This cold-blooded murder, made all the more heinous by the circumstances in which it was perpetrated, was amply revenged. Lord Maxwell was apprehended, and put in ward in the Castle of Edinburgh. He contrived, however, to escape, and went abroad, where he remained for four years. He returned to the Borders, but finding that his crimewas remembered against him, had instantly to prepare for embarkation to Sweden. Unfortunately for himself, he was persuaded by his kinsman, the Earl of Caithness, to abandon this project. He was lured to Castle Sinclair, where he was promised shelter and secrecy. He was not long there before he was betrayed by his friend, taken prisoner, and brought to Edinburgh and beheaded. “It may be gratifying to know that the Earl of Caithness obtained no reward for his traitorous conduct; but, on the contrary, his treachery served as a source of constant reproach to him and his family.”[57]
“Thus was finally ended, by a salutary example of severity, ‘the foul debate’ betwixt the Maxwells and the Johnstones, in course of which each family lost two chieftains; one by dying of a broken heart, one in the field of battle, one by assassination, and one by the sword of the executioner.”[58]
The history of the Borders unfortunately affords too many examples of the deplorable consequences arising from the prevalency and frequency of such feuds. Many were compelled to live in constant terror of the dagger of the assassin, never knowing the moment when they might be stricken down by an unseen hand. At the same time it may be remarked that those who were guilty of the crime of murderfound it a matter of extreme difficulty to escape punishment. The “avenger of blood” was ever on the track, and though for a time, by means of various disguises, the culprit might elude pursuit, he had sooner or later to pay the penalty of his misdeeds.
In the year 1511 Sir Robert Ker of Cessford was slain at a Border meeting by three Englishmen—Heron, Starhead, and Lillburn. The English monarch delivered up Lillburn to justice, but the other two made good their escape. Starhead fled for refuge to the very centre of England, and there lived in secrecy and upon his guard. Two dependants of the murdered warden were deputed by Andrew Ker of Cessford to revenge his father’s death. They travelled through England in various disguises till they discovered the place of Starhead’s retreat, murdered him in his bed, and brought his head to their master, by whom, in memorial of their vengeance, it was exposed on the cross of Edinburgh. Heron would have shared the same fate had he not spread abroad a report of his having died of the plague, and caused his funeral obsequies to be performed.
Various expedients were resorted to in order to terminate the feuds which prevailed. A common method was to get the Chiefs and Chieftains of the opposing clans to subscribe what were called “bonds of assurance.” There can be no doubt that this might often have proved a most effective measure, had theparties concerned only been willing to let bygones be bygones. But it was found that the old sores were not easily healed. Despite the utmost precautions, animosities which had been suppressed for a time—kept as it were in abeyance—would assert themselves in a most unexpected manner, and with redoubled force, and create a still more distracting condition of affairs.
Prior to the Reformation, feuds were sometimes terminated by an appeal to the religious sensibilities of the persons more immediately concerned. They were induced to make pilgrimages to noted shrines—the shrine of St. Ninian being a favourite resort—where, under the influence of religious thoughts and feelings, they might be induced to take a more kindly view of those with whom they were at feud, and make some reparation for the injury they had inflicted. How far this method succeeded it is difficult to determine, but the likelihood is that it was quite as effective as any other.
Among the Chiefs, or clans, feuds were sometimes brought to an end by a contract of marriage between a leading gentleman of one clan and a daughter of the principal house of the other. This was the plan adopted by the Scotts and Kers, and which, after some vexatious delays, proved entirely successful.
But if it was found that none of the above methods of terminating the feud could be conveniently applied,then resort was had, as has already been hinted, to still simpler means. An atonement was made by the payment of a sum of money called “assythment,” which was sometimes found sufficient to restore good feeling, and bring together in a spirit of amity families that had been at feud with each other.
But these and other means of putting an end to the feud proved, perhaps, in the majority of cases, of little or no avail. The parties concerned preferred, generally, to fight it out to the bitter end, utterly indifferent to consequences.
The intermittent and ineffective manner in which the law was generally administered on the Borders was the occasion, if not the cause, of much of the turbulence and lawlessness which prevailed. The Border thieves were now and then placed under the most rigid surveillance, and their misdeeds visited with condign punishment; but for the most part they were left to work out their own sweet will, none daring to make them afraid.
This method of treatment could not be expected to produce beneficial results. It had exactly the opposite effect. Respect for the law was completely destroyed. Those who were called upon, as the phrase goes, “to underlie the law,” had no sense of shame when their wrongdoing was brought home to them. They no doubt felt the inconvenience of being punished, by fine or imprisonment, for their misdeeds; but there was no moral stigma attaching to imprisonment, or toalmost any other form of punishment. That a man’s father had been hanged for cattle-stealing, or for the slaughter of those who had dared to resist him when he went on a foraging expedition, might engender a feeling of resentment, but it was not in the least likely to create a feeling of shame. Such incidents as these were regarded with philosophical indifference. We remember once hearing a distinguished Borderer remark that the ancient history of nearly all the great Border families had been faithfully chronicled in “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials!” A careful study of that interesting and valuable compilation will go far to corroborate the remark. The “Family Tree” is a phrase which has an altogether peculiar significance on the Borders. It suggests ideas and reflections which are not usually associated with genealogy.
