not tell; I am sure he could not do it himself, if he were living. It is known that they were prodigiously numerous; I dare say, numberless, For a great part of his long life, he reigned with sovereign sway over a numerous and powerful gang of gypsey tinkers, who took their range over Carrick in Ayrshire, the Carrick mountains, and over the stewartry and shire of Galloway; and now and then, by way of improving themselves, and seeing more of the world, they crossed at Donaghadee, and visited the counties of Down and Derry. I am not very sure about giving you up Meg Merrilies quite so easily; I have reason to think, she was a Marshal, and not a Gordon: and we folks in Galloway, think this attempt of the borderers, to rob us of Meg Merrilies, no proof that they have become quite so religious and pious, as your author would have us to believe, but rather that, with their religion and piety, they still retain some of their ancient habits. We think, this attempt to deprive us of Meg Merrilies, almost as bad as that of the descendants of the barbarous Picts, now inhabiting the banks of the Dee in Aberdeenshire, who some years ago attempted to run off with the beautiful lyric of Mary's Dream; and which we were under the necessity of proving, in one of the courts of Apollo, to be the effusion of Low's muse, on the classic and romantic spot, situated at the conflux of the Dee and the Ken, in the stewartry of Galloway. But to return from this digression to Billy Marshal:-I will tell you every thing more about him I know; hoping this may catch the eye of some one who knew him better, and who will tell

you more.

Billy Marshal's account of himself was this: he was born in or about the year 1666: but he might have been mistaken as to the exact year of his birth; however, the fact never was doubted, of his having been a private soldier in the army of King William, at the battle of the Boyne. It was also well known, that he was a private in some of the British regiments, which served under the great duke of Marlborough in Germany, about the year 1705. But at this period, Billy's military career in the service of his country ended. About this time he went to his command. ing officer, one of the M'Guffogs of Ruscoe, a very old family in Galloway, and asked him if he had any commands for his native country: Being asked, if there was any opportunity, he replied, yes; he was going to Keltonhill fair, having for some years made it a rule never to be absent. His officer knowing his man, thought it needless to take any very strong measure to hinder him; and Billy was at Keltonhill accordingly. Now Billy's destinies placed him in a high sphere; it was about this period, that, either electively, or by usurpation, he was placed at the head of that mighty people in the south west, whom he governed with equal prudence and talent for the long space of eighty or ninety years. Some of his admirers assert, that he was of royal ancestry, and that he succeeded by the laws of hereditary succession; but no regular annals of Billy's house were kept; and oral tradition and testimony weigh heavily against this assertion. From any research I have been able to make, I am strongly disposed to think, that, in this crisis of his life, Billy Marshal had been no better than Julius Cæsar, Richard III., Oliver Cromwell, Hyder Ally, or Napoleon Bonaparte: I do not mean to say, that he waded through as much blood as some of those, to seat himself on a throne, or to grasp at the diadem and sceptre; but it was shrewdly suspected, that Billy Marshal had stained his character and his hands with human blood: His predecessor died very suddenly, it never was suppo

sed by his own hand, and he was buried as privately about the foot of Cairnsmuir, Craig Nelder, or the Corse of Slakes; without the ceremony, or perhaps, more properly speaking, the benefit of a precognition being taken, or an inquest held by a coroner's jury. During this long reign, he and his followers were not outdone in their exploits, by any of the colonies of Kirk-Yetholm, Horncliff, Spital, or Lochmaben. The following anecdote will convey a pretty correct notion, of what kind of personage Billy was, in the evening of his life: as for his early days, I really know nothing more of them than what I have already told.

