BORDER RAIDS AND REIVERS.

BORDER RAIDS

AND

REIVERS

BY

ROBERT BORLAND

MINISTER OF YARROW

DALBEATTIE: THOMAS FRASER.

MDCCCXCVIII.

Printed at the Courier and Herald Offices,
Dumfries,
for
THOMAS FRASER, DALBEATTIE.

CONTENTS.

PREFACE.

The object we have had in view in the following pages has been (1) to indicate briefly the causes which produced Border reiving; (2) to show the extent to which the system was ultimately developed; (3) to describe the means adopted by both Governments for its suppression; (4) to illustrate the way in which the rugging and riving—to use a well-known phrase—was carried on; (5) to explain how these abnormal conditions were in the end effectually removed; and (6) to set forth in brief outline some of the more prominent traits in the lives and characters of the men who were most closely identified with this extraordinary phase of Border life.

We have to acknowledge our indebtedness for much of the information conveyed in the following pages to Scott’s “Border Antiquities” and “Border Minstrelsy,” Nicolson’s “Leges Marchiarum,” Pitcairn’s “Criminal Trials,” “Calendar of Border Papers” (recently published), “Cary’s Memoirs”—Froissart, Godscroft, Pitscottie, Pinkerton—and host of other writers on Border themes.

It is in no spirit of mock-modesty we acknowledge how inadequately the object we have had in view has been realised. The subject is so large and many-sided that we have found it difficult to compress within the compass of a single volume anything like an adequate outline of a theme which is at once so varied and interesting.

In coming to the consideration of this subject, there is one fact which it is well the reader should carefully bear in mind, and that is, that from the peculiar circumstances in which Borderers were placed in early times, the only alternative they had was either to starve or steal. The recognition of this fact will at least awaken our sympathy, if it does not always command our approval, when we come to consider the lives and characters of the Border Reivers.

I.

THE AULD ENEMY.

here are few more remarkable phenomena in the political or social life of Scotland than what is familiarly known as “Border Reiving.” In olden times it prevailed along the whole line of the Borders from Berwick to the Solway, embracing the counties of Berwick, Roxburgh, Selkirk, Peebles, and Dumfries. During a period of some three or four hundred years these districts were chiefly inhabited by hordes of moss-troopers, who made it the chief business of their lives to harry and despoil their English neighbours. On every convenient opportunity the Scottish reivers crossed the Border, and carried off whatever came readiest to hand—horses, cows, sheep, “insight and outsight,” nothing coming amiss to them unless it was either too heavy or too hot. Those on the English side who were thus despoiled were not slow to retaliate, and generally succeeded, to some extent, in making good the losses they sustained. This system of plunder and reprisal ultimately attained an extraordinary development. All classes, from the Chief of the clan to the meanest serf over whom he ruled, were engaged in it. Indeed it must be frankly admitted that the most notorious thieves were often those who had least excuse for indulging in such nefarious practices—gentlemen in high position like the Scotts, Kers, Johnstones, and Maxwells, and who in many cases had been chosen by the Government to repress the reiving propensities of their clans and followers.

Some who have made a superficial acquaintance with this remarkable phase of Border life have rushed to the conclusion that the great Border Chiefs, and those over whom they exercised a kind of patriarchal authority, must have been dowered with a “double dose of original sin.” In proof of this it is pointed out that a widely different state of affairs prevailed in other parts of the country, for example in Fife, and the Lothians, and generally speaking, throughout the whole of the west of Scotland, and consequently the only way in which they can account for the singular condition of the Borders is by predicating an essentially lower moral type. We do not believe that this theory, plausible though it may appear, will bear a moment’s serious consideration. No doubt among the “broken men” of the Debateable land, and in some parts of Liddesdale, you will find a considerable number of disreputable characters whose only law was the length of their own swords. But it is a mistake to suppose that such individuals represent the general type of the inhabitants of the Borderland. The very fact that these men had no Chief to represent them shows that they had, so to speak, fallen out of the ranks.

The solution of this problem must be sought in another direction. It will be found by a careful study of the history of the country that Border reiving was, to a considerable extent, the result of a concatenation of circumstances over which the inhabitants of these districts had little or no control. They were the victims of an evil fate. It was not merely their proximity to the English Border which occasioned their misdeeds. It is an interesting and significant fact that, till near the close of the 13th century, the Border Counties were as law-abiding as any other part of the realm. Petty skirmishes were, no doubt, of frequent occurrence, as might be expected; but the deep rooted aversion to the English which characterises the subsequent period of Scottish history had hardly at that time any real existence. How the change was brought about will become apparent as we bring under review some salient facts in Scottish history which have a direct and immediate bearing on the question before us.

It must be borne in mind that for a period of more than three hundred years Scotland was kept in a condition of political distraction by the insane desire on the part of the English Government to reduce it to a state of vassalage. When this policy was first determined on everything seemed favourable to its speedy realisation. When Alexander III., a wise and gracious King, under whose reign the country had greatly prospered, was accidentally killed when hunting in the neighbourhood of Kinghorn, the Crown reverted to his grand-daughter, the Maid of Norway, who was then a child of tender years. At this unfortunate juncture Edward I. of England resolved that the two countries should be united under one Sovereign; at least this was the object of his ambition. He was fully convinced that so long as Scotland maintained her political independence, England would have to reckon with a powerful adversary. If he could only succeed, by fair means or foul, in gaining Scotland over as a fief of England, then the country as a whole would enjoy the immunities and benefits naturally accruing to its position as an island. England would thus be in an immensely more advantageous position to resist foreign invasion, and its influence and power as an aggressive force would be indefinitely increased. The object aimed at was an exceedingly desirable one. Unfortunately it was a sane policy insanely pursued. Had the English King only been gifted with more self-restraint, had he but been prepared to wait patiently the natural development of events, and not to have struck the iron before it was hot, he might have succeeded in gaining his end, a result which would have changed the whole complexion and current of Scottish history. Whether this would have been better or worse, more to our own advantage and the advantage of Great Britain, as a whole, is one of those points about which there may be considerable difference of opinion. Many have regretted that the Union of the Crowns was not effected in the 14th century rather than in the 17th, as such a consummation would have saved the country much, both of bloodshed and treasure. It may be so. It cannot be denied that from a purely material point of view it might have been better had Scotland gracefully complied with the wishes of Edward. But man cannot live by bread alone. There are higher and better things in the life of a people than mere material well-being, and in view of these it was well that Scotland maintained her independence. The record of her achievements, when contending against the most overwhelming odds, and the example of those heroic personalities, which mark the progress of her history, have been a perennial fountain of inspiration to the Scottish people, have made them what they are. While, therefore, there may be some cause for regret, on the ground of political expediency, that the union of the two countries was so late in being effected, yet on other and higher grounds there is just reason for thankfulness that things took the course they did. What would Scotland have been without its Wallace or Bruce? or what would it have been apart from the long and arduous struggle through which it was destined to pass ere it gained an assured and thoroughly independent political position? The long years of struggle and desolating warfare constitute an important factor in the social and intellectual evolution of the nation. The best qualities of the Scottish character and intellect were developed in the seething maelstrom of political strife and internecine war. It may be that “the course of Providence is also the orbit of wisdom.”

Edward in trying to bring Scotland under his sway pursued a two-fold policy. He endeavoured to prevent as far as possible all union among the most powerful Scottish barons. He arrayed their private and selfish ambition against the love of their country. He sowed dissension in their councils, and richly rewarded their treachery. Those who dared to oppose his well-laid schemes were treated with unmitigated severity. His success in this respect was complete. He had the satisfaction of seeing the country torn to pieces by contending factions. His way was now open for applying more drastic measures. He raised a powerful army and invaded Scotland. The town of Berwick was then an important centre of commerce, and he was determined at all hazards to make himself master of the city. “He despatched a large division, with orders to assault the town, choosing a line of march which concealed them from the citizens; and he commanded his fleet to enter the river at the same moment that the great body of the army, led by himself, were ready to storm. The Scottish army fiercely assaulted the ships, burnt three of them, and compelled the rest to retire; but they in their turn were driven back by the fury of the land attack. Edward himself, mounted on horseback, was the first who leaped the dyke; and the soldiers, animated by the example and presence of their King, carried everything before them. All the horrors of a rich and populous city, sacked by an inflamed soldiery, and a commander thirsting for vengeance, now succeeded. Seventeen thousand persons, without distinction of age or sex, were put to the sword; and for two days the city ran with blood like a river. The churches, to which the miserable inhabitants fled for sanctuary, were violated and defiled with blood, spoiled of their sacred ornaments, and turned into stables for the English cavalry.”[1]

This ruthless massacre produced a profound sensation all over the country, but more especially on the Borders, and had much to do in creating that bitter feeling of hostility with which the English were ever afterwards regarded. To harass and despoil them was looked upon almost as a sacred duty. This miserable butchery of the inoffensive lieges instantly led to reprisals. Under the Earls of Ross, Menteith, and Athole, the Scottish army crossed the English Border, and ravaged with merciless severity the districts of Redesdale and Tynedale. The monasteries of Lanercost and Hexham were given to the flames, towns and villages destroyed, and the surrounding country laid waste. The Scots returned laden with booty. But the success which had crowned their arms was of doubtful utility. It only served to fan the flame of vengeful ire in the breast of the English King, who now resolved on the complete subjugation of the country. He marched against Dunbar with an army of ten thousand foot, and a thousand heavy armed horse. The Scots opposed his progress with an army much superior in point of numbers, and occupying a position of great strategic importance on the heights above Spot. As the English army had necessarily to deploy in passing along the valley it was supposed that the ranks had somehow fallen into confusion. The Scots precipitately rushed upon the enemy, only to find, to their dismay, that the English army was under the most perfect discipline, and ready for the attack. After a short resistance the Scottish columns were thrown into inextricable confusion, and were routed with great slaughter, leaving ten thousand brave soldiers dead in the field. History has a strange knack of repeating itself. Three hundred and fifty years after, the Scottish covenanters committed a similar blunder at the same place when opposing the progress of Oliver Cromwell, and with an equally disastrous result. The progress of Edward now partook of the nature of a triumphal march. He threw his army upon Edinburgh, and in the course of eight days made himself master of the Castle. He then proceeded to Perth, where he received the submission of Baliol, who seemed anxious to rid himself of an office the duties of which he was constitutionally unfit to discharge. The King continued his march to Aberdeen, and from thence to Elgin, without resistance. The nobles hurried into his presence to tender their submission. With indecent haste they renounced the alliance with Bruce, and took the oath of fealty to the destroyer of their country’s liberties. It was a dark and tragic hour in Scottish history.

As Edward returned on his way to Berwick, where he proposed holding a Parliament, he visited Scone, and took with him the “famous and fatal stone” upon which for many ages the Scottish Kings had been crowned and anointed. “This, considered by the Scots as the national Palladium, along with the Scottish Sceptre and Crown, the English monarch placed in the Cathedral of Westminster as an offering to Edward the Confessor, and as a memorial of what he deemed his absolute conquest of Scotland, a conquest which, before a single year elapsed, was entirely wrested from him.”[2]

We must now pass rapidly over one of the most eventful and stirring periods of Scottish history, during which Wallace and Bruce, by almost superhuman efforts, succeeded in delivering the country from the domination and control of England. The battle of Bannockburn gave the final blow to the lofty pretensions of the English monarch. He began to realise that the conquest of Scotland was not to be effected so easily as he had at one time vainly thought. But unfortunately this splendid victory did not result in inaugurating a reign of peace and goodwill between the two countries. After all that the Scottish people had suffered at the hands of their enemies, it was impossible for them to remain quiescent. They were determined on revenge. Hence we find that in the early autumn of 1314 Douglas and Edward Bruce were despatched across the eastern march, and ravaged with fire and sword the counties of Northumberland and Durham. They even penetrated into Yorkshire, plundered the town of Richmond, and drove away a large booty of cattle, and made many prisoners. The inhabitants of the north of England were paralysed with fear. Walsingham declares that a hundred Englishmen would not hesitate to fly from two or three Scottish soldiers, so grievously had their wonted courage deserted them.

Another army of Scottish soldiers marched through Redesdale and Tynedale, “marking their progress by the black ashes of the towns and villages.”

In the spring of the following year this predatory mode of warfare was again resumed, and Northumberland and the principality of Durham ravaged. A great quantity of plunder was collected, and the inhabitants compelled to redeem their property by paying a high tribute. The army of Bruce seemed invincible, and the northern counties of England were made to pay dearly for the temerity of the king in venturing to challenge the patriotism and prowess of the Scottish people.

These events produced a profound impression on the people as a whole, especially on the dwellers on the Scottish Border. The sacking of Berwick, and the indiscriminate slaughter of its inhabitants, whose only offence was that they refused to open their gates to the usurper, were not soon forgotten, and engendered in the Border mind an undying hatred of England. It is not to be wondered at that the inhabitants of the Scottish Border should seldom either think or speak of the English except as their “auld enemies.” To despoil them became, if not a religious, at least a patriotic duty. These circumstances to which reference has been made, and others of a kindred nature, may account, in some degree at least, for the extraordinary fact that the Border mosstrooper never seems to have been ashamed of his calling. On the contrary he gloried in it. In his eyes it was honourable and worthy. The undaunted bearing of the Bold Buccleuch, for example, and his cavalier manner in dealing with the English wardens, showed how thoroughly he enjoyed the work in which he was engaged. Eure tells how, on one occasion, he sent his cousin, Henry Bowes, to confer with this famous freebooter on some question in dispute, but Buccleuch “scorned to speak with him, and gathered his forces; and if my said cousin had not wisely foreseen and taken time to have come away he had been stayed himself. Two several messages were sent from Buccleuch from out his company that were in the field, part to have stayed with him and those that were with him. Not long since some of his men having stolen in my March, my men following their trade were stayed of his officer of Hermitage, their horses taken and themselves escaped on foot.”[3]

The English warden had evidently considerable difficulty in accounting for Buccleuch’s attitude, for we find in a letter written to Burghley a few days after this happened that he is disposed to attribute his enmity to England to his zeal for Romanism. “His secret friends,” he says, “say he is a papist; his surest friends in court are papists about the Queen, and labour his grace with the King. He strengthened himself much of late, and secretly says he will not stir till some certainty of the Spaniards arrive. To England he is a secret enemy, mighty proud, publishing his descent to be from Angus, and laboureth to be created Earl, and claimeth his blood to be partly royal. His poverty is great, all which concurring with his pride and Spanish religion, I leave to your honourable wisdom to censure.”

This picture is certainly painted in strong colours. The one point in it which is really significant, however, is that Buccleuch was “a secret enemy to England.” This may be said of nine-tenths of the Border reivers. It was not the mere love of plunder or mischief which impelled them to prosecute their calling. They were animated by a spirit of revenge. Times almost without number the armies of England had crossed the Border, burning villages and homesteads, destroying the crops, carrying off goods and cattle, leaving those whom they had thus ruthlessly despoiled to the tender mercies of an uncertain climate and an impoverished soil, from which even at the best they had difficulty in extracting a bare subsistence.

The English were, comparatively speaking, rich and powerful. They could command great forces, against which it was in vain, in most cases, for the Scottish Borderers to contend. Hence when they were assailed they drove their cattle into the recesses of mountain or forest, burned or otherwise destroyed what they could not remove—so that the enemy might be enriched as little as possible—and betook themselves to some distant shelter, where they awaited the course of events. As soon as the enemy had withdrawn, they returned to their places of abode, which, though destroyed, were easily reconstructed—the work of rebuilding being done in a day or two—and then they set about recouping themselves for the losses they had sustained by making incursions on the English Border, and carrying off every thing they could lay their hands on. This system of plunder and reprisal went on merrily along the whole line of the Borders for many generations. All the great Border families were involved in it, and devoted themselves to the work with a zeal and enthusiasm which left nothing to be desired. They doubtless felt that in plundering the English they were not only enriching themselves, but promoting the interests of their country, and paying back a long standing and heavily accumulating debt.

II.

PERCY’S PENNON.

he Battle of Otterburn, which took place in the autumn of 1388, is without question one of the most interesting episodes in Border history, and is especially significant as an illustration of the prowess and chivalry of the Border Chiefs. The chief combatants on the Scottish side were the Earls of Douglas, Moray, March, and Crawford, the Lord Montgomery, and Patrick Hepburn of Hales, and his son. On the English side were Sir Henry (Hotspur) and Sir Ralph Percy, sons of the Earl of Northumberland; the Seneschal of York, Sir Ralph Langley, Sir Matthew Redman, governor of Berwick, Sir Robert Ogle, Sir Thomas Grey, Sir Thomas Hatton, Sir John Felton, Sir John Lillburne, Sir William Walsingham, and many others, all good men and true. The circumstances which brought about this famous encounter are worth recalling, as they shed an interesting light on the history of the period, as well as on the manners and customs of the age. The Scots, with the aid of their French allies, under the command of Sir John de Vienne, had made frequent successful incursions upon the English Borders, ravaging with fire and sword considerable districts of the country, both to the east and west of the frontier. This naturally led to retaliating expeditions. At last the state of affairs became so desperate that the young King, Richard II., determined to invade Scotland, and mete out summary punishment on the depredators. An army of extraordinary power and splendour was assembled; and the King, attended by his uncles and all the principal nobles of the kingdom, set out for the Scottish Border. If he expected to reap a rich harvest of booty by this invasion of the Scottish kingdom he was doomed to bitter disappointment. As he passed through Liddesdale and Teviotdale at the head of his army he found that the country had been cleared of everything that could be conveniently carried off. The cattle had been driven into the forest and mountain fastnesses; all the goods and chattels had been secured in places of safety; nothing was left but the green crops, and these being trampled upon were rendered practically worthless. But most wonderful of all—he never could come within sight of the enemy! The whole region through which he passed was lonely and desolate as a wilderness. The reason of this was that the French and Scots forces had fallen back upon Berwick, the commander of the Scots army being unwilling to hazard the fate of the country by an encounter with such an overwhelmingly superior force. The French commander, De Vienne, was impatient, and bitterly disappointed at not being permitted to attack the invaders. The Earl of Douglas, in order to demonstrate the hopelessness of an encounter, conveyed him to a lofty eminence, commanding a mountain pass through which the English army was at that moment defiling, and where unseen themselves, they could see its imposing array. The Scottish leader pointed out the number and discipline of the men-at-arms, and the superiority of the equipments of the archers, and then asked the French Knight whether he could recommend the Scots to encounter such a numerous and completely accoutred army with a few ill-trained Highland bowmen, and their light-armed prickers mounted on little hackneys. He could not but admit the risk was too great. “But yet,” said he, “if you do not give the English battle they will destroy your country.” “Let them do their worst,” replied Douglas, “they will find but little to destroy. Our people have all retired into the mountains and forests, and have carried off their flocks and herds and household stuff along with them. We will surround them with a desert, and while they never see an enemy they shall never stir a bow-shot from their standards without being overpowered with an ambush. Let them come on at their pleasure, and when it comes to burning and spoiling you shall see which has the worst of it.” “But what will you do with your army if you do not fight,” said De Vienne; “and how will your people endure the distress and famine and plunder which must be the consequences of the invasion?” “You shall see that our army shall not be idle,” was the reply; “and as for our Scottish people, they will endure pillage, and they will endure famine, and every other extremity of war, but they will not endure English masters.”

The wisdom of this course was proved by subsequent results. The English army by the time it reached Edinburgh had got into the most desperate straits owing to the scarcity of provisions. Multitudes perished from want, and to escape total destruction a retreat was ordered through those very districts “which their own merciless and short-sighted policy had rendered a blackened desert.”

There is one important fact brought before us in this connection which demands a passing notice. The Reformers have often been severely censured for the wholesale destruction of the ancient Abbeys so intimately associated with the “fair humanities” of the ritual and worship of the Church of Rome. The saying attributed to Knox, about pulling down the rookeries to prevent the crows building, has served as a convenient text for many a philippic on the iconoclastic spirit and tendency of Protestantism. But the truth is that Knox had as little sympathy with what he calls the “rascal multitude,” which sometimes engaged in this kind of work, as any of those opposed to him. Our Abbeys for the most part owe their destruction not to Reforming zeal, but to Catholic England’s cupidity and revenge. The beautiful Abbeys of Melrose, Dryburgh, and Newbattle were given to the flames by the English soldiers at this time, and the wanton destruction of these noble edifices created in the Scottish mind a feeling of deep and bitter hostility. Jedburgh, too, owes its destruction not to Scottish iconoclasm, but to English invasion. It was pillaged and partly burned by the Earl of Surrey in the year 1523, and its destruction was practically completed by the Earl of Hereford twenty-two years afterwards; so that, so far at least as the Border Abbeys are concerned, the charge so often preferred against the Reformers is a base and stupid calumny.

