On his shield was a hound, in a silver leash bound, And his crest was a branch of the yew.""Thou liest, thou liest, thou little foot-page,

Loud dost thou lie to me!

For that knight is cold, and low laid in the mould, All under the Eildon-tree."

"Yet hear but my word, my noble lord! For I heard her name his name;

And that lady bright, she called the knight

Sir Richard of Coldinghame."

The bold Baron's brow then changed, I trow

From high blood-red to pale

"Alas! away, away!" she cried,
"For the holy Virgin's sake!".
"Lady, I know who sleeps by thy side;
But, lady, he will not awake.

"By Eildon-tree, for long nights three,
In bloody grave have I lain;

The mass and the death prayer are said for me, But, lady, they are said in vain.

"By the Baron's brand, near Tweed's fair strand, Most foully slain, I fell;

And my restless sprite on the beacon's height,
For a space is doomed to dwell.

and stark

I must wander to and fro;

But I had not had power to come to thy bower, Had'st thou not conjured me so.'

Love master'd fear-her brow she cross'

How, Richard, hast thou sped?

And art thou saved, or art thou lost?"The vision shook his head!

Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life;

So bid thy lord believe:

That lawless love is guilt above, This awful sign receive."

He found his lady fair.

That lady sat in mournful mood;

Look'd over hill and vale;

Over Tweed's fair flood, and Mertoun'st wood,
And all down Teviotdale.

"Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright!"
Now hail, thou Baron true!

What news, what news, from Ancram fight?
What news from the bold Buccleuch ?"—

"The Ancram Moor is red with gore,

For many a southern fell;

And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore,

To watch our beacons well."

The lady blush'd red, but nothing she said:

Nor added the Baron a word:

Then she stepp'd down the stair to her chamber fair, And so did her moody lord.

His right upon her hand;

The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk,
For it scorch'd like a fiery brand.

The sable score, of fingers four,

Remains on that board impress'd;
And for evermore that lady wore
A covering on her wrist.

There is a nun in Dryburgh bower,
Ne'er looks upon the sun;
There is a monk in Melrose tower,
He speaketh word to none.

That nun, who ne'er beholds the day,S
That monk, who speaks to none-
That nun was Smaylho'me's Lady gay,
That monk the bold Baron.

CADYOW CASTLE.

BY WALTER SCOTT.

THE ruins of Cadyow, or Cadzow Castle, the an cient baronial residence of the family of Hamilton,

And oft to himself he said,

Evan, about two miles above its junction with the Clyde. It was dismantled, in the conclusion of the

grave is deep

It cannot give up the dead!"

It was near the ringing of matin-bell,
The night was wellnigh done,
When a heavy sleep on that Baron fell,
On the eve of good St. John.

The lady look'd through the chamber fair,
By the light of a dying flame;
And she was aware of a knight stood there-
Sir Richard of Coldinghame!

p. 195.

* Eildon is a high hill, terminating in three conical summits, immediately above the town of Melrose, where are the admired ruins of a magnificent monastery. Eildon-tree is said to be the spot where Thomas the Rhymer uttered his prophecies. See * Mertoun is the beautiful sest of Hugh Scott, Esq. of Harden. 1 Trysting place-Place of rendezvous. The circumstance of the nun, "who never saw the day," is not entirely imaginary. About fifty years ago, an unfortunate female wanderer took up her residence in a dark vault, among the ruins of Dryburgh Abbey, which, during the day, she never quitted, When night fell, she issued from this miserable habitation, and went to the house of Mr. Haliburton of Newmains, the Editor's great-grandfather, or to that of Mr. Erskine of Sheilfield, two gentlemen of the neighbourhood. From their charity, she obtained such necessaries as she could be prevailed upon to accept. At twelve, each night, she lighted her candle, and returned to her

