[44] At the foot of the hill on which the castle stands, near the north-west corner of the park, are two fine sheets of water, communicating with each other, called _Rothly Ponds_. Formerly they were tastefully ornamented by a shrubbery, which was disposed round the margin of the water. A boat and fishing tackling were formerly kept here, and a tent was pitched in the summer near the lakes, where visitants were plentifully regaled by the late generous proprietor, who frequently amused himself at this place. _Vide_ p. 105, v. 2, of Northumberland, 1811. THE BATTLE OF HUMBLEDOWN HILL. (_By E.W. August 5th, 1791._) The author of this suggested the idea from reading the verse of Chevy Chace:-- “This vow full well the King perform’d After, on Humbledown, In one day fifty Knights were slain With Lords of great renown.” In the second volume of Guthrie’s History of Scotland, the battle is fully described. Sir Swinton was a doughty knight As ever Scotland bred; Than Gordon none more brave in fight, Did ever cross the Tweed. But deidly feuds subsisted long Between these valiant twain, They never met--but straight they fought With all their martial train. At last they hied with ilk his band To Brae of Humbledown, Where Douglas and his army lay Wi’ Knights of great renown. Now baith afore the Douglas stood, And glowr’d wi’ hatefu’ spite, And half unsheath’d their shining blades, And quak’d and burn’d to fight. Then mighty Douglas leap’d between To redd the foul debate, “O Sirs!” he cries, “thrust in your glaives And quell this rising state. “For, look you! where the English lies On yonder tented field, To morrow’s morn, if right I ween, We’ll need both sword and sheild. “Gin we to Scotland mean to go, Our road lies thro’ yon host; First spend your fury on the foe, Then fight--if fight ye must.” He spake--in sullens baith withdrew, Now all prepare for fight, And arms and armour clattering brake The silence of the night. In bluid red clouds the Sun arose, Which saw that fatal day, Where bretheless on the green hill side Fu’ many a bra’ Scot lay. For sair--the English bowmen gall’d The van--the ungear’d stood, Nae thirsty shaft e’er reach’d the earth Unstain’d wi’ Scottish bluid. Then Sir John Swinton loudly cries “Bra’ lads! gif we must die, Follow our cheif, and syne our foes Shall bear us companie.” These words when Adam Gordon heard, He hastens to the place, “When our dear country claims our aid Let all our quarrels cease. “For, mine are gone--most valiant Knight! And now a boon I crave-- That frae thy noble arm--the meed Of Knighthood I must have.” “And mine for aye!”--replies Sir John, And to his breast him drew; Then dubb’d him Knight, while deidly flight Of arrows round them flew.