A True History Of several Honourable Families of the Right Honourable Name of Scot ::

A True History Of several Honourable Families of the Right Honourable Name of Scot

In the Shires of Roxburgh and Selkirk, and others adjacent. Gathered out of Ancient Chronicles, Histories, and Traditions of our Fathers. By Capt. Walter Scot, An old Souldier, and no Scholler, And one that can Write nane, But just the Letters of his Name

Scot, Walter (ca. 1614-ca. 1694)

[Part First.]

To the Right Honourable, and Generous Lord, JOHN Lord YESTER,

A True History of several Honourable Families of the Right Honourable Name of Scot, &c.

Part Second.

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1. [Part First.]

To the Right Honourable, and Generous Lord, JOHN Lord YESTER,

Appearand Earl of TWEDDALE; Son to Jean Countess of Tweddale, who was Daughter to that Valiant Lord, Walter Earl of Buckcleugh, Your Honours worthy Grand-Father.

Seek then Heavens Kingdom, and things that are right,
And all things else shall be upon thee cast;
Holy days of Joy shall never turn to night,
Thy blessed State shall everlasting last.
Live still as ever in thy Makers sight,
And let Repentance purge your Vices past.
Remember you must drink of Death's sharp Cup,
And of your Stewardship accompt give up.
Had you the Beauty of fair Absalom,
Or did your Strength the strength of Sampson pass;
Or could your Wisdom match wise Solomon,
Or might your Riches Cræsus Wealth surpass:
Or were your Pomp beyond great Babylon,
The proudest Monarchy that ever was;
Yet Beauty, Wisdom, Riches, Strength, and State,
Age, Death, and Time, will spoil and ruine it.
Health, Happiness, and all Felicity,
Unto the end may your attendance be.

Your Honours most obedient, humble and devouted Servant, WALTER SCOT.

A True History of several Honourable Families of the Right Honourable Name of Scot, &c.

I was once a man, though now I'm none but a poor decript one;
Fifty seven years, Arms I did bear Abroad, or in Scotland,
When I began on the twenty ninth, I was a slender man;
Now when I end on the eighty eight, I am not very strong.
I never was an Hour at School, although these Lines I dite,
I never learn'd the Catechism, and yet I none can Write,
Except the Letters of my Name which I scarcely understand,
These I was forc'd to learn for shame when I was in Command.
Of Shepherds Swains I mind to carp,
And valiant Tammerlane into the second Part,
My drowsie Muse is almost drown'd with care,
How she dare venture to climb Honours Stare:
The Honour's little worth that's purchas'd by Coyn,
Joan made such a Market when she was Pope of Rome.
Honour hath gilded Wings, and soars most high,
And does behold the steps of Majesty;
Honour the lofty Lyon of Renown,
Which is no Merchandize for Butcher or Clown:
Honour's the greatest Favour a Prince can yield,
All true gain'd Honour is win into the Field;
He needs no complementing Book him to instruct,
That gains his Honour by valour and conduct;
Peasant bought Honour is like to those,
That puts a gold Ring in a Brood-sows nose;
Whereas other Mettal may serve as well,
Either Copper, Brass, Iron, or Steill;

I wish true Honour still may be preserv'd;
For many gets Honour that n'ere does deserv't:
The valiant Earl of Buckcleugh, when I was young,
To the Bush in Brabant with his Regiment came,
Which is the space of fifty nine years agone,
I saw him in his Arms appear,
Which was on the sixteen hundred and twenty seven year;
That worthy Earl his Regiment was so rare,
All Hollands Leagure could not with them compare;
Like Hannibal, that noble Earl he stood,
To the great effusion of his precious Blood;
The Town was tane with a great loss of men,
To the States of Holland from the King of Spain.
His Honours praise, throughout all Nations sprung,
Born on the wings of Fame that he was Mars's Son,
The very Son of Mars, which furrowed Neptunes brow;
And over the dangerous deep undauntedly did plow.
He did esteem his Countries honour more,
Than Life and Pelf which Peasants does adore:
His noble Ancestors their Memories
Are born on wings of Fame, as far as Titans rise;
And universally they are divulg'd from thence,
Through the circle of all Europes circumference;
Let their example be a Spur to you,
That you their worthy Vertues may pursue.
They were brave men, I wish ye be so still,
They had good Courage guided with good Skill,
Which Skill and Courage, Fortune, Grace, and Will,
I do beseech the Almighty to bestow
On you their Off-spring all, both high and low;
Time hath recorded Buckcleughs matchless force,
By Sea or Land with valiant Foot or Horse;

He made France tremble, and Spain to quake;
The foundation of Brabant they made shake:
And as true valour did inspire their breasts,
So victory and honour crown'd their crests,
Of both Walter Lord, and Walter Earl;
In the Netherlands they did so much prevail,
I wish your good intention may contain,
And you may be like them in every thing;
That as your Parents are, so you may be
Rare patterns unto your Posteritie.
That all your foes with terror now may know,
Some Branches of Buckcleuch has beat them so;
True Honour, Fame and Victory attend you,
And great Jehovah in your just cause defend you;
That immortality your Fames may Crown,
And God may have the Glory and Renown.
When brave Earl Walter he was dead and gone,
He left his son Earl Francis in his room;
Who married when he was but young,
Before he came to perfection;
His Age was twenty years and five,
When death depriv'd him of his life;
His Familie they were but twain,
He left them in the Mothers keeping;
So by experience we see every day,
That bad things do increase, and good things do decay;
And vertue with much care from vertue breeds,
Vice freely springs from vice, like stinking weeds.
Sardanapulus King of Babylon,
Was to his Concubine such a Companion,
That he in their attire, did show, and sign,
An exercise unfitting for a King:

These, and a number more his fancy fed,
To compass which his shifts were manifold;
A bull, a ram, a swan, a shour of Gold,
To dreadful thunder, and consuming fire,
And all to quench his inward flames desire:
Apollo turn'd fair Daphne into bay,
Because she from his lust did flee away;
He loved his Hiacinth, and his Loronis,
As fervently as Venus and Adonis;
So much he from his god head did decline,
That for a Wench he kept Dametus kine;
And many other gods have gone astray,
If all be true, which Ovids books doth say;
Thus to fulfill their lusts, and win their Trulls,
We see that these ungodly gods were Gulls;
The mighty Captain of the Mermidons,
Being captived to these base passions,
Met an untimely unexpected slaughter,
For fair Pollixena, King Priamus's daughter;
Lucretius rape was Torquins overthrow,
Shame often payes the debt that sin doth ow;
What Philomela lost, and Tyrus won,
It caus'd the lustful Father eat his Son;
In this vice Nero took such beastly joy,
He married was to Sperus a young boy;
And Piriander was with Lust so fed,
He with Melista lay when she was dead,
Pigmalion with an Image made of stone
Did love and lodge, I'le rather ly alone;
Aristophanes joyn'd in love would be,
To Asheas, but what an asse was he;
A Roman Appius did in Goal abide
For love of fair Virginia, where he dyed;

That second Henry aged childish fond
On the fair feature of fair Rosamond;
That it raised most unnatural hateful strife,
Betwixt Himself, his Children and his Wife;
The end of which was, that the jealous Queen,
Did poyson Rosamond in furious spleen;
The fourth English King Edward lower did descend,
He to a Gold-smiths wife his love did bend,
This suggred sin hath been so general,
That it hath made the strongest Champions fall,
For Sichem ravisht Dina; for which deed,
A number of the Sichemites did bleed;
And Sampson the prime of manly strength,
By Dalila was overcome at length:
King David frailly fell, and felt the pain,
And with much sorrow was restor'd again.
Though Saul his foe he no way would offend,
Yet this sin made him kill his loyal friend;
A man with Thamar incest did commit,
And Absalom depriv'd his life for it.
And Solomon allow'd most royal means,
To keep three hundred Concubines,
By whose means to Idolatry he fell,
Almost as low, as to the gate of Hell;
At last repenting, he made declaration,
That all was vanity, and sp'rits vexation;
Abundance of examples men may find,
Of Kings and Princes to this vice inclin'd,
Which is no way for meaner men to go;
Because their betters often wandred so:
For they were plagu'd of God, and so shall we,
Much more, if of their sin we partners be.

To shew what women have been plunged in,
The bottomless abyss of this sweet sin;
There are examples of them infinit,
Which I ne're mean to read, much less to writ,
To please the Reader, though I'le set down some,
As they unto my memory do come.

Now I leave the Familie, aud return again to brave Lord Walter, and his Son Walter Earl in Scotland, where these worthy Lords were born.