It was this invasion of the English army which led the Scottish nobles to organise the expedition which may be said to have terminated so gloriously at Otterburn. “The Scots,” says Godscroft, “irritated herewith boyled with desire and revenge, being at that time very flourishing with strong youth, and never better furnished with commanders.” The barons did not think it politic, for various reasons, to take the King into their confidence. He was of an essentially pacific disposition, and moreover was well stricken in years, and it is almost certain, had the matter been laid before him, he would have opposed the movement to the utmost of his power. His sons, however, were prepared to give every encouragement and assistance, and the barons in order to allay suspicion, and especially to prevent the English getting to know their purposes and plans, assembled at a great feast in Aberdeen and took counsel together. But, as Froissart says, “Everything is known to them who are diligent in their inquiries.” The English nobles sent spies to Aberdeen, who, appearing in the guise of heralds and minstrels, became familiar with the plans of the Scottish barons, and speedily carried the information back to their own country. When the Scottish army ultimately assembled at Yetholm, close to the English Border, the English lords were well informed on nearly every point on which information could be desired. Such a muster had not been seen, so it was said, for sixty years. “There were twelve hundred spears, and forty thousand other men and archers. These lords were well pleased on meeting with each other, and declared they would never return to their homes without making an inroad on England, and to such an effect as would be remembered for twenty years.”[4]

The English had arranged that, if the Scots entered the country through Cumberland and Carlisle, they would ride into Scotland by Berwick and Dunbar, for they said, theirs is an open country that can be entered anywhere, but ours is a country with strong and well fortified towns and castles. It was therefore important they should know what route the Scots had determined upon. To ascertain this they sent a spy to the Scots’ camp that he might report to them not only their intentions, but their speeches and actions. The English squire who came on this errand had a singular and exciting experience. He tied his horse to a tree in the neighbourhood of the church, where the barons were assembled, and entered into the church, as a servant following his master. When he came out he went to get his horse, but to his consternation the animal had disappeared, “for a Scotsman (for they are all thieves) had stolen him.”[5] He went away, saying nothing about his loss, a circumstance which at once excited suspicion. One who saw him remarked, “I have witnessed many wonderful things, but what I now see is equal to any; that man yonder has, I believe, lost his horse, and yet he makes no inquiries after it. On my troth, I doubt much if he belongs to us; let us go after him, and see whether I am right or not.” He was immediately apprehended, brought back, and examined. He was told that if he tried to deceive them he would lose his head, but if he told the truth he would be kindly treated. Being in dread of his life, he divulged all he knew, and especially explained with minuteness of detail the plans which had been concocted by his compatriots for the invasion of Scotland. “When the Scottish lords heard what was said they were silent; but looked at each other.”

It was now resolved to divide the army into two sections; one section, and that much the larger of the two, to go into England through Cumberland, the other to proceed along the valley of the Tyne to Durham. The latter company, under the command of the Earl of Douglas, made a rapid march through Northumberland, keeping a “calm sough” all the way, but as soon as they got into the neighbourhood of Durham the fiends of war were let loose. The first intimation the garrison in Newcastle had that the enemy was within their gates, was the dense volumes of smoke which ascended from burning towns and homesteads. Having gathered together an immense quantity of booty, the Scots set out on their return journey, and crossing the Tyne assaulted Newcastle, filling the ditches with hay and faggots, hoping thereby to have drawn out the enemy to the open fields. But the English, being in doubt as to the real strength of the Scots’ army, were afraid to challenge an encounter. But Sir Henry Percy, better known as Hotspur, being desirous to try his valour, offered to fight the Douglas in single combat. “They mounted on two faire steeds, and ran together with sharp ground spears at outrance; in which encounter the Earl Douglas bore Percie out of his saddle. But the English that were by did rescue him so that he could not come at himself, but he snatched away his spear with his guidon or wither; and waving it aloft, and shaking it, he cried aloud that he would carry it into Scotland as his spoil.”[6] The account which Froissart gives of this notable encounter differs in some particulars from the foregoing. He says:—“The sons of the Earl of Northumberland, from their great courage, were always the first barriers, when many valiant deeds were done with lances hand to hand. The Earl of Douglas had a long conflict with Sir Henry Percy, and in it, by gallantry of arms, won his pennon, to the great vexation of Sir Henry and the other English.” The Earl of Douglas said, “I will carry this token of your prowess with me to Scotland, and place it on the tower of my castle at Dalkeith that it may be seen from far.” “By God, Earl of Douglas,” replied Sir Henry, “you shall not even carry it out of Northumberland; be assured you shall never have the pennon to brag of.” “You must come then,” answered Earl Douglas, “this night and seek for it. I will fix your pennon before my tent, and shall see if you venture to take it away.” As the balladist has vigorously put it—

He took a long spear in his hand,
Shod with the metal free,
And for to meet the Douglas there,
He rode right furiouslie.
But O how pale his lady look’d,
Frae aff the castle wa’,
When down before the Scottish spear
She saw proud Percy fa’.
“Had we twa been upon the green,
And never an eye to see,
I wad hae had you, flesh and fell;[7]
But your sword sall gie wi’ me.”
“But gae ye up to Otterbourne,
And wait there dayis three;
And, if I come not ere three dayis end,
A fause knight ca’ ye me.”
“The Otterbourne’s a bonnie burn;
’Tis pleasant there to be;
But there is nought at Otterbourne,
To feed my men and me.
“The deer rins wild on hill and dale,
The birds fly wild from tree to tree;
But there is neither bread nor kail,
To fend[8] my men and me.
“Yet I will stay at Otterbourne,
Where you shall welcome be;
And, if ye come not at three dayis end,
A fause lord I’ll ca’ thee.”

“Thither will I come,” proud Percy said,
“By the might of our Ladye!”
“There will I bide thee,” said the Douglass,
“My troth I plight to thee.”
They lighted high on Otterbourne,
Upon the bent sae brown;
They lighted high on Otterbourne,
And threw their pallions down.
And he that had a bonnie boy,
Sent out his horse to grass;
And he that had not a bonnie boy,
His ain servant he was.

The Earl of Douglas having withdrawn his gallant troops to Otterburn, in the parish of Elsdon, some thirty-two miles from Newcastle, and within easy reach of the Scottish Border, was strongly urged to proceed towards Carlisle, in order to join the main body of the army; but he thought it best to stay there some three or four days at least, to “repell the Percy’s bragging.” To keep his soldiers from wearying, he set them to take some gentlemen’s castles and houses that lay near, a work which was carried out with the greatest alacrity and goodwill. They also strengthened and fortified the camp where it was weak, and built huts of trees and branches. Their baggage and servants they placed at the entrance of a marsh, which lay near the Newcastle road; and driving their cattle into the marsh land, where they were comparatively safe, they waited the development of events.

Nor were they long kept in suspense. The English having discovered that the Scottish army was comparatively small, resolved at once to risk an encounter. Sir Henry Percy, when he heard that the Scottish army did not consist of more than three thousand men, including all sorts, became frantically excited, and cried out—“To horse! to horse! for by the faith I owe to my God, and to my lord and father, I will seek to recover my pennon, and to beat up their quarters this night.” He set out at once, accompanied by six hundred spears, of knights and squires, and upwards of eight thousand infantry, which he said would be more than enough to fight the Scots.

If Providence is always on the side of the heaviest battalion, as Napoleon was wont to affirm, then the Scots on this occasion are in imminent danger of having “short shrift.” But it has been found that the fortunes of war depend on a variety of circumstances that are frequently of more importance than the number of troops, either on the one side or the other. Discipline and valour, when combined with patriotism and pride-of-arms, have accomplished feats which the heaviest battalions are sometimes impotent to achieve. We by no means wish to imply that the English were deficient in these desirable qualities; far from it. They were splendidly led, and in the encounter displayed the most heroic qualities; but they were matched by a small body of men, of the most dauntless courage and invincible determination who were thoroughly inured to battle, and ever ready at the call of duty, to encounter the most powerful foes. The Scots were taken by surprise. Some were at supper, and others had gone to rest when the alarm was given that the English were approaching.

But up then spake a little page,
Before the peep of dawn—
“O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
For Percy’s hard at hand.”
“Ye lie, ye lie, ye liar loud!
Sae loud I hear ye lie;
For Percy had not men yestreen,
To dight my men and me.
“But I have dream’d a dreary dream,
Beyond the Isle of Sky;
I saw a dead man win a fight,
And I think that man was I.”
He belted on his guid braid sword,
And to the field he ran;
But he forgot the helmit good,
That should have kept his brain.

The battle now raged in earnest. A bright warm day had been followed by a clear still moonlight night. “The fight,” says Godscroft, “was continued very hard as among noble men on both sides, who did esteem more of glory than life. Percy strove to repair the foil he got at Newcastle, and the Earl Douglas did as much labour to keep the honour he had won. So in unequal numbers, but both eager in mind, they continued fighting a great part of the night. At last a cloud covering the face of the moon, not being able to discern friend from foe, they took some respite for a while; but so soon as the cloud was gone, the English gave so hard a charge, that the Scots were put back in such sort, that the Douglas standard was in great peril to have been lost. This did so irritate him, that he himself in the one wing, and the two Hepburns (father and son) in the other, pressing through the ranks of their own men, and advancing to the place where the greatest peril appeared, renewed a hard conflict, and by giving and receiving many wounds, they restored their men into the place from whence they had been beaten, and continued the fight till the next day at noon.”[9] Foremost, in the thick of the fray, was the dauntless Douglas, laying about him on every side with a mace of iron, which two ordinary men were not able to lift, “and making a lane round about wheresoever he went.”

When Percy wi’ the Douglas met
I wat he was fu’ fain!
They swakked their swords till sair they swat,
And the blood ran down like rain.

“Thus he advanced like another Hector, thinking to recover and conquer the field, from his own prowess, until he was met by three spears that were pointed at him: one struck him on the shoulder, another on the stomach, near the belly, and the third entered his thigh. He could never disengage himself from these spears, but was borne to the ground fighting desperately. From that moment he never rose again. Some of his knights and squires had followed him, but not all; for though the moon shone it was rather dark. The three English lances knew they had struck down some person of considerable rank, but never thought it was Earl Douglas: had they known it they would have been so rejoiced that their courage would have been redoubled, and the fortune of the day had consequently been determined to their side. The Scots were ignorant also of their loss till the battle was over, otherwise they would certainly, from despair, have been discomfited.”[10]

When at last the dying Douglas was discovered by his kinsman, James Lindsay and John and Walter Sinclair, and was asked how he fared, he replied, “I do well dying as my predecessors have done before; not on a bed of lingering sickness, but in the field. These things I require you as my last petitions; First, that ye keep my death close both from my own folk, and from the enemy; then that ye suffer not my standard to be lost, or cast down; and last that ye avenge my death, and bury me at Melrose with my father. If I could hope for these things, I should die with the greater contentment, for long since I heard a prophecy that a dead man should win a field, and I hope in God it shall be I.”[11]

“My wound is deep; I fain would sleep,
Take thou the vanguard of the three,
And hide me by the bracken bush,
That grows on yonder lilye lee.

“O bury me by the bracken bush,
Beneath the blooming brier,
Let never living mortal ken,
A kindly Scot lies here.”[12]

Throwing a shroud over the prostrate body of the wounded and dying soldier, that the enemy might not discover who it was that had fallen, they raised the standard and shouted lustily “a Douglas! a Douglas!” and rushed with might and main upon the English host. Soon the English ranks began to waver, and when at last it was known that Hotspur had been taken prisoner by the Earl of Montgomery, “The enemy fled and turned their backs.” According to Godscroft there were 1840 of the English slain, 1040 taken prisoners, and 1000 wounded. The losses on the Scottish, according to the same historian, were comparatively trifling, amounting only to 100 slain and 200 taken prisoners.

This deed was done at Otterbourne
About the breaking of the day,
Earl Douglas was buried at the bracken bush,
And the Percy led captive away.

There are several incidents connected with this famous battle that are worthy of special notice, but one in particular demands a passing word. The Bishop of Durham, at the head of ten thousand men, appeared on the field almost immediately after the battle had ended. The Scots were greatly alarmed, and scarcely knew how, in the circumstances,—having so many prisoners and wounded to attend to,—they were to meet this formidable host. They fortified their camp, having only one pass by which it could be entered; made their prisoners swear that, whether rescued or not, they would remain their prisoners; and then they ordered their minstrels to play as merrily as possible. The Bishop of Durham had scarcely approached within a league of the Scots when they began to play such a concert that “it seemed as if all the devils in hell had come thither to join in the noise,” so that those of the English who had never before heard such were much frightened. As he drew nearer, the noise became more terrific—“the hills redoubling the sound.” The Bishop being impressed with the apparent strength of the camp, and not a little alarmed at the discordant piercing sounds which proceeded from it, thought it desirable to retreat as speedily as possible, as it appeared to him that there were greater chances of loss than gain. “He was affrighted with the sound of the horns.”

Thus ended one of the most notable battles on record. The flower of the chivalry of both nations took part in it, and never did men acquit themselves with greater credit. Indeed it is generally admitted that the valour displayed on both sides has rarely, if ever, been surpassed. But perhaps most notable of all was the kindness and consideration displayed towards those who had been wounded or taken prisoner. The former were tended with the greatest care; and as for the latter, the most of them were permitted to go back to their homes, after having given their word of honour that they would return when called upon. Not more than four hundred prisoners were carried into Scotland, and some of these were allowed to regain their liberty by naming their own ransom.

Many severe accusations have been brought against Scotsmen, and especially Borderers, for their cruelty and inhumanity in time of war. It is perhaps possible to make good this indictment; but we do not believe that in regard to such matters the Scots were worse than their neighbours. And if they had great vices, they had also splendid virtues. They were brave, truthful, courteous, too ready perhaps to draw the sword on the slightest provocation, but as has been shown in the present instance, they were incapable of taking a mean advantage of a fallen foe. They loved fighting for its own sake, as well as for the sake of the “booty,” but when the battle was over they cherished few resentments. The splendid qualities, physical and moral, so conspicuously brought to view in the battle of Otterburn cannot fail to suggest what a magnificent country Scotland might have become many centuries ago had she only been blessed with wise Kings and a strong Government.

III.

POOR AND LAWLESS.

e have seen that the feeling of hatred to the English which prevailed on the Scottish Borders was due to some extent to the memory of the wrongs which the Borderers had suffered at the hands of their hereditary enemies. That this feeling had something to do with the existence and development of the reiving system, must be apparent to every student of history and of human nature. It was the most natural thing in the world that the dwellers on the Scottish Border should seek to retaliate; and as the forces at their command were seldom powerful enough to justify their engaging in open warfare, they resorted to the only other method of revenge which held out to them any hope of success.

But while this aspect of the situation ought to be kept prominently in view, there are other factors of the problem which must not be overlooked. In the Middle Ages the district of country known as the Borders must have presented a very different appearance from what it does at the close of the 19th century. The Merse, which is now, for the most part, in a high state of cultivation, and capable of bearing the finest crops, was then in a comparatively poor condition, looked at from an agricultural point of view. The soil in many places was thin, poor, and marshy. Drainage was unknown, and the benefits accruing from the rotation of crops, and the system of feeding the soil with artificial manures, so familiar in these days of high farming, were then very inadequately appreciated. Perhaps an exception to this statement ought to be made in favour of the land held and cultivated by the great religious houses, such as Melrose, Jedburgh, and Kelso. The tenants on these lands enjoyed special privileges and immunities, and were thus able to prosecute their labour not only with more skill, but with a greater certainty of success. It is sometimes said that the monks knew where to pitch their camps; that they appropriated to their own use and benefit the fairest and richest parts of the country; but, as Lord Hailes very pertinently remarks, “When we examine the sites of ancient Monasteries, we are sometimes inclined to say with the vulgar, that the clergy in former times always chose the best of the land, and the most commodious habitations, but we do not advert, that religious houses were frequently erected on waste grounds, afterwards improved by the art and industry of the clergy, who alone had art and industry.”[13] The land held by these houses was cultivated on more or less scientific principles. “Within the precincts of the wealthier abbeys,” says Skelton, “an active industrial community was housed. The prescribed offices of the church were of course scrupulously observed: but the energies of the society were not exclusively occupied with, nor indeed mainly directed to, the performance of religious duties. The occupants of the monasteries wore the religious garb; but they were road-makers, farmers, merchants, lawyers, as well as priests.... The earliest roads in Scotland that deserved the name were made by the Monks and their dependents; and were intended to connect the religious houses as trading societies with the capital or nearest seaport. A decent public road is indispensable to an industrial community: and a considerable portion of the trade of the country was in the hands of the religious orders. The Monks of Melrose sent wool to the Netherlands; others trafficked in corn, in timber, in salmon.... Each community, each order, as was natural, had its characteristic likings and dislikings. One house turned out the best scholars and lawyers, another the finest wool and the sweetest mutton; one was famed for poetry and history, another for divinity or medicine.”[14] It would therefore be nearer the truth to say that the monks made the districts in which they lived rich and fertile; than that they found them so, and took possession of them in consequence.

But beyond the sphere of these monastic institutions, the state of matters from an agricultural point of view could hardly have been worse. This was mainly due to the fact that, so far as Berwickshire and some parts of Dumfriesshire are concerned, the tiller of the soil was never sure that he would have the privilege of reaping his harvest. By the time the grain was ready for the sickle an English army might invade the country and give the crops to the flames. This happened so frequently, and the feeling of insecurity thus became so great, that husbandry at times was all but abandoned. There can be no doubt that this was one prime factor in creating the poverty which was so long a marked and painful feature of the life of the Scottish Borders.

On the other hand, there was a considerable extent of country, extending from Jedburgh to Canobie, which was practically unfit for cultivation. The Royal Forest of Ettrick was of great extent, and was reserved as a happy hunting ground for the Court and its minions. Along the banks of the Teviot and the Liddle, embracing a considerable portion of Roxburgh and Dumfries, the extent of land capable of cultivation was by no means great, even though it had been found practical, or politic, to put it under the ploughshare. This region is one of the most mountainous in the South of Scotland, and in ancient times abounded in quaking bogs and inaccessible morasses. This district naturally became the favourite haunt of the Border reiver. Here he could find ways and means either of securing his own cattle, or those he had “lifted,” from the search of the enemy by driving them into some inaccessible retreat, the entrance to which it was difficult, if not impossible, for strangers to discover.

Of the general condition of the country at this time a vivid picture has been given by Æneas Sylvius, one of the Piccolomini, afterwards Pius II., who visited Scotland in the year 1413. He thus writes:—“Concerning Scotland he found these things worthy of repetition. It is an island joined to England, stretching two hundred miles to the North, and about fifty broad: a cold country, fertile of few sorts of grain, and generally void of trees, but there is a sulphureous stone dug up which is used for firing. The towns are unwalled, the houses commonly built without lime, and in villages roofed with turf, while a cow’s hide supplies the place of a door. The commonalty are poor and uneducated, have abundance of flesh and fish, but eat bread as a dainty. The men are small in stature, but bold; the women fair and comely, and prone to the pleasures of love, kisses being esteemed of less consequence than pressing the hand is in Italy. The wine is all imported; the horses are mostly small ambling nags, only a few being preserved entire for propagation; and neither curry-combs nor reins are used. From Scotland are imported into Flanders hides, wool, salt, fish, and pearls. Nothing gives the Scots more pleasure than to hear the English dispraised. The country is divided into two parts, the cultivated lowlands, and the region where agriculture is not used. The wild Scots have a different language, and sometimes eat the bark of trees. There are no wolves. Crows are new inhabitants, and therefore the tree in which they build becomes royal property. At the winter, when the author was there, the day did not exceed four hours.”

That there are several inaccuracies in this account goes without saying, but they are just such mistakes as a person making a hurried run through the country would very naturally commit. Wolves and crows were much more plentiful at that period than the inhabitants wished, as may be seen from various Acts of Parliament which were passed in order to promote their destruction. But the general description of the country here given agrees, in its main details, with other contemporary records, and presents a truly dismal picture of the poverty of the people.

