Sir Cockburn, or Childe Cockburn, as he is
indifferently called, is a distinguished freehooter
of the new order of knights of the post. I have
entered so fully into his character in the poem,
that it is quite unnecessary to resort to my usual
method of illustrating by notes. One anecdote
however will show how nearly he approaches
the models of the purest order of chivalry, in
uniting the most unheard of bravery with the
most gallant devotion to the ladies.
After the burning of Havre de Grace, a party
headed by Sir Cockburn, with his usual solicitude
to be foremost in every gallant achievement,
made an excursion to the house of a neighbouring
gentleman, in which several ladies of the first
respectability had taken refuge. After plundering
the house, they were proceeding in the true
spirit of border chivalry, to set it on fire, when
a lady in an agony of terror, fell on her knees to
the gallant knight, and begged him to spare the
house, and “she would love him as long as she
lived.”
He did spare the house, but nothing else, and
the next day in answer to the application of the
lady for the restitution of her clothes, jocosely
reminded her “that he hoped she would remember
her promise.” This was in the true spirit of
a William of Deloraine, and plainly showed that
Sir Cockburn was well versed in the ordinances
of chivalry, where the most lofty daring is coupled
with the most “generous loyalty to age and
sex.”
I am told that America is a rare place for
British officers, and that the ladies there, many
of them, resemble a certain fish, which is easily
taken with a bit of red rag. This circumstance
probably induced sir Cockburn to play off his
gallantry, not supposing that a lady of the least
taste or refinement could hate one of his majesty's
officers, even though he were a perfect Barrabbas.
