argent, and on the other side, in " grate gold letters," these words, " Cov-
enant for religion, King and Kingdoms." At the battle of Dunbar, Wal-

HUGHIE GRAHAM.

lace was again made prisoner. He obtained his freedom, however, in the
end of that year. From the Restoration in 1660, he seems to have lived
in retirement, until November, 1666, when he headed the Covenanters at
Pentland. Colonel Wallace possessed the estate of Auchans, the mansion-
house of which, now in ruins, is situated in the vicinity of Dundonald
Castle. His family were a branch of the Wallaces of Craigie. He was
the last of the name that owned the property, having disposed of it, be-
fore engaging in the insurrection, to his relative Sir William Cochrane
of Cowdon, the progenitor of the Lords Dundonald. The parties
against whom the doom of forfeiture was pronounced by act of Parlia- I
merit in 1669, as participators in the outbreak, were — " Collonell James \

Wallace, Joseph Lermonth, M-'Clellane of Barscobe, Mr John \

Welsh, master James Smith, Patrick Listoun in Calder, William Listoun \
his son, William Porterfield of Quarreltoun, William Mure of Caldwell. \

Caldwell, eldest son to the goodman of Caldwell, Robert Ker of >

Kersland, Mr John Cuninghame of Bedlan, Alexander Porterfield, bro- )

ther to Quarreltoun, John Maxwell of Monreith younger, M'Clellan \

of Belmagachan, Mr Gabriell Semple, Mr John Guthrie, Mr Alexander
Pedan, Mr William Veitch, Mr John Crookshanks, and Patrick M'Naught
in Cumnock." — History of Ayrshire.

igufifjte <&raf)attu

Our lords are to the mountains gane,

A hunting o' the fallow deer,
And they have gripet Hughie Graham,

For stealing o' the bishop's mare.

And they have tied him hand and foot,
And led him up thro' Stirling town ;

The lads and lasses met him there,

Cried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loon.

HUGHIE GRAHAM.

O lowse my right hand free, he says,
And put my braid sword in the same ;

He's no in Stirling town this day,
Dare tell the tale to Hughie Graham.

Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,
As he sat by the bishop's knee,

Five hundred white stots I'll gi'e you,
If you'll let Hughie Graham gae free.

O haud your tongue, the bishop says,
And wi' your pleading let me be :

For tho' ten Grahams were in his coat,
Hughie Graham this day shall die.

Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,
As she sat by the bishop's knee ;

Five hundred white pence I'll gie to you,
If you'll gi'e Hughie Graham to me.

O haud your tongue, now lady fair,
And wi' your pleading let me be ;

Altho' ten Grahams were in his coat,
It's for my honour he maun die.

They've ta'en him to the gallows knowe,
He looked to the gallows tree,

Yet never colour left his cheek,
Nor ever did he blink his e'e.

At length he looked round about,
To see whatever he could spy ;

And there he saw his auld father,
And he was weeping bitterly.

O haud your tongue, my father dear,
And wi' your weeping let it be ;

HUGHIE GRAHAM.

Thy weeping's sairer on my heart
Than a' that they can do to me.

And ye may gi'e my brother John

My sword that's bent in the middle clear,

And let him come at twelve o'clock,
And see me pay the bishop's mare.

And ye may gi'e my brother James

My sword that's bent in the middle brown,

And bid him come at four o'clock,
And see his brother Hugh cut down.

Remember me to Maggie my wife,

The neist time ye gang o'er the muir,
Tell her she staw the bishop's mare,

Tell her she was the bishop's w — e.

And ye may tell my kith and kin,

I never did disgrace their blood ;
And when they meet with the bishop's cloak,

To mak' it shorter by the hood.

Burns says, in his " Notes on Scottish Song," " there are several editions
of this ballad. This here inserted is from oral tradition in Ayrshire, where,
when I was a boy, it was a popular song. It originally had a simple old
tune, which I have forgotten." The poet is somewhat mistaken, however.
He makes the scene of the tragedy Stirling, whereas it should be Carlisle.
The Bishop of Carlisle, it is said, about 1560, seduced the wife of Hughie
Graham, a Scottish borderer. In revenge Graham stole from the bishop
a fine mare, but was taken and executed, the bishop being resolved to re-
move the main obstacle to the indulgence of his guilty passion. " Burns
did not choose," says Cromek, " to be quite correct in stating, that this
copy of the ballad of Hughie Graham is printed from oral tradition in
Ayrshire. The truth is, that four of the stanzas are either altered or sup-
per-added by himself. Of this number the third and eighth are original;
the ninth and tenth have received his original corrections. Perhaps pathos

F 49

was never more touching than in the picture of the hero singling out his
poor aged father from the crowd of spectators ; and the simple grandeur
of preparation for this afflicting circumstance, in the verse that immediately
precedes it, is matchless. That the reader may properly appreciate the
value of Burns' touches, I here subjoin two verses from the most correct
copy of the ballad, as it is printed in the * Border Minstrelsy.'

' He looked over his left shoulder,

And for to see what he might see,
There was he aware of his auld father,

Came tearing his hair most piteouslie.

' O baud your tongue, my father, he says,

And see that ye dinna weep for me !
For they may ravish me o' my life,

But they canna banish me from heaven hie.' "

Though the incidents of this ballad belong to the border, the fact of its popu-
larity in Ayrshire, and especially having undergone the improving "touches" .
of Burns, as stated by Cromek, on the authority of the Poet's widow, fully
warrant us in giving it a place among the " Ballads and Songs of
Ayrshire." The Whitefoords — one of whom is represented as having
interceded for " Hughie Graham" — are well known as an ancient family
in Renfrewshire and Lanarkshire, and latterly in Ayrshire. Nisbet says —
" The eldest branch of this family is Whitefoord of Blairquhan, in the shire of
Air, descended of a younger son of Whitefoord of that Ilk and Miltoun, who
took up his residence in the shire of Air with his brother who was Abot
of Crosragwall in the reign of King James IV." The "Whitefords were
not in possession of Blairquhan till much latter than 1560, the assigned
era of the ballad ; still they may have been in a position to interfere for the
life of the borderer. It was not unusual for persons of influence to inter-
est themselves in behalf of criminals of a deeper die than " Hughie Gra-
ham." In Auchinleck House there is a half-length portrait of a noted
sheep-lifter of the name of Gilchrist, whose life had been twice preserved
through the influence and legal tact of Lord Auchinleck, while an advo-
cate at the Scottish bar. As his lordship was not elevated to the bench
till 1750, the circumstance must have occurred about a hundred years ago.
Gilchrist was an extraordinary character. He had his dog so well train-
ed that he required only to point out a particular sheep in a flock, though

tats*""""

«s£$©

THE BATTLE OP LOUDOUN HILL.

at several miles distance, and the collie was sure to separate it from the
rest — driving it away round the hills, apart from his master altogether,
so as to prevent suspicion, till they met at a convenient spot beyond obser-
vation. Sheep-lifting was then a more heinous crime in the eye of the law
than it is at present, and few found guilty of the offence escaped the gal-
lows. Gilchrist being a native of Auchinleck parish — or at least of the
neighbourhood — probably caused Boswell to take a greater interest in his
fate ; and, as already stated, he twice succeeded in pleading his cause so
well that no condemnation followed. The last time, however, he seriously
warned him to refrain from his mal-practices in future ; for it was not at
all probable he could be again so fortunate. Gilchrist thanked his bene-
factor for his advice ; but in the genuine spirit of a freebooter, candidly
admitted that he could not forbear the lifting of sheep. It had become
natural to him, he said, and if he must be hanged he could not help it.
He might as well die on the gallows as anywhere else. As predicted by
Boswell, the third time did not prove canny for honest Gilchrist. He
was tried, condemned, and executed. The portrait of him at Auchinleck
was taken while he lay in prison. He seems to have been a person of
considerable intellect ; but the eye wears an expression of determination
characteristic of the man.

Efje battle of Uoutoun JgtlL

You'l marvel when I tell ye o'
Our noble Burly, and his train ;

When last he march'd up thro' the land,
Wir sax-and-twenty westland men.

