JAMES ORROCK, R.I.
(See pp. [43] , [49] , [63] , [93] )
At Teviothead we touch the Teviot proper. The upper basin of the Teviot is mainly a barren vale, flanked by lofty rounded hills. For a greater distance it is a strip of alluvial plain, screened by terraced banks clad with the rankest vegetation, and with long stretches of undulating dale-land, and overhung at from three to eight miles by terminating heights, and in its lower reaches it is a richly variegated champaign country, possessing all the luxuriance without any of the tameness of a fertile plain, and stretching away in resulting loveliness to the picturesque Eildons on the one hand and the dome-like Cheviots on the other. Teviothead, formerly Carlanrigg, is full of traditionary lore. Teviot Stone, extinct now, a landmark for centuries—its position being marked on some of our earliest maps—recalls Scott's favourite lines from the "Lay," imprinted on the Selkirk monument:
"By Yarrow's streams, still let me stray,
Though none should guide my feeble way;
Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break,
Although it chill my withered cheek;
Still lay my head by Teviot Stone,
Though there, forgotten and alone,
The Bard may draw his parting groan."
Teviothead Churchyard contains the graves of Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie, and his gallants. James V. (a mere boy-king at the time) never planned a more despicable or more atrocious deed than the betrayal and summary execution of this most picturesque of the freebooters. And posterity has never forgiven him. Nor can it. Scott's "Minstrelsy" ballad commemorating the incident is far and away the most dramatic of its kind, Johnie's scathing answer to the King being specially characteristic:
"To seik het water beneith cauld ice,
Surely it is a greit follie;
I have asked grace at a graceless face,
But there is nane for my men and me!"
There is a tradition that the trees on which they were hanged became immediately blasted; and Scott, in parting with the Wordsworths directed them to look about for "some old stumps of trees," but "we could not find them," adds Miss Wordsworth. Hard by are the graves of Scott Riddell and his third son, William, a youth of remarkable promise. Teviothead Cottage, where Riddell resided till his death in 1870, is passed on the left. The church in which he preached (he was in charge of the then preaching station here) is now the parish school, and his monument, like a huge candle extinguisher, crowns the neighbouring Dryden Knowes. Still keeping to the Teviot, now a fair-sized stream, rich in the variety and beauty of its scenery—
"Pleasant Teviotdale, a land
Made blithe by plough and harrow"—
we pass Gledsnest and Colterscleuch, figuring in the well-known "Jamie Telfer" ballad; Commonside, mentioned in "Kinmont Willie"; Northhouse, Teindside, Harwood, and Broadhaugh, snug farms all, till the hamlet of Newmill is reached, the quarrel scene between the "jovial harper" of the "Lay" and "Sweet Milk," "Bard of Reull," in which the latter was slain:
"On Teviot's side, in fight they stood,
And tuneful hands were stained with blood,
Where still the thorn's white branches wave
Memorial o'er his rival's grave."
Allan Cunningham's version of "Rattlin', Roarin' Willie" should be read in this connection. Branxholme (poetically Branksome) is a particularly interesting portion of the Teviot valley. Its Braes recall the old ditty:
"As I came in by Teviot side
And by the Braes of Branksome,
There first I saw my bonnie bride,
Young, smiling, sweet, and handsome."
And looming up before us is the massive white pile of Branxholme itself, the master-fort of the Teviot, and the key of the pass between the Tweed basin and Merrie Carlisle. The Castle occupies a strong position, has been much modernised, and is now a residence for Buccleuch's Chamberlain. Up to 1756, it was the chief seat of the Buccleuch family. Branxholme's main glory, however, is not its past history, or the pomp and circumstance surrounding it in the hey-day of its power. If there was "another Yarrow" to Wordsworth, there is "another Branxholme" to us. It is not the memory of the fighting barons of Buccleuch, with their tumultuous raids and unending quarrels, which draws the pilgrim's feet to Branxholme's Tower, but the memory of events which the imagination of the Minstrel has conjured up, and which have made for themselves a local habitation and a name. For here Scott placed the leading incidents of the "Lay,"—the first and finest of his Border efforts:
"Nine-and-twenty knights of fame
Hung their shields in Branksome Hall,
Nine-and-twenty squires of name
Brought them their steeds to bower from stall."
From Branxholme to the russet-grey Peel of Goldielands is scarcely two miles. Minus gables or parapet now, and standing among the haystacks and buildings of a farm, it is still in tolerable preservation. Here dwelt amongst others of its old heroes, "the Laird's Wat, that worthie man," who led the Scots at the Reidswire in 1575. Not improbably is Goldielands the peel associated with Willie of Westburnflat's operations in the "Black Dwarf." At Goldielands Gate one gets a fine view to the right of the Borthwick valley,
"Where Bortha hoarse that loads the meads with sand,
Rolls her red tide to Teviot's western stand."
