man, thought it needless to take any very strong measure to hinder him; and Billy was at Keltonhill accordingly.

Now Billy's destinies placed him in a high sphere; it was about this period, that, either electively, or by usurpation, he was placed at the head of that mighty people in the south west, whom he governed with equal prudence and talent for the long space of eighty or ninety years. Some of his admirers assert, that he was of royal ancestry, and that he succeeded by the laws of hereditary succession; but no regular annals of Billy's house were kept, and oral tradition and testimony weigh heavy against this assertion. From any research I have been able to make, I am strongly disposed to think, that, in this crisis of his life, Billy Marshal had been no better than Julius Cæsar, Richard III., Oliver Cromwell, Hyder Ally, or Napoleon Buonaparte: I do not mean to say, that he waded through as much blood as some of those, to seat himself on, a throne, or to grasp at the diadem and sceptre; but it was shrewdly suspected, that Billy Marshal had stained his character and his hands with human blood. His predecessor died very suddenly, it never was supposed by his own hand, and he was buried as privately about the foot of Cairnsmuir, Craig Nelder, or the Corse of Slakes, without the ceremony, or, perhaps more properly speaking, the benefit of a precognition being taken, or an inquest held by a coroner's jury. During this long reign, he and his followers were not outdone in their exploits, by any of the colonies of Kirk-Yetholm, Horncliff, Spital, or Lochmaben. The following anecdote will convey a pretty correct notion, of what kind of personage Billy was, in the evening of his life; as for his early days, I really know nothing more of them than what I have already. told.

had re

The writer of this, in the month of May 1789, turned to Galloway after a long absence; he soon learned that Billy Marshal, of whom he had heard so many tales in his childhood was still in existence. Upon one occasion he went to Newton-Stewart, with the late Mr. M'Culloch of Barholm and the late Mr. Hannay of Bargaly, to dine with Mr. Samuel M'Caul. Billy Marshal then lived at the hamlet or clachan of Polnure, a spot beautifully situated on the burn or stream of that name: we called on our old hero,he was at home, he never denied himself,-and soon ap

peared; he walked slowly, but firmly towards the carriage, and asked Mr. Hannay, who was a warm friend of his, how he was?—Mr. Hannay asked if he knew who was in the carriage? he answered, " that his eyes had failed him a gude dale," but added, that he saw his friend Barholm, and that he could see a youth sitting betwixt them, whom he did not knów. I was introduced, and had a gracious shake of his hand. He told me I was setting out in life, and admonished me to "tak care o`my han', and do naething to dishonor the gude stock o' folk that I was come o';" he added, that I was the fourth generation of us he had been acquaint wi’, Each of us paid a small pecuniary tribute of respect,-I attempted to add to mine, but Barholm told me, he had fully as much as would be put a good use. We were returning the same way, betwixt ten and eleven at night, after spending a pleasant day, and taking a cheerful glass with our friend Mr. M'Caul; we were descending the beautifully wooded hills, above the picturesque glen of Polnure,—my two companions were napping, the moon shone clear,and all nature was quiet, excepting Polnure burn, and the dwelling of Billy Marshal,-the postilion stopt (in these parts the well-known, and well-liked Johnny Whurk,) and turning round with a voice which indicated terror, he said, "Gude guide us, there's folk singing psalms in the wud!” My companions awoke and listened, Barholm said, " psalms, sure enough;" but Bargaly said, "the deil a-bit o'them are psalms." We went on, and stopt again at the door of the old king: we then heard Billy go through a great many stanzas of a song, in such a way that convinced us that his memory and voice, had, at any rate, not failed him; he was joined by a numerous and powerful chorus. It is quite needless to be so minute as to give any account of the song which Billy sung; it will be enough to say, that my friend Barholm was completely wrong, in supposing it to be a psalm; it resembled in no particular, psalm, paraphrase, or hymn. We called him out again, he appeared much brisker than he was in the morning: we advised him to go to bed; but he replied, that "he didna think he wad be muckle in his bed that night,—they had to tak the country in the morning (meaning, that they were to begin a ramble over the country,) and that they were just takin a wee drap drink to the health of our honours, wi' the loc siller

