wn hand to the first Duke of
Queensberry, not one of which had been included in the collection
printed for the Bannatyne Club in 1826, nor was, in fact, known to be in
existence by anyone outside the family of Buccleuch. His book includes
also the fragment of a memoir of Dundee and his times, left in
manuscript by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, of Hoddam, Walter Scott's
friend. The memoir was thrown up, it is said, in despair on the
appearance of "Old Mortality." Some idea of the extent to which Napier
suffered from the _Lues Boswelliana_ may be gathered from the fact that
he regards even the Claverhouse of that incomparable romance as a libel.

[3] "The Hell wicked-witted, bloodthirsty Graham of Claverhouse hated to
spend his time with wine and women."--"Life of Walter Smith," in
Walker's "Biographia Presbyteriana."

[4]

"I saw the man who at St. Neff did see
His conduct, prowess, martial gallantry:
He wore a white plumach that day; not one
Of Belgians wore a white, but him alone
And though that day was fatal, yet he fought,
And for his part fair triumphs with him brought."

Laing's "Fugitive Scottish Poetry of the Seventeenth Century."

[5] The passage occurs in the fifth book. Dundee, retreating before the
forces of the Convention, is represented as musing over his camp-fire on
the ingratitude of the Prince whose life he had once saved.

"Tu vero, Arctoae gentis praedo improbe, tanti
Fons et origo mali, Nassovi, ingrate virorum,
Immeritum quid me, nunc Caesaris arma secutum,
Prosequeris toties, et iniquo Marte fatiges?
Nonne ego, cum lasso per Belgia stagna caballo
Agmina liligeri fugeres victricia Galli,
Ipse mei impositum dorso salientis equi te
Hostibus eripui, salvumque in castra reduxi?
Haecne mihi meriti persolvis praemia tanti?
Proh scelus! O Soceri rapti nequissime sceptri!"

The translation, which is certainly, as Napier calls it, both imperfect
and free, is to this effect:

"When the fierce Gaul through Belgian stanks you fled,
Fainting, alone, and destitute of aid,
While the proud victor urged your doubtful fate,
And your tired courser sunk beneath your weight;
Did I not mount you on my vigorous steed,
And save your person by his fatal speed?
For life and freedom then by me restored
I'm thus rewarded by my Belgick Lord.
Ungrateful Prince!"

[6] The stories of Claverhouse's conduct at Seneff, a