e have already seen that the Armstrongs were a numerous and powerful clan, and that for a considerable period they had been known on the Borders as “notour thieves and limmers.” They levied blackmail over a wide district, and appropriated whatever came readiest to hand with a sublime indifference either to neighbourhood or nationality.
“They stole the beeves that made them broth
From Scotland and from England both.”
King James V. having succeeded in shaking himself free from the tyranny of the Douglasses, resolved that he would “daunton” the Border thieves, by making them feel the weight of his sword. He made an excellent beginning. He imprisoned the Earls of Bothwell and Home, Lord Maxwell Scott, Ker of Ferniherst, Scott of Buccleuch, Polworth, Johnston, and Mark Ker.[77] It must have been quite evident to the young King, and his counsellors, that so long as these Chiefs were at liberty it would be a bootless errand to proceed against those who owned them allegiance. The ringleaders must first of all be disposed of, and so they were put in ward, there to await his Majesty’s pleasure. This measure was not devised, as some suppose, for the purpose of crushing the nobility. It is absurd to infer that James, a youth of seventeen, had projected a deep political plan of this nature. The outrages which these men had committed during his minority had excited his lively resentment, and he was determined that they should no longer maintain bands of lawless followers at the public expense. This necessary measure for the pacification of the Borders was wisely devised, and promptly executed, and must have produced a deep impression, if not a wholesome fear, in the minds of those whom it was intended to influence.
It was in the month of June, 1529, that James set out for Meggatdale, accompanied by eight thousand men, lords, barons, freeholders, and gentlemen, all well armed, and carrying with them a month’s provisions. The King commanded all gentlemen that had “doggis that were guid” to bring them with them to hunt “in the said bounds.” The Earls of Huntley, Argyle, and Athol, brought their deerhounds with them, and hunted with his Majesty. They came to Meggat, near St. Mary’s Loch, and, during their short stay in this district, eighteen score of deer were slain.
The tradition is that on this occasion the King captured William Cockburn of Henderland, a famous freebooter, and hanged him over his own gate. It is quite certain, however, that in regard to this matter the tradition is unreliable. In “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials” we find it stated, under date May 26th—nearly a month before the King left Edinburgh—that “William Cockburne of Henderland was convicted (in presence of the King) of High Treason committed by him, in bringing Alexander Forrestare and his son, Englishmen, to the plundering of Archibald Somervile: And for treasonably bringing certain Englishmen to the lands of Glenquhome: And for Common Theft, Common Reset of Theft, outputting and inputting thereof.—Sentence. For which causes and crimes he has forfeited his life, lands, and goods, moveable and immoveable, which shall be escheated to the King.—Beheaded.”[78] Such is the brief but authentic record. It establishes beyond controversy the fact that Cockburn was apprehended, and tried, before the King had left Edinburgh on his famous expedition. The tradition that he was hanged over his own gate, must therefore be set aside.
The Cockburns were an old and well-known family. One of the Scotts of Buccleuch married a daughter of the house, which, on the principle of heredity, may help to explain the well-known reiving propensities of some branches of this famous clan. In “Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials,” where so much of the ancient history of the great Border families may be read, if not with pleasure, at least not without profit, mention is made of various Cockburns who distinguished themselves as daring and successful freebooters. In the old churchyard of Henderland there is still to be seen a large slab bearing the inscription—“Here lyis Perys of Cockburne and Hys wife Marjory.” There is no date on the tombstone, but the likelihood is that this “Perys of Cockburne” was a descendant of the William Cockburn whose fate we have just mentioned.
But the most interesting tradition in connection with this family relates to the well-known ballad, “The Border Widow’s Lament,” one of the most beautiful, and certainly the most pathetic, of all the Border ballads. It has been supposed to describe the feelings of Cockburn’s widow when her husband was put to death by the King.
“My love he built me a bonnie bower,
And clad it a’ wi’ lilye flour,
A brawer bower ye ne’er did see,
Than my true love he built for me.
There came a man, by middle day,
He spied his sport, and went away;
And brought the King that very night,
Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.
He slew my knight, to me sae dear;
He slew my knight, and poin’d his gear;
My servants all for life did flee,
And left me in extremitie.
I sew’d his sheet, making my mane;
I watch’d the corpse, myself alane;
I watch’d his body, night and day;
No living creature came that way.
I took his body on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;
I digg’d a grave, and laid him in,
And happ’d him with the sod sae green.
But think na ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the moul’ on his yellow hair;
O think na ye my heart was wae,
When I turned about, awa’ to gae?
Nae living man I’ll love again,
Since that my lovely knight is slain;
Wi’ yae lock o’ his yellow hair,
I’ll chain my heart for evermair.”
This exquisite ballad has probably no connection with Cockburn of Henderland,—we feel strongly convinced it has not,—but it is none the less interesting, as it is a composition which can well afford to be regarded apart altogether from its traditional associations.