Even as late as the 16th century there were few well-formed roads, other than those already mentioned. There were no posts, either for letters or for travelling. Education was confined to the library of the Convent, where the sons of the barons were taught dialectic and grammar. Society consisted mainly of the agricultural class, who were half enslaved to the lords of the soil, and obliged to follow them in war. The people were fearfully rude and ignorant, much more so than the English—in this respect, indeed, contrasting unfavourably with almost any other European State. Few of them could either read or write; even the most powerful barons were often unable to sign their names. As might be expected in such a condition of society, the nobles exercised great oppression on the poor. The Government of the country was a mere faction of the nobility as against all the rest. It is said that when a man had a suit at law he felt he had no chance without using “influence.” Was he to be tried for an offence, his friends considered themselves bound to muster in arms around the court to see that he got justice; that is, to get him off unpunished if they could. Men were accustomed to violence in all forms as to their daily bread. “The hail realm of Scotland was sae divided in factions that it was hard to get any peaceable man as he rode out the hie way, to profess himself openly, either to be a favourer to the King or Queen. All the people were castin sae lowss, and were become of sic dissolute minds and actions, that nane was in account but he that could either kill or reive his neighbours.”[15]

Such facts as these indicate in a remarkable way the extraordinary weakness of the executive government. It is abundantly evident that the Scottish Parliament was most exemplary in passing measures for the protection and amelioration of the people, but as Buchanan naively remarks, “There was ane Act of Parliament needed in Scotland, a decree to enforce the observance of the others.” The King’s writ did not run in many districts of the country. The unfortunate element in the situation was that it did not always coincide with the interests of the nobles to see that the decrees of the Estates were carried into effect; and as a general rule what did not happen to accord with their humour was set aside as of no moment. The consequence was that many Acts of Parliament, relating especially to the abnormal condition of the Borders, were no sooner passed than they were treated as practically obsolete. This accounts for the curious fact that we find the legislature returning again and again, at brief intervals, to the consideration of the same questions, and issuing orders which might as well never have been recorded. When the counsels of a nation are thus divided, and especially when those who are charged with the administration of the law pay no regard to it, in their own persons, it would be a marvel if lawlessness in its multifarious forms did not become the dominant characteristic of the great body of the people. That this was the result produced is painfully evident. The great barons were practically supreme within their own domains, for while the execution of the laws might nominally pertain to the Sovereign, the soldiers belonged to their Chiefs, and were absolutely at their command. Laws which cannot be enforced at the point of the sword must in the nature of the case remain practically inoperative. This unfortunate condition of affairs was a fruitful source of misery and mischief, especially on the Borders, where the prevalence of the clan-system conferred on the Chiefs the most arbitrary and far-reaching powers. Had there been any possibility of bringing the Border barons under effective governmental control “the thefts, herschips, and slaughters,” for which this district was so long notorious, would have been in great part prevented. These men not only incited to crime, but standing as they did between the ruler and the ruled, they threw the ægis of their protection over the lawless and disobedient.

If only that nation is to be reckoned happy which has few laws, but is accustomed to obey them, then Scotland, and the Borders in particular, must have been in a most unfortunate condition during a lengthened period of its history. The laws passed were numerous; the obedience rendered most difficult to discover. But while these enactments rarely succeeded in producing the results aimed at, they are, notwithstanding, exceedingly valuable to the historian because of the interesting light they cast on the conditions and habits of the people. In the year 1567, in the first Parliament of James VI., an important Act was passed, entitled “Anent Theft and Receipt of Theft, Taking of Prisoners by Thieves, or Bands for Ransoms, and Punishment of the same.” It relates especially to the Sheriffdoms of Selkirk, Roxburgh, Peebles, Dumfries, and Edinburgh, “and other inhabitants of the remanent Shires of the Realm,” bearing that it is not unknown of the continual theft, reif, and oppression committed within the bounds of the said Sheriffdoms, by thieves, traitors, and other ungodly persons, having neither fear of God nor man, which is the chief cause of the said thefts. And that the said thieves and “broken men” commit daily “thefts, reifs, herschips, murders, and fire raisings” upon the peaceable subjects of the country, “besides also takes sundrie of them,” detains them in captivity as prisoners, ransoms them, “or lettis them to borrowis for their entrie again.” In like manner, it is said, divers subjects of the inland, take and sit under their assurance paying them blackmail, and permitting them to “reif, herrie, and oppress their nichtbouris” with their knowledge and in their sight, without resistance or contradiction.

To remove these inconveniences it was statute and ordained that whoever receipted, fortified, maintained, or gave meat, harbourage, or assistance to any thieves in their theftuous stealing or deeds, either coming thereto, or passing therefrom, or intercommunes or trysts with them, without licence of the keeper of the country, where the thief remains shall be called therefore at particular diets “criminally other airt and pairt in their theftuous deeds,” or proceeded against civilly, after fifteen days warning, “without diet or tabill.” It was further ordained under pain of lese majesty, that no true and faithful lieges taken by these men should be holden to enter to them, all bonds to the contrary notwithstanding. And if anyone should happen to take and apprehend any of the said thieves, either in passing to commit said theft, or in the actual doing thereof, or in their returning thencefrom, he was in no case to set them at liberty; but to present them before the Justice, and his deputies in the tolbooth of Edinburgh, within fifteen days, “gif their takeris justifye them not to the death them selfis.” Further, it was ordained that none take assurance, or sit under assurance of said thieves, or pay them blackmail, or give them meat or drink, under pain of death. In like manner when thieves repaired to steal or reive within the incountry the lieges were commanded to rise, cry, and raise the fray and follow them, coming or going, on horse and foot, for recovery of the goods stolen, and apprehending of their persons, under pain of being held partakers in the said theft. It was also added that if any open and notorious thief came to a house, the owner of the house might apprehend him without reproach.[16]

These enactments are at once minute and comprehensive, and had the power to enforce them corresponded in any degree with the good intentions of those who framed them, there would have been a considerable change produced in the affairs of the Border. But the truth is these so-called statutes were but little better than mere “pious opinions,” reflecting credit on those responsible for them, but producing no impression, or next to none, on the country. Not many years after the passing of these Acts we find the Estates busy at work again passing measure after measure for the quieting of the disordered subjects on the Borders, for the staunching of theft and slaughter, and the punishment of “wicked thieves and limmers.” Things had gone from bad to worse. Every man’s hand was against his neighbour. Clan rose against clan; the Scotts and the Kerrs, the Maxwells and Johnstones, were constantly embroiled in petty warfare, the results of which, however, were sometimes most disastrous. “The broken men”—Græmes, Armstrongs, Bells, and other inhabitants of the Debateable land—finding it either unsafe or inconvenient to commit such frequent “herschips” on the English border, betook themselves with all their accustomed enthusiasm to the plundering of their Scottish neighbours. They are described as “delighting in all mischief, and maist unnaturally and cruelly wasting and destroying, harrying and slaying, their own neighbours.” The Privy Council at last determined to deal with these matters, and arranged to sit on the first day of every month in the year for this purpose. Trial and injunction was to be taken of the diligence done in the execution of things directed the month preceding, and of things necessary and expedient to be put in execution during the next month to come, and that a special register be kept of all that shall happen to be done and directed in matters concerning the quietness and good rule of the Borders. But to make assurance doubly sure it was also ordained at the same time that all landlords and bailies of the lands, should find sufficient caution and surety, under pain of rebellion, to bring all persons guilty of “reife, theft, receipt of theft, depredations, open and avowed fire-raisings, upon deadly feud, protected and maintained by their masters,” before “our sovereign lord’s Justice,” to underlie the law for the same. Failing their doing so, the landlords and bailies were bound to satisfy the party skaithed, and to refund, content, and pay to them their “herschips and skaithes.” And further, the chief of the clan, in the bounds where “broken men” dwell, and to which “broken men” repair in their passing to steal and reive, or returning therefrom, shall be bound to make the like stay and arrestment, and publication as the landlords or bailies, and be subject to the like redress, criminal and civil, in case of their failure and negligence. In addition to the foregoing ordinances, it was resolved that all Captains, Chiefs, and Chieftains of the clans, dwelling on the lands of divers landlords, shall enter pledges for those over whom they exercise authority, upon fifteen days’ notice, before his Highness and his secret Council, said pledges to be placed as his Highness shall deem convenient—“for the good rule in time coming, according to the conditions above written whereunto the landlords and bailies are subject; under the pain of the execution of the said pledges to the death, and no redress made by the persons offended for whom the pledges lie.”

We also learn from another Act of Parliament, passed at the same time, that all pledges received for the good rule and quietness of the Border shall be placed on the north side of the water of Forth, without exception or dispensation; and the pledges for the good rule of the Highlands and Isles, to be placed on the south side of the same water of Forth.

But one of the most extraordinary Acts passed by this Parliament was an Act forbidding the Scottish Borderers to marry the daughters of the “broken men” or thieves of England, as it was declared this was “not only a hindrance to his Majesty’s service and obedience, but also to the common peace and quietness betwixt both the Realms.” It was therefore statute and ordained “that nane of the subjects presume to take upon hand to marrie with onie English woman, dwelling in the opposite Marches, without his Highness’ express licence, had and obtained to that effect, under the great Seal; under the paine of death, and confiscation of all his goods moveable; and this be a special point of dittay in time cumming.”

These enactments were doubtless well meant, and under ordinary circumstances might have been expected to bring about beneficial results; but unfortunately they were treated with callous indifference. No improvement was effected. The “broken men” were not to be intimidated by such measures. They laughed at Parliament, and scorned the laws. This is brought out in the most conclusive manner in the records of the State Paper Office, as we shall have occasion to point out in succeeding chapters. But proof of another kind lies ready to hand. An Act of Parliament was passed in 1593, just six years after those already noticed, in which complaint is made of the rebellious contempt of his Highness’ subjects who, without regard of their dutiful obedience, pass daily to the horn, “for not finding of law surety;” and “for not subscribing of assurances in matter of feud,” and for “dinging and stricking his Majesty’s messengers,” in execution of their offices. Notice is also taken of some who nightly and daily reive, foray, and commit open theft and oppression: “for remead whereof, our said Sovereign Lord, ordains the Acts and laws made before to be put to execution, and ratifies and approves the same in all points.” It was further ordained that no respite or remission was to be granted at any time hereafter to any person or persons that pass to the horn for “theft, reif, slauchter, burning or heir-shippe, while the party skaithed be first satisfied; and gif ony respite or remission shall happen to be granted, before the partie grieved be first satisfied, the samin shall be null and of nane avail, be way of exception or reply, without any further declaritour; except the saidis remissiones and respittes be granted, for pacifying of the broken Countries and Borders.”[17]

These may be regarded as fair samples of the long list of measures passed at different times by the Scottish Parliament for the regulation of Border affairs during the reign of the Jameses. In reading them one is forcibly reminded of a remark made by one of the English wardens, that “things were very tickle on the Scottish Border.” No respect was paid to the law, either by the Chiefs or their clansmen. In the preface to Cary’s Memoirs, these Scottish Borderers are described as “equalling the Caffirs in the trade of stealing, and the Hottentots in ignorance and brutality.” This savage indictment is borne out by Sir William Bowes who, in a letter to Burghley in the year 1593—nearly forty years after the Reformation—thus writes:—“The opposite wardens and officers being always Borderers bred and dwelling there, also cherish favourites and strengthen themselves by the worst disposed, to support their factions. And as they are often changed by the King for their misdemeanours, the new man always refuses to answer for attempts before his time. Cessford the warden cannot answer for the whole Middle March, but must seek to Fernihirst for one part, and Buccleuch for Teviotdale.

“Execrable murders are constantly committed, whereof 4 new complaints were made to the lords in the few days they were here, and 3 others this month in Atholstonmoor. The gentlemen of the Middle March recount out of their memories nearly 200 Englishmen, miserably murdered by the Scots, since the tenth year of her Majesty’s reign, for which no redress hath at all been made.... I have presumed to testify this much to your lordship more tediously than I should; yet will be ready to do more particularly, if you direct me. Praying you to receive from some other, equally heedful of truth—and in meantime trusting you will cover my name from undeserved offence—I pray God to make you an instrument under our gracious sovereign to cure the aforesaid gangrene thus noisomely molesting the foot of this kingdom.”[18]

This “gangrene” was of long standing, and as we shall find was not to be easily eradicated.

But while poverty,—largely due to circumstances over which the people had no control,—and lawlessness,—the result of the inherent weakness of the central government,—had much to do in creating that condition of affairs on the Borders which we have briefly described, there were other and perhaps more potent causes which demand consideration. Foremost among these was the almost entire absence of the restraints and sanctions of religion. In one of the Acts of Parliament already noticed it is significantly declared that one of the principal causes of the lawlessness of the Borders was that “they had neither the fear of God nor man.” To those familiar with certain phases of Border history this may appear somewhat anomalous. At an early period in the religious life of Scotland this district was brought under the influence of the Evangel by St. Aidan and St. Cuthbert. That the work of these missionaries was signally successful, is shown in the large number of churches planted all over the Borderland. After the time of Queen Margaret, whose influence in certain directions was almost marvellously potent, the great religious houses of the Borders rose in rapid succession, such as Melrose, Kelso, and Jedburgh, each a centre and source of religious and social wellbeing. The moral life of the people, notwithstanding the existence of such beneficent institutions, may have been of an indifferent character; but what the state of matters might have been, had those places, and what they represented, never been in existence at all, it is impossible to conceive. It was a true instinct which led the people to regard the Abbey of Haddington as the “Lamp of the Lothians.” And the same designation might have been applied with equal appropriateness to every Abbey in the country. Those places for many generations represented all that was highest and best in the thought and life of Mediævalism. Here law and order were supreme. Round those religious houses industrial, orderly communities sprang up, whose influence was felt throughout the length and breadth of the land. The Monasteries may deserve all that was said of them in later times, but, throughout a considerable period of their history, their influence was almost wholly beneficial. Scotland owes much to them, and there is no reason why the fact should not be generously recognised. It is no doubt true that, for some considerable time before the Reformation, those great institutions had sadly degenerated. “Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked.” The time came when they had, perforce, to yield to those disintegrating processes which usually herald the advent of reform. The old order changeth. The new wine of a democratic Protestantism, in which the claims of the individual, his right to think for himself, and form his own judgments, are prominent ingredients, agreed but indifferently with the old bottles of an earlier Faith and Polity. And so the Monasteries disappeared.

But it was long ere the new light of the Reformation made itself practically felt on the Borders. When the influences which had hitherto been so potent ceased to operate, a condition of religious and moral chaos supervened. Hundreds of churches were left without ministers. Whole districts practically lapsed into barbarism. For at least fifty years after the Reformation, the Scottish Borders were to all intents and purposes out-with the influence of the Church. Even as late as the Covenanting period their condition had not greatly improved. “We learn,” says Sir Walter Scott, “from a curious passage in the life of Richard Cameron, a fanatical preacher during what is called the time of ‘persecution,’ that some of the Borderers retained till a late period their indifference about religious matters. After having been licensed at Haughead, in Teviotdale, he was, according to his biographer, sent first to preach in Annandale. ‘He said, How can I go there? I know what sort of people they are.’ But Mr Welch said, ‘Go your way, Ritchie, and set the fire of hell to their tails.’ He went, and the first day he preached on the text—How shall I put thee among the children, &c. In the application he said, ‘Put you among the children! the offspring of thieves and robbers! we have all heard of Annandale thieves.’ Some of them got a merciful cast that day, and told afterwards that it was the first field meeting they had ever attended, and that they went out of mere curiosity, to see a minister preach in a tent, and people sit on the ground.”[19]

During the period of religious decadence, prior to the Reformation, a remarkable custom, not unknown elsewhere, prevailed on the Borders. Owing to the scarcity of clergymen, especially in the Vales of Ewes, Esk, and Liddle, the rites of the church were only intermittently celebrated, a circumstance which gave rise to what was known as Hand-fasting. Loving couples who met at fairs and other places of public resort agreed to live together for a certain period, and if, when the book-a-bosom man, as the itinerant clergyman was called, came to pay his yearly visit to the district, they were still disposed to remain in wedlock they received the blessing of the church; but if it should happen that either party was dissatisfied, then the union might be terminated, on the express condition, however, that the one desiring to withdraw should become responsible for the maintenance of the child, or children, which may have been born to them. “The connection so formed was binding for one year only, at the expiration of which time either party was at liberty to withdraw from the engagement, or in the event of both being satisfied the ‘hand-fasting’ was renewed for life. The custom is mentioned by several authors, and was by no means confined to the lower classes, John Lord Maxwell and a sister of the Earl of Angus being thus contracted in January 1577.”[20]

IV.

RAIDS AND FORAYS.

o give anything like an adequate account of the various raids and forays, on the one side of the Border and the other, would fill many volumes. These raids, as we have already noticed, began at an early period, and were carried on almost without intermission for at least three hundred years. The Armstrongs and Elliots in Liddesdale, and many of the other noted clans in Merse and Teviotdale, were “always riding.” As an English warden remarks in one of his despatches to the Government:—“They lie still never a night”—a statement which may be accepted as literally true. At some point or other along the Border line, invasions either on the part of the Scots or English were constantly occurring. In this respect, more especially during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the Scots were perhaps the principal offenders. But as a general rule their invasions, though frequent, were on a comparatively small scale, partaking rather of the nature of forays than of raids. They would hurriedly cross the Border of an evening, drive together as many cattle or sheep as they could find, and then hasten back with all possible speed to their own country. Sometimes, if they were compelled to go a considerable distance inland, they would hide during the day in some quiet glen, within the enemy’s territory, and then sally forth as soon as the moon lent her kindly aid, and accomplish with the utmost expedition the task which had brought them thither. It is said that these incursions were marked with the desire of spoil rather than of slaughter, a statement which may be true so far as forays generally are concerned, but which certainly does not apply to the more important raids. These latter incursions were marked with every element of ferocity and bloodshed. In some of the raids conducted by Cessford and Buccleuch, in the 15th century, in Redesdale and Tynedale, many lives were sacrificed, and all who offered resistance were put to the sword. Hertford, Wharton, and others, in their raids upon the Scottish Border seemed often more intent on shedding blood than securing booty. The statement that these incursions were marked with a desire of spoil rather than bloodshed must therefore be accepted cum grano salis.

It would seem that the season of year most favourable to reiving was between Michaelmas and Martinmas. The reason of this is not difficult to discover. The reivers in their expeditions hardly ever went on foot. They rode small hackneys—hardy, well-built animals—on which they cantered over hill and dale, moor and meadow, a circumstance which gained for them the name of hobylers. In the late autumn the moors and mosses were drier than at any other season of the year, which made riding, in certain districts especially, a much more easy and expeditious undertaking. Then the winter supply had to be secured. The beef tub required replenishing, and as the “mart” was rarely ever fed at home it had to be sought for elsewhere. It was a case of all hands to work, and every available horse or rider was brought into requisition.

Leslie has given a graphic description of the methods adopted by the Border reivers to secure their booty. Everything was gone about in the most orderly and deliberate manner. He says that the reivers never told their beads with so much devotion as when they were setting out on a marauding expedition, and expected a good booty as a recompense of their devotion! “They sally out of their own borders in troops, through unfrequented ways and many intricate windings. In the day time they refresh themselves and their horses in lurking places they had pitched on before, till they arrive in the dark at those places they have a design upon. As soon as they have seized upon their booty, they, in like manner, return home in the night; through blind ways and fetching many a compass. The more skilful any captain is to pass through these wild deserts, crooked turnings, and deep precipices, in the thickest mists and darkness, his reputation is the greater, and he is looked upon as a man of an excellent head, and they are so very cunning, that they seldom have their booty taken from them, unless sometimes, when by the help of bloodhounds, following them exactly upon the track, they may chance to fall into the hands of their adversaries. When being taken they have so much persuasive eloquence, and so many smooth and insinuating words at command, that if they do not move their judges, nay and even their adversaries, to have mercy, yet they incite them to admiration and compassion.”

Such a skilful “Captain,” as is here referred to, was the famous Hobbie Noble, who terminated his adventurous career in “Merrie Carlisle,” where so many famous freebooters, at one time or other, have paid the last penalty of the law. Speaking of himself, he says:—

“But will ye stay till the day gae down,
Until the night come o’er the ground,
And I’ll be a guide worth ony twa
That may in Liddisdale be found!
“Though the night be dark as pick and tar,
I’ll guide ye o’er yon hill sae hie;
And bring ye a’ in safety back,
If ye’ll be true and follow me.”

But the skill of the leader of the foray was not always sufficient to bring his followers safely back to their homes and families. When the bloodhounds were put on the track it was often a matter of the greatest difficulty for the thieves to elude their pursuers.

“The russet bloodhound wont, near Annand’s stream,
To trace the sly thief with avenging foot
Close as an evil conscience.”

These useful animals were kept at different points along the Border, and as they rendered most important services, we are not surprised to learn that a good sleuth-hound often sold as high as a hundred crowns.

