1 Class _SRjiJ±. Rnnic a r CopghtN?. K^% COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLADS EBITED BY FRANCIS JAMES CHILD EIGHT VOLUMES IN FOUR VOL. IV. BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLLN AND COMPANY (LCi uiueisiiie Press. GaiubitDge Copyright, 1858, bt little, brown & CO. Copyright. 1886, Bi FRANCIS JAMES CHILD. AU rights reserved. CONTENTS OF VOLUME lY. COMPRISING VOLS. VII. AND VIII. VOL. VII. BOOK Vn. (Continued.) Page t a. The Battle of Otterbourne [Percy] 3 4 b. The Battle of Otterbourne [Scott] 19 5 a. The Hunting of the Cheviot 25 5 b. Chevy-Chace 43 6. Sir Andrew Barton 55 7. Flodden Field 71 8 a. Queen Jeanie 74 8 b. The Death of Queen Jane 77 9. The ]\Iurder of the King of Scots 78 10. The Rising in the North 82 11. Northumberland betrayed by Douglas 92 12. King of Scots and Andrew Browne 108 13. Mary Arabree 108 14. Brave Lord Willoughbey 114 15 a. The Bonny Earl of Murray [Ramsay] 119 15 b. The Bonnie Earl of I\Iurray [Finlay] 121 16. The Winning of Cales 123 17. Sir .John Suckling's Campaign 128 18. The Battle of Philiphaugh 131 19. The Gallant Grahams. 137 20. The Battle of Loudon HiU 144 21. The Battle of Both well Bridge 148 22. The Battle of Killiecrankie 152 23. The Battb of Sherifl-Muir 156 24. Lord Derwentwater 164 25. The Battl3 of Tranent-Muir, or of Preston -Pans. . 167 iv CONTENTS. Page APPENDIX. The Battle of Otterburn 177 The Battle of Harlaw 180 King Henrie the Fifth's Conquest 190 Jane Shore 194 Sir Andrew Barton 201 The Battle of Corichie 210 The Battle of Babmnes (or Glenlivet) 214 Bonny John Seton 230 The Haws of Cromdale 234 The Battle of Alford 238 The Battle of Pentland Hills 240 The Eeading Skirmish 243 Undaunted Londonderry 247 Proelium Gillicrankianum 251 The Bo>Tie Water 253 The Woman Warrior 257 The Battle of Sheriff-I\Iuu: 260 Up and war them a', Willie 264 The Jlarquis of Huntley's Retreat 267 Johnie Cope 274 King Leu- and his three Daughters 276 Fair Rosamond 283 Queen Eleanor's Fall 292 The Duchess of Suffolk's Calamity 299 The Life and Death of Thomas Stukely 806 Lord Delaware 314 The Battle of Harlaw (Traditional version) 317 VOL. VIII. BOOK VIII. 1 King John and the Abbot of Canterbury 3 2. Captain Wedderburn's Courtship H CONTENTS. V Page 3. Lfiy the Bent to the Bonny Broom 18 4. King Eli ward Fourth and the Tanner of Tani worth 21 B. The King and the Miller of Mansfield 32 6. Gemutn?, the Jew of Venice 45 7. The Frolicksorae Duke, or, The Tinker's Good Fortune 54 8 a. The Heir of Linne. [Percy.] 60 8 b. The Heir of Linne. [Traditional version] TO 9. The Wandering Jew 76 10. Troud Lady Margaret 83 11. Eeedisdale and Wise William 87 12 a. Geordie. [Musical Museum.] 92 12 b. Geordie. [Kinloch.] 96 13. The Gaberlunzie Man 98 14. The Turnaraent of Totenham 101 15. The Wyf of Auchtirmuchty 116 16. The Friar in the Well 122 17. Get up and bar the Door 125 18. The Dragon of Wantley 128 APPENDIX Kempy Kaye. f Sharpe. 1 139 Kerapy Kaye. [Kinloch.) 141 The Jovial Hunter of Broms^ove 144 The Bludy Serk 147 The Wanton Wife of Bath....'. 152 The Gentleman in Thracia 158 Sir Richard Whittliigton's Advancement 165 Catskin's Garland, or. The Wandering young Gentle- man 172 The Taming of a Shrew 182 Titus Andronicus's Complaint 188 John Dory 194 Sir Eglamore 196 Jephthah, Judge of Israel 198 Samson 20i Queen Dido, or, The Wandering Prince of Troy 207 George Barnwell 213 vi CONTEXTS. Pag? The Duke of AtlioPs Nurse. [Buchan.] 228 The Duke of Athol's Nourice. [Kinloch.] 231 The Hireman Chiel 233 Armstrong and Musgrave 243 Fair Margaret of Craignargat 248 Richie Storie 25a The Farmer's Old Wife 25V The Duel of Wharton and Stuart 259 Saddle to Rags 265 The Fause Knight upon the Road 269 Gifts from over Sea 271 The Courteous Knight 272 The Northern Lord and Cruel Jew 277 Gight's Lady 285 Glossary 293 Index 337 BOOK YII. CONTINUED. VOL. vn. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. In the twelfth year of Richard II. (1388,) the Scots assembled an extensive army, with the intention of invading England on a grand scale, in revenge for a previous incursion made by that sovereign. But in- formation having been received that the Northum- brians were gathering in considerable force for a counter-invasion, it was thought prudent not to at- tempt to carry out the original enterprise. While, therefore, the main body of the army, commanded by the Earl of Fife, the Scottish king's second son, ravaged the western borders of England, a detachment of three or four thousand chosen men, under the Earl of Douglas, penetrated by a swift march into the Bishop- ric of Durham, and laid waste the country with fire and sword. Returning in triumph from this inroad, Douglas passed insultingly before the gates of New- castle, where Sir Harry Percy lay in garrison. This fiery wan-ior, though he could not venture to cope with forces far superior to his own, sallied out to break a lance with his hereditary foe. In a skirmish before the town he lost his spear and pennon, which Douglas Bwore he would plant as a trophy on the highest tower of his castle, unless it should be that very night re- taken by the owner. Hotspur was deterred from 4 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. accepting this challenge immediately, by the appre- hension that Douglas would be able to effect a union with the main body of the Scottish army before he could be overtaken, but when he learned, the second day, that the Earl was retreating with ostentatious elowness, he hastily got together -a company of eight or ten thousand men, and set forth in pursuit. The English forces, under the command of Hot- spur and his brother, Sir Ralph Percy, came up with the Scots at Otterbourne, a small village about thirty miles from Newcastle, on the evening of the 15th of August. Their numbers were more than double the Scots, but they were fatigued with a long march. Percy fell at once on "the camp of Douglas, and a des- perate action ensued. The victory seemed to be in- clining to the English, when the Scottish leader, as the last means of reanimating his followers, rushed on the advancing enemy with heroic daring, and cleared a way with his battle-axe into the middle of their ranks. All but alone and unsupported, Douglas was over- powered by numbers, and sunk beneath three mortal wounds. The Scots, encouraged by the furious charge of their chieftain, and ignorant of his fate, renewed the struggle with vigor. Ralph Percy was made prisoner by the Earl Mareschal, and soon after Hotspur him- self by Lord Montgomery. Many other Englishmen of rank had the same fate. After a long fight, mam- tained with extraordinary bravery on both sides, the English retiri^d and left the Scots masters of the field. (See Sir W. Scott's History of Scotland^ i. 225.) The ballad whicjbi follows, printed from the fourth or revised edition of Percy's Reliques (vol. i. p. 21), w^as derived from a manuscript in the Cotton library THE BATTLE OF OTTEKBOURNE. 6 (Cleopatra, c. iv. fol. 64), thought to be written about the middle of the sixteenth century. In the earlier editions, a less perfect copy, from the Harleian col- lection, had been used. Hume of Godscroft, speaking of the songs made on the battle of Otterbourne, says, " the Scots song made of Otterbourne telleth the time — about Lammas ; and also the occasion — to take preys out of England ; also the dividing armies be- twixt the Earls of Fife and Douglas, and their several Journeys, almost as in the authentic history," and pro- ceeds to quote the first stanza of the present ballad. Again, it is said that at Lammas, when the Scotch husbandmen are busy at getting in their bay, the season has been over for a month in most parts of England. From these circumstances, and the occur- rence of certain Scottish words, the first part of The Battle of Otterbourne has been regarded as a Scottish composition, retouched by an English hand. A somewhat mutilated version of this ballad was published in Herd's Scottish Songs. This, though de- fective, well deserves a place in our Appendix. Sir Walter Scott inserted in the Minstrelsy another edi- tion made up by him from two copies obtained from the recitation of old persons residing in Ettrick Forest, and it is here subjoined to Percy's version. Genealogical notices of the personages mentioned in this and the following ballad will be found in Percy's Reliques and in Scott's Minstrelsy. Yt felle abowght the Lamasse tyde, Whan husbonds wynn ther haye, The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to rjde, In Ynglond to take a praye. 6 THE EA.TTLE OF OTTEIIBOURNE. Tht yerlle of FyfFe, withowghten stryffe, He bowynd hym over Sulway^: The grete wolde ever together ryde ; That race they may rue for aye. Over Ottercap hylP they came in, And so dowyn by RodelyfFe cragge, Upon Grene Leyton they lyghted dowyn, Styrande many a stagge^; And boldely brent Northomberlonde, And haryed many a tovvyn ; They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange, To battell that were not bowyn. ^ i. e. over Solway frith. This evidently refers to the other division of the Scottish army, which came in by way of Carlisle. — Percy. 2 sc. the Earl of Douglas and his party. — The several stations here mentioned are well-known places in Northum- berland. Ottercap-hill is in the parish of Kirk-Whelpington, in Tynedale-ward. Rodeliffe- (or, as it is more usually pro- nounced, Rodeley-) Cragge is a noted cliff near Rodeley, a small village in the parish of Hartburn, in Morpeth-ward. Green Leyton is another small village in the same parish of Hartburn, and is southeast of Rodeley. Both the original ^:|SS. read here, corruptly, Hoppertop and Lynton. — P. 3 Many a styrande stage, in both AISS. Motherwell would retain this reading, because stagge signifies in Scot- land a young stallion, and by supplying " off" the line would make sense. Tt was one of the Border laws, he remarks, tliat the Scottish array of battle should be on foot (see v. 15 of the Second Part). Horses were used but for a retreat or pursuit. THE BITTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. riian spake a berne upon the bent, Of comforte that was not colde, And sayd, " We have brent Northomberlond, We have all welth in holde. ^ Now we have haryed all Bamboroweshyre, All the welth in the worlde have wee ; I rede we ryde to Newe Castell, So sty 11 and stalwurthlye." Uppon the morowe, when it was daye, The standards schone fuUe bryght ; To the Newe Castelle the toke the waye, And thether they cam fulle ryght. Sir Henry Percy laye at the Newe Castelle, I telle yow withowtten drede ; lie had byn a march-man all hys dayes, And kepte Barwyke upon Twede. To the Newe Castell when they cam, The Skottes they cryde on hyght, " Syr Harye Percy, and thow byste within, Com to the fylde, and fyght : " For we have brente Northomberlonde, Thy eritage good and ryght ; And syne my logeyng I have take, With my brande dubbyd many a knyght*'' 8 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. , Sir Harry Percy cam to the walles, The Skottyssh oste for to se ; *'And thow hast brente Northomberlond, Full sore it rewyth me. " yf thou hast haryed all Bambarowe shyre, Thow hast done me grete envye ; For the trespasse thow hast me done, The tone of us schall dye." *' Where schall I byde the ? " sayd the Dowglas, " Or where wylte thow come to me ? '* " At Otterborne in the hygh way, Ther maist thow well logeed be. " The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes, To make the ^ame and dee ; The fawkon and the fesaunt both, Amonge the holtes on hye. " Ther maist thow have thy welth at wyll, Well looged ther maist be ; Yt scliall not be long or I com the tyll," Sayd Syr Harry Percye. " Ther schall I byde the," sayd the Dowglas, " By the fayth of my bodye : " '* Thether schall I com," sayd Syr Harry Percy " My trowth I plyght to the." THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. A pype of wyne he gave them over the walles, For soth, as I yow saye ; Ther he mayd the Douglas drynke, And all hys oste that daye. The Dowglas turnyd hym homewarde agayne, For soth withowghten naye ; He tooke his logeyng at Oterborne Uppon a "Wedynsday. And there he pyght hys standerd dowyn, Hys gettyng more and lesse, And syne he warned hys men to goo To chose ther geldyngs gresse. A Skottysshe knyght hoved upon the bent, ^ • A wache I dare well saye ; So was he ware on the noble Percy In the dawnynge of the daye. He prycked to his pavyleon dore, As faste as he myght ronne ; " Awaken, Dowglas," cryed the knyght, " For hys love, that syttes yn trone. " Awaken, Dowglas," cryed the knyght, " For thow maiste waken wyth wynne ; Tender have I spyed the prowde Percy, And seven standardes wyth hym." 1 the best bent, MS. 10 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE, " Nay bj my trowth," the Douglas sayed, " It ys but a fayiied taylle ; He durste not loke on my bred banner, For all Ynglonde so haylle. " Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castcll, That stonds so fayre on Tyne ? For all the men the Percy hade, He cowde not garre me ones to dyne." He stepped owt at hys pavelyon dore, To loke and it were lesse ; " Araye yow, lordyngs, one and all, For here bygynnes no peysse. " The yerle of Mentayne,^ thow art my eme, The forwarde I gyve to the : The yerlle of Huntlay^ cawte and kene. He schall wyth the be. "The lorde of Bowghan,^marmure bryght, On the other hand he schall be ; 1 The Earl of Menteith. At the time of tlie battle the earldom of Menteith was possessed by Robert Earl of Fife, who was ill command of the main body of the army, and consequently not with Douglas. 2 The reference is to Sir John Gordon. The use of this designation shows, says Percy, that the ballad was not com- posed before 1449. In that year the title of Earl of Huntly was first conferred on Alexander Seaton, who married the grand-daughter of the Gordon of Otterbourne. 3 The Earl of Buchan fourth son of King Kobert TL THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE 11 Lord Jhonstoue and Lorde Maxwell, They to schall be wyth me. " Swynton, fayre t'ylde upon your pryde ! To batell make yow bowen, Syr Davy Scotte, Syr Walter Stewarde, Syr Jhon of Agurstone ! " A FYTTE. [the second part.] The Perssy came byfore hys oste, Wych was ever a gentyll knyght ; Upon the Dowglas lowde can he crye, " I wyll holde that I have hyght. " For thow haste brente Northumberlonde, And done me grete envye ; For thys trespasse thou hast me done, The tone of us schall dye." The Dowglas answerde hym agayne With grete wurds up on hye,. And sayd, " I have twenty agaynst the one, Byholde, and thow maiste see." Wyth that the Percye was grevyd sore, For sothe as I yow saye ; 12 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURXB. He lyghted dowyn upon his fote, And schoote his horsse clene away. Every man sawe that he dyd soo, That ryall was ever in rowght ; Every man schoote hys horsse him froo, And lyght hym rowynde abowght. Thus Syr Hary Percye toke the fy Ide, For soth, as I yow saye ; Jesu Cryste in hevyn on hyght Dyd helpe hym well that daye. But nyne thowzand, ther was no moo, The cronykle wyll not layne ; Forty thowsande Skottes and fowre That day fowght them agayne. But when the batell byganne to joyne, In hast ther came a knyght; * Then ' letters fayre furth hath he tayne, And thus he sayd full ryght: " My lorde, your father he gretes yow well, Wyth many a noble knyght ; He desyres yow to byde That he may see thys fyght. ' The Baron of Grastoke ys com owt of the west With hinr a noble companye ; THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 13 AH they loge at your fathers thys nyght, And the battell fayne wold they see. " For Jesus love," sayd Syr Harye Percy, " That dyed for yow and me, Wende to my lorde my father agayne. And saye thou saw me not with yee. ^ My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght, It nedes me not to layne. That I schulde byde hym upon thys bent, And I have hys trowth agayne. '' And if that I wende off thys grownde, For soth, unfoughten awaye, He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght In hys londe another daye. \ " Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente, By Mary, that mykel maye, Then ever my manhod schulde be reprovyd Wyth a Skotte another daye. " Wherefore schote, archars, for my sake, And let scharpe arowes flee ; Mynstrells, play up for your waryson. And well quyt it schall be. " Every man thynke on hys trewe love, And marke hym to the Trenite ; 14 THE UATTLE OF OTTEilBOURN E. For to God I make myne avowe Thys day wyll I not fle." The blodye harte in tlie Dowglas armes, Hys standerde stode on bye ; That every man myght full well knowe ; By syde stode starres thre. The whyte lyon on the Ynglysh parte, Forsoth, as I yow sayne, The lucetts and the cressawnts both ; The Skotts faught them agayne. Uppon Sent Andre we lowde cane they crye, And thrysse they schowte on hyght, And syne marked them one owr Ynglysshe men, As I have tolde yow ryght. Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght, To name they were full fayne ; Owr Ynglysshe men they cryde on hyght, And thrysse the schowtte agayne. "Wyth that, scharpe arowes bygan to flee, I tell yow in sertayne ; Men of armes byganne to joyne. Many a dowghty man was ther slayne. The Percy and the Dowglas mette, That ether of other was fayne ; THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 15 They schapped together, whyll that the swette, With swords of fyne collayne ; Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnetts ranne. As the roke doth in the rayne ; " Yelde the to me," sayd the Dowglas, " Or ells thow schalt be slayne. " For I see by thy bryght bassonet, Thow art sum man of myght ; And so I do by thy burnysshed brande ; Thow art an yerle, or ells a knyght."^ " By my good faythe," sayd the noble Percy, " Now haste thou rede full ryght ; Yet wyll I never yelde me to the, Whyll I may stonde and fyght." They swapped together, whyll that they swette, Wyth swordes scharpe and long ; Ych on other so faste they beette, Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn. The Percy was a man of strenghth, I tell yow in thys stounde ; He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length, That he felle t^ the growynde. 1 Being all in armour he could not know him. — P. 16 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. The sworde was scharpe, and sore can byte, I tell yow in sertayne ; To the harte he cowde hym smyte, Thus was the Dowglas slayne. Tlie stonderds stode styll on eke syde, With many a grevous grone ; Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght, And many a dowghty man was slayne. Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye, But st} ffly in stowre can stond, Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght dryt Wyth many a bayllefull bronde. Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde, For soth and sertenly, Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne, That daye that he cowde dye. The yerle of Mentaye he was slayne, Grysely groned uppon the growynd ; Syr Davy Scotte, Syr AYalter Steward, Syr John of Agurstonne.^ Syr Charlies Morrey in that place, That never a fote wold llye ; 1 Both the MSS. read here Sir James, but see above Pt. 1. p. 11.— P. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 17 Sir Hughe Maxwelle, a lorde he was, Witli the Dowglas dyd he dye. Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde, For soth as I yow saye, Of fowre and forty thowsande Scotts Went but eyghtene awaye. Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde-, For soth and sertenlye, A gentell Ivnygkt, Sir John Fitz-hughe, Yt was the more petye. Syr James Harebotell ther was slayne, For hym ther hartes were sore ; The gentyll Lovelle^ ther was slayne, That the Percyes standerd bore. Ther was slayne uppon the Ynglyssh perte, For soth as I yow saye, Of nyne thowsand Yngly^-.sh men Fyve hondert cam awaye. The other were slayne in the fylde ; Cryste kepe their sowles from wo I Seying ther was so few fryndes Agaynst so many a foo. 1 Covelle, MS. VOL. VIL 2 18 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. Then one the morne they mayd them beeres Of byrch, and haysell graye ; Many a wydowe with wepyng teyres Ther makes they fette awaye. Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne, Bytwene the nyghte and the day : Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyfe, And the Percy was lede awaye. Then was ther a Scottyshe prisoner tayne, Syr Hughe Mongomery^ was hys name; For soth as I yow saye, He borowed the Percy home agayne. Now let us all for the Percy praye To Jesu most of myght, To bryng hys sowle to the blysse of heven. For he was a gentyll knyglit. 1 Supposed to be son of Lord John Montgomery, whc took Hotspur prisoner. In Tlie Hunting of the Cheviot tbif Sir Hugh is said to have been sh\in with an arrow. THE BA.TTLE OF OTTEllBOUKNE. 19 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. From Minstrelsy of iJie Scottish Border, i. 354, In the Complaint of Scotland (1548), " The Persee and the Moiiijumrye met," (v. 117 of this piece,) occurs as the title, or rather the catchword, of one of the popular songs of the time. It fell about the Lammas tide, When the muir-men win their hay, The doughty Douglas bound him to ride Into England, to drive a prey. He chose the Gordons and the Grcemes, With them the Lindesays, light and gayi ; But the Jardines" wald not with him ride, And they rue it to this day. And he has burn'd the dales of Tyne, And part of Bambroughshire ; 1 " Light " is the appropriated designation of the Lind- says, as " gay " is that of the Gordons. 2 The Jardines were a clan of hardy West-Border roeii. Their chief was Jardine of Applegirth. Their refusal to ride with Douglas was, probably, the result of one of those perpetual feuds, which usually rent to pieces a Scottish ftrmy. — S. 20 THE liATTLE OF OTTEB. OURNE. And three good towers on Reidswire fella. He left them all on fire. And he march'd up to Newcastle, And rode it round about ; " wha's the lord of this castle, Orwha's thelady o't?" But up spake proud Lord Percy then, And but he spake hie ! « I am the lord of this castle, My wife's the lady gay." " If thou'rt the lord of this castle, Sae weel it pleases me ! For, ere I cross the Border fells, The tane of us shall die." He took a lang spear in his hand. Shod with the metal free, And for to meet the Douglas there, He rode right furiouslie. But O how pale his lady look'd, Frae aff the castle wa', When down before the Scottish spear She saw proud Percy fa'. « Had we twa been upon the green, And never an eye to see. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 21 I wad liae had you, flesh and felP ; But your sword sail gae wi' mu." " But gae ye up to Otterbourne, And wait there dayis three ; And if I come not ere three dayis end, A i'ause knight ca' yc me." " The Otterbourne's a bonnie burn ; 'Tis pleasant there to be ; But there is nought at Otterbourne, To feed my men and me. " The deer rins wild on hill and dale, The birds fly wild from tree to tree But there is neither bread nor kale. To fend my men and me. " Yet I will stay at Otterbourne, Where you shall welcome be ; And if ye come not at three dayis end, A fause lord I'll ca' thee." " Thither will I come," proud Percy said, " By the might of Our Ladye ! " " There will I bide thee," said the Douglas, *' My troth I plight to thee." 1 Douglas insinuates that Percy was rescued by his soldiers. — S. 22 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNl^ They lighted high on Otterbourne, Upon the bent sae brown ; TJiey lighted high on Otterbourne, And threw their pallions down. And he that had a bonnie boy, Sent out his horse to grass ; And he that had not a bonnie boy, His ain servant he was. But up then spake a little page, Before the peep of dawn — " waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, For Percy's hard at hand." " Ye lie, ye lie, ye liar loud ! Sae loud I hear ye lie : For Percy had not men yestreen To dight my men and me. " But I have dream'd a dreary dream, Beyond the Isle of Sky ; I saw a dead man win a fight. And I think that man was I.'* He belted on his guid braid sword, And to the field he ran ; But he forgot the helmet good. That should have kept his brain. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 23 When Percy wi' the Douglas met, I wat be was fu' fain ; They swakked their swords, till sair they swat, And the blood ran down like rain. But Percy with liis good broad sword, That could so sharply wound, Has wounded Douglas on the brow. Till he fell to the ground. Then he call'd on his little foot-page, And said — " Run speedilie, And fetch my ain dear sister's son, Sir Hugh Montgomery. " My nephew good," the Douglas said, " What recks the death of ane ! Last night I dream'd a dreary dream. And I ken the day's thy ain. '* My wound is deep ; I fain would sleep; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken bush, That grows on yonder lilye lee. '* bury me by the braken bush, Beneath the blooming brier, Let never living mortal ken That ere a kindly Scot lies here.** 24 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE, He lifted up that noble lord, Wi' the saut tear in his ee ; He hid him in the braken bush, That his merrie-raen might not see. The moon was clear, the day drew near, The spears m flinders flew, But mony a gallant Englishman Ere day the Scotsmen slew. The Gordons good, in English blood . They steep'd their hose and shoon ; The Lindsays flew like fire about, Till all the fray was done. The Percy and Montgomery met, That either of other were fain ; They swapped swords, and they twa swat. And aye the blood ran down between. '* Now yield thee, yield tbee, Percy," he said, " Or else I vow I'll lay thee low ! " " To whom must I yield," quoth Earl Percy, " Now that I see it must be so ? " ^ Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun, Nor yet shalt thou yield to me ; But yield thee to the braken bush, That grows upon yon lilye lee." THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOr. 25 " I will not yield to a braken bush, Nor yet will I yield to a brier ; But I would yield to Earl Douglas, Or Sir Hugh the Montgomery, if he wen here." As soon as he knew it was Montgomery, He struck his sword's point in the gronde ; Tlie Montgomery was a courteous knight, And quickly took him by the honde. This deed was done at the Otterbourne, About the breaking of the day ; Earl Douglas was buried at the braken bush And the Percy led captive away.^ THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. In the Battle of Otterbourne the story is told with all the usual accuracy of tradition, and the usual fairness i>f partizans. Not so with the following ballad, which is founded on the same event. " That which is com- monly sung of the Hunting of Cheviot" says Hume of Godscroft truly, "seemeth indeed poetical, and a 1 Douglas was really buried in Melrose Abbey, where his tomb is still to be seen. 26 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. mere fiction, perhaps to stir up virtue ; yet a fiction whereof there is no mention either in the Scottish or EngUsh chronicle." When this ballad arose we do not know, but we may suppose that a considerable dme would elapse before a minstrel would venture to treat an historical event with so much freedom. We must, however, allow some force to these remarks of Percy : " With regard to the subject of this ballad, although it has no countenance from history, there is room to think it had originally some foundation m fact. It was one of the laws of the Marches, fre- quently renewed between the nations, that neither partv should hunt in the other's borders, w^ithout leavt from the proprietoi's or their deputies. There had long been a rivalship between the two martial families of Percy and Douglas, which, heightened by the national quarrel, must have produced frequent challenges and struggles for superiority, petty inva- sions of their respective domains, and sharp contests for the point of honour ; which would not always be recorded in history. Something of this kind, we may suppose, gave rise to the ancient ballad of the Hunting a' the Chenat. Percy Earl of Northumberland had vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border, without condescending to ask leave from Earl Doug- las, who was either lord of the soil, or lord warden of the Marches. Douglas would not fail to resent the insult, and endeavour to repel the intruders by force : this would naturally produce a sharp conflict between the two parties ; something of which, it is probable, did really happen, though not attended with the tragical circumstances recorded in the ballad : for these are evidentlv borrowed from the Battle of Otter THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. 27 bourn, a very different event, but wliicli aftertimes would easily confound with it." * The ballad as here printed is of the same age as the preceding. It is extracted from Hearne's Preface to the History of Guilielmus Neubrigensis, p. Ixxxii. Hearne derived his copy from a manuscript in the Ashmolean collection at Oxford, and printed the text in long lines, which, according to custom, are now broken up into tAvo. The manuscript copy is subscribed at the end " Expliceth quoth Rychard Sheale." Kichard Sheale (it has been shown by a writer in the British Bib- liographer, vol. iv. p. 97-105) was a minstrel by pro- fession, and several other pieces in the same ^IS. have a like signature with this. On this ground it has been very strangely concluded that Sheale was not, as Percy and Ritson supposed, the transcriber, but the actual author of this noble ballad. The glar- mg objection of the anticjuity of the language has * Tlie Editor of the Beliques afterwards met with the fol- lowing passage in Collins's Peerage, which he thought might throw some light on the question of the origin of the ballad •' In this .... year, 1436, according to Hector Boethius, was fought the battle of Pepperden, not far from the Cheviot Hills, between the Earl of Northumberland [lid Earl, son of Hotspur], and Earl William Douglas, of Angus, with a small array of about four thousand men each, in which the latter had the advantage. As this seems to have been a private couf.ict between these two great Chieftains of the Borders, rather than a national war, it has been thought to have given rise to the celebrated old ballad of Chevy-Chase; which to render it more pathetic and interesting, has been heightened with tragical incidents wholly fictitious." 28 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. been met, first, by the supposition that the author be- longed Uj the north of England, and afterwards, when it appeared that Sheale lived at TamAvorth, about a hundred miles from London, by the allegation that the language of a person in humble life in Warwickshire or Staffordshire would be very far behind the current speech of the metropolis. It happens, however, that the language of the ballad is very much older than the other compositions of Sheale, as a moment's in- spection will show. Besides, Sheale's poetical abilities were manifestly of the lowest order, and although he styles himself " minstrel," we have no reason to think that he ever composed ballads. He speaks of his memory being at one time so decayed that he " could neither sing nor talk." Being a mere ha\\R(\-singer and story-teller, he would naturally be dependent on that faculty. The fact is very obvious, that Richard Sheale was a mere reciter of songs and tales ; at any rate, that all we have to thank him for in the matter of Chevy Chase is for committing to paper the only old copy that has come down to our times.* The Huntinci of the Cheviot is mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland with other, very ancient, ballads. It was consequently popular in Scotland in 1548, ten years before the time that we know Sheale to have written anything. The mention of James the Scottish King forbids us to assign this piece an earlier date than the reign of Henry VI. It has been customary to understand Sidney^s * We regret that even Dr. Rimbault has hastily sanc- tioned this ascription of Chevy-Chase to the "sely" min ctrel of Tarn worth. THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. 