Part 13

His mother had died when he was an infant, and his father, the foremost Roman Catholic nobleman in England, took up the cause of Mary Queen of Scots, whom he wished to marry. For this treason against Queen Elizabeth he was beheaded in 1572, when young Lord William was only nine years old. At the age of fourteen the young lord's guardians arranged for him a marriage with Elizabeth Dacre, a member of a powerful Border family, and heiress to the Baronry of Gilsland. As the bride was even younger than her boy-husband, let us hope that they both went to school again immediately after the marriage!

When he grew to manhood, Lord William warmly supported the Roman Catholic cause and was imprisoned by Elizabeth; but when James became King, he was released and restored to his estates on the Border. Throughout the remainder of his career he was the most notable man of his district. He knew how to make himself respected by his wild neighbours. His fame and power were great. He founded the fortunes of his family so surely that he it is who is usually thought of as the ancestor of the Earls of Carlisle, though his great-grandson was the first to hold the title.

Lord William had great energy and many interests, and was remarkable as being an "all-round" man. He was equally a leader of men and a lover of books; no detail in the management of his estates was too small for him to study; he was a good husband to his wife, and a splendid father to his fifteen children. He selected the most beautiful of his several castles, that of Naworth, and repaired and almost rebuilt it; he took there the fine old oak ceiling from the ancient castle of Kirkoswald, which was ornamented with portraits of all the kings of England. Visitors to Naworth can see to-day the "hall of Belted Will," by kind permission of the present Earl of Carlisle.

He was something of a poet and very much of an antiquarian. His estates were full of interesting things, and none knew them better than he. There were miles of the Roman wall, still in excellent condition; there were many Roman altars and inscriptions, which he copied and translated; quite near him, at Coome Crags, was a Roman quarry, which can still be seen to-day, with marks of Roman tools on its stones. It stands in a beautiful wood by the side of the lovely river Irthing. And only a little further on, standing on a fine cliff overlooking the river, is the old Roman station of Amboglanna, a fort that covered five and a half acres, with walls that were once five feet thick, the main foundations of which are still standing, clear enough for anyone to trace them out. It is quieter there to-day than it was in Roman times, or in the stirring days of Belted Will!

It is good to think that this broad-shouldered, gallant, powerful nobleman, who could ride, shoot, fight and keep this wild district in order, was at the same time such a clever student and book-worm. They tell a story that he was once sitting in his library intent on a book when his men brought in a robber whom they had caught red-handed, and asked Lord William to try him. Belted Will, angry at being interrupted, cried out:--"Don't disturb me; hang him!" Half an hour later he rose and came down to try the man, but finding that he was already hanged he went on with his book. It is only fair to add that robbers in those days expected no mercy when caught.

One of the many clever things that Lord William did was to have figures carved in oak to represent soldiers; these he placed on the top of his high towers, and deceived the Scots into thinking that he had a large and very watchful garrison! These figures can still be seen at Naworth. Near Naworth Castle is Lanercost Priory, where King Edward I. stayed on his way to Scotland. There is a secret passage from Naworth tower which is supposed to run under the river to Lanercost. No one is allowed to go through it, as it is considered dangerous; the people of the district say that the last man to do so was Oliver Cromwell.

Visitors to Naworth to-day should certainly go on to Gilsland itself, the picturesque straggling little town, which was the head of the Baronry which Elizabeth Dacre brought to her boy-husband. The Irthing at Gilsland runs through a wonderfully beautiful gorge, rocky and wooded, wild and romantic. Stand on the venturesome stepping stones near the old church, with the river rushing at your very feet, and see if this is an exaggeration of the beauties of the scene. Right in the midst of the glen you can see the "Popping-stone" where Sir Walter Scott walked with the lady of his choice and asked her to marry him. Readers of "Guy Mannering" can see in Over Denton church near Gilsland the grave of Meg Merrilees, who died here at the age of ninety-eight. The town is also interesting for the fact that the county border is at Gilsland, and there is an inn so built that it stands in both counties, and contains a bed in which you can sleep with your head in Northumberland and your feet in Cumberland!

There is a story of Belted Will that tells eloquently of the strength of his character. When he was released from prison by King James he found his estates so ruined by careless management that he knew that great care was needed to put things right again; so until he got his affairs into order, all the pocket-money that he would allow himself was twenty shillings per month!

Bold William, Belted Will, gallant Lord Howard, as you will, died at Naworth in 1640 aged seventy-seven, one year after the death of his devoted wife. His descendants were, like himself, students and men of action; the present Earl of Carlisle is directly sprung from him, and is very proud of the fact.

