But, however distressing Buccleuch’s conduct may have been to the English members of the Commission, it is evident that neither King nor Council in Scotland was disposed to regard him as a “scourge of God.” He went up to Edinburgh at this time, when things seemed to be going so much against him in the Commission, and had an interview with James, and so obtained his favourable countenance, that “they laughed a long time on the purpose.” The Council took an equally favourable view of the situation, affirming that “it was found that his last invasion of England was just, for ‘repetition’ of goods stolen a short time before, and the slaughter was but of special malefactors, enemies to the public weal and quiet of both countries.”
Elizabeth, however, took a different view of the matter, and put her foot down with such purpose and determination that James speedily became convinced that he must either surrender his favourite, or involve the country in a war with England. The latter alternative was out of the question, as it might have imperilled his claim to the succession, and soBuccleuch was compelled to place himself as a prisoner in the hands of Sir William Bowes, who conducted him to Berwick, and put him in ward, there to await the Queen’s pleasure. Sir John Cary was then governor of the town, and it was with much perturbation and many misgivings that he undertook the safe custody of such a notorious and masterful captive. In a pathetic letter which he addressed to Lord Hunsdon, he says—“I entreat your lordship that I may not become the jailor of so dangerous a prisoner, or, at least, that I may know whether I shall keep him like a prisoner or no? for there is not a worse or more dangerous place in England to keep him in than this; it is so near his friends, and besides, so many in this town willing to pleasure him, and his escape may be so easily made; and once out of the town he is past recovery. Wherefore I humbly beseech your honor let him be removed from hence to a more secure place, ‘for I protest to the Almighty God, before I will take the charge to keep him here, I will desire to be put in prison myself, and to have a keeper of me!’ For what care soever be had of him here, ‘he shall want no furtherance whatsoever wit of man can devise, if he himself list to make an escape.’ So I pray your lordship, ‘even for God’s sake and for the love of a brother,’ to relieve me from this danger.”[99]
This passionate appeal, to be relieved from the responsibility of taking charge of Buccleuch, does not seem to have received much attention. Buccleuch remained under Cary’s guardianship, and, needless to say, proved himself one of the most tractable of prisoners. He could not well have acted otherwise, for he must by this time have become fully convinced that Elizabeth was determined to have her way, and that, in the peculiar circumstances in which the Scottish King was placed, he could ill afford to thwart her wishes. Sir Robert Ker was also induced to place himself in the hands of the English authorities. Strange to relate, he was placed in charge of Sir Robert Cary, with whom he lived for a considerable time on the most intimate and friendly terms. “Contrary to all men’s expectations,” says Cary, “Sir Robert Car chose me for his guardian, and home I brought him to my own house after he was delivered to me. I lodged him as well as I could, and took order for his diet, and men to attend on him; and sent him word, that (although by his harsh carriage towards me, ever since I had that charge, he could not expect any favours, yet) hearing so much goodness of him, that he never broke his word; if he would give me his hand and credit to be a true prisoner, he would have no guard set upon him, but would have free liberty for his friends in Scotland, to have ingress and regress to him as often as he pleased. He took this very kindlyat my hands, accepted of my offer, and sent me thanks.
Some four days passed; all which time his friends came unto him, and he kept his chamber. Then he sent to me, and desired me I should come and speak with him, which I did; and after long discourse, charging and recharging one another with wrongs and injuries, at last, before our parting, we became good friends, with great protestations on his side, never to give me occasion of unkindness again. After our reconciliation, he kept his chamber no longer, but dined and supped with me. I took him abroad with me, at least thrice a-week, a-hunting, and every day we grew better friends. Bocleugh, in a few days after, had his pledges delivered, and was set at liberty. But Sir Robert Car could not get his, so that I was commanded to carry him to York, and there to deliver him prisoner to the archbishop, which accordingly I did. At our parting he professed great love unto me for the kind usage I had shown him, and that I would find the effects of it upon his delivery, which he hoped would be shortly.”[100]
Sir Robert Ker was as good as his word. After he had regained his freedom, by the delivery of the pledges demanded, he returned to his duties as warden of the East March, and seems to haveconducted himself to the entire satisfaction of his generous opponent. Cary says that they often met afterwards at days of truce, and that he had as good justice as he could have desired—their friendship remaining unbroken to the end.
The fortunes of the “Bold Buccleuch,” after his imprisonment in Berwick, were of a varied, but by no means of an unpleasant character. He returned to his duties as Keeper of Liddesdale, and applied himself with energy and ability to the arduous task of keeping his unruly charge, as far as possible, within due bounds of law. This was an almost impossible undertaking, as the Armstrongs and Elliots and other “broken men” of the district had been so long accustomed to a lawless life that they quickly resented any interference with their liberty. The change which had come over the spirit of Buccleuch’s dream was not at all to their liking, and consequently they turned against him, and assailed him with much bitterness. He was “in contempt with them” because of his just dealing with Cary. They would gladly have shaken off his yoke, and were privately working for his overthrow, that they might have the “raynes louse” again. But difficult as the task was, Buccleuch was not easily turned aside from his purpose. He had evidently become convinced that a change of policy was desirable in the interests of the country, and he was determined to carry it out, howeverformidable might be the opposition with which he had to contend. The fact is significant, and ought to be carefully borne in mind. Buccleuch’s indiscretions during the earlier part of his official life were manifold, and severely reprehensible. The only defence which can be offered in his behalf is, that he was placed in a position of great responsibility before he was old enough to appreciate to the full extent the consequences of his actions. His extreme youth, fiery temperament, and fervid patriotism, account for many things in his life which otherwise would be difficult either to explain or justify. But if he sinned greatly, he also repented sincerely. It is really to him we owe the first impulse in the social regeneration of the Borders. From 1597 onwards, he contributed more towards the establishment of good order in the district over which he presided—and it was infinitely the worst district in the country—than any other man of his time. It may be said, indeed, that in him many of the finest qualities of the Scottish Borderer came to full fruition. He was brave, resolute, independent, quick to resent injuries, but withal, warm-hearted and generous. We do not greatly wonder at the large place he has filled in the traditional story of the country. His was a powerful and fascinating personality, and though, from a national point of view, the sphere of his activities was comparatively limited, his name is not unworthy of beingassociated with some of the greatest names in Scottish history.
Towards the close of the year 1599 he went to London to make his peace with the Queen. In a letter to Cecil, written by Sir Robert Cary, we have striking testimony given of the change which had taken place in Buccleuch’s attitude towards the English government. “He will be desirous,” Cary says, “to kiss the Queen’s hand: which favour of late he hath very well deserved, for since my coming into these parts, I do assure your honour he is the only man that hath run a direct course with me for the maintenance of justice, and his performance hath been such as we have great quietness with those under his charge. Nor have I wanted present satisfaction for anything by his people: and he has had the like from me. There is not an unsatisfied bill on either side between us.”[101]
Considering the terms of this letter, we are not surprised to learn that the “Bold Buccleuch” was received at Court with considerable favour. If it be true that Elizabeth at one time was privy to a plot to assassinate him, she must surely have had some qualms of conscience when at last this “stark reiver” stood before her. The scene is a memorable one. The Queen demanded of him, with one of those lion-likeglances which used to throw the proudest nobles on their knees, how he dared to storm her castle, to which the Border baron replied—“What, madam, is there that a brave man may not dare?” The rejoinder pleased her; and, turning to her courtiers, she exclaimed—“Give me a thousand such leaders, and I’ll shake any throne in Europe!”