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we had gi'en them." I shook hands with him for the last time, he then called himself above one hundred and twenty years of age: he died about 1790. His great age never was disputed to the extent of more than three or four years. The oldest people in the country allowed the account to be correct. The great-grandmother of the writer of this arti cle died at the advanced age of one hundred and four; her age was correctly known. She said, that Wull Marshal was a man when she was a bitt callant, (provincially, in Galloway, a very young girl.) She had no doubt as to his being fifteen or sixteen years older than herself, and he survived her several years. His long reign, if not glorious, was in the main fortunate for himself and his people. Only one great calamity befel him and them, during that long space of time in which he held the reins of government. It may have been already suspected, that with Billy Marshal ambition was a ruling passion; and this bane of human fortune had stimulated in him a desire to extend his dominions, from the Brigg end of Dumfries to the Newton of Ayr, at a time when he well knew the Braes of Glen-Nap, and the Water of Doon, to be his western precinct. He reached the Newton of Ayr, which I believe is in Kyle; but there he was opposed, and compelled to recross the river, by a powerful body of tinkers from Argyle or Dumbarton. He said, in his bulletins, that they were supported by strong bodies of Irish sailors, and Kyle colliers. Billy had no artillery, but his cavalry and infantry suffered severely. He was obliged to leave a great part of his baggage, provisions, and camp equipage, behind him; consisting of kettles, pots, pans, blankets, crockery, horns, pigs, poultry, &c. A large proportion of shelties, asses, and mules, were driven into the water and drowned, which occasioned a heavy loss, in creels, panniers, hampers, tinkers' tools, and cooking utensils; and although he was as well appointed, as to a medical staff, as such expeditions usually were, in addition to those who were missing, many died of their wounds. However, on reaching Maybole with his broken and dispirited troops, he was joined by a faithful ally from the county of Down; who, unlike other allies on such occasions, did not forsake him in his adversity. This junction enabled our hero to rally, and pursue in his turn: a pitched battle was again fought, somewhere about the Brigg of Doon or Alloway VOL. I.] No. III.]

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Kirk; when both sides, as is usual, claimed a victory; but however this may have been, it is believed that this disaster, which happened A.D. 1712, had slaked the thirst of Billy's ambition: He was many years in recovering from the effects of this great political error; indeed, it had nearly proved as fatal to the fortunes of Billy Marshal, as the ever memorable Russian campaign did to Napoleon Bonaparte, about the same year in the succeeding century.

It is usual for writers, to give the character along with the death of their prince or hero: I would like to be excused from the performance of any such task, as drawing the character of Billy Marshal; but it may be done in a few words, by saying that he had from nature a strong mind, with a vigorous and active person; and that, either naturally or by acquirement, he possessed every mental and personal quality, which was requisite for one who was placed in his high station, and who held sovereign power over his fellow creatures for so great a length of time: I would be glad if I could, with impartiality, close my account here; but it becomes my duty to add, that, (from expediency, it is believed, not from choice,) with the exception of intemperate drinking, treachery, and ingratitude, he practised every crime which is incident to human nature,-those of the deepest dye, I am afraid, cannot with truth be included in the exception: In short, his people met with an irreparable loss in the death of their king and leader; but it never was alleged, that the moral world sustained any loss by the death of the man.

RACHEL BAILLEY.

A woman of the name of Rachel Bailley, a few years ago, in Selkirkshire, afforded a remarkable evidence of the force of her gypsey habits and propensities. This woman, having been guilty of repeated acts of theft, was condemned by Mr. W. Scott, sheriff of that county, to imprisonment in the bridewell there, on hard labour, for six months. She became so excessively wearied of the confinement, to which she had not been accustomed, and so impatient of the labour of spinning, although she span well, that she attempted suicide, by opening her veins with the point of a pair of scissors. In compassion for her state of mind, she was set at liberty by the magistrate; but she had not travelled farther

than Yair Bridge-end, being about four miles from Selkirk, when she thought proper to steal a watch from a cottage, and being taken with it in her possession, was restored to her place of confinement just about four hours after she had been dismissed from it. She was afterwards banished the country.

JEAN GORDON.

Old Jean Gordon of Yetholm, who had great sway among her tribe, was quite a Meg Merrilies, and possessed the savage virtue of fidelity in the same perfection. Having been often hospitably received at the farm-house of Lochside, near Yetholm, she had carefully abstained from committing any depredations on the farmers' property. But her sons, (nine in number,) had not, it seems, the same delicacy, and stole a brood-sow from their kind entertainer. Jean was so much mortified at this ungrateful conduct, and so much ashamed at it, that she absented herself from Lochside for several years. At length, in consequence of some temporary pecuniary necessity, the Goodman of Lochside was obliged to go to Newcastle to get some money to pay his rent. Returning through the mountains of Cheviot, he was benighted, and lost his way. A light, glimmering through the window of a large waste barn, which had survived the farm-house to which it had once belonged, guided him to a place of shelter; and when he knocked at the door, it was opened by Jean Gordon. Her very remarkable figure, for she was nearly six feet high, and her equally remarkable features and dress, rendered it impossible to mistake her for a moment; and to meet with such a character in so solitary a place, and probably at no great distance from her clan, was a terrible surprise to the poor man, whose rent, (to lose which would have been ruin to him,) was about his person. Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition Eh, sir! the winsome gudeman of Lochside! Light down, light down; for ye manna gang farther the night, and a friend's house sae near.' The farmer was obliged to dismount, and accept of the gypsey's offer of supper and a bed. There was plenty of meat in the barn, however it might be come by, and preparations were going on for a plentiful supper, which the farmer, to the great increase of his