trange to state,
he was under the necessity of drowning for "lack of trees and halters."
Six were hanged in Edinburgh, and the rest either acquitted or put in
prison. This sharp and salutary lesson was evidently laid to heart, as we
learn that, for some time after, extraordinary quietness prevailed.

In a few years, however, the state of matters on the Borders seems to have
gone from bad to worse. The Scotts and the Ellwoods (Elliots) were at
deadly feud, and as the result of their frequent and violent quarrels the
whole district was thrown into confusion and disorder. Queen Mary had
recently returned from France; and, hearing how things were going in this
distracted part of her realm, came to Jedburgh to hold court in person.
For more than a week she was busily engaged in hearing a great variety of
cases that were brought before her, and imposing various modes and degrees
of punishment on the offenders. It was on this occasion she made her
famous visit to Hermitage Castle, in Liddesdale. The Earl of Bothwell had
been stationed there for some time, in order if possible to "daunton" the
"wicked limmers" by whom the district had long been infested. One day when
in pursuit of a party of Elliots, having got considerably ahead of his
company, he encountered a famous mosstrooper, John Elliot of Park, the
"little Jock Elliot" of Border song (?), and drawing a "dag" or pistol
fired at him, wounding him severely in the thigh. The gallant marauder
turned upon his assailant, and, with a two-handed sword, which he wielded
with amazing dexterity, bore him to the ground, leaving him to all
appearance dead. Some have been wicked enough to wish that this _coup
d'epee_ had been more effective, as both Queen and country would have been
spared much trouble and many heart burnings had Elliot's well-aimed blow
fallen with more deadly effect. Mary, hearing that her favourite courtier
lay ill at Hermitage, resolved to pay him a friendly visit. Leaving
Jedburgh early in the morning, in the company of her brother Murray, and
other officers, she rode by way of Hawick over the hills to Liddesdale--a
distance of twenty miles. The road was rough, and not without its hazards,
especially to one unacquainted with the district--the ground near the
watershed being full of quaking bogs and treacherous morasses. There is a
place still known as the "Queen's Mire," near the head of the Braidlie
burn, where the palfrey on which her Majesty was riding came to g