CHAPTER XI.

=The Romances.=

MATCH OF ARCHERY AT ASHBY.

“IVANHOE.”

The match in which the yeoman Locksley overcomes all the antagonists whom Prince John brings up against him, finds a parallel, and indeed we may say foundation, in the ballad of “Adam Bell, Clym o’ the Cleugh, and William of Cloudeslea.” The story of the ballad bears, that these three “perilous outlaws,” having wrought great devastation among the “foresters of the fee” and liege burghers of Carlisle, while in the act of rescuing one of their companions from prison, “fure up to London Town” to crave of their Sovereign a charter of peace. This, by the intercession of the Queen, he grants them; but no sooner is the royal word passed for their pardon, than messengers arrive from the “North Countrye,” with the tidings of the deadly havoc. The King happens to be quietly engaged in eating his dinner at the time, and is completely thunderstruck at the intelligence, so that,—

“Take up the table,” then said he, “For I can eat no mo’.”

He straightway assures the three offenders, that if they do not prevail over every one of his own bowmen, their lives shall be forfeited.

“Then they all bent their good yew bows, _Looked that their strings were rownd_, And twice or thrice they shot their shafts Full deftly in that stound.

“Then out spoke William of Cloudeslea, ‘By him that for me died, I hold him not a good archer That shoots at butt so wide.’

“‘Whereat, I crave,’ then said the King, ‘That thou wilt tell to me?’ ‘At such a butt, sire, as we wont To use in our countrye.’

“Then William, with his brethren twain, Stept forth upon the green, And there set up two hazel rods, Twenty score pace between.”

The reader will recollect that Locksley upbraids his adversary, after his unsuccessful shot, for not having made an allowance for the pressure of the breeze. Cloudeslea gives a caution to the spectators no less minute:

“He prayed the people that were there That they would all still stand; ‘He that for such a wager shoots, Has need of steady hand;’”

and, having chosen a “bearing flane,” splits the wand.

KENILWORTH CASTLE.

“KENILWORTH.”

KENILWORTH CASTLE was in former times one of the most magnificent piles in England. In the days of its prosperity it took a military part, and it still retains traces of a warlike character,—though the foliage which overspreads its remains, has softened down the ruins into the appearance of a peaceful mansion. It was first destroyed by Cromwell, in revenge of its possessor having favoured the royal cause. Since then it has been gradually decaying, and another century will probably bring it to the ground.

History mentions Kenilworth so early as the reign of Henry I. At that time it was private property, but afterwards fell into the hands of the Crown, in which it continued till Elizabeth bestowed it upon her favourite, Leicester. This nobleman, profuse and extravagant to the last degree, is said to have expended upon it no less than £60,000.

One of the most remarkable events in the history of this castle is the entertainment given by the latter proprietor to Elizabeth, which forms the groundwork of the beautiful romance of “Kenilworth.” The traditionary recollection of this grand festivity still lives in the country, such having been the impression made upon the minds of the country people by the grandeur of the occasion, that, in a lapse of 250 years, it has not decayed in their remembrance. The following is an account, given by an eye-witness, of her Majesty’s reception:—

“On the 9th of July, 1575, in the evening, the Queen approached the first gate of the castle. The porter, a man tall in person, and of stern countenance, with a club and keys, accosted her Majesty in a rough speech, full of passion, in metre, aptly made for the purpose, and demanded the cause of all this din, and noise, and reeling about, within the charge of his office. But upon seeing the Queen, as if he had been struck instantaneously, and pierced, at the presence of a personage so evidently expressing heroical sovereignty, he fell down on his knees, humbly prays pardon for his ignorance, yields up his club and keys, and proclaims open gates and free passage to all.

“Immediately the trumpeters, who stood on the wall, being six in number, each eight feet high, with their silvery trumpets of five feet long, sounded up a tune of welcome.

“Those harmonious blasters maintained their delectable music while the Queen rode through the tilt-yard to the grand entrance of the castle, which was washed by the lake.

“As she passed, a movable island approached, on which sat the Lady of the Lake, who offered up her dominion to her Majesty, which she had held since the days of King Arthur.

