#A.# ‘Lord Maxwell’s Last Goodnight,’ communicated to Percy by G.
Paton, 1778.
#B.# ‘Lord Maxwell’s Goodnight,’ Glenriddell MSS, XI, 18, 1791,
Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 194, 1802; II, 133, 1833.
First published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, “from a copy
in Glenriddell’s MS., with some slight variations from tradition.” I
understand this to mean, not that the variations were derived from
tradition, but that the text of the Minstrelsy departs somewhat from
that of the manuscript.
#A# and #B# agree entirely as to matter. The order of the stanzas, not
being governed by an explicit story, might be expected to vary with
every reciter.
In the year 1585, John, Lord Maxwell, having incurred the enmity of the
king’s favorite, the Earl of Arran, was denounced rebel, on such charges
as were always at hand, and a commission was given to the Laird of
Johnstone to pursue and take him. A hired force, by the aid of which
this was expected to be done, was badly routed by the Maxwells in a
sharp fight. Johnstone made a raid on Maxwell’s lands; Maxwell burnt
Johnstone’s house. Finally, in one of their skirmishes, Johnstone was
captured: “the grief of this overthrow gave Johnstone, shortly after he
was liberated, his death.”
After some years of feud, the two chiefs, “by the industry of certain
wise gentlemen of the Johnstones,” surprised all Scotland by making a
treaty of peace. On April 1, 1592, they entered into a bond to forget
and forgive all rancor and malice of the past, and to live in amity,
themselves and their friends, in all time coming. A little more than a
year after, a party of Johnstones, relying, no doubt, on the forbearance
of their new ally, then warden of the West Marches, “rode a stealing” in
the lands of Lord Sanquhar and of the knights of Drumlanrig, Lag, and
Closeburn, carried off a large booty, and killed eighteen men who
endeavored to retrieve their property. (See No 184, ‘The Lads of
Wamphray.’) The injured gentlemen made complaint to Maxwell as warden,
and also procured a commission directing him to proceed against the
Johnstones. Maxwell was in an awkward plight. To induce him to take
action, several of the sufferers engaged to enter into a bond of
manrent, or homage, to Maxwell, by which they should be obliged to
service and he to protection. “Maxwell, thinking this to be a good
occasion for bringing all Nithsdale to depend upon him, embraced the
offer.” But this bond, through negligence, came to the hands of
Johnstone, who, seeing what turn matters would take, made a league with
Scotts, Eliots, and others, and in a battle at Dryfe Sands, by superior
strategy, defeated Maxwell, though the warden had much larger numbers.
This was in December, 1593. “The Lord Maxwell, a tall man and heavy in
armor, was in the chase overtaken and stricken from his horse. The
report went that he called to Johnstone and desired to be taken as he
had sometime taken his father, but was unmercifully used, and the hand
that he reached forth cut off. But of this,” says Spotiswood, “I can
affirm nothing. There always the Lord Maxwell fell, having received many
wounds.” Drumlanrig, Closeburn, and other of the Nithsdale lairds of
Maxwell’s faction, barely escaped with their lives.
Sir James Johnstone soon made his peace with the king, whose warden had
been slain while acting under royal authority. The heir of the slain
warden, John, the ninth Lord Maxwell, is said to have been only eight
years old at the time of his father’s death.[14] If this was so, he
became very early of age for all purposes of offence. The two clans kept
up a bloody and destructive private war. Both chiefs were imprisoned and
proclaimed rebel or traitor; Maxwell twice, first in 1601, as favoring
popery, and again in 1607, for his extravagant turbulence; and in each
case he made his own escape, the second time by the use of violence. At
length, influenced perhaps by a conviction that his defiance of the law
had gone too far for his safety, Maxwell seemed to be seriously disposed
to reconcile himself with his inveterate enemy.[15] Sir James Johnstone,
as it happened, had already asked Sir Robert Maxwell, who was his
brother-in-law and cousin to Lord Maxwell, to speak to his kinsman with
that view. Sir Robert had no wish to meddle, for his cousin, he said,
was a dangerous man to have to do with. Lord John, however,
spontaneously sent for Sir Robert, and said to him, You see my estate
and the danger I stand in. I would crave your counsel as a man that
tenders my weal. The result of much conference and writing (in which Sir
Robert Maxwell, evidently feeling imperfect confidence in his cousin,
acted with great caution) was that Lord Maxwell proposed a tryst with
Sir James Johnstone, each of them to be accompanied by one person only,
and no others to be present except Sir Robert, and faithfully promised,
with his hands between Sir Robert’s hands, that neither he nor the man
he should bring with him should do any wrong, “whether they agreed or
not.” Johnstone accepted the terms and made corresponding promises. The
meeting came off the 6th of April, 1608. Johnstone brought Willie
Johnstone with him, and Maxwell Charlie Maxwell, a man that Sir Robert
strongly disapproved, but his chief undertook to be answerable for him.
