Here away, there away, wandering Willie,
Here away, there away, haud away hame.
_Old Song._
We have now performed the waggoner's difficult and tedious task with
great patience, and scarcely less discretion, having brought all the
various groups of our _dramatis personae_, up to the same period of
time. It now behoves us (that is, Isaac the curate and me,) to return
again to the leading event, namely, the siege of Roxburgh.
The state of mind to which the two commanders were now reduced was
truly pitiable. Within the castle of Roxburgh, all was sullen gloom
and discontent. In one thing, and that only, were they unanimous,
which was in a frantic inveteracy against the Scots; and though
Musgrave, with the feelings of a man, would gladly have saved those
dearest to him in life, yet he found that to have proposed such a
thing as yielding to the garrison, would have been but adding fuel to
flame in order to extinguish it. Their small supply soon began again
to wear short; and, moreover, the privations to which they were
subjected, had brought on an infectious distemper among them, of which
some died every day; but every item added to their sufferings, fell
into the scale against the Scots, and all the cruelties exercised by
the latter, in order to break the spirits of their opponents, only
militated against themselves. Opposition to the last man was a
sentiment nursed in every English bosom within the garrison, with a
brooding enthusiasm of delight. There can be no doubt that they felt
intensely for their gallant captain, considering the dismal situation
in which he stood with respect to their enemies, and the strong hold
they had been enabled to keep over his heart. It was probably the
burning intensity of these feelings that was the great source of their
unhappiness, and gave rise to the fierce spirit of dissension that
daily manifested itself. Although they detested the deed the Scots
had committed in executing Sir Richard, yet they felt his death a sort
of relief, as by it one-half of the cord which their hated adversaries
held round the breast of their commander was broken, and there is
little doubt that they wished themselves free of Lady Jane Howard, by
fair and gentle means if possible, but at all events to be rid of that
remaining tie, which almost maddened them to think of
There was one circumstance which of late was to all of them wholly
unaccountable. As the day of the Conception of the blessed Virgin
approached, the mind of Lord Musgrave, instead of becoming altogether
deranged as they had foreboded, became more and more steady and
collected. He watched over every part of the economy within that huge
fortress, and gave his orders with punctuality and decision, although
with a degree of sternness that had not previously been observed.
The dreaded day of the Conception at length arrived; and, before noon,
crowds of the citizens, and people from the surrounding country, began
to assemble around the Scottish camp. These were forcibly kept beyond
the line of circumvallation, while the regular troops were drawn up in
columns both to the east and west of the fortress, and particularly
round the gibbet on the Bush-Law. At eleven o'clock the Scottish
trumpets sounded; the English soldiers crowded to the battlements
around the western tower of the citadel, and Lord Musgrave came up
among the rest, arrayed in a splendid suit of light armour, and
gallantly attended.
These battlements and the new gibbet were, as before stated, right
opposite to one another, and separated only by the breadth of the moat
and a very small slope on the western ascent; so that every object
could be distinctly seen from the one place to the other, and, by
raising the voice somewhat, a conversation could be carried on across.
At the very time that Lord Musgrave thus appeared on the wall, the
Lady Jane Howard and Sir _Richard_ Musgrave were introduced on the
boards of the gibbet. Yes,--read it over again. I say Sir Richard
Musgrave, for it was truly he. The Douglas, seeing that he could not
prevail, and that the gallant youth was given up by his brother and
the English to his fate, could not brook the idea of losing by his
death the one-half of the influence he held over Musgrave. But that he
might try it by stretching it to the very last, he clothed another
culprit in Sir Richard's habiliments, tied a white cloth over his
face, let him stand a proclaimed space on the boards with the cord
about his neck, and, at the last moment of the given time, there being
no parley sounded for the delivering up of the keys of the fortress,
the board sunk, and the man died; but Sir Richard was safe in hold.
He was again produced that day, being the eighth of December, along
with Lady Jane. He was dressed in the suit of armour in which he
fought on the day he was taken prisoner, and Lady Jane in pure
snow-white robes, betokening her spotless virginity. Sir Richard's eye
beamed with manly courage, but the fresh hues of the rose on the
cheeks of Lady Jane had blenched, and given place to the most deadly
paleness. Both hosts were deeply affected with the sight, and on this
occasion both felt alike. There was not a heart amongst them that did
not overflow with pity at the unhappy fate of the two youthful
prisoners, whose dismal doom could now no longer be averted, unless by
a sacrifice on the part of the English, with which even the most
sanguine of the beleaguering army doubted their compliance.
