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Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013564277 
 
NORTH COUNTRY 
 BALLADS. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY TODD. 
 
 London : 
 HORACE COX, 
 
 WINDSOR HOUSE, BREAm'S BUILDINGS, CHANCERY LANE, E.C. 
 1895- 
 
LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY HORACE COX, WINDSOR HOUSE, BREAM's BUILDINGS, E.G. 
 
COHTKKTS. 
 
 An English Thermopyte i 
 
 Heavenfield ........ 8 
 
 Young Roland ... . . 14 
 
 Bellister .18 
 
 Neville's Cross 25 
 
 The Mosstroopers . . . ■ 29 
 
 The Plague Ship . . ."^ . . 32 
 
 Skollo the Dane 37 
 
NORTH CCUITRY BALLADS. 
 
 AN ENGLISH THERMOPYL^. 
 
 Now the summer day is done, 
 
 Now sinks the summer sun 
 To his rest behind Helvellyn's bulwark steep : 
 
 Strikes the ruddy glory now 
 
 On Placefell's lofty brow, 
 And across the dale the twilight shadows creep. 
 
 Now the scythe is laid aside, 
 Which the sturdy dalesman plied 
 
 In the meadows by the Goldrill's water clear : 
 Now the haymaking is done, 
 And the crop is housed and won ; 
 
 All is over, save the laughter and the cheer. 
 
 B 
 
NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Now to the Joyful Tree 
 
 Comes a goodly company, 
 Intent to dance a merry night away. 
 
 Each one laughs as he perceives 
 
 In his perch amid the leaves 
 The fiddler making music loud and gay. 
 
 For a while all prospers well ; 
 
 Then, as though by sudden spell. 
 Breaks the music in the middle of the air ; 
 
 Cease the dancers' merry feet 
 
 On the grassy sward to beat. 
 And the song becomes a wailing of despair : 
 
 For with breathless terror pale 
 
 Comes a man of Matterdale, 
 And his tidings turn the festival to fear : 
 " There are border thieves at hand, 
 
 Scottish foes are in the land. 
 And, ere the night be done, will they be here. 
 
 Round by Carrock foot they came, 
 Left Mungrisedale all aflame, 
 By Troutbeck side no single soul survives ; 
 
AN ENGLISH THERMOPYL^. 3 
 
 All the Dockray folk are fled 
 To the coves of Deepdale Head : 
 Fly ye also, and ye yet may save your lives." 
 
 Out spake William Mounsey then, 
 " We be thirty stalwart mei) ; 
 Shame upon us, if our homes we thus forsake ! 
 
 Let the bairns and women fly, 
 
 While we thirty win or die 
 In the narrow path betwixt the crag and lake." 
 
 And the men with one accord 
 Brought the bow and spear and sword. 
 
 And the women kissed them and refused to fly ; 
 " Nay," they murmured, " let us stay : 
 Do you fight, and we will pray : 
 
 God will help us : if you live not, we will die." 
 
 So they came unto the place, 
 
 Down by Stybarrow's rocky base. 
 Where fronts the crag the lake's sheer-dipping edge; 
 
 On one hand the waters deep. 
 
 And on one the rugged steep. 
 And between them but a yard or two of ledge. 
 
NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Then the valiant Mounsey spake, 
 
 As they waited by the lake, 
 " Here we meet them; they are many we are few 
 
 Yet be ye not afraid ; 
 
 God will surely grant us aid ; 
 They are robbers, we are honest men and true." 
 
 And they answered, " Here we stand 
 
 For our homes and native land. 
 And here, if duty bid us, do we die ; 
 
 Yet we trow the Scotch shall feel 
 
 The full burden of our steel 
 Right sorely, ere a man of them go by." 
 
 Came a rumbling sound and low, 
 
 That betrayed the coming foe. 
 And they braced themselves for battle hand to hand 
 
 And along the narrow track, 
 
 With two hundred at his back, 
 At a canter came the leader of the band. 
 
 Aye, he came, but swift and true 
 Sped the shaft that pierced him through ; 
 Down he fell, and lay there writhing like a snake r 
 
AN ENGLISH THERMOPYLM. 
 
 Reared the steed in dire affright, 
 Reared, and backed into the night. 
 And thrust the next that followed in the lake. 
 