Sir Robert required the same guaranty on the part of Johnstone for his
follower, and these men were ordered to keep away from one another. The
two principals and their mediator between them rode off, with their
backs to their men, and began their parley. Looking round, Sir Robert
saw that Charlie Maxwell had left his appointed place and gone to Willie
Johnstone, at whom, after some words between them, he fired a pistol.
Sir Robert cried to Lord Maxwell, Fie, make not yourself a traitor and
me both! Lord Maxwell replied, I am blameless. Sir James Johnstone
slipped away to see to his follower’s safety. Lord Maxwell followed Sir
James, shot him in the back, and rode off.[16]
Lord Maxwell fled the country, but was tried in his absence and
sentenced to death, with forfeiture of his estates. He came back to
Scotland after four years, was basely betrayed into the power of the
government by a kinsman, and was beheaded at Edinburgh May 21, 1613.[17]
“Thus was finally ended,” remarks Sir Walter Scott, “by a salutary
example of severity, the ‘foul debate’ betwixt the Maxwells and
Johnstones, in the course of which each family lost two chieftains: one
dying of a broken heart, one in the field of battle, one by
assassination, and one by the sword of the executioner.”
#A# 1, 2, and _passim_. The very affectionate relations of Lord Maxwell
and his ‘lady and only joy,’ are a fiction of the ballad-maker. His wife
was daughter of the first Marquis of Hamilton. Maxwell instituted a
process of divorce against her, and she died while this was pending,
before he fled the country in 1608. By his treatment of his wife he made
her brother, the second marquis, and the Hamiltons generally, his
enemies.[18]
5, 6. Carlaverock castle had from far back belonged to the Maxwells, and
is theirs still. They had a house, or castle, at Dumfries, and the
custody of the “houses” of Lochmaben, Langholm, and Thrieve.
9, 10. Douglas of Drumlanrig, Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, and Grierson of
Lag fled in the _sauve qui peut_ of Dryfe Sands, and the partisans of
Lord Maxwell, who there lost his life, would naturally describe them as
deserting their chief. They (or two of them) had entered into a “band”
with Maxwell, as aforesaid. The ballad-maker seems to intimate that they
were in a band with each other, or with somebody, to betray Maxwell.
11, and #B# 1. ‘Robin in the Orchet,’ ‘Robert of Oarchyardtoan,’ is
properly Sir Robert Maxwell of Orchardton, Lord John’s cousin, but it is
evident, from the conjunction of mother and sisters, that the person
here intended is his brother Robert, to whom, some years after the
execution and forfeiture of Lord John, the estates were restored.
14. Maxwell’s wife, as said above, was no longer living. The “offers”
which he made, to save his life, contain a proposal that he should marry
the slain Sir James Johnstone’s daughter, without any dowry.
“Goodnight” is to be taken loosely as a farewell. Other cases are ‘John
Armstrong’s last Goodnight,’ and the well-known beautiful fragment (?)
of two stanzas called ‘Armstrong’s Goodnight;’ again, Essex’s last
Goodnight, to the tune of The King’s last Goodnight, Chappell, Roxburghe
Ballads, I, 570, and Popular Music, p. 174. The Earl of Derby sings a
Goodnight (though the name is not used) in ‘Flodden Field,’ No 168, III,
356, stanzas 36–58. Justice Shallow sang those tunes that he heard the
carmen whistle, and sware they were his Fancies, or his Good-nights:
Second Part of Henry IV, III, 2. Lord Byron, in the preface to Childe
Harold’s Pilgrimage, says “the good-night in the beginning of the first
canto was suggested by Lord Maxwell’s Goodnight in the Border
Minstrelsy.”
* * * * *
A
Communicated to Percy by G. Paton, Edinburgh, December 4, 1778.
1
‘Good lord of the land, will you stay thane
About my faither’s house,
And walk into these gardines green,
In my arms I’ll the embraice.
2
‘Ten thousand times I’ll kiss thy face;
Make sport, and let’s be mery:’
‘I thank you, lady, fore your kindness;
Trust me, I may not stay with the.
