Buccleuch, when charged with the atrocities here so minutely described, had a good deal to say in his own defence. He avowed that his inroad on Tynedale was fully justified. He says—“60 English entered Liddesdale by night, slew 2 men, and drove many sheep and cattle, when the fray arising, he with neighbouring gentlemen ‘followed the chace with the dog,’ and put the first men he met making resistance, to the sword. The rest of the spoil, taken to sundry houses in Tindale, was therein held against him by the stealers, and though he offered them life and goods, if the cattle were delivered, he had to force entry by the firing of doors, when the houses were burned ‘besides his purpose,’ with the obstinate people who refused to yield on trust.”[97]
This plausible story, the main facts of which, however, are admitted by the English warden, did not go far to pacify the Queen of England. She threatened the utmost penalties unless Buccleuch and Ker were delivered up to her. The time had gone past for further “excuses, deferrings, and lingerings.” It is said her resentment had reached such a pitch that, with her concurrence, a plan was formed to assassinate Buccleuch.
Though the Queen had at first been opposed to the appointment of a Commission for the consideration of some of the more important questions which had arisen between the two kingdoms, owing mainly to Buccleuch’s exploits, she ultimately yielded the point, and it is an interesting and significant fact that during the time of the sitting of the Commission Buccleuch was busily engaged in ravaging with fire and sword some of the fairest districts within the English Border. The magnitude of his offences had evidently impressed them. They hardly knew what to say about him. In the first paragraph of the report which they issued we read:—“We have accomplished the treaty of the Border causes with all the diligence possible, though not to so great advantage to the realm as we desired. Yet we have revived articles of the former treaties discontinued, supplied many old defects, and made new ordinances. Slaughters we were forced to leave as they were (the Scots protesting that they could not, under their instructions, deal with them); but we trust as the punishment is left to the princes, her Majesty will so consider the same, that it shall be found far better that we have left that article at large, than if we had condiscended to any meane degree of correccion for so barbarous acts ... specially by Baklugh, who is flagellum Dei to his miserably distressed and oppressed neighbours.”[98]
But, however distressing Buccleuch’s conduct may have been to the English members of the Commission, it is evident that neither King nor Council in Scotland was disposed to regard him as a “scourge of God.” He went up to Edinburgh at this time, when things seemed to be going so much against him in the Commission, and had an interview with James, and so obtained his favourable countenance, that “they laughed a long time on the purpose.” The Council took an equally favourable view of the situation, affirming that “it was found that his last invasion of England was just, for ‘repetition’ of goods stolen a short time before, and the slaughter was but of special malefactors, enemies to the public weal and quiet of both countries.”
Elizabeth, however, took a different view of the matter, and put her foot down with such purpose and determination that James speedily became convinced that he must either surrender his favourite, or involve the country in a war with England. The latter alternative was out of the question, as it might have imperilled his claim to the succession, and so Buccleuch was compelled to place himself as a prisoner in the hands of Sir William Bowes, who conducted him to Berwick, and put him in ward, there to await the Queen’s pleasure. Sir John Cary was then governor of the town, and it was with much perturbation and many misgivings that he undertook the safe custody of such a notorious and masterful captive. In a pathetic letter which he addressed to Lord Hunsdon, he says—“I entreat your lordship that I may not become the jailor of so dangerous a prisoner, or, at least, that I may know whether I shall keep him like a prisoner or no? for there is not a worse or more dangerous place in England to keep him in than this; it is so near his friends, and besides, so many in this town willing to pleasure him, and his escape may be so easily made; and once out of the town he is past recovery. Wherefore I humbly beseech your honor let him be removed from hence to a more secure place, ‘for I protest to the Almighty God, before I will take the charge to keep him here, I will desire to be put in prison myself, and to have a keeper of me!’ For what care soever be had of him here, ‘he shall want no furtherance whatsoever wit of man can devise, if he himself list to make an escape.’ So I pray your lordship, ‘even for God’s sake and for the love of a brother,’ to relieve me from this danger.”[99]
This passionate appeal, to be relieved from the responsibility of taking charge of Buccleuch, does not seem to have received much attention. Buccleuch remained under Cary’s guardianship, and, needless to say, proved himself one of the most tractable of prisoners. He could not well have acted otherwise, for he must by this time have become fully convinced that Elizabeth was determined to have her way, and that, in the peculiar circumstances in which the Scottish King was placed, he could ill afford to thwart her wishes. Sir Robert Ker was also induced to place himself in the hands of the English authorities. Strange to relate, he was placed in charge of Sir Robert Cary, with whom he lived for a considerable time on the most intimate and friendly terms. “Contrary to all men’s expectations,” says Cary, “Sir Robert Car chose me for his guardian, and home I brought him to my own house after he was delivered to me. I lodged him as well as I could, and took order for his diet, and men to attend on him; and sent him word, that (although by his harsh carriage towards me, ever since I had that charge, he could not expect any favours, yet) hearing so much goodness of him, that he never broke his word; if he would give me his hand and credit to be a true prisoner, he would have no guard set upon him, but would have free liberty for his friends in Scotland, to have ingress and regress to him as often as he pleased. He took this very kindly at my hands, accepted of my offer, and sent me thanks.