29 saying of tlie "old song of Percy and Douglas" — that it moved his heart more than a trumpet — ex- clusively of Chevy Chase. There is no question which ballad would stand higher in the estimation of the o^entle knight, but the terms bv which the war- flong he admired is described are of course equally applicable to The Battle of Otterhourne. By the way we may remark that if we do understand Sidney to have meant Chevy Chase, then, whatever opinion writers of our day may have of its antiquity, and however probable it may seem to them that Chevy Chase was written by a contemporary of Sir Philip, it appeared to the author of the Defence of Poetry to be " evil apparelled in the dust and cobweb of an uncivil age " I THE FIRST FIT. The Perse owt off Northombarlande, And a vowe to God mayd he, That he wold hunte in the mountayns Off Chyviat within days thre. In the manger^ of doughte Dogles, And all that ever with him be. The fattiste hartes in all C'leviat He sayd he wold kill, and cary them away : ^* Be my feth," sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn, " I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may." ^ raagger JO THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. Then^ the Perse owt of Banborowe cam, \yith him a myghtee meany ; With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone, The wear chosen owt of shyars thre.^ This begane on a Monday at morn, In Cheviat the hillys so he ; The chyld muy rue that ys un-born, It was the mor pitte. The dryvars throrowe the woodes went, For to reas the dear ; Bomen byckarte uppone the bent With ther browd aras cleare. Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went, On every syde shear ; Grea-hondes thorowe the grevis glent, For to kyll thear dear. The begane in Chyviat the hyls above, Yerly on a Monnyn day ; 1 The the. 2 archardes. 3 By these shyars Hire is probably meant tliree distriota in Northumberland, which still go by the name of shi7'es, and are all in the neighbourhood of Cheviot. These are Island' g/ifrc, being the district so named from Holy-Island: Nore- hamshire, so called from the town and castle of Noreham (or Norham) : and BamLoroughshire, the ward or hundred belong- ing to Bamborough-castle and town. — Pekcy. THE HUNTING! OP THE CHEVIOT. 81 Be that it drewe to the oware off none, A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay. The blewe a mort^ uppone the bent, The sembljd on sydis shear ; To the quyrry then the Perse went. To se the bryttlynge off the deare. He sayd, " It was the Duglas promys This day to met me hear ; But I wyste he ^v•old faylle, verament : '* A great oth the Perse swear. At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde Lokyde at his hand full ny ; He was war a' the^doughetie Doglas comynge, With him a myghtte raeany ; Both with speai, byll,^ and brande ; Yt was a myghti sight to se ; Hardyar men, both off hart nar hande, Wear not in Christiante. The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good, Withowte any feale ; Tlie wear borne along be the watter a Twyde, Yth' bowndes of Tividale. 1 blwe a mot. 2 ath the. 3 brylly. 32 THE HUNTING OF i^E CHEVIOT. " Leave of the brytlyng of the dear," he sayde, " And to your bowys^ lock ye ta} k good heed ; For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne Had ye never so mickle ned." The dougheti Dogglas on a stede He rode att his men beforne ; His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede ; A bolder barne was never born. " Tell me whos men ye ar," he says, " Or whos men that ye be : Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays. In the spyt of me ? " The first mane that ever him an answear mayd, Yt was the good lord Perse : " We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar," he says, " Nor whos men that we be ; But we wyll hount hear in this chays. In the spyt of thyne and of the. '' The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat We have kyld, and cast to carry them a-way : * ^ Be my troth," sayd the doughte Dogglas agayn, " Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day." 1 boys. - agay. THE HUNTING OP THE CHEVIOT. 33 Then sayd the doughte Doglas Unto the lord Perse : " To kyll all thes giltles men, Alas, it wear great pitte ! " But, Perse, thowe art a lord of lande, I am a yerle callyd within my contre ; Let all our men uppone a parti stande, And do the battell off the and of me." " Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne," sayd the^ lord Perse, " Whosoever ther-to says nay ; Be my troth, doughtte Doglas," he says, " Thow shalt never se that day. " Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France, Nor for no man of a woman born. But, and fortune be my chance, I dar met him, on man for on." Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde, Richard Wytharyngton was him nam ; •* It 'shall never be told in Sot he- Ynglonde," he says, " To kyng Herry the fourth for sham. - s:iyd tbp the. VOL. VII. 3 34 THE HUNTING OF TH2 CHEVIOT. "I wat youe bjn great lordes twaw, I am a poor squyar of lande ; 1 wyll never se my captayne fygbt on a fylde, And stande myselfFe, and loocke on, But whyll I may my weppone welde, I wyll not [fayl] both hart and hande." Tliat day, that day, that dredfull day !^ The first fit here I fynde ; And youe wyll here any mor a' the hountyng a' the Chyviat, Yet ys ther mor behynd. THE SECOND FIT. The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,- Ther hartes were good yenoughe ; The first off arros that the shote off, Seven shore spear-men the sloughe. 1 " That day, that day, that gentil day," is cited in The Comphnpit of Scotland, (ii. 101,) not, we imagine, as the tide of a balhid (.any more than " The Persee and the Mongiimrye met," ante, p. 19,) but as a line by which the song containing it might be recalled. - It is well known that the ancient English weapon was the long-bow, and that this nation excelled all others in archery, while the Scottish warriors chiefly depended on the use of the spear. This characteristic difference never escapes our ancient bard. — Picucy. THE HUNTING OF THE CHKVIOT. 35 Yet bjddjs the yerle Doglas uppon the bent, A captayne good yenoughe, And that was sene verament, For he wrought horn both woo and wouche. The Dogglas pertyd his ost or thre, Lyk a chefFe cheften off pryde, With suar spears off myghtte tre, The cum in on every syde : Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery Gave many a wounde full wyde ; Many a doughete the garde to dy, Which ganyde them no pryde. The Ynglyshe men let thear bowys^ be, And pulde owt brandes that wer bright^; It was a hevy syght to se Bryght s\voi\les on basnites lyght. Throrowe ryche male and myneyeple, Many sterne the stroke downe^ streght; Many a freyke tlitit was full fre, Ther undar foot dyd lyght. A.t last the Duglas and the Perse met, Lykto^oaplayns of myglit and of mayne ; 1 boys. 2 briggt. '^ done. * to, i. e. tow. 36 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. The swapte togethar tyll the both swat, With swordes that wear of fyn myllan. Thes worthe frecUys for to fyght, Ther-to the wear full fayne, Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente, As ever dyd heal or rayne. ^ " Holde^ the, Perse," sayde the Doglas, " And i' fetli I shall the brynge Wher thowe shake have a yerls wagis Of Jamy our Scottish'^ kynge. " Thoue shake have thy ransom fre, I hight the hear this thinge. For the raanfullyste man yet art thowe, That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng." " Nay," sayd the lord Perse, " I tolde it the beforne, That I wolde never yeldyde be To no man of a woman born." With that ther cam an arrowe^ hastely, Forthe off a myghtte wane ; Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas In at the brest bane. 1 ran. ^ helde. s Scottih. * a narrowe. So again in v. 83, and a nowar in v. 90. This transference of final n to the succeeding word is of commou occurrence in old poetry. THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. 37 Throroue ly var and longs, bathe The sharp arrowe ys gane, That never after m all his lyffe-days, He spayke mo wordes but ane : L^^ay, That was, " Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye For my lyff-days ben gan." The Perse leanyde on his brande. And sawe the Duglas de ; He tooke the dede mane be the hande. And sayd, " Wo ys me for the ! " To have savyde thy lyffe, I wolde have pertyde with My landes for years thre. For a better man, of hart nare of hande, "Was not in all the north contre." Off all that se a Skottishe knyght, Was callyd Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry ; He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght, He spendyd a spear, a trusti tre : — He rod uppon a eorsiare Throughe a hondrith archery: He never stynttyde, nar never blane, Tyll he cam to the good lord Perse. He set uppone the lord Perse A dynte that was full snare ' 38 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. With a suar spear of a myghtte tre Clean thorow the body he the Perse ber, A'the tothar syde that a man myght se A large cloth yard and mare : Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiante, Then that day slain wear ther. An archar off Northomberlonde Say slean was the lord Perse ; He bar a bende-bowe in his hand, Was made off trusti tre. An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang, To th' harde stele haylde he ; A dynt that was both sad and soar, He sat on Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry. The dynt yt was both sad and soar, ^ That he on^Monggonberry sete ; The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar. With his hart-blood the wear wete. Ther was never a freak e wone foot wolde fle, But still in stour dyd stand, Heawyng on yche othar, why 11 the myght dre. With many a balfull brande. •^ of. THE HUNTING OF TIIK CHEVIOT. 39 This battell begane in Chyviat An owar befor the none. And Avben even-song bell was rang, The battell was nat half done. The tooke on ethar hand^ Be the Ijght off the raone ; jNLanj- hade no strenght for to stande, In Chyviat the hillys aboun.^ Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde Went away but fifti and thre ; Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde, But even five and fifti : But all wear slayne Cheviat within ; The hade no strenge to stand on hy ; The chylde may rue that ys unborne, It was the mor pitte. Thear was slayne withe the lord Perse, Sir John of Agerstone, Sir Rogar, the hinde Hartly, Sir "VVyllyam, the bolde Hearone. Sir Jorg, the wortlie Lovele,^ A knyght of great renowen, Sir Raff, the ryche Rugbe, With dyntes wear beaten dowene. ^ A word has dropped out 2 abou. ^ loule 40 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. For Wetharryngton my harte was wo, That ever he slayne shulde be ; For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to, Yet he knyled and fought on hys kny. Ther was slayne with the dougheti Duglas, Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry, Sir Dary Lwdale,^ that worthe was, Hi a si stars son was he : His Charls a Murre in that place, That never a foot wolde fle ; Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was. With the Doglas dyd he dey. So on the morrowe the mayde them byears Off birch and hasell so gray 2 ; Many wedous with wepyng tears Cam to fach ther makys away. Tivydale may carpe off care, Northombarlond may raayk grat mon. For towe such captayns as slayne wear thear. On the March-perti shall never be non. Word ys commen to Eddenburrowe, To Jamy the Skottishe kyng, That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches, He lay slean Chyviot with-in. 1 Lwdale, i. e. Liddel. ^ gay. THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. 41 His handdes dyd he weal and wrjng, He sayd, "Alas, and woe ys me ! " Such an othar captnyn Skotland within,' He sayd, ye-feth shuld never be. Worde ys commyn to lovly London e, Till the fourth Hariy our kyng, That lord Perse, leyff-tenante^of theMerchis, - He lay slayne Chyviat within. " God have merei on his soil," sayd kyng Harry, " Good lord, yf thy will it be ! I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde," he sayd, "As good as ever was he : But Perse, and I brook my lyffe, Thy deth well quyte shall be." As our noble kyng mayd hig a-vowe, Lyke a noble prince of renowen, For the deth of the lord Perse He dyde the a; tell of Hombyll-down : Wher syx and thritte Skottishe knyghtes On a day wear beaten down : Glendale-glytterydeonther armor bryght, Over castill, towar, and town. 1 cheyff. 2 Gleiidale is one of the seven "vrards of Northnmber- land. In this district the village of Homildown is situated about a mile from Wooler. On the 14th of September, 1402 42 THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. This was tlie Hontynge off the Cheviat; That tear begane this spurn : Old men that knowen the grownde well yenoughe, Call it the Battell of Otterburn. At Otterburn began this spurne Uppon a Monnjn^ day: Ther was the dougghte Doglas slean, The Perse never went away. Ther was never a tym on the March-partes Sen the Doglas and the Perse met, Bat yt was marvele, and the rede blude ronne not, As the reane doys in the stret. Jhesue Christ our ballys bete, And to the blys us brynge ! Thus was the Hountynge of the Chivyat : God send us all good endyng ! a battle was fought at this place between the Percys and Archibald, Earl of Douglas, in which the Scots were totally routed, and Douglas taken prisoner. I Konnyu. CHEVY-CHACE. 43 CHEVY-CHACE. The text of this later ballad of Chevy-Chace is given as it appears in Old Ballads (1723), vol. i. p. ill, and in Dwrfey^s Pills to Purge Melancholy^ \o\. iv. p. 289, and differs very slightly from that of the Rcliques (i. 265), where the ballad was printed from the folio MS., compared with two other black-letter copies. The age of this version of the story Is not known, but it is certainly not later, says Dr. Rimbault, than the reign of Charles the Second. Addison's papers in the Spectator (Nos. 70 and 74) evince so true a percep- tion of the merits of this ballad, shorn as it is of the most striking beauties of the grand original, that we cannot but deeply regret his never having seen the ancient and genuine copy, which was published by Hearne only a few days after Addison died. Well might the Spectator dissent from the judgment of Sidney, if this were the rude and ill-apparelled song of a barbarous God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all ; A woful hunting once there did In Chevy-Chace befall. To drive the deer with hound and horn, Erie Piercy took his way ; The child may rue that is unborn, The hunting of that day. 44 CHEVY-CHACE. The stout Earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer's days to take ; The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chace To kill and bear away : The tidings to Earl Douglas came, In Scotland where he lay. Who sent Earl Piercy present word, He would prevent his sport ; The English earl not fearing this, Did to the woods resort, With fifteen hundred bow-men bold All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright. The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, To chase the fallow deer ; On Monday they began to hunt, . When day-light did appear. And long before high noon they had An hundred fat bucks slain ; Then having din'd, the drovers went To rouze them up again- CHEVY-CHACE. 45 The bow-men rauster'd on the hills, Well able to endure ; Their backsides all, with special care, That day were guarded sure. Th.e hounds ran swiftly thro' the woods, The nimble deer to take, And with their cries the hills and dales An ecclio shrill did make. Lord Piercy to the quarry went. To view the tender deere ; Quoth he, " Earl Douglas promised This day to meet me heer. " If that I thought he would not come. No longer would I stay." With that, a brave young gentleman Thus to the Earl did say : " Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armour bright ; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears. All marching in our sight. "All men of pleasant Tividale, Fast by the river Tweed : " " Then cease your sport," Erie Piercy said, "And take your bows with speed. 46 CHEVY-CHACE. "And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance ; For there was never champion yet In Scotland or in France, " That ever did on horseback come, But, if my hap it were,^ 1 durst encounter man for man, With him to break a spear." Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold. Rode foremost of the company. Whose armour shone like gold. " Show me," he said, " whose men you be^ That hunt so boldly here, That, without my consent, do chase And kill my fallow-deer." The man that first did answer make ' Was noble Piercy he ; Who said, " We list not to declare, Nor show whose men we be. " Yet we will spend our dearest blood, Thy chiefest hart to slay ; " Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say ; 1^ since. — 0. B. CHEVY-CHACE. ** Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall dye : I know thee well, an earl thou art ; Lord Piercy, so am I. " But trust me, Piercy, pity it werd, And great offence, to kill Any of these our harmless men, For they have done no ill. " Let thou and I the battel try, And set our men aside : **Accurs'd be he," Lord Piercy said, " By whom this is deny'd." Then stept a gallant squire forth, (Witherington was his name) Who said, " I would not have it told To Henry our king for shame, " That ere my captaine fought on foot, And I stood looking on : You be two earls," said Witherington, "And I a squire alone. " I'll do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand ; While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fiorht with heart and hand." 48 CHEVY-CHACE. Our English archers bent their bows, Their hearts were good and true ; At the first flight of arrows sent, Full three score Scots they slew. To drive the deer with hound and horn, Earl Douglas had the bent ; A captain mov'd with mickle pride The spears to shivers sent. They clos'd full fast on every side, No slacknes there was found ; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground. O Christ ! it was a grief to see. And likewise for to hear. The cries of men lying in their gore, And scatter'd here and there. At last these two stout earls did meet Like captains of great might ; Like lions mov'd ^ they laid on load, ' And made a cruel fight. They fought until they both did sweat, With swords of temper'd steel ; Until the blood, like drops of rain, They trickling down did feel. 1 Percy has lions wood. CHEVY-CHACE. ^' Yield thee, Lord Piercy," Douglas said ; " In fiiith I will thee bring, Where thou shalt high advanced be By James, our Scottish king. " Thy ransom I will freely give, And thus report of thee, Thou art the most couraj^ious knight That ever I did see. *^ No,i Douglas," quoth Earl Piercy then, " Thy proffer I do scorn ; I will not yield to any Scot That ever yet was born." With that, there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow. Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart, A deep and deadly blow : Who never spoke more words than these, " Fight on, my merry men all ; For why, ray life is at an end, Lord Piercy sees my fall." Tlien leaving life, Earl Piercy took The dead man by the hand ; Ind said, " Earl Douglas, for thy life Would I had lost my land ! 1 To. VOL. VII. 4 50 CHEVY-CHACE. " O Christ ! my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake ; For sure, a more renowned knight Mischance did never take." A knight amonofst the Scots there was, Which saw Earl Douglas dye. Who straight in wrath did vow revenge Upon the Earl Piercy. Sir' Hugh Montgomery was he call'd, Who, with a spear most bright, Well-mounted on a gallant steed, Ean fiercely thro' the fight ; And pass'd the English archers all. Without all dread or fear, And through Earl Piercy's body then He thrust hi? hat»:^ful spear. With such a veh'raent force and might He did his body gore, The spear ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more. So thus did both these nobles dye. Whose courage none could stain ; An English archer then perceiv'd The noble earl was slain. CHEVY-CHACE. 51 He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree ; An arrow of a cloth-yard long Up to the head drew he. Against Sir Hugh Montgomery So right his shaft he set, The grey goose-wing that was thereon In his heart's blood was wet. This fight did last from break of day Till setting of the sun ; For when they rung the evening-bell, ^ The battel scarce was done. With the Earl Piercy, there was slain Sir John of Ogerton, Sir Robert RatclifF, and Sir John, Sir James, that bold baron. And with Sir George and good Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Rubby there was slain, Whose prowess did surmount. 1 Sc. the Curfew bell, usually rung at eight o'clock: to which the modernizer apparently alludes, instead of the " Evensong bell," or bell for vespers of the original autlior before the Reformation. — Percy. 52 CHEVY-CHA.CE. For Witherington needs must I wail, As one in doleful dumpsi; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps. And with Earl Douglas, there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, Sir Charles Currel, that from the field One foot would never fly. Sir Charles Murrel, of Rat cliff, too, His sister's son was he ; Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd, Yet saved could not bee. And the Lord Maxwell in like wise Did with Earl Douglas dye ; Of twenty hundred Scottish spears Scarce fifty-five did fiy. Of fifteen hundred Englishmen, Went home but fifty-three ; The rest were slain in Chevy-Chace, Under the o-reen-wood tree. 1 " I, as one in deep concern, must lament." The con- struction here has generally been misunderstood. — P. This phrase may help us to determine the date of the authorship of the ballad. "Doleful dumps" suggested nothing ludicrous to a writer of the age of Elizabeth, but not long after became burlesque. The observation is Percy's. CHEVY-CHACE. 53 Next day did many widows come, Their husbands to bewail ; They wash'd their wounds in brinish tears, But^ all would not prevail. Their bodies, bath'd in purple blood, They bore with them away : They kiss'd them dead a thousand times, When they were clad in clay. This news was brought to Edinburgh, AVhere Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain. " heavy news," King James did say ; " Scotland can witness be, I have not any captain more Of such account as he." Like tidings to King Henry came. Within as short a space, That Piercy of Northumberland Was slaine in Chevy-Chace. " Now God be with him," said our king, " Sith 't will no better be ; T trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he. 1 They.— 0. B. 54 CHEVY-CHACE. " Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland saj, But I will vengeance take, And be revenged on them all, For brave Earl Piercy's sake." This vow full well the king perform'd, After, on Humbledown ; In one day, fifty knights were slain, With lords of great renown. And of the rest, of small account. Did many thousands dye : Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chace, Made by the Earl Piercy. God save the king, and bless the land In plenty, joy, and peace ; And grant henceforth, that foul debate *Twixt noblemen may cease ! Sm ANDREW BARTON. 55 SIR ANDREW BAllTON. From Percy's Eeliques, ii. 193. " The transactions which did the greatest honour to the Earl of Surrey and his family at this time [a. d. loll}, was their behaviour in the case of Barton, a Scotch sea-officer. This gentleman's father having suffered by sea from the Portuguese, he had obtained letters of marque for his two sons to make reprisals upon the subjects of Portugal. It is ex- tremely probable, that the court of Scotland granted these letters with no very honest intention. The council-board of England, at which the Earl of Surrey held the chief place, was daily pestered ^vith complaints from the sailors and merchants, that Barton, who was called Sir Andrew Barton, under pretence of search- ing for Portuguese goods, interrupted the English navigation. Henry's situation at that time rendered him backward from breaking with Scotland, so that their complaints were but coldly received! The Earl of Surrey, however, could not smother his indignation, but gallantly declared at the council-board, that while he had an estate that could furnish out a ship, or a son that was capable of commanding one, the narrow seas should not be infested. " Sir Andrew Barton, who commanded the two Scotch ships, had the reputation of being one of the ablest sea officers of his time. By his depredation a, 56 SIR ANDREW BARTON. he had amassed great wealth, and his ships were very richly laden. Henry, notwithstanding his situation, could not refuse the generous offer made by the Earl of Surrey. Two ships were immediately fitted out, and put to sea with letters of marque, under his two sons. Sir Thomas and Sir Edward Howard. After encountering a great deal of foul weather, Sir Thomas came up with the Lion, which was commanded by Sir Andrew Barton in person ; and Sir Edward came up with the Union, Barton's other ship [called by Hall, the Bark of Scotland]. The engagement which ensued was extremely obstinate on both sides; but at last the fortune of the Howards prevailed. Sir Andrew was killed, fighting bravely, and encouraging his men with his whistle, to hold out to the last ; and the two Scotch ships, with their crews, were carried into the Biver Thames [Aug. 2, 1511]." (Guthrie's Peerage, as quoted by Percy.) An old copy in the precious Manuscript furnished the foundation for Percy's edition of this noble ballad. The editor states that the text of the original was so incorrect as to require emendations from black-letter copies and from conjecture. These emendations, where they are noted, we have for the most part disregarded- We would fain believe that nothing except a defect in the manuscript could have recon- ciled the Bishop to adopting the four lines with which the ballad now begins. The common, or black-letter copies, are somewhat abridged as well as modernized. One of these is given in the Appendix. SIR ANDREW BARTON. 57 THE FIRST PART. When Flora with her fragrant flowers Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaje, And Neptune with his daintye showers Came to present the monthe of Maye, King Henrye rode to take the ayre, Over the i-iver of Thames past hee ; When eighty merchants of London came, And downe they knelt upon their knee. " O yee are welcome, rich merchants. Good saylors, welcome unto mee : " They swore by the rood, they were saylors good, But rich merchants they cold not bee. " To France nor Flanders dare we pass, Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare ; And all for a robber that lyes on the seas. Who robbs us of our merchant ware." King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde, And swore by the Lord that was mickle \^ might, " 1 thought he had not beene in the world, Durst have wrought England such unrighf* The merchants sighed, and said, "Alas !" And thus they did their answer frame ; 1-4. from the printed copy. 58 SIR ANDREW BARTON. " He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas, And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name." The king lookt over his left shoulder, And an angrje look then looked hee ; " Have I never a lorde in all ray realrae, Will feitch yond traytor unto mee ? " ''^Yea, that dare I," Lord Charles Howard sayes ; " Yea, that dare I, with heart and hand ; If it please your grace to give me leave, Myselfe will be the only man." " Thou art but yong," the kyng replyed, " Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare : '* " Trust me, my liege, He make him quail, Or before my prince I will never appeare." " Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have, And chuse them over my realme so free ; Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes, To guide the great shipp on the sea." The first man that Lord Howard chose, Was the ablest gunner in all the realm, Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten ; Good Peter Simon was his name. " Peter," eais hee, " I must to the sea. To bring home a traytor live or dead ; Before all others I have chosen thee. Of a hundred gunners to be the head." SIR ANDREW BARTON. 59 ''■ If yon, my lord, have chosen mee Of a hundred gunners to be the head, Then hang me up on your maine-mast tree, If I mis>e my marke one shilling bread." My lord then chose a boweraan rare. Whose active hands had gained fame^ ; In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne, And William Horseley was his name. " Horsley," sayd he, " I must with speede Go seeke a tray tor on the sea, And now of a hundred bowemen brave To be the head I have chosen thee." "If you," quoth hee, "have chosen mee Of a hundred bowemen to be the head. On your main-mast He hanged bee, If I miss twelvescore one penny bread." With pikes, and gunnes, and bowemen bold, This noble Howard is gone to the sea ; With a valyant heart and a pleasant clieare, Out at Thames mouth sayled he. And days he scant had sayled three. Upon the journey he tooke in hand, But there he mett with a noble shipp, And stoutely made itt stay and stand. " Thou must tell me," Lord Howard said, " Now who thou art, and what's thy name ; 1 From the printed copy. 60 SIR ANDREW BARTOK. And shewe me wliere thy dwelling is, And whither bound, and whence thou came." " My name is Henry Hunt," quoth hee, With a heavye heart, and a carefull mind ; " I and my shipp doe both belong To the Newcastle that stands upon Tyne." " Hast thou not heard, nowe, Henrye Hunt, As thou hast sayled by daye and by night, Of a Scottish robber on the seas ; Men call him Sir Andrew Barton, knight?'* Then ever he sighed, and sayd " Alas ! " With a grieved mind, and well-away, " But over-well I knowe that wight ; I was his prisoner yesterday. "As I was sayling uppon the sea, A Burdeaux voyage for to fare. To his hach-borde^ he clasped me. And robd me of all my merchant ware. And mickle debts, God wot, I owe, And every man will have his owne, And I am nowe to London bounde. Of our gracious king to beg a boone." ^ That shall not need," Lord Howard sais ; " Lett me but once that robber see, For every penny tane thee froe 1 The MS. has here archborde, but in Part 11. v. 6 hachebord. SIR ANDREW BARTON. 61 It shall be doubled shillings three." ^ Nowe Gode forefend," the merchant said, " That you shold seek soe far amisse ! God keepe you out of that traitors hands ! Full litle ye wott what a man hee is. " Hee is brasse within, and Steele without, With beames on his topcastle stronge ; And eighteen pieces of ordinance He carries on each side along. And he hath a pinnace deerlye dight, St. Andrewes crosse, that is his guide ; His pinnace beareth ninescore men, And fifteen canons on each side. " Were ye twentye shippes, and he but one, I sweare by kirke, and bower, and hall, He wold overcome them everye one,i If once his beames they doe downe fall." " This is cold comfort," sais my lord, " To Wellcome a stranger thus to the sea : 1 It should pppi' fro'Ti hence, that before our marine artillery was brought to its present perfection, some naval commanders had recourse to instruments or machines, simi- lar in use, though perhaps unlike in construction, to the heavy Dolphins made of lead or iron used by the ancient Greeks ; which they suspended from beams or yards fastened to the mast, and which they precipitately let fall on the enemies' ships, in order to sink them, by beating holes through the bottoms of their undecked triremes, or other- wise damaging them. — Percy. 62 SIR ANDREW BARTON. Yet Tie bring him and his shipp to shore, (^r to Scotland hee shall carrje raee." " Then a noble gunner jou must have, And he must aim well with his ee, And sinke his pinnace into the sea, Or else hee never orecorae will bee. And if you chance his shipp to borde, This counsel I must give withall, Let no man to his topcastle goe To strive to let his beams downe fall. "And seven pieces of ordinance, I pray your honour lend to mee, On each side of my shipp along, And I will lead you on the sea. A glasse He sett, that may be scene, Whether you sayle by day or night ; And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke, You shall meet with Sir Andrewe Barton, kniffht." THE SECOND PART. The merchant sett my lorde a glasse, Soe well apparent in his sight, And on the morrowe, by nine of the clocke, He shewed him Sir Andrewe Barton, knight. SIJl ANDREW BARTON. 63 His hachebord it was hached with gold, Soe deerlye dight it dazzled the ee ; " Nowe by my faith," Lord Howarde sais^ " This is a galhuit sight tc see. " Take in your ancyeiits, standards eke. So close that no man may them see; And put me forth a white willowe wand, As merchants use to sayle the sea.'