 And a loud and joyful shout 
 From the Englishmen broke out : 
 
 For a moment stayed the foe, as if in fear ; 
 Then they charged upon the sound, 
 But the dalesmen held their ground. 
 
 And stoutly plied the arrow and the spear. 
 
 Then each riever backed his horse, 
 
 For the ledge's narrow course 
 Did space for but a single steed afford ; 
 
 Yet many a one fell dead. 
 
 For the arrows truly sped. 
 And truly thrust the spear and smote the sword. 
 
 Then on foot along the track 
 
 Came they wildly pouring back. 
 With shock of onset terrible and hard : 
 
 But Mounsey in the front 
 
 Bore the battle's fiercest brunt, 
 Nor ever could they drive him back a yard. 
 
NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Raged the fight with fury mad ; 
 
 But the dalesmen's hearts grew sad ; 
 "The task is all too heavy : we must die." 
 
 " Up ! " they cried, " let every man 
 
 Fight on, while yet he can ; 
 And we all must perish, ere we let them by." 
 
 Stole three shepherds from the rear. 
 
 Laid aside the sword and spear. 
 And scaled the crag, as flushed the dawning light ; 
 
 And thence they plied the bow 
 
 On the terror-stricken foe, 
 And hurled the rocks upon them from the height. 
 
 Down the Scotchmen went like grass 
 
 In that fatal narrow pass, 
 And the remnant turned about, and sought to fly. 
 
 Then cried Mounsey, " Up ! they break ! 
 
 Up ! and drive them in the lake ! 
 For the Lord hath bid us live : we shall not die !" 
 
 What a slaughter then befell ! 
 'Twere a ghastly tale to tell 
 How many did the steel, the water, slay ; 
 
AN ENGLISH THERMOPYLM. 7 
 
 How few they were that fled, 
 Scarce better they than dead, 
 For the country side was up, and it was day. 
 
 So ceased at length the fight. 
 
 So ended that dread night : 
 The stout arm drooped, and ached the bleeding head; 
 
 And with weary limbs sore spent 
 
 Slowly home the dalesmen went, 
 But twenty — ^for the rest were lying dead. 
 
 And with wild and mingled shout 
 
 Came their wives and children out. 
 And at the sight they felt their courage break : 
 
 Many sobbed in glad relief. 
 
 Many wept with bitter grief 
 For the ten that lay all silent by the lake. 
 
 And while Helvellyn stands 
 
 Stretching forth his mighty hands 
 Down toward the flat green meadows of the vale, 
 
 While Stybarrow moveth not, 
 
 Be the story ne'er forgot 
 Of the fight that once was fought for Patterdale. 
 
HE A VENFIELD. 
 
 Unto the town of Hagustald there came a word of 
 fear, 
 " Cadwallon moveth northward, and his rage is as 
 the wind : 
 Saw we hail and homestead burning on the further 
 side of Wear, 
 Ere we turned to flight, and hitherward he follows 
 fast behind. 
 He hath slain King Eanfrith basely, though he 
 humbly craved for peace ; 
 And thegn and churl, and wife and child, he 
 thirsteth all to slay. 
 Who shall guide us in our trouble ? Shall the House 
 of Ida cease, 
 Of that great king who bore the flame that drove 
 his sires away ? " 
 
HE A VEN FIELD. 9 
 
 And from the little city went there up a bitter cry, 
 " Odin heedeth us no longer, to the gods we pray 
 in vain. 
 Who can stand against this wizard ? Gather up your 
 goods and fly 
 To the northward, to the northward, till he turn 
 him back again." 
 So they rose and fled to northward — O the horror of 
 that flight, 
 The weariness, the hunger, and the ever-spurring 
 fear ! — 
 Till they reached the heights of Heavenfield, and 
 rested for the night, 
 And took counsel all together, for the foe drew 
 yet more near. 
 
 And half the night they wrangled, nor could one 
 advise aright ; 
 " Who shall lead us .? " 'Twas a riddle, and the 
 answer none could tell ; 
 Till from the murky background came beneath the 
 torches' light 
 A noble youth, and on the throng a sudden silence 
 fell. 
 
