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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

James  J.  McBride 

PRESENTED  BY 

Margaret  McBride 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


A  POEM. 


IN    SIX    CANTOS. 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE- 


A  POEM. 


BY 


WALTER  SCOTT,  Esq. 


THE   EIGHTH   EDITION. 


EDINBURGH : 


PRINTED  FOR 

JOHN  BALLANTYNE  AND  CO.  EDINBURGH  ; 

AND 

LONGMAN,  HURST,  REES,   OKME,  AND  BROWN,  AND 

W.  MILLER,  LONDON; 

By  James  Ballantyne  and  Co.  Edinburgh. 

1810. 


TO 


THE  MOST  NOBLE 


JOHN  JAMES, 

MARQUIS  OF  ABERCORN, 

4rc.  4^.  &;c. 

THIS  POEM  IS  INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


ind!22'1S 


ARGUMENT. 


The  Scene  of  the  following  Poem  is  laid  chiefly  in  tJie 
vicinity  of  Loch-Katrine,  in  the  Western  Highlands 
of  Perthshire.  The  Time  of  Action  includes  Six 
Days,  and  the  transactions  of  each  day  occupy  a 
Canto. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE, 

Canto   I.  The  Chase  . . , i 

II.  The  Island : 45 

III.  The  Gathering 95 

rv.  The  Prophecy I4i 

V.  The  Combat 189 

VI.  The  Guard-Room 241 


Notes  to  Canto    I ; 295 

Canto  II 309 

Canto  III 3SS 

Canto  TV ses 

Canto  V 399 

Canto  VI , 419 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE, 


CANTO  FIRST 


%^t  C8a0e» 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  FIRST. 


'Ef)t  Cfjagu 


xl  ARP  of  the  North  !  that  mouldering  long  hast  hung 

On  the  witch-elm  that  shades  Saint  Fillan's  spring, 
And  down  the  fitful  breeze  thy  numbers  flung, 

Till  envious  ivy  did  around  thee  cling, 
Muffling  with  verdant  ringlet  every  string, — 

O  minstrel  Harp,  still  must  thine  accents  sleep  ? 
Mid  rustlinjT  leaves  and  fountains  murmuring. 

Still  nmst  thy  sweeter  sounds  their  silence  keep, 
Nor  bid  a  warrior  smile,  nor  teach  a  maid  to  weep  ? 


4  THE  LADY  01-'  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  I. 

Not  thus,  in  ancient  days  of  Caledon, 

Was  thy  voice  mute  ajnid  the  festal  crowd. 
When  lay  of  hopeless  love,  or  glory  won, 

Aroused  the  fearful,  or  subdued  the  proud. 
At  each  according  pause,  was  heard  aloud 

Thine  ardent  symphony  sublime  and  high  ! 
Fair  dames  and  crested  chiefs  attention  bow'd  ; 

For  still  the  burthen  of  thy  minstrelsy 
Was   Knighthood's  dauntless  deed,    and  Beauty's 
matchless  eye. 

O  wake  once  more  !  how  rude  soe'er  the  hand 

That  ventures  o'er  thy  magic  maze  to  stray  j 
O  wake  once  more  !  though  scarce  my  skill  command 

Some  feeble  echoing  of  thine  earlier  lay  : 
Though  harsh  and  faint,  and  soon  to  die  away,. 

And  all  unworthy  of  thy  nobler  strain. 
Yet  if  one  heart  throb  higher  at  its  sway, 

The  wizard  note  has  not  been  touched  in  vain. 
Then  silent  be  no  more  !  Enchantress,  wake  again  ! 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE. 


I. 

X  HE  Stag  at  eve  had  drunk  his  fili, 

Where  danced  the  moon  on  Monan's  rU], 

And  deep  his  midnight  lair  had  made 

In  lone  Glenartney's  hazel  shade  ; 

But,  when  the  sun  his  beacon  red 

Had  kindled  on  Benvoirlich's  head, 

The  deep-mouthed  blood-hound's  heavy  bay 

Resounded  up  the  rocky  way. 

And  faint,  from  farther  distance  borne. 

Were  heard  the  clanging  hoof  and  horn. 

II. 

As  chief  who  hears  his  warder  call, 

*'  To  arms  !  the  foemen  storm  the  wall,'' 


6  THE  LADY  Of  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  I. 

The  antler*d  monarch  of  the  waste 

Sprung  fi'oni  his  heathery  couch  in  haste. 

But,  ere  his  fleet  career  he  took, 

The  dew-drops  from  his  flanks  he  shook  ; 

Like  crested  leader  proud  and  high, 

Tossed  his  beamed  frontlet  to  the  sky  ; 

A  moment  gazed  adown  the  dale, 

A  moment  snuffed  the  tainted  gale, 

A  moment  listen'd  to  the  cry, 

That  thickened  as  the  chace  drew  nigh  ; 

Then,  as  the  headmost  foes  appeared, 

With  one  brave  bound  the  copse  he  cleared. 

And,  stretching  forward  free  and  far. 

Sought  the  wild  heaths  of  Uam-Var. 

III. 

Yelled  on  the  view  the  opening  pack, 

Rock  glen  and  cavern  paid  them  back  ; 

To  many  a  mingled  sound  at  once 

The  awakened  mountain  gave  response. 
0 


iJ 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE. 

An  hundred  dogs  bayed  deep  and  strong, 
Clattered  an  hundred  steeds  along, 
Their  peal  the  merry  horns  rung  out, 
An  hundred  voices  joined  the  shout ; 
With  hark  and  whoop  and  wild  halloo, 
No  rest  Benvoirlich's  echoes  knew. 
Far  from  the  tumult  fled  the  roe, 
Close  in  her  covert  cowered  the  doe, 
The  falcon,  from  her  cairn  on  high, 
Cast  on  the  rout  a  wondering  ^ye, 
Till  far  beyond  her  piercing  ken 
The  hurricane  had  swept  the  glen. 
Faint,  and  more  faint,  its  failing  din 
Returned  from  cavern,  cliff,  and  Hnn, 
And  silence  settled,  wide  and  still, 
On  the  lone  wood  and  mighty  hill. 

IV. 

Less  loud  the  sounds  of  sylvan  war 
Disturbed  the  heights  of  Uam-Var, 


8  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  T. 

And  roused  the  cavem,  where  'tis  told 
A  ffiant  made  his  den  of  old  j 
For  ere  that  steep  ascent  was  won, 
High  in  his  path-way  hung  the  sun, 
And  many  a  gallant,  stayed  per-force. 
Was  fain  to  breathe  his  faultering  horse  ; 
And  of  the  trackers  of  the  deer 
Scarce  half  the  lessening  pack  was  near  ; 
So  shrewdly,  on  the  mountain  side. 
Had  the  bold  burst  their  mettle  tried. 

V. 

The  noble  Stag  was  pausing  now. 
Upon  the  mountain's  southern  brow, 
Where  broad  extended,  far  beneath. 
The  varied  realms  of  fair  Menteith. 
With  anxious  eye  he  wander'd  o'er 
Mountain  and  meadow,  moss  and  moor, 
And  pondered  refuge  from  his  toil. 
By  far  Lochard  or  Aberfoyle- 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE. 

But  nearer  was  the  copse-wood  gray, 
That  waved  and  wept  on  Loch-Achray, 
And  mingled  with  the  pine-trees  blue 
On  the  bold  cliffs  of  Ben- venue. 
Fresh  vigour  with  the  hope  returned. 
With  flying  foot  the  heath  he  spurned, 
Held  westward  with  unwearied  race, 
And  left  behind  the  panting  chase. 

VI. 

'Twere  long  to  tell  what  steeds  gave  o'er. 
As  swept  the  hunt  through  Cambus-more ; 
What  reins  were  tightened  in  despair. 
When  rose  Benledi's  ridge  in  air  ; 
Who  flagged  upon  Bochastlo's  heath. 
Who  shunned  to  stem  the  flooded  Teith, — 
For  twice,  that  day,  from  shore  to  shore. 
The  gallant  Stag  swam  stoutly  o'er. 
Few  were  the  stragijlcrs,  following  far. 
That  reached  the  lake  of  Vennachar; 


10  THE   LADY  OV  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  I. 

And  when  the  Brigg  of  Turk  was  won, 
The  headmost  Horseman  rode  alone. 

VII. 

Alone,  but  with  unbated  zeal, 

That  horseman  plied  the  scourge  and  steel ; 

For,  jaded  now,  and  spent  with  toil, 

Embossed  with  foam,  and  dark  with  soil, 

While  every  gasp  with  sobs  he  drew, 

The  labouring  Stag  strained  full  in  view. 

Two  dogs  of  black  Saint  Hubert*s  breed. 

Unmatched  for  courage,  breath,  and  speed, 

Fast  on  his  flying  traces  came, 

And  all  but  won  that  desperate  game ; 

For,  scarce  a  spear's  length  from  his  haunch. 

Vindictive  toiled  the  blood-hounds  staunch  ; 

Nor  nearer  might  the  dogs  attain. 

Nor  farther  might  the  quarry  strain. 

Thus  up  the  margin  of  the  lake. 

Between  the  precipice  and  brake. 

O'er  stock  and  rock  their  race  they  take. 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  U 


VIII. 

The  hunter  marked  that  mountain  high, 
The  lone  lake's  western  boundary, 
And  deemed  the  Stag  must  turn  to  bay, 
Where  that  huge  rampart  barred  the  way ; 
Already  glorying  in  the  prize. 
Measured  his  antlers  with  his  eyes  ; 
For  the  death-wound,  and  death-halloo, 
Mustered  his  breath,  his  whinyard  drew ; 
But  thundering  as  he  came  prepared. 
With  ready  arm  and  weapon  bared, 
The  wily  quari-y  shunned  the  shock, 
And  turned  him  from  the  opposing  rock ; 
Then,  dashing  down  a  darksome  glen, 
Soon  lost  to  hound  and  hunter's  ken, 
In  the  deep  Trosach's  wildest  nook 
His  solitary  refuge  took. 
There  while,  close  couched,  the  thicket  shed 
Cold  dews  and  wild  flowers  on  his  head. 


12  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  I. 

He  heard  the  baffled  dogs  in  vain 
Rave  through  the  hollow  pass  amain, 
Chiding  the  rocks  that  yeUed  again. 

IX. 

Close  on  the  hounds  the  hunter  came, 
To  cheer  them  on  the  vanished  game ; 
But,  stumbHng  in  the  rugged  dell, 
The  gallant  horse  exhausted  fell. 
The  impatient  rider  strove  in  vain 
To  rouse  him  with  the  spur  and  rein. 
For  the  good  steed,  his  labours  o'er, 
Stretched  his  stiff  limbs  to  rise  no  more ; 
Then,  touched  with  pity  and  remorse. 
He  sorrowed  o'er  the  expiring  horse. 
"  I  little  thought,  when  first  thy  rein 
I  slacked  upon  the  banks  of  Seine, 
That  highland  eagle  e'er  should  feed 
On  thy  fleet  limbs,  my  matchless  steed  ! 
Woe  worth  the  chase,  woe  worth  the  day. 
That  costs  thyUfe,  my  gallant  grey  !" — 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  13 

X. 

Then  through  the  dell  his  horn  resounds. 
From  vain  pursuit  to  call  the  hounds. 
Back  hmped,  with  slow  and  crippled  pace, 
The  sulky  leaders  of  the  chase  ; 
Close  to  their  master's  side  they  pressed. 
With  drooping  tail  and  humbled  crest ; 
But  still  the  dingle's  hollow  throat 
Prok)nged  the  swelling  bugle-note. 
The  owlets  started  from  their  dream, 
The  eagles  answered  with  their  scream. 
Round  and  around  the  sounds  were  cast, 
Till  echo  seemed  an  answering  blast ; 
And  on  the  hunter  hied  his  way. 
To  join  some  comrades  of  the  day ; 
Yet  often  paused,  so  strange  the  road. 
So  wondrous  were  the  scenes  it  show'd. 


14  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  I. 

XI. 

The  western  waves  of  ebbing  day 
Rolled  o'er  the  glen  their  level  way ; 
Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  spire. 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living:  fire. 
But  not  a  setting  beam  could  glow 
Within  the  dark  ravines  below. 
Where  twined  the  path,  in  shadow  hid, 
Round  many  a  rocky  pyramid. 
Shooting  abruptly  from  the  dell 
Its  thunder-splintered  pinnacle ; 
Round  many  an  insulated  mass. 
The  native  bulwarks  of  the  pass. 
Huge  as  the  tower  which  builders  vain 
Presumptuous  piled  on  Shinar's  plain. 
The  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent, 
Formed  turret,  dome,  or  battlement, 
Or  seemed  fantastically  set 
With  cupola  or  nfinaret, 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  15 

Wild  crests  as  pagod  ever  decked, 

Or  mosque  of  eastern  architect. 

Nor  were  these  earth-born  castles  bare, 

Nor  lacked  they  many  a  banner  fair  ; 

For,  from  their  shivered  brows  displayed, 

Far  o'er  the  unfathomable  glade, 

All  twinkling  with  the  dew-drop  sheen, 

The  briar-rose  fell  in  streamers  green. 

And  creeping  shrubs,  of  thousand  dyes. 

Waved  in  the  west-wind's  summer  sighs. 

XII. 

Boon  nature  scattered,  free  and  wild. 
Each  plant  or  flower,  the  mountain's  child. 
Here  eglantine  embalmed  the  air, 
Hawthorn  and  hazel  mingled  there; 
The  primrose  pale,  and  violet  flower, 
Fomid  in  each  cliif  a  narrow  bower  ; 
Fox-glove  and  night-shade,  side  by  side, 
Emblems  of  punishment  and  pride,  * 


16  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CAN  10  1- 

Grouped  tlieir  dark  hues  with  every  stain, 
The  weather-beaten  crags  retain. 
With  boughs  that  quaked  at  every  breath. 
Grey  birch  and  aspen  wept  beneath  ; 
Aloft,  the  ash  and  warrior  oak 
Cast  anchor  in  the  rifted  rock ; 
And  higher  yet  the  pine-tree  himg 
His  shattered  trunk,  and  frequent  flung. 
Where  seemed  the  cliffs  to  meet  on  high, 
His  boughs  athwart  the  narrowed  sky. 
Highest  of  all,  where  white  peaks  glanced, 
Wliere  glistening  streamers  waved  and  danced, 
The  wanderer's  eye  could  barely  view 
The  summer  heaven's  delicious  blue ; 
So  wondrous  wild,  the  whole  might  seem 
The  scenery  of  a  fairy  dream. 

XIII. 

Onward,  amid  the  copse  'gan  peep 

A  narrow  inlet  still  and  deep, 

9 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  17 

Affording  scarce  such  breadth  of  brim. 
As  served  the  wild-duck*  s  brood  to  swim  ; 
Lost  for  a  space,  through  thickets  veering. 
But  broader  when  again  appearing, 
Tall  rocks  and  tufted  knolls  their  face 
Could  on  the  dark-blue  mirror  trace ; 
And  farther  as  the  hunter  stray'd. 
Still  broader  sweep  its  channels  made. 
The  shaggy  mounds  no  longer  stood. 
Emerging  from  entangled  wood, 
But,  wave-encircled,  seemed  to  float. 
Like  castle  girdled  with  its  moat ; 
Yet  broader  floods  extending  still. 
Divide  them  from  their  parent  hiD, 
Till  each,  retiring,  claims  to  be 
An  islet  in  an  inland  sea. 

XIV. 

And  now,  to  issue  from  the  glen, 

No  pathway  meets  the  wanderer's  ken. 


18  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  I. 

Unless  he  climb,  with  footing  nice, 

A  far  projecting  precipice. 

The  broom's  tough  roots  his  ladder  made, 

The  hazel  saplings  lent  their  aid  ; 

And  thus  an  airy  point  he  won, 

Where,  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun, 

One  burnish'd  sheet  of  living  gold. 

Loch- Katrine  lay  beneath  him  rolled  ; 

In  all  her  length  far  winding  lay, 

With  promontory,  creek,  and  bay. 

And  islands  that,  empurpled  bright, 

Floated  amid  the  livelier  light ; 

And  mountains,  that  like  giants  stand. 

To  centinel  enchanted  land. 

High  on  the  south,  huge  Benvenue 

Down  to  the  lake  in  masses  threw 

Crags,  knolls,  and  mounds,  confusedly  hurled. 

The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world  j 

A  wildering  forest  feathered  o'er 

His  ruined  sides  and  summit  hoar, 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE. 

While  on  the  north,  through  middle  air, 
Ben-an  heaved  high  his  forehead  bare. 

XV. 
From  the  steep  promontory  gazed 
The  Stranger,  raptured  and  amazed. 
And,  "  What  a  scene  were  here,"  he  cried, 
"  For  princely  pomp  or  churchman's  pride  ! 
On  this  bold  brow,  a  lordly  tower  ; 
In  that  soft  vale,  a  lady's  bower ; 
On  yonder  meadow,  far  away, 
The  turrets  of  a  cloister  grey. 
How  blithely  might  the  bugle-horn 
Chide,  on  the  lake,  the  lingering  morn  ! 
How  sweet,  at  eve,  the  lover's  lute 
Chime,  when  the  groves  were  still  and  mute  I 
And,  when  the  midnight  moon  should  lave 
Her  forehead  in  the  silver  wave. 
How  solemn  on  the  ear  would  come 
The  holy  matin's  distant  hum, 

IS 


19 


20         THE  LADT  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  t- 

While  the  deep  peal's  commanding  tone 
Should  wake,  in  yonder  islet  lone, 
A  sainted  hermit  from  his  cell. 
To  drop  a  bead  with  every  knell — 
And  bugle,  lute,  and  bell,  and  all, 
Should  each  bewildered  stranger  call 
To  friendly  feast,  and  lighted  hall. 

XVI. 

**  Blithe  were  it  then  to  wander  here  I 
But  now, — beshrew  yon  nimble  deer, — 
Like  that  same  hermit's,  thin  and  spare. 
The  copse  must  give  my  evening  fare  ; 
Some  mossy  bank  my  couch  must  he,,'' 
Some  rustling  oak  my  canopy- 
Yet  pass  we  that ; — the  war  and  chase 
Give  little  choice  of  resting-place  ; — 
A  summer  night,  in  green-wood  spent, 
Were  but  to-morrow's  merriment  j 
But  hosts  may  in  these  wilds  abound. 
Such  as  are  better  missed  than  found ;. 


eANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  21 

To  meet  with  highland  plunderers  here 

Were  worse  than  loss  of  steed  or  deer. — 

I  am  alone ; — my  bugle  strain 

May  call  some  straggler  of  the  train ; 

Or,  fall  the  worst  that  may  betide, 

Ere  now  this  faulchion  has  been  tried." — 

XVII. 

But  scarce  again  his  horn  he  wound, 
When  lo  !  forth  starting  at  the  sound, 
From  underneath  an  aged  oak, 
That  slanted  from  the  islet  rock, 
A  Damsel  guider  of  its  way, 

* 

A  little  skiff  shot  to  the  bay, 

That  round  the  promontory  steep 

Led  its  deep  line  in  graceful  sweep, 

Eddying,  in  almost  viewless  wave. 

The  weeping  willow  twig  to  lave, 

And  kiss,  with  whispering  sound  and  slow, 

The  beach  of  pebbles  bright  as  snow. 


22  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  I. 

The  boat  had  touch'd  this  silver  strand, 
Just  as  the  Hunter  left  his  stand. 
And  stood  concealed  amid  the  brake, 
To  view  this  Lady  of  the  Lake. 
The  maiden  paused,  as  if  again 
She  thought  to  catch  the  distant  strain. 
With  head  up-raised,  and  look  intent. 
And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent. 
And  Jocks  flung  back,  and  lips  apart. 
Like  monument  of  Grecian  art. 
In  listening  mood,  she  seemed  to  stand 
The  guardian  Naiad  of  the  strand. 

XVIIL 

And  ne'er  did  Grecian  chizzel  trace 

A  Nymph,  a  Naiad,  or  a  Grace, 

Of  finer  form,  or  lovelier  face  ! 

What  though  the  sun,  with  ardent  frown. 

Had  slightly  tinged  her  cheek  with  brown, — 

The  sportive  toil,  which,  short  and  light. 

Had  dyed  her  glowing  hue  so  bright, 


CANTO  r.  THE  CHASE.  23 

Served  too  in  hastier  swell  to  show 

Short  glimpses  of  a  breast  of  snow  : 

What  though  no  rule  of  courtly  grace 

To  measured  mood  had  trained  her  pace, — 

A  foot  more  hght,  a  step  more  true, 

Ne'er  from  the  heath-flower  dashed  the  dew ; 

E*en  the  slight  hare-bell  raised  its  head, 

Elastic  from  her  airy  tread  : 

What  though  upon  her  speech  there  hung 

The  accents  of  the  mountain  tongue, — 

Those  silver  sounds,  so  soft,  so  dear, 

The  list'ner  held  his  breath  to  hear, 

XIX. 

A  chieftain's  daughter  seemed  the  maid  ; 
Her  sattin  snood,  her  silken  plaid. 
Her  golden  brooch,  such  birth  betray'd. 
And  seldom  was  a  snood  amid 
Such  wild  luxuriant  ringlets  hid, 
Whose  glossy  black  to  shame  might  bring 
The  plumage  of  the  raven's  wing  j 


24  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  I. 

And  seldom  o'er  a  breast  so  fair. 
Mantled  a  plaid  with  modest  care, 
And  never  brooch  the  folds  combined 
Above  a  heart  more  good  and  kind. 
Her  kindness  and  her  worth  to  spy, 
You  need  but  gaze  on  Ellen's  eye  ; 
Not  Katrine,  in  her  mirror  blue. 
Gives  back  the  shaggy  banks  more  true. 
Than  every  free-born  glance  confessed 
The  guileless  movements  of  her  breast ; 
Whether  joy  danced  in  her  dark  eye. 
Or  woe  or  pity  claimed  a  sigh, 
-Or  filial  love  was  glowing  there. 
Or  meek  devotion  poured  a  prayer. 
Or  tale  of  injury  called  forth 
The  indignant  spirit  of  the  north. 
One  only  passion,  unrevealed. 
With  maiden  pride  the  maid  concealed, 
Yet  not  less  purely  felt  the  flame  j — 
O  need  I  teil  that  passion's  name  ! 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE. 

XX. 

Impatient  of  the  silent  horn, 

Now  on  the  gale  her  voice  was  borne  : — 

*'  Father  !"  she  cried ;  the  rocks  around 

Loved  to  prolong  the  gentle  sound. 

A  while  she  paused,  no  answer  came, — 

*'  Malcolm,  was  thine  the  blast  ?"  the  name 

Less  resolutely  uttered  fell. 

The  echoes  could  not  catch  the  swell. 

*'  A  stranger  I,"  the  Huntsman  said, 

Advancino-  from  the  hazel  shade. 

o 

The  maid  alarmed,  with  hasty  oar,' 
Pushed  her  light  shallop  from  the  shore. 
And  when  a  space  was  gained  between, 
Closer  she  drew  her  bosom's  screen  j 
(So  forth  the  startled  swan  would  swing, 
So  turn  to  prune  his  ruffled  wing,) 
Then  safe,  though  fluttered  and  amazed, 
She  paused,  and  on  the  stranger  gazed. 


26  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  I. 

Not  his  the  form,  nor  his  the  eye, 
That  youthful  maidens  wont  to  fly. 

XXI. 

On  his  bold  visage  middle  age 

Had  slightly  pressed  its  signet  sage, 

Yet  had  not  quenched  the  open  truth, 

And  fiery  vehemence  of  youth  ; 

Forward  and  frolic  glee  was  there. 

The  will  to  do,  the  soul  to  dare. 

The  sparkling  glance,  soon  blown  to  fire, 

Of  hasty  love,  or  headlong  ire. 

His  limbs  were  cast  in  manly  mould, 

For  hardy  sports,  or  contest  bold  ; 

And  though  in  peaceful  garb  arrayed, 

And  weaponless,  except  his  blade. 

His  stately  mien,  {is  well  implied 

A  high-born  heart,  a  martial  pride. 

As  if  a  baron's  crest  he  wore. 

And  sheathed  in  armour  trod  the  shore. 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  ^^ 

Slighting  the  petty  need  he  showed, 

He  told  of  his  benighted  road  ; 

His  ready  speech  flowed  fair  and  free, 

In  phrase  of  gentlest  courtesy  ; 

Yet  seemed  that  tone,  and  gesture  bland, 

Less  used  to  sue  than  to  command. 

XXII. 

A  while  the  maid  the  Stranger  eyed, 
And,  reassured,  at  last  replied. 
That  highland  haUs  were  open  still 
To  wildered  wanderers  of  the  hill. 
*'  Nor  think  you  unexpected  come 
To  yon  lone  isle,  our  desert  home  ; 
Before  the  heath  had  lost  the  dew. 
This  morn,  a  couch  was  pulled  for  you ; 
On  yonder  mountain's  purple  head 
Have  ptarmigan  and  heath-cock  bled. 
And  our  broad  nets  have  swept  the  mere. 
To  furnish  forth  your  evening  cheer."— 


28  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  1. 

**  Now,  by  the  rood,  my  lovely  maid, 
Your  courtesy  has  erred,"  he  said  ; 
"  No  right  have  I  to  claim,  misplaced. 
The  welcome  of  expected  guest. 
A  wanderer  here,  by  fortune  tost, 
My  way,  my  friends,  my  courser  lost, 
I  ne'er  before,  believe  me,  fair, 
Have  ever  drawn  your  mountain  air, 
Till  on  this  lake's  romantic  strand, 
I  found  a  fay  in  fairy  land." — 

XXIII. 

"  I  well  believe,"  the  maid  replied, 
As  her  light  skiff  approached  the  side, 
"  I  well  believe,  that  ne'er  before 
Your  foot  has  trod  Loch-Katrine's  shore  ; 
But  yet,  as  far  as  yesternight. 
Old  AUan-bane  foretold  your  plight, — 
A  gre3'^-haired  sire,  whose  eye  intent 
Was  on  the  visioncd  future  bent. 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  29 

He  saw  your  steed,  a  dappled  grey, 

Lie  dead  beneath  the  birchen  way  ; 

Painted  exact  your  form  and  mien. 

Your  hunting  suit  of  Lincohi  green, 

That  tassell'd  horn  so  gaily  gilt. 

That  faulchion's  crooked  blade  and  hilt, 

That  cap  with  heron's  plumage  trim, 

And  yon  two  hounds  so  dark  and  grim. 

He  bade  that  all  should  ready  be. 

To  grace  a  guest  of  fair  degree  ; 

But  light  I  held  his  prophecy. 

And  deemed  it  was  my  father's  horn. 

Whose  echoes  o'er  the  lake  were  borne." — 

XXIV. 

The  Stranger  smiled  : — **  Since  to  your  home, 
A  destined  errant  knight  I  come, 
Announced  by  prophet  sooth  and  old, 
Doomed,  doubtless,  for  achievement  bold, 
I'll  lightly  front  each  high  emprize, 
For  one  kind  glance  of  those  bright  eyes ; 


30  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  r. 

Permit  me,  first,  the  task  to  guide 

Your  fairy  frigate  o'er  the  tide." — 

The  maid,  with  smile  suppressed  and  sly, 

The  toil  unwonted  saw  him  try  ; 

For  seldom,  sure,  if  e'er  before. 

His  noble  hand  had  grasped  an  oar : 

Yet  with  main  strength  his  strokes  he  drew, 

And  o'er  the  lake  the  shallop  flew ; 

With  heads  erect,  and  whimpering  cry, 

The  hounds  behind  their  passage  ply. 

Nor  frequent  does  the  bright  oar  break 

The  darkening  mirror  of  the  lake, 

Until  the  rocky  isle  they  reach, 

And  moor  their  shallop  on  the  beach. 

XXV. 

The  Stranger  viewed  the  shore  around  j 
'Twas  all  so  close  with  copse- wood  bound, 
Nor  track  nor  path-way  might  declare 
*rhat  human  foot  frequented  there, 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  51 

Until  the  mountain-maiden  showed 
A  clambering  unsuspected  road, 
That  winded  through  the  tangled  screen, 
And  opened  on  a  narrow  green. 
Where  weeping  birch  and  willow  round 
With  their  long  fibres  swept  the  ground  j 
Here,  for  reti'eat  in  dangerous  hour. 
Some  chief  had  framed  a  rustic  bower. 

XXVI. 

It  was  a  lodge  of  ample  size, 

But  strange  of  structure  and  device  ; 

Of  such  materials,  as  around 

The  workman's  hand  had  readiest  found. 

Lopped  of  their  boughs,  their  hoar  trunks  bared, 

And  by  the  hatchet  rudely  squared. 

To  give  the  walls  their  destined  height. 

The  sturdy  oak  and  ash  unite  ; 

While  moss  and  clay  and  leaves  combined 

To  fence  each  crevice  from  the  wind. 


32         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  I. 

The  lighter  pine-trees,  over-head, 

Their  slender  length  for  rafters  spread. 

And  withered  heath  and  rushes  dry 

Supplied  a  russet  canopy. 

Due  westward,  fronting  to  the  green, 

A  rural  portico  was  seen, 

Aloft  on  native  pillars  borne, 

Of  mountain  fir  with  bark  unshorn. 

Where  Ellen's  hand  had  taught  to  twine 

The  ivy  and  Idaean  vine. 

The  clematis,  the  favoured  flower. 

Which  boasts  the  name  of  virgin-bower. 

And  every  hardy  plant  could  bear 

Loch- Katrine's  keen  and  searching  air. 

An  instant  in  this  porch  she  staid. 

And  gaily  to  the  Stranger  said, 

"  On  heaven  and  on  thy  lady  call, 

And  enter  the  enchanted  hall  !" — 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  SS 

XXVII. 

"  My  hope,  my  heaven,  my  trust  must  be, 

My  gentle  guide,  in  following  thee."— 

He  crossed  the  threshold — and  a  clang 

Of  angry  steel  that  instant  rang. 

To  his  bold  brow  his  spirit  rushed, 

But  soon  for  vain  alarm  he  blushed, 

When  on  the  floor  he  saw  displayed. 

Cause  of  the  din,  a  naked  blade 

Dropped  from  the  sheath,  that  careless  flung 

Upon  a  stag's  huge  antlers  swung  j 

For  all  around,  the  walls  to  grace. 

Hung  trophies  of  the  fight  or  chase : 

A  target  there,  a  bugle  here, 

A  battle-axe,  a  hunting  spear. 

And  broad-swords,  bows,  and  arrows  store. 

With  the  tusked  trophies  of  the  boar. 

Here  grins  the  wolf  as  when  he  died, 

And  there  the  wild-cat's  brindled  hide 


34  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  X. 

The  frontlet  of  the  elk  adorns, 
Or  mantles  o'er  the  bison's  horns  ; 
Pennons  and  flags  defaced  and  stained, 
That  blackening  streaks  of  blood  retained, 
And  deer-skins,  dappled,  dun,  and  white, 
With  otter's  fur  and  seal's  unite. 
In  rude  and  uncouth  tapestry  all, 
To  garnish  forth  the  sylvan  hall. 

XXVIII. 

The  wondering  Stranger  round  him  gazed, 

And  next  the  fallen  weapon  raised  ; — 

Few  were  the  arms  whose  sinewy  strength 

Sufficed  to  stretch  it  forth  at  length. 

And  as  the  brand  he  poised  and  swayed, 

*<  I  never  knew  but  one,"  he  said, 

"  Whose  stalwart  arm  might  brook  to  wield 

A  blade  Mke  this  in  battle  field." — 

She  sighed,  then  smiled  and  took  the  word ; 

"  You  see  the  guardian  champion's  sword ; 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  35 

As  light  it  trembles  in  his  hand, 

As  in  my  grasp  a  hazel  wand  j 

My  sire's  tall  form  might  grace  the  part 

Of  Ferragus,  or  Ascabart ; 

But  in  the  absent  giant's  hold 

Are  women  now,  and  menials  old." — 

XXIX. 

The  mistress  of  the  mansion  came, 

Mature  of  age,  a  graceful  dame ; 

Whose  easy  step  and  stately  port 

Had  well  become  a  princely  court. 

To  whom,  though  more  than  kindred  knew. 

Young  Ellen  gave  a  mother's  due. 

Meet  welcome  to  her  guest  she  made. 

And  every  courteous  rite  was  paid, 

That  hospitality  could  claim. 

Though  all  unasked  liis  birth  and  name. 

Such  then  the  reverence  to  a  guest. 

That  fellest  foe  might  join  the  feast, 


86         THE  LADY  OF  THE  t-AKE.  CANTO  I. 

And  from  his  deadliest  focman's  door 

Unquestion'd  tuin,  the  banquet  o*er. 

At  length  his  rank  the  Stranger  names, 

*'  The  knight  of  Snowdoun,  James  Fitz-James; 

Lord  of  a  barren  heritage. 

Which  his  brave  sires,  from  age  to  age, 

By  their  good  swords  had  held  with  toil  j 

His  sire  had  fallen  in  such  turmoil, 

And  he,  God  wot,  was  forced  to  stand 

Oft  for  his  rifjht  with  blade  in  hand. 

This  morning  with  Lord  Moray's  train 

He  chased  a  stalwart  stag  in  vain. 

Out-stripped  his  comrades,  missed  the  deer. 

Lost  his  good  steed,  and  wandered  here." — 

XXX. 

Fain  would  the  Knight  in  turn  require 
The  name  and  state  of  Ellen's  sire  j 
Well  shewed  the  elder  lady's  mien, 
That  courts  and  cities  she  had  seen  j 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  37 

Ellen,  though  more  her  looks  displayed 
The  simple  grace  of  sylvan  maid. 
In  speech  and  gesture,  form  and  face, 
Shewed  she  was  come  of  ffentle  race : 
'Twere  strange  in  ruder  rank  to  find 
Such  looks,  such  manners,  and  such  mind. 
Each  hint  the  Knight  of  Snowdoun  gave. 
Dame  Margaret  heard  with  silence  grave  j 
Or  Ellen,  innocently  gay. 
Turned  all  inquiry  light  away  : — 
"  Wierd  women  we  !  by  dale  and  down, 
We  dwell  afar  from  tower  and  town. 
We  stem  the  flood,  we  ride  the  blast. 
On  wandering  knights  our  spells  we  cast ; 
While  viewless  minstrels  touch  the  strinff. 
'Tis  thus  our  charmed  rhymes  we  sing." — 
She  sung,  and  still  a  harp  unseen 
Filled  up  the  symphony  between. 


38  THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.         CANTO  I. 

XXXI. 

*'  Soldier,  rest !  thy  warfare  o*er, 

Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking ; 
Dream  of  battled  fields  no  more, 

Days  of  danger,  nights  of  waking. 
In  our  isle's  enchanted  hall, 

Hands  unseen  thy  couch  are  strewing. 
Fairy  strains  of  music  fall. 

Every  sense  in  slumber  dewing. 
Soldier,  rest !  thy  warfare  o*er. 
Dream  of  fighting  fields  no  more; 
Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking. 
Morn  of  toil,  nor  night  of  waking. 

"  No  rude  sound  shall  reach  thine  ear. 
Armour's  clang,  or  war-steed  champing. 

Trump  nor  pibroch  summon  here 

Mustering  clan,  or  squadron  tramping. 


CANTO  I.  'i  HE  CHASE.  59 

Yet  the  lark's  shrill  fife  may  come 

At  the  day-break  from  the  fallow, 
And  the  bittern  sound  his  drum, 

Booming  from  the  sedgy  shallow. 
Ruder  sounds  shall  none  be  near, 
Guards  nor  warders  challenge  here, 
Here's  no  war-steed's  neigh  and  champing. 
Shouting  clans  or  squadrons  stamping." — 

XXXII. 

She  paused — then,  blushing,  led  the  lay 
To  grace  the  stranger  of  the  day ; 
Her  mellow  notes  awhile  prolong 
The  cadence  of  the  flowing  song, 
Till  to  her  lips  in  measured  frame 
The  minstrel  verse  spontaneous  came. 

&ong  conttnuetit 

*♦  Huntsman,  rest !  thy  chase  is  done. 
While  our  slumbrous  spells  assail  ye, 

Dream  not,  with  the  rising  sun. 
Bugles  here  shall  sound  reveillie. 


40         THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  CANTO  I. 

Sleep  !  the  deer  is  in  his  den  ; 

Sleep  !  thy  hounds  are  by  thee  lying  ; 
Sleep  !  nor  dream  in  yonder  glen, 

How  thy  gallant  steed  lay  dying. 
Huntsman,  rest !  thy  chase  is  done, 
Think  not  of  the  rising  sun, 
For  at  dawning  to  assail  ye, 
Here  no  bugles  sound  reveillie." — 

XXXIII. 

The  hall  was  cleared— the  Stranger's  bed 
Was  there  of  mountain  heather  spread, 
Where  oft  an  hundred  guests  had  lain, 
And  dreamed  their  forest  sports  again. 
But  vainly  did  the  heath-flower  shed 
Its  moorland  fragrance  round  his  head  ; 
Not  Ellen's  spell  had  lulled  to  rest 
The  fever  of  his  troubled  breast. 
In  broken  dreams  the  imaije  rose 
Of  varied  perils,  pains,  and  woes  ; 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  41 

His  steed  now  flounders  in  the  brake, 

Now  sinks  his  barge  upon  the  lake  j 

Now  leader  of  a  brt)ken  host, 

His  standard  falls,  his  honour's  lost. 

Then, — irom  my  couch  may  heavenly  might 

Chase  that  worst  phantom  of  the  night ! — 

Again  returned  the  scenes  of  youth, 

Of  confident  undoubting  truth  ; 

Again  his  soul  he  interchanged 

With  friends  whose  hearts  were  lonff  estranged. 

They  come,  in  dim  procession  led, 

The  cold,  the  faithless,  and  the  dead  j 

As  warm  each  hand,  each  brow  as  gay, 

As  if  they  parted  yesterday. 

And  doubt  distracts  him  at  the  view, 

O  were  his  senses  false  or  true  ! 

Dreamed  he  of  death,  oj-  broken  vow, 

Or  is  it  all  a  vision  now  ! 


4*  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        eANfO  I. 

XXXIV. 

At  length,  with  Ellen  in  a  grove, 

He  seemed  to  walk,  and  speak  of  love  j 

She  listened  with  a  blush  and  sigh, 

His  suit  was  warm,  his  hopes  were  high. 

He  sought  her  yielded  hand  to  clasp. 

And  a  cold  gauntlet  met  his  grasp  : 

The  phantom's  sex  was  changed  and  gone. 

Upon  its  head  a  helmet  shone ; 

Slowly  enlarged  to  giant  size, 

With  darkened  cheek  and  threatening  eyes. 

The  grisly  visage,  stern  and  hoar, 

To  EUen  still  a  likeness  bore. — 

He  woke,  and,  panting  with  affright. 

Recalled  the  vision  of  the  night. 

The  hearth's  decaying  brands  were  red, 

And  deep  and  dusky  lustre  shed, 

Half  shewing,  half  concealing  all 

The  uncouth  trophies  of  the  hall. 


CANTO  I.  THE  CHASE.  43 

Mid  those  the  Stranger  fixed  his  eye 
Where  that  huge  faulchion  hung  on  high, 
And  thoughts  on  thoughts,  a  countless  throng, 
Rushed,  chasing  countless  thoughts  along, 
Until,  the  giddy  whirl  to  cure. 
He  rose,  and  sought  the  moon-shine  pure. 

XXXV. 

The  wild  rose,  eglantine,  and  broom, 
Wasted  around  their  rich  j)erfume ; 
The  birch-trees  wept  in  fragrant  balm, 
The  aspens  slept  beneath  the  calm ; 
The  silver  light,  with  quivering  glance, 
Played  on  the  water's  still  expanse, — 
Wild  were  the  heart  whose  passion's  sway 
CouJd  rage  beneath  the  sober  ray  ! 
He  felt  its  calm,  that  warrior  guest, 
While  thus  he  communed  with  his  breast : 
**  Why  is  it  at  each  turn  I  trace 
Some  memory  of  that  exiled  race  ? 


44  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  I. 

Can  I  not  mountain  maiden  spy, 
But  she  must  bear  the  Douglas  eye  ? 
Can  I  not  view  a  highland  brand, 
But  it  must  match  the  Douglas  hand  ? 
Can  I  not  frame  a  fevered  dream, 
But  still  the  Douglas  is  the  theme  ? — 
I'll  dream  no  more — ^by  manly  mind 
Not  even  in  sleep  is  will  resigned. 
My  midnight  orisons  said  o'er, 
I'll  turn  to  rest,  and  dream  no  more." — 
His  midnight  orison  he  told, 
A  prayer  with  every  bead  of  gold, 
Consigned  to  heaven  his  cares  and  woes, 
And  sunk  in  imdisturbed  repose  ; 
Until  the  heath-cock  shrilly  crew, 
And  morning  dawned  on  Benvenue. 


END  OF  CANTO  FIRST. 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE, 


CANTO  SECOND. 


%f)t  3(0lant»f 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  SECOND. 


■Cfie  Mmt3. 


I. 

At  morn  the  black-cock  trims  his  jetty  wing, 

'Tis  morning  prompts  the  linnet's  blithest  lay, 
All  Nature's  children  feel  the  matin  spring 

Of  life  reviving,  with  reviving  day  ; 
And  while  yon  little  bark  glides  down  the  bay, 

Wafting  the  stranger  on  his  way  again, 
Morn*s  genial  influence  roused  a  Minstrel  grey, 

And  sweetly  o'er  the  lake  was  heard  thy  strain, 
Mix'd  with    the    sounding    harp,    O    white-haired 
Allan-bane  ! 


48  THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  II. 


ll. 

*'  Not  faster  yonder  rowers'  might 
Flings  from  their  oars  the  spray, 

Not  faster  yonder  rippling  bright, 

That  tracks  the  shallop's  course  in  hght. 
Melts  in  the  lake  away, 

Than  men  from  memory  erase 

The  benefits  of  former  days  j 

Then,  Stranger,  go  1  good  speed  the  while. 

Nor  think  again  of  the  lonely  isle, 

"  High  jilace  to  thee  in  royal  court, 

High  place  in  battled  hne. 
Good  hawk  and  hound  for  sylvan  sport. 
Where  Beauty  sees  the  brave  resort, 

The  honoured  meed  be  thine  ! 
True  be  thy  sword,  thy  friend  sincere. 
Thy  lady  constant,  kind  and  dear, 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  -59 

And  lost  in  love*s  and  friendship's  smile, 
Be  memory  of  the  lonely  isle. 

III. 

^0110  tomtttueti. 

"  But  if  beneath  yon  southern  sky 

A  plaided  stranger  roam, 
Whose  drooping  crest  and  stifled  sigh, 
And  sunken  cheek  and  heavy  eye. 

Pine  for  his  highland  home ; 
Then,  warrior,  then  be  thine  to  show 
The  care  that  soothes  a  wanderer's  woe ; 
Remember  then  thy  hap  ere  while 
A  stranger  in  the  lonely  isle. 

"  Or  if  on  life's  uncertain  main 

Mishap  shall  mar  thy  sail ; 
If  faithful,  wise,  and  brave  in  vain. 
Woe,  want,  and  exile  thou  sustain 

Beneath  the  fickle  gale  ; 

D 


50  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  II. 

Waste  not  a  sigh  on  fortune  changed, 
On  thankless  courts,  or  friends  estranged. 
But  come  where  kindred  worth  shall  smile, 
To  greet  thee  in  the  lonely  isle." — 

IV. 

As  died  the  sounds  upon  the  tide. 

The  shallop  reached  the  main-land  side, 

And  ere  his  onward  way  he  took. 

The  Stranger  cast  a  lingering  look, 

Where  easily  his  eye  might  reach 

The  harper  on  the  islet  beach. 

Reclined  against  a  blighted  tree. 

As  wasted,  grey,  and  worn  as  he. 

To  minstrel  meditation  given. 

His  reverend  brow  was  raised  to  heaven. 

As  from  the  rising  sun  to  claim 

A  sparkle  of  inspiring  flame. 

His  hand,  reclined  upon  the  wire. 

Seemed  watching  the  awakening  fire ; 


CANTO  II.  THE   ISLAND.  51 

So  still  he  sate,  as  those  who  wait 

Till  judgment  speak  the  doom  of  fate  ; 

So  still,  as  if  no  breeze  might  dare 

To  lift  one  lock  of  hoary  hair  ; 

So  still,  as  life  itself  were  fled. 

In  the  last  somid  his  harp  had  sped. 

V. 

Upon  a  rock  with  lichens  wild. 
Beside  him  Helen  sate  and  smiled. 
Smiled  she  to  see  the  stately  drake 
Lead  forth  his  fleet  upon  the  lake, 
Wliile  her  vexed  spaniel,  from  the  beach. 
Bayed  at  the  prize  beyond  his  reach  ? 
Yet  tell  me  then  the  maid  who  knows. 
Why  deepened  on  her  cheek  the  rose  ? — 
Forgive,  forgive,  fidelity  ! 
Perchance  the  maiden  smiled  to  see 
Yon  parting  lingerer  wave  adieu. 
And  stop  and  turn  to  wave  anew  j 


52  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  ll- 

And,  lovely  ladies,  ere  your  ire 
Condemn  the  heroine  of  my  lyre, 
Shew  me  the  fair  would  scorn  to  spy, 
And  prize  such  conquest  of  her  eye  ! 

VI. 

While  yet  he  loitered  on  the  spot, 
It  seemed  as  Ellen  marked  him  not  j 
But  when  he  turned  him  to  the  glade, 
One  courteous  parting  sign  she  made  j 
And  after,  oft  the  knight  would  say, 
That  not  when  prize  of  festal  day 
Was  dealt  him  by  the  brightest  fair, 
Who  e'er  wore  jewel  in  her  hair, 
So  highly  did  his  bosom  swell, 
As  at  that  simple  mute  farewell. 
Now  -with  a  trusty  mountain  guide, 
And  his  dark  stag-hounds  by  his  side, 
He  parts — the  maid,  unconscious  still, 
Watched  him  wind  slowly  round  the  hill ; 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  53 

But  when  his  stately  form  was  hid, 

The  guardian  in  her  bosom  chid — 

"  Thy  Malcolm  !  vain  and  selfish  maid  !" 

'Twas  thus  upbraiding  conscience  said, 

<'  Not  so  had  Malcolm  idly  hung 

On  the  smooth  phrase  of  southern  tongue  j 

Not  so  had  Malcolm  strained  his  eye 

Another  step  than  thine  to  spy — 

"  Wake,  Allan-bane,"  aloud  she  cried, 

To  the  old  Minstrel  by  her  side, 

**  Arouse  thee  from  thy  moody  dream  ! 

1*11  give  thy  harp  heroic  theme, 

And  warm  thee  with  a  noble  name  ; 

Pour  forth  the  glory  of  the  Graeme." — 

Scarce  from  her  Up  the  word  had  rushed. 

When  deep  the  conscious  maiden  blushed  ; 

For  of  his  clan,  in  hall  and  bower. 

Young  Malcolm  Graeme  was  held  the  flower. 


^^ 


54  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.       OANTO  ir. 

VII. 

The  Minstrel  waked  his  harp — three  times 
Arose  the  well-known  martial  chimes, 
And  thrice  their  high  heroic  pride 
In  melancholy  murmurs  died. 
— "  Vainly  thou  bidst,  O  noble  maid," 
Clasping  his  withered  hands,  he  said, 
Vainly  thou  bidst  me  wake  the  strain, 


(( 


Though  all  unwont  to  bid  in  vain. 

Alas  !  than  mine  a  mightier  hand 

Has  tuned  my  harp,  my  strings  has  spanned  .' 

I  touch  the  choids,  of  joy,  but  low 

And  mournful  answer  notes  of  woe ; 

And  the  proud  march  which  victors  tread. 

Sinks  in  the  wailinjj  for  the  dead. — 

O  well  for  me,  if  mine  alone 

That  dirge's  deep  prophetic  tone  ! 

If,  as  my  tuneful  fathers  said, 

This  harp,  which  erst  Saint  Modan  swayed, 

7 


CAKTOir.  THE  ISLAND.  55 

Can  thus  its  master's  fate  foretel, 
Then  welcome  be  the  minstrel's  knell  ! 

VIII. 

*'  But  ah  !  dear  lady,  thus  it  sighed 

The  eve  thy  sainted  mother  died  ; 

And  such  the  sounds  which,  while  I  strove 

To  wake  a  lay  of  war  or  love, 

Came  marring  all  the  festal  mirth, 

Appalling  me  who  gave  them  birth. 

And,  disobedient  to  my  call, 

Wailed  loud  through  Bothwell's  bannered  hall. 

Ere  Douglasses  to  ruin  driven, 

Were  exiled  from  their  native  heaven. — 

Oh  !  if  yet  worse  mishap  and  woe 

My  master's  house  must  undergo, 

Or  aught  but  weal  to  Ellen  fair. 

Brood  in  these  accents  of  despair, 

No  future  bard,  sad  harp  !  shall  fling 

Triumph  or  rapture  from  thy  string  j 


56  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  11. 

One  short,  one  final  strain  shall  flow,  ^' 

Fraught  with  unutterable  woe, 
Then  shivered  shall  thy  fragments  lie, 
Thy  master  cast  him  down  and  die." — 

IX. 

Soothing  she  answered  him,  "  Assuage, 

Mine  honoured  friend,  the  fears  of  age  ; 

All  melodies  to  thee  are  known. 

That  harp  has  rung,  or  pipe  has  blown. 

In  lowland  vale  or  highland  glen, 

From  Tweed  to  Spey — what  marvel,  then. 

At  times,  unbidden  nptes  should  rise, 

Confusedly  bound  in  memory's  ties. 

Entangling,  as  they  rush  along. 

The  war-march  with  the  funeral  song  ? — 

Small  ground  is  now  for  boding  fear  ; 

Obscure,  but  safe,  we  rest  us  here. 

My  sire,  in  native  virtue  great. 

Resigning  lordsliip,  lands,  and  state. 


(TANTOII.  THE  ISLAND.  57 

Not  then  to  fortune  more  resigned, 

Than  yonder  oak  might  give  the  wind  ;      ^J^A^ 

The  graceful  foliage  storms  may  reave. 

The  noble  stem  they  cannot  grieve.  ^ 

For  me,'* — she  stooped,  and,  looking  round, 

Plucked  a  blue  hare-bell  from  the  ground, 

**  For  me,  whose  memory  scarce  conveys 

An  image  of  more  splendid  days, 

This  little  flower,  that  loves  the  lea, 

May  well  my  simple  emblem  be ; 

It  drinks  heaven's  dew  as  blithe  as  rose 

That  in  the  King's  own  garden  grows, 

And  when  I  place  it  in  my  hair, 

Allan,  a  bard  is  bound  to  swear 

He  ne'er  saw  coronet  so  fair." — 

Then  playfully  the  chaplet  wild 

She  wreathed  in  her  dark  locks,  and  smiled. 

X. 

Her  smile,  her  speech,  with  winning  sway. 
Wiled  the  old  harper's  mood  away. 


S8  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  II. 

With  such  a  look  as  hermits  throw 
When  angels  stoop  to  soothe  their  woe, 
He  gazed,  till  fond  regret  and  pride 
Thrilled  to  a  tear,  then  thus  repHed : 
**  Loveliest  and  best !  thou  Httle  know'st 
The  rank,  the  honours  thou  hast  lost ! 
O  might  I  live  to  see  thee  grace, 
In  Scotland's  court,  thy  birth-right  place, 
To  see  my  favourite's  step  advance, 
The  lightest  in  the  courtly  dance, 
The  cause  of  every  gallant's  sigh. 
And  leading  star  of  every  eye, 
And  theme  of  every  minstrel's  art. 
The  Lady  of  the  Bleeding  Heart  !'*  f — 

XL 

*'  Fair  dreams  are  these,"  the  maiden  cried, 
(Light  was  her  accent,  yet  she  sighed,) 
"  Yet  is  this  mossy  rock  to  me 
Worth  splendid  chair  and  canopy  ; 

'  The  well-known  cognizance  of  tlie  Douglas  famil3'. 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  59 

Nor  would  my  footstep  spring  more  gay 
In  courtly  dance  than  blithe  strathspey, 
Nor  half  so  pleased  mine  ear  incline 
To  royal  minstrel's  lay  as  thine  ; 
And  then  for  suitors  proud  and  high, 
To  bend  before  my  conquering  eye. 
Thou,  flattering  bard  !  thyself  wilt  say. 
That  grim  Sir  Roderick  owns  its  sway. 
The  Saxon  scourge,  Clan-Alpine's  pride, 
The  terror  of  Lochlomond's  side, 
Would,  at  my  suit,  thou  know'st,  delay 
A  Lennox  foray — for  a  day." — 

XII. 
The  ancient  bard  his  glee  repressed ; 
"  111  hast  thou  chosen  theme  for  jest ! 
For  who,  through  all  this  western  wild, 
Named  Black  Sir  Roderick  e'er,  and  smiled  ! 
In  Holy-Rood  a  knight  he  slew  ; 
I  saw,  when  back  the  dirk  he  drew. 
Courtiers  give  place  before  the  stride 
Of  the  undaunted  homicide; 


60         THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  II. 

And  since,  though  outlawed,  hath  his  hand 

Full  sternly  kept  his  mountain  land. 

Who  else  dared  give, — ah  !  woe  the  day, 

That  I  such  hated  truth  should  say — 

The  Douglas,  like  a  stricken  deer. 

Disowned  by  every  noble  peer, 

Even  the  rude  refuge  we  have  here  ? 

Alas,  this  wild  marauding  chief 

Alone  might  hazard  our  relief, 

And  now  thy  maiden  charms  expand. 

Looks  for  his  guerdon  in  thy  band  ; 

Full  soon  may  dispensation  sought. 

To  back  his  suit  from  Rome  be  brought. 

Then,  though  an  exile  on  the  hiU, 

Thy  father,  as  the  Douglas,  still 

Be  held  in  reverence  and  fear  5 

And  though  to  Roderick  thou*rt  so  dear. 

That  thou  might'st  guide  with  silken  thread. 

Slave  of  thy  will,  this  chieftain  dread ; 

Yet,  O  loved  maid,  thy  mirth  refrain  ! 

Thy  hand  is  on  a  lion's  mane." — 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  61 

XIII. 

"  Minstrel,"  the  maid  replied,  and  high 
Her  father's  soul  glanced  from  her  eye, 
*'  My  debts  to  Roderick's  house  I  know: 
All  that  a  mother  could  bestow, 
To  Lady  Margaret's  care  I  owe, 
Since  first  an  orphan  in  the  wild 
She  sorrowed  o'er  her  sister's  child  j 
To  her  brave  chieftain  son,  from  ire 
Of  Scotland's  king  who  shrouds  my  sire, 
A  deeper,  holier  debt  is  owed ; 
And,  could  1  pay  it  with  my  blood, 
Allan  !  Sir  Roderick  should  command 
My  blood,  my  life, — but  not  my  hand. 
Rather  will  Ellen  Douglas  dwell 
A  vot'ress  in  Maronnan's  cell ; 
Rather  through  realms  beyond  the  sen, 
Seeking  the  world's  cold  charity. 
Where  ne'er  was  spoke  a  Scottish  word. 
And  ne'er  the  name  of  Douglas  heard. 


62  THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.         CANTO  11. 

An  outcast  pilgrim  will  she  rove. 
Than  wed  the  man  she  cannot  love. 

XIV. 

*'  Tliou  shakest,  good  friend,  thy  tresses  gray- 
That  pleading  look,  what  can  it  say 
But  what  I  own  ? — I  grant  him  brave. 
But  wild  as  Bracklinn's  thundering  wave  ; 
And  generous — save  vindictive  mood. 
Or  jealous  transport,  chafe  his  blood  : 
I  grant  him  true  to  friendly  band. 
As  his  claymore  is  to  his  hand  ; 
But  O  !  that  very  blade  of  steel 
More  mercy  for  a  foe  would  feel : 
I  grant  him  liberal,  to  fling 
Among  his  clan  the  wealth  they  bring. 
When  back  by  lake  and  glen  they  wind, 
And  in  the  Lowland  leave  behind, 
Where  once  some  pleasant  hamlet  stood, 
A  mass  of  ashes  slaked  with  blood. 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  65 

The  hand  that  for  my  father  fought, 

I  honour,  as  his  daughter  ought ; 

But  can  I  clasp  it  reeking  red, 

From  peasants  slaughtered  in  their  shed  ? 

No  !  wildly  while  his  virtues  gleam. 

They  make  his  passions  darker  seem, 

And  flash  along  his  spirit  high, 

Like  lightning  o'er  the  midnight  sky. 

While  yet  a  child, — and  children  know, 

Instinctive  taught,  the  friend  and  foe, — 

I  shuddered  at  his  brow  of  gloom. 

His  shadowy  plaid,  and  sable  plume  j 

A  maiden  grown,  I  ill  could  bear 

His  haughty  mien  and  lordly  air ; 

But,  if  thou  join'st  a  suitor's  claim. 

In  serious  mood,  to  Roderick's  name, 

I  thrill  with  anguish  !  or,  if  e'er 

A  Douglas  knew  the  word,  with  fear. 

To  change  such  odious  theme  were  best, — 

What  think'st  thou  of  our  stranger  guest  ?"— 


M      THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  il. 

XV. 

♦'  What  think  I  of  him  ? — woe  the  while 
That  brought  such  wanderer  to  our  isle  ! 
Thy  father's  battle-brand,  of  yore 
For  Tine-man  forged  by  fairy  lore. 
What  time  he  leagued,  no  longer  foes. 
His  Border  spears  with  Hotspur's  bows, 
Did,  self-unscabbarded,  fore-show 
The  footstep  of  a  secret  foe. 
If  courtly  spy,  and  harboured  here. 
What  may  we  for  the  Douglas  fear  ? 
"What  for  this  island,  deemed  of  old 
Clan- Alpine's  last  and  surest  hold  I 
If  neither  spy  nor  foe,  I  pray 
What  yet  may  jealous  Roderick  say  ? 
— Nay,  wave  not  thy  disdainful  head  ! 
Bethink  thee  of  the  discord  dread, 
That  kindled  when  at  Beltane  game 
Thou  ledst  the  dance  with  Malcolm  Graeme; 

6 


/ 


CANTO  II,  THE  ISLAND.  66 

Still,  though  thy  sire  the  peace  renewed. 
Smoulders  in  Roderick's  breast  the  feud  j 
Beware  ! — But  hark,  what  sounds  are  these  ? 
My  dull  ears  catch  no  faultering  breeze, 
No  weeping  birch,  nor  aspens  wake, 
Nor  breath  is  dimpling  in  the  lake. 
Still  is  the  canna's  *  hoary  beard. 
Yet,  by  my  minstrel  faith,  I  heard — 
And  hark  again  !  some  pipe  of  war 
Sends  the  bold  pibroch  from  afar."— 

XVI. 

Far  up  the  lengthened  lake  were  spied 
Four  darkening  specks  upon  the  tide. 
That,  slow  enlarging  on  the  view. 
Four  manned  and  masted  barges  grew. 
And  bearing  downwards  from  Glengyle, 
Steered  full  upon  the  lonely  isle ; 

*  Cotton-crsiss. 


E 


66 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  H» 


The  point  of  Brianchoil  they  passed, 

And,  to  the  windward  as  they  cast, 

Against  the  sun  they  gave  to  shine 

The  bold  Sir  Roderick's  bannered  pine. 

Nearer  and  nearer  as  they  bear, 

Spears,  pikes,  and  axes  flash  in  air. 

Now  might  you  see  the  tartans  brave, 

And  plaids  and  plumage  dance  and  wave  5 

Now  see  the  bonnets  sink  and  rise. 

As  his  tough  oar  the  rower  plies ; 

See,  flashing  at  each  sturdy  stroke. 

The  wave  ascending  into  smoke  ; 

See  the  proud  pipers  on  the  bow, 

And  mark  the  gaudy  streamers  flow 

From  their  loud  chanters  *  down,  and  sweep 

The  furrowed  bosom  of  the  deep. 

As,  rushing  through  the  lake  amain. 

They  plied  the  ancient  highland  strain. 

*  The  drone  of  the  bag-pipe. 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  67 

• 

XVII. 

Ever,  as  on  they  bore,  more  loud 

And  louder  rung  the  pibroch  proud. 

At  first  the  sound,  by  distance  tame, 

Mellowed  along  the  waters  came. 

And,  lingering  long  by  cape  and  bay. 

Wailed  every  harsher  note  away ; 

Then  bursting  bolder  on  the  ear. 

The  clan's  shrill  Gathering  they  could  hear  ; 

Those  thrilling  sounds,  that  call  the  might 

Of  old  Clan- Alpine  to  the  fight. 

Thick  beat  the  rapid  notes,  as  when 

The  mustering  hundreds  shake  the  glen. 

And,  hurrying  at  the  signal  diead. 

The  battered  earth  returns  their  tread. 

Then  prelude  light,  of  hvelier  tone. 

Expressed  their  merry  marching  on. 

Ere  peal  of  closing  battle  rose, 

With  mingled  out-cry,  shrieks,  and  blows  ; 


68 


THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  11. 


And  mimic  din  of  stroke  and  ward, 
As  broad-sword  upon  target  jarred  j 
And  groaning  pause,  ere  yet  again. 
Condensed,  the  battle  yelled  amain  ; 
The  rapid  charge,  the  rallying  shout, 
Retreat  borne  headlong  into  rout. 
And  bursts  of  triumph,  to  declare 
Clan-Alpine's  conquest— all  were  there. 
Nor  ended  thus  the  strain ;  but  slow, 
Sunk  in  a  moan  prolonged  and  low, 
And  changed  the  conquering  clarion  swell, 
For  wild  lament  o'er  those  that  fell. 

XVIII. 

The  war-pipes  ceased  ;  but  lake  and  hill 
Were  busy  with  their  echoes  still ; 
And,  when  they  slept,  a  vocal  strain 
Bade  their  hoarse  chorus  wake  again. 
While  loud  a  hundred  clans-men  raise 
Their  voices  in  their  Chieftain's  praise. 


CANSO  ir.  THE  ISLAND.  63 

Each  boat-man,  bending  to  his  oar, 
With  measured  sweep  the  burthen  bore. 
In  such  wild  cadence,  as  the  breeze 
Makes  through  December's  leafless  trees. 
The  chorus  first  could  Allan  know, 
*'  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine,  ho  !  iro  !'* 
And  near,  and  nearer  as  they  rowed. 
Distinct  the  martial  ditty  flowed. 

XIX. 

Boat  ^ottg* 

Hail  to  the  chief  who  in  triumph  advances  ! 

Honoured  and  blessed  be  the  ever-green  Pine  ! 
Long  may  the  Tree  in  his  banner  that  glances. 
Flourish,  the  shelter  and  grace  of  our  line  ! 

Heaven  send  it  happy  dew. 

Earth  lend  it  sap  anew, 
Gayly  to  bourgeon,  and  broadly  to  grow, 

While  every  highland  glen 

Sends  our  shout  back  airen, 
**  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dim,  Iio  !  ieroe  !'* 


79  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  ll; 

Ours  is  no  sapling,  chance-sown  by  the  fountain, 

Blooming  at  Beltane,  in  winter  to  fade ; 
When  the  whirlwind  has  stripped  every  leaf  on  the 
mountain, 
The  more  shall  Clan- Alpine  exult  in  her  shade. 
Moored  in  the  rifted  rock, 
Proof  to  the  tempest's  shock. 
Firmer  he  roots  him  the  ruder  it  blow ; 
Menteith  and  Breadalbane,  then, 
Echo  his  praise  agen, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dliu,  ho  !  ieroe  !' 


i>» 


XX. 

Proudly  our  pibroch  has  thrilled  in  Glen  Fruin, 
And  Banochar's  groans  to  our  slogan  replied  ; 
Glen  Luss  and  Ross-dhu,  they  are  smoking  in  ruin. 
And  the  best  of  Loch-Lomond  lie  dead  on  her 
side. 
Widow  and  Saxon  maid 
Long  shall  lament  our  raid. 


CAiJTOJi.  tHE  ISLAND.  71 

Think  of  Clan- Alpine  with  fear  and  with  woe  j 

Lennox  and  Leven-glen 

Shake  when  tliey  hear  agen, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  !' 


ijj 


Row,  vassals,  row,  for  the  pride  of  the  Highlands  ! 

Stretch  to  your  oars,  for  the  ever-green  Pine  ! 
O  !  that  the  rose-bud  that  graces  yon  islands. 

Were  wreathed  in  a  garland  around  him  to  twine  ! 

O  that  some  seedling  gem, 

Worthy  such  noble  stem. 
Honoured  and  blessed  in  their  shadow  might  grow  ! 

Loud  should  Clan- Alpine  then 

Ring  from  her  deepmost  glen, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  I" 

XXL 

With  all  her  joyful  female  band. 
Had  Lady  Margaret  sought  the  strand. 
Loose  on  the  breeze  their  tresses  flew. 
And  high  their  snowy  arms  they  threw, 


72  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  II. 

As  echoing  back  with  shrill  acclaim, 

And  chorus  wild,  the  chieftain's  name  ; 

While,  prompt  to  please,  with  mother's  art, 

The  darling  passion  of  his  heart. 

The  Dame  called  Ellen  to  the  strand. 

To  greet  her  kinsman  ere  he  land  : 

"  Come,  loiterer,  come !  a  Douglas  thou, 

And  shun  to  wreathe  a  victor's  brow  ?*' — 

Reluctantly  and  slow,  the  maid 

The  unwelcome  summoning  obeyed, 

And,  when  a  distant  bugle  rung. 

In  the  mid-path  aside  she  sprung : — 

**  List,  Allan-bane  !   From  main-land  cast, 

I  hear  my  father's  signal  blast. 