But when all has been said on this phase of the question which either envy or malice can suggest, every sympathetic and well-informed student of Border history will readily admit that the Borderers, bad as they were, were really more sinned against than sinning. Carlyle has somewhere remarked that a man’s firstrightis to be well governed. It is, perhaps, unusual to regard our rights from this point of view, yet there can be no doubt that good government is an essential requisite of society, and one of the greatest blessings of the individual life. This boon was one which, for many generations, the Borderers did not enjoy.They were encouraged to commit crime one day, and punished for it the next. This is doubtless a strong assertion, but we think it is one that can be amply proved. It was the policy of James VI., for example, to keep on the best possible terms with Queen Elizabeth, in order not to endanger his chance of succession, and consequently he was naturally anxious to keep his turbulent subjects on the Borders as well in hand as possible. But that he secretly sympathised with them, and encouraged them in their predatory incursions on the English Border, hardly admits of serious doubt. Sir John Foster, writing in 1586, says: “The King doth write to the Laird of Cessford to do justice, and yet in the meantime he appointeth others to ride and break the Border, and doth wink thereat.”[59]We find Hunsdon writing in the same strain. “I am at this present credibly advertised,” he says, “from one of good intelligence that what fair weather soever the King makes, he means no good towards her Majesty, nor her subjects, and that at this present, there is some practice in hand, whatsoever it is—and he doth assure me that those of Liddesdale, Ewesdale, Eskdale, and Annandale, being 400 horse that came to Hawden brigges where they took away the goods and burnt 4 houses, was not without the King’s knowledge, but not meant to be done in thatplace.”[60]In another communication, in which he alludes to the coming of the King to the Borders with a large army, ostensibly to punish the thieves, he remarks, that he thought it very strange that the King should come with so great a company for the suppressing of a few thieves, when there was not one of them, either in Liddesdale or Teviotdale, that he might not have had brought to him, had he so wished it. He hints that these great outrages would never have been attempted without the King’s “privitie”—“for it was given forth,” he says, “that the Earl Bothwell’s riding to Branksome and Hawick, where he holds as many of Liddesdale before him as it pleased him to send for, that it was to cause them of Liddesdale to be answerable to justice to England for such outrages as they had sundry times committed; but the sequel did manifest the cause of his going thither. For presently after, his said son-in-law, the Laird of Buccleuch, made a ‘roade’ with 300 horse into the West March at two of the clock in the after-noon, with a trumpet and gydon, and spoiled the country about Bewcastle in warlike manner till sun-set. The trumpet was my Lord Bothwell’s, and the goods was carried to Armitage at my Lord Bothwell’s officers’ commandment. So as I have just cause to think that this ‘roade’ was done by my Lord Bothwell’s appointment,and I am sure he durst not have done it without the King’s privity, I will not say commandment.”[61]
These are only a few of many illustrations of a similar kind which may be found scattered through the pages of the “State Papers,” and while we must be careful not to accept such statements as in every instance worthy of absolute credence, yet the circumstances would seem to warrant our regarding them, in many cases at least, as well founded. When the King and his lieutenants thus secretly connived at, and encouraged, the depredations of the reivers, we need hardly wonder that they engaged in the work of plundering with an almost total absence of compunction.
Had the sphere of their operations been always strictly confined to the English Border, the likelihood is that neither King, nor Regent, would have sought to “daunton” them. But there were times when it was difficult for the Scottish reivers to earn a decent livelihood by harassing and spoiling “the auld enemy,” owing to the watchfulness and strength of those dwelling within the opposite Marches; and as there was a danger of their talents becoming feeble through disuse, they naturally turned their attention to their own more wealthy neighbours and friends. That there is “honour among thieves” is a proposition that is sometimes calledin question; but we find that the spirit of a really helpful friendship occasionally manifested itself in curious ways. When a family, or clan, contemplated a raid upon a neighbour’s property, it was customary to secure the assistance of the thieves on the opposite Border. In “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials” there are numerous allusions to the prosecutions of famous Scottish reivers for the inbringing of Englishmen to assist them in the work of plunder. This was one of the offences charged against Cockburn of Henderland, and which, no doubt, weighed heavily with his judges in consigning him to the gallows.
When the reivers thus turned their attention to their own countrymen, and with the assistance of English allies began to despoil them, it was felt that strong measures must be adopted for their suppression and punishment. The Border reivers regarded the law with a feeling akin to contempt. They were disposed to look upon the statutes of the realm as so many old wives’ fables; and, truth to speak, they were often of not much more account. The policy of the wardens was too frequently one of mere self-aggrandizement, and so long as their individual interests were not imperilled they looked on with a kind of placid indifference at the misdoings of those whom it was their duty, if not their interest, to control. When James VI. came to Dumfries, to “daunton the thieves” in that district of the country, his time wasmainly occupied in meting out summary punishment to men of high social position, whose “thefts, herschips, and slaughters” had become notorious, and cried aloud for vengeance. There were, no doubt, many of the commonality as well, who at this time were made to suffer for their crimes, but as these cases were generally dealt with by subordinate officials, they do not come so prominently before us. “Nothing is more remarkable,” says Sir Herbert Maxwell, “than the light thrown on the social state of Scotland at this time by the justiciary records. By far the larger part of the criminals dealt with at the King’s ‘justice aires’ were men of good position, barons and landowners, burgesses or provosts of burghs. The humbler offenders were dealt with by the sheriff or at the baron’s courts, and do not appear; but the following extracts from the records of the short reign of James IV., in which the culprits are all landowners, or members of their families, in Dumfriesshire or Galloway, illustrate the difficulty of maintaining order when the upper classes were so unruly.” Here a list of names is appended, in which such well-known personages as Murray, Jardine, Herries, Bell, Dinwoodie, Lindsay, Douglas, &c., appear. These men stand charged with high treason, forethought—felony, slaughter, horse-stealing, and other heinous offences. Some were pardoned, others respited, the horse-stealer was called upon to make restitution,—asevere sentence,—and Lindsay of Wauchope, who had slain a messenger-at-arms, was condemned to death, and his estates forfeited. In the accounts of expenditure incurred by the King during this visit to Dumfries some curious items appear. Here are a few samples.Item, to the man that hangit the thieves at the Hallirlaws,—xiiijs.Item, for ane raip to hang them in ...—viijd.Item, to the man that hangit the thieves in Canonby, be the King’s command ...—xiiijs. But all the details are not of this gruesome character. The work of hanging, needful as it was, could give but “sma’ pleasure” even to a King, and so we find that entertainment of another kind was plentifully provided for the youthful monarch. “He was attended in his progress,” says Tytler, “by his huntsmen, falconers, morris dancers, and all the motley and various minions of his pleasure, as well as by his judges and ministers of the law; and whilst troops of the unfortunate marauders were seized and brought in irons to the encampment, executions and entertainments appear to have succeeded each other with extraordinary rapidity.”[62]
Not long after the King made another visit to the Borders, coming on this occasion also with a considerable following, to the Water of Rule, to “daunton” the Turnbulls, whose excesses had filled the minds ofthe more peaceful inhabitants with a feeling of terror. Leslie, in his own quaint and picturesque style, thus describes the incident:—“The King raid furth of Edinburgh, the viij. of November one the nycht, weill accumpaneit to the watter of Roulle, quhair he tuik divers brokin men and brocht thame to Jeduart; of quhom sum was justifyeit, and the principallis of the trubillis [Turnbulls] come in lyning claythis, with nakitt sordis in thair handis and wyddyis [ropes] about thair neckis, and pat thame in the Kingis will; quha wes send to divers castells in ward, with sindrie utheris of that cuntrey men also, quhair throchout the bordouris wes in greiter quietnes thairefter.”[63]
We find that the Regents, when occasion demanded, were no less severe in their treatment of the unfortunate marauders. It would seem that about the middle of the sixteenth century the Borders had attained to an almost unexampled degree of lawlessness. Murder, robbery, and offences of all kinds prevailed to an intolerable extent. It is said that men who had been publicly outlawed walked abroad, deriding the terrors of justice. Hawick, a burgh of ancient renown, was the centre of these crimes. The Earl of Mar made a sudden and rapid march upon the town, encompassed it with his soldiers, and made a proclamation in the market place forbidding anyone, on pain of death, to receive or shelter a thief. He apprehended fifty-three of the most noted outlaws, eighteen of whom, strange to state, he was under the necessity of drowning for “lack of trees and halters.” Six were hanged in Edinburgh, and the rest either acquitted or put in prison. This sharp and salutary lesson was evidently laid to heart, as we learn that, for some time after, extraordinary quietness prevailed.