* But they stirred neither top nor mast^ ; Stoutly they past Sir Andrew by; " What English churles are yonder," he sayd, " That can soe litle curtesy e ? " Now by the roode, three yeares and more I have been admirall over the sea, And never an Enolish nor Portin^all Without my leave can passe this way." Then called he forth his stout pinnace ; " Fetch backe yond pedlars nowe to mee : I sweare by the masse, yon English churles Shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." With that the pinnace itt shott off; Full well Lord Howard might it ken ; For itt stroke down my lord's fore-mast, And killed fourteen of his men. " Come hither, Simon," sayes my lord, 1 i. e. did not salute. 6'4 SIR ANDREW BARTON. " Looke that thy word be true, thou said ; For at my main-mast thou shalt hang, If thou misse thy marke one shilling bread." Simon was old, but his heart itt was bold ; His ordinance he laid right lowe, He put in chaine full nine yardes long, "With otlier great shott, lesse and moe. And he lette goe his great gunnes shott ; Soe well he settled itt with his ee. The first sight that Sir Andrew sawe, He see his pinnace sunke in the sea. And when he saw his pinnace sunke. Lord, how his heart with rage did swell ! " Nowe cutt my ropes, itt is time to be gon ; He fetch yond pedlars backe mysell." When my lord sawe Sir Andrewe loose, Within his heart hee was full faine ; " Nowe spread your ancyents, strike up drummes, Sound all your trumpetts out amaine." " Fight on, my men," Sir Andrewe sais, "" Weale, howsoever this geere will sway ; Itt is my lord admirall of England, Is come to seeke mee on the sea." Simon had a sonne, who shott right well, That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare ; In att his decke he gave a shott. Killed threescore of his men of warre. SIR ANDRETV BARTON. 65 Then Heniye Hunt, with rigour hott, Came bravely on the other side ; Soone lie drove downe his fore-mast tree, And killed fourscore men beside. ■' Nowe, out alas ! " Sir Andrewe cryed, " What may a man now thinke or say ? Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee, He was my prisoner yesterday. *' Come hither to me, thou Gordon good. That aye wast readye att my call ; I will give thee three hundred pounds, If thou wilt let my beames downe fall." Lord Howard hee then calld in haste, " Horselye, see thou be true in stead ; For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang, If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread." Then Gordon swarved the maine-mast tree. He swarved it with might and maine ; But Horseley with a bearing arrowe. Stroke the Gordon through the braine ; And he fell unto the hacbes again, And sore his deadlye wounde did bleede : Then word went through Sir Andrews men, How that the Gordon hee was dead. " Come hither to mee, James Hambihon, Thou art my only sisters sonne ; tf thou wilt let my beames downe fiall, VOL. VII. 5 6G SIR ANDREW BARTON. Six hundred nobles^ thou hast wonne." With thafhe swarved the main-mast tree, He swarved it with nimble art ; But Horseley with a broad arrowe Piened the Hambilton thorough the heart. And downe he fell upon the deck, That with his blood did streame amaine : Then every Scott cryed, " Well-away ! Alas a comelye youth is slaine ! " All woe begone was Sir Andrew then, With griefe and rage his heart did swell; " Go fetch me forth my armour of proofs, For I will to the topcastle mysell. " Goe fetch me forth my armour of proofe, That gilded is with gold soe cleare ; God be with my brother John of Barton ! Against the Portingalls hee it ware. And when he had on this armour of proofe, He was a gallant sight to see ; Ah ! nere didst thou meet with living wight, My deere brother, could cope with thee.'* '* Come hither, Horseley," sayes my lord, "•And looke your shaft that itt goe right ; Shoot a good shoote in time of need, And for it thou shalt be made a knight." 1 pounds. MS. SIR ANDREW BARTON. 67 ** He shoot my best," quoth Ilorseley then, *" Your honour shall see, with might and maine ; But if I were hanged at your maine-mast, I have now left but arrowes twaine." Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree, With right good will he swarved then , Upon his breast did Horseley hitt, But the arrow bounded back agen. Then Horseley spyed a privye place, With a perfect eye, in a secrette part ; Under the spole of his right arme He smote Sir Andrew to the heart. " Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes, "A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine ; He but lye downe and bleede a while, And then He rise and fio;ht a^-aine. ^ Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes, "And never flinche before the foe ; And stand fast by St. Andrewes crosse, Untill you heare my whistle blowe." They never heard his whistle blow, Which made their hearts waxe sore adread : Then Horseley sayd, "Aboard, my lord, For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead." 1 This stanza occurs also in Joknie Armstrang, vcl. vi. p. 44. 68 SIR ANDREW BARTON. They boarded then his noble shipp, They boarded it with might and maine; Eighteen score Scots ahve they found, The rest were either maimed or slaine. Lord Howard tooke a sword in hand, And off he smote Sir Andrewes head ; " I must have left England many a daye, If thou wert alive as thou art dead." lie caused his body to be cast Over the liatchbord into the sea, And about his middle three hundred crownes : " Wherever thou land, this will bury thee." Thus from the warres Lord Howard came, And backe he sayled ore the maine; With mickle joy and triumphing Into Thames mouth he came againe. Lord Howard then a letter wrote, And sealed it Avith seale and ring ; " Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace As never did subject to a king. •* Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with mee, A braver shipp was never none ; Nowe hath your grace two shipps of warr, Before in England was but one.^" 1 That is the Great Harry, built in 1504, at an expense of fourteen thousand pounds. " She Avas," says Hume, "properly speaking, the first ship in the English navy. Be- SIR ANDREW BARTON. 69 King Henryes grace with royall cheere Welcomed the noble Howard home ; "And where," said he, " is this rover stout, That I myselfe may give the doome ? " " The rover, he i.^ safe, my leige, Full many a fadom in the sea; If he were alive as he is dead, I must have left England many a day. And your grace may thank four men i' the ship For the victory wee have wonne ; These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt, And Peter Simon, and his sonne." " To Henry Hunt," the king then sayd, " In lieu of what was from thee tane, A noble a day now thou shalt have, Sir Andrevves jewels and his chayne. And Horseley thou shalt be a knight, And lands and livings shalt have store ; Howard shall be Erie Surrye hight, As Howards erst have beene before.^ " Nowe, Peter Simon, thou art old, I will maintaine thee and thy sonne ; fore this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no other expedient than hiring or pressing ships from the mer- chants." ^ Erie of Nottingham, And soe was never, &c. 70 SIR ANDREW BARTOX. And the men shall have five hundred markes For the good service they have done." Then in came the queene with ladyes fair, To see Sir Andrewe Barton, knight ; They weend that hee were brought on shore, And thought to have seen a gallant sight. But when they see his deadlye face, And eyes soe hollow in his head, " I wold give," quoth the king, *' a thousand markes. This man were alive as hee is dead. Yett for the manfull part hee playd. Which fought soe well with heart and hand. His men shall have twelvepence a day. Till they come to my brother kings high land." FLODDEN FIELD. 71' FLODDEN FIELD. From Kitson's Ancient Sonr/s, ii. 70. "The battle of Flodden, in Northumberland, was fought the 9th of September, 1513, being the fifth year of King Henry the Eighth (who, with a great army, was then before Terouen in France), between Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, commander-in-chief of the English forces, and James the Fourth, Iving of Scots, with an inferior army of 15,000 men, who were entirely routed with great slaughter, their heroic sove- reign being left dead upon the field. " The following ballad may possibly be as ancient as any thing we have on the subject. It is given from The most pleasant and delectible history of Jo?in Winch- comb^ otherwise called JacJc of Newberry, written by Thomas Deloney, who thus speaks of it: 'In disgrace of the Scots, and in remembrance of the famous atchieved victory, the commons of England made this song, which to this day is not forgotten of many.' " This ballad is very evidently not the work of De- loney, but derived by him from tradition. There is a piece called Flodden Field in Herd's Scot- tish Songs, 1. 86. It isniade up of certain ridiculous anonymous verses, and of the stanzas written by Misa Jane Elliot and by Mrs. Cockburn to the old air 7'he Flowers of the Forest, — "I've heard them lilting," and " I've seen the smiling." The first and last lines of the first stanza of Miss Elliot's verses are from an ancient and now forgotten sons:. 72 FLODDEN FIELD. "I've heard them lilting at the ewes milking The flowers of the forest are a' wede away." A lady repeated to Sir Walter Scott another frag- ment of the original ballad. " I ride single on my saddle, For the flowers of the forest are a' wede away." Minstrelsy, iii. 333 King Jamie hath made a vow, Keep it well if he may ! That he will be at lovely London Upon Saint James his day. " Upon Saint James his day at noon, At fair London will I be. And all the lords in merry Scotland, They shall dine there with me." Then bespake good Queen Margaret, The tears fell from her eye : " Leave off these wars, most noble king, Keep your fidelity. " The water runs swift and wondrous deep From bottom unto the brim ; My brother Henry hath men good enough, England is hard to win." FLODDEN FIELD. 73 "Away," quoth he, " with this silly fool ! In prison fast let her lye : For she is come of the English blood, And for these words she shall die." With that bespake Lord Thomas Howard, The Queens chamberlain that day ; " If that you put Queen Margaret to death, Scotland shall rue it alway." Then in a rage King Jamie did say, "Away with this foolish mome ! He shall be hang'd, and the other burn'd. So soon as I come home." At Flodden-field the Scots came in, Which made our Englishmen fain ; At Bramstone-green this battel was seen. There was King Jamie slain. Then presently the Scots did fly. Their cannons they left behind ; Their ensigns gay were won all away. Our souldiers did beat them blind. To tell you plain, twelve thousand were slain That to the fight did stand. And many a prisoner took that day, The best in all Scotland. 74 QUEEN JEANIE. That clay made many a fatherless child,^ And many a widow poor, And many a Scottish gay hidy Sate weeping ^ in her bower. Jack with a feiher was lapt all in lether, His boastings were all in vain ; He had such a chance with [a] new morrice- dance, He never went home a";ain. QUEEN JEANIE. Jane Seymour, queen of Henry VIH, died shortly after giving birth to Prince Edward (Oct. 1537). There was a report that the Caesarian operation had been necessary to effect the dehvery, and on thig story the present ballad is founded. There is a woful ditty on this subject in Tlie Crown Garland of Golden Roses, Percy Society, vol. vi. p. 29 (or Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 115). The following piece is popular throughout Scotland. It is taken from Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 116, A fragment had been previously published in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, i. 182. We have added another, but imperfect, version from a recent publication. 1 This stanza is the sixth in Deloney's copy, and is there clearly misplaced. 2 sweeping. QUEEN JEANIE. 75 Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, travel'd six weeks and more, Till women and midwives had quite gi'en her o'er ; " O if ye were women as women should be, Ye would send for a doctor, a doctor to me ! " The doctor was called for and set by her bed- side, " What aileth thee, my ladie, thine eyes seem so red?" " O doctor, O doctor, will ye do this for me, To rip up my two sides, and save my babie ? " " Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that's the thing I'll ne'er do, To rip up your two sides to save your babie : " Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, travel'd six weeks and more. Till midwives and doctors had quite gi'en her o'er. " if ye were doctors as doctors should be, Ye would send for King Henry, King Henry to me:" King Henry was called for, and sat by her bed- side, " What aileth thee, Jeanie, what aileth my bride? " " King Henry, King Henry, will ye do this for me, To rip up my two sides, and save my babie ? " 76 QUEEN JEANIE. " Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that's what I'll never do, To rip up jour two sides to save your babie." But with sighing and sobbing she's fallen in a swoon, Her side it was ript up, and her babie was found ; At this bonie babie's christ'ning there was meikle joy and mirth. But bonnie Queen Jeanie lies cold in the earth. Six and six coaches, and six and six more. And royal King Henry went mourning before ; O two and two gentlemen carried her away, But royal King Henry went weeping away. O black were their stockings, and black were their bands. And black were the weapons they held in their hands ; O black were their mufflers, and black were their shoes, And black were the cheverons they drew on their luves. They mourned m the kitchen, and they moum'd in the ha', But royal King Henry mourn'd langest of a'. Farewell to fair England, farewell for evermore, For the fair flower of England will never shine more! THE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE. 77 TPIE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE. From Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Sovgs of the Peasantry of England, edited by Robert Bell. p. 113. TaKen down from the singing of a young gipsy girl. Queen Jane was in travail for six weeks or more, Till the women grew tired and fain would give o'er, " O women, O women, good wives if ye be, Go send for King Hem-ie, and bring him to me !'* King Henrie was sent for, he came with all speed, In a gownd of green velvet from heel to the head ; " King Henrie, King Henrie, if kind Henrie you be. Send for a surgeon, and bring him to me ! " The surgeon was sent for, he came with all speed, In a gownd of black velvet from heel to the head ; He gave her rich caudle, but the death-sleep slept she. Then her right side was opened, and the babe was set free. The babe it was christened, and put out and nursed. While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the dust. 78 THE MURDER OF THE KING OP SCOTS. So black was the mourning, and white were the wands, Yellow, yellow the torches they bore in their hands ; The bells they were muffled, and mournful did play, Wliile the. royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the clay. Six knights and six lords bore her corpse through the grounds, Six dukes followed after, in black mourning gownds, The flower of Old England was laid in cold clay. Whilst the royal King Henrie came weeping away. THE MURDER OF THE KING OF SCOTS. Reliques of Ancient English Poetry^ ii. 210. " The catastrophe of Henry Stewart, Lord Darn- ley, the uniortunate husband of Mary Queen of Scots, is the subject of this ballad. It is here related in that partial imperfect manner, in which such an event would naturally strike the subjects of another king- dom, of which he was a native. Henry appears to have been a vain, capricious, worthless young maOf THE MURDER OF THE KING OF SCOTS. 