The moonbeams kyst the circling surge, Their course beneath her forests green. Fair Margaret's form was lovely light, So melting soft these accents fell She heard the voice, it seem'd more sweet She past the gate, the moonbeam slept And tears of balm the birches wept, That o'er her head their branches threw. She flew to clasp her much lov'd lord. She met the fell assassin's sword, And there a bleeding victim lay. That breast, more white than April snows, And there, beneath the silver moon, Her's is the spectral form still seen Where bloom the opening birken bowers. FUNERAL CROSS AT MERKLAND. On the banks of the Kirtle, about two miles below Kirkconnel, stands the beautiful funeral cross of Merkland. Its shaft is not less than ten or twelve feet in height, of a conoidical form; the base or pedestal is nearly two feet in height. The top consists of four fleurs de-lis, cut out of the solid stone, so as to form a square; each side measures nearly two feet. The account of the origin of this structure is as follows: In 1483, the Duke of Albany and the Earl of Douglas, who had for some time been exiles in England, wishing to learn the dispositions of their countrymen towards them, made an incursion into their native country, and plundered the market of Lockmaben. In the meantime, Sir John Maxwell, son of Baron Maxwell, of Caerlaverock, Lord Warden of the west marches, having received intelligence of this incursion, assembled his friends and retainers, in order to repel and chastise the insolence of these depredators. Having pursued them closely, he came up with them at Burnswark-hill, where the action commenced, and was fought on to Kirkconnel, where Douglas was taken prisoner, but the Duke made his escape. (Douglas was long confined in the Bell's Castle, a border fortalice a few miles from Kirkconnel.) Having now recovered the booty, and obtained a complete victory, Maxwell was pursuing the remains of the rebel army, and being wearied with the fatigues of the engagement, and the wounds he had received in battle, was supporting himself upon a spear, its handle resting upon the crutch of his saddle, when one Gass, from Commertrees, who had fought with him in the engagement, coming up, thrust him through the body with his sword, on account of a sentence which he, as master warden of the marches, had passed upon a cousin of Gass's. The cross is said to have been erected upon the spot where Maxwell fell, by his father, the Baron de Caerlaverock, to perpetuate the remembrance of that execrable deed to posterity. FUNERAL PILLAR AT KIRKCONNEL. In the church-yard of Kirkconnel, in Dumfrieshire, is still to be seen the tomb-stone placed over the remains of "Fair Helen," and her favourite lover, Fleming de Kirkpatricke. As her story is strikingly romantic, no apology is made for inserting it in this place. Helen Irving, a young lady of the most exquisite beauty and accomplishment, daughter of Mr. Irving, Laird of Kirkconnel, was beloved by two gentlemen, chiefs of their respective clans, Fleming, of Redhill, and Bell of Blacketthouse. Fleming, on account of his virtues and valour, became at once the favourite of the lady; while Bell for his bloody and ferocious deeds, was universally detested. Jealous of this preference, and the marked disdain of his rival, Bell became the inveterate foe of Fleming, vowing upon him and Helen the most implacable revenge. For this purpose, having traced the lovers in one of their nocturnal rambles along the sweet sequestered banks of the Kirtle, as they listened with emotions of delight to the 66 vesper chant of nature from its embowering spray," and formed ideal visions of never-to-be-realized felicity, just as the moon, emerging from behind a dark cloud, shone full upon the vestal robes of Fair Helen; he sprang on a sudden from behind a bush, and levelled his deadly tube at Fleming's breast Helen hearing his well-known voice, as he exclaimed, with a hellish tone, "Die, traitor, die," threw herself into his arms, received the contents in her bosom, and bled to death upon the spot. A desperate and mortal combat ensued between Fleming and the murderer, in which Bell was literally cut to pieces. A large cairne of stones was reared over the spot where the villain fell, as a token of abhorrence for the relics of him who was mouldering below. The inconsolable lover, sinking under the poignant pangs of despair, left a country in which he had now no pleasure, enlisted under the banners of Spain, and fought for a season against the "Heathen hound Mahoun," "the Infidels and Moors of Barbary." The impression, however, in that age of romance and chevalrie, when it was accounted honourable permanently to indulge the tender passions was not obliterated. He returned to Scotland, stretched himself upon the grave, where the treasure of his soul was reposed, and expired upon its breast, calling upon her name to the last of his breath. One grave contains them both, and over their ashes is laid a beautiful tomb-stone, on which is engraved a cross and sword, with the following inscription: Hic Jacet, Adamus Fleming." The above catastrophe took place during the reign of that beautiful, but unfortunate Princes, Mary Stewart, Queen of Scotland. A cross was erected upon the spot where Fair Helen fell; it is nearly nine feet in height, and fourteen inches in the side of the square; its arms project nearly eighteen inches, but some modern Goth has broken off a part of the eastern one, and rendered it incomplete. It is of the white siliceous gnit from the Cove quarries, but rude and unpolished. We shall conclude these volumes with the following letters, which it is believed have not appeared in any other shape since they were first published, fourteen years ago, in the Scot's Magazíne. PAUL JONES. Few of our readers who have not heard of that daring naval adventurer, Paul Jones, and it is not yet too late for many of them to recollect the alarm and terror which his name spread along our coasts during the war at that time with America. He was the son of a small farmer a few miles from Dumfries, and impelled by that love of enterprize which is so frequently to be met with among the peasantry of Scotland, seems to have eagerly embarked in the cause of the colonies against the mother country. Whether he was actuated in any degree by a sense of the injustice of Briton towards America, at the outset of his career, or merely availed himself of the opportunities in which revolutionary warfare so greatly abounds to rise from his original obscurity, it is now perhaps impossible to-determine, and unnecessary to inquire. But it will be seen by the letters we are about to lay before our readers, that in the progress of his adventurous life, he well knew how to employ the language of men inspired with the love of liberty, and that he was honoured by some of its warmest friends in both hemispheres. PLUNDER OF LADY SELKIRK'S HOUSE. It is far from our intention to offer anything in justification of the very capricious parts Paul Jones acted against this his native country; yet it is impossible not to admire the gentle and kindly feelings which directed his conduct towards Lady Selkirk, so opposite to the character of a pirate as he was represented to be, and the very handsome manner in which he repaired the injury which policy perhaps compelled him to inflict. There are probably very few instances, especially among adventurers, that have arisen from the condition in which Paul Jones was originally placed, of more enlarged views, more generous feelings, and a more disinterested conduct, than the following letters exhibit, combined as these are with sentiments of relentless hostility, towards the claims of his native country. |