In a few years, however, the state of matters on the Borders seems to have gone from bad to worse. The Scotts and the Ellwoods (Elliots) were at deadly feud, and as the result of their frequent and violent quarrels the whole district was thrown into confusion and disorder. Queen Mary had recently returned from France; and, hearing how things were going in this distracted part of her realm, came to Jedburgh to hold court in person. For more than a week she was busily engaged in hearing a great variety of cases that were brought before her, and imposing various modes and degrees of punishment on the offenders. It was on this occasion she made her famous visit to Hermitage Castle, in Liddesdale. The Earl of Bothwell had been stationed there for some time, in order if possible to “daunton” the “wicked limmers” by whom the district had long been infested. One day when in pursuit of a party of Elliots, having got considerably ahead of his company, he encountered a famous mosstrooper, John Elliot of Park, the “little JockElliot” of Border song (?), and drawing a “dag” or pistol fired at him, wounding him severely in the thigh. The gallant marauder turned upon his assailant, and, with a two-handed sword, which he wielded with amazing dexterity, bore him to the ground, leaving him to all appearance dead. Some have been wicked enough to wish that thiscoup d’epéehad been more effective, as both Queen and country would have been spared much trouble and many heart burnings had Elliot’s well-aimed blow fallen with more deadly effect. Mary, hearing that her favourite courtier lay ill at Hermitage, resolved to pay him a friendly visit. Leaving Jedburgh early in the morning, in the company of her brother Murray, and other officers, she rode by way of Hawick over the hills to Liddesdale—a distance of twenty miles. The road was rough, and not without its hazards, especially to one unacquainted with the district—the ground near the watershed being full of quaking bogs and treacherous morasses. There is a place still known as the “Queen’s Mire,” near the head of the Braidlie burn, where the palfrey on which her Majesty was riding came to grief. Not long ago a bit of a silver spur was found at this spot, which is not unreasonably regarded as a relic of the Queen’s disaster.
After watching by the bed of the sufferer for the space of two hours, the Queen resumed her journey, reaching Jedburgh the same night. This long andexciting ride, which has exposed the memory of the fair Queen to many severe animadversions, was followed by a violent fever, which brought her to the gates of death. She herself did not expect to recover. Calling her nobles around her couch she enjoined them to live in unity and peace with each other, and to employ their utmost diligence in the government of the country, and the education of her son. But the end was not yet. Fotheringay, with its tragic memories, and not the quiet Border town where she then lay, was to witness the close of her sublimely pathetic career.
The unsettled condition of the country after the battle of Langside, and the Queen’s flight into England, made the Border reivers more than ever bold and lawless. They seemed to think that their opportunity had come, and that they might shake themselves free from the embarrassing restraints of constituted authority. But they were speedily made to feel that the hand of the Regent was even heavier than that of the King. The Earl of Murray, realizing that repressive measures were urgently needed, mustered a force of 4000 horse and foot and marched into Teviotdale, where he was speedily joined by Scott of Buccleuch, Home, Ker of Cessford, Ker of Ferniherst, and other gentlemen. After consulting together it was resolved to burn and destroy Liddesdale; and Buccleuch and Ferniherst were deputed to undertake the work. This resolution, as might havebeen expected, created consternation and dismay amongst the leaders of the clans, who came to the Regent entreating him to stay his hand, and graciously pardon their offences. Murray was not unwilling to do so, provided they would give assurances and pledges of their future conduct.
It was found impossible, however, to come to terms. The sureties offered did not satisfy the Regent, and he at once set about the wholesale work of destruction which he had formerly planned. He was determined to do the work thoroughly when he had begun. Everything that would burn was given to the flames. Not a single house was left standing. He spent a Sunday night in the castle of Mangerton, and when he left next morning he had the satisfaction of seeing it reduced to a heap of ruins. This destructive invasion must have taxed the energies of his large army, as it is said that the Armstrongs and Elliots had fifty keeps and castles on the banks of the Liddle. It is one thing, however, to destroy the rookeries; it is another and totally different thing to exterminate the crows. The Border thieves were not difficult to accommodate. They were inured to hardship. It was a necessity of their mode of life. Their “peels” and “towers” might be in ruins, but it never seemed to have occurred to them to go elsewhere, at least for any length of time. As soon as the avenging army had withdrawn, they were back to their old haunts, and in a short time hadthem as comfortable as ever. When a community has been demoralized by long continued misgovernment, the mere application of brute force does not go far in the way of restraining them, or helping them toward a better mode of life—a lesson which governments are often slow to learn.