Than they I ne'er o' braver heard,
For they had a' baith wit and skill ;

They proved right well, as I heard tell,
As they cam' up o'er Loudoun Hill.

Weel prosper a* the gospel lads,
That are into the west countrie ;

THE BATTLE OF LOUDOUN HILL.

Ay wicked Claver'se to demean,
And ay an ill dead may he die I

For he's drawn up i' the battle rank,
An' that baith soon and hastilie ;

But they wha live till simmer come,
Some bludie days for this will see.

But up spak' cruel Claver'se then,
Wi' hastie wit, an' wicked skill ;

" Gi'e fire on yon westlan' men ;
I think it is my sov'reign's will."

But up bespake his cornet, then,
" It's be wi' nae consent o' me !

I ken I'll ne'er come back again,
And mony mae as weel as me.

" There is not ane of a' yon men,
But wha is worthy other three ;

There is na ane amang them a',
That in his cause will stap to die,

" An' as for Burly, him I knaw ;

He's a man of honour, birth, and fame ;
Gi'e him a sword into his hand,

He'll fight thysel' an' other ten."

But up spake wicked Claver'se then,
I wat his heart it raise fu' hie !

And he has cried that a' might hear,
" Man, ye ha'e sair deceived me.

" I never ken'd the like afore,

Na, never since I came frae hame,

That you so cowardly here suld prove,
An' yet come of a noble Graeme."

THE BATTLE OF LOUDOUN HILL.

But up bespake his cornet, then,

" Since that it is your honour's will,
Mysel' shall be the foremost man,

That shall gi'e fire on Loudoun Hill.

" At your command I'll lead them on,

But yet wi' nae consent o' me ;
For weel I ken I'll ne'er return,

And mony mae as weel as me."

Then up he drew in battle rank ;

I wat he had a bonnie train !
But the first time that bullets flew,

Ay he lost twenty o' his men.

Then back he came the way he gaed,

I wat right soon and suddenly !
He gave command among his men,

And sent them back, and bade them flee.

Then up came Burly, bauld an' stout,

Wi's little train o' westland men ;
Wha mair than either aince or twice

In Edinburgh confined had been.

They ha'e been up to London sent,

An* yet they're a' come safely down ;
Sax troop o' horsemen they ha'e beat,

And chased them into Glasgow town.

The " Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border" — from which the foregoing bal-
lad is copied — does not say from what source it was obtained ; whether
from MS. or recitation. The affair to which it refers is well known —
not only historically, but as interwoven with one of the Author of Waver-
ley's most interesting national fictions. The battle of Loudoun Hill, or
Drumclog, was fought on Sabbath, the 1st of June, 1679 — Claverhouse,
with a party of dragoons from Glasgow, having come upon the Cove-

nanters while engaged in worship near the base of the hill. The latter
were headed by Robert Hamilton, brother of Sir Robert Hamilton of
Preston, Balfour or Burly of Kinloch, and Hackston of Rathillet. They
obtained a complete victory over Claverhouse, who was compelled to seek
safety in flight. His nephew, Robert Graham, the " cornet " of the ballad
— who seems to have had some foreboding of his fate — was left dead on
the field. With the exception of William Clealand, who, along with Hack-
\ ston, led on the foot, the history of all the others who took a prominent
part in the conflict is familiar to most readers. Of his parentage little
is known ; but there can be no doubt that they were respectable. He was
born in 1671, so that, at the battle of Drumclog, he would be no more
than eighteen years of age. He held the rank of Captain both there and
at the disastrous affair at Bothwell Brig. His enthusiasm^ in the cause
may be guessed from the fact of his having been attending his classes at
the college immediately prior to the rising. Whether he afterwards went
abroad is unknown. If so, he must have returned in the equally unfor-
tunate expedition of Argyle, for he is known to have passed the " summer
of 1685 in hiding among the wilds of Clydesdale and Ayrshire." After the
Revolution, Clealand was rewarded for his zeal and consistency by having
conferred upon him the appointment of Lieutenant- Colonel of the Camer-
onian Regiment, of which the Earl of Angus was Colonel. Clealand did
not long enjoy his preferment. In 1689, immediately after the battle of
Killicrankie, he was despatched to the Highlands with a small force, as an
advanced corps of observation. Taking post at Dunkeld, he was sur-
rounded by the remains of that army whom Dundee had so often led to
victory. Though he had only 800 men to oppose 4000, he gallantly re-
solved to fight to the last, declaring to his soldiers " that, if they chose to
desert him, he would stand out by himself, for the honour of the regiment
and the good cause in which he was engaged." His enthusiasm produced
a corresponding spirit amongst the Cameronians. The town of Dunkeld
was attacked by the Highlanders in the most determined manner ; but
they were met with such resolution that they were ultimately compelled
to retire, leaving three hundred dead on the field. This, the most gallant
action during the whole of the civil war of that period, was dearly pur-
chased by the death of the Colonel himself. While encouraging his sol-

THE BATTLE OF LOUDOUN HILL.

I diers " in front of Dunkeld House, two bullets pierced his head, and one
\ his liver, simultaneously. He turned about, and endeavoured to get back
into the house, in order that his death might not discourage his men ; but
he fell before reaching the threshhold." This occurred on the 21st of
August, 1689. Clealand was a poet as well as a soldier. When at col-
lege he wrote a continuation of " Holloa, my Fancy," which is described
in a note to the "Minstrelsy" as " a wild raphsody/' but which, neverthe-
less, displays much talent in so young a writer. In the lines —

" Fain would I know if beasts have any reason !
If falcons, killing eagles, do commit a treason"

Sir Walter Scott discovered the anti-monarchial principles of the youth-
ful hero. But, taking the whole scope of the poem into consideration, we
think no such inference can be justly drawn. Besides, the principles of the
Cameronians or Covenanters were not anti-monarchial. Colonel Clealand
was the author of several other poems — one in particular on the descent
of the " Highland Host" in 1768 — written in the Hudibrastic style. His
poems were published in 1697 — nine years after his death. In connection
with the battle of Drumclog, it is mentioned in the Statistical Account of
Loudoun Parish, that when Captain Nisbet of Hardhill, who commanded
the Loudoun troops at Bothwell, was on his way to Drumclog on the
morning of the battle, he, in passing Darvel, induced John Morton, smith,
to " accompany him to the field, where his brawny arm would find suffi-
cient occupation. John followed Nisbet in the charge. A royal dra-
goon, who was on the ground, entangled in the trappings of his wounded
horse, begged quarter from John, whose arm was uplifted to cut him
down. The dragoon's life was spared, and he was led by the smith as a
prisoner to the camp of the Covenanters. But the life which was spared
on the field of battle was demanded by those who saw, in the royal party,
\ not merely cruel persecutors but idolatrous Amalekites, whom they were
bound in duty to execute. The smith declared, that, sooner than give up
his prisoner's life, he would forfeit his own! The dragoon's life, thus
defended, by the powerful smith, wras spared, but the smith was banished
from the army as a disobedient soldier. The dragoon's sword is now in
the possession of John Morton's representative, Andrew Gebbie in Dar-
vel." The vicinity of Loudoun Hill was the scene of various warlike ex-

OER THE MOOR AMANG THE HEATHER.

ploits. A battle is understood to have been fought here with the Romans ;
and here Wallace and Bruce were victorious over the English in two sep-
arate exploits.

<&'et tfje Jftoot amang tjje J^eatfjer,

Comin' thro' the Craigs o' Kyle,*

- Araang the bonnie blooming heather,

There I met a bonnie lassie

Keeping a' her yowes thegether.

O'er the moor amang the heather,
O'er the moor amang the heather,
There I met a bonnie lassie
Keeping a' her yowes thegether.

Says I, my dear, where is thy hame,
In moor or dale, pray tell me whether ?

She says, I tent the fleecy flocks,
That feed amang the blooming heather.
O'er the moor, &c.

