Our making choice of
the Tyne as our next subject of description arises from no attention
to systematic order; neither is it tho result of whim, but simply
because it happens at this moment to be more convenient for us to
deal with it than with any other stream. Our courteous reader must
not imagine that we are about to pilfer a river from our southern
neighbours, and that we are going to describe the boauties of that
which passes Newcastle, and which has so long been remarkable for
the immense cargoes of black diamonds which it has exported from
Shields, its well known frea-port. We cannot say that the colour of
its waters has been much improved by this traffic; as it has
imparted to them no inconsiderable degree of tincture of the colour
of the jewel for which it is famous. Were we disposed to bestow upon
it a soubriquet calculated to distinguish it from our Scottish
river, we should call it the inky Tyne, whilst to that which
meanders through the rich agricultural scenes of East Lothian, we
should very properly apply the epithet of golden, not only from the
colour which the rich soil through which it runs imparts to it, but
from the abundance of those golden harvests which are yielded on its
banks. We must honestly tell you, dear ami, that we have naturally a
strong affection for this river, arising from the circumstance that
we first saw the light of heaven within less than half a mile, as
the crow would fly, of its stream.
The Tyne has its origin from a small lake in Middleton-moor, in the
parish of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian. One of the most interesting
objects in its neighbourhood is the old castle of Cakemuir, which is
still entire and inhabited. Tho most ancient part of it is a square
tower which rises to the height of four stories, and is terminated
by bold projecting battlements surrounding the roof. The date of its
erection is not known, but the immense thickness of the walls and
the style of its architecture would seem to carry it back to a very
early period. Before it was purchased by the present Mr. Mackay of
Blackcastle, it appears to have been in the possession of the
Wauchopes of Cakemuir for at least 300 years. One of the apartments
of the tower is called Queen Mary’s room, she having occupied it
after having escaped, disguised in man’s apparel, from the castle of
Borthwick, when it
was invested, in June 1567, by Lord Hume and his confederates, and
before she went to join her husband Bothwell at Dunbar. As the
surrounding lands form part of the lordship of Crichton, belonging
at that time to Bothwell, the Wauchopes of Cakemuir then stood in
the position of his vassals, and according to the custom of that
age, were designed his servitours or servants. Near the castle of
Cakemuir, there is a sycamore which measures twenty-six and a half
feet in circumference.
The Tyne does not run so near to that very interesting old ruin,
Borthwick Castle, as another stream which forms one of the principal
tributaries to the Esk, and therefore we shall leave that ancient
place of strength for after notice, when we come to describe that
river; but it has its course through a wild pastoral valley, which,
until these days of railway-making, was as retired as philosophic
wanderer or happy lovers could have desired to linger, in. Now it is
in the act of being bestrode by the enormous mounds and gigantic
works of the Hawick railway, and consequently every thing like
romance has been put to flight from its confines. We well remember
its state when we first discovered it in the course of our youthful
wanderings. The course of the stream arbitrarily straying from one
side of the flat bottom to another, and again returning as it
followed its devious windings through the deep alluvial soil of the
valley, marked out by a few ragged alders and well-grown hollies
here and there, and fringed with reeds and sedges, from which we
often disturbed the lonely water-hen, or the little black ouzel,
which, flitting before us, and alighting on some thin gravel bed,
eyed us with curious jealousy ere he again pursued his flight.
Little bosky thickets of hazel, blackthorn, and birch, showed
themselves here and there, affording agreeable features in the
scone; and these were hung in greater abundance upon tho steep banks
by which it was on all sides enclosed, and from these some tall,
cleanskinned young ashes shot up now and then, giving agreeable
variety to the whole. When the sunshine of a summer’s day gladdened
this simple little glen, with its cheerful rays, and when the
feathered inhabitants of these little sylvan retreats came forth to
unite their melodious voices together, he who could have passed
through it without having his feelings exalted above the mere things
of this earth, must indeed have been held to be as one of the
inanimate clods of the valley. It was not in such an inert state of
mind as this that, some years ago, we had our last ramble through
this glen; but then indeed we had with us a companion whose
conversation was enough to throw charms over the most uninteresting
scene in nature, and whose intellectual observation was calculated
to catch at and observe every, even the minutest of nature’s
beauties, who saw all things with tho poet’s eye, and whose glowing
language gave the brightest colouring to every thing we beheld. Oh,
what a delightful day that was! We might, indeed, leave our reader
to guess at the name of the highly-gifted individual to whom wo are
now alluding, and if we did so, we have little doubt in our own
minds that he would fix upon it correctly. But why should we
hesitate to say that our companion was Professor Wilson, whose
society made this one of the most charming rambles we ever had in
our lives?
But of all times and seasons for visiting this simple valley in the
mood of contemplation, none can be so happily chosen as a fine warm
evening in the month of July, immediately after the sun has left the
horizon, for then every bank and brae is lighted up with the most
beautiful and minute illumination. This arises from the immense
number of glow-worms that are bred among the thick herbage of the
glen. Nothing can be more beautiful and interesting than to watch
the progress of these tiny little torch-bearers, and it is
impossible for the fanciful mind to regard them without supposing
that the gay and merry groupes of the fairy-folk are following in
their wake. It is worthy of remark, that as July is the month during
which these appearances are most brilliant, they are likewise to be
found throughout the month of August, but disappearing towards the
end of it, they are not to be seen till next year.
During the crispy days of winter when the breeze blew fresh against
the cheek, gently invigorating the whole man, how heart-inspiring it
was to follow our friend Will Williamson when the hounds were
threading the maze of the bottom in full cry after the fox, rousing
every echo in succession as they swept along with their heads
breast-high, the red coats seen flashing and sparkling through the
thickets on either side, and all nature wearing an appearance of
gladsome gaiety in unison with the sport. It was upon one of these
occasions that old Reynard being hard pressed doubled back, and
taking his course down the glen, made for Crichton Castle, a
magnificent massive ruin, which forms the grand feature in the
landscape, as it rises from a projecting terreplein within about a
hundred yards of the top of the hill on the right bank. At that
time, we believe, the court-yard, which has since been encumbered by
the fall of a large portion of a massive north-eastern tower, was
free from ruins, and it may be conceived how animating was the
effect of this being speedily filled with the pack of hounds and the
whole field of sportsmen. Never, we believe, during all the numerous
assaults which it received in the time long gone by, when it was
liable to be so frequently assailed by enemies, was there such a
clamour heard within these walls. The old fox having cunningly
dodged through divers apartments and long passages, and thus
exciting the hounds to the top of their bent, at last found his way
into a small apartment in the second storey, where there was a
loophole window communicating directly beyond the outer wall. Out of
this he scrambled, and so down the wall to the ground, and out at
the same aperture poured the hounds close at his brush; but then,
there being room for only one hound at a time to pass through the
aperture, they came down in one continued string, exactly like a
waterfall, affording, perhaps, one of the most extraordinary
spectacles that are to be found in the annals of fox-hunting. It may
be easily conceived, however great old Reynard’s taste may have been
for such matters, that he did not, upon this occasion, indulge it by
staying to gaze at this cataract of descending foes; and by putting
forth his best speed, he soon secured his safety by getting to
ground in the neighbouring cover.