But this work of “dauntoning the thieves” was also occasionally undertaken by the wardens with considerable heartiness, more especially when dealing with unfortunate culprits from the opposite wardenry. Sir Robert Cary frequently distinguished himself in this way. In his chatty and interesting “Memoirs,” he tells a story of oneGeordie Bourne, whom he caused to be hanged on account of his villainies. It is to be hoped that the picture he has drawn of this man is not representative of the reivers as a whole, as it is hardly possible to conceive of a more consummate scoundrel. We shall let the warden tell the story in his own words. He says:—“This gallant with some of his associates, would, in a bravery, come and take goods in the East March. I had that night some of the garrison abroad. They met with this Geordie and his fellows driving off cattle before them. The garrison set upon them, and with a shot killed Geordie Bourne’s uncle, and he himself bravely resisting, till he was sore hurt in the head, was taken. After he was taken, his pride was such as he asked who it was that durst avow that night’s work? But when he heard itwas the garrison, he was then more quiet. But so powerful and awful was this Sir Robert Car and his favourites, as there was not a gentleman in the East March that durst offend them. Presently, after he was taken, I had most of the gentlemen of the March come to me, and told me that now I had the ball at my foot, and might bring Sir Robert Car to what condition I pleased; for this man’s life was so near and dear to him, as I should have all that heart could desire for the good and quiet of the country and myself, if upon any condition I would give him his life. I heard them and their reasons; notwithstanding, I called a jury the next morning, and he was found guilty of March treason. Then they feared that I would cause him to be executed that afternoon, which made them come flocking to me that I should spare his life till the next day; and if Sir Robert Car came not himself to me, and made me not such proffers as I could not but accept, then I should do with him what I pleased. And, further, they told me plainly that if I should execute him before I heard from Sir Robert Car, they must be forced to quit their houses and fly the country; for his fury would be such against me and the March I commanded, as he would use all his power and strength to the utter destruction of the East March. They were so earnest with me, that I gave them my word he should not die that day. There was post upon post sent to SirRobert Car; and some of them rode to him themselves to advertise him in what danger Geordie Bourne was; how he was condemned, and should have been executed that afternoon, but, by their humble suit, I gave them my word that he should not die that day; and therefore besought him that he would send to me with all speed he could, to let me know that he would be next day with me to offer good conditions for the safety of his life. When all things were quiet and the watch set at night, after supper, about ten of the clock, I took one of my men’s liveries and put it about me, and took two other of my servants with me in their liveries, and we three, as the warden’s men, came to the Provost Marshal’s, where Bourne was, and were let into his chamber. We sat down by him, and told him that we were desirous to see him, because we heard he was stout and valiant and true to his friend; and that we were sorry our master could not be moved to spare his life. He voluntarily of himself said that he had lived long enough to do so many villainies as he had done, and withal told us that he had lain with above forty men’s wives, what in England, what in Scotland; and that he had killed seven Englishmen with his own hand, cruelly murdering them; that he had spent his whole time in whoring, drinking, stealing, and taking deep revenge for slight offences. He seemed to be very penitent, and much desired a minister for the comfortof his soul. We promised him to let our master know his desire, who, we knew, would presently grant it. We took our leave of him, and presently I took order that Mr Selby, a very worthy honest preacher, should go to him, and not stir from him till his execution the next morning; for after I had heard his own confession, I was resolved no conditions should save his life; and so took order that, at the gate’s opening next morning, he should be carried to execution, which accordingly was performed.”[64]
Milder measures were sometimes adopted, and proved surprisingly efficacious—in certain circumstances. Before Sir Robert Cary was warden of the East March he was deputy to Lord Scrope, his brother-in-law, who was warden of the West March, with his headquarters in Carlisle. On one occasion, when occupying this subordinate position, intelligence was brought to him that two Scotsmen had killed a churchman in Scotland, and that they had been relieved or sheltered by one of the Græmes of Netherby. Cary determined to surprise the fugitive Scots, and about two o’clock one morning surrounded the Tower of Netherby with twenty-five horsemen. As he approached he saw a boy riding from the house as fast as his horse could carry him. Thomas Carelton came to him and said, “Do you see that boy that rideth away as fast? He will be in Scotlandwithin this half hour, and he is gone to let them know that you are here, and the small number you have with you; and that if they make haste, on a sudden they may surprise us, and do with us what they please.” But Cary was not to be frightened. He soon gathered together three or four hundred horse from the surrounding district and as many foot, and presently set to work to get to the top of the strong tower into which the Scots had fled for refuge. The Scots, seeing how things were going, pled for mercy. “They had no sooner opened the iron gate,” says Cary, “and yielded themselves my prisoners, but we might see four hundred horse within a quarter of a mile coming to their rescue, and to surprise me and my small company; but of a sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. Then had I more to do than ever, for all our Borderers came crying with full mouths, ‘Sir, give us leave to set upon them, for these are they that have killed our fathers, our brothers, our uncles, and our cousins; and they are come, thinking to surprise you, upon weak grass nags,[65]such as they could get on a sudden; and God will put them into your hands, that we may take revenge of them for much blood that they have spilled of ours.’ I desired that they would be patient and wise, and bethought myself, if I should give them their wills, there should be few or none of them (the Scots) thatwould escape unkilled (there were so many deadly feuds among them), and therefore I resolved with myself to give a fair answer, but not to give them their desire. So I told them that if I were not there myself, they might do what pleased themselves; but being present, if I should give them leave, the blood that had been spilt that day would lie very heavy on my conscience, and therefore I desired them, for my sake, to forbear; and if the Scots did not presently make away with all the speed they could upon my sending to them, they should then have their wills to do what they pleased. They were ill satisfied with my answer, but durst not disobey. I sent with speed to the Scots, and bade them pack away with all the speed they could, for if they stayed the messengers’ return, there should few of them return to their own home. They made no stay, but they were turned homewards before the messenger had made an end of his message. Thus, by God’s mercy and by my means, there were a great many lives spared that day.”[66]
Thus ended happily what might otherwise have proved a disastrous encounter. Such incidents tend to prove that the Borderers might have been governed with comparative ease had they only been dealt with in a firm but kindly spirit. The rough usage to which they were frequently subjected at the hands of the government made them reckless, and not unnaturally led them to regard the law not as a friend, but as an enemy.
Though reiving may be said to have been a characteristic of the inhabitants along the whole Border line from Berwick to the Solway, yet it was only in the district known as Liddesdale where it attained, what we might designate, its complete development as a thoroughly organized system. This part of Roxburghshire is, to a certain extent, detached from the rest of the county by reason of the fact that it lies south of the range of hills which form the watershed between the Solway and the German Ocean. This picturesque and interesting district, so famous in Border song and story, is of a somewhat triangular shape, and at present forms one of the largest parishes in the south of Scotland, measuring some twenty miles by fourteen. It is bounded by England on the south, by Dumfriesshire on the west, and by the parishes ofTeviothead, Hobkirk, and Southdean on the north. The upper, or northern, portion is mountainous and bleak. Some of the hills along its boundaries are high and precipitous, the lofty peaks of Millenwood Fell and Windhead attaining an elevation of close on 2000 feet. Tudhope hill, which forms a landmark for ships at sea, is 1830 feet high. The lower end of the district is less mountainous, but the whole country is wild and bare, except in the valleys, which are clothed in the richest green, and are sunny and sheltered.
Along the banks of the Hermitage and the Liddle—the latter stream giving its name to the district—the keeps and peels of the Border reivers were thickly and picturesquely planted. These towers, many of which have been happily preserved, form one of the most striking features of the Border landscape. As a general rule they were built in some situation of great natural strength, on a precipice, or close to the banks of a stream, or surrounded by woods and morasses, which made them difficult of access. The position in which they were generally placed indicated at a glance the pursuits and apprehensions of their inhabitants. It is said that when James VI. approached the castle of Lochwood, the ancient seat of the Johnstones, he exclaimed that “the man who built it must have been a knave in his heart.”