The Douglas then caused a herald to make proclamation in a stentorian
voice; first stating the cause why he had put off the execution of Sir
Richard Musgrave until that day, namely, his anxious desire to
save the life of the noble youth, on the ground that the purposed
holding out of the garrison till the twenty-fourth was a chimera;
and, secondly, declaring that, unless the keys of the castle were
previously delivered up to him, precisely at the hour of noon, the
noble and gallant Sir Richard, the flower of English chivalry, should
be put down; and the beautiful and accomplished Lady Jane Howard, the
betrothed bride and devoted lover of Lord Musgrave, subjected to a
fate the most humiliating, and the most deplorable, that ever noble
maiden suffered, and that in full view of both armies. A loud murmur
of detestation sounded from the walls of the castle, but the columns
of the Scottish army stood and looked on in mute and tender sorrow.
Lord Musgrave placed himself right opposite the prisoners, turned his
face straight toward them, and gazed with an unmoved and undaunted
air. Sir Richard addressed him in the same sentiments he had formerly
expressed, the purport of which was, it will be remembered, the
madness and folly of holding out the castle, now when the bright and
unequalled prize for which he contended was lost. For his own life, he
said, he accounted it as nothing in the scale; but the fate that
awaited the lady of his love, who had shewn such devotion to his
person and interests, was not to be endured or permitted by any knight
of honour. Lady Jane cried out to him to save her from a doom before
which her whole soul shrunk; adding, that she had done much, and
suffered much, for him, and would he not make one effort, one
sacrifice, to save her?
"Lord Douglas," cried Musgrave, "Will not a formal consignment of all
my lands, titles, and privileges in the dominions of England, ransom
the lives of these two?"
"Not if they were ten times doubled," returned the Douglas: "Nor shall
any earthly thing ransom them, save the full and free possession of
the castle of Roxburgh. I have myself suffered a loss at your hands,
of which you are not aware; and I long and thirst to revenge it on you
and your house."
"Then my resolution is fixed!" cried Musgrave: "Though all England
should deprecate the deed, and though I know my brethren in arms
disapprove of it, I must and will redeem the lives of these two. Yes,
I will save them, and that without abating one iota from the honour of
the house of Musgrave. Not make one effort, Lady Jane? Not one
sacrifice to save your honour and life? Effort, indeed, I will make
none. But, _without_ an effort, I will make a sacrifice of as high
estimation for you as ever knight offered up for the lady of his love.
Perhaps it may not be in my power to save you; but in the sight
of these rival armies,--in yours my only brother and betrothed
bride,--and in the sight of heaven,--I offer the last ransom that can
be offered by man." As he said these words, he flung himself headlong
from the battlement of the western tower, struck on the mural parapet
around the lower platform, then on the rampart, from which he flew
with a rolling bound, and flashed with prodigious force into the ample
moat. There, by the weight of his armour, he sunk forthwith to rise no
more. The troops of the rival nations stood aghast, with uplifted
hands, gazing on the scene; but no more was to be seen of the gallant
Musgrave! A gurgling boil of bloody water arose above him as he sank
to the bottom,--and that was the last movement caused in this world by
one whose life had been spent in deeds of high chivalry and restless
commotion.
Excepting one shriek uttered by Lady Jane, the Douglas was the first
to break the awful silence, which he did by these words: "There fell
a hero indeed! Noble and resolute Musgrave! I cannot but envy you such
a chivalrous fate as this!" Many such expressions of enthusiastic
admiration burst from both armies, not in shouts of applause, for
these were suppressed by sorrow, but in a low and melting pathos that
bespoke the soul's regret as well as approval.
When these first expressions of feeling were over, the dark and
manly countenance of Douglas sunk into more than usual gloom and
dejection. All the advantages given him, and which he had deemed
insurmountable by his opponents, were by this desperate act of
Musgrave's extinguished. He had now no more power over the English
garrison than what he could make good with his sword and his bow. To
have executed his threats on Sir Richard, and the lovely and romantic
Lady Jane, would only have been an act of poor and despicable revenge,
which would have disgusted his own followers, and could in no degree
have furthered his cause; so he ordered them back to confinement,
with directions that they should be attended according to their rank.