The family of Crichton, to which this Castle owed its origin, played
a distinguished part in the history of Scotland. John de Crichton
had a charter of the barony of that name from Robert III. His son,
Sir William de Crichton, appears to have been remarkable in this
respect, that be rose into eminence from his political talents
during an age when the rudeness of the times afforded little
distinction to any one except for warlike achievements. He early
attended the court, being one of the persons despatched to
congratulate James I. on his marriage, and on the king’s return to
Scotland, he became master of the royal household. Three years
afterwards, he was one of the envoys sent to treat for the
establishment of a perpetual peace with Erick, King of Denmark, and
seems ever after to have been the personal favourite of his
sovereign, and to have acted the part of a courtier and minister,
with an address then very unusual in Scotland. In justice to this
statesman, we ought to add, that to be the adherent of the crown
during this period, was, in fact, to be the friend of civil liberty,
and of the free administration of justice. The people, as yet, did
not exist as an order of the state, and the immediate oppressors of
law and freedom were the band of aristocratic nobility, who set the
laws and authority of the sovereign at equal defiance.
After the murder of the King, the Queen fled with her son to place
herself under the protection of Sir William Crichton, who then had
the command of Edinburgh Castle; soon after which he was appointed
Chancellor of the kingdom. Perhaps the greatest blot in his
character was his share in the murder of the young Lord Douglas and
his brother. Certain it is that a great jealousy had arisen of the
increasing power of that family, which was not diminished by the
imperious character of young Douglas himself; but the means taken
for his destruction were treacherous and disgraceful in the extreme
to all the actors in the tragedy, in which Crichton bore so
prominent a part. The young Douglas and his brother having been
invited to Crichton Castle, were treated with great kindness and
hospitality, so much as to lead them, without suspicion, to visit
the Castle of Edinburgh. There the mask was thrown off; they were
seized, and in spite of the entreaties of the young King, they were
subjected to a mock trial, taken to the back court of the castle,
and there executed; their death giving origin to the rude distich
which says—
“Edinborough Castle,
town, and tower,
God grant you sink for sin,
And that even for the black dinoure
Earl Douglas gat therein."
The Douglases being
aroused and enraged by this atrocity on the part of the Chancellor,
attacked the Castle of Crichton, and dismantled it. We do not use
the word demolished, which some historians employ, as we consider
this quite incompatible with its after condition. Crichton
maintained great influence during the greater part of this reign,
and was chosen to go to France to treat for the marriage of the King
with Mary of Gueldres, in consequence of which he was raised to the
rank of Baron Crichton. He was afterwards present as one of the
King’s party in Stirling Castle, when the then Earl of Douglas came
thither, attended by Sir William Lauder of Hatton, on the King's
invitation. James, after having failed by his arguments to persuade
the Earl of Douglas to break his league with the Earls of Ross and
Crawfurd against his sovereign, stabbed him with his dagger, when he
was afterwards dispatched by twenty-six wounds given him by the
king’s adherents, and thrown out of the window into a court yard
below.
Crichton Castle remained in the hands of the Crichtons till the
grandson of the Chancellor William, Lord Crichton, lost his favour
with the King, James III., was banished, and his lands escheated;
when it and some of his other domains were conferred by the King
upon his favourite, Sir John Ramsay, with the title of Lord Bothwell.
This is the individual to whom we have elsewhere alluded as having
been the only one of the King’s favourites who was saved from the
fury of Archibald Bell-the-Cat at Lauder Bridge. As he is one of our
ancestors, we may be excused for mentioning, that after being
compelled to lay down the title of Lord Bothwell, he retired into
private life, and was the origin of the family of Ramsay of Balmain,
which was afterwards lineally represented by the colebrated Sir
Andrew Ramsay, Lord Abbotshall, father-in-law of Lord Fountainhall.
On the death of James III., and consequent disgrace of Ramsay, the
Castle and lands of Crichton were conferred on Patrick Hepburn,
third Lord Hales, who was created Earl of Bothwell. His son, the
second Earl of Bothwell, was killed at Flodden, and is thus noticed
in the English poet, Wober’s poem, called Flodden Field:—
"But on the
Scottish part right proud,
The Earl of Bothwell then outbrast;
And stepping forth with stomach good,
Into the enemy's throng he thrast.
"And I Bothwell, Bothwell!'—cried bold,
To excuse his soldiers to ensue;
But there he oatoht a welcome cold—
The Englishmen straight down him threw.
“Thus Qaburn through his hardy heart—
His fatal fine in conflict found;
Now. all this while, on cither part,
Were dealt full many a deadly wound.”
His son Patrick,
third Earl of Bothwell, to whom the Castle came by descent, was the
father of him so well known as the infamous Earl of Bothwell, from
whom the Castle was taken by the Lords of the Congregation, in
consequence of his having robbed them of 4000 crowns, when on their
way from England to their treasury, as a secret subsidy from Queen
Elizabeth. It was at Crichton Castle Sir John Stewart, her natural
brother, was married in the presence of his sister, Queen Mary.
James VI. afterwards conferred Crichton on Francis Stewart, Earl of
Bothwell, son of the Prior of Coldingham, who was a natural son of
James V. This man afterwards conspired against the King, and was
banished. Crichton Castle then fell into the hands of the Buccleuch
family. Charles I. impolitically assigned it to Francis Stewart, son
of the banished Earl; thus making enemies for himself of the
powerful family of Buccleuch. The extravagance of Stewart soon
caused his lands to fall into the hands of creditors. It was from
his son, who was afterwards a common trooper, and who fought at
Bothwell Bridge, that Sir Walter Scott took his character of
Bothwell in his novel of Old Mortality. After passing through a
variety of hands, Crichton Castle was purchased by Alexander
Callendar, Esq., of Prestonhall, from whom it came into the
possession of Mr. Callendar, the present proprietor.
