THE FEATS AND FORTUNES OF RICHARD THE REIVER; COMMONLY CALLED DOUBLE-RIBBED DICK. (Continued from our December No.) PART II.-THE TRIAL. THE intelligence of Dick's capture flew like wildfire through the town and over the country. It was the universal theme of conversation. The vassals and tenants of the baron were overjoyed, as if they had gained a pitched battle; but the sympathies of the people generally were on the side of the prisoner. “Ay, woman," said Peg Robson, to her nextdoor neighbour, Nelly Cowtart, "Dick's gruppit." "Hech me!" retorted Nelly, "I'm wae for him; wi' a' his fauts, he was aye guid to the puir." "Troth, I can say the same thing," interjected Shuzy Smith, the cobbler's sister; "for whiles whan he was doun buying corn frae Archy Rodan for his gem cocks, I've seen him gie me the best pairt o' a bushel for groats to the kail pat." "An' ye mind," said Matty Walker, whose tongue went like the clapper of a mill, "we wad hae been a' killed but for him, whan the auld kirk o' Kilbane fell ae Sunday. There was a great crack i' the gavle wa', just aboon the door, ye mind; an' that day, ye mind, the fowk were a' fley'd to gang in, for fear o' some accident; an' just afore the kirk scaled, ye mind, down cam the bell and the cross, wi' an awsome crash, an' a lump o' lime fell through the riggin on the floor. Gude safe us! ye mind, what a scramle there was, wha to get oot first. It was naething but helty-skelty; an' I daursay they wad hae tramped ane anither to death, had Dick no banged up, an' settin' his shouther under the lintel, proppit up the hale crazy concern till the fouk escapit, every man an' mither's son o' them. Weel a wat, we hae a' great reason to hae a sympathy o' fallow feelin' for him. Whare, I may say 't," continued Matty in a halfwhisper, "he'll get nae mercy frae the baron." "Na, truly," quoth Jenny Tamson, "he's i' the hawk's hans; an' if he war only himsel', I wadna murn sae sair aboot it; but I'm wae for that lassie, Marion Corric; puir creature, it'll brek her heart, an' that'll brek her auld grandfaither's too. She was owre head an' ears in love wi' him; but, in troth, there wasna a kimmer, gentle or semple, atween the Bar Hill and the braes o' Dunscore, that could ca' her heart her ain for him, an' wad hae followed him wi' a rape o' saun." Whilst this sort of gossip occupied the minds and mouths of the village dames, preparations for the trial were going on with all due despatch. The reader who has studied the history of his country under the Jameses, must be aware that, from the earliest ages, there never had been in Scotland any stated times or fixed courts for trying civil lawsuits, till the period of which we write, when John duke of Albany, regent of the kingdom, obtained from the pope the right of levying from the clergy an annual sum, by way of incometax, sufficient to pay the salaries of a few judges. The tax was strongly opposed by the dignitaries of NO. LXXXVI.-VOL, VIII, the Scottish Church: but the controversy was at last decided in favour of the regent; and, on the 24th of April, 1532, the College of Justice was established at Edinburgh. The first institution of this court, indeed, properly belonged to James I., who erected it in 1425, when it consisted of the chancellor, and other persons nominated from the Three Estates of Parliament by the king; and was termed Session, because it was to sit thrice in the year, at such places as his majesty should appoint. After several fluctuations in its constitution, it was new-modelled by James V., according to the form of the Parliament of Paris, dignified with the name of the College of Justice, and its members styled senators. At first, much utility was expected from the equal distribution of justice by those regular judges: but the events which followed did not fulfil the hopes of the country. There were almost no laws, except acts of parliament; and these, in general, were not fixed but temporary. Much was thus left to the discretion and the arbitrary will of the judges; and in criminal cases, the execution of the law, as has been already stated, and the power of life and death, were intrusted to the wardens of the marches, or to the nobles and barons who resided in the district. Never had the administration of justice been intrusted to more unworthy hands than those of Sir Gilbert Maxwell of Duncow. Nature had cast his outer man in the mould of the third Richard; his bodily appearance was a caricature of humanity: his face, twisted and hideous, was certainly not "made to court an amorous looking-glass;" his voice, a childish treble, was better fitted for "the weak piping times of peace" than the stern alarums of battles and forays. Had he been inclined to "descant on his own deformity," he might have soliloquized with the crooked monarch— I that am curtailed of man's fair proportion; Unhappily, these outward defects