10 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 "Ask ye still what man shall lead you? Will ye 
 still to folly cling ? 
 Shall he find you thus divided ? Well ye know 
 what Cometh then, 
 r am Oswald, son of Aethelfrith. Behold, lam yourking J 
 Behold, I am your leader ! Rise, and quit your- 
 selves like men ! " 
 
 Then spake one, "Thou art a Christian." But the 
 youth upon him turned : 
 "Where, then, are Thor and Odin gone in this 
 your hour of need ? 
 Are your kinsmen yet unslaughtered ? Are your 
 homesteads yet unburned ? 
 Would they have let their temples fall, if they were 
 gods indeed .' 
 Ye 'shall leave these useless idols : ye shall seek the 
 only One, 
 The only God that liveth, and Him only shall ye 
 trust : 
 His breath shall smite Cadwallon's host, and, ere a 
 day be done, 
 We shall drive our foes before us, as the wind 
 whirls up the dust. 
 
HEAVENFIELD. ii 
 
 This night I lay in slumber, and a glorious dream I 
 dreamed. 
 The holy Saint Columba saw I standing by my side ; 
 And with his flowing mantle to enfold our folk he 
 seemed. 
 And the glory of his presence lit the darkness far 
 and wide. 
 ' God loves,' said he, ' this people, and if they to Him 
 will turil. 
 Though dark and drear the prospect, they shall 
 fight and conquer yet. 
 Cadwallon's headless body shall the meanest of you 
 spurn, 
 And his power and pride be humbled, ere another 
 sun be set.' 
 
 Then hearken and take courage. Shall the work our 
 fathers wrought 
 Be shattered by a Welshman.? Be ye English, 
 stout and true ! 
 God hath not given this country to the English race 
 for nought. 
 And by your hands some goodly work He purposeth 
 to do." 
 
12 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 He spake, and from the gathered throng arose a 
 joyful cry, 
 " Lead on, lead on to battle ! See, already dawns 
 the light. 
 Lead on, lead on to battle ! We will conquer or will die. 
 Thy God shall be our God, if He will aid us in the 
 fight." 
 
 Then spake Oswald to his captains, " Raise we here 
 
 upon this mound 
 The Cross, in token of the faith that shall be yours 
 
 to-day.'' 
 And soon a lofty cross of wood was planted in the 
 
 ground, 
 And at its foot the monarch knelt, and bowed his 
 
 head to pray. 
 He knelt and prayed in silence, and at once with one 
 
 accord 
 The stern rough heathen warriors knelt humbly 
 
 round about, 
 In silence sending forth their first petition to the 
 
 Lord, 
 Then rose and formed their ranks for war, and 
 
 marched in silence out. 
 
HEAVENFIELD. 13 
 
 What need is there to tell at length the story of the 
 fight- 
 How the Welshmen broke and scattered as theleaves 
 before the wind, 
 How Cadwallon fought with fury and then swiftly 
 turned to flight, 
 How the sturdy Enghsh warriors were swifter still 
 behind ; 
 How came there full accomplishment of Oswald's 
 wondrous dream, 
 How many miles they followed, ere to bay they 
 made him turn. 
 How in his last despair he stood and fought beside 
 the stream. 
 How they left him lying headless by the side of 
 Deniseburn ? 
 
YOUNG ROLAND. 
 
 The Scotchmen came over the Border, 
 
 To harry Northumberland's coast : 
 We fought, and fell back in disorder ; 
 
 Can a handful contend with a host ? 
 And Fenham's lone tower was forsaken, 
 
 When darkest the hour of its need ; 
 And it fell, and young Roland was taken. 
 
 And carried away o'er the Tweed. 
 
 Young Roland was gentle and handsome ; 
 
 In war he could rival the best : 
 Yet came there no tidings of ransom, 
 
 For his father was poor and distressed. 
 So he tarried, a captive and lonely. 
 
 Like an eagle that pines to be free ; 
 And he thought of Northumberland only. 
 
 And the little grey tower by the sea. 
 
YOUNG ROLAND. 15 
 
 To escape not his honour was plighted ; 
 
 He was free from the dungeon and chain : 
 As a wanderer untimely benighted, 
 
 Now despairing, now hoping again, 
 Even so, with a heart sorrow-laden. 
 
 Through the castle he aimlessly moved. 
 Till it chanced that a fair Scottish maiden 
 
 Beheld him, and pitied, and loved. 
 
 Now Margaret was perfect in feature. 
 
 And as good and as noble as fair ; 
 As though 'twere some Heavenly creature. 
 