Like most other Scottish castles, that of Crichton has been built at
various periods; the most ancient part is a comparatively slender
structure, resembling a peal tower, which now occupies tho
north-western angle of the building. This was probably the
stronghold of the Crichtons, before their family was raised to the
eminence it acquired in the days of Sir William Crichton, the
Chancellor. Then it was that the building, partaking of the
prosperity which attended the family, grew to its present extent. It
forms a large and formidable-looking quadrangle, the external
appearance of which shows that it was more adapted for resisting the
tide of war than for pleasing by the beauty of its architecture. But
the buildings facing tho court-yard within display a great deal of
architectural beauty of finish. Those on the north side embrace a
hall of magnificent proportions, and this was approached by a stair
of great grandeur, the soffits of which have been ornamented with
cordage and rosettes carved in freestone. The front of this part of
the building rises over a beautiful piazza, supported by Gothic
columns, where various coats of arms are found in fine preservation.
The pillars themselves have their capitals richly decorated with
anchors entwined with cables; a style of ornament which would lead
us to infer that this part of the building may belong to the time of
tho Earls of Bothwell, who were High-Admirals of Scotland, and the
work may thus be assigned to tho splendour of Earl Patrick, who was
so well known for his taste for magnificence. Above the columns the
stones of the whole face of the wall are cut into diamond facets,
giving to it the richest possible appearance, and which is not, as
we are at present aware, or can recollect, to be found in any other
ancient Scottish building; and when the whole was in a state of
perfect preservation, it must have had a most striking effect. The
kitchen, the size of which is appropriate to the importance of the
building, is in the north-eastern angle of the castle, and is now
much obstructed by the fall of ruins. A large stone chimney in one
of the apartments is generally noticed by those who have described
the castle as being extremely curious, from its lintel being
composed of three stones ingeniously dove-tailed into one another.
But this mode of construction is by no means singular, the same
being to he found in the Castle of Dunnottar and other old Scottish
buildings. The dungeon, which forms an essential part of all old
castles, and which, from its Moorish origin, is called the
Massiemore, is here of great capacity, and is descended into, like
all other places of confinement, by a trap-door in the arch. Sir
Walter Scott tells us that in Scotland, formerly, as still in some
parts of Greece, the great chieftains required, as an acknowledgment
of their authority, that those who passed through their lands should
repair to their castle, to explain the purpose of their journey, and
receive the hospitality suited to their rank. To neglect this was
held discourtesy in the great, and insolence in the inferior
traveller; and so strictly was the etiquette insisted on by some
feudal lords, that the Lord Oliphant is said to have planted guns at
his castle of Newtyle in Angus, so as to command the high road, and
compel all restive passengers to do this act of homage. It chanced
when such ideas were predominant, that the Lord of Crichton Castle
received intelligence that a southern chieftain of high rank, some
say Scott of Buccleach, was to pass his dwelling on his return from
court. Tho Lord Crichton made great preparation to banquet his
expected guest, who, nevertheless, rode past the castle without
paying the expected visit. In his first burst of indignation, the
Baron pursued the discourteous traveller with a body of horse, made
him prisoner, and confined him in the dungeon, while he himself and
his vassals feasted upon tho good cheer which had been provided.
With the morning, however, came reflection, and anxiety for the
desperate feud which impended, as the necessary consequence of his
rough proceeding. It is said, that by way of amende honorable, tho
Baron, upon the second day, placed his compelled guest in his seat
of honour in the hall, while he himself retired into his own
dungeon, and thus did at once penance for his rashness, satisfied
the honour of the stranger chief, and put a stop to the feud which
must otherwise have taken place between them. We beg to remind our
courteous reader, that we have already mentioned another instance of
this custom in the earlier part of our description of the Tweed, as
exemplified by Sir James Tweedie of Drumelzier. It is our belief
that there may have been an outer wall of defence belonging to the
castle, either embracing the chapel, or perhapsleaving it
immediately without the external courtyard so formed by it.
As viewed under its present circumstances, one can form no notion of
what Crichton Castle was in the olden time of its glory. It now
presents four strong war-constructed fronts, having few points of
interest about them, and it stands upon a bare prominence
overhanging the glen, like a solitary sentinel, being devoid of any
very picturesque features in its vicinity. The neighbouring
gunpowder mills at Gore Bridge have devoured even the smallest
bushes on the banks in the shape of charcoal for their manufacture.
Fancy might that curiously imagine it possible that the bough, which
had supported the downy nest of the callow younglings of some
songster of the grove, may have been converted into an explosive
powder which might deprive the wife of her husband, and make orphans
of her children. When the whole glen and its neighbouring country
were covered with wood, and as we may judge from the nature of the
soil, chiefly of oak, it must have borne a very different
appearance. We know that even the whole face of the distant
Lauamermoors must have been covered with timber, and that the
country was filled with animals of chace of all kinds. This we know
from the circumstance that there still exists, on the slope of the
hills, a curious little ruin called, in the language of the country,
Fala Luggie, from the circumstance of its strong resemblance to one
of those wooden ale-stoups, which are vulgarly called by that
appellation. This was a hunting box belonging to the members of the
royal house of Stuart; and when we come to look at its extremely
pitiful dimensions, we are astonished to think that a royal
personage could have even turned himself in its apartments, far less
lodged there during the whole night. But Crichton Castle, when
frowning over its extensive forests, must have had a very grand
effect. It stands about ten miles from Edinburgh; and in those days,
we doubt not that its lord, at the head of his gallant cortege,
might have travelled to the very gates of the city under the shadeof
its trees.
The public interest in this castle has been much increased by the
circumstance of Sir Walter Scott finding it convenient to bring his
hero, Marmion, thither from Gifford, and to detain him there for two
days. We hold the description of his evening walk with Sir David
Lindsay on the battlements, during the second night of his visit,
and especially the account given to him by the Lion of the strange
supernatural appearance which manifesed itself to the king in the
church at Linlithgow, to be very picturesquely told.
“At length up that wild dale they wind.
Where Crichtoun Castle crowns the bank ;
For there the Lion’s caro assigned
A lodging meet for Marmion’s rank.
That castle rises on the steep
Of the green vale of Tyne;
And far beneath, where alow they creep,
From pool to eddy dark and deep,
Where alders moist, and willows weep,
You hear her streams repine.
The towers in various ages roeo;
Their various architecture shows
The builders various hands;
A mighty mass, that could oppose.
When deadliest hatred fired its foes,
The vengeful Douglas bands.
“Crichtoun! though now thy miry court
But pens the lazy steer and sheep,
Thy turrets rude, and totter’d keep,
Have been tho minstrel’s loved resort.
Oft have I traced, within thy fort.
Of mould’ring shields tho mystic sense,
Scutcheons of honour or pretence,
Quarter’d in old armorial sort,
Remains of rude magnificence.
Nor wholly yet had time dctaced
Thy lordly gallery fair;
Nor yet the Btony cord unbraced,
Whose twisted knots, with roses laoed,
Adorn thy ruin’d stair.
