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The Tyne
By Sir Thomas Dick Lauder


Our making choice of the Tyne as our next subject of description arises from no attention to systematic order; neither is it tho result of whim, but simply because it happens at this moment to be more convenient for us to deal with it than with any other stream. Our courteous reader must not imagine that we are about to pilfer a river from our southern neighbours, and that we are going to describe the boauties of that which passes Newcastle, and which has so long been remarkable for the immense cargoes of black diamonds which it has exported from Shields, its well known frea-port. We cannot say that the colour of its waters has been much improved by this traffic; as it has imparted to them no inconsiderable degree of tincture of the colour of the jewel for which it is famous. Were we disposed to bestow upon it a soubriquet calculated to distinguish it from our Scottish river, we should call it the inky Tyne, whilst to that which meanders through the rich agricultural scenes of East Lothian, we should very properly apply the epithet of golden, not only from the colour which the rich soil through which it runs imparts to it, but from the abundance of those golden harvests which are yielded on its banks. We must honestly tell you, dear ami, that we have naturally a strong affection for this river, arising from the circumstance that we first saw the light of heaven within less than half a mile, as the crow would fly, of its stream.

The Tyne has its origin from a small lake in Middleton-moor, in the parish of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian. One of the most interesting objects in its neighbourhood is the old castle of Cakemuir, which is still entire and inhabited. Tho most ancient part of it is a square tower which rises to the height of four stories, and is terminated by bold projecting battlements surrounding the roof. The date of its erection is not known, but the immense thickness of the walls and the style of its architecture would seem to carry it back to a very early period. Before it was purchased by the present Mr. Mackay of Blackcastle, it appears to have been in the possession of the Wauchopes of Cakemuir for at least 300 years. One of the apartments of the tower is called Queen Mary’s room, she having occupied it after having escaped, disguised in man’s apparel, from the castle of Borthwick, when it
was invested, in June 1567, by Lord Hume and his confederates, and before she went to join her husband Bothwell at Dunbar. As the surrounding lands form part of the lordship of Crichton, belonging at that time to Bothwell, the Wauchopes of Cakemuir then stood in the position of his vassals, and according to the custom of that age, were designed his servitours or servants. Near the castle of Cakemuir, there is a sycamore which measures twenty-six and a half feet in circumference.

The Tyne does not run so near to that very interesting old ruin, Borthwick Castle, as another stream which forms one of the principal tributaries to the Esk, and therefore we shall leave that ancient place of strength for after notice, when we come to describe that river; but it has its course through a wild pastoral valley, which, until these days of railway-making, was as retired as philosophic wanderer or happy lovers could have desired to linger, in. Now it is in the act of being bestrode by the enormous mounds and gigantic works of the Hawick railway, and consequently every thing like romance has been put to flight from its confines. We well remember its state when we first discovered it in the course of our youthful wanderings. The course of the stream arbitrarily straying from one side of the flat bottom to another, and again returning as it followed its devious windings through the deep alluvial soil of the valley, marked out by a few ragged alders and well-grown hollies here and there, and fringed with reeds and sedges, from which we often disturbed the lonely water-hen, or the little black ouzel, which, flitting before us, and alighting on some thin gravel bed, eyed us with curious jealousy ere he again pursued his flight. Little bosky thickets of hazel, blackthorn, and birch, showed themselves here and there, affording agreeable features in the scone; and these were hung in greater abundance upon tho steep banks by which it was on all sides enclosed, and from these some tall, cleanskinned young ashes shot up now and then, giving agreeable variety to the whole. When the sunshine of a summer’s day gladdened this simple little glen, with its cheerful rays, and when the feathered inhabitants of these little sylvan retreats came forth to unite their melodious voices together, he who could have passed through it without having his feelings exalted above the mere things of this earth, must indeed have been held to be as one of the inanimate clods of the valley. It was not in such an inert state of mind as this that, some years ago, we had our last ramble through this glen; but then indeed we had with us a companion whose conversation was enough to throw charms over the most uninteresting scene in nature, and whose intellectual observation was calculated to catch at and observe every, even the minutest of nature’s beauties, who saw all things with tho poet’s eye, and whose glowing language gave the brightest colouring to every thing we beheld. Oh, what a delightful day that was! We might, indeed, leave our reader to guess at the name of the highly-gifted individual to whom wo are now alluding, and if we did so, we have little doubt in our own minds that he would fix upon it correctly. But why should we hesitate to say that our companion was Professor Wilson, whose society made this one of the most charming rambles we ever had in our lives?

But of all times and seasons for visiting this simple valley in the mood of contemplation, none can be so happily chosen as a fine warm evening in the month of July, immediately after the sun has left the horizon, for then every bank and brae is lighted up with the most beautiful and minute illumination. This arises from the immense number of glow-worms that are bred among the thick herbage of the glen. Nothing can be more beautiful and interesting than to watch the progress of these tiny little torch-bearers, and it is impossible for the fanciful mind to regard them without supposing that the gay and merry groupes of the fairy-folk are following in their wake. It is worthy of remark, that as July is the month during which these appearances are most brilliant, they are likewise to be found throughout the month of August, but disappearing towards the end of it, they are not to be seen till next year.

During the crispy days of winter when the breeze blew fresh against the cheek, gently invigorating the whole man, how heart-inspiring it was to follow our friend Will Williamson when the hounds were threading the maze of the bottom in full cry after the fox, rousing every echo in succession as they swept along with their heads breast-high, the red coats seen flashing and sparkling through the thickets on either side, and all nature wearing an appearance of gladsome gaiety in unison with the sport. It was upon one of these occasions that old Reynard being hard pressed doubled back, and taking his course down the glen, made for Crichton Castle, a magnificent massive ruin, which forms the grand feature in the landscape, as it rises from a projecting terreplein within about a hundred yards of the top of the hill on the right bank. At that time, we believe, the court-yard, which has since been encumbered by the fall of a large portion of a massive north-eastern tower, was free from ruins, and it may be conceived how animating was the effect of this being speedily filled with the pack of hounds and the whole field of sportsmen. Never, we believe, during all the numerous assaults which it received in the time long gone by, when it was liable to be so frequently assailed by enemies, was there such a clamour heard within these walls. The old fox having cunningly dodged through divers apartments and long passages, and thus exciting the hounds to the top of their bent, at last found his way into a small apartment in the second storey, where there was a loophole window communicating directly beyond the outer wall. Out of this he scrambled, and so down the wall to the ground, and out at the same aperture poured the hounds close at his brush; but then, there being room for only one hound at a time to pass through the aperture, they came down in one continued string, exactly like a waterfall, affording, perhaps, one of the most extraordinary spectacles that are to be found in the annals of fox-hunting. It may be easily conceived, however great old Reynard’s taste may have been for such matters, that he did not, upon this occasion, indulge it by staying to gaze at this cataract of descending foes; and by putting forth his best speed, he soon secured his safety by getting to ground in the neighbouring cover.

