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THIS Ballad is founded on a legend appertaining to Thirlwall, whose proprietors in remote times were called Barons, and held under the Kings of Scotland as Lords of Tindale. The township and manor derives its name from the Roman thralling or barrier wall running through it. To "thirll," in the old Northumbrian dialect, means to bind or enthral.

Thirlwall Castle stands on a rocky precipice above the river Tiffalt; there is no mention of it before 1369, in which year John de Thirlwall is called lord of it, and the manor of Thirlwall.

*The following is the fragment given by Mr. Herd, "to the tune of Leaderhaughs and Yarrow:"

"I dream'd a dreary dream last night;
God keep us a' frae sorrow;

I dream'd I pu'd the birk sae green,
Wi' my true luve on Yarrow."

"I'll read your dream, my sister dear,
I'll tell you a' your sorrow;
You pu'd the birk wi' your true luve;
He's kill'd, he's kill'd, on Yarrow."
"O gentle wind, that bloweth south,
To where my luve repaireth,
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
And tell me how he fareth.
"But o'er yon glen run armèd men,

Have wrought me dule and sorrow
They've slain, they've slain, ta comeliest swain,
He bleeding lies on Yarrow"

The legend on which part of the Ballad is founded is as follows. One of the Barons of Thirlwall returned from the foreign wars, laden with abundance of treasure, amongst which was a table of solid gold; his wealth was much spoken of, and often excited the cupidity of the numerous band of freebooters with which the Border abounded; but the well known bravery of the Baron and the strength of his followers prevented them from making an open attack. The gold table, it was affirmed, was guarded day and night by a hideous dwarf; some said it was the foul fiend himself. In a predatory excursion, the Baron was pursued home by the incensed Warden of the March, who stormed his castle, and slew the Baron and most part of his retainers. The castle was ransacked for the treasure; but the gold table, dwarf, and money bags had disappeared. Dungeons and vaults were searched, but nothing could be found; and after setting fire to the castle, the victors retired. The dwarf (according to tradition) during the heat of the engagement, removed the treasure, and throwing it into a deep well jumped in after it, when by his infernal art he closed the well over himself and his charge: and it is said that he still remains under the influence of a spell, only to be broken by the virtuous son of a widow. About fifty years

And swatchers mony ane,
And the castle walls are high to win,
Howe'er they fidge and fain.

The boldest ane o' a' his men

Was Jockey of the Sheugh;
The Baron loved him like a brither,
And that was fair enoo.

ago, a man who was ploughing in an adjoin- | But the Baron hath retainers bold,
ing field imagined that a certain part of the
ground sounded hollow when the plough
passed over it. This having excited his
curiosity, he struck the earth violently, when
he distinctly heard a stone drop, and strike
the side wall repeatedly, and end in a hollow
murmur at the bottom of some deep well or
pit. Impressed with the belief that this was
the dwarf's well, and that he was on the point
of possessing unbounded wealth, he resolved,
like Goldsmith's Miller, to proceed cautiously,
and returning at the dead of night, to explore
the subterraneous cavity. But, alas, for the
instability of earthly hopes; on his return he
was unable to discover the place: day after
day he recrossed and searched the field, and
night after night he struck the ground in
vain; the hollow sound was heard no more,
and the dwarf's well remains undiscovered to
this very day.

Naworth Castle, the abode of that famous warrior Belted Will, stood near Brampton in Cumberland. It was burnt down in 1844. Lord Morpeth is erecting a stately edifice on its ashes. For a description of this Border soldier and his dwelling, see Scott's notes to his Lay of the Last Minstrel. In the Memoirs of Sir Robert Carey, then deputy for his father, Lord Hunsden, Warden of the Eastern Marches (and afterwards Earl of Monmouth), a singular picture will be found of the rude and lawless state of society, at the period when the scene of the Ballad is laid.

They went along a close passage,
Built in the Castle wall.

Discoveries made during the removal of the ruins, corroborate this and other allusions made in the Ballad.

THE Baron of Thirlwall came from the wars,
Laden with treasure bold;

Among the which a fayre tabel,

All of the beaten gold.

Jock could warsle, run or lap
Wi' ever a living man;
Never a wight in Cumbernauld
Could beat him at the span.

But Thirlwall's Baron heeded not
The word o' Belted Will,
Who dwells within the dark Naworth,
The Border March to still.

He can rule all the Border roun',

Wi' a peeled willey wan;
But Thirlwall's Baron gecks at him,
And a' the laws o' the lan'.

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So fast come tidings of ravin wrong
To Belted Willy's ear;
Quo' he, "By my belt I'll trap this man, 35
If I catch him in effeir.

"But he is like a wily tod,

That taketh to his hole,
An I can catch him on the turn,
Ise smoke him frae his bole.

"He reaves and harries ilka ane,
Tho' he has goups o' gold;

Ise lay a trap for him bedeen,
By which he shall be sold."

Thirlwall's Baron heard his speech,
Wi' scorn amaist he burst;
"His anger it is like a haggis,
That's hettest at the first."

40

45

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