Part 15 (1/2)
”O hold your tongue, my hinny and my heart, O hold your tongue, my dearie; For I will swear by the moon and the stars That thy lord shall nae mair come near thee.”
They wandered high, they wandered low, They wandered late and early, Until they came to that wan water, And by this time she was weary.
”Aften I have rode that wan water, And my Lord Ca.s.silis beside me; And now I must set in my white feet, and wade, And carry the Gipsy laddie.”
By-and-by came home this n.o.ble lord, And asking for his ladie; The one did cry, the other did reply, ”She is gone with the Gipsy laddie.”
”Go, saddle me the black,” he says, ”The brown rides never so speedie; And I will neither eat nor drink Till I bring home my ladie.”
He wandered high, he wandered low, He wandered late and early, Until he came to that wan water, And there he spied his ladie.
”O wilt thou go home, my hinny and my heart, O wilt thou go home, my dearie; And I will close thee in a close room Where no man shall come near thee.”
”I will not go home, my hinny and heart, I will not come, my dearie; If I have brewn good beer, I will drink of the same, And my lord shall nae mair come near me.
”But I will swear by the moon and the stars, And the sun that s.h.i.+nes sae clearly, That I am as free of the Gipsy gang As the hour my mother did bear me.”
They were fifteen valiant men, Black, but very bonny, And they all lost their lives for one, The Earl of Ca.s.silis' ladie.
[160] I beg the reader to take particular notice of this circ.u.mstance.
A Scotch rabble is the lowest and meanest of all rabbles, at such work as this. In their eyes, it was unpardonable that Lady Anstruther, or ”Jenny Faa,” should have been of Gipsy origin; but it would have horrified them, had they known the meaning of her ladys.h.i.+p ”being of Gipsy origin,” and that she doubtless ”chattered Gipsy,” like others of her tribe.--ED.
Tradition states that John Faa, the leader of a band of Gipsies, seizing the opportunity of the Earl of Ca.s.silis' absence, on a deputation to the a.s.sembly of divines at Westminster, in 1643, to ratify the solemn league and covenant, carried off the lady. The Earl was considered a sullen and ill-tempered man, and perhaps not a very agreeable companion to his lady.[161]
[161] See page 108.--ED.
Before proceeding to give an account of the modern Gipsies on the Scottish Border, I shall transcribe an interesting note which Sir Walter Scott gave to the public, in explaining the origin of that singular character Meg Merrilies, in the novel Guy Mannering. The ill.u.s.trious author kindly offered me the ”sc.r.a.ps” which he had already given to Blackwood's Magazine, to incorporate them, if I chose, in my history of the Gipsies; but I prefer giving them in his own words.
”My father,” says Sir Walter, ”remembered Jean Gordon of Yetholm, who had a great sway among her tribe. She was quite a Meg Merrilies, and possessed the savage virtue of fidelity in the same perfection. Having been hospitably received at the farm-house of Lochside, near Yetholm, she had carefully abstained from committing any depredations on the farmer's property. But her sons, (nine in number,) had not, it seems, the same delicacy, and stole a brood-sow from their kind entertainer.
Jean was so much mortified at this ungrateful conduct, and so much ashamed of it, that she absented herself from Lochside for several years. At length, in consequence of some temporary pecuniary necessity, the good-man of Lochside was obliged to go to Newcastle, to get some money to pay his rent. Returning through the mountains of Cheviot, he was benighted, and lost his way. A light, glimmering through the window of a large waste-barn, which had survived the farm-house to which it had once belonged, guided him to a place of shelter; and when he knocked at the door, it was opened by Jean Gordon. Her very remarkable figure, for she was nearly six feet high, and her equally remarkable features and dress, rendered it impossible to mistake her for a moment; and to meet with such a character, in so solitary a place, and probably at no great distance from her clan, was a terrible surprise to the poor man, whose rent, (to lose which would have been ruin to him,) was about his person.
Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition. 'Eh, sirs! the winsome gude-man of Lochside! Light down, light down; for ye manna gang farther the night, and a friend's house sae near!' The farmer was obliged to dismount, and accept of the Gipsy's offer of supper and a bed. There was plenty of meat in the barn, however it might be come by, and preparations were going on for a plentiful supper, which the farmer, to the great encrease of his anxiety, observed was calculated for ten or twelve guests of the same description, no doubt, with his landlady. Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She brought up the story of the stolen sow, and noticed how much pain and vexation it had given her.