We laid us down upon a bank,

Sae warm and sunny was the weather ;

She left her flocks at large to rove,
Amang the bonnie blooming heather.
O'er the moor, &c.

While thus we lay she sang a sang,
Till echo rang a mile and farther ;

* The Craigs o' Kyle are a range of small hills about a mile south of the village of
Coilton, in the parish of that name.

OER THE MOOR AMANG. THE HEATHER.

And aye the burden o' the sang
Was — o'er the moor amang the heather.
O'er the moor, &c.

She charm'd my heart, an' aye sin syne,

I coudna think on ony ither :
By sea and sky she shall be mine !

The bonnie lass amang the heather.
O'er the moor, &c.

Burns communicated this song to " Johnson's Scots Musical Museum ;"
and in his " Remarks on Scottish Songs and Ballads," he states, in lan-
guage somewhat rude, that it " is the composition of a Jean Glover, a
girl who was not only a , but also a thief; and in one or other char-
acter has visited most of the correction houses in the west. She was
born, I believe, in Kilmarnock : I took the song down from her singing
as she was strolling with a slight-of-hand blackguard through the coun-
try." Though the song alluded to has been long popular, and copied into
numerous collections, this is all that has hitherto transpired respecting
Jeanie Glover. That the song was her own we are left in no manner of
doubt ; for it must be inferred, from the positive statement of the Poet,
that she had herself assured him of the fact. It is well that Burns ex-
pressed himself in decided language ; for otherwise it would scarcely be
credited that one of our sweetest and most simple lyrics should have been
the production of a person whose habits and course of life were so irregu-
lar. When at Muirkirk, we were fortunate enough to learn a few par-
ticulars relative to Jeanie Glover. A niece of hers still resides there,* and
one or two old people distinctly remember having seen her. She was born
at theTownhead of Kilmarnock on the 31st October, 1758, of parents re-
spectable in their sphere.f That her education was superior, the circum-
stances of her birth will not permit us to believe ; but she was brought up

* A sister's son and daughter also live at the Sorn.

f " James Glover, weaver in Kilmarnock, and Jean Thomson, both their first mar-
riages, had their 3d child born on Tuesday, October 31, 1758, and baptized Jean, on
Sabbath, Nov. 5, 1758, by Mr John Cunningham, minister, Dalmellington. — Extracted
from the Register of Births and Baptisms of the Town and Parish of Kilmarnock,
upon the 17th day of January, 1839. Wh. Anderson, Sess. Clk."

in the principles of rectitude, and had the advantage of that early instruc-
tion which few Scottish families are without. She was remarkable for
beauty — both of face and figure— properties which, joined to a romantic
and poetic fancy, had no doubt their influence in shaping her future un-
fortunate career. She was also an excellent singer. Until within these
few years, Kilmarnock had no theatre, or at least any building so called ;
but strolling parties of players were in the habit of frequenting the town
at fairs, and on other public occasions, sometimes performing in booths, or
in the " Croft Lodge," long known as a place of amusement. Having
been a witness to some of these exhibitions, Jeanie unhappily became en-
amoured of the stage ; and in an evil hour eloped with one of the heroes
of the sock and buskin. Her subsequent life, as may be guessed, was one
of adventure, checkered, if Burns is to be credited, with the extremes of
folly, vice, and misfortune. About the time the Iron Works commenced,
a brother of Jeanie (James Glover) removed from Kilmarnock to Muir-
kirk ; and there, in the employ of " the Company," continued until his death,
which occurred about fourteen years ago, leaving a daughter (the niece
formerly mentioned), whose husband is one of the carpenters employed at
the works. This individual, as well as several others, recollects having
seen Jeanie and the " slight-of-hand blackguard" — whose name was Rich-
ard— at Muirkirk, forty-three years ago (about 1795), where they per-
formed for a few nights in the large room of a public-house called the
" Black Bottle," from a sign above the door of that description, kept by
one David Lennox. During her stay on this occasion she complimented
her brother with a cheese and a boll of meal— a circumstance strongly in-
dicative of her sisterly affection, and the success that had attended the
entertainments given by her and her husband. Those persons who re-
collect her appearance at this time, notwithstanding the many viscissitudes
she must have previously encountered, describe her as exceedingly hand-
some. One old woman with whom we conversed, also remembered hav-
ing seen Jeanie at a fair in Irvine, gaily attired, and playing on a tam-
barine at the mouth of a close, in which was the exhibition-room of her
husband the conjurer. " Weel do I remember her," said our informant,
" an' thocht her the bravest woman I had ever seen step in leather shoon!"
Such are our Muirkirk reminiscences of Jeanie Glover. From another

paterson's filly gaes foremost.

The black and the brown ,
Gang nearest the town,

John Paterson's filly gaes foremost.

The black and the grey
Gang a' their ain way,

John Paterson's filly gaes foremost.

The black and the din
They fell a' ahin,

John Paterson's filly gaes foremost.

The black and the yellow
Gae up like a swallow,

John Paterson's filly gaes foremost.

This apparently unmeaning ditty, taken from recitation, is wed to a spirited
and rather pleasant rant in imitation of the galloping of a horse. It is said

source we learn that she sometimes paid a theatrical visit to her native
town. One individual there, who knew her well, states that he has heard
her sing in the " Croft Lodge." The song she generally sung, and for
which she was most famed, was " Green grow the rashes." The same
person afterwards became a soldier ; and, being in Ireland with his regi-
ment, happened to see Jeanie performing in the town of Letterkenny. He
introduced himself to her acquaintance, and had the honour of her com-
pany over a social glass. This occurred in 1801. She was then appar-
ently in good health, gay and sprightly as when in her native country ;
but, alas! before he left Letterkenny — and he was only about two months
in it — she was " mouldering in silent dust." She must therefore have
died rather suddenly, in or near that town, in the year above mentioned.
— Contemporaries of Burns.

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

to have reference to a band of Carrick Covenanters, while passing through
Ayr, on their way to the general rendezvous at Bothwell Brig, in 1679.
The hero of the song was — according to the tradition of his descendants
— John Paterson of Ballaird, in the parish of Colmonell, who was a zeal-
ous promoter of the Covenant, and who endured no small persecution
for its sake. The author, or authors of the lines and air are, so far as
we are aware, unknown.

2Tf)e Nofiie dTamils of Jtftontgomette,

A Noble Roman was the root
From which Montgomeries came,

Who brought his legion from the war,
And settled the same.

Upon an Hill 'twixt Rome and Spaing

*Gomericus by name ;
From whom he and his offspring do

Their sir-name still retain.

From this, unto the wars of France,

Their valour did them bring,
That they great instruments might be,

To save the Gaelic king.

Here, with great splendour and renown,

Six centuries they spend :
At length for England they set sail ;

Ambition hath no end.

On British ground they land at length ;

Rodger must general be,
A cousin of the Conqueror's,

And fittest to supplie

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

The greatest post into the field,

The army then leads he
Into a camp, Hastings by name,

In Sussex, where you'll see

The marks of camps unto this day ;

And where you'll here it told,
The English king did them attack

Most like a captain bold ;

But soon, alas! he found it vain,

With Rodger arms to try ;
This wary officer prepares,

His projects to defy.

The strong attacks he then observes,
Which made him thence to dread,

That England's king might be among
Those who charg'd with such speed :

The life-guards straight he ordered,

Their fury to defend ;
When Harold, England's king, at once

His crown and life did end.

Whence to the Conqueror did come

The English sceptre great,
And William, England's king, declar'd,

To London came in state.

""Earl Rodger, then, the greatest man,
Next to the King was thought ;

And nothing that he could desire
But it to him was brought.

* Dugdale's Baronage, and History of England.

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF NONTGOMERIE.

Montgomerie town, Montgomerie shire,

And Earl of Shrewsburie,
And Arundale, do shew this man

Of grandeur full to be.

Thus did he live all this King's reign :

For works of piety
He built an abbacie, and then

Prepar'd himself to die.

At last King William yields to fate ;

And then his second son
Mounts on the throne, which had almost

The kingdom quite undone :

Some for the eldest son stand up,

As Rodger's son's did all :
But the usurper keeps the throne,

Which did begin their fall.

