An aged knight to danger steeled,

With many a mosstrooper came on; And azure in a golden field,

The stars and crescent graced his shield,

Without the bend of Murdieston-Ver. 9, p. 81.

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1. The family of Harden are descended from a younger son of the laird of Buccleuch, who flourished before the estate of Murdieston was acquired by the marriage of one of those chieftains with the heiress in 1296. Hence they bear the cognizance of the Scotts upon the field; whereas those of the Buc cleuch are disposed upon a bend dexter, assumed in consequence of that marriage. See GLANDSTAINE, of Whitelaw's MSS. and SCOTT of Stokoes Pedigree, Newcastle 1783.

Walter Scott of Harden, who flourished during the reign of queen Mary, was a renowned Border freebooter, concerning whom tradition has preserved a variety of anecdotes, some of which have been published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and others in LEYDEN's Scenes of Infancy. The bugle

horn, said to have been used by this formidable leader, is preserved by his descendant, the present Mr. Scott of Harden. His castle was situated upon the very brink of a dark and precipitous dell, through which a scanty rivulet steels to meet the Bothwick. In the recess of this glen he is said to have kept his

spoil, which served for the daily maintenance of his retainers, until the production of a pair of clean spurs, in a covered dish, announced to the hungry band, that they must ride for a supply of provisions. He was married to Mary Scott, daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, and called in song the Flower of Yarrow. He possessed a very extensive estate, which was divided among his five sons. There are numerous, descendants of this old marauding baron. The following beautiful passage of LEYDEN'S Scenes of Infancy is founded on a tradition respecting an infant captive, whom Walter of Harden carried off in a predatory incursion, and who is said to have become the author of some of our most beautiful pastoral songs.

Where Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with sand, Rolls her red tide to Teviot's western strand,

Thro' slaty hills, whose sides are shagg'd with thorn,
Where springs in scattered tufts the dark green corn,
Towers wood-girt Harden, far above the vale,

And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets sail ;'
A hardy race, who never shrunk from war,
The Scott, to rival realms a mighty bar,
Here fixed his mountain-home; a wide domain,
And rich the soil, had purple heath been grain;
But, what the niggard ground of wealth denied,
From fields more blessed his fearless arm supplied

The waning harvest-moon shone cold and bright; The warder's horn was heard at dead of night; And, as the massy portals wide were flung, With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung. What fair, half-veiled, leans from her latticed hall, Where red the wavering gleams of torch-light fail? 'Tis Yarrow's fairest Flower, who, through the gloom, Looks, wistful, for her lover's dancing plume, Amid the piles of spoil, that strewed the ground, Her ear, all anxious, caught a wailing sound; With trembling haste the youthful matron flew, And from the hurried heaps an infant drew: Scared at the light his little hands he flung Around her neck, and to her bosom clung; While beauteous Mary soothed, in accents mild, His fluttering soul, and clasped her foster child. Of milder mood the gentle captive grew,

Nor loved the scenes that scared his infant view,
In vales remote, from camps and castles far,
He shunned the fearful shuddering joy of war;
Content the loves of simple swains to sing,

Or wake to fame the harp's heroic string.

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His are the strains, whose wandering echoes thrill The shepherd, lingering on the twilight hill,

When evening brings the merry folding hours,
And sun-eyed daisies close their winking flowers.

He lived, o'er Yarrow's Flower to shed the tear,
To strew the holly's leaves o'er Harden's bier;
But none was found above the Minstrel's tomb,
Emblem of peace, to bid the daisy bloom:
He, nameless as the race from which he sprung,
Saved other names and left his own unsung.

The camp their home, their law the sword,
They knew no country, owned no lord.

Verse 15, p. 85.

The mercenary adventurers, whom, in 1380, the earl of Cambridge carried to the assistance of the king of Portugal against the Spaniards, mutinied for want of regular pay. At an assembly of their leaders, Sir John Soltier, a natural son of Edward the Black Prince, thus addressed them: "I counsayle, let us be alle of one alliaunce, and of one accorde, and let us among ourselves reyse up the baner of St. George, and let us be friends to God, and enemyes to alle the worlde; for without we make ourself to be feared, we gette nothynge." "By my fayth," quod Sir William Helmon, "ye saye ryght well, and so lette us do." They alle agreed with one voyce, and so regarded among them who shulde be their capitayne. Then they advysed in the case how they coude nat have a better capitayne than Sir Joha Soltier. For they suide than have good leyser

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to do yvell, and they thought he was more metelyer thereto than any other. Then they reysed up the penon of St. George, and cried, "A Soltier! A Soltier! the valyaunt bastarde! frendes to God, and enemies to all the worlde!" FROISSART, vol. į ch. 393.

A gauntlet on a spear.-Ver. 18, p. 88.

A glove upon a lance was the emblem of faith among the ancient Borderers, who were wont, when any one broke his word, to expose this emblem, and proclaim him a faithless villain at the first Border meeting. This ceremony was much dreaded. See: LESLEY.

We claim from thee William of Deloraine,
That he may suffer march-treason pain.-
Verse 21, p. 90.

Several species of offences, peculiar to the Border, constituted what was called march-treason. Among others was the crime of riding, or causing to ride, against the opposite country during the time of truce. Thus, in an indenture made at the water of Eske, beside Salom, the 25th day of March, 1384, betwixt noble lords and mighty, Sirs Henry Percy, earl of Northumberland, and Archibald of Douglas, lord of Galoway, a truce is agreed upon until the 1st day of