Moss troopers was a romantic name for Scottish brigands and bandits who
operated on the Borders after The Treaty of Edinburgh (July 1560). The
treaty called for the withdrawal of all English troops from Scotland, and
the elimination the French troops who had fought for Scotland. Private
cross-border raiding. The Border Reivers were alliances of families on
either side and sometimes both sides of the Border plundered each other in
circumstances of indescribable violence and brutality. They invented the
words 'blackmail' and 'rustling'.
There foul crimes was often condoned by the authorities on either side of
the Border. Moss troopers disappeared after the Union of the Crowns in 1603.
This stupid romanticism of the Border Ballads and some of the novels and
poems of Sir Walter Scott. Murder became Scots myths. These myths hid and
distorted the fear that people on both sides of the Border, robbery, rape,
fire and murder
The criminals called Moss Troopers plagued the Borders into the seventeenth
century.
Sinclair
Scott wrote the 'Moss Troopers Lament'
Oh! a' ye gallant Borders!
Ilk water, moss and fell,
To a' your weel kent nooks and crooks,
Forever, Oh! Farewell!
For we'll go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!
Oh when the Har'est moon shone
What blithe times did we see!
On wanton naigs, wi splent on spauld,
We rade sae merrilie!
But we'll go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!
Our King's gane o'er the Border
In London for to dwell;
And friends we maun wi' England be,
Sin' he reigns there himsel:
And go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!
O how shall I, tether'd,
On Yarrow banks abide!
That far as Trent and Humber
Hae scour'd the Southrons wide.
Oh! to go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!
And how shall I follow
A droning plough's tail,
And how now break my bonnie Brown
To harl't like a snail!
And go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!
But when the blithsome Borders
Hae lost their riders gay,
The Scots will miss their hardy men,
And cry, Alack the day!
That they go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
They go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O they'll go no more a roving!
----- Original Message -----
From: "Spirit One Email" <laurel@spiritone.com>
To: <sinclair@quarterman.org>
Sent: Saturday, November 10, 2001 7:48 PM
Subject: Moss Troopers
> Neil of Nova Scotia and myself wonder what "Moss Troopers" of Scotland
were?
> Laurel
>
>
[ Excess quotations omitted. ]
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