79 of weak understanding, and dissolute morals. But the beauty of bis person, and the inexperience of his youth, would dispose mankind to treat him with an indulgence, which the cruelty of his murder would afterwards convert into the most tender pity and regret : and then imagination would not fail to adorn his memory with all those virtues he ought to have possessed. " Darnley, who had been born and educated in England, was but In his 21st year when he was mur- dered, Feb. 9, 1567-8. This crime was perpetrated by the Earl of Bothwell, not out of respect to the memory of Riccio, but in order to pave the way for his own marriage with the queen. " This ballad (printed, wilh a few corrections, from the Editor's folio MS.) seems to have been written soon after Mary's escape Into England In 1568, see p. 82. — It will be remembered, at v. 5, that this princess was Queen Dowager of France, having been first married to Francis II., who died Dec. 4, 1560. — Percy. Woe worth, woe worth thee, false Scotlande ! For thou hast ever wrought by sleight ; The worthyest prince that ever was borne, You hanged under a cloud by night. The Queene of France a letter wrote, And sealed itt with harte and rinfje ; 4nd bad*^ him come Scotland within, A.nd shee wold marry and crowne him kinge, 80 THE MURDER OF THE KING OF SCOTS. To be a king is a pleasant thing, To bee a prince unto a peere : But you have heard, and soe have I too, A man may well buy gold too deare. There was an Italyan in that place, Was as well beloved as ever was hee, Lord David [Rizzio] was his name, Chamberlaine to the queene was hee. If the king had risen forth of his place, He wold have sate him downe in the cheare, And tho itt beseemed him not so well, Altho the kinge had beene present there. Some lords in Scotlande waxed wrothe, And quarrelled with him for the nonce ; I shall you tell how it befell, Twelve daojofers were in him att once. *oo" When the queene saw her chamberlaine was slaine, For him her faire cheeks shee did weete, Arid made a vowe, for a yeare and a day The king and shee wold not come in one sheete. Then some of the lords they waxed wrothe. And made their vow all vehementlye, For the death of the queenes chamberlaine, The kmg himselfe, how he shall dye. THE MURDER OF THE KING OF SCOTS. 81 With gun-powder they strewed his roome, ' And layd greene rushes in his way ; For the traitors thought that ve]y night This worthye king for to betray. To bedd the king he made him bowne ; To take his rest was his desire ; He was noe sooner cast on sleepe, But his chamber was on a biasing fire. Up he lope, and the window brake, And hee had thirtye foote to fall ; Lord Bodwell kept a privy watch. Underneath his castle wall. " Who have wee here ? " Lord Bodwell sayd ; " Now answer me, that I may know." " King Henry the eighth my uncle was ; For his sweete sake some pitty show." " Who have we here?" Lord Bodwell sayd; " Now answer me when I doe speake." " Ah, Lord Bodwell, I know thee well ; Some pitty on me I pray thee take." ■' He pitty thee as much," he sayd, " And as much favor show to thee, A-s thou didst to the queenes chamberlaine, Thai day thou deemedst him to die." VOL. yii. 6 82 THE RISING IN THE NORTH. Through halls and towers the king they ledd, Through towers and castles that were nye, Through an arbor into an orchard, There on a peare-tree hanged him hye. When the governor of Scotland heard How that the worthye king was slaine, He persued the .queen so bitterlye, That in Scotland shee dare not remaine. But shee is fledd into merry England, And here her residence hath taine, And through the Queene of Englands grace, In Endand now shee doth remaine. THE RISING IN THE NORTH. Percy's Reliques, i. 285. The subject of this ballad is the insurrection of the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, in the twelfth year of Queen Elizabeth, 1569. These two noblemen were the leaders of the Cath- olic party in the North of England, and interested themselves wa»;mly in various projects to restore Mary THE RISING IN THE NORTH. 83 Stuart to her liberty. When a marriage was proposed between the Duke of Norfolk and the Scottish Queen, they, with many of the first persons in the kingdom, entered zealously into the scheme, having the ulterior view, according to Hume, of placing Mary on the throne of England. Norfolk endeavored to conceal his plans from Elizabeth, until he should form a com- bination powerful enough to extort her consent, but the Queen receive! information betimes, and commit- ted the Duke to the Tower. Several of his abettors were also taken into custody, and the two Northern Earls were summoned to appear at court, to answer to the charge of an intended rebellion. They had proceeded too far to trust themselves willingly in the hands of their enraged sovereign, and the summons precipitated them into an insurrection for which they were not prepared. . They hastily gathered their followers, and published a manifesto, in which they declared that they maintained an unshaken allegiance to the Queen, and sought only to re'establish the religion of their ancestors, and to restore the Duke of Norfolk to liberty and to the Queen's favor. " Their common banner (on which was displayed the cross, together with the five wounds of Christ,) was borne by an ancient gentleman, Richard Norton, Esq., of Norton-Conyers : who with his sons (among whom, Christopher, Marmaduke, and Thomas, ai'e expressly named by Camden) distinguished himself on this occasion. Having entered Durham, they tore the Bible, &c., and caused mass to be said there : they then marched on to Clifford Moor near Wetherbye, where they mustered their men. Their intention was to have proceeded on to York; but, altering their 84 THE RISING IN THE NORTH. minds, they fell upon Barnard's castle, wliich Sir George Bowes held out against them for eleven days.** — Percy. The insurgents' army amounted to about six thou- sand men. The Earl of Sussex, supported by Lord Hunsdon and others, marched against them with seven thousand, and the Earl of Warwick Avith still greater farces. Before these superior numbers the rebels dispersed without striking a blow. Northum- berland fled to the Scots, by whom, as we shall see in the next ballad, he was betrayed to Elizabeth. The Earl of Westmoreland escaped to Flanders, and died there in penury. Another outbreak following close upon the above was suppressed by Lord llunsdon. Great cruelties were exercised by the victorious party, no less than eight hundred having, it is said, sufiered by the hands of the executioner. The ballad was printed by Percy from two MS. copies, one of them in the editor's folio collection. " They contained considerable variations, out of which such readings were chosen as seemed most poetical and consonant to history." '' The Fate of the Kortons," we need hardly say, forms the subject of Wordsworth's White Doe of Rylstone. Listen, lively lordlings all, Lithe and listen unto mee, ^d I will sing of a noble earle, The noblest earle in the north countiie. THE RISING IN THE NORTH. 85 Earle Parcy is into his garden gone, And after him walkes his fivve ladie: *• I heard a bird sing in mine eare, That I must either fight or flee." " Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord, That ever such harm should hap to thee ; But goe to London to the court, And faire fall truth and honestie." ** Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay;, Alas ! thy counsell suits not mee ; Mine enemies prevail so fast, That at the court I may not bee." " goe to the court jet, good my lord, And take thy gallant men with thee ; If any dare to doe you wrong. Then your warrant they may bee." " Now nay, now nay, thou lady faire, The court is full of subtiltie ; And if I goe to the court, lady, Never more I may thee see." " Yet goe to the court, my lord," she sayes, "And I myselfe will ride wi' thee : At court then for my dearest lord. His faithfull borrowe I will bee." 8G THE RISING IN THE NORTH. Now nay, now nay, my lady deare ; Far lever bad I lose my life, Than leave among my cruell foes My love in jeopardy and strife. " But come thou hither, my little foot-page^ Come thou hither unto mee ; To maister Norton thou must goe In all the haste that ever may bee. " Commend me to that gentleman. And beare this letter here fro mee ; And say that earnestly I praye. He will ryde in my companie." One while the little foot-page went. And another while he ran ; Untill he came to his journeys end The httle foot-page never blan. When to that gentleman he came, Down he kneeled on his knee, And tooke the letter betwixt his hands, And iett the gentleman it see. And when the letter it was redd Affore that goodlye companye, I-wis, if you the truthe wold know, There was many a weepynge eye. THE RISING IN THE NORTH. 87 He sayd, " Come hither, Christopher Norton, A gallant youth thou seemst to bee ; What doest thou counsell me, my sonne, Now that good erle's in jeopardy?" " Father, my counselle's fair and free ; That erle he is a noble lord, And whatsoever to him you hight, I wold not have you breake your word." " Gramercy, Christopher, my sonne, Thy counsell well it liketh mee, And if we speed and scape with life. Well advanced shalt thou bee." "• Come you hither, mine nine good sonnes, ' Gallant men I trowe you bee : How many of you, my children deare, Will stand by that good erle and mee ? " Eight of them did answer make, Eight of them spake hastilie, ** O father, till the daye we dye We'll stand by that good erle and thee." 1 The Act of Attainder, 13th Elizabeth, only mentions Richard Norton, the father, and seven sons, and in " a list of the rebels in the late Northern rebellion that are fled beyond seas," the same seven sons are named. Richard Norton, tbe father, was living long after the rebellion in Spanish Fivinders. See Sharp's Bishoprick Garland, p. 10. OO THE RISING IN THE NORTH. " Gramercj now, my children deare, You sliowe yourselves right bold and brave ; And whethersoe'er I live or dye, A fathers blessing you shal have." " But what sa}st thou, Francis Norton ? Thou art mine oldest sonn and heire ; Somewhat lyes brooding in thy breast; Whatever it bee, to mee declare." " Father, you are an aged man ; Your head is white, your bearde is gray ; It were a shame at these your yeares For you to ryse in such a fray." *' Now fye upon thee, coward Francis, Thou never learnedst this of mee ; When thou wert yong and tender of age, Why did I make soe much of thee ? " ** But, father, I will wend with you, Unarm'd and naked will I bee ; And he that strikes against the crowne, Ever an ill death may he dee." Then rose that reverend gentleman. And with him came a goodlye band, To join with the brave Erie Percy, And all the flower o' Northumberland. THE RISING 7N THE NORTH. 89 With them the noble Nevill came, The erle of "Westmorland was hee : At Wetherbye they mustred their host, Tliirteen thousand faire to see. Lord Westmorland his ancyent raisde, The DunBulP he rays'd on hye, And three Dogs with golden collars Were there sett out most royallye. Erie Percy there his ancyent spred. The Halfe-Moone" shining all soe faire : 1 The supporters of the Nevilles Earls of Westmore- land were two bulls argent, ducally collar' d gold, armed or, &c. But I have not discovered the device mentioned in the ballad, among the badges, &c., given by that house. This however is certain, that, among those of the Nevilles, Lord Abergavenny (who were of the same family), is a dun cow with a golden collar; and the Nevilles of Chyte in Yorkshire (of the Westmoreland branch), gave for their crest, in 1513, a dog's (greyhound's) head erased. — So that it is not improbable but Charles Neville, the unhappy Earl of Westmoreland here mentioned, might on this occasion give the above device on his banner. — After all, our old min- strel's verses here may have undergone some corruption ; for, in another ballad in tlie same folio MS., and apparently written by the same hand, containing the sequel of this Lord Westmoreland's history, his banner is thus described, more conformable to his known bearings: *' Sett me xip my faire Dun Bull, With Gilden Horjies, hee beares all soe hyej'^ — P. ^ The Silver Crescent is a well-known cicst or badge of the Northumberland family. It was probably brought ^me from s-Dme of the crusades against the Sarazens — P. 90 THE RISING IN THE NORTH. Tlie Nortons ancjent had the crosse. And the five wounds our Lord did beare. Then Sn* George Bowes he straitwaye rose, After them some spoyle to make ; Those noble erles turn'd backe again e, And aye they vowed that knight to take. That baron he to his castle fled To Barnard castle then fled hee ; The uttermost walles were eathe to win, The carles have won them presentlie. The uttermost walles were lime and bricke, But thoughe they won them soon anone, Long e'er they wan the innermost walles, For they were cut in rocke of stone. Then newes unto leeve London came. In all the speede that ever might bee, And word is brought to our royall queene Of the rysing in the North countrie. Her grace she turned her round about. And like a royall queene shee swore, " I will ordayne them such a breakfast. As never was in the North before." Shee caus'd thirty thousand men be rays'd, With horse and harneis faire to see ; THE RISING IX THE NORTH. 91 She caused thirty thousand men be raised, To take the earles i' th' North countrie. Wi' them the false Erie Warwick went, Th' Erie Sussex and the Lord Hunsden ; Until] they to Yorke castle came, I-wiss they never stint ne blan. Now spred thy ancyent, Westmorland, Thy dun bull faine would we spye : And thou, the Erie o' Northumberland, Now rayse thy half moone up on hye. But the dun bulle is fled and gone, And the halfe moone vanished away : The erles, though they were brave and bold, Against soe many could not stay. Thee, Norton, wi* thine eight good sonnes. They doom'd to dye, alas for ruth ! Thy reverend lockes thee could not save. Nor them their faire and blooming youthe. Wi' them full many a gallant wight They cruellye bereav'd of life : And many a childe made fatherlesse. And widowed many a tender wife. 92 NURTHUilBERLAND NORTHUMBERLAND BETRaYEI' 3Y DOUGLAS. Percy's Reliques, i. 295. The Earls of Xorthumberland and Westmoreland, after the dispersion of their forces took refuge with the Scots on the Borders. The Elliots drove them from Liddesdale, and they sought the protection of the Armstrongs in the Debatable Land. Northum- berland took up his residence w4th a man of that tribe called Hector of Harlaw, rclj-ing on his plighted faith and on his gratitude for many past favors. By this miscreant the Earl was betrayod for money to the Regent Murray. He '""^<- " Ladj, I never loved witchcraft, Never dealt in privj wyle ; But evermore held the higli-waye Of truth and honour, free from guile." " If you'll not come yourselfe, my lorde, Yet send your chamberlaine with mee , Let me but speak three words with him. And he shall come again to thee." James Swynard with that lady went. She showed him through the weme of her ring How many English lords there were Waiting for his master and him. "And who walkes yonder, my good lady. So royallye on yonder greene ?" "O yonder is the Lord Hunsden^: Alas ! he'll doe you drie and teene " "And who beth yonder, thou gay ladye. That walkes so proudly him beside ? " " That is Sir William Drury,"^ shee sayd, "A keene captaine hee is and tryde." " How many miles is itt, madame. Betwixt yond English lords and mee ? " 1 The Lord Warden of the East Marches.— P. 2 Goveruor of Berwick. — P. BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 99 ** JVlarry, it is thrice fifty miles, To saile to them upon the sea. " I never was on English ground, Ne never sawe it with mine eye, But as my book it sheweth mee, And through my ring I may descrye. " My mother shee was a witch ladye, And of her skille she learned mee ; She wold let me see out of Lough-leven What they did in London citie." " But who is yond, thou lady faire. That looketh with sic an austerne face ? " " Yonder is Sir John Foster,"^ quoth shee, " Alas ! he'll do ye sore disgrace." He pulled his hatt downe over his browe ; He wept, in his heart he was full of woe ; And he is gone to his noble lord, Those sorrowful tidings him to show. " Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard, I may not believe that witch ladie ; The Douglasses were ever true. And they can ne'er prove false to mee. ^ Warden of the Middle-march. — P 100 NORTHUMBERLAND " I have now in Lough-leven been The most part of these years three, Yett have I never had noe outrake, Ne no good games that I cold see. " Therefore I'll to yond shootmg wend, As to the Douglas I have hight : Betide me weale, betide me woe, He ne'er shall find my promise light,* He writhe a gold ring from his finger. And gave itt to that gay ladie : Sayes, " It was all that I cold save. In Harley woods where I cold bee." "And wilt thou goe, thou noble lord? Then farewell truth and honestie, And farewell heart, and farewell hand. For never more I shall thee see." The wind was faire, the boatmen call'd, And all the saylors were on borde ; Then William Douglas took to his boat, And with him went that noble lord. Then he cast up a silver wand. Says, " Gentle lady, fare thee well !