And up the Borthwick, a mile or two, on its steep bank sits Harden, a place of more than ordinary note to the Scott student. Here Auld Wat, Sir Walter's grandsire seven times removed, reigned a king among Border reivers, whose deeds of derring-do have been long shrined by the balladists, and graven deep on the tablets of memory. Hawick, the Glasgow of the Borders, comes next in sight,—where Slitrig and Teviot meet. An ancient town, but possessing few relics of antiquity, except St. Mary's Church, and the Tower Inn, a dwelling of the Drumlanrig Douglases, with the mysterious Moat "where Druid shades still flitted round." The modernity of the place is, however, lost sight of annually in the "riding of the marches," a custom which prevails also in Selkirk and Langholm. It is the great public festival of the year, and dates from time immemorial. Its memories are mostly of Flodden, and the brave stand at Hornshole in the neighbourhood, the year after. The Flodden flag, splendidly "bussed," is carried in civic and cornetal procession with crowds continually singing—as only Teridom can—the rousing martial air of "Teribus," the Hawick slogan, which expresses more than any other the wild and defiant strain of the war-trump and the battle-shout. Hawick, including Wilton, has several elegantly architectured buildings, over a score of Tweed mills and factories, seventeen churches, and boasts a population of nearly twenty thousand.
From Hawick to Kelso the distance is 21 miles, with a finely undulating road all through. The railway journey via St. Boswells is about double the distance. Our way lies through some of the most storied scenery in the Lowlands. The names on the map will give us an idea of the exceedingly romantic character of this second half of the Teviot. Here we come into touch with such song-haunted tributaries as the Jed and Oxnam, the Rule and Kale, and Ale, and with many of the great houses whose history has contributed more than any other to the making of the Border Country. The names of Scott and Ker, Elliot and Douglas, Turnbull and Riddell are patent to every parish through which we pass. At Minto, the home of the Elliots and seat of the present Indian Viceroy, one is reminded of the distinguished place which that family has held both in the stormy and in the more peaceful times of Border story. Here Jean Elliot wrote the "Flowers of the Forest," and Thomas Campbell his "Lochiel's Warning." From Minto Crags, crowned with Fatlips Castle and Barnhill's Bed, (729 feet) there is no more pleasing prospect in the Borderland. The windings of the Teviot are traceable for miles, the Liddesdale and Dumfriesshire heights hemming in the view on one side, and the blue Cheviots on the other. Ruberslaw rises immediately in front, with Denholm Dene on the right, and the narrow bed of the "mining Rule" on the left, while behind to the north are distinctly seen the three-coned Eildons, Earlston Black Hill, Scott's Sandyknowe, Hume Castle, and the wavy line of the Lammermoors. Hassendean (suggesting "Jock o' Hazeldean") Cavers, a Douglas house, where the pennon of the great Earl, and the Percy gauntlets are still shown; Denholm, Leyden's birthplace, Henlawshiel and Kirkton, scenes in his boyhood, lie all in the neighbourhood. Dr. Chalmers was for a time assistant in Cavers Kirk, and in later life delighted to recall his connection with the Border district. Adjoining Minto, Ancrum stands bonnie on Ale Water—a village of considerable antiquity. Its Cross, dating from David I.'s time, is one of the best-preserved of the market-crosses of the Border. Ancrum was the birthplace of Dr. William Buchan of "Domestic Medicine" celebrity, and John Livingston, its minister during the Covenant, was a man of mark and piety in his day. The place naturally suggests Ancrum Moor, a mile or two to the north-west, one of the last great battlefields of the international struggle. In February, 1544, an English army under Sir Ralph Evers and Sir Brian Latoun desolated the Scottish frontier as far north as Melrose, defacing the Douglas tombs in the abbey. On returning with their booty towards Jedburgh, they were overtaken at Ancrum Moor, and severely beaten by a Scottish force led by the Earl of Angus and Scott of Buccleuch. In this battle, according to tradition, fought Maiden Lilliard, a brave Scotswoman from Maxton, who fell beneath many wounds and was buried on the spot. Her grave, in the midst of a thick fir-wood, carries the somewhat doggerel epitaph:
"Fair Maiden Lilliard
Lies under this stane;
Little was her stature,
But muckle was her fame
Upon the English loons
She laid monie thumps,
An' when her legs were cuttit off,
She fought upon her stumps."[A]
[A] An attempt has been made to discredit this story by an appeal to the antiquity of the place-name, which is admittedly much earlier than Lilliard's day. This, however, does not dispose of the tradition. The likelihood is that originally the first line was really "the Fair Maid of Lilliard."
The monument has been frequently restored. Lady John Scott made the last repairing touches, adding the words:
"To a' true scotsmen.
By me it's been mendit,
To your care I commend it."