The more famous reivers whose names have been handed down in the traditions, poetry, and history of the Scottish Border, are seldom regarded with any very pronounced feelings of aversion. The Armstrongs, Elliots, Græmes, Stories, Burneses, and Bells; the Scotts, Kers, Maxwells, and Johnstones—whose depredations have been recorded with much fulness of detail in the annals of the country, were nodoubt quite as bad as they have been described. They cannot be acquitted of grave moral delinquencies, judged even by the standard of the age in which they lived. But at this distance of time many are disposed to regard their depredations and lawless life, if not with a kindly, at least with an indulgent eye. It must be frankly admitted that there was an element of genuine heroism in their lives, which goes far to redeem them from the contempt with which, under other conditions, we would have been compelled to regard them. What they did was, as a general rule, done openly, and evidently with a certain sub-conscious feeling that their actions, if rightly understood, were not altogether blame-worthy. Their reiving was carried on under conditions which developed some of the best as well as worst elements of their nature and manhood. The Border reiver, whatever he was, can certainly not be described as cowardly. He carried his life in his hands. He never knew when he went on a foraging expedition, whether he might return. The enemy with which he had to contend was vigilant and powerful. Before he could drive away the cattle, he had, first of all, to settle accounts with the owner. He might be worsted in the encounter, and instead of securing his booty, he might find himself a captive, with the certainty of being strung up on the nearest tree, or drowned in some convenient pool. Such incidents were of almost every day occurrence. Reiving wastherefore one of the most exciting and hazardous of occupations, demanding on the part of those engaged in it, a strong arm and a dauntless spirit. The burglar who sneaks up to a house while the inmates are asleep, and plies his nefarious calling in silence and under shade of night, and is ready to start off, leaving everything behind him, the moment the alarm is raised, is a contemptible miscreant, for whom the gallows is almost too mild a form of punishment. But the Border reiver was made of different metal; was, indeed, a man of an essentially higher type. He was prepared to fight for every hoof or horn he wished to secure. It was a trial of skill, of strength, of resource, with the enemy. No doubt he had occasionally to ride during the night, aided only by the mild rays of the moon. The way was often long, the paths intricate, and the dangers manifold; but he was also prepared, under the full blaze of the noonday sun, to challenge those he had come to despoil, to protect and retain their property if they could. It was open and undisguised warfare on a miniature scale. This, of course, was not true ofallthe reivers on the Borders. Some of them were hardly worthy of their profession. There are black sheep in every trade—men who represent the baser qualities of their kind, and who bring discredit on their associates.
In looking back over the long list of famous reivers there are many names which, somehow or other, weare disposed to regard with a more or less kindly feeling. This may be difficult to explain, but the fact is undeniable. Perhaps the feeling is due, to a certain extent at least, to the fact that, despite the mode of life adopted by these men, they represented many really admirable qualities, both of intellect and heart. Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie, for example, was one of the most notorious of the clan to which he belonged, and yet he was evidently regarded as a great hero, who had been most shamefully treated by the King. It is also interesting to find that he had a high opinion of himself. He prided himself on hishonesty. However much injury he had inflicted on the unfortunate Englishmen, who had to bear the brunt of his onslaughts, it gives him infinite pleasure and satisfaction to affirm that “he had never skaithed a Scots wife a puir flee.” It is possible, too, that his tragic end may have something to do with the kindly feeling with which his memory is cherished, though this in itself is not sufficient to account for the place he occupies in the Valhalla of Border heroes.
In the same way a halo of romance has gathered round the name of the “Bold Buccleuch,” whose spirit of chivalry has gone far to redeem his memory from opprobrium. The penetrating eye of the English Queen was quick to discern in him qualities of a high order which only required the proper sphere for their development. He may well be regarded as a trulygreat man who was compelled by the circumstances in which he found himself placed, to devote his time and talents to tasks which were quite unworthy of his genius. Hence, when the opportunity occurred, he speedily proved himself not only a great leader of men, but a most potent factor in the social and moral regeneration of the district with which he was so intimately associated.
But of all the Border reivers whose names have been handed down in song and story, none is regarded with more kindly, we might almost say affectionate interest, than that of “Auld Wat of Harden.” For many years he played an important part in Border affairs, and was always to the front in harassing and despoiling the English. We have already noticed the assistance he gave his near kinsman, the “Bold Buccleuch,” in the assault on Carlisle castle, when Kinmont Willie was so gallantly rescued from imprisonment. But, four years prior to this event, in the year 1592, he took part, under the leadership of Bothwell, in the famous “Raid of Falkland,” when the King was surprised in his Palace, and would have had short shrift from the Borderers, had not timely warning been given him of his danger. This escapade entailed on the laird of Harden somewhat serious consequences. An order was issued by the King, with the consent of the Lords of his Council, to demolish theplaces,houses, and fortalicesof Harden and Dryhoip, pertaining to the said Walter Scott. The order runs thus—“Apud Peiblis, xiij die mensis Julij, anno lxxxxij (1592)—The Kingis Majestie, with aduise of the Lordis of his Secreit Counsale, Gevis and grantis full pouer and Commission, expres bidding and charge, be thir presentis, to his weil-belouitt Williame Stewart of Tracquair, todimoleisand cause to be dimoleist and cassin doun to the ground,the place and houssis ofTynneis, quhilkis pertenit to James Stewart sumtyme of Tynneis; as alswa, the lyke pouer and commissioun, expres bidding and charge, to Walter Scott of Gouldielandis and Mr Iedeon Murray, conjunctlie and seuerallie, to dimoleis and caus be dimoleist and cassin doun to the ground,the placeis, houssis, and fortalices ofHardenandDryhoip, pertening to Walter Scott of Harden, quha, with the said James Steuart, wes arte and parte of the lait tresonabill fact, perpetrat aganis his hienes awin persone at Falkland: And that the foirsaidis personis caus the premisses be putt in execution with all convenient expeditioun in signne and taikin of the foirsaidis uthiris personis tressounable and unnaturall defection and attemptat, committit be thame in manner foirsaid. As thay will ansuer to his hienes upon thair obedience.”[102]
This was a severe blow to the laird of Harden, but he doubtless bore it with that finephilosophicalindifference for which he was distinguished. The motto of the Harden family, “We’ll hae moonlight again,” breathes the spirit of optimism, and indicates that the reverses of fortune were never regarded as irreparable. Hope sprang eternal in the Harden breast!