were not compensated by any good gifts or bounties of nature within. His disposition was cruel, his tyranny capricious; the scowl of envy perpetually darkened his brow; and all his thoughts and actions seemed to centre in the gratification of his own brutish and vindictive passions. The possession of so formidable and so hated an enemy as Richard the Reiver, could not fail to impart, to a soul like his, a degree of joy and exultation such as he never perhaps before experienced. His withered and wrinkled visage was lighted up with a gleam of savage delight, as he gave orders for the jury to be summoned, and the gallows to be G erected on the Cheaplaw Hill, where the court was to be held next day. To those unacquainted with the mode of jury trial, and the judicial forms that prevailed in the earlier ages of Scottish history, and which were borrowed from the Danish and Norwegian invaders, long settled in various parts of our island, it may be proper to explain, that courts of justice were not held within the walls or under the roofs of elegant buildings, as at present. They assembled in the open air, on the tops of hills; and where these were awanting, on the summits of artificial mounds or moats, constructed for the purpose. These were sometimes circular, but generally of an oblong shape, steep in the ascent, and level at the top, so as to accommodate the jury, the criminal, the witnesses, and a reasonable number of spectators. At one end of the smooth green plain on the summit, was usually a little detached knoll, or hillock, on which the gibbet was fixed; for in those days the interval between the trial and the execution was but a short step, and often not more than a single hour. With these relics of legal antiquity, Dumfries shire abounds. They are scattered over Annandale, Nithsdale, and the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, in considerable numbers, and some of them in a state of high preservation. Every petty barony had, at least, one; and in large domains, such as those of Charteris of Amisfield, or of the Jardines, Johnstons, and Maxwells, there were several. Some of these were unquestionably old Roman camps, such as Burnswark, Torthorwald Hill, the Barhall in Tinwald, &c.; but, in general, small natural or artificial elevations were employed; specimens of which may yet be seen on the Dryfe near Lockerbie; at Dumfries; Applegarth Manse, Troqueer; Dalswinton, the site of the present hospitable mansion; on the Orr water; and in the parish of Glencairn, where these green hillocks still retain the name of moats; a word which, though erroneously applied to ditches round castles or forts, simply means a meeting or assembly; as, for instance, the Wittenagemote, the parliament of the Saxons, or the meeting of the wise men; and the Wardmotes of London, which signifies the meeting of the wards. the Highland clans, when the fiery cross was despatched through their hills and glens. The symbol used was a short rude piece of wood, shaped something like an arrow or halbert, the type of which is still preserved in the official staves or batons of our constables and policemen. This token of authority was passed from house to house, from man to man, over marsh and moor, to intimate that a legal assembly was to be held. It was accompanied by no letter or writing, for that would have been useless when people could not read; and, indeed, in general such accompaniment must have been wholly superfluous from the rapidity with which it was forwarded; for to have detained it for a minute, even to examine the writing, would have been a breach of law, and punishable by a considerable fine. The ancient custom prescribing the route, and the mode of carrying the summons, ordained as follows:-"If the magistrate issues circulars, according to the king's letter, or message, he shall send one into each quadrant or airt. This circular must always go forward, and not retrograde. A widow is not ordered to carry the circular, nor a cottager living in the woods. If the circular enters a town from the east, it shall go from thence to the west; if it enters by the south, it shall go out by the north. All men shall carry this circularfarmers and countrymen—and all except noblemen. Whosoever miscarries the circular, or drops it, so that the court is not summoned, shall pay a fine of three merks." The messenger was to proclaim the summons orally at the door of the house, for it was held unlawful to take the symbol under a roof; and having done this, he was to send it on by a fast runner to the next stage. The clachan of Duncow, on this occasion, presented an unusual degree of bustle and businesslike excitement. "Fetch me my caker'd heel'd shoon, Tibby, and the gray rig-and-fur gilligaskins." This mandate proceeded from the Baron's bum-bailiff, Hughie Hiddlestone; a slender perpendicular personage, thin as a lath, and