Like other philosophers, she remarked that the world grows worse daily, and, like other parents, that the bairns got out of her guiding, and neglected the old Gipsy regulations which commanded them to respect, in their depredations, the property of their benefactors. The end of all this was an enquiry what money the farmer had about him, and an urgent request that he would make her his purse-keeper, as the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon home. The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and surrendered his gold to Jean's custody.
She made him put a few s.h.i.+llings in his pocket; observing it would excite suspicion should he be found travelling altogether penniless.
This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down on a sort of _shake-down_, as the Scotch call it, upon some straw; but, as is easily to be believed, slept not. About midnight the gang returned with various articles of plunder, and talked over their exploits, in language which made the farmer tremble. They were not long in discovering their guest, and demanded of Jean whom she had got there. 'E'en the winsome gude-man of Lochside, poor boy,' replied Jean; 'he's been at Newcastle, seeking siller to pay his rent, honest man, but deil-be-licket he's been able to gather in; and sae he's gaun e'en hame wi' a toom purse and a sair heart.' 'That may be, Jean,' replied one of the banditti, 'but we maun ripe his pouches a bit, and see if it be true or no.' Jean set up her throat in exclamation against this breach of hospitality, but without producing any change of their determination. The farmer soon heard their stifled whispers and light steps by his bed-side, and understood they were rummaging his clothes. When they found the money which the prudence of Jean Gordon had made him retain, they held a consultation if they should take it or not; but the smallness of the booty, and the vehemence of Jean's remonstrances, determined them on the negative. They caroused, and went to rest. So soon as day dawned, Jean roused her guest, produced his horse, which she had accommodated behind the _hallan_, and guided him for some miles, till he was on the high-road to Lochside. She then restored his whole property, nor could his earnest entreaties prevail on her to accept so much as a single guinea.
”I have heard the old people at Jedburgh say that all Jean's sons were condemned to die there on the same day. It is said the jury were equally divided, but that a friend of justice, who had slept during the whole discussion, waked suddenly, and gave his vote for condemnation, in the emphatic words: 'Hang them a'.' Jean was present, and only said, 'The Lord help the innocent in a day like this.' Her own death was accompanied with circ.u.mstances of brutal outrage, of which poor Jean was, in many respects, wholly undeserving. Jean had, among other demerits, or merits, as you may choose to rank it, that of being a staunch Jacobite. She chanced to be at Carlisle, upon a fair or market day, soon after the year 1746, where she gave vent to her political partiality, to the great offence of the rabble in that city. Being zealous in their loyalty when there was no danger, in proportion to the tameness with which they had surrendered to the Highlanders, in 1745, they inflicted upon poor Jean Gordon no slighter penalty than that of ducking her to death in the Eden. It was an operation of some time, for Jean was a stout woman, and, struggling with her murderers, often got her head above water; and, while she had voice left, continued to exclaim, at such intervals, 'Charlie yet! Charlie yet!'
”When a child, and among the scenes which she frequented, I have often heard these stories, and cried piteously for poor Jean Gordon.
”Before quitting the Border Gipsies, I may mention that my grandfather, riding over Charter-house moor, then a very extensive common, fell suddenly among a large band of them, who were carousing in a hollow of the moor, surrounded by bushes. They instantly seized on his horse's bridle, with many shouts of welcome, exclaiming, (for he was well known to most of them,) that they had often dined at his expense, and he must now stay, and share their good-cheer. My ancestor was a little alarmed, for, like the good man of Lochside, he had more money about his person than he cared to venture with into such society. However, being a bold, lively man, he entered into the humour of the thing, and sate down to the feast, which consisted of all the different varieties of game, poultry, pigs, and so forth, that could be collected by a wide and indiscriminate system of plunder. The feast was a very merry one, but my relative got a hint, from some of the elder Gipsies, to retire just when 'The mirth and fun grew fast and furious;' and, mounting his horse, accordingly, he took French leave of his entertainers, but without experiencing the least breach of hospitality. I believe Jean Gordon was at this festival.
”The princ.i.p.al settlements of the Gipsies, in my time, have been the two villages of Easter and Wester Gordon, and what is called Kirk-Yetholm,
Making good the proverb odd, Near the church and far from G.o.d.”
In giving an account of the modern Gipsies on the Scottish Border, I shall transcribe, at full length, the faithful and interesting report of Baillie Smith, of Kelso, which was published in Hoyland's ”Historical Survey of the Gipsies.”