But Auld Wat was never disposed to linger unduly, even when courting the smile of the capricious Goddess. He believed in himself, and relied mainly for his good fortune on his own energy and skill. He was a man of the world—keen, subtle, far-seeing, energetic—never allowing the grass to grow under his feet. He believed in taking time by the forelock—in making hay while the sun shone. Rarely did he ever miss a favourable opportunity of increasing “his goods and gear.” And his reiving was carried on in no paltry or insignificant fashion. He was a man of large ideas, and he carried them out on a splendid scale. For example, we find that in 1596 he ran a day foray into Gilsland, and carried off “300 oxen and kye, a horse and a nag.” This was a large addition to make to his stock, and one cannot help thinking that the “dell” in front of Harden castle, where he kept his captured nowte, must have often been unduly crowded. But then it ought be remembered that the demands on his hospitalitywere numerous and not always easily met. He had a numerous body of retainers, as was befitting a man of his position, who had to be kept in “horse meat and man’s meat,” and having so many to provide for, his large herds often disappeared with great rapidity. The result was that he was constantly under the necessity of crossing the Border in order to replenish his stock. It is related that on one occasion he overheard the town herd calling out to some one, as he was passing, to “send out Wat o’ Harden’s coo.” “Wat o’ Harden’s coo!” the old reiver indignantly exclaimed, “My sang, I’ll soon mak ye speak of Wat o’ Harden’s kye,” and so he at once gathered his forces, marched into Northumberland, and before long he was seen on his way back driving before him a big herd of cows and a basson’d bull. On his way he passed a large sow-backed haystack. Turning round in his saddle and looking at it wistfully, he said, in a regretful tone of voice, “If ye had four feet, ye wadna stand long there!”
It is perhaps to this successful foray that Lord Eure refers in a letter addressed to Cecil under date July 15, 1596, in which he says:—“Watt Ellatt,aliasWatt of Harden, with other East Tividale lairds had 300 or 400 able horsemen, laying an ambush of 300 or 400 foote, brake a day forray a myle beneathe Bellinghame, spoiled the townes men in Bellinghame,brake the crosse, toke all the cattell upp the water to the number thre or fower hundred beastes at the leaste, hath slaine three men of name and wounded one allmoste to deathe, fired noe houses. The fray rose and being brought to me at Hexhame about ixº or xº houers in the morning, I rose myself with my household servuantes, caused the beacons to be fired and sent the fray eche way rounde aboute me, and yet could not make the force of the countrie iiijxxhorsemen and some six score footmen. I followed with the horsemen within twoe or three myles of Scotland, and except Mr Fenwick of Wellington, together with the Keaper of Tindale, Mr Henry Bowes, ther was not one gentleman of the Marche to accompanie me, or mett me at all; and when all our forces were togeither, we could not make twoe hundredth horsse, nor above twoe hundredth footmen.... With shame and greife I speake it’ the Scottes went away unfought withall.”[103]
It will thus be seen that within a few months this famous freebooter had transferred from English soil some six or seven hundred head of cattle. No doubt like his neighbours, who were engaged in the same precarious line of business, he had many unsuccessful raids to recount, but he was certainly one of the most wary and successful of the reivers on the Scottish side of the Border.
Sir Walter Scott, who was a descendant of Wat of Harden, has an interesting note in his “Border Minstrelsy” regarding the family. “Of this Border laird,” he says, “commonly calledAuld Wat of Harden, tradition has preserved many anecdotes. He was married to Mary Scott, celebrated in song by the title of ‘The Flower of Yarrow.’ By their marriage contract, the father-in-law, Philip Scott of Dryhope, was to find Harden in horse meat and man’s meat at his Tower of Dryhope for a year and a day; but five barons pledge themselves, that, at the expiry of that period, the son-in-law should remove without attempting to continue in possession by force! A notary-public signed for all the parties to the deed, none of whom could write their names. The original is still in the charter-room of the present Mr Scott of Harden. By ‘The Flower of Yarrow’ the Laird of Harden had six sons; five of whom survived him, and founded the families of Harden (now extinct), Highchesters (now representing Harden), Reaburn, Wool, and Synton. The sixth son was slain at a fray, in a hunting match, by the Scotts of Gilmanscleuch. His brothers flew to arms; but the old laird secured them in the dungeon of his tower, hurried to Edinburgh, stated the crime, and obtained a gift of the land of the offenders from the Crown. He returned to Harden with equal speed, released his sons, and showed them the charter.‘To horse, lads!’ cried the savage warrior, ‘and let us take possession! The lands of Gilmanscleuch are well worth a dead son.’”
Hogg’s description of “Auld Wat” as he set out for Edinburgh on this occasion is humourously realistic:
And he’s awa’ to Holyrood,Amang our nobles a’,With bonnet lyke a girdle braid,And hayre lyke Craighope snaw.His coat was of the forest green,Wi’ buttons lyke the moon;His breeks were o’ the guid buckskyne,Wi’ a’ the hayre aboon.His twa hand sword hang round his back,An’ rattled at his heel;The rowels of his silver spursWere of the Rippon steel;His hose were braced wi’ chains o’ airn,An’ round wi’ tassels hung:At ilka tramp o’ Harden’s heel,The royal arches rung.······Ane grant of all our lands sae fayreThe King to him has gien;An’ a’ the Scotts o’ GilmanscleuchWere outlawed ilka ane.
But Harden’s best fortune came to him with his wife—the far-famed “Flower of Yarrow.”
This beautous flower, this rose of Yarrow,In nature’s garden has no marrow.
So sang Allan Ramsay. And since his day the charms of “Yarrow’s Rose” have inspired many a more or less tuneful ode. But Mary Scott’s beauty was, after all, not her greatest gift. She was wisebeyond most of her sex, and skilful to a degree in the management of her husband. We find, for example, that instead of remonstrating with him on his culpable negligence in allowing the larder to become depleted, she quietly set before him when he came to dinner a pair of clean spurs! The hint thus indirectly conveyed was quite sufficient. Immediately her worthy spouse was in the saddle and riding as fast as his nag could carry him towards the English fells. It is interesting to know that the spurs that were thus suggestively served up for dinner are still in the possession of the family, being carefully preserved among Lord Polwarth’s treasures at Mertoun House.
But while Wat of Harden could look after his own interests, he was never unmindful of the interests of others. When the Captain of Bewcastle came over to Ettrick “to drive a prey,” and carried off Jamie Telfer’s kye, he rendered splendid service in rescuing the herd from the hand of the spoiler. Though Telfer, with “the tear rowing in his ee,” pled with the Captain to restore his property, he was only laughed at for his pains—
“The Captain turned him round and leugh,Said—“Man, there’s naething in thy house,But ae auld sword without a sheathThat hardly now would fell a mouse.”
Telfer first of all applied for assistance at Stobs Ha’, evidently thinking that he had some special claim on“Gibby Elliot,” but he was unceremoniously turned from the door, and told to go to “Branksome” and “seek his succour where he paid blackmail.” When Buccleuch heard what had taken place, he cried—
“Gar warn the water, braid and wide,Gar warn it sune and hastilie!They that winna ride for Telfer’s kye,Let them never look in the face o’ me!”