It may be interesting, before proceeding to give an account of some of the more famous raids, to glance briefly at the manner in which the raiders were armed and accoutred for the fray. Froissart has given the following account of the Scottish Borderers, and Scottish soldiers generally, as they appeared towards the close of the fourteenth century. “The Scots,” he says, “are bold, hardy, and much inured to war. When they make their invasions into England, they march from twenty to four-and-twenty leagues without halting, as well by night as by day; for they are all on horseback, except the camp followers, who are on foot. The knights and esquires are mounted on large bay horses, the common people on little Galloways. They bring no carriages with them, on account of the mountains they have to pass in Northumberland; neither do they carry with them any provisions of bread and wine, for the habits of sobriety are such in time of war that they will live a long time on flesh half sodden, without bread, and drink the river water without wine. They have therefore no occasion for pots or pans, for they dress the flesh of their cattle in the skins after they have taken them off; and being sure to find plenty of them in the country which they invade, they carry none with them. Under the flaps of his saddle each man carries a broad plate of metal, behind the saddle a little bag of oatmeal. When they have eaten too much of the sodden flesh, and their stomach appears weak and empty, they place this plate over the fire, mix with water their oatmeal, and when the plate is heated they put a little of the paste upon it and make a thin cake like a cracknel or biscuit, which they eat to warm their stomachs; it is therefore no wonder they perform a longer day’s march than other soldiers. In this manner the Scots entered England, destroying and burning everything as they passed. They seized more cattle than they knew what to do with. Their army consisted of four thousand men at arms, knights, and esquires, well mounted, besides twenty thousand men, bold and hardy, armed after the manner of their country, and mounted upon little hackneys that are never tied up or dressed, but are turned immediately after the day’s march to pasture on the heath or in the field.”[21]

It may be said that this description—which, it may be remarked, is as graphic in outline as it is minute in detail—applies rather to the regular army than to those undisciplined marauding bands which infested the Borders, and to which the name “reivers” or “mosstroopers” is usually assigned. This is no doubt true. At the same time, it must not be forgotten that many of the more important raids were undertaken by large bodies of troops, numbering sometimes three or four thousand men. This much at least is certain that the Border reiver was always well mounted, and well armed with lance or spear, which, on occasion, he could use with much dexterity and skill. With a steel cap on his head, a jack slung over his shoulders, a pistol or hagbut at his belt, he was ever ready for the fray, and prepared to give or take the hardest blows. He was naturally fond of fighting. Like Dandie Dinmont’s terriers he never could get enough of it, and must have found life peculiarly irksome when he was compelled to desist from his favourite pastime. He lived in the saddle, and was as unaccustomed to the ordinary occupations of the world as the wild Arab of the desert.

Even to enumerate the raids and forays on the one side or the other, of which some record has been left either in the Histories of the two Kingdoms, or in the archives of the State Paper Office, would be an almost endless task, and moreover would serve no really useful purpose. The details of the “burnings,” “herschips,” and “slaughters,” which were the necessary concomitants of these invasions, are much the same in all cases. It is a dreary tale of theft and oppression, bloodshed and murder. The following incidents may be taken as fairly illustrative examples.

During the reign of Henry VIII. the relations between the two kingdoms were often of a most unsatisfactory and unsettled character. This was due to a variety of causes, partly political and partly religious. The same difficulties cropped up in the subsequent reigns of Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth, and the consequence was that war clouds were ever hanging, dark and threatening, on the horizon. The mutual antagonism between the two countries fostered the raiding tendencies of both kingdoms. The Scots were intent on despoiling their more wealthy neighbours, and the English never missed an opportunity of humiliating and crippling their ancient foes.

Two of the most destructive invasions, or raids, on the part of the English were conducted by the Earl of Hertford and Sir Ralph Eure. The former invaded the country both by sea and land. Edinburgh and Leith suffered severely. The Abbey and Palace of Holyrood were given to the flames. All along the east coast, and southwards as far as Merse and Teviotdale, marked the steps of the retreating and relentless invaders. Henry’s savage instructions were faithfully carried out. When Hertford set out on this expedition he was commanded “to put all to fire and sword, to burn Edinburgh town, and to raze and deface it; when you have sacked it, and gotten what you can out of it, as that it may remain for ever a perpetual memory of the vengeance of God lighted upon it, for their falsehood and disloyalty. Do what you can out of hand, and without long tarrying, to beat down and overthrow the Castle, sack Holyrood-house, and as many towns and villages about Edinburgh as ye conveniently can; sack Leith and burn and subvert it, and all the rest, putting man, woman, and child to fire and sword, without exception, where any resistance shall be made against you; and this done, pass over to the Fife land, and extend the extremities and destructions in all towns and villages whereunto you may reach conveniently, and not forgetting amongst all the rest so to spoil and turn upside down the Cardinal’s town of St. Andrews, as the upper stone may be the nether, and not one stick stand by another, sparing no creature alive within the same, specially such as in friendship or blood be allied to the Cardinal.”[22]

This hideous policy on the part of the English King was fruitful mainly of bitter memories. He did not accomplish the object he had in view, but he certainly succeeded in engendering in the Scottish mind a feeling of the most bitter hostility. It produced, however, one good result. It alienated from the English monarch some of those nobles who had for some time been wavering in their allegiance to the Scottish throne, and had been, either secretly or openly, lending their aid to further the machinations of the English government.

But destructive as Hertford’s invasion proved (which has been well described as only a foray on a large scale), it was totally eclipsed by the raid undertaken by Sir Ralph Eure in the following year, 1544. He crossed the Scottish Border with a considerable army, and laid waste nearly the whole of Merse and Teviotdale, reducing that large and important district to a blackened desert. Jedburgh and Kelso were burnt to the ground, and the surrounding country plundered and destroyed. “The whole number of towns, towers, stedes, barnekins, parish churches, bastel-houses, seized, destroyed, and burnt, in all the Border country, was an hundred and ninety-two, Scots slain four hundred, prisoners taken eight hundred and sixteen, nolt ten thousand three hundred and eighty-six, sheep twelve thousand four hundred and ninety-six, gayts (goats) two hundred, bolls of corn eight hundred and fifty, insight gear—an indefinite quantity.

“The great part of these devastations were committed in the Mers and Teviotdale.... The other commanders of chief note, besides Sir Ralph Eure, were Sir Brian Laiton and Sir George Bowes. On the 17th July, Bowes, Laiton, and others burnt Dunse, the chief town of the Mers, and John Carr’s son with his garrison entered Greenlaw, and carried off a booty of cattle, sheep, and horses. On the 19th of the same month, the men of Tyndale and Ridsdale, returning from a road into Tiviotdale, fought with the laird of Ferniherst and his company, and took himself and his son John prisoners. On July 24th the Wark garrison, the Captain of Norham Castle, and H. Eure, burnt long Ednim, made many prisoners, took a bastel-house strongly kept, and got a booty of forty nolt and thirty horses, besides those on which their prisoners were mounted, each on a horse. August 2d, the captain of Norham burnt the town of Home, hard to the castle gates, with the surrounding stedes. September 6th, Sir Ralph Eure burnt Eikford church and town, the barnekyn of Ormiston, and won by assault the Moss Tower, burnt it, and slew thirty-four people within it; he likewise burnt several other places in that neighbourhood, and carried off more than five hundred nolt and six hundred sheep, with a hundred horseload of spoils got in the tower. September 27th, the men of the east and part of the middle march won the church of Eccles by assault, and slew eight men in the abbey and town, most part gentlemen of head sirnames; they also took several prisoners, and burnt and spoiled the said abbey and town. On the same day the garrison of Berwick brought out of the east end of the Mers six hundred bolls of corn, and took prisoner Patrick Home, brother’s son to the laird of Ayton. November 5th, the men of the middle march burnt Lessudden, in which were sixteen strong bastel-houses, slew several of the owners, and burnt much corn. November 9th, Sir George Bowes and Sir Brian Laiton burnt Dryburgh, a market town, all except the church, with much corn, and brought away a hundred nolt, sixty nags, an hundred sheep, and much other booty, spoilage, and insight-gear.”[23]

This record is an instructive one. It shows how these merciless raiders were dominated by the spirit of destruction and revenge. Nothing was spared which it was possible for them to destroy. This invasion must have proved peculiarly vexatious and disheartening to the Scottish Borderers. Flodden had left them terribly crippled. The damage they had sustained was not only of a material kind—the loss of men and resources—it was also, to a certain extent, moral and intellectual. They had become utterly disheartened, and it was some considerable time before they regained their wonted confidence and intrepidity:

“Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the Border!
The English, for ance, by guile wan the day:
The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land, are cauld in the clay.
“We’ll hear nae mair lilting, at the ewe milking;
Women and bairns are heartless and wae:
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning—
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede awae.”

The darkest part of the night precedes the dawn. Help was forthcoming from an unexpected quarter. Henry had promised to give Eure a grant of all the land he could conquer in Merse, Teviotdale, and Lauderdale, and it so happened that the greater part of the district named belonged to Angus, who was then in disgrace at the Scottish Court, and for some time had been currying favour with the English King. When he learned what had taken place, his indignation was unbounded. He swore that “if Ralph Eure dared to act upon the grant, he would write his sasine, or instrument of possession, on his skin with sharp pens and bloody ink.” Scotland has not unfrequently been deserted by her nobles at the most critical periods of her history, but just as often has she been saved by their valour and patriotism. On the present occasion, Angus was not moved to action, perhaps, by any really patriotic feeling. Had his own interests not been imperilled, he would in all probability have remained an idle spectator of the ruin and devastation which, like a flood, was rushing over the land. Be this as it may, he acted with promptitude and effect. Having been joined by the Regent, who brought with him a small and hastily-gathered force, Angus challenged the English army at Melrose; and, though at first he was compelled to retreat, he hung upon the rear of the enemy until, joined by Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch and the redoubtable Norman Leslie, he gave them battle on Ancrum Moor. The English, flushed with confidence by their former successes, rushed precipitately upon the Scottish army, believing that their ranks had fallen into confusion, and were preparing for flight. It was not long ere they were undeceived. The Scots were ready for the encounter, and in a short time completely routed the formidable host by which they were assailed. The battle speedily became a slaughter. Sir Ralph Eure and Sir Brian Layton both lay dead on the field, a thousand prisoners were taken, among them being many persons of rank, for whom high ransoms were exacted. It is said that the peasantry of the neighbourhood, hitherto only spectators of the short conflict, drew near to intercept and cut down the English; and women, whose hearts had been steeled against the fugitives by their atrocious barbarities, joined in the pursuit, and spurred on the conquerors by calling upon them to “remember Broomhouse.” One of these heroines has been immortalized. Her monument may still be seen in the neighbourhood of Ancrum. On it were inscribed the following lines:—

“Fair maiden Lilliard lies under this stane,
Little was her stature, but great was her fame;
Upon the English loons she laid many thumps,
And when they cutted off her legs she fought upon her stumps.”

Some may be disposed to think that the devastations caused by Hertford and Sir Ralph Eure must be exceptional; that the raiding and reiving must have gone on much more quietly than such accounts would lead us to suppose. But this is not so. The Borders were kept in a constant state of turmoil. They had no sooner recovered from one invasion than they were subjected to another. Long before Hertford’s time, for example, Lord Dacre, one of the English wardens, made a succession of the most disastrous raids on the Scottish Border, and carried off immense quantities of booty. He was exultant over his good fortune. Writing under date October 29, 1513, he says:—“On Tewsday at night last past, I sent diverse of my tennents of Gillislande to the nombre of lx. personnes in Eskdalemoor upon the Middill Merches, and there brynt vii. howses, tooke and brougth away xxxvj. head of cattle and much insight. On weddinsday at thre of the clok efter noon, my broder Sir Christopher assembled diverse of the kings subjects beyng under my reull, and roode all night into Scotland, and on Thurisday, in the mornynge, they began upon the said Middill Merchies and brynt Stakeheugh, with the hamletts belonging to them, down, Irewyn bwrne, being the chambrelain of Scotland owne lands and undre his reull, continewally birnyng from the Breke of day to oone of the clok after noon, and there wan, tooke and brought awey cccc. hede of cattell, ccc. shepe, certaine horses and verey miche insight, and slew two men, hurte and wounded diverse other persones and horses, and then entered Ingland ground again at vij. of the clok that night.”[24]

Such a record as this ought to have given great satisfaction to the Government. Lord Dacre had evidently done his utmost to impoverish and ruin the unfortunate Scottish Borderers. But the English appetite at this time was not easily satisfied. Naturally enough Dacre’s invasion led to reprisals, and so successful had the Scots been in their forays on the opposite Border that the English Government blamed their representative for not having prevented these raids. In reply to these rather unjust complaints, Dacre wrote saying that “for oone cattell taken by the Scotts we have takyn, won and brought awey out of Scotland a hundreth; and for oone shepe two hundreth of a surity. And has for townships and housis, burnt in any of the said Est, Middill, and West Marches within my reull, fro the begynnyng of this warr unto this daye,... I assure your lordships for truthe that I have and hes caused to be burnt and distroyed sex times moo townys and howsys within the West and Middill Marches of Scotland, in the same season then is done to us, as I may be trusted, and as I shall evidently prove. For the watter of Liddall being xij. myles of length,... whereupon was a hundreth pleughs;... the watter of Ewse being viij. myles of length in the said Marches, whereupon was vii. pleughs,... lyes all and every of them waist now, noo corn sawn upon the said ground.... Upon the West marches I have burnt and distroyed the townships of Annand (together with thirty-three others mentioned in detail), and the Water of Esk from Stabulgorton down to Cannonby, being vi. myles in lenth, whereas there was in all tymes passed four hundreth ploughes and above, which are now clearly waisted and noo man duelling in any of them in this daye, save oonly in the towrys of Annand Steepel and Walghapp (Wauchope).”[25]

As might be expected these inroads were not allowed to pass unredressed, as the Scots never missed an opportunity of retaliating. During the latter half of the fifteenth century they were considerably weakened by the successive wars in which they were compelled to engage in their own defence; but we find that a century later, during the reign of Elizabeth, they had completely recovered, and made their power felt in no uncertain manner. They raided upon the opposite Border without intermission, plundering all and sundry, sparing only those who were prepared to pay them blackmail, “that they might be free from their cumber.” The English wardens were comparatively helpless, owing to their lack of men and horses to defend the Marches. The Scottish reivers were not easily captured; and when it came to an encounter, unless matched against a greatly superior force, they almost invariably gave a good account of themselves. We find Eure affirming, in a letter to Cecil, under date May, 1596, that the spoils of his March amounted to the sum of £120,000, “the redress for which is so cunningly delayed that the Queen’s service is ruined.”[26] Sir Robert Cary, who was warden of the East March, has a still more doleful tale to relate. He says that when he applied to the opposite warden for redress he “got nothing but fair words.” He furnished his Government with a note of the “slaughters, stouthes, and reafes,” committed within his wardenry, which shows that the Scottish reivers were ever ready to make the most of their opportunities. The following is the suggestive list:—

“Nicolos Bolton of Mindrum slain in daylight at his own plough by Sir Robert Kerre of the Spielaw and his servants.

“Thomas Storie of Killam slain there by night by Sir Robert Kerre and his servants.

“John Selby of Pawston slain by the Burnes defending his own goods in his own house there.

“John Ewart of Corham slain on English ground at the rescue of Englishmen bringing their own goods.

“‘Reafes.’—In Hethpoole in daylight by the Davisons, Yonges, and Burnes of 40 kyen and oxen, and hurting Thomas and Peter Storye, &c., in peril of their lives. Another there by daylight by the Kerres, Yonges, and Taites, of 46 head of neate, shooting John Gray with a ‘peice’ in peril of death, and hurting one of the Brewhouses following, and taking his horse. In West Newton in daylight by James Davidson of the Burnyrigge, &c., of 5 horse and mares; another there at night taking up 2 horses, 20 neate, and insight worth 20 nobles.

“On Thomas Routledge of Killam, at night, by the Yonges, of 30 kyen and oxen. On Adam Smith of Brigge mylle at night by the Kerres, Yonges, Burnes, &c., of 20 neate, and 5 horse and mares. In Cowpland, by the Yonges, Burnes, and Kerres on Gilbert Wright, ‘by cutting up his doores with axes,’ of 30 neate, 4 horses and mares, and insight worth £10. In Haggeston by the Yonges, Halles, Pyles, and Amysleyes, ‘by cutting up their doores with axes,’ of 30 neate, 5 naegs, and hunting 4 men in peril of death. On Ralph Selby, of West wood, by the Yonges, &c., ‘by breaking his tower,’ and taking 3 geldings worth £60 sterling ‘and better.’”[27]

Then follows a long list of “Stouthes,” which it would only be a weariness to repeat. These incidents had all occurred in this March within a brief period, and may be accepted as an illustration of what was going on almost every day in the year within the respective wardenries. This game, it may be said, was indulged in with equal spirit and pertinacity on both sides. We read of two men in the Middle March in England coming into Liddesdale and carrying off 30 score kye and oxen, 31 score sheep and “gait,” 24 horse and mares, and all their insight—“the people being at their schellis, lipning for no harme, and wounded twa puir men to their deid.” At the same time, Captain Carvell, with 2000 “waigit” men, by Lord Scrope’s special command, burnt “six myle of boundis in Liddisdale, tuik sindrie puir men and band them twa and twa in leisches and cordis, and that ‘naikit,’ taking awa a 1000 kye and oxen, 2000 sheep and ‘sex scoir of hors and merris,’ to the great wrak of the puir subjects.”[28]

These forays, it must be admitted, were sometimes conducted in the most relentless and cruel spirit. We read, for example, of one “Sowerby,” near Coldbeck, having his house broken into, and himself most cruelly used. “They set him on his bare buttocks upon an hote iron, and then they burned him with an hote girdle about his bellie, and sundry other parts of his body, to make him give up his money, which they took, under £4.”[29]

Some of the most interesting episodes in Border history were not the outcome of any deep laid scheme, but the result of some sudden and unexpected emergency. It was difficult for the inhabitants of the opposite Marches to come into close contact without the greatest danger of an outbreak of hostilities. Individual families were often on friendly terms, and were ready even to assist each other on occasion. The Scots sometimes brought the English to help them to rob those who lived in their own neighbourhood; and the English, on the other hand, were equally ready to avail themselves of the assistance of those on the opposite Border when they had a similar object in view. But when they came together in their hundreds or thousands, as they sometimes did on a “Day of Truce,” then it was a matter of supreme difficulty to keep them from flying at each other’s throats. Feeling ran high, and a word, a look, was sometimes sufficient to change an otherwise peaceful meeting into one of turmoil and bloodshed.

One notable instance of this kind is known as the “Raid of the Reidswire.” Sir John Foster, the English warden, and Sir John Carmichael, the warden on the opposite March, had a meeting for the regulation of Border affairs, on the 7th July, 1575. Each warden was attended by his retinue, and by the armed clans inhabiting the district. As the balladist describes it:

“Carmichael was our warden then,
He caused the country to convene;
And the Laird’s Wat, that worthy man,
Brought in that sirname weil beseen:
The Armestranges, that aye ha’e been
A hardy house, but not a hail,
The Elliots’ honours to maintaine,
Brought down the lave o’ Liddisdale.

“Then Tividale came to wi’ spied;
The Sheriffe brought the Douglas down,
Wi’ Cranstane, Gladstain, good at need,
Baith Rewle water and Hawick town,
Beanjeddart bauldly made him boun,
Wi’ a’ the Trumbills, strong and stout;
The Rutherfoords with grit renown,
Convoy’d the town of Jedbrugh out.”

The two parties had apparently met on the best of terms. Mirth and good fellowship prevailed. The pedlars erected their temporary booths, and sold their wares. The gathering presented the appearance of a rural fair. No one could have suspected that so much bad feeling was hidden under such a fair exterior, and ready to burst forth in a moment with volcanic fury. Yet such was the case. A dispute arose betwixt the two wardens about one Farnsteen, a notorious English freebooter, against whom a bill had been “filed” by a Scottish complainer. Foster declared that he had fled from justice, and could not be found. Carmichael regarded this statement as a pretext to avoid making compensation for the felony. He bade Foster “play fair.” The English warden was indignant. Raising himself in the saddle, and stretching his arm in the direction of Carmichael, he told him to match himself with his equals!

“Carmichael bade them speik out plainlie,
And cloke no cause for ill nor good;
The other, answering him as vainlie,
Began to reckon kin and blood:

He raise, and raxed him where he stood,
And bade him match with him his marrows;
Then Tindaill heard them reason rude,
And they loot off a flight of arrows.”

The cry was raised, “To it, Tynedale,” and immediately the merry meeting was turned into a Donnybrook fair, where hard blows were given and received. The Scots at first had the worst of the encounter, and would have been completely routed had it not been for two circumstances. The men of Tynedale, conscious of their superior strength, began to rifle the “merchant packs,” and thus fell into disorder. At this juncture a band of citizens of Jedburgh, armed with fire-arms, unexpectedly, but most opportunely, appeared on the scene, and in a short time the skirmish ended in a complete victory for the Scots. Sir John Heron was slain, and Sir John Foster and many other Englishmen of rank taken prisoner.

