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God wot! full many a pagan must in his saddle reel:
What leech may cure, what beadsman shrive, if once that weight ye feel?
But when Don Alvar saw him thus bruising down the foe,
Quoth he, "I've seen some flail-arm'd man belabour barley so:
Sure mortal mould did ne'er enfold such mastery of
Let's call Diego Perez the Pounder from this
WHENCE is the secret charm of this lone wood,
Of other scenes, which from afar do come,
Here; I am dwelling in the days gone by-
In which the joyous wildflower meekly feeds,-
With heart as open as the naked sea,
This blue, deep sky-that sun so proudly setting
The shadowy dell-these trees so tall and fair,
Things, that will feed the cravings of my mind.
And therefore it may be my soul ne'er sleeps,
And such may be the charm of this lone wood,
The Old Scottish Cavalier'.
COME, listen to another song,
And of a baron stout and bold
As e'er wore sword on thigh:
Like a brave old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time.
1 The hero of this spirited poem is Alexander Forbes Lord Pitsligo, whom Professor Aytoun, in his introduction to the song, calls "the best type of the Lowland cavalier of the period" (1715-1760). The professor goes on to inform us that Lord Pitsligo having been educated abroad and early introduced to the circle at St. Germain's, conceived a deep personal attachment to the members of the exiled line, that he was the intimate friend of Fénélon, and throughout his whole life was remarkable rather for his piety and virtue than for keenness in political dispute. Upon the death of Queen Anne he joined himself in arms with a general insurrection of the Highlanders and Jacobites, headed by the Earl of Mar. On the dissolution of this confederacy Lord Pitsligo, with others, was compelled to fly abroad and remained in exile five or six years. He returned
He kept his castle in the north,
Hard by the thundering Spey :
And a thousand vassals dwelt around,
And not a man of all that clan
Had ever ceased to pray
For the royal race they loved so well,
From the stedfast Scottish cavaliers,
His father drew the righteous sword
And chiefs of ancient names
to Scotland in 1720, and resided at his castle in Aberdeenshire, not mingling in public affairs but gaining, through his charity, kindness, and benevolence, the respect and affection of all around him. He was sixty-seven years of age when Charles Edward landed in Scotland, and after considerable hesitation he determined to put himself at the head of the Jacobite gentry of his neighbourhood. They formed a body of well-armed cavalry, gentlemen and their servants, to the number of a hundred men. When they were drawn up in readiness to commence the expedition, the venerable nobleman their leader moved to their front, lifted his hat and looking up to heaven pronounced with a solemn voice the awful appeal "O Lord, Thou knowest that our cause is just!" then added the signal for departure, "March, gentlemen!" After Culloden he became like many more a fugitive and an outlaw; but he succeeded like the Baron of Bradwardine in finding a shelter upon the skirts of his own estate. For ten years he remained concealed, and his adventures and escapes are rather more romantic and extraordinary than those of other Jacobite gentlemen. After the lapse of many years he was permitted to remain without molestation at the residence of his son, where he died in 1762, at the age of 85 The whole of Professor Aytoun's note will repay perusal.
Who swore to fight, or fall beneath
He never own'd the foreign rule,
But kept his clan in peace at home,
And when they ask'd him for his oath,
And pointed to his bonnet blue,
That bore the white cockade:
Like a leat old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time.
At length the news ran through the land
The prince had come again!
That night the fiery cross was sped
O'er mountain and through glen;
And our old baron rose in might,
And rode away across the hills
To Charlie and his
With the valiant Scottish cavaliers,
He was the first that bent the knee