Lord of Buckleuch into the Scots border
Was high Lord Warden, to keep them in good order;
On that border was the Armstrangs able men,
Somewhat unruly, and very ill to tame;
I would have none think that I call them Thieves;
For if I did, it would be arrant lies;
For all Frontiers, and Borders, I observe;
Where-ever they ly, are Free-booters,
And does the enemy much more harms,
Than five thousand marshal-men in arms;
The Free-booters venture both Life and Limb,
Good wife, and bairn, and every other thing;
He must do so, or else must starve and die;
For all his lively-hood comes of the Enemie:
His Substance, Being, and his House most tight,
Yet he may chance to loss all in a night;
Being driven to poverty, he must needs a Free-booter be,
Yet for vulgar Calumnies there is no remedie:
An ariant liar calls a Free-booter a Thief,
A free-booter may be many a mans relief:
A free-booter will offer no man wrong,
Nor will take none at any hand;

He spoils more Enemies now and then,
Than many hundreds of your marshal-men:
Near to a Border Frontier in time of War,
There ne're a man but he's a free-booter:
Where fainting fazard dare not show their face;
And calls their off-spring Thieves to their disgrace;
These are Serpents Spirits, and vulgar Slaves,
That slanders Worthies sleeping in their Graves.
But if fourty Countrey-men had such rascalls in bogs,
They'd make them run like feltered foals from dogs;
The Scot and Ker the mid Border did possess,
The Humes possest the East, and the Johnstons the West,
With their adjacent neighbours, put the English to more pains,
Nor half the North, and all three Louthians:
Yet with the Free-booters I have not done,
I must have another sling at him,
Because to all men it may appear,
The Free-booter he is a Volunteer;
In the Muster-rolls he has no desire to stay,
He lives by Purchase, he gets no Pay:
King Richard the second of England sent,
A great Army well arm'd into Scotland,
Through Cumberland they came by his Command,
And ordain'd to cross the River at Solway Sand.
In Scotland King Robert Stuart the first did reign,
Yet had no intelligence of their coming;
The Free-booters there they did conveen,
To the number of, four or five hundred Men:
In ambush these Volunteers lay down,
And waited whilst the Army came;
At a closs strait place, there they did stay,
Where they knew the English could not get by-way;

And when they came the ambush nigh,
They rose with clamours and shouting high:
Which terrified the English-men,
That they drown'd most part in Solway-Sand:
It's most clear, a Free-booter doth live in hazards train,
A Free-booters a Caveleer that ventures Life for Gain:
But since King James the sixt to England went,
There has been no cause of grief,
And he that hath transgressed since then,
Is no Free-booter, but a Thief.

In Queen Elizabeths reign she kept a strong Garison,
At Carlile, that Sink-port,
Of Horse and Foot, a thousand men compleat,
The Governour was the Lord Scroup,
It fell about the Martinmass, when Kine was in the prime,
Then Kinment Willy, and his Friends, they did to England run:
Oxen and Kine they brought a Prey out of Northumberland,
Five and fiftie in a drift, to Canninbie in Scotland:
The Owners pitifully cry'd out they were undone,
Then to the Governour they came, and seriously did complain:
The Lord Scroup heard their whole complaint,
And bade them go home again, and no more lament,
For before the Sun did rise or set,
He should be reveng'd on Kinment:
Anone he charged the Trumpeters, they should sound Booty-sadle,
Just at that time the Moon was in her prime,
He needed no Torch-light:
Lord Scroup he did to Scotland come,
Took Kinment the self same night:
If he had had but ten men more, that had been as stout as he,
Lord Scroup had not the Kinment tane with all his Company;
But Kinment being Prisoner, Lord Scroup he had him tane,
In Carlile Castle he him laid, in irons and fetters strong:
Then scornfully Lord Scroup did say,

In this Castle thou must ly,
Before thou goest away, thou must
Even take thy leave of me;
He mean'd that he should suffer death before he went away,
By the Cross of my Sword says Willy then,
I'le take my leave of thee,
Before e're I go away, whether I live or die;
These News came furth to bold Buckcleugh,
Lord Warden at that time,
How Lord Scroup Carlisles Governour
Had Kinment Willy tane;
Is it that way Buckcleugh did say,
Lord Scroup must understand,
That he has not only done me wrong,
But my Soveraign James of Scotland:
My Soveraign Lord King of Scotland
Thinks not his Cousin Queen,
Will offer to Invade his Land,
Without leave asked and given;
Thou stole into my Masters Land,
Which is within my Command,
And in a plundering hostile way,
I'le let thee understand;
Before Day-light came thou stole a man,
And like a Thief thou run away;
This Letter came to Lord Scroups hand,
Which from Buckcleugh was sent,
Charging him then to release Kinment,
Or else he should repent;
Scotland is not a fitting part,
I suppose England is the same;
But if thou carry a valiant heart, I'le fight thee in Holland;

There thou and I may both be free, which of us wins the day,
And be no cause of Mutiny, nor Invasions prey;
Our Princes rare will not compare for dignity and fame,
It nothing doth transgress their Laws what we do in Holland:
This Message by a Drummer sent,
To the Governour Lord Scroup,
A frivolous Answer he returned,
Which made bold Buckcleugh to doubt;
That he must into Carlisle ride,
And fetch the Kinment out,
The Armstrong was a hardy Name
Into their own Country;
But like Clim of the Cleugh and little John,
On England they did prey,
Kinments sirname was Armstrong,
He from Giltknocky sprang;
But Mengertoun he was the chief
Of the Name of Armstrong,
It was not for their own respects,
That Buckcleugh turned their Guardian;
It was for the honour of Scotland,
By reason he was Lord Warden;
He stormed that any should presume
To enter the Scots border,
Either Cornish, Irish, English, Welch,
Unless they had his Order;
If he had known when Lord Scroup did appear,
To enter the Scots-ground, he had call'd up his Rear;
But since he mist him in all Scotlands bounds,
In England he gave him sowre Pears for Plums.

Here follows how the Lord Buckcleugh affronts the Lord Scroup, first by Letters, and then by taking him prisoner out of the Castle of Carlisle by a Stratagem.

Thus being vext, he shew the Friends of the Name,
How the Lord Scroup had Willy Kinment tane;
And said, if they would but take part with him,
He knew a way to bring him back again;
To which Demand they presently did conclude,
They would serve his Honour to the last drop of their blood:
For certainty did prov'd to be a truth,
He'll still be call'd the good Lord of Buckcleugh;
His Friends advice that he desir'd to know,
Was Howpasly, Thirlstone, Bonnitoun, and Tushilaw,
And Gaudilands his Uncles son,
With Whitslade, Headshaw and Sinton,
And Gilbert Elliot he was not of his Name,
But was his Honours Cousin-german;
Those Gentlemen in Vote did all agree,
Five hundred to march in his Honours Company;
He thank'd them for their Vote, and said, that must not be,
Pick me out chosen men, no more but thirty three;
At Thirlston his Brethren they did begin,
They being the first Cousin-german,
Both Walter and William was there in brief,
And presented their Service unto their Chief;
Then Tushilaw did follow them,
And sent his two sons James and John,
With Mr. Arthur Scot of Newburgh,
And Robert Scot of Gilmarscleugh,
Bowhill his brother William did thither come,
And John Scot brother to Bonnitoun;

So did William of Haining, a valiant Squire,
And William Scot of Hartwoodmire,
And William of Midgap came theretill,
He was Grandsir to this Laird of Horslyhill;
Walter of Diphope a Mettal-man,
And John of Middlestead together came;
Robert of Huntly he did not fail,
He came with the Scots of the Water of Ail;
So did Walter of Todrig that well could ride,
And Robert Scot brother to Whitslade,
Andrew of Sallinside he was one,
With James of Kirkhouse, and Askirks John;
Robert of Headshaw himself would gang,
He was his Honours Cousin-german;
Sinton and Wall, they stay'd at home,
Kirkhouse and Askirk went in their room;
Because it was my Lord's decree,
But younger Brethren they all should be;
Some stout and valiant able men,
They would not stay at home,
And some related to my Lord they needs would go along,
Although my Lord to Friends had letten't fall,
He would not have a Landed man at all;
Yet valiant men they would not bide,
As appeared by Hardin, Stobs, and Commonside;
They counted not their Lives and Lands so dear,
As the loss of the least Title of their Chief's honour.
But now I come for to explain,
The rest of these three and thirty men;
Satchells and Burnfoot they cross'd these Strands,
With Burnfoot in Tiviot and Gaudilands,
Hardin and Stobs before I did name,

Now follows Howfoord and Robertoun,
Howpasly he sent out his Brother,
And Allan-haugh sent out another;
Clack and Alton did both accord,
To present their Service unto my Lord;
Hassenden came without a call,
The antientest House among them all;
Thus I have gone through with pain,
To reckon the three and thirty men;
These Gentlemen were all Scots,
Except Gilbert Elliot of the Stobs,
Which was a valiant Gentleman,
And as said before my Lord's Cousin-german;
These Gentlemen did all conveen,
At Branksom-gate his Honour to attend;
They neither knew the Cause, nor what the Cause might be,
Before they came the length of Netherbie;
Although his Honours trusty Friend did ken,
Both some that went with him, and some that stay'd at home;
They had it on Parol under great Secrecy,
And to reveal't was worse than Infamy;
When it pleas'd my Lord to ride, no man did know,
What his Intention was, and whither he did go;
Except his Counsellors, Knights, and Gentlemen of Fame,
Which passed not above seven or eight in all the Name;
Where-ever he went, he had one or two of them,
And for the rest he let them nothing ken.