“But after they had turned backs,
Yet Tindaill men they turn’d again,
And had not been the merchant packs,
There had been mae of Scotland slain.
But, Jesu! if the folks were fain
To put the bussing on their thies;
And so they fled, wi’ a’ their main,
Down ower the brae, like clogged bees.”

The prisoners were sent to Dalkeith, where for a short time they were detained in custody by the Earl of Morton. He ultimately dismissed them with presents of falcons, which gave rise to a saying on the Borders that for once the Regent had lost by his bargain, as he had given live hawks for dead herons,—alluding to the death of Sir John Heron.

“Who did invent that day of play,
We need not fear to find him soon;
For Sir John Forster, I dare well say,
Made us this noisome afternoon.
Not that I speak preceislie out,
That he supposed it would be perril;
But pride, and breaking out of feuid
Garr’d Tindaill lads begin the quarrel.”

“The Queen of England,” says Ridpath, “when informed of these proceedings, was very much incensed, and sent orders to her Ambassador, Killigrew, who had a little before gone to Scotland, to demand immediate satisfaction for so great an outrage. Killigrew was also directed to inform the Regent that the Queen had ordered the Earl of Huntingdon, who was then president of the Council at York and lieutenant of the northern counties, to repair to the Borders for the trial and ordering of the matter; and that she expected that Morton would meet him in person for that effect. Morton, ever studious to gratify Elizabeth, readily agreed to the proposal. The two Earls accordingly met at Fouldean, near the Berwick boundary, and continued their conferences there for some days, in the course of which Morton made such concessions, and agreed to such conditions of redress, as entirely healed the offence. Carmichael, who was considered as the principal offender, was sent as a prisoner into England, and detained a few weeks at York; but the English Court being now convinced that Forrester had been in the wrong in the beginning of the fray, the Scottish warden was dismissed with honour, and gratified with a present to effectuate the restitution of goods which Morton had engaged should be made by the subjects of Scotland, he summoned all on this side of the Forth to attend him with twenty days’ provision of victuals in an expedition to the Borders, but this summons sufficed to awe the offenders to make of themselves the restitution required.”[30]

V.

THE WARDENS OF THE MARCHES.

wing to the peculiar circumstances in which the Borders were placed, it was found necessary, for the preservation of order, and the detection and punishment of crime, to appoint special officers, or wardens, armed with the most extensive powers. On either side of the Border there were three Marches, lying opposite each other, called the East, West, and Middle Marches. The wardens were, as a general rule, officers of high rank, holding special commissions from the Crown. The English government had little difficulty in finding gentlemen of high station and proved ability to undertake the duties of such an office; but in Scotland the King was considerably circumscribed in his choice, as the Border Chiefs were accustomed to carry things with a high hand, and in any arrangements relating to the management of affairs in their own districts, their wishes and interests had, perforce, to be respected. The office of warden was regarded as belonging, by a kind of prescriptive or hereditary right, to one or other of the more prominent and powerful Border families. This policy was fraught with many disadvantages, and, it must be frankly admitted, produced the very evils it was designed to suppress. The Scottish wardens had other objects in view besides the maintenance of a certain semblance of law and order in the districts over which they ruled. They seldom lost sight of their own pecuniary interests, and frequently prostituted their high office to secure their own ends. The wardens themselves were often the principal offenders.

In the East March the warden was most generally either an Earl of Home or a Ker of Cessford. The Middle March was long under the supervision of the Earls of Bothwell and the Lords of Buccleuch. The West March was usually represented either by a Johnstone or a Maxwell.

The Scottish wardens, though invested with the most arbitrary powers, found it politic to enter into bonds of alliance with the neighbouring Chiefs, in order not only to increase their influence and power within their own wardenries, but to add to their authority when called upon to deal with questions of a more general nature. This fact reveals unmistakably the weakness of the central government of the country at this period, and indicates the important part which was played by the nobility in the administration of the affairs of the nation.

Several of these “Bonds” have been preserved. Some of them are too lengthy for quotation, but the following one—which is comparatively brief—may be taken as a fair sample of the whole. It is subscribed by the Lairds of Buccleuch, Hunthill, Bon-Jeddart, Greenhead, Cavers, and Redheugh, in favour of Sir Thomas Ker of Fernihirst, and runs as follows:—“We undersigned, inhabitants of the Middle March of this realm opposite England, understanding how it has pleased the King’s majesty our sovereign lord to make and constitute Sir Thomas Ker of Fernihirst Knight his Highness warden and justice over all the Middle March, and acknowledging how far we are in duty bound to the service by our counsel and forces to be employed in the assistance of his said warden in all things tending to the good rule and quietness of the said Middle March, and setting forth of his Highness authority against these traitors, rebels, and other malefactors to their due punishment, and defence and safety of true men. Therefore we be bound and obliged, and by the tenor hereof binds and obliges us, and every one of us, that we should truly serve the King’s Majesty our sovereign lord, and obey and assist his said warden, in the premiss, and shall concur with others in giving of our advice and counsel, or with our forces in pursuit or defence of the said thieves, traitors, rebels, and other malefactors disobedient to our sovereign lord’s authority, or disturbers of the public peace and quietness of the realm, as we shall be charged or warned by open proclamations, missives, bailies, or other the like accustomed forms as we will answer to his Highness upon our obedience at our highest charge and peril, if we shall be found remiss or negligent, we are content to be repute held and esteemed as favourers and partakers with the said thieves, traitors, rebels, and malefactors in their treasonable and wicked deeds, and to be called, pursued, and punished therefor, according to these laws in example of others.”[31]

There can be no doubt that these “Bonds” were often contracted in good faith; that is to say, those who subscribed them were honestly desirous to fulfil, both in the spirit and letter, the obligations thus undertaken. It is, however, worthy of remark that those who had thus sworn allegiance to the warden had not infrequently ends of their own to serve, which conflicted with their duty to the representatives of law and order. Thieves were harboured, or at least allowed to remain unmolested, on the estates, or within the jurisdiction, of those who had thus professedly banded themselves together for their detection and punishment. The result was that the subscribers to the “Bond” were occasionally reported to the government for their delinquencies, and prosecuted and punished for their breach of faith. Thus we find that on one occasion Walter Ker of Cessford, James Douglas of Cavers, George Rutherford of Hunthill, and Ker of Dolphingstone were convicted of art and part of the favour and assistance afforded to Robert Rutherford, called Cokburn, and John Rutherford, called Jok of the Green, and their accomplices, rebels and at the horn; permitting them to pass within their bounds continually for divers years past; for not using their utmost endeavour to hinder them from committing sundry slaughters, stouth-reifs, thefts and oppressions on the King’s poor lieges, nor ejecting the said rebels, their wives and their children, from their bounds and bailiaries, but knowingly suffering them to pass within their limits and to remain therein beyond the space of twelve hours, to commit sundry crimes during the time of their passing and reset within the shire in which they dwelt, thereby breaking, transgressing, and violating their obligation and “Bond” to the King, and incurring the pains contained in the said “Bond.”[32]

It is remarkable, considering the reputation enjoyed by the Borderers for being true to their word, that such occurrences should have to be so frequently complained of.

Unfortunately, the wardens were as little animated by a high sense of honour as those who had solemnly pledged themselves to support them in the discharge of the duties of their office. They frequently, and in some cases almost systematically, exercised the powers conferred on them, not in trying to preserve the public peace, but in wreaking vengeance on their enemies. A striking instance of this is to be seen in the conflict which was so long waged between the Johnstones and the Maxwells, and which produced endless misery and mischief throughout a wide area.

All things considered, the wardens were well remunerated for such services as they were able to render. The usual fee appears to have been £100 per annum. In 1527 the Earl of Angus had £100 for the East and a similar sum for the Middle March. In 1553 the Warden’s fee was £500, but he had to surrender the one half of the “escheats” to the authorities. When William Ker of Cessford was appointed warden of the Middle March and keeper of Liddesdale, his salary for the former office was £100, and for the latter £500. But these sums represented but a small part of the actual income. They were also allowed forage and provision for their retinue, which consisted of a guard of horsemen. They had in addition a portion of the “unlaws” or fines imposed in the warden courts, and at certain periods these must have amounted to a large sum. The law ordained that “the escheat of all thieves and trespassers that are convict of their movable goods, ought and should pertain to the warden for his travail and labours, to be used and disposed by him at his pleasure in time coming. The warden ought and should take and apprehend all and sundry our sovereign Lord’s lieges turning and carrying nolt, sheep, horses, or victuals furth of this realm into England, and bring their persons to the King’s justice, to be punished therefor; and all their goods may he escheat: the one half thereof to be applied to the King’s use, and the other half to the warden for his pains.” In addition to this, the wardens had a large share of the plunder of the various forays upon the English Border, which they either conducted in person, or winked at when undertaken by their retainers or dependants. In the “Border Papers” we are informed that on Sunday, the 17th April, 1597, the Lord Buccleuch, Keeper of Liddesdale, accompanied by twenty horse and a hundred foot, burned at noonday three onsets and dwelling-houses, barns, stables, oxhouses, &c., to the number of twenty, in the head of Tyne, cruelly burning in their houses seven innocent men, and “murdered with the sword” fourteen which had been in Scotland, and brought away the booty, the head officer with trumpet being there in person.[33] This was a frequent occurrence, especially with Buccleuch, who was never quite happy when not plundering and oppressing “the auld enemy.” From a pecuniary point of view, not to speak of other advantages, the office of warden was a highly desirable one, and was consequently eagerly sought after by the Border Chiefs.

The duties pertaining to this office may be described as of a twofold nature—the maintenance of law and order, and the protection of the districts against the encroachments and inroads of the enemy. “In the first capacity,” as has been remarked, “besides their power of control and ministerial administration, both as head stewards of all the crown tenements and manors within their jurisdiction, and as intromitting with all fines and penalties, their judicial authority was very extensive. They held courts for punishment of high treason and felony, which the English Border laws classed under the following heads:—

I. The aiding and abetting of any Scottishman, by communing, appointment, or otherwise, to rob, burn, or steal, within the realm of England.

II. The accompanying personally, of any Scottishman, while perpetrating any such offences.

III. The harbouring, concealing, or affording guidance and protection to him after the fact.

IV. The supplying Scottishmen with arms and artillery, as jacks, splents, brigantines, coats of plate, bills, halberds, battle-axes, bows and arrows, spears, darts, guns, as serpentines, half-haggs, harquibusses, currys, cullivers, hand-guns, or daggers, without special licence of the Lord-warden.

V. The selling of bread and corn of any kind, or of dressed leather, iron, or other appurtenances belonging to armour, without special licence.

VI. The selling of horses, mares, nags, or geldings to Scottish men, without licence as aforesaid.

VII. The breach of truce, by killing or assaulting subjects and liege-men of Scotland.

VIII. The assaulting of any Scottishman having a regular pass or safe-conduct.

IX. In time of war the giving tidings to the Scottish of any exploit intended against them by the warden or his officers.

X. The conveying coined money, silver or gold, also plate or bullion, into Scotland, above the value of forty shillings at one time.

XI. The betraying (in time of war) the counsel of any other Englishman tending to the annoyance of Scotland, in malice to the party, and for his own private advantage.

XII. The forging the coin of the realm.

XIII. The making appointment and holding communication with Scotchmen, or intermarrying with a Scottish woman, without licence of the wardens, and the raising of no fray against them as in duty bound.

XIV. The receiving of Scottish pilgrims with their property without licence of the wardens.

XV. The failing to keep the watches appointed for the defence of the country.

XVI. The neglecting to raise in arms to the fray, or alarm raised by the wardens or watches upon the approach of public danger.

XVII. The receiving or harbouring Scottish fugitives exiled from their own country for misdemeanours.

XVIII. The having falsely and unjustly fould (i.e., found true and relevant) the bill of any Scotchman against an Englishman, or having borne false witness on such matters.

XIX. The having interrupted or stopped any Englishman pursuing for recovering of his stolen goods.

XX. The dismissing any Scottish offender taken red-hand (i.e., in the manner) without special license of the Lord-warden.

XXI. The paying of black-mail, or protection money, whether to English or Scottish man.”[34]

The significance of these provisions cannot be mistaken. They reveal the anxiety of the English government to prevent, as far as possible, all intercourse with Scottish Borderers. The offences referred to in the foregoing list amounted to what is known as March Treason. Those who were accused of this crime were tried by a jury, and if found guilty were put to death without ceremony. “This was a very ordinary consummation,” says Sir Walter Scott, “if we can believe a story told of Lord William Howard of Naworth. While busied deeply with his studies, he was suddenly disturbed by an officer who came to ask his commands concerning the disposal of several moss-troopers who had just been made prisoners. Displeased at the interruption, the warden answered heedlessly and angerly, ‘hang them in the devil’s name;’ but when he laid aside his book, his surprise was not little, and his regret considerable, to find that his orders had been literally fulfilled.”[35]

The duties devolving upon the Scottish wardens were not, in all respects, the same as those which the English wardens were called upon to discharge. This was due to some extent to the fact that the jurisdiction of the Scottish wardens was circumscribed by the hereditary rights and privileges of the great families who, within their own territories, exercised supreme control. In addition to this, the hereditary judges had the power of repledging; that is to say, they could reclaim any accused person from courts of co-ordinate jurisdiction, and try him by their feudal authority. But while the power of the wardens was thus considerably circumscribed, they never hesitated, when they had the chance, to mete out summary punishment to all offenders. If a thief was caught red-handed, or if the evidence against him appeared at all conclusive, he was at once, and without ceremony, strung up on the nearest tree, or thrown into the “murder” pit. Indeed, the execution not unfrequently preceded the trial—a circumstance which seems to have given rise to the well-know proverb about “Jeddart Justice.” On both sides of the Border, the same haste to get rid of offenders was a noted feature of the times. This is evident from the well-known English proverb which runs thus—

“I oft have heard of Lydford law,
Where in the morn men hang and draw,
And sit in judgment after.”

The sitting in judgment, either before or after, was a formality that might often have been dispensed with, as the evidence submitted was seldom carefully sifted, or weighed. To be suspected, or accused, was regarded as almost tantamount to a plea of guilty. Such a method as this would hardly pass muster in our modern and more finical age; still it is probable that substantial justice was usually done. If those who were condemned were not always guilty of the particular crimes laid to their charge, their general record was sufficiently bad to warrant their being thus summarily dealt with.

There was, moreover, a practical difficulty in the way of minute investigation being made into each individual case. The number of those accused of various offences under the Border laws was often so great as to render an investigation of this kind all but impossible. There were few places of strength where prisoners could be retained in order to await their trial, and so it became necessary to deal with them as expeditiously as possible. “The Borderers,” it has been said, “were accustomed to part with life with as little form as civilized men change their garments.”

The mode of punishment was either by hanging or drowning. “Drowning,” says Sir Walter Scott, “is a very old mode of punishment in Scotland, and in Galloway there were pits of great depth appropriated to that punishment still called murder-holes, out of which human bones have occasionally been taken in great quantities. This points out the proper interpretation of the right of ‘pit and gallows’ (in law Latin, fossa et furca), which has, less probably, been supposed the right of imprisoning in the pit or dungeon, and that of hanging. But the meanest baron possessed the right of imprisonment. The real meaning is, the right of inflicting death either by hanging or drowning.”[36]

But the warden had other duties to discharge of a still more important nature than those already described. In time of war he was captain-general within his own wardenry, and was invested with the power of calling musters of all the able-bodied men between the age of sixteen and sixty. These men were suitably armed and mounted according to their rank and condition, and were expected to be ready either to defend their territory against invasion, or, if necessary, to invade the enemy’s country. The ancient rights and customs which the warden was expected to observe on such occasion have been thus summarised:—

“I. All intercourse with the enemy was prohibited.

II. Any one leaving the company during the time of the expedition was liable to be punished as a traitor.

III. It was appointed that all should alight and fight on foot, except those commanded by the general to act as cavalry.

IV. No man was to disturb those appointed to array the host.

V. If a soldier followed the chase on a horse belonging to his comrade, the owner of the horse enjoyed half the booty; and if he fled upon such a horse, it was to be delivered to the sheriff as a waif on his return home, under pain of treason.

VI. He that left the host after victory, though for the purpose of securing his prisoner, lost his ransom.

VII. Any one seizing his comrade’s prisoner was obliged to find security in the hands of the warden-serjeant. Disputed prisoners were to be placed in the hands of the warden, and the party found ultimately wrong to be amerced in a fine of ten pounds.

VIII. Relates to the evidence in case of such dispute. He who could bring his own countrymen in evidence, of whatsoever quality, was preferred as the true captor; failing this mode of proof, recourse was had to the prisoner’s oath.

IX. If the prisoner was of such a rank as to lead a hundred men, he was either to be dismissed upon security or ransomed, for the space of fifteen days, without leave of the warden.

X. He who dismounted a prisoner was entitled to half of his ransom.

XI. Whosoever detected a traitor was entitled to a reward of one hundred shillings; whoever aided his escape, suffered the pain of death.

XII. Relates to the firing of beacons in Scotland: the stewards of Annandale and Kirkcudbright were liable in the fine of one merk for each default in the matter.

XIII. He who did not join the army of the country upon the signal of the beacon lights, or who left it during the English invasion without lawful excuse, his goods were forfeited, and his person placed at the warden’s will.

XIV. In the case of any Englishman being taken in Scotland, he was not suffered to depart under any safe conduct save that of the King or warden; and a similar protection was necessary to enable him to return and treat of his ransom.

XV. Any Scottishman dismissing his prisoner, when a host was collected either to enter England or defend against invasion, was punished as a traitor.

XVI. In the partition of spoil, two portions were allowed to each bowman.

XVII. Whoever deserted his commander and comrades, and abode not in the field to the uttermost, his goods were forfeited, and his person liable to punishment as a traitor.

XVIII. Whoever bereft his comrade of horse, spoil, or prisoner, was liable in the pains of treason, if he did not make restitution after the right of property became known to him.”[37]

These military regulations, at once minute and comprehensive, were drawn up by William, Earl of Douglas, with the assistance of some of the most experienced Marchmen; and, with the necessary alterations, were adopted by the English—thus indicating that they were thoroughly in harmony with the military spirit of the age on both sides of the Border.

VI.

THE DAY OF TRUCE.

he arrangements made for dealing with offences against Border law, though of a primitive, were by no means of an ineffective, character. All things considered, they were perhaps as good as could have been devised in the circumstances. During the period when Border reiving was most rampant, though the population was by no means sparse, little or no provision had been made for detaining prisoners in custody. The jails were few and far between, and such as were available were generally in such an insecure and ruinous state that, unless strongly guarded, they were almost useless for the purpose for which they existed. But imprisonment had other inconveniences which militated against its being resorted to with much frequency. Prisoners had to be provided for when under “lock and key,” and, as provisions were difficult to procure, it was generally found more advantageous to leave those who had broken the laws to “fend” for themselves until such times as they were wanted. As might be expected in such circumstances, the accused person not unfrequently took “leg-bail,” and passed into another district, or, perhaps, crossed the Border, and sought refuge among the enemies of his country and his clan. This expedient, in those lawless and disordered times, was no doubt occasionally successful—for the nonce—but sooner or later the evil-doer was either betrayed by the enemy, or, resuming his old habits—which was almost a necessity—brought himself under the special notice of the warden of the district to which he had fled. He thus placed himself, as it were, between two fires, and made further immunity from prosecution practically impossible. When it came to the knowledge of the warden that an accused person had passed into another wardenry, he at once certified the warden opposite, requiring him to apprehend and deliver the prisoner with all possible speed; and he was bound, after receiving this notice, to make proclamation throughout his wardenry “by the space of six days after of the said fugitive,” and also to certify the other two wardens of the realm “to proclaim the fugitive throughout all the bounds of their wardenries, so that none could proclaim ignorance, or excuse themselves when charged with the wilful receipt of the aforesaid fugitive so proclaimed.”

The duty thus laid upon the wardens of searching for fugitives was one which was generally undertaken con amore, not merely on account of the fact that it was naturally agreeable to these officers to detect and punish crime, but also because in such circumstances it was greatly to their advantage to do so. A law was passed ordaining that when a fugitive entered with his goods into the opposite realm, the warden who captured him, and handed him over to be punished for his offence, was entitled to retain the goods for his labour. Should he not succeed in apprehending the fugitive, then the goods had to be returned to the warden of the realm from which they came. This was a wise arrangement, and on the whole proved fairly effective.