Auld Wat and his sons having also been informed of the Captain’s raid, lost no time in getting out their steeds and hurrying after the English reiver. Over the hills, down near the Ritterford on the Liddel, the melee began. The Captain was determined to drive Jamie Telfer’s kye into England despite the opposition of the Scotts, but he was made to pay dearly for his temerity.—
Then til’t they gaed, wi’ heart and hand,The blows fell thick as bickering hail;And mony a horse ran masterless,And mony a comely cheek was pale.
Willie Scott, the son of Buccleuch, was left dead on the field. When Harden saw him stretched on the ground “he grat for very rage.”—
“But he’s ta’en aff his gude steel cap,And thrice he’s waved it in the air—The Dinlay snaw was ne’er mair whiteNor the lyart locks of Harden’s hair.“Revenge! revenge!” Auld Wat ’gan cry;“Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!We’ll ne’er see Teviotside again,Or Willie’s death revenged sall be.”
The conflict was speedily ended. The Captain of Bewcastle was badly wounded, and taken prisoner; his house was ransacked, his cattle driven off, and Jamie Telfer returned to the “Fair Dodhead” with thirty-three cows instead of ten.—
“When they cam’ to the fair Dodhead,They were a wellcum sight to see!For instead of his ain ten milk kye,Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.And he has paid the rescue shot,Baith wi’ goud and white monie:And at the burial o’ Willie Scott,I wat was mony a weeping ee.”
The eldest son of Wat of Harden was destined to become as famous as his father, though in a different way. He had evidently, from what we learn of him, inherited all the reiving tendencies of his race. But the difficulty of crossing the Border had been considerably increased. Buccleuch, the Keeper of Liddesdale, had changed his tactics. He had now begun to use his utmost endeavour to bring about a better understanding, and a better state of feeling, between the two countries. Willie Scott no doubt realised that a raid on the English Border, though successful, might now get the whole family into serious trouble. But the kye “were rowting on the loan and the lea,” and something had to be done to augment the quickly vanishing herd. He took into his confidence a farmer, who lived on the banks of the Ettrick—William Hogg—well known as the “Wild Boar of Fauldshope.” This redoubtable reiver was a progenitor of the Ettrick Shepherd, whose family, it is said, possessed the lands of Fauldshope, under the Scotts of Harden, for a period of 400 years. He was a man of prodigious strength, courage, and ferocity, and ever ready for the fray. For some reason or other he had a strong antipathy to Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank, the picturesque ruins of whose Castle may still be seen on the banks of the Tweed, a mile or two above Ashiesteel. That young Harden could have no particular liking for him is easily understood, as he was one of the men who had been commissioned by the government to destroy Harden castle as a punishment for the part taken by his father in the Raid of Falkland. Sir Gideon had a splendid herd of cattle pasturing on the green slopes above the Tweed, and so Willie Scott resolved, with the assistance of his powerful coadjutor, to transfer as many of them as possible to his own pastures. The night was set, the expedition was carefully planned, and fortune seemed to smile upon the project. But—
The best laid schemes o’ mice and menGang aft a glee.
Some one was good enough to convey to Sir Gideon a hint of what was on foot, and he at once took measures to give the thieves, when they came, a warm reception. After a sharp encounter, Willie Scott wastaken prisoner, and thrown into the dungeon of the Castle, with his hands and feet securely bound. He knew quite well the fate which awaited him on the morrow. He would be led forth to the gallows, and there made to pay the forfeit of his life. A better lot, however, was in store for him. A good angel, in the person of Lady Murray, interfered on his behalf. She had been anxiously considering how she could save his life. Her plans were speedily formed, and in the morning she ventured to lay them before her irate husband. As Hogg has humorously described the scene—
The lady o’ Elibank raise wi’ the dawn,An’ she waukened Auld Juden, an’ to him did say,—“Pray, what will ye do wi’ this gallant young man?”“We’ll hang him,” quo Juden, “this very same day.”“Wad ye hang sic a brisk an’ gallant young heir,An’ has three hamely daughters aye suffering neglect?Though laird o’ the best of the forest sae fair,He’ll marry the warst for the sake o’ his neck.“Despise not the lad for a perilous feat;He’s a friend will bestead you, and stand by you still;The laird maun hae men, an’ the men maun hae meat,An’ the meat maun be had be the danger what will.”
The plan thus suggested seemed feasable. It might really be the wisest course to pursue, at least so Sir Gideon was disposed to think, and no time was lost in bringing the matter to an issue. Young Scott was at once brought into the hall, the terms on which his life was to be spared were briefly stated, and he wasafforded an opportunity of seeing the young lady whom fortune had thus strangely thrown in his way. One glance sufficed. The features of Sir Gideon’s daughter, known to fame as “Muckle-mou’d Meg,” were not attractive. The condemned culprit felt that even the gallows was preferable to such an objectionable matrimonial alliance.
“Lead on to the gallows, then,” Willie replied,“I’m now in your power, and ye carry it high;Nae daughter of yours shall e’er lie by my side;A Scott, ye maun mind, counts it naething to die.”
These were brave words, bravely spoken. Sir Gideon, however, had made up his mind as to the course he meant to pursue, and Willie Scott was at once led forth to make his acquaintance with the “Hanging Tree.” But when he drew near and saw the fatal rope dangling in the wind, his courage began to fail him. The prospect was far from inviting, and he pled for a few days respite to think on his sins, “and balance the offer of freedom so kind.” But the old laird was inexorable. He simply said to him, “There is the hangman, and there is the priest, make your choice.” Thus driven to bay, Willie saw that further parleying would not avail, and so he thought he had better make the best of a bad business. As he thought over the matter, he began to discover certain traits in the young lady’s person and character of a more or less pleasingdescription. He concluded that, after all, he might do worse than wed with the daughter of Elibank.—
“What matter,” quo’ he, “though her nose it be lang,For noses bring luck an’ it’s welcome that brings.There’s something weel-faur’d in her soncy gray een,But they’re better than nane, and ane’s life is sae sweet;An’ what though her mou’ be the maist I hae seen,Faith muckle-mou’d fok hae a luck for their meat.”
Thus everything ended happily, and young Harden had cause to bless the day he found himself at the mercy of Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank. Seldom, indeed, has Border reiver been so beneficently punished!
An’ muckle guid bluid frae that union has flowed,An’ mony a brave fellow, an’ mony a brave feat;I darena just say they are a’ muckle mou’d,But they rather have still a guid luck for their meat.
Such is the tradition, as Hogg has given it in his humourous poem. It goes without saying that the poet has embellished and enlarged the story to suit his own purposes. But the tradition has generally been regarded as having some considerable basis of fact. Satchells, in his History of the Scotts, thus refers to Auld Wat of Harden and his famous son—
“The stout and valiant Walter ScottOf Harden who can never die,But live by fame to the tenth degree;He became both able, strong, and stout,Married Philip’s daughter, squire of Dryhope,Which was an ancient family,And many broad lands enjoyed he;Betwixt these Scotts was procreat,That much renowned Sir William Scott,I need not to explain his name,Because he ever lives by fame;He was a man of port and rank,He married Sir Gideon Murray’s daughter of Elibank.”