Be  ours,"  she  cried,  *'  the  skiff  to  guide. 

And  waft  him  from  the  mountain  side." — 

Then,  like  a  sun-beam,  swift  and  bright, 

She  darted  to  her  shallop  light. 

And,  eagerly  while  Roderick  scanned. 

For  her  dear  form,  his  mother's  band, 


CANTO  11.  THE  ISLAND.  75 

The  islet  far  behind  her  lay, 
And  she  had  landed  in  the  bay. 

XXII. 

Some  feelings  are  to  mortals  given, 
With  less  of  earth  in  them  than  heaven  j 
And  if  there  be  a  human  tear 
From  passion's  dross  refined  and  clear, 
A  tear  so  Kmpid  and  so  meek, 
It  would  not  stain  an  angel's  cheek, 
'Tis  that  which  pious  fathers  shed 
Upon  a  duteous  daughter's  head  ! 
And  as  the  Douglas  to  his  breast 
His  darling  Ellen  closely  pressed. 
Such  holy  drops  her  tresses  steep'd. 
Though  'twas  an  hero's  eye  that  weep'd. 
Nor  while  on  Ellen's  faultering  tongue 
Her  filial  welcomes  crowded  hung, 
Marked  she,  that  fear,  (affection's  proof,) 
iStill  held  a  gracefiil  youth  aloof; 


^4  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  1/. 

No  !  not  till  Douglas  named  his  name. 
Although  the  youth  was  Malcolm  Graeme. 

XXIII. 

Allan,  with  wistful  look  the  while, 

Marked  Roderick  landing  on  the  isle ; 

His  master  piteously  he  eyed, 

Then  gazed  upon  the  chieftain's  pride. 

Then  dashed,  with  hasty  hand,  away 

From  his  dimmed  eye  the  gathering  spray  ; 

And  Douglas,  as  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm's  shoulder,  kindly  said, 

**  Can'st  thou,  young  friend,  no  meaning  spy 

In  my  poor  follower's  glistening  eye  ? 

I'll  tell  thee  : — he  recalls  the  day. 

When  in  my  praise  he  led  the  lay 

O'er  the  arched  gate  of  Bothwell  proud, 

WTiile  many  a  minstrel  answered  loud. 

When  Percy's  Norman  pennon,  won 

In  bloody  field,  before  me  shone, 

13 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  75 

And  twice  ten  knights,  tlie  least  a  name 
As  mighty  as  yon  chief  may  claim, 
Gracing  my  pomp,  behind  me  came. 
Yet  trust  me,  Malcolm,  not  so  proud 
Was  I  of  all  that  marshalled  crowd. 
Though  the  waned  crescent  owned  my  might, 
And  in  my  train  trooped  lord  and  knight. 
Though  Blantyre  hymned  her  holiest  lays, 
And  Bothwell's  bards  flung  back  my  praise, 
As  when  this  old  man's  silent  tear. 
And  this  poor  maid's  affection  dear, 
A  welcome  give  more  kind  and  true. 
Than  aught  my  better  fortunes  knew. 
Forgive,  my  friend,  a  father's  boast ; 
O  !  it  out-beggars  all  I  lost !" — 

XXIV. 

Delightful  praise  ! — like  summer  rose, 
That  brighter  in  the  dew-drop  glows, 
The  bashful  maiden's  cheek  appeared. 
For  Douglas  spoke,  and  Malcolm  heard. 


76         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  II. 

The  flush  of  shame-faced  joy  to  hide, 
The  hounds,  the  hawk,  her  cares  divide ; 
The  loved  caresses  of  the  maid 
The  dogs  with  crouch  and  whimper  paid ; 
And,  at  her  whistle,  on  her  hand 
The  falcon  took  his  favourite  stand, 
Closed  his  dark  wing,  relaxed  his  eye, 
Nor,  though  unhooded,  sought  to  fly. 
And,  trust,  while  in  such  guise  she  stood, 
Like  fabled  Goddess  of  the  Wood, 
That  if  a  father's  partial  thought 
0*erweighed  her  worth  and  beauty  aught. 
Well  might  the  lover's  judgment  fail 
To  balance  with  a  juster  scale  ; 
For  with  each  secret  glance  he  stole. 
The  fond  enthusiast  sent  his  soul. 

XXV. 

Of  stature  fair,  and  slender  frame, 
But  firmly  knit,  was  Malcolm  Grreme. 


CANTO  II.  THE   ISLAND.  77 

The  belted  plaid  and  tartan  hose 

Did  ne'er  more  graceful  limbs  disclose  ; 

His  flaxen  hair,  of  sunny  hue, 

Curled  closely  round  his  bonnet  blue. 

Trained  to  the  chase,  his  eagle  eye 

The  ptarmigan  in  snow  could  spy  ; 

Each  pass,  by  mountain,  lake,  and  heath, 

He  knew,  through  Lennox  and  Menteith ; 

Vain  was  the  bound  of  dark-brown  doe, 

When  Malcolm  bent  his  sounding  bow, 

And  scarce  that  doe,  though  winged  with  fear, 

Out-stripped  in  speed  the  mountaineer  ; 

Right  up  Ben-Lomond  could  he  press. 

And  not  a  sob  his  toil  confess. 

His  form  accorded  with  a  mind 

Lively  and  ardent,  frank  and  kind ; 

A  blither  heart,  till  Ellen  came. 

Did  never  love  nor  sorrow  tame  ; 

It  danced  as  lightsome  in  his  breast. 

As  played  the  feather  on  his  crest. 


78         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  II. 

Yet  friends,  who  nearest  knew  the  youth, 
His  scorn  of  wrong,  his  zeal  for  truth. 
And  bards,  who  saw  his  features  bold, 
When  kindled  by  the  tales  of  old. 
Said,  were  that  youth  to  manhood  grown. 
Not  long  should  Roderick  Dhu's  renown 
Be  foremost  voiced  by  mountain  fame. 
But  quail  to  that  of  Malcolm  Graeme. 

XXVI. 

Now  back  they  Avend  their  watery  way. 
And,  '*  O  my  sire !"  did  Ellen  say, 
"  Why  urge  thy  chase  so  far  astray  ? 
And  why  so  late  returned  ?  And  why" — 
The  rest  was  in  her  speaking  eye. 
"  My  child,  the  chase  I  follow  far, 
'Tis  mimicry  of  noble  war  ; 
And  with  that  gallant  pastime  reft 
Were  all  of  Douglas  I  have  left. 
I  met  young  Malcolm  as  I  strayed 
Far  eastward,  in  Gleufinlas'  shade. 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  T9 

Nor  strayed  I  safe  ;  for,  all  around, 
Hunters  and  horsemen  scoured  the  ground. 
This  youth,  though  still  a  royal  ward, 
Risqued  life  and  land  to  be  my  guard. 
And  through  the  passes  of  the  wood 
Guided  my  steps,  not  unpursued  ; 
And  Roderick  shall  his  welcome  make, 
Despite  old  spleen,  for  Douglas*  sake. 
Then  must  he  seek  Strath-Endrick  glen, 
Nor  peril  aught  for  me  agen." — 

XXVII. 

Sir  Roderick,  who  to  meet  them  came, 
Reddened  at  sight  of  Malcohu  Grairac, 
Yet,  not  in  action,  word,  or  eye. 
Failed  aught  in  hospitality. 
In  talk  and  sport  they  whiled  away 
The  morning  of  that  summer  day  j 
But  at  high  noon  a  courier  light 
Held  secret  parley  with  the  knight, 


80  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  If. 

Whose  moody  aspect  soon  declared. 
That  evil  were  the  news  he  heard. 
Deep  thoughts  seemed  toiling  in  his  head  ; 
Yet  was  the  evening  banquet  made, 
Ere  he  assembled  round  the  flame, 
His  mother,  Douglas,  and  the  Graeme, 
And  Ellen,  too ;  then  cast  around 
His  eyes,  then  fixed  them  on  the  ground. 
As  studying  phrase  that  might  avail 
Best  to  convey  unpleasant  tale. 
Long  with  his  dagger*s  hilt  he  played, 
Then  raised  his  haughty  brow,  and  said : 

XXVIII. 

*'  Short  be  my  speech  ; — nor  time  affords, 

Nor  my  plain  temper,  glozing  words. 

Kinsman  and  father, — if  such  name 

Douglas  vouchsafe  to  Roderick's  claim  ; 

Mine  honoured  mother  5  Ellen — ^why, 

My  cousin,  turn  away  thine  eye  ? — 

12 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  81 

And  Graeme ;  in  whom  I  hope  to  know 
Full  soon  a  noble  friend  or  foe. 
When  age  shall  give  thee  thy  command, 
And  leading  in  thy  native  land, — 
List  all ! — The  King's  vindictive  pride 
Boasts  to  have  tamed  the  Border-side, 
Where  chiefs,  with  hound  and  hawk  who  came 
To  share  their  monarch's  sylvan  game. 
Themselves  in  bloody  toils  were  snared. 
And  when  the  banquet  they  prepared. 
And  wide  their  loyal  portals  flung, 
0*er  their  own  gate-way  struggling  hung. 
Loud  cries  their  blood  from  Meggat's  mead. 
From  Yarrow  braes,  and  banks  of  Tweed, 
Where  the  lone  streams  of  Ettricke  glide. 
And  from  the  silver  Teviot's  side  j 
The  dales,  where  martial  clans  did  ride. 
Are  now  one  sheep-walk  waste  and  wide. 
This  tyrant  of  the  Scottish  throne, 
So  faithless,  and  so  ruthless  known, 

F 


a3  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANM  II. 

Now  hither  comes  j  his  end  the  same, 

The  same  pretext  of  sylvan  game. 

What  grace  for  Highland  chiefs  judge  ye, 

By  fate  of  Border  chivalry. 

Yet  more  j  amid  Glenfinlas  green, 

Douglas,  thy  stately  form  was  seen. 

This  by  espial  sure  I  know : 

Your  counsel  in  the  streight  I  show."— 

XXIX. 

Ellen  and  Margaret  fearfully 
Sought  comfort  in  each  other's  eye, 
Then  turned  their  ghastly  look,  each  one, 
This  to  her  sire,  that  to  her  son. 
The  hasty  colour  went  and  came 
In  the  bold  cheek  of  Malcohn  Graeme  ; 
But  from  his  glance  it  well  appeared, 
*Twas  but  for  Ellen  that  he  feared ; 
While  sorrowful,  but  undismay'd. 
The  Douglas  thus  his  counsel  said : 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  83 

**  Brave  Roderick,  thougli  the  tempest  roar, 

It  may  but  thmider  and  pass  o'er  ; 

Nor  will  I  here  remain  an  hour. 

To  draw  the  lightning  on  thy  bower ; 

For  well  thou  know'st,  at  this  grey  head 

The  royal  bolt  were  fiercest  sped. 

For  thee,  who,  at  thy  King's  command, 

Canst  aid  him  with  a  gallant  band, 

Submission,  homage,  humbled  pride. 

Shall  turn  the  Monarch's  wrath  aside. 

Poor  remnants  of  the  Bleeding  Heart, 

Ellen  and  I  will  seek,  apart, 

The  refuge  of  some  forest  cell ; 

There,  like  the  hunted  quarry,  dwell, 

Till  on  the  mountain  and  the  moor, 

The  stern  pursuit  be  passed  and  o'er.'*— ■ 

XXX. 

"  No,  by  mine  honour,"  Roderick  said, 
**  So  help  me  heaven,  and  my  good  blade  ! 


34  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  li- 

No,  never  !  Blasted  be  yon  pine, 

My  father's  ancient  crest,  and  mine. 

If  from  its  shade  in  danger  part 

The  lineage  of  the  Bleeding  Heart ! 

Hear  my  blunt  speech  :  grant  me  this  maid 

To  wife,  thy  counsel  to  mine  aid  j 

To  Douglas,  leagued  with  Roderick  Dhu, 

Will  friends  and  allies  flock  enow ; 

Like  cause  of  doubt,  distrust,  and  grief. 

Will  bind  to  us  each  Western  Chief. 

When  the  loud  pipes  my  bridal  tell, 

The  Links  of  Forth  shall  hear  the  knell. 

The  guards  shall  start  in  Stirling's  porch  j 

And  when  I  light  the  nuptial  torch, 

A  thousand  villages  in  flames, 

Shall  scare  the  slumbers  of  King  James  ! 

— Nay,  Ellen,  blench  not  thus  away. 

And,  mother,  cease  these  signs,  I  pray ; 

I  meant  not  all  my  heat  might  say. — 

Small  need  of  inroad,  or  of  fight. 

When  the  sage  Douglas  may  unite 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  85 

Each  mountain  clan  in  friendly  band. 
To  guard  the  passes  of  their  land, 
Till  the  foiled  King,  from  pathless  glen, 
Shall  bootless  turn  him  home  agen." — 

XXXI. 

There  are  who  have,  at  midnight  hour. 
In  slumber  scaled  a  dizzy  tower. 
And,  on  the  verge  that  beetled  o*er 
The  ocean-tide's  incessant  roar. 
Dreamed  calmly  out  their  dangerous  dream, 
Till  wakened  by  the  morning  beam ; 
When,  dazzled  by  the  eastern  glow. 
Such  startler  cast  his  glance  below, 
And  saw  unmeasured  depth  around. 
And  heard  unintermitted  sound. 
And  thought  the  battled  fence  so  frail, 
It  waved  like  cobweb  in  the  gale  ; — 
Amid  his  senses'  giddy  wheel. 
Did  he  not  desperate  impulse  feel. 


86  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  II. 

Headlong  to  plange  himself  below. 

And  meet  the  worst  his  fears  foreshow  ? — 

Thus,  Ellen,  dizzy  and  astound. 

As  sudden  ruin  yawned  around. 

By  crossing  terrors  wildly  tossed. 

Still  for  the  Douglas  fearing  most. 

Could  scarce  the  desperate  thought  withstand, 

To  buy  his  safety  with  her  hand. 

XXXII. 

Such  purpose  dread  could  Malcolm  spy 
In  Ellen's  quivering  lip  and  eye, 
And  eager  rose  to  speak — but  ere 
His  tongue  could  hurry  forth  his  fear. 
Had  Douglas  marked  the  hectic  strife, 
Wliere  death  seemed  combating  with  hfej 
For  to  her  cheek,  in  feverish  flood. 
One  instant  rushed  the  throbbing  blood. 
Then  ebbing  back,  with  sudden  sway, 
Left  its  domain  as  wan  as  clay. 


CANTO  U.  THE  ISLAND.  8? 

**  Roderick,  enough  !  enough  !"  he  cried, 

**  My  daughter  cannot  be  thy  bride  ; 

Not  that  the  blush  to  wooer  dear. 

Nor  paleness  that  of  maiden  fear. 

It  may  not  be — forgive  her,  Chief, 

Nor  hazard  aught  for  our  relief. 

Against  his  sovereign,  Douglas  ne'e!^ 

Will  level  a  rebellious  spear. 

'Twas  I  that  taught  his  youthful  hand 

To  rein  a  steed  and  wield  a  brand  j 

I  see  him  yet,  the  princely  boy  ! 

Not  Ellen  more  my  pride  and  joy  j 

I  love  him  still,  despite  my  wrongs, 

By  hasty  wrath,  and  slanderous  tongues. 

O  seek  the  grace  you  well  may  find. 

Without  a  cause  to  mine  combined."   ■ 

XXXIII. 

Twice  through  the  hall  the  Chieftain  strode  j 
The  waving  of  his  tartans  broad, 


S8  THE  LADY   OV  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  H. 

And  darkened  brow,  where  wounded  pride 
With  ire  and  disappointment  vied, 
Seemed,  by  the  torch's  gloomy  hght. 
Like  the  ill  Dsemon  of  the  night, 
Stooping  his  pinions*  shadowy  sway 
Upon  the  nighted  pilgrim's  way : 
But,  unrequited  Love  !  thy  dart 
Plunged  deepest  its  envenomed  smart, 
And  Roderick,  with  thine  anguish  stung. 
At  length  the  hand  of  Douglas  wrung. 
While  eyes,  that  mocked  at  tears  before, 
With  bitter  di-ops  were  running  o'er. 
The  death-pangs  of  long-cherished  hope 
Scarce  in  that  ample  breast  had  scope. 
But,  struggling  with  his  spirit  proud. 
Convulsive  heaved  its  chequered  shroud, 
"While  every  sob — so  mute  were  all — 
Was  heard  distmctly  through  the  hall. 
The  son's  despair,  the  mother's  look, 
111  might  the  gentle  Ellen  brook  j 


CANTO  II.  THE  ISLAND.  89 

I 
She  rose,  and  to  her  side  there  came, 

To  aid  her  parting  steps,  the  Graeme. 


XXXIV. 

Then  Roderick  from  the  Douglas  broke — 

As  flashes  flame  through  sable  smoke, 

Kindling  its  wreaths,  long,  dark,  ahd  low. 

To  one  broad  blaze  of  ruddy  glow, 

So  the  deep  anguish  of  despair 

Burst,  in  fierce  jealousy,  to  air. 

With  stalwart  grasp  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm's  breast  and  belted  plaid  : 

"  Back,  beardless  boy  !"  he  sternly  said, 

"  Back,  minion  !  hold'st  thou  thus  at  naught 

The  lesson  I  so  lately  taught  ? 

This  roof,  the  Douglas,  and  that  maid. 

Thank  thou  for  piuiishment  delayed.'* — 

Eager  as  greyhound  on  his  game. 

Fiercely  with  Roderick  grappled  Gneme. 

"  Perish  my  name,  if  aught  afford 

Its  chieftain  safety,  save  his  sword  !" — 

6 


90         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  II. 

Thus  as  they  strove,  their  desperate  hand 

Griped  to  the  dagger  or  the  brand. 

And  death  had  been — but  Douglas  rose, 

And  thrust  between  the  struggling  foes 

His  giant  strength  : — "  Chieftains,  forego  f 

I  hold  the  first  who  strikes,  my  foe. — 

Madmen,  forbear  your  frantic  jar  ! 

What !  is  the  Douglas  fallen  so  far, 

His  daughter's  hand  is  deemed  the  spoil 

Of  such  dishonourable  broil !" — 

Sullen  and  slowly,  they  unclasp, 

As  struck  with  shame,  their  desperate  grasp, 

And  each  upon  his  rival  glared. 

With  foot  advanced,  and  blade  half  bared. 

XXXV. 

Ere  yet  the  brands  aloft  were  flung, 
Margaret  on  Roderick's  mantle  hung, 
And  Malcolm  heard  his  Ellen's  scream, 
As  faultered  through  terrific  dream. 


CANTO  IL  THE  ISLAND.  « 

Then  Roderick  plunged  in  sheath  his  sword. 
And  veiled  his  wrath  in  scornful  word. 
**  Rest  safe  till  morning ;  pity  'twere 
Such  cheek  should  feel  the  midnight  air  • 
Then  mayst  thou  to  James  Stuart  tell, 
Roderick  will  keep  the  lake  and  fell, 
Nor  lackey,  with  his  free-born  clan, 
The  pageant  pomp  of  earthly  man. 
More  would  he  of  Clan- Alpine  know, 
Thou  canst  our  strength  and  passes  show. — 
Malise,  what  ho  ?" — his  hench-man  came ; 
"  Give  our  safe  conduct  to  the  Graeme." — 
Young  Malcolm  answered,  calm  and  bold, 
**  Fear  nothing  for  thy  favourite  hold  ; 
The  spot,  an  angel  deigned  to  grace. 
Is  blessed,  though  robbers  haunt  the  place. 
Thy  churlish  courtesy  for  those 
Reserve,  who  fear  to  be  thy  foes. 
As  safe  to  me  the  mountain  way 
At  midnight,  as  in  blaze  of  day, 


92  THE  LAUV   OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  U. 

Thouffh  with  his  boldest  at  his  back, 
Even  Roderick  Dhu  beset  the  track. — 
Brave  Douglas, — lovely  Ellen, — nay. 
Nought  here  of  parting  will  I  say. 
Earth  does  not  hold  a  lonesome  glen. 
So  secret,  but  we  meet  agen.— 
Chieftain  !  we  too  shall  find  an  hour." — 
He  said,  and  left  the  sylvan  bower. 

XXXVI.     . 

Old  Allan  followed  to  the  strand, 
(Such  was  the  Douglas's  command,) 
And  anxious  told,  how,  on  the  morn, 
The  stern  Sir  Roderick  deep  had  sworn, 
The  Fieiy  Cross  should  circle  o'er 
Dale,  glen,  and  valley,  down,  and  moor. 
Much  were  the  peril  to  the  Graeme, 
From  those  who  to  the  signal  came ; 
Far  up  the  lake  'twere  safest  land, 
Himself  would  row  him  to  the  strand. 


CANTO  II.  THE   ISLAND.  ^r. 

He  gave  his  tounsel  to  the  wind, 

While  Malcohn  did,  unheeding,  bind, 

Round  dirk  and  pouch  and  broad-sword  rolled, 

His  ample  plaid  in  tightened  fold. 

And  stripped  his  limbs  to  such  array. 

As  best  might  suit  the  watery  way. 

XXXVII. 

Then  spoke  abrupt:  *'  Farewell  to  thee, 
Pattern  of  old  fidelity  !" — 
The  minstrel's  hand  he  kindly  pressed, — 
*'  O  !  could  I  point  a  place  of  rest ! 
My  sovereign  holds  in  ward  my  land. 
My  uncle  leads  my  vassal  band ; 
To  tame  his  foes,  his  friends  to  aid, 
Poor  Malcolm  has  but  heart  and  blade. 
Yet,  if  there  be  one  faithful  Graeme, 
Who  loves  the  Chieftain  of  his  name, 
Not  long  shall  honoured  Douglas  dwell, 
Like  hunted  stag  in  mountain  cell ; 


94        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.         CANTO  11. 

Nor,  ere  yon  pride-swollen  robber  dare, — 
I  may  not  give  the  rest  to  air  ! — 
Tell  Roderick  Dhu,  I  owed  him  nought, 
Not  the  poor  service  of  a  boat, 
To  waft  me  to  yon  mountain  side." — 
Then  plunged  he  in  the  flashing  tide. 
Bold  o'er  the  flood  his  head  he  bore. 
And  stoutly  steered  him  from  the  shore ; 
And  Allan  strained  his  anxious  eye, 
Far  'mid  the  lake  his  form  to  spy. 
Darkening  across  each  puny  wave. 
To  which  the  moon  her  silver  gave. 
Fast  as  the  cormorant  could  skim. 
The  swimmer  plied  each  active  limb ; 
Then  landing  in  the  moonhght  dell, 
Loud  shouted  of  his  weal  to  tell. 
The  Minstrel  heard  the  far  halloo, 
And  joyful  from  the  shore  withdrew. 

END  OF  CANTO  SECOND. 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  THIRD. 


'CSe  dDatgecing* 


{  Ui    \ 


'iUE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 


CANTO  THIRD. 


Cgc  (Bntijmnq, 


1 IME  roils  his  ceaseless  course.     Tlie  race  of  yore 

Who  danced  our  infancy  upon  their  knee, 
And  told  our  marvelling  boy-hood  legends  store, 

Of  their  strange  ventures  happ'd  by  land  or  sea, 
How  are  they  blotted  from  the  things  that  be  ! 

How  few,  all  weak  and  withered  of  their  force, 
Wait,  on  the  verge  of  dark  eternity, 

Like  stranded  wrecks,  the  tide  returning  hoarse. 
To  sweep  them  from  our  sight  !  Time  rolls  his  cease- 
less course. 

G 


98  THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.  CANTO  Ill- 

Yet  live  there  still  who  can  remember  well, 

How,  when  a  mountain  chief  his  bugle  blew, 
Both  field  and  forest,  dingle,  cliff,  and  dell. 

And  solitary  heath,  the  signal  knew  j 
And  fast  the  faithful  clan  around  him  drew, 

What  time  the  warning  note  was  keenly  wound, 
What  time  aloft  their  kindred  banner  flew, 

W^hile  clamorous  war-pipes  yelled  the  gathering 
sound, 
And  while  the  Fiery  Cross  glanced,  hke  a  meteor, 
round. 

II. 

The  summer  dawn's  reflected  hue 
To  purple  changed  Loch-Katrine  blue ; 
Mildly  and  soft  the  western  breeze 
Just  kissed  the  lake,  just  stirred  the  trees. 
And  the  pleased  lake,  like  maiden  coy, 
Trembled  but  dimpled  not  for  joy ; 
The  mountain  shadows  on  her  breast 
Were  neither  broken  nor  at  rest  j 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  99 

In  bright  uncertainty  they  lie, 

Like  future  joys  to  Fancy's  eye. 

The  water  hly  to  the  light 

Her  chalice  rear'd  of  silver  bright  j 

The  doe  awoke,  and  to  the  lawn. 

Begemmed  with  dew-drops,  led  her  fawn  ; 

The  grey  mist  left  the  mountain  side, 

The  torrent  shewed  its  glistening  pride  j 

Invisible  in  flecked  sky, 

The  lark  sent  down  her  revelry  ; 

The  black-bird  and  the  speckled  thrush 

Good -morrow  gave  from  brake  and  bush ; 

In  answer  cooed  the  cusliat  dove. 

Her  notes  of  peace,  and  rest,  and  love. 

III. 

No  thought  of  peace,  no  thought  of  rest, 
Assuaged  the  storm  in  Roderick's  breast. 
With  sheathed  broad-sword  in  his  hand, 
Abrupt  he  paced  the  islet  strand. 


100         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  HI. 

And  eyed  the  rising  sun,  and  laid 
His  band  on  his  impatient  blade. 
Beneath  a  rock,  his  vassals*  care 
Was  prompt  the  ritual  to  prepare, 
With  deep  and  deathful  meaning  fraught ; 
For  such  Antiquity  had  taught 
Was  preface  meet,  ere  yet  abroad 
The  Cross  of  Fire  should  take  its  road. 
The  shrinking  band  stood  oft  aghast 
At  the  impatient  glance  he  cast ; — 
Such  glance  the  mountain  eagle  threw, 
As,  from  the  cHffs  ot  Ben-venue, 
She  spread  her  dark  sails  on  the  wind. 
And,  high  in  middle  heaven  reclined, 
With  her  broad  shadow  on  the  lake, 
Silenced  the  warblers  of  the  brake. 

IV. 

A  heap  of  withered  boughs  was  piled, 
Of  jimiper  and  rowan  wild, 


CANTO  lU.  THE  GATHERING.  101 

Mingled  with  shivers  from  the  oak, 
Rent  by  the  hghtning's  recent  sti-oke. 
Brian,  the  Hermit,  by  it  stood, 
Bare-footed,  in  his  frock  and  hood. 
His  irrisled  beard  and  matted  hair 
Obscured  a  visage  of  despair  j 
His  naked  arms  and  legs,  seamed  o'er. 
The  scars  of  frantic  penance  bore. 
That  Monk,  of  savage  form  and  face, 
The  impending  danger  of  his  race 
Had  drawn  from  deepest  soHtude, 
Far  in  Benharrow's  bosom  rude. 
Not  his  the  mien  of  Christian  priest. 
But  Druid's,  from  the  grave  released, 
Whose  hardened  heart  and  eye  might  brook- 
On  human  sacrifice  to  look. 
And  much,  'twas  said,  of  heathen  lore 
ISIixed  in  the  charms  he  muttered  o'er ; 
The  hallowed  creed  gave  only  worse 
And  deadlier  emphasis  of  curse  ; 


102       THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  IH. 

No  peasant  sought  that  Hermit's  prayer, 
His  cave  the  pilgrim  shunned  with  care, 
The  eager  huntsman  knew  his  bound, 
And  in  mid  chase  called  off  his  hound; 
Or  if,  in  lonely  glen  or  strath, 
The  desert-dweller  met  his  path, 
He  prayed,  and  signed  the  cross  between, 
While  terror  took  devotion's  mien. 

V. 

Of  Brian's  birth  strange  tales  were  told. 
His  mother  watched  a  midnight  fold, 
Built  deep  within  a  dreary  glen. 
Where  scattered  lay  the  bones  of  men. 
In  some  forgotten  battle  slain, 
And  bleached  by  drifting  wind  and  rain. 
It  might  have  tamed  a  warrior's  heart, 
To  view  such  mockery  of  his  art ! 
The  knot-grass  fettered  there  the  hand. 
Which  once  could  burst  an  iron  band  ; 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  103 

Beneath  the  broad  and  ample  bone, 
That  bucklered  heart  to  fear  unknown, 
A  feeble  and  a  timorous  guest. 
The  field-fare  framed  her  lowly  nest ; 
There  the  slow  blind-worm  left  his  slime 
On  the  fleet  limbs  that  mocked  at  time  ; 
And  there,  too,  lay  the  leader's  skull. 
Still  wreathed  with  chaplet  flushed  and  full, 
For  heath-bell,  with  her  purple  bloom, 
Supplied  the  bonnet  and  the  plume. 
All  night,  in  this  sad  glen,  the  maid 
Sate,  shrouded  in  her  mantle's  shade : 
— She  said,  no  shepherd  sought  her  side, 
No  hunter's  hand  her  snood  untied. 
Yet  ne'er  again  to  braid  her  hair 
The  virgin  snood  did  Alice  wear ; 
Gone  was  her  maiden  glee  and  sport. 
Her  maiden  girdle  all  too  short. 
Nor  sought  she,  from  that  fatal  night, 
Or  holy  church  or  blessed  rite. 


iU4  uilt.    LAJ)V   OF  TIIL  LAKE.      CANTO  IH. 

But  locked  her  secret  in  her  breast. 
And  died  in  travail,  unconfessed. 

VI. 

Alone,  among  his  young  compeers, 
Was  Brian  from  his  infant  years ; 
A  moody  and  heart-broken  boy. 
Estranged  from  sympathy  and  joy, 
Bearinjy  each  taunt  which  careless  tongue 
On  his  mysterious  lineage  flung. 
Whole  nights  he  spent  by  moon-light  palcy 
To  wood  and  stream  his  hap  to  wail. 
Till,  frantic,  he  as  truth  received 
What  of  his  birth  the  crowd  believed. 
And  sought,  in  mist  and  meteor  fire. 
To  meet  and  know  his  Phantom  sire  ! 
In  vain,  to  sooth  his  wayward  fate. 
The  cloister  oped  her  pitying  gate  ; 
In  vain,  thel  earning  of  the  age 
Unclasped,  he  sable-lettered  page ; 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  10.=; 

Even  in  its  treasures  he  could  find 

Food  for  the  fever  of  his  mind. 

Eager  he  read  whatever  tells 

Of  magic,  cabala,  and  spells, 

And  every  dark  pursuit  allied 

To  curious  and  presumptuous  pride, 

Till,  with  fired  brain  and  nerves  o'erstruno-. 

And  heart  with  mystic  horrors  wrung. 

Desperate  he  sought  Benharrow's  den, 

And  hid  him  from  the  haunts  of  men^ 

VII. 

The  desert  gave  him  visions  wild, 
Such  as  might  suit  the  Spectre's  child. 
Where  with  black  cliffs  the  torrents  toil, 
He  watched  the  wheeling  eddies  boil, 
Till,  from  their  foam,  his  dazzled  eyes 
Beheld  the  river-dtemon  rise  ; 
The  mountain-mist  took  form  and  linih, 
Of  noontide  hag,  or  goblin  grim  ; 


106        THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  III, 

The  midnight  wind  came  wild  and  dread. 
Swelled  with  the  voices  of  the  dead  ; 
Far  on  the  future  battle-heath 
His  eye  beheld  the  ranks  of  death  : 
Thus  the  lone  seer,  from  mankind  hurled, 
Shaped  forth  a  disembodied  world. 
One  lingering  sympathy  of  mind 
Still  bound  him  to  the  mortal  kind ; 
The  only  parent  he  could  claim 
Of  ancient  Alpine's  lineage  came. 
Late  had  he  heard,  in  prophet's  dream, 
The  fatal  Ben-Shie's  boding  scream  ; 
Sounds,  too,  had  come  in  midnight  blast, 
Of  charging  steeds,  careering  fast 
Along  Benliarrow's  shingly  side, 
Where  mortal  horseman  ne'er  might  ride  j 
The  thunderbolt  had  spht  the  pine, — 
All  augur'd  ill  to  Alpine's  line. 
He  girt  his  loins,  and  came  to  show 
The  signals  of  impending  woe. 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  107 

And  now  stood  prompt  to  bless  or  ban, 
As  bade  the  Chieftain  of  his  clan. 

VIII. 

'Twas  all  prepared  ; — and  from  the  rock, 
A  goat,  the  patriarch  of  the  flock, 
Before  the  kindling  pile  was  laid, 
And  pierced  by  Roderick's  ready  blade. 
Patient  the  sickening  victim  eyed 
The  life-blood  ebb  in  crimson  tide, 
Down  his  clogged  beard  and  shaggy  limb, 
Till  darkness  glazed  his  eyeballs  dim. 
The  grisly  priest,  with  murmuring  prayer, 
A  slender  crosslet  framed  with  care, 
A  cubit's  length  in  measure  due  ; 
The  shaft  and  limbs  were  rods  of  yew. 
Whose  parents  in  Inch-Cailliach  wave 
Their  shadows  o'er  Clan- Alpine's  grave. 
And,  answering  Lomond's  breezes  deep, 
Sooth  many  a  chieftain's  endless  sleep. 


aOK        THE  LADY  OF  T1[K  LAKE.       CANTO  JII. 

The  Cross,  thus  formed,  he  held  on  high, 
With  wasted  h^nd  and  haggard  eye, 
And  strange  and  mingled  feelings  woke, 
While  his  anathema  he  spoke. 

IX. 

"  Woe  to  the  clans-man,  who  shall  view 
This  symbol  of  sepulchral  yew. 
Forgetful  that  its  branches  grew 
Where  weep  the  heavens  their  holiest  dew 

On  Alpine's  dwelling  low  I 
Deserter  of  his  Chieftain's  trust. 
He  ne'er  shall  mingle  with  their  dust, 
But,  from  his  sires  and  kindred  thrust. 
Each  clans-man's  execration  j  ust 

Shall  doom  him  wrath  and  woe.'* 
He  paused  ; — the  word  the  Vassals  took, 
With  forward  step  and  fiery  lock. 
On  high  their  naked  brands  they  shook. 
Their  clattering  targets  wildly  strook ; 

And  first,  in  murmur  low. 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  109 

Then,  like  the  billow  in  his  course, 
That  far  to  seaward  finds  his  source, 
And  flings  to  shore  his  mustered  force, 
Burst,  with  loud  roar,  their  answer  hoarse, 

*'  Woe  to  the  traitor,  woe  !" 
Ben-an's  grey  scalp  the  accents  knew. 
The  joyous  wolf  from  covert  drew. 
The  exulting  eagle  screamed  afar, — 
They  knew  the  voice  of  Alpine's  war. 

X. 

The  shout  was  hushed  on  lake  and  fell, 
The  Monk  resumed  his  muttered  spell. 
Dismal  and  low  its  accents  came. 
The  while  he  scathed  the  Cross  with  flame ; 
And  the  few  words  that  reached  the  air, 
Although  the  holiest  name  was  there, 
Had  more  of  blasphemy  than  prayer. 
But  when  he  shook  above  the  crowd 
Its  kindled  points,  he  spoke  aloud  :— 


no         THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.     CANTO  III. 

*'  Woe  to  the  wretch,  who  fails  to  rear 
At  this  dread  sign  the  ready  spear  ! 
For,  as  the  flames  this  symbol  sear, 
His  home  the  refuge  of  his  fear, 

A  kindred  fate  shall  know  j 
Far  o'er  its  roof  the  volumed  flame 
Clan- Alpine's  vengeance  shall  proclaim. 
While  maids  and  matrons  on  his  name 
Shall  call  down  wretchedness  and  shame. 

And  infamy  and  woe." — 
Then  rose  the  cry  of  females,  shrill 
As  goss-hawk's  whistle  on  the  hill. 
Denouncing  misery  and  ill. 
Mingled  with  childhood's  babbling  trill 

Of  curses  stammered  slow ; 
Answering,  with  imprecation  dread, 
*'  Sunk  be  his  home  in  embers  red  ! 
And  cursed  be  the  meanest  shed 
That  e'er  shall  hide  the  houseless  head, 

We  doom  to  want  and  woe !" 


CANTO  m.  THE  GATHERING.  Ill 

A  sharp  and  shrieking  echo  gave, 
Coir-Uriskin,  thy  gobHn  cave  ! 
And  the  grey  pass  where  birches  wave, 
On  Beala-nam-bo. 

XI. 

Then  deeper  paused  the  priest  anew, 
And  hard  his  labouring  breath  he  drew, 
While,  with  set  teeth  and  clenched  hand. 
And  eyes  that  glowed  like  fiery  brand. 
He  meditated  curse  more  dread, 
And  deadlier,  on  the  clansman's  head. 
Who,  summoned  to  his  Chieftain's  aid. 
The  signal  saw  and  disobeyed. 
The  crosslet's  points  of  sparkling  wood. 
He  quenched  auiong  the  bubbling  blood. 
And,  as  again  the  sign  he  reared, 
Hollow  and  hoarse  his  voice  was  heard  : 
"  When  flits  this  Cross  from  man  to  man, 
Vich- Alpine's  summons  to  his  clan, 


Hi         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  111. 

Burst  be  the  ear  that  fails  to  heed  ! 
Palsied  the  foot  that  shuns  to  speed  ! 
May  ravens  tear  the  careless  eyes, 
Wolves  make  the  coward  heai't  their  prize  ! 
As  sipks  that  blood-stream  in  the  earth, 
So  may  his  heart' s-blood  drench  his  hearth  ! 
As  dies  in  hissing  gore  tlic  spark, 
Quench  thou  his  hght,  Destruction  dark  ! 
And  be  the  grace  to  him  denied. 
Bought  by  this  sign  to  all  beside  !'* — 
He  ceased  :  no  echo  gave  agen 
The  murmur  of  the  deep  Amen. 

XII. 

Then  Roderick,  with  impatient  look, 

From  Brian's  hand  the  symbol  took : 

"  Speed,  Malise,  speed  !"  he  said,  and  gave 

The  crosslet  to  his  hench-man  brave. 

*'  The  muster-place  be  Lanric  mead — 

Instant  the  time — speed,  Malise,  speed  !" — . 


AMTOIir.  THE  GATHERING.  US 

Like  heath-bird,  when  the  hawks  pur^e, 

A  barge  across  Loch- Katrine  flew  j 

High  stood  the  hench-man  on  the  prow, 

So  rapidly  the  barge-men  row, 

The  bubbles,  where  they  launched  the  boat, 

Were  all  unbroken  and  afloat, 

Dancing  in  foam  and  ripple  still. 

When  it  had  neared  the  mainland  hill ; 

And  from  the  silver  beaches  side 

Still  was  the  prow  three  fatliom  wide,  , 

When  lightly  bounded  to  the  land. 

The  messenger  of  blood  and  brand. 

XIIL 

Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  the  dun  deer's  hide 
On  fleeter  foot  was  never  tied. 
Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  such  cause  of  haste 
Thine  active  sinews  never  braced. 
Bend  *gainst  the  steepy  hill  thy  breast, 
Burst  down  like  torrent  from  its  crest  j 

H 


114        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  IH- 

With  short  and  springing  footstep  pass 
The  trembling  bog  and  false  morass  ; 
Across  the  brook  like  roe-buck  bound, 
And  thread  the  brake  like  questing  hound  ; 
The  crag  is  high,  the  scaur  is  deep, 
Yet  shrink  not  from  the  desperate  leap  •, 
Parched  are  thy  burning  lips  and  brow, 
Yet  by  the  fountain  pause  not  now  j 
Herald  of  battle,  fate,  and  fear, 
Stretch  onward  in  thy  fleet  career  ! 
The  wounded  hind  thou  track'st  not  now, 
Pursuest  not  maid  through  greenwood  bough, 
Nor  pliest  thou  now  thy  flying  pace 
With  rivals  in  the  mountain  race ; 
But  danger,  death,  and  warrior  deed. 
Are  in  thy  course— Speed,  Malise,  speed  ! 

XIV. 

Fast  as  the  fatal  symbol  flies. 

In  arms  the  huts  and  hamlets  rise ; 


CANTO  m.  THE  GATHERING.  115 

From  winding  glen,  from  upland  brown, 

They  poured  each  hardy  tenant  down. 

Nor  slacked  the  messenger  his  pace  ; 

He  shewed  the  sign,  he  named  the  place, 

And,  pressing  forward  like  the  wind, 

Left  clamour  and  surprise  behind. 

The  fisherman  forsook  the  strand, 

The  swarthy  smith  took  dirk  and  brand ; 

With  changed  cheer,  the  mower  blithe 

Left  in  the  half-cut  swathe  his  scythe ; 

The  herds  without  a  keeper  strayed. 

The  plough  was  in  mid-furrow  staid. 

The  falc'ner  tossed  his  hawk  away, 

The  hunter  left  the  stag  at  bay  j 

Prompt  at  the  signal  of  alarms. 

Each  son  of  Alpine  rushed  to  arms  j  > 

So  swept  the  tumult  and  affray 

Along  the  margin  of  Achray. 

Alas,  thou  lovely  lake  !  that  e'er 

Thy  banks  should  echo  sounds  of  fear  ! 


IIG 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      ttANlTO  III- 


The  rocks,  the  bosky  thickets,  sleep 
So  stilly  on  thy  bosom  deep, 
The  lark's  blithe  carol  from  the  cloudy 
Seems  for  the  scene  too  gaily  loud. 


XV. 

Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  the  lake  is  past, 

Duncraggan's  huts  appear  at  last. 

And  peep,  like  moss-grown  rocks,  half  seen, 

Half  hidden  in  the  copse  so  green  ; 

There  may'st  thou  rest,  thy  labour  done. 

Their  Lord  shall  speed  the  signal  on. — 

As  stoops  the  hawk  upon  his  prey^ 

The  hench-man  shot  him  down  the  way. 

— What  woeful  accents  load  the  gale  ? 

The  funeral  yell^  the  female  wail ! 

A  gallant  hunter's  sport  is  o'er, 

A  valiant  warrior  fights  no  more. 

Who,  in  the  battle  or  the  chase. 

At  Roderick's  side  shall  fill  his  place  !^— 


GANTOIII.  THE  GATHERING.  117 

Within  the  hall,  where  torches'  ray 
Supplies  the  excluded  beams  of  day, 
Lies  Duncan  on  his  lowly  bier, 
And  o'er  him  streams  his  widow's  tear. 
His  stripling  son  stands  mournful  by, 
His  youngest  weeps,  but  knows  not  why  j 
The  village  maids  and  matrons  round 
The  dismal  coronach  *  resound. 

XVI. 

Cotenacgf 

He  is  gone  on  the  mountain, 

He  is  lost  to  the  forest. 
Like  a  sunmier-dried  fountain. 

When  our  need  was  the  sorest. 
The  font,  re-appearing. 

From  the  rain-di'ops  shall  borrow, 
But  to  us  comes  no  cheering. 

To  Duncan  no  morrow  ! 

*  Funeral  Song.    See  Note. 
4 


118       THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  HI. 

The  hand  of  the  reaper 

Takes  the  ears  that  are  hoary, 
But  the  voice  of  the  weeper 

Wails  manhood  in  glory; 
The  autumn  winds  rushing 

Waft  the  leaves  that  are  searest, 
But  our  flower  was  in  flushing, 

When  blighting  was  nearest. 

Fleet  foot  on  the  correi,  * 

Sage  counsel  in  cumber, 
Red  hand  in  the  foray. 

How  sound  is  thy  slumber  ! 
Like  the  dew  on  the  mountain. 

Like  the  foam  on  the  river. 
Like  the  bubble  on  the  fountain, 

Thou  art  gone  and  for  ever  ! 


«  Or  corri.   The  hollow  side  of  the  hill,  where  game  usually 
lies. 


GANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  119 

XVIL 

See  Stumah,  *  who,  the  bier  beside, 

His  master's  corpse  with  wonder  eyed, 

Poor  Stumah  !  whom  his  least  halloo 

Could  send  like  lightning  o'er  the  dew, 

Bristles  his  crest,  and  points  his  ears. 

As  if  some  stranger  step  he  hears. 

'Tis  not  a  mourner's  muffled  tread, 

Who  comes  to  sorrow  o'er  the  dead, 

But  headlong  haste,  or  deadly  fear, 

Urge  the  precipitate  career. 

All  stand  aghast : — unheeding  all, 

The  hench-maii  bursts  into  the  hall ; 

Before  the  dead  man's  bier  he  stood. 

Held  forth  the  Cross  besmeared  with  blood  ; 

"  The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead ; 

Speed  forth  the  signal  !  clansmen,  speed  !" 

*  Faithful.     The  name  of  a  dog. 


120        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  III. 

XVIII. 

Angus,  the  heir  of  Duncan's  line, 

Sprung  forth  and  seized  the  fatal  sign. 

In  haste  the  stripling  to  his  side 

His  father's  dirk  and  broad-sword  tied  ; 

But  when  he  saw  his  mother's  eye 

Watch  him  in  speechless  agony, 

Back  to  her  opened  arms  he  flew, 

Pressed  on  her  lips  a  fond  adieu — 

"  Alas  !"  she  sobbed,— «  and  yet  be  gone. 

And  speed  thee  forth,  like  Duncan's  son  !" 

One  look  he  cast  upon  the  bier, 
Dashed  from  his  eye  the  gathering  tear. 
Breathed  deep,  to  clear  his  labouring  breast. 
And  toss'd  aloft  his  bonnet  crest. 
Then,  like  the  high-bred  colt,  when  freed. 
First  he  essays  his  fire  and  speed, 
He  vanished,  and  o'er  moor  and  moss 
»Sped  forward  with  the  Fiery  Cross. 


CANTO  m.  THE  GATHERING.  121 

Suspended  was  the  widow's  tear. 

While  yet  his  footsteps  she  could  hear  ; 

And  when  she  marked  the  hench-man's  eye 

Wet  with  unwonted  sympathy, 

**  Kinsman,"  she  said,  "  his  race  is  run, 

That  should  have  sped  thine  errand  on  ; 

The  oak  has  fallen, — the  sapling  bough 

Is  all  Duncraggan*s  shelter  now. 

Yet  trust  I  well,  his  duty  done. 

The  orphan's  God  will  guard  my  son. — 

And  you,  in  many  a  danger  true. 

At  Duncan's  hest  your  blades  that  drew, 

To  arms,  and  guard  that  orphan's  head ! 

Let  babes  and  women  wail  the  dead." — 

Then  weapon-clang,  and  martial  call. 

Resounded  through  the  funeral  hall, 

While  from  the  walls  the  attendant  band 

Snatched  sword  and  targe,  with  hurried  hand ; 

And  short  and  flitting  energy 

Glanced  from  the  mourner's  sunken  eye, 


122         THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  III. 

As  if  the  sounds  to  warrior  dear 

Might  rouse  her  Duncan  from  his  bier. 

But  faded  soon  that  borrowed  force ; 

Grief  claimed  his  right,  and  tears  their  course. 

XIX. 

Benledi  saw  the  Cross  of  Fire, 
It  glanced  like  lightning  up  Strath-Ire. 
0*er  dale  and  hill  the  summons  flew, 
Nor  rest  nor  pause  young  Angus  knew  ; 
The  tear,  that  gathered  in  his  eye. 
He  left  the  mountain  breeze  to  dry ; 
Until,  where  Teith's  young  waters  roll. 
Betwixt  him  and  a  wooded  knoll. 
That  graced  the  sable  strath  with  green. 
The  chapel  of  Saint  Bride  was  seen. 
Swoln  was  the  stream,  remote  the  bridge. 
But  Angus  paused  not  on  the  edge  ; 
Though  the  dark  waves  danced  dizzily, 
Though  reeled  his  sympathetic  eye. 


CANTO  in.  THE  GATHERING.  123 

He  dashed  amid  the  torrent's  roar  ; 
His  right  hand  high  the  crosslet  bore, 
His  left  the  pole-axe  grasped,  to  guide 
And  stay  his  footing  in  the  tide. 
He  stumbled  twice — the  foam  splashed  high. 
With  hoarser  swell  the  stream  raced  by ; 
And  had  he  fallen, — forever  there. 
Farewell,  Duncraggan's  orphan  heir  ! 
But  still,  as  if  in  parting  life, 
Firmer  he  grasped  the  Cross  of  strife, 
Until  the  opposing  bank  he  gained. 
And  up  the  chapel  path-way  strained. 

XX. 

A  blithsome  rout,  that  morning  tide, 
Had  sought  the  chapel  of  Saint  Bride. 
Her  troth  Tombea's  Mary  gave 
To  Norman,  heir  of  Armandave, 
And,  issuing  from  the  Gothic  arch. 
The  bridal  now  resumed  their  march. 


124        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  ill. 

In  rude,  but  glad  procession,  came 
Bonnetted  sire  and  coif-clad  dame ; 
And  plaided  youth,  with  jest  and  jeer, 
Which  snooded  maiden  would  not  hear  ; 
And  children,  that,  unwitting  why, 
Lent  the  gay  shout  their  shrilly  cry  j 
And  minstrels,  that  in  measures  vied 
Before  the  young  and  bonny  bride. 
Whose  downcast  eye  and  cheek  disclose 
The  tear  and  blush  of  morning  rose. 
.With  virgin  step,  and  bashful  hand, 
She  held  the  kerchiePs  snowy  band  j 
The  gallant  bridegroom,  b}'  her  side, 
Beheld  his  prize  with  victor's  pride, 
And  the  glad  mother  in  her  ear 
Was  closely  whispering  word  of  cheer. 

XXI. 

Who  meets  them  at  the  church-yard  gate  irrrr 
The  messenger  of  fear  and  fate  I 


CANTO  HI.  THE  GATHERING.  125 

Haste  in  his  hurried  accent  lies, 

And  grief  is  swimming  in  his  eyes. 

All  dripping  from  the  recent  flood, 

Panting  and  travel-soiled  he  stood, 

The  fatal  sign  of  fire  and  sword 

Held  forth,  and  spoke  the  appointed  word ; 

**  The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead. 

Speed  forth  the  signal  !  Norman,  speed  !" — 

And  must  he  change  so  soon  the  hand. 

Just  linked  to  his  by  holy  band, 

For  the  fell  Cross  of  blood  and  brand  ? 

And  must  the  day,  so  blithe  that  rose, 

And  promised  rapture  in  the  close. 

Before  its  setting  hour,  divide 

The  bridegroom  from  the  plighted  bride  ? 

O  fatal  doom  ! — it  must !  it  must ! 

Clan-Alpine's  cause,  her  Chieftain's  trust. 

Her  summons  dread,  brooks  no  delaj'^ ; 

Stretch  to  the  race — awav  !  away  ! 


126         THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  III 

XXII. 

Yet  slow  he  laid  his  plaid  aside, 

And,  lingering,  eyed  his  lovely  bride, 

Until  he  saw  the  starting  tear 

Speak  woe  he  might  not  stop  to  cheer ; 

Then,  trusting  not  a  second  look, 

In  haste  he  sped  him  up  the  brook, 

Nor  backward  glanced  till  on  the  heath 

Where  Lubnaig's  lake  supplies  the  Teith. 

— What  in  the  racer's  bosom  stirred  ? 

The  sickening  pang  of  hope  deferred. 

And  memory,  with  a  torturing  train 

Of  all  his  morning  visions  vain. 

Mingled  with  love's  impatience,  came 

The  manly  thirst  for  martial  fame ; 

The  stormy  joy  of  mountaineers, 

Ere  yet  they  rush  upon  the  spears  ; 

And  zeal  for  clan  and  chieftain  burning. 

And  hope,  from  well-ibught  field  returning. 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  127 

With  war's  red  honours  on  his  crest, 

To  clasp  his  Mary  to  his  breast. 

Stung  by  such  thoughts,  o'er  bank  and  brae, 

Like  fire  from  flint  he  glanced  away, 

While  high  resolve,  and  feehng  strong. 

Burst  into  voluntary  song. 

XXIIL 

The  heath  this  night  must  be  my  bed, 
The  bracken  *  curtain  for  my  head. 
My  lullaby  the  warder's  tread. 

Far,  far,  from  love  and  thee,  Mary ; 
To-morrow  eve,  more  stilly  laid. 
My  couch  may  be  my  bloody  plaid. 
My  vesper  song,  thy  wail,  sweet  maid  ! 

It  will  not  waken  me,  Mary  ! 

*  Bracken.    Fern. 


128  THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CAtfXO  IH. 

I  may  not,  dare  not,  fancy  now 

The  grief  that  clouds  thy  lovely  brow, 

I  dare  not  think  upon  thy  vow, 

And  all  it  promised  me,  Mary. 
No  fond  regret  must  Norman  know  j 
When  bursts  Clan- Alpine  on  the  foe. 
His  heart  must  be  hke  bended  bow. 

His  foot  like  arrow  free,  Mary. 

A  time  will  come  with  feeling  fraught  ! 
For,  if  I  fall  in  battle  fought, 
Thy  hapless  lover's  dying  thought 

Shall  be  a  thought  on  thee,  Mary. 
And  if  returned  from  conquered  foes, 
How  blithely  will  the  evening  dose. 
How  sweet  the  linnet  sing  repose. 

To  my  young  bride  and  me,  Mary  ! 

XXIV. 

Not  faster  o'er  thy  heathery  braes, 
Balquidder,  speeds  the  midnight  blaze, 


CANTO  m.  THE  GATHERING,  J^'^ 

Rushing,  in  conflagration  strong. 
Thy  deep  ravines  and  dells  along, 
Wrapping  thy  cliffs  in  purple  glow, 
And  reddening  the  dark  lakes  below ; 
Nor  faster  speeds  it,  nor  so  far, 
As  o'er  thy  heaths  the  voice  of  war- 
The  signal  roused  to  martial  coil 
The  sullen  margin  of  Loch-Voil, 
Waked  still  Loch-Doine,  and  to  the  source 
Alarmed,  Balvaig,  thy  swampy  course  ; 
Thence  southward  turned  its  rapid  road 
Adown  Strath-Gartney's  valley  broad. 
Till  rose  in  arms  each  man  might  claim 
A  portion  in  Clan-Alpine*s  name ; 
From  the  grey  sire,  whose  trembling  hand 
Could  hardly  buckle  on  his  brand, 
To  the  raw  boy,  whose  shaft  and  bow . 
Were  yet  scarce  terror  to  the  crow. 
Each  valley,  each  sequestered  glen, 
Mustered  its  little  horde  of  men, 

I 


130        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  III. 

That  met  as  torrents  from  the  height 

In  Highland  dale  their  streams  unite, 

Still  gathering,  as  they  pour  along, 

A  voice  more  loud,  a  tide  more  strong. 

Till  at  the  rendezvous  they  stood 

By  hundreds  prompt  for  blows  and  blood  5 

Each  trained  to  arms  since  life  began. 

Owning  no  tie  but  to  his  clan, 

No  oath,  but  by  his  Chieftain's  hand. 

No  law,  but  Roderick  Dhu's  command. 

XXV. 

That  summer  morn  had  Roderick  Dhu 
Surveyed  the  skirts  of  Benvenue, 
And  sent  his  scouts  o'er  hill  and  heath. 
To  view  the  fi'ontiers  of  Menteith. 
All  backward  came  with  news  of  ti*uce ; 
Still  lay  each  martial  Graeme  and  Bruce, 
In  Rednock  courts  no  horsemen  wait. 
No  banner  waved  on  Cardross  gate. 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  ISl 

On  Duchray's  towers  no  beacon  shone. 

Nor  scared  the  herons  from  Loch-Con ; 

All  seemed  at  peace. — Now,  wot  ye  why 

The  Chieftain,  with  such  anxious  eye, 

Ere  to  the  muster  he  repair, 

This  western  frontier  scanned  with  care  ?— 

In  Benvenue*s  most  darksome  cleft, 

A  fair,  though  cruel,  pledge  was  left  5 

For  Douglas,  to  his  promise  true, 

That  morning  from  the  isle  withdrew, 

And  in  a  deep  sequestered  dell 

Had  sought  a  low  and  lonely  cell. 

By  many  a  bard,  in  Celtic  tongue. 

Has  Coir-nan- Uriskin  been  sung; 

A  softer  name  the  Saxons  gave, 

And  called  the  grot  the  Gobhn-cave. 

XXVI. 

It  was  a  wild  and  strange  retreat. 
As  e'er  was  trod  by  outlaw's  feet. 


132         THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.     CANTO  HI. 

The  dell,  upon  the  mountain's  crest, 
Yawned  like  a  gash  on  warrior's  breast ; 
Its  trench  had  staid  full  many  a  rock, 
Hurled  by  primaeval  earthquake  shock 
From  Benvenue's  grey  summit  wild, 
And  here,  in  random  ruin  piled, 
They  frowned  incumbent  o'er  the  spot, 
And  formed  the  rugged  sylvan  grot. 
The  oak  and  birch,  with  mingled  shade, 
At  noontide  there  a  twilight  made, 
Unless  when  short  and  sudden  shone 
Some  straggling  beam  on  cUfF  or  stone. 
With  such  a  glimpse  as  prophet's  eye 
Gains  on  thy  depth.  Futurity. 
No  murmur  waked  the  solemn  still, 
Save  tinkling  of  a  fountain  rill ; 
But  when  the  wind  chafed  with  the  lake, 
A  sullen  sound  would  upward  break. 
With  dashing  hollow  voice,  that  spoke 
The  incessant  war  of  wave  and  rock. 


GANTOIir.  THE  GATHERING.  333 

Suspended  cliffs,  with  hideous  sway. 
Seemed  nodding  o'er  the  cavern  grey. 
From  such  a  den  the  wolf  had  sprung, 
In  such  the  wild  cat  leaves  her  young ; 
Yet  Douglas  and  his  daughter  fair 

Sought  for  a  space  their  safety  there. 

Grey  Superstition's  whisper  dread 

Debarred  the  spot  to  vulgar  tread  ; 

For  there,  she  said,  did  fays  resort, 

And  satyrs  *  hold  their  sylvan  court, 

By  moon-light  tread  their  mystic  maze. 

And  blast  the  rash  beholder's  gaze. 

XXVII. 

Now  eve,  with  western  shadows  long, 
Floated  on  Katrine  bright  and  strong, 
When  Roderick,  with  a  chosen  few, 
Repassed  the  heights  of  Benvenue. 
Above  the  Goblin-cave  they  go, 
Through  the  wild  pass  of  Beal-nam-Bo  ; 

*  The  Urhk,  or  Highland  '^atvr.     Set'  Note. 


1S4        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  III 


The  prompt  retainers  speed  before, 

To  launch  the  shallop  from  the  shore, 

For  cross  Loch- Katrine  lies  his  way 

To  view  the  passes  of  Achray, 

And  place  his  clansmen  in  array. 

Yet  lags  the  Chief  in  musing  mind, 

Unwonted  sight,  his  men  behind. 

A  single  page,  to  bear  his  sword, 

Alone  attended  on  his  lord ; 

The  rest  their  way  through  thickets  break, 

And  soon  await  him  by  the  lake. 

It  was  a  fair  and  gallant  sight. 

To  view  them  from  the  neighbouring  height, 

By  the  low-levelled  sun-beam's  light ; 

For  strength  and  stature,  from  the  clan 

Each  warrior  was  a  chosen  man, 

As  even  afar  might  well  be  seen, 

By  their  proud  step  and  martial  mien. 

Their  feathers  dance,  their  tartans  float, 

Their  targets  gleam,  as  by  the  boat 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  1S5 

A  wild  and  warlike  group  they  stand, 
That  well  became  such  mountain  strand. 

XXVIII. 

Their  Chief,  with  step  reluctant,  stiU. 
Was  lingering  on  the  craggy  hill, 
Hard  by  where  turned  apart  the  road 
To  Douglas's  obscure  abode. 
It  was  but  with  that  dawning  morn 
That  Roderick  Dhu  had  proudly  sworn, 
To  drown  his  love  in  war's  wild  roar, 
Nor  think  of  Ellen  Douglas  more  ; 
But  he  who  stems  a  stream  with  sand, 
And  fetters  flame  with  flaxen  band. 
Has  yet  a  harder  task  to  prove — 
By  firm  resolve  to  conquer  love  ! 
Eve  finds  the  Chief,  like  restless  ghost. 
Still  hovering  near  his  treasure  lost  j 
For  though  his  haughty  heart  deny 
A  parting  meeting  to  his  eye, 


lie        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.     CANTO  m 

Still  fondly  strains  his  anxious  ear,  v 

The  accents  of  her  voice  to  hear, 

And  inly  did  he  curse  the  breeze 

That  waked  to  sound  the  rustling  trees. 

But,  hark  !  what  mingles  in  the  strain  ? — 

It  is  the  hai-p  of  Allan-bane, 

That  wakes  its  measures  slow  and  high, 

Attuned  to  sacred  minstrelsy. 

What  melting  voice  attends  the  strings  ? 

'Tis  Ellen,  or  an  angel,  sings. 

XXIX. 

I^jjinti  to  tge  cairgwu 

Ave  Maria  I  maiden  mild  ! 

Listen  to  a  maiden's  prayer  ; 
Thou  canst  hear  though  from  the  wild, 

Thou  canst  save  amid  despair. 
Safe  may  we  sleep  beneath  thy  care. 

Though  banished,  outcast,  and  reviled— 

Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden's  grayer  ; 

Mother,  hear  a  suppliant  child  ! 

J  ve  Maria 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  137 

Ave  Maria  /  undefiled  ! 

The  flinty  couch  we  now  must  share, 
Shall  seem  with  down  of  eider  piled, 

If  thy  protection  hover  there. 
The  murky  cavern's  heavy  air 

Shall  breathe  of  balm  if  thou  hast  smiled ;  i 
Then,  Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden's  prayer, 

Mother,  list  a  suppliant  child  ! 

Ave  Maria  i 

Ave  Maria !  Stainless  styled  i 

Foul  daemons  of  the  earth  and  air, 
From  this  their  wonted  haunt  exiled, 

Shall  flee  before  thy  presence  fair. 
We  bow  us  to  our  lot  of  care. 

Beneath  thy  guidance  reconciled ; 
Hear  for  a  maid  a  maiden's  prayer, 

And  for  a  father  hear  a  child  ! 

Ave  Maria! 


1S8        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.     CANTO  III. 

XXX. 

Died  on  the  harp  the  closing  hymn- 
Unmoved  in  attitude  and  limb, 
As  listening  still,  Clan- Alpine's  lord 
Stood  leaning  on  his  heavy  sword. 
Until  the  page,  with  humble  sign. 
Twice  pointed  to  the  sun's  decline. 
Then,  while  his  plaid  he  round  him  cast, 
**  It  is  the  last  time — 'tis  the  last," — 
He  muttered  thrice, — "  the  last  time  e'er 
That  angel-voice  shall  Roderick  hear  !"— 
It  was  a  goading  thought — his  stride 
Hied  hastier  down  the  mountain  side  ; 
Sullen  he  flung  him  in  the  boat, 
And  instant  cross  the  lake  it  shot. 
They  landed  in  that  silvery  bay. 
And  eastward  held  their  hasty  way. 
Till,  with  the  latest  beams  of  light, 
The  band  arrived  on  Lanrick  height, 


CANTO  III.  THE  GATHERING.  159 

Where  mustered  in  the  vale  below. 
Clan- Alpine's  men  in  martial  show. 

XXXI. 

A  various  scene  the  clansmen  made, 
Some  sate,  some  stood,  some  slowly  strayed  i 
But  most,  with  mantles  folded  round, 
Were  couched  to  rest  upon  the  ground, 
Scarce  to  be  known  by  curious  eye. 
From  the  deep  heather  where  they  lie. 
So  well  was  matched  the  tartan  screen 
With  heath-bell  dark  and  brackens  green  ; 
Unless  where,  here  and  there,  a  blade. 
Or  lance's  point,  a  glimmer  made, 
Like  glow-worm  twinkling  through  the  shade. 
But,  when,  advancing  through  the  gloom, 
They  saw  the  Chieftain's  eagle  plume. 
Their  shout  of  welcome,  shrill  and  wide, 
Shook  the  steep  mountain's  steady  side. 

s 


140         THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  111. 

Thrice  it  arose,  and  lake  and  fell 
Three  times  returned  the  martial  yell. 
It  died  upon  Bochastle's  plain. 
And  Silence  claimed  her  evening  reign. 

END  OF  CANTO  THIRD. 


TSCE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  FOURTH. 


'^ge  pto{)Berp* 


THE 

LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 

CANTO  FOURTH. 

I. 

1  HE  rose  is  fairest  when  'tis  budding  new, 

And  hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns  from  fears ; 
The  rose  is  sweetest  washed  with  morning  dew. 

And  love  is  loveHest  when  embalmed  in  tears. 
O  wilding  rose,  whom  fancy  thus  endears, 

I  bid  your  blossoms  in  my  bonnet  wave, 
Emblem  of  hope  and  love  through  future  years  !" 

Thus  spoke  young  Norman,  heir  of  Armandave, 
What  time  the  sun  arose  on  Vennachar's  broad  wave. 


144 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  IV, 


IL 

Such  fond  conceit,  half  said,  half  sung, 

Love  prompted  to  the  bridegi'oom's  tongue. 

All  while  he  stripped  the  wild-rose  spray. 

His  axe  and  bow  beside  him  lay, 

For  on  a  pass  'twixt  lake  and  wood, 

A  wakeful  sentinel  he  stood. 

Hark  ! — on  the  rock  a  footstep  rung, 

And  instant  to  his  arms  he  sprung. 

*<  Stand,  or  thou  diest ! — What,  Mahse  ? — soon 

Art  thou  returned  from  Braes  of  Doune. 

By  thy  keen  step  and  glance  I  know. 

Thou  bring' st  us  tidings  of  the  foe.'* — 

(For  while  the  Fiery  Cross  hied  on. 