As offences against the law were numerous and frequent, it was statute and ordained that a “Day of Truce” should be held every month, or oftener, when the wardens of the Marches opposite each other should meet for the discussion and adjustment of their respective claims, and the punishment of evil-doers. The date and place of this meeting was made known to the inhabitants of the Marches by proclamation being made in all the market towns. Notice was also sent to the lords, knights, esquires, and gentlemen, commanding them, along with a sufficient number of their tenants and servants, well mounted and fully armed, to repair the night before and attend upon the warden at the day of truce.[38]

Early on the morning of the following day this imposing cavalcade might be seen wending its way towards the place of rendezvous. This was generally some convenient spot near the Border, most frequently on the Scottish side. When the wardens and their friends came within hailing distance of each other, a halt was called, and the English warden sent forward four or five gentlemen of good repute to demand from the Scottish warden “that assurance might be kept” until the sunrise of the following day. According to a statement made on the authority of Sir Robert Bowes, the reason of this particular form of procedure was “because the Scots did always send their ambassadors first into England to seek for peace after a war. Therefore both the particular days of truce are usually kept either at places even on the confines of the Marches, or else at places within the realm of Scotland, and also the English warden and other officers were always used to send first for the assurance as aforesaid.”

When assurance had been given by the Scottish warden, a number of Scottish gentlemen passed over to the other side to demand from the English warden assurance on his part. These preliminary precautions having been duly observed, the two parties met, and the business which had brought them together was at once entered upon. The wardens did not always attend these meetings in person, their duties occasionally necessitating their remaining at home, but when unable to be present themselves they were represented by deputies—men of influence and good social position—who were thoroughly qualified to deal with any important question that might arise.

The regulations for the conduct of business at these meetings were carefully drawn out, and, as a general rule, strictly observed. The English warden named six Scottish gentlemen to act on his side, and the Scottish warden the same number of Englishmen to act as the English assize. These men, who thus constituted the jury, were carefully chosen. No murderer, traitor, fugitive, infamous person, or betrayer of one party to another could bear office, or give evidence, but only good and lawful men deserving of credit and unsuspected.

Each warden, in the presence of the opposite warden and the inhabitants of both the Marches, “Swore by the High God that reigneth above all Kings and Realms, and to whom all Christians owe obedience, that he shall (in the name of God) do, exercise and use his office without respect of person, Malice, Favour, or Affection, diligently or undelayedly, according to his Vocation or Charge that he beareth under God and his Prince, and he shall do justice upon all Complaints presented unto him, upon every Person complained upon under this Rule. And that, when any complaint is referred unto him, to swear, fyle, and deliver upon his Honour, he shall search, enquire, and redress the same at his uttermost power: And that, if it shall happen in so doing to quit and absolve the persons complained upon as Clean and Innocent: Yet if he shall any ways get sure Knowledge of the very Offender, he shall declare him foul of the Offence, and make lawful Redress and Delivery thereof, albeit the very Offender be not named in the Complaint: And this Oath of the Wardens not only to be made at the first Meeting hereafter to ensue, but also to be made every Year once solemnly, as aforesaid, at the first Meeting after Mid-summer, to put them in the better Remembrance of their Duties, and to place the fear of God in their Hearts.”[39]

The following oath was also administered to the jury:—“Ye shall truly enquire, and true deliverance make between the Queen’s Majesty, and the prisoners at the Bar, according to the evidence that shall be given in this Court. As God keep you and Holydome.”[40]

These formalities having been duly observed, the trial of the prisoners was then proceeded with. Bills were presented on the one side, and on the other, setting forth with considerable fulness of detail the nature and extent of the damages that had been sustained. The prisoners against whom these indictments had been made were then called to answer the charges preferred against them.

There were at least three ways in which these cases could be tried. In the first place, the bill might be acquitted on the honour of the warden. But should it afterwards be found that the warden in acquitting the bill had proceeded on imperfect information, and had acquitted upon his honour a bill that was in reality “foul,” then the complainant was at liberty to prosecute a new bill, and demand that justice should be done. The case was then tried by a jury who “fyled” or “cleared” the bill at their discretion. When a bill was “fyled,” that is to say declared true, the word “foul” was written on the margin, and when it was “cleared,” the word “clear” was inserted.

But further, bills might be tried by inquest or assize, which was the method most frequently adopted, such cases being decided by the juries on their own knowledge, and on the evidence sworn to in open court.

The third way of dealing with bills was by a “Vower.” The significance of this method is fully explained by Sir Robert Bowes, who says:—“The inquest or assise of Scotlande, notwithstanding their othe, would in no wyse fynde a bill to be true, nor fyll any Scottis man upon an Englishman’s complaynte unles the Englishman could fynde an inhabitant of Scotlande, that would avow openly to the inquest, or secretlye to the warden, or some of the inquest, that the complaynte was treue, and the partie complayned upon culpable thereof, otherwise althoughe the matter was ever so notoryously knowne by the Englishman, their evydence would not serve to secure a conviction.”

It frequently happened, on the occasion of these meetings, that “bogus” bills were presented, a custom which gave the officials a great deal of unnecessary labour. The commissioners, in referring to this reprehensible practice, remark that “it hath been perceived of late that, since the order was begun by the Warden to speire, fyle, and deliver, upon their Honour, that some ungodly Persons have made complaint, and billed for Goods lost where none was taken from them, and so troubled the Wardens, causing them to speire and search for the Thing that was never done.”[41] It was therefore statute and ordained that all persons guilty of this offence should be delivered to the opposite warden to be punished, imprisoned, and fined at the discretion of the same warden whom he had troubled.

Another formidable difficulty with which the wardens had to contend on these occasions, was in estimating the value of the goods for which redress was claimed. In making up a bill the complainant was strongly tempted to put an absurd value on the gear, or cattle, which had been stolen from him. Had he always got as much as he claimed he would soon have been enormously enriched by the loss of his property! The commissioners were therefore under the necessity of drawing out a scale of charges for the guidance of the warden courts. The following are the prices fixed by this tribunal:—“Every Ox, above Four Year old, Fourty Shillings Sterling; every Cow, above Four Year old, Thirty Shillings Sterling; and every Young Cow, above Two Years old, Twenty Shillings Sterling; every other Beast, under Two Years old, Ten Shillings Sterling; every old Sheep, Six Shillings Sterling; and every Sheephogge, Three Shillings Sterling; every old Swine, above One Year old, Six Shillings Sterling; every young Swine, Two Shillings Sterling; every Goat, above One Year old, Five Shillings Sterling; every young Goat, Two Shillings Sterling; and every Double Toope to be valued after the rate of the Single.”[42]

These prices, judged by the standard of the present day, seem absurdly low, but they may be accepted as representing the average rate of prices obtainable, three hundred years ago, for the various classes of stock mentioned.

It was the duty of the wardens to have the offenders in custody, against whom bills had been presented, in readiness to answer, and in case the bills were “fouled” he was bound to deliver them up to the opposite warden, by whom they were imprisoned until they had paid a single and two doubles, that is to say, treble the value of the estimated goods in the bill. To produce these men was generally the most difficult part of the warden’s duty. He could not keep them in confinement until the day of truce, for, independently they were sometimes persons of power and rank, their numbers were too great to be retained in custody. The wardens, therefore, usually took bonds from the Chief, kinsmen, or allies of the accused party, binding him or them to enter him prisoner within the iron gate of the warden’s castle, or else to make him forthcoming when called for. He against whom a bill was twice fouled, was liable to the penalty of death. If the offender endeavoured to rescue himself after being lawfully delivered over to the opposite warden, he was liable to the punishment of death, or otherwise at the warden’s pleasure, as being guilty of a breach of the assurance.[43]

It would seem to have been customary on a day of truce to enumerate the various bills “fouled” on either side, and then to strike a balance, showing on which side most depredations had been committed. It occasionally happened that the claims of both parties were so numerous and complicated, the same person frequently appearing both as plaintiff and defendant, that it was deemed prudent to draw a veil over the whole proceedings, and give satisfaction to neither party, thus wiping out, as it were, with a stroke of the pen, and without further parleying, all the claims which had been lodged. This mode of procedure, arbitrary though it may appear, did not, as a rule, result in serious injustice being done to either party.

The offences dealt with were of a varied character. Reiving was only one of the many ways in which the Borderers sought to enrich themselves at the expense of their neighbours in the opposite March. They had an eye to the land as well as to the cattle. It was customary for them not only to pasture their stock on the enemy’s territory, but to sow corn, cut down wood, and go hunting and hawking for pleasure as well as profit. Sir Robert Cary, one of the most vigorous of the English wardens, was determined that hunting without leave should not be carried on in his wardenry. He wrote to the laird of Ferniherst, the warden opposite, explaining his views, but, “notwithstanding this letter,” he says, “within a month after they came and hunted as they used to do without leave, and cut down wood and carried it away. I wrote to the warden, and told him I would not suffer one other affront, but if they came again without leave they would dearly aby[44] it. For all this they would not be warned; but towards the end of the summer they came again to their wonted sports. I sent my two deputies with all speed they could make, and they took along with them such gentlemen as were in their way, with my forty horse, and about one of the clock they came to them, and set upon them; some hurt was done, but I gave special order they should do as little hurt, and shed as little blood, as they possibly could. They observed my command, only they broke all their carts, and took a dozen of the principal gentlemen that were there, and brought them to me to Witherington, where I lay. I made them welcome, and gave them the best entertainment I could. They lay in the castle two or three days, and so I sent them home—they assuring me that they would never again hunt without leave, which they did truly perform all the time.”[45]

This firm, but kindly method, was entirely satisfactory; and, had the Borders only been blessed with a succession of Carys in the various wardenries, the probability is that Border reiving would never have attained such portentous dimensions.

But despite the masterful management of men like Cary, such questions as those we have mentioned continued to occupy the time and attention of the warden courts. The freebooters on the Border never considered too closely the minute shades of difference between meum and tuum, and were difficult to persuade that depasturing, or cutting wood in a neighbour’s plantation, was a matter of any real importance. They were at all times disposed to put a liberal construction on the words—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” Their somewhat loose interpretation of this ancient Hebrew maxim occasioned them no end of vexation and trouble.

But the settlement of Border affairs on the day of truce did not interfere with the ancient custom which entitled the person who was robbed to follow his goods on what was called the hot-trod, and mete out summary punishment to the offender—provided he could overtake him. The warden also was enjoined, in the Act of 1563, to pursue and chase in hot-trod, unto such time or place as the fugitives or offender be apprehended, to bring him again within his own jurisdiction to be punished for the offence, “as appertaineth;” “and that without let, trouble, or impediment to be made or done to him by any of the inhabitants of that realm wherein he pursueth.” And if any person should make resistance to the said warden in the foresaid pursuit he was to be billed for, and delivered to the warden. In the following of the said chase, in the manner aforesaid, it was thought convenient, and ordained, that the pursuer shall, at the first town he cometh by of the opposite realm, or the first person he meeteth with, give knowledge of the occasion of his chase, and require him to go with him in the said pursuit. If the offender was caught red-handed he was executed; but if the desire for gain was stronger than the thirst for blood, then he was held at ransom. The prey was followed with hound and horn, hue and cry, the pursuers carrying on the point of their spears a lighted piece of turf.

The business of the warden courts was conducted with despatch. When all the bills had been either “fouled” or “cleared,” those who had been found guilty of “March Treason” were brought up for sentence. The lord warden called on him whose office it was to see the prisoners suffer, and thus addressed him:—“I command you in the Queen’s Majesty’s name that ye see execution done upon these prisoners, according to the Law of the Marches, at your peril.” Then addressing the prisoners he said:—“Ye that are adjudged by the Law of the Realm to die, remember that ye have but a short time to live in this world; therefore earnestly call to God, with penitent hearts, for mercy and forgiveness of your sinful lives; repent ye have broken God’s commandments, and be sorry therefor, and for that ye did not fear the breach and dangers of the Law, therefore your bodies must suffer the pain of death, provided to satisfy the reward of your Fact in this world; yet the salvation of your soul’s health for the world to come, stands in the great mercy of Almighty God: Wherefore do ye earnestly repent and ask mercy for your sins, now when ye are living, put your Trust to be saved by the merits of Christ’s passion; and think in your hearts if ye were able to recompence them ye have offended, ye would do it; and where you are not able, ask Forgiveness. Have such faith in God’s Mercy as Dismas the Thief and Man-Murderer had that hang at Christ’s Right hand, when he suffered his Passion for the Redemption of Mankind: Whose Faith was so great he should be saved, his Sins were remitted, tho’ he had but short time of Repentance, and he enjoyed Heaven. Therefore despair not in God’s Mercy, though your sins be great, for God’s Mercy exceedeth all his Works. Set apart all Vanities of this World, and comfort you in Heavenly things; and doubt not but, if ye so do, ye shall inherit Everlasting Joy in the Kingdom of Heaven. And thus I commit you to the Mercy of God, wishing your Deaths may be an Example to all Parents to bring up their Children in the Fear of God, and Obedience of the Laws of this Realm.”[46]

With these suitable admonitions ringing in their ears, the condemned prisoners were led forth to execution.

The business of the court having been finished, the wardens retired after taking a courteous leave of each other.

These meetings, attended as they were by a large number of people, who came either on business or pleasure, were frequently broken up by sudden outbursts of tumult and disorder. Baughling, or brawling, was a common occurrence, and loud words and angry looks naturally led to more serious encounters. We have already noticed the incident of the Reidswire, but this was by no means an isolated case. In the month of July, 1585, at a day of truce between Sir John Foster and Ker of Ferniherst, Lord Russell, a young man of great promise, and of the most amiable disposition, was suddenly shot dead by an unknown hand. This lamentable incident gave rise to much bitterness of feeling on both sides of the Border. Foster wrote to Walsingham, saying, that he and the opposite warden had met for the redress of attempts committed on both sides, Russell being present to attend to particular causes of his own, “where it chanced a sudden accident and tumult to arise among the rascals of Scotland and England about a little pyckery among themselves, and we meaning no harm did sit the most of the day calling bills, and my Lord Russell among us. The said Lord Russell rose and went aside from us, with his own men, and there being in talk with a gentleman, was suddenly shot with a gun and slain in the midst of his own men, to the great discomfort of me and his poor friends in this country, and never a man either of England or Scotland but he. Alas! that the mischievous chance should happen for him to be killed with a shot, and none but him, which is the greatest discomfort that ever came upon me.”[47]

No hint is here given of any suspicion that Ker of Ferniherst was implicated in the death of this young man. Hence we are surprised to find that, on the day after this letter was written, Sir John Foster drew up a statement in which he gives an entirely different complexion to the incident. He asserts that it was not an accident. “Had it been an accident,” he says, “or sudden breaking by rascals, as there was no such matter, the gentlemen of Scotland with their drums, fife, shot, and such as carried the ‘ensigne’ and ‘penseller,’ would have tarried with the warden; so that it appeareth plainly it was a ‘pretended matter’ beforehand, for the wardens sitting quietly calling their bills, the warden of England thinking no harm, the party of Scotland seeing the time serve for their ‘former desire,’ suddenly broke, striking up an alarm with sound of drum and fife, and gave the charge upon us—in which charge the Lord Russell was cruelly slain with shot, and so divers gentlemen of Scotland with their footmen and horsemen and whole force, followed and maintained their chase four miles within the Realm of England, and took sundry prisoners and horses, and carried them into Scotland, which they deny to deliver again.”[48]

This statement contradicts, in almost every particular, the asseverations deliberately made in the letter written the day before, and shows that even a gentleman in Sir John Foster’s high position, with a deservedly great reputation for fair dealing, was capable, when occasion demanded, of twisting facts, or even inventing them, to suit his own ends, or the interest of the government he represented. It has been suggested that the English secretary, knowing that Ferniherst was an intimate friend of Arran, saw that by laying the blame of Lord Russell’s death on the shoulders of the former, he might thereby procure the disgrace of this hated minister. Be this as it may, such conflicting assertions, made by the same person almost at the same time, should lead us to accept with a modified confidence other statements of a similar kind, as the spirit of party is no friend to the love of truth.

But despite the drawbacks and dangers attaching to such gatherings for the settlement of Border affairs, the day of truce was an institution of great public utility. It is difficult to see how, apart from such an arrangement, even the semblance of civilized life could have been maintained. The Borders really constituted an imperium in imperio, and the wardens, when presiding over their monthly convention, were to all intents and purposes absolute rulers within their own prescribed domain. It was generally found that when warden courts, or days of truce, were regularly held, good rule and order, at least judged by the ordinary Border standard, were well maintained throughout the entire district.

VII.

THE DEADLY FEUD.

he difficulties with which the Borderers had to contend were of a varied character. They had to be constantly on the watch against the aggressions and incursions of their enemies on the opposite Marches. But it frequently happened that their most dangerous and inveterate foes were to be found amongst their own countrymen. This was the case more especially when blood-feuds arose, setting family against family, and clan against clan. An interesting, if not very luminous, account of the origin of the “Feud” is given by Burghley in a report submitted by him to the English government, in which he deals with what he calls the “Decays of the Borders.” He says:—“Deadly Foed, the word of enmytie on the Borders, implacable without the blood and whole family destroyed, whose etymologie I know not where better to fetch than from Spiegelius in his Lexicon Juris, in Verbo ‘feydum:’ he saith it is an old Teutch word whereof is derived by Hermanus Nivoranus (?) faydosum Hostis publicus; ‘foed’ enim, Bellum significat.” He further points out that the Scottish wardens, being native Borderers, are “extraordinarilye adicted to parcialities, favour of their blood, tenantes and followers,” and consequently he holds they should be disqualified for office.[49]

The evils resulting from these deadly-feuds would have been comparatively trifling had it been possible to limit the consequences to the persons more immediately concerned. Owing, however, to the system of clanship which prevailed on the Borders, the whole sept became involved in the feud. “If one of the clan,” says Sir Walter Scott, “chanced either to slay a man, or commit any similar aggression, the chief was expected to defend him by all means, legal or illegal. The most obvious and pacific was to pay such fine or amende, or assythement, as it was called, as might pacify the surviving relations, or make up the feud. This practice of receiving an atonement for slaughter seems also to have been part of the ancient Celtic usages; for it occurs in the Welch laws of Howell Dha, and was the very foundation of the Irish Brehon customs. The vestiges of it may be found in the common law of Scotland to this day. But poor as we have described the Border chief, and fierce as he certainly was by education and office, it was not often that he was either able or disposed to settle the quarrels of his clansmen in a manner so amicable and expensive. War was then resorted to; and it was the duty of the chief and clan who had sustained the injury to seek revenge by every means in their power, not only against the party who had given the offence, but, in the phrase of the time and country, against all his name, kindred, maintainers, and upholders. On the other hand, the chief and clan to whom the individual belonged who had done the offence, were equally bound in honour, by every means in their power, to protect their clansman, and to retaliate whatever injury the opposite party might inflict in their thirst of vengeance. When two clans were involved in this species of private warfare, which was usually carried on with the most ferocious animosity on both sides, they were said to be at deadly feud, and the custom is justly termed by the Scottish parliament most heathenish and barbarous.... In these deadly feuds, the chiefs of clans made war, or truce, or final peace with each other, with as much formality, and as little sincerity, as actual monarchs.”[50]

Feuds of the most bitter and hostile character were an every-day occurrence. The Herons, Fenwicks, Shafftownes, Charletons, and Milbornes, on the English side of the Border, were all at feud at the same time. And on the Scottish side the Elwoods (Elliots), Armstrongs, Nixons, Crosiers, Trumbles, and Olivers were, during the same period, at “daggers drawn,” and thirsting for each other’s blood. The misery which such feuds created can hardly be over-estimated. The sense of personal security was completely destroyed. Mutual trust, the primary condition of social life, was rendered practically impossible. And, as might be expected, the most trivial circumstances often gave rise to the most implacable hostility. A singular instance of this is referred to by John Cary in one of his communications to Burghley. He says:—“Your honour remembers hearing long since of the great road by the Scotts ‘as Will Haskottes and his fellowes’ made in Tynedale and Redesdale, taking up the whole country and nearly beggaring them for ever. On complaint to the Queen and Council, there was some redress made with much ado and many meetings. Buccleuch and the Scotts made some ‘bragges and crackes’ as that the country durst not take its own; but the Charletons being the ‘sufficientest and ablest’ men on the borders, not only took their own goods again, but encouraged their neighbours to do the like and not be afraid—‘which hath ever since stuck in Buccleuch’s stomack.’... Mary! he makes another quarrell, that long since in a war tyme, the Tynedale men should goe into his countrey, and there they took his grandfather and killed divers of his countrye, and that they took away his grandfather’s shworde, and never let him have it yet synce. This sayeth he is the quarrell.”[51]

Nor did lapse of time tend to soften the animosities. The feud was inherited along with the rest of the family property. It was handed down from generation to generation. The son and grandson maintained it with a bitterness which, in some cases, seemed year by year to grow more intense. It affected more or less a man’s whole social relationships, and gave rise to endless animosities and heart-burnings. Feuds were not unknown in other districts of the country, but owing to the feeble and ineffective manner in which the law was generally administered, they prevailed to a greater extent on the Borders,—and were characterised by a more vengeful spirit,—than in any other part of the kingdom.