ry, to whose cause the house of Hamilton devoted themselves with a generous zeal, which occasioned their temporary obscurity, and, very nearly, their total ruin. The situation of the ruins, embosomed in wood, darkened by ivy and creeping shrubs, and overhanging the brawling torrent, is romantic in the highest degree. In the immediate vicinity of Cadyow is a grove of immense oaks, the remains of the Caledonian Forest, which anciently extended through the south of Scotland, from the eastern to the Atlantic Ocean. Some of these trees measure twentyfive feet, and upwards, in circumference; and the vault, assuring her friendly neighbours, that, during her absence, her habitation was arranged by a spirit, to whom she gave the uncouth name of Fatlips; describing him as a little man, wearing heavy iron shoes, with which he trampled the clay floor of the vault, to dispel the damps. This circumstance caused her to be regarded, by the well-informed, with compassion, as deranged in her understanding; and by the vulgar, with some degree of terror. The cause of her adopting this extraordinary mode of life she would never explain. It was, however, believed to have been occasioned by a vow, that, during the absence of a man to whom she was attached, she would never look upon the sun. Her lover never returned. He fell during the civil war of 1745-6, and she never more would behold the light of day.

The vault, or rather dungeon, in which this unfortunate woman lived and died, passes still by the name of the supernatural being, with which its gloom was tenanted by her disturbed imagination, and few of the neighbouring peasants dare enter it by night. 1803,

The ashler buttress braves its force,
And ramparts frown in battled row.
"Tis night-the shade of keep and spire
Obscurely dance on Evan's stream;
And on the wave the warder's fire

Is chequering the moonlight beam.
Fades slow their light; the east is gray;
The weary warder leaves his tower;
Steeds snort; uncoupled stag-hounds bay,
And merry hunters quit the bower.
The drawbridge falls-they hurry out
Clatters each plank and swinging chain,
As, dashing o'er, the jovial rout

Urge the shy steed, and slack the rein.
First of his troop, the Chief rode on ;*
His shouting merry-men throng behind;
The steed of princely Hamilton

Was fleeter than the mountain wind.
From the thick copse the roebucks bound,
The startled red-deer sends the plain,
For the hoarse bugle's warrior sound

Has roused their mountain haunts again. Through the huge oaks of Evandale,

Whose limbs a thousand years have worn,
What sullen roar comes down the gale,

And drowns the hunter's pealing horn?
Mightiest of all the beasts of chase
That roam in woody Caledon,
Crashing the forest in his race,

The Mountain Bull comes thundering on.
Fierce, on the hunter's quiver'd hand,
He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow,
Spurns with black hoof and horn, the sand,
And tosses high his mane of snow.
Aim'd well, the Chieftain's lance has flown;
Struggling in blood the savage lies;
His roar is sunk in hollow groan-
Sound, merry huntsmen! sound the Pryse!t
"Tis noon-against the knotted oak

The hunters rest the idle spear;
Curls through the trees the slender smoke,
Where yeomen dight the woodland cheer.
Proudly the Chieftain mark'd his clan,

On greenwood lap all careless thrown,
Yet miss'd his eye the boldest man,
That bore the name of Hamilton.
"Why fills not Bothwellhaugh his place,
Sull wont our weal and wo to share?
Why comes he not our sport to grace?

Why shares he not our hunter's fare?"*The head of the family of Hamilton, at this period, was James, Earl of Arran, Duke of Chatelherault, in France, and first peer of the Scottish realm. In 1569, he was appointed by Queen Mary her heutenant-general in Scotland, under the singular title of her adopted father.

Pryse-The note blown at the death of the game.--In Caledonia olim frequens erat sylvestris quidam bos, munc vero rarior, qui, colore candidissimo, jubam densam et demissam instar leonis gestat, truculentus ac ferus ab humano genere abborrens, ut quæcapqar homines vel manibus contrectarint, vel halitu perflaverint, ab us multos post dies omnino abstinuerunt. Adhoc tanta audacia huic bovi indita erat, ut non solum irritatus equites furenter prosterneret, sed ne tantillum lacessitus omnes promiscue homines cornibus ac ungulis peteret; ac canum, qui apud nos ferocissimi sunt, impetus plane contemneret. Ejus carnes cartilaginose, sed saporis suavissimi. Erat is olim per illam vastissimam Caledonie syiram frequens, sed humana ingluvie jam assumptus tribus tantam locis est reliquus. Strivilingü, Cumbernaldia, et Kincarnice.LESLEYS, Scotia Descriptio, p. 13.-[See a sote on Castle Dangerous, Waverley Novels, vol. v.-ED.]