What was next to be done? That was the great question. Douglas never
once conceived the idea of giving up the enterprise; for though the
princess for whom he had undertaken it was now no more, his broad
domains were all engaged. The very existence of the house of Douglas
depended on his success; and, besides, the king had more daughters,
though none like his beloved and accomplished Margaret. Therefore
Douglas had no hesitation regarding the necessity of taking the
castle. He was determined to have it. But what to do next, in order to
accomplish this determination, was the question. Circumstances were
grievously changed with him. The garrison had got a supply across the
Teviot-bridge during the time of the flood and the tempest, but the
Scots could not ascertain to what amount. Sir Thomas Musgrave had been
joined by some troops from the shores of Northumberland, and had
issued forth with these and the greater part of the garrison of
Berwick, to the amount of 5000 men, in order to make a diversion in
favour of the garrison of Roxburgh. This movement by the governor of
Berwick disconcerted the Douglas most of all. A party of these
marauders had shewed themselves on the height about Hume castle, with
trumpets sounding and colours waving in the air. From thence they
marched on, keeping the backs of the hills, until they came into the
lower parts of Leaderdale, which they harried, burning in their way
the town and castle of Ercildon. They next made a movement towards
Melrose, meaning to establish themselves in the rear of Douglas, and
either to cut off his supplies, or force him to abandon the siege, in
order to preserve his own country behind him. But when they came to
the river Tweed they were opposed by the brave abbot Lawrence, not the
feigned and infernal abbot that our yeomen left at Aikwood, but the
real worthy and apostolic Lawrence himself. He had raised all the
abbey vassals and retainers, and shewed fairly disposed to dispute
the passage of the English over the river. In the meantime he posted
message after message to Douglas, to come, or send to his assistance,
before the abbey of the holy Virgin, with all its sacred stores,
should fall into the hands of their ruthless enemies.
Douglas was hardly put to it. If he drew off from a close blockade,
the English were sure to take advantage of his absence, make a sally,
and procure plenty of more provisions; and, in that case, his only
probable hope of success was cut off. On the other hand, if he
suffered himself to be inclosed between two armies, his situation
would become every day more precarious, and perhaps in the issue quite
untenable. He was, therefore, in a manner forced to the resolution of
making an effort to join father Lawrence, and of giving the captain of
Berwick battle before he attained possession of the rich monastry of
Melrose.
The time was now arrived when the support of Sir Ringan Redhough
and his borderers was become absolutely necessary. Without their
co-operation in a more close and decisive manner than that in which
they had hitherto conducted themselves, he could not now proceed one
foot, and his great cause was ruined. He therefore dispatched a
pressing message to the chief, conjuring him as his friend and
fellow-soldier, either to come and supply his place in the blockade of
Roxburgh, or march with all expedition to Melrose, and give battle to
the governor of Berwick. The dogged and unyielding Warden returned for
answer, that it had always been his chief and undivided aim to act in
concert with his noble and gallant friend, and lord superior, the Earl
of Douglas and Mar. But that he had a peculiar charge from his
Sovereign, of the English marches, which it was his bounden duty to
attend to, prior to all other considerations. Whatever he could do
conformable with this first duty, should not be wanting. Finally, he
sent him word, as he had done formerly, "that if he coudna take the
castle, and confessed that he coudna take it, he might send word to
him, and he wad take it for him."
"What does the crabbed carle always mean by that answer?" said the
Douglas, when it was reported to him: "Perhaps he has some means of
communication with those within the fortress, some secret friend
in disguise among our enemies. Perhaps he knows of some weak or
accessible point among these extensive bulwarks, or perhaps he reckons
on some plausible means of surmounting them; for the devil's head is
not more fruitful in expedients than his. This is a matter of such
importance to me at present, that I must try to probe it to the
bottom. Were I sure that he could accomplish his boasted feat, I had
better engage him to it with one-third of my dominions; and at all
events, I must procure the active assistance of his energetic force at
present, whatever may be the equivalent required. Let my white stead
Beaver be caparisoned, and my attendants in readiness; I must have an
interview with this man of the mountains before I sleep."
The Warden had drawn his force down to Wooller, with the intention of
co-operating more effectively with the Douglas. He had heard of the
advantages that lord held over his adversaries, but nothing of the
late catastrophe by which they were all removed. Deeming therefore
that the chances were mainly on the side of the Douglas, he judged it
his safest course to act in complete concert with him. Above all, the
words out of the black book of fate had been conveyed to him as read
by the greatest magician in the world. From all that could be made out
of that mystic rhyme, after long consultation, it appeared that it
behoved the Warden and his friends to go hand in hand with Douglas.
"Rise not against feudal union--No advance but in communion," were
words hardly to be misinterpreted. The words of the prophecy, and the
ludicrous metamorphosis were all taken into account, compared,
computed, and over again computed,--and the sequel was a decisive
resolution to support the Douglas and join issues with him. But, in
the meantime, _still to make the most of a bad bargain_.