Still rises unimpaiVd below,
Tho court-yard’s graceful portico;
Above its cornice, row and row
Of fair hewn facets richly show
Their pointed diamond form,
Though there but houseless cattle go,
To shield them from the storm.
And, shuddering, still may we explore,
Where oft whilom were captives pent,
The darkness of thy Massy More;
Or, from thy grass-grown battlement,
May trace in undulating line,
The sluggish mazes of tho Tyne.
“Another aspect Crichtoun show’d,
As through its portal Marmion rode;
But yet ’twos melancholy state
Received him at the outer gate;
For none were in the costlo then
But women, boys, or aged men.
With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame,
To welcome noble Marmion, eame;
Her son, a stripling twelve years old,
Proffer’d the Baron’s rein to hold;
For each man that could draw a sword
Had march’d that morning with their lord;
Earl Adam Hepburn,—he who died
On Flodden, by his sovereign’s side.
Long may his Lady look in vain!
She ne'er shall see his gallant train
Come sweeping back through Crichtoun Dean!
’Twas a brave race, before the namo
Of hated Bothwell stain'd their fame.
"And hero two days did Marmion rest,
With every rite that honour claims,
Attended os the King’s own guest;—
Such tho command of royal James,
Who marshall’d then his land's army
Upon tho Borough-Moor tint day;
Perchance he would not foeman’s eye
Upon his gathering host should pry,
Till full prepared was every band
To march against the English land.
Ilere, while they dwelt, did Lindsay’s wit
Oft cheer the Baron's moodier fit;
And, in his turn, ho knew to prize
Lord Marmion*s powerful mind, and wise,—
Train'd in the lore of Romo and Greece,
And policies of war and peace.
“It chanced, as fell the second night.
That on tho battlements they walk'd,
And, by the slowly fading light,
Of varying topics talk'd ;
And, unaware, the Ilemld-bard
Said, Marmion might his toil havo spared,
In travelling so far;
For that a messenger from heaven
In vain to James had counsel given
Against the English war;
And closer question'd, thus he told
A tale, which chronicles of old
In Scottish story have enroll’d:—
“Of all the palaces so fair,
Built for the royal dwelling,
In Scotland, far beyond compare,
Linlithgow is excelling;
And in its park, in jovial June,
How sweet tho merry linnets tune!
Uow blitho the blackbird’s lay!
The wild-buck bells from ferny brake,
Tho ooot dives merry on the lake,
The saddest heart might pleasure take
To see all nature gay.
But June is to our sovereign dear
The heaviest month in all the year:
Too well his cause of grief you know—
June saw his father’s overthrow.
Woe to the traitors who could bring
The princely boy against his king—
Still in his conscience burns the sting.
In offices as strict of Lent,
King James’8 Juno is ever spent.
"When last this ruthful month was come,
And in Linlithgow’s holy doino
The King, as wont, was praying;
While for his royal father’s soul
The chauntors sung, tho bells did toll,
The bishop mass was saying—
For now the year brought round again
The day tho luckless king was slain.
In Katherine's aisle the monnarch knelt,
With sackcloth shirt, and iron belt,
And eyes with sorrow streaming ;
Around him in their stalls of state
The Thistle’s knights-companions sate,
Their banners o’er them beaming.
I too was there, and sooth to tell,
Bedeafen’d with the jangling knell,
Was watching where the sunbeams fell,
Through the stain’d casement gleaming;
But, while I mark’d what noxt befell,
It seem'd as I were dreaming.
Stepp’d from the crowd a ghoitly wi;ht,
In azure gown, with cincture white;
His forohead bald, his head was bare,
Down hung at length his yellow hair.—
Now, mock me not, when good, my lord,
I pledge to you my knightly word,
That when I saw his placid grace,
His simple majesty of face,
His solemn bearing, and his paoo
So stately gliding on.
Seem'd to mo ne’er did limner paint
So just an image of the saint,
Who propp’d the Virgin in her faint,
The loved apostle John!
“I lie stopp’d before tho monarch’s chair,
And stood with rustic plainness there,
And little reverence made;
Nor head nor body bow’d nor bent.
But on the desk his arm he leant,
And words like thcso he said,
In a low voice—but never tone
So thrill’d through vein, and nerve, and bone
My mother sent me from afar,
Sir King, to warn thee not to war—
Woo waits on thine array;
If war thou wilt, of woman fair,
Her witching wiles and wanton snare,
James Stuart, doubly warn’d, beware:
God keep thee as he may!
The wondering monarch seem’d to seek
For answer, and found none;
And when he raised his head to speak,
The monitor was gone.
The Marshal and myself had cast
To stop him as he outward pass'd ;
But lighter than tho whirlwind’s blast
He vanish’d from our eyes.
Like sunbeam on tho billow cast,
That glances but and dies.’”
A quarter of a mile down the valley, and on the same bank, stands
the Church of Crichton, with its ancient and venerable truncated
tower, picturesquely situated in a grove of old trees. A very well
preserved Roman camp is to be found at Lougfaugh, some distance
beyond the church. This, however, is of far less importance than
that which is well known all over the Lothians as “The Roman Camp,”
which crowns the high grounds to the north of the Tyne, on the upper
part of the Marquis of Lothian's property.
Following the course of the river down the glen from Crichton
Church, we find that it begins to be richly wooded, and the path
conducts you through many pretty little local scenes, to the beauty
of which the stream has its share in contributing. The extensive
woods of Vogrie House, which stands upon the left bank, have a large
influence in producing these effects. There are some fine old trees
about this place, and the shrubberies are very superb. A small
tributary to the Tyne comes down through the glen in the wood, and
altogether it is a place filled with growing amenity. The long
village of Pathhead flanks either side of the Great London Road, on
the high ground above the right bank of the river. The ancient ideas
of road-making, contrasted with those that prevail in the present
day, are nowhere so strikingly exemplified as at this particular
spot. The old rood runs down a terrific inclination for a quarter of
a mile to the little place of Ford, where, crossing the river, it
proceeds in one straight line of steep ascent for about a couple of
miles, to the top of the summit level above Dalkeith. But our much
valued friend, the Earl of Stair, having, in his capacity of
convener of the Dalkeith district, reared a magnificent bridge of
five Roman arches, called the Lothian Bridge, in the very centre of
the deep valley, so as to bring the road-way up to a level with its
sides, has earned the road comparatively without rise to a lower
point of the ridge, and this he has done by the additional means of
an immense mound and cut; so that the road, instead of being
dangerous in the highest degree, as it formerly was, is now safe and
pleasant for those who are driving, and devoid of fatigue for the
horses that have to pull the vehicle. We do not know a richer view
anywhere in the kingdom than that which is enjoyed by the traveller
coming from Edinburgh, after he has passed through the great cut in
the hill, and opened upon the mound. He thence commands the whole
valley of the Tyne, exhibiting the richest possible cultivation,
intermingled with the parks of numerous gentlemen’s seats, with very
extensive woods of fine timber, which are rarely to be met with in a
country so devoted as this is to agriculture. The whole valley of
the Tyne, and of East Lothian, as far as Haddington, is to be seen
from hence, and the village of Ormiston, one of the prominent
features, from its vicinity to the eye; the boundary to the north
being the Garleton Hills, whilst it is shut in to the south by the
long stretch of the Lammermoors, crowned by Lammerlaw. As we
consider this extended view, which we have just described, as being
of rare and singular beauty, so those of a more homely description,
which are to be enjoyed from Lord Stair’s grand bridge, looking in
either direction up or down the river, present a rich assemblage of
groves of timber and lawn, especially that which is enjoyed by
looking down the stream, where the eye travels along between the
grounds of the two grand places of Prestonhall upon the right bank,
and Oxenfoord Castle upon the left. Before leaving Pathhead, we may
notice [that some great battle seems to have been fought near to it,
an immense number of human bones having been dug up in its vicinity.