Some four days passed; all which time his friends came unto him, and he kept his chamber. Then he sent to me, and desired me I should come and speak with him, which I did; and after long discourse, charging and recharging one another with wrongs and injuries, at last, before our parting, we became good friends, with great protestations on his side, never to give me occasion of unkindness again. After our reconciliation, he kept his chamber no longer, but dined and supped with me. I took him abroad with me, at least thrice a-week, a-hunting, and every day we grew better friends. Bocleugh, in a few days after, had his pledges delivered, and was set at liberty. But Sir Robert Car could not get his, so that I was commanded to carry him to York, and there to deliver him prisoner to the archbishop, which accordingly I did. At our parting he professed great love unto me for the kind usage I had shown him, and that I would find the effects of it upon his delivery, which he hoped would be shortly.”[100]
Sir Robert Ker was as good as his word. After he had regained his freedom, by the delivery of the pledges demanded, he returned to his duties as warden of the East March, and seems to have conducted himself to the entire satisfaction of his generous opponent. Cary says that they often met afterwards at days of truce, and that he had as good justice as he could have desired—their friendship remaining unbroken to the end.
The fortunes of the “Bold Buccleuch,” after his imprisonment in Berwick, were of a varied, but by no means of an unpleasant character. He returned to his duties as Keeper of Liddesdale, and applied himself with energy and ability to the arduous task of keeping his unruly charge, as far as possible, within due bounds of law. This was an almost impossible undertaking, as the Armstrongs and Elliots and other “broken men” of the district had been so long accustomed to a lawless life that they quickly resented any interference with their liberty. The change which had come over the spirit of Buccleuch’s dream was not at all to their liking, and consequently they turned against him, and assailed him with much bitterness. He was “in contempt with them” because of his just dealing with Cary. They would gladly have shaken off his yoke, and were privately working for his overthrow, that they might have the “raynes louse” again. But difficult as the task was, Buccleuch was not easily turned aside from his purpose. He had evidently become convinced that a change of policy was desirable in the interests of the country, and he was determined to carry it out, however formidable might be the opposition with which he had to contend. The fact is significant, and ought to be carefully borne in mind. Buccleuch’s indiscretions during the earlier part of his official life were manifold, and severely reprehensible. The only defence which can be offered in his behalf is, that he was placed in a position of great responsibility before he was old enough to appreciate to the full extent the consequences of his actions. His extreme youth, fiery temperament, and fervid patriotism, account for many things in his life which otherwise would be difficult either to explain or justify. But if he sinned greatly, he also repented sincerely. It is really to him we owe the first impulse in the social regeneration of the Borders. From 1597 onwards, he contributed more towards the establishment of good order in the district over which he presided—and it was infinitely the worst district in the country—than any other man of his time. It may be said, indeed, that in him many of the finest qualities of the Scottish Borderer came to full fruition. He was brave, resolute, independent, quick to resent injuries, but withal, warm-hearted and generous. We do not greatly wonder at the large place he has filled in the traditional story of the country. His was a powerful and fascinating personality, and though, from a national point of view, the sphere of his activities was comparatively limited, his name is not unworthy of being associated with some of the greatest names in Scottish history.
Towards the close of the year 1599 he went to London to make his peace with the Queen. In a letter to Cecil, written by Sir Robert Cary, we have striking testimony given of the change which had taken place in Buccleuch’s attitude towards the English government. “He will be desirous,” Cary says, “to kiss the Queen’s hand: which favour of late he hath very well deserved, for since my coming into these parts, I do assure your honour he is the only man that hath run a direct course with me for the maintenance of justice, and his performance hath been such as we have great quietness with those under his charge. Nor have I wanted present satisfaction for anything by his people: and he has had the like from me. There is not an unsatisfied bill on either side between us.”[101]