O bonnie Marget Drummond,
She was the young King's wife,
And bonnie Marget Drummond
James lo'ed her as his life.
Some said she was his leman licht,
But she was gude and pure,
And ne'er a garden in the land
Could show sae fair a flouir.
"Twas when King James was but a lad,
And she was sweet sixteen,
Love's tale he whispered in her ear,
And made the lass his Queen.
His Queen he made her privatelie,
For he was plicht to wed
At the bidding of his haughty lords
A royal Southron maid;
But the face of Marget Drummond cam'
Atween him and his oath,
And her winsome ways made him forget
Whar he had plicht his troth.
"Ance has a Drummond been our Queen,"
The haughty nobles said,
"But wi' this lass sae sib to him,
The King he daurna wed."
But aye the King by Marget kept,
Though they held her up to scorn,
And he ca'd her openly his wife
When a bonnie babe was born.
The nobles interviewed their King --
"Ca' not the ladye, wife,
For a sough of this in English ears
Will lead to mickle strife.
"This ladye's near to you in blood,
And a marriage canna be,
Unless the Pope sends ower frae Rome
His sealed authoritie.
"King Henry's dauchter for your wife
You maun to Scotland bring,
For the like of Marget Drummond
Is no for Scotland's King."
Than out spake James afore them a',
And an angry man was he --
"I carena for King Henry's wrath,
"Twas he socht after me;
"I carena for the English King,
Nor for the Scottish lords;
Ca' back your treaties licht and vain,
Ca' back your senseless words.
"The Ladye Marget is your Queen,
Her wedded spouse am I,
When you say she isna worthy me,
I tell you, sirs, you lie.
"His Holiness is weel content,
For even now frae Rome
His Dispensation duly sealed
Is weel naur landed home.
"Then from my presence hence, O Lords,
James for himself can choose;
His course is ta'en, nor will he deign
To parley or excuse."
Out from the presence went the Lords,
And dolefu' men were they,
For James's words filled ilka heart
With anger and dismay.
"O shall we brook a second queen
From Drummond's haughty line?
Against this insult to our class
We nobles maun combine.
"But if the King he winna yield
Then sorry is our plicht,
And sair shall English Henry chafe
Aneth the grievous slicht.
"O that this Drummond lass were gane
Frae out our troubled land!
O that the Pope's authoritie
Wad never come to hand."
Then our and spake a wily Lord --
"The King he shall be free,'
Speer not, my Lords, the ways and means,
But leave the deed to me.
"If but the deed ye leave to me,
And solemn silence swear
Anent the outcome of my plot,
I'll part this youthful pair.
"The Dispensation from the Pope
Shall never come to hand,
And Marget Drummond, crown on head,
Shall ne'er in honour stand."
They lookit at this wily lord,
They lookit in his face,
To see if ruth or gentleness
Had there a resting place.
But neither ruth nor gentleness,
Nor pity could they see;
Determination, fierce and fell,
Shone in his keen blue e'e.
A lawless man he stood confessed;
They marked, and nothing loath,
To haud their tongues whate'er befel
They swore a solemn oath.
Wi' shame-faced look they ane and a'
Their sundry roads have ta'en,
And on to Drummond Castel hie
That wily lord has gane.
* * * * * * * * * * *
In Drummond Castel Marget sate,
Her sisters by her side;
And in her lap was her young bairn,
The gentle mother's pride.
The meat was on the table set,
The silver and the gold;
And massive cups agleaming bricht,
The ruby wine to hold.
"Now shall we drink, O sisters mine,
To the coming of the King;
The morrow's dawn shall to these arms
My loving husband bring.
"To-morrow thou, by bonnie bairn,
Shalt see thy royal sire;
A thing for him to wonder at,
To love and to admire.
"Sybil and Phemie, sisters mine,
Ye shall to Court wi' me,
And 'mong the proudest in the land
Your proper place shall be."