: Lord Claud Hamilton, second son of the Duke of Chatelherault, and commendator of the Abbey of Paisley, acted a distinguished part during the troubles of Queen Mary's reign, and remained unalterably attached to the cause of that unfortunate princess. He led the van of her army at the fatal battle of Langside, and was one of the commanders at the Raid of Stirling, which had so nearly given complete success to the Queen's fac He was ancestor of the present Marquis of Abercorn. tion. This barony, stretching along the banks of the Esk, near Auchendinny, belonged to Bothwellhaugh, in right of his wife. The runs of the mansion, from whence she was expelled in the brutal manner which occasioned her death. are still to be seen in a hollow glen beside the river. Popular report tenants them with the restkas ghost of the Lady Bothwellhaugh; whom, however, it con

Stern Claud replied,‡ with darkening face, (Gray Paisley's haughty lord was he,) "At merry feast, or buxom chase,

No more the warrior wilt thou see.

"Few suns have set since Woodhouselees Saw Bothwellhaugh's bright goblets foam, When to his hearths, in social glee,

The war-worn soldier turn'd him home.
"There, wan from her maternal throes,
His Margaret, beautiful and mild,
Sate in her bower, a pallid rose,

And peaceful nursed her new-born child. "O change accursed! past are those days; False Murray's ruthless spoilers came, And, for the hearth's domestic blaze, Ascends destruction's volumed flame. "What sheeted phantom wanders wild, Where mountain Eske through woodland flows, Her arms unfold a shadowy childOh! is it she, the pallid rose?

"The wilder'd traveller sees her glide,

And hears her feeble voice with awe-
'Revenge,' she cries, on Murray's pride!
And wo for injured Bothwellhaugh!'"
He ceased-and cries of rage and grief
Burst mingling from the kindred band,
And half arose the kindling Chief,

And half unsheath'd his Arran brand.
But who, o'er bush, o'er stream and rock,
Rides headlong, with resistless speed,
Whose bloody poinard's frantic stroke
Drives to the leap his jaded steed;ll
Whose cheek is pale, whose eyeballs glare,
As one some vision'd sight that saw,
Whose hands are bloody, loose his hair?-
'Tis he! 'tis he! 'tis Bothwellhaugh.
From gory selle, T and reeling steed,

Sprung the fierce horseman with a bound, And, reeking from the recent deed,

He dash'd his carbine on the ground. Sternly he spoke-" "Tis sweet to hear In good greenwood the bugle blown, But sweeter to Revenge's ear,

To drink a tyrant's dying groan. "Your slaughter'd quarry proudly trode, At dawning morn, o'er dale and down, But prouder base-born Murray rode Through old Linlithgow's crowded town. "From the wild Border's humbled side, ** In haughty triumph, marched he,

founds with Lady Ann Bothwell, whose Lament is so popular. This spectre is so tenacious of her rights, that, a part of the stones of the ancient edifice having been employed in building or repair. ing the present Woodhouselee, she has deemed it a part of her privilege to haunt that house also; and, even of very late years, has excited considerable disturbance and terror among the do mestics. This is a more remarkable vindication of the rights of ghosts, as the present Woodhouselee, which gives his title to the Honourable Alexander Fraser Tytler, a senator of the College of Justice, is situated on the slope of the Pentland hills, distant at least four miles from her proper abode. She always appears in white, and with her child in her arms.

Birrel informs us, that Bothwellhaugh, being closely pursued, after that spur and wand had failed him, he drew forth his dagger, and strocke his horse behind, whilk caused the horse to lean a very brode stanke, [i. e. ditch,] by whilk means he escapit, and gat away from all the rest of the horses."-BIRREL's Diary. p. 18.

authors.

