Thomas Anderson

Events 

Date of Birth: unknown.

Place of Birth: unknown.

Date of Death: unknown.

Place of Death: unknown.

Relationships

Father: uncertain.

Mother: uncertain.

Spouse: uncertain.

Children: 

(Complete source citations for facts about the children on this page are currently outside of the scope of this project.)

Isabel Anderson (baptized 15 August 1757 - possibly died 4 May 1825 at Thirlestane, Easter Lodge) possibly married William Beattie of Hutlerburn.

Commentary

It is difficult to sort out the exact relationships between the Andersons who were blacksmiths at Hutlerburn, as some of the records of baptisms and so on appear to be missing. John Anderson, a blacksmith who came from this family and later lived at Ettrickbridge, left some reminiscences, which, however, are not completely consistent with information in his obituary.  (See below). Even within John Anderson’s account (at least, as given in the magazine), there are some inconsistencies. In the first part of the story, John’s grandfather’s name is “Tam Anderson”, but in the second part it is “John Anderson”. In the first part (taking place in 1745), John’s grandmother is visiting her sister (“tittie”) at Huntly, but in the second part (taking place in 1746), his grandmother had been dead “some time afore this”. (I suppose it is possible she had died in the meantime.) I think “Tam Anderson” is more likely to be the correct name as the lectio difficilior and since a confusion with John Anderson the narrator is plausible. Also, Thomas Andersons are recorded as smiths in Easter Oakwood in the early 1700s.

Here are the Andersons I have come across at Easter Oakwood and Hutlerburn in the period, mostly in the Yarrow parish registers:

Easter Oakwood:

Thomas Anderson baptized 1679.

John Anderson had a son Thomas baptized 1698.

Michael Anderson and Janet Peterson had a son Andrew baptized in 1704.

Thomas Anderson, smith, married Agnes Curror in 1703 and had several children baptized: Jennat in 1704, Margaret in 1706, Thomas in 1708, and Bessie in 1709.

Thomas Anderson, smith, married Isabel Porthouse in 1717 and had Mary (baptized 1718) and Thomas (baptized 1721).

Hutlerburn:

Thomas Anderson had a daughter Elizabeth baptized 1727.

John Anderson, smith, had a daughter Isabel baptized 1727.

Thomas Anderson, smith, had a daughter Isabel baptized 1757.

The John Anderson of the obituary was presumably born at Hutlerburn about 1770.

Evidence

I haven’t seen John Anderson’s 1857 obituary, but details have been posted online by ‘Luella’ at RootsChat:

-John Anderson, died 1857 at Ettrick, aged 87.

-John’s family has been about “The Forest” for upwards of three hundred years, and during that time there has been an uninterrupted line of blacksmiths among them.

-John’s great-great grandfather came from Blainslie, near Lauder, and commenced working as a blacksmith at Lindean, near Selkirk.

-From Lindean, the family removed to Easter Oakwood, then to Hutle[r]burn.

-The father of the deceased, as well as his three sons, John, Thomas and Willi[am], were blacksmiths.

-John, the eldest, married Helen Little (21 December 1798) in Yarrow, and came to reside at Ettrickbridge in 1800. From this marriage was born two sons and four daughters.

-The eldest son Thomas succeeded to his father’s property.

-He died in the parish of Kirkhope, and is buried in Yarrow churchyard.

An account, given by the same John Anderson, of events in 1745-6 involving his grandfather, Thomas (or John?) Anderson (The Border Counties’ Magazine v. 1 pp. 91-95, v. 2 pp. 109-112):

“The Laird of Harden’s Escape from Oakwood: a Tale of the ‘45, as related by John Anderson, blacksmith, Ettrick Bridge”

LISTEN, an' I sall tell ye hoo Harden lost sae muckle gude land aboot 1746, for I used to hear ma granfaither tell it ower mony a time, an' he had some reason to ken, as ye wull hear. Ye maun understand, then, that oor family can trace theirsells back for mair than 300 years blacksmiths in Borthwick and Ettrick to Scott o' Harden—first at Harden on Borthwick Water ; after, at his Tower o' Aikwood, where he settled on huz a hoose an' smiddy, wi' a cow's gang, at thae auld wa's, close to the water below Aikwood Tower. Aye, that is just the stance o' ma granfaither's hoose an' smiddy in the '45. A capital hand he was at ony kind o' wark, but particularly at guns an' pikes an' swords ; an' a muckle thocht o' man he was in thae times. Ma faither was but a plain worker, an' wad rather hae wanted that kind o'wark, and stuck to horse-shooin' an' the ordinar' farmers' wark ; but the auld man stack aye up for the family credit on the fechtin' gear— nae doot handed doon frae the ridin' times, under the Harden family.       