Then Philip into Scotland came,

Unable to endure,
That they who earldoms had possest,

Of nought should be secure.

The King of Scots well knew the worth

Of men of noble race,
Who in no time of ages past

Their worth did once deface.

He in the Merse gives Philip lands,

Which afterwards he soon,
With the Black Douglas did exchange

For Eastwood and Ponoon.

Where many ages they did live,
By King and country lov'd ;

(>J

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

As men of valour and renown,
Who were with honour mov'd ;

To shun no hazard when they could

To either service do ;
Thus did they live, thus did they spend

Their blood and money too.

At last Earl Douglas did inform,
That, to our King's disgrace,

An English earl had deeply swore,
He'd hunt in Chevychase,

And maugre all that Scots could

Would kill and bear away
The choicest deer of Otterburn,

And best of harts would slay.

Our King set his commands unto

Sir Hugh Montgomerie,
And told him Douglas wanted men

Who fight could, but not flee.

*The stout Sir Hugh himself prepares

The Douglas to support ;
And with him took his eldest son :

Then did they all resort

Unto the field, with their brave men,
Where most of them did die ;

Of fifteen hundred warlike Scots
Came home but fifty-three.

Douglas was slain ; Sir Hugh again
The battle did renew ;

* Histories of Stevenston.

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

He made no stand, with his own hand
The Earl Piercy he slew.

Sir Hugh was slain, Sir John maintain'd

The honour of the day ;
And with him brought the victory,

And Piercy's son away.

He with his ransom built Ponoon,

A Castle which yet stands ;
The King, well pleas' d, as a reward

Did therefore give him lands.

And sometime after gave his neice,

Of Eglintoun the heir,
To Sir Hugh's representative ;

Thus joined was this pair.

As with her came a great estate,

So by her did descend,
Her royal blood to *Lennox house,

Which did in Darnly end ;

Who father was to James the Sixth,

Of Britain the first King,
Whose royal race unto this day,

Doth o'er Great Britain reign.

Since you are come of royal blood,
And Kings are sprung from you,

See that, with greatest zeal and love,
Those virtues ye pursue

Which to those honours rais'd your house,
And shall, without all stain,

* Earl of Lennox.

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

In heralds books' your ensigns flower'd
And counter-flower'd maintain.

Tins ballad is supposed to have been written about one hundred years
ago. It gives to the noble family of Montgomerie a Roman origin. This
may be regarded as somewhat hypothetical, however probable ; but there
can be no doubt that Roger de Montgomerie, the first of the name in Eng-
land, came over from Normandy with the Conqueror, and that he com-
manded the van of the invading army at the decisive battle of Hastings.
What was the precise relationship between William and Montgomerie does
not appear from the genealogical records ; but that the connection was
intimate may be inferred from the fact that he had no less than "one
hundred and fifty lordships in various counties, including nearly the whole
of that of Salop," conferred upon him as a reward for his services, or rather
as his share of the rich kingdom which their Norman swords had won
for them. The family, however, did not long enjoy their inheritance and
honours in England. Robert, the eldest son of Roger, and who suc-
ceeded him in his titles and estates, having taken part with the Duke of
Normandy against Henry I. in his claim to the Crown, forfeited the whole
of his possessions. He, notwithstanding, retained the property in Nor-
mandy, which descended to his son, he having been himself first banish-
ed and afterwards imprisoned. This occurred in 1113.

" Then Philip into Scotland came "
Says the ballad, and obtained a gift of lands in the Merse, which he after-
wards exchanged for Eastwood and Fonoon. This does not accord with
the descent of the family as given in the various " Peerages." Walter,
and not Philip, Montgomerie, a grandson it is supposed of Earl Roger,
settled in Scotland on the invitation of King David I., by whom he was
created Lord High Steward, and had many favours showered upon him.
Walter appears to have died without issue. Robert de Montgomerie, the
immediate ancestor of the Eglintoun family, who came along with Walter,
obtained the manor of Eaglesham, in Renfrewshire ; which property con-
tinued in the possession of his descendant until the present Earl of Eglin-
toun sold it a few years ago. The death of Robert occurred in 1177.
John de Montgomerie, the lineal descendant of Robert, acquired the bar-
onies of Eglintoun and Ardrossan, in Ayrshire, by marriage with the heiress

H 65

of Sir Hugh de Eglintoun, Knight. This lady was connected with the
royal family — her mother, Egidia, being a sister of Robert II. John de
Montgomerie, it is said, distinguished himself greatly at the battle of Ot-
terburne in 1388. The circumstance, however, is so variously recorded,
that it is difficult to say which is the correct version. According to the
Montgomerie ballad, John, after the death of his father, Sir Hugh, who,
when Douglas was dead, " the battle did renew," maintained the fight,
and " brought victory and Earl Piercy's son away," Sir Hugh having pre-
viously slain Percy himself. The ballad of the " Battle of Otterbourne,"
given in the " Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," represents the occur-
rence differently. No mention whatever is made of John de Montgom-
erie ; and Sir Hugh — who is described as the " sister's son" of Douglas —
is represented as the captor of Percy —

" The Percy and Montgomerie met,

That either of other were fain,
They swapped swords, and they twa swat,

And aye the blude ran down between.

" ' Yield thee, O yield thee, Percy!' he said,

* Or else I vow I'll lay thee low !'
' Whom too shall I yield," said Early Percy,

' Now that I see it must be so 1 '

" c Thou shall not yield to lord nor loun,

Nor yet shalt thou yield to me ;
But yield thee to the braken bush,

That grows upon yon lilye lee !'

" ' I will not yield to a braken bush,

Nor yet will I yield to a briar ;
But I would yield to Earl Douglas,

Or Sir Hugh the Montgomerie, if he were here.'

" As soon as he knew it was Montgomerie,
He stuck his sword's point in the gronde,

And the Montgomerie was a courteous knight,
And quickly took him by the honde."

The English version, on the other hand, pointedly mentions the death of
Sir Hugh —

" — — an English archer then perceived
The noble Earl was slain.

" He had a bow bent in his hand,

Made of a trusty tree,
An arrow of a cloth-yard long

Unto the head drew he.

" Against Sir Hugh Montgomerie, **

So right his shaft he set,
The gray goose wing that was thereon,

In his heart-blood was wet."

Sir Walter Scott admits that the Minstrelsy ballad is inaccurate in several
particulars. But it is worthy of remark, that the inaccuracies alluded to
occur in all the ballads. "Earl Percy" is invariably spoken of as having
been present, which, according to the most authentic accounts of the affair,*
was not the case. Sir Henry Percy, eldest son of the Earl, better known
as Hotspur, and his brother Ralph, led on the English forces. Both were
taken prisoners — Hotspur by the Montgomerie; but whether by Sir Hugh
or John — or whether the latter was the son or a younger brother of the
former — it is impossible to decide. All the metrical accounts of the battle
were evidently composed long after the event itself; and tradition is sel-
dom precise in matters of detail. But that Hotspur was taken prisoner
by one of the family of Montgomerie, is a fact apparently too well estab-
lished by concurrent testimony to be disputed. According to Crawford's
genealogy, that individual was the John de Montgomerie already men-
tioned, who, he states, lost his eldest son, Sir Hugh, in the battle, thus
differing essentially from the Montgomerie ballad as to the propinquity of
the two Montgomeries. The descendants of the heir of Otterbourne, on
whom the titles of Baron Montgomerie and Earl of Eglintoun were re-
spectively conferred in 1448 and 1507, continued in possession in a direct
male line down to Hugh, the fifth Earl, who, dying without issue, was
succeeded by his cousin and heir, Sir Alexander Seton of Foulstruther,
whose mother, Lady Margaret, was daughter of Hugh, the third Earl of
Eglintoun, and who assumed the name of Montgomerie. In consequence
of this connection, the noble house of Seton, as well as Montgomerie, is

* Scott, in remarking this blunder, does not observe that the historians — Fordun,
Froissart, and others — fall into a similar error in stating that " Harry Percy himself
was taken by Lord Montgomerie" — a title which none of the family possessed at that
time.