The fortunes of other famous reivers have formed the theme of many a stirring ballad. The so-called historical data on which many of these ballads are professedly based, may often, no doubt, be truthfully described as more imaginary than real, nevertheless the picture which the balladist has drawn is often deeply interesting, and subserves an important end by indicating the feeling with which these men and their deeds were usually regarded.
In a history of Border reiving such side-lights as the ballads afford may be profitably utilized.
Maitland, in his celebrated poem on the Thieves of Liddesdale, makes allusion to a well known character who is known to fame as “Jock o’ the Syde.” He was nephew to the “Laird of Mangerton,” and cousin to the “Laird’s Ain Jock,” and had all the enthusiasm of his race for the calling to which the members of his clan seem to have devoted their somewhat remarkable talents.—
He never tyrisFor to brek byrisOur muir and myrisOuir gude ane guide.
It is said that he assisted the Earl of Westmorelandin his escape, after his unfortunate insurrection with the Earl of Northumberland, in the twelfth year of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. But according to the balladist his career, on one occasion, had well nigh terminated disastrously. In the company of some of his friends he had made a raid into Northumberland. Here he was taken prisoner by the warden, and thrown into jail at Newcastle, there to “bide his doom.” He knew that he would not have long to wait. Not much time was wasted in considering the various items of the indictment, more especially when the accused was a well-known thief. “Jeddart justice” was not confined to the small burgh on the Scottish Border. It was as popular, at that time, in England as anywhere else, as many a Scottish reiver has known to his cost. The friends of the prisoner were fully aware that if he was to be saved from the gallows, not one moment must be lost. A rescue party was speedily organized. The laird of Mangerton, accompanied by a few friends—the Laird’s Jock, the Laird’s Wat, and the famous Hobbie Noble (an Englishman who had been banished from Bewcastle)—started off for Newcastle with all speed, determined to bring the prisoner back with them, quick or dead. To allay suspicion and avoid detection, they shod their horses “the wrang way”—putting the tip of the shoe behind the frog—and arrayed themselves like country lads, or “corn caugers[104]ga’en the road.” When they reachedCholerford, near Hexham, they alighted and cut a tree—“wi’ the help o’ the light o’ the moon”—on which were fifteen nogs or notches, by which they hoped “to scale the wa’ o’ Newcastle toun.” But, as so often happened in like circumstances, this improvised ladder was “three ells too laigh.” Such trifles, however, rarely ever proved disconcerting. The bold reivers at once determined to force the gate. A stout porter endeavoured to drive them back, but—
“His neck in twa the Armstrongs wrang;Wi’ fute or hand he ne’er played pa!His life and his keys at once they hae ta’en,And cast his body ahint the wa’.”
The path being now clear they speedily made their way to the prison, where they found their friend groaning under fifteen stones of Spanish iron (nothing short of this would have availed to keep a stark Scottish reiver, fed on oatmeal, within the confines of a prison cell), carried him off, irons and all, set him on a horse, with both feet on one side, and rode off with the fleetness of the wind in the direction of Liddesdale:
“The night tho’ wat, they didna mind,But hied them on fu’ merrilie,Until they cam’ to Cholerford brae,Where the water ran like mountains hie.”
Dashing into the stream they soon reached the opposite bank. The English, who were in hot pursuit, when they reached the Tyne, which was rolling alongin glorious flood, durst not venture further. They were filled with chagrin when they saw the prisoner, loaded as he was with fifteen stones of good Spanish iron, safe on the other side. They had sustained a double loss. The prisoner was gone, and he had taken his valuable iron chains with him. The land-sergeant, or warden’s officer, taking in the situation at a glance, cried aloud—
“The prisoner take,But leave the fetters, I pray, to me.”
To which polite request the Laird’s ain Jock replied—
“I wat weel no,I’ll keep them a’; shoon to my mare they’ll be,My gude bay mare—for I am sure,She bought them a’ right dear frae thee.”
No Liddesdale reiver was ever likely to part with anything in a hurry, least of all to give it up to an Englishman.
The Armstrongs, almost without exception, were noted thieves. They seem to have possessed a rare genius for reiving. Their plans were generally so well formed, and carried out with such a fine combination of daring and cunning, that the “enemy” almost invariably came off “second best.” One of the last, and most noted of this reiving clan, wasWilliam Armstrong, a lineal descendant of the famous Johnie of Gilnockie, who was known on the Borders by the name ofChristie’s Will, to distinguish him from the other members of his family and clan. He flourishedduring the reign of Charles I., a circumstance which shows that moss-trooping did not altogether cease at the union of the Crowns. It is related that, on one occasion, Christie’s Will had got into trouble, and was imprisoned in the Tolbooth of Jedburgh. The Lord High Treasurer, the Earl of Traquair, who was visiting in the district, was led to enquire as to the cause of his confinement. The prisoner told him, with a pitiful expression of countenance, that he had got into grief for stealing twotethers(halters). The eminent statesman was astonished to hear that such a trivial offence had been so severely punished, and pressed him to say if this was the only crime he had committed. He ultimately reluctantly acknowledged that there were twodelicate coltsat the end of them! This bit of pleasantry pleased his lordship, and through his intercession the culprit was released from his imprisonment.
It was a fortunate thing for Lord Traquair that he acted as he did. A short time afterwards he was glad to avail himself of the services of the man whom he had thus been the means of setting at liberty. The story is one of the most romantic on record, and amply justifies the adage that “truth is stranger than fiction.” A case, in which the Earl was deeply interested, was pending in the Court of Session. It was believed that the judgment would turn on the decision of the presiding judge, who has a casting vote in thecase of an equal division among his brethren. It was known that the opinion of the president was unfavourable to Traquair; and the point was, therefore, to keep him out of the way when the question should be tried. In this dilemma the Earl had recourse to Christie’s Will, who at once offered his services tokidnapthe president. He discovered that it was the judge’s usual practice to take the air on horseback, on the sands of Leith, without an attendant. One day he accosted the president, and engaged him in conversation. His talk was so interesting and amusing that he succeeded in decoying him into an unfrequented and furzy common, called the Frigate Whins, where, riding suddenly up to him, he pulled him from his horse, muffled him in a large cloak which he had provided, and rode off with the luckless judge trussed up behind him. Hurrying across country as fast as his horse could carry him, by paths known only to persons of his description, he at last deposited his heavy and terrified burden in an old castle in Annandale, called the Tower of Graham. The judge’s horse being found, it was concluded he had thrown his rider into the sea; his friends went into mourning, and a successor was appointed to his office. Meanwhile the disconsolate president had a sad time of it in the vault of the castle. His food was handed to him through an aperture in the wall, and never hearing the sound of human voice, save when ashepherd called his dog, by the name ofBatty, and when a female domestic called uponMaudge, the cat. These, he concluded, were invocations of spirits, for he held himself to be in the dungeon of a sorcerer. The law suit having been decided in favour of Lord Traquair, Christie’s Will was directed to set the president at liberty, three months having elapsed since he was so mysteriously spirited away from the sands at Leith. Without speaking a single word, Will entered the vault in the dead of night, again muffled up in the president’s cloak, set him on a horse, and rode off with him to the place where he had found him. The joy of his friends, and the less agreeable surprise of his successor, may be more easily imagined than described, when the judge appeared in court to reclaim his office and honours. All embraced his own persuasion that he had been spirited away by witchcraft; nor could he himself be convinced to the contrary, until, many years afterwards, happening to travel in Annandale, his ears were saluted once more with the sounds ofMaudgeandBatty—the only notes which had reached him during his long confinement. This led to the discovery of the whole story, but in those disorderly times it was only laughed at as a fairruse de guerre.[105]
The victim of this extraordinary stratagem was Sir Alexander Gibson, better known as Lord Durie. Hebecame a Lord of Session in 1621, and died in 1646, so that the incident here related must have taken place betwixt these periods.