The family of Crichton, to which this Castle owed its origin, played a distinguished part in the history of Scotland. John de Crichton had a charter of the barony of that name from Robert III. His son, Sir William de Crichton, appears to have been remarkable in this respect, that be rose into eminence from his political talents during an age when the rudeness of the times afforded little distinction to any one except for warlike achievements. He early attended the court, being one of the persons despatched to congratulate James I. on his marriage, and on the king’s return to Scotland, he became master of the royal household. Three years afterwards, he was one of the envoys sent to treat for the establishment of a perpetual peace with Erick, King of Denmark, and seems ever after to have been the personal favourite of his sovereign, and to have acted the part of a courtier and minister, with an address then very unusual in Scotland. In justice to this statesman, we ought to add, that to be the adherent of the crown during this period, was, in fact, to be the friend of civil liberty, and of the free administration of justice. The people, as yet, did not exist as an order of the state, and the immediate oppressors of law and freedom were the band of aristocratic nobility, who set the laws and authority of the sovereign at equal defiance.

After the murder of the King, the Queen fled with her son to place herself under the protection of Sir William Crichton, who then had the command of Edinburgh Castle; soon after which he was appointed Chancellor of the kingdom. Perhaps the greatest blot in his character was his share in the murder of the young Lord Douglas and his brother. Certain it is that a great jealousy had arisen of the increasing power of that family, which was not diminished by the imperious character of young Douglas himself; but the means taken for his destruction were treacherous and disgraceful in the extreme to all the actors in the tragedy, in which Crichton bore so prominent a part. The young Douglas and his brother having been invited to Crichton Castle, were treated with great kindness and hospitality, so much as to lead them, without suspicion, to visit the Castle of Edinburgh. There the mask was thrown off; they were seized, and in spite of the entreaties of the young King, they were subjected to a mock trial, taken to the back court of the castle, and there executed; their death giving origin to the rude distich which says—

“Edinborough Castle, town, and tower,
God grant you sink for sin,
And that even for the black dinoure
Earl Douglas gat therein."

The Douglases being aroused and enraged by this atrocity on the part of the Chancellor, attacked the Castle of Crichton, and dismantled it. We do not use the word demolished, which some historians employ, as we consider this quite incompatible with its after condition. Crichton maintained great influence during the greater part of this reign, and was chosen to go to France to treat for the marriage of the King with Mary of Gueldres, in consequence of which he was raised to the rank of Baron Crichton. He was afterwards present as one of the King’s party in Stirling Castle, when the then Earl of Douglas came thither, attended by Sir William Lauder of Hatton, on the King's invitation. James, after having failed by his arguments to persuade the Earl of Douglas to break his league with the Earls of Ross and Crawfurd against his sovereign, stabbed him with his dagger, when he was afterwards dispatched by twenty-six wounds given him by the king’s adherents, and thrown out of the window into a court yard below.

Crichton Castle remained in the hands of the Crichtons till the grandson of the Chancellor William, Lord Crichton, lost his favour with the King, James III., was banished, and his lands escheated; when it and some of his other domains were conferred by the King upon his favourite, Sir John Ramsay, with the title of Lord Bothwell. This is the individual to whom we have elsewhere alluded as having been the only one of the King’s favourites who was saved from the fury of Archibald Bell-the-Cat at Lauder Bridge. As he is one of our ancestors, we may be excused for mentioning, that after being compelled to lay down the title of Lord Bothwell, he retired into private life, and was the origin of the family of Ramsay of Balmain, which was afterwards lineally represented by the colebrated Sir Andrew Ramsay, Lord Abbotshall, father-in-law of Lord Fountainhall. On the death of James III., and consequent disgrace of Ramsay, the Castle and lands of Crichton were conferred on Patrick Hepburn, third Lord Hales, who was created Earl of Bothwell. His son, the second Earl of Bothwell, was killed at Flodden, and is thus noticed in the English poet, Wober’s poem, called Flodden Field:—

"But on the Scottish part right proud,
The Earl of Bothwell then outbrast;
And stepping forth with stomach good,
Into the enemy's throng he thrast.

"And I Bothwell, Bothwell!'—cried bold,
To excuse his soldiers to ensue;
But there he oatoht a welcome cold—
The Englishmen straight down him threw.

“Thus Qaburn through his hardy heart—
His fatal fine in conflict found;
Now. all this while, on cither part,
Were dealt full many a deadly wound.”

His son Patrick, third Earl of Bothwell, to whom the Castle came by descent, was the father of him so well known as the infamous Earl of Bothwell, from whom the Castle was taken by the Lords of the Congregation, in consequence of his having robbed them of 4000 crowns, when on their way from England to their treasury, as a secret subsidy from Queen Elizabeth. It was at Crichton Castle Sir John Stewart, her natural brother, was married in the presence of his sister, Queen Mary. James VI. afterwards conferred Crichton on Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, son of the Prior of Coldingham, who was a natural son of James V. This man afterwards conspired against the King, and was banished. Crichton Castle then fell into the hands of the Buccleuch family. Charles I. impolitically assigned it to Francis Stewart, son of the banished Earl; thus making enemies for himself of the powerful family of Buccleuch. The extravagance of Stewart soon caused his lands to fall into the hands of creditors. It was from his son, who was afterwards a common trooper, and who fought at Bothwell Bridge, that Sir Walter Scott took his character of Bothwell in his novel of Old Mortality. After passing through a variety of hands, Crichton Castle was purchased by Alexander Callendar, Esq., of Prestonhall, from whom it came into the possession of Mr. Callendar, the present proprietor.