THE NOBLE FAMILY OF MONTGOMERIE.

represented by the present Earl of Eglintoun. The family, down to our
own day, has all along sustained unsullied the chivalrous character be-
queathed to them by their forefathers, the heroes of Hastings and Otter-
bourne. Hugh, the first Earl of Eglintoun, was in especial favour with
James IV., with whom he fought at Flodden Field, and was amongst the
few nobility who escaped from it. In the civil wars which followed the ^
Reformation, the Montgomeries of Eglintoun took a leading part. A x
deadly feud existed between the Eglintoun family and that of Glencairn, \
which commenced, according to Chalmers, the author of Caledonia, about \
1498, and continued till after the Union of the Crowns in 1602. The |
feud referred to the office of King's Bailie in Cuninghame — which was j
originally held by the Kilmaurs family — but which had been conferred by I
royal charter on Alexander, first Baron Montgomerie. On the renewal \
of this charter to his grandson, Hugh, in 1498, the feud is supposed by
Chalmers to have first manifested itself in the hostility of Cuthbert, Lord I
Kilmaurs. This is countenanced by the fact that, according to the Great \
Seal Register, he was bound over, in February of the following year, \
for himself and followers, to keep the peace. There is reason, however, |
for believing that the feud had commenced at an earlier period — Keir- i
law Castle, in the parish of Stevenston, then possessed by the Cuning- [
hames, having been sacked and partially destroyed by the Montgomeries I
in 1488. In 1505, John, Master of Montgomerie, was summoned in Par- \
liament for having been participant in attacking and wounding William \
Cuninghame of Craigends, the King's coroner for Renfrewshire, a rela- ?
tive of Lord Kilmaurs. The differences of the two families were at length \
submitted, in 1500, to arbiters mutually chosen, who gave a decision in
favour of the Earl of Eglintoun, who was declared to have a full and
heritable right to the office of Bailie of Cuninghame. This decision,
however, did not terminate the misunderstanding. In 1517, a remis-
sion was granted to the Master of Glencairn, and twenty-seven fol-
lowers, for the slaughter of Matthew Montgomerie, Archibald Caldwell,
and John Smith, and for wounding the son and heir of the Earl of Eg-
lintoun. In 1528, Eglintoun Castle was attacked and burned by the same
Master of Glencairn and his followers, in retaliation, it is supposed, for the
sacking of Keirlaw forty years previously. No deed of remarkable vio-

TIIE NICIIT IS NEIR GONE.

lence seems to have occurred between the two families until 1586, when
Hugh, the fourth Earl of Eglintoun — who had newly succeeded to his
father — was way-laid and shot by the Cuninghames of Kobertland and
Aiket, at the river Annock. This cold-blooded murder, instigated, it is
believed, by the Earl of Glencairn, was afterwards, as Spottiswoode ob-
serves, "honourably revenged" by the Master of Eglintoun, brother to the
deceased Earl ; but in what manner, does not appear. He, to be sure,
took possession of Robertland and Aiket, by virtue of an ordinance of the
King in Council, until the owners should deliver themselves up to justice.
But Glencairn had sufficient influence with the King to obtain a remis-
sion for the offenders, and to have the order in Council cancelled by an
act of Parliament in 1592. This did not terminate the feud. So late as
1606, while the Parliament and Council were sitting at Perth, Lord Seton
and his brother happening to meet Glencairn and his followers, a rencontre
occurred between them — the Setons having drawn their swords in revenge
for the death of their uncle the Earl of Eglintoun. The parties, however,
were separated before any material mischief was done.

Cfje Ntcfjt ts mix (iKone,

Hat ! nou the day dauis,
The jolie cok crauis ;
Now shrouds the shauis,
Throu natur anon.
The thissel-cok cry is
On lovers vha lyis,
Nou skaills the skyis ;
The nicht is neir gone.

The feilds our flouis
With gouans that grouis,
Quhair lilies lik lou is,
Als rid as the rone.

H&>

THE NICHT IS NEIR GONE.

The turtill that treu is,
With nots that reneuis,
Hir pairtie perseuis ;
The nicht is neir gone.

Nou hairts vith hynds
Conforme to thair kynds,
Hie tursis thair tynds,
On grund vhair they grone,
Nou hurchonis vith hairs
Ay passes in pairs,
Quilk deuly declares
The nicht is neir gone.

The sesone excellis,
Thrugh sueetnes that smellis ;
Nou cupid compellis
Our hairts echone :
On vinds vha vaiks,
To muse on our maiks,
Syn sing for thair saiks
The nicht is neir gone.

All curageous knichtis
Aganis the day dichtis
The breist plate that bricht is,
To fight with thair fone ;
The stared steed stampis,
Throu curage and crampis,
Syn on the land lampis ;
The nicht is neir gone.

The freiks on feildis,
That vicht vapens veildis,
With shyning bricht sheildis
At litan in trone.

TIIE NICHT IS NEIR GONE.

Stiff speirs in reists,
Ouer cursors crists,
Ar brok on thair breists ;
The nicht is neir gone.

So hard are thair hittis,
Some sueyes, some settis,
And some perforce flittis
On grund vhill they grone.
Syn grooms that gay is
On blanks that brayis,
With suords assayis,
The nicht is neir gone.

These verses — the earliest known to the air oiHey tutti, tutti, or Bruce 's
Address — are thought to be the composition of Alexander Montgomerie,
author of The Cherrie and theSlae. Montgomerie is one of the most de-
servedly famed of our early Scottish poets. Unfortunately, few particulars
of his life have been preserved. Though he enj oyed a high degree of reputa-
tion in his own day, and though his genius must have contributed greatly
to the refinement of the age in which he lived, no contemporary pen, so far
as we are aware, has recorded a single biographical incident in his eventful
career. All that is known of him has been gleaned from casual documents.
His identity was even doubted, and tradition has assigned more than one
locality as the scene of his musings. The fact of his being an off-shoot of
the noble family of Eglintoun, however, may be regarded as beyond cavil.
In Timothy Ponfs " Topography of Cunninghame" — written early in the
seventeenth century — the place of his birth is thus clearly indicated : —
" Hasilhead Castle, a stronge old building, environed with large ditches,
seated on a loche, veil planted and commodiously beautified : the heritage
of Robert Montgomery, laird thereof. Fawmes it is for ye birth of yat
renounet poet Alexander Montgomery ." Testimony is also borne to his
identity by his nephew, Sir William Mure of Rowallan, whose mother,
Elizabeth, was a sister of the Poet. In an address to Charles I., then
Prince of Wales, Sir William says —

" Matchless Montgomery, in his native tongue,

THE NICIIT IS NEIR GONE.

In former times to that great sire hath sung ;

And often ravish 'cl his harmonious ear,

With strains fit only for a Prince to hear.

My Muse, which nought doth challenge worthy fame,

Save from Montgomery she her birth doth claim —

(Although his Phoenix ashes have sent forth

Pan for Apollo, if compared in worth) —

Pretendeth little to supply his place,

By right hereditar to serve thy grace."
Here we have the most satisfactory evidence of the Poet's relationship.
His father, Hugh Montgomerie of Hazlehead, parish of Beith — one of those
lesser Barons of Ayrshire mentioned in Keith's History as having sub-
scribed the famous Band in 1562 for the support of the Reformed religion
— was the fourth in direct descent from Alexander, " Master of Eglin-
toune." The Poet was the second son. His elder brother, Robert, in-
herited the property, to which he succeeded in 1602. He had another
brother, Ezekeil, who became possessed of Westlands, in the parish of Kil-
barchan, which he purchased from his relative Lord Sempill — besides two
sisters, Margaret and Elizabeth, the latter of whom married Sir William
Mure of Rowallan, father of the Sir William Mure already alluded to.
The year of Montgomerie's birth is not precisely known. He has him-
self, however, recorded the day on which he first saw the light —
" Quhy wes my mother blyth when I wes borne ?