The version of this incident, given in the well, known ballad “Christie’s Will,” if not so romantic as the foregoing, is certainly more amusing. The balladist represents Lord Traquair as “sitting mournfullie,” afraid lest the vote of the Court of Session would make him bare at once of land and living—
“But if auld Durie to heaven were flown,Or if auld Durie to hell were gane,Or ... if he could be but ten days stoun ...My bonnie braid lands would still be my ain.
At this juncture Christie’s Will offers his services—
“O, mony a time, my Lord,” he said,“I’ve stown the horse frae the sleeping loun;But for you I’ll steal a beast as braid,For I’ll steal Lord Durie frae Edinburgh toun.”“O, mony a time, my Lord,” he said,“I’ve stown a kiss frae a sleeping wench;But for you I’ll do as kittle a deed,For I’ll steal an auld lurdane off the bench.”He lighted at Lord Durie’s door,And there he knocked maist manfullie;And up and spake Lord Durie sae stour,“What tidings, thou stalwart groom, to me?”“The fairest lady in Teviotdale,Has sent, maist reverent sir, for thee.She pleas at the Session for her land a’ hail,And fain she would plead her cause to thee.”“But how can I to that lady rideWith saving of my dignitie?”“O a curch and mantle ye may wear,And in my cloak ye sall muffled be.”Wi’ curch on head, and cloak ower face,He mounted the judge on a palfrey fyne;He rode away, a right round pace,And Christie’s Will held the bridle reyne.The Lothian Edge they were not o’er,When they heard bugles bauldly ring,And, hunting over Middleton Moor,They met, I ween, our noble king.When Willie looked upon our king,I wot a frightened man was he!But ever auld Durie was startled more,For tyning of his dignitie.The king he crossed himself, I wis,When as the pair came riding bye—“An uglier croon, and a sturdier loon,I think, were never seen with eye.”Willie has hied to the tower of Græme,He took auld Durie on his back,He shot him down to the dungeon deep,Which garr’d his auld banes gae mony a crack.······The king has caused a bill be wrote,And he has set it on the Tron—“He that will bring Lord Durie backShall have five hundred merks and one.”Traquair has written a braid letter,And he has seal’d it wi’ his seal,“Ye may let the auld Brock out o’ the poke;The land’s my ain, and a’s gane weel.”O Will has mounted his bony black,And to the tower of Græme did trudge,And once again, on his sturdy back,Has he hente up the weary judge.He brought him to the Council stairs,And there full loudly shouted he,“Gie me my guerdon, my sovereign liege,And take ye back your auld Durie!”
Important as this service was, it was not the only one that Christie’s Willie rendered to the Earl of Traquair. He was sent, on one occasion, with important papers to Charles I., and received an answer to deliver, which he was strictly charged to place in the hands of his patron. “But in the meantime,” says Sir Walter Scott, “his embassy had taken air, and Cromwell had despatched orders to entrap him at Carlisle. Christie’s Will, unconscious of his danger, halted in the town to refresh his horse, and then pursued his journey. But as soon as he began to pass the long, high, and narrow bridge that crosses the Eden at Carlisle, either end of the pass was occupied by parliamentary soldiers, who were lying in wait for him. The Borderer disdained to resign his enterprise, even in these desperate circumstances; and at once forming his resolution, spurred his horse over the parapet. The river was in high flood. Will sunk—the soldiers shouted—he emerged again, and, guiding his horse to a steep bank, called the Stanners, or Stanhouse, endeavoured to land, but ineffectually, owing to his heavy horseman’s cloak, now drenched in water. Will cut the loop, and the horse, feeling himself disembarrassed, made a desperate exertion, and succeeded in gaining the bank. Our hero set off, atfull speed, pursued by the troopers, who had for a time stood motionless in astonishment, at his temerity. Will, however, was well mounted; and, having got the start, he kept it, menacing with his pistols, any pursuer who seemed likely to gain on him—an artifice which succeeded, although the arms were wet and useless. He was chased to the river Esk, which he swam without hesitation, and, finding himself on Scottish ground, and in the neighbourhood of friends, he turned on the northern bank, and with the true spirit of the Borderer, invited his followers to come through and drink with him. After this taunt he proceeded on his journey, and faithfully accomplished his mission.”[106]
If Christie’s Will may be regarded as the last Border freebooter of any note, it is evident that the peculiar genius of the family to which he belonged survived in full vigour to the end.
But the last of the Armstrongs who paid the penalty of death for his misdeeds wasWillie of Westburnflat. It is said that a gentleman of property, having lost twelve cows in one night, raised the country of Teviotdale, and traced the robbers into Liddesdale, as far as the house of Westburnflat. Fortunately, perhaps, for his pursuers, Willie was asleep when they came, and consequently without much difficulty they secured him, and nine of his friends. They were tried inSelkirk, and though the jury did not discover any direct evidence against them to convict them of the special fact, they did not hesitate to bring in a verdict of guilty, on the ground of their general character as “notour thieves and limmers.” When sentence was pronounced, Willie sprang to his feet, and laying hold of the oaken chair on which he had been sitting, broke it in pieces, and called on his companions who were involved in the same doom, to stand behind him and he would fight his way out of Selkirk with these weapons. But, strange to relate, they held his hands, and besought him to let themdie like Christians. They were accordingly executed in due form of law. This incident is said to have happened at the last circuit court held in Selkirk.[107]
Willie Armstrong, as he stood under the gallows-tree, might appropriately have sung the lines composed byRingan’s Sandi, a relative of his own, who was executed for the murder of Sir John Carmichael, the warden of the Middle Marches—
This night is my departing night,For here nae langer must I stay;There’s neither friend nor foe o’ mine,But wishes me away.What I have done through lack of wit,I never, never can recall;I hope ye’re a’ my friends as yet;Good night, and joy be with you all!
As might be expected, the existence of such an extraordinary phenomenon as Border reiving did not escape the attention of the Church. Such a peculiar state of affairs could not be regarded with favour, or treated with indifference. It may be said, no doubt, that the continued existence of such an abnormally lawless and chaotic condition of society on the Borders indicated that the ecclesiasticalauthorities were either singularly inept, or reprehensibly careless. Why was some attempt not made long before to curb the lawless spirit of the Border reivers? With the exception of the “monition of cursing” by Gavin Dunbar, Archbishop of Glasgow, little or nothing seems to have been done by the Church to stem the tide of Border lawlessness.