Like most other Scottish castles, that of Crichton has been built at various periods; the most ancient part is a comparatively slender structure, resembling a peal tower, which now occupies tho north-western angle of the building. This was probably the stronghold of the Crichtons, before their family was raised to the eminence it acquired in the days of Sir William Crichton, the Chancellor. Then it was that the building, partaking of the prosperity which attended the family, grew to its present extent. It forms a large and formidable-looking quadrangle, the external appearance of which shows that it was more adapted for resisting the tide of war than for pleasing by the beauty of its architecture. But the buildings facing tho court-yard within display a great deal of architectural beauty of finish. Those on the north side embrace a hall of magnificent proportions, and this was approached by a stair of great grandeur, the soffits of which have been ornamented with cordage and rosettes carved in freestone. The front of this part of the building rises over a beautiful piazza, supported by Gothic columns, where various coats of arms are found in fine preservation. The pillars themselves have their capitals richly decorated with anchors entwined with cables; a style of ornament which would lead us to infer that this part of the building may belong to the time of tho Earls of Bothwell, who were High-Admirals of Scotland, and the work may thus be assigned to tho splendour of Earl Patrick, who was so well known for his taste for magnificence. Above the columns the stones of the whole face of the wall are cut into diamond facets, giving to it the richest possible appearance, and which is not, as we are at present aware, or can recollect, to be found in any other ancient Scottish building; and when the whole was in a state of perfect preservation, it must have had a most striking effect. The kitchen, the size of which is appropriate to the importance of the building, is in the north-eastern angle of the castle, and is now much obstructed by the fall of ruins. A large stone chimney in one of the apartments is generally noticed by those who have described the castle as being extremely curious, from its lintel being composed of three stones ingeniously dove-tailed into one another. But this mode of construction is by no means singular, the same being to he found in the Castle of Dunnottar and other old Scottish buildings. The dungeon, which forms an essential part of all old castles, and which, from its Moorish origin, is called the Massiemore, is here of great capacity, and is descended into, like all other places of confinement, by a trap-door in the arch. Sir Walter Scott tells us that in Scotland, formerly, as still in some parts of Greece, the great chieftains required, as an acknowledgment of their authority, that those who passed through their lands should repair to their castle, to explain the purpose of their journey, and receive the hospitality suited to their rank. To neglect this was held discourtesy in the great, and insolence in the inferior traveller; and so strictly was the etiquette insisted on by some feudal lords, that the Lord Oliphant is said to have planted guns at his castle of Newtyle in Angus, so as to command the high road, and compel all restive passengers to do this act of homage. It chanced when such ideas were predominant, that the Lord of Crichton Castle received intelligence that a southern chieftain of high rank, some say Scott of Buccleach, was to pass his dwelling on his return from court. Tho Lord Crichton made great preparation to banquet his expected guest, who, nevertheless, rode past the castle without paying the expected visit. In his first burst of indignation, the Baron pursued the discourteous traveller with a body of horse, made him prisoner, and confined him in the dungeon, while he himself and his vassals feasted upon tho good cheer which had been provided. With the morning, however, came reflection, and anxiety for the desperate feud which impended, as the necessary consequence of his rough proceeding. It is said, that by way of amende honorable, tho Baron, upon the second day, placed his compelled guest in his seat of honour in the hall, while he himself retired into his own dungeon, and thus did at once penance for his rashness, satisfied the honour of the stranger chief, and put a stop to the feud which must otherwise have taken place between them. We beg to remind our courteous reader, that we have already mentioned another instance of this custom in the earlier part of our description of the Tweed, as exemplified by Sir James Tweedie of Drumelzier. It is our belief that there may have been an outer wall of defence belonging to the castle, either embracing the chapel, or perhapsleaving it immediately without the external courtyard so formed by it.

As viewed under its present circumstances, one can form no notion of what Crichton Castle was in the olden time of its glory. It now presents four strong war-constructed fronts, having few points of interest about them, and it stands upon a bare prominence overhanging the glen, like a solitary sentinel, being devoid of any very picturesque features in its vicinity. The neighbouring gunpowder mills at Gore Bridge have devoured even the smallest bushes on the banks in the shape of charcoal for their manufacture. Fancy might that curiously imagine it possible that the bough, which had supported the downy nest of the callow younglings of some songster of the grove, may have been converted into an explosive powder which might deprive the wife of her husband, and make orphans of her children. When the whole glen and its neighbouring country were covered with wood, and as we may judge from the nature of the soil, chiefly of oak, it must have borne a very different appearance. We know that even the whole face of the distant Lauamermoors must have been covered with timber, and that the country was filled with animals of chace of all kinds. This we know from the circumstance that there still exists, on the slope of the hills, a curious little ruin called, in the language of the country, Fala Luggie, from the circumstance of its strong resemblance to one of those wooden ale-stoups, which are vulgarly called by that appellation. This was a hunting box belonging to the members of the royal house of Stuart; and when we come to look at its extremely pitiful dimensions, we are astonished to think that a royal personage could have even turned himself in its apartments, far less lodged there during the whole night. But Crichton Castle, when frowning over its extensive forests, must have had a very grand effect. It stands about ten miles from Edinburgh; and in those days, we doubt not that its lord, at the head of his gallant cortege, might have travelled to the very gates of the city under the shadeof
its trees.

The public interest in this castle has been much increased by the circumstance of Sir Walter Scott finding it convenient to bring his hero, Marmion, thither from Gifford, and to detain him there for two days. We hold the description of his evening walk with Sir David Lindsay on the battlements, during the second night of his visit, and especially the account given to him by the Lion of the strange supernatural appearance which manifesed itself to the king in the church at Linlithgow, to be very picturesquely told.

“At length up that wild dale they wind.
Where Crichtoun Castle crowns the bank ;
For there the Lion’s caro assigned
A lodging meet for Marmion’s rank.
That castle rises on the steep
Of the green vale of Tyne;
And far beneath, where alow they creep,
From pool to eddy dark and deep,
Where alders moist, and willows weep,
You hear her streams repine.
The towers in various ages roeo;
Their various architecture shows
The builders various hands;
A mighty mass, that could oppose.
When deadliest hatred fired its foes,
The vengeful Douglas bands.

“Crichtoun! though now thy miry court
But pens the lazy steer and sheep,
Thy turrets rude, and totter’d keep,
Have been tho minstrel’s loved resort.
Oft have I traced, within thy fort.
Of mould’ring shields tho mystic sense,
Scutcheons of honour or pretence,
Quarter’d in old armorial sort,
Remains of rude magnificence.
Nor wholly yet had time dctaced
Thy lordly gallery fair;
Nor yet the Btony cord unbraced,
Whose twisted knots, with roses laoed,
Adorn thy ruin’d stair.
Still rises unimpaiVd below,
Tho court-yard’s graceful portico;
Above its cornice, row and row
Of fair hewn facets richly show
Their pointed diamond form,
Though there but houseless cattle go,
To shield them from the storm.
And, shuddering, still may we explore,
Where oft whilom were captives pent,
The darkness of thy Massy More;
Or, from thy grass-grown battlement,
May trace in undulating line,
The sluggish mazes of tho Tyne.