 She saved him from utter despair : 
 Her voice and her presence entrancing 
 
 Soothed gently the tear and the groan, 
 ■ Till love's light from her eyes ever glancing 
 
 Had kindled love's light in his own. 
 
 .Said the maiden, " My father is wealthy, 
 His lands, they are spacious and fair : 
 
 ■;Our love shall no longer be stealthy ; 
 
 He shall make thee his child and his heir. 
 
i6 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 In Scotland be ever thy dwelling ; 
 
 From her win thou honour and praise : 
 And bliss that is past all excelling 
 
 Shall be ours for the rest of our days." 
 
 " Though I love thee," heanswered, " with passion,, 
 
 Though fondly I yearn for thy hand, 
 Yet may I not win in this fashion. 
 
 Nor barter my own native land — 
 Though on thee, my dear love, on thee only 
 
 My heart is eternally set, 
 There's a dwelling, half ruined and lonely,. 
 
 That I may not, I cannot forget. 
 
 Though bitter the pang that must sever 
 
 My heart, O my darling, from thee, 
 Yet English my soul hath been ever. 
 
 And English it ever shall be. 
 Alas ! my dear love, can I press thee 
 
 To that which myself I refuse .? 
 I pray God to guard thee and bless thee,. 
 
 For 'tis bitter to love and to lose." 
 
YOUNG ROLAND. 
 
 So they parted in sorrow and yearning : 
 
 He was freed ; but O ! sore was his pain — 
 Yet time saw the lover returning 
 
 To the home of his darling again. 
 " By darkness no more we are parted : 
 
 King James now two sceptres doth sway." 
 And on maiden and youth loyal hearted 
 
 Came at last the fair dawning of day. 
 
BELLISTER. 
 
 " Come hither, lady bright, 
 
 Come hither, squire and knight, 
 Come hither all, of high or low degree : 
 
 Here is feasting in the hall. 
 
 Here is wine and cheer for all, 
 Here is light and laughter, mirth and minstrelsy.' 
 
 Shone the torches' ample glare 
 
 O'er the noble and the fair. 
 O'er the warlike, o'er the winsome and the gay. 
 
 Gathered there was Tynedale's flower. 
 
 All its beauty, worth, and power. 
 Save one who stayed disdainfully away. 
 
 Spake the baron to the throng, 
 " Spare ye not the wine and song; 
 Let peace and laughter only reign to-night. 
 
BE LUSTER. 19 
 
 What though Thirlwall's sullen lord 
 Trusteth not my plighted word, 
 To-morrow shall he answer for the slight." 
 
 And he broke off with a jest ; 
 
 Yet his heart was not at rest : 
 " Is there no healing in the hand of time ? 
 
 Will he never cease to brood 
 
 On that cursed and fatal feud, 
 That our fathers raged and fought for in their prime ?" 
 
 Rang the hall with mirth and glee. 
 
 Swelled the flood of revelry : 
 Yet the wine was poured, the song was sung in vain. 
 
 For the baron sat apart. 
 
 Terror gnawing at his heart, 
 And dark suspicion coursing through his brain. 
 
 " What meaneth he .? 'Tis told 
 
 That he sitteth in his hold. 
 And worketh by the arts that none may tell ; 
 
 That he wieldeth not the sword, 
 
 For the devil is his lord. 
 And his minions are the messengers of hell, 
 c 2 
 
3 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS.. 
 
 No coward I, I trow ; 
 
 I can face a mortal foe ; 
 Never fled I from the Frenchman or the Scot : 
 
 Yet the bravest cannot stand 
 
 'Gainst the fell and hidden hand 
 That smiteth when the victim seeth not." 
 
 And the feasters in dismay 
 
 Strove to drive his care away : 
 " Drink, drink, my lord, and be no more depressed [ 
 
 Come, come, ye minstrels all. 
 
 Sing, as David sang to Saul : 
 There is gold and wine for him that singeth best." 
 
 Sang they loud of war's alarms, 
 
 Sang they softly ladies' charms, 
 Sang stirring ballad, merry roundelay. 
 
 But still he sat and frowned, 
 
 Nor seemed to hear a sound. 
 Till there came an old man clad in sober grey. 
 
 He sang, and at the strain 
 Rolled the long years back again ; 
 The baron heard — his doubts and fears were gone — 
 
BELLISTER. 
 
 Saw again that glorious fight, 
 When, a young and maiden knight, 
 He won his earhest fame at Halidon. 
 