In dealing, however, with this phase of the question, there are several considerations which ought to be borne in mind. First of all, it ought to be remembered that while Border reiving was carried on with more or less persistence for some hundreds of years it did not attain really portentous dimensions till well on towards the close of the fifteenth century. Prior to the time of the Jameses, the two countries may be said to have been almost constantly at war. Invasion followed invasion, on the one side and on the other, with a kind of periodic regularity. From the time of James I., onwards to the union of the Crowns in 1603, such invasions, at least on the same large and destructive scale, became less frequent; though, in the intervals of peace, the Borderers kept themselves busy harassing and despoiling each other. This period of comparative calm, it may be remarked, is also synchronous with the decadence of Romanism. From the time of Queen Margaret, of pious memory, to the death of Robert III., the Romish Church enjoyed a period of signal prosperity. Abbeys andmonasteries, many of them buildings of great architectural beauty, were erected in different parts of the country, and became important centres of moral and religious authority and influence. Whatever opinion may be entertained regarding Romanism, whether regarded from an ecclesiastical or theological standpoint, the majority of fairly unprejudiced students will be ready to admit that the system was, in many respects, admirably adapted to the circumstances of the country at that particular stage of its development. A strong hand was needed to curb and guide the lawless and turbulent factions of which the nation was composed. It is more than doubtful if, under any other ecclesiastical system—bad as things were—the same beneficent results would have been attained.
But powerful as the Romish Church was in the country, in the heyday of its prosperity, it never attained the same undisputed sway in Scotland which marked its history in other countries, especially on the Continent. The reason of this is not difficult to discover, though it must be sought for far back in the religious history of the people. The Celtic Church, founded by St. Columba, was neither in doctrine nor polity exactly on Roman Catholic lines. It sought in the East rather than in the West, in Ephesus rather than Rome, its ideals of worship and doctrine. Romanism succeeded in establishing itself only after a long and arduous struggle. And when at lastvictory had been achieved, and the Church in Scotland had been Romanized, it was discovered that while the form had changed, the spirit of the older Church still survived, and when occasion arose, made itself felt in no uncertain manner. There can be no question that the influence of the Celtic Church continued long after the Church itself had passed away. It is a noteworthy fact that neither the rulers of the people, nor those over whom they exercised authority, were prepared to submitimplicitlyto the dictation of the Romish see. Their obedience to the great temporal head of the Catholic religion was never either servile or unlimited. They were prepared to take their own way in many things, treating often with much indifference the fulminations of their spiritual superiors. Many illustrations of this tendency may be found in the history of the country. On one occasion, for example, William the Lion appointed his chaplain to the Bishopric of St. Andrews. An English monk was chosen by the Chapter to the same office, and thus a complete deadlock was brought about. What was to be done? The ecclesiastical authorities appealed to the Pope, who was indignant when he learned that the authority of the Church was being thus rudely trampled upon. He conferred legatine powers on the Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of Durham, to “direct the thunder of excommunication” against the King inthe event of contumacy. But notwithstanding the extreme gravity of the situation the King stubbornly refused to yield. He not only set the papal authority at defiance, but he banished from the country those who dared to yield to the papal favourite.
This is not, by any means, an isolated instance of stubborn and successful resistance to the authority of the Church. The same thing, in other circumstances, occurred again and again, with the result that the terrors of excommunication ceased to be dreaded.
This, of course, was especially the case during the decadent period of the Catholicregime. There are numerous indications in the literature of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries of this weakening of the ecclesiastical authority. The picture which Sir David Lindsay has drawn of the condition of the Church at this period is no mere spiteful exaggeration, but may be accepted as substantially accurate. Nothing could well more clearly indicate how thoroughly the Church had failed to keep in touch with the intellectual life of the nation, or guide and control its moral and spiritual activities.
It was during this period of weakness, almost of total moral collapse, that the Archbishop of Glasgow took it upon him to excommunicate the Border thieves. Had the same vigorous measure been adopted at an earlier period, the result might have been more favourable. As it was, the launching ofthis ecclesiastical thunderbolt really created more amusement than consternation. It was regarded simply as the growl of a toothless lion. In no circumstances were the Border reivers easily intimidated. Their calling had made them more or less indifferent to the claims alike of Church and State. They had never had much affection for the king, and they had, perhaps, still less for the priest. Having shaken themselves free, to a large extent at least, from the control of the State, they were not prepared to put their neck under the yoke of an ecclesiastical authority which even the best men of the age had ceased to venerate. But the Archbishop felt that he had a duty to discharge, and he applied himself to the task with commendable vigour. It may be well to explain that there are two forms of excommunication—excommunicatio majorandexcommunicatio minor. The former mode of excommunication is one of which we in these days happily know nothing, as it can only be effectively carried out with the approval and assistance of the State, which in modern times would never be granted. But the latter form is still common. It has been retained in the Church as a point of discipline, or, to use a well known and significant theological phrase, as apoena medicinalis. The major excommunication was a frightful weapon, and might well be dreaded. Those who suffered the greater excommunication were excluded from the Mass, from burial in consecratedground, from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and practically from all intercourse with their fellow Christians. They were, in short, handed over body and soul to the devil.
The “Monition of Cursing,” issued by the Archbishop of Glasgow against the Border thieves, was ordered to be read from every pulpit in the diocese, and circulated throughout the length and breadth of the Borders. It is a curious document, and will, doubtless, be read with interest, if not with profit. It was expressed in the following terms:—
“Gude folks, heir at my Lord Archibischop of Glasgwis letters under his round sele, direct to me or any uther chapellane, makand mensioun, with greit regrait, how hevy he beris the pietous, lamentabill, and dolorous complaint that pass our all realme and cummis to his eris, be oppin voce and fame, how our souverane lordis trew liegis, men, wiffis and barnys, bocht and redemit be the precious blude of our Salviour Jhesu Crist, and levand in his lawis, ar saikleslie[108]part murdrist, part slayne, brynt, heryit, spulzeit and reft, oppinly on day licht and under silens of the nicht, and thair takis[109]and landis laid waist, and thair self banyst therfra, als wele kirklandis as utheris, be commoun tratouris, revaris,[110]theiffis, duelland in the south part of this realme, sic asTevidale, Esdale, Liddisdale, Ewisdale, Nedisdale, and Annanderdaill; quhilkis hes bene diverse ways persewit and punist be the temperale swerd and our Soverane Lordis auctorite, and dredis nocht the samyn.
“And thairfoir my said Lord Archibischop of Glasgw hes thocht expedient to strike thame with the terribill swerd of halykirk, quhilk thai may nocht lang endur and resist; and hes chargeit me, or any uther chapellane, to denounce, declair and proclame thaim oppinly and generalie cursit, at this marketcroce, and all utheris public places.