“Another aspect Crichtoun show’d,
As through its portal Marmion rode;
But yet ’twos melancholy state
Received him at the outer gate;
For none were in the costlo then
But women, boys, or aged men.
With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame,
To welcome noble Marmion, eame;
Her son, a stripling twelve years old,
Proffer’d the Baron’s rein to hold;
For each man that could draw a sword
Had march’d that morning with their lord;
Earl Adam Hepburn,—he who died
On Flodden, by his sovereign’s side.
Long may his Lady look in vain!
She ne'er shall see his gallant train
Come sweeping back through Crichtoun Dean!
’Twas a brave race, before the namo
Of hated Bothwell stain'd their fame.

"And hero two days did Marmion rest,
With every rite that honour claims,
Attended os the King’s own guest;—
Such tho command of royal James,
Who marshall’d then his land's army
Upon tho Borough-Moor tint day;
Perchance he would not foeman’s eye
Upon his gathering host should pry,
Till full prepared was every band
To march against the English land.
Ilere, while they dwelt, did Lindsay’s wit
Oft cheer the Baron's moodier fit;
And, in his turn, ho knew to prize
Lord Marmion*s powerful mind, and wise,—
Train'd in the lore of Romo and Greece,
And policies of war and peace.

“It chanced, as fell the second night.
That on tho battlements they walk'd,
And, by the slowly fading light,
Of varying topics talk'd ;
And, unaware, the Ilemld-bard
Said, Marmion might his toil havo spared,
In travelling so far;
For that a messenger from heaven
In vain to James had counsel given
Against the English war;
And closer question'd, thus he told
A tale, which chronicles of old
In Scottish story have enroll’d:—

“Of all the palaces so fair,
Built for the royal dwelling,
In Scotland, far beyond compare,
Linlithgow is excelling;
And in its park, in jovial June,
How sweet tho merry linnets tune!
Uow blitho the blackbird’s lay!
The wild-buck bells from ferny brake,
Tho ooot dives merry on the lake,
The saddest heart might pleasure take
To see all nature gay.
But June is to our sovereign dear
The heaviest month in all the year:
Too well his cause of grief you know—
June saw his father’s overthrow.
Woe to the traitors who could bring
The princely boy against his king—
Still in his conscience burns the sting.
In offices as strict of Lent,
King James’8 Juno is ever spent.

"When last this ruthful month was come,
And in Linlithgow’s holy doino
The King, as wont, was praying;
While for his royal father’s soul
The chauntors sung, tho bells did toll,
The bishop mass was saying—
For now the year brought round again
The day tho luckless king was slain.
In Katherine's aisle the monnarch knelt,
With sackcloth shirt, and iron belt,
And eyes with sorrow streaming ;
Around him in their stalls of state
The Thistle’s knights-companions sate,
Their banners o’er them beaming.
I too was there, and sooth to tell,
Bedeafen’d with the jangling knell,
Was watching where the sunbeams fell,
Through the stain’d casement gleaming;
But, while I mark’d what noxt befell,
It seem'd as I were dreaming.
Stepp’d from the crowd a ghoitly wi;ht,
In azure gown, with cincture white;
His forohead bald, his head was bare,
Down hung at length his yellow hair.—
Now, mock me not, when good, my lord,
I pledge to you my knightly word,
That when I saw his placid grace,
His simple majesty of face,
His solemn bearing, and his paoo
So stately gliding on.
Seem'd to mo ne’er did limner paint
So just an image of the saint,
Who propp’d the Virgin in her faint,
The loved apostle John!

“I lie stopp’d before tho monarch’s chair,
And stood with rustic plainness there,
And little reverence made;
Nor head nor body bow’d nor bent.
But on the desk his arm he leant,
And words like thcso he said,
In a low voice—but never tone
So thrill’d through vein, and nerve, and bone
My mother sent me from afar,
Sir King, to warn thee not to war—
Woo waits on thine array;
If war thou wilt, of woman fair,
Her witching wiles and wanton snare,
James Stuart, doubly warn’d, beware:
God keep thee as he may!
The wondering monarch seem’d to seek
For answer, and found none;
And when he raised his head to speak,
The monitor was gone.
The Marshal and myself had cast
To stop him as he outward pass'd ;
But lighter than tho whirlwind’s blast
He vanish’d from our eyes.
Like sunbeam on tho billow cast,
That glances but and dies.’”

A quarter of a mile down the valley, and on the same bank, stands the Church of Crichton, with its ancient and venerable truncated tower, picturesquely situated in a grove of old trees. A very well preserved Roman camp is to be found at Lougfaugh, some distance beyond the church. This, however, is of far less importance than that which is well known all over the Lothians as “The Roman Camp,” which crowns the high grounds to the north of the Tyne, on the upper part of the Marquis of Lothian's property.