On  distant  scout  had  Malise  gone.) 

"  Where  sleeps  the  Chief?"  the  hench-man  said. 

"  Apart,  in  yonder  misty  glade  ; 

To  his  lone  couch  I'll  be  your  guide." — 

Then  called  a  slumberer  by  his  side, 


6 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  145 

And  stirred  him  with  his  slackened  bow— 
**  Up,  up,  Glentarkin  !  rouse  thee,  ho  ! 
We  seek  the  Chieftain  ;  on  the  track, 
Keep  eagle  watch  till  I  come  back."— - 

III. 

Together  up  the  pass  they  sped : 

**  What  of  the  foeman  ?"  Norman  said.— 

*'  Varying  reports  from  near  and  far  ; 

This  certain, — that  a  band  of  war 

Has  for  two  days  been  ready  boune, 

At  prompt  command,  to  march  from  Doune  ; 

King  James,  the  while,  with  princely  powers. 

Holds  revelry  in  Stirhng  towers. 

Soon  will  this  dark  and  gathering  cloud 

Speak  on  our  glens  in  thunder  loud. 

Inured  to  bide  such  bitter  bout, 

The  warrior's  plaid  may  bear  it  out ; 

But,  Norman,  how  wilt  thou  provide 

A  shelter  for  thy  bonny  bride  ?" — 


146        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  IV. 

"  What !  know  ye  not  that  Roderick's  care 

To  the  lone  isle  hath  caused  repair 

Each  maid  and  matron  of  the  clan, 

And  every  child  and  aged  man 

Unfit  for  arms  ?  and  given  his  charge, 

Nor  skiff  nor  shallop,  boat  nor  barge, 

Upon  these  lakes  shall  float  at  large. 

But  all  beside  the  islet  moor. 

That  such  dear  pledge  may  rest  secure  ?'*— 

IV. 

"  'Tis  well  advised — the  Chieftain's  plan 

Bespeaks  the  father  of  his  clan. 

But  wherefore  sleeps  Sir  Roderick  Dhu 

Apart  from  all  his  followers  true  ?" — 

*'  It  is,  because  last  evening- tide 

Brian  an  augury  hath  tried. 

Of  that  dread  kind  which  must  not  be 

Unless  in  dread  extremity, 

The  Taghairm  called  ;  by  which,  afar, 

Our  sires  foresaw  the  events  of  war. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  147 

Duncraggan's  milk-white  bull  they  slew." — 

MALISE. 

*<  Ah  !  well  the  gallant  brute  I  knew, 

The  choicest  of  the  prey  we  had, 

When  swept  our  niorry-men  Gallangad. 

His  hide  was  snow,  his  horns  were  dark, 

His  red  eye  glowed  like  fiery  spark  ; 

So  fierce,  so  tameless,  and  so  fleet, 

Sore  did  he  cumber  our  retreat, 

And  kept  our  stoutest  kernes  in  awe. 

Even  at  the  pass  of  Beal  'maha. 

But  steep  and  flinty  was  the  road. 

And  shaip  the  hurrying  pikeman*s  goad, 

And  when  we  came  to  Dennan*s  Row, 

A  child  might  scatheless  stroke  his  brow." — 

V. 

NORMAN. 

"  That  bull  was  slain  :  his  reeking  hide 
They  stretched  the  cataract  beside, 


148       THE   LADY   OF  THE    LAKE.        CANTO  IV. 

Whoso  waters  their  wild  tumult  toss 
Adown  the  black  and  craggy  boss 
Of  that  huge  cliff",  whose  ample  verge 
Tradition  calls  the  Hero's  Targe. 
Couched  on  a  shelve  beneath  its  brink, 
Close  where  the  thundering  torrents  sink, 
Rocking  beneath  their  headlong  sway. 
And  drizzled  by  the  ceaseless  spray, 
Midst  groan  of  rock,  and  roar  of  stream, 
The  wizard  waits  prophetic  dream. 
Nor  distant  rests  the  Chief; — but  hush  ! 
See  gliding  slow  through  mist  and  bush, 
The  Hermit  gains  yon  rock,  and  stands 
To  gaze  upon  our  slumbering  bands. 
Seems  he  not,  Malise,  like  a  ghost. 
That  hovers  o'er  a  slautjhtered  host  ? 
Or  raven  on  the  blasted  oak. 
That,  watching  while  the  deer  is  broke,* 
His  morsel  claims  with  sullen  croak  ?" 

.    *  Quartered.    See  Note. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  149 

— *'  Peace  !  peace  !  to  other  than  to  me, 

Thy  words  were  evil  augury  ; 

But  still  I  hold  Sir  Roderick's  blade 

Clan- Alpine's  omen  and  her  aid, 

Not  aught  that,  gleaned  from  heaven  or  hell, 

Yon  fiend-begotten  monk  can  tell. 

The  Chieftain  joins  hira^  see — and  now. 

Together  they  descend  the  brow." — 

VI. 

And,  as  they  came,  with  Alpine's  Lord 
The  Hermit  Monk  held  solemn  word  : 
*'  Roderick  !  it  is  a  fearful  strife, 
For  man  endowed  with  mortal  life. 
Whose  shroud  of  sentient  clay  can  still 
Feel  feverish  pang  and  fainting  chill, 
Whose  eye  can  stare  in  stony  trance. 
Whose  hair  can  rouse  like  warrior's  lance,— 
'Tis  hard  for  such  to  view,  unfurl'd, 
The  curtain  of  the  future  world. 


150         THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  IV- 

Yet,  witness  every  quaking  b'mb, 

My  sunken  pulse,  mine  eye-balls  dim, 

My  soul  with  harrowing  anguish  torn. 

This  for  my  Chieftain  have  I  borne  !— - 

The  shapes  that  sought  my  fearful  couch, 

An  human  tongue  may  ne'er  avouch ; 

No  mortal  man, — save  he,  who,  bred 

Between  the  living  and  the  dead, 

Is  gifted  beyond  nature's  law, — 

Had  e'er  survived  to  say  he  saw. 

At  length  the  fateful  answer  came, 

In  characters  of  living  flame  ! 

Not  spoke  in  word,  nor  blazed  in  scroll. 

But  borne  and  branded  on  my  soul; — 

Which  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life, 

That  party  conquers  in  the  strife." 

VII. 

*'  Thanks,  Brian,  for  thy  zeal  and  care  ! 
Good  is  thine  augury,  and  fair. 

3 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  ^^^ 

CJ an- Alpine  ne'er  in  battle  stood, 
But  first  our  broad-swords  tasted  blood. 
A  surer  victim  still  I  know, 
Self-offered  to  the  auspicious  blow : 
A  spy  has  sought  my  land  this  morn, — 
No  eve  shall  witness  his  return  ! 
My  followers  guard  each  pass's  mouth, 
To  east,  to  westward,  and  to  south  ; 
Red  Murdoch,  bribed  to  be  his  guide, 
Has  charge  to  lead  his  steps  aside, 
Till,  in  deep  path  or  dingle  brown, 
He  hght  on  those  shall  bring  him  down. 
— But  see,  who  comes  his  news  to  show  ! 
Malise  !  what  tidings  of  the  foe  ?" — 

VIII. 

''  At  Doune,  o'er  many  a  spear  and  glaive. 
Two  Barons  proud  their  banners  wave. 
I  saw  the  Moray's  silver  star, 
And  marked  the  sable  pale  of  Mar." — 


152        THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.      CANTO  IV 

**  By  Alpine's  soul,  high  tidings  those  ! 

I  love  to  hear  of  worthy  foes^ 

When  move  they  on  ?'* — '*  To-morrow's  noon 

Will  see  them  here  for  battle  boune." 

**  Then  shall  it  see  a  meeting  stern ! — 

But,  for  the  place — say,  couldst  thou  learn 

Nought  of  the  friendly  clans  of  Earn  ? 

Strengthened  by  them  we  well  might  bide 

The  battle  on  Benledi's  side. 

Thou  couldst  not  ? — well !  Clan-Alpine's  men 

Shall  man  the  Trosach's  shaggy  glen ; 

Within  Loch-Katrine*s  gorge  we'll  fight. 

All  in  our  maids'  and  matrons'  sight, 

Each  for  his  hearth  and  household  fire, 

Father  for  child,  and  son  for  sire, — 

Lover  for  maid  beloved  ! — but  why — 

Is  it  the  breeze  affects  mine  eye  ? 

Or  dost  thou  come,  ill-omcn'd  tear  i 

A  messenger  of  doubt  or  fear  ? 

No  !  sooner  may  the  Saxon  lance 

Unfix  Benledi  from  his  stance, 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  153 

Than  doubt  or  terror  can  pierce  through 
The  unyielding  heart  of  Roderick  Dhu  ; 
'Tis  stubborn  as  his  trusty  targe. — 
Each  to  his  post ! — all  know  their  charge." — 
The  pibroch  sounds,  the  bands  advance, 
The  broad-swords  gleam,  the  banners  dance, 
Obedient  to  the  Chieftain's  glance. 
— I  turn  me  from  the  martial  roar. 
And  seek  Coii*-Uriskin  once  more. 

IX. 

Where  is  the  Douglas  ? — he  is  gone  ; 
And  Ellen  sits  on  the  grey  stone 
Fast  by  the  cave,  and  makes  her  moan  ; 
While  vainly  Allan's  words  of  cheer 
Are  poured  on  her  unheeding  ear. — 
**  He  will  return — Dear  lady,  trust ! — 
With  joy  return  j — he  will — he  must. 
Well  was  it  time  to  seek  afar, 
Some  refuge  from  impending  war. 


154         THE    LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.     CANTO  IV. 

When  e'en  Clan-Alpine's  rugged  swarm 
Are  cow'd  by  the  approaching  storm' 
I  saw  their  boats,  with  many  a  light, 
Floating  the  live-long  yesternight. 
Shifting  like  flashes  darted  forth 
By  the  red  streamers  of  the  north  ; 
I  marked  at  morn  how  close  they  ride, 
Thick  moored  by  the  lone  islet's  side, 
Like  wild  ducks  couching  in  the  fen. 
When  stoops  the  haAvk  upon  the  glen. 
Since  this  rude  race  dare  not  abide 
The  peril  on  the  main-land  side. 
Shall  not  thy  noble  father's  care 
Some  safe  retreat  for  thee  prepare  ?" — 

X. 

ELLEN. 

*'  Ko,  Allan,  no  !  Pretext  so  kind 
My  wakeful  terrors  could  not  blind. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  155 

When  in  such  tender  tone,  yet  grave, 
Douglas  a  parting  blessing  gave, 
The  tear  that  glistened  in  his  eye 
Drowned  not  his  purpose  fixed  and  high. 
My  soul,  though  feminine  and  weak. 
Can  image  his  j  e'en  as  the  lake, 
Itself  distm'bed  by  slightest  stroke, 
Reflects  the  invulnerable  rock. 
He  hears  reports  of  battle  rife, 
He  deems  himself  the  cause  of  strife, 
I  saw  him  redden,  when  the  theme 
Turned,  Allan,  on  thine  idle  dream, 
Of  Malcohn  Graeme  in  fetters  bound. 
Which  I,  thou  said*st,  about  him  wound. 
Think' st  thou  he  trow'd  thine  omen  aught  ? 
Oh  no  !  'twas  apprehensive  thought 
For  the  kind  youth, — for  Roderick  too — 
(Let  me  be  just)  that  friend  so  true ; 
In  danger  both,  and  in  our  cause  ! 
Minstrel,  the  Douglas  dare  not  pause. 


156       THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  IV. 

Why  else  that  solemn  warning  given, 
*  If  not  on  earth,  we  meet  in  heaven  ?' 
Why  else,  to  Cambus-kenneth*s  fane, 
If  eve  return  him  not  again. 
Am  I  to  hie  and  make  me  known  ? 
Alas  !  he  goes  to  Scotland's  throne, 
Buys  his  friends'  safety  with  his  own  j — 
He  goes  to  do — what  I  had  done, 
Had  Douglas'  daughter  been  his  son  !'* — 

XI. 

**  Nay,  lovely  Ellen  ! — dearest,  nay  ! 
If  aught  should  his  return  delay, 
He  only  named  yon  holy  fane 
As  fitting  place  to  meet  again. 
Be  sure  he's  safe  ;  and  for  the  Graeme, — 
Heaven's  blessing  on  his  gallant  name  ! — 
My  visioned  sight  may  yet  prove  true. 
Nor  bode  of  ill  to  him  or  you. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  157 

When  did  my  gifted  dream  beguile  ? 
Think  of  the  stranger  at  the  isle, 
And  think  upon  the  harpings  slow, 
That  presaged  this  approaching  woe  ! 
Sooth  was  my  prophecy  of  fear  ; 
Believe  it  when  it  augurs  cheer. 
Would  we  had  left  this  dismal  spot ! 
Ill  luck  still  haunts  a  fairy  grot. 
Of  such  a  wond'rous  tale  I  know — 
Dear  lady,  change  that  look  of  woe  ! 
My  harp  was  wont  thy  grief  to  cheer."— 

ELLEN. 

"  Well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt ;  I  hear, 
But  cannot  stop  the  bursting  tear." — 
The  Minstrel  tried  his  simple  art, 
But  distant  far  was  Ellen's  heart. 


158        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.    CANTO  IV. 

XII. 

Ballati. 

ALICE  BRAND. 

Merry  it  is  in  the  good  green  wood, 

When  the  mavis  *  and  merle  f  are  singing. 

When  the  deer  sweeps  by,  and  the  hounds  are  in  cry, 
And  the  hmiter's  horn  is  ringing. 

*'  O  Alice  Brand,  my  native  land 

Is  lost  for  love  of  you  j 
And  we  must  hold  by  wood  and  wold, 

As  outlaws  wont  to  do. 

"  O  Alice,  'twas  all  for  thy  locks  so  bright, 

And  'twas  aU  for  thine  eyes  so  blue, 
That  on  the  night  of  our  luckless  flight, 

Thy  brother  bold  I  slew. 

*  Thrush.  f  Blackbird. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  159 

"  Now  must  I  teach  to  hew  the  beech, 

The  hand  that  held  the  glaive, 
For  leaves  to  spread  our  lowly  bed. 

And  stakes  to  fence  our  cave. 

"  And  for  vest  of  pall,  thy  fingers  small. 

That  wont  on  harp  to  stray, 
A  cloak  must  shear  from  the  slaughtered  deer, 

To  keep  the  cold  away." — 

*'  O  Richard !  if  my  brother  died, 

'Twas  but  a  fatal  chance; 
For  darkling  was  the  battle  tried, 

And  fortune  sped  the  lance. 

*'  If  pall  and  vair  no  more  I  wear, 

Nor  thou  the  crimson  sheen, 
As  warm,  we'll  say,  is  the  russet  gray, 

As  gay  the  forest-green. 


160        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  IV. 

"  And,  Richard,  if  our  lot  be  hard. 

And  lost  thy  native  land, 
Still  Alice  has  her  own  Richard, 

And  he  his  Alice  Brand." — 

XIII. 

)15anati  cominuct!* 

'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  good  green  wood. 

So  blithe  Lady  Alice  is  singing ; 
On  the  beech's  pride,  and  the  oak's  brown  side. 

Lord  Richard's  axe  is  ringing. 

Up  spoke  the  moody  Elfin  king. 

Who  won'd  within  the  hill, — 
Like  wind  in  the  poich  of  a  ruined  church, 

His  voice  was  ghostly  shrill. 

''  Why  sounds  yon  stroke  on  beech  and  oak. 
Our  moon-light  circle's  screen  ? 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  161 

Or  who  comes  here  to  chase  the  deer. 

Beloved  of  our  Elfin  Queen  ? 
Or  who  may  dare  on  wold  to  wear 

The  fairie's  fatal  green  ? 

"  Up,  Urgan,  up  !  to  yon  mortal  hie. 

For  thou  wert  christened  man ; 
For  cross  or  sign  thou  wilt  not  fly. 

For  muttered  word  or  ban. 

"  Lay  on  him  the  curse  of  the  withered  heart. 

The  curse  of  the  sleepless  eye ; 
Till  he  wish  and  pray  that  his  life  would  part. 

Nor  yet  find  leave  to  die." — 

XIV. 

*Tis  merry,  *tis  merry,  in  good  green  wood. 
Though  the  birds  have  stilled  their  singing ; 

The  evening  b.'azc  doth  Alice  raise. 
And  Richard  is  faggots  bringing. 

L 


162        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  IV 

Up  Urgan  starts,  that  hideous  dwarf. 

Before  Lord  Richard  stands, 
And,  as  he  crossed  and  blessed  himself, 
"  I  fear  not  sign,"  quoth  the  grisly  elf, 

"  That  is  made  with  bloody  hands." — 

But  out  then  spoke  she,  Alice  Brand, 

That  woman  void  of  fear, — 
*'  And  if  there's  blood  upon  his  hand, 

'Tis  but  the  blood  of  deer."— 

"  Now  loud  thou  liest,  thou  bold  of  mood  ! 

It  cleaves  unto  his  hand. 
The  stain  of  thine  own  kindly  blood. 

The  blood  of  Ethert  Brand."— 


Then  forward  stepped  she,  Alice  Brand, 

And  made  the  holy  sign, — 
"  And  if  there's  blood  on  Richard's  hand, 

A  spotless  hand  is  mine. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  16S 

**  And  I  conjure  thee,  Daemon  elf, 

By  Him  whom  Daemons  fear. 
To  shew  us  whence  thou  art  thyself  ? 

And  what  thine  errand  here  ?" — 

XV. 

BallaD  cDttttnueti* 

"  'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  Fairy  land. 

When  fairy  birds  are  singing, 
When  the  court  doth  ride  by  their  monarch's  side. 

With  bit  and  bridle  ringing : 

**  And  gaily  shines  the  Fairy  land — 

But  all  is  glistening  show. 
Like  the  idle  gleam  that  December's  beam 

Can  dart  on  ice  and  snow. 

**  And  fading,  like  that  varied  gleam. 

Is  our  inconstant  shape. 
Who  now  like  knight  and  lady  seem, 

And  now  like  dwarf  and  ape. 


164  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKt.  CANTO  IV. 

"It  was  between  the  night  and  day, 

When  the  Fairy  King  has  power, 
That  I  sunk  down  in  a  sinful  fray, 
And,  'twixt  life  and  death,  was  snatched  away? 

To  the  joyless  Elfin  bower, 

**  But  wist  I  of  a  woman  bold, 

Who  thrice  ray  brow  durst  sign, 
I  might  regain  my  mortal  mold. 

As  fair  a  form  as  thine." — 

She  crossed  him  once — she  crossed  him  twice — 

That  lady  was  so  brave  j 
The  fouler  grew  his  goblin  hue, 

The  darker  grew  the  cave. 

She  crossed  him  thrice,  that  lady  bold ; 

He  rose  beneath  her  hand 
The  fairest  knight  on  Scottish  mold. 

Her  brother,  Ethart  Brand  ! 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  ic,B 

Merry  it  is  in  good  green  wood, 

When  the  mavis  and  merle  are  singing, 

But  merrier  were  they  in  Dunfermline  grey. 
When  all  the  bells  were  ringing. 

XVI. 

Just  as  the  minstrel  sounds  were  staid, 

A  stranger  cUmbed  the  steepy  glade  : 

His  martial  step,  his  stately  mien. 

His  hunting  suit  of  Lincoln  green. 

His  eagle  glance,  remembrance  claims — 

'Tis  Snowdoun'b  Knight,  'tis  James  Fitz-James. 

Ellen  beheld  as  in  a  dream. 

Then,  starting,  scarce  suppressed  a  scream : 

*'  O  stranger !  in  such  hour  of  fear. 

What  evil  hap  has  brought  thee  here  ?" — 

"  An  evil  hap  how  can  it  be. 

That  bids  me  look  again  on  thee  ? 

By  promise  bound,  my  former  guide 

Met  me  betimes  this  morning  tide, 


166        THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  IV. 

And  marshall*d,  over  bank  and  bourne, 

The  happy  path  of  my  return." — 

"  The  happy  path  ! — what !  said  he  nought 

Of  war,  of  battle  to  be  fought, 

Of  guarded  pass  ?"— "  No,  by  my  faith ! 

Nor  saw  I  aught  could  augur  scathe." — 

«'  Oh  haste  thee,  Allan,  to  the  kern, 

— Yonder  his  tartans  I  discern ; 

Learn  thou  his  purpose,  and  conjure 

That  he  will  guide  the  stranger  sure  ! — 

What  prompted  thee,  unhappy  man  ? 

The  meanest  serf  in  Roderick*s  clan 

Had  not  been  bribed  by  love  or  fear, 

Unknown  to  him,  to  guide  thee  here." — 

XVII. 

"  Sweet  Ellen,  dear  my  life  must  be. 

Since  it  is  worthy  care  from  thee ; 

Yet  life  I  hold  but  idle  breath, 

AVhen  love  or  honour's  weighed  with  death. 

G 


CANTO  IV.  Tjjj.   PROPHECY.  16? 

Then  let  me  profit  by  my  chance, 

And  speak  my  purpose  bold  at  once. 

I  come  to  bear  thee  from  a  wild, 

Where  ne'er  before  such  blossom  smiled  ; 

By  this  soft  hand  to  lead  thee  far 

From  frantic  scenes  of  feud  and  war. 

Near  Bochastle  my  horses  wait ; 

They  bear  us  soon  to  Stirling  gate. 

I'll  place  thee  in  a  lovely  bower, 

I'll  ffuard  thee  like  a  tender  flower," — 

*«  O  !  hush,  Sir  Knight !  'twere  female  art. 

To  say  I  do  not  read  thy  heart ; 

Too  much,  before,  my  selfish  ear 

Was  idly  soothed  my  praise  to  hear. 

That  fatal  bait  hath  lured  thee  back. 

In  deathful  hour,  o'er  dangerous  track  ; 

And  how,  O  how,  can  I  atone 

The  wreck  my  vanity  brought  on  ! — 

One  way  remains — I'll  tell  him  all — 

Yes  !  strufl:<jlinff  bosom,  forth  it  shall  ' 


463        THE    LADY  OB'  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  IV. 

Thou,  whose  .light  folly  bears  the  blame, 

Buy  thine  own  pardon  with  thy  shame  ! 

But  first — my  father  is  a  man 

Outlawed  and  exiled,  under  ban  ; 

The  price  of  blood  is  on  his  head, 

With  me  'twere  infamy  to  wed. — 

Still  would'st  thou  speak  .'' — then  hear  the  truth  I 

Fitz- James,  there  is  a  noble  youth, — 

If  yet  he  is  ! — exposed  for  me 

And  mine  to  dread  extremity — 

Thou  hast  the  secret  of  my  heart ; 

Forgive,  be  generous,  and  depart." — 


XVIII. 

Fitz- James  knew  every  wily  train 

A  lady's  fickle  heart  to  gain. 

But  here  he  knew  and  felt  them  vain.    • 

There  shot  no  glance  from  Ellen's  eye, 

To  give  her  stedfast  speech  the  ]yc  ; 

In  maiden  confidence  she  stood. 

Though  mantled  in  her  cheek  the  blood. 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  16'J 

And  told  her  love  with  such  a  sigh 

Of  deep  and  hopeless  agony, 

As  death  had  sealed  her  Malcolm's  doom, 

And  she  sat  sorrowinjj  on  his  tomb. 

Hope  vanished  from  Fitz-James's  eye, 

But  not  with  hope  fled  sympathy. 

He  proffered  to  attend  her  side, 

As  brother  would  a  sister  ouide. — 

*'  O  !  little  know'st  thou  Roderick's  heart ! 

Safer  for  both  we  go  apart. 

O  haste  thee,  and  from  Allan  learn. 

If  thou  may'st  trust  yon  wily  kern." — 

With  hand  upon  his  forehead  laid, 

The  conflict  of  his  mind  to  shade, 

A  parting  step  or  two  he  made  ; 

Then,  as  some  thought  had  crossed  his  brain, 

He  paused,  and  turned,  and  came  again. 


no       THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  IV. 

XIX. 

"  Hear,  lady,  yet,  a  parting  word  ! — 
It  chanced  in  fight  that  my  poor  sword 
Preserved  the  hfe  of  Scotland's  lord. 
This  ring  the  grateful  Monarch  gave. 
And  bade,  when  I  had  boon  to  crave. 
To  bring  it  back,  and  boldly  claim 
The  recompence  that  I  would  name. 
Ellen,  I  am  no  courtly  lord. 
But  one  who  lives  by  lance  and  sword. 
Whose  castle  is  his  helm  and  shield. 
His  lordship,  the  embattled  field- 
What  from  a  prince  can  I  demand, 
Who  neither  reck  of  state  nor  land  ? 
Ellen,  thy  hand — the  ring  is  thine  ; 
Each  guard  and  usher  knows  the  sign. 
Seek  thou  the  king  without  delay  ; 
This  signet  shall  secure  thy  way ; 


CANTO  IV,  THE   PROPHECY.  in 

And  claim  thy  suit,  whatever  it  be, 

As  ransom  of  his  pledge  to  me." — 

He  placed  the  golden  circlet  on, 

Paused — kissed  her  hand — and  then  was  gone. 

The  aged  Minstrel  stood  aghast, 

So  hastily  Fitz-James  shot  past. 

He  joined  his  guide,  and  wending  down 

The  ridges  of  the  mountain  brown. 

Across  the  stream  they  took  their  way, 

That  joins  Loch-Katrine  to  Achray. 

XX. 

All  in  the  Trosach's  glen  was  still, 
Noontide  was  sleeping  on  the  hill : 
Sudden  his  guide  whooped  loud  and  high — 
"  Murdoch  !  was  that  a  signal  cry  ?" — 
He  stammered  forth, — "  I  shout  to  scare 
Yon  raven  from  his  dainty  fare." — 
He  looked — he  knew  the  raven's  prey. 
His  own  brave  steed  : — "  Ah  !  gallant  grey  ! 


m      THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.       CANTO  IV, 

For  thee — for  me  perchance — 'twere  well 
We  ne'er  had  seen  the  Trosach's  dell. — 
Murdoch,  move  first — but  silently  •, 
Whistle  or  whoop,  and  thou  shalt  die." — 
Jealous  and  sullen  on  they  fared, 
Each  silent,  each  upon  his  guard. 


XXL 

Now  wound  the  path  its  dizzy  ledge 
Around  a  precipice's  edge, 
When  lo  !  a  wasted  Female  form. 
Blighted  by  wrath  of  sun  and  storm, 
In  tattered  weeds  and  wild  array, 
Stood  on  a  chfF  beside  the  way, 
And  glancing  round  her  restless  eye. 
Upon  the  wood,  the  rock,  the  sky. 
Seemed  nought  to  mark,  yet  all  to  spy. 
Her  brow  was  wreathed  with  gaudy  broom  ; 
With  gesture  wild  she  waved  a  plume 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  ITS 

Of  feathers,  which  the  eagles  fling- 
To  crag  and  cliff  from  dusky  wing  ; 
Such  spoils  her  desperate  step  had  sought, 
Where  scarce  was  footing  for  the  goat. 
The  tartan  plaid  she  first  descried. 
And  shrieked,  till  all  the  rocks  replied  ; 
As  loud  she  laughed  when  near  they  drew. 
For  then  the  lowland  garb  she  knew ; 
And  then  her  hands  she  wildly  wrung, 
And  then  she  wept,  and  then  she  sung. — 
She  sung  ! — the  voice,  in  better  time, 
Perchance  to  harp  or  lute  might  chime ; 
And  now,  though  strained  and  roughened,  sliJi 
Rung  wildly  sweet  to  dale  and  hill. 

XXII. 

*<  They  bid  me  sleep,  they  bid  me  pray. 
They  say  my  brain  is  warped  and  wrung — 

I  cannot  sleep  on  Highland  brae, 
I  cannot  pray  in  Highland  tongue. 


174         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  IV. 

But  were  I  now  where  Allan  glides, 
Or  heard  my  native  Devan's  tides, 
So  sweetly  would  I  rest,  and  pray 
That  Heaven  would  close  my  wintry  day  ! 

*'  *Twas  thus  my  hair  they  bade  me  braid. 
They  bade  me  to  the  church  repair  j 

It  was  my  bridal  morn  they  said. 

And  my  true  love  would  meet  me  there. 

But  woe  betide  the  cruel  guile. 

That  drowned  in  blood  the  morning  smile  ! 

And  woe  betide  the  fairy  dream  ! 

I  only  waked  to  sob  and  scream.' 


» 


XXIII. 

"  Who  is  this  maid  ?  what  means  her  lay  ? 
She  hovers  o'er  the  hollow  way. 
And  flutters  wide  her  mantle  grey. 
As  the  lone  heron  spreads  his  wing. 
By  twilight,  o'er  a  haunted  spring.' 


» 


CANXOIV.  THE  PROPHECY.  175 

"  'Tis  Blanch  of  Devan,"  Murdoch  said, 

"  A  crazed  and  captive  lowland  maid, 

Ta'en  on  the  morn  she  was  a  bride, 

When  Roderick  forayed  Devan-side. 

The  gay  bridegroom  resistance  made. 

And  felt  our  Chief's  unconquered  blade. 

I  marvel  she  is  now  at  large, 

But  oft  she  'scapes  from  Maudlin's  charge. — 

Hence,  brain-sick  fool  !" — He  raised  his  bow: — 

"  Now,  if  thou  strikest  her  but  one  blow, 

I'll  pitch  thee  from  the  cliff  as  far 

As  ever  peasant  pitched  a  bar." — 

*'  Thanks,  champion,  thanks  !"  the  Maniac  cried. 

And  pressed  her  to  Fitz-James's  side. 

*'  See  the  grey  pennons  I  prepare. 

To  seek  my  true-love  through  the  air  ! 

I  will  not  lend  that  savage  groom. 

To  break  his  fall,  one  downy  plume  ! 

No  ! — deep  amid  disjointed  stones. 

The  wolves  shall  batten  on  his  bones, 


176        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  IV. 

And  then  shall  his  detested  plaid. 
By  bush  and  briar  in  mid  air  staid, 
Wave  forth  a  banner  fair  and  free, 
Meet  signal  for  their  reveh'y."— - 

XXIV. 

*'  Hush  thee,  poor  maiden,  and  be  still !" — 
*'  O  !  thou  look'st  kindly,  and  I  will. — 
Mine  eye  has  dried  and  wasted  been. 
But  still  it  loves  the  Lincoln  green  ; 
And,  though  mine  ear  is  all  unstrung, 
Still,  still  it  loves  the  lowland  tongue. 

"  For  O  my  sweet  William  was  forester  tnic. 
He  stole  poor  Blanche's  heart  away  ! 

His  coat  it  was  all  of  the  greenwood  hue, 
And  so  blithely  he  trilled  the  lowland  lay  !*' 


It  was  not  that  I  meant  to  tell . .  . 

But  thou  art  wise,  and  guessest  well."— 


GANTOIV.  THE  PROPHECY.  177 

Then,  in  a  low  and  broken  tone, 
And  hurried  note,  the  song  went  on. 
Still  on  the  Clans-man,  fearfully, 
She  fixed  her  apprehensive  eye ; 
Then  turned  it  on  the  Knight,  and  then 
Her  look  glanced  wildly  o'er  the  glen. 

XXV. 

"  The  toils  are  pitched,  and  the  stakes  are  set, 

Ever  sing  merrily,  merrily ; 
The  bows  they  bend,  and  the  knives  they  whet, 

Hunters  live  so  cheerily. 

"  It  was  a  stag,  a  stag  often,* 

Bearing  his  branches  sturdily  ; 
He  came  stately  down  the  glen, 

Ever  sing  hardily,  hardily. 

*  Having  ten  branches  on  Iiis  antlers. 
M 


178        THE   LADY  OF  THE    LAKE.       CANTO  IV- 

"  It  was  there  he  met  with  a  wounded  doe, 

She  was  bleeding  deathfuUy  ; 
She  warned  him  of  the  toils  below, 

O  so  faithfully,  faithfully  ! 

*'  He  had  an  eye,  and  he  could  heed, 

Ever  sing  warily,  warily ; 
He  had  a  foot,  and  he  could  speed — 

Hunters  watch  so  narrowly." — 


XXVI. 

Fitz- James's  mind  was  passion-toss*d. 
When  Ellen's  hints  and  fears  were  lost  j 
But  Murdoch's  shout  suspicion  wrought, 
And  Blanche's  song  conviction  brought. — 
Not  like  a  stag  that  spies  the  snare, 
But  lion  of  the  hunt  aware, 
He  waved  at  once  his  blade  on  high, 
**  Disclose  thy  treachery,  or  die  !" — 


CANXOIV.  THE  PltOPHECr.  179 

Forth  at  full  speed  the  Clans-man  flew, 

But  in  his  race  his  bow  he  drew. 

The  shaft  just  grazed  Fitz-James's  crest. 

And  thrilled  in  Blanche's  faded  breast. — 

Murdoch  of  Alpine  !  prove  thy  speed, 

For  ne*er  had  Alpine's  son  such  need  ! 

With  heart  of  fire,  and  foot  of  wind. 

The  fierce  avenger  is  behind  ! 

Fate  judges  of  the  rapid  strife — 

The  forfeit  death — the  prize  is  life  ! 

Thy  kindred  ambush  lies  before, 

Close  couched  upon  the  heathery  moor  ; 

Them  couldst  thou  reach  ! — it  may  not  be — 

Thine  ambushed  kin  thou  ne'er  shalt  see. 

The  fiery  Saxon  gains  on  thee  ! 

— Resistless  speeds  the  deadly  thrust. 

As  hghtning  strikes  the  pine  to  dust  j 

With  foot  and  hand  Fitz- James  must  strain, 

Ere  he  can  win  his  blade  again. 


180         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  IV- 

Bent  o'er  the  fall'n,  with  falcon  eye, 
He  grimly  smiled  to  see  him  die  j 
Then  slower  wended  back  his  way, 
Where  the  poor  maiden  bleeding  lay. 

XXVII. 

She  sate  beneath  the  birchen  tree, 

Her  elbow  resting  on  her  knee  ; 

She  had  withdrawn  the  fatal  shaft, 

And  gazed  on  it,  and  feebly  laughed  j 

Her  wreath  of  broom  and  feathers  grey, 

Daggled  with  blood,  beside  her  lay. 

The  Knight  to  staunch  the  life-stream  tried, — 

**  Stranger,  it  is  in  vain !"  she  cried, 

<*  This  hour  of  death  has  given  me  more 

Of  reason's  power  than  years  before  ; 

For,  as  these  ebbing  veins  decay,  ' ' 

My  frenzied  visions  fade  away. 

A  helpless  injured  wretch  I  die. 

And  something  tells  me  in  thine  eye, 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  181 

That  thou  wert  mine  avenger  born. — 
Seest  thou  this  tress  ? — O  !  still  I*ve  worn 
This  httle  tress  of  yellow  hair, 
TTirough  danger,  frenzy,  and  despair  ! 
It  once  was  bright  and  clear  as  thine. 
But  blood  and  tears  have  dimmed  its  shine. 
I  will  not  tell  thee  when  'twas  shred. 
Nor  from  what  guiltless  victim's  head — 
My  brain  would  turn  ! — but  it  shall  wave 
Like  plumage  on  thy  helmet  brave, 
Till  sun  and  wind  shall  bleach  the  stain. 
And  thou  wilt  bring  it  me  again. — 
I  waver  still ! — O  God  !  more  bright 
Let  Reason  beam  her  parting  light ! — 
O  !  by  thy  knighthood's  honoured  sign, 
And  for  thy  life  preserved  by  mine. 
When  thou  shalt  see  a  darksome  man, 
Who  boasts  him  Chief  of  Alpine's  clan, 
With  tartans  broad  and  shadowy  plume, 
And  hand  of  blood,  and  brow  of  gloom, 


182       THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  IV, 

Be  thy  heart  bold,  thy  weapon  strong, 
And  wreak  poor  Blanche  of  Devan's  wrong  ! — 
They  watch  for  thee  by  pass  and  fell  .  .  . 
Avoid  the  path  .  .  .  O  God  !  .  .  .  farewell." — 


XXVIII. 

A  kindly  heart  had  brave  Fitz-James  ; 

Fast  poured  his  eye  at  pity's  claims, 

And  now,  with  mingled  grief  and  ire, 

He  saw  the  murdered  maid  expire. 

"  God,  in  my  need,  be  my  relief, 

As  I  wreak  this  on  yonder  Chief!" — 

A  lock  from  Blanche's  tresses  fair 

He  blended  with  her  bridegroom's  hair ; 

The  mingled  braid  in  blood  he  dyed, 

And  placed  it  on  his  bonnet  side : 

"By  Him  whose  word  is  truth !  I  swear, 

No  other  favour  will  I  wear, 

Till  this  sad  token  I  embrue 

In  the  best  blood  of  Roderick  Dhu  ! 

— But  hark  !  what  means  yon  faint  halloo  ? 


CANTO  IV  THE  PROPHECY.  183 

The  chase  is  up, — but  they  shall  know, 

The  stag  at  bay's  a  dangerous  foe."— 

Barred  from  the  known  but  guarded  way, 

Through  copse  and  cliffs  Fitz-James  must  stray, 

And  oft  must  change  his  desperate  track, 

By  stream  and  precipice  turned  back. 

Heartless,  fatigued,  and  faint,  at  length, 

From  lack  of  food  and  loss  of  strength. 

He  couched  him  in  a  thicket  hoar. 

And  thought  his  toils  and  perils  o*er : — 

*'  Of  all  my  rash  adventures  past, 

This  frantic  feat  must  prove  the  last ! 

Who  e'er  so  mad  but  might  have  guess'd. 

That  all  this  highland  hornet's  nest 

Would  muster  up  in  swarms  so  soon 

As  e'er  they  heard  of  bands  at  Doune  ? — 

Like  blood-hounds  now  they  search  me  out,— 

Hark,  to  the  whistle  and  the  shout ! — 

If  farther  through  the  wilds  1  go, 

I  only  fall  upon  the  foe  ; 


184        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  IV. 

I'll  couch  me  here  till  evening  grey, 
Then  darkling  try  my  dangerous  way."— 

XXIX. 

The  shades  of  eve  come  slowly  down. 

The  woods  are  wrapped  in  deeper  brown, 

The  owl  awakens  from  her  dell. 

The  fox  is  heard  upon  the  fell ; 

Enough  remains  of  glimmering  light 

To  guide  the  wanderer's  steps  aright, 

Yet  not  ejiough  from  far  to  show 

His  figure  to  the  watchful  foe. 

With  cautious  step  and  ear  awake. 

He  climbs  the  ciag  and  threads  the  brake ; 

And  not  the  summer  solstice,  there, 

Temper'd  the  midnight  mountain  air. 

But  every  breeze,  that  swept  the  wold. 

Benumbed  his  drenched  limbs  with  cold. 

In  dread,  in  danger,  and  alone, 

Famished  and  chilled,  through  ways  unknown. 

Tangled  and  steep,  he  journeyed  on  j 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  185 

Till  as  a  rock's  huge  point  he  turned, 
A  watch-fire  close  before  him  burned. 

XXX. 

Beside  its  embers  red  and  clear, 
Basked,  in  his  plaid,  a  mountaineer  ; 
And  up  he  sprung  with  sword  in  hand, — 
"  Thy  name  and  purpose  !  Saxon,  stand  !" — 
A  stranger." — '*  What  dost  thou  require  ?'*- 
Rest  and  a  guide,  and  food  and  fire. 
My  life's  beset,  my  path  is  lost. 
The  gale  has  chilled  my  limbs  with  frost." — 
"  Art  thou  a  friend  to  Roderick  ?"_"  No."— 
"  Thou  darest  not  call  thyself  a  fo.e  ?" — 
**  I  dare !  to  him  and  all  the  band 
He  brings  to  aid  his  murderous  hand." — 
"  Bold  words  ! — but,  though  the  beast  of  game 
The  privilege  of  chace  may  claim. 
Though  space  and  law  the  stag  we  lend, 
Ere  hound  we  slip,  or  bow  we  bend. 


({ 


(( 


186         THE  LADY   OV  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  1V« 

Who  ever  reck'd,  where,  how,  or  when. 

The  prowling  fox  was  trapped  or  slain  ? 

Thus  treacherous  scouts, — yet  sure  they  he, 

Who  say  thou  earnest  a  secret  spy  !" — 

"  They  do,  by  heaven  ! — Come  Roderick  Dhu, 

And  of  his  clan  the  boldest  two, 

And  let  me  but  till  morning  rest, 

I  write  the  falsehood  on  their  crest." — 

"  If  by  the  blaze  I  mark  aright. 

Thou  bear*st  the  belt  and  spur  of  Knight." — 

**  Then  by  these  tokens  may'st  thou  know, 

Each  proud  oppressor's  mortal  foe.*' — 

"  Enough,  enough  ;  sit  down  and  share 

A  soldier's  couch,  a  soldier's  fare." — 

XXXI. 

He  gave  him  of  his  Highland  cheer, 
The  hardened  flesh  of  mountain  deer  ; 
Dry  fuel  on  the  fire  he  laid,  • 

And  bade  the  Saxon  share  his  plaid 


CANTO  IV.  THE  PROPHECY.  187 

He  tended  him  like  welcome  guest, 
Then  thus  his  further  speech  addressed. 
"  Stranger,  I  am  to  Roderick  Dhu 
A  clans-man  born,  a  kinsman  true  ; 
Each  word  against  his  honour  spoke, 
Demands  of  me  avenging  stroke ; 
Yet  more, — upon  thy  fate,  'tis  said, 
A  mighty  auguiy  is  laid. 
It  rests  with  me  to  wind  my  horn,— 
Thou  art  with  numbers  overborne  ; 
It  rests  with  me,  here,  brand  to  brand, 
Worn  as  thou  art,  to  bid  thee  stand : 
But,  not  for  clan,  nor  kindred's  cause. 
Will  I  depart  from  honour's  laws  ; 
To  assail  a  wearied  man  were  shame, 
And  stranger  is  a  holy  name  ; 
Guidance  and  rest,  and  food  and  fire, 
In  vain  he  never  must  require. 
Then  rest  thee  here  till  dawn  of  day  ; 
Myself  will  guide  thee  on  the  way, 


188        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  IV. 

0*er  stock  and  stone,  through  watch  and  ward, 

Till  past  Clan- Alpine's  outmost  guard, 

As  far  as  Coilantogle's  ford  ; 

From  thence  thy  warrant  is  thy  sword." — 

**  I  take  thy  courtesy,  by  Heaven, 

As  freely  as  'tis  nobly  given  !" — 

*<  Well,  rest  thee  ;  for  the  bittern's  cry 

Sings  us  the  lake's  wild  lullaby." — 

With  that  he  shook  the  gathered  heath. 

And  spread  his  plaid  upon  the  wreath  ; 

And  the  brave  foemen,  side  by  side. 

Lay  peaceful  down  like  brothers  tried, 

And  slept  until  the  dawning  beam 

Purpled  the  mountain  and  the  stream. 

END  OF  CANTO  FOURTH, 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  FIFTH. 


'Cge  Com&atf 


THE 

LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 

CANTO  FIFTH. 

■^^ge  Combat* 
I. 

Jr  AIR  as  the  earliest  beam  of  eastern  light, 

When  first,  by  the  bewildered  pilgrim  spied, 
It  smiles  upon  the  dreary  brow  of  night. 

And  silvers  o'er  the  torrent's  foaming  tide, 
And  lights  the  fearful  path  on  mountain  side ; — 

Fair  as  that  beam,  although  the  fairest  far, 
Giving  to  horror  grace,  to  danger  pride. 

Shine  martial  Faith,  and  Courtesy's  bright  star, 
Through  all  the  wreckful  storms  that  cloud  the  brow 
of  War. 


192         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAK^.      CANTO  IV. 

II. 

That  early  beam,  so  fair  and  sheen, 
Was  twinkling  through  the  hazel  screen. 
When,  rousing  at  its  glimmer  red, 
The  warriors  left  their  lowly  bed, 
Looked  out  upon  the  dappled  sky. 
Muttered  their  soldier  matins  by. 
And  then  awaked  their  fire,  to  steal. 
As  short  and  rude,  their  soldier  meal. 
That  o*er,  the  Gael  *  around  him  threw 
His  graceful  plaid  of  varied  hue, 
And,  true  to  promise,  led  the  way. 
By  thicket  green  and  mountain  grey. 
A  wildering  path  ! — they  winded  now 
Along  the  precipice's  brow. 
Commanding  the  rich  scenes  beneath. 
The  windings  of  the  Forth  and  Teith, 


*  The  Scottish  Highlander  calls  himself  Gael,  or  Gaul,  and 
terms  the  Lowlanders,  Sassenach,  or  Saxons. 

6 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  193 

And  all  the  vales  between  that  lie, 
Till  Stirling's  turrets  melt  in  sky  j 
Then,  sunk  in  copse,  their  farthest  glance 
Gained  not  the  length  of  horseman's  lance. 
'Twas  oft  so  steep,  the  foot  was  fain 
Assistance  from  the  hand  to  gain ; 
So  tangled  oft,  that,  bursting  through. 
Each  hawthorn  shed  her  showers  of  dew, — 
That  diamond  dew,  so  pure  and  clear. 
It  rivals  all  but  Beauty's  tear  ! 

III. 

At  length  they  came  where,  stern  and  steep, 
The  hill  sinks  down  upon  the  deep. 
Here  Vennachar  in  silver  flows. 
There,  ridge  on  ridge,  Benledi  rose ; 
Ever  the  hollow  path  twined  on. 
Beneath  steep  bank  and  threatening  stone ; 
An  hundred  men  might  hold  the  post 
With  hardihood  asrainst  a  host. 


194       TPIE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.         CANTO  V. 

The  ruiiged  mountain's  scanty  cloak 

Was  dwarfish  shrubs  of  birch  and  oak, 

With  shingles  bare,  and  cliffs  between, 

And  patches  bright  of  bracken  green. 

And  heather  black,  that  waved  so  high, 

It  held  the  copse  in  rivalry. 

But  where  the  lake  slept  deep  and  still. 

Dank  osiers  fringed  the  swamp  and  hill ; 

And  oft  both  path  and  hill  were  torn. 

Where  wintry  torrent  down  had  borne. 

And  heaped  upon  the  cumbered  land 

Its  wreck  of  gravel,  rocks,  and  sand. 

So  toilsome  was  the  road  to  trace. 

The  guide,  abating  of  his  pace. 

Led  slowly  through  the  pass's  jaws. 

And  asked  Fitz-James,  by  what  strange  cause 

He  sought  these  wilds  ?  traversed  by  few. 

Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu. 

IV. 

'<  Brave  Gael,  my  pass,  in  danger  tried, 
Hangs  in  my  belt,  and  by  my  side ; 


I 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT,  195 

Yet,  sooth  to  tell,'*  the  Saxon  said, 

*'  I  dreamed  not  now  to  claim  its  aid. 

When  here,  but  three  days  since,  I  came. 

Bewildered  in  pursuit  of  game. 

All  seemed  as  peaceful  and  as  still, 

As  the  mist  slumbering  on  yon  hill ; 

Thy  dangerous  Chief  was  then  afar. 

Nor  soon  expected  back  from  war. 

Thus  said,  at  least,  my  mountain  guide, 

Though  deep,  perchance,  the  villain  lied." — 

*'  Yet  why  a  second  venture  try  .?'* — 

*'  A  warior  thou,  and  ask  me  why  ! — 

Moves  our  free  course  by  such  fixed  cause, 

As  gives  the  poor  mechanic  laws  ? 

Enough,  I  sought  to  drive  away 

The  lazy  hours  of  peaceful  day  ; 

Slight  cause  will  then  suffice  to  guide 

A  Knight's  free  footsteps  far  and  wide, — 

A  falcon  flown,  a  greyhound  strayed, 

The  merry  glance  of  mountain  maid  ; 


196        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 

Or,  if  a  path  be  dangerous  known, 
The  danger's  self  is  lure  alone." — 

V. 

"  Thy  secret  keep,  I  urge  thee  not  -, — 

Yet,  ere  again  ye  sought  this  spot, 

Say,  heard  ye  nought  of  lowland  war, 

Against  Clan- Alpine  raised  by  Mar  ?'*— 

a No,  by  my  word  ; — of  bands  prepared 

To  guard  King  James's  sports  I  heard  -, 

Nor  doubt  I  aught,  but,  when  they  hear 

This  muster  of  the  mountaineer. 

Their  pennons  will  abroad  be  flung. 

Which  else  in  Doune  had  peaceful  hung." — 

"  Free  be  they  flung  !  for  we  were  loth 

Their  silken  folds  should  feast  the  moth. 

Free  be  they  flung  ! — as  free  shall  wave 

Clan- Alpine's  pine  in  banner  brave. 

But,  Stranger,  peaceful  since  you  came, 

Bewildered  in  the  mountain  game, 

3 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  197 

Whence  the  bold  boast  by  which  you  show 
Vich-AJpine's  vowed  and  mortal  foe  ?" — 
"  Warrior,  but  yester-morn,  I  knew 
Nought  of  thy  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dim, 
Save  as  an  outlaw'd  desperate  man, 
The  chief  of  a  rebellious  clan. 
Who,  in  the  Regent's  court  and  sight, 
With  ruffian  dagger  stabbed  a  knight ; 
Yet  this  alone  might  from  his  part 
Sever  each  true  and  loyal  heart." — 

VI. 

Wrothful  at  such  arraignment  foul. 
Dark  lowered  the  clans-man's  sable  scowl. 
A  space  he  paused,  then  sternly  said, — 
"  And  heard'st  thou  why  he  drew  his  blade  ? 
Heard' st  thou  that  shameful  word  and  blow 
Brought  Roderick's  vengeance  on  his  foe  ? 
What  reck'd  the  Chieftain  if  he  stood 
On  Highland  heath,  or  Holy-Rood  ? 


198         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 

He  rights  such  wrong  where  it  is  given, 
If  it  were  in  the  court  of  heaven." — 
**  Still  was  it  outrage  ; — yet,  'tis  true, 
Not  then  claimed  sovereignty  his  due ; 
While  Albany,  with  feeble  hand, 
Held  borrowed  truncheon  of  command, 
The  young  King,  niew'd  in  Stirling  tower. 
Was  stranger  to  respect  and  power. 
But  then,  thy  Chieftain's  robber  life  ! — 
Winning  mean  prey  by  causeless  strife, 
Wrenching  from  ruined  lowland  swain 
His  herds  and  harvest  reared  in  vain, — 
Methinks  a  soul,  like  thine,  should  scorn 
The  spoils  from  such  foul  foray  borne." — 

VII. 

The  Gael  beheld  him  grim  the  while. 
And  answered  with  disdainful  smile, — 
"  Saxon,  from  yonder  mountain  high, 
I  marked  thee  send  delighted  eye, 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  Isi^ 

Far  to  the  south  and  east,  where  lay, 
Extended  in  succession  gay, 
Deep  waving  fields  and  pastures  green, 
With  gentle  slopes  and  groves  between  : — • 
These  fertile  plains,  that  softened  vale. 
Were  once  the  birth-right  of  the  Gael ; 
The  stranger  came  with  iron  hand, 
And  from  our  fathers  reft  the  land. 
Where  dwell  we  now  !  See,  rudely  swell 
Crag  over  crag,  and  fell  o'er  fell. 

I 

Ask  we  this  savage  hill  we  tread, 

For  fattened  steer  or  household  bread ; 

Ask  we  for  flocks  these  shingles  dry, 

And  well  the  mountain  might  reply, — 

*  To  you,  as  to  your  sires  of  yore. 

Belong  the  target  and  claymore  ! 

I  give  you  shelter  in  my  breast. 

Your  own  good  blades  must  win  the  rest.' — 

Pent  in  this  fortress  of  the  North, 

Think'st  thou  we  will  not  sally  forth, 


200 


THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CAKTO  v. 


To  spoil  the  spoiler  as  we  may, 
And  from  the  robber  rend  the  prey  ? 
Aye,  by  my  soul ! — While  on  yon  plain 
The  Saxon  rears  one  shock  of  grain  ; 
While,  of  ten  thousand  herds,  there  strays 
But  one  along  yon  river's  maze, — 
The  Gael,  of  plain  and  river  heir, 
Shall,  with  strong  hand,  redeem  his  shar6. 
Where  live  the  mountain  Chiefs  who  hold, 
Tliat  plundering  Lowland  field  and  fold 
Is  aught  but  retribution  true  ? 
Seek  other  cause  'gainst  Roderick  Dhu." — 


VIII. 

Answered  Fitz-James, — "  And,  if  I  sought, 

Think'st  thou  no  other  could  be  brought  ? 

What  deem  ye  of  my  path  way-laid. 

My  life  given  o'er  to  ambuscade  ?" — 

"  As  of  a  meed  to  rashness  due : 

Hadst  thou  sent  warning  fair  and  true, — 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  SOI 

I  seek  my  hound,  or  falcon  strayed, 

I  seek,  good  faith,  a  Highland  maid, — 

Free  hadst  thou  been  to  come  and  go  ; 

But  secret  path  inarks  secret  foe. 

Nor  yet,  for  this,  even  as  a  spy, 

Hadst  thou,  unheard,  been  doomed  to  die, 

Save  to  fulfil  an  augury." — 

"  Well,  let  it  pass  ;  nor  will  I  now 

Fresh  cause  of  enmity  avow, 

To  chafe  thy  mood  and  cloud  thy  brow. 

Enough,  1  am  by  promise  tied 

To  match  me  with  this  man  of  pride  : 

Twice  have  I  sought  Clan- Alpine's  glen 

In  peace  j  but  when  I  come  agen, 

I  come  with  baimer,  brand  and  bow, 

As  leader  seeks  his  mortal  foe. 

For  love-lorn  swain,  in  lady's  bower. 

Ne'er  panted  for  the  appointed  hour, 

As  I,  until  before  me  stand 

This  rebel  Chieftain  and  his  band." — 


I 


202        THE  LADY  OF  THE    LAKE.        CANTO  V- 

IX. 

"  Have,  then,  thy  wish  !" — he  whistled  shrill. 

And  he  was  answered  fi'om  the  hill  j 

Wild  as  the  scream  of  the  curlieu. 

From  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew. 

Instant,  through  copse  and  heath,  arose 

Bonnets  and  spears  and  bended  bows  ^ 

On  right,  on  left,  above,  below, 

Sprung  up  at  once  the  lurking  foe ; 

From  shingles  grey  their  lances  start. 

The  bracken  bush  sends  forth  the  dart. 

The  rushes  and  the  willow-wand 

Are  bristling  into  axe  and  brand. 

And  every  tuft  of  broom  gives  life 

To  plaided  warrior  armed  for  strife. 

That  whistle  garrison'd  the  glen 

At  once  with  full  five  hundred  men. 

As  if  the  yawning  hill  to  heaven 

A  subterranean  host  had  given. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  203 

Watching  their  leader's  beck  and  will, 

All  silent  there  they  stood  and  still. 

Like  the  loose  crags  whose  threatening  muss 

Lay  tottering  o'er  the  hollow  pass, 

As  if  an  infant's  touch  could  urore 

Their  headlong  passage  down  the  verge, 

With  step  and  weapon  forward  flung. 

Upon  the  mountain-side  they  hung. 

The  mountaineer  cast  glance  of  pride 

Along  Benledi's  living  side, 

Then  fixed  his  eye  and  sable  brow 

Full  on  Fitz- James — "  How  say'st  thou  now  ? 

These  are  Clan- Alpine's  warriors  true ; 

And,  Saxon, — 1  am  Roderick  Dhu  !" — 

X. 

Fitz-James  was  brave  : — Though  to  his  heart 
The  hfe-blood  thrilled  with  sudden  start, 
He  mann'd  himself  with  dauntless  air, 
Returned  the  Chief  his  haughty  stare, 


204 


THE  LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.        CANTO  V. 


His  back  against  a  rock  he  bore, 

And  firmly  placed  his  foot  before  : — 

«  Come  one,  come  all !  this  rock  shall  fly 

From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  I." — 

Sir  Roderick  marked — and  in  his  eyes 

Respect  was  mingled  with  surprise, 

And  the  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 

In  foemen  worthy  of  their  steel. 

Short  space  he  stood — then  waved  his  hand  : 

Down  sunk  the  disappearing  band  ; 

Each  warrior  vanished  where  he  stood, 

In  broom  or  bracken,  heath  or  wood  ; 

Sunk  brand  and  spear  and  bended  bow. 

In  osiers  pale  and  copses  low  ; 

It  seemed  as  if  their  mother  Earth 

Had  swallowed  up  her  warhke  birth. 

The  wind's  last  breath  had  tossed  in  air, 

Pennon,  and  plaid,  and  plumage  fair, — 

The  next  but  swept  a  lone  hill-side. 

Where  heath  and  fern  were  waving  wide  ; 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  20S 

The  sun's  last  glance  was  glinted  back, 

From  spear  and  glaive,  from  targe  and  jack, — 

The  next,  all  unreflected,  shone 

On  bracken  green,  and  cold  grey  stone. 

XI. 

Fitz-James  looked  round — yet  scarce  believed 

The  witness  that  his  sight  received  ; 

Such  apparition  well  might  seem 

Delusion  of  a  dreadful  dream. 

Sir  Roderick  in  suspense  he  eyed. 

And  to  his  look  the  Chief  replied, 

*'  Fear  nought — nay,  that  I  need  not  say — 

But — doubt  not  aught  from  mine  arra}-. 

Thou  art  my  guest ; — I  pledged  my  word 

As  far  as  Coilantogle  ford  : 

Nor  would  I  call  a  clans-man's  brand 

For  aid  against  one  valiant  hand, 

Though  on  our  strife  lay  every  vale 

Rent  bv  the  Saxon  from  the  Gael. 


306        THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  V. 

So  move  we  on ; — I  only  meant 
To  show  the  I'eed  on  which  you  leant. 
Deeming  this  path  you  might  pursue 
Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu." — 
They  moved  : — I  said  Fitz-James  was  brave, 
As  ever  knight  that  belted  glaive  5 
Yet  dare  not  sav,  that  now  his  blood 
Kept  on  its  wont  and  tempered  flood, 
As,  following  Roderick's  stride,  he  drew 
That  seeming  lonesome  path-way  through. 
Which  yet,  by  fearful  proof,  was  rife 
With  lances,  that  to  take  his  life 
Waited  but  signal  from  a  guide, 
So  late  dishonoured  and  defied. 
Ever,  by  stealth,  his  eye  sought  round 
The  vanished  guardians  of  the  ground, 
And  still  from  copse  and  heather  deep. 
Fancy  saw  spear  and  broad-sword  peep. 
And  in  the  plover's  shrilly  strain^ 
The  signal  whistle  heard  again. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  207 

Nor  breathed  he  free  till  far  behind 
The  pass  was  left ;  for  then  they  wind 
Along  a  wide  and  level  green, 
Where  neither  tree  nor  tuft  was  seen, 
Nor  rush,  nor  bush  of  broom  was  near, 
To  hide  a  bonnet  or  a  spear. 

XII. 

The  Chief  in  silence  strode  before. 

And  reached  that  torrent's  sounding  shore, 

Which,  daughter  of  three  mighty  lakes. 

From  Vennachar  in  silver  breaks. 

Sweeps  thi-ough  the  plain,  and  ceaseless  mines 

On  Bochastle  the  mouldering  lines. 

Where  Rome,  the  Empress  of  the  world, 

Of  yore  her  eagle  wings  unfurl'd. 

And  here  his  course  the  Chieftain  staid, 

Threw  down  his  target  and  his  plaid. 

And  to  the  Lowland  warrior  said  : — 

*'  Bold  Saxon  !  to  his  promise  just, 

Vich- Alpine  has  discharged  his  trust. 
1 


208        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 

This  murderous  Chief,  this  ruthless  man, 

This  head  of  a  rebellious  clan, 

Hath  led  thee  safe,  through  watch  and  ward, 

Far  past  Clan- Alpine's  outmost  guard. 

Now,  man  to  man,  and  steel  to  steel, 

A  Chieftain's  vengeance  thou  shalt  feel. 

Sec,  here,  all  vantageless  I  stand. 

Armed  hke  thyself,  with  single  brand  ; 

For  this  is  Coilantogle  ford, 

And  thou  must  keep  thee  with  thy  sword." — 

XIII. 

The  Saxon  paused  : — "  I  ne'er  delayed. 

When  foeman  bade  me  draw  my  blade ; 

Nay  more,  brave  Chief,  I  vow'd  thy  death  : 

Yet  sure  thy  fair  and  generous  faith, 

And  my  deep  debt  for  life  preserved, 

A  better  meed  have  well  deserved  : — 

Can  nought  but  blood  our  feud  atone  ? 

Are  there  no  means  r" — "  No,  Stranger,  none ! 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  209 

And  hear, — to  fire  thy  flagging  zeal, — 
The  Saxon  cause  rests  on  thy  steel ; 
For  thus  spoke  Fate  by  prophet  bred 
Between  the  living  and  the  dead  ; 
*'  Who  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life, 
His  party  conquers  in  the  strife." — 
**  Then,  by  my  word,"  the  Saxon  said, 
**  The  riddle  is  already  read* 
Seek  yonder  brake  beneath  the  cliff, — 
There  lies  Red  Murdoch,  stark  and  stiff. 
Thus  Fate  has  solved  her  prophecy. 
Then  yield  to  Fate,  and  not  to  me. 
To  James,  at  Stirling,  let  us  go. 
When,  if  thou  wilt  be  still  his  foe, 
Or  if  the  King  shall  not  agree 
To  grant  thee  grace  and  favour  free, 
I  plight  mine  honour,  oath,  and  word, 
That,  to  thy  native  strengths  restored. 
With  each  advantage  shalt  thou  stand, 
That  aids  thee  now  to  guard  thy  land." — 

o 


210        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  V 


XIV. 

Dark  lightning  flashed  from  Roderick's  eye — 

"  Soars  thy  presumption  then  so  high, 

Because  a  wretched  kern  ye  slew. 

Homage  to  name  to  Roderick  Dhu  ? 

He  yields  not,  he,  to  man  nor  Fate  ! 

Thou  add'st  but  fuel  to  my  hate  : — 

My  clans-man's  blood  demands  revenge. — 

Not  yet  prepared  ? — By  heaven,  I  change 

My  thought,  and  hold  thy  valour  light 

As  that  of  some  vain  carpet-knight. 

Who  ill  deserved  my  courteous  care, 

And  whose  best  boast  is  but  to  wear 

A  braid  of  his  fair  lady's  hair." — 

— '<  I  thank  thee,  Roderick,  for  the  word  ! 

It  nerves  my  heart,  it  steels  my  sword  ; 

For  I  have  sworn  this  braid  to  stain 

In  the  best  blood  that  warms  thy  vein. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  _,    j,^  ?ll 

Now,  truce,  farewell !  and  ruth,  begone ! — 
Yet  think  not  that  by  thee  alone, 
Proud  Chief !  can  courtesy  be  shewn  ; 
Though  not  from  copse,  or  heath,  or  cairn, 
Start  at  my  whistle  clans-men  stern, 
Of  this  small  horn  one  feeble  blast 
Would  fearfiil  odds  against  thee  cast. 
But  fear  not — doubt  not — which  thou  wilt — 
We  try  this  quarrel  hilt  to  hilt." — 
Then  each  at  once  his  foulchion  drew. 
Each  on  the  ground  his  scabbard  threw. 
Each  looked  to  sun,  and  stream,  and  plain. 
As  what  they  ne*er  might  see  again ; 
Then,  foot,  and  point,  and  eye  opposed. 
In  dubious  strife  they  darkly  closed. 

XV. 

Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhu, 
That  on  the  field  his  targe  he  threw, 


212 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 


Whose  brazen  studs  and  tough  bull-hide 
Had  death  so  often  dashed  aside  •, 
For,  trained  abroad  his  arms  to  wield, 
Fitz-James's  blade  was  sword  and  shield. 
He  practised  every  pass  and  ward. 
To  thrust,  to  strike,  to  feint,  to  guard ; 
Wliile  less  expert,  though  stronger  far, 
The  Gael  maintained  unequal  war. 
Three  times  in  closing  strife  they  stood. 
And  thrice  the  Saxon  blade  drank  blood  ; 
No  stinted  draught,  no  scanty  tide, 
The  gushing  floods  the  tartans  dyed. 
Fierce  Roderick  felt  the  fatal  drain. 
And  showered  his  blows  like  wintry  rain ; 
And,  as  firm  rock,  or  castle-roof. 
Against  the  winter  shower  is  proof. 
The  foe  invubierable  still 
Foiled  his  wild  rage  by  steady  skill  j 
Till,  at  advantage  ta'en,  his  brand 
Forced  Roderick*s  weapon  from  his  hand. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  21S 

And,  backwards  borne  upon  the  lea, 
Brought  the  proud  Chieftain  to  his  knee. 

XVI. 

"  Now,  yield  thee,  or,  by  Him  who  made 
The  world,  thy  heart*s  blood  dyes  my  blade !" — 
**  Thy  threats,  thy  mercy,  I  defy  ! 
Let  recreant  yield,  who  fears  to  die." — 
Like  adder  darting  from  his  coil, 
Like  wolf  that  dashes  through  the  toil. 
Like  mountain-cat  who  guards  her  young, 
Full  at  Fitz-James*s  throat  he  sprung. 
Received,  but  reck'd  not  of  a  wound. 
And  locked  his  arms  his  foeman  round. — 
Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  own  ! 
No  maiden's  hand  is  round  thee  thrown  ! 
That  desperate  grasp  thy  frame  might  feel. 
Through  bars  of  brass  and  triple  steel  ! — 
They  tug,  they  strain  ! — down,  down,  they  go, 
The  Gael  above,  Fitz-James  below. 