** The lady fett a sigh soe deep. And in a dead swoone down shee fell. BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 101 »* Now let US goe back, Douglas," he sayd, " A sickness hath taken yond faire ladie ; If ought befall yond lady but good, Then blamed for ever I shall bee." " Come on, come on, my lord," he sayes, " Come on, come on, and let her bee ; There's ladyes enow m Lough-leven For to cheere that gay ladie." " If you'll not turne yourself, my lord, Let me goe with my chamberlaine ; We will but comfort that faire lady, And wee will return to you againe." " Come on, come on, my lord," he sayes, " Come on, come on, and let her bee ; My sister is craftye, and wold beguile A thousand such as you and mee.'* * When they had sayled fifty myle, Now fifty mile upon the sea, Hee sent his man to ask the Douglas, When they shold that shooting see." ^ Faire words," quoth he, " they make fooles faine, And that by thee and thy lord is seen ; You may hap to thinke itt soone enough, Ere you that shooting reach, I ween." [02 NORTHUMBERLAND, ETC. Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe, He thought his lord then was betray'd ; And he is to Erie Percy againe, To tell him what the Douglas sajd. " Hold upp thy head, man," quoth his lord, " Nor therefore lett thy courage fayle ; He did it but to prove thy heart, To see if he cold make it quail." When they had other fifty sayld. Other fifty mile upon the sea. Lord Percy called to Douglas himselfe, Sayd, " What wilt thou nowe doe with mee ? * " Looke that your brydle be wight, my lord. And your horse goe swift as shipp att sea ; Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe, That you may pricke her while shee'll away." '• What needeth this, Douglas ? " he sayth ; " What needest thou to flyte with mee ? For I was counted a horseman good Before that ever I mett with thee. ** A false Hector hath my horse, Who dealt with mee so treacherouslie ; A false Armstrong hath my spurres. And all the geere belongs to mee." KING OF SCOTS, ETC. 103 When they had sayled other fifty mile, Other fifty mile upon the sea, They landed low by Berwicke side, A deputed laird ^ landed Lord Percye. Then he at Yorke was doomde to die, It was, alas ! a sorrowful sight ; Thus they betrayed that noble earle, Who ever was a gallant wight. KING OF SCOTS AND ANDREW BROWNR From Reliques of English Poetry^ ii. 217. " This ballad is a proof of the little intercourse that subsisted between the Scots and English, before the accession of James I. to the crown of England. The tale which is here so circumstantially related, does not appear to have had the least foundation in history, but was probably built upon some confused hearsay report of the tumults in Scotland during the minority of that prince, and of the conspiracies formed by different factions to get possession of his person. It should seem from ver. 97 to have been written during the regency, or at least before the death, of the Earl of Morton, who was condemned and executed June 2, 1581 ; when James was in his fifteenth year. " The original copy (preserved in the archives of ^ fol. MS. reads land, and has not the folio wicg stanza. tOA KING OF SCOTS the Antiquarian Society, London,) is entitled, A new ballad, declaring the great treason conspired against the young king of Scots, and how one Andrew Browne, an English-man, which was the king's chamherlaine, prevented the same. To the tune of Miljield, or els to Green-sleeves. At the end is subjoined the name of the author, W. Elderton. ' Imprinted at London Tor Yarathe James, dwelling in Newgate Market, over against Ch. Church,' in black-letter folio." — Percy. This ballad was licensed to James on the 30th of May, 1581. Out alas ! what a griefe is this. That princes subjects cannot be true, But still the devill hath some of his, Will play their parts whatsoever ensue ; Forgetting what a grievous thing It is to offend the anointed king! Alas for woe, why should it be so? This makes a sorrowful heigh ho. In Scotland is a bonnie kinge. As proper a youth as neede to be, Well given to every happy thing, That can be in a kinge to see : Yet that unluckie country still. Hath people given to craftie will. / Alas for woe, &c. On Whitsun eve it so befell, A posset was made to give the king, AND ANDREW BROWNE. 105 Whereof his ladit} nurse hard tell, And that it was a poysoned thing : She cryed, and called piteouslie, " Now help, or else the king shall die I ** Alas for woe, &c. One Browne, that was an English man, And hard the ladies piteous crye, Out with his sword, and lestir'd him than, Out of the doores in haste to flie ; But all the doores were made so fast, Out r--" - v;indow he got at last. Alas i'or woe, &<\ He met the bishop coming fast. Having the posset in his hande : The sight of Browne made him aghast. Who bad him stoutly stale and stand. With him were two that ranne awa, For feare that Browne would make a fray. Alas, for woe, &c. ** Bishop," quoth Browne, " what hast thou there? '' " Nothing at all, my friend," sayde he, '' But a posset to make the king good cheere." " Is it so ? " sayd Browne, " that will I see. First I will have thyself begin. Before thou go any further in ; Be it weale or woe, it shall be so. This makes a sorronful heigh hoo'* 106 KING OF SCOTS The bishop sajde, "Browne, I doo know, Thou art a young man poore and bare ; Livings on thee I will bestowe ; Let me go on, take thou no care." " No, no," quoth Browne, " I will not be A traitour for all Christiantie: Happe well or woe, it shall be so. Drink now with a sorrowfuU," &c. The bishop dranke, and by and by His belly burst and he fell downe • A just rewarde for his traitery ! "This was a posset indeed," quoth Brown. He serched the bishop, and found the keyes, To come to the kinge when he did please. Alas for woe, &c. As soon as the king got word of this, He humbly fell uppon his knee, And praysed God that he did misse To tast of that extremity : For that he did perceive and know, His clergie would betray him so : Alas for woe, &c. * meet him at Haddington, and answer for his conduct in trea* ing him with such opprobrium. " Gang awa back," said Mr. Skirving to the messenger, " and tell Mr. Smith, 1 have nae leisure to gae to Haddington, but if he likes to come here, I'U tak a look o' him, and if I think I can fecht him, I'll fecht him, and if no — I'll just do as he did at Preston— I'll rji; awa\" Stexhouse. 172 THE BATTLE OF TRANENT-MUIB, To Berwick rade, and safely said, The Scots were rebels a', man. But let that end, for well 'tis kend His use and wont to lie, man ; The Teague is naught, he never faught, When he had room to flee, man. And Caddell drest, amaiig the rest, With gun and good claymore, man. On gelding grey he rode that way, With pistols set before, man ; The cause was good, he'd spend his blood, Before that he would yield, man ; But the night before, he left the cor, And never fac'd the field, man. But gallant Roger, like a soger. Stood and bravely fought, man ; I'm wae to tell, at last he fell. But mae down wi' him brought, man At point of death, wi' his last breath, (Some standing round in ring, man,) On's back lying flat, lie wav'd his hat. And cry'd, God save the King, man. Some Highland rogues, like hungry dogs, Neglecting to pursue, man, About they fac'd, and in great haste Upon thg booty flew, man ; And they, as gain for all their pain. OR OF PRESTON-PANS. 173 Are deck'd wi' spoils of war, man •, Fu' bald can tell how hernainsell Was ne'er sae pra before, man. At the thorn-tree, which you may see Bewest the meadow-mill, man, There mony slain lay on the plain. The clans pursuing still, man. Sick unco' hacks, and deadly whacks, I never saw the like, man ; Lost hands and heads cost them their deads, That fell near Preston-dyke, man. That afternoon, wnen a was aone, I gaed to see the fray, man ; But had I wist what after past, I'd better staid away, man : On Seaton sands, wi' nimble hands, They pick'd my pockets bare, man; But I wish ne'er to drie sick fear, For a' the sum and mair, man. APPENDIX. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN. 177 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN. See p. 5. In the versions of this ballad given in 1:he body of this work, the Earl of Douglas is represented as falling by the hand of Harry Percy. In the ballad which follows, taken from Herd's iScottish Songs, i. 211, his death is ascribed to the revenge of an offended ser- vant. Though there is not the slightest reason to give credence to this story, it has a certain foun- dation in tradition. Hume of Godscroft writes " there are that say, that he [Douglas] was not slain by the enemy, but by one of his own men, a groom of his chamber, whom he had struck the day before with a truncheon, in ordering of the battle, because he saw him make somewhat slowly to. And they name this man John Bickerton of Luf!hess, who left a part of his armour behind unfastened, and when he was in the greatest conflict, this servant of his came behind his back, and slew him thereat." Win- town says that the Rarl was so intent on marshalling his forces, and so eager to be at the foe, that he neg- lected to arm himself carefully. — Scott's Minstrelsy^ I. 350. It fell, and about the Lammas time, AVlien husbandmen do win their hay^ Earl Douglas is to the English woods, And a' with him to fetch a prey. VOL. VIL 12 178 THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN. He has chosen the Lindsays light, With them the gallant Gordons gay, And the Earl of Fyfe, withouten strife, And Sir Hugh Montgomery upon a grey. They hae taken Northumberland, And sae hae they the North-shire, And the Otter-dale, they burnt it hale, And set it a' into the fire. Out then spack a bonny boy,i That serv'd ane o' Earl Douglas kin, " Methinks 1 see an English host, A-eoming branken us upon." " If this be true, my little boy, An It be troth that thou tells me. The bra west bower in Otterburn This day shafM be th)- morning fee. " But if it be false, my little boy. But and a lie that thou tells me, 1 At this place a recited copy, quoted by Finlay {Scotiish Ballads, I. p. xviil. ), has the following stanzas : — Then out an spak a little wee boy, And he was near o' Percy's kin, " Methinks I see the English host, A-coming branking iis upon : Wi' nine waggons scaling wide, And seven banners bearing high ; It wad do any living gude To see their bonny colours fly. THE BATTLE OF OTTER BURN. 179 On the highest tree that's in Otterburn With my awin hands I'll hing thee hie.** The boy's taen out his little penknife, That hanget low down by his gare, And he gae Earl Douglas a deadly wound, Alas, a deep wound and a sare 1 Earl Douglas said to Sir Hugh Montgomery, "• Tack thou the vanguard o' the three, And bury me at yon bracken bush, That stands upon yon lilly lee." Ilien Percy and Montgomery met, And weel 1 wat they war na fain ; They swapped swords, and they twa swat, And ay the blood ran down between. " O yield thee, yield thee, Percy," he said, " Or else 1 vow I'll lay thee low ; ' " Whom to shall I yield," said Earl Percy, " Now that I see it maun be so ? " " yield thee to yon braken bush, That grows upon yon lilly lee ; 1 For there liesaneth yon braken bush What aft has conquer'd mae than thee.** " I winna }neld to a braken bush. Nor yet will I unto a brier; But I wald yield to Earl Douglas, Or Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he was here.*' ' Supplied by JIotherweM from a recited copy 180 THE BATTLE OF HAELAW. As soon as lie knew it was Montgomery, He stuck his sword's point in tlie ground, And Sir Hugh Montgomery was a courteous knight. And he quickly caught him by the hand. This deed was done at Otterburn, About the breaking o' the day ; Earl Douglas was buried at the braken bush, And Percy led captive away. THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. From Ramsay's Evergreen, \. 78. This battle took place at Harlaw, near Aberdeen, on the 24th of July, 1411. The contlict was occa- eioned by a dispute concerning the succession to the earldom of Ross, between Donald, Lord of the Isles, and the son of the Regent, Robert, Duke of Albany, whose claim was supported by Alexander Stewart, Earl of JNIar. The consequences of this battle were of the highest importance, inasmuch as the wild Celts of the Highlands and Islands received such a check that they never again combined for the conquest of the civilized parts of Scotland. The Battle of Ilarlaw is one of the old ballacfe whose titles occur in the CompUvjnt of Scotland (1548). A bag-pipe tune of that name is mentioned j\ Drummond of HawthorndenV mock-heroic poein, the Polemo Muhlinla : " Interea ante alios dux Piper Laius iieros, Prfecedens, magniimque gerens curabuvdine pypam Incipit Harlai cunctis sonare Batelhim." THK BATTLK OF HAT? LAW. 181 Mr. Laing, in his Eay^Iy Metrical Tales Cp. xlv.) speaks of an edition printed in the year 1668 as being "in the curious library of old Robert INIyln." No copy is now known to exist of a date anterior to that which was published in Ramsay's -Kvergrecn. Of the age of this copy the most opposite opiiiions have been maintained, some regarding the ballad as contem- porary with the event, and others insinuating that Ramsay, or one of his friends, is chargeable with the authorship. This last notion has no other ground than the freedom which Ramsay notoriously took with his texts, and that iVeedom has very likely been exercised in the present case. We shall, perhaps, be going quite as far as is prudent, if we acknowledge that this may be one of " the Scots poems wrote by the ingenious before 1 600." Most readers will afrree with Lord Hailes that the language is as recent as the days of Queen Mary, or of James the Sixth. Sibbald, in his Chronicle of Scotfish Poefry, iii. 288, has stated other objections to receiving this ballad for ancient, which seem, however, to be satisfactorily answered by Finlay, Scottish Ballads, i. 160. The copy of this ballad in The Thistle of Scotland, p. 75, is only Ramsay's, imperfectly remembered, or, what is quite as probable, here and there altered according to the taste of the illiterate editor. At page 92 of the same book, three stanzas are given of a burlesque song on this battle. A traditional ballad, ■vv-ently recovered, is inserted at the end of this rolume. Frae Dunidier as I cam throuch, Doun bv the hill of Banochie, l82 THE BATTLE OP HARLAW. A-llaugst the lands of Garioch, Grit pitie was to heir and se The noys and dulesum hermonlc, That evir that dreiry day did daw, Cryand the corynoch on hie, Alas ! alas ! for the Harlaw. I marvllt quhat the matter meint. All folks war in a fiery-fairy ; I wist nocht quha was fae or freind, Zit quietly I did me carrie. But sen the days of auld King Hairy, Sic slauchter was not hard nor sene. And thair I had nae tyme to tairy, For bissiness in Aberdene. Thus as I walkit on the way, To Inverury as I went, I met a man and bad him stay, Requeisting him to mak me quaint Of the beginning and the event. That happenit thair at the Harlaw : Then he entreited me tak tent. And he the truth ^ould to me schaw. Grit Donald of the Yles did claim Unto the lands of Ross sum richt, And to the governour he came, Them for to haif, gif that he micht ; Quha saw his interest was but slicht, And thairfore answerit with disdain ; He hastit hame baith day and nicht, And sent nae bodward back again. THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. 183 But Donald richt Impatient Of that answer Duke Robert gaif, He vowed to God Omnipotent, All the hale lands of Ross to haif, Or ells be graithed in his graif : He wald not quat his richt for nocht, Nor be abuslt lyk a slaif ; That bargin sould be deirly bocht. Then haistylie he did command, That all his weir-men should convene, Hk an well haniisit frae hand, To meit and heir quhat he did mein : , He waxit wrath, and vowit tein, Swelrand he wald surpryse the Xorth, Subdew the brugh of Aberdene, Mearns, Angus, and all Fyfe to Forth. Thus with the weir-men of the Yles, Quha war ay at his bidding bown. With money maid, with forss and wyls, Richi far and neir, baith up and doun, Throw mount and muir, frae town to town, AUangst the lands of Ross he roars, And all obey'd at his bandown, Evin frae the North to Suthren shears. Then all the countrie men did zield ; For nae resistans durst they mak, Nor offer battill in the feild. Be forss of arms to beir him bak. Syne they resolvit all and spak, That best it was for thair behoif. 