“This scene ended by a delectable harmony of hautbois, shalms, cornets, with other loud musical instruments, playing while her Majesty passed into the castle gate.

“When she entered the castle, a new scene was presented to her.—Several of the heathen gods brought their gifts before her—Sylvanus, god of the woods, Pomona with fruit, Ceres with corn, Bacchus with grapes, Neptune with his trident, Mars with his arms, Apollo with musical instruments,—all presented themselves to welcome her Majesty in this singular place. An inscription over the gate explained the whole.

“Her Majesty was graciously pleased to accept the gifts of these divinities, when was struck up a concert of flutes and other soft music. When, alighting from her palfrey, she was conveyed into her chamber, when her arrival was announced through the country by a peal of cannon from the ramparts, and fireworks at night.”

Here the Queen was entertained for nineteen days, at an expense of £1000 a day. The Queen’s genius seems to have been greatly consulted in the pomp and solemnity of the whole, to which some have added the entertainment of bear-baiting, etc.

The great clock was stopped during her Majesty’s continuance in the castle, as if time had stood still, waiting on the Queen, and seeing her subjects enjoy themselves.

DAVID RAMSAY.

“NIGEL.”

“In the year 1634, Davy Ramsay, his Majesty’s clockmaker, made an attempt to discover a precious deposit supposed to be concealed in the cloister of Westminster Abbey, but a violent storm of wind put a stop to his operations.”—_Lilly’s Life_, p. 47. This Ramsay, according to Osborne, in his _Traditional Memorials_, used to deliver money and watches, to be recompensed, with profit, when King James should sit on the King’s chair at Rome, so near did he apprehend (by astrology, doubtless,) the downfall of the papal power. His son wrote several books on astrological subjects, of which his _Astrologia Restaurata_ is very entertaining. In the preface he says that his father was of an ancient Scottish family, viz. of Eighterhouse, (Auchterhouse,) “which had flourished in great glory for 1500 years, till these latter days,” and derives the clan from Egypt, (it is wonderful that the idea of gipsies did not startle him,) where the word Ramsay signifies joy and delight. But he is extremely indignant that the world should call his father “no better than a watchmaker,” asserting that he was, in fact, page of the bedchamber, groom of the privy chamber, and _keeper of all his Majestie’s clocks and watches_. “Now, how this,” quoth he to the reader, “should prove him a watchmaker, and no other, more than the late Earles of Pembroke ordinary chamberlains, because they bore this office in the King’s house, do thou judge.”—_Mr. Sharp’s Notes to Law’s Memorialls._

THE REDGAUNTLET FAMILY.

“REDGAUNTLET.”

It is supposed that the characters, if not the fortunes, of the Redgauntlet family, are founded upon those of the Griersons of Lagg. This celebrated, or rather notorious family, is of considerable antiquity in Galloway,[75]—a district abounding, to a greater degree than either Wales or the Highlands of Scotland, in families of remote origin and honourable descent. Grierson of Lagg was one of those border barons, whose fame and wealth the politic James V. endeavoured to impair, by lodging himself and his whole retinue upon them during a progress, to the irreparable ruin of their numerous flocks, and the alienation of their broad lands. The Grierson family never recovered the ground then lost; and has continued, down even to the present day, to struggle with many difficulties in supporting its dignity. Sir Robert Grierson, grandfather of the present Laird, made himself conspicuous in the reigns of the latter Stuarts, by the high hand which he carried in persecuting the recusant people of his own districts, and by the oppression which the spirit of those unhappy times empowered him to exercise upon his tenants and immediate dependants. He was but a youth when these unhappy transactions took place, and survived the Restoration nearly fifty years. His death, which took place in 1736, was in the remembrance of people lately alive. Many strange traditionary stories are told about him in Dumfriesshire, and, in particular, the groundwork of “Wandering Willie’s Tale” is quite well known and accredited among the common people thereabouts. The popular account of his last illness, death, and burial, are exceedingly absurd and amusing, and we willingly give them a place in our motley record.

