There were two brothers in the north,
Lord William and Lord John,
And they would try a wrestling match,
So to the fields they've gone, gone, gone;
So to the fields they've gone.
They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
Till Lord John fell on the ground,
And a knife into Lord William's pocket
Gave him a deadly wound, wound, wound;
Gave him a deadly wound.
"Oh take me on your back, dear William," he said,
"And carry me to the burnie clear,
And wash my wound sae deep and dark,
Maybe 'twill bleed nae mair, mair, mair;
Maybe 'twill bleed nae mair."
He took him up upon his back,
An' carried him to the burnie clear,
But aye the mair he washed his wound
It aye did bleed the mair, mair, mair;
It aye did bleed the mair.
"Oh take me on your back, dear William," he said,
"And carry me to the kirkyard fair,
And dig a grave sae deep and dark,
And lay my body there, there, there;
And lay my body there."
"But what shall I say to my father dear,
When he says, 'Willie, what's become of John?'"
"Oh, tell him I am gone to Greenock town
To buy him a puncheon of rum, rum, rum;
To buy him a puncheon of rum."
"And what shall I say to my sister dear,
When she says, 'Willie, what's become of John?'"
"Oh, tell her I've gone to London town,
To buy her a marriage-gown, gown, gown;
To buy her a marriage-gown."
"But what shall I say to my grandmother dear,
When she says, 'Willie, what's become of John?'"
"Oh, tell her I'm in the kirkyard dark,
And that I'm dead and gone, gone, gone;
And that I'm dead and gone."
"The father, hearing the shot, leapt from his bed (being then in
the chamber of dais), to the south light, and, seeing his son and
servants all in a cluster, cried aloud to know the matter; but,
receiving no answer, he suspected some mischief, and thereupon flew
hastily down the stair, and went directly to the place where they
were, which the gentlemen observing, they advised the Master to
take him to a horse, until his father's passion and fury should be
over; which, at length, upon their earnest entreaty he did, taking
his direct way to Smeaton, where his lady-mother then lived, by
Smeaton Ford. The father being come upon the place, first hears the
lamentation of the servants, and then sees the sad spectacle of his
son, all bloody and breathless, with his head laid upon a cloak,
whereon he falls himself and cries aloud, 'My son, my son, dead or
alive? dead or alive?' embracing him all the time, which he continued
for some space, and thereby giving time for his eldest son to escape.
At length, finding no motion in his dear son, all in a fury he arises
and cries aloud, 'Where is that murderer? Who has done the deed?'
Staring wildly about, and missing the Master, he cries out 'Oh
heavens, and is it he? Must I be bereft of two sons in one day? Yes,
it must be so; and he shall have no other judge or executioner but
myself and these hands.' And with that immediately mounts his horse,
commanding two of his servants to attend him, making protestation in
the meantime that they should both go to the grave together. But God
was more merciful, for by this time the Master was past Smeaton Ford,
and before his father came that length, he was at Fallside House, out
of all danger....
"Coming now a little to himself, he (Lord Somerville) began much
to condemn this unwarrantable attempt of his upon second thoughts.
Before he came back, the sad object of his sorrow was removed to
the place of Drum, and the corpse decently handled by the ladies of
Edmonston, Woolmet, and Sheriffhall, near neighbours, for in less
than one hour the report went over all the country. Yea, before the
king rose from dinner, he had notice of it, being then in Holyrood
house, with the circumstance of the father's following the other son
with intention to kill him; for which the king within three days
thereafter (the Lord Somerville coming to wait upon his majesty),
reproved him by saying, 'he was a madman, that having lost one son by
so sudden an accident, should needs wilfully destroy another himself,
in whom, as he was certainly informed, there was neither malice nor
design, but a great misfortune, occasioned by unwary handling of the
pistol, which should have rather been a matter of regret and sorrow
to him, that the like had happened in his family, than that he should
have sought after revenge. Therefore he commanded him to send for
his eldest son, and be reconciled to him, for he knew he was a sober
youth, and the very thought of his misfortune would afflict him
enough, albeit he were not discountenanced by him.'"[26]
[26] _Memorie of the Somervilles_, vol. i. p. 466.
The Master never held up his head again, "and now, as formerly, by
his affable and obliging carriage, he had procured the epithet of
the Good Master of Somerville, so from henceforth he might have been
called the Sad and Sorrowful Brother; for it was observed from the
very moment of that unhappy accident, until his death, which fell out
about three years thereafter, he never enjoyed a comfortable hour,
but was still sad and melancholy."