Following the course of the river down the glen from Crichton Church, we find that it begins to be richly wooded, and the path conducts you through many pretty little local scenes, to the beauty of which the stream has its share in contributing. The extensive woods of Vogrie House, which stands upon the left bank, have a large influence in producing these effects. There are some fine old trees about this place, and the shrubberies are very superb. A small tributary to the Tyne comes down through the glen in the wood, and altogether it is a place filled with growing amenity. The long village of Pathhead flanks either side of the Great London Road, on the high ground above the right bank of the river. The ancient ideas of road-making, contrasted with those that prevail in the present day, are nowhere so strikingly exemplified as at this particular spot. The old rood runs down a terrific inclination for a quarter of a mile to the little place of Ford, where, crossing the river, it proceeds in one straight line of steep ascent for about a couple of miles, to the top of the summit level above Dalkeith. But our much valued friend, the Earl of Stair, having, in his capacity of convener of the Dalkeith district, reared a magnificent bridge of five Roman arches, called the Lothian Bridge, in the very centre of the deep valley, so as to bring the road-way up to a level with its sides, has earned the road comparatively without rise to a lower point of the ridge, and this he has done by the additional means of an immense mound and cut; so that the road, instead of being dangerous in the highest degree, as it formerly was, is now safe and pleasant for those who are driving, and devoid of fatigue for the horses that have to pull the vehicle. We do not know a richer view anywhere in the kingdom than that which is enjoyed by the traveller coming from Edinburgh, after he has passed through the great cut in the hill, and opened upon the mound. He thence commands the whole valley of the Tyne, exhibiting the richest possible cultivation, intermingled with the parks of numerous gentlemen’s seats, with very extensive woods of fine timber, which are rarely to be met with in a country so devoted as this is to agriculture. The whole valley of the Tyne, and of East Lothian, as far as Haddington, is to be seen from hence, and the village of Ormiston, one of the prominent features, from its vicinity to the eye; the boundary to the north being the Garleton Hills, whilst it is shut in to the south by the long stretch of the Lammermoors, crowned by Lammerlaw. As we consider this extended view, which we have just described, as being of rare and singular beauty, so those of a more homely description, which are to be enjoyed from Lord Stair’s grand bridge, looking in either direction up or down the river, present a rich assemblage of groves of timber and lawn, especially that which is enjoyed by looking down the stream, where the eye travels along between the grounds of the two grand places of Prestonhall upon the right bank, and Oxenfoord Castle upon the left. Before leaving Pathhead, we may notice [that some great battle seems to have been fought near to it, an immense number of human bones having been dug up in its vicinity. We may easily conceive that many skirmishes and obstinate conflicts must have taken place in old times on the banks of the Tyne at this particular point, it being a pass of some difficulty, and of very great importance, as leading directly to Edinburgh.

Like Mr. Balwhidder, the reverend chronicler of the annals of the parish of Dalmailing, we have seen many changes in our day in the parish of Cranstoun. In the first place, we have seen no less than three successive parish churches. The first was situated very near to Oxenford Castle. It was burnt to the ground by fire communicated by a stove. A new church was then built by the heritors on the same site, but on the great extension of the grounds by the present Earl of Stair, then Sir John Hamilton Dalrymple, Baronet, he desired to remove it beyond his park wall, and having obtained the permission of the heritors for this purpose, he, at his own expense, built a very handsome Gothic church and tower, resembling those so frequently met with in England. Then as to the manse and glebe, we recollect them both situated upon the south side of the Tyne. The old manse stood near to Prestonhall, and although it was a very pretty little nest of itself, it was a great encroachment upon the grounds of that fine place. It seems to have been an ancient hospice connected with that of Soutra, and forming a stage between that place and Edinburgh. No date could be detected upon it, but over one of the windows the following inscription in the monkish style was legible:—“Diversorium infra, Habitaculum supra.” The manse and glebe are now transferred to the north side of the Tyne, where a very handsome manse, in the Elizabethan style, has been erected, at the sole expense of Mr. Callendar of Prestonhall, whose grounds were thus relieved of the encumbrance of tho old one. The extensive grounds of Prestonhall here occupying the right bank of the river, while those of Oxenfoord Castle occupy the left, give great richness to the scenery. The house of Prestonhall is a large and handsome structure, in the Grecian style, consisting of a centre, and two important wings connected with the main body by lower buildings. The approach from the west, running along the wooded bank of the river, is very beautiful. The timber here, and in the vicinity of the house, is of great growth; and we have ourselves had occasion to notice in other works some extraordinary measurements. As the course of the river here runs through the park of Oxenfoord Castle, the want of it has been supplied by some extremely happily-constructed ponds of large size, of beautiful outline, and richly bordered by ancient evergreens. The banks, which slope to the north, are varied in surface, possessing a number of charming little dells running transversely down towards the valley. The ponds, and indeed the whole landscape gardening of Prestonhall, were executed many years ago by the then proprietor, Lord Adam Gordon, who was grand-uncle of the last Duke of Gordon. He was for a long while Commander-in-Chief in Scotland, and we ourselves can just recollect to have seen his tall spare form, and extremely benevolent countenance, as, clad in the uniform of Lieut.-General, and surrounded by his staff, he used to inspect and review the regiments upon Burntsfield Links. Whilst proprietor of Prestonhall, he resided there with his wife, the Dowager Duchess of Athol, whom he married in 1767, and where he kept one of the most hospitable houses in Scotland. Our father, who, as his near neighbour and intimate friend, used to be much there, has told us that the house was always full. He was up every morning by five o’clock, and got through all his official business before breakfast. After that meal, he informed his friends that there were horses, dogs, guns, and fishing-rods at their command, so that each might follow his own pursuit. “As for me, gentlemen,” said he, “I am going on my usual inspection of works, and I shall be happy to have the company of any one who may feel disposed to honour me so far.” This inspection of works occupied the whole day till dinner-time, for he had gangs of workmen employed in various parts of the grounds, all of whom he visited in succession, giving his own directions to them. His table was first-rate, and his wines of first-rate quality, and he was no niggard of them. The Duchess of course laid out her day for her own amusements, and that of the ladies, selecting such of the gentlemen as she chose to form her parties. Lord Adam was the most generous man in the world. He would ask our father to go with him to look at a lot of queys or colts, in order that he might give him his opinion as to which was the best, and when he had returned home a day or two afterwards, he was much surprised to learn that the animal had been sent orer to him from Prestonhall as a present, so that it became absolutely necessary for a person of any delicacy to beware of praising anything that he saw at Prestonhall When he had completed the improvements of the place according to his own ideas, and that there really remained little or nothing more to be done, he sold it, and afterwards bought the ram in the north, for the embellishment of which place he set himself to work with renewed alacrity. The trees which Lord Adam planted at Prestonhall are now well grown, and all that it can want in the way of embellishment is the opening of of the grounds here and there, whieh perhaps might be done in certain directions with good effect.