We may easily conceive that many skirmishes and obstinate conflicts
must have taken place in old times on the banks of the Tyne at this
particular point, it being a pass of some difficulty, and of very
great importance, as leading directly to Edinburgh.
Like Mr. Balwhidder, the reverend chronicler of the annals of the
parish of Dalmailing, we have seen many changes in our day in the
parish of Cranstoun. In the first place, we have seen no less than
three successive parish churches. The first was situated very near
to Oxenford Castle. It was burnt to the ground by fire communicated
by a stove. A new church was then built by the heritors on the same
site, but on the great extension of the grounds by the present Earl
of Stair, then Sir John Hamilton Dalrymple, Baronet, he desired to
remove it beyond his park wall, and having obtained the permission
of the heritors for this purpose, he, at his own expense, built a
very handsome Gothic church and tower, resembling those so
frequently met with in England. Then as to the manse and glebe, we
recollect them both situated upon the south side of the Tyne. The
old manse stood near to Prestonhall, and although it was a very
pretty little nest of itself, it was a great encroachment upon the
grounds of that fine place. It seems to have been an ancient hospice
connected with that of Soutra, and forming a stage between that
place and Edinburgh. No date could be detected upon it, but over one
of the windows the following inscription in the monkish style was
legible:—“Diversorium infra, Habitaculum supra.” The manse and glebe
are now transferred to the north side of the Tyne, where a very
handsome manse, in the Elizabethan style, has been erected, at the
sole expense of Mr. Callendar of Prestonhall, whose grounds were
thus relieved of the encumbrance of tho old one. The extensive
grounds of Prestonhall here occupying the right bank of the river,
while those of Oxenfoord Castle occupy the left, give great richness
to the scenery. The house of Prestonhall is a large and handsome
structure, in the Grecian style, consisting of a centre, and two
important wings connected with the main body by lower buildings. The
approach from the west, running along the wooded bank of the river,
is very beautiful. The timber here, and in the vicinity of the
house, is of great growth; and we have ourselves had occasion to
notice in other works some extraordinary measurements. As the course
of the river here runs through the park of Oxenfoord Castle, the
want of it has been supplied by some extremely happily-constructed
ponds of large size, of beautiful outline, and richly bordered by
ancient evergreens. The banks, which slope to the north, are varied
in surface, possessing a number of charming little dells running
transversely down towards the valley. The ponds, and indeed the
whole landscape gardening of Prestonhall, were executed many years
ago by the then proprietor, Lord Adam Gordon, who was grand-uncle of
the last Duke of Gordon. He was for a long while Commander-in-Chief
in Scotland, and we ourselves can just recollect to have seen his
tall spare form, and extremely benevolent countenance, as, clad in
the uniform of Lieut.-General, and surrounded by his staff, he used
to inspect and review the regiments upon Burntsfield Links. Whilst
proprietor of Prestonhall, he resided there with his wife, the
Dowager Duchess of Athol, whom he married in 1767, and where he kept
one of the most hospitable houses in Scotland. Our father, who, as
his near neighbour and intimate friend, used to be much there, has
told us that the house was always full. He was up every morning by
five o’clock, and got through all his official business before
breakfast. After that meal, he informed his friends that there were
horses, dogs, guns, and fishing-rods at their command, so that each
might follow his own pursuit. “As for me, gentlemen,” said he, “I am
going on my usual inspection of works, and I shall be happy to have
the company of any one who may feel disposed to honour me so far.”
This inspection of works occupied the whole day till dinner-time,
for he had gangs of workmen employed in various parts of the
grounds, all of whom he visited in succession, giving his own
directions to them. His table was first-rate, and his wines of
first-rate quality, and he was no niggard of them. The Duchess of
course laid out her day for her own amusements, and that of the
ladies, selecting such of the gentlemen as she chose to form her
parties. Lord Adam was the most generous man in the world. He would
ask our father to go with him to look at a lot of queys or colts, in
order that he might give him his opinion as to which was the best,
and when he had returned home a day or two afterwards, he was much
surprised to learn that the animal had been sent orer to him from
Prestonhall as a present, so that it became absolutely necessary for
a person of any delicacy to beware of praising anything that he saw
at Prestonhall When he had completed the improvements of the place
according to his own ideas, and that there really remained little or
nothing more to be done, he sold it, and afterwards bought the ram
in the north, for the embellishment of which place he set himself to
work with renewed alacrity. The trees which Lord Adam planted at
Prestonhall are now well grown, and all that it can want in the way
of embellishment is the opening of of the grounds here and there,
whieh perhaps might be done in certain directions with good effect.
The alterations and improvements on the grounds of Oxenfoord Castle
have been very great, since we first recollect them in the days of
our youth. The place was then confined very much by two roads, one
running past the church, and the other down to the Tyne, a little to
the westward of the house. Between the church and the Castle there
was a deep ravine, which still exists; and the timber within tho
wall was of great magnitude, supporting a colony of rooks, whose
cawing added to the venerable appearance of the place. Everything,
indeed, about it was venerable, except the Castle itself, which,
though a large structure, was one of those anomalies in architecture
which Adam, the architect, invented, and chose to dignify with the
name of Castle. Strange it was, that an architect who had so much
good taste in other styles, should have been led to adopt this! He
seems to have considered that every bit of the external wall should
have a window, loophole, or slit in it; and where no such thing was
required for convenience within, a mock opening was made externally.