But now for to proceed without delay,
Buckcleugh from Branksom took the way,
Through the Woods of Esk in a full Carrier went he,
To the Woodhouseleys which is near to Netherbie;
And there a while continued he,

He brought Wrights along in his Company;
And caused them Scaling-ladders make,
Although the Wrights knew not for what;
Both artificial, long and strong,
There was six Horsemen to carry them along;
In a high Carrier my Lord did ride,
To the Woodhouslies on the Border-side;
For Netherbie is in English ground,
But the Woodhouslies is in Scotland;
There is a long Mile them between,
Divided by the River of Esk her furious Streams;
My Lord caused raise a vulgar report,
That he was only come to hold a Justice-Court;
Which caused Fugitives to flee,
Unto the Woods and Mountains high;
And for the Ladders tight and tall,
Was made for the Towers of Branksom-hall;
Though it was made long and strong and most compleat,
To reach Carelisles Castles Battlement;
Such excuses there was for every thing,
But for's Honours intention there was no din;
Most privatly he his course did steer,
About Christmass, the hinder end of the year:
The day was past before the Wrights had done,
Then it was long eight Mile to Carelisle Town;
The Way was deep, and the Water was strong,
And the Ladder was fifty Foot long;
The Firmament was dark, the gods was not in place,
Then Madam Night did show her ebon'd face;
Luna in sable Mantle her course did steer,
And Jupiter he no way did appear;
Then scorching Sol, he was gone to his rest,

And Titan had tane lodging in the VVest;
Saturn he did rule into that strain,
Mars and Venus under Cloud remain'd;
Joves Thunder-bolts in Skies did not appear,
Juno mask'd in a Fog, the Night was no ways clear,
But yet his Honour he did no longer bide,
But paced throughout the Muir to the River Edin-side;
Near the Stonish-bank my Lord a time did stay,
And left the one half of his Company,
For fear they had made noise or din,
Near the Castle they should come,
The River was in no great rage,
They cross'd near half a Mile below the Bridge;
Then along the Sands with no noise at all,
They come close uuder the Castle-wall;
Then masked Midnight slowth did keep,
And mortal Eyes was inclined to sleep;
Immediatly they did their Ladder plant,
Which reach'd the Castles Battlement;
Then up the Ladder they reer but doubt,
And broke a sheet of Leid on the Castle-top,
A passage made, and in they came,
The Cape-house-door they burst in twain;
Then down the Stairs they come amain,
Where Kinment fettered lay within,
Then with Fore-hammers Doors they broke down,
Amazing the Lord Scroup, and all his Garison;
They hors'd Kinment with his Bolts upon a strong mans back,
And to the Castle-top in the Ladder they did him set,
The Wardens Trumpets did most sweetly sound,
Which put the Garison in a fear,
That all Scotland was come;

The Governour thought the Castle had been gone,
He intended for to run and surely to save none;
Then Kinment said, when first here I did come,
Lord Scroup engaged me to take leave of him;
Then with a turning voice he did cry out;
Farewell, farewell, to my good Lord Scroup,
Which terrified the English more,
By an hundred times than they were before;
Then down the Ladder in haste they Willy gat,
And set him Sadle-aside upon a Horses back;
Mean time the Trumpets sounded, Come if ye dare,
They were the last men that came down the VVooden-stair,
They mounted all with speed, and safely did return
The self same way they formerly did come;
They observ'd neither File nor Rank,
They met with the rest of their Party at Stenicks-bank;
Carlisles Dark-muirs they did pass through,
There was never a man did them pursue,
To Lines-water they come with speed,
Then past the Muirs on the other side;
Then Kinment VVilly cry'd out with pain,
And said his Irons had him undone,
The which to his Legs stuck like Burs,
He never before rode with such large Spurs;
They stayed for no Smith on the English-ground,
At Canninbie they arrived into Scotland;
VVithout loss or hurt to any man,
At Canninbie a Smith they fand;
By that time Aurora did appear,
Then bright Phœbus spread her Beams most clear;
The Smith on haste was set to work,
And fyl'd the Irons off VVilly Kinment;

Yet Kinment VVillie durst not stay at home,
But to Branksome Place, he with his Honor came.

The Lord Scroup afrighted, he did to London hie,
And to Elizabeth his Queen, he form'd many a lie;
And that how King James the sixth of Scotland then
Sent to assault her Castle with an host of Men:
VVhich put her Garison in a terrible fear,
And the villain Kinment VVilly carried away clear;
Such numbers broke in at the Castle top,
And brought Kinment VVilly out of the Pit:
He told the Queen, he thought to flee in haste,
The City could not stand, the Castle being lost,
The vulgar being amazed in such a sort,
It was bright day or he durst open the Port:
They had left the Ladder standing at the VVall:
But in haste they were returned to Scotland all:
VVherefore in sign and token of my Loyalty,
I here complain of Scotlands villany,
And especially of that desperat youth,
The Scots VVarden, he's call'd, Lord of Buckcleugh:
The Queen caused her Council to conveen,
And shew them how Carlisles Garison,
Late by the Scots she was affronted,
For they on her Castle were high mounted:
And broke in at the very top,
And reliev'd Kinment from the Pit,
The Queen and her Council did command,
A Messenger to pass into Scotland:
To ask King James what was his reason,
In a hostile way to assault the Garison:
VVith such an host of men of war,
And fetcht away her Prisoner:

The King the Message soon did understand,
And shew his Cusin the Queen of England,
He then desired her Majesty,
She would be pleased and satisfied,
And understand how things are come and gone,
VVhich of the Nations hath done other wrong:
To make her self the Judge, He was content,
And according to their merits she should give out Judgement:
For on his Royal VVord he did explain,
Scroup was first faulter to the Scots Nation:
Lord Scroup he did begin to that effect,
To invade our Land, and imprison our Subjects:
VVith three hundred horse to come into our Land,
VVithout leave of Our VVarden, or any of our command:
A very insolent act against our Crown and Dignity,
By the Law of Arms, he doth deserve to dy:
Our stout Lord VVarden not being in place,
Though Scroup much wrong'd our Nation, and did him disgrace;
It seems he did appeal him privatly to fight,
But like a Coward he did his Challenge slight:
And so without Our order, he went out,
To be reveng'd upon the base Lord Scroup:
No more but sixteen men to Carlisle came,
And gave alarm to Castle and the Town,
VVherein a thousand did remain,
Your Majesty may think he was a stout Captain,
Our Prisoner he did but relieve again,
And none of your Subjects either hurt or slain:
VVe think his valour merits some reward,
That of your Towers and Castles no way was afraid;
VVe think your Governour deserves both lack and shame,
That suffered sixteen men your Prisoner to gain:

That Governour is not a Souldier stout,
Who being a thousand strong, and durst not ventur out:
VVith Letters to such purpose the Messenger did return,
And expresly shew the Queen, she being at London,
Her Council did conveen, and the Decree gave out,
That Scroup was all the blame of the passage went about:
The English Council call'd Buckcleugh a man compleat,
VVhich did merit honour, he must be of a Heroick Spirit:
Both King and Council sounded his Commendation,
VVishing for many such within their English Nation:
Such praises made the Queen her Royal Majesty,
Be most desirous that bold Buckcleugh to see.
The Queen wrot to King James,
All the whole and sole truth,
VVith a fervent desire to see the Lord Buckcleugh,
The King sent for Buckcleugh, and to him did unfold,
Shewing him, he must go see
His Cusin, Queen of England:
Buckcleugh did yeeld to venture Life and Land,
And do whatever the King did him command:
A certain time the King did him confer,
And shew he was a Free-man, no Prisoner;
You with your Servants had best go there by Land,
For all you have to do, it's to kiss our Cusins hand:
The fixed day when that my Lord should go,
Was in the Month of March, when husband men corn sow;
A rumor rose, and spread through the whole Country,
How the Lord Buckcleugh he must at London dy;
Upon the fixed day his Honour went,
Which caused many hundreds to lament;
Which said alas! they were undone,
And fear'd my Lord should ne're return again;

The whole Name of Scot, and all his Friends about,
Maxwel and Johnston conveyed him out;
The Humes came from the Merss,
And in Ednem-Haugh did bide;
A thousand Gentlemen conveyed him over Tweed;
They put him to Flowden Field,
The length of Scotlands ground;
And there took leave, and back again return'd;
Toward London Rode, they did themselves apply,
Thirlston, Sir Robert Scot bear his Honour company;
No more there past with his Honor along,
But three Domestick Servants, and Sir Robert Scot had one:
The day being Tuesday, twenty four myle they wan,
And lodged in Morpeth, into Northumberland,
On Wedensday twenty four myles they came,
Into the Principality of Durham;
On Thursday they their Course did steer,
Thirty four myles to Borrow-bridge in York-shire,
On Friday to Duncaster his Honor bade;
Twenty eight myle that day he no less rade:
To view the Town, his Honor did desire,
It being within the County of York-shire;
For as men pass along the Road,
York-shire is sixty six myles broad,
On Saturnday, twenty eight myle he went,
To New-wark Town that stands upon Trent,
And all the Sabbath his Honor did remain,
The Town lyes in the County of Notingham;
On Munday he his Course did steer,
Twenty six myles to Stenfoord in Lincoln-shire,
On Tuesday twenty short myle he came,
To the Town and Shire called Huntingtoun,