“Heirfor throw the auctorite of Almichty God, the Fader of hevin, his Son, our Salviour, Jhesu Crist, and of the Halygaist; throw the auctorite of the Blissit Virgin Sanct Mary, Sanct Michael, Sanct Gabriell, and all the angellis; Sanct John the Baptist, and all the haly patriarkis and prophets; Sanct Peter, Sanct Paull, Sanct Andro, and all haly appostillis; Sanct Stephin, Sanct Laurence, and all haly mertheris[111]; Sanct Gile, Sanct Martyn, and all haly confessouris; Sanct Anne, Sanct Katherin, and all haly virginis and matronis; and of all the sanctis and haly cumpany of hevin; be the auctorite of our Haly Fader the Paip and his cardinalis, and of my said Lord Archibischop of Glasgw, be the avise and assistance of my lordis, archibischop, bischopis,abbotis, priouris, and utheris prelatis and ministeris of halykirk, Idenounce,proclamis, anddeclarisall and sindry the committaris of the said saikles murthris, slauchteris, brinying, heirschippes, reiffis, thiftis, and spulezeis, oppinly apon day licht and under silence of nicht, alswele within temporale landis as kirklandis; togither with thair part takaris, assistaris, supplearis, wittandlie resettaris of thair personis, the gudes reft and stollen be thaim, art or part thereof, and their counsalouris and defendouris, of thair evil dedis generalie cursit, waryit,[112]aggregeite, and reaggregeite, with the greit cursing.
“Icursethair heid and all the haris of thair heid; Icursethair face, thair ene, thair mouth, thair neise, thair toung, thair teith, thair crag, thair schulderis, thair breist, thair hert, thair stomok, thair bak, thair wame, thair armes, thair leggis, thair handis, thair feit, and everilk part of thair body, frae the top of thair heid to the soill of thair feit, befoir and behind, within and without. Icursethaim gangand, and Icursethaim rydand; Icursethaim standand, and Icursethaim sittand; Icursethaim etand, Icursethaim drinkand; Icursethaim walkand,[113]Icursethaim sleepand; Icursethaim rysand, Icursethaim lyand; Icursethaim at hame, Icursethaim fra hame; Icursethaim within the house, Icursethaim without the house; Icursethair wiffis,thair banris, and thair servandis participand with thaim in thair deides. Iwary[114]thair cornys, thair catales, thair woll, thair scheip, thair horse, thair swyne, thair geise, thair hennys, and all thair quyk gude.[115]Iwarythair hallis, thair chalmeris, thair kechingis, thair stabillis, thair barnys, thair biris, thair bernyardis, thair cailyardis, thair plewis, thair harrowis, and the gudis and housis that is necessair for thair sustentatioun and weilfair. All the malesouns and waresouns[116]that ever gat warldlie creatur sen the begynnyng of the warlde to this hour mot licht apon thaim. The maledictioun of God, that lichtit apon Lucifer and all his fallowis, that strak thaim frae the hie hevin to the deip hell, mot licht apon thaim. The fire and the swerd that stoppit Adam fra the yettis of Paradise, mot stop thaim frae the gloir of Hevin, quhill[117]thai forbere and mak amendis. The malesoun that lichtit on cursit Cayein, quhen he slew his bruther just Abell saiklessly, mot licht on thaim for the saikles slauchter that thai commit dailie. The maledictioun that lichtit apon all the warlde, man and beist, and all that ever tuk life, quhen all wes drownit be the flude of Noye, except Noye and his ark, mot licht apon thame and droune thame, man and beist, and mak this realm cummirles[118]of thame for thair wicket synnys. The thunnour and fireflauchtis[119]thatξet doun as rane apon the cities of Zodoma and Gomora, with all the landis about, and brynt thame for thair vile synnys, mot rane apon thame, and birne thaim for oppin synnys. The malesoun and confusioun that lichtit on the Gigantis for thair oppressioun and pride, biggand the tour of Babiloun, mot confound thaim and all thair werkis, for thair oppin reiffs and oppressioun. All the plagis that fell apon Pharao and his pepill of Egipt, thair landis, corne and cataill, mot fall apon thaim, thair takkis, rowmys[120]and stedingis, cornys and beistis. The watter of Tweid and utheris watteris quhair thai ride mot droun thaim, as the Reid Sey drownit King Pharao and his pepil of Egipt, persewing Godis pepill of Israell. The erd mot oppin, riffe and cleiff,[121]and swelly thaim quyk[122]to hell, as it swellyit cursit Dathan and Abiron, that ganestude Moeses and the command of God. The wyld fyre that byrnt Thore and his fallowis to the nowmer of twa hundreth and fyty, and utheris 14,000 and 700 at anys, usurpand aganis Moyses and Araon, servandis of God, mot suddanely birne and consume thaim dailie ganestandand the commandis of God and halykirk. The maledictioun that lichtit suddanely upon fair Absolon, rydand contrair his fader, King David, servand of God, throw the wod, quhen the branchis of ane tre fred[123]him of his horse and hangithim be the hair, mot licht apon thaim, rydand agane trewe Scottis men, and hang thaim siclike that all the warld may se. The maledictioun that lichtit apon Olifernus, lieutenant to Nabogodonoser, makand weir and heirschippis apon trew cristin [sic] men; the maledictioun that lichtit apon Judas, Pylot, Herod, and the Jowis that crucifyit Our Lord, and all the plagis and trublis that lichtit on the citte of Jherusalem thairfor, and upon Symon Magus for his symony, bludy Nero, cursit Ditius Makcensius, Olibruis, Julianus, Apostita and the laiff of the cruell tirrannis that slew and murthirit Cristis haly servandis, mot licht apon thame for thair cruell tiranny and murthirdome of cristin pepill. And all the vengeance that ever wes takin sen the warlde began for oppin synnys, and all the plagis and pestilence that ever fell on man or beist, mot fall on thaim for thair oppin reiff, saiklesse slauchter and schedding of innocent blude. Idisseverandpairtisthaim fra the kirk of God, and deliveris thaim quyk to the devill of hell, as the Apostill Sanct Paull deliverit Corinthion. Iinterditethe places thay cum in fra divine service, ministracioun of the sacramentis of halykirk, except the sacrament of baptissing allanerllie;[124]and forbiddis all kirkmen to schriffe or absolve thaim of thaire synnys, quhill[125]they be first absolyeit of this cursing. Iforbidall cristin man or woman till have onycumpany with thaime, etand, drynkand, spekand, prayand, lyand, gangand, standand, or in any uther deid doand, under the paine of deidly syn. Idischargeall bandis, actis, contractis, athis, and obligatiounis made to thaim be ony persounis, outher of lawte,[126]kyndenes or manrent, salang as thai susteine this cursing; sua that na man be bundin to thaim, and that thai be bundin till all men. Itakfra thame and cryis doune all the gude dedis that ever thai did or sall do, quhill thai ryse frae this cursing. Ideclarethaim partles[127]of all matynys, messis, evinsangis, dirigeis or utheris prayeris, on buke or beid; of all pilgrimagis and almouse dedis done or to be done in halykirk or be cristin pepill, enduring this cursing.