"I forbid ye, maidens a',
That wear gowd in your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh;
For young Tamlane is there."
These round-shouldered hills, once covered with the Wood of Caledon, and the Forest of Ettrick, and the Forest of Yarrow, are very clear and clean in their green lawns to-day, scarce an ancient tree or a late descendant standing; here and there only gnarled and deformed, out of the centuries, out of perhaps that "derke forest" of James IV. His son, the Fifth James, thought to subdue the Border and increase his revenue by placing thousands of sheep in this forest; and these ruining the trees have decreased the tourists' rightful revenue. It is because of this absence of trees that one is perhaps more conscious of the shining ribbon of river; longer, clearer stretches may be seen in the green plain:
"And is this—Yarrow? This the stream
Of which my fancy cherished
So faithfully a waking dream?
An image that has perished!
O that some minstrel's harp were near
To utter notes of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air
That fills my heart with sadness!"
About Philipshaugh, two miles from Selkirk, the trees are in something of large estate, with oak and birch and fir and rowan, making dark shadows in the fair morning, as the historically minded traveler would fain have it. For it was there that Montrose met defeat, his small band against Leslie's many men. All about there lie legends of his fight and his flight across the Minchmoor and on to the North.
NEWARK CASTLE.
And through here Scott loved to wander. Here he let the Minstrel begin his Last Lay—
"He paused where Newark's stately Tower
Looks down from Yarrow's birchen bower."
And it was hither the Scotch poet came with Wordsworth, as the English poet describes it—
"Once more by Newark's Castle gate
Long left without a warder,
I stood, looked, listened, and with Thee
Great Minstrel of the Border."