This resolution had been taken, and so far acted upon, that trusty
agents had been despatched all over the country in disguise, to
execute a portion of the great concerted plan, when the Douglas, at a
late hour in the evening, arrived in the Warden's camp. He then had
proofs experimentally of the Warden's caution and vigilance. He came
upon his outposts at a great distance from the main body of his army.
These withstood his passage, but seeing his retinue so small, for he
was attended only by two knights, a squire, and a guide, they
conducted him from one post to another, till at length they brought
him completely guarded to the Warden's head-quarters; which was
nothing more than a lowly cottage at Wooller haugh-head.
The doughty chief and his kinsmen were still sitting in earnest
conversation round a rustic table, with a tremendous torch in the
middle of it. This was nothing less than a huge broken jar full of
refined ox's tallow, and a flow peat stuck to the head in the middle,
which being kindled emitted a blaze like a fish light. The gallant
kinsmen were in deep consultation anent their grand plan of warlike
operations, and the more they conversed about it the more eligible
did it still appear to them, and the more deeply did they get
interested in it; so that when the knight in waiting announced a
stranger who requested an interview with Sir Ringan, every one seemed
disposed to refuse him admission.
"Tell him I am engaged," said the Warden.
"O yes. By all means. Tell him we are engaged," said Dickie o'
Dryhope.
"If it is another message from the Douglas, I have had enough of him,"
said the Warden.
"Ay, faith, we have had enough of him," said Dickie.
"It is perhaps from Master Michael Scott'" said Yardbire: "Or maybe
himsel, wha kens. Lord sauff us!" "D'ye think sae?" said the Warden,
starting to his feet: "That would indeed alter the case!"
"Ay, that would alter the case indeed!" said Dickie, starting to his.
"Who is he? or what is he like?" enquired the Warden.
"Ay, that is the principal thing to be attended to," said Dickie;
"What is he like?"
"He is delivered as a knight of most noble bearing and courtly
deportment," answered the knight in waiting. "I suppose we must admit
him, and hear what he has to say," said the Warden, again taking his
seat.
"O yes. By all means. Let us hear what he has to say," said Dickie,
sitting down likewise.
As the courtly and athletic form of the Lord Douglas came up the
hovel, the Border gentlemen stood all up to receive him, save Sir
Ringan, who throwing himself back on his seat, leaned his chin on his
hand, and in that indifferent posture awaited till the quality of his
guest was made manifest. But no sooner did the voice of Douglas reach
his ear, than he rose up to salute and receive him with as much ease
as if he had been his daily visitor.
"You are hard of admission, noble Sir Ringan," said he, "thus to let
your friends wait at the door of your pavilion, after riding so far in
the dark to see you."
"I am chafed with visitors from both countries every hour of the day,
Lord Douglas; many of them coming with complaints which it is out of
my power to rectify. I have therefore a sly inquisition established
around me, that might haply give your Lordship some interruption. But
it was your own blame. Had you announced the name of Douglas, that
would have opened a lane for you from my farthest outpost to this
chair, which I request you to occupy, while I take my place here at
your right hand. You are welcome, noble Earl of Douglas and Mar, to
our rude habitation. There is no man more so, beneath our sovereign
lord the King. I give you and your attendants all kind welcome and
greeting."
"You are become as much an accomplished courtier among these wild
wastes as you were before an accomplished warrior, Sir Ringan," said
Douglas.
"I always make points of speaking as I am spoken to, drinking as I am
drunk to, and going to a battle when sent for," said the Warden. "H'm
h'm h'm," neighed Dickie o' Dryhope, screwing up his mouth on one
side like a shrew: "It is all true our Captain tells you, Lord
Douglas. That's his rule. Mh? mh? Mh? H'm h'm h'm." The Douglas cast
at Dickie a curious searching glance from his dark eye that was half
hid by a shaggy eyebrow; and then turning to Sir Ringan, replied, "I
am heartily glad of it, noble Baron of Mountcomyn, it having been for
that very purpose I sought this interview with you. Sir Ringan
Redhough, you must to battle with me to-morrow."
"With all my heart, my lord," was the reply.
"Come, that is as it should be. We'll no more of it. We _can_ have no
more of it," said Douglas: "Let us have a flaggon of your best wine to
drink success to our arms."
