University of Virginia Library

Thirlestane.

A FRAGMENT.

Fer, fer hee raide, and fer hee gaed,
And aft hee sailit the sea;
And thrise he crossit the Alpyne hyllis
To dystante Italye.

83

Beyonde Lough Nesse hys tempil stude,
Ane celle of meikle fame;
A knichte of guid Sainte John hee wals,
And Baldwyn wals hys name.
By wondyrous lore hee coulde explore,
Whatte after tymes wald be;
And manie mystic lynks of fate,
He hafflyns could foresee.

84

Fer, fer hee raide, and fer hee gaed,
Owre mony hyll and daill,
Tyll passynge through the fayre Foreste,
Hee learnit ane waesome tale.
Whare Ettricke wandyrs downe ane playne,
Withe lofty hyllis belayit,
The staitly toweris of Thirlestane
Withe wondyr hee surveyit.
Black hung the bannyr onne the walle;
The trumpit seemit to grane;
And reid, reid ranne the bonnye burne,
Whilke erste lyke syller shaene.
Atte first ane noyse, lyke fairie soundis,
Hee indistinctly hearde;
Then countlesse, countlesse were the croudis
Whilke rounde the wallis appearit.
Thousandis of steidis stude onne the hyll,
Of sable trappyngis vayne;
And rounde onne Ettrickis baittle haughis
Grewe no kin kynde of grayne.
Hee gazit, hee wonderit, sair hee fearit
Some recente tragedye;
Atte lengthe hee spyit ane woeful wichte,
Gaun droopynge owre the ley.
Hys bearde wals sylverit owre withe eild;
Pale wals hys cheike wae-worne;
Hys hayre wals lyke the muirlande wylde
Onne a Decembyr morne.
“Haile, reverente brother!” Baldwyn saide,
“Here in this unco lande,
Ane Temple warrioure greetis thee weel,
And offers thee hys hande.
“O telle mee why the people mourne?
Sure all is notte forre guid:
And why, why does the bonnye burn
Rin reid withe Chrystain bluid?”
Aulde Beattie turnit and shuke hys heide,
While downe felle mony a teire;
“O, wellcome, wellcome, sire,” hee saide,
“Ane waesome tale to heire:
“The guid Syr Robertis sonne and heir
By cruelle handis lyis slayne,
And all hys wyde domaynis so fayre
To ither lordis are gane.
“Onne sic ane youthe als him they mourne
The sunne did never shyne,—
Insteade of Chyrstain bluid, the burne
Rinnis reid with Rhenis wyne.
“This is the sadde returnynge daie
Hee first behelde the lyght,—
This is the sadde returnynge daie
Hee felle by cruelle spyte.
“And onne this daie, withe pompe and pryde,
Hence you will see him borne,
And hys poor father home return,
Of landis and honouris shorne.
“Come to my littil chambyr stille,
In yonder turette low;
We'll say our prayeris forre the dead,
And forre the livynge too.
“And when thou haste ane fre repaste
Of wheat bread and the wyne,
My tale shalle weite thy honeste cheikis,
Als oft it has done myne.”
[OMITTED]
 

Sir Robert Scott, knight of Thirlestane, was first married to a lady of high birth and qualifications, whom he most tenderly loved; but she, soon dying, left him an only son. He was afterwards married to a lady of a different temper, by whom he had several children; whose jealousy of the heir made Sir Robert dote still more on this darling son. She, knowing that the right of inheritance belonged to him, and that, of course, a very small share would fall to her sons, seeing he loved the heir so tenderly, grew every year more uneasy. But the building, and other preparations which were going on at Gamescleuch, on the other side of the Ettrick, for his accommodation on reaching his majority, when he was also to be married to a fair kinswoman, drove her past all patience, and made her resolve on his destruction. The masonry of his new castle of Gamescleuch was finished on his birth-day, when he reached his twentieth year; but it never went farther. This being always a feast-day at Thirlestane, the lady prepared, on that day, to put her hellish plot in execution; for which purpose she had previously secured to her interest John Lally, the family piper. This man, tradition says, procured her three adders, of which they chose the parts replete with the most deadly poison; these they ground to a fine powder, and mixed with a bottle of wine. On the forenoon before the festival commenced, he went over to Gamescleuch to regale his workmen, who had exerted themselves to get their work finished on that day, and Lally the piper went with him as a server. When his young lord called for wine to drink a health to the masons, John gave him a cup of the poisoned bottle, which he drank off. Lally went out of the castle, as if about to return home; but that was the last sight of him. He could never be found nor heard of, though the most diligent and extended search was made for him. The heir swelled and burst almost instantaneously. A large company of the then potent name of Scott, with others, were now assembled at Thirlestane to grace the festival; but what a woeful meeting it turned out to be! They with one voice pronounced him poisoned; but where to attach the blame remained a mystery, as he was so universally loved and esteemed. The first thing the knight caused to be done, was blowing the blast on the trumpet or great bugle, which was the warning for all the family instantly to assemble; which they did in the court of the castle. He then put the following question: “Now, are we all here?” A voice answered from the crowd, “We are all here but Lally the piper.” Simple and natural as this answer may seem, it served as an electrical shock to old Sir Robert. It is supposed that, knowing the confidence which his lady placed in this menial, the whole scene of cruelty opened to his eyes at once; and the trying conviction that his peace was destroyed by her most dear to him, struck so forcibly upon his feelings, that it totally deprived him of reason. He stood a long time speechless, and then fell to repeating the answer he had received, like one half awakened out of a sleep; nor was he ever heard, for many a day, to speak another word than these, “We're all here but Lally the piper:” and when any one accosted him, whatever was the subject, that was sure to be the answer he received.