Quhy heght the weirds my weilfair to advance ?

Quhy wes my birth on Eister day at morne ?

Quhy did Apollo then appeir to dance ?

Quhy gaiv he me good morow with a glance !
Quhy leugh he in his golden chair and lap,
Since that the Hevins are hinderers of my hap ?"

From collateral circumstances, however, it may be inferred that he was
born about the year 1546. Of the early habits and education of Mont-

\ gomerie the world is equally ignorant. It has been supposed that he was

\ brought up, or had spent at least a portion of his youth, in Argyleshire.

\ Hume of Pol wart, in one of the fly ting epistles which ensued between

\ them, alludes to the Poet's having passed

" Into Argyle some lair to leir ;"
and Dempster, apparently corroborative of the facts, remarks that he was
usually designated eques Montanus — a phrase synonymous with " Highland

trooper." Of his personal appearance, all that we know is from his own
pen. Reasoning with his " maistres," he says —

" Howbeit zour beuty far and breid be blaune,

I thank my God, I shame not of my shap;
If ze be guid, the better is zour auin,

And he that getis zou, hes the better hap."

Again —

" Zit I am not so covetous of kynd, *

Bot I prefer my plesur in a pairt ;
Though I be laich, I beir a michtie mynd ;

I count me rich, can 1 content my hairt."

That the Poet had been in the military service of his country at some
period or other, is presumable from the prefix of Captain being generally
associated with his name. He is well known, at all events, to have been
attached to the Court both during the Regency of Morton, and for some
time after the assumption of power by James VI. A pension of five
hundred marks,* payable from the rents of the Archbishopric of Glasgow,
was granted to him in 1583 ; and in 1586 he set out on a tour of the Con-
tinent, having obtained the royal license of absence for a period of five
years. No memorials of his travels remain, farther than it appears from
an entry in the Register of the Privy Seal, that while abroad his pension
had been surreptitiously withheld, and he was thrown into prison, " to his
I great hurt, hinder, and prejudice." The grant, in consequence of a me-
t morial from the Poet, was renewed and confirmed in 1589 : but it seems
[ to have occasioned a protracted law-suit to enfore payment of the sums
\ due to him. Of this his " Sonnets," preserved by Drummond of Haw-
j thornden, afford abundant evidence ; and he hesitates not to accuse the
I Lords of Session of a perversion of justice. Like most courtiers, Mont-
| gomerie had experienced the fickleness of fortune, at best capricious, but
I proverbially so when dependent on the smiles of royalty. The precise date
| of Montgomerie's death is as uncertain as his birth. There is good reason,
) however, for believing that his demise did not occur until between 1605
I and 1615.

£333, 6s. 8d. sterling.

LOUDOUN CASTLE.

v>;>

Houtowr Ototle,

It fell about the Martinmas time,
When the wind blew snell and cauld,
That Adam o' Gordon said to his men,
When will we get a hold.

See not where yonder fair castle
Stands on yon lily lee ;
The laird and I hae a deadly feud,
The lady fain would I see.

As she was up on the househead,
Behold on looking down
She saw Adam o' Gordon and his men
Coming riding to the town.

The dinner was not well set down,
Nor the grace was scarcely said,
Till Adam o' Gordon and his men
About the walls were laid.

It's fause now fa thee, Jock my man,
Thou might a' let me be ;
Yon man has lifted the pavement stone,
An' let in the loun to me.

Seven years I served thee, fair ladie,
You gave me meat and fee ;
But now I am Adam o' Gordon's man,
An* maun either do it or die.

Come down, come down, my lady Loudoun,
Come down thou unto me ;
I'll wrap thee on a feather bed,
Thy warrand I shall be.

LOUDOUN CASTLE.

I'll no come down, I'll no come down,
For neither laird nor loun,
Nor yet for any bloody butcher
That lives in Altringham town.

I would give the black, she says,
And so would I the brown,
If that Thomas, my only son,
Could charge to me a gun.

Out then spake the lady Margaret,
As she stood on the stair,
The fire was at her goud garters,
The lowe was at her hair.

I would give the black, she says,
And so would I the brown,
For a drink of yon water,
That rins by Galston Town.

Out then spake fair Anne,
She was baith jimp and sma',
O row me in a pair o* sheets,
And tow me down the wa\

O hold thy tongue, thou fair Anne,
And let thy talkin' be,
For thou must stay in this fair castle,
And bear thy death with me.

O mother, spoke the Lord Thomas,
As he sat on the nurses knee ;

0 mother, give up this fair castle,
Or the reek will worrie me.

1 would rather be burnt to ashes sma',
And be cast on yon sea foam,

Before I'd give up this fair castle,
And my lord so far from home.

My good lord has an army strong,
He's now gone o'er the sea ;
He bade me keep this gay castle
As long as it would keep me.

I've four-and-twenty brave milk kye
Gangs on yon lily lee,
I'd give them a' for a blast of wind,
To blaw the reek from me.

O pitie on yon fair castle,
That's built with stone and lime,
But far mair pitie on lady Loudoun,
And all her children nine.

The writer of the Statistical Account of the parish of Loudoun, in quot-
ing the foregoing ballad, states that the old castle of that name is supposed
to have been destroyed by fire, about 350 years ago. " The current tra- I
dition," he adds, " ascribes that event to the Clan Kennedy ; and the re-
mains of an old tower, at Auchruglen, on the Galston side of the valley, is \
still pointed out as having been their residence." The balled assigns the \
foray to a different party, and a more recent period. The same ballad has i
been published as recording the destruction of Cowie Castle, in the north
of Scotland ; but it is well known that the wandering minstrels of a for- \
mer age were in the habit of changing the names of persons and places i
to suit particular circumstances. It is, therefore, difficult to say which of [
the sets is the original. As the ballad, however, as given in the Statistical |
Account, has been familiar to the peasantry of the district of Loudoun \
from time immemorial, and considering the local event to which it alludes, 5
it has assuredly every claim to a place among the Ballads and Songs j
of Ayrshire. \

SANG ON THE LADY MARGARET MONTGOMERY.

Sang on tf)e Hatrg iftatflatet fftontgomroe,

Luifaris leive of to loif so hie
Your ladies ; and thame styel no mair
But peir, the eirthlie A per se,
And flour of feminine maist fair :
Sen thair is ane without compair,
Sic tytillis in your fangs deleit ;
And prais the pereles (pearl) preclair,
Montgomrie maikles Margareit.

Quhose port, and pereles pulchritude,
Fair forme, and face angelicall,
Sua meik, and full of mansuetude,
With vertew supernaturall ;
Makdome, and proper memhers all,
Sa perfyte, and with joy repleit,
Pruifs her, but peir or peregall,
Of maids the maikles Margareit.

Sa wyse in youth, and verteous,
Sic ressoun for to rewl the rest,
As in greit age wer marvelous.
Sua manerlie, myld, and modest ,
Sa grave, sa gracious, and digest ;
And in all doings sa discreit ;
The maist bening, and boniest,
Mirrour of madins Margareit.

Pigmaleon, that ane portratour,
Be painting craft, did sa decoir,
Himself thairwith in paramour
Fell suddenlie ; and smert thairfoir.
Wer he alyve, he wad deploir
His folie ; and his love forleit,

SANG ON THE LADY MARGARET MONTGOMERIE.

This fairer patrane to adoir,
Of maids the maikles Margareit.

Or had this nymphe bene in these dayis
Quhen Paris judgit in Helicon,
Venus had not obtenit sic prayis.
Scbo, and the goddessis ilk one,
Wald have prefert this paragon,
As marrowit, but matche, most meit
The goldin ball to bruik alone ;
Marveling in this Margareit.

Quhose nobill birth, and royal bluid,
Hir better nature dois exceid.
Hir native giftes, and graces gud,
Sua bonteouslie declair indeid
As waill, and wit of womanheid,
That sa with vertew dois ourfleit.
Happie is he that sail posseid
In marriage this Margareit !

