Chapter 1

O ay! the Monks, the Monks they did the mischief!
Theirs all the grossness, all the superstition
Of a most gross and superstitious age--
May He be praised that sent the healthful tempest
And scatter'd all these pestilential vapours!
But that we owed them _all_ to yonder Harlot
Throned on the seven hills with her cup of gold,
I will as soon believe, with kind Sir Roger,
That old Moll White took wing with cat arid broomstick,
And raised the last night's thunder.
OLD PLAY.

The village described in the Benedictine's manuscript by the name of
Kennaquhair, bears the same Celtic termination which occurs in
Traquhair, Caquhair, and other compounds. The learned Chalmers derives
this word Quhair, from the winding course of a stream; a definition
which coincides, in a remarkable degree, with the serpentine turns of
the river Tweed near the village of which we speak. It has been long
famous for the splendid Monastery of Saint Mary, founded by David the
First of Scotland, in whose reign were formed, in the same county, the
no less splendid establishments of Melrose, Jedburgh, and Kelso. The
donations of land with which the King endowed these wealthy
fraternities procured him from the Monkish historians the epithet of
Saint, and from one of his impoverished descendants the splenetic
censure, "that he had been a sore saint for the Crown."

It seems probable, notwithstanding, that David, who was a wise as well
as a pious monarch, was not moved solely by religious motives to those
great acts of munificence to the church, but annexed political views
to his pious generosity. His possessions in Northumberland and
Cumberland became precarious after the loss of the Battle of the
Standard; and since the comparatively fertile valley of Teviot-dale
was likely to become the frontier of his kingdom, it is probable he
wished to secure at least a part of these valuable possessions by
placing them in the hands of the monks, whose property was for a long
time respected, even amidst the rage of a frontier war. In this manner
alone had the King some chance of ensuring protection and security to
the cultivators of the soil; and, in fact, for several ages the
possessions of these Abbeys were each a sort of Goshen, enjoying the
calm light of peace and immunity, while the rest of the country,
occupied by wild clans and marauding barons, was one dark scene of
confusion, blood, and unremitted outrage.

But these immunities did not continue down to the union of the crowns.
Long before that period the wars betwixt England and Scotland had lost
their original character of international hostilities, and had become
on the part of the English, a struggle for subjugation, on that of the
Scots a