*Chapter XLI*

*Gilderoy*

Gilderoy was a celebrated and most daring highwayman, who roamed far, and was well-known all over Scotland and indeed in London. His death inspired a very striking ballad, but this is hardly a Border Lowland ballad, but refers chiefly to another Border district, namely, that between the Lowlands and Highlands. Just as the Scottish Lowlanders thought the English their legitimate quarry, so the Highlanders in turn looked upon the Lowlanders as created to supply them with all they lacked. There is a story on record of a Highland chief who, finding his men had carelessly robbed another Highlander, returned the spoil with a handsome apology, and issued stringent orders that in future nothing was to be taken except in the Lowlands, "where all men make their prey."

Among the robber clans of the Highlands, the MacGregors stand easily in the first rank. In a long series of Scottish Acts of Parliament, they are habitually referred to as "the wicked clan Gregor, so long continuing in blood, slaughter, theft, and robbery." One of their most famous exploits was the battle of Glenfruin, when they defeated their enemies, the Colquhouns, and slew two hundred of them. The Colquhouns appeared before the King at Stirling with the bloody shirts stripped off their dead, and the law was put in motion against the MacGregors more vigorously than ever. This was in 1603. The execution of Gilderoy, as described in our poem, took place in 1638. His real name was Patrick MacGregor, and the fact that he belonged to this Ishmaelite clan, whose hand was directed against every man, and whose very name had been solemnly abolished, may well serve as an excuse for his career of crime. Gilderoy, in Gaelic, means the red-haired gillie or lad, and besides the name there are many other points of similarity between him and Rob Roy, who was the head of the Clan MacGregor in the following century. Both Gilderoy and Rob Roy were professional blackmailers, that is, they could be relied on never to plunder anyone who was prudent enough to buy them off by paying a fixed contribution. This is what is meant in the following lines of the ballad--

"All these did honestly possess He never did annoy, Who never failed to pay their cess To my love, Gilderoy."

The "cess" is the blackmail, or insurance against robbery. The widespread reputation of Gilderoy is attested by the many legends of him which are printed in the old chap-books and "Lives of the Highwaymen." According to these authorities, Gilderoy once robbed Oliver Cromwell near Glasgow; but an even more romantic episode of his career was a roaming trip upon the continent, in the course of which he is said to have picked Cardinal Richelieu's pocket while he was celebrating mass in the King's presence, at the church of St Denis in Paris. He made his way even to Madrid, where he succeeded in carrying off the Duke of Medina-Cell's plate. Altogether a most notorious and dashing cateran. The ballad is supposed to be spoken by a young woman who had all her life been attached to him.

"Gilderoy was a bonnie boy, Had roses to his shoon;[#] His stockings were of silken soy, With garters hanging down. It was, I ween, a comely sight To see so trim a boy; He was my jo, and heart's delight, My handsome Gilderoy. * * * * * My Gilderoy and I were born Both in one town together; We scant were seven years before We 'gan to love each other. Our daddies and our mammies they Were filled with meikle joy, To think upon the bridal day Of me and Gilderoy."

[#] Shoes.

But there intervened the spirit of adventure which had ever been the birthright of all of his surname,

"Oh, that he still had been content With me to lead his life! But ah! his manful heart was bent To stir in deeds of strife; And he in many a venturous deed His courage bold would try; And now this gars[#] my heart to bleed For my dear Gilderoy."

[#] Makes.

No doubt those who knew Gilderoy personally would have agreed, as was actually said of Rob Roy, that he was a benevolent and humane man "in his way."

"My Gilderoy, both far and near, Was feared in every town; And boldly bore away the gear Of many a Lowland loun, For man to man durst meet him none, He was so brave a boy; At length with numbers he was ta'en, My winsome Gilderoy."

He was not so fortunate as Rob Roy, who ultimately died peacefully in his bed. Gilderoy had lost the game, and he had to pay the stakes.

"Of Gilderoy so feared they were, They bound him fast and strong; To Edinbro' they led him there, And on a gallows hung. They hung him high above the rest, He was so trim a boy; There died the youth whom I loved best, My handsome Gilderoy."

Thus perished one of the characteristic products of an age whose standards were so different from ours that we can hardly judge him fairly. He was banned before his birth, a scion of a race so indomitably and innately ferocious that the law attempted to extirpate them, root and branch. The very name of Gregor could be given by no clergyman at baptism, under penalty of deprivation and banishment. Cunning and politic neighbours were not slow to take advantage of the stubborn disposition of the MacGregors, and gradually stripped them of their once extensive lands in Argyle and Perthshire. Gilderoy might well consider that he was "an honester man than stood on any of their shanks," and we may be excused for feeling a very lively sympathy with him, and for echoing in our inmost hearts the exquisitely feminine point of view expressed by the lady composer of the ballad.

"If Gilderoy had done amiss, He might have banished been; Ah! what sore cruelty is this To hang such handsome men! To hang the flower of Scottish land, So sweet and fair a boy! No lady had so white a hand As thee, my Gilderoy!