On Wednesday his Honor did fare,
Twenty nine myles to Ware in Hartford-shire,
On Thursday he did go betwixt,
Ware and Troynovent in Middlesex,
Troynovent was the antient Name;
King Lud brought it to be call'd London,
He did not sooner London gain,
Till it was noised among the English-men,
They run in flocks, and did on's Honor gaze,
As he had been the Monster slain by Hercules,
The People to their Neighbours did cry out,
Come let us go, and see that valiant Scot:
Which out of Carlisle stoutly took,
Kinment in spight of our Lord Scroup,
In Carlisle Kinment did remain,
Whilst this Scot fetcht him out, and had but sixteen men,
At London Kinment Willy his name was better known,
Nor it was in the Border-side where his Fore-fathers were born:
But now for to conclude within a little time,
The good Lord of Buckcleugh to the English Court did win;
That valiant Cavalier he came with such a Grace,
The English Wardens usher'd him to the Presence;
Notice came to the Queen, that bold Buckcleugh was there,
Then she left her Privat Chamber, and in Presence did appear;
The Queen in modesty, a Complement did frame,
Desiring to know the health of his Master,
Her Cousin good King James,
A sign of War to me appears, and makes great variance;
Amongst such Blades who do invade,
And become League-breakers,
Since ye intrude within Our Border,
And did assault Our Garison;

And Kinment reliev'd without order;
Ye make but a scar-crow of Englands Queen,
I thought my Cusin James yet King,
Should never done his Friend such wrong,
But this I leave to another time;
He may repent or it be long.

Buckcleughs Speech.

Then bold Buckcleugh spoke forth the Truth;
And to the Queen he did declare:
His Master Scotlands King was free of every thing,
It is your Majesty that makes all the Jars;
Your Majesty did Order give,
As it appears, the Lord Scroup lately said,
That with three hundred horse he would march North,
My Masters Kingdom to invade;
And took His Subjects there Captive,
This will appear to be a wrong,
And in Carlisle keept him in bondage,
Where he laid him into Fetters strong,
Whilst I have Life, or any Strength:
I'le fight for my Masters Dignity,
His captive Subjects to relieve,
By truth it shall not fail in me:
My Royal Master, and Dread Soveraign,
I am His Majesties Subject born,
And to none other Prince but He,
To the Oath of Alledgeance I'le be sworn:
Wherever His Subjects are Prisoners tane,
If I can relieve them, they shall not remain,
I never thought of such a Lawless Act,
To invade your Nation, and your Subjects take;

If I had done, your Majesty had storm'd,
But unlawful tane, unlawful he return'd,
VVhen any of your Subjects unlawfully broke out,
I never did intrude like your Governour Lord Scroup,
But to your VVardens I did still complain,
Who sent me his Malefactor, I sent him mine again.

The Queens Answer.

The Queen she lent attentive ear,
And of his Honours Courage she did much admire,
My Lord, she said, your Speech I'le keep in mind,
And answer you at some other time,
But neither at Court, nor Council ye shall appear,
For I conceive you're a resolute Cavalier:
At Channel-hall your Lodging shall be there,
Then through our privy-garden to court ye may repair,
For your Disport when to the Court ye come,
Peruse our Library, either even or morn,
At your own pleasure what time so e're it be,
And for your clearer passage ye shall have a privat Keye,
Except our Counsellors and Officers in charge,
We do not grant to any, but your merits do deserve,
Thrice worthy Lord your merits do proclaim,
How Honours noble mark is still your aim;
And to attain the which thou holds thy hands to study,
That thy deserts by Fame has won thee gain already,
Industrious Loyalty doth use, and all men tell,
To aim at Honour it levels very well,
And in your trusty Service shot compleat,
That in the end he's sure have hit the white;
Let Fortune frown or smile ye are content,
At all Essays to bear a heart true bent,

Though Sin and Hell work Mortals to betray,
Against their malice God hath arm'd thy way:
When Life and Land, and all away is fled,
Yet thy noble Actions is much honoured,
Thy loyal Service to thy King doth prove,
That to thy Country thy heart is joyn'd in love;
Love is a dying life, a living death,
A vapour, shaddow, a bubble, and a breath;
An idle bable, and a poultrey toy,
Whose greatest pattern is a blinded boy,
When Fortune, Love and Death their task hath done,
Fame makes our life through many Ages run,
For be our Actions good or ill,
Fame keeps a Record of our doings still:
By Fame great Julius Cesar ever lives,
And Fame infamous life to Nero gives:
Those that scapes Fortune and extreams of Love,
Unto their longest homes by Death are driven,
When Cesar, Kesar Subjects, objects most,
Be all alike consumed to dirt and dust,
Death endeth all our Cares, or Cares increase,
It sends us into lasting pain or bless.

Awake, awake my Muse, thou sleeps too long,
To bold Buckcleugh again I will return,
Expressing of the time that he did there resort,
And his Intertainment at the English-court,
For Banquets, he had store, and that most free,
Each day by some of their Nobilitie,
His attendance was by Nobles there,
As he had been a Prince late come from far,
The North-countrie English could not be at rest,
While the Scots-warden came to be their Guest.

Six Weeks at Court continued he,
Still feasted with their Nobilitie;
To the Queens Majestie he made redress,
When she would be pleased he should go from hence,
The Queen was mute, and let the question slide,
Yet wished that he might there abide;
But yet the King of Scots she had no mind to wrong,
By reason that he was her Royal dear Cousin,
To whom she hop'd to prove as kind,
As Mother might do, to please his mind;
What Misses are past, we do declare,
Your King our Cousin will us repair,
Your Master our Cousin and we will agree,
We have already acquainted his Majestie;
But, my Lord, if you will here remain,
Or if ye will return again,
At your Masters hands we'll get you free,
And here you shall have a Sallarie.
He humblie thank'd her Majestie,
Showing the Queen that could not be,
For he had Service in Holland,
And was bound to obey his Masters command;
It was too much to be bound to three,
So beg'd that he might pardoned be.
The Queen answer'd, my Lord, since it is so,
Ye shall be dispatch'd within a day or two,
And a Letter ye shall carrie along with thee
To our Cousin of Scotlands Majestie,
Wherein your heroick Spirit we must commend,
And intend hereafter to be your friend;
Next day she call'd her Secretar,
And charged him a Letter to prepare,

To his Majesties King of Scotland,
Wherein she lets him understand,
She had past from her former wrong,
By reason Buckcleugh was a valiant man.
Cesar and Tammerlan were valiant men, that's plain,
But in their own person they ventured not like him,
Regulus and Schipio was short of him against their foe,
Most stout Buckcleugh with his small train,
Scal'd a Castle, and had but sixteen men,
And brought a prisoner with him along,
That was bound in Chains and Irons most strong,
Mounts to the Castle top so high,
And cliverly brought him away,
Yet a thousand men there was within,
Of Horse and Foot in the Garison,
Although it did us much offend,
Yet his Courage we must commend;
The Queen to him the Letter gave,
And pleasantly she took her leave,
Wishing him a good Journey home,
In hopes no more her Castle he'd storm.
Now I not intend for to set down,
How that his Honour returned home;
But James the sixth that gracious King,
Was well content of his home coming.

Now follows the Antiquity of the Name of Scot.

Since from all danger Buckcleugh was free,
I must speak something of his Familie,
That Lord Buckcleugh his Fame spread far,
Call'd Walter Lord Scot of Whitchester;
Some late start-up bran-new Gentlemen,

That hardly knows from whence their Fathers came,
Except from red nos'd Robin,
Or Trail, Wallet, countrey Tom,
The sons of Cannongate Bess,
That well could play her Game;
Whose labouring heads as great as any house,
These calumnizing Fellows can stagger stare and shame,
And swear the name of Scot is but a new com'd Name,
These new cornuted Gentlemen, why should they lie,
Mr. George Buchannan and Hector Boetius can let them see,
A thousand years, if I do not forget,
By Chronicles I'le prove the Name of Scot.
In King Achaius time that worthy Prince,
John and Clement Scots they went to France,
In Paris they at first began,
In Charles the great his time,
To instruct the Christian Religion,
And there a Colledge they did frame,
Which doth remain unto this very time;
And he that doth not believe me,
Must read Buchannan, and he shall see;
Some other Authors I could give in,
But these are sufficient to them that's not blind;
Some says, they were not Scots to their Name,
But only Scots by Nation,
Yet Monks of Melross they were known,
Which then was in the Picts Kingdom.
John Earl of Channerth sirnamed Scot,
To die without Succession was his unfortunate lot:
Brave Alexander the first, a King both stout and good,
John Earl of Channerth married with his royal blood.
Before Alexander the first, his Brother Edgar did reign,

The first that was anointed of Scotland King;
Reverend John Scot he did surmount,
Who was Bishop Dumblane, and did the King anoint:
Mr. Michael Scot that read the Epistle at Rome,
He was in King Alexander the second's Reign,
Thomas Lermont was first his man,
That was called the Rymer ever since then;
And if my Author doeth speak truth,
Mr. Michael was descended from Buckcleugh;
And if my Author ye would know,
Bishop Spotswoods Book these Scots do show:
How can these randy Liars then,
Make the Scots to be a start-up Clan,
Sure new start-ups themselves must be,
For ancient Families scorns to lie:
But for the Antiquity of the Scot,
There's one thing I have almost forgot,
Which is not worthy of nomination,
Yet to mark Antiquity, I'le make relation;
In the second Session of King Davids Parliament,
There was a Statute made, which is yet extant,
That no man should presume to buy or sell,
With Highland men or Scots of Ewsdale;
Yet Ewsdale was not near the Forrest,
Where brave Buckcleugh did dwell,
According to the old Proverb,
They but fell from the Wains tail;
But when these Scots did bear that stile,
King David resided in Carlisle,
Without and infang they disturb'd his Court,
Which caus'd the King that Act set out:
Here I speak nought but truth, all Men may note,

The very true Antiquity of the Name of Scot,
And now my versing Muse craves some repose,
And while she sleeps, I'le spout a little prose.