The principal part of these strongholds consisted of a large square tower, called a “keep,” having walls ofimmense thickness, which could be easily defended against any sudden or desultory assault. The residencies of the inferior Chiefs, called “peels” or “bastel-houses,” were generally built on a much smaller scale, and consisted merely of a high square tower, surrounded by an outer wall, which served as a protection for cattle at night. In these places the rooms were placed, one above the other, and connected by a narrow stair, which was easily blocked up or defended, so that it was possible for the garrison to hold out for a considerable period, even after the lower storey had been taken possession of by the enemy. In such circumstances the usual device was for the assailants to heap together quantities of wetted straw, and set fire to it in order to drive the defenders from storey to storey, and thus compel them to surrender.
“In each village or town,” says Sir Walter Scott, “were several small towers having battlements projecting over the side walls, and usually an advanced angle or two, with shot-holes for flanking the doorway, which was always defended by a strong door of oak, studded with nails, and often by an interior door of iron. These small peel-houses were ordinarily inhabited by the principal feuars and their families. Upon the alarm of approaching danger, the whole inhabitants thronged from their miserable cottages, which were situated around, to garrison these placesof defence. It was then no easy matter for an hostile party to penetrate into the village, for the men were habituated to the use of bow and fire-arms; and the towers being generally so placed that the discharge from one crossed that from another, it was impossible to assault any of them individually.”
In the middle of the sixteenth century there were no fewer than sixteen of these bastel-houses in the village of Lessudden, a fact which shows that the inhabitants of the Border were compelled to live under somewhat peculiar conditions. To follow the ordinary occupations of life was, in most cases, all but impossible.
One of the most important strongholds on the Borders was Hermitage, a well-built castle, placed near the watershed, on the banks of a swift-flowing mountain stream—the Hermitage water, which joins the Liddle a little above the village of Newcastleton. This famous Border tower was built and fortified by Walter, Earl of Menteith, in the beginning of the thirteenth century. It was a royal fortress, built and maintained for the defence of the Kingdom. Numerous interesting associations cluster around its mouldering walls. It has, unhappily, been the scene of many a blood-curdling tragedy. Could its massive walls only recount the deeds which have been done under their shadow, they would many a strange tale unfold. Hermitage was long associated with the name ofLord Soulis, a fiend in human form, whose crimes have been painted in blackest hues, and to whom tradition has ascribed almost every conceivable kind and degree of wickedness. He seems, at least, to have been utterly destitute of the divine quality of mercy.
“The axe he bears, it hacks and tears;’Tis form’d of an earth-fast flint;No armour of knight, tho’ ever so wight,Can bear its deadly dint.No danger he fears, for a charm’d sword he wears,Of adderstone the hilt;No Tynedale knight had ever such might,But his heart-blood was spilt.”
He invited the young laird of Mangerton to a feast, and treacherously murdered him. The “Cout of Keeldar,” also, was drowned by the retainers of Lord Soulis in a pool near the castle, being held down in the water by the spears of his murderers.
“And now young Keeldar reach’d the stream,Above the foamy linn;The Border lances round him gleam,And force the warrior in.The holly floated to the side,And the leaf on the rowan pale;Alas! no spell could charm the tide,Nor the lance of Liddesdale.Swift was the Cout o’ Keeldar’s courseAlong the lily lee;But home came never hound nor horse,And never home came he.Where weeps the birch with branches green,Without the holy ground,Between two old gray stones is seenThe warrior’s ridgy mound.And the hunters bold, of Keeldar’s train,Within yon castle’s wall,In a deadly sleep must aye remain,Till the ruin’d towers down fall.Each in his hunter’s garb array’d,Each holds his bugle horn;Their keen hounds at their feet are laidThat ne’er shall wake the morn.”
Tradition says that, when the people complained to the King of the atrocities committed by Lord Soulis, he said to them in a fit of irritation—“Go, boil Lord Soulis and ye list, but let me hear no more of him.” No sooner said than done—
“On a circle of stones they placed the pot,On a circle of stones but barely nine;They heated it red and fiery hot,Till the burnish’d brass did glimmer and shine.They roll’d him up in a sheet of lead,A sheet of lead for a funeral pall;They plunged him in the cauldron red,And melted him, lead, and bones and all.At the Skelfhill, the cauldron stillThe men of Liddesdale can show;And on the spot where they boil’d the potThe spreat and the deer-hair ne’er shall grow.”
At a place called the “Nine Stane Rig” there may still be seen a circle of stones where it is supposed this gruesome tragedy was enacted. The “cauldronred,” in which Lord Soulis was boiled, is now in the possession of the Duke of Buccleuch. The Nine Stane Rig derived its name from an old Druidical circle of upright stones, nine of which remained to a late period. Two of these are particularly pointed out as those that supported the iron bar upon which the fatal cauldron was suspended.
The castle of Hermitage ultimately passed into the possession of the Douglasses, and became the principal stronghold of the “Black Knight of Liddisdale,” a natural son of the good Lord James Douglas, the trusted friend and companion of Bruce. In the year 1342 it was the scene of the following terrible tragedy:
Sir Alexander Ramsay of Dalhousie, a brave and patriotic Scottish baron, who had specially distinguished himself in the wars with England, was appointed governor of the castle of Roxburgh and Sheriff of Teviotdale. Douglas, who had formerly held the office of Sheriff, was enraged when he heard what had occurred, and vowed revenge against Ramsay, his old companion in arms. He came suddenly upon him with a strong party of his vassals while he was holding his court in the church of Hawick. Ramsay, suspecting no harm, invited Douglas to take a seat beside him. The ferocious warrior, drawing his sword, rushed upon his victim, wounded him, threw him across his horse, and carried him off to the remote and inaccessible castle ofHermitage. There he was thrown into a dungeon, and left to perish of hunger. It is said that his miserable existence was prolonged for seventeen days by some particles of corn which fell from a granary above his prison. Tytler, in commenting on this abominable crime, justly remarks:—“It is a melancholy reflection that a fate so horrid befell one of the bravest and most popular leaders of the Scottish nation, and that the deed not only passed unrevenged, but that its perpetrator received a speedy pardon, and was rewarded by the office which led to the murder.”
In later times Hermitage is chiefly associated with the names of Bothwell and Buccleuch. It is still in the possession of the latter noble family, and is one of the most interesting of all the old Border castles.
In the olden time Liddesdale was chiefly inhabited by two numerous and powerful families—the Armstrongs and the Elliots. The laird of Mangerton was the head of the former, and the laird of Redheugh of the latter. Both families were, almost without exception, notorious freebooters. Reiving was the business of their lives. They were inspired, if not with a noble, at least with an overmastering enthusiasm for their nefarious calling. They were strongly of opinion that all property was common by the law of nature, and that the greatest thief was the manwho had the presumption to call anything his own! Might was right.
“They may take who have the power,And they may keep who can.”
It was, no doubt, a simple rule, but the consequences resulting from its application were not always of an agreeable description.
