James Graham, Marquis of Montrose, was executed in Edinburgh, May 21, 1650, for an attempt to overthrow the power of the commonwealth, and restore Charles II. The ballad is a narrative of the event, supposed to be related by an aged Highlander, who had followed Montrose throughout his campaigns, to his grandson, Evan Cameron. Lochaber is a district of Scotland in the southwestern part of the county of Inverness. Dundee is a seaport town in the county of Forfar. Inverlochy was a castle in Inverness-shire. Montrose was betrayed by a man named MacLeod of Assynt. Dunedin is the Gaelic name for Edinburgh. Warristoun was Archibald Johnston of Warristoun, an inveterate enemy of Montrose.]

COME hither, Evan Cameron! Come, stand beside my knee:

I hear the river roaring down towards the wintry sea;

There's shouting on the mountain-side, there's war within the blast, Old faces look upon me, old forms go trooping past;

I hear the pibroch wailing amidst the din of fight,

And my dim svirit wakes again upon the verge of night.

"T was I that led the Highland host through wild Lochaber's snows,
What time the plaided clans came down to battle with Montrose.
I've told thee how the Southrons fell beneath the broad claymore,
And how we smote the Campbell clan by Inverlochy's shore.
I've told thee how we swept Dundee, and tamed the Lindsay's pride;
But never have I told thee yet how the Great Marquis died!

A traitor sold him to his foes; O deed of deathless shame!

I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet with one of Assynt's name
Be it upon the mountain's side, or yet within the glen,

Stand he in martial gear alone, or backed by arméd men —
Face him, as thou wouldst face the man who wronged thy sire's re-

nown;

Remember of what blood thou art, and strike the caitiff down.

They brought him to the Watergate, hard bound with hempen span,
As though they held a lion there, and not an unarmed man.
They set him high upon a cart· the hangman rode below -
They drew his hands behind his back, and bared his noble brow:
Then, as a hound is slipped from leash, they cheered-the common

throng,

And blew the note with yell and shout, and bade him pass along.

But when he came, though pale and wan, he looked so great and high,
So noble was his manly front, so calm his steadfast eye,
The rabble rout forebore to shout, and each man held his breath,
For well they knew the hero's soul was face to face with death.

And then a mournful shudder through all the people crept,
And some that came to scoff at him, now turned aside and wept.

-

Had I been there with sword in hand, and fifty Camerons by,
That day through high Dunedin's streets had pealed the slogan cry.
Not all their troops of trampling horse, nor might of mailéd men
Not all the rebels in the south had borne us backwards then!
Once more his foot on Highland heath had trod as free as air,
Or I, and all who bore my name, been laid around him there.

It might not be. They placed him next within the solemn hall,
Where once the Scottish kings were throned amidst their nobles all,
But there was dust of vulgar feet on that polluted floor,
And perjured traitors filled the place where good men sate before.
With savage glee came Warristoun to read the murderous doom,
And then uprose the great Montrose in the middle of the room.

Now by my faith as belted knight, and by the name I bear,
And by the bright Saint Andrew's cross that waves above us there -
Yea, by a greater, mightier oath, and oh, that such should be!
By that dark stream of royal blood that lies 'twixt you and me,
I have not sought in battle-field a wreath of such renown,
Nor hoped I, on my dying day, to win a martyr's crown!

The morning dawned full darkly, the rain came flashing down, And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt lit up the gloomy town: The thunder crashed across the heaven, the fatal hour was come, Yet aye broke in, with muffled beat, the 'larum of the drum. There was madness on the earth below, and anger in the sky, And young and old, and rich and poor, came forth to see him die,

Ah God! that ghastly gibbet! how dismal 't is to see
The great, tall, spectral skeleton, the ladder, and the tree!
Hark! Hark! it is the clash of arms, the bells begin to toll-
He is coming! he is coming! God's mercy on his soul!
One last long peal of thunder - the clouds are cleared away,
And the glorious sun once more looks down amidst the dazzling day

He is coming! he is coming! - Like a bridegroom from his room
Came the hero from his prison to the scaffold and the doom.
There was glory on his forehead, there was lustre in his eye,
And he never walked to battle more proudly than to die:

There was color in his visage, though the cheeks of all were wan, And they marvelled as they saw him pass, that great and goodly man!

A beam of light fell o'er him, like a glory round the shriven,
And he climbed the lofty ladder, as it were the path to heaven.
Then came a flash from out the cloud, and a stunning thunder roll,
And no man dared to look aloft, for fear was on every soul.
There was another heavy sound, a hush and then a groan;
And darkness swept across the sky - the work of death was done!

XCIII.-EXECUTION OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS.

LINGARD.