endowed with a mighty conceit of his own dignity and importance. "Fetch me, I say, my caker'd shoon, and the leather breeks wi' the knee-buckles." The barony of Duncow was furnished with an The obedient spouse complied, and produced the artificial court-house of this kind, which bears the required articles. "Dinna stan' glowrin' there, name of the Cheaplaw Hill, then situated almost when fouk's in a hurry! Fetch me the broon in the centre of the village, but long ago converted doublet wi' the drugget linin'; fetch me the tafinto the more agreeable uses of a play-ground for fetie waistcoat; fetch me the checket gravat wi' the children frequenting the parish school. The the blue border." Again Tibby hastened to the ascent was a winding footpath on the north side; wardrobe-an old carved oaken chest—and, after the base on the west end was covered with a na- some little rummaging, vest, doublet, and gravat tural shrubbery of broom and furze; on the east were forthcoming. "Fetch me my mittens, and and south, it was closely surrounded by houses and the silver-headed kent; it's stanin' ahint the door, kailyards. The baron's castle stood in the imme-ben the house, and hasna been in my han' sin' diate vicinity; and, on the opposite side, a long narrow street or alley, called Pauly's Close, ran between the bottom of the hill and a ford which communicated, by means of a line of stone steps, with the part of the village lying beyond the burn. On the forenoon of the day when Dick was apprehended, the baron's mandate or circular was issued for convoking the court. The form of summons then practised resembled that for gathering Davie Tinning was hang'd for ca'in the baron thrawn-gabbit Gibby." The lambswool mits and the silver-mounted staff of authority, were instantly brought from their respective places of abode. "Noo, my woman, gin I had my cockit hat I wad be a' ready for the road; for I maun be off wi' the summons. I'm ower lang here. Fetch me my cockit hat." The disappointed functionary was preparing to make a rejoinder, but the thread of Tibby's argument was not to be interrupted with impunity; and, raising her voice an octave higher, while one hand gave a slap on the other that made the bailie's heart nearly jump out of his mouth, she said, with an air obviously intended to show that further remonstrance or contradiction to her will would not be much longer tolerated— "It's for nae use kickin' up a collishangie about it. Ye canna get yer cockit hat: ye needna ax't. I've the clocker sittin' in't, an' I wadna hae the eleckin' lost for you nor the best man that ever steppit in leather shoon." This magnanimous resolve put an end to the dispute, and Hughie had no alternative but to proceed on his errand with a borrowed hat. The summons was despatched with all due expedition, passing rapidly from house to house and hand to hand, round the district, from the Nith across Locharbriggs, up the Glenæ Burn, round by Glenmade, Auchengeith, Auldgirth, and Dalswinton. Meanwhile, operations were going on nearer the scene of action. Peter Plaintree was busy erecting the gibbet, while the vassals and labourers of the baron were cutting and carrying hazel stakes and twigs for the purpose of fencing the court. It was the ancient custom, on the occasion of jury trials, to have one portion of the smooth green platform, on the summit of the hill or moat, enclosed within a paling of wooden stakes, slightly driven into the ground, and surrounded with cords or ropes. This was called fencing the court. Within this ring or circular enclosure, sat the jurors; and, by law, it was required to be wide enough to contain room for thirty-six men, although the jury might consist only of twelve. A sacred character was attached to this circle; and if, by any accidental violence, it should happen to be broken down, it was enough to sist procedure, or sometimes to render the whole operations of the court in the case null and void. On the morning of the trial, and long before the hour of cause, every thing was in readiness for so important an event; the country people were flocking in hundreds into the village, and choking up every lane and close leading to the Cheaplaw Hill, the steep sides of which were covered with eager spectators, each scrambling for a good place, where a view of the prisoner and the proceedings could be obtained. The baron had taken his seat in an elevated chair at the east end of the platform; and at the other stood the gibbet, and the hangman fastening the rope to the cross-beam. The jury were in their places, and the surrounding space was filled with persons cited as witnesses, or with vassals and retainers of the baron. The prisoner had been brought up doubly ironed, and under a strong guard. His countenance evinced no symptoms of fear or perturbation at the scene before him, which he surveyed with a calm indifference approaching