When he had yielded up his breath I bare his corpse away; With tears, that trickled for his death, I washt his comely clay; And sicker[#] in a grave sae deep I laid the dear lo'ed boy; And now for ever maun I weep, My winsome Gilderoy."

[#] Safely.

*Chapter XLII*

*Archie Armstrong's Oath*

"And oft since then, to England's King, The story he has told; And aye, when he 'gan rock and sing, Charlie his sides would hold."

Archie Armstrong lived in Eskdale, where he did his best to keep up the grand reputation of his family as being among the very boldest sheep-stealers of the Border. His house was at Stubholm, where the Wauchope stream runs into the river Esk, near where the picturesque town of Langholm now stands. Living in the reign of Charles I., after the union of crowns, the profession of freebooter was far less honourable than of old. He could not now plead that he was a Border soldier, fighting against his nation's enemy. The wild Border blood in him might cry out for the old adventurous career, but he could no longer hope for the aid of powerful Border families. When cornered, his sole protector would be his own wits, and woe betide him if they failed!

Archie's house was about eight miles from the Border, and he could not help strolling towards the fascinating line and tasting the sweetness of temptation. When the chance came that seemed to him sufficiently safe, he would go home in company though he had walked out alone; the "company" being a good fat English sheep. One night a shepherd had marked him lingering about, and had watched him, and raised an alarm. Away went stout Archie at a Marathon pace; half way home he passed Gilnockie tower, where his ancestor bold Johnie Armstrong lived so gaily. "Alas!" thought Archie, dolefully, "he too was hanged in the end!"

He got home well in front of his pursuers, but his wife gave him small encouragement. With typical Scottish dourness she remarked to him, "Ye will be ta'en this night and hanged i' the morning."

But Archie put a braw face on it, and declared that he would never hang for one silly sheep. Quicker than any butcher he skinned and roughly trimmed the dead animal, throwing the rejected parts into the swift stream. Then rejoicing in the fact that his child was away with its aunt, he put the carcase carefully in the cradle and began rocking it and singing a lullaby to it, as if he were the most loving father in all the British Isles.

The pursuers now rushed in, and began to accuse Archie triumphantly; but he rebuked them for making so much noise, telling them that his child was at death's door! As for stealing their sheep, he took a solemn oath that if he had done such a thing he would ask to be doomed to "eat the flesh this very cradle holds!"

Such an oath on the Borders was a very serious matter; they little knew that the only flesh in the cradle was sheep's flesh, which Archie asked nothing better than to devour!

Impressed but not convinced, his enemies carefully searched the whole of Archie's house and garden; it was only with very great unwillingness that they at last decided that they must miss the supreme pleasure of hanging him! They went away saying that they must have been deluded by the devil or by witches; and the shepherd resolved to hang a branch of rowan-tree (mountain-ash) by his fold, for that was well-known to have the power to keep witches away.

As soon as they were all on their road to England again, Archie skipped about like a dancing fiddler. "Wife," he said, "I never knew before that I would make such a good nurse."

After this Archie wandered down to London, and his wild jests becoming famous, he was made Court Jester by King Charles I. And many a time he acted the story to the King, rocking a pretended cradle, and singing a persuasive lullaby, to the King's intense amusement.

Nevertheless, Archie lost his place by his boldness. These were the days of Archbishop Laud (1637), who was hated by the Scots. One day, as the archbishop was about to say grace before dinner, Archie asked the King's permission to say grace instead. The King consented, and the jester's double-meaning words were as follows:--

"All _praise_ to God, and little _laud_ to the devil!"

The archbishop, in many senses a little man, had Archie dismissed in disgrace. But, such were the chances of these uncertain times, the archbishop was executed in the end, while the sheepstealer escaped that fate!

*Chapter XLIII*

*Christie's Will*

The resourceful Archie, whose tale we have just told, was not the only one of the reckless Armstrongs to keep up the old freebooting habits in the reign of Charles I. There lived at Gilnockie tower (the old residence of the famous Johnie Armstrong) in the parish of Cannobie, a notorious Willie Armstrong, known as Christie's Will. Like Archie, he more than once owed his life to his ready wit. He was shut up in Jedburgh jail when the Earl of Traquair, Lord High Treasurer, paid the prison an official visit. When he asked Will the cause of his being there, the freebooter answered:--

"For stealing two halters, my lord."

Traquair was surprised, but Will afterwards owned that there was a fine colt at the end of each halter.

Traquair was amused and pleased by the boldness of the man, and had him set free.

Some little time afterwards Traquair was involved in a law-suit which was set down to be decided by Lord Durie, who seems to have let it be known before-hand what his opinion was upon the case. Nothing would save Traquair's interests except that Durie must be got out of the way before the case began. But how was it to be done?