[JOHN LINGARD was born in Winchester, England, February 5, 1771, and died July 13, 1851. He was a clergyman of the Roman Catholic faith. The chief literary labor of his life was his "History of England," from the earliest period down to the revolution of 1688; the latest edition of which is in ten volumes, octavo. This work has taken a high and permanent rank in the historical literature of his country. The style is simple, correct, and manly, without being remarkable for beauty or eloquence. The chief value of the work consists in its thorough and patient research into the original sources of Engtish history. How far it is impartial, when treating upon controverted points, is a question which neither Catholics nor Protestants are exactly in a position to answer. Dr. Lingard was a sincere and conscientious Catholic; his temperament was calm and judicial; and if he betrays any bias in favor of his own faith, it is, perhaps, no more than that unconscious bias which always attends genuine conviction. His "History," at all events, should be carefully read by every one who is not content with the cheap task of deciding before he hears both sides.

Dr. Lingard also wrote "The History and Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church," and some manuals of religious teaching.

Mary of Scotland, after the total defeat of her party at the battle of Langside, In 1568, fled to England, and threw herself upon the protection of Elizabeth, queen of England, by whom, however, she was kept a prisoner for nineteen years. She was then tried by a commission, for engaging in a conspiracy against the life of Elizabeth, and condemned to death. She was beheaded February 8, 1587, at Fotheringay Castle, in Northamptonshire; and the follow ing is a description of her execution.]

In the midst of the great hall of the castle had been raised a scaffold, covered with black serge and surrounded with a low railing. About seven, the doors were thrown open; the gentlemen of the county entered with their at

tendants; and Paulet's guard augmented the number to between one hundred and fifty and two hundred spectators. Before eight, a message was sent to the queen, who replied that she would be ready in half an hour. At that time, 5 Andrews, the sheriff, entered the oratory, and Mary arose, taking the crucifix from the altar in her right, and carrying her prayer-book in her left, hand. Her servants were forbidden to follow; they insisted; but the queen bade them to be content, and turning, gave them her blessing. 10 They received it on their knees, some kissing her hands, others her mantle. The door closed; and the burst of lamentation from those within resounded through the hall.

Mary was now joined by the earl and her keepers, and descending the staircase, found, at the foot, Melville, the 15 steward of her household, who, for several weeks, had been excluded from her presence. This old and faithful servant threw himself on his knees, and wringing his hands exclaimed, "Ah, madam, unhappy me! was ever a man on earth the bearer of such sorrow as I shall be, when I report 20 that my good and gracious queen and mistress was beheaded in England!" Here his grief impeded his utterance; and Mary replied, "Good Melville, cease to lament; thou hast rather cause to joy than mourn; for thou shalt see the end of Mary Stuart's troubles. Know that this world 25 is but vanity, subject to more sorrow than an ocean of tears can bewail. But I pray thee, report that I die a true woman to my religion, to Scotland, and to France. May God forgive them that have long thirsted for my blood, as the hart doth for the brooks of water. O God, thou art the 30 author of truth, and truth itself. Thou knowest the inthat I always wished Commend me to my nothing prejudicial to crown, or favorable to

ward chambers of my thoughts, and the union of England and Scotland. son, and tell him that I have done the dignity or independence of his

Sir Amias Paulet was the person who had the custody of Mary's

person.

the pretended superiority of our enemies." Then bursting into tears, she said, "Good Melville, farewell;" and kissing him, "once again, good Melville, farewell, and pray for thy mistress and thy queen." It was remarked as some5 thing extraordinary, that this was the first time in her life she had ever been known to address a person with the pronoun thou."

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The procession now set forward. It was headed by the sheriff and his officers; next followed Paulet and Drury, 10 and the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent; and lastly came the Scottish queen, with Mellville bearing her train. She wore the richest of her dresses that which was appropriate to the rank of a queen dowager. Her step was firm, and her countenance cheerful. She bore without shrinking 15 the gaze of the spectators, and the sight of the scaffold, the block, and the executioner, and advanced into the hall with that grace and majesty which she had so often displayed in her happier days, and in the palace of her fathers. To aid her as she mounted the scaffold, Paulet offered 20 his arm. "I thank you, sir," said Mary; "it is the last trouble I shall give you, and the most acceptable service you have ever rendered me.”

The queen seated herself on a stool which was prepared for her. On her right stood the two earls; on the left the 25 sheriff and Beal, the clerk of the council; in front, the

executioner from the Tower, in a suit of black velvet, with his assistant, also clad in black. The warrant was read, and Mary, in an audible voice, addressed the assembly.

She would have them recollect that she was a sov30 ereign princess, not subject to the parliament of England, but brought there to suffer by injustice and violence. She, however, thanked her God that he had given her this opportunity of publicly professing her religion, and of declaring, as she had often before declared, that she had never 35 imagined, nor compassed, nor consented to, the death of the English queen, nor ever sought the least harm to her