Sir Robert Grierson died in the town of Dumfries. The house where this memorable incident took place is still pointed out. It is now occupied by a decent baker, and is a house of singular construction, having a spiral or _turnpike_ stair, like the old houses of Edinburgh, on which account it is termed _the Turnpike House_. It is at a distance of about two hundred yards from the river Nith; and it is said that when Sir Robert’s feet were in their torment of heat, and caused the cold water in which they were placed to boil, relays of men were placed between the house and the river, to run with pails of water to supply his bath; and still, as one pail was handed in, the preceding one was at the height of boiling-heat, and quite intolerable to the old Laird’s unfortunate extremities. Sir Robert at length died, and was laid in a hearse to be taken to the churchyard, which was some miles off. But, oh the mysterious interferences of the evil one! though six stout horses essayed their utmost might, they could not draw the wicked persecutor’s body along; and there stood, fixed to the spot, as though they had been yoked to the stedfast Criffel instead of an old family hearse! In this emergency, when the funeral company were beginning to have their own thoughts, Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, an old friend of the Laird’s, happened to come up, with two beautiful Spanish horses, and, seeing the distress they were in, swore an oath, and declared that he would drive old Legg, though the devil were in him. So saying, he yoked his Spanish barbs to the hearse, mounted the box himself, and drove away at a gallop towards the place of interment. The horses ran with such swiftness that their master could not restrain them, and they stopped at the churchyard gate, not by any management or direction on his part, but by some miraculous and supernatural agency. The company came slowly up in the course of an hour thereafter, and Sir Robert Grierson was, after all, properly interred, though not without the loss of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick’s beautiful horses, which died in consequence of their exertions.

* * * * *

The story of the Redgauntlet horse-shoe seems to have its foundation in the following:—

“Major Weir’s mother appears to have set the example of witchcraft to her children, as Jean Weir, while in prison, declared that ‘she was persuaded that her mother was a witch; for the secretest thing that either I myself, or any of the family, could do, when once a mark appeared upon her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great distance.’ Being demanded what sort of a mark it was, she answered, ‘I have some such like mark myself, when I please, upon my forehead.’ Whereupon she offered to uncover her head, for visible satisfaction. The minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery, was earnestly requested by some spectators to allow the freedom. He yielded: she put back her head-dress, and, seeming to frown, there was an exact horse-shoe, shaped for nails, in her wrinkles, terrific enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder.”—_Sinclair’s Satan’s Invisible World Discovered._

THE END.

FOOTNOTES:

[75] “The family of Grierson is descended from Gilbert, the second son of Malcolm, Laird of M‘Gregor, who died in 1374. His son obtained a charter from the Douglas family of the lands and barony of Lagg, in Nithsdale, and Little Dalton, in Annandale; since which his descendants have continued in Nithsdale, and married into the best families in that part of the country, namely those of Lord Maxwell, the Kirkpatricks of Closeburn, the Charterises of Amisfield, the Fergusons of Craigdarroch, and of the Duke of Queensberry.”—_Grose’s Antiquities of Scotland._

* * * * *

[Transcriber’s Note—the following changes have been made to this text.

Frontispiece: SUBSEQUANTLY to SUBSEQUENTLY—“AND SUBSEQUENTLY BY”.

Page vi: BALDERSTON to BALDERSTONE—“(CALEB BALDERSTONE)”.

Page 6: stiil to still—“still continue to be”.

Page 17: dittograph “during during” corrected—“during the sermon”.

Page 31: boronet to baronet—“baronet of Orchardston”.

Page 56: imimmediately to immediately—“it was immediately opened”.

Page 58: Here to Her—“Her propensities”.

Page 93: Burley to Burly—“history of Burly”.

Page 118: nïaveté to naïveté—“marked by a naïveté”.

Page 120, note: Carpshearn to Carsphearn—“Semple, of Carsphearn.”

Page 136, note: Tripatiarchicon to Tripatriarchicon—“copy of the Tripatriarchicon”.

Page 144: thefirst to the first—“the first intelligence”.

Page 147: Trament to Tranent—“Berwick to Tranent”.

Page 149, note: ca to ça—“_ça ira_”.

Page 182: decendants to descendants—“his descendants have continued”.]