2U        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V, 

The  Chieftain's  gripe  his  throat  compress*d, 
His  knee  was  p  anted  in  his  breast  j 
His  clotted  locks  he  backward  threw, 
Across  his  brow  his  hand  he  drew, 
From  blood  and  mist  to  clear  his  sight. 
Then  gleam'd  aloft  his  dagger  bright ! — 
— But  hate  and  fury  ill  supplied 
The  stream  of  life's  exhausted  tide. 
And  all  too  late  the  advantage  came, 
To  turn  the  odds  of  deadly  game ; 
For,  while  the  dagger  gleam'd  on  high, 
Keeled  soul  and  sense,  reeled  brain  and  eye. 
Down  came  the  blow  !  but  in  the  heath 
The  erring  blade  found  bloodless  sheath. 
The  struggling  foe  may  now  unclasp 
The  fainting  Chiefs  relaxing  grasp  ; 
Unwounded  from  the  dreadful  close, 
But  breathless  all,  Fitz-James  arose. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  2^^ 

XVII. 

He  faultered  thanks  to  Heaven  for  life, 

Redeemed,  unhoped,  from  desperate  strife  ; 

Next  on  his  foe  his  look  he  cast, 

Whose  every  gasp  appeared  his  last ; 

In  Roderick's  gore  he  dipp'd  the  braid, — 

"  Poor  Blanche  !  thy  wrongs  are  dearly  paid : 

Yet  with  thy  foe  must  die,  or  live, 

The  praise  that  Faith  and  Valour  give."— 

With  that  he  blew  a  bugle-note, 

Undid  the  collar  fi'om  his  throat, 

Unbonnetted,  and  by  the  wave 

Sate  down  his  brow  and  hands  to  lave. 

Then  faint  afar  are  heard  the  feet 

Of  rushing  steeds  in  gallop  fleet ; 

The  sounds  increase,  and  now  are  seen 

Four  mounted  squires  in  Lincoln  green  ; 

Two  who  bear  lance,  and  two  who  lead, 

By  loosened  rein,  a  saddled  steed ; 


216        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V 

Each  onward  held  his  headlong  course, 
And  by  Fitz-James  rein'd  up  his  horse, — 
With  wonder  view'd  the  bloody  spot — 
— "  Exclaim  not,  gallants  !  question  not. — 
You,  Herbert  and  Luffhess,  alight, 
And  bind  the  wounds  of  yonder  knight ; 
Let  the  grey  palfrey  bear  his  weight, 
We  destined  for  a  fairer  freight, 
And  bring  him  on  to  Stirling  straight ; 
I  will  before  at  better  speed, 
To  seek  fresh  horse  and  fitting  weed. 
The  sun  rides  high  ; — I  must  be  boune 
To  see  the  archer-game  at  noon  ; 
But  lightly  Bayard  clears  the  lea. — 
De  Vaux  and  Herries,  follow  me. 

XVIII. 

"  Stand,  Bayard,  stand  !" — the  steed  obeyed, 
With  arching  neck  and  bended  head. 
And  glancing  eye,  and  quivering  ear, 
As  if  he  loved  his  lord  to  hear. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  217 

No  foot  Fitz-James  in  stirrup  staid, 

No  grasp  upon  the  saddle  laid. 

But  wreathed  his  left  hand  in  the  manej. 

And  hghtly  bounded  from  the  plain, 

Turned  on  the  horse  his  armed  heel. 

And  stirred  his  courage  with  the  steel, 

Bounded  the  fiery  steed  in  air, 

The  rider  sate  erect  and  fair, 

Then,  hke  a  bolt  from  steel  cross-bow 

Forth  launched,  along  the  plain  they  go. 

They  dashed  that  rapid  torrent  through. 

And  up  Carhonie's  hill  they  flew ; 

Still  at  the  gallop  pricked  the  Knight, 

His  merry-men  followed  as  they  might. 

Along  thy  banks,  swift  Teith  !  they  ride, 

And  in  the  race  they  mock  thy  tide ; 

Torry  and  Lend  rick  now  are  past. 

And  Deanstown  lies  behind  them  cast ; 

I 
They  rise,  the  bannered  towers  of  Doune, 

They  suik  in  distant  woodland  soon  ; 


518         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  V. 

Blair-Drummond  sees  the  hoofs  strike  fire, 
They  sweep  like  breeze  through  Ochtertyre  ; 
They  mark  just  glance  and  disappear 
The  lofty  brow  of  ancient  Kier ; 
They  bathe  their  coursers*  sweltering  sides. 
Dark  Forth  !  amid  thy  sluggish  tides. 
And  on  the  opposing  shore  take  ground. 
With  plash,  with  scramble,  and  with  bound. 
Right  hand  they  leave  thy  cliffs,  Craig- Forth  ! 
And  soon  the  bulwark  of  the  North, 
Grey  Stirling,  with  her  towers  and  town, 
Upon  their  fleet  career  looked  down. 

XIX. 

As  up  the  flinty  path  they  strained. 

Sudden  his  steed  the  leader  reined  j 

A.  signal  to  his  squire  he  flung. 

Who  instant  to  his  stirrup  sprung  : — 

**  Seest  thou,  De  Vaux,  yon  woodsman  grey. 

Who  town-ward  holds  the  rocky  way, 

Of  stature  tall  and  poor  array  ? 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  219 

Mark'st  thou  the  firm,  yet  active  stride, 

With  which  he  scales  the  mountain  side  ? 

Know' St  thou  from  whence  he  comes,  or  whom  ?" — 

"  No,  by  my  word  ; — a  burly  groom 

He  seems,  who  in  the  field  or  chase 

A  Baroji's  train  would  nobly  grace." — 

*'  Out,  out,  De  Vaux  !  can  fear  supply, 

And  jealousy,  no  sharper  eye  ? 

Afar,  ere  to  the  hill  he  drew. 

That  stately  form  and  step  I  knew ; 

Like  form  in  Scotland  is  not  seen, 

Treads  not  such  step  on  Scottish  green. 

'Tis  James  of  Douglas,  by  Saint  Serle  ! 

The  uncle  of  the  banished  Earl. 

Away,  away,  to  court,  to  show 

The  near  approach  of  dreaded  foe : 

The  King  must  stand  upon  his  guard ; 

Douglas  and  he  must  meet  prepared." — 

Then  right  hand  wheeled  their  steeds,  and  strait 

They  won  the  castle's  postern  gate. 


220        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 

XX. 

The  Douglas,  who  had  bent  his  way 

From  Cambus-Kenncth's  abbey  grey. 

Now,  as  he  climbed  the  rocky  shelf. 

Held  sad  communion  with  himself : — 

**  Yes  !  all  is  true  my  fears  could  frame  : 

A  prisoner  hes  the  noble  Graeme, 

And  fiery  Roderick  soon  will  feel 

The  vengeance  of  the  royal  steel. 

I,  only  I,  can  ward  their  fate, — 

God  grant  the  ransom  come  not  late  ! 

The  Abbess  hath  her  promise  given, 

My  child  shall  be  the  bride  of  Heaven ;— 

— Be  pardoned  one  repining  tear  ! 

For  He,  who  gave  her,  knows  how  dear. 

How  excellent — but  that  is  by, 

And  now  my  business  is  to  die. 

— Ye  towers  !  within  whose  circuit  dread 

A  Douglas  by  his  sovereign  bled, 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  22l 

And  thou,  O  sad  and  fatal  mound  !* 
That  oft  hast  heard  the  death-axe  sound, 
As  on  the  noblest  of  the  land 
Fell  the  stern  headsman's  bloody  hand, — 
The  dungeon,  block,  and  nameless  tomb 
Prepare, — for  Douglas  seeks  his  doom  ! 
— But  hark  !  what  blithe  and  jolly  peal 
Makes  the  Franciscan  steeple  reel  ? 
And  see  !  upon  the  crowded  street, 
In  motley  groups  what  masquers  meet ! 
Banner  and  pageant,  pipe  and  drum. 
And  merry  morrice-danccrs  come. 
I  guess,  by  all  this  quaint  array. 
The  burghers  hold  their  sports  to-day. 
James  wiU  be  there  ; — he  loves  such  show, 
Where  the  good  yeoman  bends  his  bow. 
And  the  tough  wrestler  foils  his  foe, 
As  well  as  where,  in  proud  career, 
The  high-born  tilter  shivers  spear. 


*  An  eminence  on  tlie  nortli-east  of  the  castle,  where  state 
criminals  were  executed.     See  Note. 


222  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  V. 

ni  follow  to  the  Castle-park, 

And  play  my  prize  ; — King  James  shall  mark, 

If  age  has  tamed  these  sinews  stark. 

Whose  force  so  oft,  in  happier  days. 

His  boyish  wonder  loved  to  praise." — 

XXI. 

The  Castle  gates  were  open  flung. 

The  quivering  draw-bridge  rocked  and  rung, 

And  echoed  loud  the  flinty  street 

Beneath  the  coursers'  clattering  feet, 

As  slowly  down  the  steep  descent 

Fair  Scotland's  King  and  nobles  went, 

While  all  along  the  crowded  way 

W^as  jubilee  and  loud  huzza. 

And  ever  James  was  bending  low, 

To  his  white  jennet's  saddle  bow, 

Doffing  his  cap  to  city  dame, 

A\'ho  smiled  and  blushed  for  pride  and  shume. 

And  well  the  simperer  might  be  vain,— 

He  chose  the  fairest  of  the  train. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  32S 

Gravely  he  greets  each  city  sire, 

Commends  each  pageant's  quaint  attire, 

Gives  to  the  dancers  thanks  aloud, 

And  smiles  and  nods  upon  the  crowd, 

Who  rend  the  heavens  with  their  acclaim.s, 

**  Long  live  the  Commons'  King,   King  James  1" 

Behind  the  King  thronged  peer  and  knight, 

And  noble  dame  and  damsel  bright. 

Whose  fiery  steeds  ill-brooked  the  stay 

Of  the  steep  street  and  crowded  way. 

— But  m  the  train  you  might  discern 

Dark  lowering  brow  and  visage  stern ; 

There  nobles  mourned  their  pride  restrained, 

And  the  mean  burgher's  joys  disdained ; 

And  chiefs,  who,  hostage  for  their  clan. 

Were  each  from  home  a  banished  man. 

There  thought  upon  their  own  grey  tower. 

Their  waving  woods,  their  feudal  power. 

And  deemed  themselves  a  shamefid  part 

Of  pageant  which  they  cursed  in  heart. 


224        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE,        CANTO  V. 

xxir. 

Now,  in  the  Castle-park,  drew  out 
Their  chequered  bands  the  joyous  route. 
There  morricers,  with  bell  at  heel. 
And  blade  in  hand,  their  mazes  wheel ; 
But  chief,  beside  the  butts,  there  stand 
Bold  Robin  Hood  and  all  his  band, — 
Friar  Tuck  with  quarter-staff  and  cowl, 
Old  Scathelocke  with  his  surly  scowl. 
Maid  Marian,  fair  as  ivory  bone. 
Scarlet,  and  Mutch,  and  Little  John  ; 
Their  bugles  challenge  all  that  will. 
In  archery  to  prove  their  skill. 
The  Douglas  bent  a  bow  of  might, — ■ 
His  first  shaft  centered  in  the  white. 
And  when  in  turn  he  shot  again. 
His  second  split  the  first  in  twain. 
From  the  King's  hand  must  Douglas  take 
A  silver  dart,  the  archers'  stake  j 


CANTO  V.  THE   COMBAT.  225 

Fondly  he  watched,  with  watery  eye, 
Some  answering  glance  of  sympathy, — 
No  kind  emotion  made  reply  ! 
Indifferent  as  to  archer  wight. 
The  Monarch  gave  the  arrow  bright. 

XXIII. 

Now,  clear  the  Ring  !  for,  hand  to  hand, 
The  manly  wrestlers  take  their  stand. 
Two  o'er  the  rest  superior  rose, 
And  proud  demanded  mightier  foes, 
Nor  called  in  vain  :  for  Douglas  came. 
— For  life  is  Hugh  of  Larbert  lame. 
Scarce  better  John  of  Alloa's  fare. 
Whom  senseless  home  his  comrades  bear. 
Prize  of  the  wrestling  match,  the  King 
To  Douglas  gave  a  golden  ring, 
AVhile  coldly  glanced  his  eye  of  blue. 
As  frozen  drop  of  wintry  dew. 


226      THE  LADY  OF  THE    LAKE.       CANTO-v 

Douglas  would  speak,  but  in  his  breast 

His  struggling  soul  his  words  suppress*d  : 

Indignant  then  he  turned  him  where 

Their  arms  the  brawny  yeomen  bare. 

To  hurl  the  massive  bar  in  air. 

When  each  his  utmost  strength  had  shewn, 

The  Douglas  rent  an  earth-fast  stone 

From  its  deep  bed,  then  heaved  it  high, 

And  sent  the  fragment  through  the  sky, 

A  rood  beyond  the  farthest  mark  •, — 

And  still  in  Stirling's  royal  park, 

The  grey-haired  sires,  who  know  the  past, 

To  strangers  point  the  Douglas-cast, 

And  moralize  on  the  decay 

Of  Scottish  strength  in  modern  day. 


XXIV. 

The  vale  with  loud  applauses  rang, 
The  Ladies*  Roek  sent  baclc  the  clang ; 


,'>TW  rJriO'^ijfT 


CANTO  V.  THE  COM  EAT.  237 

The  King,  with  look  unmoved,  bestowefl 

A  purse  well  filled  with  pieces  broad. 

Indignant  smiled  the  Douglas  proud,  > 

And  threw  the  gold  among  the  crowd. 

Who  now,  with  anxious  wonder  scan. 

And  sharper  glance,  the  dark  grey  man  j 

Till  whispers  rose  among  the  throng,  y 

That  heart  so  free,  and  hand  so  strong. 

Must  to  the  Douglas  blood  belong : 

The  old  men  mark'd,  and  shook  the  head, 

To  see  his  hair  with  silver  spread, 

And  winked  aside,  and  told  each  son 

Of  feats  upon  the  English  done. 

Ere  Douglas  of  the  stalwart  hand 

Was  exiled  from  his  native  land. 

The  women  praised  his  stately  form. 

Though  wreck'd  by  many  a  winter's  storm  ^ 

The  youth  with  awe  and  wonder  saw 

His  strcngtli  surpassing  Nature's  law . 


11 


228        THE   LADY   OF   THE  LAKE.        CANTO  V. 

Thus  judged,  as  is  their  wont,  the  crowd, 
Till  murmur  rose  to  clamours  loud. 
But  not  a  glance  from  that  proud  ring 
Of  peers  who  circled  round  the  King, 
With  Douglas  held  communion  kind, 
Or  called  the  banished  man  to  mind  ; 
No,  not  from  those  who,  at  the  chase. 
Once  held  his  side  the  honoured  place, 
Begirt  his  board,  and,  in  the  field, 
Found  safety  underneath  his  shield  ; 
For  he,  whom  royal  eyes  disown. 
When  was  his  form  to  courtiers  kaown  ? 


XXV. 

Tlie  Monarch  saw  the  gambols  flag. 

And  bade  let  loose  a  gallant  stag, 

Whose  pride,  the  hoUday  to  crown. 

Two  favourite  grey-hounds  should  pull  down, 

That  venison  free,  and  Bourdeaux  wine. 

Might  serve  the  archery  to  dine. 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  22'!' 

But  Lufra, — whom  fi'om  Douglas'  side 

Nor  bribe  nor  threat  could  e'er  divide, 

The  fleetest  hound  in  all  the  North, — 

Brave  Lufra  saw,  and  darted  forth. 

She  left  the  royal  hounds  mid-way, 

And,  dashing  on  the  antler'd  prey, 

Sunk  her  sharp  muzzle  in  his  flank, 

And  deep  the  flowing  Ufe-blood  drank. 

The  King's  stout  huntsman  saw  the  sport 

By  strange  intruder  broken  short. 

Came  up,  and,  with  his  leash  unbound, 

In  anger  struck  the  noble  hound. 

— The  Douglas  had  endured,  that  morn. 

The  King's  cold  look,  the  nobles'  scorn. 

And  last,  and  worst  to  spirit  proud. 

Had  borne  the  pity  of  the  crowd  ; 

But  Lufra  had  been  fondly  bred. 

To  share  his  board,  to  watch  his  bed. 

And  oft  would  Ellen,  Lufra' s  neck, 

In  maiden  glee,  with  garlands  deck  ; 

6 


230       THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.       CAKTO  V. 

They  wel-e  such  play-mates,  that  with  name 
Of  Lufra,  Ellen's  image  came. 
His  stifled  wrath  is  brimming  high, 
In  darkened  brow  and  flashing  eye ; — 
As  waves  before  the  bark  divide, 
The  crowd  gave  way  before  his  stride  ; 
Needs  but  a  buffet  and  no  more. 
The  groom  lies  senseless  in  his  gore. 
Such  blow  no  other  hand  could  deal, 
Though  gauntletted  in  glove  of  stqel. 

XXVI. 

Then  clamoured  loud  the  royal  train, 
And  brandished  swords  and  staves  amain. 
But  stern  the  Baron's  warning — *'  Back  ! 
Back,  on  your  lives,  ye  menial  pack  ! 
Beware  the  Douglas. — Yes  !  behold. 
King  James,  the  Douglas,  doomed  of  old. 
And  vainly  sought  for  near  and  far, 
A  victim  to  atone  the  war, 


^ANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  281 

A  willing  victim,  now  attends, 

Nor  craves  thy  grace  Ijut  for  his  friends.*'— 

— "  Thus  is  my  clemency  repaid  ? 

Presumptuous  Lord  !**  the  Monarch  said  j 

"  Of  thy  mis-proud  ambitious  clan, 

Thou,  James  of  Both  well,  wert  the  man. 

The  only  man,  in  whom  a  foe 

My  woman-mercy  would  not  know : 

But  shall  a  Monarch's  presence  brook 

Injurious  blow,  and  haughty  look  ? — 

What  ho  !  the  Captain  of  our  Guard  ! 

Give  the  oflPender  fitting  ward. — 

Break  off  the  sports  !" — for  tumult  rose. 

And  yeoman  'gan  to  bend  their  bows, — 

"  Break  off  the  sports  !'* — he  said,  and  frowned, 

*'  And  bid  our  horsemen  clear  the  ground." — 

XXVII. 

Then  uproar  wild  and  misarray 
Marr*d  the  fair  form  of  festal  day. 


232         THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  V. 

The  horsemen  pricked  among  the  crowd, 
Repelled  by  threats  and  insult  loud  ; 
To  earth  are  borne  the  old  and  weak. 
The  timorous  fly,  the  women  shriek ; 

With  flint,  with  shaft,  with  staff',  with  bar. 

The  hardier  urge  tumultuous  war. 

At  once  round  Douglas  darkly  sweep" 

The  royal  spears  in  circle  deep. 

And  slowly  scale  the  path-way  steep  j 

While  on  the  rear  in  thunder  pour 

The  rabble  with  disordered  roar. 

With  grief  the  noble  Douglas  saw 

The  commons  rise  against  the  law. 

And  to  the  leading  soldier  said, — 

*'  Sir  John  of  Hyndford  !  'twas  my  blade. 

That  knighthood  on  thy  shoulder  laid  ; 

For  that  good  deed,  permit  me  then 

A  word  with  these  misguided  men. — 


CANTO  V.  T  H  E  C  O  M  B  A  T .  H  T        233 

XXVIII. 
"  Hear,  gentle  friends  !  ere  yet,  for  hk-, 
Ye  break  the  bands  of  fealty. 
My  life,  my  honour,  and  my  cause, 
I  tender  free  to  Scotland's  laws. 
Are  these  so  weak  as  must  require 
The  aid  of  your  misguided  ire  ? 
Or,  if  I  suffer  causeless  wrong, 
Is  then  my  selfish  rage  so  strong, 
My  sense  of  pubUc  weal  so  low, 
That  for  mean  vengeance  on  a  foe, 
Those  chords  of  love  I  should  unbind, 
Which  knit  my  country  and  my  kind  ? 
Oh  no  !  Believe,  in  yonder  tower 
It  will  not  sooth  my  captive  hour. 
To  know  those  spears  our  foes  should  dre:i<i. 
For  me  in  kindred  gore  are  red ; 
To  know,  in  fruitless  brawl  begun. 
For  me,  that  mother  Avails  her  son  ; 


.a34        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V 

For  nie,  that  widow's  mate  expires, 
For  me,  that  orphans  weep  their  sires, 
That  patriots  mourn  insulted  laws. 
And  curse  the  Douglas  for  the  cause. 
O  let  your  patience  ward  such  ill, 
And  keep  your  right  to  love  me  still  !"-— 

XXIX. 

The  crowd's  wild  fury  sunk  again 
In  tears,  as  tempests  melt  in  rain. 
With  lifted  hands  and  eyes,  they  prayed 
For  blessings  on  his  generous  head, 
Who  for  his  country  felt  alone. 
And  prized  her  blood  beyond  his  own. 
Old  men,  upon  the  verge  of  life. 
Blessed  him  who  stayed  the  civil  strife ; 
And  mothers  held  their  babes  on  high, 
The  self-devoted  Chief  to  spy. 
Triumphant  over  wrong  and  ire, 
To  whom  the  prattlers  owed  a  sire : 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  235 

Even  the  rough  soldier's  heart  was  moved  j 

As  if  behind  some  bier  beloved, 

With  trailing  arms  and  drooping  head, 

The  Douglas  up  the  hill  he  led. 

And  at  the  Castle's  battled  verge, 

With  sighs,  resigned  his  honoured  charge. 

XXX. 

The  offended  Monarch  rode  apait. 
With  bitter  thought  and  swelling  heart, 
And  would  not  now  vouchsafe  again 
Through  Stirling  streets  to  lead  his  train. 
"  O  Lennox,  who  would  wish  to  rule 
This  changeling  crowd,  this  common  fool .'' 
Hear'st  thou,"  he  said,  "  the  loud  acclaim. 
With  which  tliey  shout  the  Douglas  name  ? 
With  like  acclaim,  the  vulgar  throat 
Strained  for  King  James  their  morning  note ; 
With  like  acclaim  they  hailed  the  day 
When  first  I  broke  the  Douglas  sway  ; 


236 


THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  V- 


And  like  acclaim  would  Douirlas  ffreet. 
If  he  could  hurl  me  from  my  seat. 
Who  o'er  the  herd  would  wish  to  reiffu. 
Fantastic,  fickle,  fierce,  and  vain  ! 
Vain  as  the  leaf  upon  the  stream, 
And  fickle  as  a  changeful  dream  ; 
Fantastic  as  a  woman's  mood. 
And  fierce  as  Frenzy's  fevered  blood. 
Thou  many-headed  monster- thing, 
O  who  would  wish  to  be  thy  king  ! — 


XXXL 

*'  But  soft !  what  messenger  of  speed 

Spurs  hitherward  his  panting  steed  .'' 

I  guess  his  cognizance  afar — 

What  from  our  cousin,  John  of  Mar  .'" 

'*  He  prays,  my  liege,  your  sports  keep  bound 

Within  the  safe  and  guarded  ground  : 

For  some  foul  purpose  yet  unknown, — 

Most  sure  for  evil  to  the  throne, — 


)>> 


CANTO  V.  THE  COMBAT.  237 

The  outlawed  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dhu, 

Has  summoned  his  rebellious  crew  ; 

'Tis  said,  in  James  of  Bothwell's  aid 

These  loose  banditti  stand  arrayed. 

The  Earl  of  Mar,  this  morn,  from  Doune, 

To  break  their  muster  marched,  and  soon 

Your  grace  will  hear  of  battle  fought ; 

But  earnestly  the  Earl  besought, 

Till  for  such  danger  he  provide, 

With  scanty  train  you  will  not  ride." — 

XXXII. 

"  Thou  warn'st  me  I  have  done  amiss, — 
I  should  have  earlier  looked  to  this : 
I  lost  it  in  this  bustling  day. 
— Retrace  with  speed  thy  former  way ; 
Spare  not  for  spoiling  of  thy  steed, 
The  best  of  mine  shall  be  thy  meed. 
Say  to  our  faithful  Lord  of  Mar, 
We  do  forbid  the  intended  war  ; 


'23b 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  V. 


Roderick,  this  morn,  in  single  fight, 
Was  made  our  .prisoner  by  a  knight, 
And  Douglas  hath  himself  and  cause 
Submitted  to  our  kingdom's  laws. 
The  tidings  of  their  leaders  lost 
Will  soon  dissolve  the  mountain  host, 
^or  would  we  that  the  vulgar  feel, 
J'or  their  ChiePs  crimes,  avenging  steel. 
Bear  Mar  our  message,  Braco,  fly  !" — 
He  turned  his  steed, — *'  My  liege,  I  hie, 
Yet,  ere  I  cross  this  lily  lawn, 
I  fear  the  broad-swords  will  be  drawn." — 
The  turf  the  flying  courser  spurned. 
And  to  his  towers  the  King  returned. 


XXXIII. 

Ill  with  King  James's  mood  that  day, 
Suited  gay  feast  and  minstrel  lay ; 
Soon  were  dismissed  the  courtly  throng, 
And  soon  cut  short  the  festal  song. 


.\A 


CAKTO  V  THE  COMBAT.  SIO 

Nor  less  upon  the  saddened  town 
The  evening  sunk  in  sorrow  down  j 
The  burghers  spoke  of  civil  jar, 
Of  rumoured  feuds  and  mountain  war, 
Of  Moray,  Mar,  and  Roderick  Dhu, 
All  up  in  arms : — the  Douglas  too, 
They  mourned  him  pent  within  the  hold, 
**  Where  stout  Earl  William  was  of  old,"* — 
And  there  his  word  the  speaker  staid, 
And  finger  on  his  lip  he  laid, 
Or  pointed  to  his  dagger  blade. 
But  jaded  horsemen,  from  the  west. 
At  evening  to  the  Castle  pressed  ; 
And  busy  talkers  said  they  bore 
Tidings  of  fight  on  Katrine's  shore ; 
At  noon  the  deadly  fray  begun, 
And  lasted  till  the  set  of  sun. 
Thus  giddy  rumour  shook  the  town, 
Till  closed  the  Night  her  pennons  brown. 
*  Stabbed  by  James  11.  in  Stirling  Castle. 

END  OF  CANTO  FIFTH. 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  SIXTH. 


'Cge  dDuacti^KoDtttt 


I 


THE 


LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  SIXTH. 


Cge  dDuacli^Eoom* 


I. 

1  HE  sun,  awakening,  through  the  smoky  air 

Of  the  dark  city  casts  a  sullen  glance, 
Rousing  each  caitiff  to  his  task  of  care, 

Of  sinful  man  the  sad  inheritance  ; 
Summoning  revellers  from  the  lagging  dance, 

Scaring  the  prowHng  robber  to  his  den  ; 
Gilding  on  battled  tower  the  warder's  lance, 

And  warning  student  jiale  to  leave  his  pen. 
And  yield  his  drowsy  eyes  to  the  kind  nurse  of  men. 


244  THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  VI. 

What  various  scenes,  and,  O  !  what  scenes  of  woe. 
Are  witnessed  by  that  red  and  struggling  beam  ! 

The  fevered  patient,  from  his  pallet  low. 

Through  crowded  hospital  beholds  it  stream  ; 

The  ruined  maiden  trembles  at  its  gleam. 

The  debtor  wakes  to  thought  of  gyve  and  jail, 

The  love-lorn  wretch  starts  from  tormenting  dream ; 
The  wakeful  mother,  by  the  glimmering  pale. 

Trims  her  sick  infant's  couch,  and  sooths  his  feeble 
wail. 

11. 
At  dawn  the  towers  of  Stirling  rang 
With  soldier-step  and  weapon-clang. 
While  drums,  with  rolling  note,  foretell 
Relief  to  weary  centinel. 
Through  narrow  loop  and  casement  barr'd, 
The  sunbeams  sought  the  Court  of  Guard, 
And,  struggling  with  the  smoky  air, 
Deadened  the  torches*  yellow  glare. 


CANTO  vr.  THE  GUARD-'ROOM.  245 

In  comfortless  alliance  shone 
The  lights  through  arch  of  blackened  stone, 
And  showed  wild  shapes  in  garb  of  war. 
Faces  deformed  with  beard  and  scar. 
All  haggard  from  the  midnight  watch, 
And  fevered  with  the  stern  debauch  ; 
For  the  oak  table's  massive  board, 
Flooded  with  wine,  with  fragments  stored. 
And  beakers  drained,  and  cups  o'erthrown. 
Showed  in  what  sport  the  night  had  flown. 
Some,  weary,  snored  on  floor  and  bench  ; 
Some  laboured  still  their  thirst  to  quench  ; 
Some,  chilled  with  watching,  spread  their  hands 
0*er  the  huge  chimney's  dying  brands, 
While  round  them,  or  beside  them  flung. 
At  every  step  their  harness  rung. 

III. 

These  drew  not  for  their  fields  the  sword, 
Like  tenants  of  a  feudal  lord, 


246         THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

Nor  owned  the  patriarchal  claim 

Of  Chieftain  in  their  leader's  name ; 

Adventurers  they,  from  far  who  roved, 

To  live  by  battle  which  they  loved. 

There  the  Italian's  clouded  face, 

The  swarthy  Spaniard's  there  you  trace ; 

The  mountain-loving  Switzer  there 

More  freely  breathed  in  mountain-air ; 

The  Fleming  there  despised  the  soil, 

That  paid  so  ill  the  labourer's  toil ; 

Their  rolls  shewed  French  and  German  name  j 

And  merry  England's  exiles  came, 

To  share,  with  ill-concealed  disdain. 

Of  Scotland's  pay  the  scanty  gain. 

All  brave  in  arms,  well  trained  to  wield 

The  heavy  halbert,  brand,  and  shield  j 

In  camps  Hcentious,  wild,  and  bold ; 

In  pillage,  fierce  and  micontrouled  ; 

And  now,  by  holytide  and  feast, 

From  rules  of  discipline  released. 

9 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  247 


IV. 

They  held  debate  of  bloody  fi-ay, 

Fought  'twixt  Loch- Katrine  and  Achray. 

Fierce  was  their  speech,  and,  mid  their  words^ 

Their  hands  oft  grappled  to  their  swords  ; 

Nor  sunk  their  tone  to  spare  the  ear 

Of  wounded  comrades  groaning  near, 

Whose  mangled  limbs,  and  bodies  gored. 

Bore  token  of  the  mountain  sword. 

Though,  neighbouring  to  the  Court  of  Guard, 

Their  prayers  and  feverish  wails  were  heard  ; — 

Sad  burden  to  the  ruffian  joke. 

And  savage  oath  by  fury  spoke  ! — 

At  length  up-started  John  of  Brent, 

A  yeoman  from  the  banks  of  Trent ; 

A  stranger  to  respect  or  fear. 

In  peace  a  chaser  of  the  deer, 

In  host  a  hardy  mutineer. 

But  still  the  boldest  of  the  crew, 

When  deed  of  danger  was  to  do. 


248        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

He  grieved,  that  day  their  games  cut  short. 

And  marr*d  the  dicer's  brawling  sport, 

And  shouted  loud,  "  Renew  the  bowl ! 

And,  while  a  merry  catch  I  troll. 

Let  each  the  buxom  chorus  bear, 

Like  brethren  of  the  brand  and  spear."— 

V.  I 

Our  vicar  still  preaches  that  Peter  and  Poule 
Laid  a  swinging  long  curse  on  the  bonny  brown  bowl. 
That  there's  wrath  and  despair  in  the  jolly  black  jack, 
And  the  seven  deadly  sins  in  a  flaggon  of  sack ; 

Yet  whoop,  Barnaby  !  off  with  thy  liquor. 
Drink  upsees  *  out,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar  ! 

Our  vicar  he  calls  it  damnation  to  sip 
The  ripe  ruddy  dew  of  a  woman's  dear  lip, 
Says,  that  Belzebub  lurks  in  her  kerchief  so  sly. 
And  Apollyon  shoots  darts  from  her  merry  black  eye  ;. 
*  A  Bacchanalian  interjection,  borrowed  from  the  Dutch. 


GANTO  vr.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  249 

Yet  whoop,  Jack  !  kiss  Gillian  the  quicker, 

Till  she  bloom  like  a  rose,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar  ! 

Our  vicar  thus  preaches — and  why  should  he  not  ? 
For  the  dues  of  his  cure  are  the  placket  and  pot ; 
And  'tis  I'ight  of  his  office  poor  laymen  to  lurch, 
Wlio  infiinge   the   domains    of  our   good   mothef 

Church. 
Yet  whoop,  bully-boys  !  off  with  your  liquor. 
Sweet  Marjorie's  the  word,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar  ! 

VI. 

The  warder's  challenge,  heard  without, 

Staid  in  mid-roar  the  merry  shout. 

A  soldier  to  the  portal  went, — 

"  Here  is  old  Bertram,  sirs,  of  Ghent; 

And,  beat  for  jubilee  the  drum  ! 

A  maid  and  minstrel  with  him  come." — 

Bertram,  a  Fleming,  grey  and  scarr'd, 

Was  entering  now  tlie  Court  of  Guard, 


I 


250       THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  VI. 

A  harper  with  him,  and,  in  plaid 

All  muffled  close,  a  mountain  maid. 

Who  backward  shrunk  to  'scape  the  view 

Of  the  loose  scene  and  boisterous  crew. 

*'  What  news  ?"  they  roared  : — "  I  only  know. 

From  noon  till  eve  we  fought  with  foe, 

As  wild  and  as  untameable, 

As  the  rude  mountains  where  they  dwell. 

On  both  sides  store  of  blood  is  lost, 

Nor  much  success  can  either  boast." —  j^ 

*'  But  whence  thy  captives,  friend  ?  such  spoil 

As  theirs  must  needs  reward  thy  toil. 

Old  dost  thou  wax,  and  wars  grow  sharp  \ 

Thou  now  hast  glee-maiden  and  harp, 

Get  thee  an  ape,  and  trudge  the  land. 

The  leader  of  a  juggler  band." —  • 

VII. 

"  No,  comrade ; — no  such  fortune  mine. 
After  the  fight,  these  sought  our  line, 


I 


CANTO  Vr.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  251 

That  aged  harper  and  the  girl, 

And,  having  audience  of  the  Earl, 

Mar  bade  I  should  purvey  them  steed. 

And  bring  them  hitherward  with  speed. 

Forbear  your  mirth  and  rude  alarm, 

For  none  shall  do  them  shame  or  harm." — 

**  Hear  ye  his  boast  I"  cried  John  of  Brent, 

Ever  to  strife  and  jangling  bent, — 

"  Shall  he  strike  doe  beside  our  lodge. 

And  yet  the  jealous  niggard  grudge 

To  pay  the  forester  his  fee  ! 

I'll  have  my  share  howe'er  it  be, 

Despite  of  Moray,  Mar,  or  thee." — 

Bertram  his  forward  step  withstood  ; 

And,  burning  in  his  vengeful  mood, 

Old  Allan,  though  unfit  for  strife. 

Laid  hand  upon  his  dagger-knife  ; 

But  Ellen  boldly  stcpp'd  between, 

And  dropp'd  at  once  the  tartan  screen  ; — 

So,  from  his  morning  cloud,  appears 

The  sun  of  May,  through  summer  tears. 


252        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

The  savage  soldiery,  amazed. 
As  on  descended  angel  gazed  ^ 
Even  hardy  Brent,  abashed  and  tamed, 
Stood  half  admiring,  half  ashamed. 

VIII. 

Boldly  she  spoke, — "  Soldiers,  attend  ! 

My  father  was  the  soldier's  friend  j 

Cheered  him  in  camps,  in  marches  led, 

And  with  him  in  the  battle  bled.  1 

Not  from  the  vahant,  or  the  strong, 

Should  exile's  daughter  suffer  wrong." — 

Answered  De  Brent,  most  forward  stiU 

In  every  feat  or  good  or  ill, — 

"  I  shame  me  of  the  part  I  played; 

And  thou  an  outlaw's  child,  poor  maid  ! 

An  outlaw  I  by  Forest  laws, 

And  merry  Needwood  knows  the  cause. 

Poor  Rose,— if  Rose  be  hving  now,"— 

He  wiped  his  iron  eye  and  brow, 

"  Must  bear  such  age,  I  think,  as  thou. — 


I 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  253 

Hear  ye,  my  mates  ; — I  go  to  call 
The  Captain  of  our  watch  to  hall : 
There  lies  my  halbert  on  the  floor  ; 
And  he  that  steps  my  halbert  o'er, 
To  do  the  maid  injurioijs  part, 
My  shaft  shall  quiver  in  his  heart ! — 
Beware  loose  speech,  or  jesting  rough  : 
Ye  aP  know  John  de  Brent.     Enough." — 

IX. 

Their  Captain  came,  a  gallant  young, — 
(Of  TuUibardine's  house  he  sprung,) 
Nor  wore  he  yet  the  spurs  of  knight ; 
Gay  was  his  mien,  his  humour  light. 
And,  though  by  courtesy  controuled, 
Forward  his  speech,  his  bearing  bold. 
The  high-born  maiden  ill  could  brook 
The  scanning  of  his  curious  look 
And  dauntless  eye ; — and,  yet,  in  sooth, 
Young  Lewis  was  a  generous  youth  ; 


251         THE    LADY  OP  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

But  Ellen's  lovely  face  and  mien, 

Ill-suited  to  the  garb  and  scene, 

Might  lightly  bear  construction  strange, 

And  give  loose  fancy  scope  to  range. 

— "  Welcome  to  Stirling  towers,  fair  maid  ! 

Come  ye  to  seek  a  champion's  aid, 

On  palfrey  white,  with  harper  hoar. 

Like  arrant  damosel  of  yore  ? 

Does  thy  high  qu!est  a  knight  require, 

Or  may  the  venture  suit  a  squire  ?" — 

Her  dark  eye  flashed ; — she  paused  and  sighed,- 

"  O  what  have  I  to  do  with  pride  ! — 

— Through  scenes  of  sorrow,  shame,  and  strife, 

A  suppliant  for  a  father's  life, 

I  crave  an  audience  of  the  King. 

Behold,  to  back  my  suit,  a  ring, 

The  royal  pledge  of  grateful  claims, 

Given  by  the  Monarch  to  Fitz-James." — 


J 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  255 

X. 

The  signet  ring  young  Lewis  took, 
With  deep  respect  and  altered  look ; 
And  said, — "  This  ring  our  duties  ownj 
And,  pardon,  if  to  worth  unknown, 
In  semblance  mean  obscurely  veiled. 
Lady,  in  aught  my  folly  failed. 
Soon  as  the  day  flings  wide  his  gates. 
The  King  shall  know  what  suitor  waits. 
Please  you,  meanwhile,  in  fitting  bower 
Repose  you  till  his  waking  hour  ; 
Female  attendance  shall  obey 
Your  hest,  for  service  or  array. 
Permit  I  marshal  you  the  way." — 
But,  ere  she  followed,  with  the  grace 
And  open  bounty  of  her  race, 
She  bade  her  slender  purse  be  shared 
Among  the  soldiers  of  the  guard. 


256         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

The  rest  with  thanks  their  guerdon  took  ; 

But  Brent,  with  shy  and  awkward  look, 

On  the  reluctant  maiden's  hold 

Forced  bluntly  back  the  proffered  gold  ; — 

"  Forgive  a  haughty  English  heart. 

And  O  forget  its  ruder  part ! 

The  vacant  purse  shall  be  my  share,. tuatj 

Which  in  my  barret-cap  I'll  bear. 

Perchance,  in  jeopardy  of  war. 

Where  gayer  crests  may  keep  afar.'* — 

With  thanks, — 'twas  all  she  could, — the  maid 

His  rugged  courtesy  repaid.  u ,  ..  ^  ^ . 

XI. 

When  EUen  forth  with  Lewis  went, 

Allan  made  suit  to  John  of  Brent : — 

"  My  lady  safe,  O  let  your  grace      '<"'^  '  ^•'^ 

Give  me  to  see  my  master's  face  ! 

His  minstrel  I, — to  share  his  doom 

Bound  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb. 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  257 

Tenth  in  descent,  since  first  my  sires 
Waked  for  his  noble  house  their  lyres, 
Nor  one  of  all  the  race  was  known 
But  prized  its  weal  above  tlieir  own. 
With  the  Chief's  birth  begins  our  care ; 
Our  harp  must  sooth  the  infant  heir, 
Teach  the  youth  tales  of  fight,  and  grace 
His  earliest  feat  of  field  or  chase  ; 
In  peace,  in  war,  our  rank  we  keep, 
We  cheer  his  board,  we  sooth  his  sleep, 
Nor  leave  him  till  we  pour  our  verse, 
A  doleful  tribute  !  o'er  his  hearse. 
Then  let  me  share  his  captive  lot ; 
It  is  my  right — deny  it  not  !" — 
**  Little  we  reck,"  said  John  of  Brent, 
**  We  Southern  men,  of  long  descent ; 
Nor  wot  we  how  a  name — a  word — 
Makes  clansmen  vassals  to  a  lord  : 
Yet  kind  my  noble  landlord's  part, — 
God  bless  the  liouse  of  Beaudesert ! 


«58        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  VL 

And,  but  I  loved  to  drive  the  deer,  ,  .^^  ,7,,,  / 
More  than  to  guide  the  labouring  steer,         ■/• 
I  had  not  dwelt  an  outcast  here.  .'A 

Come,  good  old  Minstrel,  follow  me ; 
Thy  Lord  and  Chieftain  shalt  thou  see."— 

XII. 

Then,  from  a  rusted  iron  hook, 
A  bunch  of  ponderous  keys  he  took, 
Lighted  a  torch,  and  Allan  led 
Through  grated  arch  and  passage  dre^d. 
Portals  they  passed,  where  deep  withiii, 
Spoke  prisoner's  moan,  and  fetters'  din  ; 
Throuo-h  rugged  vaults,  where,  loosely  stored, 
Lay  wheel,  and  axe,  and  headsman's  sword, 
And  many  an  hideous  engine  grim, 
For  wrenching  joint,  and  crushing  limb,,       >E 
By  artists  formed,  who  deemed  it  shame         /. 
And  sin  to  give  their  work  a  name.      >•>-<'  ■^(■'T 
They  halted  at  a  low-browed  porch,  .  ; 

And  Brent  to  Allan  gave  the  torch, 


CANTO  vr.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  259 

• 

While  bolt  and  chain  he  backward  roDed, 

And  made  the  bar  unhasp  its  hold. 

They  entered  : — 'twas  a  prison-room 

Of  stern  security  and  gloom, 

Yet  not  a  dungeon  ;  for  the  day 

Through  lofty  gratings  found  its  way, 

And  rude  and  antique  garniture 

Decked  the  sad  walls  and  oaken  floor ; 

Such  as  the  rugged  days  of  old, 

Deem'd  fit  for  captive  noble's  hold. 

*'  Here,"  said  De  Brent,  "  thou  may'st  remain 

Till  the  Leach  visit  him  again. 

Strict  is  his  charge,  the  warders  tell. 

To  tend  the  noble  prisoner  well." — 

Retiring  then  the  bolt  he  drew. 

And  the  lock's  murmurs  growl'd  anew. 

Roused  at  the  sound,  from  lowly  bed 

A  Captive  feebly  raised  his  liead  ; 

The  wondering  Minstrel  looked,  and  knew 

Not  his  dear  lord,  but  Uodei'ick  Dhu  ! 


260        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  VI. 

For,  come  from  where  Clan- Alpine,  fought. 
They,  erring,  deemed  the  Chief  he  sought. 

XIII. 

As  the  tall  ship,  whose  lofty  prore 
Shall  never  stem  the  billows  more, 
Deserted  by  her  gallant  band, 
Amid  the  breakers  lies  astrand, — 
So,  on  his  couch,  lay  Roderick  Dhu  ! 
And  oft  his  fevered  limbs  he  threw 
In  toss  abrupt,  as  when  her  sides 
Lie  rocking  in  the  advancing  tides. 
That  shake  her  frame  with  ceaseless  beat. 
Yet  cannot  heave  her  from  her  seat  j — 
O  !  how  unlike  her  course  on  sea  ! 
Or  his  free  step  on  hill  and  lea  ! — 
Soon  as  the  Minstrel  he  could  scan, 
— '*  What  of  thy  lady  ? — of  my  clan  ? — 
My  mother  ? — Douglas  ? — tell  me  all ! 
Have  they  been  ruined  in  my  fall  ? 


GANTOVI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  261 

Ah,  yes  !  or  wherefore  art  thou  here  ! 

Yet  speak, — speak  boldly, — do  not  fear.** — 

(For  Allan,  who  his  mood  well  knew. 

Was  choked  with  grief  and  terror  too.) — 

"  Who  fought — who  fled  ! — Old  man,  be  brief  ;- 

Some  might — for  they  had  lost  their  Chief. 

Who  basely  live  ? — who  bravely  died  ?" — 

"  O,  calm  thee.  Chief!"  the  Minstrel  cried, 

*'  Ellen  is  safe ;" — "  For  that,  thank  heaven  !" 

"  And  hopes  arc  for  the  Douglas  given  ; — 

The  Lady  Margaret  too  is  well. 

And,  for  thy  clan, — on  field  or  fell. 

Has  never  harp  of  minstrel  told, 

Of  combat  fought  so  true  and  bold. 

Thy  stately  pine  is  yet  imbent. 

Though  many  a  goodly  bough  is  rent.'* — 

XIV. 
The  Chieftain  reared  his  form  on  high, 
And  fever's  fire  was  in  his  eye  ; 


•262         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

]3ut  ghastly,  pale,  and  livid  streaks       ''^^^  ''^'Q- 

Chequered  his  swarthy  brow  and  cheeks.      ^^ 

— *'  Hark,  Minstrel  !  I  have  heard  thee  playf 

With  measure  bold  on  festal  day,  ^    -•  ^^ 

In  yon  lone  isle,  .  .  .  again  where  ne'er  ''^ 

Shall  harper  play,  or  warrior  hear  !  .  .  .  ■- 

That  stirring  air  that  peals  on  high, 

O'er  Dermid's  race  our  victory. —  -  if 

Strike  it ! — and  then,  (for  well  thou  canst,) 

Free  from  thy  minstrel-spirit  glanced, 

Fling  me  the  picture  of  the  fight, 

When  met  my  clan  the  Saxon  might. 

I'll  listen,  till  my  fancy  hears 

The  clang  of  swords,  the  crash  of  spears  ! 

These  grates,  these  walls,  shall  vanish  then. 

For  the  fair  field  of  fighting  men. 

And  my  free  spirit  burst  away. 

As  if  it  soared  from  battle-fray." — 

The  trembling  bard  with  awe  obeyed, — • 

Slow  on  the  harp  his  hand  he  laid  ; 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  268 

But  soon  remembrance  of  the  sight 
He  witnessed  from  the  mountain's  height, 
With  what  old  Bertram  told  at  night, 
Awakened  the  full  power  of  song. 
And  bore  him  in  career  along  ; — 
As  shallop  launched  on  river's  tide, 
That  slow  and  fearful  leaves  the  side, 
But,  when  it  feels  the  middle  stream, 
Drives  downward  swift  as  lightning's  beani. 

XV. 

Battle  of  Beal '  an  SDuine* 

**  The  Minstrel  came  once  more  to  view 
The  eastern  ridge  of  Ben-venue, 
For,  ere  he  parted,  he  would  say 
Farewell  to  lovely  Loch-Achray — 
Where  shall  he  find,  in  foreign  land, 
So  lone  a  lake,  so  sweet  a  strand  ! — 

There  is  no  breeze  upon  the  fern, 

No  ripple  on  the  lake, 


264       THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  VI. 

Upon  her  eyrie  nods  the  erne. 

The  deer  has  sought  the  brake  f 
The  small  birds  will  not  sing  aloud, 

1  he  springing  trout  Ues  still, 
So  darkly  glooms  yon  thunder  cloud. 
That  swathes,  as  with  a  purple  shroud, 

Benledi's  distant  hill. 
Is  it  the  thunder's  solemn  sound 

That  mutters  deep  and  dread,  f 

Or  echoes  from  the  groaning  ground 

The  warriors'  measured  tread  ? 
Is  it  the  lightning's  quivering  glance 

That  on  the  thicket  streams. 
Or  do  they  flash  on  spear  and  lance 
The  sun's  retiring  beams  ? 
— I  see  the  dagger-crest  of  Mar, 
I  see  the  Moray's  silver  star. 
Wave  o'er  the  cloud  of  Saxon  war, 
That  up  the  lake  comes  winding  far  ! 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  265 

To  hero  boune  for  battle-strife, 

Or  bard  of  martial  lay, 
'Twere  worth  ten  years  of  peaceful  life, 

One  glance  at  their  array  ! 

XVI. 

"  Their  light-armed  archers  far  and  near 

Surveyed  the  tangled  ground. 
Their  centre  ranks,  with  pike  and  spear, 

A  twilight  forest  frowned. 
Their  barded  horsemen,  in  the  rear. 

The  stern  battalia  crowned. 
No  cymbal  clashed,  no  clarion  rang. 

Still  were  the  pipe  and  drum  j 
Save  heavy  tread,  and  armour's  clang, 

The  sullen  march  was  dumb. 
There  breathed  no  wind  their  crests  to  shake, 

Or  wave  their  flags  abroad  j 
Scarce  the  fi-ail  aspen  seemed  to  quake. 

That  shadowed  o'er  their  road. 


266        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.       CANTO  VI. 

Their  vaward  scouts  no  tidings  bring. 

Can  rouse  no  lurking  foe, 
Nor  spy  a  trace  of  living  thing. 

Save  when  they  stirred  the  roe ; 
The  host  moves,  hke  a  deep-sea  wave, 
Where  rise  no  rocks  its  pride  to  brave, 

High-swelling,  dark,  and  slow. 
The  lake  is  passed,  and  now  they  gain 
A  narrow  and  a  broken  plain. 
Before  the  Trosach's  rugged  jaws ; 
And  here  the  horse  and  spear-men  pause, 
While,  to  explore  the  dangerous  glen, 
Dive  through  the  pass  the  archer-men. 

XVII. 

**  At  once  there  rose  so  wild  a  yell 
Within  that  dark  and  narrow  dell. 
As  all  the  fiends,  from  heaven  that  fell. 
Had  pealed  the  banner-cry  of  hell  I 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  26T 

Forth  from  the  pass  in  tumult  driven, 
Like  chaflP  before  the  wind  of  heaven. 

The  archery  appear : 
For  life  !  for  life  !  their  flight  they  ply — 
And  shriek,  and  shout,  and  battle-cry, 
And  plaids,  and  bonnets  waving  high, 
And  broad-swords  flashing  to  the  sky, 
Are  maddening  in  their  rear. 
Onward  they  drive,  in  dreadful  race. 

Pursuers  and  pursued ; 
Before  that  tide  of  flight  and  chase, 
How  shall  it  keep  its  rooted  place. 
The  spearmen's  twilight  wood  ? 
— *  Down,  down,'  cried  Mar,  '  your  lances  down  ! 

Bear  back  both  friend  and  foe  !* 
Like  reeds  before  the  tempest's  frown, 
That  serried  grove  of  lances  brown 

At  once  lay  levell'd  low  ; 
And  closely  shouldering  side  to  side, 
The  bristling  ranks  the  onset  bide. — 


268         THE    LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      8ANT0  VT. 

— *  We'll  quell  the  savage  mountaineer, 

As  their  Tinchel  *  cows  the  game  ! 
They  come  as  fleet  as  forest  deer, 

We'll  drive  them  back  as  tame.* — 

XVIII. 

"  Bearing  before  them,  in  their  course. 
The  relics  of  the  archer  force, 
Like  wave  with  crest  of  sparkling  foam, 
Right  onward  did  Clan- Alpine  come. 

Above  the  tide,  each  broad-sword  bright 

Was  brandishing  like  beam  of  light, 
Each  targe  was  dark  below  ; 

And  with  the  ocean's  mighty  swing,  1 

When  heaving  to  the  tempest's  wing. 
They  hurled  them  on  the  foe. 


*  A  circle  of  sportsmen,  who,  by  surrounding  a  great  space, 
and  gradually  narrowing,  brought  immense  quantities  of  deer  to- 
gether, wliich  usually  made  desperate  efforts  to  break  through 
fhe  Tinchel. 


CANT0  vr.  THE  GUARD- ROOM.  265 

I  heard  the  lance's  shivering  crash, 
As  when  the  whirl- wind  rends  tlie  ash ; 
I  heard  the  broad-swords  deadly  clang, 
As  if  an  hundred  anvils  rang  ! 
But  Moray  wheeled  his  rear-ward  rank 
Of  horsemen  on  Clan- Alpine's  flanl^ — 

— '  My  banner-man,  advance  ! 

I  see,'  he  cried,  *  their  column  shake. — 

Now,  gallants  !  for  your  ladies'  sake. 

Upon  them  with  the  lance  !' — ■ 

The  horsemen  dashed  among  the  route, 

As  deer  break  through  the  broom  ; 
Their  steeds  are  stout,  their  swords  are  out, 

They  soon  make  lightsome  room. 
Clan- Alpine's  best  are  backward  borne — 

Where,  where,  was  Roderick  then  ! 
One  blast  upon  his  bugle-horn 

Were  worth  a  thousand  men. 
And  refluent  through  the  pass  of  fear 

The  battle's  tide  was  pour'd  j 


270        THE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

Vanished  the  Saxon's  struggling  spear, 

Vanished  the  mountain  sword. 
As  Bracklinn's  chasm,  so  black  and  steep, 

Receives  her  roaring  linn, 
As  the  dark  caverns  of  the  deep 

Suck  the  wild  whirlpool  in, 
So  did  the  deep  and  darksome  pass 
Devour  the  battle's  mingled  mass ; 
None  linger  now  upon  the  plain, 
Save  those  who  ne'er  shall  fight  again. 

XIX. 

"  Now  westward  rolls  the  battle's  din. 

That  deep  and  doubling  pass  within. 

— Minstrel,  away  !  the  work  of  fate 

Is  bearing  on  :  its  issue  wait. 

Where  the  rude  Trosach's  dread  defile 

Opens  on  Katrine's  lake  and  isle. — 

Grey  Benvenue  I  soon  repassed. 

Loch- Katrine  lay  beneath  me  cast.  * " 


CANTO  VI.         THE  GUARD-ROOM.  271 

The  sun  is  set ; — the  clouds  are  met, 
The  lowering  scowl  of  heaven 

An  inky  hue  of  hvid  blue  jia  >m 

To  the  deep  lake  has  given ; 
Strange  gusts  of  wind  from  mountain  glen 
Swept  o*er  the  lake,  then  sunk  agen. 
I  heeded  not  the  eddying  surge. 
Mine  eye  but  saw  the  Trosach*s  gorge. 
Mine  ear  but  heard  that  sullen  sound, 
Which  like  an  earth-quake  shook  the  ground, 
And  spoke  the  stern  and  desperate  strife 
That  parts  not  but  with  parting  life. 
Seeming,  to  minstrei-ear,  to  toll 
The  dirge  of  many  a  passing  soul. 

Nearer  it  comes — the  dim-wood  glen 

The  martial  flood  disgorged  agen. 
But  not  in  mingled  tide ; 
The  plaided  warriors  of  the  Nortli 
High  on  the  mountain  thunder  forth, 

And  overhajig  its  side ; 


272         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  Vr. 

While  by  the  lake  below  appears 

The  dark*ning  cloud  of  Saxon  spears. 

At  weary  bay  each  shattered  band, 

Eyeing  their  foemen,  sternly  stand  ; 

Their  banners  stream  like  tatter'd  sail,  | 

That  flings  its  fragments  to  the  gale, 

And  broken  arms  and  disarray 

Marked  the  fell  havock  of  the  day. 

XX. 

"  Viewing  the  mountain's  ridge  askance, 
The  Saxons  stood  in  sullen  trance, 
Till  Moray  pointed  with  his  lance. 

And  cried — '  Behold  yon  isle  ! — 
See  !  none  are  left  to  guard  its  strand. 
But  women  weak,  that  wring  the  hand  : 
*Tis  there  of  yore  the  robber  band 

Their  booty  wont  to  pile  j — 
My  purse,  with  bonnet-pieces  store. 
To  him  will  swim  a  bow-shot  o'er, 
And  loose  a  shallop  from  the  shore. 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  275 

Lightly  we'll  tame  the  war-wolf  then, 
Lords  of  his  mate,  and  brood,  and  den.' — 
Forth  from  the  ranks  a  spearman  spi-ung, 
On  earth  his  casque  and  corslet  rung. 

He  plunged  him  in  the  wave  : — 
Ail  saw  the  deed — the  purpose  knew. 
And  to  their  clamours  Benvenue 

A  mingled  echo  gave ; 
The  Saxons  shout,  their  mate  to  cheer, 
The  helpless  females  scream  for  fear, 
And  yells  for  rage  the  mountaineer. 
'Twas  then,  as  by  the  outcry  riven. 
Poured  down  at  once  the  lowering  heaven  ; 
A  whirlwind  swept  Loch-Katrine's  breast. 
Her  billows  reared  their  snowy  crest. 
Well  for  the  swimmer  swelled  they  high, 
To  mar  the  Highland  marksman's  eye  ; 
For  roujid  him  showered,  'mid  rain  and  haij. 
The  vengeful  arrows  of  the  Gael. — 
In  vain. — He  nears  the  isle — and  lo  ! 
His  hand  is  on  a  shallop's  bow. 


274       THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.       CANTO  Vr.. 

— Just  then  a  flash  of  lightning  came,  - 

It  tinged  the  waves  and  strand  with  flame ; —  .^ 

I  marked  Duncraggan's  widowed  dame. 

Behind  an  oak  I  saw  her  stand, 

A  naked  dirk  gleamed  in  her  hand  : — 

It  darkened, — but  amid  the  moan  A 

Of  waves  I  heard  a  dying  groan  ; — 

Another  flash  ! — the  spearman  floats 

A  weltering  corse  beside  the  boats. 

And  the  stern  Matron  o'er  him  stood, 

Her  hand  and  dagger  streaming  blood. 

XXI. 

*'  Revenge  !  revenge  !"  the  Saxons  cried, 
The  Gaels*  exulting  shout  replied. 
Despite  the  elemental  rage, 
Again  they  hurried  to  engage  ; 
But,  ere  they  closed  in  desperate  fight. 
Bloody  with  spurring  came  a  knight. 
Sprung  from  his  horse,  and,  from  a  crag, 
Waved  'twixt  the  hosts  a  milk-white  flag- 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  27.^ 

Clarion  and  trumpet  by  his  ^de 

Rung  forth  a  truce-note  high  and  wide, 

While,  in  the  monarch's  name,  afar 

An  herald's  voice  forebade  the  war, 

For  BothwcU's  lord,  and  Roderick  bold. 

Were  both,  he  said,  in  captive  hold." 

— But  here  the  lay  made  sudden  stand. 

The  harp  escaped  the  Minstrel's  hand  ! — 

Oft  had  he  stolen  a  glance,  to  spy 

How  Roderick  brooked  his  minstrelsy  : 

At  first,  the  Chieftain,  to  the  chime, 

With  lifted  hand,  kept  feeble  time  ; 

That  motion  ceased, — yet  feeling  strong 

Varied  his  look  as  changed  the  sons  ; 

At  length,  no  more  his  deafened  ear 

The  minstrel  melody  can  hear  ; 

His  face  grows  sharp, — his  hands  are  clenched, 

As  if  some  pang  his  heart-strings  wrenched  ; 

Set  are  his  teeth,  his  fading  eye 

Is  sternly  fixed  on  vacancy ; — 


276         THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

Thiis,  motionless,  and  moanless,  drew 

His  parting  breath,  stout  Roderick  Dhu  ! — 

Old  Allan-bane  looked  on  aghast. 

While  grim  and  still  his  spirit  passed  j 

But  when  he  saw  that  life  was  fled, 

He  poured  his  wailing  o'er  the  dead. 

XXII. 

"  And  art  thou  cold,  and  lowly  laid, 
Thy  foeman's  dread,  thy  people's  aid, 
Breadalbane's  boast,  CJan  Alpine's  shade  ! 
For  thee  shall  none  a  requiem  say  ? 
— For  thee,  who  loved  the  minstrel's  lay. 
For  thoe,  of  Bothwell's  house  the  stay, 
The  shelter  of  her  exiled  line, 
E'en  in  this  prison-house  of  thine, 
I'll  wail  for  Alpine's  honoured  pine  ! 

"  What  groans  shall  yonder  vallies  fill ! 
What  shrieks  of  grief  shall  rend  yon  hill ! 


CANTO  vr.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  277 

What  tears  of  burning  rage  shall  thrill, 
When  mourns  thy  tribe  thy  battles  done, 
Thy  fall  before  the  race  was  won. 
Thy  sword  ungirt  ere  set  of  sun  ! 
There  breathes  not  clansman  of  thy  line. 
But  would  have  given  his  life  for  thine. — 
O  woe  for  Alpine's  honoured  pine  ! 

**  Sad  was  thy  lot  on  mortal  stage  ! — 
The  captive  thrush  may  brook  the  cage, 
The  prisoned  eagle  dies  for  rage. 
Brave  spirit,  do  not  scorn  my  strain  ! 
And,  when  its  notes  awake  again. 
Even  she,  so  long  beloved  in  vain, 
Shall  with  my  harp  her  voice  combine, 
And  mix  her  woe  and  tears  with  mine. 
To  wail  Clan- Alpine's  honoured  pine." — 

XXIII. 

Ellen,  the  while,  with  bursting  heart. 
Remained  in  lordly  bower  apart, 


278       THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  VI. 

Where  played,  with  many-coloured  gleams. 
Through  storied  pane  the  rising  beams. 
In  vain  on  gilded  roof  they  fall, 
And  hghten'd  up  a  tapestried  wall, 
And  for  her  use  ft  menial  train 
A  rich  collation  spread  in  vain. 
The  banquet  proud,  the  chamber  gay. 
Scarce  drew  one  curious  glance  astray ; 
Or,  if  she  looked,  'twas  but  to  say, 
With  better  omen  dawned  the  day 
In  that  lone  isle,  where  waved  on  high 
The  dun  deer's  hide  for  canopy ; 
Where  oft  her  noble  father  shared 
The  simple  meal  her  care  prepared. 
While  Lufra,  crouching  by  her  side. 
Her  station  claimed  with  jealous  pride. 
And  Douglas,  bent  on  woodland  game, 
Spoke  of  the  chase  to  Malcolm  Graeme, 
Wliose  answer,  oft  at  random  made. 
The  wandering  of  his  thoughts  betrayed. — 


©ANTO  VI.         THE  GUAllD-ROOM.  2f9 

Those  who  such  simple  joys  have  kno\vn 
Are  taught  to  prize  them  when  they're  gone. 
But  sudden,  see,  she  Hfts  her  head  ! 
The  window  seeks  with  cautious  tread. 
What  distant  music  has  the  power 
To  win  her  in  this  woeful  hour  ! 
'Twas  from  a  turret  that  o'er-hung 
Her  latticed  bower,  the  strain  was  sung. 

XXIV. 

3lap  of  tge  inipmomti  ^untssmatit 

"  My  hawk  is  tired  of  perch  and  hood, 
My  idle  grey-hound  loathes  his  food. 
My  horse  is  weary  of  his  stall. 
And  I  am  sick  of  captive  thralJ. 
I  wish  I  were  as  I  have  been. 
Hunting  the  hart  in  forests  gi'een, 
With  bended  bow  and  blood-hound  free, 
For  that's  the  life  is  meet  for  me. 


280  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.     CANTO  VI. 

I  hate  to  J*»arn  the  ebb  of  time, 
From  yon  dull  steeple's  drowsy  chime, 
Or  mark  it  as  the  sun-beams  crawl. 
Inch  after  inch,  along  the  wall. 
The  lark  was  wont  my  matins  ring. 
The  sable  rook  my  vespers  sing  ; 
These  towers,  although  a  king's  they  be. 
Have  not  a  hall  of  joy  for  me. 

*'  No  more  at  dawning  morn  I  rise, 
And  sun  myself  in  Ellen's  eyes. 
Drive  the  fleet  deer  the  forest  through. 
And  homeward  wend  with  evening  dew ; 
A  blithesome  welcome  blithely  meet, 
And  lay  my  trophies  at  her  feet, 
While  fled  the  eve  on  wins  of  arlee,— 
That  life  is  lost  to  love  and  me  !" 

XXV. 

The  heart-sick  lay  was  hardly  said, 
The  hst'ner  had  not  turned  her  head, 


I 
i 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM,  281 

It  trickled  still,  the  starting  tear, 

When  light  a  footstep  struck  her  ear,  '^ 

And  Snowdoun's  graceftd  Knight  was  near. 

She  turned  the  hastier,  lest  again 

The  prisoner  should  renew  his  strain. 

"  O  welcome,  brave  Fitz- James  !"  she  said ; 

"  How  may  an  almost  orphan  maid 

Pay  the  deep  debt" "  O  say  not  so  ! 

To  me  no  gratitude  you  owe. 

Not  mine,  alas  !  tlie  boon  to  give, 

And  bid  thy  noble  father  live ; 

I  can  but  be  thy  guide,  sweet  maid. 

With  Scotland's  Kine  thv  suit  to  aid. 

No  tjnrant  he,  though  ire  and  pride 

May  lead  his  better  mood  aside. 

Come,  Ellen,  come  ! — 'lis  more  than  time, 

He  holds  his  court  at  morning  prime." — 

With  beating  heart,  and  bosom  wrung, 

As  to  a  brother's  arm  she  clung. 

Gently  he  dried  the  falling  tear. 

And  gently  whispered  hope  and  cheer  j 


282       THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.        CANTO  VJ. 

Her  faultering  steps  half  led,  half  staid, 
Through  gallery  fair  and  high  arcade, 
Till,  at  his  touch,  its  wings  of  pride 
A  portal  arch  unfolded  wide. 

XXVI. 

