Part 8

Round him crush the people, crying, "Tell us all--oh, tell us true! Where are they who went to battle, Randolph Murray, sworn to you? Where are they, our brothers--children? Have they met the English foe? Why art thou alone, unfollowed? Is it weal, or is it woe?" Like a corpse the grisly warrior Looks from out his helm of steel; But no word he speaks in answer-- Only with his armed heel Chides his weary steed, and onward Up the city streets they ride; Fathers, sisters, mothers, children, Shrieking, praying by his side. "By the God that made thee, Randolph! Tell us what mischance hath come." Then he lifts his riven banner, And the asker's voice is dumb.

IV

The elders of the city Have met within their hall-- The men whom good King James had charged To watch the tower and wall. "Your hands are weak with age," he said, "Your hearts are stout and true; So bide ye in the maiden town, While others fight for you. My trumpet from the Border-side Shall send a blast so clear, That all who wait within the gate That stirring sound may hear. Or, if it be the will of Heaven That back I never come, And if, instead of Scottish shout, Ye hear the English drum, Then let the warning bells ring out, Then gird you to the fray, Then man the walls like burghers stout, And fight while fight you may. 'Twere better that in fiery flame The roofs should thunder down, Than that the foot of foreign foe Should trample in the town!"

V

Then in came Randolph Murray, His step was slow and weak, And, as he doffed his dinted helm, The tears ran down his cheek: They fell upon his corslet And on his mailed hand, As he gazed around him wistfully, Leaning sorely on his brand. And none who then beheld him But straight were smote with fear, For a bolder and a sterner man Had never couched a spear. They knew so sad a messenger Some ghastly news must bring; And all of them were fathers, And their sons were with the King.

VI

And up then rose the Provost-- A brave old man was he, Of ancient name, and knightly fame, And chivalrous degree. He ruled our city like a Lord Who brooked no equal here, And ever for the townsmen's rights Stood up 'gainst prince and peer. And he had seen the Scottish host March from the Borough muir, With music-storm and clamorous shout, And all the din that thunders out When youth's of victory sure. But yet a dearer thought had he;-- For, with a father's pride, He saw his last remaining son Go forth by Randolph's side, With casque on head and spur on heel, All keen to do and dare; And proudly did that gallant boy Dunedin's banner bear. Oh! woeful now was the old man's look, And he spake right heavily-- "Now, Randolph, tell thy tidings, However sharp they be! Woe is written on thy visage, Death is looking from thy face; Speak! though it be of overthrow-- It cannot be disgrace!"

VII

Right bitter was the agony That wrung that soldier proud; Thrice did he strive to answer, And thrice he groaned aloud. Then he gave the riven banner To the old man's shaking hand, Saying--"That is all I bring ye From the bravest of the land! Ay! ye may look upon it-- It was guarded well and long, By your brothers and your children, By the valiant and the strong. One by one they fell around it, As the archers laid them low, Grimly dying, still unconquered, With their faces to the foe. Ay! ye may well look upon it-- There is more than honour there, Else, be sure, I had not brought it From the field of dark despair. Never yet was royal banner Steeped in such a costly dye; It hath lain upon a bosom Where no other shroud shall lie. Sirs! I charge you, keep it holy; Keep it as a sacred thing, For the stain ye see upon it Was the life-blood of your King!"

VIII

Woe and woe and lamentation! What a piteous cry was there! Widows, maidens, mothers, children, Shrieking, sobbing in despair! Through the streets the death-word rushes, Spreading terror, sweeping on. "Jesu Christ! our King has fallen-- O Great God, King James is gone! Holy mother Mary, shield us, Thou who erst did lose thy Son! O the blackest day for Scotland That she ever knew before! O our King--the good, the noble, Shall we see him never more? Woe to us, and woe to Scotland! O our sons, our sons and men! Surely some have 'scaped the Southron, Surely some will come again!"

Randolph Murray describes how the monarch lies dead on the field with his nobles round him.

"All so thick they lay together, When the stars lit up the sky, That I knew not who were stricken, Or who yet remained to die."