     Weel, ye maun ken that Harden was oot in the '45. It was sair again' the advice o' his freens-particularly Buccleuch, his kinsman, who warned him o' the upshot. But he was a gallant fellow, fou o' chivalry an' enthusiasm for Prince Chairlie ; and, although he hang back for a while, it was mair owing to his leddy, to whom he had been married no lang afore, and to some fash o' getting a decent squad o' men thegether ; for at that time there was a bad feelin' in this watergate an' a' through the south country again' the Stuarts an' a that wore kilts-nae doot, owin' to the persecutin' times. Weel, but at last Harden took the road wi' fifty men, an' joined the Prince in Edinburgh just the day afore the battle o' Prestonpans. When the news o' the Prince's victory cam' oot to Ettrick, ma granfaither used to say he never saw sic a panic, for a' that Harden sent oot a special messenger to the leddy wi' the news, an' that she was to tell the folk to be under nae apprehension, for that a' property wad be respekit, an' no a hoof wad be ta'en frae the owners withoot payment ; yet, for a' that, naebody had ony faith in savage Heelandman, and what could Harden do to protect them ? He had only half-a-dizen o' men that belanged Ettrick ; the lave was a vagabond set frae Liddesdale and other parts that naebody kenned, and the maist o' them ootlaws, it was said, that caredna whae they foucht for sae lang as they had a chance o ' reivin' an' plunderin', an' nae matter whae they were-kingsmen or rebels. Sae, for twae days there was naethin' but drivin' gudes an' gear up the water, particularly horse an' nolt. Od, yere granfaither ance tauld me that he rade on a powny alang wi' the men drivin' the Brounmoor stock as far as Helmerlock. I think he said he was aboot ten or twal year auld then.      

     Weel, but after a' , there was little skaith frae the Heelandmen in this district. Some horse were ta'en frae Carterhaugh an' Newark, an' a bit paper voucher left, which told that they wad be paid for when the King gat his ain ; but exceptin' that, there wae naethin' to compleen o'. But, to mak' a lang tale short, Culloden cam' aboot, an' the Prince's cause was ruined. News cam' that Harden wasna amang the killed, but had managed to make his escape abroad ; an' or lang aboot a dizen o' his men fand their way to Aikwood Tower, an' confirmed the news, which gaed great cause o' rejoicin' to the leddy and his tenants, for the laird was uncommon weel liked. 

     The leddy wanted thae hallanshaker fellows to gang hameward ; but, faith ! they tauld her that they didna mean to stir till quieter times, after they had made sic a sacrifice for Harden. Sae she was fain to make the best o' a bad job, by sendin' them up to Harden, an' to be generally usefu' on the farm wark. Noo, there was never ony word cam' to the leddy for lang ; an' at last it began to be rumoured that the laird hadna been able to make his escape, after a' , but was skulkin' aboot the country yet. But naebody kenned. Ho'oever, ae thing was certain, Government offered a high reward for his apprehension, as weel as mony others. My granfaither read it at Selkirk Cross. It gave a minute description o' him, and where he was last seen ; an' ma granfaither judged, frae its wordin' , that the Government had information that Scott o' Harden was in the country still. 