Within  'twas  brilliant  all  and  light, 

A  thronging  scene  of  figures  bright ', 

It  glowed  on  Ellen's  dazzled  sight. 

As  when  the  setting  sun  has  given  ll 

Ten  thousand  hues  to  summer  even, 

And,  from  their  tissue,  fancy  frames 

Aerial  knights  and  fairy  dames. 

Still  by  Fitz-James  her  footing  staid  ; 

A  few  faint  steps  she  forward  made, 

Then  slow  her  drooping  head  she  raised, 

And  fearful  round  the  presence  gazed  ; 

For  him  she  sought,  who  owned  this  state, 

The  dreaded  prince  whose  will  was  fate  !— - 

She  gazed  on  many  a  princely  port, 

Might  well  have  ruled  a  royal  court  j 


CANTO  VI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  2S3 

On  many  a  splendid  garb  she  gazed, — 

Then  turned  bewildered  and  amazed, 

For  all  stood  bare  ;  and,  in  the  room, 

Fitz-James  alone  wore  cap  and  plume. 

To  him  each  lady's  look  was  lent, 

On  him  each  courtier's  eye  was  bent ; 

Midst  furs  and  silks  and  jewels  sheen. 

He  stood,  in  simple  Lincohi  green, 

The  centre  of  the  glittering  ring, — 

And  Snowdoun's  Knight  is  Scotland's  King ! 

XXVII. 

As  wreath  of  snow,  on  mountain  bi'east, 

Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest. 

Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay, 

And  at  the  Monarch's  feet  she  lay  ; 

No  word  her  choaking  voice  commands, — 

She  showed  the  ring, — she  clasped  her  hands-. 

O  !  not  a  moment  could  he  brook, 

The  generous  prince,  that  supi)liant  look  ! 

7 


284         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      CANTO  VI. 

Gently  he  raised  her, — and,  the  while. 

Checked  with  a  glance  the  circle's  smile ; 

Graceful,  but  grave,  her  brow  he  kissed, 

And  bade  her  terrors  be  dismissed : — 

**  Yes,  Fair  ;  the  wandering  poor  Fitz-James 

The  fealty  of  Scotland  claims. 

To  him  thy  woes,  thy  wishes,  bring ; 

He  will  redeem  his  signet  ring. 

Ask  nought  for  Douglas  ; — y ester  even. 

His  prince  and  he  have  much  forgiven : 

Wrong  hath  he  had  from  slanderous  tongue, 

I,  from  his  rebel  kinsmen,  wrong. 

We  would  not  to  the  vulgar  crowd 

Yield  what  they  craved  with  clamour  loud ; 

Calmly  we  heard  and  judged  his  cause, 

Our  council  aided,  and  our  laws. 

I  stanched  thy  father's  death-feud  stern, 

With  stout  De  Vaux  and  grey  Glencairn  ; 

And  Bothwell's  Lord  henceforth  we  own 

The  friend  and  bulwark  of  our  Throne.— 

2 


CANTO  VI.         THE  GUARD-ROOM.  285 

But,  lovely  infidel,  how  now  ? 
What  clouds  thy  misbelieving  brow  ? 
Lord  James  of  Douglas,  lend  thine  aid  ; 
Thou  must  confirm  this  doubting  maid." — 

XXVIII. 
Then  forth  the  noble  Douglas  sprung. 
And  on  his  neck  his  daughter  hung. 
The  Monarch  drank,  that  happy  hour, 
The  sweetest,  holiest  draught  of  Power, — 
Wlien  it  can  say,  with  godlike  voice, 
Arise,  sad  Virtue,  and  rejoice  ! 
Yet  would  not  James  the  general  eye 
On  nature's  raptures  long  should  pry  ; 
He  stepp'd  between — *'  Nay,  Douglas,  nay, 
Steal  not  my  proselyte  away  ! 
The  riddle  'tis  my  right  to  read, 
That  brought  this  happy  chance  to  speed. — 
Yes,  Ellen,  when  disguised  I  stray 
In  life's  more  low  but  happier  way, 


286        THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.     CANTO  Vr. 

'Tis  under  name  which  veils  my  power, 

Nor  falsely  veils — for  Stirling's  tower 

Of  yore  the  name  of  Snowdoun  claims, 

And  Normans  call  me  James  Fitz-James. 

Thus  watch  I  o'er  insulted  laws, 

Thus  learn  to  right  the  injured  cause." — 

Then,  in  a  tone  apart  and  low, 

— "  Ah,  httle  trait'ress  !  none  must  know 

What  idle  dream,  what  lighter  thought, 

What  vanity  full  dearly  bought, 

Joined  to  thine  eye's  dark  witchcraft,  drew 

My  spell-bound  steps  to  Benvenue, 

In  dangerous  hour,  and  aU  but  gave 

Thy  Monarch's  life  to  mountain  glaive  !"•— 

Aloud  he  spoke — "  Thou  still  dost  hold 

That  little  talisman  of  gold. 

Pledge  of  my  faith,  Fitz-James's  ring — 

What  seeks  fair  Ellen  of  the  King  r" 


HATiSTOVI.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  287 

XXIX. 

Full  well  the  conscious  maiden  guessed, 

He  probed  the  weakness  of  her  breast ; 

But,  with  that  consciousness,  there  came 

A  lightening  of  her  fears  for  Graeme, 

And  more  she  deemed  the  monarch's  ire 

Kindled  'gainst  him,  who,  for  her  sire. 

Rebellious  broad-sword  boldly  drew  ; 

And,  to  her  generous  feeling  true. 

She  craved  the  grace  of  Roderick  Dhu. — 

**  Forbear  thy  suit : — the  King  of  Kings 

Alone  can  stay  life's  parting  wings. 

I  know  his  heart,  I  know  his  hand. 

Have  shared  his  cheer,  and  proved  his  brand; — 

My  fairest  earldom  would  I  give 

To  bid  Clan-Alpine's  Chieftain  live  ! — 

Hast  thou  no  other  boon  to  crave  ? 

No  other  captive  friend  to  save  ?" — 

Blushing,  she  turned  her  from  the  King, 

And  to  the  Douelas  ijavc  the  rin<i:, 


I 


288         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.       CANTO  VI. 

As  if  she  wished  her  aire  to  speak 
The  suit  that  stained  her  glowing  cheek — 
"  Nay,  then,  my  pledge  has  lost  its  force, 
And  stubborn  justice  holds  her  course. 
Malcolm,  come  forth  !" — And,  at  the  word, 
Down  kneel'd  the  Graeme  to  Scotland's  Lord. 
"  For  thee,  rash  youth,  no  suppliant  sues. 
From  thee  may  Vengeance  claim  her  dues, 
Who,  nurtured  underneath  our  smile. 
Hast  paid  our  care  by  treacherous  wile. 
And  sought,  amid  thy  faithful  clan, 
A  refuge  for  an  outlawed  man, 
Dishonouring  thus  thy  loyal  name. — 

Fetters  and  warder  for  the  Graeme  !'* 

His  chain  of  gold  the  King  unstrung, 
The  links  o'er  Malcolm's  neck  he  flung, 
Then  gently  drew  the  glittering  band, 
And  laid  the  clasp  on  Ellen's  hand. 


CANTO  vr.  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  28^^ 


-Harp  of  the  North,  farewell  !  The  liills  grow  dark, 

On  pui-ple  pea^s  a  deeper  shade  descending ; 
In  twilight  copse  the  glow-worm  lights  her  spark, 

The  deer,  half-seen,  are  to  the  covert  wending- 
Resume  thy  wizard  elm  !  the  fountain  lending, 

And  tl<e  wild  breeze,  thy  wilder  minstrelsy ; 
Thy  numbers  sweet  with  Nature*s  vespers  blending, 

With  distant  echo  from  the  fold  and  lea, 
And  herd-boy's  evening  pipe,  and  hum  of  housing 
bee. 

Yet,  once  again,  farewell,  thou  Minstrel  Harp  ! 

Yet,  once  again,  forgive  my  feeble  sway, 
And  little  reck  I  of  the  censure  shai-p 

May  idly  cavil  at  an  idle  lav. 


290  THE  LADY  or  THE  LAKE.  CANTO  VI- 

Much  have  I  owed  thy  strains  on  life's  long  way. 
Through  secret  woes  the  world  has  never  known, 

When  on  the  weary  night  dawned  wearier  day, 
And  bitterer  was  the  grief  devoured  alone. 

That  I  o'erlive  such  woes,  Enchantress  !  is  thine  own. 

Hark  !  as  my  lingering  footsteps  slbw  retire, 

Some  Spirit  of  the  Air  has  waked  thy  string ! 
'Tis  now  a  Seraph  bold,  with  touch  of  fire, 

'Tis  now  the  brush  of  Fairy's  frolic  wing. 
Receding  now,  the  dying  numbers  ring 

Fainter  and  fainter  down  the  rugged  dell, 
And  now  the  mountain  breezes  scarcely  bring 

A  wandering  witch-note  of  the  distant  spell— 
And  now,  'tis  silent  all ! — Enchantress,  fare  thee  well ! 


END  OF  CANTO  SIXTH. 


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NOTES. 


I 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 


NoteX 
-  The  heights  of  Uam-var, 


And  round  that  cavern  where  'tis  told 

A  giant  made  his  den  of  old. — St.  I.  p.  6. 
Ua-var,  as  the  name  is  pronounced,  or  more  properly  Uaigh' 
mar,  h  a  mountain  to  the  north-east  of  the  village  of  Callender 
in  Menteitli,  deriving  its  name,  which  signifies  the  great  den,  or 
cavern,  from  a  sort  of  retreat  among  the  rocks  on  the  south 
side,  said,  by  tradition,  to  have  been  the  abode  of  a  giant.  In 
latter  times,  it  was  the  refuge  of  robbers  and  banditti,  who 
have  been  only  extirpated  within  these  forty  or  fifty  years. 
Strictly  speaking,  this  strong  hold  is  not  a  cave,  as  the  name 
would  imply,  but  a  sort  of  small  inclosurc,  or  recess,  surround- 
ed with  large  rocks,  and  open  above  head.  It  may  have  been 
originally  designed  as  a  toil  for  deer,  who  might  get  in  from 
the  outside,  but  would  find  it  difficult  to  return.  This  opinion 
prevails  among  the  old  sportsmen  and  dccr-stalkcrs  in  the 
neighbourhood. 


294  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 


Note  II. 
Two  dogs  of  black  St  Hubert's  breed. 
Unmatched  for  courage,  strength,  and  speed. — St.  VII.  p.  10, 

'*  The  hounds  which  we  call  Saint  Hubert's  hounds,  are 
commonly  all  blacke,  yet  neuertheless,  their  race  is  so  mingled 
at  these  days,  that  we  find  them  of  all  colours.  These  are 
the  hounds  which  the  abbots  of  St  Hubert  haue  always  kept 
some  of  their  race  or  kind,  in  honour  or  remembrance  of  the 
saint,  which  was  a  hunter  with  S.  Eustace.  Whereupon  we 
may  conceaue  that  (by  the  grace  of  God)  all  good  huntsmen 
shall  follow  them  into  paradise.  To  returne  vnto  my  former 
purpose,  this  kind  of  dogges  hath  beene  dispersed  thorough 
tbe  countries  of  Henault,  Lorayne,  Flaunders,  and  Burgoyne. 
They  are  mighty  of  body,  neuerthelesse  their  legges  are  low 
and  short,  likewise  they  are  not  swift,  although  they  be  very 
good  of  sent,  hunting  chaces  which  are  farre  straggled,  fearing 
neither  water  nor  cold,  and  doe  more  couet  the  chaces  that 
smell,  as  foxes,  bore,  and  such  like,  than  other,  because  they 
fmd  themselues  neither  of  swiftnes  nor  courage  to  hunt  and 
kill  the  chases  that  are  lighter  and  swifter.  The  bloudhounds 
of  this  colour  prooue  good,  especially  those  that  are  cole- 
blacke,  but  I  make  no  great  account  to  breede  on  them,  or 
to  keepe  the  kind,  and  yet  I  found  a  booke  which  a  hunter  did 
dedicate  to  a  prince  of  Lorayne,  which  seemed  to  loue  hunting 
much,  wherein  was  a  blason  which  the  same  hunter  gaue  to  his 
bloodhound,  called  Souyllard,  which  was  white : 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  295 

My  name  came  first  from  holy  Hubert's  race,     " 
Souyllard  my  sire,  a  hound  of  singular  grace* 

Whereupon  we  may  presume  that  some  of  the  kind  prooue 
white  sometimes,  but  they  are  not  of  the  kind  of  the  Greffiers 
or  Bouxes,  which  we  haue  at  these  dayes." — The  noble  j^rt  of 
Venerie  or  Hunting,  translated  and  collected  for  the  use  of 
all  Noblemen  and  Gentlemen.     Lond.  1611.  4.  p.  15. 

Note  III. 
For  the  death  stroke,  and  death  halloo, 
Mustered  his  breath,  his  zchinyard  drew. — St.  VIII.  p.  11. 
When  the  stag  turned  to  bay,  the  ancient  hunter  had  the 
perilous  task  of  going  in  upon,  and  killing  or  disabling  the  des- 
perate animal.     At  certain  times  of  the  year  this  was  held  par- 
ticularly dangerous,  a  wound  received  from  a  stag's  horns  being 
then  deemed  poisonous,  and  more  dangerous  than  one  from 
the  tusks  of  a  boar,  as  the  old  rhjone  testifies  : 

If  thou  be  hurl  witli  hart,  it  brings  thee  to  thy  bier, 
But  barber's  hand  will  boar's  hurt  heal,  therefore  thou  needst  not 
fear. 

At  all  times,  however,  the  task  was  dangerous,  and  to  be  ad- 
ventured upon  wisely  and  warily,  either  by  getting  behind  the 
stag  while  he  was  gazing  on  the  hounds,  or  by  watching  an 
opportunity  to  gallop  roundly  in  upon  him,  and  kill  him  with 
the  sword.    See  many  directions  to  this  purpose  in  the  Bookft 


1 


I 


296  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIUST. 

of  Hunting,  chap.  41.  Wilson  the  historian  has  recorded  « 
providential  escape  which  befel  him  in  this  hazardous  sport, 
while  a  youth  and  follower  of  the  Earl  of  Essex. 

*'  Sir  Peter  Lee,  of  Lime,  in  Cheshire,  invited  my  lord  one 
summer,  to  hunt  the  stagg.    And  having  a  great  stagg  in  cliace, 
and  many  gentlemen  in  the  pursuit,  the  stagg  took  soyle.    And 
divers,  whereof  I  was  one,  alighted,  and  stood  with  swords 
drawne,  to  have  a  cut  at  him,  at  his  coming  out  of  the  water. 
The  staggs  there  being  wonderfully  fierce  and  dangerous,  made 
us  youths  more  eager  to  be  at  him.    But  he  escaped  us  all. 
And  it  was  my  misfortune  to  be  hindered  of  my  coming  nere 
him,  the  way  being  sliperie,  by  a  fall ;  which  gave  occasion  to 
some,  who  did  not  know  mee,  to  speak  as  if  I  had  falne  for 
feare.     Which  being  told  me,  I  left  the  stagg,  and  followed  the 
gentleman  who  [first]  spake  it.     But  I  found  him  of  that  cold 
temper,  that  it  seems  his  words  made  an  escajje  from  him  ;  as 
by  his  denial  and  repentance  it  appeared.     But  this  made  mee 
more  violent  in  pursuite  of  the  stagg,  to  recover  my  reputation. 
And  I  happcBed  to  be  the  only  horseman  in,  when  the  dogs 
sett  him  up  at  bay ;  and  approaching  nere  him  on  horsebacke,  f 

hee  broke  through  the  dogs,  and  run  at  mee,  and  tore  my 
horse's  side  with  his  homes,  close  by  my  thigh.  Then  I  quit- 
ted my  horse,  and  grew  more  cunning  (for  the  dogs  had  sette 
him  up  againe),  stealing  behind  him  with  my  sword,  and  cut 
his  ham-strings ;  and  then  got  upon  his  back,  and  cut  his 
tliroate ;  wliich,  as  I  was  doing,  the  company  came  in,  and  bla- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  297 

•  med  my  rashness  for  running  such  a  hazard." — Peck's  Desi- 
derata Curiosa,  II.  464. 

Note  IV. 
And  now  to  issue  from  the  glen 
No  pathway  meets  the  wanderer's  ken, 
Unless  he  climb,  with  footing  nice, 
A  for  projecting  precipice. — St.  XIV.  p.  17. 
Until  the  present  road  was  made  through  the  romantic  pass 
which  I  have  presumptuously  attempted  to  describe  in  the  pre- 
ceding stanzas,  there  was  no  mode  of  issuing  out  of  the  defile, 
called  the  Trosachs,  excepting  by  a  sort  of  ladder,  composed  of 
the  branches  and  roots  of  the  trees. 

Note  V. 
To  meet  with  highland  plunderers  here. 
Were  worse  than  loss  of  steed  or  deer. — St.  XVI.  p.  21. 
The  clans  who  inhabited  the  romantic  regions  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Loch  Katrine,  were,  even  until  a  late  period,  much 
addicted  to  predatory  excursions  upon  their  lowland  neigh- 
bours. 

*'  In  former  times,  those  parts  of  this  district,  which  are  si- 
timted  beyond  the  Grampian  range,  were  rendered  almost  in- 
accessible, by  strong  barriers  of  rocks,  and  mountains,  and 
lakes.  It  was  a  border  country,  and  though  on  the  very  verge 
of  the  low  country,  it  was  almost  totally  sequestered  from 
the  world,  and,  as  it  were,  insulated  witli  respect  to  society. 


398  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

"  'Tis  well  known,  that  in  the  highlands,  it  was,  in  former 
times,  accounted  not  only  lawful,  but  honourable,  among  hos- 
tile tribes,  to  commit  depredations  on  one  another ;  and  these 
habits  of  the  age  were  perhaps  strengtiiened  in  this  district,  by 
the  circumstances  which  have  been  mentioned.  It  bordered 
on  a  country,  the  inhabitants  of  which,  while  they  were  richer, 
were  less  warlike  than  they,  and  widely  differenced  by  language 
and  manners." — Graham's  Sketches  of  Scenery  in  Pert/isfiire. 
Edin.  1806,  p.  97. 

The  reader  will  therefore  be  pleased  to  remember,  that  the 
the  scene  of  this  poem  is  laid  in  a  time 

When  toomiiig  faulds,  or  sweeping  of  a  glen, 
Had  still  been  held  the  deed  of  gallant  men. 


Note  VI. 
A  grey-haired  sire^  whose  eyCy  inlent. 
Was  on  the  visioned future  bent. — St.  XXIII.  P.  28. 
If  force  of  evidence  could  authorise  us  to  believe  facts  incon- 
istent  witii  the  general  laws  of  nature,  enough  might  be  pro- 
duced in  favour  of  the  existence  of  the  Second-Sight.   It  is  call- 
ed in  Gaelic  Taishitaraugh,  from  Taish,  an  unreal  or  shadowy 
appearance ;  and  those  possessed  of  the  faculty  arc  called  Tai- 
shatriny  which  may  be  aptly  translated  visionaries.     Martin,  a 
steady  believer  in  the  second-sight,  gives  the  following  account 
of  it: 

*'  The  second-sight  is  a  singular  faculty  of  seeing  an  o  therAvise 


1 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  -299 

invisible  object,  without  any  previous  means  used  by  the  per- 
son that  uses  it  for  that  end  ;  the  vision  makes  such  a  lively 
impression  upon  the  seers,  that  they  neither  see,  nor  think  of 
any  thing  else,  except  the  vision,  as  long  as  it  continues;  and 
then  they  appear  pensive  or  jovial,  according  to  the  object 
which  was  represented  to  them. 

"  At  the  sight  of  a  vision,  the  eye-lids  of  the  person  are 
erected,  and  the  eyes  continue  staring  until  the  object  vanisli. 
This  is  obvious  to  others  who  are  by,  when  the  persons  happen 
to  see  a  vision,  and  occurred  more  than  once  to  my  own  ob- 
servation, and  to  others  that  were  with  me. 

"  There  is  one  in  Skie,  of  whom  his  acquaintance  observed, 
that  when  he  sees  a  vision,  the  inner  part  of  his  eyelids  turns 
so  far  upwards,  that  after  the  object  disappears,  he  must  draw 
them  down  with  his  fingers,  and  sometimes  employs  others  to 
draw  them  down,  which  he  finds  to  be  the  much  easier  way. 

"  This  faculty  of  the  second-sight  does  not  lineally  descend 
in  a  family,  as  some  imagine,  for  I  know  several  parents  who 
are  endowed  with  it,  but  their  children  not,  and  vice  ver- 
sa :  neither  is  it  acquired  by  any  previous  compact.  And,  af- 
ter a  strict  enquiry,  I  could  never  learn  that  this  faculty  was 
communicable  any  way  whatsoever. 

"  The  seer  knows  neither  the  object,  time,  nor  place  of  a 
vision,  before  it  appears  ;  and  the  same  object  is  often  seen  by 
different  persons,  living  at  a  considerable  distance  from  one  ano- 
ther. The  true  way  of  judging  as  to  the  time  and  circum- 
stance of  an  object,  is  by  observation ;  for  several  persons  of 


300  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

judgruent,  without  this  faculty,  are  more  capable  to  judge  of 
the  design  of  a  vision,  than  a  novice  that  is  a  seer.  If  an  ob- 
ject appear  in  the  day  or  night,  it  will  come  to  pass  sooner  or 
later  accordingly. 

"  If  an  object  is  seen  early  in  the  morning  (which  is  not  fre- 
quent,) it  will  be  accomplished  in  a  few  hours  afterwards.  If 
at  noon,  it  will  commonly  be  accomplished  that  very  daj'.  If 
in  the  evening,  perhaps  that  night ;  if  after  candles  be  lighted, 
it  will  be  accomplished  that  night :  the  later  always  in  accom- 
plishment, by  weeks,  months,  and  sometimes  years,  according 
to  the  time  of  night  the  vision  is  seen. 

"  When  a  shroud  is  perceived  about  one,  it  is  a  sure  prognos- 
tick  of  death  -.  the  time  is  judged  according  to  the  height  of  it 
about  the  person ;  for  if  it  is  seen  above  the  middle,  death  is 
not  to  be  expected  for  the  space  of  a  year,  and  perhaps  some 
months  longer ;  and  as  it  is  frequently  seen  to  ascend  higher 
towards  the  head,  death  is  concluded  to  be  at  hand  within  a 
few  days,  if  not  hours,  as  daily  experience  confirms.  Examples 
of  this  kind  were  shewn  me,  when  the  persons  of  whom  the 
observations  were  then  made,  enjoyed  perfect  health. 

"  One  instance  was  lately  foretold  by  a  seer  that  was  a  no- 
vice, concerning  the  death  of  one  of  my  acquaintance ;  this 
was  communicated  to  a  few  only,  and  with  great  confidence :  I 
being  one  of  the  number,  did  not  in  the  least  regard  it,  until 
the  death  of  the  person,  about  the  time  foretold,  did  confirm 
me  of  the  certainty  of  the  prediction.  The  novice  mentioned 
above,  is  now  a  skilfull  seer,  as  appears  from  znany  late  instau- 


XOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST;  301 

ces ;  he  lives  in  the  parish  of  St  Mary's,  the  most  northern  in 
Skie. 

*'  If  a  woman  is  seen  standing  at  a  man's  left  hand,  it  is  a 
presage  that  she  will  be  his  wife,  whether  they  be  married  to 
others,  or  unmarried,  at  the  time  of  the  apparition. 

"  If  two  or  three  women  are  seen  at  once  near  a  man's  left 
hand,  she  that  is  next  hhn  will  undoubtedly  be  his  wife  first, 
and  so  on,  whether  all  three,  or  the  man,  be  single  or  married 
at  the  time  of  the  vision  or  not ;  of  whicii  there  arc  several 
late  instances  among  those  of  my  acquaintance.  It  is  an  ordi- 
nary thing  for  them  to  see  a  man  that  is  to  come  to  the  house 
shortly  after ;  and  if  he  is  not  of  the  seer's  acquaintance,  yet 
he  gives  such  a  lively  description  of  his  stature,  complexion, 
habit,  &c.  that  upon  his  arrival  he  answers  the  character  given 
him  in  all  respects. 

"  If  the  person  so  appearing  be  one  of  the  seer's  acquaint- 
ance, he  will  tell  his  name,  as  well  as  other  particulars ;  and 
he  can  tell  by  his  countenance  whether  he  comes  in  a  good  or 
bad  humour. 

*'  I  have  been  seen  thus  myself  by  seers  of  both  sexes,  at 
some  hundred  miles  distance  ;  some  that  saw  me  in  this  man- 
ner had  never  seen  me  personally,  and  it  happened  according 
to  their  visions,  without  any  previous  design  of  mine  to  go  to 
those  places,  my  coming  there  being  purel}'  accidental, 

"  It  is  ordinary  with  them  to  see  houses,  gardens,  and  trees 
in  places  void  of  all  three ;  and  this  in  progress  of  time  uses 
to  be  accomplished  :  as  at  Mogshot,  in  the  Isle  of  Skic,  where 


S02  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

there  were  but  a  few  sorry  cow-houses,  thatched  with  straw, 
yet  in  a  very  few  years  after,  the  vision,  which  appeared  often, 
was  accompHshed,  by  the  building  of  several  good  houses  on 
the  very  spot  represented  by  the  seers,  and  by  the  planting  of 
orchards  there. 

"  To  see  a  spark  of  fire  fall  upon  one's  arm  or  breast,  is  a 
forerunner  of  a  dead  child  to  be  seen  in  the  arms  of  those  per- 
sons ;  of  which  there  are  several  fresh  instances. 

"  To  see  a  seat  empty  at  the  time  of  one's  sitting  in  it,  is  a 
presage  of  that  person's  death  soon  after. 

"  When  a  novice,  or  one  that  has  lately  obtained  the  second- 
sight,  sees  a  vision  in  the  night-time  wthout  doors,  and  comes 
near  a  fire,  he  presently  falls  into  a  swoon. 

"  Some  find  themselves  as  it  were  in  a  crowd  of  people,  ha- 
ving a  corpse  which  they  carry  along  with  them  ;  and  after  such 
visions  the  seers  come  in  sweating,  and  describe  the  people  that 
appeared :  if  there  be  any  of  their  acquaintance  among  'em, 
they  give  an  account  of  their  names,  as  also  of  the  bearers,  but 
they  know  nothing  concerning  the  corpse. 

"  All  those  who  have  the  second-sight  do  net  always  see  these 
visions  at  once,  though  they  be  together  at  the  time.  But  if 
one  who  has  this  faculty,  designedly  touch  his  fellow-seer  at  the 
instant  of  a  vision's  appearing,  then  the  second  sees  it  as  well 
as  the  first :  and  this  is  sometimes  discerned  by  those  that  are 
near  them  on  such  occasions."— Martin's  Description  of  the 
Westcni  Islands,  1716,  8vo.  p.  300,  ct  seq. 

To  these  particulars  innumerable  examples  might  be  added, 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  303 

all  attested  by  grave  and  credible  authors.  But  in  despite  of 
evidence,  which  neither  Bacon,  Boyle,  nor  Johnson  were  able 
to  resist,  the  Taisch,  with  all  its  visionary  properties,  seems  to 
be  now  universally  abandoned  to  the  use  of  poetry.  The  ex- 
quisitely beautiful  poem  of  Lochiel  will  at  once  occur  to  the 
recollection  of  every  reader. 

Note  Vn. 

There,  for  retreat  in  dangerous  hour. 

Some  chief  hud  framed  a  rustic  bower. — St.  XXVI.  p.  31. 

The  Celtic  chieftains,  whose  lives  were  continually  exposed 
to  peril,  had  usually,  in  the  most  retired  spot  of  their  domains, 
some  place  of  retreat  for  the  hour  of  necessit}',  which,  as  cir- 
cumstances would  admit,  was  a  tower,  a  cavern,  or  a  rustic  hut 
in  a  strong  and  secluded  situation.  One  of  these  last  gave  re- 
fuge to  the  unfortunate  Charles  Edward,  in  his  perilous  wan- 
derings after  the  battle  of  CuUoden. 

"  It  was  situated  in  the  face  of  a  very  rough,  high,  and  rocky 
mountain,  called  Letternilichk,  still  a  part  of  Benalder,  full  of 
great  stones  and  crevices,  and  some  scattered  wood  intersper- 
sed. The  habitation  called  the  Cage,  in  the  face  of  that  moun- 
tain, was  within  a  small  thick  bush  of  wood.  There  were  first 
some  rows  of  trees  laid  down,  in  order  to  level  a  floor  for  a  ha- 
bitation ;  and  as  the  place  was  steep,  this  raised  the  lower  side 
to  an  equal  height  with  the  other ;  and  these  trees,  in  the  way 
of  joists  or  planks,  were  levelled  with  earth  and  gravel.  There 
were  betwixt  the  tree?,  growing  naturally^on  their  own  roots, 


I 


304  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

some  stakes  fixed  in  the  earth,  which,  with  the  trees,  were  in- 
terwoven witli  ropes,  made  of  heath  and  birch  twigs,  up  to  the 
top  of  the  Cage,  it  being  of  a  round  or  rather  oval  shape  ;  and 
the  whole  thatched  and  covered  over  with  fog.  The  whole 
fabric  hung,  as  it  were,  by  a  large  tree,  whicli  reclined  from 
the  one  end,  all  along  the  roof,  to  the  other,  and  which  gave 
it  the  name  of  the  Cage  ;  and  by  chance  there  happened  to  be 
two  stones  at  a  small  distance  from  one  another,  in  the  side 
next  the  precipice,  resembling  the  pillars  of  a  chimney,  where 
the  fire  was  placed.  The  smoke  had  its  vent  out  here,  all  along 
the  fall  of  the  rock,  which  was  so  much  of  the  same  colour, 
that  one  could  discover  no  difference  in  the  clearest  day." — 
Home's  Wslori/  of' the  Rebellion,  Lond.  1802.  4to.  p.  381. 

Note  VIII. 
Ml/  sire's  tall  form  tnight  grace  the  part 
Of  Ferragus  or  Ancabart. — St.  XXVIII.  p.  35. 
These  two  sons  of  Anak  flourished  in  romantic  fable.     The 
first  is  well  known  to  the  admirers  of  Ariosto,  by  the  name  of 
Ferrau.     He  was  an  antagonist  of  Orlando,  and  was  at  length 
slain  by  him  in  single  combat.     There  is  a  romance  in  tlie 
Auchinleck  MS.,  in  which  Ferragus  is  thus  described : 

"  On  a  day  come  tiding 
Unto  Cliarls  the  King, 

Al  of  a  doughti  kiiight 
Was  conien  to  Navers, 
Stout  he  was  and  fers, 

Veruagu  he  hight» 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  S05 

Of  Babiluiin  the  soudan 
Thider  him  sende  gan. 

With  King  Charls  to  fight* 
So  hard  he  was  to-fond  ' 
That  no  dint  of  brond 

No  greued  him,  aplight. 

He  hadde  twenti  men  strcngthe, 
And  fourti  fet  of  lengthe, 
I  Thilke  painim  hede,^ 

\  And  four  fet  iu  the  face, 

Y-meten'  in  the  place. 
And  fiften  in  bicde.''- 
His  nose  was  a  fot  and  more; 
His  brow,  as  brestles  wore;  * 

He  that  i(  seighe  it  sede. 
He  loked  lothcliche, 

And  was  swart ''  as  any  piche,  ' 

Of  him  men  might  adredc." 
Romance  of  Charlemagne,  1.  461-484.     JtucMnleck  MS.  fol.  265. 

Ascapart,  or  Ascabart,  makes  a  very  material  figure  in  tlie 
History  of  Bevis  of  Hampton,  by  whom  he  was  conquered. 
His  effigies  may  be  seen  guarding  one  side  of  a  gate  at  South- 
ampton, while  the  other  is  occupied  by  Sir  Bevis  himself.  The 
dimensions  of  Ascapart  were  little  inferior  to  those  of  Ferragus, 
if  the  following  description  be  correct : 


"  They  nietten  with  a  geaunt. 
With  a  lothelichc  semblaunt. 


*  Found,  proved.     ~  Had.     ^  Measured.     *  Breadth,    ^   Wete. 

(>  Black. 


! 


306  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

lie  was  wonderliche  strong. 

Home  '  thretti  fote  long. 

J  lis  herd  was  hot  gret  and  rowe  ; " 

A  space  of  a  fot  betweene  is  ^  browej 

His  clob  was,  to  yeue  *  a  strok, 

A  lite  bodi  of  an  ok.^ 

Beues  hadde  of  him  wonder  gret, 
And  askede  him  what  a  het,* 
And  yaf  ^  men  of  his  contrd 
Were  ase  meche^  ase  was  he. 
*  Me  name,'  a  sede,^  '  is  Ascopard 
Garci  me  sent  hiderward, 
For  to  bring  this  quene  ayen. 
And  the  Beues  her  of-slen.'" 
Icham  Garci  is  *'  champioun, 
And  was  i-driue  out  of  me  '^  toun, 
Al  for  that  ich  was  so  lite."^ 
Eueri  man  me  wolde  smite, 
Ich  was  so  lite  and  so  raerugh,'* 
ilueri  man  me  clepede  dwerugh.'^ 
And  now  icham  in  this  londe, 
1  wax  mor  "*  ich  understonde, 
And  strengere  than  other  tene ;  '^ 
And  that  schel  on  us  be  sene. 
Sir  Bevis  of  Hampton,  I.  2S12.    Auchinkck  MS.  fol.  18!). 

Note  IX. 
Though  all  unasked  his  birth  or  name. — St.  XXIX.  p.  35. 
The  Highlanders,  who  carried  hospitality  to  a  punctilious  ex- 
cess, are  said  to  have  considered  it  as  churlish,  to  ask  a  stran- 


*  Fully.  ^  Rough.  ^  His.  *  Give.  ^  The  stem  of  a  little  oak 
tree.  ^  He  hight,  was  called.  ^Jf.'^  Great.  ^  He  said.  '°  Slay. 
"  His.  '"^  My.  '3  i,ittle.  »♦  Lean.  "  Dwarf.  '^  Greater^ 
taller.     '7  Jm. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST.  307 

ger  his  name  or  lineage,  before  he  had  taken  refreshment. 
Feuds  were  so  frequent  among  them,  that  a  contrary  rule  would, 
in  many  cases,  have  produced  tlie  discovery  of  some  circum- 
stance, which  might  have  excluded  the  guest  from  the  benefit 
of  the  assistance  he  stood  in  need  of. 

Note  X. 
—  And  still  a  harp  unseen, 


Filled  up  the  symphony  between. — St.  XXX.  p.  Z6^ 
"  They  (meaning  the  highlanders)  delight  much  in  musicke, 
but  chiefly  in  harps  and  clairschoes  of  their  own  fashion.  The 
Strings  of  tiie  clairschoes  are  made  of  brasse-wire,  and  the 
strings  of  the  harps  of  sinews ;  which  strings  they  strike  either 
with  their  nayles,  growing  long,  or  else  witli  an  iastrument 
appointed  for  that  use.  They  take  great  pleasure  to  decke 
their  harps  and  clairschoes  with  silver  and  precious  stones ;  the 
poore  ones,  that  cannot  attayne  hereunto,  deckc  them  with 
christall.  They  sing  verses  prettily  compound,  contayning 
(for  the  most  part)  prayses  of  valiant  men.  There  is  not  almost 
any  other  argument,  wliereof  their  rhymes  intreat.  They  speak 
the  ancient  French  language,  altered  a  little."  * — "  The  harp 
and  clairschoes  are  now  only  heard  of  in  the  highlands  in  an- 
cient song.  At  what  period  these  instruments  ceased  to  be 
used,  is  not  on  record ;  itnd  tradition  is  silent  on  this  head. 


*  Vide"  {  erteyne  Matters  concerning  the  Realmc  of  Scotland, 
&c.as  tUey  were  Anno  Domini  1597.     Lond.  MM^i.'"  Al». 


SOS  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIRST. 

But,  as  Irisli  harpers  occasionally  visited  the  highlands  and 
western  isles  till  lately,  the  harp  might  have  been  extant  so  late 
as  the  middle  of  the  present  century.  Thus  far  we  know,  that 
from  remote  times  down  to  the  present,  harpers  were  received 
as  welcome  guests,  particularly  in  the  highlands  of  Scotland ; 
and  so  late  as  the  latter  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  as  appears 
by  the  above  quotation,  the  harp  was  in  common  use  among 
the  natives  of  the  western  isles.  How  it  happened  that  the 
noisy  and  inharmonious  bagpipe  banished  the  soft  and  expres- 
sive harp,  we  cannot  say ;  but  certain  it  is,  that  the  bagpipe  is 
now  the  only  instrument  that  obtains  universally  in  the  high- 
land districts." — Campbell's. /ournej/  through  North  Britain. 
Lond.  1808.  4to.  I.  175. 

Mr  Gunn,  of  Edinburgh,  has  lately  published  a  curious  essay 
upon  the  harp  and  harp  music  of  the  Highlands  of  Scotland. 
That  the  instrument  was  once  in  common  use  there,  is  most 
certain.  Cleland  numbers  an  acquaintance  with  it  among  the 
few  accomplishments  which  his  satire  allows  to  the  Highland- 
ers;— 

In  nothing  they're  accounted  sharp, 
Except  in  bag-pipe  or  in  harp. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  II. 


Note  I. 
Morn's  genial  influence  roused  a  minstrel  grey. — St.  I.  p.  47. 

That  Highland  chieftains,  to  a  late  period,  retained  in  their 
service  the  bard,  as  a  family  officer,  admits  of  very  easy  proof. 
The  author  of  the  Letters  from  Scotland,  an  officer  of  engi- 
neers, quartered  at  Inverness  about  1720,  who  certainly  can- 
not be  deemed  a  favourable  witness,  gives  the  following  ac- 
count of  the  office,  and  of  a  bard,  whom  he  heard  exercise  his 
talent  of  recitation. 

"  The  bard  is  skilled  in  the  genealogy  of  all  the  highland 
families,  sometimes  preceptor  to  the  young  laird,  celebrates  in 
Irish  verse  the  original  of  the  tribe,  the  famous  warlike  actions 
of  the  successive  heads,  and  sings  his  own  lyrics  as  an  opiate 
to  the  chief,  when  indisposed  for  sleep ;  but  poets  are  not 
equally  esteemed  and  honoured  in  all  countries.  I  happened 
to  be  a  witness  of  the  dishonour  done  to  the  muse,  at  the 
house  of  one  of  the  chiefs,  where  two  of  these  bards  were  set 
at  a  good  distance,  at  the  lower  end  of  a  long  table,  with  a  par- 


SIO  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

eel  of  hii!;l)landers  of  no  extraordinary  appearance,  over  a  cup 
of  ale.    Poor  inspiration ! 

"  They  were  not  asked  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  at  our  table, 
though  the  whole  company  consisted  only  of  the  (^reat  man, 
one  of  his  near  relations,  and  myself. 

"  After  some  little  time,  the  chief  ordered  one  of  them  to 
shig  me  a  highland  song.  The  bard  readily  obeyed,  and  with 
a  hoarse  voice,  and  in  a  tone  of  few  various  notes,  began,  as  I 
was  told,  one  of  his  own  lyrics ;  and  when  he  had  proceeded 
to  the  fourth  or  fifth  stanza,  I  perceived,  hy  the  names  of  seve- 
ral persons,  glens,  and  mountains,  which  I  had  known  or  heard 
of  before,  that  it  was  an  account  of  some  clan  battle.  But  in 
his  going  on,  the  chief  (who  piques  himself  upon  his  school- 
learning)  at  some  particular  passage,  bid  him  cease,  and  cryed 
out, '  There's  nothing  like  that  in  Virgil  or  Homer.'  I  bowed, 
and  told  him  I  believed  so.  This  you  may  believe  was  very 
edifying  and  delightful." — Letters  frotn  Scotland.,  II.  167. 

Note  II. 
The  Grame.— St.  VI.  p.  53. 


The  ancient  and  powerful  family  of  Graham  (which,  for  me- 
trical reasons,  is  here  spelled  after  the  Scottish  pronunciation,) 
held  extensive  possessions  in  the  counties  of  Dunbarton  and 
Stirling.  Few  families  can  boast  of  more  historical  renown, 
having  claim  to  three  of  the  most  remarkable  characters  in  the 
Scottish  annals.  Sir  John  the  Graeme,  the  faithful  and  un- 
daunted partaker  of  the  labours  and  patriotic  warfare  of  Wal- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  311 

lace,  fell  in  the  unfortunate  field  of  Falkirk,  in  1298.  The  ce- 
lebrated Marquis  of  Montrose,  in  whom  De  Rctz  saw  realized 
his  abstract  idea  of  the  heroes  of  antiquity,  was  the  second  of 
these  worthies.  And,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of  his  tem- 
per, and  the  rigour  with  which  he  executed  the  oppressive  man- 
dates of  the  prince  whom  he  served,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  name 
as  the  third,  John  Grahamc,  of  Claverhouse,  Viscount  of  Dun- 
dee, whose  heroic  death,  in  the  arms  of  victory,  may  be  allowed 
to  cancel  the  memory  of  his  cruelty  to  the  non-coriformists, 
during  the  reigns  of  Charles  II-  and  James  II. 

Note  III. 

T/iis  harp  which  erst  Saint  Modem  swayed. — St,  VI.  p.  54. 

I  am  not  prepared  to  shew  that  Saint  Modan  was  a  performer 
on  the  harp.  It  was,  however,  no  unsaintly  accomplishnient ; 
for  Saint  Dunstan  certainly  did  play  upon  that  instrument, 
which,  retaining,  as  was  natural,  a  portion  of  the  sanctity  at- 
tached to  its  master's  character,  announced  future  events  by  its 
spontaneous  sound.  "  But  labouring  once  in  these  mechanic 
arts  for  a  devoute  matrone  that  had  sett  him  on  worke,  his  violl, 
that  hung  by  him  on  the  wall,  of  itsowne  accord,  without  anie 
man's  helpe,  distinctly  sounded  this  anthime :  Guudent  in  calis 
uniiiKB  sanctorum  qui  Chrisli  vestigia  sunt  secuti  :  tt  quia  pro 
eius  arftore  sanguinem  suum  fuderunt,  tdeo  cum  Christo  guu- 
dent  teternum.  Whereat  all  the  companie  being  much  asto- 
nished, turned  their  eyes  from  behoulding  liini  working,  to 
looke  on  that  strange  accident." "  Not  long  after,  nianie 


312  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

of  the  court,  that  liitherurito  had  bom  a  kind  of  fayned  friend- 
ship towards  him,  began  now  greatly  to  envie  at  his  progresse 
and  rising  in  goodness,  using  manie  crooked,  backbiting  nieanes 
to  deffame  his  vertues  with  the  black  markes  of  hypocrisie. 
And  the  better  to  authorise  their  caluinnie,  they  broHght  in  this 
that  happened  in  the  vioU,  affirming  it  to  have  been  done  by  art 
magick.     What  more  ?  this  wicked  rumour  encreased  daylj', 
till  the  king  and  others  of  the  nobility  taking  hould  thereof, 
Dunstan  grew  odious  in  their  sight.     Therefore  he  resolued  to 
leaue  the  court,  and  go  to  Elphegus,  surnamed  the  Bald,  then 
bishop  of  Winchester,  who  was  his  cozen.    Which  his  enemies 
understanding,  they  lajd  wayte  for  him  in  the  way,  and  hauing 
throwne  him  oiF  his  horse,  beate  him,  and  draged  hira  in  the 
durt  in  the  most  miserable  manner,  meaning  to  haue  slaine  him, 
had  not  a  companie  of  mastiue  dogges,  that  came  unlookt  uppon 
them,  defended  and  redeemed  him  from  their  crueltie.    When 
with  sorrow  he  was  ashamed  to  see  dogges  more  humane  than 
they.   And  giuing  thankes  to  Almightie  God,  he  sensibly  againe 
perceaued  that  the  tunes  of  his  vioU  had  giuen  hira  a  warning 
of  future  accidents." — Flower  of  the  Lives  of  the  most  renowned 
Saincts  (f  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  by  ^AeR.  FATHER 
HiEROME  Porter.    Dowaj',  1632.  4to.  tome  I.  p.  438. 

The  same  supernatural  circumstance  is  alluded  to  by  the 
anonymous  author  of"  Grim,  the  Collier  of  Croydon." 


I 


«' iDunstan's  harp  sounds  on  the  wall.ji 

Forrest.  Hark,  hark,  my  lord,  the  holy  abbot's  harp 
Sounds  by  itself  so  hanging  on  the  wall ! 


I 
f 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  313 

Dunstan.     Unliallowed  man,  that  scom'st  the  sacred  read, 
Hark,  how  the  testimony  of  my  truth 
Sounds  heavenly  music  '.vitli  an  angel's  hand, 
To  testify  Duustan's  integrity. 
And  prove  thy  active  boast  of  uo  effect." 


Note  IV. 
Ere  Douglasses,  to  ruin  driveuy 

Were  exiledjrom  their  native  heaven. — St.  VIII.  p.  55. 
The  downfal  of  the  Douglasses  of  the  house  of  Angus,  du- 
rhig  the  reigu  of  James  V.,  is  the  event  alluded  to  in  the  text. 
The  Earl  of  Angus,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  married  the 
queen-dowager,  and  availed  himself  of  the  right  which  he  thus 
acquired,  as  well  as  of  his  extensive  power,  to  retain  the  king 
in  a  sort  of  tutelage,  which  approached  very  near  to  captivity. 
Several  open  attempts  were  made  to  rescue  James  from  this 
thraldom,  with  which  he  was  well  known  to  be  deeply  disgust- 
ed ;  but  the  valour  of  the  Douglasses,  and  their  allies,  gave 
them  the  victory  in  every  conflict.  At  length,  the  king,  wiiile 
residing  at  Falkland,  contrived  to  escape  by  night  out  of  his 
own  court  and  palace,  and  rode  full  speed  to  Stirling  Castle, 
where  the  governor,  who  was  of  the  opposite  faction,  joyfully 
received  him.  Being  thus  at  liberty,  James  speedily  summoned 
around  him  such  peers  as  he  knew  to  be  most  inimical  to  the 
domination  of  Angus,  and  laid  his  complaint  before  them,  says 
Pitscottie,  "  with  great  lamentations :  showing  to  them  how 
he  was  holden  in  subjection,  thir  years  bygone,  by  the  Earl  of 
Angus,  and  his  kin  and  friends,  who  oppressed  the  whole  cmm- 


514!  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

try,  and  spoiled  it,  under  the  pretence  of  justice  and  his  autho- 
rity ;  and  had  slain  many  of  his  lieges,  kinsmen,  and  friends, 
because  they  would  have  had  it  mended  at  their  hands,  and  put 
him  at  liberty,  as  he  ought  to  have  been,  at  the  council  of  his 
whole  lords,  and  not  have  been  subjected  and  corrected  with 
no  particular  men,  by  the  rest  of  his  nobles  :  Therefore,  said 
he,  I  desire,  my  lords,  that  I  may  be  satisfied  of  the  said  earl, 
his  kin,  and  friends  ;  for  1  avow,  that  Scotland  shall  not  hold 
us  both,  while  (/.  e.  till)  1  be  revenged  on  him  and  his. 

"  The  lords  hearing  the  king's  complaint  and  lamentation, 
and  also  the  great  rage,  fury,  and  malice,  that  he  bure  toward 
the  Earl  of  Angus,  his  kin  and  friends,  they  concluded  all,  and 
thought  it  best,  that  he  should  be  suinmoned  to  underly  the 
law  ;  if  he  fand  not  caution,  nor  yet  compear  himself,  that  be 
should  be  put  to  the  horn,  with  all  his  kin  and  friends,  so  many 
as  were  containetl  in  the  letters.  And  further,  the  lords  or- 
dained, by  advice  of  his  majesty,  that  bis  brother  and  friends 
should  be  summoned  to  find  caution  to  underly  the  law  within 
a  certain  day,  or  else  be  put  to  the  horn.  But  the  earl  appear- 
ed not,  nor  none  for  him ;  and  so  he  was  put  to  the  horn,  with 
all  his  kin  and  iriends ;  so  :.  any  as  were  contained  in  the  sum- 
mons, that  compejared  not,  were  banished,  and  holden  traitors 
to  the  king." — LinUsaj/  of  Pitscoltie's  Hisiori/  oj  HcotlancL 
Edinburgh,  161,  p.  142. 


i  ■ 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  "515 


Note  V. 
In  Holy-Rood  a  knight  he  slew. — St.  XII.  p.  59. 

This  was  by  no  means  an  uncommon  occurrence  in  tlie  court 
of  Scotland ;  nay,  the  presence  of  the  sovereign  himself  scarcely 
restrained  the  ferocious  and  inveterate  feuds  which  were  the 
perpetual  source  of  bloodshed  among  the  Scottish  nobility. 
The  following  instance  of  the  murder  of  Sir  George  Stuart  of 
Ochiltree,  called  The.  Bloody,  by  the  celebrated  Francis  Earl 
of  Bothwell,  may  be  produced  among  many ;  but,  as  the  offence 
given  in  the  royal  court  will  hardly  bear  a  vernacular  transla- 
tion, I  shall  leave  the  story  in  Johnstone's  Latin,  referring  for 
further  particulars  to  the  naked  simplicity  of  Birrel's  Diary, 
30th  July,  1583. 

*'  Mors  improbi  hominis  non  tarn  ipsa  immerita,  quam  pessimo 
exemplo  in  publicum  fade  perpetrata.  Gulielmus  Stunrtus  Al- 
kiltrius,  Aranifrater,  natura  ac  moribus,  cujus  stepius  memini, 
vulgo  propter  sitim  sanguinis  sanguinarius  dictus,  a  Bothvelio, 
in  Sancta  Crucis  Reeia,  exardescente  ird,  mendacii  probro  la- 
cessitus,  obsc/emim  osculum  Uberius  retorquehat  ;  Bothvelius 
hanc  contumeliam  tacitus  tulit,  sed  ingentem  irarum  molem 
animo  concepit.  Utrinquc  postridie  Ediitburgi  conventutn,  to- 
tidem  numero  comitibus  armatis,  prtzsidii  causa,  et  acriier  pug- 
natum  est ;  cateris  umicis  et  clientibus  metu  torpentibus,  aut 
ti  absterritis,  ipse  Stuartus  fortissimc  dimicatf  tandem  excusso 
gladio  a  Bothvelio,  Scythicd  feritate  transfoditur,  sine  cujus- 
quam  misericordtd  ;  habuit  ituque  quern  debuit  exitum.    Dig' 


316  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

nui  erat  Stuaj'tus  qui  pateretur  ;  Bothvclius  quifaceret.  Vul- 
gus  sanguinem  sanguine  pi^tedicabat ,  et  fiorum  cruore  innocu- 
orum  manibus  egregie  pare7itatum." — R.  JOHNSTONI  Historia 
Tterum  Brit imnic arum,  abanno  1572,  ad  annum  1628.  Am- 
stelodami,  1655,  Ibl.  p.  135. 

Note  VI, 
The  Douglas  like  a  stricken  deer, 
Disozcned  by  every  noble  peer. — St.  XII.  p.  00, 
The  exiled  state  of  this  powerful  race  is  not  exaggerated  in 
this  and  subseciucnt  passages.  The  hatred  of  James  against 
the  race  of  Douglas  was  so  inveterate,  that  numerous  as  tlieir 
allies  were,  and  disregarded  as  the  regal  authority  had  usually 
been  in  similar  cases,  their  nearest  friends,  even  in  the  most 
remote  parts  of  Scotland,  durst  not  entertain  them,  unless  un- 
der the  strictest  and  closest  disguise.  James  Douglas,  son  of 
the  banished  Earl  of  Angus,  afterwards  well  known  by  the  title 
of  Earl  of  Morton,  lurked,  during  the  exile  of  his  family,  in  the 
north  of  Scotland,  under  the  assumed  name  of  James  Innes, 
otherwise  James  the  Grieve,  (i.  e.  Reve  or  BailiUI)  "  And  as 
he  bore  the  name,"  says  Godscroft,  "  so  did  he  also  execute 
the  office  of  a  grieve  or  overseer  of  the  lands  and  rents,  the 
com  and  eattle  of  him,  with  whom  he  lived."  From  the  habits 
of  frugahty  and  observation,  which  he  acquired  in  this  humble 
situation,  the  historian  traces  that  intimate  acquaintance  with 
popular  character,  which  enabled  him  to  rise  so  high  in  the 
state,  and  that  honourable  economy  by  which  he  repaired  and 


! 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  S17 

established  the  shattered  estates  of  Angus  and  Morton. — His- 
tory of  the  Home  of  Douglas.  Edinburgli,  1743,  Vol.  II.  p. 
1 60. 

Note  VII. 
JMaronnan's  cell. — St.  XIII.  p.  61. 
The  parish  of  Kilmaronock,  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  Loch- 
Lomond,  derives  its  name  from  a  cell  or  chapel,  dedicated  to 
Saint  Maronoch,  or  Maraoch,  or  Maronan,  about  whose  sanc- 
tity very  little  is  now  remembered.  There  is  a  fountain  de- 
voted to  him  in  the  same  parish,  but  its  virtues,  like  the  merits 
of  its  patron,  have  fallen  into  oblivion. 

Note  VIII. 
Brackliiin's  thundering  wave. — St.  XIV.  p.  62. 
This  is  a  beautiful  cascade  made  at  a  place  called  the  Bridge 
of  Bracklinn,  by  a  mountain  stream  called  the  Keltie,  about  a 
mile  from  the  village  of  Callander,  in  Menteith.  Above  a  chasm 
where  the  brook  precipitates  itself  from  a  height  of  at  least  fifty 
feet,  there  is  thrown,  for  the  convenience  of  the  neighbourhood, 
a  rustic  foot-bridge,  of  about  three  feet  in  breadth,  and  without 
ledges,  which  is  scarcely  to  be  crossed  by  a  stranger  without  awe 
and  apprehension. 

Note  IX. 
For  Tine-man  forged  by  fairt/  lore. —  St.  XV.  p.  G4. 
Archibald,  the  third  Earl  of  Douglas,  was  so  unfortunate  in 


518  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

all  his  enterprizes,  that  he  acquired  the  epithet  of  Tineman, 
because  he  lined,  or  lost,  liis  followers  in  every  battle  which  he 
fought.  He  was  vanquished,  as  every  reader  must  remember, 
in  the  bloody  battle  of  Homildon-hill,  near  Wooler,  where  he 
himself  lost  an  eye,  and  was  made  prisoner  by  Hotspur.  He 
was  no  less  unfortunate  when  allied  with  Percy,  being  wound- 
ed and  taken  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury.  He  was  so  unsuc- 
cessful in  an  attempt  to  besiege  Roxburgh  Castle,  that  it  was 
called  the  Foul  Raid,  or  disgraceful  expedition.  His  ill  for- 
tune left  him  indeed  at  the  battle  of  Beauge,  in  France;  but  it 
•was  only  to  return  with  double  emphasis  at  the  subsequent  ac- 
tion of  Vernoil,  the  last  and  most  unlucky  of  his  encounters,  in 
which  he  fell,  with  the  flower  of  the  Scottish  chivalry,  then 
ser\'ing  as  auxiliaries  in  France,  and  about  two  thousand  com- 
mon soldiers,  A.  D.  1424. 

Note  X. 
Did,  self-unscabbarded,  fore-show 
The  footstep  of' a  secret  foe.— St.  XV.  p.  64. 
The  ancient  warriors,  whose  hope  and  confidence  rested 
chiefly  in  their  blades,  were  accustomed  to  detluce  omens  from 
them,  especially  from  such  as  were  supposed  to  have  been  fa- 
bricated by  enchanted  skill,  of  which  we  have  various  instan- 
ces in  the  romances  and  legends  of  the  time.     The  wonderful 
sword  Skoffnung,  wielded  by  the  celebrated  Hrolf  Kraka, 
was  of  this  description.     It  was  deposited  in  the  tomb  of  the 
monarch  at  his  death,  and  taken  fi:om  thence  by  Skeggo,  a  ce- 


i 


1 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  Sl9 

Icbratetl  pirate,  who  bestowed  it  upon  his  son-in-law,  Kor- 
mak,  with  the  following  curious  directions :  "  The  manner  of 
using  it  will  appear  strange  to  you.     A  small  bag  is  attached  to 
it,  which  take  heed  not  to  violate.     Let  not  the  lays  of  the 
sun  touch  the  upper  part  of  the  handle,  nor  unsheath  it,  unless 
thou  art  ready  for  battle.     But  when  thou  coroest  to  the  place 
of  fight,  go  aside  from  the  rest,  grasp  and  extend  the  SA'Ord, 
and  breathe  upon  it.    Then  a  small  worm  will  creep  out  of  the 
handle :  loM'er  the  handle,  that  he  may  more  easily  return  in- 
to it.'      Kormak.  after  having  received  the  sword,  returned 
home  to  hi.-,  mother.    He  shewed  the  sword,  and  attempted  to 
draw  it,   as  unnecessarily  as  ineffectually,    for  he  could  not 
pluck  it  out  of  the  sheath.      His  mother,  Delia,  exclaimed, 
*  Do  p.'>t  uos]iise  the  counsel  given  to  thee,  my  son.'      Kor- 
raak    however,  repeating  his  efforts,  pressed  down  the  handle 
with  his  feet,  and  tore  off'  the  bag,  when  Skoffhung  emitted  a 
hollow  groan :    but  still  he  could  not  unsheathe  the  sword. 
Kormak  then  went  out  with  Bessus,  whom  he  had  challenged 
to  fight  with  him,  and  drew  apart  at  the  place  of  combat.     He 
sat  down  upon  the  ground,  and  ungirding  the  sword,  which  he 
bore  above  Ins  vestments,  did  not  remember  to  shield  the  hilt 
from  the  rays  of  the  sun.     In  vain  he  endeavoured  to  draw  it, 
till  he  placed  his  foot  against  the  hilt ;  then  the  worm  issued 
from  it.     But  Kormak  did  not  rightly  handle  the  weapon,  in 
consetiuence  whereof,  good  fortune  deserted  it.    As  he  un- 
sheathed Skoffhung,  it  emitted  a  hollow  murnmr"-^}i(irt/iolini 


S20  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

de  Causis  Contempta  a  Danis  adhuc  GentlUbus  Mortis  Libri 
Tres.  Hafnia,  1689.  4to.  p.  574. 

To  the  history  of  this  sentient  ami  prescient  weapon,  I  beg 
leave  to  add,  from  memory,  the  following  legend,  for  which  I 
cannot  produce  any  better  aiithoritj'.  A  yomig  nobleman,  of 
high  hopes  and  fortune,  chanced  to  lose  his  way  in  the  town 
which  he  inhabited,  the  capital,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  a  German 
province.  He  had  accidentally  involved  himself  among  the 
narrow  and  winding  streets  of  a  suburb,  inhabited  by  the  low- 
est order  of  the  people,  and  an  approaching  thunder-shower 
determined  him  to  ask  a  short  refuge  in  the  most  decent  habi- 
tation that  was  near  him.  He  knocked  at  the  door,  which  was 
opened  by  a  tall  man,  of  a  grisly  and  ferocious  aspect,  and  sor- 
did dress.  The  stranger  was  readily  ushered  to  a  chamber, 
where  swords,  scourges,  and  machines,  which  seemed  to  be  im- 
plements of  torture,  were  suspended  on  the  wall.  One  of 
these  swords  dropped  fi'om  its  scabbard,  as  the  nobleman,  af- 
ter a  moment's  hesitation,  crossed  the  tlireshold.  His  host 
immediately  stared  at  him,  with  such  a  marked  expression, 
that  the  young  man  could  not  help  demanding  his  name  and 
business,  and  the  meaning  of  his  looking  at  him  so  fixedly. 
*'  I  am,"  answered  the  man,  "  the  public  executioner  of  this 
city;  and  the  incident  you  have  observed  is  a  sure  augury, 
that  I  shall,  in  discharge  of  my  duty,  one  day  cut  off  your 
head  with  the  weapon  which  has  just  now  spontaneously  un- 
sheathed itself"  The  nobleman  lost  no  time  in  leaving  his 
place  of  refuge;  but,  engaging  in  some  of  the  plots  of  the 

7 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  S2l 

period,  was  shortly  after  decapitated  by  tliat  very  man  and  in- 
strument. 

Lord  Lovat  is  said,  by  the  author  of  the  Letters  from  Scot- 
land, to  have  affirmed,  that  a  number  of  swords  that  hung  up 
in  the  hall  of  the  mansion-house,  leaped  of  themselves  out  of 
the  scabbard  at  the  instant  he  was  born.  This  story  passed 
current  among  his  clan,  but,  like  that  of  the  story  I  have  just 
quoted,  proved  an  unfortunate  omen. — Letters  from  Scotland, 
Vol.  II.  p.  214. 

Note  XI. 

— The  pibroch  proud. — St.  XVII.  p.  67. 

The  connoisseurs  in  pipe-music  affect  to  discover,  in  a  well- 
composed  pibroch,  the  imitative  sounds  of  march,  conflict, 
flight,  pursuit,  and  all  the  "  current  of  a  heady  fight."  To  this 
opinion,  Dr  Beattie  has  given  his  suffrage  in  the  following  ele- 
gant passage : — "  A  pibroch  is  a  species  of  tune  peculiar,  I 
think,  to  the  Highlands  and  western  isles  of  Scotland.  It  is 
performed  on  a  bagpipe,  and  differs  totally  from  all  other  mu- 
sic. Its  rythm  is  so  irregular,  and  its  notes,  especially  in  the 
quick  movement,  so  mixed  and  huddled  together,  that  a  stran- 
ger finds  it  impossible  to  reconcile  his  ear  to  it,  so  as  to  per- 
ceive its  modulation.  Some  of  these  pibrochs,  being  intended 
to  represent  a  battle,  begin  with  a  grave  motion,  resembling  a 
march  ;  then  gradually  quicken  into  the  onset ;  run  off  with 
noisy  confusion,  and  turbulent  rapidity,  to  imitate  the  conflict 


I 


322  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

and  pursuit ;  then  swell  into  a  few  flourishes  of  triumphant 
joy;  and  perhaps  close  with  the  wild  and  slow  wailin^s  of  a 
funeral  procession." — Efisar/  on  Laughter  and  Ludicrous  Com' 
position,  Chap.  III.     Note. 

Note  XII. 
Roderigh  vlch  Alpine  Dim,  ho  !  ieroe  ! — St.  XIX.  p.  69. 
Besides  his  ordinary  name  and  surname,  which  were  chiefly 
used  in  his  intercourse  with  the  Lowlands,  every  Highland 
chief  had  an  epithet  expressive  of  his  patriarchal  dignity  as 
head  of  the  clan,  and  which  was  common  to  all  his  predecessors 
and  successors,  as  Pliaroah  to  the  kings  of  Egypt,  or  Arsaces 
to  those  of  Parthia.  This  name  was  usually  a  patronymic,  ex- 
pressive of  his  descent  from  the  founder  of  the  family.  Thus 
the  Duke  of  Argyleis  called  iVIacCallanmore,  or  the  Son  of 
Colin  the  Great.  Sometimes,  however,  it  is  derived  from  ar- 
morial distinctions,  or  the  memory  of  some  great  feat :  thus 
Lord  Seaforth,  as  chief  of  the  Mackenzies,  or  Clan-Kenuet, 
bears  the  epithet  of  Caber-fae,  or  Buck's  Head,  as  representa- 
tive of  Colin  Fitzgerald,  founder  of  the  family,  who  saved  the 
Scottish  king,  when  endangered  by  a  stag.  But  besides  this 
title,  which  belonged  to  his  ofRce  and  dignity,  the  chieftain  had 
usually  another  peculiar  to  himself,  which  distinguished  him 
from  the  chieftains  of  the  same  race.  This  was  sometimes  de- 
rived from  complexion,  as  dhu  or  roy  ;  sometimes  from  size, 
as  beg  or  more ;  at  other  times,  from  some  particular  exploit. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  S23 

or  from  some  peculiarity  of  habit  or  appearance.     The  line  of 
the  text  therefore  signifies. 

Black  Roderick,  the  descendant  of  Alpine. 

The  song  itself  is  intended  as  an  imitation  of  the  jorramsy 
or  boat-songs  of  the  Highlanders,  which  were  usually  composed 
in  honour  of  a  favourite  chief  They  are  so  adapted  as  to  keep 
time  with  the  sweep  of  the  oars,  and  it  is  easy  to  distinguish 
between  those  intended  to  be  sung  to  the  oars  of  a  galley,  where 
the  stroke  is  lengthened  and  doubled  as  it  were,  and  those 
wln'ch  were  timed  to  the  rowers  of  an  ortlinarj'  boat. 