It is said that the original name of the Armstrongs wasFairbairn, and that the change of name was brought about by a curious incident. The King on one occasion asked a Fairbairn to help him to mount his horse. Stretching out his arm, he caught the King by the thigh, and lifted him into his saddle. From henceforth he was known by the name ofArmstrong.
The name “Elliot” has undergone considerable changes. It is spelled in some of the older documents in at least seventy or eighty different ways, the most common being Ellwood, Elwald, Elwand, Hellwodd, Halliot, Allat, Elliot. It is remarkable that in many districts in the south of Scotland the name is still pronounced “Allat,” though this is one of the older forms in which it appears.
The Elliots and Armstrongs and other inhabitants of Liddesdale attained an unenviable notoriety. The picture which Maitland has drawn of these “Liddesdale Limmers” may be here and there too highlycoloured; yet those who are most familiar with the facts of Border history will be the first to admit that it is, on the whole, a fairly accurate description. It is entitled, “A Complaynt against the Thieves of Liddesdale”—
“Of Liddesdale the common thieves,Sae pertly steals now and reives,That nane may keepHorse, nolt, nor sheepFor their mischieves.They plainly through the country rides,I trow the mickle devil them guides,Where they onsetAy in their gait,There is no yett,Nor door them bides.They leave richt nocht wherever they gae;There can nae thing be hid them frae;For gif men waldTheir houses hald,Then wax they baldTo burn and slay.They thieves hae near hand herrit hail,Ettrick Forest and Lauderdale;Now are they ganeTo Lothiane,And spares naneThat they will wail.Bot common taking of blackmail,They that had flesh, and bread, and ale,Now are sae wrackit,Made bare and naikit,Fain to be slaikit,With water caill.They thieves that steals and turses[67]hame,Ilk ane o’ them has ane to-name,Will i’ the Laws,Hab o’ the Shaws,To mak bare wa’sThey think nae shame.They spulyie puir men o’ their packs,They leave them nocht on bed or balks,[68]Baith hen and cock,With reel and rock,The Laird’s jock,All with him taks.They leave not spindle, spoon, nor speit,Bed, blanket, bolster, sark, nor sheet,John o’ the ParkRypes kist and ark;For all sic warkHe is richt meet.He is weel kenned, Jock o’ the Syde—A greater thief did never ride;He never tiresFor to break byres;O’er muir and mires,Ower guid ane guid.Of stouth though now they come guid speed,That nother of God or man has dread;Yet or I dee,Some shall them seeHing on a tree,While they be dead.”
It is evident from this graphic account that these “Liddesdale limmers” were not particular as to their booty. They carried off everything that came tohand, on the principle, perhaps, that if they had no particular use for some of the things they appropriated, they were at least leaving their enemies poorer than when they found them. We read of one John Foster of Heathpool, servant to Sir John Foster, complaining of John Elliot of the Heughehouse, Clement Croser, “Martin’s Clemye,” John Croser, “Eddie’s John,” Gib Foster of Fowlesheiles, &c., to the number of thirty, “who stole six oxen, 6 kye, 4 young nowte, ane horse, a nag, a sword, a steil cap, a dagger and knives, 2 spears, 2 dublets, 2 pair of breeches, a cloke, a jerkyne, a woman’s kertle and a pair of sleaves, 9 kerchers, 7 railes, 7 partlettes, 5 pair of line(n) sheitis, 2 coverlettes; 2 lynne sheits; a purs and 6/- in monie; a woman’s purs and 2 silke rybbons; a windinge clothe; a feather bed; a cawdron, a panne, 4 bond of hempe, a pair of wool cards, 4 children’s coates, &c., &c.”[69]
The list of goods here “appropriated” by John Elliot and his friends is an interesting one, as it shows “that all was fish that came to their net”—not even the “winding cloth” being discarded when ransacking the house. We also find an account of one Robert Rutherford of Todlaw producing a “remission for art and part of the theft of certain cuschies of silk, sheits, fustiane, linen cloths, scarfs, fustiane, scarfs, and other clothes, furth of the Kirk of Jedworthe—RobertTurnbull of Blindhalche becoming surety to satisfy parties.”[70]Sacrilege was of frequent occurrence. We also find the following entry in Pitcairn:—“Remission to Edward Tayt, for the thiftwise breking of the Kirk of Hendirland, and takin away of certaine guids, gold and silver, fra Sir Wilzeame Jurdane.” This happened in the year 1493, which points to the fact that at that date the church of Henderland, which stood on the rounded eminence near Henderland farm house, where “Perys and Marjorie Cockburn” have found their last resting place, was then in existence. This place of worship must have disappeared about the time of the Reformation.
These items of information, curious though they may appear, must not be regarded as abnormal instances of the rapacity of the Liddesdale thieves, or “limmers”—to use the designation of an old Act of the Scottish Parliament. They simply denote ordinary incidents of Border reiving. “Kist” and “ark” were made to yield up their treasures. “Insight gear” included everything to be found within the four walls of the house. The very children were sometimes carried off! When the thieves had completed their task those whom they had plundered were occasionally left in a state of absolute destitution. They might congratulate themselves when theywere able to keep their clothes on their backs! Some, indeed, were not so fortunate; and, after an encounter with the thieves, were compelled to face the rigour of a severe climate with an exceedingly primitive outfit.
It is interesting to find that the clan system prevailed on the Borders, especially in the south-west portion of the district. In Liddesdale, in the district known as the Debateable land, and along the shores of the Solway, the inhabitants were grouped into clans, many of them numerous and powerful. According to Skene, “the word clan signifies children or descendants, and the clan name thus implies that the members of it are, or were supposed to be, descended from a common ancestor or eponymus, and they were distinguished from each other by their patronymics, the use of surnames in the proper sense of the term being unknown among them. These patronymics, in the case of theCaenncine, or chief, and theCeanntighs, or heads of the smaller septs, indicated their descent from the founder of the race or sept; those of the members of it who were of the kin of the Chief or Chieftain showed the personal relation; while the commonality of the clan simply used a derivative form of the name of the clan, implying merely that they belonged to it.”[71]
This form of government, so essentially patriarchalin its nature, is at once the most simple and universal. It is derived from the most primitive idea of authority exercised by a father over his family. Among nations of a Celtic origin this system was universal. Indeed, it is generally held that it is a system peculiar to Celtic tribes. How it came to be established on the Borders is a question which is not easily solved. Sir Walter Scott is of opinion that the system was originally derived from the inhabitants of the western portion of Valentia, who remained unsubdued by the Saxons, and by those of Reged, and the modern Cumberland. He says that the system was not so universal on the eastern part of the Marches, or on the opposite Borders of England. There were many families of distinction who exercised the same feudal and territorial authority that was possessed by other landlords throughout England. But in the dales of Rede and Tyne, as well as in the neighbouring county of Cumberland, the ancient custom of clanship prevailed, and consequently the inhabitants of those districts acted less under the direction of their landlords than under that of the principal men of their name.[72]
It is important that this fact should be kept steadily in mind, as the mode of government, of living, and of making war, adopted by the Borderers on both sides, seems to have been in great measure the consequence of the prevailing system of clanship.