 Up he rose and loudly cried, 
 
 " Stand thou only by my side : 
 Thou art the thrush ; the rest are chattering jays. 
 
 Want no more shall make thee pine, 
 
 Gold and raiment shall be thine, 
 And gladness cheer the evening of thy days." 
 
 Quoth the minstrel, "I am old. 
 
 Hungry, travel-worn, and cold : 
 I ask no meed, but only food and rest. 
 
 For thy words I thank thee well. 
 
 But to-night I cannot tell — - 
 Till the morrow I would think on thy behest." 
 
 So they parted ; and anon 
 The baron's gloomy fit came on. 
 
 His name and race the harper ne'er had told. 
 And he asked in dire suspense 
 Who the singer was, and whence, 
 
 That sang so sweetly and that loved not gold. 
 
22 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Then a thought flashed through his mind, 
 
 " O a fool am I and blind : 
 This is some traitor spying for my foe : 
 
 That song, though sweet its note, 
 
 Issued from no honest throat. 
 Even now he worketh secretly my woe." 
 
 " Spy ! " — so his brooding ran — 
 
 " If he be not worse than man, 
 By hellish art embodied for the task. 
 
 Some dark, foul deed I fear : 
 
 Go ye, bring the minstrel here ; 
 Ere he slumber, there are questions I would ask.' 
 
 Forth they went the man to seek, 
 
 Back they came with pallid cheek ; 
 " My lord, the man is gone, and none can tell 
 
 How he vanished from the place." 
 
 Livid grew the baron's face, 
 For fear bites deeper than a wizard's spell. 
 
 " Seek the wretch, or all is lost ! 
 Seek him out, nor count the cost. 
 And what the finder asketh, I will give. 
 
BELLISTER. 23 
 
 Loose the bloodhounds on his track ! 
 Ye must find and drag him back, 
 Ye must seize him, if a man of you would live ! " 
 
 Forth the cruel hounds have sprung : 
 
 Now they whimper, and give tongue. 
 Now, nose to earth, are tearing up the hill : 
 
 Now a shriek rings through the air. 
 
 Shriek of cursing and despair, 
 Rings out, and dies, and all again is still. 
 
 To their lord they bore the tale ; 
 
 But ah ! what can avail 
 To save the mind from horror's guilty pangs ? 
 
 Well for him if he had died 
 
 By the murdered harper's side. 
 Torn asunder by the bloodhounds' gory fangs. 
 
 For never from that day 
 
 Did the spectre pass away. 
 The awful dim grey shadow of the dead : 
 
 Did he hide or strive to fly, 
 
 Yet the ghastly thing was nigh. 
 Ever watching by his board and by his bed. 
 
24 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Stands the castle old and grey, 
 
 Slowly mouldering away, 
 Where Tyne turns eastward, making for the sea. 
 
 Empty is the baron's place. 
 
 Lost his name, and dead his race, 
 And half-forgotten e'en his memory. 
 
 Yet still there comes, 'tis said, 
 
 The grey presence of the dead 
 To the castle, when the storm is rising high ; 
 
 Still are heard those fearful sounds. 
 
 The deep baying of the hounds, 
 The dying curse, the wild despairing cry. 
 
NEVILLE'S CROSS. 
 
 [The monks of Durham are said to have watched the battle 
 of Neville's Cross from the Cathedral Towers.] 
 
 Great St. Cuthbert, wake, arise ! 
 
 For thy foes are in the land. 
 
 Wake, and raise thy mighty hand, 
 And they scattered are as flies. 
 Unto thee Hft we our eyes : 
 
 Do thou as our champion stand. 
 
 Wasted sore with steel and fire 
 
 Lies the land beyond the Tyne. 
 Now they threaten what is thine : 
 
 Ruined lies full many a spire. 
 
 Wake, O Saint, and show thine ire ! 
 Will they spare thy sacred shrine ? 
 
26 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Help us ; for, behold, the stain 
 Of their rage and gluttony, 
 Pillage and brutality. 
 
 Sore afHicts thy fair demesne. 
 
 Daily are thy servants slain. 
 
 Shall they scorn a saint like thee .? 
 
 See, we pray with lifted hands 
 
 On thine Abbey's lofty heights. 
 Monk must pray while warrior fights. 
 Guard the valour of our bands, 
 Guard and edge their trusty brands. 
 Smite thou these Amalekites ! 
 