The writer of this, in the month of May 1789, had returned to Galloway after a long absence: He soon learned, that Billy Marshal, of whom he had heard so many tales in his childhood, was still in existence. Upon one occasion he went to Newton-Stewart, with the late Mr. McCulloch of Barholm and the late Mr. Hannay of Bargaly, to dine with Mr. Samuel M'Caul. Billy Marshal then lived at the hamlet or clachan of Polnure, a spot beautifully situated on the burn or stream of that name: We called on our old hero, he was at home, he never denied himself, and soon appeared; he walked slowly, but firmly towards the carriage, and asked Mr. Hannay, who was a warm friend of his, how he was?—Mr. Hannay asked if he knew who was in the carriage? he answered, that his eyes had failed him a gude dale;' but added, that he saw his friend Barholm, and that he could see a youth sitting betwixt them, whom he did not know. I was introduced, and had a gracious shake of his hand. He told me I was setting out in life, and admonished me, to tak care o' my han', and do naething to dishonor the gude stock o' folk that I was come o;' he added, that I was the fourth generation of us he had been acquaint wi'. Each of us paid a small pecuniary tribute of respect, I attempted to add to mine, but Barholm told me, that he had fully as much as would be put to a good use. We were returning the same way, betwixt ten and eleven at night, after spending a pleasant day, and taking a cheerful glass with our friend Mr. M'Caul; we were descending the beautifully wooded hills, above the picturesque Glen of Polnure, my two companions were napping,-the moon shone clear, and all nature was quiet, excepting Polnure burn, and the dwelling of Billy Marshal,-the postillion stopt, (in these parts the well known and well-liked Johnny Whürk,) and turning round with a voice which indicated terror, he said, 'Gude guide us, there's folk singing psalms in the wud!' My companions awoke and listened,-Barholm said, psalms, sure enough;' but Bargaly said, the Deil a-bit o' them are psalms.' We went on, and stopt again at the door of the old king: We then heard Billy go through a great many stanzas of a song, in such a way as convinced us that his memory and voice had, at any rate, not failed him; he was joined by a numerous and powerful chorus. It is quite needless to be so minute, as to give any account of the song which Billy sung; it will be enough to say, that my friend Barholm was completely wrong, in supposing it to be a psalm; it resembled in no particular, psalm, paraphrase, or hymn. We called him out again, he appeared much brisker than he was in the morning; we advised him to go to bed; but he replied, that he didna think he wad be muckle in his bed that night,—they had to tak the country in the morning (meaning, that they were to begin a ramble over the country,) and that they were just takin a wee drap drink to the health of our honours, wi' the lock siller we had gi’en them.' I shook hands with him for the last time, he then called him

6

self above one hundred and twenty years of age; he died about 1790. His great age never was disputed to the extent of more than three of four years: The oldest people in the country allowed the account to be correct. The great-grandmother of the writer of this article died at the advanced age of one hundred and four; her age was correctly known; she said, that Wull Marshal was a man when she was a bit callant, (provincially, in Galloway, a very young girl.) She had no doubt as to his being fifteen or sixteen years older than herself, and he survived her several years. His long reign, if not glorious, was in the main fortunate for himself and his people: Only one great calamity befel him and them, during that long space of time in which he held the reins of government. It may have been already suspected, that with Billy Marshal, ambition was a ruling passion; and this bane of human fortune, had stimulated in him a desire to extend his dominions, from the Brigg end of Dumfries to the Newton of Ayr, at a time when, he well knew, the Braes of Blen-Nap, and the Water of Doon, to be his western precinct. He reached the Newton of Ayr, which I believe is in Kyle; but there he was opposed, and compelled to recross the river, by a powerful body of tinkers from Argyle or Dumbarton: He said, in his bulletins, that they were supported by strong bodies of Irish sailors, and Kyle colliers: Billy had no artillery, but his cavalry and infantry suffered very severely. He was obliged to leave a great part of his baggage, provisions, and camp equipage, behind him; consisting of kettles, pots, pans, blankets, crockery, horns, pigs, poultry, &c. A large proportion of shelties, asses, and mules, were driven into the water and drowned; which occasioned a heavy loss, in creels, panniers, hampers, tinkers' tools, and cooking utensils; and although he was as well appointed, as to a medical staff, as such expeditions usually were, in addition to those who were missing, many died of their wounds: However, on reaching Maybole with his broken and dispirited troops, he was joined by a faithful ally from the county of Down; who, unlike other allies on such occasions, did not forsake him in his adversity. This junction enabled our hero to rally, and pursue in his turn: a pitched battle was again fought, somewhere about the Brigg of Doon or Alloway Kirk; when both sides, as is usual, claimed a victory; but, however this may have been, it is believed that this disaster, which happened A. D. 1712, had slaked the thirst of Billy's ambition: He was many years in recovering from the effects of this great political error; indeed it had nearly proved as fatal to the fortunes of Billy Marshal, as the ever memorable Russian campaign did to Napoleon Bonaparte, about the same year in the succeeding century.