Selle-Saddle. A word used by Spenser, and other ancient **Murray's death took place shortly after an expedition to the Borders; which is thus commemorated by the author of his Elegy:

"So having stablischt all thing in this sort,
To Liddisdaill ngane he did resort,

Throw Ewisdaii, Eskdail, and all the daills rode he,
And also lay three nights in Cannabie,
Whair na prince lay thir hundred yeiris before.
Nac thief durst stir, they did him feir sa suir;
And, that thay suld na mair thair thift allege,
Threescore and twelf he brocht of thame in pledre,
Syne wardit thame, whilk maid the rest keep ordour;
Than mycht the rasch bus keep ky on the Border."

Scottish Poems, 16th century, p. 232.

While Knox relax'd his bigot pride,

And smiled, the traitorous pomp to see. "But can stern Power, with all his vaunt, Or Pomp, with all her courtly glare, The settled heart of Vengeance daunt, Or change the purpose of Despair? "With hackbut bent,* my secret stand, Dark as the purposed deed, I chose, And mark'd, where, mingling in his band, Troop'd Scottish pikes and English bows. "Dark Morton,† girt with many a spear, Murder's foul minion, led the van; And clash'd their broadswords in the rear The wild Macfarlanes' plaided clan.+ "Glencairn and stout Parkheads were nigh, Obsequious at their Regent's rein, And haggard Lindesay's iron eye,

That saw fair Mary weep in vain.Il "Mid pennon'd spears, a steely grove, Proud Murray's plumage floated high; Scarce could his trampling charger move, So close the minions crowded nigh. T "From the raised vizor's shade, his eye, Dark-rolling, glanced the ranks along, And his steel truncheon, waved on high, Seem'd marshalling the iron throng. "But yet his sadden'd brow confess'd

A passing shade of doubt and awe; Some fiend was whispering in his breast; 'Beware of injured Bothwellhaugh!' "The death-shot parts-the charger springsWild rises tumult's startling roar ! And Murray's plumy helmet rings

-Rings on the ground, to rise no more.

What joy the raptured youth can feel,
To hear her love the loved one tell-
Or he, who broaches on his steel
The wolf, by whom his infant fell!
"But dearer to my injured eye

To see in dust proud Murray roll;
And mine was ten times trebled joy,
To hear him groan his felon soul.

My Margaret's spectre glided near;
With pride her bleeding victim saw;
And shriek'd in his death-deafen'd ear,
'Remember injured Bothwellhaugh!
"Then speed thee, noble Chatlerault!
Spread to the wind thy banner'd tree!*
Each warrior bend his Clydesdale bow!-
Murray is fall'n, and Scotland free."
Vaults every warrior to his steed;
Loud bugles join their wild acclaim-
Murray is fall'n, and Scotland freed!
Couch, Arran! couch thy spear of flame!"

* Hackbut bent-Gun cock'd. The carbine, with which the Regent was shot, is preserved at Hamilton Palace. It is a brass piece, of a middling length, very small in the bore, and, what is rather extraordinary, appears to have been rifled or indented in the barrel. It had a match-lock, for which a modern firelock has been injudiciously substituted.

Of this noted person, it is enough to say, that he was active in the murder of David Rizzio, and at least privy to that of Darnley.

But, see! the minstrel vision fails

The glimmering spears are seen no more; The shouts of war die on the gales,

Or sink in Evan's lonely roar.

For the loud bugle, pealing high,
The blackbird whistles down the vale,
And sunk in ivied ruins lie

The banner'd towers of Evandale.
For Chiefs, intent on bloody deed,
And vengeance shouting o'er the slain,
Lo! high-born Beauty rules the steed,
Or graceful guides the silken rein.
And long may Peace and Pleasure own
The maids who list the minstrel's tale,
Nor e'er a ruder guest be known
On the fair banks of Evandale!

THE GRAY BROTHER.

A FRAGMENT.

BY WALTER SCOTT.