 See thy banner waving high ! 
 
 Ah ! thou takest now our part. 
 
 May it nerve each English heart 
 Bravely to endure and die. 
 Bravely fight, and scorn to fly. 
 
 Show thyself the saint thou art ! 
 
 Come thou near, lest prayer should be 
 Lost amid the battle's din. 
 Lord, remember not his sin 
 
NEVILLE'S CROSS. 27 
 
 Who shall die this day for Thee, 
 May he pass all blissfully 
 
 To the crown Thy servants win. 
 
 See where Neville's charger foams ! 
 
 See where Percy's gallant band 
 
 Battle for their wasted land, 
 Strike to gain their ruined homes 1 
 Not the armies that were Rome's 
 
 Ever made a braver stand. 
 
 See, we break, we pierce the foe ! 
 
 See, in flight they turn the steed. 
 
 Thou art with us now indeed ; 
 Now we of a surety know 
 Thou about our path dost go. 
 
 Thou dost help us in our need. 
 
 Holy Cuthbert ! Haste must we^ 
 Haste to fall before thy shrine. 
 Quickly shall thine altars shine 
 
 With the gifts we owe to thee. 
 
 Soon shall all our harmony 
 
 Tell the praises that are thine. 
 
28 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Though too many a widow weeps, 
 
 Though the hills are red with gore, 
 Thou hast rescued us from more. 
 
 Snatched us from more awful deeps. 
 
 Not the nobles in their keeps, 
 'Tis the poor thou carest for. 
 
 Guard thou then thy people well : 
 Be our refuge and our ark. 
 Thou hast saved us from the dark. 
 
 Long shall high and lowly tell 
 ' How the foe before thee fell. 
 
 That would spoil thy Haliwark. 
 
THE MOSSTROOPERS. 
 
 To Bardon Tower eight rievers came 
 
 From Liddesdale with lance and shield 
 They set the homestead in a flame, 
 
 When all the men were out afield ; 
 And mined found we byre and bield : 
 
 ! but I warrant we were mad — 
 The thieves had fled o'er Barcom Head, 
 
 And lifted every beast we had. 
 
 The smouldering flames were scarce put out,. 
 
 Ere neighbours' aid we sent to call ; 
 And soon there came an Armstrong stout, 
 
 And soon a Ridley strong and tall. 
 What though our band was still too small ? 
 
 We tracked the hoof-prints in the soil ; 
 " Though they be eight, we may not wait. 
 
 If we would e'er regain the spoil." 
 
30 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 But five were we that made the ride ; 
 
 The broad track showed the way they'd gone ; 
 From each hill crest the moor we eyed, 
 
 Ere to the next we galloped on. 
 The sun above us fiercely shone, 
 
 Like fire it made our harness burn. 
 But toil and sweat must needs be met, 
 
 And on we rode in silence stern. 
 
 And then at last we came in sight ; 
 
 They stopped as we were drawing nigh, 
 And six of them turned back to fight. 
 
 And two were left to drive the kye. 
 So for my earliest battle I 
 
 Couched lance, and gasped, and set my teeth ; 
 My stout spear bent, and down I went ; 
 
 Aye, but my foe was underneath. 
 
 I drew my sword : the warm blood gushed, 
 And he was lying there a corse : 
 
 And then another on me rushed. 
 Ere I had time to catch my horse. 
 
THE MOSSTROOPERS. 
 
 I thrust his spear aside, but force 
 Of steed and rider on me bore : 
 
 I aimed a stroke, my good sword broke, 
 I felt a blow, and knew no more. 
 
 I woke as though from sleep profound. 
 
 Half dazed with lying in the sun. 
 Seven corpses saw I on the ground, 
 
 Alas ! my brother's form was one. 
 And soon I found the fight was done ; 
 
 I looked along the mossy track. 
 And joyed to see my comrades three 
 
 Come driving all the cattle back. 
 
 To Bardon Tower came rievers eight ; 
 
 No more for raiding they'll be fain. 
 Upon the moors they met their fate, 
 
 Nor e'er saw Liddesdale again. 
 But woe is me for him that's slain ! 
 
 Not unavenged shall he have died. 
 Come sword and spear from far and near ! 
 
 We'll harry all the Scottish side. 
 
THE PLAGUE SHIP. 
 