The alterations and improvements on the grounds of Oxenfoord Castle have been very great, since we first recollect them in the days of our youth. The place was then confined very much by two roads, one running past the church, and the other down to the Tyne, a little to the westward of the house. Between the church and the Castle there was a deep ravine, which still exists; and the timber within tho wall was of great magnitude, supporting a colony of rooks, whose cawing added to the venerable appearance of the place. Everything, indeed, about it was venerable, except the Castle itself, which, though a large structure, was one of those anomalies in architecture which Adam, the architect, invented, and chose to dignify with the name of Castle. Strange it was, that an architect who had so much good taste in other styles, should have been led to adopt this! He seems to have considered that every bit of the external wall should have a window, loophole, or slit in it; and where no such thing was required for convenience within, a mock opening was made externally. Is it not wonderful, that a man who had only to go a few miles to see Borthwick Castle, Crichton Castle, and Elphinstone Tower, all of which are of so different a character, should have been led to produce anything of this kind, particularly as he had the nucleus of an old castle to work upon? Our friend, the Earl of Stair, has since done all that a man of taste could do, by a very large addition, to improve the general contour and character of the building; and this so far predominates over the whole, as in a certain degree to extinguish the anomaly of the other parts, be that it now altogether constitutes a very imposing structure in relation to the surrounding scenery. The boundaries of the place are now so extended as to enclose a very large park. The newer parts of this have been planted with great judgment, and with such care in regard to the trees as must ensure their coming rapidly to maturity. But towards the vicinity of the house, the ancient groves of timber come into play with the happiest effect. Following the example set him by his ancestor, Marshal Stair, at Castle Kennedy, in Wigtonshire, the noble proprietor has cut the lawn behind the house into terraces and slopes, in the old style of landscape gardening. This has produced more thinness in the shrubbery in this quarter than is altogether desirable, but this will be improved by the growth of a few years. The deep ravine to the north is filled with a wilderness of shrubs; and his lordship contemplates the conversion of the ancient pariah burying-ground into a place of the choicest beauty of retirement, as has been done at Castle Craig, and at Minto. The site of the Castle is very commanding. The eye drops directly down a steep bank into the hollow valley below, and follows the course of the Tyne downward through a long retiring lawn, flanked by banks of fine timber, whence it sweeps down the country towards Ormiston and Winton. A tributary brook enters the park from the north-west, through a beautiful, narrow, wooded glen, rendered accessible by a footpath which runs under a bridge on the great road. This is replete with beautiful little local scenes. To add to the grandeur of the Castle, and to give it its proper character, the platform in front must be converted into a great court-yard, entering under an archway from the bridge over the ravine, and having another archway to the south. All this will be probably added to the Castle in due time.

There are some curious remains on the estate of Cousland, belonging to Lord Stair; and although they are at some distance from the mansion, we cannot pass them by without notice. They are situated upon the high ridge, several miles to the north. The Castle and village were burnt by Somerset, when he invaded Scotland with his powerful army, to enforce the marriage of Queen Mary with the young King of England — a mode of courtship which was considered, even in those times, to be rather rough. Some extensive ruins are to be seen upon the south side of the village. Tradition says that these are the remains of a nunnery, but no authentic account of them can be discovered. They chiefly consist of two enclosures of considerable extent, surrounded by high walls. That called the White Dyke is 24 feet high, and the rest vary in height from 5 to 11. They seem to have been the orchards belonging to some religious house, for cherry trees and gooseberry bushes were still growing in them some few years ago. There was a church-yard here, and the end of the ruined chapel bad a bell hanging in it, which was carried off by some tinkers, in the recollection of the people still alive. The supposition is that this was a religious foundation, dedicated to St. Bartholomew, for there are some acres of ground to the southward, which retain the name of Bartholomew’s Firlot. We must not forget to mention that a family of the name of Foster having come from the north of England, and taken what is called the surface coal of Cousland, were engaged in pulling down part of the old wall in order to use the material for some building purpose. They were much astonished to see a stream of gold pieces issue from a crevice. Of course they took care that nobody but themselves should be aware of the extent of this treasure; but certain it is, that when they returned to England, they set up in a style of life very much above that in which they had formerly lived.

The noble proprietor of Oxenfoord has effected great agricultural improvements both here and on his extensive estates in Wigtonshire, He has been long known as a decided, uncompromising, and unvarying Whig and Reformer, and has been deservedly placed by universal consent at the head of tho Whig interest in Scotland. We have long enjoyed his friendship, and have recently had the honour of becoming connected with him; and we can with truth affirm, that the pride which we have in regard to this arises more from our admiration of his honest consistency than from the high rank which he possesses.

It is remarkable, that looking down the whole course of the Tyne to the sea, from our present rather elevated position, we cannot discover or remember any place which has fostered the genius of the muse, with one exception, to be afterwards noticed; but on the other hand, there is hardly a gentleman’s seat in the whole course of the stream that has not given birth to some distinguished character. The family of Dalrymple, besides other remarkable men, has produced Sir David Dalrymple of Hailes, a member of the Faculty of Advocates, created a Baronet 8th May, 1700, who was Member of Parliament for Culross, Solicitor-General to Queen Anne, and a Commissioner for the treaty of Union. His son, Sir James Dalrymple of Hailes, also a Member of Parliament, was the author of Dalrymple’s Scottish History, a very curious book. His son, Sir David Dalrymple, Lord Hailes, Judge of the Court of Session, was the learned and accomplished author of the Annals of Scotland. But the most brilliant character of this family was John, second Earl of Stair, the Field-Marshal. His life commenced under most distressing auspices, for while yet a mere boy, he had the misfortune to shoot his elder brother with fire-arms, with which they were incautiously playing together. The young lord was killed on the spot. His unhappy parents could not afterwards bear to look on their son, who had produced so great a calamity, and in order to keep him out of their sight, they banished him to Ayrshire, where he was put to reside with a clergyman. The character of his pupil gradually expanded itself so favourably, that the reverend gentleman, who was fortunately a man of sound sense, formed the highest idea of the youth’s powers of mind, and made the most favourable reports regarding him to his family, and these, backed by much intercession, at last effected their object so far, that he was put into the army with all the advantages attendant upon his rank. Becoming the companion in arms of the Duke of Marlborough, he particularly distinguished himself at the battles of Hamillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, and rose to the highest rank in his profession. He was afterwards sent to Paris as ambassador extraordinary to Louis XIV. There his wonderful powers of acquiring information enabled him to discover all the Jacobite intrigues, and to keep the Court of France in check with regard to them. Lord Stair was very remarkable for his knowledge of good breeding, and on some of the courtiers having occasion to mention to the French King that the Field-Marshal was held to be the best bred man in Europe, “I shall soon put that to the test,” said Louis; and having ordered his carriage, and signified to Lord Stair his desire that he should accompany him in an airing, he followed his Majesty to the door of the vehicle. There the King suddenly stood aside, and motioned to the Earl to precede him, when his lordship immediately bowed and obeyed. “He is the best bred man in Europe,” said the King afterwards to his former informant; “had he been otherwise, he would have kept me standing for some time unnecessarily.” It was entirely owing to the admirable diplomacy of Marshal Stair that the security of the newly-acquired throne of Goorge I. was preserved, so far as the neutrality* of France was concerned.

