Sic destanie and derfe devoring deid
Oft his own hous in hazard put of auld;
Bot your forbeiris, frovard fortounes steid
And bitter blastes, ay buir with breistis bauld;
Luit wanweirdis work and walter ay they wald,
Thair hardie hairtis hawtie and heroik,
For fortounes feid or force wald never fauld;
Bot stormis withstand with stomak stoat and stoik.
Renowned Richert of your race record,
Quhais prais and prowis cannot be exprest;
Mair lustie lynyage nevir haid ane lord,
For he begat the bauldest bairnis and best,
Maist manful men, and madinis maist modest,
That ever wes syn Pyramus tym of Troy,
But piteouslie thai peirles perles apest.
Bereft him all hot Buird-allane, a boy.
[18]
Himselfe was aiget, his hous hang be a har,
Duill and distres almaist to deid him draife;
Yet Burd-allane, his only son and air,
As wretched, vyiss, and valient, as the laive,
His hous uphail'd, quhilk ye with honor haive.
So nature that the lyk invyand name,[85]
In kindlie cair dois kindly courage craif,
To follow him in fortoune and in fame.
Richerd he wes, Richerd ye are also,
And Maitland als, and magnanime as he;
In als great age, als wrappit are in wo,
Sewin sons[86]ye haid might contravaill his thrie,
Bot Burd-allane ye haive behind as he:
The lord his linage so inlarge in lyne,
And mony hundreith nepotis grie and grie[87]
Sen Richert wes as hundreth yeiris are hyne.
An Consolator Ballad to the Richt Honorabill Sir Richert Maitland of Lethingtoune.
—Maitland MSS. in Library of Edinburgh University.
Sir William Mautlant, or Maitland, the eldest and sole surviving son of Sir Richard, ratified and confirmed, to the monks of Dryburgh,[19]"Omnes terras quas Dominus Ricardus de Mautlant pater suus fecit dictis monachisin territorio suo de Thirlestane," Sir William is supposed to have died about 1315.—Crawford's Peerage.
Such were the heroes of the ballad. The castle of Thirlestane is situated upon the Leader, near the town of Lauder. Whether the present building, which was erected by Chancellor Maitland, and improved by the Duke of Lauderdale, occupies the site of the ancient castle, I do not know; but it still merits the epithet of a "darksome house." I find no notice of the siege in history; but there is nothing improbable in supposing, that the castle, during the stormy period of the Baliol wars, may have held out against the English. The creation of a nephew of Edward I., for the pleasure of slaying him by the hand of young Maitland, is a poetical licence[88]; and may induce us to place the date of the composition about the reign of David II., or of his successor, when the real exploits of Maitland, and his sons, were in some degree obscured, as well as magnified, by the lapse of time. The inveterate hatred against the English, founded upon the usurpation of Edward I., glows in every line of the ballad.
Auld Maitland is placed, by Gawain Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld, among the popular heroes of romance, in his allegorical Palice of Honour[89]:
[20]
I Saw Raf Coilyear with his thrawin brow,
Crabit John the Reif, and auld Cowkilbeis Sow;
And how the wran cam out of Ailsay,
And Peirs Plowman[90], that meid his workmen few;
Gret Gowmacmorne, and Fyn MacCowl, and how
They suld be goddis in Ireland, as they say.
Thair saw I Maitland upon auld beird gray,
Robine Hude, and Gilbert with the quhite hand,
How Hay of Nauchton flew in Madin land.
In this curious verse, the most noted romances, or popular histories, of the poet's day, seem to be noticed. The preceding stanza describes the sports of the field; and that, which follows, refers to the tricks of "jugailrie;" so that the three verses comprehend the whole pastimes of the middle ages, which are aptly represented as the furniture of dame Venus's chamber. The verse, referring to Maitland, is obviously corrupted; the true reading was, probably, "with hisauld beird[21]gray." Indeed the whole verse is full of errors and corruptions; which is the greater pity, as it conveys information, to be found no where else.
The descendant of Auld Maitland, Sir Richard of Lethington, seems to have been frequently complimented on the popular renown of his great ancestor. We have already seen one instance; and in an elegant copy of verses in the Maitland MSS., in praise of Sir Richard's seat of Lethingtoun, which he had built, or greatly improved, this obvious topic of flattery does not escape the poet. From the terms of his panegyric we learn, that the exploits of auld Sir Richard with the gray beard, and of his three sons, were "sung in many far countrie, albeit in rural rhyme;" from which we may infer, that they were narrated rather in the shape of a popular ballad, than in aromance of price. If this be the case, the song, now published, may have undergone little variation since the date of the Maitland MSS.; for, divesting the poem, in praise of Lethington, of its antique spelling, it would run as smoothly, and appear as modern, as any verse in the following ballad. The lines alluded to, are addressed to the castle of Lethington:
And happie art thou sic a place,
That few thy mak ar sene:
But yit mair happie far that race
To quhome thou dois pertene.
Quha dais not knaw the Maitland bluid,
The best in all this land?
In quhilk sumtyme the honour stuid
And worship of Scotland.
[22]
Of auld Sir Richard, of that name,
We have hard sing and say;
Of his triumphant nobill fame,
And of his auld baird gray.
