and made prisoner Sir Andrew Harclay, at the head of three hundred Englishmen, and was himself slain fighting in the cause of Edward the Bruce, at the battle of Dundalk, in Ireland, 1318. He had been joint warden of the kingdom with John Cummin, after the abdication of the immortal Wallace, in 1300; in which character be was recognised by John Baliol, who, in a charter granted after his dethronement, and dated at Rutherglen, in the ninth year of his reign (1302), styles him 'Custos regni nostri. The treason of William, his successor, occasioned the downfall of the family. This powerful baron entered into a conspiracy against Robert the Bruce, in which many persons of rank were engaged. The object, according to Barbour, was to elevate Lord Soulis to the Scottish throne. The plot was discovered by the Countess of Strathern. Lord Soulis was seized at Berwick, although he was attended, says Barbour, by three hundred and sixty squires, besides many gallant knights. Having confessed his guilt in full Parliament, his life was spared by the king; but his domains were forfeited, and he himself confined in the castle of Dumbarton, where he died. Many of his accomplices were executed. "From this period, the family of Soulis make no figure in our annals. Social tradition, however, more faithful to the popular sentiment than history, has recorded the character of their chief, and attributed to him many actions which seem to correspond with that character. His portrait is by no means flattering; uniting every quality which could render strength formidable, and cruelty detestable. Combining prodigious bodily strength with cruelty, avarice, dissimulation, and treachery, is it surprising that a people who attributed every event of life, in a great measure, to the interference of good or evil spirits, should have added to such a character the mystical horrors of sorcery? Thus, he is represented as a cruel tyrant and sorcerer; constantly employed in oppressing his vassals, harassing his neighbours, and fortifying his castle of Hermitage against the King of Scotland; for which purpose he employed all means, human and infernal; invoking the fiends by his incantations, and forcing his vassals to drag materials like beasts of burden. Tradition proceeds to relate, that the Scottish king, irritated by reiterated complaints, peevishly exclaimed to the petitioners, 'Boil him if you please, but let me hear no more of him.' Satisfied with this answer, they proceeded with the utmost haste to execute the commission; which they accomplished by boiling him alive on the Nine-stane Rig, in a cauldron, said to have been long preserved at Skelf-hill, a hamlet betwixt Hawick and the Hermitage. Messengers, it is said, were immediately despatched by the king, to prevent the effects of such a hasty declaration; but they only arrived in time to witness the conclusion of the ceremony. The Castle of Hermitage, unable to support the load of iniquity which had been long accumulating within its walls, is supposed to have partly sunk beneath the ground; and its ruins are still regarded by the peasants with peculiar aversion and terror. The door of the chamber where Lord Soulis is said to have held his conferences with the evil spirits, is supposed to be opened once in seven years, by that demon to which, when he left the castle never to return, he committed the keys, by throwing them over his left shoulder and desiring it to keep them till his return.

Into this chamber, which is really the dungeon of the castle, the peasant is afraid to look; for such is the active malignity of its inmate, that a willow inserted at the chinks of the door, is found peeled, or stripped of its bark, when drawn back. The Nine-stane Rig, where Lord Soulis was boiled, is a declivity, about one mile in breadth and four in length, descending upon the water of Hermitage, from the range of hills which separate Liddesdale and Teviotdale. It derives its name from one of those circles of large stones which are termed Druidical, nine of which remained to a late period. Five of these stones are still visible; and two are particularly pointed out as those which supported the iron bar upon which the fatal cauldron was suspended.

"The formation of ropes of sand, according to popular tradition, was a work of such difficulty, that it was assigned by Michael Scott to a number of spirits, for which it was necessary for him to find some interminable employment. Upon discovering the futility of their attempts to accomplish the work assigned, they petitioned their taskmaster to be allowed to mingle a few handfulls of barley-chaff with the sand. On his refusal, they were forced to leave untwisted the ropes which they had shaped. Such is the traditionary hypothesis of the vermicular ridges of the sand on the shore of the sea.

"Red-Cap is a popular appellation of that class of spirits which haunt old castles. Every ruined tower in the south of Scotland is supposed to have an inhabitant of this species."]

LORD SOULIS he sat in Hermitage Castle,

And beside him old Red-Cap sly:

"Now, tell me, thou sprite, who art mickle of might,

The death that I must die."

"While thou shalt bear a charmed life,

And hold that life of me,

'Gainst lance and arrow, sword and knife,

I shall thy warrant be.