3 ‘For I have kil’d the laird Johnston;
I vallow not the feed;
My wiked heart did still incline;
He was my faither’s dead.
4
‘Both night and day I did proced,
And a’ on him revainged to be;
But now have I gotten what I long sowght,
Trust me, I may not stay with the.
5
‘Adue, Dumfriese, that proper place!
Fair well, Carlaurike faire!
Adue the castle of the Trive,
And all my biddings there!
6
‘Adue, Lochmaben gaits so faire,
And the Langhm shank, where birks bobs bony!
Adue, my leady and only joy!
Trust me, I may not stay with the.
7
‘Adue, fair Eskdale, up and doun,
Wher my poor frends do duell!
The bangisters will beat them doun,
And will them sore compell.
8
‘I’ll reveinge the cause mysell,
Again when I come over the sea;
Adue, my leady and only joy!
Fore, trust me, I may not stay with the.
9
‘Adue, Dumlanark! fals was ay,
And Closburn! in a band;
The laird of the Lag from my faither fled
When the Jhohnstones struek of his hand.
10
‘They wer three brethren in a band;
I pray they may never be merry;
Adue, my leady and only joy!
Trust me, I may not stay with the.
11
‘Adue, madam my mother dear,
But and my sister[s] two!
Fair well, Robin in the Orchet!
Fore the my heart is wo.
12
‘Adue, the lillie, and fair well, rose,
And the primros, spreads fair and bony!
Adue, my leady and only joy!
Fore, trust me, I may not stay with the.’
13
He took out a good gold ring,
Where at hang sygnets three:
‘Take thou that, my own kind thing,
And ay have mind of me.
14
‘Do not mary another lord
Agan or I come over the sea;
Adue, my leady and only joy!
For, trust me, I may not stay with the.’
15
The wind was fair, and the ship was clare,
And the good lord went away;
The most part of his frends was there,
Giving him a fair convoy.
16
They drank the wine, they did not spare,
Presentting in that good lord’s sight;
Now he is over the floods so gray;
Lord Maxwell has te’n his last good-night.
* * * * *
B
Glenriddell MSS, XI, 18. 1791.
1
‘Adiew, madam my mother dear,
But and my sisters two!
Adiew, fair Robert of Oarchyardtoan!
For thee my heart is woe.
2
‘Adiew, the lilly and the rose,
The primrose, sweet to see!
Adiew, my lady and only joy!
For I manna stay with thee.
3
‘Tho I have killed the laird Johnston,
What care I for his feed?
My noble mind dis still incline;
He was my father’s dead.
4
‘Both night and day I laboured oft
Of him revenged to be,
And now I’ve got what I long sought;
But I manna stay with thee.
5
‘Adiew, Drumlanrig! false was ay,
And Cloesburn! in a band,
Where the laird of Lagg fra my father fled
When the Johnston struck off his hand.
6
‘They were three brethren in a band;
Joy may they never see!
But now I’ve got what I long sought,
And I maunna stay with thee.
7
‘Adiew, Dumfries, my proper place,
But and Carlaverock fair,
Adiew, the castle of the Thrieve,
And all my buildings there!
8
‘Adiew, Lochmaben’s gates so fair,
The Langholm shank, where birks they be!
Adiew, my lady and only joy!
And, trust me, I maunna stay with thee.
9
‘Adiew, fair Eskdale, up and down,
Where my poor friends do dwell!
The bangisters will ding them down,
And will them sore compel.
10
‘But I’ll revenge that feed mysell
When I come ou’r the sea;
Adiew, my lady and only joy!
For I maunna stay with thee.’
11
‘Lord of the land, will you go then
Unto my father’s place,
And walk into their gardens green,
And I will you embrace.
12
‘Ten thousand times I’ll kiss your face,
And sport, and make you merry;’
‘I thank thee, my lady, for thy kindness,
But, trust me, I maunna stay with thee.’
13
Then he took off a great gold ring,
Where at hang signets three:
‘Hae, take thee that, my ain dear thing,
And still hae mind of me.
14
‘But if thow marry another lord
Ere I come ou’r the sea—
Adiew, my lady and only joy!
For I maunna stay with thee.’
15
The wind was fair, the ship was close,
That good lord went away,
And most part of his friends were there,
To give him a fair convay.
16
They drank thair wine, they did not spare,
Even in the good lord’s sight;
Now he is oer the floods so gray,
And Lord Maxwell has taen his good-night.
* * * * *
#A.#
1^2. faither’s place? _So_ #B#.
4^2. And a’ to be revainged on him. _Cf._ #B#.