Note  Xlir. 
The  best  of  Loch-Lomond  lie  dead  on  her  side. — St.  XX.  p.  70. 
The  Lennox,  as  the  district  is  called  which  encircles  the 
lower  extremity  of  Loch-Lomond,  was  peculiarly  exposed  to 
the  incursions  of  the  mountaineers,  who  inhabited  the  inacces- 
sible fastnesses  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  and  the  neigh- 
bouring district  of  Loch  Katrine.  Tlicse  were  often  marked 
by  circumstances  of  great  ferocity,  of  which  the  noted  conflict 
of  Glen-fruin  is  a  celebrated  instance.  This  was  a  clan-battle, 
in  which  the  Macgregors,  headed  by  Allaster  Macgregor,  chief 
of  the  clan,  encountered  the  sept  of  Colquhouns,  comman;led 
by  Sir  Humphry  Colquhoun  of  Luss.  It  is  on  all  hands  allow- 
ed, that  the  action  was  desperately  fought,  and  that  the  Col- 
quhouns were  defeated  with  slaughter,  leaving  two  hundred  of 
tlieir  name  dead  upon  the  field.    But  popular  tradition  has 

Y 


324  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

added  other  horrors  to  tlic  talc.  It  is  said,  that  Sir  Humphry 
Colquhoiin,  who  was  on  Jiorseback,  escaped  to  the  castle  of 
Benechra,  or  Banochar,  and  was  next  day  dragged  out  and 
murdered  by  the  victorious  Macgregors  in  cold  blood.  Bucha- 
nan of  Auchraar,  however,  speaks  of  his  slaughter  as  a  subse- 
quent event,  and  as  perpetrated  by  the  Macfarlanes.  Again  it  J| 
is  reported,  that  the  Macgregors  murdered  a  number  of  youths, 
whom  report  of  the  intended  battle  had  brought  to  be  specta- 
tors, and  whom  the  Colquhouns,  anxious  for  their  safety,  had 
sliut  up  in  a  barn  to  be  out  of  danger.  One  account  of  the  | 
Macgregors  denies  this  circumstance  entirely :  another  ascribes  " 
it  to  the  savage  and  blood-thirsty  disposition  of  a  single  indi- 
vidual, the  bastard  brother  of  the  laird  of  Macgrcgor,  who 
amused  himself  with  this  second  massacre  of  the  innocents,  in 
express  disobedience  to  the  chief,  by  whom  he  was  left  their 
guardian  during  the  pursuit  of  the  Colquhouns.  It  is  added, 
that  Macgregor  bitterly  lamented  this  atrocious  action,  and  pro- 
phesied the  ruin  which  it  must  bring  upon  their  ancient  clan. 
The  following  account  of  the  conflict,  which  is  indeed  drawn 
up  by  a  friend  of  the  clan  Gregor,  is  altogether  silent  on  the 
murder  of  the  youths.  "  Jn  the  spring  of  the  year  1602,  there 
happened  great  dissentions  and  troubles  between  the  laird  of 
Luss,  chief  of  the  Colquhouns,  and  Alexander,  laird  of  Mac- 
gregor. The  original  of  these  quarrels  proceeded  from  injuries 
and  provocations  mutually  given  and  received,  not  long  before. 
Macgregor,  however,  wanting  to  have  them  ended  in  friendly 
conferences,  marched  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  of  his  dan. 


NOTES  TO    CANTO  SECOND.  325 

to  Leven,  which  borders  on  Luss,  his  country,  with  a  view  of 
settling  matters  by  the  mediation  of  friends  :  but  Luss  had  no 
such  intentions,  and  projected  his  measures  with  a  different 
view ;  for  he  privately  drew  together  a  body  of  300  horse  and 
500  foot,  composed  partly  of  his  own  clan  and  their  followers, 
and  partly  of  the  Buchanans,  his  neighbours,  and  resolved  to 
cut  off  Macgregor  and  his  party  to  a  man,  in  case  the  issue  of 
the  conference  did  not  answer  his  inclination.  But  matters  fell 
othcrways  than  he  expected ;  and  though  Macgregor  had  pre- 
vious information  of  liis  insidious  design,  yet,  dissembling  his 
resentment,  he  kept  the  appointment,  and  parted  good  friends 
in  appearance. 

"  No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  Luss,  thinking  to  surprise 
him  and  his  party  in  full  security,  and  without  any  dread  or 
apprehension  of  his  treachery,  followed  with  all  speed,  and 
came  up  with  him  at  a  place  called  Glenfroon.  Macgregor, 
upon  the  alarm,  divided  his  men  into  two  parties,  the  greatest 
part  whereof  he  commanded  himself,  and  the  other  he  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  his  brother  John,  who,  by  his  orders,  led 
them  about  another  way,  and  attacked  the  Colquhouns  in  flank. 
Here,  it  was  fought  with  great  braverj-  on  botli  sides  for  a  con- 
siderable time;  and,  notwithstanding  the  vast  disproportion  of 
numbers,  Macgregor,  in  the  end,  obtained  an  absolut-c  victory. 
So  great  was  the  rout,  that  200  of  the  Colquhouns  were  left 
dead  upon  the  spot,  most  of  the  leading  men  were  killed,  and 
a  multitude  of  prisoners  taken.  But  what  seemed  most  sur- 
prising and  incredible  in  this  defeat,  was,  that  none  of  the 


Q'i6  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

Macgiegors  were  missing,  except  John,  the  laird's  brother, 
and  one  common  fellow,  though  indeed  mjiny  of  thcra  were 
wounded." — Professor  Ross's  History  of  the  Family  of  Su- 
therland, 1631. 

The  consequences  of  the  battle  of  Glen-fruin  were  very  cala- 
mitous to  the  family  of  Macgregor,  who  had  already  been  con- 
sidered  as  an  unruly  clan.  The  widows  of  the  slain  Colqu- 
houns,  sixty,  it  is  said,  in  number,  appeared  in  doleful  proces- 
sion before  the  king  at  Stirling,  each  riding  upon  a  white  pal- 
frey, and  bearing  in  her  hand  the  bloody  shirt  of  her  husband 
displayed  upon  a  pike.  James  VI.  was  so  much  moved  by  the 
complaints  of  this  "  choir  of  mourning  dames,"  that  he  let 
loose  his  vengeance  against  the  Macgrcgors,  without  either 
bounds  or  moderation.  The  very  name  of  the  clan  was  pro- 
scribed, and  those  by  wliom  it  had  been  borne  were  given  up 
to  sword  and  fiie,  and  absolutely  hunted  down  by  bloodhounds 
like  wild  beasts.  Argylc  and  the  Campbells,  on  the  one  hand, 
Montrose,  with  the  Grahames  and  Buchanans,  on  the  other, 
are  said  to  have  been  the  chief  instruments  in  suppressing  this 
tlevoted  clan.  The  laird  of  IMacgrcgor  surrendered  to  the  for- 
mer, on  condition,  that  he  would  take  him  out  of  Scottish 
ground.  But,  to  use  Birrel's  expression,  he  kept  "  a  High- 
landman's  promise;"  and,  although  he  fulfilled  his  word  to  the 
letter,  by  canying  him  as  far  as  Berwick,  he  afterwards  brought 
him  back  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  was  executed  with  eighteen 
of  his  clan. — BiRREl's  Diary,  2d  Oct.  1603.  The  clan  Gre- 
gor  being  thus  driven  to  utter  despair,  seem  to  have  renounced 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  •''27 

the  laws  from  the  benefit  of  which  they  were  excluded,  and 
their  depredations  produced  new  acts  of  council,  confirming 
the  severity  of  their  proscription,  which  had  only  the  effect  of 
rendering  them  still  more  united  and  desperate.  It  is  a  most 
extraordinary  proof  of  the  ardent  and  invincible  spirit  of  clan- 
ship, that,  notwithstanding  the  repeated  proscriptions  provi- 
dently ordained  by  the  legislature,  "  for  the  timeous preventing 
the  disorders  and  oppression  that  may  fall  out  by  the  said 
name  and  clan  of  Macgregors,  and  their  followers,"  tliey  were, 
1715  and  1745,  in  a  potent  clan,  and  contimie  to  subsist  as  a 
distinct  and  numerous  race. 

Note  XIV. 
—The  king's  vindictive  pride 


Boasts  to  have  tamed  the  Border  side. — St.  XXVIII,  p.  81. 

In  1529,  James  V.  made  a  convention  at  Edinburgh,  for  the 
purpose  of  considering  the  best  mode  of  quelling  the  Border 
robbers,  who,  during  the  license  of  liis  minority,  and  the  trou- 
bles which  followed,  had  committed  many  exorbitaucies.  Ac- 
cordingly he  assembled  a  flying  army  of  ten  thousand  men, 
consisting  of  his  principal  nobility  and  their  followers,  who 
were  directed  to  bring  their  hawks  and  dogs  with  them,  tliat 
the  monarch  might  refresh  himself  with  sport  dining  the  inter- 
val of  military  execution.  With  this  array  he  swept  through 
Ettrick  forest,  where  he  hanged  over  the  gate  of  his  own  castle. 
Piers  Cockburn  of  Henderland,  who  had  prepared,  according 
to  tradition,  a  feast  for  bk  reocption.    He  caused  Adam  Scott 


328  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

of  Tushielaw  also  to  be  execiital,  who  was  distinguished  by 

the  title  of  King  of  the  Border.     But  the  most  noted  victim  of 

I? 
justice,  during  that  expedition,  was  John  Armstrong  of  Gil-  J. 

nockie,  famous  in  Scottish  song,  who,  confiding  in  his  own  sup- 
posed innocence,  met  the  king,  with  a  retinue  of  thirty -six  per- 
sons, all  of  whom  were  hanged  at  Carlenrig,  near  the  source  of 
the  Teviot.  The  effect  of  this  severity  was  such,  that,  as  the 
vulgar  expressed  it,  "  the  rush-bush  kept  the  cow,*'  and  "  there- 
after was  great  peace  and  rest  a  long  time,  wherethrough  the 
king  had  great  profit ;  for  he  had  ten  thousand  sheep  going  in 
the  Ettrlcke  forest  in  keeping  by  Andrew  Bell,  who  made  the 
king  as  good  count  of  them  as  they  had  gone  in  the  bounds  of 
¥ifc."-^Pitscottie's  History y  p.  153. 

Note  XV. 
What  grace  for  Highland  chiefs  judge  ye^ 
By  fate  of  Border  chivalry. — St.  XXVIII.  p.  82. 
James  was,  in  fact,  equally  attentive  to  restrain  rapine  and 
feudal  oppression  in  every  part  of  his  dominions.    "  The  king 
past  to  the  isles,  and  there  held  justice  courts,  and  punished 
both  thief  and  traitor  according  to  their  demerit.  And  also  he 
caused  great  men  to  show  their  holdings,  wherethrough  he 
found  many  of  the  said  lands  in  non-entry ;  the  which  he  con- 
fiscate and  brought  home  to  his  own  use,  and  afterward  annex- 
ed them  to  the  crown,  as  ye  shall  hear.    Syne  brought  many  of 
the  great  men  of  the  isles  captive  with  him,  such  as  Mudyart, 
M'Connel,  M'Loyd  of  the  Lewes,  M'Neil,  M'Lane,  M'Intosh, 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  329 

John  Miidyart,  M'Kay,  M'Kenzie,  with  many  others  that  I 
cannot  rehearse  at  this  time.  Some  of  them  he  put  in  ward 
and  some  in  court,  and  some  he  tooiv  pledges  for  good  rule  in 
time  coming.  So  he  brought  the  isles,  both  north  and  soutli, 
in  good  rule  and  peace ;  wherefore  he  had  grCat  profit,  service, 
and  obedience  of  people  a  long  time  hereafter ;  and  as  long  as 
he  had  the  heads  of  the  country  in  subjection,  they  lived  in 
great  peace  and  rest,  and  there  was  great  riches  and  policy  by 
the  king's  justice." — Fitscotlie,  p.  152. 

Note  XVI. 

Rest  safe  till  morning — piti/  'twere 

Such  cheek  should  feel  the  midnight  air. — St.  XXXV.  p.  91. 

Hardihood  was  in  every  respect  so  essential  to  the  character 
of  a  Highlander,  that  the  reproach  of  effeminacy  was  the  most 
bitter  which  could  be  thrown  upon  him.  Yet  it  was  sometimes 
hazarded  on  what  we  might  presume  to  think  sliglit  grounds. 
It  is  reported  of  old  Sir  Ewen  Cameron  of  Lochiel,  when  up- 
wards of  seventy,  that  he  was  surprised  by  night  on  a  hunting 
or  military  expedition.  He  wrapped  him  in  his  plaid,  and  Jay 
contentedly  down  upon  the  snow,  with  which  the  ground  hap- 
pened to  be  covered.  Among  his  attendants,  who  were  pre- 
paring to  take  their  rest  in  the  same  manner,  he  observed  that 
one  of  his  grandsons,  for  his  better  accommodation,  had  rolled 
a  lai'gc  snow-ball,  and  placed  it  below  his  head.  The  wrath  of 
the  ancient  chief  was  awakened  by  a  symptom  of  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  degenerate  hixury,     "  Out  upon  thee,"  said  he, 


S30  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOJVD. 

kicking  the  frozen  bolster  from  the  head  which  it  supporteil, 
"  art  thou  so  efFeniinate  as  to  need  a  pillow  ?"  The  officer  of 
engineers,  whose  curious  letters  from  the  Higlilands  have  been 
more  than  once  quoted,  tells  a  similar  story  of  Macdonald  of 
Keppoch,  and  subjoins  the  following  remarks: 

"  This  and  many  other  stories  are  roraantick ;  but  there  is 
one  thing,  that  at  first  thought  might  seem  very  romantick,  of 
which  I  have  been  credibly  assured,  that  when  the  Highlanders 
are  constrained  to  lie  among  the  hills,  in  cold  dry  windy  wea- 
ther,  they  sometimes  soak  the  plaid  in  some  river  or  burn,  (i.  e. 
brook;)  and  then,  holding  up  a  corner  of  it  a  little  above  their 
heads,  they  turn  themselves  round  and  round,  till  they  are  en- 
veloped by  the  whole  mantle.  They  then  lay  themselves  down 
on  tile  heath,  upon  the  leeward  side  of  some  hill,  where  the 
wet  and  the  warmth  of  their  botlics  make  a  steam,  like  tiiat  of 
a  boiling  kettle.  The  wet,  they  say,  keeps  them  warm  by 
thickening  the  stuff,  and  keeping  the  wind  from  penetrating. 

"  I  nmst  confess  I  should  have  been  apt  to  question  this  fact, 
had  I  not  frequently  seen  them  wet  from  morning  to  night ; 
and,  even  at  the  beginning  of  the  rain,  not  so  much  as  stir  a 
few  yards  to  shelter,  but  continue  in  it  without  necessity,  till 
they  were,  as  we  say,  wet  through  and  through.  Ami  that  is 
soon  effected  by  the  looseness  and  spunginess  of  the  plaiding ; 
but  the  bonnet  is  frequently  taken  off,  and  wrung  like  a  disli- 
clout,  and  tlien  put  on  again. 

"  They  have  been  accustomed  from  their  infancy  to  be  often 
wet,  and  to  take  the  water  like  spaniels,  and  tfiis  is  become  a 


4 


I 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND.  331 

second  nature,  and  can  scarcely  be  called  a  hardship  to  thera, 
insomuch  tliat  I  used  to  say,  they  seemed  to  be  of  the  duck- 
kind,  and  to  love  water  as  well.  Though  I  never  saw  this  pre- 
paration for  sleep  in  windy  weather,  yet,  setttng  out  early  in  a 
morning  from  one  of  the  huts,  I  have  seen  the  marks  of  their 
lodging,  where  the  ground  has  been  free  from  rime  or  snow, 
which  remained  all  round  the  spot  .where  they  had  lain." — 
Letters  from  Scotland.   Lond.  1754.  8vo.  II.  p.  108. 


Note  VII  r. 
-His  henchman  came. — St.  XXXV.  p.  91, 


"  This  officer  is  a  sort  of  secretary,  and  is  to  be  ready,  upon 
all  occasions,  to  venture  his  life  in  defence  of  his  master ;  and 
at  drinking-bouts  he  stands  behind  his  seat,  at  his  haunch,  from 
whence  his  title  is  derived,  and  watches  the  conversation,  to 
see  if  any  one  offends  his  patron. 

"  An  English  officer  being  in  company  with  a  certain  chief- 
tain, and  several  other  Highland  gentlemen,  near  Kiilichumen, 
had  an  argument  with  the  great  man ;  and  both  being  well 
warmed  with  usky,  at  last  the  dispute  grew  very  hot. 

"  A  youth  who  was  hanchman,  not  understanding  one  word 
of  English,  imagined  his  chief  was  insulted,  and  thereupon 
drew  his  pistol  from  his  side,  and  snapped  it  at  the  officer's 
head  ;  but  the  pistol  missed  fire,  otherwise  it  is  more  than  pro- 
bable he  might  have  suflered  death  from  the  hand  of  that  little 
vermin. 


332  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SECOND. 

*'  But  it  is  very  disagreeable  to  an  Englishman  over  a  bottle, 
with  the  Highlanders,  to  see  every  one  of  them  have  his  gilly, 
that  is,  his  servant,  standing  behind  him  all  the  while,  let  what 
will  be  the  subject  of  conversation." — Letters  from  Scotland, 
II.  159. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 


.Note  I. 
And  while  the  Fiery  Cross  glanced  like  a  meteor  round. 

St.  I.  p.  98. 
When  a  chieftain  designed  to  summon  his  clan,  upon  any 
sudden  or  important  emergency,  he  slew  a  goat,  and  making  a 
cross  of  any  light  wood,  seared  its  extremities  in  the  fire,  and 
extineuished  them  in  the  blood  of  the  animal.  This  was  called 
the  Fiery  Cross,  also  Crean  Tarigh,  or  the  Cross  of  Shame,  be- 
cause disobedience  to  what  the  symbol  implied,  mferred  infa- 
my. It  was  delivered  to  a  swift  and  trusty  messenger,  who  ran 
full  speed  with  it  to  the  next  hamlet,  where  he  presented  it  to  the 
principal  person,  with  a  single  word,  implying  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous. He  who  received  the  symbol  was  bound  to  send  it 
forwards,  with  equal  dispatch,  to  the  next  village;  and  thus  it 
passed  with  incredible  celerity  through  all  the  district  which 
owed  allegiance  to  the  chief,  and  also  among  his  allies  and 
neighbours,  if  the  danger  was  common  to  them.  At  sight  of  the 

4 


;J34  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

Fieiy  Cross,  every  man,  from  sixteen  years  old  to  sixty,  capa- 
ble of  bearing  armsi  was  obliged  instantly  to  repair,  in  his  best 
arms  and  accoutrements,  to  the  place  of  rendezvous.  He  who 
failed  to  appear,  suffered  the  extremities  of  fire  and  sword, 
which  were  emblematically  denounced  to  the  disobedient  by 
the  bloody  and  burnt  marks  upon  this  warlike  signal.  During 
the  civil  war  of  1745-6,  the  Fiery  Cross  often  made  its  circuit; 
and  upon  one  occasion  it  passed  through  the  whole  district  of 
Breadalbane,  a  tract  of  tliirty-two  miles,  in  three  hours.  The 
late  Alexander  Stuart,  Esq.  of  Invernahyle,  described  to  me 
his  having  sent  round  the  Fiery  Cross  through  the  district  of 
Appine,  during  the  same  commotion.  Tlie  coast  was  threaten- 
ed by  a  descent  from  two  English  frigates,  and  the  flower  of  the 
voungTiien  were  with  the  army  of  Prince  Charles  Edward,  then 
in  Englami;  yet  the  summons  was  so  effectual,  that  even  old 
age  and  childlKxxl  obeyetl  it ;  and  a  foi'ce  was  collected  in  a 
few  hours,  so  numerous  and  so  enthusiastic,  that  all  attempt  at 
the  intended  diversion  upon  the  country  of  the  absent  warriore, 
was  in  prudence  abandoned,  as  desperate.  s 

This  practice,  like  some  others,  is  conamon  to  tbe  High- 
landers with  the  ancient  Scandinavians,  as  will  appear  by  the 
following  extract  from  Olaus  Magnus  : 

"  Wiien  the  enemy  is  upon  the  sea-coast,  or  within  the  limits 
«f  northern  kingdomes,  then  prcsentlj^,  by  the  command  of  the 
provincial  governours,  with  the  counsel  and  consent  of  the  old 
souldiers,  who  are  notably  skilled  in  such  like  business,  a  staff 
of  three  liands  length,  in  the  conmioo  sight  of  them  all,  is  car- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  ti?>5 

ried,  by  the  speedy  running  of  some  active  young  man,  unto 
that  village  or  city,  with  this  command, — that  on  the  3.  4,  or 
8.  day.  one,  two,  or  three,  or  else  every  man  in  particular,  from 
15  years  old,  shall  come  with  his  arms,  and  expences  for  ten 
or  twenty  days,  upon  pain  that  his  or  their  houses  shall  be 
burnt,  (which  is  intimated  by  the  burning  of  the  staff,)  or  else 
the  master  to  be  hanged,  (which  is  signified  by  the  cord  tied  to 
it,)  to  appear  speedily  on  such  a  bank,  or  field,  or  valley,  to 
hear  the  cause  he  is  called,  and  to  receive  orders  from  the  said 
provincial  governours  what  he  shall  do.  Wherefore  that  mes- 
senger, swifter  than  any  post  or  waggon,  having  done  his  com- 
mission, comes  slowly  back  again,  bringing  a  token  with  him 
that  he  hath  done  all  legally ;  and  every  moment  one  or  another 
runs  to  every  village,  aind  tells  those  places  what  they  must  do." 

'*  The  messengers,  therefore,  of  the  footmen,  that 

are  to  give  warning  to  the  people  to  meet  for  the  battail,  run 
fiercely  and  swiftly ;  for  no  snow,  nor  rain,  nor  heat  can  stop 
them,  nor  night  hold  them  ;  bat  they  will  soon  run  the  race 
they  undertake.  The  first  messenger  tells  it  to  the  next  village, 
and  tliat  to  the  next ;  and  so  the  hubbub  runs  all  over,  till 
they  all  know  it  in  that  stift  or  territory,  where,  when,  and 
wherefore  they  must  meet." — Olaus  Magnus'  History  of  the 
Goths,  englished  by  J.  S.    Lond.  1658.  ixjok  iv.  chap.  3,  4. 

Note  II. 
That  Monk  of  savage  form  and  face. — St.  IV.  p.  101. 
Tlie  state  of  religion  in  the  middle  ages  afforded  consider- 


f 


336  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

able  facilities  for  those  whose  mode  of  life  excluded  them  from 
regular  worship,  to  secure,  nevertheless,  the  ghostly  assistance 
of  confessors,  perfectly  willing  to  adapt  the  nature  of  their  doc- 
trine to  the  necessities  and  peculiar  circumstances  of  their 
flock.  Robin  Hood,  it  is  well  known,  had  his  celebrated  do- 
mestic chaplain  Friar  Tuck.  And  that  same  curtal  friar  was 
probably  matched  in  manners  and  appearance  by  the  ghostly 
fathers  of  the  Tynedale  robbers,  who  are  thus  described  in  an 
excommunication  fulminated  against  their  patrons  by  Richard 
Fox,  Bishop  of  Durham,  tempore  Henrici  VIII.  "  We  have 
further  understood,  that  there  are  many  chaplains  in  the  said 
territories  of  Tynedale  and  Redesdale,  who  are  public  and  open 
maintainers  of  concubinage,  irregular,  suspended,  excommuni- 
cated, and  interdicted  persons,  and  withal  so  utterly  ignorant 
of  letters,  that  it  has  been  found  by  those  who  objected  this  to 
them,  that  there  were  some  who,  having  celebrated  mass  for 
ten  years,  were  still  unable  to  read  the  sacramental  service. 
We  have  also  understood  there  are  persons  among  them,  wiio, 
although  not  ordained,  do  take  upon  them  the  offices  of  priest- 
hood ;  and,  in  contempt  of  God,  celebrate  divine  and  sacred 
rites,  and  administer  the  sacraments,  not  only  in  sacred  and 
dedicated  places,  but  in  those  which  are  prophane  and  inter- 
dicted, and  most  wretchedly  ruinous ;  they  themselves  being 
attired  in  ragged,  torn,  and  most  filthy  vestments,  altogether 
unfit  to  be  used  in  divine  or  even  in  temporal  offices.  The 
which  said  chaplains  do  admirJster  sacraments  and  sacramental 
rites  to  the  aforesaid  manifest  and  infamous  thieves,  robbers, 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  337 

depredators,  receivers  of  stolen  goods,  and  plunderers,  and  that 
without  restitution,  or  intention  to  restore,  as  is  evinced  by  the 
fact ;  and  do  also  openly  admit  them  to  the  rites  of  ecclesias- 
tical sepulture,  without  exacting  security  for  restitution,  al- 
though they  are  prohibited  from  doing  so  by  the  sacred  canons, 
as  well  as  by  the  institutes  of  the  saints  and  fathers.  All  which 
infers  the  heavy  penl  of  their  own  souls,  and  is  a  pernicious 
example  to  the  other  behevers  in  Christ,  as  well  as  no  slight, 
but  an  aggravated  injury  to  the  numbers  despoiled  and  plun- 
dered of  their  goods,  gear,  herds,  and  chattels."* 

To  this  lively  and  picturesque  description  of  the  confessors 
and  churchmen  of  predatory  tribes,  there  may  be  added  some 
curious  particulars  respecting  the  priests  attached  to  the  seve- 
ral septs  of  native  Irish,  during  the  reign  of  Queen  EUzabeth. 
These  friars  had  indeed  to  plead,  that  the  incursions,  which 
they  not  only  pardoned,  but  even  encouraged,  were  made  upon 
those  hostile  to  them,  as  well  in  religion  as  from  national  anti- 
pathy. But  by  protestant  writers  they  are  uniformly  alledged 
to  be  the  chief  instruments  of  Irish  insurrection,  the  very  well- 
spring  of  all  rebellion  towards  the  English  government.  Lith- 
gow,  the  Scottish  traveller,  declares  the  Irish  wood-kerne,  or 


*  The  Monition  against  the  Robbers  of  Tjncdale  and  Uedes- 
dalc,  with  which  I  was  favoured  by  my  friend  Mr  Surtccs,  of 
Mainsforth,  may  he  found  in  the  original  Latin,  in  the  Appeiidix 
to  the  Introduction  to  the  Border  Minstrelsy,  JVo.  VII,  fourth 
edition. 


538  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

preclatoi7  tribes,  to  be  but  the  hounds  of  their  hunting  priests, 
who  directed  their  incursions  by  their  pleasure,  partly  for  sus- 
tenance, partly  to  gratify  animosity,  partly  to  foment  general 
division,  and  always  for  the  better  security  and  easier  domina- 
tion of  the  friars.*  Derrick,  the  liveliness  and  minuteness  of 
whose  descriptions  may  frequently  apologize  for  his  doggrel 
verses,  after  describing  an  Irish  feast,  and  the  encouragement 
given,  by  the  songs  of  the  bards,  to  its  termination  in  an  incur- 
sion upon  the  parts  of  the  country  more  immediately  under  the 
dominion  of  the  English,  records  the  no  less  powerful  argu- 
ments used  by  the  friar  to  excite  their  animosity: 


And  more  t"  augment  the  flame, 

and  rancour  of  their  harte. 
The  friar,  of  his  counsells  vile, 

to  ipbelle«  dot'i  imparte, 
Afi'irming  that  it  is 

an  almose  deede  to  God, 
To  make  the  J.nglish  Fubjects  taste 

the  Irishe  rebells  rodOe. 
To  spoile,  to  kill,  to  biiriie, 

this  frier's  cnuasell  is  ; 
And  for  the  doing  of  the  same, 

be  warrantee  hcavenlie  blisse. 
He  tells  a  holie  tale; 

the  white  he  tournes  to  Macke; 
And  through  the  pardons  in  his  male, 

he  workes  a  knavishe  kiiackc. 


The  wreckful  invasion  of  a  part  of  the  English  pale  is  then 


4 


*  Lithgow's  Travels,  first  edit.  p.  431. 
13 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  339 

<lescribed  with  some  spirit ;  the  burning  of  houses,  driving  ofl 
cattle,  and  all  pertaining  to  such  predatory  inroads,  is  illustra- 
ted by  a  rude  cut.  The  defeat  of  the  Irish,  by  a  party  of  Eng- 
lish soldiers  from  the  next  garrison,  is  then  commemorated, 
and  in  like  manner  adorned  with  an  engraving,  in  which  the 
friar  is  exhibited  mourning  over  the  slain  chieftain ;  or,  as  the 
rubric  expresses  it, 

The  friar  then,  that  treacherous  knave,  with  ough  ough-hone  la- 
ment. 
To  see  his  cousin  Devill's-son  to  have  so  foul  event. 

The  matter  is  handled  at  great  length  in  the  text,  of  which 
the  following  verses  are  more  than  sufficient  sample  : — 

The  frier  seying  this, 

lamentes  that  lucklesse  parte, 
And  curscth  to  the  pitte  of  hell 

the  death  man's  sturdie  harte : 
Yet  for  to  quight  them  with 

the  frier  taketh  paine, 
For  all  the  synnes  that  ere  he  did 

remiiision  to  obtaine. 
'And  therefore  swerves  his  booke, 

the  candell  and  the  bell ; 
But  thinke  you  that  suche  apishe  toies 

bring  damned  souls  from  hell  r 
It  'longs  not  to  my  parte 

infernall  tilings  to  knowe  ; 
15     I  bcleve  till  later  dale, 

thei  rise  not  from  belowe. 
Yet  hope  that  friers  give 

to  this  rebellious  rout, 
If  that  their  soules  should  chaunce  in  hell, 

to  bring  tiiem  quicklie  out, 


340  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

Docth  make  thcni  lead  suche  lives, 

as  neither  God  nor  man, 
'Without  revenge  for  their  desartes, 

permit(e  or  suiTtv  can. 
Thus  fi  iers  are  tlie  cause, 

the  fountain  and  the  spring, 
Of  hurleburles  in  this  laude, 

of  cche  unhappie  tiling. 
Thei  cause  them  to  rcbell 
L    against  their  soveraigne  quene  ; 
And  through  rebellion  often  tyraes, 
their  lives  doe  vanishe  clenc. 
,  So  as  by  friers  meanes, 

in  whom  all  follie  swimmc. 
The  Irishc  karne  doe  often  lose 
the  life,  with  hedde  and  liramc.* 

As  the  Irish  tribes,  and  those  of  the  Scottish  Highlands,  are 
much  more  intimately  allied,  by  language,  manners,  dress,  and 
customs,  than  the  antiquaries  of  either  country  have  been  will- 
ing to  admit,  I  flatter  myself  I  have  here  produced  a  strong 
warrant  for  the  character  sketched  in  the  text.  The  following 
picture,  though  of  a  different  kind,  serves  to  establish  the  ex- 
istence of  ascetic  religionists,  to  a  comparatively  late  period, 
in  the  Highlands  and  Western  Isles.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
simplicity  in  the  description,  for  which,  as  for  much  similar  in- 
formation, I  am  obliged  to  Dr  John  Martin,  who  visited  the 


*  This  curious  Picture  of  Ireland  was  inserted  by  theautlior  in 
the  republication  of  Sonicrs'  Tracts,  Vol.  I.,  in  which  the  plates 
lifive  been  also  inserted,  from  tlie  only  impressions  known  to  exist, 
belonging  to  the  copy  in  the  Advocate's  Library.  Sec  Somers' 
Tracts,  Vol.  I.  p.  591,  591. 

1-2 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  341 

Hebrides,  at  the  suggestion  of  Sir  Robert  Sibbald,  a  Scottish 
antiquary  of  eminence,  and  early  in  the  eighteenth  century 
ptibhshed  a  description  of  them,  which  procured  him  admission 
into  tlie  Royal  Society.  He  died  in  London  about  1719.  His 
work  is  a  strange  mixture  of  learning,  observation,  and  gross 
credulity. 

"  I  remember,"  says  this  author,  "  I  have  seen  an  old  lay- 
capuchin  here,  (in  the  island  of  Benbecula,)  called  in  their  lan- 
guage Brahir-bnclU,  tliat  is,  Poor  Brother  ;  which  is  literally 
true ;  for  he  answers  this  character,  having  nothing  but  what 
is  given  him :  he  holds  himself  fully  satisfied  with  food  and  ray- 
ment,  and  lives  in  as  great  simplicity  as  any  of  his  order  ;  his 
diet  is  very  mean,  and  he  drinks  only  fair  water :  his  habit  is 
no  less  mortifying  than  that  of  his  brethren  elsewhere:  he 
wears  a  short  coat,  which  comes  no  forther  than  his  middle, 
with  narrow  sleeves  like  a  waistcoat :  he  wears  a  plad  above 
it,  girt  about  the  middle,  which  reaches  to  his  knee :  the  plad 
is  fastened  on  his  breast  with  a  wooden  pin,  his  neck  bare,  and 
his  feet  often  so  too  :  he  wears  a  hat  for  ornament,  and  the 
string  about  it  is  a  hit  of  a  fisher's  line,  made  of  horse-hair. 
This  plad  he  wears  instead  of  a  gown,  worn  by  those  of  his 
order  in  other  countries.  I  told  him  he  wanted  the  flaxen  gir- 
dle that  men  of  his  order  usually  wear  :  he  answered  me,  that 
he  wore  a  leather  one,  which  was  the  same  thing.  Upon  the 
matter,  if  he  is  spoke  to  when  at  meat,  he  answers  again ;  which 
is.  contrary  to  the  custom  of  his  order.  This  poor  man  frequent- 
ly diverts  himself  witli  angling  of  trouts :  he  lies  upon  straw, 


342  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

and  has  no  bell  (as  others  have)  to  call  him  to  his  devotion,  but 
only  his  conscience,  as  he  told  me." — Martin's  Description 
of  the  fVestern  Islands,  p.  82.  • 

Note  III. 

Of  Brian's  birth  strange  tales  were  told. — St.  V.  p.  102. 

The  legend  which  follows  is  not  of  the  author's  invention. 
It  is  possible  he  may  differ  from  modern  critics,  in  supposing 
that  the  records  of  human  superstition,  if  peculiar  to,  and  cha« 
racteristic  of,  the  country  in  which  the  scene  is  laid,  are  a  legi- 
timate subject  of  poetry.  He  gives,  however,  a  ready  assent 
to  the  narrower  proposition,  which  condemns  all  attempts  of 
an  irregular  and  disordered  fancy  to  excite  terror,  by  accumu- 
lating a  train  of  fantastic  and  incoherent  horrors,  whether  bor- 
rowed from  all  countries,  and  patched  upon  a  narrative  belong- 
ing to  one  which  knew  them  not,  or  derived  from  the  author's 
own  imagination. 

In  the  present  case,  therefore,  I  appeal  to  the  record  which 
I  have  transcribed,  with  the  variation  of  a  very  few  words,  from 
the  geographical  collections  made  by  the  laird  of  Macfarlane. 
I  know  not  whether  it  be  necessary  to  remark,  that  the  mis- 
cellaneous concourse  of  youths  and  maidens  on  the  night,  and 
on  the  spot  where  the  miracle  is  said  to  have  taken  place, 
might,  in  an  incredulous  age,  have  somewhat  diminished  the 
wonder  which  accompanied  the  conception  of  Gilli-Doir-Mag- 
revollich. 

"  There  is  bot  two  myles  from  Inverloghic,  the  church  of 


J 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  343 

Kilmalee,  in  Logliyeld.  In  ancient  tymes  there  was  ane  church 
builded  upon  ane  hill,  which  was  above  this  church,  which  doeth 
now  Stand  in  this  toune;  and  ancient  men  doeth  say,  that  there 
was  a  battell  foughtcn  on  ane  litle  hill  not  the  tenth  part  of  a 
myle  from  this  church,  be  certaine  men  which  they  did  not 
know  what  they  were.     And  long  tyme  thereafter,  ccitaine 
herds  of  that  toune,  and  of  the  next  toune,  called  Unnatt,  both 
wenches  and  youthes,  did  on  a  tyme  conveen  with  others  on 
that  hill ;  and  the  day  being  somewhat  cold,  did  gather  the 
bones  of  the  dead  men  that  were  slayne  long  tyme  before  in 
that  place,  and  did  make  a  fire  to  warm  them.     At  last  they 
did  all  remove  from  the  fire,  except  one  maid  or  wench,  which 
was  verie  cold,  and  she  did  remaine  there  for  a  space.    She  be- 
ing quyetlie  her  alone,  without  anie  other  companie,  took  up 
her  cloaths  above  her  knees,  or  thereby,  to  warm  her  ;  a  wind 
did  come  and  caste  the  ashes  upon  her,  and  she  was  conceived 
of  ane  man-child.  Severall  tymes  thereafter  she  was  verie  sick, 
and  at  last  she  was  knowne  to  be  with  chyld.     And  then  her 
parents  did  ask  at  her  the  matter  heirofF,  which  the  wench  could 
not  weel  answer  which  way  to  satisfie  them.    At  last  she  re- 
solved them  with  ane  answer.     As  fortune  fell  upon  her  con- 
cerning this  marvellous  miracle,  the  chyld  being  borne,  his  name 
was  called  Gili-doir  MaghrevoUich,  that  is  to  say,  the  Black 
child,  Son  to  the  Bones.     So  called,  his  grandfather  sent  him 
to  school,  and  so  he  was  a  good  schollar,  and  godlie.    He  did 
build  this  church  which  doeth  now  stand  in  Lochyeld,  calletl 
Kilmalic." — Macfaulane,  ul  $upra,\\.  1S8. 


1 


;J14  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 


Note  IV. 
Yet  n£er  again  to  braid  her  hair. 
The  virgin  snood  did  Alice  wear. — St.  V.  p.  103. 
The  snood,  or  ribband,  with  whi'  h  a  Scottish  lass  braided 
her  hair,  had  an  emblematical  signification,  and  applied  to  her 
maiden  character.     It  was  exchanged  for  the  rurch,  toy,  or 
coif,  when  she  passed,  by  marriage,    into  the  matron  state. 
But  if  the  damsel  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  pretensions  to 
the  name  of  maiden,  without  gaining  a  right  to  that  of  matron, 
she  was  neither  permitted  to  use  the  snood,  nor  advanced  to 
the  graver  dignity  of  the  curch.     In  old  Scottish  songs  there 
occur  many  sly  allusions  to  such  misfortune,  as  in  the  old 
words  to  the  popular  tune  of  *'  Ower  the  muir  amang  the  hea- 
tlier:" 

Down  aman?  the  broom,  the  brooni, 

Down  amaiit;  the  broom,  m\  dearie, 
Thi"  lassip  lost  her  silken  snood, 

That  gard  her  greet  till  she  was  wearie. 

Note  V. 
The  desert  gave  him  visions  wild, 

Such  as  might  suit  the  spectre's  child.—St.  VII.  p.  105. 

In  adopting  the  legend  concerning  the  birth  of  the  Founder 

of  the  Church  of  Kilmallie,  the  author  has  endeavoured  to 

trace  the  effects  which  such  a  belief  was  likely  to  produce,  in 

a  barbarous  age,  on  the  person  to  whom  it  related.    It  seems 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  S15 

likely  that  he  must  have  become  a  fanatic  or  an  impostor,  or 
that  mixture  of  both  which  forms  a  more  frequent  character 
than  either  of  them,  as  existing  separately.    In  truth,  mad  per- 
sons are  frequently  more  anxious  to  impress  upon  others  a 
faith  in  their  visions,  than  they  are  themselves  confirmed  in 
their  reality  :  as,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  difficult  for  the  most 
cool-headed  impostor  long  to  personate  an  enthusiast,  with- 
out in  some  degree  believing  what  he  is  so  eager  to  have  be- 
lieved.    It  .was  a  natural  attribute  of  such  a  character  as  the 
supposed  hermit,  that  he  should  credit  tlie  numerous  super- 
stitions with  which  the  minds  of  ordinary  Highlanders  are  al- 
most always  embued.      A  few  of  these  are  slightly  alluded  to 
in  this  stanza.     The  River  Daemon,  or  River-horse,  for  it  is 
that  form  which  he  commonly  assumes,  is  tiie  Kelpy  of  the 
lowlands,  an  evil  and  malicious  spirit,  delighting  to  forebode 
and  to  witness  calamity.     He  frequents  most  Higliland  lakes 
and  rivers ;  and  one  of  his  most  memorable  exploits  was  per- 
formed upon  the  banks  of  Locli  Vennachar,  in  the  very  district 
which  forms  the  scene  of  our  action :  it  consisted  in  the  de- 
struction of  a  funeral  procession,  with  all  its  attendants.    Tlie 
"  noontide  hag,"  called  in  Gaelic  G  las-lie  ft,  a  tall,  emaciated, 
gigantic  female  figure,  is  supposed  in  particular  to  haunt  the 
district  of  Knoidart.     A  goblin  dressed  in  antique  armour,  and 
having  one  hand  covered  with  blood,  called,  from  that  circum- 
stance, Lham-ficarg,  or  Red-hand,  is  a  tenant  of  tlie  forests  of 
Glenmore  and  Rothemurcus,     Other  spirits  of  the  desert,  all 
frightful  in  shape,  and  malignant  in  disposition,  are  believed  to 


346  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

frequent  difFerent  mountains  and  glens  of  the  Highlands,  where 
any  unusual  appearance,  produced  by  mist,  or  the  strange  lights 
that  are  sometimes  thrown  upon  particular  objects,  never  fails 
to  present  an  apparition  to  the  imagination  of  the  solitary  and 
melancholy  mountaineer. 

Note  VI. 
The  fatal  Ben-S/iie's  boding  scream. — St.  VII.  p»  106. 
Most  great  families  in  the  Highlands  were  supposed  to  have 
a  tutelar,  or  rather  a  domestic  spirit,  attached  to  them,  who 
took  an  interest  in  their  prosperity,  and  intimated,  by  its  wail- 
ings,  any  approaching  disaster.  That  of  Grant  of  Grant  was 
called  Mai/  Moullachy  and  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  girl,  who 
had  her  arm  covered  with  hair.  Grant  of  Rothemurcus  had 
an  attendant  called  Bodach-an-dun,  or  the  Ghost  of  the  Hill ; 
and  many  other  examples  might  be  mentioned.  The  Ben- 
Shie  *  implies  the  female  Fairy,  whose  lamentations  were  often 
supposed  to  precede  the  death  of  a  chieftain  of  particular  fa- 
milies. When  she  is  visible,  it  is  in  the  form  of  an  old  woman, 
with  a  blue  mantle,  and  streaming  hair.  A  superstition  of  the 
same  kind  is,  I  believe,  universally  received  by  the  inferior  ranks 
of  the  native  Irish. 

The  death  of  the  head  of  a  highland  family  is  also  sometimes 
supposed  to  be  announced  by  a  chain  of  lights  of  different  co- 


*  In  the  first  edition  this  was  erroneously  explained  as  equiva- 
lent to  Uen'Schichiav,  or  the  Head  of  the  Fairies. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  •'5'*7 

lours,  called  Dr'eug,  ov  Death  of  the  Dniid.     The  direction 
which  it  takes  marks  the  place  of  the  fimeral. 

Note  VII. 

Sounds,  too,  had  come  in  midnight  blast, 

Qf^  charging  steeds,  careering  fast 

Along  Benharroio's  shingly  side. 

Where  mortal  horseman  neer  might  n'c?e.— St.  V.  p.  J  06. 
A  presage  of  the  kind  alluded  to  in  the  text  is  still  believed 
to  announce  death  to  the  ancient  highland  family  of  M'Lean 
of  Lochbuy.    The  spirit  of  an  ancestor  slain  in  battle,  is  heard 
to  gallop  along  a  stony  bank,  and  then  to  ride  thrice  around 
the  family  residence,  ringing  his  fairy  bridle,  and  thus  intima- 
ting the  approaching  calamity.     How  easily  the  eye  as  well  as 
the  ear  may  be  deceived  upon  such  occasions,  is  evident  from 
the  stories  of  armies  in  the  air,  and  other  spectral  plioenomena 
with  which  history  abounds.     Such  an  apparition  is  said  to 
have  been  witnessed  upon  the  side  of  Southerfell  mountain, 
between  Penrith  and  Keswick,  upon  the  23d  June,  1744,  by 
two  persons,    William    Lancaster  of  Blakehills,  and  Daniel 
Strickct  his  servant,  whose  attestation  to  the  fact,  with  a  full 
account  of  the  apparition,  dated  the  21st  July,  1785,  is  print- 
ed in  Clarke's  Survey  of  the  Lakes.     The  apparition  consisted 
of  several  troops  of  horse  moving  in  regular  order,  with  a  stea- 
dy rapid  motion,  making  a  curved  sweep  around  the  fell,  and 
seeming  to  the  spectators  to  disappear  over  the  ridge  of  the 
mountain.     Many  persons  witnessed  this  phrenomenon,  and 

13 


34S  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

observed  the  last,  or  last  but  one,  of  the  supposed  troop,  occa- 
sionally leave  his  rank,  and  pass,  at  a  gallop,  to  the  front,  when 
he  resumed  the  same  steady  pace.  This  curious  appearance, 
making  the  necessary  allowance  for  imagination,  may  be  per- 
haps sufficiently  accounted  for  by  optical  deception. — Survey 
of  the  Lakes,  p.  35. 

Supernatural  intimations  of  approaching  fate  are  not,  I  be- 
lieve, confined  to  higliland  families.  Howel  mentions  having 
seen  at  a  lapidary's,  in  1 632,  a  monumental  stone,  prepared  for 
four  persons  of  the  name  of  Oxenham,  before  the  death  of  each 
of  whom,  the  inscription  stated  a  white  bird  to  have  appeared, 
and  fluttered  around  the  bed,  while  the  patient  was  in  the  last 
agony. — Familiar  Letters,  Edit.  1726,  p.  247.  Glanviile  men- 
tions one  family,  the  members  of  which  received  this  solemn 
sign  by  music,  the  sound  of  whicli  floated  from  the  family  resi- 
dence, and  seemed  to  die  in  a  neighbouring  wood ;  another, 
that  of  Captain  Wood  of  Bampton,  to  whom  the  signal  was 
given  by  knocking.  But  the  most  remarkable  instance  of  the 
kind,  occurs  in  the  MS,  Memoirs  of  Lady  Fanshaw,  so  exem- 
plary for  her  conjugal  affection.  Her  husband.  Sir  Richard, 
and  she,  chanced,  during  their  abode  in  Ireland,  to  visit  a  friend, 
the  head  of  a  sept,  who  resided  in  his  ancient  baronial  castle, 
surrounded  with  a  moat.  At  midnight,  she  was  awakened  by 
a  ghastly  and  supernatural  scream,  and  looking  out  of  bed,  be- 
held, by  the  moonlight,  a  female  face  and  part  of  the  form, 
hovering  at  the  window.  The  distance  from  the  ground,  as 
well  as  the  circumstance  of  the  moat,  excluded  the  possibility 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  S49 

that  what  she  beheld  was  of  this  world.  The  face  was  that  of 
a  young  and  rather  handsome  woman,  but  pale,  and  the  hair, 
which  was  reddish,  loose  and  dishevelled.  The  dress,  which 
Lady  Fanshaw's  terror  did  not  prevent  her  remarking  accu- 
rately, was  that  of  the  ancient  Irish.  This  apparition  conti- 
nued to  exhibit  itself  for  some  time,  and  then  vanished  witli 
two  shrieks  similar  to  that  which  had  first  excited  Lady  Fan- 
shaw's attention.  In  the  morning,  with  infinite  terror,  she 
communicated  to  her  host  what  she  had  witnessed,  and  found 
him  prepared  not  only  to  credit  but  to  account  for  the  appari- 
tion. "  A  near  relation  of  my  family,"  said  he,  "  expired  last 
night  in  this  castle.  We  disguised  our  certain  expectation  of 
the  event  from  you,  lest  it  should  throw  a  cloud  over  the  cheer- 
ful reception  which  was  your  due.  Now,  before  such  an  event 
liappens  in  this  family  and  castle,  the  female  spectre  whom 
you  have  seen  always  is  visible.  She  is  believed  to  be  the  spi- 
rit of  a  woman  of  inferior  rank,  whom  one  of  my  ancestors 
degraded  himself  by  marrying,  and  whom  afterwards,  to  expi- 
ate the  dishonour  done  to  his  lamily,  he  caused  to  be  drowned 
in  the  Castle  Moat." 

Note  Vlir. 

Whose  parents  in  Inch-Cailliach  zcave 

Their  shadows  o^er  Clan-Alpine\  grave. — St.  VIII.  p.  107. 

Inch-Cailliach,  the  Isle  of  Nuns,  or  of  Old  Women,  is  a 

most  beautiful  island  at  the  lower  extremity  of  Loch-Lomond. 

The  church  belonging  to  tlie  former  nunnei'y  was  long  used  as 


3S0  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

the  place  of  worship  for  the  parish  of  Buchanan,  but  scarce 
any  vestiges  of  it  now  remain.     The  burial  ground  continues 
to  be  used,  and  contains  the  family  places  of  sepulture  of  se- 
veral neighbouring  clans.      The  monuments  of  the  lairds  of 
Macgregor,  and  of  other  families,  claiming  a  descent  from  the 
old  Scottish  King  Alpine,  are  most  remarkable.    The  High- 
landers are  as  jealous  of  their  rights  of  sepulchre,  as  may  be 
expected  from  a  people  whose  whole  laws  and  government,  if 
clan-ship  can  be  called  so,  turned  upon  the  single  principle  of 
family  descent.     "  May  his  ashes  be  scattered  on  the  water," 
was  one  of  the  deepest  and  most  solemn  imprecations  wliich 
they  used  against  an  enemy. 

'  Note  IX. 
— — —  The  dun  deer's  hide 


On  fleeter  foot  was  never  tied. — St.  XIII.  p.  113. 
The  present  brogue  of  the  Highlanders  is  made  of  half-dried 
leather,  with  holes  to  admit  and  let  out  the  water ;  for  walkw 
ing  the  moors  dry-shod,  is  a  matter  altogether  out  of  question. 
The  ancient  buskin  was  still  ruder,  being  made  of  the  undress'd 
deer's  hide,  with  the  hair  outwards,  a  circumstance  which  pro- 
cured the  Highlanders  the  well-known  epithet  of  Red-shanks. 
The  process  is  very  accurately  described  by  one  Eldar  (him- 
self a  Highlander)  in  the  project  for  a  union  between  England 
and  Scotland,  addressed  to  Henry  VIII.  "  We  go  a  hunting, 
and  after  that  we  have  slain  red-deer,  we  flay  ofi'the  skin  by 
and  by,  and  setting  of  our  bare-foot  on  the  inside  thereof,  for 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  351 

want  of  cunning  shoemakers,  by  your  grace's  pardon,  we  play 
the  coblers,  compassing  and  measuring  so  much  thereof,  as 
shall  reach  up  to  our  ancles,  pricking  the  upper  part  thereof 
with  holes,  that  the  water  may  repass  where  it  enters,  and 
stretching  it  up  with  a  strong  thong  of  the  same  above  our 
said  ancles.  So,  and  please  your  noble  grace,  we  make  our 
shoes.  Therefore,  we  using  such  manner  of  shoes,the  rough 
hairy  side  outwards,  in  your  grace's  dominions  of  England  we 
be  called  Rough-footed  Scots." — Pinkerton's  History,  vol.  11. 
p.  397. 

Note  X. 
The  dismal  Coronach. — St.  XV.  p.  116. 
The  Coronach  of  the  Highlanders,  like  the  TJlulatus  of  the 
Romans,  and  the  Vlaloo  of  the  Irish,  was  a  wild  expression  of 
lamentation  poured  forth  by  the  mourners  over  the  body  of  a 
departed  friend.    When  the  words  of  it  were  articulate,  they 
expressed  the  praises  of  the  deceast,  and  the  loss  the  clan 
would  sustain  by  his  death.     The  following  is  a  lamentation 
of  this  kind,  literally  translated  from  the  Gaelic,  to  some  of  the 
ideas  of  which  the  text  stands  indebted.     The  tune  is  so  po- 
pular, tliat  it  has  since  become  the  war-march,  or  Gathering 
of  the  clan. 

Coronach  on  Sir  Lauchlan,  Chief  of  Maclean. 

AVhicli  of  all  the  Sennachics 

Can  trace  thy  line  from  the  root,  iij)  to  I'aradife, 


^52  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

But  Macvuirili,  (be  son  of  Fergus  ? 
No  sooner  had  thine  ancient  stately  tree 
Taken  firm  root  in  Alhin, 
Than  one  of  thy  forefathers  fell  at  Harlaw. — 
."Twas  then  m  e  loit  a  chief  of  lieathless  name  ! — 

*Tis  no  ba'se  weed — no  (ilanled  tree, 
JSm  a  secdlinj-  of  last  auiuinn  ; 
Kov  a  sapling  planted  ai  lieltain  ;  • 

Wiile,  wide  around,  were  spread  its  lofty  branckes 

But  the  topmost  bou^h  is  'o.*!)  laid  ! 
Thou  hast  forsaken  us  before  Sawaine,  f 

Thv  dwelling  is  the  winter  house;  — 
Loud,  sa  .',  and  iaii;hty  is  thy  d  -alh  song.'— 
Oh  !  courteous  champion  of  !\lontrose! 
Oh  !  stately  warrior  of  the  Celtic  Ibles! 
Thou  shalt  bucke  thy  harness  on  no  more ! 

The  coronach  has  for  some  years  past  been  superseded  at 
funerals  by  the  use  of  the  bag-pipe,  and  that  also  is,  like  many 
other  Highland  peculiarities,  faUing  into  disuse,  unless  in  rev 
mote  districts. 

Note  Xr. 

Benlcdi  saw  the  Cross  of  Fire, 

It  glanced  like  lighttting  up  Strath-Ire. — St.  XVIII.  p.  12.2. 

A  glance  at  the  provincial  map  of  Perthshire,  or  at  any  large 
map  of  Scotland,  will  trace  the  progress  of  the  signal  through 
the  small  ilistrict  of  lakes  and  mountains,  which,  in  exercise 


*  Bels  fire,  or  'VVhitsundav.  f  Halloween. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  353 

of  my  poetical  privilege,  I  have  subjected  to  the  authority  of 
my  imaginary  chieftain;  and  which,  at  the  period  of  my  ro- 
mance, was  really  occupied  by  a  clan  who  claimed  a  descent 
from  Alpine,  a  clan  the  most  unfortunate,  and  most  persecu- 
ted, but  neither  the  least  distinguished,  least  powerful,  or  least 
brave,  of  the  tribes  of  the  Gael. 

Sliochd  nan  Righrc  Duchasach, 
Blia  sliios  an  Diin  S(aibhinisli, 
Aig  an  robli  Crun  na  h'  alba  o  thus, 
S'  aig  a  bheil  Diichas  fathast  ris. 

The  first  stage  of  the  Fiery  Cross  is  to  Duncraggan,  a  place 
near  the  Brigg  of  Turk,  where  a  short  stream  divides  Loch- 
Achray  from  Loch-Vcnnachar.  From  thence,  it  passes  to- 
wards Callender,  and  then,  turning  to  the  left  up  the  pass  of 
Lennie,  is  consigned  to  Norman  at  the  chapel  of  Saint  Bride, 
which  stood  on  a  small  and  romantic  knoll  in  the  middle  of 
the  valley,  called  Strath-Ire.  Tombea  and  Arnandave,  or  Ard- 
mandave,  are  names  of  places  in  the  vicinity.  Tiie  alarm  is 
then  supposed  to  pass  along  the  lake  of  Lubnaig,  and  through 
the  various  glens  in  the  district  of  Balquiddcr,  including  the 
neighbouring  tracts  of  Glenfinlas  and  Strathgartney. 

Note  XII. 
Not  faster  o^er  thy  heathery  braes, 

BalquiJder,  speeds  the  midnight  blaze.— St.  XXIII.  p.  1 23. 
It  may  be  necessary  to  inform  the  southern  reader,  that  tlie 
heath  on  the  Scottish  moor-lands  is  often  set  fire  to,  tliat  the 


354  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

sheep  may  have  the  advantage  of  the  30ung  herbage  produced 
in  room  of  the  tough  old  heather-plants.  This  custom  (exe- 
crated by  sportsmen,)  produces  occasionally  the  most  beauti- 
ful nocturnal  appearance,  similar  almost  to  the  discharge  of  a 
volcano.  The  simile  is  not  new  to  poetry.  The  charge  of  a 
warrior,  in  the  fine  ballad  of  Hardyknute,  is  said  to  be  "  like 
a  fire  to  heather  set." 

Note  XIII. 
By  his  Chieftain's  hand. — St.  XXIII.  p.  1 80. 


The  deep  and  implicit  respect  paid  by  the  highland  clans- 
men to  their  chief,  rendered  this  both  a  common  and  a  solemn 
oath.  In  other  respects,  they  were  like  most  savage  nations, 
capricious  in  their  ideas  concerning  the  obhgatory  power  of 
oaths.  One  solemn  mode  of  swearing  was  by  kissing  the  dirk, 
imprecating  upon  themselves  death  by  that,  or  a  similar  wea- 
pon, if  they  broke  their  vow.  But  for  oaths  in  the  usual  form, 
they  are  said  to  have  had  little  respect.  As  for  the  reverence 
due  to  the  chief,  it  may  be  guessed  from  the  following  odd  ex- 
ample, of  a  Highland  point  of  honour. 

"  The  clan  whereto  the  abovementioned  tribe  belongs,  is  the 
only  one  I  have  heard  of,  which  is  without  a  chief;  that  is, 
being  divided  into  families,  under  several  chieftains,  without 
any  particular  patriarch  of  the  whole  name.  And  this  is  a 
r;reat  reproach,  as  may  appear  from  an  affair  that  fell  out  at  my 
table,  in  the  Highlands,  between  one  of  that  name  and  a  Ca- 
meron, The  provocation  given  by  the  latter,  was — Name  youf 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  355 

ehief. — The  return  to  it,  at  once,  was — You  are  a  fool.  They 
went  out  next  morning,  but  having  early  notice  of  it,  I  sent  a 
small  party  of  soldiers  after  them,  which,  in  all  probability, 
prevented  some  barbarous  mischief,  that  might  have  ensued ; 
for  the  chiefless  Highlander,  who  is  himself  a  petty  chieftain, 
was  going  to  the  place  appointed  with  a  small  sword  and  pistol, 
whereas  the  Cameron  (an  old  man)  took  with  him  only  his 
broad-sword,  according  to  agreement. 

"  When  all  was  over,  and  I  had,  at  least  seemingly,  recon- 
'ciled  them,  I  was  told  the  words,  of  which  I  seemed  to  think 
but  slightly,  were,  to  one  of  that  clan,  the  greatest  of  all  pro- 
vocations."—ie«ers/rofl»  the  North  of  Scotland,  vol.11,  p.  221. 

Note  XIV. 
Coir-nan-Uriskin.—St.  XXIV.  p.  131. 


This  is  a  very  steep  and  most  romantic  hollow  in  the  moun- 
tain of  Benvenue,  overhanging  the  south-eastern  extremity  of 
Loch-Katrine.  It  is  surrounded  with  stupendous  rocks,  and 
overshadowed  with  birch-trees,  mingled  with  oaks,  the  sponta- 
neous production  of  tlie  mountain,  even  where  its  clifFs  ap- 
pear denuded  of  soil.  A  dale  in  so  wild  a  situation,  and  amid 
a  people  whose  genius  bordered  on  the  romantic,  did  not  re- 
main without  appropriate  deities.  The  name  literally  implies 
the  Corri,  or  Den,  of  the  Wild  or  Shaggy  Men.  Perhaps  this, 
as  conjectured  by  Mr  Alexander  Campbell,  *  may  have  origi- 

♦  Journey  from  Edinburgh,  1802,  p.  I  OH, 
2  A 


356  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

nally  only  implied  its  being  the  haunt  of  a  ferocious  banditti. 
But  tradition  has  ascribed  to  the  Urisk,  who  gives  name  to  the 
cavern,  a  figure  between  a  goat  and  a  man  ;  in  short,  however 
much  the  classical  reader  may  be  startled,  precisely  that  of  the 
Grecian  Satyr.  The  Urisk  seems  not  to  have  inherited,  with 
the  form,  the  petulance  of  the  sylvan  deity  of  the  classics :  his 
occupations,  on  the  contrary,  resembled  those  of  Milton's  lubbai- 
fiend,  or  of  the  Scottish  Brownie,  though  he  differed  from  both 
in  name  and  appearance.  "  The  Urisks,"  says  Dr  Graham, 
"  were  a  sort  of  lubberly  supematurals,  who,  like  the  Brownies, 
could  be  gained  over  by  kind  attention,  to  perform  the  drud- 
gery of  the  farm,  and  it  was  believed  that  many  of  the  families 
in  the  Highlands  had  one  of  the  order  attached  to  it.  They 
were  supposed  to  be  dispersed  over  the  Highlands,  each  in  his 
own  wild  recess,  but  the  solemn  stated  meetings  of  the  ordef 
were  regularly  held  in  this  cave  of  Benvenew.  This  current 
superstition,  no  doubt,  alludes  to  some  circumstance  in  the  an- 
cient history  of  this  country." — Scenery  on  the  Southern  Con- 
fines of  Perthshire.     1806.  p.  19. 

It  must  be  owned  that  the  Coir,  or  den,  does  not,  in  its  pre- 
sent state,  meet  our  ideas  of  a  subterranean  grotto  or  cave, 
being  only  a  small  and  narrow  cavity,  among  huge  fragments 
of  rocks,  rudely  piled  together.  But  such  a  scene  is  liable  to 
convulsions  of  nature,  which  a  lowlander  cannot  estimate,  and 
which  may  have  choaked  up  what  was  originally  a  cavern.  At 
least  the  name  and  tradition  authorize  the  author  of  a  fictitious 
tale,  to  assert  its  having  been  such  at  the  remote  period  in 
which  his  scene  is  laid. 


I 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD.  35? 

Note  XV. 

The  wild  pass  of  BeaV-nain-Bo. — St.  XXVI.  p.  IIS. 

Bealach-nam-Bo,  or  the  pass  of  cattle,  is  a  most  magnificent 
glade,  overhung  with  aged  birch  trees,  a  little  higher  up  the 
mountain  than  the  Coir-nan-Uriskin,  treated  of  in  the  last  note. 
The  whole  composes  the  most  sublime  piece  of  scenery  that 
knagination  can  conceive. 

Note  XVI. 

A  single  page  to  bear  his  sword. 

Alone  attended  on  his  Lord. — St.  XXVI.  p.  134. 
A  Highland  chief  being  as  absolute  in  his  patriarchal  autho- 
rity as  any  prince,  had  a  corresponding  number  of  officers  at- 
tached to  his  person.  He  had  his  body-guards,  called  Luicht- 
tach,  picked  from  his  clan  for  strength,  activity,  and  entire 
devotion  to  his  person.  These,  according  to  their  deserts,  were 
sure  to  share  abundantly  in  the  rude  profusion  of  his  hospita- 
lity.  It  is  recorded,  for  example,  by  tradition,  that  Allan 
Mac  Lean,  chief  of  that  clan,  happened  upon  a  time  to  hear 
one  of  these  favourite  retainers  observe  to  his  comrade,  that 
their  chief  grew  old — "  Whence  do  you  infer  that  ?"  rephed 
the  other.  *'  When  was  it,"  rejoined  the  first,  "  that  a  soldier 
of  Allan's  was  obliged,  as  I  am  now,  not  only  to  eat  the  flesh 
from  this  bone,  but  even  to  tear  off  the  inner  skin,  or  filament  ?" 
The  hint  was  quite  sufficient,  and  Mac  Lean  next  morning,  to 
relieve  his  followers  from  such  dire  necessity,  undertook  an  in- 
road on  the  mainland,  the  ravage  of  which  altogether  cfTacetl 
the  memory  of  his  former  expeditions  for  the  like  purpose. 


35^8  NOTES  TO  CANTO  THIRD. 

Our  officer  of  Engineers,  so  often  quoted,  has  given  us  a 
distinct  list  of  the  domestic  officers  who,  independent  of 
Luicht-tach,  or  gardes  de  corps,  belonged  to  the  establishment 
of  a  Hitihland  Chief.  These  are,  1.  The  Hench-man.  See 
these  notes,  p.  331.  2.  The  Bard  See  p.  30".  3.  Bladierf 
or  spokesman.  4.  Gillit-more,  or  Sword-bearer,  alluded  to  in 
the  text.  5.  GiUie-casflue,  who  carried  the  chief,  if  on  foot, 
over  the  fords.  6.  Gdlie'comstraine  ;  who  leads  the  chief's 
horse.  7.  Gillie-Tiushanarinsk  ;  the  baggage-man,  8.  The 
piper.  9.  The  piper's  gillie,  or  attendant,  who  carries  the  bag- 
pipe. *  Althougli  this  appeared,  naturally  enough,  very  ridicu- 
lous to  an  English  officer,  who  considered  the  master  of  such  a 
retinue  as  no  more  than  an  English  gentleman  of 5001.  a  year; 
yet,  in  the  circumstances  of  the  chief,  whofee  strength  and  im- 
portance consisted  in  the  number  and  attachment  of  his  fol- 
lowers, it  was  of  tlie  last  consequence,  in  point  of  policy,  to 
have  ih  his  gift,  subordinate  offices,  which  called  iraiiiediate- 
ly  round  his  person  those  who  were  most  devoted  to  him,  and, 
being  of  value  in  their  estimation,  were  also  tlie  means  of  re- 
warding them. 

*  Letters  from  bcotlund^  vol.  li»  p.  158. 


* 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


Note  I. 
The  Taghairm  call'd,  bj/  which,  afar. 
Our  sires J'oiesazv  tlie  events  of  war. — St.  IV.  p.  146. 
The  Highlanders,  hke  all  rude  people,  had  various  supersti- 
tious  modes  of  enqiuring  into  futurity.    One  of  the  most  noted 
was  the  Taghairm,  mentioned  in  the  text.  A  person  was  wrap- 
ped up  in  the  skin  of  a  newly-slain  bullock,  and  deposited 
beside  a  water-fall,  or  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice,  or  in  some 
other  strange,  wild,  and  unusual  situation,  where  the  scenery 
around  him  suggested  nothing  but  objects  of  horror.     In  this 
situation  he  revolved  in  his  mind  the  question  proposed,  and 
whatever  was  impressed  upon  him  by  his  exalted  imagination, 
passed  for  the  inspiration   of  the  disembodied  spirits,   who 
haunt  these  desolate  recesses.     In  some  of  the  Hebrides,  they 
attributed  the  same  oracular  power  to  a  large  black  stone  by 
the  sea-shore,  which  they  approached  with  certain  solemnities, 
and  considered  the  first  fancy  which  came  into  their  own  minds. 