 There sailed a ship from Barbary to rob the coasts of 
 Spain, 
 With ninety cut-throat Moors aboard, a bloody- 
 minded crew ; 
 And through the Straits went roving forth, and o'er 
 the open main 
 Long time they chased, and saclied, and burnt, they 
 ravished and they slew. 
 And oft a golden Argosy they met upon the wave, 
 And every time they left behind an empty, shattered 
 wreck ; 
 Till the hold was filled with goodly bales, and many a 
 Christian slave 
 Lay, and cursed, and sobbed, and prayed, and died,, 
 and rotted 'neath the deck. 
 
THE PLAGUE SHIP. 33 
 
 Yet they took one prize too many ; for one morning it 
 befell 
 That they spied a noble merchantman, that neither 
 fought nor fled : 
 And they found one man aboard her ; but the Plague 
 was there as well, 
 And, or ever they could slaughter him, he staggered 
 and was dead. 
 With a sound of mocking laughter on his shrivelled 
 lips he died ; 
 He knew that for their bloody deeds full soon would 
 vengeance fall : 
 And each pirate muttered " Kismet," as he scrambled 
 down the side. 
 Too late, too late ; the hand of fate had touched 
 and tainted all. 
 
 Then swiftly o'er the southern sky a lurid cloud uprose. 
 And swiftly rose the angry sea, and loud the tempest 
 roared. 
 Then turned that ship of Barbary that feared no 
 human foes. 
 And fled away to northward from the anger of the 
 Lord. 
 
34 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Many days to northward drave she, till her store of 
 food was spent, 
 With shifted cargo thumping, plunging madly by 
 the head ; 
 Nor ever did the foaming sea and raging wind relent. 
 Ere the plague brake out amongst them, and the 
 half of them were dead. 
 
 But the remnant still drave onward, and at last they 
 
 spied the land, 
 The fair green shores of England : then the captain 
 
 rose and spake, 
 " Come, grip once more the tiller ; steer, and beach 
 
 her on the sand : 
 Inshallah, we may save our lives, although the vessel 
 
 break." 
 Then steered they onward, where with lesser fury 
 
 raged the waves. 
 And waited, clinging helplessly, the crisis of the 
 
 wreck ; 
 And the captain bade them knock the hatches off,. 
 
 and free the slaves : 
 Yet from the crowded hold but one had strength to- 
 
 reach the deck. 
 
THE PLAGUE SHIP. 35 
 
 And he, a stout young English lad, looked up and 
 saw the coast. 
 And joy there fell upon him, spite of hunger, thirst, 
 and pain ; 
 For he knew the swelling uplands of the land he 
 loved the most, 
 And marked the very village, where his sweetheart 
 dwelt, again. 
 'Twas but a single glance, for swiftly came the 
 moment dread. 
 And rose a shriek of horror as the vessel struck the sand ; 
 And the wild waves lashed the bodies of the dying 
 and the dead. 
 And all that could leapt overboard, and battled for 
 the land. 
 
 Forth came the kindly village folk to them that 'scaped 
 the sea, 
 And came the maids and children forth, to see what 
 might befall : 
 Then forward sprang that English lad, and shouted 
 warningly, 
 " Stand back ! stand back, and touch not; for the 
 plague is on us all." 
 
 D 2 
 
36 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 With thirst and hunger tortured, though he saw the 
 food they brought, 
 Though his father was among them, though his 
 sweetheart's face he spied. 
 Yet stood he forth unflinchingly, nor gave his fate a 
 thought, 
 And spake, and fell upon the sand, and with a sob 
 he died. 
 
 Back started all the villagers, and on the pirates 
 frowned ; 
 The maids and children shrieked and ran in terror 
 at the sight : 
 And the Moors stood waiting idly — all but ten the 
 sea had drowned — 
 Stood waiting mute and weaponless, could neither 
 speak nor fight. 
 Yet one maid there was that fled not : for awhile with 
 frenzied stare 
 She looked upon the lover she had loved so long 
 in vain ; 
 Then brake from friends and kinsfolk with a cry of 
 wild despair, 
 And as she fell upon his corpse. Heaven joined 
 their souls again. 
 
SKOLLO THE BANE. 
 
 Skollo the Dane was fierce and bold, 
 Fierce as a wolf, as an eagle keen ; 
 Skollo the Dane was grey and old. 
 