It is usual for writers, to give the character along with the death of their prince or hero: I would like to be excused from the performance of any such task, as drawing the character of Billy Marshal; but it may be done in a few words, by saying, that he had from nature a strong mind, with a vigorous and active person; and that, either naturally, or by acquirement, he possessed every mental and personal quality, which was requisite for one who was placed in his high station, and who held sovereign power over his fellow creatures for so great a length of time: I would be glad if I could, with impartiality, close my account here, but it becomes my duty to add, that, (from expediency, it is believed, not from choice) with the exception of intemperate drinking, treachery, and ingratitude, he practised every crime which is incident to human

nature, those of the deepest dye, I am afraid, cannot with truth be included in the exception: In short, his people met with an irreparable loss in the death of their king and leader; but it never was alleged, that the moral world sustained any loss by the death of the man. L.

Edinburgh, May 26, 1817.

Marshal's gang had long held possession of a large cove or cavern in the high grounds of Cairnmuir, in Galloway, where they usually deposited their plunder, and sometimes resided, secure from the officers of the law, as no one durst venture to molest the tribe in that retired subterraneous situation. It happened that two Highland pipers, strangers to the country, were travelling that way; and falling in by chance with this cove, they entered it, to shelter themselves from the weather, and resolved to rest there during the night. They found pretty good quarters, but observed some very suspicious furniture in the cove, which indicated the profession and character of its absent inhabitants. They had not remained long, till they were alarmed by the voices of a numerous band advancing to its entrance. The pipers expected nothing but death from the ruthless gypsies. One of them, however, being a man of some presence of mind, called to his neighbour instantly to 'fill his bags,' (doing the same himself,) and to strike up a pibroch with all his might and main. Both pipes accordingly at once commenced a most tremendous onset, the cove with all its echoes pealing back the Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,' or such like. At this very unexpected and terrific reception,-the yelling of the bagpipes, issuing from the bowels of the earth, just at the moment the gypsies entered the cove,-Billy Marshall, with all his band, precipitately fled in the greatest consternation, and from that night never again would go near their favourite haunt, believing that the blasts they had heard proceeded from the devil or some of his agents. The pipers next morning prosecuted their journey in safety, carrying with them the spolia optima of the redoubted Billy and the clan Marshal.

Gleid-neckit Will.

The late Mr. Leck, minister of Yetholm, happened to be riding home one evening from a visit over in Northumberland, when finding himself like to be benighted, for the sake of a near cut, he struck into a wild solitary track, or drove road, across the fells, by a place called The Staw. In one of the derne places through which this path led him, there stood an old deserted shepherd's house, which, of course, was reputed to be haunted. The minister, though little apt to be alarmed by such reports, was however somewhat startled, on observing, as he approached close to the cottage, a grim visage' starting out past a windowclaith, or sort of curtain, which had been fastened up to supply the place of a door,-and also several dusky figures' skulking among the bourtree bushes that had once sheltered the shepherd's garden. Without leaving him any time for speculation, however, the knight of the curtain bolted forth upon him, and seizing his horse by the bridle, demanded his money. Mr. Leck, though it was now dusk, at once recognized the gruff voice and the great black burly head of his next door neighbour, Gleid-neckit Will, the gypsey chief." Dear me, William," said the minister in his usual quiet manner, "can this be you? Ye're surely no serious wi' me?-Ye wadna sae far wrang your ter for a good neighbour for the bit trifle I hae to gie, William?" Lord

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saif us, Mr. Leck!" said Will, quitting the rein, and lifting his hat with great respect, "whae wad hae thought o' meeting you out owre hereaway?-Ye needna gripe for ony siller to me-I wadna touch a plack o' your gear, nor a hair o' your head, for a' the gowd o' Tividale-I ken ye'll no do us na ill turn for this mistak-and I'll e'en see ye safe through the eirie Staw-it's no reckoned a very canny bit mair ways nor ane; but I wat weel ye'll no be feared for the dead, and I'll tak care o' the living.-Will accordingly gave his revered friend a safe convoy through the haunted pass, and, notwithstanding this ugly mistake, continued ever after an inoffensive and obliging neighbour to the minister, who on his part observed a prudent and inviolable secrecy on the subject of this rencounter during the life-time of Gleid-neckit Will.

ART. VII.-Notoria; or Miscellaneous Articles of Philosophy, Literature, and Politics.