It is the simplest of all possible systems of government. The Chief was not only the legislator and captain and father of the tribe, but it was to him that each individual of the name looked up for advice, subsistance, protection, and revenge.
In “Skene’s Acts of Parliament” a Roll of the Border clans is given, from which it would appear that there wereseventeendistinct septs, or families, mostly in the south-western portion of the Scottish Borders. TheMiddle Marchwas inhabited by Elliots, Armstrongs, Nicksons, and Crosiers. TheWest Marchby Scotts, Beatisons, Littles, Thomsones, Glendinnings, Irvinges, Belles, Carrutherses, Grahams, Johnstones, Jardines, Moffettes, and Latimers. These clans are described as having “Captaines, Chieftaines, quhome on they depend, oft-times against the willes of their Landislordes.” “Ilk ane o’ them,” according to Maitland, had a to-name, ornickname, as it is commonly called now-a-days. This was a matter of necessity, as otherwise it would have been exceedingly difficult to distinguish the different members of the sept. These to-names are often suggestive and amusing, as most of them are based on some physical or moral peculiarity. In the year 1583 Thomas Musgrave sent an interesting letter to Burghley, Chancellor to Queen Elizabeth, in which he gives a list of the Armstrongs and Elliots. “I understand,” he says, “that your lordship is not well acquainted with the namesof the waters, and the dwelling places of the riders and ill-doers both of England and Scotland.... May it please, therefore, your lordship to understand, that the ryver Lyddal is a fayre ryver, and hath her course doun by Lyddisdall, so as the dale hath the name of the ryver.... I shall therefore set downe the Ellottes of the head of Lyddall as my skyll will afforde, that your lordship may know the better when their deeds shall come in question. The Ellotes of Lyddisdall:—Robin Ellot of the Redheugh, Chiefe of the Ellottes; Will Ellot of Harskarth his brother; Gebbe Ellot his brother; Adam Ellot of the Shaws; Arche Ellot called Fyre the brayes; Gybbe Ellot of the Shawes; Gorth Simson; Martin Ellot called Rytchis Martin. All these are Robin Ellotes brethren, or his men that are daly at his commandement. The grayne of the Ellotes called the Barneheedes:—Joke Ellot called Halfe loges. The grayne of the Ellottes of the Bark:—Sims Johne Ellot of the Park; Will Ellot, gray Willie; Hobbe Ellot called Scotes Hobbe; Johne Ellot of the Park; Jem Ellote called gray Wills Jeme; Hobbe Ellot called Hobbs Hobbe. The grayne of Martin Ellot of Bradley:—Gowan Ellot called the Clarke; Hobbe Ellot his brother; Arche Ellot his brother; Joke Ellot called Copshawe; John Ellot of Thornesope; Will Ellot of the Steele; Dand Ellot of the Brandley; John Ellot of the same; Seme Ellot of Hardin. All theiseEllots and manie more of them are at Robin Ellot’s commandment and dwell betwixt the Armstrongs in Lyddisdall and Whethough town—fewe of them marryed with Englishe women.” Then follows a long list of the “Armstrongs of Mangerton,” and of the “Howse of Whetaughe Towre.” Some of the names in the list are amusingly suggestive—“Seme Armestronge lord of Mangerton marryed John Foster’s daughter of Kyrshopefoot; Joke Armestronge called the “lord’s Joke” dwelleth under Dennyshill besides Kyrsope in Denisborne, and married Anton Armestrong’s daughter of Wylyare in Gilsland; Johne Armestronge called “the lordes Johne,” marryet Rytche Grayme’s sister.... Thomas Armestrong called “the lordes Tome.”... Runyon Armestrong called “the lordes Runyon.”... Thom Armestronge Sims Thom, marryed Wat Storyes daughter of Eske, called Wat of the Hare ends.”[73]
We also read of “Thomas Abye,” “Gawins Will,” “Red Andrew,” “Bangtale,” “Ould Hector of Harlaw,” “Stowlugs,” “Cokespoole,” “Skinabake,” “Carhand,” “Hob the Tailor,” “Redneb,” &c.
Among the Elliots we find such to-names as “Long John,” “John the Child,” “John Cull the spade,” “Bessie’s Wife’s Riche,” “Robin the Bastard of Glenvoren,” &c. One of the family of Nixon wasknown as “Ill Drooned Geordie,” a name which seems to indicate that the person who bore it had had at one time or another a narrow escape from what perhaps was his righteous doom. “Wynking Will,”[74]“Wry-Crag,” “David the Leddy,” and “Hob the King,” are sufficiently explicit.
These are a fair sample of theto-namesby which the thieves of Liddesdale were distinguished. It must be admitted, however, that many of them are not quite so respectable as those given, and would hardly admit of reproduction in a modern book. The men to whom they were assigned must have been regarded, one would naturally suppose, as utterly disreputable characters, even by those who associated with them in the invidious calling to which they were devoted.
It is probable that the men of Liddesdale were to a certain extent corrupted by their propinquity to the lawless hordes which inhabited the Debateable land. This was a tract of country lying between the Esk and the Sark, of some fifty or sixty square miles in extent, which was regarded as belonging neither to the one kingdom nor the other. Here the “Genius of Misrule,” for many generations, held all but undisputed sway. The Græmes, Littles, and Bells, and other “broken men” of equally unenviable reputation,found in this district a convenient centre for conducting their marauding exploits. It was a matter of no moment to them whether their victims belonged to the one country or the other. They were as destitute of patriotism as of the other virtues. When they were hard driven by the English, they claimed the protection of the Scottish warden; and when he in his turn had accounts to settle with them, they appealed to his English rival in office to shield them from vengeance. In this way they often succeeded in escaping the punishment due to their misdeeds, where others, less happily circumstanced, would have been speedily compelled to “underlie the law.” In course of time this state of matters became intolerable, and it was resolved by the Scottish Council in the year 1552 that this district should be divided, the one part to be placed under the jurisdiction of England, the other under that of Scotland. Accordingly, a Commission, on which were representatives of both nations, was appointed to settle, if possible, this long-standing difficulty. These commissioners were allowed the utmost freedom of judgment in fixing upon a proper boundary line, as both governments were agreed that minor difficulties, as to the extent of territory to be allocated to the one country or the other, should not be allowed to stand in the way. The final decision was not so easily arrived at as might, in the circumstances, have been expected. The Scots drewthe line considerably to the south, the English to the north, of the boundary finally agreed upon. After considerable discussion, a line was ultimately fixed which satisfied both parties, and a turf dyke was built, stretching from the Sark to the Esk, which is still known as the Scots Dyke.