 Seventy summers and more had seen. 
 " Seventy summers I've seen," quoth he ; 
 " Fifty have found me upon the sea. 
 Fighting and harrying, east and west : 
 Shall not this summer be like the rest ? 
 
 Am I an ox, that I thus lie still ? 
 
 When did the wolf love the fold and stall ? 
 True, it is pleasant in winter's chill 
 
 To drink and to feast in the ancient hall. 
 Yet when the spring hath returned again. 
 Loosing the sea from its icy chain, 
 Cometh the smell of the salt sea foam. 
 And base is the churl that would bide at home. 
 
38 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS, 
 
 Spake the old wolf to his warriors stout, 
 (Feasting they sat in the ancient hall :) 
 
 " Oft have we met at the drinking bout : 
 Be this the deepest and last of all. 
 
 Drink ye, and feast ye, while lasts the night ; 
 
 Launch ye the ships with the morning's light. 
 
 Launch ye the ships, for the ocean calls 
 
 To a voyage that shall bring me to Odin's halls." 
 
 Over the sea doth the east wind moan ; 
 
 Many a billow hath raised its head : 
 Over the sea have the long ships flown, 
 
 Ringed with a bulwark of shields of red, 
 Sped like an arrow that flieth straight. 
 Arrow all heavy with death and fate. 
 Sped till the stout keels strike the sand. 
 Furrow the shores of Northumberland. 
 
 Now is there panic and flight and woe. 
 Now is there pillage of church and town ; 
 
 Now through the land do the Vikings go. 
 Smiting the priest by the altar down. 
 
SKOLLO THE DANE. 39 
 
 Slaughtering, sparing nor young nor old, 
 Torturing many to find their gold, 
 Slaying, and feasting, and slaying again : 
 Such were the doings of Skollo the Dane. 
 
 But, still unsated, old Skollo cried, 
 
 " Have the fell ravens in vain been fed ? 
 May I not die as my sires have died ? 
 Must I go home then to die in bed ? 
 Shall I ne'er answer to Odin's call. 
 Ne'er see the feast in Valhalla's hall ? 
 Nay, but the god craveth yet more blood. 
 And it shall flow in a deeper flood." 
 
 Then did his men unto Skollo speak, 
 
 " Weary are we of thy deeds of gore : 
 What honour cometh of slaying the weak ? 
 Wealth have we gotten in goodly store. 
 Surely this country is rich and thrives : 
 Here let us dwell, and get lands and wives. 
 If yet unslaked be thy thirst for gore. 
 Slake it thyself : we will slay no more." 
 
40 NORTH COUNTRY BALLADS. 
 
 Fiercely old Skollo his warriors eyed ; 
 
 Silent he stood for awhile, amazed ; 
 Thrice to give vent to his wrath he tried, 
 
 Thrice to his shoulder his axe he raised. 
 Then to the earth sunk the broad blade down. 
 Slowly relaxed the grim sea-wolf's frown. 
 And he heaved a sigh with a heart full sore, 
 He that had never heaved sigh before. 
 
 " Alas ! " quoth he, " ye are right, I trow ; 
 
 The many must win, though it grieve the one ; 
 The new must come, and the old must go ; 
 
 And the days and deeds that I loved are done. 
 Other are ye than the men I knew. 
 My warriors staunch, my comrades true. 
 I have lived too long ; I must voyage afar 
 To the place where the gods and the heroes are. 
 
 " Launch ye the Wolf: 'tis my last command. 
 
 Launch ye the Wolf, O ye hearts of stone ! 
 The night wind bloweth from off the land. 
 
 And I must follow its course alone. 
 
SKOLLO THE DANE. 41 
 
 Tarry ye here in sloth and ease ; 
 
 Mine be the voyage and the unknown seas. 
 
 Tarry ye here on a foreign shore. 
 
 For Skollo the Dane shall ye see no more." 
 
 The night wind bloweth from off the land ; 
 
 The ship is lost in the murky night : 
 The warriors linger upon the sand, 
 
 And strain their eyes for a parting sight : 
 And far on the sea, like a star that blinks 
 O'er the ocean's edge, ere to rest it sinks, 
 One fiery speck upon night's dark wing 
 Was the last they saw of the old sea king. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 5671.T243N8 
 
 North Country ballads. 
 
 3 1924 013 564 277