=The Romances.=
MATCH OF ARCHERY AT ASHBY.
“IVANHOE.”
The match in which the yeoman Locksley overcomes all the antagonists
whom Prince John brings up against him, finds a parallel, and indeed we
may say foundation, in the ballad of “Adam Bell, Clym o’ the Cleugh,
and William of Cloudeslea.” The story of the ballad bears, that these
three “perilous outlaws,” having wrought great devastation among the
“foresters of the fee” and liege burghers of Carlisle, while in the act
of rescuing one of their companions from prison, “fure up to London
Town” to crave of their Sovereign a charter of peace. This, by the
intercession of the Queen, he grants them; but no sooner is the royal
word passed for their pardon, than messengers arrive from the “North
Countrye,” with the tidings of the deadly havoc. The King happens to
be quietly engaged in eating his dinner at the time, and is completely
thunderstruck at the intelligence, so that,—
“Take up the table,” then said he,
“For I can eat no mo’.”
He straightway assures the three offenders, that if they do not prevail
over every one of his own bowmen, their lives shall be forfeited.
“Then they all bent their good yew bows,
_Looked that their strings were rownd_,
And twice or thrice they shot their shafts
Full deftly in that stound.
“Then out spoke William of Cloudeslea,
‘By him that for me died,
I hold him not a good archer
That shoots at butt so wide.’
“‘Whereat, I crave,’ then said the King,
‘That thou wilt tell to me?’
‘At such a butt, sire, as we wont
To use in our countrye.’
“Then William, with his brethren twain,
Stept forth upon the green,
And there set up two hazel rods,
Twenty score pace between.”
The reader will recollect that Locksley upbraids his adversary, after
his unsuccessful shot, for not having made an allowance for the
pressure of the breeze. Cloudeslea gives a caution to the spectators no
less minute:
“He prayed the people that were there
That they would all still stand;
‘He that for such a wager shoots,
Has need of steady hand;’”
and, having chosen a “bearing flane,” splits the wand.
KENILWORTH CASTLE.
“KENILWORTH.”
KENILWORTH CASTLE was in former times one of the most magnificent piles
in England. In the days of its prosperity it took a military part, and
it still retains traces of a warlike character,—though the foliage
which overspreads its remains, has softened down the ruins into the
appearance of a peaceful mansion. It was first destroyed by Cromwell,
in revenge of its possessor having favoured the royal cause. Since then
it has been gradually decaying, and another century will probably bring
it to the ground.
History mentions Kenilworth so early as the reign of Henry I. At that
time it was private property, but afterwards fell into the hands of
the Crown, in which it continued till Elizabeth bestowed it upon her
favourite, Leicester. This nobleman, profuse and extravagant to the
last degree, is said to have expended upon it no less than £60,000.
One of the most remarkable events in the history of this castle is
the entertainment given by the latter proprietor to Elizabeth, which
forms the groundwork of the beautiful romance of “Kenilworth.” The
traditionary recollection of this grand festivity still lives in the
country, such having been the impression made upon the minds of the
country people by the grandeur of the occasion, that, in a lapse of 250
years, it has not decayed in their remembrance. The following is an
account, given by an eye-witness, of her Majesty’s reception:—
“On the 9th of July, 1575, in the evening, the Queen approached the
first gate of the castle. The porter, a man tall in person, and of
stern countenance, with a club and keys, accosted her Majesty in a
rough speech, full of passion, in metre, aptly made for the purpose,
and demanded the cause of all this din, and noise, and reeling about,
within the charge of his office. But upon seeing the Queen, as if he
had been struck instantaneously, and pierced, at the presence of a
personage so evidently expressing heroical sovereignty, he fell down on
his knees, humbly prays pardon for his ignorance, yields up his club
and keys, and proclaims open gates and free passage to all.
“Immediately the trumpeters, who stood on the wall, being six in
number, each eight feet high, with their silvery trumpets of five feet
long, sounded up a tune of welcome.
“Those harmonious blasters maintained their delectable music while the
Queen rode through the tilt-yard to the grand entrance of the castle,
which was washed by the lake.
“As she passed, a movable island approached, on which sat the Lady of
the Lake, who offered up her dominion to her Majesty, which she had
held since the days of King Arthur.