In January 1592, the Master died from the effects of a fever, acting
on a low and broken spirit; and with him perished all the hope and
expectation of the house of Cowthally. Well might their ancient
retainer, as the corpse passed the outer gate, smite on his breast
and cry aloud, "This day the head is clean taken off the house of
Cowthally, as you would strike off the head of a sybba!"[27]
[27] _Cibolle_, a leek.
The extravagance of Gilbert, the succeeding Lord Somerville,
dissipated all the family property in Lanarkshire; and the lands of
Gilmerton and the Drum remained the sole possession of a family which
was now so poor that the head of it dropped his ancient title and
held it in abeyance.
The house of the Drum, which had been burnt soon after its
completion, then rebuilt in greater splendour, and again burnt in
1629, was left in a ruinous state till 1730-40, when James, the
thirteenth Lord Somerville, pulled it down, and built an entirely
new house, from Adam's designs. This Lord Somerville revived the
title and restored the fortunes of the family. He was assisted in
this by his own wise and prudent conduct, and by the advantages
he gained from two rich marriages. He was an ardent Hanoverian;
therefore, when in 1745 Prince Charles was holding his court at
Holyrood, with a strong army in possession of the capital, Lord
Somerville felt his position at the Drum, only four miles from
Edinburgh, was an unpleasant one.
One night, when the family were at supper, word was brought in that
the Highlanders were seen advancing up the avenue. All were in
consternation. The plate was instantly thrown out of the window into
the grass, which luckily was high; and Lady Somerville entrusted
a casket of diamonds to her step-daughter, Anne (afterwards Mrs.
Burges), with directions to conceal them. Miss Somerville ran out of
the house into the deer-park, and, making a hole at the root of a
tree, buried the diamonds, and crept back to the house unperceived.
In the meantime, Lord and Lady Somerville had locked themselves into
a closet in one of the garrets, and effectually concealed themselves.
The Highlanders, about forty in number, broke into the house, and,
not finding Lord Somerville, contented themselves with feasting on
whatever they could get in the kitchen and cellars, and then carried
off everything movable of any value. By this time a servant had
escaped to the village of Gilmerton, and roused the inhabitants, who
sallied forth to Lord Somerville's rescue. Half-way between the
village and the house they met the Highlanders. A bloody conflict
ensued, in which three of the former and five of the latter were
killed. It ended in the Highlanders relinquishing their booty and
beating a retreat. Next day the Prince, with his usual generosity,
and out of respect for Lord Somerville's high character, sent an
officer's guard to protect him.
Eight months later, when the royal cause was defeated and lost, Lady
Somerville bethought herself of her diamonds. Her step-daughter
readily undertook to restore them, but when she went into the park,
she found it by no means so easy a task as she expected. There were
hundreds of trees growing there, and in the hurry and agitation of
the moment, she had not observed exactly beneath which she had hidden
them. She was afraid to confide her difficulties to her father, and
did not think it advisable to trust in any of the servants. Finally
she told her brother, and night after night the two went into the
wood and hunted for the lost diamonds. At last, after much anxiety,
they came upon them lying safely in the earth, the casket having
completely mouldered away.[28]
[28] _The Bland Burges Papers._
In the year 1800, John, fifteenth Lord Somerville, sold the Drum
to Mr. More Nisbett, to whose family it now belongs. The house was
originally intended by Adams to have another wing; but the death of
James, Lord Somerville, putting an end to the works, the eastern wing
was never built.
We now leave the Drum on our right and proceed northwards on the main
road leading from Newbattle to Edinburgh. After passing through the
village of Gilmerton, we descend a long hill, and, looking over the
wall to our left, perceive the venerable sycamores and chestnuts, and
the high holly hedges, which hide the house of Moredun.
This place, which is of great antiquity, was originally known as
Goodtrees,--corrupted by the vulgar to Gutters,--and formed part
of the great Somerville property. During the minority of John,
fifth Lord Somerville, these lands were alienated by his uncle and
guardian, Sir John of Quathquan, who contrived to get a fresh grant
from James IV., and had them settled on himself and his heirs,
the Cambusnethan branch of the family. The story of how they were
recovered is a curious instance of how frequently designing persons
outwit themselves.