A hollow knell is rung and the miserere is sung, and all is terror and disorder until the Provost rouses them.

"If our King be taken from us, We are left to guard his son. * * * * * Up! and haste ye through the city, Stir the burghers stout and true! Gather all our scattered people, Fling the banner out once more-- Randolph Murray! do thou bear it, As it erst was borne before: Never Scottish heart will leave it, When they see their monarch's gore!"

*Chapter XXI*

*Graeme and Bewick*

Good Lord Graeme and Sir Robert Bewick were friends. They met one day in Carlisle, and went arm in arm to the wine, and, as was too oft the custom of these days, they stayed and drank till they were both merry. Good Lord Graeme took up the cup. "Sir Robert, and here's to thee!" he said, "and here's to our two sons at home, for they like us best in our own country."

"O were your son a lad like mine," answered Bewick, boastfully, "and learnt some books that he could read, they might be two brothers in arms, and lord it over the Borderside.

'But your son's a lad, and he's but bad, And billie[#] to my son he cannot be.'

[#] Comrade, or brother-in-arms.

You sent him to school, and he would not learn; you bought him books, and he would not read!"

Lord Graeme called angrily for the reckoning. "My blessing shall he never earn," said he, "till I see how his arm can defend his head." He threw down a crown, and went to the stable, took his horse, and rode home. "Welcome, my old father," said his son, Christie Graeme, "but where were ye so long from home?" "I have been at Carlisle town, and a shamed man I am by thee," answered his father with a black look; "I have been at Carlisle town, where Sir Robert Bewick met me. He says you are but a bad, wild youth, and can never be billie to his boy. I sent you to the school, and you would not learn. I bought you books, and you would not read; therefore you shall never have my blessing till I see you save your head in fight with young Bewick." "Now God forbid, my old father, that ever such a thing should be! Billie Bewick was my master, and I his scholar, in spite of the pains he wasted in teaching me." "O hold thy tongue, thou foolish lad! If thou dost not soon end this quarrel, there's my glove, I'll fight with thee myself."

Then Christie Graeme stooped low. "Father, put on your glove again, the wind has blown it from your hand."

"What's that, thou sayst, thou limmer loon? How darest thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon, There's my right hand, thou'lt fight with me!"

Then went Christie to his chamber, to consider what should happen. Should he fight with his own father, or with his brother-in-arms, Bewick?

"If I should kill my billie dear, God's blessing I shall never win; But if I strike at my auld father, I think 'twould be a mortal sin. But if I kill my billie dear It is God's will, so let it be; But I make a vow, ere I go from home, That I shall be the next man's die."

He put a good old jack or quilted doublet on his back, and on his head he put a cap of steel, and well did he become them with his sword and buckler by his side!

Now young Bewick had taken his father's sword under his arm, and walked about his father's close. He looked between himself and the sun, to see some approaching object, and was aware of a man in bright armour, riding that way most hastily.

"O who is yon, that comes this way, So hastily that hither came? I think it be my brother dear, I think it be young Christie Graeme. Your welcome here, my billie dear, And thrice you're welcome unto me."

Christie explained that he was come to fight, that his father had been to Carlisle, and had met with the elder Bewick. He retailed what had passed, "and so I'll never earn my father's blessing, till he sees how my arm can guard my head in fight against thee."

"O God forbid, my billie dear, That ever such a thing should be! We'll take three men on either side, And see if we can our fathers agree."

Christie shook his head. He knew that it was useless. "O hold thy tongue, billie Bewick. If thou'rt a man, as I'm sure thou art, come over the dyke and fight with me."

"But I have no harness, billie, as I see you have."

"As little harness as is on your back shall be on mine."

With that Christie threw off his coat of mail and cap of steel, stuck his spear into the ground, and tied his horse up to a tree. Bewick threw off his cloak, and cast aside his psalter book. He laid his hand upon the dyke, and vaulted over. The two fought for two long hours. The sweat dropped fast from them both, but not a drop of blood could be seen to satisfy the requirements of honour. At last Graeme hit Bewick under the left breast, and he fell to the ground wounded mortally.