“This scene ended by a delectable harmony of hautbois, shalms, cornets,
with other loud musical instruments, playing while her Majesty passed
into the castle gate.
“When she entered the castle, a new scene was presented to
her.—Several of the heathen gods brought their gifts before
her—Sylvanus, god of the woods, Pomona with fruit, Ceres with corn,
Bacchus with grapes, Neptune with his trident, Mars with his arms,
Apollo with musical instruments,—all presented themselves to welcome
her Majesty in this singular place. An inscription over the gate
explained the whole.
“Her Majesty was graciously pleased to accept the gifts of these
divinities, when was struck up a concert of flutes and other soft
music. When, alighting from her palfrey, she was conveyed into her
chamber, when her arrival was announced through the country by a peal
of cannon from the ramparts, and fireworks at night.”
Here the Queen was entertained for nineteen days, at an expense of
£1000 a day. The Queen’s genius seems to have been greatly consulted
in the pomp and solemnity of the whole, to which some have added the
entertainment of bear-baiting, etc.
The great clock was stopped during her Majesty’s continuance in the
castle, as if time had stood still, waiting on the Queen, and seeing
her subjects enjoy themselves.
DAVID RAMSAY.
“NIGEL.”
“In the year 1634, Davy Ramsay, his Majesty’s clockmaker, made an
attempt to discover a precious deposit supposed to be concealed in the
cloister of Westminster Abbey, but a violent storm of wind put a stop
to his operations.”—_Lilly’s Life_, p. 47. This Ramsay, according to
Osborne, in his _Traditional Memorials_, used to deliver money and
watches, to be recompensed, with profit, when King James should sit
on the King’s chair at Rome, so near did he apprehend (by astrology,
doubtless,) the downfall of the papal power. His son wrote several
books on astrological subjects, of which his _Astrologia Restaurata_
is very entertaining. In the preface he says that his father was of an
ancient Scottish family, viz. of Eighterhouse, (Auchterhouse,) “which
had flourished in great glory for 1500 years, till these latter days,”
and derives the clan from Egypt, (it is wonderful that the idea of
gipsies did not startle him,) where the word Ramsay signifies joy and
delight. But he is extremely indignant that the world should call his
father “no better than a watchmaker,” asserting that he was, in fact,
page of the bedchamber, groom of the privy chamber, and _keeper of all
his Majestie’s clocks and watches_. “Now, how this,” quoth he to the
reader, “should prove him a watchmaker, and no other, more than the
late Earles of Pembroke ordinary chamberlains, because they bore this
office in the King’s house, do thou judge.”—_Mr. Sharp’s Notes to
Law’s Memorialls._
THE REDGAUNTLET FAMILY.
“REDGAUNTLET.”
It is supposed that the characters, if not the fortunes, of the
Redgauntlet family, are founded upon those of the Griersons of Lagg.
This celebrated, or rather notorious family, is of considerable
antiquity in Galloway,[75]—a district abounding, to a greater degree
than either Wales or the Highlands of Scotland, in families of remote
origin and honourable descent. Grierson of Lagg was one of those
border barons, whose fame and wealth the politic James V. endeavoured
to impair, by lodging himself and his whole retinue upon them during
a progress, to the irreparable ruin of their numerous flocks, and the
alienation of their broad lands. The Grierson family never recovered
the ground then lost; and has continued, down even to the present
day, to struggle with many difficulties in supporting its dignity.
Sir Robert Grierson, grandfather of the present Laird, made himself
conspicuous in the reigns of the latter Stuarts, by the high hand which
he carried in persecuting the recusant people of his own districts, and
by the oppression which the spirit of those unhappy times empowered
him to exercise upon his tenants and immediate dependants. He was
but a youth when these unhappy transactions took place, and survived
the Restoration nearly fifty years. His death, which took place in
1736, was in the remembrance of people lately alive. Many strange
traditionary stories are told about him in Dumfriesshire, and, in
particular, the groundwork of “Wandering Willie’s Tale” is quite well
known and accredited among the common people thereabouts. The popular
account of his last illness, death, and burial, are exceedingly absurd
and amusing, and we willingly give them a place in our motley record.