John, the third Laird of Cambusnethan, married, as his second wife,
Katherine Murray,[29] a beautiful and very ambitious woman, who had
been the latest of James V.'s many favourites. After his death, she
lived at Crichton Castle with her uncle, the Earl of Bothwell, till
her marriage in 1552. Her husband settled the lands of Goodtrees and
the rest of his property in Midlothian on her as a jointure, and on
her eldest son after her. Not content with this ample provision, she
coveted the lands of Cambusnethan also, though they were the rightful
inheritance of her step-son, James, the Laird with the Velvet Eye
(so called because, having lost an eye by a musket-shot, he ever
after wore a patch of black velvet). Determined to lose no chance of
ousting her step-son, she thought to secure the support of the head
of the family by proposing an alliance between Lord Somerville's
second daughter and her own son John. She accordingly went to
Cowthally, and unfolded her plans to Lord Somerville, showing him
the charters relating to the lands in Midlothian, which proved that
her son was at any rate heir to a very considerable property. Lord
Somerville asked for two days to consider the matter, and consulted
his cousin, John Maitland, the future Chancellor, who was then living
at Cowthally in a sort of honourable captivity. The latter told him
that the lady's proposal, as far as Cambusnethan was concerned, was a
very dishonourable one, and could bring no blessing with it, but that
it might be worth while to see the papers, as the Lothian lands alone
would be sufficient to make John Somerville a suitable son-in-law.
He offered to look the papers carefully over, which, having done, he
returned them to the Lady of Cambusnethan, who departed rejoicing,
and thinking that she had enlisted Lord Somerville on her side. He
and John Maitland escorted her four miles on her way, and then went
hunting.
[29] The Laird of Cambusnethan's first wife was the beautiful
Katherine Carmichael, the Captain of Crawfuird's daughter, whose
early love had been won by James V. By the king she was mother to
Lord John Stewart, Prior of Coldingham, and to Janet, Countess of
Argyle. The king stood godfather to her eldest son by the Laird of
Cambusnethan, who was called James after him, but was better known as
"the Laird with the Velvet Eye." The Laird of Cambusnethan's second
wife was of the family of Philiphaugh.
During the sport Maitland asked his cousin, as if in joke, whether
the lands of Gilmerton, Goodtrees, and the Drum had not once belonged
to the elder branch of the family, and what he would bestow on
the person who would show him the way to recover them. To this
Lord Somerville said, smiling, "_Cousin, the bargain should soon
be made, if once I saw the man that made the offer_." Whereupon
Maitland informed him that, on going over the papers, he had found
informalities in the deed of gift, which made the whole transaction
void, and he showed Lord Somerville a copy he had made of the paper.
He craved as his reward the white horse Lord Somerville was riding.
This the latter gladly gave him, together with a silk and silver
purse full of gold pieces. The purse was a much-treasured relic,
having been made by Lord Somerville's mother, Janet Maitland.
Lord Somerville and Maitland at once proceeded to Edinburgh, where
the former commenced a plea to recover the lands; but it was not
till eight years later (in 1578), that it was finally decided in
favour of Hugh, the succeeding Lord Somerville. It would not have
been settled then, had not Lord Somerville, aware of Morton's
avaricious nature, gone himself to the Regent to crave that his plea
might be heard in the Inner House, to which opposition had hitherto
been made by Cambusnethan and his party. On leaving the room, Lord
Somerville drew out his purse, as if to take a piece of money for
the door-keeper, and left it lying negligently on the table. He went
quickly down-stairs, and took no notice of the Regent's crying,
"My lord, you have forgotten your purse!" By the time he came to
the outer porch, one of Morton's attendants overtook him, saying
the Regent desired he would return and breakfast with him. Lord
Somerville knew his cause was as good as won, and so it proved;
for, having been called and debated on, judgment was given in his
favour on the 11th May 1578, and the lands in Midlothian returned
to the head of the family, after having been for fourscore years in
possession of the younger branch.
Goodtrees shared the fate of most of the Somerville property, and was
sold in the 17th century. For many years it belonged to the Stewarts
of Coltness. Sir James Stewart, the celebrated writer on political
economy, was born here in 1713. His faithful devotion to the exiled
royal family cost him many years in a foreign land (he being one of
those who was excepted in the Act of Indemnity); and it was not till
1767 that he returned home, and soon afterwards obtained a complete
pardon. Goodtrees next passed into the Moncrieff family, and early
this century was bought by Mr. Anderson. By this time its name had
been changed to Moredun, which it still retains.