360  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

after  they  did  so,  to  be  the  undoubted  dictate  of  the  tutelar 
deity  of  the  stone,  and  as  such,  to  be,  if  possible,  punctually 
complied  with.  Martin  has  recorded  the  following  curiou« 
modes  of  Highland  augury,  in  whidi  the  Taghairm,  and  its 
effects  upon  the  person  who  was  subjected  to  it,  may  serve 
to  illustrate  the  text. 

*'  It  was  an  ordinary  thing  among  the  over-curious  to  consult 
an  invisible  oracle,  concerning  the  fate  of  families  and  battles, 
&c.  This  was  performed  three  different  ways  :  the  first  was 
by  a  company  of  men,  one  of  whom  being  detached  by  lot,  was 
afterwards  carried  to  a  river>  which  was  the  boundary  between 
two  villages;  four  of  the  company  laid  hold  on  him,  and,  ha- 
ving shut  his  eyes,  they  took  him  by  the  legs  and  arms,  and 
then,  tossing  him  to  and  again,  struck  his  hips  with  force  against 
the  bank.  One  of  them  cried  out,  What  is  it  you  have  got 
here  ?  another  answers,  A  log  of  birch-wood.  The  other  cries 
again.  Let  his  invisible  friends  appear  from  all  quarters,  and 
let  them  relieve  him  by  giving  an  answer  to  our  present  de- 
mands ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  after,  a  number  of  little  creatures 
came  from  the  sea,  who  answered  the  question,  and  disappear- 
ed suddenly.  The  man  was  then  set  at  liberty,  and  they  all 
returned  home,  to  take  their  measures  according  to  the  pre- 
diction of  their  false  prophets ;  but  the  poor  deluded  fools  were 
abused,  for  the  answer  was  still  ambiguous.  This  was  always 
practised  in  the  night,  and  may  literally  be  called  the  works  of 
darkness. 

"  I  had  an  accoimt  from  the  most  intelligent  and  judicious 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  361 

men  in  the  Isle  of  Skie,  that,  about  sixty-two  jears  ago,  the 
oracle  was  thus  consulted  only  once,  and  that  was  in  the  pa- 
rish of  Kilmartin,  on  the  east  side,  by  a  wicked  and  mischie- 
vous race  of  people,  who  are  now  extinguished,  both  root  and 
branch. 

"  The  second  way  of  consulting  the  oracle  was  by  a  party  of 
men,  who  first  retired  to  solitary  places,  remote  from  any  house, 
and  there  they  singled  out  one  of  their  number,  and  wrapt  him 
in  a  big  cow's  hide,  which  they  folded  about  him  ;  his  whole 
body  was  covered  with  it,  except  his  head,  and  so  left  in  tfiis 
posture  all  night,  until  his  invisible  friends  relieved  liim,  by 
giving  a  proper  answer  to  the  question  in  hand  ;  which  he  re- 
ceived, as  he  fancied,  from  several  persons  that  he  found  about 
him  all  that  time.  His  consorts  returned  to  him  at  the  break 
of  day,  and  then  he  communicated  his  news  to  them ;  which  of- 
ten proved  fatal  to  those  concerned  in  such  unwarrantable  en- 
quiries. 

"  There  was  a  third  way  of  consulting,  which  was  a  confir- 
mation of  the  second  above-mentioned.  •  The  same  company 
who  put  the  man  into  the  hide,  took  a  live  cat,  and  put  him  on 
a  spit ;  one  of  the  number  was  employed  to  turn  the  spit,  and 
one  of  his  consorts  enquired  of  him,  What  are  you  doing  ?  he 
answered,  I  roast  this  cat,  until  his  friends  answer  the  ques- 
tion ;  which  must  be  the  same  that  was  proposed  by  the  man 
shut  up  in  the  hide.    And  afterwards,  a  very  big  cat  *  comes 

^M  ■  .■■■■■  I.      MM^— ^— — ^^H^— — ^M^^^i^^-^M^^^^l^P^^— — ^H^i» 

*  The  reader  may  have  met  with  the  story  of  the  "  King  of 


S62  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

attended  by  a  munber  of  lesser  cats,  desiring  to  relieve  the  cat 
turned  upon  the  spit,  and  then  answers  the  question.  If  this 
answer  proved  the  same  that  was  given  to  the  man  in  the  hide, 
then  it  was  taken  as  a  confirmation  of  the  other,  which,  in  this 
case,  was  believed  infallible. 

"  Mr  Alexander  Cooper,  present  minister  of  North-Vist,  told 
me  that  one  John  Erach,  in  the  Isle  of  Lewis,  assured  him,  it 
was  his  fate  to  have  been  led  by  his  cariosity  with  some  who 
consulted  this  oracle,  and  that  he  was  a  night  within  the  hide, 
as  above-mentioned ;  during  which  time  he  felt  and  heard  such 
terrible  things,  that  he  could  not  express  them ;  the  impression 
it  made  on  him  was  such  as  could  never  go  off,  and  he  said  for 
a  thousand  worlds  he  would  never  again  be  concerned  in  the 
like^  performance,  for  this  had  disordered  liim  to  a  high  degree. 
He  confessed  it  ingenuously,  and  with  an  air  of  great  remorse, 
and  seemed  to  be  very  penitent  under  a  just  sense  of  so  great 
a  crime ;  he  declared  this  about  five  years  since,  and  is  still 
living  in  the  Lewis,  for  any  thing  I  know." — Description  of  (he 
Western  Isles,  p.  110.  See  also  Pennant's  Scottish  Tour, 
vol.  IL  p.  361. 

Note  11. 
The  choicest  of  the  prey  we  had, 

When  swept  our  merry-7nen  Gallan-gad.—St.  IV.  p.  147. 

I  know  not  if  it  be  worth  observing,  that  this  passage  is 

taken  almost  literally  from  the  mouth  of  an  olJ  Highland 


the  Cats,"   in  Lord  Littleton's  Letters,     It  is  well  known  in  the 
Highlands  as  a  nursery  tale. 


NOTES  TO   CANTO  FOURTH.  $« 

Kern,  or  Ketteran,  as  they  were  called.  He  used  to  nai'rate 
the  merry  doings  of  the  good  old  time  when  he  was  follower 
of  Rob  Roy  Macgregor.  This  leader,  on  one  occasion,  thought 
proper  to  make  a  descent  upon  the  lower  part  of  the  Loch- 
Lomond  district,  and  summoned  all  the  heritors  and  farmers  to 
meet  at  the  Kirk  of  Drymen,  to  pay  him  black-mail,  i.  e.  tri- 
bute for  forbearance  and  protection.  As  this  invitation  was 
supported  by  a  band  of  thirty  or  forty  stout  fellows,  only  one 
gentleman,  an  ancestor,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  the  present  Mr 
Grahame  of  Gartinore,  ventured  to  decline  comphance.  Rob 
Roy  instantly  swept  his  land  of  all  he  could  drive  away,  and 
among  the  spoil  was  a  bull  of  the  old  Scottish  wild  breed, 
whose  ferocity  occasioned  great  plague  to  the  Ketterans.  "  But 
ere  we  had  reached  the  Row  of  Dennan,"  said  the  old  man, 
**  a  child  might  have  scratched  his  ears."*  The  circumstance 
is  a  minute  one,  but  it  paints  the  times  when  the  poor  beeve 
was  compelled 

To  hoof  it  o'er  as  many  weary  miles, 

Witb  goading  pikemeii  hollowing  at  his  heels. 

As  e'er  the  bravest  antler  of  the  woods. 

Ethwald. 

Note  IIL 

that  huge  cliff",  whose  ample  verge 

Tradition  calls  the  Hero's  Targe. — St.  V.  p.  1 48. 
There  is  a  rock  so  named  in  the  forest  of  Glenfinlas,  hy 

*  This  anecdote  was,  in  former  editions,  inaccurately  ascribed 
to  Gregor  Alacgre^'or  of  Cilcngjlc,  called  (jhUne  Dim,  or  Black- 
knee,  a  relation  of  Kob  Roy,  but,  as  1  have  been  assured,  not  ad- 
dieted  to  his  predatory  excesses. 


364  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

which  a  tumultuary  cataract  takes  its  course.  This  wild  place 
is  said  in  former  times  to  have  afforded  refuge  to  an  outlaw, 
who  was  supplied  with  provisions  by  a  woman,  who  lowered 
them  down  from  the  brink  of  the  precipice  above.  His  water 
he  procured  for  himself,  by  letting  down  a  flaggon  tied  to  a 
string,  into  the  black  pool  beneath  the  fall. 

Note  IV. 
Or  raven  on  the  blasted  oaky 
That,  watching  while  the  deer  is  broke. 
His  morsel  claims  with  sullen  croak. — St.  V.  p.  148. 
Every  thing  belonging  to  the  chace  was  matter  of  solemnity 
among  our  ancestors,  but  nothing  was  more  so  than  the  mode 
of  cutting  up,  or,  as  it  was  technically  called,  breaking  the 
slaughtered  stag.     The  forester  had  his  allotted  portion ;  the 
hounds  had  a  certain  allowance  ;  and,  to  make  the  division  as 
general  as  possible,  the  very  birds  had  their  share  also.  "  There 
is  a  little  gristle,"  says  Turberville,  "  which  is  upon  the  spoone 
of  the  brisket,  which  we  call  the  raven's  bone ;  and  1  have 
seen  in  some  places  a  raven  so  wont  and  accustomed  to  it, 
that  she  would  never  fail  to  croak  and  cry  for  it  all  the  time 
you  were  in  breaking  up  of  the  deer,  and  would  not  depart  till 
she  had  it."     In  the  very  ancient  metrical  romance  of  Sir  Tris- 
trem,  that  peerless  Knight,  who  is   said  to  have  been  the  very 
deviser  of  all  rules  of  chase,  did  not  omit  this  ceremony: 

"  The  raven  he  yaf  his  yiftes 
Sat  on  the  foui  ched  tree.'^ 

Sir  Tristreh,  2d  Edition,  p.  34. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  365 

The  raven  might  also  challenge  his  rights  by  the  Book  of 
Saint  Albans ;  for  thus  says  Dame  Juliana  Berners  : — 


SlitJeth  anon 


The  bely  to  the  side  fronj  the  corbyn  bone  ; 
That  is  corbins  fee,  at  the  death  he  will  be. 

Jonson,  in  "  The  Sad  Shepherd,"  gives  a  more  poetical  ae- 
count  of  the  same  ceremony. 

Marian. He  that  undoes  him, 

Doth  cleave  the  brisket  bone  upon  the  spoon, 
Of  which  a  little  gristle  grows — you  call  it — 

Robin  Hood.     The  raven's  bone. 

Marian Now  o'er  head  sat  a  raven 

On  a  sere  bough,  a  grown,  great  bird  and  lioarse, 
Who,  all  the  time  the  deer  was  breaking  up. 
So  croaked  and  cried  for  it,  as  all  the  huntsmen, 
Especially  old  Scathlocke,  thought  it  ominous." 

Note  V. 
Which  spills  the  foremost  foeman^s  life, 
That  party  conquers  in  the  strife. — St.  VI.  p.  1 50. 
Though  this  be  in  the  text  described  as  the  response  of  the 
Taghairm,  or  Oracle  of  the  Hide,  it  was  of  itself  an  augury 
frequently  attended  to.     The  fate  of  the  battle  was  often  an- 
ticipated in  the  imagination  of  the  combatants,  by  observing 
which  party  first  shed  blood.     It  is  said  that  the  Highlanders 
under  Montrose,  were  so  deeply  erabued  with  this  notion,  that 
on  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Tippermoor,  they  murdered 
a  defenceless  herdsman,  whom  they  found  in  the  fields,  merely 
to  secure  an  advantage  of  so  mucli  consequence  to  their  party. 


. 


S6«  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


Note  VI. 
Alice  Brand.— 'St.  XII.  p.  158. 
This  little  fairy  tale  is  founded  upon  a  very  curious  Danish 
ballad,  which  occurs  in  the  Kiempe  Viser,  a  collection  of 
heroic  songs,  first  published  in  15:>1,  and  re-printed  in  1695, 
inscribed  by  Anders  Sofrensen,  the  collector  and  editor,  to 
Sophia  Queen  of  Denmark  I  have  been  favoured  with  a  li- 
teral translation  of  the  original,  by  my  learned  friend  Mr  Ro- 
bert Jamieson,  whose  deep  knowledge  of  Scandinavian  anti- 
quities will,  I  hope,  one  day  be  displayed  in  illustration  of  the 
history  of  Scottish  Ballad  and  Song,  for  which  no  man  pos- 
sesses more  ample  materials.  The  stoiy  will  remind  the  read- 
ers of  the  Border  Minstrelsy  of  the  tale  of  the  Young  Tarn- 
lane.  But  this  is  only  a  solitary  and  not  very  marked  instance 
of  coincidence,  whereas  several  of  the  other  ballads  in  thei 
same  collection,  find  exact  counterparts  in  the  Kiempe  Vl- 
SER.  Which  may  have  been  the  originals  will  be  a  question 
for  future  antiquarians.  Mr  Jamieson,  to  secure  the  power  of 
literal  translation,  has  adopted  the  old  Scottish  idiom,  which 
approaches  so  near  to  that  of  the  Danish,  as  almost  to  give 
word  for  word,  as  well  as  line  for  line,  and  indeed  in  many 
verses  the  orthography  alone  is  altered.  As  Wester  Huf,  men- 
tioned in  the  first  stanza  of  the  ballad,  means  the  West  Sea, 
in  opposition  to  the  Baltic,  or  East  Sea,  Mr  Jamieson  inclines 
to  be  of  opinion,  that  the  scene  of  the  dis-enchantment  is  laid 
in  one  of  the  Orkney  or  Ilebride  Islands.  To  each  verse  in 
the  original  is  added  a  burden,  having  a  kind  of  meaning  of  itb 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  567 

own,  but  not  applicable,  at  least  not  uniformly  applicable,  to 
the  sense  of  the  stanza  to  which  it  is  subjoined :  this  is  very 
common  both  in  Dauish  aud  Scottish  song« 


THE  ELFIN  GRAY. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  DANISH  KvF.MPE  VISER,  p.  143,   ANB 
FIRST  PUBLISHED  IN    1591. 


Der  ligser  en  void  i  Vester  Haf, 

r>er  a/rler  en  hnnde  at  h'gge  : 
Hand  fdrer  did  haadl  hog  ug  liund, 

Og  ai;ter  dar  urn  vinferen  at  I'pge- 

(De  VJLDE  DIUB  og  OiUKENE  UDI  SKOFTEN.) 

1. 

There  liggs  a  wold  in  Wester  llaf. 
There  a  busbaixle  means  to  l>ijjg. 
And  thither  li<"  carries  baith  hawk  and  hound, 
There  meaning  tiie  wimer  to  liga;. 

(The  wild  deer  and  dues  i'  theshaw  out.) 
2. 
He  taks  wi'  him  haith  hound  and  cock, 

The  langer  h;-  means  to  stay, 
The  wild  deer  in  the  shaws  that  arc 
May  sairly  rue  the  day. 
{The  wild  deer,  (kc.) 
3. 
He's  hcw'd  the  beech,  and  he's  fell'd  the  aik, 

Sae  has  he  the  poplar  gray  : 
And  }rrim  in  mood  was  the  growsome  elf, 
That  be  sa?  bald  he  may. 


368  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

4. 

He  hew'd  him  kipples,  he  hew'd  him  bawks, 

Wi'  mickle  moil  and  haste ; 
Sync  speer'd  the  elf  in  the  knock  that  bade, 

"  AVha's  hacking  here  sae  fast  ?" 
5. 
Syne  up  and  spak  the  weiest  elf, 

Crean'd  as  an  immert  sma  ; 
"  It's  here  is  cornea  christian  man  ; — 

I'll  fley  him  or  he  ga." 
6. 
It's  up  syne  started  the  iirsten  elf, 

And  glowr'd  about  sae  grim  : 
"  It's  we'll  awa'  to  the  husbande's  house, 

And  hald  a  court  on  him, 
7, 
"  Here  hews  he  down  baith  skugg  and  shaw. 

And  wirks  us  skaith  and  scorn  ; 
His  huswife  he  shall  gie  to  me  ; 

They's  rue  the  day  they  were  born !" 
8. 
The  elfen  a'  i'  the  knock  that  were 

Gaed  dancing  in  a  string ; 
They  nighed  near  the  husband's  house ; — 

Sae  lang  their  tails  did  hing. 
9. 
The  hound  he  yowls  i'  the  yard  ; 

The  herd  toots  in  his  horn  ; 
The  earn  scraichs,  and  the  cock  craws, 

As  the  husbande  had  gi'en  him  his  corn. ' 


'  This  singular  quatrain  stands  thus  in  the  original : 
"  Hundcn  hand  gibr  i  gaarden ; 

Hiorden  tud^  i  sit  horn  ; 
(Ernen  skriger,  og  hanen  galer, 

Som  bonden  bafde  gifvet  sit  korn." 


I 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  s69 

10. 
The  lillfen  were  five  score  and  seven, 

6ae  lafdly  and  sae  jjrim ; 
And  they  the  husbande's  guests  maun  be, 
To  eat  and  drink  nV  him. 
If. 
The  hiisbande  out  o'  Villenshaw 

At  his  winnock  the  Elves  can  see  : 
'*  Help  me,  now,  Jesu,  Mary's  son  ; 
Thir  Elves  they  mint  at  me  !"    - 
12. 
In  every  nook  a  cross  be  coost. 

In  hi  s  chalmer  maist  ava ; 
The  Elfen  a'  were  fley'd  thereat, 
And  flew  to  the  wild- wood  shaw. 
13. 
And  some  flew  east,  and  some  flew  west, 

And  some  to  the  norwast  flew  ; 
And  some  they  flew  to  the  deep  dale  down, 
There  still  they  are,  I  trow.* 
14. 
It  was  then  the  weiest  Elf, 
In  at  the  door  braids  he ; 
Agast  was  the  husbande,  for  that  Eif 
For  cross  nor  sign  wad  flee. 
15. 
>The  huswife  she  was  a  canny  wife, 

She  set  the  Elf  at  the  board  ; 
She  set  before  him  bait!)  ale  and  meat, 
Wi'  mony  a  well-waled  word. 


'  In  the  Danis?!  : 

"  Sommti  floyti  oster,  og  somme  floyi  vester, 

Nogl6  floye  nor  paa ; 
Nogl6  floj^  ned  i  dybone  dalO, 
Jeg  trocr  de  erfi  der  endou." 


w 


*W  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

"  Hear  thou,  Gndeman  o'  Villenshaw, 

What  now  f  say  to  thee  ; 
Wha  bade  thee  bipg  within  our  bounds. 

Without  the  leave  o'  me  ? 
17. 
"  But,  an  thou  in  our  bounds  will  bigg, 

And  bide,  as  well  as  may  be. 
Then  thou  thy  dearest  huswife  maun 

To  me  for  a  lemman  gie." 
18. 
Up  spak  the  luckless  busbande  then, 

As  God  the  grace  him  eae  : 
"  Lline  she  is  to  me  sae  dear, 

Her  thou  may  na-g.i(e  hae." 
19. 
Till  the  Elf  he  answer'd  as  he  couth : 

"  Lat  but  my  huswife  be, 
And  tak  wltate'er  o'  {»utle  or  gear 

Is  mine,  awa  wi"  thee." 

"  Then  ril  thy  Fline  tak  and  thee 

Aneath  my  feet  to  tread  ; 
And  hide  thy  goud  and  wliite  mouie 

Aneath  my  dwalling-stead." 
21. 
The  husbande  and  his  househald  a' 

Insary  rede  they  join  : 
"  Far  better  that  she  be  now  forfairn, 

Nor  that  we  a'  should  tyne." 
23. 
Up,  will  of  rede,  the  husbande  stood, 

Wi'  htart  fu'  sad  and  sair ; 
And  he  basgien  his  huswife  Eline 

Wi'  the  joung  tlf  to  fare. 
12 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH^  571 

23. 
Then  blyth  grew  he,  and  sprang  about ; 

He  took  her  in  bis  arm  : 
The  rud  it  left  her  comely  cheek; 
Her  heart  was  clcm'd  wi'  harm. 
24. 
A  waefu'  woman  than  she  was  ane. 

And  the  moody  tears  loot  fa' : 
"  God  rew  on  me,  unseely  wife. 
How  hard  a  wierd  I  fa ! 
25. 
"  My  fay  I  plight  to  the  fairest  wighf 

That  man  on  mold  mat  see  i 
Maun  I  now  mell  wi'  a  laidly  EI, 
His  light lemuian  to  be?" 
26. 
He  minted  ance— he  minted  twice, 
Wae  wax'd  her  heart  that  syth  : 
Syne  the  laidliest  fiend  he  grew  that  e'er 
To  mortal  ee  did  kyth. 
27. 
When  he  the  thirden  time  can  mint, 

To  Mary's  son  she  pray'd. 
And  the  laidly  elf  was  clean  awa^ 
And  a  fair  knight  in  his  stead, 
28. 
This  fell  under  a  linden  green. 

That  again  iiis  shape  he  found ; 
O'  wae  qnd  care  was  the  word  nae  mair, 
A'  were  sae  glad  that  stound. 
29. 
"  O  dearest  Eline,  hear  thou  this. 

And  thou  my  wife  sal  be, 
And  a'  the  goud  in  merry  Esglantt 
Sae  freely  I'll  gie  thee. 
2B 


372  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

30. 

"  Whan  I  was  but  a  little  wee  bairn. 

My  mitlier  died  me  frae  j 
My  stepinither  sent  me  awa  frae  her  ; 

1  turn'd  till  aa  Elfin.  Gray. 
31. 
"  To  thy  husband  f  a  gift  will  gie, 

Wi'  uiickle  state  and  ^ear. 
As  mends  for  Inline  his  huswife  ;— 

Thou's  be  my  heartis  dear." 
.    32. 
"  Thou  nobil  knyght,  we  thank  now  God 

That  has  freed  us  frae  skaith; 
Sae  wed  thou  thee  a  maiden  free. 

And  joy  attend  ye  bailb  ! 

"  Sin  I  to  thee  na  maik  can  be. 

My  dochter  may  be  thine  ; 
And  thy  gude  will  right  to  fulfill, 
Lat  this  be  our  propiue." 
34. 
"  I  thank  thee,  Eline,  thou  wise  woman ; 

My  praise  thy  worth  sail  hae; 
And  thy  love  gin  I  fail  to  win. 
Thou  here  at  hame  sail  stay." 
3.0. 
The  husbande  biggit  now  on  his  oe. 
And  nae  ane  wrought  him  wrang; 
is  dochter  wore  crown  in  Engelaad, 
And  happy  liv'd  and  lang. 
36. 
Now  liline  the  husbaode's  huswife  has 

Cour'd  a'  her  grief  and  barms; 
She's  mitber  to  a  noblr  queen 
That  sleeps  in  a  kingis  arms. 
2 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


378 


GLOSSARY. 


St.  I.  Wold,  a  wood;  a  woody 
fastness. 

Husbande,  from  the  Uan  has, 
with,  and  bonde,  a  villain,  or 
bondsman,  who  was  a  cultiva- 
tor of  the  ground,  and  c  uld 
not  quit  the  estate  to  which  he 
was  attached,  without  the  per- 
mission ut  his  lord.  'I'his  is  the 
sense  of  the  word,  in  the  old 
Scottish  records.  In  the  Scot- 
tish "  Burghe  Laws,"  trans- 
lated from  the  Rej.  Majest. 
(Auchinleck  MS  in  the  Adv. 
Lib.)  it  is  used  indiscrimmate- 
ly  with  the  Dan,  and  Swed, 
bonde. 

Bigg,  l)uiid. 

Ligg,  lie. 

Dues,  does. 

2.  S/iaw,  wood. 
Sairly,  sorely. 

3.  Aik,  oak. 
Grousome,  terrible. 
Bald,  bold. 

Kipples,  (couples,)  beams  joined 
at  the  top,  for  supporting  a 
roof,  in  building. 

Bawks,  balks;  cross  beams. 

Moil,  laborious  industry. 

Spcei\l,  anked. 

Knock,  hillock. 

r>.  fVcicstf  smallest. 


Crean'rf,  shrunk, diminished;  from 
the  Gaelic,  crian,  very  small. 

Immert,  emmit ;  ant. 

Christian,  used  in  the  Danish  bal- 
lads, &c.  in  contradistinction 
to  demoniac,  as  it  is  in  England^ 
in  contradistinction  to  brutes 
in  which  sen>e,  a  person  of  the 
lower  class,  in  England,  would 
call  a  Jew  or  a  Turk,  a  Chris- 
tian. 

Fley,  frighten. 

6.  Glowrd,  stared. 
Hald,  hold. 

7.  Skugg,  shade. 
Skaith,  harm- 

b.  Nighed,  approached. 

9.  Yoitls,  howls. 

Toots— -in  the  Dan.  ticde,  ia  ap- 
plied both  to  the  howling  of  a 
dog,  and  the  sound  of  a  horn. 

Scraichs,  screams. 

10.  Laidly,  loathly ;  disguBtirtg- 

Grim,  tierce. 

11.  IVinnock,  window. 
Mint,  aim  at. 

12.  Coost,  cast. 
Chatmer,  chamber. 
Maist,  most, 
Jivn,  of  all. 

13.  A^oni</rt,  northward. 
Trow,  believe. 


874 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


14.  Braids,  strides  quickly  for- 
ward. 

■Wad,  would. 

15.  Canny,  adroit. 
Mony,  many. 
Weli-waled,  well  chosen. 

17.  An,  if. 
Bide,  abide. 
Lemman,  mistress. 

18.  Nagnte,  nowise. 

19.  Couth,  could;  knew  how  to. 
Lat  be,  let  alone. 

Glide,  goods ;  property. 

20.  Ancath,  beneath. 
Dwalling'Stcad,  dwelling-place. 

21.  Sarji,  sorrowful. 
Rede,  counsel ;  consultation. 
Forfairn,  forlorn ;  lost ;  gone. 
Tyne,  (verb  neut.)  be  lost;  pe- 
rish. 

22.  Will  of  rede,  bewildered  in 
thought ;  in  the  Danish  origi- 
nal "  vildraadige  ;'''  Lat.  "  in- 
ops  consilii ;"  Gr.  'a^o^uv.  This 
expression  is  left  among  the 
desiderata  in  the  Glossary  to 
Ritson's  Romances,  and  has 
never  been  explained.  It  is 
obsolete  in  the  Danish  as  well 
as  in  English. 

Fare,  go. 

23.  Rud,  red  of  the  check, 
Cleni'd,   in    the    Danish,   klemt  ; 

(which,  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land, is  still  in  use,  as  the  word 
starved  is  with  us  ;)  brought  to 
a  dying  state.  It  is  used  by 
our  old  comedians. 
Hajm,  ^rief;  as  in  the  original, 


and  in  the  old  Teutonic,  Eng- 
lish, and  Scottish  poetry. 

24.  Waefu,  woeful. 

iJ/oorfi/, strongly  and  wilfully  pas- 
sionate. 

Rew,  take  ruth  ;  pity. 

Unseely,  unhappy  ;  unblcst. 

Wierd,  fate. 

Fa,  (Iscl.  Dan.  and  Swed.)  take ; 
get;  acquire;  procure;  have 
for  my  lot. — This  Gothic  verb 
answers,  in  its  direct  and  se- 
condary significations,  exactly 
to  the  Latin  capio  ;  and  Allan 
Ramsay  was  right  in  his  defi- 
nition of  it.  It  is  quite  a  dif- 
ferent word  from  fa\  an  .ab- 
breviation of  'fall,  or  befall  ; 
and  is  the  principal  root  io 
FANGKX,  to  fang,  take,  or  lay 
hold  of. 

25.  Fay,  faith. 
Mold,  mould  ;  earth. 
Mat,  mote ;  might. 
Maun,  must. 

Melt,  mix. 

El,  an  elf.  This  term,  in  the 
Welch,  signifies  what  has  in  it- 
self the  power  of  motion  ;  a  mo- 
ving principle ;  an  intelligence ; 
a  spirit ;  an  angel.  In  the  He- 
brew, it  bears  the  same  import. 

26.  Minted,  attempted  ;  meant ; 
shewed  a  mind,  or  intention  to. 
The  original  is : 

"  Hand  mindte  licnde  forst — og 
anden  gang;— 
Hun  giordis  i  hiortct  sa  vee : 


II 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


;><i) 


End  blef  hand  den  Icdiste  diefvcl 

Mand  kundc  med  oyen  see, 
Der  hand  vilde  minde  den  <redie 
gang,"  &c. 

Syth,  tide ;  time. 
Kyth,  appear. 

28.  Stound,  hour  ;  time  ;  mo- 
ment. 

29.  Merry,  (old  Teut.  mert^,)  fa- 
mous ;  renowned  ;  answering, 
in  its  etymological  meaning, 
exactly  to  the  Latin  maclus. 
Hence  merry-men,  as  the  ad- 
dress of  a  chief  to  his  follow- 
ers ;  meaning  not  men  of  mirth, 


but  of  renown.  The  term  is 
found  ill  its  original  sense  in 
the  Gatjl.  mar,  and  the  Welsh 
mawr,  great ;  and  in  the  oldest 
Teut.  Romances,  mar,  mer,  and 
mere,  have  sometimes  the  same 
signification. 

31.  Mends,  amends ;  recompence. 

3,'? .  Maik,  match  ;  peer  ;  equal. 

Propine,  pledge ;  gift. 

35.  oe,  an  island   of  the  second 
magnitude ;   an  island   of  the 

first  magnitude  being  called  a 
land,  aud  one  of  the  third  mag- 
nitude a  holm. 

36.  Cour\l,  rccoTer'd. 


376  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


THE 

GHAIST'S  WARNING. 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  DANISH  K^MPE  VISER,  p.  721. 

By  the  permission  of  Mr  Jamiescn,  this  ballad  is  added  from  the 
same  curious  Collection.  It  contains  some  passages  of  great 
pathos. 


Svend  Dyriug  hand  rider  sig  op  under  oi, 

(Varejeg  stiver  ung) 
Verfwste  hand  sig  sau  ven  en  mofi. 

(Mig  lytter  udi  lunden  at  ridS,)  &C, 


Child  Dyring  has  ridden  him  up  under  6e,» 

(And  O  gin  I  were  youvg  !) 
There  wedded  be  him  sae  fair  +  a  may. 

(T  the  greentcood  it  lists  me  to  ride.) 


*  "  Under  6e." — The  original  expression  has  been  preserved 
here  and  elsewhere,  because  no  other  could  be  found  to  supply 
its  place.  There  is  just  as  much  meaning  in  it  in  the  translation 
as  in  the  original ;  but  it  is  a  standard  Danish  ballad  phrase,  and 
as  such,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  allowed  to  pass. 

+  "  )  air." — The  Dan.  and  Swed.  ven,  vcen,  or  venn^,  and  the 
Gae>  bdn,  in  the  oblique  cases  bhan  (v&n,)  is  the  origin  of  the 
Scottish  bonny )  which  has  so  much  puzzled  all  the  etymologists. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  377 

Thegither  they  liv'd  for  seven  lang  year, 

(And  0,<^c.) 
And  they  seven  bairns  hae  gotten  in  fere. 

(1'  the  greenwood,  <^c.) 

Sae  Death's  come  there  intill  that  stead. 
And  that  winsome  lily  Hower  is  dead. 

That  swain  be  has  ridden  him  up  under  oe, 
And  syne  he  has  married  anither  may. 

He's  married  a  may,  and  he's  feisen  her  hame  j 
But  she  was  a  grim  and  a  laidly  dame. 


When  into  the  castell  court  drave  she, 

The  seven  bairns  stuid  wi'  the  tear  in  their  ee. 

The  bairns  they  stood  wi'  dule  and  dout: 


Nor  ale  nor  mead  to  the  bairnies  she  gave  s 
•*  But  hunger  and  hate  frae  me  ye's  have." 

She  took  frae  them  the  bowster  blac, 

And  said,  "  Ye  sail  ligg  i'  the  bare  strae  !" 

She  took  frae  them  the  groff  wax  light ; 
Says,  "    -ovi  ye  sail  ligg  i'  the  mirk  a'  night  I" 

'Twas  lang  i'  the  night,  and  the  bairnies  grat  : 
Their  mither  she  under  the  raools  heard  that ; 

That  heard  the  wife  under  the  eard  that  lay  : 
•*  Forsooth  maun  I  to  my  bairnies  gae  !" 

That  wife  can  stand  up  at  our  lords  knee, 
And  "  may  I  gang  and  my  bairnies  see?" 


878  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

Sbe  prigged  sae  sair,  and  she  prigged  sae  lang, 
That  lie  at  the  last  gae  her  leave  to  gang. 

"  And  thou  sail  come  back  whan  the  cock  does  craw> 
For  thou  nae  langer  sail  bide  awa." 

Wi'  her  banes  sae  stark,  a  bowt  she  gae ; 
She's  riven  baith  wa'  and  marble  gray.* 

Whan  near  to  the  dwaliing  she  can  gang, 
The  dogs  they  wow'd  till  the  lift  it  rang. 

Whan  she  came  till  the  castell  yett, 
Her  eldest  dochter  stood  thereat. 

"  Why  stand  ye  here,  dear  docliter  mine  ? 
How  ar6  sma  brithers  and  sisters  thine  ?" 

"  For  sooth  ye're  a  woman  baith  fair  and  fine  j 
But  ye  are  nae  dear  mither  of  mine." 

"  Och !  how  should  I  be  fine  or  fair  ? 

My  cheek  it  is  pale,  and  the  ground's  my  lair.'' 

*'  My  mither  was  white,  wi'  lire  sae  red  ; 
.  But  thou  art  wan,  and  liker  ane  death" 

"  Och  !  how  should  I  be  white  and  red, 
Sae  lang  as  I've  been  cauld  and  dead  ?" 


*  The  original  of  this  and  the  following  stanza  is  very  fine 

"  Hun  skod  op  sini  uiodig^  been, 

Der  revenede  muur  og  graa  marmorsteen." 

"  Der  hun  gik  igenncm  den  by, 

De  hund^  de  tude  saa  hiijt  i  sky." 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  379 

When  she  cam  till  the  chalmer  in, 
Down  the  bairns'  cheeks  the  tears  did  rin. 

She  bnskit  the  tane,  and  she  brush'd  it  there ; 
She  kem'd  and  plaited  the  tither's  hair* 

The  thirden  she  doodl'd  upon  her  knee. 
And  the  fourthen     *     »     *     »     * 

She's  ta'en  the  fiften  upon  her  lap. 
And  sweetly     ***»•* 

Till  her  eldest  dochter  syne  said  she, 

"  Ye  bid  Child  Dyring  come  here  tome." 

Whan  he  cam  till  the  chalmer  in, 
Wi'  angry  mood  she  said  to  him  : 

"  I  left  you  routh  o'  ale  and  bread  ; 
My  bairnies  quail  for  hunger  and  need. 

"  I  left  ahind  me  braw  bowsters  blae ; 
My  bairnies  are  liggin  i'  the  bare  strae> 

"  I  left  ye  sae  mony  a  groff  wax  light ; 
My  bairnies  ligg  i'  the  mark  a'  night. 

"  Gin  aft  I  come  back  to  visit  thee, 
Wae,  dowy,  and  weary  thy  luck  shall  be." 

Up  spak  little  Kirstin  in  bed  that  laye 
"  To  thy  bairnies  I'll  do  the  best  I  may." 

Ay  when  they  heard  the  dog  nir  and  bell, 
Sae  gae  they  the  bairnies  bread  and  ale. 


380  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

Ay  whan  the  do^  did  wow,  in  haste 

They  crossed  and  sain'd  themsella  frae  the  ghaist. 

Ay  whan  the  little  dog  yowl'd  wi'  fear, 

(j4nd  O  gin  I  were  yung  !) 
They  shook  at  the  tliou^ht  that  the  dead  was  near* 

(V  the  greenwood  it  lints  me  to  ride,) 
or, 

(Fair  words  sae  mony  a  heart  they  cheer.) 


I 


f 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


S81 


GLOSSARY. 


St.  I .  Mflj/,  maid. 
Lists,  pleases. 
2    Stead,  place. 

3.  Bairns,  rbildren. 
In  fere,  together. 

Winsome,  engaging;  giving  joy, 
(old  Teut.) 

4.  Syne,  then. 

5.  Fessen,  fetched  ;  brought. 

6.  Drave,  drove. 

7.  Ihile,  sorrow. 
Dout,  fear. 

9.  BoKster,  bolster ;  CHshion ;  bed. 
Blae,  blue. 

Slrae,  straw. 

10.  Groff,  great ;   large  in  girt. 
Mark,  inirk  ;  dark. 

11     hang  V  the  night,  \a,te. 

Grat,  wept. 

Mools,  mould  ;  earth. 

12.  Eard,  earth. 

Gae,  go. 

14.  Prigged,  entreated  earnestly 
and  perseveringly. 

Gang,  go. 

15.  Craw,  crow- 

16.  Banes,  bones. 
Stark,  strong. 

Bowt,  bolt;  clastic  spring,  like 
that  of  a  bolt  or  arrow  from  a 
how. 


Riven,  split  asunder. 

lVa\  wall. 

n.  Wow'd,  howled. 

Lift)  sky  ;  firmament ;  air. 

IS.  Fc^,  gate. 
19.  Sma,  small. 
S2.  Lire,  complexion. 

23.  Cald,  cold. 

24.  Till,  to. 
Rin,  run. 

25.  liuskit,  dressed. 
Kem'd,  combed. 
Tither,  the  other. 

28.  Roulh.  plenty. 
Quaj7,  are  quelled;  die. 
'Ntfd,  want. 

29.  Ahind,  behind. 
Br  aw,  brave  ;  fine. 
.31     Dow)j,  sorrowful. 

33.  Nirr,  snarl. 
Bell,  bark. 

34.  Sained,  blessed  ;  literally, 
signed  nith  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  Hefore  the  introduc- 
tion of  Christianity,  Hiines 
were  used  in  saining,  as  a  spell 
against  the  power  of  enchant- 
ment :ind  evil  genii. 

Ghaist)  ghost. 


382  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 


Note  VII. 
Up  spoke  the  moody  Elfin  King, 

Who  woil'd  within  the  hill. — St.  XII.  p.  160. 

In  a  long  dissertation  upon  the  Fairy  superstition,  publish- 
ed in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  the  most  valuable 
part  of  which  was  supplied  by  my  learned  and  indefatigable 
friend  Dr  John  Leyden,  most  of  the  circumstances  are  collect- 
ed which  can  throw  light  upon  the  popular  belief  which  even 
yet  prevails  respecting  them  in  Scotland,  Dr  Grahame,  au- 
thor of  an  entertaining  work  upon  the  Scenery  of  the  Perth- 
shire Highlands,  already  frequently  quoted,  has  recorded,  with 
great  accuracy,  the  peculiar  tenets  held  by  the  Highlanders  on 
this  topic,  in  the  vicinity  of  Loch-Katrine.  The  learned  au- 
thor is  inclined  to  deduce  the  whole  mythology  from  the  Dru- 
idical  system, — an  opinion  to  which  there  are  many  objec- 
tions. 

'*  The  Daoine  Shi',  or  Men  of  Peace  of  the  Highlanders, 
though  not  absolutely  malevolent,  are  believed  to  be  a  peevish, 
repining  race  of  beings,  who,  possessing  themselves  but  a  scan- 
ty portion  of  happiness,  are  supposed  to  envy  mankind  their 
more  complete  and  substantial  enjoyment.  They  are  suppo- 
sed to  enjoy,  in  their  subterraneous  recesses,  a  sort  of  shadowy 
happiness, — a  tinsel  grandeur;  which,  however,  they  would 
willingly  exchange  for  the  more  solid  joys  of  mortality. 

"  They  are  believed  to  inhabit  certain  round  grassy  emi- 
nences, where  they  celebrate  their  nocturnal  festivities  by  the 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  383 

»ight  of  the  moon.  About  a  mile  beyond  tlie  source  oC  tli£ 
Forth,  above  Lochcon,  there  is  a  place  called  Coirshi'an,  or 
the  Cove  of  the  Men  of  Peace,  whicli  is  still  supposed  to  be  a 
favourite  place  of  their  residence.  In  the  neighbourhood,  are 
to  be  seen  many  round  conical  eminences;  particularly  one, 
near  the  head  of  the  lake,  by  the  skirts  of  which  many  are  still 
afraid  to  pass  after  sunset.  It  is  believed,  that  if,  on  Hallow- 
eve,  any  person,  alone,  goes  round  one  of  these  hills  nine  times, 
towards  the  left  hand  (sinistrorsum),  a  door  shall  open,  by 
which  he  shall  be  admitted  into  their  subterraneous  abodes. 
Many,  it  is  said,  of  mortal  race  have  been  entertained  in 
their  secret  recesses.  There  they  have  been  received  into  the 
most  splendid  apartments,  and  regaled  with  the  most  sump- 
tuous banquets,  and  delicious  wines.  Their  females  surpass 
the  daughters  of  men  in  beauty.  The  seemingly  happy  inha- 
bitants pass  their  time  in  festivity,  and,  in  dancing  to  notes 
of  the  softest  music.  Biit  unhappy  is  the  mortal  who  joins  in 
their  joys,  or  ventures  to  partake  of  their  dainties.  By  this  in- 
<Uilgence,  he  forfeits  for  ever  the  society  of  men,  and  is  bound 
down  irrevocably  to  the  condition  of  a  Shi'ich,  or  man  of 
peace. 

*'  A  woman,  as  is  reported  in  the  Highland  tradition,  was 
conveyed,  in  days  of  yore,  into  the  secret  recesses  of  the  men 
of  peace.  There  she  was  recognised  by  one  who  had  former- 
ly been  an  ordinal^  mortal,  but  who  had,  by  some  fatality,  be- 
come associated  with  the  Shi'ichs.  This  acquaintance,  still 
retaining  some  portion  of  human  benevolence,  warned  her  ol' 


384  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH, 

lier  danger,  and  counselled  her,  as  she  valued  her  liberty,  to 
abstain  from  eating  and  drinking  with  them,  for  a  certain  space 
V  of  time.  She  complied  with  the  counsel  of  her  friend ;  and 
when  the  period  assigned  was  elapsed,  she  found  herself  again 
upon  earth,  restored  to  the  society  of  mortals.  It  is  added, 
that  when  she  examined  the  viands  which  had  been  presented 
to  her,  and  which  had  appeared  so  tempting  to  the  eye,  they 
were  found,  now  that  the  enchantment  was  removed,  to  con- 
sist only  of  the  refuse  of  the  earth." — P.  107 — 111. 

Note  VIIL 
Why  soutids  yon  stroke  on  beech  and  oak. 

Our  moonlight  circlets  screen  ? 
Or  who  comes  here  to  chace  the  deer. 
Beloved  of  our  Elfin  Queen  ? — St.  XII.  p.  161. 
It  has  been  already  observed,  that  fairies,  if  not  positively 
malevolent,  are  capricious,  and  easily  offended.    They  are,  like 
other  proprietors  of  forests,  peculiarly  jealous  of  their  rights 
of  vert  and  venison,  as  appears  from  the  cause  of  offence  ta- 
ken, in  the  original  Danish  ballad.     This  jealousy  was  also  an 
attribute  of  the  northern  Duergar,  or  dwarfs ;  to  many  of 
whose  distinctions  the  fairies  seem  to  have  succeeded,  if,  in- 
deed, they  are  not  the  same  class  of  beings.     In  the  huge  me- 
trical record  of  German  chivalry,  entitled  the  Helden-Buch, 
Sir  Hiklebrand,  and  the  other  heroes  of  whom  it  treats,  are 
engaged  in  one  of  their  most  desperate  adventures,  from  a 
rash  violation  of  the  rose-garden  of  an  Elfin,  or  Dwarf  King, 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  385 

There  are  yet  traces  of  a  belief  in  this  worst  and  most  malici- 
ous order  of  Fairies  among  the  Border  Wilds.  Dr  Leyden  has 
introduced  such  a  dwarf  nito  his  ballad  entitled  the  Cout  of 
Keeldar,  and  has  not  forgot  his  characteristic  detestation  of 
the  chace. 

"  The  third  blast  that  young  Keeldar  blew. 

Still  stood  the  limber  reru. 
And  a  wee  man,  of  swarthy  hue, 

Upstarted  bj  a  cairn. 

'*  His  russet  weeds  were  brown  as  heath. 

That  clothes  the  upland  fell; 
And  the  hair  of  his  head  wa!>  frizzly  red 

As  the  purple  heather-bell. 

*'  An  urchin,  clad  in  prickles  red, 

Clun^  cow'riiig  to  bis  arm ; 
The  hounds  they  howl'd,  and  backward  fled. 

As  struck  by  fairy  cbarm. 

"  Why  rises  high  the  stag-hound's  cry, 

Wiiere  stag  hound  ne'er  should  be  ? 
Wbj  wakes  that  horn  the  silent  morn, 

Without  the  leave  of  mef 

•*  Brown  dwarf,  that  o'er  the  niuirland  strays, 

Thy  name  to  Keeldar  tell  !'  — 
'•The  iJrown  Alan  of  tiie  iMuirs,  who  stays 

Beneath  the  heather-bell. 

"  'Tis  sweet  beneath  the  heather-bell 

To  live  ia  autumn  brow  n  ; 
And  swict  ti>    cai  tlie  lav  rocks  swell, 

Far,  tar  from  tower  and  town. 


386  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

"  But  woe  betide  the  shrilling  horn. 

The  chace's  surly  cheer  ! 
And  ever  that  hunter  is  forlorn, 

Whom  6rst  at  morn  I  hear." 

The  poetical  picture  here  given  of  the  Duergar  corresponds 
exactly  with  the  following  Northumbrian  legend,  with  which 
I  was  lately  favoured  by  my  learned  and  kind  friend,  Mr  Sur- 
tees  of  Mainsforth,  who  has  bestowed  indefatigable  labour  upon 
the  antiquities  of  the  English  border  counties.  The  subject  is 
in  itself  so  curious,  that  the  length  of  the  note  will,  I  hope,  be 
pardoned. 

*'  I  have  only  one  record  to  offer  of  the  appearance  of  our 
Northumbrian  Duergar.  My  narratrix  is  Elizabeth  Cockburn, 
an  old  wife  of  Offerton,  in  this  county,  whose  credit,  in  a  ca'se 
of  this  kind,  will  not,  I  hope,  be  much  impeached,  when  I  add, 
that  she  is,  by  her  dull  neighbours,  supposed  to  be  occasionally 
r  insane,  but,  by  herself,  to  be  at  those  times  endowed  with  a  fa^ 
culty  of  seeing  visions,  and  spectral  appearances,  which  shun 
the  common  ken. 

"  In  the  year  before  the  great  rebellion,  two  young  men  from 
Newcastle  were  sporting  on^the  high  moors  above  Elsdon,  and 
after  pursuing  their  game  several  hours,  sat  down  to  dine,  in  a 
green  glen,  near  one  of  the  mountain  streams.  After  their  re- 
past, the  younger  lad  ran  to  the  brook  for  water,  and  after 
stooping  to  drink,  was  surprised,  on  lifting  his  head  again,  by 
the  appearance  of  a  brown  dwarf,  who  stood  on  a  crag  cover- 
ed with  brackens,  across  the  burn.  This  extraordinary  per- 
il 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  38? 

sonage  did  not  appear  to  be  above  half  the  stature  of  a  cotn- 
•nion  man,  but  was  uncommonly  stout  and  broad  built,  having 
the  appearance  of  vast  strengtl^  His  dress  was  entirely  brown, 
the  coloiu-  of  the  brackens,  and  his  head  covered  with  frizzled 
xed  hair.  His  countenance  was  expressive  of  the  most  savage 
ferocity,  and  his  eyes  glared  like  a  bull.  It  seems,  he  address- 
ed the  young  man  first,  threatening  him  with  his  vengeance, 
for  having  trespassed  on  his  tleniesnes,  and  asking  him,  if  he 
knew  in  whose  presence  he  stood  ?  The  youth  replied,  that 
he  now  supposed  him  to  be  the  lord  of  the  moors ;  that  he  of- 
fended through  ignorance ;  and  offered  to  bring  him  the  game 
he  had  killed.  The  dwarf  was  a  little  mollified  by  this  sub- 
mission, but  remarked,  that  nothing  could  be  more  offensive 
to  him  than  such  an  otTer,  as  he  considered  the  wild  animals 
as  his  subjects,  and  never  failed  to  avenge  their  destruction. 
He  condescended  further  to  inform  him,  that  he  was,  like  liim- 
self,  mortal,  though  of  yeai's  far  exceeding  the  lot  of  common 
humanity;  and  (what  I  should  not  have  had  an  idea  of)  that 
he  hoped  for  salvation.  He  never,  he  added,  fed  on  any  tiling 
that  had  life,  but  lived,  in  the  summer,  on  whortleberries,  and 
in  winter,  on  nuts  and  apples,  of  which  he  had  great  store  in 
the  woods.  Finally,  he  invited  his  new  acquaintance  to  ac- 
company him  home,  and  partake  his  hospitality ;  an  offer 
which  the  youtli  was  on  the  point  of  accepting,  and  was  just 
going  to  spring  across  the  biook,  (whicii  if  he  had  done,  says 
Elizabeth,  the  dwarf  would  certainly  have  torn  him  in  pieces,) 
when  his  foot  was  arrested  by  the  voice  of  his  companion, 

2r 


SC8  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

who  thought  he  tarried  long;  and  on  looking  round  agaia, 
"  the  wee  brown  man  was  fled,"  The  story  adds,  that  he 
was  imprudent  enough  to  slight  the  admonition,  and  to  sport 
over  the  moors,  on  his  way  homewards ;  but,  soon  after  hi* 
return,  he  fell  into  a  lingering  disorder,  and  died  within  the 
year." 

Note  IX. 
Or  who  may  dare  on  wold  to  wear 

The  fairy's  fatal  green. — St.  XII.  p.  161. 
As  the  Daoine  Shi',  or  Men  of  Peace,  wore  green  habits, 
they  were  supposed  to  take  offence  when  any  mortals  ven- 
tured to  assume  their  favourite  colour.  Indeed,  from  some 
reason,  which  has  been,  perhaps,  originally  a  general  supersti- 
tion, green  is  held  in  Scotland  to  be  unlucky  to  particular 
tribes  and  counties.  The  Caithness  men,  who  hold  this  be- 
lief, allege,  as  a  reason,  that  their  bands  wore  that  colour  when 
they  were  cut  off  at  the  battle  of  Flodden ;  and  for  the  same 
reason  they  avoid  crossing  the  Ord  on  a  Monday,  being  the 
day  of  the  week  on  which  their  ill-omened  array  set  fortli. 
Green  is  also  disliked  by  those  of  the  name  of  Ogilvy ;  but 
more  especially  is  it  held  fatal  to  the  whole  clan  of  Grahame, 
It  is  remembered  of  an  aged  gentleman  of  that  name,  that 
when  his  horse  fell  in  a  fox-chase,  he  accounted  for  it  at  once, 
by  observing,  that  the  whip-cord  attached  to  his  lash  was  of 
this  unlucky  colour. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  389 


Note  X. 
For  thou  wert  christened  man. — St.  XII.  p.  161. 
The  Elves  were  supposed  greatly  to  envy  the  privileges  ac- 
quired by  Christian  initiation,  and  they  gave  to  those  mortals 
who  had  fallen  into  their  power,  a  certain  precedence,  found- 
ed upon  this  advantageous  distinction.  Tamlane,  in  the  old 
ballad,  describes  his  own  rank  in  the  fairy  procession : — 

"  For  I  ride  on  a  milk-white  steed, 

And  aye  nearest  the  town ; 
Because  I  was  a  clirisiened  knight, 
hey  gie  me  that  renown." 

I  presume,  that,  in  the  Danish  ballad,  the  obstinacy  of  the 
"  Weiest  Elf,"  who  would  not  flee  for  cross  or  sign,  is  to  be 
derived  from  the  circumstance  of  his  having  been  "  christen'd 
man." 

How  eager  the  elves  were  to  obtain  for  their  offspring  the 
prerogatives  of  Christianity,  will  be  proved  by  the  following 
story :  "  In  the  district  called  Haga,  in  Iceland,  dwelt  a  noble- 
man called  Sigward  Forster,  who  had  an  intrigue  with  one  of 
the  subterranean  females.  The  elf  became  pregnant,  and  ex- 
acted from  her  lover  a  firm  promise  that  he  would  procure  the 
baptism  of  the  infant.  At  the  appointed  time,  the  mother 
came  to  the  church-yard,  on  the  wall  of  which  she  placed  a 
golden  cup,  and  a  stole  for  the  priest,  agreeable  to  the  custom 
of  making  an  offering  at  baptism.  She  then  stood  a  little 
apart.     When  the  prieit  left  the  church,   he  enquired  tlic 


S90  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

meaning  of  wliat  he  saw,   and  demanded  of  Sigward,  if  he 
avowed  himself  the  father  of  the  diild.    Biit  Sigward,  ashamed 
of  the  connection,  denied  the  paternity.     He  was  then  interro- 
gated if  he  desired  that  the  child  should  be  baptized;    but 
this  also  he  answered  in  the  negative,  lest,  by  such  request,  he 
should  admit  himself  to  be  the  father.     On  which  the  child 
was  left  untouched,  and  unbaptized.    Whereupon  the  mother, 
in  extreme  wrath,  snatched  up  the  infant  and  the  cup,  and  re- 
tired, leaving  the  priestly  cope,  of  which  fragments  are  still  in 
presentation.    But  this  female  denounced  and  imposed  upon 
Sigward,  and  his  posterity,  to  the  ninth  generation,  a  singular 
disease,  with  which  many  of  his  descendants  are  afflicted  at 
this  day."     Thus  wrote  Einar  Gudmund,  pastor  of  the  parish 
of  Garpsdale,  in  Iceland,  a  man  profoundly  versed  in  learning, 
from  whose  manuscript  it  was  extracted  by  the  learned  Top- 
£xas.-^Historia  Hrolfi  Krakiiy  Hufn'nCi  1715,  prefatio. 


Note  Xr. 
And  gaily  shines  thefairi/  land ; 

But  all  is  glistening  shou: — St.  XV.  p.  16". 
No  fact  respecting  Fairy-land  seems  to  be  better  ascertain- 
ed than  the  fantastic  and  illusory  nature  of  their  apparent 
pleasure  and  splendour.     It  has  been  already  noticed,  in  the  ^, 

former  quotations  from  DrGrahame's  entertaining  volume,  and 
may  be  confirmed  by  the  following  Highland  tradition.  "  A 
woman,  whose  new-born  child  liad  been  conveyed  by  them  in- 
to their  secret  abodes,  was  also  carrie<l  thither  liersclf,  to  re- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  391 

Main,  however,  only  until  she  should  suckle  her  infant.  She, 
one  day,  during  this  period,  ohserved  the  Shi'ichs  busily  em- 
ployed in  mixing  various  ingredients  in  a  boiling  cauldron; 
and,  as  soon  as  the  composition  was  prepared,  she  remarked 
tliat  they  all  carefully  anointed  their  eyes  with  it,  laying  the 
remainder  aside  for  future  use.  In  a  moment  when  they 
were  all  absent,  she  also  attempted  to  anoint  her  eyes  with 
the  precious  drug,  but  had  time  to  apply  it  to  one  eye  only, 
when  the  Daome  Shi  returned.  But  with  that  eye  she  was 
henceforth  enabled  to  see  every  thing  as  it  really  passed  in 
their  secret  abodes  :— she  saw  every  object,  not  as  she  hither- 
to had  done,  in  deceptive  splendour  and  elegance,  but  in  its 
genuine  colours  and  form.  The  gaudy  ornaments  of  the  apart- 
ment were  reduced  to  the  walls  of  a  gloomy  cavern.  Soon 
after,  having  discharged  her  office,  she  was  dismissed  to  her 
own  home.  Still,  however,  she  retained  the  faculty  of  seeing, 
with  her  medicated  eye,  every  thing  that  v/as  done,  any  where 
in  her  presence,  by  the  deceptive  art  of  the  order.  One  day, 
amidst  a  throng  of  people,  she  chanced  to  observe  the  S/n'icfi, 
or  man  of  peace,  in  wliose  possession  she  had  left  her  child  ; 
though  to  every  other  eye  invisible.  Prompted  by  maternal 
affection,  she  inadvertently  accosted  him,  and  began  to  en- 
quire after  the  welfare  of  her  child.  Tire  man  of  peace,  as- 
tonished at  being  thus  recognised  by  one  of  mortal  race,  dc- 
uiandeil  how  she  had  been  enabled  to  discover  him.  Awed 
by  the  terrible  frown  of  his  countenance,  she  acknowledgetl 


1'' 

1 


3*2  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

what  she  had  done.    He  spat  in  her  eye,  and  extinguished  it 
for  ever." — Grahame's  Sketches,  p.  116 — 118.    It  is  very 
remarkable,  that  this  story,  translated  by  Dr  Grahame  from 
popular  Gaelic  tradition,  is  to  be  found  in  the  Otia  Impcrialia 
of  Gervase  of  Tilbury.     A  work  of  great  interest  might  be 
compiled  upon  the  origin  of  popular  fiction,  and  the  transmis- 
sion of  similar  tales  from  age  to  age,  and  from  country  to  coun- 
try.   The  mythology  of  one  period  would  then  appear  to  pass 
into  the  romance  of  the  next  century,  and  that  into  the  nur- 
sery-tale of  the  subsequent  ages.    Such  an  investigation,  while 
it  went  greatly  to  diminish  our  ideas  of  the  richness  of  human 
invention,  would  also  shew,  that  these  fictions,  however  wild 
and  childish,  possess  such  charms  for  the  populace,  as  enable 
them  to  penetrate  into  countries  unconnected  by  manners  and 
language,  and  having  no  apparent  intercourse,  to  afford  the 
means  of  transmission.     It  would  carry  me  far  beyond  ray 
bounds,   to  produce  instances  of  this  community  of  fable, 
among  nations  who  never  borrowed  from  each  other  any  thing 
intrinsically  worth  learning.     Indeed  the  wide  diffusion  of  po- 
pular fictions  may  be  compared  to  the  facility  with  which 
straws  and  feathers  are  dispersed  abroad  by  the  wind,  while 
valuable  metals, cannot  be  transported  without  trouble  and  la- 
bour.   There  lives,  I  believe,  only  one  gentleman,  whose  un- 
limited acquaintance  with  this  subject  might  enable  him  to  do 
it  justice ;  I  mean  my  friend  Mr  Francis  Douce,  of  the  Bri-  || 

tish  Museum,  whose  usual  kindness  will,  I  hope,  pardon  my 


9 


I 


NOTES  TO    CANTO  FOURTH.  393 

mentioning  his  name,  while  on  a  subject  so  closely  connected 
with  his  extensive  and  curious  researches. 


Note  XII. 
-I  sunk  dozen  in  a  sinful  fray. 


And  'twixt  life  and  death  was  snatch'd  awai/y 
To  the  joy  less  fair  1/  bozcer. 
The  subjects  of  Fairy  Land  were  recruited  from  the  regions 
of  humanity  by  a  sort  of  crimping  system,  which  extended  to 
adults  as  well  as  to  infants.  Many  of  those  who  were  in  this 
world  supposed  to  have  discharged  the  debt  of  nature,  had 
only  become  denizens  of  the  "  Londe  of  Faery."  In  the  beau- 
tiful fairy  Romance  of  Orfee  and  Ilcurodiis  (Orpheus  and  Eu- 
rydice)  in  the  Aucliinleck  MS.  is  the  following  striking  enu- 
meration of  persons  thus  abstracted  from  middle  earth.  Mr 
Ritson  unfortunately  published  this  romance  from  a  copy  in 
which  the  following,  and  many  other  highly  poetical  passages, 
do  not  occur : 

"  Then  he  gan  biholde  aboutc  al, 

And  scighc  ful  liggeand  within  the  wal, 

Of  folk  that  wer  thidder  y-brought, 

And  thought  dedeand  ne'ie  nought ; 

Some  stode  withouten  hadde  ; 

And  sum  none  armes  nade ; 

And  sum  thurch  the  bodi  hadde  wounde  ; 

And  sum  lay  wode  y-bounde; 

And  sum  armed  on  hors  sete; 

And  sum  astrangled  as  thai  ete  ; 


S§*  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

And  sum  war  in  water  adreynt ; 
And  sum  with  fire  al  for-schrejnt ; 
Wives  ther  lay  on  childe  bcdde  ; 
Sum  dede,  and  sum  awedde; 
And  wonder  fele  ther  lay  besides. 
Right  as  thai  slepe  her  undertides; 
Eche  was  thus  in  this  warld  y-nome, 
"With  fairi  thider  j'-come." 

Note  XIII. 
Though  space  and  law  the  stag  we  hnd. 

Who  ever  recked  where,  how,  or  when, 

Tlie  prozo ling  fox  was  trapped  and  slain. — St.  XXX.  p,  185. 

St  John  actually  used  this  illustration  when  engaged  in 
confuting  the  plea  of  law  proposed  for  the  unfortunate  Earl  of 
Strafford :  "  It  was  true,  we  give  laws  to  hares  and  deer,  be- 
cause they  are  beasts  of  chace ;  but  it  was  never  accounted 
either  cruelty  or  foul  play,  to  knock  foxes  or  wolves  on  the 
head  as  they  can  be  found,  because  they  are  beasts  of  prey* 
In  a  word,  the  law  and  humanity  were  alike ;  the  one  being 
more  fallacious,  and  the  other  more  barbarous,  than  in  any  age 
had  been  vented  in  such  an  authority." — Clarendon's  His- 
fory  of  the  Rebellion.  Oxford,  1702.  fol.  vol.  I.  p.  l83. 


Note  XrV. 
■his  Highland  cheer, 


The  harden' djlesh  of  mountain-deer. — St.  XXXI.  p.  t86. 
The  Scottieh  Highlanders,  in  former  times,  had  a  concise 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  3»6 

mode  of  cooking  their  venison,  or  rather  of  dispensing  with 
cooking  it,  which  appears  greatly  to  have  surprised  the  French, 
whom  chance  made  acquainted  with  it.  The  Vidame  of  Char- 
tres,  when  a  hostage  in  England,  during  the  reign  of  Edward 
VI.,  was  permitted  to  travel  into  Scotland,  and  penetrated  as 
far  as  to  the  remote  Highlands,  {au  Jin  fond  des  Sauvages.) 
After  a  great  hunting  party,  at  which  a  most  wonderful  quan- 
tity of  game  was  destroyed,  he  saw  these  Scottish  savages  de- 
vour a  part  of  their  vem'son  raw,  without  any  further  prepara- 
tion than  compressing  it  between  two  battons  of  wood,  so  as 
to  force  out  the  blood,  and  render  it  extremely  hai'd.  This  they 
reckoned  a  great  delicacy;  and  when  the  Vidame  partook  of 
it,  his  compliance  with  their  taste  rendered  him  extremely  po- 
pular. This  curious  trait  of  mamiers  was  communicated  by 
Mons.  de  Montmorency,  a  great  friend  of  the  Vidame,  to  Brai>- 
tome,  by  whom  it  is  recorded  in  Vies  des  Hommes  Illustres 
Discours,  LXXXIX.  art.  14.  The  process  by  which  the  raw 
venison  was  rendered  eatable  is  described  very  minutely  in  the 
romance  of  Perceforest,  where  Estonne,  a  Scottish  knight-er- 
rant, having  slain  a  deer,  says  to  his  companion  Claudius : 
"  Sire,  or  mangerez  vous  et  moy  aussi.  Voire  si  nous  anions 
de  feu,  dit  Claudius.  Par  I'ame  de  mon  pere,  dist  Estonne, 
ie  vous  atourneray  et  cuiray  a  la  maniere  de  nostre  pays  comme 
pour  cheualier  errant.  Lors  tira  son  espee  et  sen  vint  a  la 
branche  dung  arbre,  et  y  fait  vng  grant  trou,  et  pm's  fend  al 
branche  bien  deux  piedz  ct  boute  la  cuisse  du  cerf  entrcdcux. 


396  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH. 

et  puis  prent  le  licol  de  son  cheval  et  en  lye  la  branche  ct  de- 

straint  si  fort  que  le  sang  et  les  humeurs  de  la  chair  saillent 

hors  et  demeure  la  chair  doulce  et  seiche.  Lors  prent  la  chair 

ct  oste  ius  le  cuir  et  la  chaire  demeure  aussi  blanche  comme 

si  ce  feust  dung  chappon.    Dont  dist  a  Claudius,  Sire  ie  la 

vous  ay  cuiste  a  la  guise  de  mon  pays,  vous  en  pouez  manger 

hardyement,  car  ie  mangeray  premier.    Lors  met  sa  main  a  sa 

selle  en  vng  lieu  quil  y  auoit,  et  tire  hors  sel  et  poudre  de 

poiure  et  gingembre,  mesle  ensemble,  et  le  iecte  dessus,  et  le 

frote  sus  bien  fort,  puis  le  couppe  a  moytie,  et  en  donne  a 

Claudius  I'une  des  pieces,  et  puis  mort  en  I'autre  aussi  sauou- 

reusement  quil   est  aduis  que  il  an  feist  la  pouldre  voller. 