And now with sleep my Muse hath eas'd her brain,
I'le turn my Stile to Rhyming Verse again;
King Kenneth the second, that Prince of high renown,
He vanquish'd the Picts, and Conquer'd their Crown,
In revenge of his Fathers death, which basely they murther'd
For which victorious Kenneth mow'd them down,
And annexed their Realm under Scotlands Crown,
The year of Grace he did their Crown annex,

Was in the eight hundred and thirty six,
Or in the fourty six, I know not whether,
The Kingdoms they were joyn'd together,
Being the fourth or fourteenth year of his reign;
And ere the twentieth he did return
To his Mother Earth, from whence he came;
His Soul and Hope doth reach the sky,
His Fame to Titans rise did fly.
Donald the fifth succeeded his Brother then,
And lost as much as King Kenneth won,
A vitious, odious King, he play'd at swig,
Whilst he lost Scotland all to Striviling Bridge,
Yet at's beginning he did come speed,
And vanquish'd his Enemies on the South-side Tweed;
The Picts that fled amongst the English-men,
Requested Osbridge and Ella, two great Princes of England,
To move War against their Enemies in Scotland,
Both English, Brittans, Picts these Princes brought
Which Donald vanquish'd at Jedburgh,
He was so insolent after his victory,
To the River of Tweed he came with his Army,
And two ships he took with Wine and Victuals rare,
And order'd every Souldier for to have their share:
King Donald was given to variosity and greed,
With lust of Body, he could ne're be satisfied,
The whole Camp they had their Paramours,
And was full of Taverns, of Bordels, and Whoors;
They followed Carding, Dycing, and contentious trouble,
That each of them, they did kill one another.
King Osbridge having Advertisement anone,
Rais'd a new Army, and to the Scots he came;
And kill'd twenty thousand Men compleat,

Without Armour, and all fast asleep.
That vile King was tane, as has been said,
And in derision through the Countrey led;
At which time King Osbridge Conquer'd much land,
And that the South-parts of Scotland fand,
Assisted by the Brittans, so that he,
Caus'd Stirling Bridge the Marches for to be,
For Saxons, Brittans and English-men,
In three Kings reigns they kept that Garison,
In Stirling Castle Osbridge did money coyn;
From which the Sterling Money had it's first name;
The Scots valu'd not the Land did belong to the Pict,
But the Lands of Albion Osbridge did afflict;
Ther's Galloway, and the Isle of Man,
Was Lands of Scotland since the first King Fergus came.
So was Kyle and Carrick, all in haill,
Arron through Lennox, with the netherward of Clidsdail;
The Mers and Tiviot-dail was Picts Lands,
And so was all the three Louthians,
So was Peebles, Selkirk and Over-ward of Clidsdail;
Nithsdail, and Annandail; with the five Kirks of Eskdail,
Drunken Donald all these Lands did tyne,
But Gregorius Magnus recover'd them again,
From Gregories death, to Kenneth the thirds reign,
The Borders obey'd neither God, nor King,
Kenneth the third lov'd Deer, both Red and Fellow,
Above all Princes since King Dornadilla:
Hunting was the Sport he liked best,
For all our South-parts was Wood and Forrest,
Except here and there a Summering Plain,
Into which his Keepers did remain.

My Muse has been astray a certain time,
But now in case for to return again;
With the Name of Scot she's minded to contain,
Because they are her worthy Noble Friends,
The year of Grace sixteen hundred and twenty nine,
Carlaverock was a Garison in that time,
Collonel Monro a German Souldier he,
Blockt up the Castle both by Land and Sea,
Into that Leigure I did remain,
In Cockburns Company, I was a Souldier then;
And my chance was with my Command to pass,
To the English-side call'd Burgh under Bowness,
By fortune I fell in a Gentlemans companie,
Call'd Lancelot Scot, who was most kind to me;
He shew'd me his Ancestors hail,
Did live into that Spot;
Since Carlisle Walls were re-built
By David King of Scots;
A Book he gave to me, call'd Mr. Michaels Creed,
But never a word at that time I could read,
What he read to me, I have it not forgot:
It was th'original of our South-countrey Scots,
He said, that Book which he gave me,
Was of Mr. Michael Scots Historie,
Which History was never yet read through,
Nor never will, for no Man dare it do;
Young Scholars have pickt out some thing,
From the Contents, that dare not read within,
He carried me along into the Castle then,
And shew his written Book hanging on an Iron-pin;
His writing Pen did seem to me to be,
Of harden'd Mettal, like Steil, or Accumie;

The volumn of it did seem so large to me,
As the Book of Martyrs and Turks Historie;
Then in the Church he let me see,
A Stone where Mr. Michael Scot did ly.
I ask'd at him how that could appear,
Mr. Michael had been dead above five hundred year,
He shew'd me none durst bury under that Stone,
More than he had been dead few years agone,
For Mr. Michaels name does terrifie each one,
That vulgar people dare scarce look on the Stone,
And more it us'd to pay the Saxons a Fee,
For Strangers are desirous that Stone to see;
That Lancelot Scot he wearied not,
To shew me every thing,
And then incontinent to the Ale-house did return,
Where we had the other Cup and the other Can,
There was no cause of Feed,
Lancelot he said, I was not a Gentleman,
That was not bred to read;
But to proceed, he wearied not,
To shew the Original of the Border Scot,
He said that Book did let him understand,
How the Scots of Buckcleugh gain'd both Name and Land,
He said, Gentlemen in Galloway by fate,
Had fallen at odds, and a Riot did commit,
For in these days, as he did say,
It was call'd Brigants that's now call'd Galloway,
Two valiant Lads of these Brigants
Were censured to be gone,
Then to the South they took their way,
And arrived at Rankelburn,
At Rankelburn where they did come,

The Keeper was call'd Brydine,
They humbly then did him intreat,
For Meat, Drink, and Lodging;
The Keeper stood and then did look,
And saw them pretty men,
Immediatly grants their Request,
And to his House they came:
To wind a Horn they did not scorn,
In the loftiest degree,
Which made the Forrester conceive,
They were better Keepers than he;
In Ettrick-forrest, Meggets-head,
Meucra and Rankelburn-grain,
There was no Keepers in the South,
That could compare with them;
These Gentlemen were Brethren born,
If Histories be not amiss;
The one of them called John Scot,
And the other of them call'd Wat English.
King Kenneth then a Hunting came,
To the Cacra-cross did resort,
And all the Nobles of his Court,
They hither came to see the sport;
Of Ettrick's hew he took a view,
Then to the left hand did turn,
Where he did see that Forrest hie,
Which then was called Rankelburn;
The Keepers and the Strouse-men came,
With Shouts from Hill to Hill,
With Hound and Horn they rais'd the Deer,
But little Blood did spill,

A Buck did come that was so run,
Hard by the Cacra-cross,
He mean'd to be at Rankelburn,
Finding himself at loss,
The Hill was steep, the Bogs were deep,
With Woods and Heather strong,
By a Mile of Ground there none came near it,
But Footmen that did run,
Then one of these two Gentlemen
Which from Galloway did come,
Both Hounds and Deer he keeped near
To the Water in Rankelburn:
And then the Buck being spent and gone,
He on the Hounds did turn
That Gentleman came first along,
And catch'd him by the Horn,
Alive he cast him on his back,
Or any man came there,
And to the Cacra-cross did trot,
Against the Hill a Mile and mair,
The King saw him a pretty man,
And ask'd his Name from whence he came,
He said from Galloway he came,
If't please your Grace my Name is John;
The Deer being curied in that place
At his Majesties demand,
Then John of Galloway ran apace
And fetch'd Water to his Hands,
The King did wash into a Dish,
And Galloway John he wot,
He said thy Name now after this,
Shall e're be call'd John Scot;

The Forrest and the Deer therein,
We commit to thy hand,
For thou shalt sure the Ranger be,
If thou obey Command,
And for the Buck thou stoutly brought,
To Us up that steep Heugh:
Thy Designation ever shall
By John Scot in Buckscleugh.
By strength of Limb and youthful Spring,
Fortune may favour still,
And if thou prove obedient,
We'll mend thee when We will;
John humbly then thanked the King,
And promis'd to be Loyal,
And earnestly beg'd His Majestie,
That he would make a tryal,
My name is John, and I'm alone,
Into this strange Countrie,
Except one Brother with me came,
To bear me Companie;
What is his name then said the King,
He answer'd his name is Wat,
Ye are very well met, then said the King,
He shall be English, and ye are Scot;
At Bellanden let him remain
Fast by the Forrest side,
Where he may do Us Service too,
And assist you with his Aid;
I do believe as my Author did declare,
How the original of Buckcleugh was a valiant Forrester,
It's most like to be true which I have plainly shown,
The old Families of Buckcleugh did carry a Hunting-horn,