To descend by a sudden and curious flight from field-marshals to fish, we have now to mention that all this upper part of the Tyne enjoys its proportion of the finny race. The monarch of the brook may perhaps be here and there enticed from some deepish hole beneath the tangled roots of a projecting aider, by a short line, with a bait hook being thrust in, and brought immediately within his cognizance. This refers chiefly to that part of the stream which is above Ford; but after it enters the Oxenfoord grounds, it becomes assailable by the fly, and with this implement, a fair dish of trout, of a very small size, may be caught, so as to afford two or three hours of very pretty angling ; and to dismiss this matter, as regards the river, for a certain distance downwards, we may say that this is very much the state of the case for some three or four miles till we get below the village of Pencaitland.

Escaping from the grounds of Oxenfoord and Prestonhall, and at the same time from the county of Mid-Lothian, the Tyne enters the parish of Ormiston in East Lothian. Before doing so it receives from the north a small tributary at a place called Whitebouse Mill. This descends from Mr. North Dalrymple’s property of Fordel. The country here, on both sides, is entirely English in appearance, the river running slowly in a deep alluvial bed through meadows, and the fields being every where divided by hedgerow trees; and at the distance of about a couple of miles, it passes the village of Ormiston, occupying, as it were, the central point of the valley, and with the red-tiled roofs of its houses rising here and there over the trees in which it is embosomed. Its street possesses the width of an English village, and from the centre of it a rude but ancient cross arises. A Gothic chapel stood near this cross, the remains of which existed in the recollection of the fathers of some old inhabitants not long dead. The village has now a certain air of decay about it, but in our younger days we recollect that some of its best houses were inhabited by respectable individuals of demi-fortune, who came hero to live cheap—so that it afforded a quiet, genteel, and innocent society.

The rising grounds at some distance to the south of the village are covered with the extensive and united woods of Ormiston Hall, Woodhall, and Fountainhall, so as to form a sylvan district of so great magnitude, as, when we consider the rich agricultural country in which it is situated, might almost be termed a forest. Ormiston Hall may probably be considered by such individuals as have less romance in their compositions than we profess ourselves to have, to be a dull sejour, from the immense quantity of wood by which it is surrounded; but we have a very different feeling in regard to it, as we consider it a most delightfhl retirement. The oldest part of the house dates of the time of the Cockburns of Ormiston, and is of that tea-canister style of architecture that prevailed at the period. Three additions hare been made to it in the same style, one tea-canister being added alongside of another, till the accomodation wanted was completed; but as it is a house of no external pretension, it gives no offence, and is extremely comfortable in the interior. Of this we can speak from experience, having spent the greater part of the last summer there as the guest of our son-in-law, Mr. Mitchell Innes, who now rents it. The house fronts the east, and in that direction an extensive park, of very considerable breadth, stretches away until lost in the distant woods, whence the eye travels through the vista of the valley of the Tyne. This park is bounded everywhere else by the woods, which throw promontories of magnificent trees into it here and there. On the south side of the house, and immediately behind it, part of the ancient garden has been converted, with the happiest success, into a flower-garden, redolent of roses, mingled with shrubbery; and the natural manner in which this sweeps into, and blends with, the lawn without and wood beyond, produces the most pleasing effect, while an advance-guard of some of the oldest and most magnificent trees, chiefly beeches, chestnuts, limes, and walnuts, come sweeping from the wood round to the westward. This flower-garden is remarkable for the immense height of the evergreens, of which its thickets are composed; but one tree requires especial notice — this is the celebrated yew; the age of this tree must be immense, and it is in the most perfect state of preservation. There was found, some years ago, among the papers belonging to the Earl of Hopetoun, conveyed to him by the Cockburn family, a lease of a piece of ground in the vicinity, granted by the head of the religious establishment at Ormiston, and signed under the yew tree. It was beautifully written on a piece of parchment, which is now said to be in some way or other amissing — the date of which, however, according to the recollection of the gentlemen who saw it, was 1474. At this moment the yew is in the fullest vigour of growth, and presents, perhaps, one of the finest objects, as a vegetable production, that Scotland can exhibit. We recollect very well, that in our younger days our worthy father, who was curious in such matters, used to measure it annually, and found its increment to he never less than an inch in the year. We have not thought of measuring it lately, but we shall now quote from our own edition of “Gilpin’s Forest Scenery,” published in 1834, where we have given the measurement as accurately taken at that time, and we have no doubt it has considerably increased since:—“

It throws out its vast limbs horizontally in all directions, supporting a large and luxuriant head, which now covers an area of ground of fifty-eight feet in diameter, with a most impenetrable shade. Above tho roots it measures twelve feet nine inches in girth; at three feet up, it measures thirteen feet half an inch; at four feet up, it measures fourteen feet nine inches; and at five feet up, it measures seventeen feet eight inches in girth.” In this garden there arc some remarkable old fig-trees, producing exquisite fruit in so great abundance, as to have furnished this season a supply, for more than a month, of figs which were found to be not inferior to those which we have eaten anywhere abroad.

To the north of the house, what is called Ormiston Hall Dean runs in a direction from west to east. This is one of the most beautiful features about the whole place. The trees in it may be said to be of gigantic size; and our friend, Mr. Milne, the Commissioner of Woods and Forests, who visited it last summer, declared that he had not believed that Scotland could show anything like it. The interest of this charming wilderness, which has been made accessible by walks, is much increased by the circumstance of a very whimsical tributary of the Tyne having its passage through it; and as there is nothing to notice upon the rest of its course, until it joins the river above Wintoun, we shall finally discuss it here. Its waters are drawn, in a great measure, from the old coal-wastes which have perforated the ground here, in some places like the burrowing of rabbits. At one time it is seen dancing along, and glittering beneath some ray of light, accidentally perforating the foliage above; at another, as if its naiad were alarmed by the approaching foot of meditation, it hurries into a cavernous opening, and disappears under ground. Anon it again rashes forth between banks luxuriantly friuged with plants of the richest character for the foreground of the artist, affording subjects that Ruysdael or Hobbima might have coveted to have painted. An artist fond of such subjects as these, of sylvan scenery in general, might devote a lifetime to study in the Dean alone. How happy were those days of our youth when we, during our solitary walks, used to bury ourselves in its depths, and there, undisturbed by the approach of any human being, devote ourselves for hours to our pencil!