Hence it was found that the existence of such feuds made the administration of the law, such as it was, a matter of supreme difficulty. It is said that it was hardly possible for any gentleman of the country to be of a jury of life and death if any of those at feud were indicted, “as they were grown so to seek blood that they would make a quarrel about the death of their grandfather, and kill any of the name.” It was, therefore, found necessary to appoint special nobles and barons belonging to some distant part of the country, to sit in judgment in those cases in which the accused was at feud with the warden. On two occasions when courts were being held at Jedburgh, it was found expedient to issue proclamations in the King’s name,—“That na maner of persons tak upon hand to invaid ane an uther for ald feid or new, now cumand to this present air or passand tharfra, and induring the tyme thairof under the pane of dede; and that na maner of persone or persons beir wapins except kniffis at their beltis, bot alanerlie our soverane lordis household, the justice, constable, merschell, compositouris, thair men and houshald, schireff, crounaris and thair deputis, under the pane of escheting of the wapins and punishing of the persons beraris therof.”[52] Owing to the disturbed condition of the country, such precautions were much needed, although it must be admitted that they did not always secure the end desired.

Many of the Border feuds present features of great interest alike to the sociologist and the historian. They afford interesting glimpses of the condition of society in this part of the realm, and disclose the dominant passions by which the lives and characters of those more immediately concerned were shaped and determined. Throughout the greater part of the 16th century a fierce feud raged between two of the most noted and powerful Border families—the Scotts and the Kers. The circumstances which gave rise to this deadly feud form an interesting chapter in the history of the Borders.

During the minority of James V. the Earl of Angus controlled the government of the country, and in his own interests, and for the furtherance of his own ends, kept a watchful eye on the movements of the young King. In the year 1525, James, accompanied by Angus, and other members of the court, came south to Jedburgh, “and held justice aires quhair manie plaintes cam to him of reiff, slauchter and oppression, bot little justice was used bot the purse, for thir was manie in that countrie war the Earl of Angus’ kin and friendis, that got favourable justice, quhairof the king was not content, nor non of the rest of the lordis that war about him, for they wold have justice equally used to all men; bot the Earl of Angus and the rest of the Douglass’ rulled yitt still as they pleased, and no man durst find fault with their proceidingis; quhairat the king was heartilie displeased, and would fain have been out of their handis, and for that effect he writt are secreitt letter to the laird of Buccleugh, desiring him effectuouslie that he wold come with all his forces, kin and freindis, and all that he might ax, and meit him at Melrose, at his home coming, and thair to tak him out of the Douglas’ handis, and put him at libertie, to use himself among the rest of the lordis as he thought expedient.”[53] Buccleuch at once convened his “kin and freindis,” and all who were prepared to take part with him, to the number of six hundred spears, and set out for Melrose to await the coming of the King. Home, Cessford, and Fernieherst, who were of the King’s company, had returned home. Buccleuch and his followers made their appearance, arranged in order of battle, on Halidon Hill, overlooking the Tweed, near Melrose bridge. When Angus saw them he wondered what the hostile array portended. But when he discovered that Buccleuch was supported only by numbers of Annandale thieves, he took heart of grace, and said to the King—“Sir, yonder is the laird of Buccleuch, and the thieves of Annerdaill with him, to unbesett your grace in the way, bot I avow to God, Sir, they sall aither fight or flie. Thairfor, Sir, ye sall tarrie here, and my brither George with yow, and any other quhom yeu pleas, and I sall pas and put yon thieves aff the ground, and red the gaitt to your grace, or else die thairfor.”[54]

The conflict now began in earnest. Buccleuch and his men stoutly resisted the onslaught of Angus, and for a time the issue seemed uncertain. But Home, Cessford, and Fernieherst, having got wind of the affair, returned, supported by four score spears, “and sett on freschlie on the utmost wing, on the laird of Buccleughis field, and shortly bare them to the ground, quhilk caused the laird of Buccleugh to flie; on whom thair followed ane chaise be the lairdis of Sesfoord and Pherniherst, in the quhilk chaise the laird of Sesfoord was slain with ane cassin spear, be ane called Evan, servand of the laird of Buccleughis.”[55]

There seems nothing remarkable about such an incident as this. That Cessford should have been accidentally slain by one of Buccleuch’s servants was no doubt a regrettable incident, but those who play bowls must be prepared for rubbers. This, unfortunately, was not the view entertained by the Kers, who henceforth were at deadly feud with Buccleuch. All efforts to bring about a reconciliation were in vain. The Kers thirsted for vengeance, and were determined to “bide their time.” Twenty-six long years had come and gone, and one day as the laird of Buccleuch was passing along one of the streets of Edinburgh, little suspecting the fate which awaited him, he was fatally stabbed by the descendant of Cessford. The Borderers had many faults, but certainly they cannot be charged with having had short memories!

But a still more striking illustration of the disastrous consequences of the deadly feud is to be found in the case of the Johnstones and Maxwells, two of the most prominent and powerful families in Dumfriesshire. These two families were strong enough, had they been united, to have kept the whole district in good order; but unfortunately they were often at feud, with the result that not only their own interests, but the interests of the community as a whole, were ruthlessly sacrificed. It is worthy of note that one of the principal causes of the frequent and disastrous feuds between the representatives of the two families, was the frequency with which the office of warden was conferred, first on the one, and then on the other, without any good reason being assigned by the King for the adoption of this shuttle-cock policy. This office was naturally much coveted, as it was not only a source of revenue, which in those days was a most important consideration, but a condition of influence and power. It must, therefore, have been peculiarly irritating for the warden to be summarily called upon to resign his office almost before he had begun to reap the rewards pertaining to it. And when he saw his rival basking in the sunshine of the royal favour, from which he had been suddenly and capriciously excluded, his feelings may be more easily imagined than described. Nor did it greatly tend to soothe his wounded feelings to reflect that the person by whom he had been superseded would be certain before long to be hurled from his proud eminence and another put in his place. The whole system was pernicious, and was the source of no end of mischief and bad blood.

The origin of this famous feud may be briefly related. John, seventh Lord Maxwell, has been well described as one of those men whom a daring and restless temperament and their crimes “have damned to eternal fame.” After the death of the Regent Morton, he succeeded in securing a charter to the Earldom of Morton—his mother, Lady Beatrix Douglas, being the Regent’s second daughter. It was not his good fortune, however, to enjoy for a lengthened period either the title, or the domains attached to it. In January, 1585, four years after he had come into possession, Parliament rescinded the Attainder, and declared that the title and the estates were to be conferred on the Regent Morton’s lawful heir. Maxwell was declared a rebel, mainly owing to his religious views—he being a warm adherent of the Romish Church—and Johnstone was commissioned to apprehend him. Though he had the assistance of two bands of hired soldiers, Maxwell proved more than a match for him, took him prisoner, and set fire to Lochwood Castle, as it was savagely remarked, “that Lady Johnstone might have light to put on her hood.” This unexpected blow fell on the laird of Johnstone with crushing effect. In the following year he died of a broken heart. It is to these circumstances that we must attribute the origin of the deadly feud between the two clans, and especially between their chiefs.

But Maxwell, though gaining this important victory, was not allowed to escape. He was ultimately taken prisoner, but afterwards regained his liberty, on condition that he left the country. He went to Spain, and offered his services to “His Catholic Majesty,” who was then busily engaged in fitting out the Invincible Armada, by which he hoped to overwhelm both England and Scotland. Lord Maxwell—so little was he animated by the spirit of patriotism—entered into the scheme con amore. Being furnished with ample means, he returned to Scotland in 1588 to levy men on the Borders to assist his new sovereign. His prefidious designs were fortunately discovered, and ere he could make good his escape, he was surprised by the King in Dumfries, taken prisoner, and his wardenship of the West Marches bestowed on his powerful rival, the laird of Johnstone. Everything might have gone on smoothly at this juncture had the King only been gifted with a little firmness and foresight. He was anxious, however, to conciliate his Roman Catholic subjects, and he seems to have come to the conclusion that, reasonable conditions being imposed, he might accomplish this end by restoring Maxwell to favour and office. This was a fatal blunder, and produced disastrous results. Though the two rival chiefs were induced to enter into a bond of alliance to support each other in their lawful quarrels, as might have been expected, it was not long before circumstances arose which brought them again into deadly conflict. The Johnstones seemed to have concluded that they were at liberty to harry and despoil at their pleasure, so long as they left unmolested any of the name of Maxwell. Acting upon this principle, they made a raid upon Nithsdale, and committed sundry depredations on Lord Sanquhar, the lairds of Drumlanrig, Closeburn, and Lagg, and killed eighteen persons who had “followed their own goods.” Such a fierce and unprovoked assault could not well be allowed to go unpunished, and so a commission was given to Lord Maxwell to pursue the Johnstones with all hostilities. Johnstone hearing of this, at once adopted measures for his protection. He summoned to his aid the Scotts of Teviotdale, and the Grahams and Elliots of Eskdale, as well as “divers Englishmen, treasonably brought within the realm, armed in plain hostility.” Maxwell, however, determined not to be beat, entered into “Bonds of Manrent” with Sanquhar, Drumlanrig, and several others, who had suffered at the hands of Johnstone, to maintain each other’s quarrels.

Acting upon his commission, Maxwell summoned Johnstone to surrender, but this he refused to do, on the ground that the warden had acted illegally in entering into “Bonds” with the persons above-mentioned. As it was clearly impossible to settle the question by diplomatic means, the warden despatched Captain Oliphant with some troops to Lochmaben, to await his arrival in Annandale. The Johnstones, who were on the alert, coming suddenly upon them, killed the captain, and a number of his soldiers, and burned the Kirk of Lochmaben, where some of Oliphant’s men had fled for refuge. Lord Maxwell now entered the field in person. He expected to raise the different towns in his aid; but Johnstone, acting on the principle that “a ‘steek’ in time saves nine,” attacked him at once, scattered his forces, and slew Lord Maxwell, “and sundry gentlemen of his name.” This affair took place December, 1593, and is well known as the Battle of Dryfe Sands. “Lord Maxwell,” it is said, “a tall man, and heavy in armour, was in the chase overtaken and stricken from his horse. The report went that he called to Johnstone, and desired to be taken (prisoner), as he had formerly taken his (Johnstone’s) father: but was unmercifully used; and the hand that reached forth cut off; but of this I can affirm nothing. There, at all events, the Lord Maxwell fell, having received many wounds. He was a nobleman of great spirit, humane, courteous, and more learned than noblemen commonly are; but aspiring and ambitious of rule.”

In this contest the Maxwells suffered severely. They were cut down in scores in the streets of Lockerbie. It is said that those who escaped bore on them to their dying hour marks of the fatal day, which occasioned the proverbial phrase of “a Lockerby lick,” to denote a frightful gash over the face or skull. So dreadful was the carnage in this disastrous “bout of arms” that it is alleged by numerous historians that at least 700 of the Maxwells and their adherents were slain. Two aged thorns long marked the spot where Maxwell met his fate, known in the district as “Maxwell’s Thorns.” They were carried away by a flood some fifty years ago, but have been replaced by two others, now enclosed in a railing.

“It is evident, then,” remarks Pitcairn, “according to the sentiments of those times, inherited from their earliest years, which ‘grew with their growth and strengthened with their strength,’ that natural duty and filial piety required such a feud should become hereditary, and behoved should be handed down from one generation to another. The attempts by the King and his Council to procure an effectual reconciliation, although strenuously made and often repeated, at length proved abortive. The re-appointment of the Laird of Johnstone to be warden of the West Marches, in 1596, appears to have served as a signal for the resumption of mutual aggressions.”[56] It would seem that Johnstone held the office at this time for a period of three years, but as his wardenry had got into a most unsatisfactory condition, he was superseded by Sir John Carmichael, his appointment being notified to Lord Scrope, by James VI., on the 26th December, 1599. Carmichael was murdered by Thomas Armstrong, “son of Sandies Ringan,” in the following year, and Johnstone was again appointed to this ill-fated office. All this time the feud raged as fiercely as ever. Various attempts were made to bring about an agreement, but nothing came of them. At length through the influence of mutual friends, a private meeting was arranged. Solemn pledges were given and exchanged, and Lord Maxwell and Sir James Johnstone met on the 6th of April, 1608, each accompanied only by a single attendant. The principals having removed some distance to discuss their affairs, a quarrel arose between the two attendants, and when Sir James Johnstone turned round to admonish them to keep the peace, Lord Maxwell suddenly drew his pistol, and fired at him, and shot him through the back with two bullets.

This cold-blooded murder, made all the more heinous by the circumstances in which it was perpetrated, was amply revenged. Lord Maxwell was apprehended, and put in ward in the Castle of Edinburgh. He contrived, however, to escape, and went abroad, where he remained for four years. He returned to the Borders, but finding that his crime was remembered against him, had instantly to prepare for embarkation to Sweden. Unfortunately for himself, he was persuaded by his kinsman, the Earl of Caithness, to abandon this project. He was lured to Castle Sinclair, where he was promised shelter and secrecy. He was not long there before he was betrayed by his friend, taken prisoner, and brought to Edinburgh and beheaded. “It may be gratifying to know that the Earl of Caithness obtained no reward for his traitorous conduct; but, on the contrary, his treachery served as a source of constant reproach to him and his family.”[57]

“Thus was finally ended, by a salutary example of severity, ‘the foul debate’ betwixt the Maxwells and the Johnstones, in course of which each family lost two chieftains; one by dying of a broken heart, one in the field of battle, one by assassination, and one by the sword of the executioner.”[58]

The history of the Borders unfortunately affords too many examples of the deplorable consequences arising from the prevalency and frequency of such feuds. Many were compelled to live in constant terror of the dagger of the assassin, never knowing the moment when they might be stricken down by an unseen hand. At the same time it may be remarked that those who were guilty of the crime of murder found it a matter of extreme difficulty to escape punishment. The “avenger of blood” was ever on the track, and though for a time, by means of various disguises, the culprit might elude pursuit, he had sooner or later to pay the penalty of his misdeeds.

In the year 1511 Sir Robert Ker of Cessford was slain at a Border meeting by three Englishmen—Heron, Starhead, and Lillburn. The English monarch delivered up Lillburn to justice, but the other two made good their escape. Starhead fled for refuge to the very centre of England, and there lived in secrecy and upon his guard. Two dependants of the murdered warden were deputed by Andrew Ker of Cessford to revenge his father’s death. They travelled through England in various disguises till they discovered the place of Starhead’s retreat, murdered him in his bed, and brought his head to their master, by whom, in memorial of their vengeance, it was exposed on the cross of Edinburgh. Heron would have shared the same fate had he not spread abroad a report of his having died of the plague, and caused his funeral obsequies to be performed.

Various expedients were resorted to in order to terminate the feuds which prevailed. A common method was to get the Chiefs and Chieftains of the opposing clans to subscribe what were called “bonds of assurance.” There can be no doubt that this might often have proved a most effective measure, had the parties concerned only been willing to let bygones be bygones. But it was found that the old sores were not easily healed. Despite the utmost precautions, animosities which had been suppressed for a time—kept as it were in abeyance—would assert themselves in a most unexpected manner, and with redoubled force, and create a still more distracting condition of affairs.

Prior to the Reformation, feuds were sometimes terminated by an appeal to the religious sensibilities of the persons more immediately concerned. They were induced to make pilgrimages to noted shrines—the shrine of St. Ninian being a favourite resort—where, under the influence of religious thoughts and feelings, they might be induced to take a more kindly view of those with whom they were at feud, and make some reparation for the injury they had inflicted. How far this method succeeded it is difficult to determine, but the likelihood is that it was quite as effective as any other.

Among the Chiefs, or clans, feuds were sometimes brought to an end by a contract of marriage between a leading gentleman of one clan and a daughter of the principal house of the other. This was the plan adopted by the Scotts and Kers, and which, after some vexatious delays, proved entirely successful.

But if it was found that none of the above methods of terminating the feud could be conveniently applied, then resort was had, as has already been hinted, to still simpler means. An atonement was made by the payment of a sum of money called “assythment,” which was sometimes found sufficient to restore good feeling, and bring together in a spirit of amity families that had been at feud with each other.

But these and other means of putting an end to the feud proved, perhaps, in the majority of cases, of little or no avail. The parties concerned preferred, generally, to fight it out to the bitter end, utterly indifferent to consequences.

VIII.

THE THIEVES DAUNTONED.

he intermittent and ineffective manner in which the law was generally administered on the Borders was the occasion, if not the cause, of much of the turbulence and lawlessness which prevailed. The Border thieves were now and then placed under the most rigid surveillance, and their misdeeds visited with condign punishment; but for the most part they were left to work out their own sweet will, none daring to make them afraid.

This method of treatment could not be expected to produce beneficial results. It had exactly the opposite effect. Respect for the law was completely destroyed. Those who were called upon, as the phrase goes, “to underlie the law,” had no sense of shame when their wrongdoing was brought home to them. They no doubt felt the inconvenience of being punished, by fine or imprisonment, for their misdeeds; but there was no moral stigma attaching to imprisonment, or to almost any other form of punishment. That a man’s father had been hanged for cattle-stealing, or for the slaughter of those who had dared to resist him when he went on a foraging expedition, might engender a feeling of resentment, but it was not in the least likely to create a feeling of shame. Such incidents as these were regarded with philosophical indifference. We remember once hearing a distinguished Borderer remark that the ancient history of nearly all the great Border families had been faithfully chronicled in “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials!” A careful study of that interesting and valuable compilation will go far to corroborate the remark. The “Family Tree” is a phrase which has an altogether peculiar significance on the Borders. It suggests ideas and reflections which are not usually associated with genealogy.

But when all has been said on this phase of the question which either envy or malice can suggest, every sympathetic and well-informed student of Border history will readily admit that the Borderers, bad as they were, were really more sinned against than sinning. Carlyle has somewhere remarked that a man’s first right is to be well governed. It is, perhaps, unusual to regard our rights from this point of view, yet there can be no doubt that good government is an essential requisite of society, and one of the greatest blessings of the individual life. This boon was one which, for many generations, the Borderers did not enjoy. They were encouraged to commit crime one day, and punished for it the next. This is doubtless a strong assertion, but we think it is one that can be amply proved. It was the policy of James VI., for example, to keep on the best possible terms with Queen Elizabeth, in order not to endanger his chance of succession, and consequently he was naturally anxious to keep his turbulent subjects on the Borders as well in hand as possible. But that he secretly sympathised with them, and encouraged them in their predatory incursions on the English Border, hardly admits of serious doubt. Sir John Foster, writing in 1586, says: “The King doth write to the Laird of Cessford to do justice, and yet in the meantime he appointeth others to ride and break the Border, and doth wink thereat.”[59] We find Hunsdon writing in the same strain. “I am at this present credibly advertised,” he says, “from one of good intelligence that what fair weather soever the King makes, he means no good towards her Majesty, nor her subjects, and that at this present, there is some practice in hand, whatsoever it is—and he doth assure me that those of Liddesdale, Ewesdale, Eskdale, and Annandale, being 400 horse that came to Hawden brigges where they took away the goods and burnt 4 houses, was not without the King’s knowledge, but not meant to be done in that place.”[60] In another communication, in which he alludes to the coming of the King to the Borders with a large army, ostensibly to punish the thieves, he remarks, that he thought it very strange that the King should come with so great a company for the suppressing of a few thieves, when there was not one of them, either in Liddesdale or Teviotdale, that he might not have had brought to him, had he so wished it. He hints that these great outrages would never have been attempted without the King’s “privitie”—“for it was given forth,” he says, “that the Earl Bothwell’s riding to Branksome and Hawick, where he holds as many of Liddesdale before him as it pleased him to send for, that it was to cause them of Liddesdale to be answerable to justice to England for such outrages as they had sundry times committed; but the sequel did manifest the cause of his going thither. For presently after, his said son-in-law, the Laird of Buccleuch, made a ‘roade’ with 300 horse into the West March at two of the clock in the after-noon, with a trumpet and gydon, and spoiled the country about Bewcastle in warlike manner till sun-set. The trumpet was my Lord Bothwell’s, and the goods was carried to Armitage at my Lord Bothwell’s officers’ commandment. So as I have just cause to think that this ‘roade’ was done by my Lord Bothwell’s appointment, and I am sure he durst not have done it without the King’s privity, I will not say commandment.”[61]

These are only a few of many illustrations of a similar kind which may be found scattered through the pages of the “State Papers,” and while we must be careful not to accept such statements as in every instance worthy of absolute credence, yet the circumstances would seem to warrant our regarding them, in many cases at least, as well founded. When the King and his lieutenants thus secretly connived at, and encouraged, the depredations of the reivers, we need hardly wonder that they engaged in the work of plundering with an almost total absence of compunction.