Buckcleugh, if that my Author doth speak truth,
It's long since he began,
In the third King Kenneth's Reign,
He to the Forrest came.
The first of their Genealogie,
Though Chronicles be rent and torn,
And made their ends upon the Sea;
Of late into the Usurper's time,
Our Registers away were tane,
Many of them perish'd in the Main,
And never came ashore again.
In Queen Maries Reign they had bad handling,
Sometimes Fortune favour'd, and sometimes frown'd,
'Twixt Stools, if men do miss their mark,
Then their Bottom sure goes to the Ground.
In Edward Longshank's time, king of England,
Our Monuments were lost and gone,
Our Chronicles and Registers to London went,
Yet not returned again.
In the Reign of the third Constantine,
All Substance from this Land was tane
By that Saxon King Edward sirnamed Cinar,
And Edleston his Bastard son;
Since these Hurli-burlies tops-a-turvies,
So oft this Land they have undone,
That a Native durst not show himself,
Except on the tops of the Mountains;
When our Records were sent away,
The Vulgar sort they were not free,
Therefore there was particular acts,
For to be Cloaks to their Knavery;

The Chronicle may err, some men may be preferr'd,
In every Science there is some Cheatry;
For if an Inferior man to a Clerk shall come,
And possess him of such Gallantry,
Then he'l take a word alone,
And so reward him with his Coyn;
Which will cause the Clerk blaze him to the sky,
Within two hundred year may be it do appear,
If the World shall stand so long,
That the late made Purves Act,
Which he obtained to cover his fact,
Will raise his needy Friends to be Gentlemen;
That bold Buckcleugh was none of them,
That ever bought his honor with Coyn;
His Valour did it gain, in Holland and in Swain,
And against the Saxons Seed, they oft did honour gain.
From the Family of Buckcleugh,
There has sprung many a Man,
Four hundred years ago;
Hassinden he was one,
Descended of that Line, and still he doth remain,
And Evident's speaks truth, the same the truth proclaims,
Though Chronicles be lost from many a Familie,
These Characters that remains, the truth they let us see,
Sir Alexander Scot of Hassinden was Knight,
With good King James the fourth, he was kill'd at Flowdon fight,
From Hassinden did spring before that time
The Families of Wall, Delorian and Haining,
The South-countrey Gentry is known for truth,
VVas exercised in Arms into their youth,
None other Education they did apply,
But Jack and Spear against their Enemy;

And because it was their dayly exercise;
They never sought to be Chronicliz'd:
But when a Courtier did any valiant fate;
He was cry'd up to th'stars, and made Lord of State.
But now advance my Muse, and declare the truth,
Of brave John Scot the Original of Buckcleugh;
And because thou art weary, as I suppose,
I'le refrain Verse, and turn my self to Prose;
Good Lancelot Scot, I think his Book be true,
Old Rankelburn is design'd Buckcleugh now,
Yet in his Book no Balls read he,
It was Buckscleugh he read to me;
He told me the Name, the Place, the Coat,
Came all by the hunting of the Buck:
In Scotland no Buckcleugh was then,
Before the Buck in the Cleugh was slain,
Nights-men at first they did appear,
Because Moon and Stars to their Arms they bear,
Their Crest, supporters, and hunting-horn,
Showes their beginning from hunting came;
Their Name and Stile the Book did say,
John gain'd them both into one day:
The very place where that the Buck was slain,
He built a Stone-house, and there he did remain;
He built a Church into that Forrest hie,
There was no man to come to it, but his own Familie,
The Houses Ground-work yet is to be seen;
And at that Church, I many times have been,
A burial place it yet keeps out,
For any poor folk that lyes round about;
To the Paroch Church it's long six mile,
Therefore they bury yet to save travel;

My Guid-sir Satchells, I heard him declare,
There was nine Lairds of Buckcleugh buried there;
But now with rubish and earth it's fill'd up so high,
That no man can the Through-stones see,
But nine Tomb-stones he saw with both his eyne,
But knew not who was buried under them;
Also they built a Miln on that same burn,
To grind Dogs-bran, though there there grew no Corn,
For in my own time Corn little there hath been,
There was neither Rig nor Fur for to be seen,
But Hills and Mountains on every side,
The Haugh below, scarce a hundred foot wide;
Yet there's a Miln-steed in that Brook,
And the Church-walls I have seen them all up,
It is two reasonable myle,
Between the Miln-steed and the Kirk-style,
My Guid-sir told me there he had seen,
A holy Cross, and a Font-stone;
The Paroch being twenty myle about,
But hardly sixteen folks remain in it,
All the Corn I have seen there in a year,
Was scarce the sowing of six Firlots of Bear;
And for Neighbours to come with good will,
There was no Corn to grind into that Mill,
If Heather-tops had been Meal of the best,
Then Buckcleugh-mill had gotten a noble grist
Now wearied Muse to rest thou may resort,
Whilst I alitle Prose report.

The Lands of Buckcleugh they did possess,
Three hundred years ere they had writ or wax;
And since that time that they a Right did rear,
It's said to be from King Robert the third, call'd John Fern-year.

Now follows the several Places of Residence of the Family of Buckcleugh.

Now my Jocking Muse assist my Rhyme compleat,
I'm drown'd in Prose since thou lay down to sleep;
Thy Journey's long, and so thou must not stay,
We'l take some part of Tweddale in our way;
The Barrony of Eward was Buckcleughs share,
And yet they are Supperior,
Over Eward and neither Eward was in the Barrony,
With Kirk-Eward, Lady-Eward and Lock-Eward, all three;
These Towns most sweet surround a pleasant Hill,
And Scotstoun-hall doth joyn unto them still.
It was call'd Scotstoun-hall when Buckcleugh in it did dwell,
Unto this time it is call'd Scotstoun still:
It was in Kirk-Eward-paroch then,
But now it's in the Paroch of Lintoun,
There is three Towers in it was mounted high,
And each of them had their own entry,
A Sally-door did enter on,
Which serv'd all three, and no man kend,
When Buckcleugh at Scots-hall kept his house,

Then Peebles-Church was his Burial-place,
In the Cross-Kirk there has buried been
Of the Lairds of Buckcleugh, either six or seven;
There can none say but it's two hundred year
Since any of them was buried there,
The Earls of Hamiltoun and Dowglass,
To brave Buckcleugh shewed great kindness,
Their kindness with him did prevail,
That he must live near them in Clidsdail,
Scots-hall he left standing alone,
And went to live at Mordistoun;
And there a brave House he did rear,
Which to this time it doth appear;
Several Ages after, he did these Lands excamb,
With Inglis that was the Laird of Branksom,
And since that time I can mak't appear,
It's near two hundred and fifty year,
That Familie they still were valiant men,
No Baron was better served into Britain,
The Barons of Buckcleugh they kept at their call,
Four and twenty Gentlemen in their Hall,
All being of his Name and Kin,
Each two had a Servant to wait on them,
Before Supper and Dinner most renown'd,
The Bells rung and the Trumpets sounded,
And more than that I do confess,
They kept four and twenty Pensioners,
Think not I lie, or do me blame,
For the Pensioners I can all name,
There's men alive elder than I,
They know if I speak truth or ly,
Ev'ry Pensioner a Room did gain,
For Service done and to be done,

This I'le let the Reader understand,
The name of both the Men and Land,
Which they possess'd it is of truth,
Both from the Lairds and Lords Buckleugh;
But now, my Muse, I'le give it in thy chose,
Stay or go sleep, for I must write in Prose.

Now lest you should think that I flatter, or am a liar; I will nominate the Lands, and where they ly, for the justification of my self.

