to lose
their whole substance, by an incursion of the English, on a sudden
breach of truce, they cared little to waste their time in cultivating
crops, to be reaped by their foes. Their cattle was, therefore,
their chief property; and these were nightly exposed to the southern
borderers, as rapacious and active as themselves. Hence, robbery
assumed the appearance of fair reprisal. The fatal privilege of
pursuing the marauders into their own country, for recovery of stolen
goods, led to continual skirmishes The warden also, himself frequently
the chieftain of a border horde, when redress was not instantly
granted by the opposite officer, for depredations sustained by his
district, was entitled to retaliate upon England by a warden raid.
In such cases, the moss-troopers, who crowded to his standard, found
themselves pursuing their craft under legal authority, and became the
favourites and followers of the military magistrate, whose duty it
was to have checked and suppressed them. See the curious history of
_Geordie Bourne, App. No. II_. Equally unable and unwilling to make
nice distinctions, they were not to be convinced, that what was to-day
fair booty, was to-morrow a subject of theft. National animosity
usually gave an additional stimulus to their rapacity; although it
must be owned, that their depredations extended also to the more
cultivated parts of their own country[33].
[Footnote 33: The armorial bearings, adopted by many of the border
tribes, shew how little they were ashamed of their trade of rapine.
Like _Falstaff_, they were "Gentlemen of the night, minions of
the moon," under whose countenance they committed their
depredations.--Hence, the emblematic moons and stars, so frequently
charged in the arms of border families. Their mottoes, also, bear
allusion to their profession.--"_Reparabit cornua Phaebe_," i.e.
"We'll have moon-light again," is that of the family of Harden. "Ye
shall want, ere I want," that of Cranstoun, &c.]
Satchells, who lived when the old border ideas of _meum_ and _tuum_
were still in some force, endeavours to draw a very nice distinction
betwixt a freebooter and a thief; and thus sings he of the Armstrongs:
On that border was the Armstrongs, able men;
Somewhat unruly, and very ill to tame.
I would have none think that I call them thieves,
For, if I did, it would be arrant lies.
Near a border frontier, in the time of war,
There's ne'er a man but he's a freebooter.
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