Is it not wonderful, that a man who had only to go a few miles to
see Borthwick Castle, Crichton Castle, and Elphinstone Tower, all of
which are of so different a character, should have been led to
produce anything of this kind, particularly as he had the nucleus of
an old castle to work upon? Our friend, the Earl of Stair, has since
done all that a man of taste could do, by a very large addition, to
improve the general contour and character of the building; and this
so far predominates over the whole, as in a certain degree to
extinguish the anomaly of the other parts, be that it now altogether
constitutes a very imposing structure in relation to the surrounding
scenery. The boundaries of the place are now so extended as to
enclose a very large park. The newer parts of this have been planted
with great judgment, and with such care in regard to the trees as
must ensure their coming rapidly to maturity. But towards the
vicinity of the house, the ancient groves of timber come into play
with the happiest effect. Following the example set him by his
ancestor, Marshal Stair, at Castle Kennedy, in Wigtonshire, the
noble proprietor has cut the lawn behind the house into terraces and
slopes, in the old style of landscape gardening. This has produced
more thinness in the shrubbery in this quarter than is altogether
desirable, but this will be improved by the growth of a few years.
The deep ravine to the north is filled with a wilderness of shrubs;
and his lordship contemplates the conversion of the ancient pariah
burying-ground into a place of the choicest beauty of retirement, as
has been done at Castle Craig, and at Minto. The site of the Castle
is very commanding. The eye drops directly down a steep bank into
the hollow valley below, and follows the course of the Tyne downward
through a long retiring lawn, flanked by banks of fine timber,
whence it sweeps down the country towards Ormiston and Winton. A
tributary brook enters the park from the north-west, through a
beautiful, narrow, wooded glen, rendered accessible by a footpath
which runs under a bridge on the great road. This is replete with
beautiful little local scenes. To add to the grandeur of the Castle,
and to give it its proper character, the platform in front must be
converted into a great court-yard, entering under an archway from
the bridge over the ravine, and having another archway to the south.
All this will be probably added to the Castle in due time.
There are some curious remains on the estate of Cousland, belonging
to Lord Stair; and although they are at some distance from the
mansion, we cannot pass them by without notice. They are situated
upon the high ridge, several miles to the north. The Castle and
village were burnt by Somerset, when he invaded Scotland with his
powerful army, to enforce the marriage of Queen Mary with the young
King of England — a mode of courtship which was considered, even in
those times, to be rather rough. Some extensive ruins are to be seen
upon the south side of the village. Tradition says that these are
the remains of a nunnery, but no authentic account of them can be
discovered. They chiefly consist of two enclosures of considerable
extent, surrounded by high walls. That called the White Dyke is 24
feet high, and the rest vary in height from 5 to 11. They seem to
have been the orchards belonging to some religious house, for cherry
trees and gooseberry bushes were still growing in them some few
years ago. There was a church-yard here, and the end of the ruined
chapel bad a bell hanging in it, which was carried off by some
tinkers, in the recollection of the people still alive. The
supposition is that this was a religious foundation, dedicated to
St. Bartholomew, for there are some acres of ground to the
southward, which retain the name of Bartholomew’s Firlot. We must
not forget to mention that a family of the name of Foster having
come from the north of England, and taken what is called the surface
coal of Cousland, were engaged in pulling down part of the old wall
in order to use the material for some building purpose. They were
much astonished to see a stream of gold pieces issue from a crevice.
Of course they took care that nobody but themselves should be aware
of the extent of this treasure; but certain it is, that when they
returned to England, they set up in a style of life very much above
that in which they had formerly lived.
The noble proprietor of Oxenfoord has effected great agricultural
improvements both here and on his extensive estates in Wigtonshire,
He has been long known as a decided, uncompromising, and unvarying
Whig and Reformer, and has been deservedly placed by universal
consent at the head of tho Whig interest in Scotland. We have long
enjoyed his friendship, and have recently had the honour of becoming
connected with him; and we can with truth affirm, that the pride
which we have in regard to this arises more from our admiration of
his honest consistency than from the high rank which he possesses.
It is remarkable, that looking down the whole course of the Tyne to
the sea, from our present rather elevated position, we cannot
discover or remember any place which has fostered the genius of the
muse, with one exception, to be afterwards noticed; but on the other
hand, there is hardly a gentleman’s seat in the whole course of the
stream that has not given birth to some distinguished character. The
family of Dalrymple, besides other remarkable men, has produced Sir
David Dalrymple of Hailes, a member of the Faculty of Advocates,
created a Baronet 8th May, 1700, who was Member of Parliament for
Culross, Solicitor-General to Queen Anne, and a Commissioner for the
treaty of Union. His son, Sir James Dalrymple of Hailes, also a
Member of Parliament, was the author of Dalrymple’s Scottish
History, a very curious book. His son, Sir David Dalrymple, Lord
Hailes, Judge of the Court of Session, was the learned and
accomplished author of the Annals of Scotland. But the most
brilliant character of this family was John, second Earl of Stair,
the Field-Marshal. His life commenced under most distressing
auspices, for while yet a mere boy, he had the misfortune to shoot
his elder brother with fire-arms, with which they were incautiously
playing together. The young lord was killed on the spot. His unhappy
parents could not afterwards bear to look on their son, who had
produced so great a calamity, and in order to keep him out of their
sight, they banished him to Ayrshire, where he was put to reside
with a clergyman. The character of his pupil gradually expanded
itself so favourably, that the reverend gentleman, who was
fortunately a man of sound sense, formed the highest idea of the
youth’s powers of mind, and made the most favourable reports
regarding him to his family, and these, backed by much intercession,
at last effected their object so far, that he was put into the army
with all the advantages attendant upon his rank. Becoming the
companion in arms of the Duke of Marlborough, he particularly
distinguished himself at the battles of Hamillies, Oudenarde, and
Malplaquet, and rose to the highest rank in his profession. He was
afterwards sent to Paris as ambassador extraordinary to Louis XIV.
There his wonderful powers of acquiring information enabled him to
discover all the Jacobite intrigues, and to keep the Court of France
in check with regard to them. Lord Stair was very remarkable for his
knowledge of good breeding, and on some of the courtiers having
occasion to mention to the French King that the Field-Marshal was
held to be the best bred man in Europe, “I shall soon put that to
the test,” said Louis; and having ordered his carriage, and
signified to Lord Stair his desire that he should accompany him in
an airing, he followed his Majesty to the door of the vehicle. There
the King suddenly stood aside, and motioned to the Earl to precede
him, when his lordship immediately bowed and obeyed. “He is the best
bred man in Europe,” said the King afterwards to his former
informant; “had he been otherwise, he would have kept me standing
for some time unnecessarily.” It was entirely owing to the admirable
diplomacy of Marshal Stair that the security of the newly-acquired
throne of Goorge I. was preserved, so far as the neutrality* of
France was concerned.