She spake, the love licht in her e'e,
The smile upon her lip;
And to the coming of the King
The sister three did sip.
But ah! Death in the goblet lurked,
And struck a mortal blow;
Swift, sudden as the lightning flash,
And laid the sisters low.
* * * * * * * * * *
That self-same day through fair Strathearn
Impatient rode the King,
For lofty Drummond Castel bound
He and his following.
"Methinks In see my ladye's face,
And the love-licht in her e'e,
When to the outer Castel door
She speeds to welcome me.
"Before my set time am In come,
For love it winna bide;
And true content is only mine
When In am by her side.
"Faster and faster on, my lads,
A race, a race wi' me;
Push even on o'er bush and scaur
To Drummond Castel hie."
Now they have left the beaten track;
In emulative glee
They spur their steeds o'er bush and seaur
Till they reach the Castel hie.
"O, Porter, whar is now my Lord,
That thou standest there thy lane?"
"My Lord he and his retinue
Are to the hunting gane?"
"What be the dauchters of my Lord,
That they come not to the yett?"
"My ladies in the dining hall
Are at the table set."
James from his courser leaped adown
With a jest and with a smile;
But a pang shot rapid through his heart,
And a nameless fear the while.
He battled with this nameless fear
As the gates he hurried through,
And to the lofty dining hall
He near and nearer drew.
The hall he entered lover like,
With quick impetuous bound;
"Now am In come," the Stuart cried, --
And then he glanced around.
He glanced around, then stood aghast,
Wild terror in his e'e;
For dead upon the oaken floor
He saw the sisters three.
He gazed adown and better gazed,
Alas! Death told her tale
In the livid cheeks and staring eyes,
And lips so wan and pale.
Then by the corpse of his young wife
He flung him in despair;
Wildly he kissed her livid lips,
And he smoothed her tresses rare.
When hark! the low laugh of a child
Broke sudden on his ear,
And through the solemn chamber rang
Sweet, musical and clear.
James started -- lo! upon the floor
His bonnie bairn was placed;
And in sportive glee her dimpled arms,
A massive cup embraced.
The Queen had fallen from her chair,
The goblet from her han';
And on the floor the ruby wine
Meand'ring slowly ran.
Then, left without a guiding hand,
The hapless little maid
Crept to and fro in childish glee,
And with the goblet played.
And she gaily to the goblet laughed
As 'twere a living thing;
But her young voice sae sweet and fresh
To action roused the King.
And he has snatched his bonnie bairn
From the wine spattered floor;
Then like a man of sense bereft,
Rushed through the chamber door.
Full tenderlie his bonnie bairn
He carried in him arms;
And he kissed her lips, and hushed her cries,
And soothed her wild alarms.
He hurried to the Castel door,
He called his weary men--
"I canna bide within these wa's,
We maun to horse again.
"To horse, to horse my faithful lads,
With whatten speed ye may;
In the saddle I wad fain forget
The horrors of this day."
At the King's word their horse are brocht
Frae cosy beild and sta',
Then out intil the dreary nicht
They swiftly rode awa'.
The laddie-father had his bairn
Firm on the saddle set--
"A sicht I've seen, wee Maggie mine,
In never can forget.
"This day your mother have I seen
As she lay cauld and dead;
And for your mother's ain dear sake,
In ne'er again shall wed.
"But Maggie mine, thou yet shall shine
In Court and stately he',
Amang fair Scotland's fairest maids
The fairest of the a'."
He spake, and hushed the' unconscious child,
While fast his tears fell dun;
And a dreary ride that nicht they rode
Till they reach'ed Stirling town.
Alas for kingly vows --
alas For faith and constancie;
A month had barely passed awa',
A month, and barely three,
When James cam' into Embro' town
With all a Monarch's pride,
And rode to ancient Holyrood
To wed an English bride.
But the sisters three forgotten lie
Aneath the marble stane
Set in the centre of the quier,
In the auld kirk of Dumblane.
I'd love to have you drop by!--Barbara