Awake, awake, my Muse, and me aver,
To give a just account of that Joynture,
To the Piel and Hathern I will repair,
To Analshope and Glengeber,
To Whitup and to Black-grain,
To Commonside, and Milsanton-hill,
And Eilridge is left all alone,
Except some Town Lands in Lanton,
Now, my Muse, to the East-country go we,
And talk of Eckfoords Baronie,
Which Barony she none did miss,
But all into her Joynture was,
In Cumulo I do declare,
It's above twenty thousand merks a year,
It was a worthy Conjunct-fee,
For a Knight to give to his Lady,
That worthy House when they were but Gentrie,
Exceeded far some of Nobilitie;
O cursed Helena that the Trojans did confound,
And laid Troys pleasant Walls flat on the Ground,
Her Daughter had not match'd with Priamus race,
But her Mothers perswasion made her him imbrace;
Thirty Lairds and Lords its said hath been,
All of Buckcleugh, yet it is uncertain;
Yet I believe it may be true,
I've seen four my self, and that I'le avow,
The nine last Generations I declare,
Both whom they Married, and who they were;
At Sir Arthur Scot we begin,

In's time he was the Kings Warden,
A valiant Sp'rit for Chivalrie,
Married Lord Somervels Daughter of Cowdalie,
Sir Walter his Son did him succeed,
Whom the Borders both did fear and dread,
He was still fourty men when ever he rade,
He married with Dowglas of Drumlanrig,
Their Procreation remains unto this time,
The last honourable second brother, that of that Familie came,
From that marriage Robert of Allan-haugh sprung,
It's near two hundred years agone,
And since that time it's known to be of truth,
There was ne're a lawful Brother married from Buckcleugh,
The more we may repent, and sigh and groan,
That they'r so Phænix like still but one,
Sir William Scot was Sir Walter's eldest Son,
And in his Heritage he did succeed to him,
A valiant Knight, and of much renown,
He Married with the honourable house of Hume,
His Son Sir Walter, that durst have shown his face,
To him that was as stout as Hercules,
He was inclin'd to Blood, as was rehearst,
He was married to Ker of Ferni-harst,
To Venus her Sister, he married again,
A beautiful Creature Dame Janet Beaton;
Sir William Scot of Branksom call'd White-cloak,
He was son to Buckcleugh, call'd wicked Wat,
As Fortune smil'd or frown'd,
Content that Worthy was,
He married a Sister of the House of Angus,
The good Lord Walter was Sir William's Son,
The better in Tiviot-dale shall never come,

For Valour, Wisdom, Friendship, Love and Truth,
He married Ker a Sister of Roxburgh,
Earl Walter was Lord Walter's Son,
A Mars for Valour, Wisdom and Renown,
His Courage durst a Lyon fear,
His Frowns would terrifi'd a Boar,
He married a sister of Errol,
Earl Francis his Father, Earl Walter did succeed,
Into his Earldom, but not to his Head;
Yet he wanted neither hand, head, nor heart,
But could not Act like to his Fathers part;
His Fathers Acts were all Military,
And he was much inclin'd to study,
His Father scorn'd to suffer a stain,
Neither of himself, nor of his Name;
With the House of Rothes married he,
An equal Match by Antiquitie;
She was but the relict of such a one,
The Son of a start-up Souldier new come home.
I have been through Scotland, Holland, and Sweden,
Yet ne're heard of a Gentleman in all his Kin,
Except one Switzer, which did verifie,
He was Bacchus Nevoy, the Uncle of Brandy;
That worthy Earl was soon by death assail'd,
'Gainst whom no mortal ever yet prevail'd;
He had no Heirs-male, but Daughters left behind,
For to enjoy his great Earldom and Land;
These Infants sweet left to their Guardians to keep,
Their Tutors oft suffered controul,
Their Mother was so impudent,
That she must alwayes have her intent;
The eldest Lady, I confess, she was not able for a man,

With Earl Tarras she did VVedd, it was by perswasion of her Dame,
Alas, she liv'd not very long,
There was no Procreation them between;
I wish to God there had been a Son,
It had been better for all poor Friends;
The Countes Sister did her succeed,
Then her Mother to London by Coach did hie,
And search't her a Husband beyond the Sea.
A pretty youth, and of High-birth,
By the Name of Graves that Boy did pass,
One Mr Ross his Pedagogue was,
In France, in Holland, and in Flanders,
When the truth was known, and the Lad fetcht home,
King Charles the second's bastard he prov'd to be,
And I believe his Maiden-head, he begat him young on Mrs Barly,
A prety Lady, I have her seen,
And very gallant in her time;
Sir Thomas Barly was her Sire,
A Knight that dwelt in Devonshire,
And after the Restauration,
When Charles the second came to his home,
The Weyms Countess, and her Daughter young,
At London stay'd, and the Youth fetch'd home,
James Scot he was call'd all along,
Which did continue certain moneths,
And then to Windsor did return,
Where he was made Duke of Monmouth;
King Edwards Badge he got, the Order of the Garter,
Perform'd with great Solemnity, and then to London did repair,
His Nuptial-day did then drew near.
To Charing Cross he did resort,
The King and Duke Royal did come there;

And most Nobles of the Court,
A most proper man he in time became,
As in any Princes Court was seen,
Ten thousand hearts they may lament,
That ever he should a Rebel been;
A Rebel he was in his time,
And did the Nation much perplex;
At his Invasion he was tane,
And his Head cut off with an ax:
In England now the Dutches Dwells,
Which to her Friends is a cursed Fate,
For if they Famish, Starve, or dy,
They cannot have a groat from that Estate.
The times of Old are quite forgot,
How Inferior Friends had still relief,
And how the worthiest of the Name,
Engadged themselves to hold up their Chief,
And in requital of their Love,
His Honor took of them such pain,
They never went unto the Law,
'Gainst one another at any time,
In whose case or cause soever it was,
Debts, Riots or Possessions,
Their Chief he was immediat Judge,
The Lawyers got nought of them;
Times have been very troublesome;
Since these Rebellions first began,
Which was then but fourty eight years agone,
And then our Chief he was but young,
In the five and twenty year of's age,
In the year of Grace fifty and two,
He rendered up his Steward-ship,

And had no Issue, but Females two;
And as Dalila with Sampson dealt,
When she cry'd, the Philistines are thee upon,
Such cruel Despight, Strife and Debat,
Remain into some bad VVomen;
She's like a Gardo countenane'd like Bendo,
Cunning as Nilo peeping through a window,
Which put the wandring Jew in such amazment,
Seeing such a face look through the casement;
When Lora a Bull long nourished in Cocitus,
VVith Sulphur-horns sent by the Emperor Titus,
Asked a stegmatick peribestan question,
If Alexander ever lived Physician,
VVhen Helen was for Priamus Son a Mate,
From Greece by Paru and his Band,
VVhich caus'd the Greeks the Trojan minds abate:
Some curs't the Boyes, and other some them ban'd:
The strumpet Queen, which brought the burning Brand,
That Helen fir'd, and wrak'd old Priamus Race;
And on their Names long living shame did brand
For head-strong lust runs an unbounded race;
This beauteous piece whose feature radiant blaze,
Made Mænelaus horn mad war to wadge,
And set all Troy in a combustious bleeze,
VVhose ten years triumphs scarce was worth their wage,
For all their Conquests, and their battering Rams,
Their leaders most return'd with heads like Rams,
Lo thus the burden of adulterous guilt,
A shoring vengeance Troy, and Trojans saw,
No Age, nor Sect, no Beauty, Gold nor Guilt,
VVithstood foretold Cassandrias secret fall;
She often said, false Helens beauteous blast,

Should be the cause, this mighty Grecians Power,
Their Names and Fames with Infamy should blast,
And how the gods on them would vengeance pour,
But poor Cassandra prophesied in vain,
The clamorous cryes were to the sensles Rocks,
The youths of Troy in mirry scornful Vein,
Securely sleeps, whilst Lust the Cradle rocks,
Till bloody burning Indignation come,
And all their mirth with Mourning overcome;
Yet great's the Glory in the Noble Mind,
Where Life and Death are equal in respect,
If Fates be good or bad, unkind or kind,
Not proud in Freedom, nor in Thral deject,
With Courage scorning Fortunes worst effect,
In spitting in foul Envyes cankered face,
True honor thus doth baser thoughts subject,
Esteeming Life a Slave, that serves disgrace,
Foul abject thoughts become the mind that's base,
That deems there is no better life than this,
Or after death doth fear a worser place,
VVhere guilt is payed the Guardian of a Miss;
But let swoln Envy swell untill she burst,
The noble mind defyes her, do her worst,
The vulgar sort with open port
Said, the Scot had much renown,
That their Heretrix was intermixt,
VVith a Bastard of the Crown.
King James the fifth his bastard Son
VVas of as much regard,
He married Buckcleugh's Relict
He being but a Laird.
The bastard got into Scotland,

Was never of such renown,
To prosper as the English do,
They oft usurp their Crown;
King Arthur of the round Table,
Begotten was in Adultery;
And so was both King Edelstoun,
And William of Normandie,
But Scotlands loyal Nobility
Is of a more rare degree,
Nor suffer any Bastard seed
To claim Soveraignity.
Since the first Fergus began
To King James the seventh,
We have had none but twain,
Of Bastards that usurp'd the Crown,
And short while they did Reign:
Gillis the Tyrant he was one,
King Evenus the first Bastard-son,
Codallus of Galloway cut him off.
In the second year of's Reign;
Duncan the second usurp'd the Crown,
Malcolm the third his Bastard-son,
But from an Usurper he did it gain,
Which was from wicked Donald the seventh.
Mackpender, then of Merns the Thane,
An Earl of high renown,
He brought King Duncan to his end,
Nine Months after he was crown'd.
The Bastard Kings of Scotland then
Had but small Prosperity,
And for the future I hope none,
In Scotland shall ever be;

Then Edgar the just and lawful King,
Upon his Throne was set,
And anointed of Dunkels Bishop,
Whose name was Mr. John Scot.
Of Bastards I will speak no more,
Since I declar'd the truth,
My purpose now is to return,
And speak of bold Buckcleugh.