     Weel, time passed on. The bluidest part o' the tragedy o' the '45 had run its coorse, and the Prince was reported safe abroad at last. But still there was nae word o' Harden. Sae it was, when, far on ae simmer nicht in the year 1746, ma granfaither, after finishing some sair wark, had ta'en a seat on the smiddy hearth, to hae a look at the Caledonian Mercury, which the leddy had sent doon, he heard a footstep, and then there came bauldly into the smiddy a stoot gangrel-lookin' chield, wi' a bit wallet slung ower his shouther, an' carryin' a tinkler's kit o' tools for solderin' pots an' pans. Ma granfaither, as he took reckonin' o' the man ower his paper, set him doon for a travellin' Gipsy-only he had a fresher complexion than the tawny, yellow countenance common amang tinkler folk. He had a black patch ower ane o' his een, heavy black whiskers, but no beard ; his breeches were the loose hosen kind, wi' coarse blue stockings, an' heavy ootsteek shoon. Weel, this chield strode richt into the middle o' the smiddy floor, and, says he-" Hae ye onything to solder, smith ? I carena what it be-bell metal, gun metal, sword handle-I'll do it for a meltith o' meat. " Says ma granfaither-" Noo, I hae a guid mind to gie ye a trial, for I dinna think thae hands o' yours look like black wark. " The man looked roond hastily, and then says he—“ Tam Anderson, are you alone ? " " Perfectly alane," said my granfaither ; "but hoo d'ye ken ma name's Tam Anderson? " "Your master told me, " replied the stranger, lowering his voice ; " and besides, I have a message from him." "An' hoo am I to ken that ye are no an impostor ? " asked my granfaither, not a little surprised at the turn things were now taking. The stranger whispered something into his ear, when with a bound my grandsire jumped down from his seat. " Gude's my life, laird ! " he exclaimed , “ an' I didna ken ye ! Gudesake ! let me steek the door, in case o' stravaigers, an' in to ma ben end, afore another word's said. It's lucky sae far that I'm mysel' the only hoosekeeper the day, as ma wife's away at Huntly seein' her tittie, an' ma ' prentice up the water fishin'. Noo, sit doon, laird, an' fa' to to sic meat as I hae, for I see by ye ye're fastin'. " 

     "Thanks, Anderson," quoth he ; "but the time I am eating, let me explain—it will save time. I am here at a great risk, and only till I get some urgent affairs settled at home, and a line of communication opened with Newcastle, where friends are watching a safe chance of getting me across the water. I tell you this because I have perfect confidence in yourself and Dalgliesh the warder, and depend upon you for my safety in this part of the country." Sae, after he had asked who were a' at Aikwood Tower, an' ma granfaither had told him as weel as he could, he got pen, ink, and a bit paper, an' wrote a few lines to Leddy Scott, which I was to be sure to deliver into her ain hands, an' to keep up the story of a " special message from the laird by a tinker, " in order to disarm suspicion. Then, after tellin' him to make free wi' meat an' drink, to go to the Tower, after lockin' him in an' takin' the Lady Scott was nane o' yere sentimental kind, that gang off in a faint at ony unco news. Whate'er her thochts were, she managed to hide them gey weel, for she only said to Dalgliesh-" Adam, ride up to the cross road at Huntly Hill with a led horse. The man you have been watching this half hour from the turret is a friend of Harden's and a Government man, who is going to Branksome to-night ; and Harden sends a line by him to me, to say that he deputes him to manage his affairs for the time. So to saddle, and hear your master's orders, and ask if he saw him safe aboard ship. " The thing was that weel acted that amang the servants it passed for current coin, an' by the time ma grand sire got back to the smiddy, the warder was weel up Huntly Hill. 

     Neist day Yedie Dalgliesh was doon to get some smith work dune, in the shape o' scythes sortin' , to get the men away to the outlyin' moors to maw the bog hay, an' to get some bothies put up to keep them there. Then the twaesome set to to devise a plan o' watchers, so as to catch a' the roads o' the watergate. I hae often heard my granfaither tell that they arranged sic a complete set o' signals an' watchers on the hill taps that no a leevin' cratur' could come doon or up Ettrick or Yarrow without it bein' kenned at Aikwood Tower at ance. There was a signal at Huntly --still called the " Watch Knowe "-another on Newark Hill, another on Deloraine, besides ane at Selkirk Peat Law. The system at nicht was by a line o' lichts—red, white, an' green ; in the daytime they used flags wi' the same colours. I've heard that the lichts were only ance set a-burnin', an' that was to gie notice that a party o' dragoons were on the road doon Gala Water ; but they passed doon Tweed to Jedburgh. Hoo they worked the signals I canna tell, but I understood that they had hoisted a' their different lichts that nicht. Beginnin' on Meigle Hill, at Galashiels, the signal was ta'en up on the Peat Law, syne on Huntly Hill ; an' then other twae lichts wad tell the news to Borthwick Water, or to Te'iothead, for that matter. 