to scorn. A whisper went round the crowd-"That man canna be guilty; he doesna look like it. Guilt aye kythes on the face even o' the boldest, when within eye-shot o' the hangman's tether." The jury was now empannelled, or, more properly speaking, enclosed; and the rules of court read as follows:— All "It is forbidden to every man who is not chosen a juror to sit within the sacred cords; and if he sits down there, and does not go out when he is admonished, he shall pay a fine of half a merk of silver. Every man must come fasting into the court, and make his appearance there while the sun is in the east, and remain in the court till noon. No man must bring any drink into court, neither for sale nor in any other way; but if it be brought notwithstanding, then it shall be confiscated, and belong to the lord of the manor. who are chosen jurors shall sit in the court during the whole time aforesaid, unless they have to go out on necessary errands. But whosoever goes out of the court, outside the sacred cords, without any necessity, shall pay a fine of two silver groats. If those who are outside the court make there such noise and disturbance that the jury are prevented from hearing causes, or those from pleading who have obtained leave by the judge and the jury, they shall pay a fine of a silver groat when detected and convicted. "GOD SAVE THE KING!" The oath was then administered to each jury man. "I protest, laying my hand on the Holy Book, that I shall give such a verdict in every cause, as well on the side of prosecutor as defender, as I consider most just in the sight of God, according to law and my conscience; and I shall always do the same whenever I shall be chosen a juror. I shall not make any man guilty who is innocent, nor make any man innocent who is guilty; nor shall I be prevailed on by relationship, affinity, fear, friendship, or favour. So help me God, and the holy things I hold in my hands!" The prisoner was then commanded to stand forth, when the charge was read in his hearing, accusing him of having, on the night of the 18th, or the morning of the 19th, of the week and month aforesaid, committed the wilful, heinous, cruel, diabolical crime of murder on the person of Gilbert Griphard Maxwell, younger, Master of Duncow. "I solemnly declare my innocence before God and this court, and am ready to prove it,” said the prisoner. "Produce your evidence," replied the baron; "where are your witnesses?" "Witnesses I have none; but I am willing to appeal to such proof as the law allows, and such as, by the customs of this realm, have been held to establish the guilt or innocence of an accused party. I claim the right of appeal to single combat. This privilege is never refused in cases of doubt; and cannot with justice be denied to me." The baron had no wish to bring the issue to any such test, nor to let justice take its fair course if it could be prevented. "That privilege," said he, "I interdict. True, the laws of the realm permit it; but the law of the duel requires that there shall be some degree of equality in the strength and advantages as well as in the rank of the combatants. Were it not so, life and innocence would be at the mercy of every desperado, every daring villain who might choose to fancy that the sword was a better instrument to decide contested causes than a judge and a jury." “Well,” rejoined the prisoner, " since this right is denied me there is another way I offer to clear myself, which is as legal and satisfactory as the appeal to arms, and not liable to objections arising from inequality of personal strength or worldly circumstances. I offer to clear myself by twelve men's oaths, who shall declare their sworn persuasion of my innocence; for the law says, "If there be witnesses let the accused defend himself by a jury; if there be none, then by the oaths of conjurators.' When the truth cannot be discovered I have a right at least to disprove the accusation." "Your right is good," said the baron; "but you forget that it rests with the prosecutor whether he will be satisfied with twelve men's oaths. I tell | thee, knave, I will not be satisfied. Dost thou think to frustrate the ends of justice by thy shifts and pretences? Wilt thou dare to beard me in my own court, and to bandy thy rights and privileges when thou hast not a witness nor a word of evidence to show why thy bones should not bleach on the gibbet? Blood for blood is the law of God as well as of man. Thou seest the noose waving for thy throat. Shrive thyself to the priest, and let thy prayers be short. Away with him!" "Stay," cried the prisoner; "not so fast. The jury have not given their verdict: they are the judges, not you. I have no witnesses to produce; where are yours? One man declared he had seen the murder. Where is he? Bring him forth." "Silence, wretch! silence. Witnesses, forsooth! Evidence! Is it not enough that