Had the sphere of their operations been always strictly confined to the English Border, the likelihood is that neither King, nor Regent, would have sought to “daunton” them. But there were times when it was difficult for the Scottish reivers to earn a decent livelihood by harassing and spoiling “the auld enemy,” owing to the watchfulness and strength of those dwelling within the opposite Marches; and as there was a danger of their talents becoming feeble through disuse, they naturally turned their attention to their own more wealthy neighbours and friends. That there is “honour among thieves” is a proposition that is sometimes called in question; but we find that the spirit of a really helpful friendship occasionally manifested itself in curious ways. When a family, or clan, contemplated a raid upon a neighbour’s property, it was customary to secure the assistance of the thieves on the opposite Border. In “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials” there are numerous allusions to the prosecutions of famous Scottish reivers for the inbringing of Englishmen to assist them in the work of plunder. This was one of the offences charged against Cockburn of Henderland, and which, no doubt, weighed heavily with his judges in consigning him to the gallows.

When the reivers thus turned their attention to their own countrymen, and with the assistance of English allies began to despoil them, it was felt that strong measures must be adopted for their suppression and punishment. The Border reivers regarded the law with a feeling akin to contempt. They were disposed to look upon the statutes of the realm as so many old wives’ fables; and, truth to speak, they were often of not much more account. The policy of the wardens was too frequently one of mere self-aggrandizement, and so long as their individual interests were not imperilled they looked on with a kind of placid indifference at the misdoings of those whom it was their duty, if not their interest, to control. When James VI. came to Dumfries, to “daunton the thieves” in that district of the country, his time was mainly occupied in meting out summary punishment to men of high social position, whose “thefts, herschips, and slaughters” had become notorious, and cried aloud for vengeance. There were, no doubt, many of the commonality as well, who at this time were made to suffer for their crimes, but as these cases were generally dealt with by subordinate officials, they do not come so prominently before us. “Nothing is more remarkable,” says Sir Herbert Maxwell, “than the light thrown on the social state of Scotland at this time by the justiciary records. By far the larger part of the criminals dealt with at the King’s ‘justice aires’ were men of good position, barons and landowners, burgesses or provosts of burghs. The humbler offenders were dealt with by the sheriff or at the baron’s courts, and do not appear; but the following extracts from the records of the short reign of James IV., in which the culprits are all landowners, or members of their families, in Dumfriesshire or Galloway, illustrate the difficulty of maintaining order when the upper classes were so unruly.” Here a list of names is appended, in which such well-known personages as Murray, Jardine, Herries, Bell, Dinwoodie, Lindsay, Douglas, &c., appear. These men stand charged with high treason, forethought—felony, slaughter, horse-stealing, and other heinous offences. Some were pardoned, others respited, the horse-stealer was called upon to make restitution,—a severe sentence,—and Lindsay of Wauchope, who had slain a messenger-at-arms, was condemned to death, and his estates forfeited. In the accounts of expenditure incurred by the King during this visit to Dumfries some curious items appear. Here are a few samples. Item, to the man that hangit the thieves at the Hallirlaws,—xiiijs. Item, for ane raip to hang them in ...—viijd. Item, to the man that hangit the thieves in Canonby, be the King’s command ...—xiiijs. But all the details are not of this gruesome character. The work of hanging, needful as it was, could give but “sma’ pleasure” even to a King, and so we find that entertainment of another kind was plentifully provided for the youthful monarch. “He was attended in his progress,” says Tytler, “by his huntsmen, falconers, morris dancers, and all the motley and various minions of his pleasure, as well as by his judges and ministers of the law; and whilst troops of the unfortunate marauders were seized and brought in irons to the encampment, executions and entertainments appear to have succeeded each other with extraordinary rapidity.”[62]

Not long after the King made another visit to the Borders, coming on this occasion also with a considerable following, to the Water of Rule, to “daunton” the Turnbulls, whose excesses had filled the minds of the more peaceful inhabitants with a feeling of terror. Leslie, in his own quaint and picturesque style, thus describes the incident:—“The King raid furth of Edinburgh, the viij. of November one the nycht, weill accumpaneit to the watter of Roulle, quhair he tuik divers brokin men and brocht thame to Jeduart; of quhom sum was justifyeit, and the principallis of the trubillis [Turnbulls] come in lyning claythis, with nakitt sordis in thair handis and wyddyis [ropes] about thair neckis, and pat thame in the Kingis will; quha wes send to divers castells in ward, with sindrie utheris of that cuntrey men also, quhair throchout the bordouris wes in greiter quietnes thairefter.”[63]

We find that the Regents, when occasion demanded, were no less severe in their treatment of the unfortunate marauders. It would seem that about the middle of the sixteenth century the Borders had attained to an almost unexampled degree of lawlessness. Murder, robbery, and offences of all kinds prevailed to an intolerable extent. It is said that men who had been publicly outlawed walked abroad, deriding the terrors of justice. Hawick, a burgh of ancient renown, was the centre of these crimes. The Earl of Mar made a sudden and rapid march upon the town, encompassed it with his soldiers, and made a proclamation in the market place forbidding any one, on pain of death, to receive or shelter a thief. He apprehended fifty-three of the most noted outlaws, eighteen of whom, strange to state, he was under the necessity of drowning for “lack of trees and halters.” Six were hanged in Edinburgh, and the rest either acquitted or put in prison. This sharp and salutary lesson was evidently laid to heart, as we learn that, for some time after, extraordinary quietness prevailed.

In a few years, however, the state of matters on the Borders seems to have gone from bad to worse. The Scotts and the Ellwoods (Elliots) were at deadly feud, and as the result of their frequent and violent quarrels the whole district was thrown into confusion and disorder. Queen Mary had recently returned from France; and, hearing how things were going in this distracted part of her realm, came to Jedburgh to hold court in person. For more than a week she was busily engaged in hearing a great variety of cases that were brought before her, and imposing various modes and degrees of punishment on the offenders. It was on this occasion she made her famous visit to Hermitage Castle, in Liddesdale. The Earl of Bothwell had been stationed there for some time, in order if possible to “daunton” the “wicked limmers” by whom the district had long been infested. One day when in pursuit of a party of Elliots, having got considerably ahead of his company, he encountered a famous mosstrooper, John Elliot of Park, the “little Jock Elliot” of Border song (?), and drawing a “dag” or pistol fired at him, wounding him severely in the thigh. The gallant marauder turned upon his assailant, and, with a two-handed sword, which he wielded with amazing dexterity, bore him to the ground, leaving him to all appearance dead. Some have been wicked enough to wish that this coup d’epée had been more effective, as both Queen and country would have been spared much trouble and many heart burnings had Elliot’s well-aimed blow fallen with more deadly effect. Mary, hearing that her favourite courtier lay ill at Hermitage, resolved to pay him a friendly visit. Leaving Jedburgh early in the morning, in the company of her brother Murray, and other officers, she rode by way of Hawick over the hills to Liddesdale—a distance of twenty miles. The road was rough, and not without its hazards, especially to one unacquainted with the district—the ground near the watershed being full of quaking bogs and treacherous morasses. There is a place still known as the “Queen’s Mire,” near the head of the Braidlie burn, where the palfrey on which her Majesty was riding came to grief. Not long ago a bit of a silver spur was found at this spot, which is not unreasonably regarded as a relic of the Queen’s disaster.

After watching by the bed of the sufferer for the space of two hours, the Queen resumed her journey, reaching Jedburgh the same night. This long and exciting ride, which has exposed the memory of the fair Queen to many severe animadversions, was followed by a violent fever, which brought her to the gates of death. She herself did not expect to recover. Calling her nobles around her couch she enjoined them to live in unity and peace with each other, and to employ their utmost diligence in the government of the country, and the education of her son. But the end was not yet. Fotheringay, with its tragic memories, and not the quiet Border town where she then lay, was to witness the close of her sublimely pathetic career.

The unsettled condition of the country after the battle of Langside, and the Queen’s flight into England, made the Border reivers more than ever bold and lawless. They seemed to think that their opportunity had come, and that they might shake themselves free from the embarrassing restraints of constituted authority. But they were speedily made to feel that the hand of the Regent was even heavier than that of the King. The Earl of Murray, realizing that repressive measures were urgently needed, mustered a force of 4000 horse and foot and marched into Teviotdale, where he was speedily joined by Scott of Buccleuch, Home, Ker of Cessford, Ker of Ferniherst, and other gentlemen. After consulting together it was resolved to burn and destroy Liddesdale; and Buccleuch and Ferniherst were deputed to undertake the work. This resolution, as might have been expected, created consternation and dismay amongst the leaders of the clans, who came to the Regent entreating him to stay his hand, and graciously pardon their offences. Murray was not unwilling to do so, provided they would give assurances and pledges of their future conduct.

It was found impossible, however, to come to terms. The sureties offered did not satisfy the Regent, and he at once set about the wholesale work of destruction which he had formerly planned. He was determined to do the work thoroughly when he had begun. Everything that would burn was given to the flames. Not a single house was left standing. He spent a Sunday night in the castle of Mangerton, and when he left next morning he had the satisfaction of seeing it reduced to a heap of ruins. This destructive invasion must have taxed the energies of his large army, as it is said that the Armstrongs and Elliots had fifty keeps and castles on the banks of the Liddle. It is one thing, however, to destroy the rookeries; it is another and totally different thing to exterminate the crows. The Border thieves were not difficult to accommodate. They were inured to hardship. It was a necessity of their mode of life. Their “peels” and “towers” might be in ruins, but it never seemed to have occurred to them to go elsewhere, at least for any length of time. As soon as the avenging army had withdrawn, they were back to their old haunts, and in a short time had them as comfortable as ever. When a community has been demoralized by long continued misgovernment, the mere application of brute force does not go far in the way of restraining them, or helping them toward a better mode of life—a lesson which governments are often slow to learn.

But this work of “dauntoning the thieves” was also occasionally undertaken by the wardens with considerable heartiness, more especially when dealing with unfortunate culprits from the opposite wardenry. Sir Robert Cary frequently distinguished himself in this way. In his chatty and interesting “Memoirs,” he tells a story of one Geordie Bourne, whom he caused to be hanged on account of his villainies. It is to be hoped that the picture he has drawn of this man is not representative of the reivers as a whole, as it is hardly possible to conceive of a more consummate scoundrel. We shall let the warden tell the story in his own words. He says:—“This gallant with some of his associates, would, in a bravery, come and take goods in the East March. I had that night some of the garrison abroad. They met with this Geordie and his fellows driving off cattle before them. The garrison set upon them, and with a shot killed Geordie Bourne’s uncle, and he himself bravely resisting, till he was sore hurt in the head, was taken. After he was taken, his pride was such as he asked who it was that durst avow that night’s work? But when he heard it was the garrison, he was then more quiet. But so powerful and awful was this Sir Robert Car and his favourites, as there was not a gentleman in the East March that durst offend them. Presently, after he was taken, I had most of the gentlemen of the March come to me, and told me that now I had the ball at my foot, and might bring Sir Robert Car to what condition I pleased; for this man’s life was so near and dear to him, as I should have all that heart could desire for the good and quiet of the country and myself, if upon any condition I would give him his life. I heard them and their reasons; notwithstanding, I called a jury the next morning, and he was found guilty of March treason. Then they feared that I would cause him to be executed that afternoon, which made them come flocking to me that I should spare his life till the next day; and if Sir Robert Car came not himself to me, and made me not such proffers as I could not but accept, then I should do with him what I pleased. And, further, they told me plainly that if I should execute him before I heard from Sir Robert Car, they must be forced to quit their houses and fly the country; for his fury would be such against me and the March I commanded, as he would use all his power and strength to the utter destruction of the East March. They were so earnest with me, that I gave them my word he should not die that day. There was post upon post sent to Sir Robert Car; and some of them rode to him themselves to advertise him in what danger Geordie Bourne was; how he was condemned, and should have been executed that afternoon, but, by their humble suit, I gave them my word that he should not die that day; and therefore besought him that he would send to me with all speed he could, to let me know that he would be next day with me to offer good conditions for the safety of his life. When all things were quiet and the watch set at night, after supper, about ten of the clock, I took one of my men’s liveries and put it about me, and took two other of my servants with me in their liveries, and we three, as the warden’s men, came to the Provost Marshal’s, where Bourne was, and were let into his chamber. We sat down by him, and told him that we were desirous to see him, because we heard he was stout and valiant and true to his friend; and that we were sorry our master could not be moved to spare his life. He voluntarily of himself said that he had lived long enough to do so many villainies as he had done, and withal told us that he had lain with above forty men’s wives, what in England, what in Scotland; and that he had killed seven Englishmen with his own hand, cruelly murdering them; that he had spent his whole time in whoring, drinking, stealing, and taking deep revenge for slight offences. He seemed to be very penitent, and much desired a minister for the comfort of his soul. We promised him to let our master know his desire, who, we knew, would presently grant it. We took our leave of him, and presently I took order that Mr Selby, a very worthy honest preacher, should go to him, and not stir from him till his execution the next morning; for after I had heard his own confession, I was resolved no conditions should save his life; and so took order that, at the gate’s opening next morning, he should be carried to execution, which accordingly was performed.”[64]

Milder measures were sometimes adopted, and proved surprisingly efficacious—in certain circumstances. Before Sir Robert Cary was warden of the East March he was deputy to Lord Scrope, his brother-in-law, who was warden of the West March, with his headquarters in Carlisle. On one occasion, when occupying this subordinate position, intelligence was brought to him that two Scotsmen had killed a churchman in Scotland, and that they had been relieved or sheltered by one of the Græmes of Netherby. Cary determined to surprise the fugitive Scots, and about two o’clock one morning surrounded the Tower of Netherby with twenty-five horsemen. As he approached he saw a boy riding from the house as fast as his horse could carry him. Thomas Carelton came to him and said, “Do you see that boy that rideth away as fast? He will be in Scotland within this half hour, and he is gone to let them know that you are here, and the small number you have with you; and that if they make haste, on a sudden they may surprise us, and do with us what they please.” But Cary was not to be frightened. He soon gathered together three or four hundred horse from the surrounding district and as many foot, and presently set to work to get to the top of the strong tower into which the Scots had fled for refuge. The Scots, seeing how things were going, pled for mercy. “They had no sooner opened the iron gate,” says Cary, “and yielded themselves my prisoners, but we might see four hundred horse within a quarter of a mile coming to their rescue, and to surprise me and my small company; but of a sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. Then had I more to do than ever, for all our Borderers came crying with full mouths, ‘Sir, give us leave to set upon them, for these are they that have killed our fathers, our brothers, our uncles, and our cousins; and they are come, thinking to surprise you, upon weak grass nags,[65] such as they could get on a sudden; and God will put them into your hands, that we may take revenge of them for much blood that they have spilled of ours.’ I desired that they would be patient and wise, and bethought myself, if I should give them their wills, there should be few or none of them (the Scots) that would escape unkilled (there were so many deadly feuds among them), and therefore I resolved with myself to give a fair answer, but not to give them their desire. So I told them that if I were not there myself, they might do what pleased themselves; but being present, if I should give them leave, the blood that had been spilt that day would lie very heavy on my conscience, and therefore I desired them, for my sake, to forbear; and if the Scots did not presently make away with all the speed they could upon my sending to them, they should then have their wills to do what they pleased. They were ill satisfied with my answer, but durst not disobey. I sent with speed to the Scots, and bade them pack away with all the speed they could, for if they stayed the messengers’ return, there should few of them return to their own home. They made no stay, but they were turned homewards before the messenger had made an end of his message. Thus, by God’s mercy and by my means, there were a great many lives spared that day.”[66]

Thus ended happily what might otherwise have proved a disastrous encounter. Such incidents tend to prove that the Borderers might have been governed with comparative ease had they only been dealt with in a firm but kindly spirit. The rough usage to which they were frequently subjected at the hands of the government made them reckless, and not unnaturally led them to regard the law not as a friend, but as an enemy.

IX.

LIDDESDALE LIMMERS.

hough reiving may be said to have been a characteristic of the inhabitants along the whole Border line from Berwick to the Solway, yet it was only in the district known as Liddesdale where it attained, what we might designate, its complete development as a thoroughly organized system. This part of Roxburghshire is, to a certain extent, detached from the rest of the county by reason of the fact that it lies south of the range of hills which form the watershed between the Solway and the German Ocean. This picturesque and interesting district, so famous in Border song and story, is of a somewhat triangular shape, and at present forms one of the largest parishes in the south of Scotland, measuring some twenty miles by fourteen. It is bounded by England on the south, by Dumfriesshire on the west, and by the parishes of Teviothead, Hobkirk, and Southdean on the north. The upper, or northern, portion is mountainous and bleak. Some of the hills along its boundaries are high and precipitous, the lofty peaks of Millenwood Fell and Windhead attaining an elevation of close on 2000 feet. Tudhope hill, which forms a landmark for ships at sea, is 1830 feet high. The lower end of the district is less mountainous, but the whole country is wild and bare, except in the valleys, which are clothed in the richest green, and are sunny and sheltered.

Along the banks of the Hermitage and the Liddle—the latter stream giving its name to the district—the keeps and peels of the Border reivers were thickly and picturesquely planted. These towers, many of which have been happily preserved, form one of the most striking features of the Border landscape. As a general rule they were built in some situation of great natural strength, on a precipice, or close to the banks of a stream, or surrounded by woods and morasses, which made them difficult of access. The position in which they were generally placed indicated at a glance the pursuits and apprehensions of their inhabitants. It is said that when James VI. approached the castle of Lochwood, the ancient seat of the Johnstones, he exclaimed that “the man who built it must have been a knave in his heart.”

The principal part of these strongholds consisted of a large square tower, called a “keep,” having walls of immense thickness, which could be easily defended against any sudden or desultory assault. The residencies of the inferior Chiefs, called “peels” or “bastel-houses,” were generally built on a much smaller scale, and consisted merely of a high square tower, surrounded by an outer wall, which served as a protection for cattle at night. In these places the rooms were placed, one above the other, and connected by a narrow stair, which was easily blocked up or defended, so that it was possible for the garrison to hold out for a considerable period, even after the lower storey had been taken possession of by the enemy. In such circumstances the usual device was for the assailants to heap together quantities of wetted straw, and set fire to it in order to drive the defenders from storey to storey, and thus compel them to surrender.

“In each village or town,” says Sir Walter Scott, “were several small towers having battlements projecting over the side walls, and usually an advanced angle or two, with shot-holes for flanking the doorway, which was always defended by a strong door of oak, studded with nails, and often by an interior door of iron. These small peel-houses were ordinarily inhabited by the principal feuars and their families. Upon the alarm of approaching danger, the whole inhabitants thronged from their miserable cottages, which were situated around, to garrison these places of defence. It was then no easy matter for an hostile party to penetrate into the village, for the men were habituated to the use of bow and fire-arms; and the towers being generally so placed that the discharge from one crossed that from another, it was impossible to assault any of them individually.”

In the middle of the sixteenth century there were no fewer than sixteen of these bastel-houses in the village of Lessudden, a fact which shows that the inhabitants of the Border were compelled to live under somewhat peculiar conditions. To follow the ordinary occupations of life was, in most cases, all but impossible.

One of the most important strongholds on the Borders was Hermitage, a well-built castle, placed near the watershed, on the banks of a swift-flowing mountain stream—the Hermitage water, which joins the Liddle a little above the village of Newcastleton. This famous Border tower was built and fortified by Walter, Earl of Menteith, in the beginning of the thirteenth century. It was a royal fortress, built and maintained for the defence of the Kingdom. Numerous interesting associations cluster around its mouldering walls. It has, unhappily, been the scene of many a blood-curdling tragedy. Could its massive walls only recount the deeds which have been done under their shadow, they would many a strange tale unfold. Hermitage was long associated with the name of Lord Soulis, a fiend in human form, whose crimes have been painted in blackest hues, and to whom tradition has ascribed almost every conceivable kind and degree of wickedness. He seems, at least, to have been utterly destitute of the divine quality of mercy.