268
and let it gang to the beast;" and it is not supposed
that he ever profited in any manner by his son's
abilities.
The principal works of the Chevalier Ramsay not
yet alluded to are—a Discourse on the Epic Poem, in
French, generally prefixed to the later editions of
Telemachus; an Essay on Civil Government; Re-
marks on Lord Shaftesbury's Characteristics (French);
a few English poems of no value; and two letters in
French to Racine the younger, upon the true senti-
ments of Pope in the Essay on Man,
BAMS AY, JAMES ALEXANDER BROWN. See
DALHOUSIE (MARQUIS OF).
RANDOLPH, THOMAS, Earl of Moray. This
ancient Scottish paladin, who occupies so prominent
a part in the wars of Robert Bruce, was sister's son
of that great sovereign. He first appears among
the adherents of good King Robert, when the latter
commenced his desperate attempt to win the crown
of Scotland, and make it worth wearing. In this
way his name, as Thomas Randolph, knight of
Strah-don, occurs in the list of that intrepid band
who crowned his uncle at Scone; and in the disas-
trous skirmish soon after, near Methven, he was one
of the prisoners who fell into the hands of the
English. As the insurgent Scots were regarded as
rebels against their liege-lord, Edward I., the usual
laws of war were dispensed with; and thus, either
with or without trial, the noblest and best of Scot-
land were consigned to the dungeon or the gallows.
The worst of these alternatives would probably have
been the fate of Randolph, in consequence of his
near relationship to Bruce, had not the brave Adam
de Gordon, who was a favourite with the English
king, interceded in his behalf. Randolph's life in
consequence was spared, but it was only on condi-
tion that he should swear fealty to Edward: and to
this he submitted with that facility so characteristic
of the knightly fidelity of the middle ages. He swore
that he would be Edward's man, and the deadly
enemy of all his enemies (including of course his
own uncle and kindred), and thus was transformed
in a trice from a Scottish patriot into a friend and
servant of the oppressor. If anything can apologize
for such tergiversation, it might be the difficulty of
deciding at times with which party the right re-
mained; and many may have thought, with Sir
Roger de Coverly, that much might be said on both
sides—especially when they had a gallows in view.
Randolph having thus changed his party, appears
to have fought for it with a courage that did not
belie his future renown. He was even among that
band, headed by Aymer de Valence and John of
Lorn, that chased Robert Bruce among the wilds of
Galloway with blood-hounds, and nearly succeeded
in capturing or slaying him. On this occasion Sir
Thomas pursued the chase so eagerly, that he took
his uncle's standard-bearer prisoner, along with the
royal banner. But this unworthy alienation was not
to continue much longer, and an event occurred by
which Randolph was to be recovered to his country
and his true fame. At this time Sir James Douglas,
renowned far and wide by his terrible vengeance upon
the English, who had garrisoned the castle of his
fathers, was entrenched among the depths of Ettrick
Forest, and making it good by prowess and stratagem
against every assailant. This was a tempting adven-
ture for Randolph, and accordingly, accompanied
by Sir Alexander Stewart of Bonkill and Sir Adam
Gordon—Anglicized Scots, like himself—he set off
upon the enterprise, and encamped for the night at
a solitary house on the Lyne-water, a tributary
stream that falls into the Tweed a little above Peebles.
Douglas, however, whom no enemy ever caught
asleep, happened to be in the neighbourhood; and
on approaching the house he overheard some one
within exclaiming "the devil!" with true military
emphasis. Guessing from this token that the build-
ing was tenanted by stout soldiers, he made a sudden
assault, scattered the surprised inmates, and captured
Stewart and Randolph, whom he conducted to his
master next morning. The meeting between the
king and his renegade nephew was characteristic of
such a party-changing period. "Nephew," said
Bruce, "you have for a while renounced your faith,
but now you must be reconciled to me." "You
reproach me," answered the nephew sharply, "and
yet better deserve to be reproached yourself; for since
you made war against the King of England, you
should have vindicated your right in the open field,
and not by cowardly sleights and skirmishes." '' That
may hereafter fall out, and soon," replied the king—
who had commenced in this very fashion, until mis-
fortune taught him a wiser course of action; "mean-
time, since you have spoken so rudely, it is fitting
that your proud words should receive due chastise-
ment, until you learn to know the right, and bow to
it as you ought." After this sage rebuke Randolph
was sent into close and solitary confinement, to digest
the lesson at leisure. How wisely such a punish-
ment was inflicted, and how well it wrought, was
attested not only in the future life of Randolph, but
in the history of his country.
On being set at liberty, Randolph was not only
restored to the king's favour, but invested with the
earldom of Moray, which had large territories attached
to it; and having set these in order, he repaired to
that warfare in which he was to be surpassed by none
except Bruce himself. It was now also, perhaps,
that the generous rivalry commenced between him
and his gallant captor Sir James Douglas, which
continued to the end of their lives. This noble con-
tention was now signalized by the "good Lord James"
undertaking the siege of Roxburgh Castle, and Ran-
dolph that of Edinburgh, the two strongest fortresses
in the kingdom, and still in possession of the English.
The garrison in Edinburgh Castle was commanded
by Sir Piers Leland, a knight of Gascony, but the
soldiers having suspected him of holding communi-
cation with the Scottish king, deposed and imprisoned
him, and set one of their own countrymen in his
place, who was both wight and wise. While Ran-
dolph beleaguered the well-defended castle, tidings
reached him that Douglas had succeeded at Rox-
burgh; and perceiving that force was useless, he re-
solved, like his rival in arms, to have recourse to
stratagem. A favourable opportunity soon occurred.
One of his soldiers, William Frank, had in his youth
been wont to descend from the apparently inacces-
sible ramparts by a secret way in the rock, aided by
a ladder of ropes, to visit a woman in the town with
whom he intrigued; and he now offered to be the
foremost man in conducting a party up the same
path, which he still distinctly remembered. The
proposal was accepted, and Randolph, with thirty
followers, and Frank for his guide, commenced at
midnight this dangerous escalade. With the aid of
a rope-ladder they ascended in file, one man follow-
ing another in silence, and by ways where a single
false step might have precipitated the whole party to
the bottom, or roused the sentinels above. They
could even hear the footsteps of the guards going
their rounds upon the ramparts. At this instant a
stone came whizzing over their heads, with a cry
from above, "Aha! I see you!" and they thought
that all was over. "Now, help them, God," ex-
claims Barbour, at this point of the narrative, "for