66 Sir William. He is described as being ane strang man of bodie & delyted much in hounting and halking. He died in the year of his age 63, and of our lord 1639. William succeeded his father Sir William. In my opinion he was the most illustrious member of the family. He was the author of the "Historie," from which I have gleaned the above interesting notices. At the close of the work he modestly speaks of himself thus-"This Sir William was pious and learned, and had ane excellent vaine in poyesie; he delyted much in building and planting, he builded the new wark in the north syde of the close, and the battlement of the back wall, and reformend the whole house exceedingly. He lived religiouslie and died Christianlie in the year of (his) age 63, and in the year of (our) Lord 1657." How Sir William came to record the exact date of his death is somewhat curious. It could not have been inserted by the editor of the work; for he says he has retained the exact orthography, contractions, and punctuation of the MS., making no alteration whatever. "Sir William Mure, knight," as he styles himself, deserves a somewhat fuller notice than space has permitted me to give of his ancestors. He seems to have received (for the period in which he lived) an excellent education. He early acquired a taste for literature, which he assiduously prosecuted throughout the whole course of his life, and from which he derived peculiar pleasure. When a youth he wrote some Latin verses on the death of his grandfather. "His manuscript poetry," says the editor of The Historie,' "is considerable. Among the larger pieces is a translation of Virgil; a religious poem which he calls The joy of Tears,' and another, The Challenge and Reply.'" Several of his pieces have been published. In the "Muses' Welcome," a collection of poems and addresses made to King James on his visiting Scotland in 1617, there is a poetical address to the king at Hamilton written by Sir Wm. Mure of Rowallan. In 1628 he published a poetical translation of the celebrated "Hecatombe Christiana," of Boyd of Trochrig, together with a small original piece called "Doomsday." In 1629 he published "The true Crucifixe for true Catholikes," and wrote a version of the Psalms of David, which, had it been submitted to the Assembly, would doubtless have been adopted, its merits being highly spoken of by competent judges. A specimen of his skill in verse may not be out of place here. Therefore I submit the following version of "PSALM 23. 1. The Lord my scheepherd is, of want I never shal complaine. 2. for mee to rest on hee doth grant 3. Hee leads me stillest streams beside, in righteous paths hee me doth guide 4. The valey dark of death's aboad to passe, I'l fear no ill, for thou art with me Lord; thy rod 5. For me a Table thou dost spread in presence of my foes with oyle thou dost anoint my head, 6. Mercie and goodness all my dayes and in thy hous, thy name to praise, Although devoted to literature, he took part in active public life, was a "member of the Parliament held at Edinburgh in June, 1643, and of the committee of Warre, for the sheriffdom of Air, 1644." He was present at the siege of Newcastle, and fought in several engagements between the Royal and Parliamentary forces. In a postscript to a letter addressed to his "loving sone," and dated from Tyneside, before Newcastle, he says:-"I bless the Lord I am in good health and sound every way. I got a sore blow at the battle upon my back wt the butt of a musket, which hath vexed me very much, but specially in the night, being deprived thereby of sleep, but I hope it shall peece and peece weare away, for I am already nearly sound. I thank God for it." Being a man of piety, Sir William befriended the Covenanters, and as much as possible protected his tenantry from the tyranny of the troopers who scoured the countryside at the period. He was intimate with the Rev. William Guthrie of Fenwick, who, as already stated, preached upon several occasions in the "auld kirk" of the castle. Sir William was succeeded by his son William, who walked in the footsteps of his pious parent, and suffered much for his religious opinions. Conventicles were held by him in the castle, and permitted to take place upon the estate. For this, he fell under the suspicion of the Government, and on several occasions suffered imprisonment. He died about 1686, and was succeeded by his eldest son, who shared in the persecution directed against his father. He was the last male representative, and died in 1700, leaving one daughter. Dame Jean Mure succeded her father and married William Fairlie of Bruntsfield. This is the lady who was married under the "marriage tree." The fruit of the romantic union were three daughters, one of whom (Lady Jean Mure) succeeded to the estate, and married Sir James Campbell, youngest son of James, second Earl of Loudoun. At this stage of the history of the Mures, the estate passed into the hands of the Loudoun family, and is still retained by them. The late Countess of Loudoun was greatly attached to Rowallan. She often visited the castle, carefully inspected the rooms, and expended considerable sums on repairs to prevent the old place from falling to pieces. But she has gone the way of all the earth, and left the old fabric to battle with the elements and fall a victim to the ravages of time and decay, a fate to which it is bound to succumb, for it now totters beneath a crushing weight of years. I need not dwell further upon the beautiful scenery in the neighbourhood of Rowallan Castle. Numbers visit the place, and many pic-nic parties of lads and lasses, during the months of summer, enjoy themselves beneath the spreading trees in front of the castle, and merrily foot it upon the green sward. I spent some hours about the old place so pleasantly that I was loath to leave the scene, and turned round again and again to have a look at the relic of feudalism in the valley below when departing. While retracing my steps to the highway I composed the following verses, which find a place here not on account of any merit they may contain, but because they describe the old building as it is, and the state of my mind on the occasion of ROWALLAN. Farewell unto thy rocky steep, Thy crumbling walls and ruined keep; That tells me of a bygone age. No more does mirth or laughter sound, Thy knights and vassals sleep in dust, Thy ruined keep and shattered tower, That all must change and parted be, And crumble and decay like thee. Entering Kilmaurs road my reverie was interrupted by the rumbling of wheels. Looking in the direction I observed a medical gentleman with whom I am intimate driving at a brisk pace. Observing me, he drew up, and offered to convey me to Kilmarnock. Availing myself of the speedy mode of reaching home, I was soon seated beside him, and arrived in town as the clocks tolled forth the hour of four, after to me a short but pleasant drive. Jostling through the throng I directed my steps homeward, where I met with a gleeful reception from my little folks, and a scolding from my wife for stopping until dinner was "entirely spoiled." Somehow or other I never ate a better than I did that Saturday afternoon. Country air sharpens the appetite, and makes one relish anything savoury. CHAPTER XI. From Kilmarnock to Stewarton-The Parish and its Boundaries-The town: its Buildings, Trades, and Eminent Characters-Corsehill Castle and its Traditions-The Parish Church-The late William Cunninghame of Lainshaw-The Churchyard-The Viaduct-Lainshaw Castle The Murder of Hugh, fourth Earl of Eglinton. Ir is delightful on a radiant summer day to stroll along a country road and mark with ecstatic joy the form and features of the landscape, or recline on some gowan-spangled lawn and gaze at the sun through barred fingers. It is a perfect luxury when "Deep in The many-bladed grass the vi'let springs, The hare-bell and the cowslip knit their heads, In low obscurity, crowd on the sward, And send their odours, like the captive's sighs, Or prayers of saints, to Heaven upon the breeze." Ah, how I love the country! I delight to gaze on Earth's ample page, and adore the Mighty Architect of the Universe through His works. "I love not man the less, but Nature more, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." I never enjoyed myself or Nature's beauties to greater advantage than I did when walking between Kilmarnock and "the auld toun o' Stewarton." My way lay along Kilmaurs road ---a road whose scenery for a considerable distance is very tame, so much so that I did not feel myself thoroughly in the country until I turned into the old Stewarton highway which branches off some mile and a-half from the town. This roadlike all old ones-is very undulating, and the pedestrian while |