thou hast always had a malignant hatred to my house; that thou hast stolen my cattle; set my authority at defiance; insulted my son, pretending that he had crossed thee in some amour with a low-born wench? Is it not known that, on the very night of the murder, thou wast seen near the spot where the foul deed was committed; that thou hadst an assignation with thy paramour, and intended to carry her off from her father's house? Is it not an aggravation of thy crime that my son, while endeavouring to save a father from the bereavement of his only child, should have fallen by the hand of that unfeeling villain who had first ruined the virtue of that child, and then sought to hide his infamy by seizing her person and consigning it to a dungeon, perhaps to the grave? Proofs! Witnesses! Why, thy guilt is palpable as noonday. It smells so rank that every person may trace it out. What say ye, jurors, guilty or not guilty?" Richard's teeth were grinding with indignation to hear an innocent maiden thus traduced, and himself branded as her betrayer, perhaps her murderer. A burst of scornful denial was struggling to get vent from his heaving and convulsed throat; but it was drowned by the verdict of the jury"Guilty, guilty, guilty;" and the loud murmurs of disapprobation from the spectators, who were shocked at this scandalous prostitution of justice to the will of a tyrant. "Off with the miscreant, off with him to the gallows!" cried the baron, beginning to apprehend, from the state of feeling that prevailed, that a rescue might be attempted. The mandate was obeyed; and the guards were in the act of dragging him to the other end of the platform, where the priest and the hangman stood prepared to discharge their respective offices, when, at the moment, a sudden commotion arose among the crowd, near the hazel stakes which formed the jury-box. All was tumult and disorder; loud huzzas, shouts, and clapping of hands followed. "What's the matter? what's the matter?" every body inquired ; but none could tell except those in the neighbourhood of the enclosure. The cause, however, soon spread, and seemed to occasion universal rejoicing. As the reader is not likely to conjecture what it was, we may inform him, that among the spectators of that day's proceedings, and not the least interested in the result, was Marion Corrie. She had contrived to work her way through the dense mass that covered the sides of the hill, and took her place within a few yards of the hazel paling, watching every word and look of the judge and jury, and observing every thing without being herself observed; for all eyes were engrossed with one object, and that was the prisoner, whose handsome form and bold demeanour had won all hearts in his favour. With intense interest, but without allowing a sob or tear to escape her, she had listened to every word. When the fatal sentence was pronounced, she uttered a wild frantic scream, and, drawing a whinger from her bosom, she rushed forward and cut asunder the ropes that surrounded the enclosure. The breaking down of this sacred fence, as has been mentioned, was enough to stop the proceedings of the court, and destroy their validity in law. It was for this, among other reasons, and to prevent accidents from violence, that no man was allowed to come armed to the court; and it was forbidden that any number of armed men should be allowed to remain within a certain distance (a practice continued to the present day at parliamentary elections,) lest it might be said that freedom of discussion and the award of the jury had been overawed by fear or force. The baron, seeing his bloody purpose about to be thwarted, and the victim likely to be torn from his clutches, when already within his grasp, became frantic with rage. Springing from his chair, he exclaimed, "Bring me a sword! drive a poniard "De to his heart! the ruffian must not escape. Exe- the tumult had now assumed the appearance of a cutioner, do your duty; disobey me at your peril!" | regular pell-mell battle. "Desist, I command Four of the sentinels in waiting here seized the you!" The order was not attended to-the speaker's prisoner by the shoulders, and hurried him towards outward habit not being particularly fitted to enthe gibbet. force submission, or even inspire respect. sist, I command you, on pain of high treason!" was again repeated, in a more authoritative tone; and in a moment, as the old ballad says, He took the bugle frae his side, During this scene of confusion, Marion had forced her way to the opposite end of the platform, and applying a little ivory cat-call to her lips, she blew a shrill note, resembling the huntsman's whistle. The signal was understood, and, at the summons, a band of sturdy yeomen, in full armour, with drawn rapiers in their hands, rushed up the hill. These were a party of Richard's friends, neighbours and tenants of his