The method which he took to revenge his son's death was singular and unwarrantable. He said that the estate of right belonged to his son, and since he could not bestow it upon him living, he would spend it all upon him now he was dead; and that neither the lady, nor her children, should ever enjoy a farthing of that which she had played so foully for. The body was accordingly embalmed, and lay in great splendour at Thirlestane for a year and a day; during all which time Sir Robert kept open house, welcoming and feasting all who chose to come, and actually spent or mortgaged his whole estate, saving a very small patrimony in Eskdale-muir, which belonged to his wife. Some say, that while all the country, who chose to come, were thus feasting at Thirlestane, she remained shut up in a vault of the castle, and lived on bread and water.

During the three last days of this wonderful feast, the crowds which gathered were immense; it seemed as if the whole country were assembled at Thirlestane. The butts of wine were carried to the open fields, the ends knocked out of them with hatchets, stones, or whatever came readiest to hand, and the liquor carried about, “in stoups and in caups.” On these days the burn of Thirlestane ran constantly red with wine, and even communicated its tincture to the river Ettrick. The family vault, where his corpse was interred in a leaden chest, is under the same roof with the present parish church of Ettrick, and distant from Thirlestane about a Scots mile. To give some idea of the magnitude of the burial, the old people tell us, that though the whole way was crowded with attendants, yet when the leaders of the procession reached the church, the rearmost were not nearly got from Thirlestane.

Sir Robert shortly after dying, left his family in a state little short of downright beggary, which, they say, the lady herself came to before she died. As Sir Robert's first lady was of the family of Buccleuch, some suspected him of having a share in forwarding the knight's desperate procedure. Certain it is, however, he did not, in this instance, depart from the old family maxim, “Keep what you have, and catch what you can,” but made a noble hand of the mania of grief, which so overpowered the faculties of the old baron; for when accounts came to be cleared up, a large proportion of the lands turned out to be Buccleuch's. And it is added, on what authority I know not, that when the extravagance of Sir William Scott obliged the Harden family to part with the Thirlestane property, which fell into their hands, the purchasers were bound by the bargain to refund these lands, should the Scotts of Thirlestane ever make good their right to them, either by law or redemption.

The nearest lineal descendent from this second marriage is one Robert Scott, a poor man who lives at the Binks on Teviot, whom the generous Buccleuch has taken notice of and provided for. He is commonly distinguished by the appellation of Rob the Laird, from the conviction of what he would have been had he got fair play. With this man, who is very intelligent, I could never find an opportunity of conversing, though I sought it diligently. It is said, he can inform as to many particulars relating to this sad catastrophe; and that, whenever he has occasion to mention a certain great predecessor of his (the Lady of Thirlestane), he distinguishes her by a very uncouth epithet. It must be remarked, that I had access to no records for the purpose of ascertaining the facts above stated, though I believe they are, for the most part, pretty correct. Perhaps much might be learned by applying to the noble representative of the family, the Honourable Lord Napier, who is still possessed of the beautiful mountains round Thirlestane, and who has it at present in contemplation to rebuild and beautify it; which may God grant him health and prosperity to accomplish. It is to this story that the following fragment alludes.

It is not a little singular, that in the Napier genealogy, published in Wood's Peerage, from a manuscript contained in Lord Napier's charter-chest, there is no mention made of this catastrophe; nor is it possible, from that genealogy, to ascertain who the heir that was thus taken off has been. Yet there is so little doubt of the traditionary story having been true, that it was the foundation of a lawsuit, which lasted for generations, regarding a part of the lands that belonged either to Sir Robert's second lady, or were hers in reversion. The Sir Robert Scott of Thirlestane, who was warden-depute of the West Border in 1567, and who married Margaret, daughter of Sir Walter Scott, had in fact three sons, and in this chronicle no second lady is mentioned. But on the other hand, his eldest son and heir, Robert, is merely mentioned; and it is evident that he had died young, and without issue. From this it is highly probable, that he was the heir who was supposed to have been poisoned; for it further appears, that some remnants of the estate fell to his brother William, and to his children; but from that time forth they are no more styled Scotts of Thirlestane, until 1666, when one Francis Scott was created a baronet by patent, and designed of Thirlestane in the county of Selkirk. He was the eldest son of Patrick Scott of Tanlawhill, commonly called Pate the Laird, and great-grandson to the last Sir Robert Scott by Walter his third son. There is therefore apparently some confusion in the manuscript about this period, which is manifestly very short and imperfect; a circumstance which would naturally enough occur in the embarrassed state of the family. Pate the Laird recovered a mere fragment of the ample estate of Thirlestane, by purchasing the wadsets of a few of the best of the farms around the castle. When Sir Robert was appointed keeper of the West Marches under his father-in-law, he could have mounted his horse at Eltrive Lake, and ridden to the Crurie, near Langholm, on his own lands, a distance of 30 miles. The Honourable Captain William Napier has built a splendid mansion at the old family seat, and beautified the country by many improvements. Why does he not resume the old paternal name?