     Weel, ye see the simmer wore on, an' the secret was to a' appearance weel kept. The laird was never seen. But at last Cumberland left the country for London. The power o' the clans was noo broken, an' Government gat mair mercifu' . The hunted rebel gentry began to find strong freens at heidquarters. There began a withdrawin' o' troops frae the north ; but still there was a strict watchin' o' a' the seaports, an' it was on this account that Harden failed to get abroad, as Berwick an' Newcastle, in particular, were fou o' Government spies watchin' the foreign-bound ships. Noo, whether it was frae a sense o' security, wi' the sodgers never lookin' after the laird, or some hopes frae friends, I dinna ken ; but i' the back end o' the '46, he began to come mair openly out atween Borthwick an' Aikwood Tower. The watchers an' beacons were maistly disused, only a red lamp in a window at Easter Huntly aboon Aikwood Mill, an' another in a hoose near Colin's Brig, which could be seen frae the Tower. Thae were aye kept ready for lichtin', in case sodgers were on the road under nicht, when they wad gie timeous warnin' up to the Tower, where there was a constant look-oot i' the watch-tower.  

     Weel, Marti'mas cam' aboot, and Harden had been stayin' some weeks constant at the Tower. Twae horses, though, were aye kept in readi ness i' the stable, wi' the saddles on. Ma granmother was dead some time afore this, an' ma granfaither, wi' a young lad, an apprentice, was just keepin' hoose by himsel' , till his dochter cam' hame to him frae her service at the term. Sae, ae very stormy nicht o' wind, an' very dark, the auld man was birslin' his bare feet on the wud fender. (Ye see, in thae days the fire was on the floor, an' a bit circled wood was in use to keep the ashes in; then aboon heid there was a wide canopy o' what they caad clat an' clay, an' a seat roond below it on three sides—just muckle the same as Jemmy Murray's, doon at the mill it made a comfortable seat on a winter nicht, and muckle better than the present kind , where nae mae than four can sit wi' ony kind o' ease.) Sae, ye see, ma granfaither was just sittin' by himsel' in this fashion late ae nicht, an' the ' prentice newly away to his bed in the hallan end, which had just ae sma window, that looked into the water. The door o' the hoose was in the front, facin' the road, and gey near the road was baith hoose an' smiddy. I am the mair particular aboot tellin' ye o' this , as it has somethin' ado wi' what followed wi' my granfaither, wha sat, as I hae said , warmin' his taes afore gangin' to his bed, an' noo switherin' whether he should gang to bed ava ; for the wind was daddin' doon lumps o' the lum-head, and noo an' then there were bursts in the blast fit to tear the roof off the auld hoose. The wind cam' swirlin ' doon the big lum, an' drave the fire athwart the floor in a fashion that made him bolt up on his feet at last, an' rax doon the family Bible ; for, ye see, he began to be eerie, bein' himsel' on sic a nicht. Besides, he was a wee superstitious aboot the " Prince o' the power o' the air " an' witches. Folk were queer aboot thae kind o' speerits at that time o' day. Weel, just as he was lichtin ' a rush can'le to see an' read a chapter, there was a loud, sharp knock at the door, that sounded high aboon the wund, an' gart his heart maist loup to his mouth ! " Nae body ever rappit on ma door sic a rap as that, " thocht he ; " an' that's no wi' knuckles ! Od, it soonds liker the butt end o' a gun or a pistol ! ” 

     He drew the bolt, an' just as he opened the door, oot went the rush licht ! Yet, in that bit moment o' time, wi' a flash o' licht frae the can'le, he saw one man dismounted at the door, wi' a cavalry sword in his hand, an' an undefined number o' sodgers in the dark behind him-red coats an' black horses !

" You are the blacksmith here, and your name is Anderson ? " asked the man wi' the sword. " It is as ye say," replied ma granfaither ; " what may yer wull be wi' me ? " "I command you, John Anderson, in the King's name, " quoth he, " to guide me to Oakwood Castle. You shall be civilly treated and rewarded for your trouble, and be free to return as soon as you take me there. Can you come at once ? " Weel, sir, I am at yer service, an' wull guide ye to there. But surely ye wull gi'e me time to pit on ma claes ? I am half-naked, an' hae off ma stockings an' shoon, an' oor roads here are no for gaun barefit on. ” " Certainly, " he replied, " but get ready as quick as you can. " Wi' that the officer moved off a wee bit to his men on the road, while ma granfaither, quick as thocht, was at the ' prentice's bedside, lifted him oot o' his bed in his sark, opened the window at the end o' the hoose, an' pushed him oot to the ootside wi' thae words hissed into his lug—“ Rin for yer life to the laird's ! Say, the black horse is at the smiddy ! 