The wine was soon produced, with plenty of other good cheer, with
which the Warden's camp was then abundantly stored; and the two chiefs
conversed together with as much freedom, and as little apparent
jealousy with regard to rank or fame, as if they had been two
brothers. The Douglas delineated his affairs as in that posture in
which success could not fail him; at the same time he admitted the
ticklish situation in which he stood, owing to the diversion made by
the captain of Berwick, and that without an instant effort he would be
inclosed between two fires. Sir Ringan answered, that he had heard of
the incursion, and therefore he had drawn his troops down from the
dales of Northumberland to support his friend and firm ally in any
case of necessity; and he concluded by boldly proffering either to
supply the Douglas's place in the blockade, or march to the west, and
hold Sir Thomas Musgrave in check. Douglas was delighted to find the
crabbed, cross-grained Warden, as he was wont to call him, in such a
complaisant humour; and testified that delight by many well-turned
compliments and encomiums on his vigilance and gallant support. He got
introduced to all the gentlemen of the party, with whom he exchanged
civilities, desiring them all to regard him as their friend, and one
ready to do them a kindness whenever it lay in his power. "And now,
Sir Ringan, since you hold the taking of the castle of Roxburgh so
light," said he, "I think it is meet that my men and I should march
and give battle to Musgrave. Probably you may have taken possession of
that troublesome garrison before we return."
"If I do, my Lord of Douglas, I take it for myself," replied Sir
Ringan; "and claim all the privileges, rights, and immunities that
were to devolve on you as the reducer of it. Now, if I should take the
castle of Roxburgh before your return, I suspect you would find it as
hard work to expel me, and these Border warriors of mine, as the
half-starved English that you have there already. I have all these
brave fellows to hold in beef and malt, my Lord of Douglas; and for
their sakes I have laid down a golden rule to walk by, which is, _To
do nothing for nothing_. If I take the castle of Roxburgh, I take it
for myself and them."
Douglas, who knew nothing of the prophecy and injunctions from the
book of the destinies of men, became more convinced than ever, that
the Warden knew of some flaw or some tangible point in the garrison;
and if there existed a knowledge of such a thing, he resolved to avail
himself of it by any means. He knew Sir Ringan too well to suppose he
would confide his secret to him, without a certainty of reaping due
advantage; and that, therefore, it behoved to give him a prevailing
interest in it. With this view, he answered him, jocularly: "Though
you were to receive all that was promised to me, in the event of my
success, you would probably find yourself only a loser by the
guerdon."
"Why, are you not to be made the king's son-in-law," replied Sir
Ringan? "and thereby the first subject, or rather the first man of the
realm; for, by the indolence and retired habits of our sovereign, you
would have the whole kingdom at your beck. Call you this nothing, my
Lord? Or would it be fair and reasonable,--supposing the thing
possible, which I do not pretend to say it is,--that if my warriors
and I should put you in possessession of all this power, riches, and
honours, would it be fair, I say, that we should be again turned out
to these Border wastes, to live by our shifts, without reaping any
thing of the benefit?"
"Should you take the castle for me, in my absence, noble Sir Ringan,
your reward shall be of your own naming."
"Would it not be better, Lord Douglas, that the reward were settled
before-hand; and, then, I lose or gain at my own risk and peril. If I
deliver you no produce, I ask no pay."
"And what is the reward Sir Ringan would ask for such a piece of
incalculable service?"
"My choice of seven baronies on the West Border, to divide amongst
these gentlemen commoners, to whose support I owe every thing."
"You are a master worth serving, brave Sir Ringan. But such a grant
would break my power on the Border for ever."
"It is that your power on the Border _may not_ be broken for ever,
Lord Douglas, that I make the proffer. I am safer without the
venture. But you are a day's march nearer to the English army,--draw
off your men silently before the break of day, and march against it. I
shall supply your place at the blockade, to the west of the castle,
without loss of time, and answer to you at your return for all ingress
or egress that takes place in that division. If Sir Thomas proves hard
for you, you have only to keep your men together, and fall back toward
the entrenchments. You shall find you have some good back-friends
there."
Douglas had determined on no account to let this proffer of the
Warden's ingenious head and powerful arm in the taking of the fortress
pass without trial; so, without more ado, he called for the friar's
tablets, and made out a grant to Sir Ringan, in free present, of the
barony and lands of Gilterscleuch, and his choice of seven of the best
baronies belonging to the house of Douglas in the districts adjoining
to the West Border, in the event of his putting James, Lord of Douglas
and Mar, in full possession of the castle of Roxburgh. This grant
signed and sealed, the Douglas departed, after pledging the Warden and
his friends in a hearty stirrup cup, both chiefs being alike well
pleased with the agreement they had entered into. The Douglas posted
back to Roxburgh, and reached it just in time to put the western
division of his army in motion at break of day; while Sir Ringan made
his musters by the light of the moon, and marched off to the siege of
Roxburgh.