That worthy valiant Son of Mars,
That most illustrious one,
The United-Provinces him should blaze
To Ages that's to come:
The year and time I must exprime,
That from Holland came he,
The Sixteen hundred and thirty three,
At London he did die;
In November Month to speak the truth,
It was our woful fate,
To the Bier many Friends came,
To see him ly in State,
The Nobles of the Court repair'd,
Clad in their sable Weed,
And Country-men in Flocks came in,
To see's Herse when he was dead;
Patrick Scot then of Thirlston,
A worthy Gentleman,
He took the care of all Affairs,
Caus'd his Corps to be imbalm'd,
All being done that wit of man,
Could do or understand,
Then a Ship he fraughted on the Thames,
To bring him to Scotland,

The Ship did fall the River down,
And Greenwich did obey.
Then to Gravesend they did come,
And two days there did stay;
When Wind and Tide they both apply'd,
And hois'd their Sails on hie,
Thirlston came aboard himself,
Ere they reach'd Tilburie,
From once they past by the Lands-end,
The Storm did rise so high,
For three Months time they liv'd in pain,
Sore toil'd upon the Sea,
They were almost sunk, yet sav'd the Ship at last,
Their Sails into the shallow Seas were cast,
Yet anchor'd safely and did remain,
Whilst they did put to Sea again:
Then 'mongst their old acquaintance storm and flaws,
Each Moment near to Death's devouring jaws,
The weary day they past through many fears,
Landed at last quite sunk o're head and ears,
All famish'd, starv'd, like silly Rats all drown'd;
From succour far they left their Ship on ground,
Cast out their Water, whilst they poorly drapt,
And up and down to dry themselves they hapt;
Thus they their weary Pilgrimage did wear,
Expecting for the Weather calm and clear:
Then madly, yet study out to the Sea they thrust,
'Gainst Winds and Storms so hie,
By Prignal hidden Rocks which hidden ly,
Ten Mile within the Sea, some wet, some dry,
There they supposed their danger most of all,
If they upon these ragged Rocks should fall:

But Sol, that old continual Traveller,
From Titan can amount his flaming Car,
The Weather kept his course with fire, hail and rage,
Without appearance that it would e're aswage,
Whilst they did pass these hills, dails and downs,
Every moment they looked to be drown'd,
The Wind still blowing, and the Sea so hie,
As if the lofty Waves would kiss the Skie,
That many times they wish'd with all their hearts,
Their Ship were sunk, and they in Landward Carts,
Or any part to keep them safe and dry,
The Water raged so outragiously;
For it is said, since memory of man,
Or since Winds and Seas to ebb and flow began,
No man can mind of such stormy Weather,
And continual Rage so long together;
Thirteen long Weeks that many thought,
The Wind blew South and South-west,
And rais'd the Sea each Wave above another,
Of fair and calm Weather not an hour together,
And whither they did go by Sun or Moon,
Either by Midnight or by Noon;
The Sun did rise with most suspicious face,
Of foul forbidding VVeather purple red,
His radiant tincture East-north-east were spread;
In Norway by Slewgates antient Castle,
Against rugged Rocks and VVaves they tug'd,
The Moon and Stars were covered under Cloud,
By Rubnie and by Rubnie-marsh,
The Tide against them, and the VVind was harsh,
'Twixt Eolus and Neptune there was such strife;
That men never saw such VVeather in their life,

Tost and retost, retost and tost again,
With rumbling and tumbling on the rowling Main,
The boisterous breaking Billows of the curl'd Locks,
Did impetuously beat against the Rocks,
The wind, which like a Horse, whose wind is broke,
Blew thick and short, that they were almost choack'd,
As it outragiously the Billows waves,
The gust like dust blown in the brimish waves,
And thus the Wind and Seas these boysterous gods,
Fell by the ears stark mad at furious odds,
There Stalward Ships turmoild 'twixt Shoars and Seas,
Aloft, or Low, as Storms and Floods did please,
Sometimes upon a foaming mountain top,
Whose hight did seem the heav'n to under-prop,
Then straight to such prophanity they fell,
As if they div'd into the depths of Hell,
The Clouds, like ryp Apostoms burst and showr'd,
Their matt'ry, watry substance Head-long pour'd,
Yet though all things were mutable and fickle,
They all agreed to sauce them in a pickle;
Of water fresh and salt from seas and skyes,
Which with our sweat joyned in triplicity,
Bright Phœbus hid his golden head with fear,
Not daring to behold the dangers there;
Whilst in that strait and exigent they stand,
They see and wish to land, yet durst not land,
Like rowling hills the billows beat and roar,
Against the melancholy benchy Shoar,
That if they landed, neither strength nor wit,
Could save their Ship from being sunk or split;
To keep the sea straight puffing Æolus breath,
Did threaten still to blow them unto death,

The waves amain oft boarded them,
Whilst they almost six hours did there remain,
On every side with danger and distress,
Resolv'd to run a Shoar a dungeonness,
There stood some thirteen Cottages together,
To shelter poor Fisher-men from wind and weather;
And there some people were, as they supposed,
As though the doors and windows were all closed,
They near the Land, into the Sea soon lap,
To see what people there these houses kept;
They knockt and call'd at each from house to house,
But found no Mankind-form, Cat, Rat, nor Mouse,
These news all sad, and comfortless and cold,
Amongst the Crew it presently was told,
Assuring them, the best way they did think,
Was to leave their Ship, whether she split or sink,
Resolved thus, they altogether please
To put her Head to Shoar, and her Stern to Seas;
They leaping over-board amidst the Sea,
Almost desperat whether to live or dy,
Then from top to toe they strend,
Pluckt off their shirts, and then them wring'd,
Till Wind and Sun their want supply'd,
And made both out-side and in-side dry'd,
Two miles from thence a silly town there stood,
To which they went to bring some food:
The Town did shew their pity, but for what?
They made them pay triple for what they got,
But what they got Thirleston stood not for to pay double;
But these peasants made him to pay twice triple,
Because these Harbours where their Ship rod still,
Belong'd to men which in that Town did dwell,

At Thirlston's request they did send a man,
To possess the Crew in that hospitable Den,
With a brazen Kettle, and a wooden Dish,
To serve their need, and dress their flesh and fish:
Then from the fleshers they brought Lamb and Sheep,
Ale from the Ostler-house, and besoms for to sweep;
Their Cottage for want of usage was moisty,
Myrish, sluggish and dusty,
There twenty days they did roast, boil and broil,
And toyl and moyle, and keep a noble coyle:
For only they kept open house alone,
And he that wanted Beef, might eat a Stone,
Their Grand-dame Earth with beds did all befriend them;
And bountifully all their lengths did lend them;
That laughing, or else lying down did make,
Their backs and sides sore, and their ribs to ake;
Mean time in the Town Thirlston did remain;
His Lodging was litle better than them:
On Saturnday the winds did seem to cease,
And brawling Seas began to hold their peace:
Then they like tennents, beggarly and poor,
Intended to leave the key beneath the door:
But that the Land-lord did that shift prevent,
Who came in pudding-time and took his Rent:
Then Thirlston came before the Sun was peeping,
They lanch'd to sea, and left their house keeping,
When presently they saw the drifting skyes,
Grin pout and lowr and winds and seas 'gain ryse,
Countrey-men wish Thirlston go by Land,
To a Harbour that was near at hand;
The name of it was Fresenbered,
And there their Ship might by report, be reared:

But their council was not worth a Plack,
He'd never leave the Ship, to ride on horses back;
Yet Fortune brought them to the Harbour there,
Where that their Ship they somewhat did repair,
And then to Sea, with mounted sails on hie,
They bound for Scotland, and left Norway:
There was but small amendment all that time,
The weather was much in one kind.
The wind and weather plaid on each so wild,
As if they meant not to be reconcil'd;
She, whilst they leapt upon these liquid hills,
Where Purpoises did shew their Phins and Gills:
Yet after that both water, wind and seas,
And a pleasant Gale blew from the North North-east,
Æolus and Neptun privat, and no way brief;
By providence they did arrive at Leith.
That troublesome toilsome Journey, to be brief,
Fifteen weeks was between London and Leith.
To all Ages it should ne're be forgot,
The pains that Patrick Scot of Thirlston took.
Æneas on Anchises he took pains enough,
But Patrick Scot he took more of the Earl of Buckcleugh;
All that men can do, when Princes do command,
Their Loyalty to show, and venture Life and Land:
I have known many on Buckcleughs means was bred,
Yet one night, from home, they never lay from Bed.

The End of the first Part.

University of Virginia Library

1. [Part First.]

To the Right Honourable, and Generous Lord, JOHN Lord YESTER,

Appearand Earl of TWEDDALE; Son to Jean Countess of Tweddale, who was Daughter to that Valiant Lord, Walter Earl of Buckcleugh, Your Honours worthy Grand-Father.

A True History of several Honourable Families of the Right Honourable Name of Scot, &c.

Now I leave the Familie, aud return again to brave Lord Walter, and his Son Walter Earl in Scotland, where these worthy Lords were born.

Here follows how the Lord Buckcleugh affronts the Lord Scroup, first by Letters, and then by taking him prisoner out of the Castle of Carlisle by a Stratagem.

Buckcleughs Speech.

The Queens Answer.

Now follows the Antiquity of the Name of Scot.

Now follows the several Places of Residence of the Family of Buckcleugh.

Now lest you should think that I flatter, or am a liar; I will nominate the Lands, and where they ly, for the justification of my self.