And of his nobill sonnis three,
Quhilk that tyme had no maik;
Quhilk maid Scotland renounit be,
And all England to quaik.
Quhais luifing praysis, maid trewlie,
Efter that simple tyme,
Ar sung in monie far countrie,
Albeit in rural rhyme.
And, gif I dar the treuth declair,
And nane me fleitschour call,
I can to him find a compair,
And till his barnis all.
It is a curious circumstance, that this interesting tale, so often referred to by ancient authors, should be now recovered in so perfect a state; and many readers may be pleased to see the following sensible observations, made by a person, born in Ettrick Forest, in the humble situation of a shepherd. "I am surprised to hear, that this song is suspected by some to be a modern forgery; the contrary will be best proved, by most of the old people, hereabouts, having a great part of it by heart. Many, indeed, are not aware of the manners of this country; till this present age, the poor illiterate people, in these glens, knew of no other entertainment, in the long winter nights, than repeating, and listening to, the feats of their ancestors, recorded in songs, which I believe to be handed down, from father to son, for many[23]generations; although, no doubt, had a copy been taken, at the end of every fifty years, there must have been some difference, occasioned by the gradual change of language. I believe it is thus that many very ancient songs have been gradually modernised, to the common ear; while, to the connoisseur, they present marks of their genuine antiquity."—Letter to the Editor from Mr. James Hogg. To the observations of my ingenious correspondent I have nothing to add, but that, in this, and a thousand other instances, they accurately coincide with my personal knowledge.
[24]
There lived a king in southern land,
King Edward hight his name;
Unwordily he wore the crown,
Till fifty years were gane.
He had a sister's son o's ain,
Was large of blood and bane;
And afterward, when he came up,
Young Edward hight his name.
One day he came before the king,
And kneel'd low on his knee—
"A boon, a boon, my good uncle,
"I crave to ask of thee!
[25]
"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,
"I fain hae wished to be;
"If fifteen hundred waled[91]wight men
"You'll grant to ride wi' me."
"Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae mae;
"I say it sickerlie;
"And I mysell, an auld gray man,
"Array'd your host sall see."
King Edward rade, King Edward ran—
I wish him dool and pyne!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.
And thrice as many at Berwicke[92]
Were all for battle bound,
Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,
A ready welcome found.
They lighted on the banks of Tweed,
And blew their coals sae het,
And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,
All in an evening late.
[26]
As they fared up o'er Lammermore,
They burned baith up and down,
Until they came to a darksome house;
Some call it Leader-Town.
"Wha hauds this house?" young Edward cry'd,
"Or wha gies't ower to me?"
A gray-hair'd knight set up his head,
And crackit right crousely:
"Of Scotland's king I haud my house;
"He pays me meat and fee;
"And I will keep my gude auld house,
"While my house will keep me."
They laid their sowies to the wall,
Wi' mony a heavy peal;
But he threw ower to them agen
Baith pitch and tar barrel.
With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn,
Amang them fast he threw;
Till mony of the Englishmen
About the wall he slew.
[27]
Full fifteen days that braid host lay,
Sieging Auld Maitland keen,
Syne they hae left him, hail and fair,
Within his strength of stane.
Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,
Met them upon a day,
Which they did lade with as much spoil
As they could bear away.
"England's our ain by heritage;
"And what can us withstand,
"Now we hae conquer'd fair Scotland,
"With buckler, bow, and brand?"
Then they are on to the land o' France,
Where auld King Edward lay,
Burning baith castle, tower, and town,
That he met in his way,
Untill he came unto that town,
Which some call Billop-Grace;
There were Auld Maitland's sons, a' three,
Learning at school, alas!
[28]
The eldest to the youngest said,
"O see ye what I see?
"Gin a' be trew yon standard says[93],
"We're fatherlesse a' three.
"For Scotland's conquer'd, up and down;
"Landmen we'll never be:
"Now, will ye go, my brethren two,
"And try some jeopardy?"
Then they hae saddled twa black horse,
Twa black horse, and a grey;
And they are on to King Edward's host,
Before the dawn of day.
When they arriv'd before the host,
They hover'd on the lay—
"Wilt thou lend me our king's standard,
"To bear a little way?"
"Where was thou bred? where was thou born?
"Where, or in what countrie?"
"In north of England I was born:
(It needed him to lie.)
[29]
"A knight me gat, a lady bore,
"I'm a squire of high renowne;
I well may bear't to any king,
"That ever yet wore crowne."
"He ne'er came of an Englishman,
"Had sic an e'e or bree;
"But thou art the likest Auld Maitland,
"That ever I did see.
"But sick a gloom, on ae brow-head,
"Grant I ne'er see agane!
"For mony of our men he slew,
"And mony put to pain."
When Maitland heard his father's name,
An angry man was he!
Then, lifting up a gilt dagger,
Hung low down by his knee,
He stabb'd the knight, the standard bore,
He stabb'd him cruellie;
Then caught the standard by the neuk,
And fast away rode he.
[30]
"Now, is't na time, brothers," he cried,
"Now, is't na time to flee?"
"Aye, by my sooth!" they baith replied,
"We'll bear you company."