Quant  Claudius  veit  quil  le  mangeoit  de  tel  goust  il  en  print 

grant  fain  et  commence  a  manger  tresvoulentiers,  et  dist  a  Es- 

tonne  :  Par  I'ame  de  moy  ie  ne  mangeay  oncquesraais  de  chair 

atoumee  de  telle  guise :  mais  doresenauant  ie  ne  me  retoume- 

roye  pas  hors  de  mon  chemin  par  auoir  la  cuite.    Sire,  dist  Es-  .' 

tonne,  quant  ie  suis  en  desers  d'Escosse,  dont  ie  suis  seigneur,  J 

ie  cheuaucheray  huit  iours  ou  quinze  que  ie  n'entreray  en  chas- 

tel  ne  en  maison,  et  si  ne  verray  feu  ne  personne  viuant  fors 

que  bestes  sauuages,  et  de  celles  mangeray  atournees  en  ceste 

maniere,  et  mieulx  me  plaira  que  la  viande  de  I'empereur. 

Ainsi  sen  vont  mangeant  et  cheuauchant  iusques  adonc  quilz 

arriuerent  sur  une  moult  belle  fontaine  qui  estoit  en  vne  valee. 

Quant  Estonne  la  vit  il  dist  a  Claudius,  allons  boire  a  ceste  | 

fontaine.   Or  beuuons,  dist  Estonne,  du  boire  que  le  grant  dieu 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FOURTH.  397 

a  pourueu  a  toutes  gens,  et  qui  me  plaist  mieulx  que  les  ce- 
ruoises  d'Angleterre." — La  Treselegante  Hystoire  du  tresnoble 
Hoy  Perceforesl.     Paris,  1531,  fol.  tome  I.  fol.  Iv.  vers. 

After  all,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  la  chaire  nostreCf  for 
so  the  French  called  the  venison  thus  summarily  prepared,  was 
any  thing  more  than  a  mere  rude  kind  of  deer-ham. 


n.. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 


Note  I. 

Nor  then  clainCd  sovereignty  his  due, 

While  Albany,  wil It  feeble  hand, 

Held  borrow' d  truncheon  of  command.— -St.  VI.  p.  198. 
There  is  scarcely  a  more  disorderly  period  in  Scottish  his- 
tory than  that  whicli  succeeded  the  battle  of  Flodden,  and  oc- 
cupied the  minority  of  James  V.  Feuds  of  ancient  standing 
broke  out  like  old  wounds,  and  ever}'  quarrel  among  the  inde- 
pendent nobility,  which  occurred  daily,  and  almost  hourly,  gave 
rise  to  fresh  bloodshed.  "  There  arose,"  says  Pitscottie, "  great 
trouble  and  deadly  feuds  in  many  parts  of  Scotlandj  both  in 
the  north  and  west  parts.  The  Master  of  Forbes,  in  the  north, 
slew  the  Laird  of  Meldrum  under  tryst,  (i.  e.  at  an  agreed  and 
secured  meeting  :)  Likewise,  the  Laird  of  Drummelzier  slew 
the  Lord  Fleming  at  the  hawking;  and,  likewise,  there  was 

slaughter  among  many  other  great  lords,"  p.  121.    Nor  was 

11 


400  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

the  matter  much  mended  under  government  of  the  Earl  of  An- 
gus ;  for  though  he  caused  the  king  to  ride  through  all  Scot- 
land, "  under  pretence  and  colour  of  justice,  to  punish  thief 
and  traitor,  none  were  found  greater  than  were  in  their  own 
company.  And  none  at  that  time  durst  strive  with  a  Doug- 
las, nor  yet  with  a  Douglas's  man,  for  if  they  did,  they  got  the 
worse.  Therefore,  none  durst  plainzie  of  no  extortion,  theft, 
reifF,  nor  slaughter  done  to  them  by  the  Douglasses,  or  their 
men ;  in  that  cause  they  were  not  heard,  so  long  as  the  Doug- 
lasses had  the  court  in  guiding." — Ibid.  p.  133. 

Note  II. 
The  Gael,  of  plain  and  river  heir. 

Shall,  with  strong  hand,  redeem  his  share. — St.  VII.  p.  200. 
The  ancient  Highlanders  verified  in  their  practice  the  lines 
of  Gray : — 

An  iron  race  the  mountain  cliff's  maintain, 

Foes  to  the  gentler  genius  of  the  plain  ; 

For  where  unwearied  sinews  must  be  found, 

With  side-long  plough  to  quell  the  flinty  ground; 

To  turn  the  torrent's  swift-descending  flood  ; 

To  tame  the  savage,  rushing  from  the  wood  ; 

What  wonder  if,  to  patient  valour  train'd, 

They  guard  with  spirit  what  by  strength  they  gain'd; 

And  while  their  rocky  ramparts  round  they  see 

The  rough  abode  of  want  and  liberty, 

(As  lawless  force  from  confldence  will  grow,) 

Insult  the  plenty  of  the  vales  below  i 

Fragment  on  the  Alliance  of  Education  and  Government, 

So  far,  indeed,  was  a  Creagh,  or  foray,  from  being  held  dig- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FITTH.  401 

graceful,  that  a  young  chief  was  always  expected  to  shew  his 
talents  for  command  so  soon  as  he  assumed  it,  by  leading  his 
clan  on  a  successful  enterprise  of  this  nature,  either  against 
a  neighbouring  sept,  for  which  constant  feuds  usually  furnish- 
ed an  apology,  or  against  the  Sassenach,  Saxons,  or  Lowland- 
ers,  for  which  no  apology  was  necessary.  The  Gael,  great 
traditional  historians,  never  forgot  that  the  Lowlands  had,  at 
some  remote  period,  been  the  property  of  their  Celtic  forefa- 
thers, which  furnished  an  ample  vindication  of  all  the  ravages 
that  they  could  make  on  the  unfortunate  districts  which  lay 
within  their  reach.  Sir  James  Grant  of  Grant  is  in  possession 
of  a  letter  of  apology  from  Cameron  of  Lochiel,  whose  men 
had  committed  some  depredation  upon  a  farm  called  Moines, 
occupied  by  one  of  the  Grants.  Lochiel  assures  Grant,  that, 
however  the  mistake  had  happened,  his  instructions  were  pre- 
cise, that  the  party  should  foray  the  province  of  Moray,  (a 
Lowland  district,)  where,  as  he  coolly  observes,  "  all  men  take 
their  prey." 


Note  IIL 
I  only  meant 


To  shew  the  reed  on  which  you  leant. 

Deeming  this  path  you  might  pursue 

Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu. — St.  XI.  p.  206. 

This  incident,  like  some  other  passages  in  the  poem,  illus- 
trative of  the  character  of  the  ancient  Gael,  is  not  imaginary, 
but  borrowed  from  fact.    The  Higlilanders,  with  tlie  incon- 


402  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

sistency  of  most  nations  in  the  same  state,  were  alternately 
capable  of  great  exertions  of  generosity,  and  of  cruel  revenge 
and  perfidy.  The  following  story  I  can  only  quote  from  tra- 
dition, but  with  such  an  assurance  from  those  by  whom  it  was 
communicated,  as  permits  me  little  doubt  of  its  authenticity. 
Early  in  the  last  century,  John  Gunn,  a  noted  Catheran,  or 
Highland  robber,  infested  Inverness-shire,  and  levied  black 
mail  up  to  the  walls  of  the  provincial  capital.  A  garrison  was 
then  maintained  in  the  castle  of  that  town,  and  their  pay  (coun- 
try banks  being  unknown)  was  usually  transmitted  in  specie, 
under  the  guard  of  a  small  escort.  It  chanced  that  the  officer 
who  commanded  this  little  party  was  unexpectedly  obliged  to 
halt,  about  thirty  miles  from  Inverness,  at  a  miserable  inn. 
About  night-fall,  a  stranger,  in  the  Highland  dress,  and  of  very 
prepossessing  appearance,  entered  the  same  house.  Separate 
accommodation  being  impossible,  the  Englishman  offered  the 
newly-arrived  guest  a  part  of  his  supper,  which  was  accepted 
with  reluctance.  By  the  conversation,  he  found  his  new  ac- 
quaintance knew  well  all  the  passes  of  the  country,  which  in- 
duced him  eagerly  to  request  his  company  on  the  ensuing 
morning.  He  neither  disguised  his  business  and  charge,  nor 
his  apprehensions  of  that  celebrated  freebooter,  John  Gunn. 
The  Highlander  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  frankly  con- 
sented to  be  his  guide.  Forth  they  set  in  the  morning  j  and 
in  travelling  through  a  solitary  and  dreary  glen,  the  discourse 
again  turned  on  John  Gunn.  "  Would  you  like  to  see  him  I" 
said  the  guide ;  and,  without  waiting  an  answer  to  this  alarm- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  4017 

ing  question,  he  whistled,  and  the  Engh'sh  officer,  with  his 
small  party,  were  surrounded  by  a  body  of  Highlanders,  whose 
numbers  put  resistance  out  of  question,  and  who  were  all  well 
armed.  "  Stranger,"  resumed  the  guide,  *'  I  am  that  very 
John  Gunn  by  whom  you  feared  to  be  intercepted,  and  not 
without  cause  ;  for  I  came  to  the  inn  last  night  with  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  learning  your  route,  that  I  and  my  followers 
might  ease  you  of  your  charge  by  the  road.  But  I  am  incapa- 
ble of  betraying  the  trust  you  reposed  in  me,  and  having  con- 
vinced you  that  you  were  in  my  power,  I  can  only  dismiss  you 
unplundered  and  uninjured."  He  then  gave  the  officer  direc- 
tions for  his  journey,  and  disappeared  with  his  party,  as  sud- 
denly as  they  had  presented  themselves. 

Note  IV. 

On  Bochastle  the  mouldering  lines. 

Where  RomCf  the  empress  of  the  world, 

Of  yore  her  eagle  wings  unfurled. — St.  XH.  p.  20r. 

The  torrent  which  discharges  itself  from  Lord  Vennachar, 
the  lowest  and  eastmost  of  the  three  lakes  which  form  the 
scenery  adjoining  to  the  Trosachs,  sweeps  through  a  flat  and 
extensive  moor,  called  Bochastle.  Upon  a  small  eminence, 
called  the  Dun  of  Bochastle,  and  indeed  oB  the  plain  itself, 
are  some  entrenchments  win'ch  have  been  thought  Roman. 
There  is  adjacent  to  Callender,  a  sweet  villa,  the  nesidence  of 
Captain  Fairfoul,  entitled  the  Roman  Camp. 

2p 


404  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 


Note  V. 

See  here,  all  vantageless  I  stand. 

Armed,  like  thi/self,  with  single  brand. — Sf.  XII.  p.  208. 
The  duellists  of  former  times  dixl  not  always  stand  upon 
those  punctilios  respecting  equality  of  arms,  which  are  now 
judged  essential  to  fair  combat.  It  is  true,  that  in  fonnal  com- 
bats in  the  lists,  the  parties  were,  by  the  judges  of  the  field, 
put  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  same  circumstances.  But  in 
private  duel  it  was  often  otherwise.  In  that  desperate  com- 
bat which  was  fought  between  Quelus,  a  minion  of  Henry  III. 
of  France,  and  Antrpguet,  with  two  seconds  on  each  side,ironi 
which  only  two  persons  escaped  alive,  Quelus  complained  that 
his  antagonist  had  over  him  the  advantage  of  a  poniard  which 
he  used  in  parrying,  while  his  left  hand,  which  he  was  forced 
to  employ  for  the  same  purpose,  was  cruelly  mangled.  When 
he  charged  Antraguet  with  this  odds,  "  Thou  hast  done 
wrong,"  answered  he,  '*  to  forget  thy  dagger  at  home.  We 
are  here  to  fight,  and  not  to  settle  punctilios  of  arms."  In  a 
similar  duel,  however,  a  younger  brother  of  the  house- of  Au- 
bayne,  in  Angoulesme,  behaved  more  generously  on  the  like 
occasion,  and  at  once  threw  away  his  dagger  when  his  enemy 
challenged  it  as  an  undue  advantage.  But  at  this  time  hardly 
any  thing  can  be  conceived  more  horridly  brutal  and  savage, 
than  the  mode  in  which  private  quarrels  were  conducted  in 
France.  Those  who  were  most  jealous  of  the  point  of  ho- 
nour,  and  acquired  the  title  ©f  linffines,  did  not  scruple  to 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  405 

take  every  advantage  of  strength,  numbers,  surprise,  and  arms, 
to  accomplish  their  revenge.  The  Sieur  de  Brantome,  to  whose 
discourse  on  duels  I  am  obliged  for  these  particulars,  gives  the 
following  account  of  the  death  and  principles  of  his  friend,  the 
Baron  de  Vitaux  : — 

"  J'ay  oui  conter  a  un  Tireur  d'armes,  qui  apprit  a  Millaud  a 
en  tirer,  lequel  s'appelloit  le  Seigneur  Jacques  Ferron,  de  la 
ville  d'Ast,  qui  avoit  este  a  moy,  il  fut  despuis  tue  a  Saincte- 
Basille  en  Gascogne,  lors  que  Monsieur  du  Mayne  I'assiegea, ' 
lui  servant  d'Ingenieur;  ct  de  malheur,  je  I'avois  addresse 
audit  Baron  quelques  trois  mois  auparavant,  pour  I'exercer  Ji 
tirer,  bien  qu'il  en  s9eustprou;  mais  il  n'en  fit  conte :  et  le 
iaissant,  Millaud  s'en  servit,  et  le  rend  it  fort  adroit.  Ce  Seig- 
neur Jacques  done  me  raconta,  qu'il  s'estoit  monte  sur  un 
noyer,  assez  loing,  pour  en  voir  le  combat,  et  qu'il  ne  vist  ja- 
mais homme  y  aller  plus  bravement,  ny  plus  resolument,  ny 
de  grace  plus  asseuree  ny  deterramee.  II  commenpa  de  mai*- 
cher  de  cinquante  pas  vers  son  ennemy,  relevant  souvcnt  ses 
moustaches  en  haut  d'une  main ;  et  estant  a  vingt  pas  de  son 
ennemy,  fnon  plustost)  il  mit  la  main  h  I'espee  qu'iltenoit  en 
la  main,  non  qu'il  I'eust  tiree  encore  ;  mais  en  marchant,  il  fit 
voUer  le  fourreau  en  I'air,  en  le  secouans,  cc  qui  est  le  beau 
de  cela,  et  qui  monstroit  bien  une  grace  de  combat  bien  as- 
sieurte  et  froide,  et  nullement  t^ra^raire,  comme  il  y  en  a  qui 
tirent  leurs  espees  de  ciuq  cents  pas  de  I'ennemy,  voire  de 
uiille,  comme  j'en  ay  veu  aucuns.  Ainsi  mourut  ce  brave  Ba- 
ron, le  parangon  de  France,  qu'on  nommoit  tel,  a  bien  venget 


40G  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

ses  querelles,  par  grandes  et  determin^es  resolutions.  II  n'es- 
toit  pas  seulement  estim^  en  France,  mais  en  Italia,  Espaigne, 
Allemaigne,  en  Boulogne  et  Angleterre :  et  desiroient  fort  les 
Estrangers,  vennnt  en  France,  le  voir ;  car  je  I'ay  veu,  tant  sa 
renommee  voUoit.  II  estoit  fort  petit  de  corps,  mais  fort 
grand  de  courage.  Ses  ennemis  disoient  qii'il  ne  tuoit  pas 
bien  ses  gens,  que  par  advantages  et  superchsries.  Certes,  je 
tiens  de  grands  capitaines,  et  mesme  d'  Italiensj  qui  sont  eatez 
d'autres  fois  les  premiers  vengeurs  du  monde,  in  ogni  mudoi 
disoient-ils,  qui  ont  tenu  cette  maxime,  qu'une  supercherie  ae 
se  devoit  payer  que  par  semblable  monnoye,  et  n'y  alloit  point 
la  de  deshonneur." — Oeuvres  de  Brantome.  Paris,  1787-8. 
Tome  VIII.  p.  90-92.  It  may  be  necessary  to  inform  the 
reader,  that  this  paragon  of  France  was  the  most  foul  assassin 
ofhis  time,  and  had  committed  many  desperate  murders,  chief- 
ly by  the  assistance  of  his  hired  banditti ;  from  which  it  may 
be  conceived  how  little  the  point  of  honour  of  the  period  de- 
served its  name.  I  have  chosen  to  give  my  heroes,  who  are 
indeed  of  an  earlier  period,  a  stronger  tincture  of  the  spirit  of 
chivalry. 

Note  Vr. 

Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhtt, 

That  on  the  field  his  targe  he  threw. — St.  XV.  p.  211. 

A  round  target  of  light  wood,  covered  with  strong  leather, 

and  studded  with  brass  or  iron,  was  a  necessary  part  of  a 

Highlander's  equipment.    In  charging'  regular  troops  they  re- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  46? 

teived  the  thrust  of  the  bayonet  in  this  buckler,  twisted  it 
aside,  aftd  used  the  broad- sword  against  the  encumbered  sol- 
dier. In  the  civil  war  of  1743,  most  of  the  front-rank  of  the 
clans  were  thus  armed ;  and  Captain  Grose  informs  us,  that, 
in  1747,  the  privates  of  the  42d  regiment,  then  in  Flanders, 
were  for  the  most  part  permitted  to  carry  targets. — Military 
Antiquities^  vol,  I.  p.  164.  A  person  thus  armed  had  a  con- 
siderable advantage  in  private  fray.  Among  verses  between 
Swift  and  Sheridan,  lately  published  by  Dr  Barrett,  there  is 
an  account  of  such  an  encounter,  in  which  the  circumstances, 
and  consequently  the  relative  superiority  of  the  combatants,  are 
precisely  the  reverse  oi  those  in  the  text : 


A  Highlander  once  fought  a  Frenchman  at  Margate, 
The  i^eapuns,  a  rapier, a  back-sword,  aaU  target; 
Bri^k  >  oubit  ur  advanced  as  f  iSt  as  he  could, 
But  all  tiis  fine  pushes  were  caught  in  the  wood, 
And  Sawny,  with  'lack-sword,  >lid  slash  him  and  nick  bun. 
While  t'other,  enraged  that  he  could  not  once  prick  him, 
Cried,  "  Sirrah,  you  rascal,  >ou  son  of  a  whore, 
Me  will  fight  you,  be  gar  J  if  jou  11  come  from  your  door." 


Note  VII. 
FoVy  truirCd  abroad  his  arms  to  zcieldy 
FitZ'James's  blade  was  sword  and  shield. — St.  XV.  p.  212. 
The  use  of  defensive  armour,  and  particularly  of  tiie  buck- 
ler or  target,  was  general  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  although 
that  oi  the  single  rapigr  seems  to  have  been  occabionaily  prac- 


408  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

tised  much  earlier.  *  Rowland  Yorke,  however,  who  betrayed 
the  fort  of  Zutphen  to  the  Spaniards,  for  which  good  service 
he  was  afterwards  poisoned  by  them,  is  said  to  have  been  the 
first  who  brought  the  rapier-fight  into  general  use.     Fuller, 
speaking  of  the  Swash-bucklers,  or  bullies  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's time,  says,  *'  West  Smithfield  was  formerly  called  Ruf- 
fians' Hall,  where  such  men  usually  met,  casually  or  otherwise, 
to  try  masteries  with  sword  and  buckler.   More  were  frighten- 
ed than  hurt,  more  hurt  than  killed  therewith,  it  being  ac- 
counted unmanly  to  strike  beneath  the  knee.    But  since  that 
desperate   traitor  Rowland  Yorke  first  introduced  thrusting 
with  rapiers,  sword  and  buckler  are  disused."     In  The  Two 
Angry  Women  of  Abingdon,  a  comedy,  printed  in  1599,  we 
have  a  pathetic  complaint : — "  Sword  and  buckler  fight  begins 
to  grow  out  of  use.     I  am  sorry  for  it :  I  shall  never  see  good 
manhood  again.    If  it  be  once  gone,  this  poking  fight  of  rapier 
and  dagger  will  come  up;  then  a  tall  man,  and  a  good  sword 
and  buckler  man,  w  ill  be  spitted  like  a  cat  or  rabbit."     But 
the  rapier  had  upon  the  continent  long  superseded,  in  private 
duel,  the  use  of  sword  and  shield.    The  masters  of  the  noble 
science  of  defence  were  chiefly  Italians.    They  made  great 
mystery  of  their  art  and  mode  of  instruction,  never  suffered 
any  person  to  be  present  but  the  scholar  who  was  to  be  taught, 
and  even  examined  closets,  beds,  and  other  places  of  possible 


*  See  Douces  Illustrations  of  Shakesjieare,  vol,  II.  p.  61. 

6 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  409 

concealment.  Their  lessons  often  gave  the  most  treacherous 
advantages ;  for  the  challenger,  having  the  right  to  chuse  liis 
weapons,  frequently  selected  some  strange,  unusual,  and  in- 
convenient kind  of  arms,  the  use  of  which  he  practised  under 
these  instructors,  and  thus  killed  at  his  ease  his  antagonist,  to 
whom  it  was  presented  for  the  first  time  on  the  field  of  bat- 
tle. See  Brantome's  Discourse  on  Duels,  and  the  work  on 
the  same  subject,  *'  si  gentement  ecrit"  by  the  venerable  Dr 
Paris  de  Puteo.  The  Highlanders  continued  to  use  broad- 
sword and  target  until  disarmed  after  the  affair  of  1745-6. 

NoteVIII. 
Like  mountain-cat,  thai  guards  her  young. 
Full  at  Fit z- James's  throat  he  sprung, — St.  XVI.  p.  2l3. 
I  have  not  ventured  to  render  this  duel  so  savagely  despe- 
rate as  that  of  the  celebrated  Sir  Ewan  of  Lochiel,  chief  of  the 
clan  Cameron,  called,  from  his  sable  complexion,  Ewan  Dim. 
He  was  the  last  man  in  Scotland  who  maintained  the  royal 
cause  during  the  great  civil  war,  and  his  constant  incursions 
rendered  him  a  ver)'  unpleasant  neighbour  to  tlie  republican 
garrison  at  Inverlochy,  now  Fort  William,  The  governor  of 
the  fort  detached  a  party  of  three  hundred  men  to  lay  waste 
Lochiel's  possessions,  and  cut  down  his  trees;  but,  in  a  sud- 
den and  desperate  attack,  made  upon  them  by  the  chieftain, 
with  very  inferior  ninnbers,  they  were  almost  all  cut  to  pieces. 
The  skirmish  is  detailetl  in  a  curious  memoir  of  Sir  Ewan'«? 
life,  printed  in  the  Appendix  of  Pennant's  Scottish  Tour. 


I 


41«  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH, 

"  In  this  engagement,  Lochiel  himself  had  several  vyoTider- 
ful  escapes.  In  tiie  retreat  of  the  English,  one  of  the  strong- 
est and  bravest  of  the  officers  retired  behind  a  bush,  when  he 
observed  Lochiel  piu'suing,  and  seeing  him  unaccompanied 
witli  any,  he  leaped  out,  and  thought  him  his  prey.  They  met 
one  another  with  equal  fury.  The  combat  was  long  and  doubt- 
ful :  the  English  gentleman  had  by  far  the  advantage  in  strength 
and  size;  but  Lochiel  exceeding  him  in  nimbleness  and  agili- 
ty, in  the  end  tript  the  sword  out  of  his  hand :  they  closed, 
and  wrestled,  till  both  fell  to  the  ground,  in  each  other's  arms. 
The  English  officer  got  above  Lochiel,  and  pressed  him  hard, 
but  stretching  forth  his  neck,  by  attempting  to  disengage  him- 
self, Lochiel,  who  by  this  time  had  his  hands  at  liberty,  with 
his  left  hand  seized  him  by  the  collar,  and  jumping  at  his  ex- 
tended throat,  he  bit  it  with  his  teeth  quite  through,  and  kept 
such  a  hold  of  his  grasp,  that  he  brought  away  his  moutiiful : 
this,  he  said,  was  the  sweetest  bite  he  ever  had  in  his  lifetime.^* 
•—Vol.  I.  p.  375. 

Note  IX. 
Ye  towers  !  within  whose  circuit  dready 
A  Douglas  hif  his  sovereign  bled  ; 
And  thou,  O  sad  and  fatal  mound  ! 

That  oft  hast  heard  the  dcath-axe  sound  ! — St.  XX.  p.  220. 
Stilling  was  often  polluted  with  noble  blood.     It  is  thus 
apostrophized  by  J,  Jonston : 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  411 


Discordia  tristis 


Heu  quoties  procerum  sanguine  tinxit  humum ! 
Hoc  uno  infelix,  at  felix  cetera,  ntisquani 
Lsetior  aut  coeli  frons  geniusve  soIU 

The  fate  of  William,  eighth  Earl  of  Douglas,  whom  James 
II.  stabbed  in  Stirling  Castle  with  his  own  hand,  and  while 
under  his  royal  safe-conduct,  is  familiar  to  all  who  read  Scot- 
tish history.  Murdack,  Duke  of  Albany,  Duncan,  Earl  of  Len- 
nox, his  father-in-law,  and  his  two  sons,  Walter  and  Alexan- 
der Stewart,  were  executed  at  Stirling,  in  1425.  They  were 
beheaded  upon  an  eminence  without  the  castle  walls,  but 
making  part  of  the  same  liill,  from  whence  they  could  behold 
their  strong  castle  of  Doune,  and  their  extensive  possessions. 
This  "  heading-hill,"  as  it  was  sometimes  termed,  bears  com- 
monly the  less  terrible  name  of  Hurly-hacket,  from  its  having 
been  the  scene  of  a  courtly  amusement  alluded  to  by  Sir  Da- 
vid Lindsay,  who  says  of  the  pastimes  in  which  the  young  king 
was  engaged, 

"  Some  harled  liini  to  the  Hurly-hacket ;" 

which  consisted  in  sliding,  in  some  sort  of  chair  it  may  be 
supposed,  from  top  to  bottom  of  a  smooth  bank.  The  boys  of 
Edinburgh,  aljout  twenty  years  ago,  used  to  play  at  the  hurly- 
hagket  on  the  Calton-hill,  using  for  their  seat  a  horse's  scull. 

Note  X. 
The  burghers  hold  their  sports  to-day. — St.  XX.  p.  221. 
Every  biuglj  of  Scotland,  of  tlic  least  note,  but  more  espe- 


412  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

dally  the  considerable  towns,  had  their  solemn' play ,'  6if  Testi- 
va\,  when  feats  of  archery  were  exhibited,  and  prizes  distribu- 
ted to  those  who  excelled  in  wrestling,  hurling  the  bar,  and 
the  other  gymnastic  exercises  of  the  period.  Stirh'ng,  a  usual 
place  of  royal  residence,  was  not  likely  to  be  deficient  in  pomp 
upon  such  occasions,  especially  since  James  V.  was  very  par- 
tial to  them.  His  ready  participation  in  these  popular  amuse- 
ments was  one  cause  of  his  acquiring  the  title  of  King  of  the 
Commons,  or  Rex  Pleheiorum,  as  Lcsly  has  latinized  it.  The 
usual  prize  to  the  best  shooter  was  a  silver  arrow.  Such  a 
one  is  preserved  at  Selkirk  and  at  Peebles.  At  Dumfries,  a 
silver  gun  was  substituted,  and  the  contention  transferred  to 
fire-arms.  The  ceremony,  as  there  performed,  is  the  subject 
of  an  excellent  Scottish  poem,  by  Mr  John  Mayne,  entitled 
the  Siller  Gun,  1 808,  which  surpasses  the  efforts  of  Ferguson, 
and  comes  near  those  of  Burns. 

Of  James's  attachment  to  archery,  Pitscottie,  the  faithful, 
though  rude  recorder  of  the  manners  of  that  period,  has  given 
us  evidence : 

"In  this  year  there  came  an  ambassador  out  of  England,  named 
Lord  William  Howard,  with  a  bishop  with  him,  with  many  other 
gentlemen, tothe  number  ofthrecscore  horse,  which  wereall  able 
men  and  waled  (picked)  men  for  all  kinds  of  games  and  pastimes, 
shooting,  louping,  running,  wrestling,  and  casting  of  the  stone, 
but  they  were  well  'sayed  (essayed  or  tried)  ere  they  past  out 
of  Scotland,  and  that  by  their  own  provocation  ;  but  ever  they 
tint :  till  at  last,  the  queen  of  Scotland,  the  king's  mother,  fa- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  413 

voured  the  English-men,  because  she  was  the  king  of  Eng- 
land's sister  ;  and  therefore  she  took  an  enterprise  of  arcfiery 
upon  the  English-mens  hands,  contrary  her  son  the  king,  and 
any  six  in  Scotland  that  he  would  wale,  either  gentlemen  or 
yeomen,  that  the  English-men  should  shoot  against  them,  ei- 
ther at  pricks,  revers,  or  buts,  as  the  Scots  pleased- 

"  The  king  hearing  this  of  his  mother,  was  content,  and  gart 
her  pawn  a  hundred  crowns,  and  a  tun  of  wine  upon  the  Eng- 
lish-mens hands ;  and  he  incontinent  laid  down  as  much  for 
the  Scottish-men.  Tlie  field  and  ground  was  chosen  in  St  An- 
drew's, and  three  landed  men  and  three  yeomen  chosen  to 
shoot  against  the  English-men,  to  wit,  David  Wemyss  of  that 
ilk,  David  Arnott  of  that  ilk,  and  Mr  John  Wedderburn,  vicar 
of  Dundee ;  the  yeomen,  Jolm  Thomson,  in  Leith,  Steven 
Taburner,  with  a  piper,  called  Alexander  Bailie ;  they  shot  very 
near,  and  warred  (worsted)  the  English-men  of  the  enterprise, 
and  wan  the  hundred  crowns  and  the  tun  of  wine,  which  made 
the  king  very  merry,  that  his  men  wan  the  victory." — P.  Hf. 


Note*XI. 
■liobin  Hood.— St.  XXII.  p.  224. 


The  exhibition  of  this  renowned  outlaw  and  his  band  was 
a  favourite  frolic  at  such  festivals  as  we  are  describing.  This 
sport,  in  which  kings  did  not  disdain  to  be  actors,  was  prohi- 
bited in  Scotland  upon  the  Reformation,  by  a  statute  of  the  6th 
parliament  of  Queen  Mary,  c.  Gl,  A.  D.  1556^  which  ordered, 
under  heavy  penalties,  that  "  na  manner  of  person  be  ■chosen 


il4  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

Robert  Hude,  nor  little  John,  Abbot  of  Unreason,  (Jueen  of 
May,  nor  otherwise."  But,  in  1561,  "  the  rascal  multitude," 
says  John  Knox,  "  were  stirred  up  to  make  a  Robin  Hude, 
whilk  enormity  was  of  mony  years  left  and  damned  by  statute 
and  act  of  parliament ;  yet  would  they  not  be  forbidden."  Ac- 
cordingly they  raised  a  very  serious  tumult,  and  at  length 
made  prisoners  the  magistrates,  who  endeavoured  to  suppress 
it,  and  would  not  release  them  till  they  extorted  a  formal  pro- 
mise that  no  one  should  be  punished  for  his  share  of  the 
disturbance.  It  would  seem,  from  the  <;omplaints  of  the  Gene- 
ral Assembly  of  the  kirk,  that  these  prophanc  festivities  were 
continued  down  to  15<»2.*  Bold  Robin  was,  to  say  the  least, 
equally  successful  in  maintaining  his  ground  against  the  re- 
formed clergy  of  England ;  for  the  simple  and  evangelical  La- 
timer complains  of  coming  to  a  country  church,  where  the 
people  refused  to  hear  him,  because  it  was  Robin  Hood's  day ; 
and  his  mitre  and  rochet  were  fain  to  give  way  to  the  village 
pastime.  Much  curious  information  on  tiiis  subject  may  be 
found  in  the  Preliminary  Dissertation  to  the  late  Mr  Ritson's 
edition  of  the  songs  respecting  this  memorable  outlaw.  The 
game  of  Robin  Hood  was  usually  acted  in  May ;  and  he  was 
associated  with  the  morricc-dancers,  on  whom  so  much  illus- 
tration has  been  bestowed  by  the  commentators  on  Shake- 
speare. A  verj'  lively  picture  of  these  festivities,  containing 
a  great  deal  of  curious  information  on  the  subject  of  the 
private  life  and  amusements  of  our  ancestors,  vas  thrown 

*  Book  of  (he  Universal  Kirk,  p.  4l4; 


1 

4 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  M5 

by  the  late  ingenious  Mr  Strutt,  into  his  romance  entitled 
Queen-hoo  Hall ;  published  after  his  death,  in  1808. 

Note  XII. 
Indifferent  aS  to  archer  zoight. 
The  Monarch  gave  the  arrow  bright. — St.  XXII.  p.  225. 

The  Douglas  of  the  poem  is  an  imaginary  person,  a  supposed 
uncle  of  the  Earl  of  Angus.  But  the  king's  behaviour  during 
an  unexpected  interview  with  the  Laird  of  Kilspindie,  one  of 
the  banished  Douglasses,  under  circiunstances  similar  to  those 
in  the  text,  is  imitated  from  a  real  story  told  by  Hume  of  Gods- 
eroft.  I  would  have  availed  myself  more  fully  of  the  simple 
and  aiFecting  circumstances  of  the  old  history,  had  they  not 
been  already  woven  into  a  pathetic  ballad  by  my  friend  Mr 
Finlay.  * 

"  His  (the  king's)  implacability  (towards  the  family  of  Doug- 
las)  did  also  appear  in  liis  carriage  towards  Archibald  of  Kil- 
spindy,  whom  he,  when  he  was  a  child,  loved  singularly  well 
for  his  ability  of  body,  and  was  wont  to  call  him  his  Gray- 
Steill.f  Archibald  being  banished  into  England,  could  not 
well  comport  with  the  humour  of  that  nation,  which  he  thought 
to  be  too  proud,  and  that  they  liad  too  high  a  conceit  of 


^  .  *  See  Scottish  Historical  and  Komantic   Ballads.      Glasgow, 
1808,  vol    11.  p   117. 
-^  A  ch.nmpion  of  popular  romance.    Sec  Et<lis's  Rvmcttcei; 
vol.  III. 


11 


41C  NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH. 

themselveSj  joined  with  a  contempt  and  despising  of  all  other3. 
Wherefore,  being  wearied  of  tliat  life,  and  remembering  the 
king's  favour  of  old  towards  him,  he  determined  to  try  the 
king's  mercifulness  and  clemency.  So  he  comes  into  Scot- 
land, and  taking  occasion  of  the  king's  hunting  in  the  park  at 
Stirling,  he  casts  himself  to  be  in  his  way,  as  he  was  coming 
home  to  the  castle.  So  soon  as  the  king  saw  him  afar  oflf^  ere 
he  came  near,  he  guessed  it  was  he,  and  said  to  one  of  his 
courtiers,  yonder  is  my  Gray  Steill,  Archibald  of  Kilspindy,  if 
he  be  alive.  The  other  answered,  that  it  could  not  be  he,  and 
that  he  durst  not  come  into  the  king's  presence.  The  king 
approaching,  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and  craved  pardon,  and 
promised  from  thence  forward  to  abstain  from  meddling  in 
public  affairs,  and  to  lead  a  quiet  ami  private  life.  The  king 
went  by,  witliout  giving  him  any  answer,  and  trotted  a  good 
round  pace  up  the  hill.  Kilspindy  followed,  and,  though  he 
wore  on  him  a  secret,  or  shirt  of  mail,  for  his  particular  ene- 
mies, was  as  soon  at  the  castle-gate  as  the  king.  There  he 
sat  him  down  upoh  a  stone  without,  and  entreated  some  of 
the  king's  servants  for  a  cup  of  drink,  being  weary  and  thir- 
sty ;  but  they,  -fearing  the  king's  displeasure,  durst  give  l)im 
none.  When  the  king  was  set  at  his  dinner,  he  asked  what 
he  had  done,  what  he  had  said,  and  whither  he  had  gone  ?  It 
was  told  him  that  he  had  desired  a  cup  of  drink,  and  had  got- 
ten none.  The  king  reproved  them  very  sharply  for  their  dis- 
courtesy, and  told  them,  that  if  he  had  not  taken  an  oath 
that  no  Douglas  should  ever  serve  him,  he  would  have  receiv- 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  FIFTH.  417 

ed  him  into  his  service,  for  he  had  seen  him  some  time  a  man 
of  great  abihty.  Then  he  sent  him  word  to  go  to  Leith, 
and  expect  his  further  pleasure.  Then  some  kinsman  of 
David  Falconer,  the  canonier,  that  was  slain  at  Tantallon, 
began  to  quarrel  with  Archibald  about  the  matter,  wherewith 
the  king  shewed  himself  not  well  pleased  when  he  heard  of  it. 
Then  he  commanded  him  to  go  to  France  for  a  certain  space, 
till  he  heard  further  from  him.  And  so  he  did,  and  died 
shortly  after.  This  gave  occasion  to  the  king  of  England 
(Henry  VIII.)  to  blame  his  nephew,  alleging  the  old  saying. 
That  a  king's  face  should  give  grace.  For  this  Archibald,  (what- 
soever were  Angus's  or  Sir  George's  fault)  had  not  been  prin- 
cipal actor  of  any  thing,  nor  no  counsellor  or  stirrer  up,  but 
only  a  follower  of  his  friends,  and  that  noways  cruelly  dis- 
posed.*'— Hume  of  Godscroft,  II.  107. 

Note  XIII. 
Prize  ofthetcrestling  match,  the  king 
To  Douglas  gave  a  golden  rivg. — St.  XXIII.  p.  225. 
The  usual  prize  of  a  wrestling  was  a  ram  and  a  ring,  but  the 
animal  would  have  embarrassed  my  story.    Thus  in  the  Cokes 
Tale  of  Garaelyn,  ascribed  to  Chaucer : 


There  happed  (o  be  there  beside 

TryicJ  a  wrastiling, 
And  therefore  tliere  was  j-sctten 

A  ram  and  als  a  ring. 


418  NOTES  TO  CANTO  1-IFTH. 

Again  the  litil  geste  of  Robin  Hood  : 

By  a  bridge  was  a  wrastjing, 


1 


And  there  tarjed  was  he, 
And  there  was  all  the  best  yeueD 

Of  all  the  west  conntrey, 
A  full  fayre  game  there  was  set  up, 

A  white  bull  upy-pight, 
A  great  courser  with  sadlc  and  brydle, 

With  gold  burnished  full  bryght ; 
A  payre  of  gloves,  a  red  gold  ringe, 

A  pipe  of  wyne  good  fay  ; 
What  man  bereth  him  best  I  wis, 

The  prise  shall  bear  away. 

RiTsow's  Robin  Hood,  yoU  I. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 


Note  I. 

These  drew  not  for  their  fields  the  sword. 

Like  tenants  of  a  feudal  lord. 

Nor  ozon^d  the  patriarchal  claim 

Of  chieftain  in  their  leader's  name  ; 

Adventurers  they. St.  III.  p.  245. 

The  Scottish  armies  consisted  chiefly  of  the  nobih'ty  and  ba- 
rons, with  their  vassals,  who  held  lands  under  them,  for  mili- 
tary service  by  themselves  and  their  tenants.  The  patriarchal 
influence  exercised  by  the  heads  of  clans  in  the  Highlands  and 
Borders  was  of  a  diflerent  oature,  and  sometimes  at  variance 
with  feudal  principles.  It  flowed  from  the  Palria  Potestas, 
exercised  by  the  chieftain  as  representing  the  original  father 
of  the  whole  name,  and  was  often  obeyed  in  contradiction  to 
tlie  feudal  superior.  James  V.  seems  first  to  have  introdu- 
ced, in  addition  to  the  militia  furnished  from  these  sources, 

the  service  of  a  small  number  of  mercenaries,  who  formed  a 

2  E 


420  NOTES  JO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

body-guanl,  called  the  Foot-Band.  The  satirical  poet,  Sir  Da- 
vid Lindsay,  (or  the  person  who  wrote  the  prologue  to  his  play 
of  the  '*  Three  Estaites,")  has  introduced  Finlay  of  the  Foot- 
Band,  who,  after  much  swaggering  upon  the  stage,  is  at  length 
put  to  flight  by  the  fool,  who  terrifies  him  by  means  of  a  sheep's 
skull  upon  a  pole.  I  have  rather  chosen  to  give  them  the  harsh 
features  of  the  mercenary  soldiers  of  the  period,  than  of  this 
Scottish  Thraso.  These  partook  of  the  character  of  the  Ad- 
venturous Companions  of  Froissart,  or  the  Condottieri  o£ 
Italy. 

One  of  the  best  and  liveliest  traits  of  such  manners  is  the 
last  will  of  a  leader,  called  GefFroy  Tete  Noir,  who  having 
been  slightly  wounded  in  a  skirmish,  his  intemperance  brought 
on  a  mortal  disease.  When  he  found  himself  dying,  he  sum- 
moned to  his  bed-side  the  adventurers  whom  he  commanded, 
and  thus  addressed  them : 

*'  Fayre  sirs,  quod  Geffray,  I  knowe  well  ye  have  alwayes 
served  and  honoured  me  as  men  ought  to  serve  their  sove- 
raygne  and  capitayne,  and  I  shal  be  the  gladder  if  ye  will  agre 
to  have  to  your  capitayne  one  that  is  descended  of  my  blode. 
Behold  here  Aleyne  Roux,  my  cosyn,  and  Peter  his  brother, 
who  are  men  of  armes  and  of  my  blodc.  I  require  you  to  make 
Aleyne  your  capitayne,  and  to  swere  to  him  faythe,  obey- 
saunce,  love,  and  loyalte,  here  in  my  presence,  and  also  to  his 
brother :  howe  be  it,  I  wyll  that  Aleyne  have  the  soverayne 
charge.  Sir,  quod  they,  we  are  well  content,  for  ye  bauve 
ryght  well  chosen.    There  all  the  companyons  made  thej-ni 


XOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  421 

servyant  to  Aleyne  Roiix  and  to  Peter  Lis  brother.     Wlian  all 
that  was  done,  then  GefFraye  spake  agayne,  and  sayd :  Nowe, 
sirs,  ye  hauve  obeyed  to  my  pleasure,  I  caone  you  great  thanke ; 
wlierefore,  sirs,  I  wyll  ye  have  parte  of  that  ye  have  holpen  to 
conquere.  I  say  unto  you,  that  in  yonder  chest  that  ye  se  stande 
yonder,  therin  is  to  the  some  of  xxx  thousaude  frankes, — I 
wyll  give  them  accordynge  to  my  conscyence.     Wyll  ye  all  be 
content  to  fulfil  my  testament  j  how  saye  ye  ?  Sir,  quod  they, 
we  be  ryght  well  contente  to  fulfyl  your  commaundement. 
Thane  firste,  quod  he,  I  wyll  and  give  to  the  chapell  of  Saynt 
George,  here  in  this  castell,  for  the  reparacions  therof,  a  thou- 
sand and  five  hundrede  franks  :  and  I  give  to  my  lover,  who 
hath  truly  served  me,  two  thousand  and  five  hundrede  frankes : 
and  also  I  give  to  Aleyne  Ronx,  your  newe  capitayne,  foure 
thousande  frankes :    also  to  the  varieties   of  my  chambre  I 
gyve  fyve  hundrede  frankes.     To  mine  offj'cers  I  gyve  a  thou- 
sand and  five  hundred  frankes.     The  rest  I  gyve  and  bequeth 
as  I  shall  shew  you.    Ye  be  upon  a  thyrtie  companyons  all 
of  one  sorte :  ye  ought  to  be  bretherne,  and  all  of  one  aly- 
aunce,    without  debate,   ryotte,  or   stryfc  among  you.      All 
this  that  I  have  shewed  you  ye  shall  f}  ndc  in  yonder  cheste. 
I  wyll  that  ye  departe  all  the  resydue  equally  and  truelly  bi- 
twene  you  thyrtie.     And  if  ye  be  nat  thus  contente,  but  that 
the  devylle  wyll  set  debate  bytwene  you,  than  bcholdc  j  onda- 
is  a  strong  axe,  breke  up  the  coffer,  and  gette  it  who  can.    To 
those  words  every  man  ansuered  and  said.  Sir,  and  derc  raais- 
ter,  we  are  and  shall  be  all  of  one  accorde.     Sir,  we  have  so 


422  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

moche  loved  and  doiited  you,  that  we  will  breke  no  cofFer, 
nor  breke  no  poynt  of  that  ye  have  ordayned  and  commanded." 
—Lord  Berner's  Frvissart. 

Note  II. 

Thou  now  hast  glee-maiden  and  harp; 

Get  thee  an  ape,  and  trudge  the  landy 

The  leader  of  a  juggler  band. — St.  VI.  p.  250.  -^ 

The  jongleurs,  or  jugglers,  as  we  learn  from  the  elaborate 
work  of  the  late  Mr  Strutt,  on  the  sports  and  pastimes  of  the 
people  of  England,  used  to  call  in  the  aid  of  various  assistants, 
to  render  these  performances  as  captivating  as  possible.  The 
glee-maiden  was  a  necessary  attendant.  Her  duty  was  tum- 
bling and  dancing ;  and  therefore  the  Anglo-Saxon  version  of 
Saint  Mark's  Gospel  states  Herodias  to  have  vaulted  or  tum- 
bled before  King  Herod.  In  Scotland,  these  poor  creatures 
seem,  even  at  a  late  period,  to  have  been  bonds-women  to  their 
masters,  as  appears  from  a  case  reported  by  Fountainhall. 
*'  Reid  the  mountebank  pursues  Scot  of  Harden  and  his  lady, 
for  stealing  away  from  him  a  little  girl,  called  the  tumbling- 
lassie,  that  danced  upon  his  stage :  and  he  claimed  damages, 
and  produced  a  contract,  whereby  he  bought  her  from  her  mo- 
ther, for  30/.  Scots.  But  we  have  no  slaves  in  Scotland,  and 
mothers  cannot  sell  their  bairns  ;  and  physicians  attested,  the 
employment  of  tumbling  would  kill  her;  and  her  joints  were 
now  grown  stifl^  and  she  declined  to  return ;  though  she  was 
at  least  a  'prentice,  and  so  could  not  run  away  from  her  master : 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  423 

yet  some  cited  Moses's  Jaw,  that  if  a  servant  shelter  himself 
with  thee,  against  his  master's  cruelty,  thou  shalt  surely  not 
deliver  him  up.  The  lords,  renitente  cancellario,  assoilzied 
Harden,  on  the  27th  of  January,  (1687.)"— Fountainhall's 
Decisions,  vol.  I.  p  439.* 

The  facetious  qualities  of  the  ape  soon  rendered  him  an  ac- 
ceptable addition  to  the  strolling  band  of  the  jongleur.  Ben 
Jonson,  in  his  splenetic  introduction  to  the  comedy  of  "  Bar- 
tholomew Fair,"  is  at  pains  to  inform  the  audience  '*  that  he 
has  ne'er  a  sword  and  buckler  man  in  his  fair,  nor  a  juggler, 
with  a  well-educated  ape,  to  come  over  the  chaine  for  the  king 
of  England,  and  back  again  for  the  prince,  and  sit  still  on  his 
haunches  for  the  pope  and  the  king  of  Spaine." 

Note  III. 
That  stirring  air  wkich  peals  on  high, 
O^er  Dermid's  race  our  victory. 

Strike  it. St.  XIV.  p.  262. 

There  are  several  instances,  at  least  in  tradition,  of  persons 


♦  Thoujch  less  to  my  purpose,  1  cannot  help  noticing  a  circum- 
stance respecting  another  of  this  Vir  Ileids  aticndants,  which  oc- 
curred during  James  II  s  zeal  for  catholic  prosely  tisni,  and  is 
told  by  Fountaiuhall,  with  dry  Scottish  irony.  "  January  7th, 
1687  — Heid  the  niouutcbank  is  receivetl  into  the  popish  church, 
and  one  of  his  hlackamores  was  persuad'  d  to  accept  of  baptism 
from  the  popish  priests,  and  to  turn  Christian  papist ;  which  was 
a  great  trophy  :  he  was  called  James,  after  the  king  and  chan- 
ccll»r,  and  the  apostle  James," — Ibid,  p.  410. 


424  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

^  much  attached  to  particular  tunes,  as  to  require  to  hear 
them  on  their  death-betl.  Such  an  anecdote  is  mentioned  by 
the  late  Mr  Riddel  of  Glenriddel,  in  his  collection  of  Border 
tunes,  respecting  an  air  called  the  "  Dandling  of  the  Bairns," 
for  which  a  certain  Gallovidian  laird  is  said  to  have  evinced 
this  strong  mark  of  partiality.  It  is  popularly  told  of  a  famous 
freebooter,  that  he  composed  the  tune  known  by  the  name  of 
Macpherson's  Rant  while  under  sentence  of  death,  and  played 
it  at  the  gallows-tree.  Some  spirited  words  have  been  adapt< 
cd  to  it  by  Burns.  A  similar  story  is  recounted  of  a  Welch 
bard,  who  composed  and  played  on  his  death-bed  the  air  call- 
ed Daftjddy  Gar r egg  Wen. 

But  the  most  curious  example  is  given  by  Brantome,  of  a 
maid  of  honour  at  the  court  of  France,  entitled,  Mademoiselle 
de  Limeuil.  "  Durant  sa  maladie,  dont  e  le  trespassa,  jamais 
elle  ne  cessa,  ains  causa  tousjours ;  car  elle  estoit  fort  grande 
parleuse,  brocardcuse,  et  tr^s-bien  et  fort  a  propos,  et  trfes-belle 
avec  cela.  Quand  I'heure  de  sa  fin  fut  venue,  elle  fit  venir  a 
soy  son  valet,  (ainsi  que  le  fiUes  de  la  cour  en  ont  chacune  un) 
qui  s'appelloit  Julien,    et  scavoit  trcs-bien  joiier  du  violon. 

*  Julien,  luy  dit  elle,  prenez  vostre  violon  et  sonnez  moy  tous- 
jours jusques  a  ce  que  me  voyez  morte  (car  je  m'y  en  vais,)  la 
d(;faite  des  Suisses,  et  le  mieux  que  vous  pourrez,  et  quand  vous 
serez  sur  le  mot :  '  Tout  est  perdu,'  sonnez  le  par  quatre  ou 
cing  fois,  Je  plus  piteusement  que  vous  pourrez ,'  ce  qui  fit 
I'autre,  et  elle-mesme  luy  aidoit  de  la  voix,  et  quand  ce  vint 

*  tout  est  perdu,'  elle  le  r^itera  par  deux  fois;  et  sc  tournant 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  425 

de  I'autre  coste  dii  chevet,  ellc  dit  a  ses  compagnes :  '  Tout 
est  perdu  a  ce  coup,  et  a  bon  escient ;'  et  ainsi  deceda.  Voila 
une  morte  joyeuse  et  plaisante.  Je  tiens  ce  conte  de  deux  de 
ses  compagnes,  dignes  de  foi,  qui  virent  joiier  ce  raystere." — 
Oeuvres  de  Brunlume,  III.  507. 

The  tune  to  wliich  this  fair  lady  chose  to  make  her  final  exit 
was  composed  on  the  defeat  of  the  Swiss  at  Marignano.  Tlie 
burden  is  quoted  by  Panurge,  in  Rabelais,  amlconsistsof  tliese 
words,  imitating  the  jargon  of  the  Swiss,  which  is  a  mixture  of 
French  and  German  : 

Tout  est  verlorc 
La  Tintelore, 
Tout  est  verlore  bi  Got! 

Note  IV. 
Battle  of  BeaV  an  Duiiie, — St.  XV.  p.  863. 

A  skirmish  actually  took  place  at  a  pass  thus  called  in  the 
Trosachs,  and  closed  with  the  remarkable  incident  mentioned 
in  the  text.  It  was  greatly  posterior  in  date  to  the  reign  of 
James  V. 

"  In  this  roughly- wooded  island,*  the  country  people  se- 
creted their  wives  and  children,  and  thdr  most  valuable  effects, 
from  the  rapacity  of  Cromwell's  soldiers,  during  tlieirinroad  into 
this  country,  in  the  time  of  the  republic.     These  invaders,  not 


*  That  Qt  the  eastern  extremity  of  Loch  Katrine,  so  often  men- 
t4oucd  in  the  text. 


426  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

venturing  to  ascend  by  the  ladders,  along  the  side  of  the  lake, 
took  a  more  circuitous  road,  through  the  heart  of  the  Trosachs, 
the  most  frequented  path  at  that  time,  which  penetrates  the 
wilderness  about  half  way  between  Binean  and  the  lake,  by  a 
tract  called  Yea-chilleach,  or  the  Old  Wife's  Bog. 

"  In  one  of  the  defiles  of  this  by-road,  the  men  of  the  coun- 
try at  that  time  hung  upon  the  rear  of  the  invading  enemy,  and 
shot  one  of  Cromwell's  men,  whose  grave  marks  the  scene  of 
action,  and  gives  name  to  that  pass.*  In  revenge  of  this  insult, 
the  soldiers  resolved  to  plunder  the  island,  to  violate  the  wo- 
men, and  put  the  children  to  death.  With  this  brutal  inten- 
tion, one  of  the  party,  more  expert  than  the  rest,  swam  to- 
wards the  island,  to  fetch  the  boat  to  his  comrades,  which  had 
carried  the  women  to  their  asylum,  and  lay  moored  in  one  of 
the  creeks.  His  companions  stood  on  the  shore  of  the  main 
land,  in  full  view  of  all  that  was  to  pass,  waiting  anxiously  for 
his  return  with  the  boat.  But,  just  as  the  swimmer  had  got  to 
the  nearest  point  of  the  island,  and  was  laying  hold  of  a  black 
rock,  to  get  on  shore,  a  heroine,  who  stood  on  the  very  point 
where  he  meant  to  land,  hastily  snatching  a  dagger  from  below 
her  apron,  with  one  stroke  severed  his  head  from  the  body. 
His  party  seeing  this  disaster,  and  relinquishing  all  future  hope 
of  revenge  or  conquest,  made  the  best  of  their  way  out  of  their 
perilous  situation.  This  aniazon's  great-grandson  lives  at  Bridge 
of  Turk,  wIm),  besides  others,  attests  the  anecdote." — Sketch 

*  Beallach  an  duine. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  42r 

of  the  Scenery  near  Cullender.  Stirling,  1806,  p.  20.  I  have 
only  to  add  to  this  account,  that  the  heroine's  name  was  He- 
len Stuart. 

Note  V. 
And  SnozodornVs  knight  is  Scotland's  ki^g — St.  XXVI.  p.  283. 

This  discovery  will  probably  renn'nd  the  reader  of  the  beau* 
tiful  Arabian  tale  of  II  Bundocani.  Yet  the  incident  is  twt 
borrowed  from  that  elegant  story,  but  from  Scottish  tradition. 
James  V.,  of  whom  we  are  treating,  was  a  monarch  whose 
good  and  benevolent  intentions  often  'tendered  his  romantic 
freaks  venial,  if  not  respectable,  since,  from  his  anxious  at- 
tention to  the  interests  of  the  lower  and  most  oppressed  class 
of  his  subjects,  he  was,  as  we  have  seen,  popularly  termed  the 
King  <^the  Commons.  For  the  purpose  of  seeing  that  justice 
was  regularly  administered,  and  frequently  fvom  the  less  justi- 
fiable motive  of  gallantry,  he  used  to  traverse  the  vicinage  of 
his  several  {ralaces  in  various  disguises.  The  two  excellent 
conic  songs, entitled  "The  Gaberlunzie  Man,"  and  **  We'll  gae 
nae  mair  a  roving,"  are  said  to  have  been  founded  upon  the 
success  of  his  amorous  adventures  when  travelling  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  beggar.  The  latter  is  perhaps  the  best  comic  ballad 
in  any  language. 

Another  adventure,  which  had  nearly  cost  James  his  life,  is 
said  to  have  taken  place  at  the  village  of  Cramond,  near  Edin- 
burgh, where  he  had  rendered  his  addresses  acceptable  to  a 
pretty  jirl  ©f  the  lower  rank.    Four  or  five  persons,  whether 


428  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

relations  or  lovers  of  his  mistress  is  uncertain,  beset  the  dis- 
guised monarch,  as  he  returned  from  his  rendezvous.  Natu- 
rally gallant,  and  an  admirable  master  of  his  weapon,  the  king 
took  post  on  the  high  and  narrow  bridge  over  the  Almond 
river,  and  defended  himself  bravely  with  his  sword.  A  pea- 
sant, who  was  threshing  in  a  neighbouring  barn,  came  out  upon 
the  noise,  and,  whether  moved  by  compassion  or  by  natural  gal- 
lantry, took  the  weaker  side,  and  laid  about  with  his  flail  so 
effectually,  as  to  disperse  the  assailants,  well  threshed,  even 
according  to  the  letter.  He  then  conducted  the  king  into  his 
barn,  where  his  guest  requested  a  bason  and  towel,  to  remove 
the  stahas  of  the  broil.  This  being  procured  with  difficulty, 
James  employed  himself  in  learning  what  was  the  summit  of 
his  deliverer's  earthly  wishes,  and  found  that  they  were  bound- 
ed by  the  desire  of  possessing,  in  property,  the  farm  of  Brae- 
bead,  upon  whicli  he  laboured  as  a  bondsman.  The  lands 
clianced  to  belong  to  the  crown ;  and  James  directed  him  to 
come  to  the  palace  of  Holj'-Rood,  and  enquire  for  the  Guid- 
man  (i.  e.  farmer)  of  Ballangiech,  ;i  name  by  which  he  was  known 
in  his  excursions,  and  which  answered  to  //  Bondocani  of  Ha- 
roun  Alraschid.  He  presented  himself  accordingly,  and  found, 
with  due  astonishment,  that  he  had  saved  his  monarch's  life, 
and  that  he  was  to  be  gratified  with  a  crown-charter  of  the 
lands  of  Braehead,  under  the  service  of  presenting  an  ewer, 
bason,  and  towel,  for  the  king  to  wash  his  hands,  when  he 
shall  happen  to  pass  the  Bridge  of  Cramond.  This  person  was 
ancestor  of  the  Howisons  of  Braehead,  in  Mid  Lothian,  a  re- 


t 


I 

r 

I 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  42# 

spectabie  family,  who  continue  to  hold  the  lands  (now  passed 
into  the  female  line)  under  the  same  tenure. 

Another  of  James's  frolics  is  thus  narrated  by  Mr  Campbell, 
from  the  Statistical  Account.     "  Being  once  benighted  when 
out  a  hunting,  and  separated  from  his  attendants,  he  happened 
to  enter  a  cottage  in  the  midst  of  a  moor,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Ochil  hills,  near  Alloa,  where,  unknown,  he  was  kindly  re- 
ceived.   In  order  to  regale  their  unexpected  guest,  the  gude- 
many  (t.  c.  landlord,  farmer,)  desired  the  gude-wife  to  fetch  the 
hen  that  roosted  nearest  the  cock,  which  is  always  the  plump- 
est, for  the  stranger's  supper.     The  king,  highly  pleased  with 
his  night's  lodging  and  hospitable  entertainment,  told  mine 
host,  at  parting,  that  he  should  be  glad  to  return  his  civility, 
and  requested  that  the  first  time  he  came  to  Stirling  he  would 
call  at  the  castle,  and  enquire  for  the  gude-man  of  Ballinguicli. 
Donaldson,  the  landlord,  did  not  fail  to  call  on  the  gude-man 
of  Ballinguick,  when  his  astonishment  at  finding  that  the  king 
had  been  his  guest  afforded  no  small  amusement  to  the  merry 
monarch  and  his  courtiers ;  and,  to  carry  on  the  pleasantry,  he 
was  thenceforth  designated  by  James  with  the  title  of  King  of 
the  Moors,  which  name  and  designation  have  descended  from 
father  to  son  ever  since,  and  they  have  continued  in  possession 
of  the  Identical  s^pot,  the  property  of  Mr  Erskine  of  Mar,  till 
very  lately,  when  this  gentleman,  with  reluctance,  turned  out 
the  descendant  and  representative  of  the  King  of  the  Moors, 
on  account  of  his  majesty's  invincible  indolence,  and  great 
dislike  to  reform  or  innovation  of  any  kind,  ultlvough,  from 


i 


430  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 

the  spirited  example  of  his  neighbour  tenants  on  the  same  es- 
tate, he  is  convinced  similar  exertion  would  promote  his  ad-, 
vantage." 

The  author  requests  permission  yet  farther  to  verify  the  sub- 
ject of  his  poem,  by  an  extract  from  the  genealogical  work  of 
Buchanan  of  Auchmar,  upon  Scottish  surnames. 

"  This  John  Buchanan  of  Auchmar  and  Arnpryor  was  after- 
wards termed  King  of  Kippen,  *  upon  the  following  Account. 
King  James  V.,  a  very  sociable,  debonair  prince,  residing  at 
Stirling,  in  Buchanan  of  Arnpryor's  time,  carriers  were  very 
frequently  passing  along  the  common  road,  being  near  Arn- 
pryor's house,  with  necessaries  for  the  use  of  the  king's  family, 
and  he  having  some  extraordinary  occasion,  ordered  one  of 
these  carriers  to  1ea\  e  his  load  at  his  house,  and  he  would  pay 
him  for  it ;  which  the  carrier  refused  to  do,  telling  him  he  was 
the  king's  carrier,  and  his  load  for  his  majesty's  use ;  to  which 
Arnpryor  seemed  to  have  small  regard,  compelling  the  carrier, 
in  the  end,  to  leave  his  load  ;  telling  him,  if  King  James  was 
king  of  Scotland,  he  was  king  of  Kippen,  so  that  it  was  rea- 
sonable he  should  share  with  his  neighbour  king  in  some  of 
these  loads,  so  frequently  carried  tliat  road.  The  carrier  re- 
presenting this  usage,  and  telling  the  story,  as  Arnpryor  spoke 
it,  to  some  of  the  king's  servants,  it  came  at  length  to  his  ma- 
jesty's ears,  who,  shortly  thereafter,  with  a  few  attendants, 
came  to  visit  his  neighbour  king,  who  was  in  the  mean  time  at 

*  A  small  district  of  Perthshire. 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH.  431 

dinner.  King  James  having  sent  a  servant  to  demand  access, 
was  denied  the  same  by  a  tall  fellow  with  a  battle-axe,  who 
stood  porter  at  the  gate,  telling,  there  could  be  no  access  till 
dinner  was  over.  This  answer  not  satisfying  the  king,  he  sent 
to  demand  access  a  second  time  ;  upon  which  he  was  desired 
by  the  porter  to  desist,  otherwise  he  would  find  cause  to  re- 
pent his  rudeness.  His  majesty  finding  this  method  would  not 
do,  desired  the  porter  to  tell  his  master  that  the  good-man  of 
Ballageigh  desired  to  speak  with  the  king  of  Kippen.  The 
porter  telling  Arnpryor  so  much,  lie,  in  all  humble  manner, 
came  and  received  the  king,  and  having  entertained  him  with 
much  sumptuousness  and  jollity,  became  so  agreeable  to  King 
James,  that  he  allowed  him  to  take  so  much  of  any  provision 
he  found  carrying  that  road  as  he  had  occasion  for ;  and,  seeing 
he  made  the  first  visit,  desired  Arnpryor  in  a  few  days  to  re- 
turn him  a  second  to  Stirling,  which  he  performed,  and  conti- 
nued in  very  much  favour  with  the  king,  always  thereafter  be- 
ing termed  King  of  Kippen  while  he  lived." — Buchanan's 
Misay  upon  the  Family  of  Buchanan.  £din.  1775,  8vo.  p.  74. 
The  readers  of  Ariosto  must  give  credit  for  the  amiable  fea- 
tures with  which  he  is  represented,  since  he  is  generally  con- 
sidered as  the  prototype  of  Zerbino,  the  most  interesting  hero 
of  the  Orlando  Furioso. 


432  NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH. 


Note  VI. 
Stirling's  Tower 


Of  yore  the  name  of  Snowdoun  claims. — St.  XXVIII.  p.  286. 

William  of  Worcester,  who  wrote  about  the  middle  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  calls  Stirling  Castle  Snowdoun.  Sir  David 
Lindsay  bestows  the  same  epithet  upon  it  in  his  complaint  of 
the  Papingo : 

Adieu,  fair  Snawdoun,  wiili  thv  towers  Iiigh, 
Thy  chaple- royal,  park,  and  (able  round  : 
May,  June,  and  July,  would  1  dwell  in  thee. 
Were  f  a  man,  to  hear  the  birdis  souud, 
Wbilk  doth  agane  thy  royal  rock  rebountf. 

Mr  Chalmei's,  in  his  late  excellent  edition  of  Sir  David 
Lindsay's  works,  has  refuted  the  chimerical  derivation  of  Snaw- 
doun from  snedding,  or  cutting.  It  was  probably  derived  from 
the  romantic  legend  which  connected  Stirling  with  King  Ar- 
thur, to  which  the  mention  of  the  Round  Table  gives  counte- 
nance. The  ring  within  which  justs  were  formerly  practised, 
in  the  castle  park,  is  still  called  the  Round  Table.  Snawdoun 
is  the  official  title  of  one  of  the  Scottish  heralds,  whose  epi- 
thets seem  in  all  countries  to  have  been  fantastically  adopted 
from  ancient  history  or  romance. 

It  appears  from  the  preceding  note,  that  the  real  name  by 
which  James  was  actually  distinguished  in  his  private  excur- 
sions, was  the  Goodman  of  Ballenguich ;  derived  from  a  steep 
pass  leading  up  to  the  Castle  of  Stirling,  so  called.     But  the 


NOTES  TO  CANTO  SIXTH,  433 

epithet  would  not  have  suited  poetry,  and  would  besides  at 
once,  and  prematurely,  have  announced  the  plot  to  many  of 
my  countrymen,  among  whom  the  traditional  stories  above 
mentioned  are  still  cuiTent. 


FINIS. 


The  Author  has  to  apologize  for  the  inadvertent  appropriation 
of  a  whole  line  from  the  tragedy  of  Douglas, 

*'  I  hold  the  first  who  stiikes,  my  foe.** 


Edinbuiigu  : 
Printed  by  Jas.  Ballantyne  &  Co, 


4 


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