But to us the great charm of Ormiston Hall is the extent of the surrounding woods, and the great growth of the trees. There it was that in former days we delighted to lose ourselves amidst its solitudes, wandering without an object for hours together. There we would now and then break into the more open ground, where the trees grew thinner, and the under- growth of shrubbery was more luxuriant, and the light came cheerfully down to illuminate the various scenes wo passed through; and there the rich profusion of flowers, beds of anemones, ranunculuses, wood-sorrel, violets, and their numerous associates, with Milton’s own “nodding avens,” are found in profusion. There the silence of our steps would give us a transient peep at the sly fox as he came stealing through the broad leaves of the ferns; and the pheasant would often startle us by rising from our side. Then, again, we found places of several acres in extent, covered by trees so tall as to roar their canopy of umbrage to an inconceivable height above our heads. In such places, the surface of the earth being deprived of its tribute of moisture from the clouds, produced no vegetation, and consequently it was covered with the dried leaves of the previous year — producing altogether a most American effect. There we would stop to listen, while the hot summer’s sun above our heads was poaring its most powerful influence upon the tops of the trees; whilst all below was coolness and unbroken shade; every harsh, sound was silenced—even the slumberous cooing of the ringdove came at long intervals from a distance, as if the bird was too much oppressed by the heat to repeat it oftener; and the mingled hum of countless millions of insects hung in the air above us. Who could be so circumstanced without thinking of the endless power of the great God of Love, whose all-pervading spirit was giving happiness to so many of His creatures, each individual of whom, constructed with organs of the most delicate formation, was as much an object of care to Him as was man himself. Where could we have found a cathedral wrought by human hands for meditative worship equal to this? But we must put an end to our indulgence in these ancient recollections.

And yet there is an immense population, which, we may say, is hereditarily connected with these woods, that we cannot pass over unnoticed—we mean the rooks, who have probably used these woods as a place of nightly roost from a period as far back as the earlier days of the Cookburns, who were the lords of the soil. We had a daily opportunity of watching their operations last summer, and we found them to be precisely the same that had been adopted by their ancestors in the days of our youth. When the grey dawn of morning first begins to appear, and this long before the sun visits the horizon, this immense winged nation rises at once, as if by word of command, from the upper boughs of the trees, where they have been lodging for the night. For a short time they refrain from employing their throats in cawing, but the sound of their wings is so powerful as to resound in the most sublime manner through the whole of the woods. Having soared perpendicularly upwards, and gained a sufficient altitude, their chorus of cawing begins, producing what we consider a species of rural harmony, and they proceed to wheel round in circles for a considerable time. At length, dividing themselves in several corps d'armee, each goes off in a straight line for a short distance towards a point of the compass different from that of the others, and there, after a series of circles in the air, it settles down in some large field, the surface of which becomes black with this strange population. Again, after counsel having been duly held, this body rises into the air, wheels in many a cawing circle, and breaks off in gome three or four grand divisions, which proceed onwards in different lines. Following one of these, we find that it settles down in a field in the same way as its particular corps did, holds the same counsel, rises again into the air, again subdivides itself, each smaller division proceeding onwards in its own line, and when strictly pursued, so as to watch its proceedings, we at last find that it is divided and subdivided, until it is left scattered over the country in parties consisting of two or three individuals, who go on, each foraging for himself, to procure a maintenance; and thus they are occupied till an hour or two before the approach of evening. Then the manoeuvres of the morning begin to be repeated, but in inverse order. The little parties meet for re-union at their various places of rendezvous; the complement of each being fully made up, it proceeds onwards to the next field of meeting, where it unites with the other bodies from which it separated in the morning; and so the whole predeed onwards, accumulating, as they go, in the same manner as they formerly divided themselves, and at the same places where these divisions took place, until they all assemble from different points of the compass in the great field where they first settled. Then it is that, rising again into the air, they seem to consider it necessary to show off their taotics to the greatest advantage, and an hour and sometimes more is consumed in the execution of a variety of evolutions, which are perfectly beautiful in themselves. At last, being all collected together, the vast army again rises into the clouds, immediately over the woods which contain their dormitory, and wheeling round and round, circle within circle, and gradually sinking nearer and nearer towards their place of rest, they all of a sudden drop into it at once; after which, boyond the impatient flap of a wing, or peevish caw, occasioned by the intrusion of one individual upon the space adopted by another, no sound is heard, and in a very few minutes all is so quiet, that no one passing could believe that so immense a population was roosting in the trees over his head.

During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries Ormiston Hall belonged to a family of the name of Orme, after which it became the property of the Lindsays, from whose hands it came by marriage into the possession of the Cookburns, to whom it was confirmed by a charter of King David Brace, in 1308. John Cockburn, tbe first possessor, and his son, were constables of Haddington, an office which was for a long time hereditary in the family. We learn, from the statistical account of the parish, that in 1542, Patrick, a descendant of the family, distinguished himself by a gallant defence of the Castle of Dalkeith, against James, ninth Earl of Douglas, who had risen in rebellion, on account of the murder of his brother William, the eighth Earl. Cockburn having obtained the command of the town, put himself at the head of the King’s troops, defeated the rebels, though his army was inferior to theirs, and obliged them to retire. The family appear to have been strongly  attached to the Reformation; so much so, that Sir Alexander Cockburn committed the education of his son, Alexander, to John Knox, the Reformer, who speaks of him in his history as possessed of great accomplishments; and Buchanan wrote two elegies upon his death, which took place at the early age of twenty-eight. In the aisle of the old chapel at Ormiston Hall there is a brazen tablet, with the following inscription to his memory:—

Omnia ovro longa indulget mortalibus rotas Ilroc tibi Alexander prima juventa dcdit.
Cum genere et forma generoae sanguine digno, Excoiuit virtus anemum ingenioauin camenro Successu studio consilios pari His ducibus primum parata Britannia deinde Doctus ibi linguas ovros Roma, Sion, et Athenro; Quas cum Germano, Gallia docta sonat Non immature finere raptus obis; Omnibus officiis vita qui funetus obivit. Non fas hunc vita est de brevitate gucri. His conditur Alexander Cockburn Primogcniut Joann is domini Ormistoniet Alison Sandilands, ese preclara fain ilia Calder, qui natus 13 Januaii 1535 post msignem linguarum pro&ssionem. Obiit anno rotatis sum 28 onlead. septan.


The River Tyne, its History and Resources
By James Guthrie (1880)

 


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