Help, and graunt hap, gud Hemene !
Lat not thy pairt in hir inlaik.
Nor lat not dolful destanie,
Mishap, or fortoun, work hir wraik.
Grant lyik unto hirself ane maik !
That will hir honour, luif, and treit ;
And I sail serve him for hir saik.
Fairweill, my Maistres Margareit.

A. M.

This " Sang" — as the initials bear — is another of the compositions of
Alexander Montgomerie, author of The Cherrie and the Slae. The
" Lady Margaret Montgomerie," whose beauty he celebrates, was the
daughter of Hugh, third Earl of Eglintoun. She was acknowledged to
be the " fairest of the fair " of her time. Montgomerie wrote various

MY AIN FIRESIDE.

other verses besides the " Sang" in praise of his matchless relative. One
of his sonnets is entitled —

" To The for Me
Suete Nichtingale ! in holme green that hants,
To sport thyself, and speciall in the spring," &c.

And, in a poem on the same lady, he thus apostrophises Nature —

" Ye hevins abone, with heavenlie ornaments,
Extend your courtins of the cristall air !
To asuir colour turn your elements,
And soft this season, quhilk lies bene schairp and sair.
Command the cluds that they dissolve na mair ;
Nor us molest with mistie vapours weit.
For now scho cums, the fairest of all fair,
The mundane mirrour maikles Margareit."

Lady Margaret Montgomerie married, in 1582, Robert, first Earl of Win-
ton.

I ha'e seen great anes, and sat in great ha's,
'Mong lords and 'mong ladies a' cover'd wi' braws ;
At feasts made for princes, wi' princes I've been,
Whare the grand shine o' splendour has dazzled my een ;
But a sight sae delightfu' I trow, I ne'er spied,
As the bonnie blythe blink o' my ain fireside.
My ain fireside, my ain fireside,

0 cheery's the blink o' mine ain fireside.

My ain fireside, my ain fireside,

O sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside.

A nee mair, gude be prais'd, round my ain heartsome ingle,
Wi' the friends o' my youth I cordially mingle ;
Nae forms to compel me to seem wae or glad,

1 may laugh when I'm merry, and sigh when I'm sad.

MY AIN FIRESIDE.

Nae falsehood to dread, and nae malice to fear,

But truth to delight me, and friendship to cheer ;

Of a' roads to happiness ever were tried,

There's nane half so sure as ane's ain fireside.
My ain fireside, my ain fireside,
O there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside.

When I draw in my stool on my cosey hearthstane,
My heart loups sae light I scarce ken't for my ain ;
Care's down on the wind, it is clean out o' sight,
Past troubles they seem but as dreams of the night.
I hear but kend voices, kend faces I see,
And mark saft affection glent fond frae ilk e'e ;
Nae fleetchings o' flattery, nae boastings of pride, '
'Tis heart speaks to heart at ane's ain fireside.

My ain fireside, my ain fireside,

O there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside.

" My Ain Fireside" — which has long been a favourite, and is to be found
I in almost every collection of songs — was written by William Hamilton of
\ Gilbertfield. His name is less familiar to the reader of Scottish poetry

< than we think it ought to be. True, the effusions of his muse that have
j been preserved, are not so numerous as to entitle him to prominency

amongst the versifiers of his country ; but, from the few pieces known to
j have emanated from his pen, it cannot be denied that he possessed a con-
\ siderable vein of poesy. Scanty, however, as are his writings, the parti-
\ culars of his long, and for some time active life, are still more limited. His
\ ancestors, a branch of the ducal family of Hamilton, owned the lands of
\ Ardoch, near Kilwinning, from an early period. Andro Hamilton, third
\ son of Robert, fifth laird of Torrance, obtained a charter of them from the
I Abbot of Kilwinning. He was also, by royal charter — 15th July, 1543
\ — appointed " Principal Porter and Master of Entrie to our Soveraine

< Lady, and her Governor of all her Palaces, Castles," and other strongholds,
during life. Captain William Hamilton, father of the Poet, acquired the
property of Ladyland, near Kilwinning, about the middle of the seven-
teenth century. Shortly afterwards, he "biggit a new house, of twa

MY AIN FIRESIDE.

stories, with sklates," in lieu of the old castle of Ladyland, which he de-
molished ; and which had been the residence of Hew Barclay, who, enter-
ing into a conspiracy to overturn the Protestant religion in Britain, and
having taken possession of Ailsa Craig, about 1593 or 1597, as a prelim-
inary step towards effecting his object, rushed from the rock into the sea
and was drowned, rather than allow himself to be captured. A portion
of the " new house" — now the old mansion — still remains, bearing the
name of the proprietor, with the date, 1669. Captain Hamilton was one
of those who refused the Test Act in 1684, and was in consequence dis-
armed. He fell in action against the French, during the wars of King
William. He married, in 1662, Janet, daughter of John Brisbane of that
Ilk, by whom he left two sons, John, his heir, and William, the subject of
our brief memoir. The precise date of either of their births is not known.
It is presumable, however, that the latter was born sometime between
1665 and 1670. He entered the army early in life, and served many years
abroad. He rose, however, no higher than the rank of Lieutenant, which
commission he held " honourably in my Lord Hyndford's regiment." On
retiring on half-pay, he resided at Gilbertfield, in the parish of Cambus-
lang. Whether the property was his own does not appear. His being
styled "of Gilbertfield" would imply that it did belong to him, though it
may have been adopted merely in contradistinction to Hamilton of Ban-
gour, who was a contemporary. " His time," says a writer in the " Lives
of Eminent Scotsmen,"* " was now divided between the sports of the field,
the cultivation of several valued friendships with men of genius and taste,
and the occasional productions of some effusions of his own, in which the
gentleman and the poet were alike conspicuous. His intimacy with the
author of the Gentle Shepherd, three of his epistles to whom are to be
found in the common editions of Ramsay's works, commenced in an ad-
miration, on Ramsay's part, of some pieces which had found their way into
circulation from Hamilton's pen." This was not the case. At all events
the correspondence began with Hamilton. These familiar epistles, as they
are termed, are highly creditable to the poetical talent of both parties ; yet,
without depreciating the merit of Ramsay, we think the superiority may

* 18mo., London, 1822.
81

THE PRAIS OF AIGE.

be justly awarded to the Ayrshire poet. His verses are characterised by
an easy flow of composition not possessed by those of Auld Reekie's much-
famed bard. The correspondence took place in 1719. It would ap-
pear that to the few and now almost forgotten productions of Hamil-
ton, who was the senior of Ramsay by at least sixteen or twenty years,
we owe the poetical emulation of the author of the Gentle Shepherd.
From Gilbertfield, the Poet, towards the close of his days, removed to
Latterick, in Lanarkshire, where he died " at a very advanced age," on
the 24th May, 1751. He married a lady of his own name — probably a
relation — by whom, it appears from the parish records of Kilbirnie, he
had a daughter baptised Anna on the 16th of June, 1693, so that he must
have entered the matrimonial state at an early period of life. Whether
he left any issue is unknown. The Hamiltons of Ladyland, however,
are not without descendants. The brother of the Poet, having sold the

j property to the ninth Earl of Eglintoun, about 1712, proceeded to the
north of Ireland, where he purchased an estate, which was subsequently
disposed of by his son and heir, William, who, returning to Scotland in
1744, bought the lands of Craighlaw, in Galloway. The lineal representa-
tive of the family, William Hamilton of Craighlaw, is, or was lately, an

\ officer in the 10th Hussars. He was one of the protestors against the
Veto Act of the General Assembly in 1839.

€f)$ Irate of Et'se.

At matyne houre, in midis of the nicht,
Walkeit of sleip, I saw besyd me sone,
Ane aigit man, seimit sextie yeiris be sicht,
This sentence sett, and song it in gud tone :
O thryn-fold, and eterne God in trone !
To be content and lufe the I haif caus,
That my licht yowtheid is our past and done ;
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis*

THE PRAIS OF AIGE.

