(A view from Cairn Law cc-by-sa/2.0 – © James T M Towill – geograph.org.uk/p/6714041)
The valley of Talla is today one of the wildest corners of the Southern Uplands. It’s a steep-edged place, rockier by far than most of the region, and cradled between some of its highest hills. In recent years it has grown wilder yet, with the Borders Forest Trust taking control of the Talla & Gameshope property on the valley’s southern side. A programme of habitat restoration is now under way, seeing trees rise again in a place from which they have long been absent; and one of the finest corners of the old Ettrick Forest is returning once more to woodland.
The ghosts of the old trees are not the only ones that haunt this valley, however. A singular character was laid to rest here, whose tale connects to one of the most famous and controversial murders of Scottish history. His ghost has quite a tale to tell; his name was John Hay of Talla.
In the 15th and 16th centuries, a fortified residence was raised in the valley at a place called Tallasheels – one of the peel towers or fortalices characteristic of the Reiver clans. A branch of the Hay family came to occupy it, and for five generations their line made of this wilderness a home. Misfortune was, however, to intervene – John Hay was to be the last of this line.
John was the sixth laird of Talla. He left the hills for Edinburgh, seeking the riches and excitement the city had to offer. He arrived during the reign of Mary Queen of Scots – a turbulent time, riven by factions and jealousies that claimed a great many lives. He fell in with his cousin, the Earl of Bothwell, whose close associate he became. Bothwell was one of the main actors in the dramas of the age; he was to become the third husband of Mary Queen of Scots, and was implicated in the murder of her second, the Lord Darnley.
His entanglement with Bothwell saw John Hay become entangled in this murder – and it was this that was to prove his undoing. Darnley and Queen Mary had swiftly become estranged, the consequence of his drinking and violent temper, and Darnley had done little to improve matters by stabbing the Queen’s secretary and lover, Rizzio, to death. In February 1567, someone returned the favour – and the Lord Darnley departed the world in a spectacular fashion. He had returned to Edinburgh, and was staying in a lodging at the church called Kirk O’Field close to Holyrood. During the night, an explosion rocked the building; someone had placed two full barrels of gunpowder just below Darnley’s chamber, and detonated them. It appears Darnley may have survived the explosion, however – his body was found outside in the orchard, apparently having been smothered to death.
Following the murder, the Earl of Bothwell swiftly married Mary – and was swiftly accused of conspiring to kill Darnley. A power struggle ensued. By June Mary was in captivity, and Bothwell had sailed for safety in Norway. His allies were not so lucky, however. John Hay was one of the principal allies accused, and was subjected to torture severe even for that brutal age. He maintained his innocence and his defiance until the end, however, even in the face of the utmost brutality. In December he was hung, drawn and quartered.
John Hay’s testimony is preserved in trial records from the time, and plays a key part in the final acts of Mary’s dramatic reign. As a Border tale, it was given a new lease of life in the 19th century by the Peebles writer John Veitch – a prolific author and poet who fashioned his own versions of regional tales. He sourced his material from his own researches on regional folklore, and from stories passed down to him by his mother, a lady of considerable accomplishment in her own right and preserver of many a tradition. He crafted the tale of John Hay into ballad form, in imitation of the Border Ballads of earlier years – and a fine version it was. I have lightly retouched it for the modern reader, replacing certain archaic terms that are no longer easy to understand. The original is available in the collection “Hillside Rhymes”, published in 1872 by James Maclehose for the University of Glasgow.
Young Hay of Talla
Wild your cradle glen,
Young Hay of Talla,
Stern the wind’s wild roar,
Round the old peel tower,
Young Hay of Talla.
Winter night raving,
Young Hay of Talla,
Snow-drifts rising,
Loud the falls roaring,
Young Hay of Talla.
Forever heard it rush,
Young Hay of Talla,
As it swelled and burst,
Fierce his soul was nursed,
Young Hay of Talla.
Winterhope’s wild hags,
Young Hay of Talla,
Gameshope dark foaming,
There ever roaming,
Young Hay of Talla.
Hating the soft evening,
Young Hay of Talla,
In the deep moonlight,
Finding no delight,
Young Hay of Talla.
Watched keen the hill-fire,
Young Hay of Talla,
Soul leapt as wild light,
Flashed in the gloom of night,
Young Hay of Talla.
A sweetheart betrayed,
Young Hay of Talla,
Love’s trust cast aside,
Made of her no bride,
Young Hay of Talla.
Mary has come and gone,
Young Hay of Talla,
Back to marriage ball,
Is God over all,
Young Hay of Talla?
And you are here, you,
Young Hay of Talla,
God’s heaven above you,
Future before you,
Young Hay of Talla.
Have you made your choice,
Young Hay of Talla?
Turned from Heaven’s gate,
Taken the Fiend’s fate,
Young Hay of Talla?
Night round Kirk 0’Field,
Young Hay of Talla,
Light faint in the room,
Darnley sleeps in gloom,
Young Hay of Talla.
Ah! The young form moves,
Young Hay of Talla,
Hold him firm, hold him grim,
Till quivers not one limb,
Young Hay of Talla.
Now the dread deed’s done,
Young Hay of Talla,
Throw the corpse over the wall,
Give it dead dog’s fall,
Young Hay of Talla.
High before heaven,
Young Hay of Talla,
Standing this winter morn,
Ah, how sore forlorn!
Young Hay of Talla.
Reaping a life’s fruit,
Young Hay of Talla,
Wins no man’s pity,
Your life’s lost to the city,
Young Hay of Talla.
Begged the dishonoured dead,
Young Hay of Talla,
She you made no bride,
Laid you by Talla-side,
Young Hay of Talla.
The tale follows the trajectory of many a Border lairdling’s life. Giving up the possibility of a quiet life in the hills for the excitement of the city – then coming to find that such excitement comes with a high price-tag. For all that they are wild, the Border hills were often found to be a safer place than the intrigue-ridden courts of kings.
What the ghost of John Hay of Talla would have to say on this matter we may conjecture from the testimony he left behind. After six months of torture he still defied his accusers – and if his ghost still walks the banks of Talla, where his body was laid to rest, it is likely that it whispers its quiet accusations against the Queen. Perhaps…
© William Young and Inter-Celtic, 2023, except where otherwise stated. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to William Young and Inter-Celtic with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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