"Rise up, rise up, now, billie dear, Arise and speak three words to me! Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound, Or if God and good leeching[#] may succour thee?"

[#] Doctoring.

Bewick groaned. "Get to horse, billie Graeme, and get thee hence speedily. Get thee out of this country--that none may know who has done this." "O have I slain thee, billie Bewick? But I made a vow, ere I came from home, that I would be the next man to die!" Thereupon he pitched his sword hilt downwards into a mole-hill, took a run of some three and twenty feet, and on his own sword's point he fell to the ground dead.

Then up came Sir Robert Bewick. "Rise up, my son," he said, "for I think you have got the victory."

"O hold your tongue, my father dear. Let me be spared your prideful talking. You might have drunken your wine in peace, and let me and my billie be! Go dig a grave, both wide and deep, and a grave to hold us both; but lay Christie Graeme on the sunny side, for full sure I know that the victory was to him."

"Alas," cried old Bewick, "I've lost the liveliest lad that ever was born unto my name." "Alas," quoth good Lord Graeme, "my loss is the greater.

'I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy, I've lost the key, but and the lock; I durst have ridden the world around, Had Christie Graeme been at my back!'"

*Chapter XXII*

*The Song of the Outlaw Murray*

"Word is gone to our noble king, In Edinburgh where that he lay, That there was an Outlaw in Ettrick Forest Counted him nought, nor all his Court so gay."

The King mentioned in the ballad is supposed to have been either James IV. or James V. This places the date somewhere in the early part of the sixteenth century.

The Outlaw Murray and his lady kept royal state in Ettrick Forest. Here he lived with five hundred men, all gaily clad in livery of Lincoln green. His castle, built of lime and stone, stood fair and pleasantly in the midst of the Forest, surrounded by pine trees under which wandered many a hart and hind, many a doe and roe and other wild creatures. In the forefront of the castle stood two unicorns, with the picture of a knight and lady with green holly above their brows.

The King in Edinburgh heard of all this royal state and that the Outlaw in Ettrick Forest cared nought for the King of Scotland and his court.

"I make a vow," said the King, "that either I shall be King of Ettrick Forest, or the Outlaw shall be King of Scotland."

Then up spoke Lord Hamilton to the noble King, "my sovereign prince, take counsel of your nobles and of me. I counsel ye to send to the fine Outlaw and see if he will come and be your man and hold the Forest in fee from you. If he refuse, we will conquer both him and his lands, throw his castle down, and make a widow of his gay lady."

Then the King called to him James Boyd, son of the Earl of Arran, and when Boyd came and knelt before him, "Welcome, James Boyd," said the noble King; "you must go for me to Ettrick Forest where bides yonder Outlaw, ask him of whom he holds his lands, and who is his master, and desire him to come and be my man, and hold the Forest free from me. I will give him safe warrant to and from Edinburgh, and if he refuse we will conquer him and his lands, and throw down his castle, and make a widow of his gay lady; and hang his merry men pair by pair wherever we see them."

James Boyd took leave of the King and went blithely on his way, until he came to the fair Ettrick Forest, the first view of which he got coming down Birkendale Brae. He saw the doe and roe, the hart and hind and wild beasts in plenty, and heard blows ringing boldly, and arrows whizzing near by him.

He saw, too, the fair castle, the like of which he had never seen before, with the two gay unicorns on the forefront, and the picture of the knight and lady with the green holly above their brow.

Then he spied the five hundred men, all clad in livery of Lincoln green, and shooting with their bows on Newark Lee. In the midst of them was a knight armed from head to foot, mounted on a milk-white steed, with bended bow, all fine to look upon; whom Boyd knew at once to be the Outlaw himself.

"God save thee, brave Outlaw Murray, thy lady, and all thy chivalry!"

"Marry, thou art welcome, gentleman; thou seemst to be a King's messenger."

"The King of Scotland sent me here, good Outlaw, to know of whom you hold your lands, and who is your master."

"These lands are _mine_. I know no King in Christendom. I won this Forest from the English when neither the King nor his knights were there to see."

