It will now be necessary to revert to the original feud between the Maxwells and the Johnstones,[10] or, as it was emphatically called, "The foul debate," one indeed of the most remarkable feuds upon the western marches. This feud occurred between John Lord Maxwell, the father of the friend of Sir David Bruce (John Lord Maxwell), and the Laird of Johnstone. Two bands of mercenaries, commanded by Captains Cranstoun and Larie, were sent from Edinburgh to support Johnstone, who were attacked and cut to pieces at Crawford-muir, by Robert Maxwell, natural brother to the chieftain, who following up his advantages, burned Johnstone's castle of Lockwood. The Johnstones soon appearing with only forty horsemen, engaged double that number of the enemy, put them to flight, and pursuing a certain length, and through deep design then as suddenly retreated. They were soon followed by the whole body of the enemy, with Lord Maxwell at their head, until they came to the Torwood, on the south-east side of the Dryfe Sands, from whence instantly four hundred of the Annandale men sprung up, flew upon the surprised enemy, and after a short but bloody struggle, put them into confusion; and being joined by a few Scots from Eskdale, under the Laird of Buccleugh, completed their victory, killing upwards of seven hundred of the Nithsdale men. The Annandale men being now reinforced, routed their enemy; the Maxwells drove them to the Gotterbury Ford of the river Annan, where many were drowned. [Footnote 10: _Vide_ "Minstrelsy of the Scottish border."--"Beauties of Scotland."] Lockwood Castle, the residence of the family of Annandale, was very beautifully situated, and commanded a very extensive prospect. It must have been a place of great strength, having had prodigiously thick walls, and being surrounded with impassable bogs and morasses. It was this circumstance that made James the sixth to say, that "The man who built Lockwood, though outwardly honest, must have been a knave in his heart." "This fatal battle," which we have now detailed, "was followed by a long feud, attended with all the circumstances of horror proper to a barbarous age."[11] [Footnote 11: "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," vol. I. p. 218.] One day David having returned from an excursion on horseback, he said to his brother, who had declined riding out with him, "The weather has proved very favourable, though the morning lowered." "Have you rode far?" inquired Robert. "I have been with old Davie Maxwell, not farther." "Ay," rejoined Robert, "but far enough, I dare swear, to relieve the needy carl's wants." "I did so, certainly," said David--"what then?" "And more the fool you for doing so," remonstrated Robert. "Now," added he, "there is not a man in Scotland, from Skye to Solway Firth, that would have done so but yourself!" "And that," rejoined David, "was the very reason that I did it!"