Christie's Will was appealed to, and merely said "Leave it to me."

It was the judge's habit to take horseback exercise on the sands of Leith without any attendant. One morning, whilst so riding, a well-dressed and gentlemanly stranger, on a good horse, happened to overtake him; a courteous greeting led to a friendly conversation, in which the stranger proved himself so affable and entertaining that the judge rode on by his side without suspicion. Suddenly, when they had come to a lonely spot, Lord Durie found himself seized by this muscular gentleman, smothered up in a big cloak, whisked off his horse and on to the stranger's, who galloped off, mischief knows where! It was Christie's Will, carrying out his promise.

The judge's horse galloped home, riderless. Search was made, but the judge could not be found. It could only be supposed that he had been thrown off into the sea. His successor was appointed, and Lord Traquair's case was heard and won!

Lord Durie had languished for several months in a dreary underground vault. I wonder if he thought of the many poor wretches he had sentenced to a similar fate? Suddenly at midnight he was roughly awakened, muffled up as before, and carried away again by his captor on horseback. Next morning, by the light of the newly-risen sun, he found himself on the very spot by the sands of Leith from which he had been kidnapped! We will hope that every one, including his successor, was glad when he thus came to life again.

When the Civil War began, the Earl of Traquair was faithful to King Charles I. Having some papers of importance that he wished to have given into the King's own hands, he entrusted these to the bold freebooter. Christie's Will did his errand, and received an equally important answer. But spies at Court had given Cromwell word of the matter, and the command was sent up to Carlisle that Will Armstrong must be intercepted there. Not knowing his danger, Will halted in the town to refresh his horse, then pushed forward to the bridge which crossed the Eden on the Northern boundary of the city. Cromwell's soldiers were waiting for him; the bridge was high and narrow, the broad Eden waters were swirling in high flood.

Christie's Will, without one second's hesitation, spurred his horse over the parapet. He sank ... he came up ... he sank ... he came up ... he sank ... he came up, this time at the very bank. He cut his heavy, dripping cloak from his shoulders; relieved of the weight, his horse struggled to the land. Away went Will, away went the troopers after him. It was a hard race to the river Esk, and this also Will had to swim. But now he was in Scotland, and his friends were at hand; gaily Will turned to his pursuers, who dared not cross the water; "Good friends," cried he, "come over and drink with me!" But they showed him their backs, and their horses's tails, and he saw no more of them.

Such were the exploits of Christie's Will; he was the last of the free-booters, but he certainly knew how to live up to their boldest traditions.

*Chapter XLIV*

*Northumberland at the time of the Civil War*

During the stormy days of King Charles I., the Borders, and especially Northumberland, saw many stirring scenes. It must be remembered that shortly before the Long Parliament was elected, King Charles almost came to war with the Scottish Presbyterians, because they would not obey the harsh rule of Archbishop Laud. The Scots raised an army under the lead of shrewd general Alexander Leslie, the "old, little, crooked soldier," of great experience, trained by the great Gustavus of Sweden. In 1639 Charles sent ships up to the Forth, in reply to which Leslie marched his army to threaten the border. The old quarrel between the two countries began to blaze up again. King Charles led an army to the border and was received with splendid applause at Newcastle. Many joined his army, and shouted with joy at the thought of meeting the Scots in battle. But they were an untrained disorderly crew, who fired their guns off at random and kept no military order whatever. Gallant Leslie marched his men down to Duns Law, in South Berwickshire, and was ready to fight. But King Charles would not trust his army that length; he made terms with his opponents, promising them the reforms they set their hearts upon, and the two armies melted away like school-boys at the end of the term.

Things were soon as bad as before. Lord Conway was sent by the King to put Newcastle into a strong defensive state. His greatest difficulty was to get money for the purpose, for the King's quarrel with his various Parliaments had deprived him of supplies. The badly paid troops mutinied, and the ring-leader was shot. Very soon the Scottish army came across the Tweed, the Highlanders armed with bows and arrows.

They pitched their camp on Heddon Law, and soon proved to the country folk that they had not come for plunder, but would pay for all they wanted to eat. This re-assured the country people, who had no real quarrel with the Scots, and even became most friendly to them.

With Lord Conway it was otherwise; he was the King's officer, and was bound to offer resistance. His opinion was that if once the Scots crossed the Tyne, and attacked Newcastle from the south or Gateshead side, they were sure of victory. Accordingly, leaving a strong garrison to protect the town, he marched out with two thousand or more foot and fully one thousand horse to command the important ford across the Tyne at Newburn, a place five or six miles due west of Newcastle. It is interesting to remember that here also the Romans had had fortifications, along the line of the wall, and the very spot where the Scots and English fought may well have been the scene of contests between the Roman Legions and the wild Picts.