"The King desires that you come to Edinburgh, and hold the Forest then of him. If you refuse, he will conquer your lands and you, and he has vowed to throw down your castle, make a widow of your gay lady, and hang your knights pair by pair wherever he finds them."

"Ay, by my troth! I should indeed be far behind. Before the King should get my fair native land, many of his nobles would be cold, and their ladies right weary."

Then spoke the lady of the Outlaw, fair of face. "That an Outlaw should come before the King without my consent makes me fear much that there is treason. Bid him be good to his lords at home, for my lord shall ne'er see Edinburgh."

James Boyd took leave of the bold Outlaw and went back to Edinburgh, and when he came to the King, knelt lowly on his knee.

"Welcome, James Boyd," said the noble King, "of whom is Ettrick Forest held?"

"Ettrick Forest is the fairest forest that ever man saw. There are doe and roe and hart and hind and wild beasts in plenty; there's a fine castle of lime and stone standing there pleasantly, and in the forefront of the castle two unicorns all fine to see, with a picture of a knight and a lady, and the green holly above their brows. There the Outlaw keeps a royal company--five hundred merry men, all gaily clad in Lincoln green, and the Outlaw and his lady in purple. Surely they live right royally. He says that the forest is his own, that he won it from the English, and that as he won it, so will he keep it against all the Kings in Christendom."

"Go warn me Perthshire and Angus," cried the King, "go warn Fife up and down and the three Lothians, and harness my own horse, for I will myself to Ettrick Forest."

When the Outlaw heard that the King was coming to his country to conquer him and his lands:

"I make a vow," said he. "I make a vow, and that truly, that the King's coming shall be a dear one."

Then he called messengers and sent them in haste hither and thither.

"One of you go to Halliday, Laird of Corehead, my sister's son. Tell him to come quickly to my aid, for that the King comes to Ettrick Forest, and we shall all be landless."

"What news? What news, man, from thy master?" said Halliday.

"No news thou carest to hear; I come seeking your aid; the King is his mortal enemy."

"By my troth, I am sorry for that; if Murray lose fair Ettrick Forest, the King will take Moffatdale from me. I'll meet him with five hundred men, and more if need be, and before he gets to Ettrick Forest, we will all die on Newark Lee."

Another messenger went from the Outlaw to Andrew Murray of Cockpool, his dear cousin, to desire him to come and help him with all the power he could get together.

"It is hard," said Andrew Murray, "very hard to go against a crowned King and put my lands in jeopardy; but if I come not by day I shall be there at night."

A messenger went also to Sir James Murray of Traquair.

"What news? What news, man, from your master to me?" said James Murray.

"What need I tell? Well ye know that the King is his mortal enemy and that he is coming to Ettrick Forest to make ye all landless men."

"By my troth," said James Murray, "with yonder Outlaw will I live and die; the King has long ago given away my lands, so matters can be no worse for me."

So the King came on with five thousand men through Caddon Ford. They saw the dark forest before them and thought it awesome to look upon, and Lord Hamilton begged that the King should take counsel of his nobles and should desire the Outlaw to meet him at Permanscore with four of his company and that the King should go there also accompanied by five Earls. "If he refuse to do that, we'll conquer both him and his lands; there shall never a Murray after him hold lands free in Ettrick Forest."

The Laird of Buckscleuth, a man stalwart and stern, thought it beneath the state and dignity of a King to go and meet an Outlaw. "The man that lives in yonder forest, lives by robbery and felony! wherefore, ride on, my liege; we will follow thee with fire and sword; or if your courtier lords fall back, our Borderers will make the onset."

But the King spoke forth, casting a wily glance around. "Thou mayest hold _thy_ tongue, Sir Walter Scott, nor speak more of robbery and felony, for if every honest man had his own cattle thy clan would be a poor one."

The King then called to him a gentleman, a royal banner-bearer, James Hoppringle of Torsonse by name, who came and knelt before him. "Welcome, James Pringle of Torsonse, ye must take a message for me; go to yonder Outlaw Murray, where he bideth so boldly; bid him meet me at Permanscore with four of his company, I myself will come to him with five Earls. If he refuse, bid him look for no favour from me. There shall never a Murray after him have free land in Ettrick Forest."