To descend by a sudden and curious flight from field-marshals to
fish, we have now to mention that all this upper part of the Tyne
enjoys its proportion of the finny race. The monarch of the brook
may perhaps be here and there enticed from some deepish hole beneath
the tangled roots of a projecting aider, by a short line, with a
bait hook being thrust in, and brought immediately within his
cognizance. This refers chiefly to that part of the stream which is
above Ford; but after it enters the Oxenfoord grounds, it becomes
assailable by the fly, and with this implement, a fair dish of
trout, of a very small size, may be caught, so as to afford two or
three hours of very pretty angling ; and to dismiss this matter, as
regards the river, for a certain distance downwards, we may say that
this is very much the state of the case for some three or four miles
till we get below the village of Pencaitland.
Escaping from the grounds of Oxenfoord and Prestonhall, and at the
same time from the county of Mid-Lothian, the Tyne enters the parish
of Ormiston in East Lothian. Before doing so it receives from the
north a small tributary at a place called Whitebouse Mill. This
descends from Mr. North Dalrymple’s property of Fordel. The country
here, on both sides, is entirely English in appearance, the river
running slowly in a deep alluvial bed through meadows, and the
fields being every where divided by hedgerow trees; and at the
distance of about a couple of miles, it passes the village of
Ormiston, occupying, as it were, the central point of the valley,
and with the red-tiled roofs of its houses rising here and there
over the trees in which it is embosomed. Its street possesses the
width of an English village, and from the centre of it a rude but
ancient cross arises. A Gothic chapel stood near this cross, the
remains of which existed in the recollection of the fathers of some
old inhabitants not long dead. The village has now a certain air of
decay about it, but in our younger days we recollect that some of
its best houses were inhabited by respectable individuals of demi-fortune,
who came hero to live cheap—so that it afforded a quiet, genteel,
and innocent society.
The rising grounds at some distance to the south of the village are
covered with the extensive and united woods of Ormiston Hall,
Woodhall, and Fountainhall, so as to form a sylvan district of so
great magnitude, as, when we consider the rich agricultural country
in which it is situated, might almost be termed a forest. Ormiston
Hall may probably be considered by such individuals as have less
romance in their compositions than we profess ourselves to have, to
be a dull sejour, from the immense quantity of wood by which it is
surrounded; but we have a very different feeling in regard to it, as
we consider it a most delightfhl retirement. The oldest part of the
house dates of the time of the Cockburns of Ormiston, and is of that
tea-canister style of architecture that prevailed at the period.
Three additions hare been made to it in the same style, one
tea-canister being added alongside of another, till the accomodation
wanted was completed; but as it is a house of no external
pretension, it gives no offence, and is extremely comfortable in the
interior. Of this we can speak from experience, having spent the
greater part of the last summer there as the guest of our
son-in-law, Mr. Mitchell Innes, who now rents it. The house fronts
the east, and in that direction an extensive park, of very
considerable breadth, stretches away until lost in the distant
woods, whence the eye travels through the vista of the valley of the
Tyne. This park is bounded everywhere else by the woods, which throw
promontories of magnificent trees into it here and there. On the
south side of the house, and immediately behind it, part of the
ancient garden has been converted, with the happiest success, into a
flower-garden, redolent of roses, mingled with shrubbery; and the
natural manner in which this sweeps into, and blends with, the lawn
without and wood beyond, produces the most pleasing effect, while an
advance-guard of some of the oldest and most magnificent trees,
chiefly beeches, chestnuts, limes, and walnuts, come sweeping from
the wood round to the westward. This flower-garden is remarkable for
the immense height of the evergreens, of which its thickets are
composed; but one tree requires especial notice — this is the
celebrated yew; the age of this tree must be immense, and it is in
the most perfect state of preservation. There was found, some years
ago, among the papers belonging to the Earl of Hopetoun, conveyed to
him by the Cockburn family, a lease of a piece of ground in the
vicinity, granted by the head of the religious establishment at
Ormiston, and signed under the yew tree. It was beautifully written
on a piece of parchment, which is now said to be in some way or
other amissing — the date of which, however, according to the
recollection of the gentlemen who saw it, was 1474. At this moment
the yew is in the fullest vigour of growth, and presents, perhaps,
one of the finest objects, as a vegetable production, that Scotland
can exhibit. We recollect very well, that in our younger days our
worthy father, who was curious in such matters, used to measure it
annually, and found its increment to he never less than an inch in
the year. We have not thought of measuring it lately, but we shall
now quote from our own edition of “Gilpin’s Forest Scenery,”
published in 1834, where we have given the measurement as accurately
taken at that time, and we have no doubt it has considerably
increased since:—“
It throws out its
vast limbs horizontally in all directions, supporting a large and
luxuriant head, which now covers an area of ground of fifty-eight
feet in diameter, with a most impenetrable shade. Above tho roots it
measures twelve feet nine inches in girth; at three feet up, it
measures thirteen feet half an inch; at four feet up, it measures
fourteen feet nine inches; and at five feet up, it measures
seventeen feet eight inches in girth.” In this garden there arc some
remarkable old fig-trees, producing exquisite fruit in so great
abundance, as to have furnished this season a supply, for more than
a month, of figs which were found to be not inferior to those which
we have eaten anywhere abroad.
To the north of the house, what is called Ormiston Hall Dean runs in
a direction from west to east. This is one of the most beautiful
features about the whole place. The trees in it may be said to be of
gigantic size; and our friend, Mr. Milne, the Commissioner of Woods
and Forests, who visited it last summer, declared that he had not
believed that Scotland could show anything like it. The interest of
this charming wilderness, which has been made accessible by walks,
is much increased by the circumstance of a very whimsical tributary
of the Tyne having its passage through it; and as there is nothing
to notice upon the rest of its course, until it joins the river
above Wintoun, we shall finally discuss it here. Its waters are
drawn, in a great measure, from the old coal-wastes which have
perforated the ground here, in some places like the burrowing of
rabbits. At one time it is seen dancing along, and glittering
beneath some ray of light, accidentally perforating the foliage
above; at another, as if its naiad were alarmed by the approaching
foot of meditation, it hurries into a cavernous opening, and
disappears under ground. Anon it again rashes forth between banks
luxuriantly friuged with plants of the richest character for the
foreground of the artist, affording subjects that Ruysdael or
Hobbima might have coveted to have painted. An artist fond of such
subjects as these, of sylvan scenery in general, might devote a
lifetime to study in the Dean alone. How happy were those days of
our youth when we, during our solitary walks, used to bury ourselves
in its depths, and there, undisturbed by the approach of any human
being, devote ourselves for hours to our pencil!