"Nor forged steel, nor hempen band,

Shall e'er thy limbs confine,

Till three-fold ropes of sifted sand

Around thy body twine.

"If danger press fast, knock thrice on the chest,

With rusty padlocks bound;

Turn away your eyes, when the lid shall arise,
And listen to the sound."

Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage Castle,

And Red-Cap was not by,

And he called on a page, who was witty and sage,
To go to the barmkin high :

(skrich-peep.

"And look thou east, and look thou west, And quick, come tell to me,

What troopers haste along the waste,

And what may their livery be.”

He looked o'er fell, and he looked o'er flat,

But nothing, I wist, he saw,

Save a pyot, on a turret that sat,

Beside a corby craw.

The page looked out at the skrieh of day,

But nothing, I wist, he saw,

'Till a horseman gray, in the royal array, Rode down the hazel shaw.

"Say, why do you cross o'er moor and moss ?”

So loudly cried the page.

"I tidings bring, from Scotland's king,

To Soulis of Hermitage.

"He bids me tell that bloody warden,

Oppressor of low and high,

If ever again his lieges complain,

The cruel Soulis shall die."

By traitorous sleight they seized the knight,
Before he rode or ran;

And through the key-stone of the vault
They plunged him, horse and man.

O, May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry-Green;

And May she was the fairest maid

That ever yet was seen.

O, May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry tower;

And who was it but cruel Lord Soulis,
That carried her from her bower!

He brought her to his castle gray,
By Hermitage's side;

Says, "Be content, my lovely May,
For thou shalt be my bride."

With her yellow hair, that glittered fair,
She dried the trickling tear!

She sighed the name of Branxholm's heir,-
The youth that loved her dear.

"Now be content, my bonny May!
And take it for your hame;

Or ever and aye shall ye rue the day
You heard young Branxholm's name.

"O'er Branxholm tower, ere the morning hour,
When the lift is like lead so blue;

The smoke shall roll white on the weary night,
And the flame shine dimly through."

Syne he's called on him Ringan Red,
A sturdy kemp was he;

From friend or foe, in Border-feud,
Who never a foot would flee.

Red-Ringan sped, and the spearmen Ied
Up Goranberry slack:

Ay! many a wight, unmatch'd in fight,
Who never more came back.

And bloody set the westering sun,
And bloody rose he up;

But little thought young Branxholm's heir,
Where he that night should sup.

He shot the roebuck on the lee,
The dun deer on the law;
The glamour sure was in his e'e,
When Ringan nigh did draw.

O'er heathy edge, through rustling sedge,

He sped till day was set;

And he thought it was his merry men true,

When he the spearmen met.

Far from relief, they seized the chief,
His men were far away;

Through Hermitage slack, they sent him back,

To Soulis Castle gray;

Syne onward far from Branxholm tower,

66

Where all his merry men lay.

"Now welcome, noble Branxholm's heir!

66

Thrice welcome," quoth Soulis to me;
Say, dost thou repair to my castle so fair,
My wedding guest to be ?—

And lovely May deserves, per fay!
A brideman such as thee."

(lift-sky.

And broad and bloody rose the sun,

And on the barmkin shone ;

When the page was aware of Red-Ringan there, Who came riding all alone.

To the gate of the tower, Lord Soulis he speeds,

As he lighted at the wall, Says, "Where did ye stable

my

stalwart steeds

And where do they tarry all?"

"We stabled them sure, on the Tarras Muir;
We stabled them sure," quoth he,—
"Before we could cross that quaking moss,
They all were lost but me."

He clenched his fist, and he knocked on the chest,
And he heard a stifled groan ;

And at the third knock, each rusty lock

Did open, one by one.

He turned away his eyes, as the lid did rise,
And he listened silently;

And he heard breathed slow, in murmurs low,
"Beware of a coming Tree!"

In muttering sound, the rest was drown'd,
No other word heard he;

But slow as it rose, the lid did close,
With the rusty padlocks three.

Now rose with Branxholm's ae brother,
The Teviot, high and low;

Bold Walter by name, of mickle fame,
For none could bend his bow.

O'er glen and glade, to Soulis there sped,
The fame of his array;

And that Teviotdale would soon assail

His towers and castle gray.

With clenched fist, he knocked on the chest,

And again he heard a groan;

And he raised his eyes, as the lid did rise-
But answer heard he none.

The charm was broke when the spirit spoke,
And it murmur'd sullenly;

"Shut fast the door, and for evermore
Commit to me the key.