This was an important step. The boundary was finally settled. The wardens knew the precise limits to which their power and authority extended, and were thus in a position to discharge the duties of their office with more assured certainty of success. But, as might have been anticipated, the fixing of a boundary line did not eradicate, or even to any great extent restrain, the thieving propensities of the lawless inhabitants of this district. The Debateable land continued to nourish “ane great company of thieves and traitores, to the great hurt and skaith of the honest lieges” as in times by-past. But a good beginning had been made in fixing the boundaries, and in course of time more favourable results ensued.
It would be unwarrantable to assert that the Liddesdale thieves attained their unenviable notoriety entirely owing to their intimate association with the fierce banditti to whom reference has been made. The Armstrongs and Elliotts needed no encouragement in the carrying on of their nefarious business of plunder. They were evidently heartily in love withtheir calling, and were never happier than when engaged in a marauding expedition. But apart from the fact that “evil communications corrupt good manners,” the near neighbourhood of the Debateable land constituted an indirect incentive to crime. In the great deer forests of the Highlands there are what are called “sanctuaries,” or places to which the deer may resort to escape the huntsman. We are told that when they are disturbed on the mountains, they at once make for the protected area, where they know they are safe from pursuit. The Debateable land constituted for generations just such a “sanctuary,” or place of refuge for Border thieves. Here they were comparatively safe. The district formed a little kingdom by itself. Within this region the law was comparatively powerless.
But we find that the “Liddesdale limmers” were occasionally driven to bay in the most effectual manner. Sir Robert Cary on one occasion gave them a salutary lesson, which they did not soon forget. The Armstrongs especially, a powerful and turbulent clan, had long carried things with a high hand on the English Border, burning, despoiling, and slaying to their hearts’ content. This state of matters had at last become intolerable, and Cary determined to have it out with them. He called the gentlemen of the neighbourhood together, and acquainted them with the miseries which had been brought upon thepeople by the rapacity and cruelty of the Liddesdale thieves. They advised him to apply to the Queen and Council for assistance, but this he was unwilling to do, as he thought he was quite able, with the resources at his command, to effectually suppress the lawless horde which had wrought such havoc within his wardenry. He says:—“I told them my intention what I meant to do, which was, ‘that myself, with my two deputies, and the forty horse that I was allowed, would, with what speed we could, make ourselves ready to go up to the wastes, and there we would entrench ourselves, and lie as near as we could to the outlaws; and, if there were any brave spirits among them, that would go with us, they should be very welcome, and fare and lie as well as myself: and I did not doubt before the summer ended to do something that should abate the pride of these outlaws.’” With this comparatively small force he set out for Liddesdale. He built a fort on a hill in the immediate vicinity of Tarras moss, into which the thieves, when they learned of his approach, had fled for refuge. Here Cary and his men stayed from the middle of June till near the end of August. The country people supplied him with provisions, being well paid for anything they brought to him. “The chief outlaws,” he says, “at our coming, fled their houses where they dwelt, and betook themselves to a large and great forest, (with all their goods,) which was called theTarras. It was of that strength, and so surrounded with bog and marsh grounds, and thick bushes and shrubs, as they feared not the force nor power of England or Scotland, so long as they were there. They sent me word, that I was like the first puff of a haggis, hottest at the first, and bade me stay there as long as the weather would give me leave. They would stay in the Tarras-wood, till I was weary of lying in the waste; and when I had had my time, and they no whit the worse, they would play their parts, which should keep me waking next winter. Those gentlemen of the country that came not with me, were of the same mind; for they knew, (or thought at least,) that my force was not sufficient to withstand the fury of the outlaws. The time I stayed at the fort I was not idle, but cast, by all means I could, how to take them in the great strength they were in. I found a means to send a hundred and fifty horsemen into Scotland, (conveighed by a muffled man, not known to any of the company,) thirty miles within Scotland; and the business was so carried, that none in the country took any alarm at this passage. They were quietly brought to the backside of the Tarras, to Scotland-ward. There they divided themselves into three parts, and took up three passages which the outlaws made themselves secure of, if from England side they should at any time be put at. They had their scouts on the tops of hills, on the English side, togive them warning if at any time any power of men should come to surprise them. The three ambushes were safely laid, without being discovered, and, about four o’clock in the morning, there were three hundred horse, and a thousand foot, that came directly to the place where the scouts lay. They gave the alarm; our men broke down as fast as they could into the wood. The outlaws thought themselves safe, assuring themselves at any time to escape; but they were so strongly set upon on the English side, as they were forced to leave their goods, and to betake themselves to their passages towards Scotland. There was presently five taken of the principal of them. The rest, seeing themselves, as they thought, betrayed, retired into the thick woods and bogs, that our men durst not follow them, for fear of losing themselves. The principal of the five, that were taken, were two of the eldest sons of Sim of Whittram. These five they brought me to the fort, and a number of goods, both of sheep and kine, which satisfied most part of the country, that they had stolen them from....
Thus God blessed me in bringing this great trouble to so quiet an end; we broke up our fort, and every man retired to his own house.”[75]
Judging from this account, one is led to suppose that the force which Cary had at his command was comparatively small. He tells us that he took a listof those that offered to go with him, and found that with his officers, gentlemen, and servants there would be about two hundred good men and horse; a competent number he thought for such a service. But we find in a letter which he sent to Cecil that he speaks of having “a 1000 horse and foot.”[76]But whatever may have been the strength of the forces at his command, it is quite certain that, on this occasion at least, he proved himself more than a match for the “Lewd Liddesdales.”
The tradition of this famous raid, which was long preserved in the district, differs considerably from the account here given. “The people of Liddesdale have retained,” says the editor of the “Border Minstrelsy,” “the remembrance ofCary’s raid,” as they call it. “They tell that, while he was besieging the outlaws in the Tarras, they contrived, by ways known only to themselves, to send a party into England, who plundered the warden’s lands. On their return, they sent Cary one of his own cows, telling him that, fearing he might fall short of provisions during his visit to Scotland, they had taken the precaution of sending him some English beef.”
The anecdote is worth preserving, as it indicates how anxious the Liddesdale reivers were to forget one of the most unpleasant episodes in their history, or at least to make their discomfiture appear in as favourable a light as possible.