THE imperfect state of this ballad, which was written several years ago, is not a circumstance affected for the purpose of giving it that peculiar interest, which is often found to arise from ungratified curiosity. On the contrary, it was the Editor's intention to have completed the tale, if he had found himself able to succeed to his own satisfaction. Yielding to the opinion of persons, whose judgment, if not biased by the partiality of friendship, is entitled to deference, he has preferred inserting these verses as a fragment, to his intention of entirely suppressing them.

The tradition, upon which the tale is founded, regards a house upon the barony of Gilmerton, near Lasswade, in Mid-Lothian. This building, now called Gilmerton Grange, was originally named Burndale, from the following tragic adventure. The barony of Gilmerton belonged, of yore, to a gentleman named Heron, who had one beautiful daughter. This young lady was seduced by the Abbot of Newbattle, a richly endowed abbey, upon the banks of the South Esk, now a seat of the Marquis of Lothian. Heron came to the knowledge of this circumstance, and learned also, that the lovers carried on their guilty intercourse by the connivance of the lady's nurse, who lived at this house of Gilmerton Grange, or Burndale. He formed a resolution of bloody vengeance, undeterred by the supposed sanctity of the clerical character, or by the stronger claims of natural affection. Choosing, therefore, a dark and windy night, when the objects of his vengeance were engaged in a stolen interview, he set fire to a stack of dried thorns, and other combustibles, which he had caused to be piled against the house, and reduced to a pile of glowing ashes the dwelling, with all its inmates.tt

driven back by force, being before almost overthrown by the avaunt-guard and harquebusiers, and so were turned to flight."CALDERWOOD's MS. apud KEITH, p. 480. Melville mentions the flight of the vanguard, but states it to have been commanded by Morton, and composed chiefly of commoners of the barony of Renfrew.

The Earl of Glencairn was a steady adherent of the Regent. George Douglas of Parkhead was a natural brother of the Earl of Morton, whose horse was killed by the same ball by which Murray fell.

Lord Lindsay, of the Byres, was the most ferocious and brutal of the Regent's fact, n, and, as such, was employed to extort Mary's signature to the deed of resignation presented to her in Lochleven castle. He discharged his commission with the most savage rigour; and it is even said, that when the weeping captive, in the act of signing, averted her eyes from the fatal deed, he pinched her arm with the grasp of his iron glove.

ed by the crowd: so that Bothwellhaugh had time to take a deliberate aim.-SPOTTISWOODE, p. 233. BUCHANAN. **An oak, half-suwn, with the motto through, is an ancient cognizance of the family of Hamilton.

This tradition was communicated to me by John Clerk, Esq.

The scene with which the ballad opens, was suggested by the following curious passage, extracted from the Life of Alexander Peden, one of the wandering and persecuted teachers of the sect of Cameronians, during the reign of Charles II. and his successor, James. This person was supposed by his followers, and, perhaps, really believed himself, to be possessed of supernatural gifts; for the wild scenes which they frequented, and the constant dangers which were incurred through their proscription, deepened upon their minds the gloom of superstition, so general in that age.

About the same time he [Peden] came to Andrew Normand's house, in the parish of Alloway, in the stire of Ayr, being to preach at night in his barn. After he came in, he halted a little, leaning upon a chair-back, with his face covered; when he lifted up his head, he said, 'They are in this house that I have not one word of salvation unto;' he halted a little again, saying,, This is strange, that the devil will not go out, that we may begin our work!' Then there was a woman went out, ill-looked upon almost all her life, and to her dying hour, for a witch, with many presumptions of the same. It escaped me, in the former passages, what John Muirhead (whom I have often mentioned) told me, that when he came from Ireland to Galloway, he was at family-worship, and giving some notes upon the Scripture read, when a very ill-looking man came, and sat down within the door, at the back of the hallan, [partition of the cottage:] immediately he halted and said,There is some unhappy body just now come into this house. I charge him to go out, and not stop my mouth! The person went out, and he insisted, [went on.] yet he saw him neither come in Bor go out." -The Life and Prophecies of Mr. Alexander Peden, late Minister of the Gospel at New Glenluce, in Galloway, part ii. § 26.