So James Pringle came before the Outlaw. "Welcome James Pringle of Torsonse! What message bringst thou from the King to me?"

"He bids ye meet him at Permanscore, with four of your company, and he will go there himself with no more than five Earls. If you refuse, he will cast down your bonny castle, make a widow of your gay lady, and loose on you the bloodhound Borderers to harry you with fire and sword. Never shall a Murray after you hold free land in Ettrick Forest."

"It goes hard with me," said the Outlaw; "judge if it go not very hard. I mind not the losing of myself, but when I think of my offspring after me, my merry men's lives, my widow's tears, that is the pang that pinches me. Yonder castle will be right dreary when I am laid in bloody earth. Auld Halliday, young Halliday, ye two shall go with me, with Andrew and James Murray."

When they came before the King they fell on their knees. "Mercy, mercy, noble King, for His sake who died on the Cross."

"Such mercy shall ye have; ye shall be hanged on the gallows."

"May God forbid, and may your mercy be better than that, else, when ye come to the port of Edinburgh, ye shall be thinly guarded. These lands of fair Ettrick Forest I won from the Southrons, and as I won them so will I keep them, against all the Kings in Christendom."

The nobles round the King thought it a pity that he should die.

"Grant me mercy, sovereign prince, and extend me favour. If thou wilt make me Sheriff of Ettrick Forest, and my offspring after me, I will give thee the keys of my castle, and the blessing of my gay lady."

"If thou wilt give me thy castle keys and the blessing of thy gay lady, I'll make thee Sheriff of Ettrick Forest as long as the trees grow upward, and never shalt thou forfeit it, if thou be not a traitor to the King."

"But Prince, what shall become of my men? When I go back they will call me traitor. I had rather lose both life and land than be rebuked by my merry-men."

"I will pardon them all if they amend their lives. Name thy lands where they lie, and I will render them back to thee."

"Philiphaugh and Lewinhope are mine by right, Newark, Foulshiells and Tinnies I won by my bow and arrow. I have farms at Newark Lee and Hangingshaw which are mine by birth, and I have many farms in the Forest whose names I do not know." Thereupon he gave the King the key of his castle, with the blessing of his fair lady, and the King made him Sheriff of Ettrick Forest for as long as the trees should grow upward, never to be forfeited while he and his descendants remained faithful to the King. Much of this land belongs to Murray's heirs, even to this day.

"Wha ever heard in, in ony times, Sicken an outlaw in his degre, Sic favour got befor a King, As did the Outlaw Murray of the Foreste free?"

*Chapter XXIII*

*Johnie Armstrong*

"When Johnie came before the King, With all his men so brave to see, The King he moved his bonnet to him; He knew he was a King as well as he."

In 1529 James V. visited the Border country to execute justice on the wild freebooters. Of these the chief was Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie, who levied blackmail for many miles round his residence at the Hollows, and spread the terror of his name as far as Newcastle. Acting on the evil counsel of false friends, Johnie presented himself before the King in all the pomp of Border chivalry.

According to the old ballad the King wrote with his own hand a loving letter to Johnie Armstrong, Laird of Gilnockie, bidding him come and speak with him speedily. Whereupon the Elliots and Armstrongs convened a meeting, to which they came in gallant company, and decided to ride out to meet the King and bring him to Gilnockie.

"Make ready rabbits and capon and venison in plenty," said Johnie, "and we'll welcome home our royal King to dine at Gilnockie."

So they ran out their horses on Langholm Down, and broke their spears, and the ladies, looking from their high windows, cried "God send our men safe home again."

When Johnie came before the King with all his brave fellows, the King took off his bonnet to him as to an equal.

"My name is Johnie Armstrong," said the freebooter, "your subject, my liege; let me find grace for my loyal men and me."

But the King cried, "Away with thee, thou traitor, out of my sight! Never have I granted a traitor's life, nor will I now begin with thee!"