But to us the great charm of Ormiston Hall is the extent of the
surrounding woods, and the great growth of the trees. There it was
that in former days we delighted to lose ourselves amidst its
solitudes, wandering without an object for hours together. There we
would now and then break into the more open ground, where the trees
grew thinner, and the under- growth of shrubbery was more luxuriant,
and the light came cheerfully down to illuminate the various scenes
wo passed through; and there the rich profusion of flowers, beds of
anemones, ranunculuses, wood-sorrel, violets, and their numerous
associates, with Milton’s own “nodding avens,” are found in
profusion. There the silence of our steps would give us a transient
peep at the sly fox as he came stealing through the broad leaves of
the ferns; and the pheasant would often startle us by rising from
our side. Then, again, we found places of several acres in extent,
covered by trees so tall as to roar their canopy of umbrage to an
inconceivable height above our heads. In such places, the surface of
the earth being deprived of its tribute of moisture from the clouds,
produced no vegetation, and consequently it was covered with the
dried leaves of the previous year — producing altogether a most
American effect. There we would stop to listen, while the hot
summer’s sun above our heads was poaring its most powerful influence
upon the tops of the trees; whilst all below was coolness and
unbroken shade; every harsh, sound was silenced—even the slumberous
cooing of the ringdove came at long intervals from a distance, as if
the bird was too much oppressed by the heat to repeat it oftener;
and the mingled hum of countless millions of insects hung in the air
above us. Who could be so circumstanced without thinking of the
endless power of the great God of Love, whose all-pervading spirit
was giving happiness to so many of His creatures, each individual of
whom, constructed with organs of the most delicate formation, was as
much an object of care to Him as was man himself. Where could we
have found a cathedral wrought by human hands for meditative worship
equal to this? But we must put an end to our indulgence in these
ancient recollections.
And yet there is an immense population, which, we may say, is
hereditarily connected with these woods, that we cannot pass over
unnoticed—we mean the rooks, who have probably used these woods as a
place of nightly roost from a period as far back as the earlier days
of the Cookburns, who were the lords of the soil. We had a daily
opportunity of watching their operations last summer, and we found
them to be precisely the same that had been adopted by their
ancestors in the days of our youth. When the grey dawn of morning
first begins to appear, and this long before the sun visits the
horizon, this immense winged nation rises at once, as if by word of
command, from the upper boughs of the trees, where they have been
lodging for the night. For a short time they refrain from employing
their throats in cawing, but the sound of their wings is so powerful
as to resound in the most sublime manner through the whole of the
woods. Having soared perpendicularly upwards, and gained a
sufficient altitude, their chorus of cawing begins, producing what
we consider a species of rural harmony, and they proceed to wheel
round in circles for a considerable time. At length, dividing
themselves in several corps d'armee, each goes off in a straight
line for a short distance towards a point of the compass different
from that of the others, and there, after a series of circles in the
air, it settles down in some large field, the surface of which
becomes black with this strange population. Again, after counsel
having been duly held, this body rises into the air, wheels in many
a cawing circle, and breaks off in gome three or four grand
divisions, which proceed onwards in different lines. Following one
of these, we find that it settles down in a field in the same way as
its particular corps did, holds the same counsel, rises again into
the air, again subdivides itself, each smaller division proceeding
onwards in its own line, and when strictly pursued, so as to watch
its proceedings, we at last find that it is divided and subdivided,
until it is left scattered over the country in parties consisting of
two or three individuals, who go on, each foraging for himself, to
procure a maintenance; and thus they are occupied till an hour or
two before the approach of evening. Then the manoeuvres of the
morning begin to be repeated, but in inverse order. The little
parties meet for re-union at their various places of rendezvous; the
complement of each being fully made up, it proceeds onwards to the
next field of meeting, where it unites with the other bodies from
which it separated in the morning; and so the whole predeed onwards,
accumulating, as they go, in the same manner as they formerly
divided themselves, and at the same places where these divisions
took place, until they all assemble from different points of the
compass in the great field where they first settled. Then it is
that, rising again into the air, they seem to consider it necessary
to show off their taotics to the greatest advantage, and an hour and
sometimes more is consumed in the execution of a variety of
evolutions, which are perfectly beautiful in themselves. At last,
being all collected together, the vast army again rises into the
clouds, immediately over the woods which contain their dormitory,
and wheeling round and round, circle within circle, and gradually
sinking nearer and nearer towards their place of rest, they all of a
sudden drop into it at once; after which, boyond the impatient flap
of a wing, or peevish caw, occasioned by the intrusion of one
individual upon the space adopted by another, no sound is heard, and
in a very few minutes all is so quiet, that no one passing could
believe that so immense a population was roosting in the trees over
his head.
During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries Ormiston Hall belonged
to a family of the name of Orme, after which it became the property
of the Lindsays, from whose hands it came by marriage into the
possession of the Cookburns, to whom it was confirmed by a charter
of King David Brace, in 1308. John Cockburn, tbe first possessor,
and his son, were constables of Haddington, an office which was for
a long time hereditary in the family. We learn, from the statistical
account of the parish, that in 1542, Patrick, a descendant of the
family, distinguished himself by a gallant defence of the Castle of
Dalkeith, against James, ninth Earl of Douglas, who had risen in
rebellion, on account of the murder of his brother William, the
eighth Earl. Cockburn having obtained the command of the town, put
himself at the head of the King’s troops, defeated the rebels,
though his army was inferior to theirs, and obliged them to retire.
The family appear to have been strongly attached to the
Reformation; so much so, that Sir Alexander Cockburn committed the
education of his son, Alexander, to John Knox, the Reformer, who
speaks of him in his history as possessed of great accomplishments;
and Buchanan wrote two elegies upon his death, which took place at
the early age of twenty-eight. In the aisle of the old chapel at
Ormiston Hall there is a brazen tablet, with the following
inscription to his memory:—
Omnia ovro longa indulget mortalibus rotas Ilroc tibi Alexander
prima juventa dcdit.
Cum genere et forma generoae sanguine digno, Excoiuit virtus anemum
ingenioauin camenro Successu studio consilios pari His ducibus
primum parata Britannia deinde Doctus ibi linguas ovros Roma, Sion,
et Athenro; Quas cum Germano, Gallia docta sonat Non immature finere
raptus obis; Omnibus officiis vita qui funetus obivit. Non fas hunc
vita est de brevitate gucri. His conditur Alexander Cockburn
Primogcniut Joann is domini Ormistoniet Alison Sandilands, ese
preclara fain ilia Calder, qui natus 13 Januaii 1535 post msignem
linguarum pro&ssionem. Obiit anno rotatis sum 28 onlead. septan.
The River Tyne, its History
and Resources
By James Guthrie (1880)
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