father from Bruntick and Auchincairn. It had been concerted with Marion that they were to repair to the Cheaplaw Hill on the preceding night, conceal themselves among the long broom and furze at the base, and wait her signal, in case an opportunity for rescue might present itself. This trusty band was divided into two detachments, headed by Jock Crichton of the Townfoot, and Adam Robson of Castlehill, two of the stoutest and boldest adventurers that ever rode a foray or lifted a prey. One division took immediate possession of the knoll and the gibbet, with its attendant functionaries, the priest and the hangman. The other pushed through the crowd to seize the baron and the jury; an exploit which was performed without much difficulty, as every man was unarmed, and not a weapon could be drawn to offer resistance. The tables were now completely changed. The judge was to become the culprit at his own bar, and the packed jury in danger of having their sentence carried into execution upon themselves. In short, from the exasperation, and excitement, and universal hubbub that prevailed, the proceedings were likely to be brought to a very summary "Away with the tyrant; tuck him up. Let Haman hang on his own gallows!" were among the few intelligible expressions that could be heard in the confused Babel of hisses, yells, groans, and imprecations of vengeance. conclusion. At this stage of the turmoil, when the justicecourt had every appearance of ending in a general onslaught, a stranger stepped forward into the vacant space which the crowd had left in pressing towards the gibbet, expecting to see the baron hoisted instead of the prisoner. Though his attire was mean, his person was tall and handsome, his speech commanding. "Wha's that lang weelfaur'd man wi' the yellow beard, an' the buglehorn at his side?" said Lilly Walker to Babie Fead. "He's no that weel dress'd, but he speaks like ane hae'n authority. Surely he canna be frae aboot this pairt. I dinna think I ever saw him He blew baith loud and shrill, And he was the brawest gentleman The amazement of the crowd at this sudden transformation was indescribable; nor was their astonishment lessened when they discovered that the bold gaberlunyie was no other than King James himself. The first that identified the royal person was the prisoner, who had been in Liddesdale when James undertook his expedition for checking depredations in that quarter, and hanged the redoubted freebooter, Johnnie Armstrong. "The king!-the king!" was speedily whispered from ear to ear. "Lord preserve me !" exclaimed Meg M'Whutterick, the souter's pretty wife; "he sleepit i' our house yestreen, and pledged me in a caup o' yill." And wiping her mouth, as if she had got something else into the bargain-" Had I jaloozed wha gruppit me roun'-but, heth na; hoo could I-I wad hae gart our John pitishion him to be made buitmaker to the airmy. He's a fine man, an' neither prood nor saucy; for he took nocht but parritch to his supper. He said he was the Gudeman o' Bellygeith; and sleepit on the langsettle, wi' a pock o' woo aneth his head." The reader will hardly require to be informed that it was a practice with James V. to traverse the country in disguise-sometimes for the purpose of seeing that justice was regularly adminis tered, and frequently on the less patriotic errand of gallantry and adventure. On these occasions he engaged in many romantic frolics, and made strange discoveries, that amused both himself and his subjects. His anxious attention to the interests of the lower classes, and to protect them from oppression, procured him the title of " King of the Commons ;" and it was upon some of his amorous expeditions, when travelling in disguise as a beggar, that the two comic songs, "The Gaberlunyie Man," and "We'll gae nae mair a-roving," are said to have been founded. These freaks occasionally brought his majesty's life into considerable jeopardy; as, for example, in his encounter with the band of gallants at Cramond Brig, near Edinburgh, "Heth," replied Babie, "I kenna for that, but where he is said to have rescued from abduction a he has a bonnie red cheek, and bonnie glancin' pretty girl of the lower rank, to whom tradition blue een i' his head; maybe he'll be some wander- has given the name of Marion Howison. The in' knight in disguise; there's a hantle o' thae soubriquet, or designation, which he usually asfouk gaun through the kintra enow, under pre-sumed in those clandestine journeys, was the tence o' pittin' down thieves and reivers; but, od', they're often the greatest rogues themsels." afore." This dialogue was interrupted by the loud voice of the stranger, addressed to the combatants; for NO. LXXXVI.-YOL, VIII. "Gudeman of Ballengeich," or the Windy Pass; which is the name of a narrow defile down the rocky hill behind Stirling castle. The cause of his visit to Dumfriesshire, on the H |