     " Ma granfaither wasna a minute ower sune back at the fireside ; he was just fum'lin' to licht the can'le to get his shoon, when the officer marched into the middle o' the floor. Ma granfaither tried to be as lang as he could in gettin ' fettled. He was a pawky, auld-farrant blade ! But, faith ! he fand that his dodge wadna work, an' that he had ane to deal wi' that was as quick-witted as himsel'. Sae he bethinks him o'a far better plan to gain time, while the laddie was rinnin' up to gi'e the alarm ; an' dad ! but I mony time lauch as I look at the Aikwood haughs an' the wide bends o' the water, an' think on't. 

     "Is Oakwood far from here, by the nearest road ? " asked the officer. " The nearest road, " replied ma granfaither. " is the bit fit track alang the face o' the rocky, steep bank. It's never used for horses syne the laird's Arab naig fell ower an' broke it's neck. The common road is up the level haugh. But gin ye like to risk it, I wull licht ina lamp, an' gang afore ye, whichever way ye please, sir. The watergate road is the safest ; but I couldna gang the other ane on sic a dark nicht withoot some licht. ” "No licht," quoth he, " but lead on at once by the best road ; we have no time to lose. 

     " Noo, ma granfaither led them up on the water sands at times, syne on the haugh border, roond every bend o' the water, till the gleg officer began to hae some suspicions ; for says he-" Anderson , this seems a strange road for horseback ! " Weel, sir, it's the best we hae. See ! there is the tower agin the sky on the left ; but atween huz an' it there is a deep moat filled wi' water frae the burn that rins doon by the tower wa's, an' we canna gang strecht across. We maun ford the burn where it rins into Ettrick, an' then the road gaes strecht up. " This satisfied the officer, for of coorse they were a' utter strangers, an' couldna judge otherwise in a dark nicht ; had it been licht, they wad hae seen the absurdity o' it. But the great object was to gain time.

     When the ' prentice was fairly oot o' the window an' on to the water sands, he had the sense to ken that , dark as it was, he wad be seen in his white sark, if he gaed up on the haugh, the sodgers being on the road, an' there was at least a chance o' being seen some o' them. Sae he had to grape his steps below the brae-hag till he was a gey bit up, an' then he got on to the sward, an' flew at a great speed till he reached the tower door. There a' was dark an' the door barred. The callant yelled, an' thundered wi' a stane at the door ; but there was nae reply. Ye see, the wund was very high, an' they were a' bedded excep' the watchman on the tap, in the little corner turret ; an' likely eneuch it was auld Dalgliesh, who was beginnin' to be raither dull o' hearing. There was thus a guid deal o' vailable time lost, the young chield doing his vera utmost to gar them hear. 

     Ma granfaither had contrived to waste a deal o ' time gaun roond sic a stretch o' haugh ; but noo, wi' the castle towering on the bank aboon them, an' a gude road afore them, that game couldna be played ony langer. Sae the sodgers rade sharp up till they were on the level, an' then they dismounted, an' the officer planted them silently a' roond the tower, wi' a mounted ane at the back. Then he strak a licht, an' lichted a pocket lamp, an' cam' to ma granfaither an' pat twae nobles into his hand, an' tauld him that he was noo free to gae hame. The auld man was blythe to hear that, for he had begun to hae some misgivings in his ain mind aboot his share in the nicht's wark bein' fand oot. He was confident in his ain mind that the laird had had plenty o' time to escape ; but he saw, at the same time, by his weel-pleased manner and the deliberate way he gude aboot his plans, that the officer was equally confident that at last he had the bird trapped. Sae ma granfaither slade away on the bank heid a wee bit to the east, an' stood ahint ane o' thae auld trees, to see the upshot, an' as to whilk o' them had won the game. He had never had leisure or licht to ken hoo mony there were o ' the black horse men ; but noo, wi' the glimmer o' the officer's lamp, he made them oot to be twenty men. 

     Weel, the officer had to thunder twice at the door afore there was ony reply ; in fact, they were beginnin' to plant a petard at the strong door, when there was the glimmer o' Dalgliesh's lamp at the loop-hole ; an' next minute was heard his gruff voice demandin' " who they were, an' what they wanted at this time o' nicht, disturbin' decent folk ? "  

     "Open in two minutes, in his Majesty's name," shouted the officer, " otherwise I will blow your door in ! " 

     "Five minutes' grace to open bolts an' bars is the common law," growled the voice within ; " but I sall be as quick as I can-sae dinna burst it. " 

     Weel, ye may be sure ma granfaither's curiosity had been very great, for he stude there for near half an hour, to see the upshot. When at last the troopers cam oot, there was nae Harden wi' them. 