A friendly correspondent remarks, "that the incapacity of proceeding in the performance of a religious duty, when a contaminated person is present, is of much higher antiquity than the era of the Reverend Mr. Alexander Peden."-Vide Hygini Fabulas, cap. 26. "Medea Corintho erul, Athenas, ad Egeum Pandionis filium devenit in hospitium, eique nupsit.

"Postea sacerdos Diana Medeam exagitare capit, regique negabat sacra caste facere posse, eo quod in ea civitate esset mulier venefica et scelerata; tunc exulatur."

And, when he would the chalice rear,
He dropp'd it to the ground.
"The breath of one of evil deed
Pollutes our sacred day;
He has no portion in our creed,
No part in what I say.

A being, whom no blessed word
To ghostly peace can bring;

A wretch, at whose approach abhorr'd,
Recoils each holy thing.

"Up, up, unhappy! haste, arise!
My adjuration fear!

I charge thee not to stop my voice,
Nor longer tarry here!"-

Amid them all a pilgrim kneel'd,
In gown of sackcloth gray;
Far journeying from his native field,
He first saw Rome that day.

For forty days and nights so drear,
I ween he had not spoke,
And, save with bread and water clear,
His fast he ne'er had broke.

Amid the penitential flock,

Seem'd none more bent to pray; But, when the Holy Father spoke, He rose and went his way

Again unto his native land

His weary course he drew,
To Lothian's fair and fertile strand,
And Pentland's mountains blue.

His unblest feet his native seat,

Mid Eske's fair woods, regain; Thro' woods more fair no stream more sweet Rolls to the eastern main.

And lords to meet the pilgrim came,

And vassals bent the knee;
For all mid Scotland's chiefs of fame,
Was none more famed than he.
And boldly for his country, still,
In battle he had stood,
Ay, even when on the banks of Till
Her noblest pour'd their blood.

Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet!
By Eske's fair streams that run,
O'er airy steep, through copsewood deep,
Impervious to the sun.

There the rapt poet's step may rove,

And yield the muse the day;

There Beauty, led by timid Love,
May shun the tell-tale ray;

From that fair dome, where suit is paid,
By blast of bugle free,*

To Auchendinny's hazel glade,t

And haupted Woodhouselee.+

Who knows not Melville's beechy grove,§
And Roslin's rocky glen,||

Dalkeith, which all the virtues love, T
And classic Hawthornden ?**

Yet never a path, from day to day,
The pilgrim's footsteps range,

$ Melville Castle, the seat of the Right Honourable Lord Mel

The barony of Pennycuick, the property of Sir George Clerk, Bart, is held by a ingular tenure; the proprietor being bound to sit upon a large rocky fragment, called the Buckstane, and wind the blasts of a born, when the King shall come to hunt on the Borough Muir, near Edinburgh. Hence, the family have adopted, as their crest, a demi-forester proper, winding a horn, with the motto, Free for a blast. The beautiful mansion-house of PennyPack is much admired, both on account of the architecture and sarrounding scenery.

Auchend any, situated upon the Eske, below Pennycuick, the present residence of the ingenious H. Mackenzie, Esq., author of the Man of Feeling, &c.-Edition 1803.

For the traditions connected with this ruinous mansion, see Ballad of Cadyoto Castle.

upon the Eske, near Lasswade.

The ruins of Roslin Castle, the baronial residence of the ancient family of St. Clair. The Gothic chapel, which is still in beautiful preservation, with the romantic and woody dell in which they are situated, belong to the Right Honourable the Earl of Rosslyn, the representative of the former Lords of Roslin.

The village and castle of Dalkeith belonged, of old, to the famous Earl of Morton, but is now the residence of the noble family of Buccleuch. The park extends along the Eske, which is there joined by its sister stream, of the same name.

**Hawthornden, the residence of the poet Drummond. A house, of more modern date, is enclosed, as it were, by the ruins of the ancient castle, and overhangs a tremendous precipice, upon the banks of the Eske, perforated by winding caves, which, in former times, were a refuge to the oppressed patriots of Scotland. Here Drummond received Ben Jonson, who journeyed from London, on