The lady, mentioned in the ballad, was sister to the Marquis of Hamilton, and, according to Johnstone the historian, had little reason to regret being separated from her husband, whose harsh treatment finally occasioned her death.  But Johnstone appears not to be altogether untinctured with the prejudices of his clan, and is probably, in this instance, guilty of exaggeration; as the active share, taken by the Marquis of Hamilton in favour of Maxwell, is a circumstance inconsistent with such a report.

Thus was finally ended, by a salutary example of severity, the “foul debate” betwixt the Maxwells and Johnstones, in the course of which each family lost two chieftains; one dying of a broken heart, one in the field of battle, one by assassination, and one by the sword of the executioner.

It seems reasonable to believe, that the following ballad must have been written before the death of Lord Maxwell, in 1613; otherwise there would have been some allusion to that event.  It must therefore have been composed betwixt 1608 and that period.

LORD MAXWELL’S GOODNIGHT.

* * * * *

  Adieu, madame, my mother dear,
  But and my sisters three! 
  Adieu, fair Robert of Orchardstane! 
  My heart is wae for thee. 
  Adieu, the lily and the rose,
  The primrose fair to see: 
  Adieu, my ladie, and only joy! 
  For I may not stay with thee.

  “Though I hae slain the Lord Johnstone,
  What care I for their feid? 
  My noble mind their wrath disdains: 
  He was my father’s deid. 
  Both night and day I laboured oft
  Of him avenged to be;
  But now I’ve got what lang I sought,
  And I may not stay with thee.

  “Adieu!  Drumlanrig, false wert aye,
  And Closeburn in a Land! 
  The laird of Lag, frae my father that fled,
  When the Johnston struck aff his hand. 
  They were three brethren in a band—­
  Joy may they never see! 
  Their treacherous art, and cowardly heart,
  Has twin’d my love and me,

  Adieu!  Dumfries, my proper place,
  But and Carlaverock fair! 
  Adieu! my castle of the Thrieve,
  Wi’ a my buildings there: 
  Adieu!  Lochmaben’s gates sae fair,
  The Langholm-holm where birks there be;
  Adieu! my ladye, and only joy,
  For, trust me, I may not stay wi’ thee,

  “Adieu! fair Eskdale up and down,
  Where my puir friends do dwell;
  The bangisters[197] will ding them down,
  And will them sair compell. 
  But I’ll avenge their feid mysell,
  When I come o’er the sea;
  Adieu! my ladye, and only joy,
  For I may not stay wi’ thee.”

  “Lord of the land!”—­that ladye said,
  “O wad ye go wi’ me,
  Unto my brother’s stately tower,
  Where safest ye may be! 
  There Hamiltons and Douglas baith,
  Shall rise to succour thee.” 
  “Thanks for thy kindness, fair my dame,
  But I may not stay wi’ thee.”