Sir Robert Grierson died in the town of Dumfries. The house where this
memorable incident took place is still pointed out. It is now occupied
by a decent baker, and is a house of singular construction, having a
spiral or _turnpike_ stair, like the old houses of Edinburgh, on which
account it is termed _the Turnpike House_. It is at a distance of about
two hundred yards from the river Nith; and it is said that when Sir
Robert’s feet were in their torment of heat, and caused the cold water
in which they were placed to boil, relays of men were placed between
the house and the river, to run with pails of water to supply his
bath; and still, as one pail was handed in, the preceding one was at
the height of boiling-heat, and quite intolerable to the old Laird’s
unfortunate extremities. Sir Robert at length died, and was laid in a
hearse to be taken to the churchyard, which was some miles off. But, oh
the mysterious interferences of the evil one! though six stout horses
essayed their utmost might, they could not draw the wicked persecutor’s
body along; and there stood, fixed to the spot, as though they had been
yoked to the stedfast Criffel instead of an old family hearse! In this
emergency, when the funeral company were beginning to have their own
thoughts, Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, an old friend of the
Laird’s, happened to come up, with two beautiful Spanish horses, and,
seeing the distress they were in, swore an oath, and declared that he
would drive old Legg, though the devil were in him. So saying, he yoked
his Spanish barbs to the hearse, mounted the box himself, and drove
away at a gallop towards the place of interment. The horses ran with
such swiftness that their master could not restrain them, and they
stopped at the churchyard gate, not by any management or direction on
his part, but by some miraculous and supernatural agency. The company
came slowly up in the course of an hour thereafter, and Sir Robert
Grierson was, after all, properly interred, though not without the loss
of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick’s beautiful horses, which died in consequence
of their exertions.
* * * * *
The story of the Redgauntlet horse-shoe seems to have its foundation in
the following:—
“Major Weir’s mother appears to have set the example of witchcraft to
her children, as Jean Weir, while in prison, declared that ‘she was
persuaded that her mother was a witch; for the secretest thing that
either I myself, or any of the family, could do, when once a mark
appeared upon her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great
distance.’ Being demanded what sort of a mark it was, she answered,
‘I have some such like mark myself, when I please, upon my forehead.’
Whereupon she offered to uncover her head, for visible satisfaction.
The minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery,
was earnestly requested by some spectators to allow the freedom. He
yielded: she put back her head-dress, and, seeming to frown, there
was an exact horse-shoe, shaped for nails, in her wrinkles, terrific
enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder.”—_Sinclair’s Satan’s
Invisible World Discovered._
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] “The family of Grierson is descended from Gilbert, the second son
of Malcolm, Laird of M‘Gregor, who died in 1374. His son obtained a
charter from the Douglas family of the lands and barony of Lagg, in
Nithsdale, and Little Dalton, in Annandale; since which his descendants
have continued in Nithsdale, and married into the best families in that
part of the country, namely those of Lord Maxwell, the Kirkpatricks of
Closeburn, the Charterises of Amisfield, the Fergusons of Craigdarroch,
and of the Duke of Queensberry.”—_Grose’s Antiquities of Scotland._
* * * * *
[Transcriber’s Note—the following changes have been made to this text.
Frontispiece: SUBSEQUANTLY to SUBSEQUENTLY—“AND SUBSEQUENTLY BY”.
Page vi: BALDERSTON to BALDERSTONE—“(CALEB BALDERSTONE)”.
Page 6: stiil to still—“still continue to be”.
Page 17: dittograph “during during” corrected—“during the sermon”.
Page 31: boronet to baronet—“baronet of Orchardston”.
Page 56: imimmediately to immediately—“it was immediately opened”.
Page 58: Here to Her—“Her propensities”.
Page 93: Burley to Burly—“history of Burly”.
Page 118: nïaveté to naïveté—“marked by a naïveté”.
Page 120, note: Carpshearn to Carsphearn—“Semple, of Carsphearn.”
Page 136, note: Tripatiarchicon to Tripatriarchicon—“copy of the
Tripatriarchicon”.
Page 144: thefirst to the first—“the first intelligence”.
Page 147: Trament to Tranent—“Berwick to Tranent”.
Page 149, note: ca to ça—“_ça ira_”.
Page 182: decendants to descendants—“his descendants have continued”.]