     Ma granfaither, of coorse, learnt after that the ' prentice callant, at the lang an' the length, had managed to get haud o' an auld stainchel at a window, an' made them hear him at last. The first ane to hear was Harden himsel' . He cam' quick doon the stair, wi' a cruisy licht, to that bit window bole aboon the door, and asked what the fray was. There was little need o' mony words when the laird saw the lad's plight, an' heard hoo muckle time had been lost already ; sae in five minutes mair he was in the saddle, an ' away up Huntly Hill. Ma granfaither used to say after, that him an' the sodgers wad at that moment be within 500 yards o' the tower, or near the present public road. Sae, when he saw the sodgers come oot o' the tower, he chuckled a gude ane—“ Weel dune, John Anderson ! Ha ! ha ! Insteed o' gaun hame the nicht, where, like eneuch, they wull kidnap ye i' the bygaun' , ye sall be treat till a tap o' brandy, an' drink a bumper to Harden's weelfare and yer ain wut. Ha ha !" 

     Harden had sae little time, when he left the tower, that he fled withoot a coat ; but he caredna for a trifle like that, kennin' that ance he gat the length o' Wool, where his kinsman leeved, he wad ca' in an' get some claes to disguise himsel'. Sae by the time he gat to the road that leads into Wool abune Ashkirk, the nicht was lichter an' mair lown ; and he had just slackened his speed, when a voice frae below a tree in the avenue salutes him—“ Ware to the rider on a moonless night ! I ask him to halt ! " "Who asks ?" “ A friend to Harden ; and I am here by your kinsman's orders, to warn you not to come nearer. Three dragoons are billeted in the house, a squad is up at Harden ; and they wait till they are joined by a party from Oakwood with yourself in their company, when they will move back to Edinburgh. Take my hat and coat and push on till you get down the Tyne ; put the Borders between you ere you draw bridle. " Sae, ye see, the laird was very near like being " oot o' the fryin' pan into the fire." 

     The plans for his capture had been cleverly contrived ; for it seems they had been surely informed o' his bein' at Aikwood Tower, an' if by any possibility he escaped them there, that he wad naturally flee aither to Harden or Wool. 

     The laird gat safe to Newcastle , an' was in secure concealment there amang freens for hale three weeks ; an' he must hae been weel disguised, for he tauld afterwards that he was oot on the thoroughfares maist every day, hearin' the news an' watchin' the foreign-bound ships, in order to get a passage oot o' the country. At last a Dutch ship cam' up the Tyne, an' anchored off the quay. The laird professed to be ane o' the purchasers o' some pairt o' her cargo. When this ship was to sail, Harden an' the captain had arranged that he was to sail wi' him. Sae there was a crowd o' folk on the quay when the ship was gaun to sail, for it was Newcastle market-day. A plank was laid frae the quay on to the ship, and Harden had been gaun aboot the deck, at the stern o' the ship, in view o' the loungers stannin' roond. 

     Noo, Harden had land baith in Tynedale an' Reedwater ; an' amang his tenants there was ane, a half-wut, that drave doon peats in panniers on horses' backs (an' very often a keg o' whusky that hadna paid duty), an' brocht up the creels filled wi' Newcastle coals. Sae this man was amang the crowd on the quay. Suddenly he gave a roar, an' sprang across the gangway on to the ship, an' claspit the laird roond the neck an' blubbered -“ Aich ! ma bonny Laird o' Harden ! an' ye wad hide yersel' that gate frae me ! " Wi' that ane o' the Government spies who were hangin' aboot amang the crowd, dressed as ministers, merchants, and seafarin' folk, laid his hand on the laird's shouther, an' took him prisoner in the King's name. 

     Harden's trial took place in London shortly after. He was ane o' them that had been decided on by the Government to lose his heid ; an' , had he been tried only some months before, he wad hae baith lost his heid an' had his estates confiscated ; an' even as it was, be barely saved his heid an' his lands through weighty influence in high quarters, an' had his punishment commuted into a fine o' sixty thousand pounds. Sae Harden had to sell or take bonds at that time on a great deal o' his lands ; an' Howford, Helmburn, Baillielee , an' the grund we are sittin' on, passed oot o' his hands.

References

“The Laird of Harden’s Escape from Oakwood: a Tale of the ‘45, as related by John Anderson, blacksmith, Ettrick Bridge” in (The Border Counties’ Magazine v. 1 pp. 91-95, v. 2 pp. 109-112) (1880-81).