Grene yowth, to aige thow mon obey and bow,
Thy fulis lust lestis skant ane May ;
That than wes witt, is naturall foly now,
Warldy witt, honor, riches, or fresehe array :
Deffy the devill, dreid deid and domisday,
For all sail be accusit, as thow knawis ;
Blessit be God, my yowtheid is away ;
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis,

O bittir yowth ! that semit delicious ;

O swetest aige ! that sumtyme semit soure ;

O rekles yowth ! hie, hait, and vicious ;

O haly aige ! fulfillit with honoure ;

O flowand yowth ! fruitles and fedand flour,

Contrair to conscience, leyth to luf gud lawis,

Of all vane gloir the lanthorne and mirroure ;

Honor with aige till every vertew drawis.

This warld is sett for to dissaive us evin ;
Pryde is the nett, and covetece is the trane ;
For na reward, except the joy of hevin,
Wald I be yung into this warld agane.
The schip of fayth, tempestous winds and rane
Of Lollerdry, dryvand in the sey hir blawis ;
My youth is gane, and I am glaid and fane,
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis.

Law, luve, and lawtie, gravin law thay ly ;
Dissimulance lies borrowit conscience clayis ;
Writ, wax, and selis ar no wayis set by ;
Flattery is fosterit baith with friends and fayis.
The sone, to bruik it that his fader hais,
Wald se him deid ; Sathanas sic seid savvis :
Yowtheid, adew, ane of my mortall fais,
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis.

The " Prais of Aige" is by Walter Kennedy, who, though few of his^

writings are extant, seems to have occupied a prominent place among the
earlier poets of Scotland. He is spoken of both by Douglas and Lindsay
as an eminent contemporary. The former, in his " Court of the Muses,"
styles him " The Greit Kennedie." He is now chiefly known, however,
by his Flyting with Dunbar; which was published so early as 1508, and
became very popular. This was a species of poetical amusement frequently
i indulged in both before and after his time. At a much later period, the
I practice continued amongst the Highland Bards, and gave rise occasionally
to no small local irritation. It must have been, at best, a dangerous pas-
time. The great object was to excel in ribaldry ; and he who could say
the most biting and derogatory things of his opponent, carried away the
palm of victory. The "Flyting between Dunbar and Kennedie" affords
a favourable specimen of the railing powers of both : indeed, it would be
difficult to determine on which side the mastery lies. The language,
however, is in many instances, too gross for modern ears. A single verse
from each may serve as a specimen. The orthography is somewhat
modernised : —

(Dunbab to Kennedy.)

Thou speirs, dastard, if I dare with thee fecht ?

Ye dagone, dowbart, thereof have thou no doubt ?
Wherever we meet thereto my hand I hecht

To red thy ribbald rhymings with a route ;
Through all Britain it shall be blawn out,

How that thou, poisoned pelour,* gat thy paiks ;
With ane dog-leech I shape to gar thee shout,

And neither to thee take knife, sword, nor ax !

^ (Kennedy to Dunbab.)

Insensate sow, cease false Eustace air !

And knaw, keen scald, I hald of Alathia,
And cause me not the cause lang to declare

Of thy curst kin, Deulbeir and his Allia ;

Come to the cross on knees, and mak a cria ;
Confess thy crime, hald Kennedy thy king,
And with a hawthorn scourge thyself and ding ;

Thus dree thy penance with < Deliquisti quia.'

* Thief.

It is rather surprising that either Lord Hailes or Dr Irving, in comment- j
ing on the " Flying," should have had the slightest doubt as to the real
character of the " war of words" between the Poets. Such invective in
an age, and amongst a people by no means deficient of honour, could not
have been exercised, unless as good-natured banter, without leading to
serious consequences — neither Dunbar nor Kennedy being persons of mean
estate. So far from umbrage existing between them, Dunbar, in his
" Lament for the Makars," thus feelingly alludes to the dangerous state of
Kennedy's health : —

" And Mr Walter Kennedie
In pynt of dede lies wearily,
Grit reuth it were that so should be,
Timor mortis conturbat me."

The egotism of Kennedy, when he lauds himself as " of Rhetory the Rose,"
and as having been

" Inspirit with Mercury fra his golden spheir,"

would be perfectly intolerable, were not the Flyting understood as a bur-

I lesque. From the allusions to Carrick by Dunbar in the Flyting, there

\ can be no doubt that Kennedy belonged to that part of Ayrshire. Be-

| yond this fact, however, and that he was the third son of Gilbert, first

I Baron Kennedy, very little is known of his history. Mr David Laing, to

| whom the literary world is greatly indebted for his valuable edition of

\ Dunbar's poems,* and who has gleaned all that is likely to be ever ascer-

I tained regarding Kennedy, conceives that he must have been born " be-

l fore the year 1460." He was educated for the Church, and studied at

J the University of Glasgow, where he took the degree of Master of Arts in

I 1478, and was " elected one of the four masters to exercise the office of

\ examinator in 1481." Mr Laing is of opinion that the Flyting was writ-

j ten between the years 1492 and 1497. If so, it is evident, both from the

^ allusions of Dunbar and Kennedy himself, that the latter resided at the

! time in Carrick, where he seems, from an action brought before the Lords

I of Council, to have filled the situation of Depute-Bailie of Carrick, under

* The Poems of William Dunbar, now first collected. With notes, and a memoir
of his life. By David Laing. Edinburgh, 1813.

his nephew, David, afterwards Earl of Cassillis, to whom the office of
\ heritable Bailie of that district was ratified by charter in 1489. It is to
\ this the poet no doubt alludes when he says, in answer to Dunbar —
" I am the Kingis blude, his trew speciall clerk." »

i His claim to royal blood was equally well founded — his grandfather, Sir
James Kennedy of Dunure, having married Lady Mary Stewart, daugh-
\ ter of Robert III. Prior to becoming Depute-Bailie of Carrick, Ken-
\ nedy was not unknown at Court, and had travelled on the Continent. He
\ appears to have been an expectant of Church preferment. Speaking of
James the Fourth, he says —

" Trusting to have of his magnificence,
Guerdon, reward, and benefice dedene."

Mr Laing thinks it probable that he was appointed Provost of Maybole,
on the death of Sir David Robertson, about 1794 — the patronage of the
collegiate church in that town, which was founded by Sir James Kennedy
of Dunure, in 1371, still continuing in the family. The period of Ken-

\ nedy's demise is quite uncertain. He was alive, though at the "pynt of

\ dede," when Dunbar penned his "Lament for the Makars," about 1508 ;

\ and he is spoken of by Lyndsay in 1530, as if he had been dead for a con-

i siderable time —

" Or quha can now the warkis countrefait,
Off Kennedie, with terms aureait."

i The inference is that he did not survive the illness alluded to by Dunbar.
It is rather curious that so few of the poems of Kennedy are extant. Be-

\ sides the Flyting, there are only some four or five pieces known to exist.

| These are " The Prais of Aige," U Ane Aigit Man's Invective," " Ane

\ Ballat of Our Lady," « Pious Counsale," and " The Passioun of Christ,"
the latter of which, preserved in the Howard MSS., extends to 245 stan-
zas, of 1715 lines. Mr Laing describes it as either presenting a " dry sum-
mary of the chief events of our Saviour's life and sufferings, or tedious
episodical reflections, appropriate to the different hours of the Romish
Church service." The most favourable specimen of his poetical talent
which survives is unquestionably the song in " Prais of Aige." From the
fame of Kennedy amongst his contemporaries, it is evident that the greater

KELL YBURNBR AES .

portion of his writings have been lost. His attachment to the old faith,

which he describes in the foregoing verses as a ship driving in the tem- {

pestous sea of Lollerdry, the principles of the Reformation having then be- \

gun to be keenly agitated in Scotland, may in some measure account for I

their disappearance. It is not improbable that his MSS. perished along \

with many other valuable works belonging to the collegiate church of \

Maybole. Unlike most of the Makars of the time, Kennedy was a staunch <

adherent of Catholicity. The popularity of most of his contemporaries, \
on the other hand, was greatly promoted by their satirical exposure of the
abuses of Popery.

There lived a carle on Kellyburnbraes :

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme ;)

And he had a wife was the plague of his days ;