In the field to our right there is a very curious cave which runs
parallel with the road. It was dug out of the soft sandstone rock in
the last century by a man named George Paterson. He finished it in
1724, after five years' hard work, and it formed a complete dwelling
with several apartments. Paterson lived there with his family for
several years, and pursued there his calling as a blacksmith. He died
in it about the year 1735, and since then it has been preserved and
visited as a curiosity. The following inscription was made on it by
Pennycuick the poet:--
Upon the earth thrives villainy and woe,
But happiness and I do dwell below;
My hands hew'd out this rock into a cell,
Wherein, from din of life, I safely dwell.
On Jacob's pillow nightly lies my head;
My house when living, and my grave when dead.
Inscribe upon it when I'm dead and gone,
I liv'd and died within my mother's womb!
The little hamlet of Stennis or Stenhouse lies away to the left
of us, concealed in the wooded hollow at the bottom of the hill.
The road which leads to it diverges to the left after we cross the
Burdiehouse burn. We mount the slope beyond, and find a beautiful and
wide-stretching view spread out before us. To our right is Kingston
Grange, which used to be called Sunnyside, when it belonged to the
Inglis of Cramond; before that, it was called Craigs. When the late
Mr. Hay of Duns Castle bought this place, he changed its name to
its present one, in honour of his illustrious ancestor, Viscount
Kingston, whose branch of the Seton family he represented. Within the
last two years Kingston Grange has been bought by Mr. Gordon Gilmour,
and thrown into the Inch property.
[Illustration: _The Inch._]
We are now fast nearing the end of to-day's walk, and the last
interesting spot that we pass is the Inch. The gate is near the
bottom of the hill, and a winding drive leads to the curious old
house. As its name denotes, it was formerly an island rising out of
the lake, which in old days filled the whole of the low ground now
drained by the Braid Burn. It used to be called "The King's Inch,"
and a room at the top of the house is still known as "The King's
Room." Like many other old Scotch houses, it has the reputation of
being haunted; though of late years, at any late, nothing ghostly has
been seen. The oldest date on the house is 1617, and the initials
of the Winram family, to whom it formerly belonged, are over some
of the windows. They were a loyal and gallant race, descended from
the Winrams of Woolston, or Wiston, in Clydesdale, and, though now
extinct, in old days they held great possessions. The Inch, Nether
Liberton, and part of Upper Liberton called them lord. They appear
to have succeeded the Forresters of Corstorphine in the barony of
Nether Liberton, and to have also acquired lands from the monks
of Holyrood, who in remote times possessed a mill here. George
Winram, a Lord of Session, under the title of Lord Liberton, was an
adherent of Montrose's. He was also one of the Commissioners sent by
the Scottish Parliament in 1649 to Charles II. in Holland; and in
1650 he returned, bearing letters from the king to the Parliament
and the General Assembly, prior to his coronation in Scotland. His
son, Colonel Winram, was lieutenant-governor of Edinburgh Castle,
under the Duke of Gordon, during the protracted siege it underwent
in 1688-89. It was to him that Lord Dundee wished its defence
entrusted, when he urged the Duke to repair to the Highlands. On the
capitulation of the Castle, Colonel Winram was kept a close prisoner
for some time, in spite of the terms of surrender. After him, we hear
no more of the family.
The Inch was acquired by the Gilmours in 1660, the same year in
which they bought Craigmillar; and by the marriage in the last
century of the daughter of Sir Alexander Gilmour with William Little
of Liberton, these adjoining properties were eventually united,
and now belong to the representative of both families, Mr. Gordon
Gilmour of the Grenadier Guards. An addition was made to the house
at the beginning of this century, when several carved and lettered
stones were inserted in the walls, which had formed part of the town
house of the Little family in Liberton Wynd. It had been pulled
down to make way for George IV. Bridge. At the north-east corner of
the park, at the place still called the Bridgend, there formerly
stood a little hunting-chapel, built by James V. in 1502. It has
completely disappeared. In the Inch itself are some interesting
sporting pictures, brought here by the late Mr. Little Gilmour. He
died in 1887, the last survivor of the old Melton set, but from the
dining-room walls still look down the portraits of "Vingt-un," and
other celebrities of the palmy days of Leicestershire.