Stern Claud replied, with darkening face, No more the warrior shalt thou see. The war-worn soldier turned him home. And peaceful nursed her new-born child. "What sheeted phantom wanders wild, Where mountain Eske through woodland flows, "The wildered traveller sees her glide, And half unsheathed his Arran brand. Lord Claud Hamilton, second son of the duke of Chatelherault, and commendator of the abbey of Paisley, acted a distinguished part during the troubles of Queen Mary's reign, and remained unalterably attached to the cause of that unfortunate princess. He led the van of her army at the fatal battle of Langside, and was one of the commanders at the Raid of Stirling, which had so nearly given complete success to the queen's faction. He was ancestor of the present marquis of Abercorn. This barony, stretching along the banks of the Eske, near Auchendinny, belonged to Bothwellhaugh, in right of his wife. The ruins of the mansion, from whence she was expelled in the brutal manner which occasioned her death, are still to be seen in a hollow glen beside the river. Popular report tenants them with the restless ghost of the Lady Bothwellhaugh; whom, however, it confounds with Lady Anne Bothwell, whose Lament is so popular. This spectre is so tenacious of her rights that, a part of the stones of the ancient edifice having been employed in building or repairing the present Woodhouselee, she has deemed it a part of her privilege to haunt that house also; and, even of very late years, has excited considerable disturbance and terror among the domestics. This is a more remarkable vindication of the rights of ghosts, as the present Woodhouselee, which gives his title to the Honourable Alexander Fraser Tytler, a senator of the College of Justice, is situated on the slope of the Pentland hills, distant at least four miles from her proper abode. She always appears in white, and with her child in her arms. But who, o'er bush, o'er stream, and rock, Whose cheek is pale, whose eyeballs glare, From gory selle, and reeling steed, To drink a tyrant's dying groan. And smiled, the traitorous pomp to see. "With hackbut bent, my secret stand "Dark Morton," girt with many a spear, ⚫ Saddle. A word used by Spenser, and other old authors. t I. e. Gun cocked. The carbine with which the regent was shot is preserved at Hamilton Palace. It is a brass piece, of a middling length, very small in the bore, and what is rather extraordinary, appears to have been rifled or indented in the barrel. It had a matchlock, for which a modern firelock has been injudiciously substituted. " Of this noted person it is enough to say, that he was active in the murder of David Rizzio, and at least privy to that of Darnley. This clan of Lennox Highlanders were attached to the regcnt. Murray. "Glencairn and stout Parkhead were nigh, "What joy the raptured youth can feel, The wolf, by whom his infant fell! To see in dust proud Murray roll; "My Margaret's spectre glided near; The earl of Glencairn was a steady adherent of the regent. George Douglas of Parkhead was a natural brother of the earl of Morton, whose horse was killed by the same ball by which Murray fell. * Lord Lindsay, of the Byres, was the most ferocious and brutal of the regent's faction, and, as such, was employed to extort Mary's signature to the deed of resignation presented to her in Lochleven Castle. He discharged his commission with the most savage rigour; and it is even said, that when the weeping captive, in the act of signing, averted her eyes from the fatal deed, he pinched her arm with the grasp of his iron glove. y Not only had the regent notice of the intended attempt upon his life, but even of the very house from which it was threatened. With that infatuation at which men wonder after such events have happened, he deemed it would be a sufficient precaution to ride briskly past the dangerous spot. But even this was prevented by the crowd: so that Bothwellhaugh had time to take a deliberate aim.-Spottiswoode, p. 233. Buchanan. "Then speed thee, noble Chatlerault! Loud bugles join their wild acclaim- The glimmering spears are seen no more; Or sink in Evan's lonely roar. For the loud bugle, pealing high, The blackbird whistles down the vale, The bannered towers of Evandale. For chiefs, intent on bloody deed, On the fair banks of Evandale ! THE GREY BROTHER. A FRAGMENT. THE tradition, upon which the tale is founded, regards a house upon the barony of Gilmerton, near Lasswade, in MidLothian. This building, now called Gilmerton Grange, was formerly named Burndale, from the following tragic adventure:-The barony of Gilmerton belonged, of yore, to a gentleman named Heron, who had one beautiful daughter. This young lady was seduced by the abbot of Newbottle, a richly-endowed abbey, upon the banks of the South Eske, now a seat of the marquis of Lothian. Heron came to the knowledge of this circumstance, and learned, also, that the lovers carried on their guilty intercourse by the contrivance of the lady's nurse, who lived at this house of Gilmerton Grange, or Burndale. He formed a resolution of bloody vengeance, undeterred by the supposed sanctity of the clerical character, or by the stronger claims of natural affection. Choosing, therefore, a dark and windy night, when the objects of his vengeance were engaged in a stolen interview, he set fire to a stack of dried thorns and other combus tibles, which he had caused to be piled against the house, and reduced to a pile of glowing ashes the dwelling, with all its inmates. The scene with which the ballad opens, was suggested by a curious passage in the life of Alexander Peden, one of the wandering and persecuted teachers of the sect of Cameronians, during the reign of Charles II. and that of his successor James II. THE Pope he was saying the high, high mass, All on Saint Peter's day, With the power to him given, by the saints in heaven, The Pope he was saying the blessed mass, And from each man's soul his sins did pass, And all among the crowded throng, While through vaulted roof, and aisles aloof, At the holiest word, he quivered for fear, And, when he would the chalice rear, "The breath of one, of evil deed, He has no portion in our creed, "A being, whom no blessed word A wretch, at whose approach abhorred, "Up, up, unhappy! haste, arise! I charge thee not to stop my voice, Amid them all a Pilgrim kneeled, Far journeying from his native field, For forty days and nights so drear, And, save with bread and water clear, Amid the penitential flock, Seemed none more bent to pray; |