184 THE BATTLE OF HARLAAY. They sould him for thair chiftaia tak, Believing weil he did them luve. Then he a proclamation maid, All men to meet at Inverness, Throw Murray land to mak a raid, Frae Arthursyre unto Spey-ness. And further mair, he sent express, To schaw his collours and ensenzie, To all and sindry, mair and less, Throc'hout the bounds of Byne and Euzie. And then throw fair Straithbogie land His purpose was for to pursew, And quhasoevir durst gaiustand, That race they should full sairly rew. Then he bad all his men be trew, And him defend by forss and slicht, And promist them rewardis anew, And mak them men of mekle micht. Without resistans, as he said. Throw all these parts he stoutly past, Quhair sum war wae, and sum war glaid. But Garioch was all agast. Throw all these feilds he sped him fast. For sic a sicht was never sene ; And then, forsuith, he langd at last To so the brucli of Aberdene. To hinder this prowcl enterprise, I'he stout and michty Erie of Marr With all his men in arms did ryse. THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. 185 Even frae Curgarf to Craigyvar : And down the syde of Don richt far, Angus and Mearns did all convene To feclit, or Donald came sae nar The ryall bruch of Aberdene. And thus the martial Erie of Marr Marcht with his men in richt array ; Befoir the enemie was aware, His banner bauldly did display. For weil enewch they kend the way, Ana all their semblance weil they saw : Without all dangir, or delay, Come haistily to the Harlaw. With him the braif Lord Ogilvy, Of Angus sheriff principall, The constabill of gude Dunde, The vanguard led before them all. Suppose in number they war small, Thay first richt bauldlie did pursew, A^d maid thair faes befor them fall, Quha then that race did sairly rew. And then the worthy Lord Salton, The strong undoubted Laird of Drum, The stalwart Laird of Lawristone, With ilk thair forces, all and sum. Panmuir with all his men did cum, The provost of braif Aberdene, AYith trumpets and with tuick of drum, Came schortly in thair armour schene. 186 TUE BATTLE OF HARLAW. These with the Earle of Marr came on, In the relr-ward richt orderlie, Thair enemies to sett upon ; In awfull manner hardily, Togither vowit to live and die, Since they had marchit mony myhs, For to suppress the tyrannic Of douted Donald of the Yles. But he in number ten to ane, Richt subtile alang did ryde, With Malcomtosch and fell Maclean, With all thair power at thair syde ; Presumeand on thair strenth and pr} dc, Without all feir or ony aw, Richt bauldie battill did abyde. Hard by the town of fair Harlaw. The armies met, the trumpet sounds, The dandring drums alloud did touk, Baith armies byding on the bounds. Till ane of them the feild sould bruik. Nae help was thalrfor, nane wald jouk, Ferss was the fecht on ilka syde, And on the ground lay mony a bouk Of them that thair did battill byd. With doutsum victorle they dealt. The bludy battil lastit lang ; Each man his nibours forss thair felt, The weakest aft-tymes gat the wrang : Thair was nae mo wis thair them amang, Naithing was hard but heavy knocks, THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. 187 That eccbo mad a dulefull sang, Thairto resounding frae the rocks. But Donalds men at last gaif back, For they war all out of array : The Earl of Marris men throw them brak, Pursewing shairply in thair way, Thair enemys to tak or slay, Be dynt of forss to gar them yield ; Quha war richt blyth to win away, And sae for feirdness tint the feild. Then Donald fled, and that full fast. To mountains hich for all his micht ; For he and his war all agast. And ran till they war out of sicht ; And sae of Ross he lost his richt, Thocht mony men with hem he brocht ; Towards the Yles fled day and nicht, And all he wan was deirlie bocht. This is (quod he) the richt report Of all that I did heir and knaw ; Thocht my discourse be sumthing schort, Tak this to be a richt suthe saw : Contrairie God and the kings law, Thair was spilt mekle Christian blude, Into the battil of Harlaw : This is the sum, sae I conclude. But zit a bonny quhyle abyde. And I sail mak thee cleirly ken Quhat slauchter was on ilkay syde 188 THE BATTLE OP HARLAW. Of Lowland and of HigUand men : Quha for thair awin liaif evir bene ; These lazie lowns micht weil be spaird, Chessit lyke deirs into their dens, And gat thair waiges for reward. Malcomtosh, of the clan heid eheif, Macklean, with his grit hauchty heid, With all thair succour and relief, War dulefully dung to the deid : And now we are freid of thair feid, They will not lang to cum again ; Thousands with them, without reraeid, On Donald's syd that day war slain. And on the uther sj'de war lost. Into the feild that dismal day, Chief men of worth, of mekle cost. To be lamentit sair for ay. The Lord Saltoun of Rothema} , A man of micht and mekle main ; Grit dolour was for his decay. That sae unhappylie was slain. Of the best men amang them was The gracious gude Lord Ogilvy, The sheriff principal of Angus, Renownit for truth and equitie. For faith and magnanimitie ; He had few fallows in the field, Zet fell by fatall destinie. For he nae ways wad grant to zield. THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. 189 Sir James Scrimgeor of Dudclap, knicht, Grit constabill of fair Dunde, Unto the dulefull deith was dicht : The kingis cheif banner man was he, A valziant man of chevalrie, Quhais predecessors wan that place At Spey, with gude King William frie, Gainst Murray and Macduncans race. Gude Sir Allexander Irving, The much renownit laird of Drum, Nane in his days was bettir sene, Quhen they war sembUt all and sum. To praise him we sould not be dumm» For valour, witt, and worthyness ; To end his days he ther did cum, Quhois ransom is remeidyless. And thair the knicht of Lawriston Was slain into his armour schene. And gude Sir Robert Davidson, Quha provest was of Aberdene : The knicht of Panmure, as was sene, A mortall man in armour bricht. Sir Thomas Murray, stout and kene, Left to the warld thair last gude nicht. Thair was not sen King Keneths days Sic strange intestine crewel stryf In Scotland sene, as ilk man says, Quhair mony liklie lost thair lyfe ; Quhilk maid divorce twene man and wyfe, And mony childrene fatherless, 190 HENRIE THE FIFTH's CONQUEST. Quhilk in this realme has bene full r}'fe Lord help these lands, our wrangs redress. In July, on Saint James his even, That four and twenty dismall day, Twelve hundred, ten score and eleven Of zeirs sen Chryst, the suthe to say, Men will remember, as they may, Quhen thus the veritie they knaw, And mony a ane may murn for ay, The brim battil of the Harlaw. KING HENllIE THE FIFTH'S CONQUEST. Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 52. " From the singing of the late Francis King, of Skipton in Craven, an eccentric character, who was well known in the western dales of Yorkshire as *the Skipton Mmstrel.' King's version does not contain the third verse, which is obtained, as is also the title, from a modern broadside, from whence also one or two verbal corrections are made, of too trifling a nature to particularize. The tune to which King used to sing it, is the same as that of Tlie Bold Pedlar and Robin Hood." Another ballad, much inferior in spirit to this, on the Battle of Agincourt, is to be found in The Crown Garland of Golden Hoses (ed. 1659), Pe.rcy Soc. vol HENRIE THE FIFTh's CONQUEST. 191 XV. p. 65. Percy inserted in the Reliques^ ii. 26, a song on this battle. Another, quoted in Heywood's Edward Fourth^ and therefore popular before 1600, is printed in Mr. Collier's preface to Shakespeare's Henry Fifth (new edition). The story of the tennis-balls is adopted from the chronicles by Shakespeare. " It is reported by some hislorlans," says Hume, " that the Dauphin, in de- rision of Henry's claims and dissolute character, sent him a box of tennis-balls, intimating that mere imple ments of play were better adapted to him than the instruments of war. But this story is by no means credible ; the great offers made by the court of France show that they had already entertained a just idea of Henry's character, as well as of their own situation.*^ History of England , ch. xix. As our king lay musing on his bed, He bethought himself upon a time Of a tribute that was due from France, Had not been paid for so long a time. Down, a-down, a-down, a-down^ Doivji, a-down, a-down. He called on his trusty page, His trusty page then called he, " O you must go to the king of France, O you must go right speedilie. "And tell him of my tribute due, Ten ton of gold that's due to me. That he must send me my tribute home. Or in French land he soon will me see." 192 HENRIE THE FIFTH'S CONQUEST. O then away went the trusty page, Away, away, and away went he, Until he came to the king of France ; Lo ! he fell down on his bended knee. " My master greets you, worthy Sire ; Ten ton of gold there is due, says he ; You must send him his tribute home, Or in French land you will soon him see." "Your master's young, and of tender years. Not fit to come into my degree ; But I will send him three tennis balls. That with them learn to play may he.'* O then away came the trusty page. Away, and away, and away came he, Until he came to our gracious king ; Lo ! he fell down on his bended knee. " What news, what news, my trusty page, What news, what news, hast thou brought to me?" " I've brought such news from the king of France, That you and he will ne'er agree. " He says you're young, and of tender years, Not fit to come into his degree ; But he will send you three tennis balls, That with them you may learn to play.** O then bespoke our noble king, A solemn vow then vow^d he ; HENRIE THE FIFTH'S CONQUEST. 193 " I'll promise him such tennis balls, As in French lands he ne'er did see. " Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby hills, that are so free ; Not a married man, nor a widow's son, For the widow's cry shall not go with me." They called up Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby lads that were so free ; Not a married man, nor a widow's son. Yet they were a jovial bold companie. O then he sailed to fair French land. With drums and trumpets so merrilie ; O then bespoke the king of France, " Yonder comes proud king Henrie." The first fire that the Frenchmen gave, They killed our Englishmen so free ; We killed ten thousand of the French, And the rest of them they were forced to flee. And then we marched to Paris gates. With drums and trumpets so merrilie ; O then bespoke the king of France, " Lord have mercy on my poor men and me ! " Go I tell him I'll send home his tribute due, Ten ton of gold that is due from me ; And the fairest flower that is in our French land To the Rose of England it shall go free." VOL. VII. 13 194 JANE SHORE. JANE SHORE. The story and character of Jane Shore can best be read in a charmingly written passage of Sir Thomas More's History of Edward Fifth ^ quoted in Percy's Rcliques, ii. 268. The ballad adheres to matter of fact with a fidelity very uncommon. In Drayton'? England's Heroioal. Epistles is one from Jane Shore to King Edward, and in the notes he thus gives her portrait : " Her stature was meane, her haire of a dark yellow, her face round and full, her eye gray, delicate harmony being betwixt each part's propor- tion, and each proportion's colour, her body fat, white, and smooth, her countenance cheerfull and like to her condition." (Cited by Percy.) This ballad is taken from the Collection of 1723, vol. i. p. 145. The full title is : The Woeful Lamen- tation of June Shore, a Goldsmith's Wife in London, sometime King Edward the Fourth's Concubine. The same version, with trifling variations, is found in Percy's Reliques, ii. 274, and Ritson's Ancient SongSy ii. 128. In the Garland of Good Will there is another piece on the same subject, (Percy Society, vol. xxx. p. 9, liie Lamentation of Shore's Wife,) and in the Collec- tion of 172:^, a burlesque song, called King Edward and Jane Shore (vol. i. p. 1 53). If Rosamond, that was so fair, Had cause her sorrow to declare, Then let Jane Shore with sorrow sing, That was beloved of a kinsf. JANE SHORE. 19o Then, wanton wives, in time amend, For love and beauty will have end. In maiden years my beauty bright Was loved dear by lord and knight ; But yet the love that they requir'd, It was not as my friends desir'd. My parents they, for thirst of gain, A husband for me did obtain ; And I, their pleasui-e to fulfil, Was forc'd to wed against my will. To Matthew Shore I was a wife, Till lust brought ruin to my life ; And then my life I lewdly spent, Which makes my soul for to lament. In Lombard-street I once did dwell, As London yet can witness well ; Where many gallants did behold My beauty in a shop of gold. I spread my plumes, as wantons do, Some sweet and secret friende to wooe, Because my love I did not find Agreeing to my wanton mind. At last my name in court did ring Into the ears of England's king. Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd, But I made coy what he desir'd. 196 JANE SHORE. Yet Mistress Blague, a neighbour near, Whose friendship I esteemed dear, Did say, " It is a gallant thing To be beloved of a king." By her perswasions I was led For to defile my marriage-bed, And wronge my wedded husband Shore, Whom I had lov'd ten years before. In heart and mind I did rejoyce, That I had made so sweet a choice ; And therefore did my state resign. To be King Edward's concubine. From city then to court I went, To reap the pleasures of content ; There had the joys that love could bring, And knew the secrets of a king. When I was thus advanc'd on high, Commanding Edward with mine eye, For Mistress Blague I in short space Obtain'd a living from his Grace. No friend I had, but in short time I made unto promotion cHmb ; \But yet for all this costly pride. My husbande could not me abide. His bed, tho' wronged by a king, His heart with deadly grief did sting ; JANE SHORE. 197 From England then lie goes away To end his life beyond i the sea. He could not live to see his name Impaired by my wanton shame ; Altho' a prince of peerless might Did reap the pleasure of his right. Long time I lived in the court, With lords and ladies of great sort ; And when I smil'd, all men were glad, But when I mourn'd, my prince grew sad. But yet an honest mind I bore To helpless people, that were poor ; 1 still redress'd the orphan's cry, And sav'd their lives condemn'd to dye. I still had ruth on widows tears, I succour'd babes of tender years ; And never look'd for other gain But love and thanks, for all my pain. At last my royal king did dye. And then my days of woe grew nigh ; When crook-back'd Kichard got the crown, King Edward's friends were soon put down. I then was punish'd for my sin. That I so long had lived in ; Yea, every one that was his friend. This tyrant brought to shameful end. 1 upon 198 JANE SHORE. Then for my lewd^ and wanton life, That made a strumpet of a wife, I penance did in Lombard-street, In shameful manner in a sheet: Where many thousands did me view, Who late in court my credit knew ; Which made the tears run down my face, To think upon my foul disgrace. Not thus content, they took from mee My goods, my livings, and my fee. And charg'd that none should me relieve. Nor any succour to me give. Then unto Mistress Blague I went. To whom my jewels I had sent. In hope thereby to ease my want. When riches fail'd, and love grew scant. But she deny'd to me the same. When in my need for them I came ; To recompence my former love, Out of her doors she did me shove. So love did vanish with my state. Which now my soul repents too late ; Therefore example take by me, For friendship parts in poverty. But yet one friend among the rest, Whom I before had seen distress'd, 1 rude. JANE SHORE. 199 And sav'd his life, condemn'd to dye, Did give me food to succour me: For whicli, by law it was decreed That he was hanged for that deed ; His death did grieve me so much more, Than had I dy'd myself therefore. Then those to whom I had done good Durst not afford^ mee any food ; Whereby in vain I begg'd all day, And still in streets by night I lay. My gowns beset with pearl and gold, Were turn'd to simple garments old ; My chains and jems and golden rings, To filthy rags and loathsome things. Thus was I scorn'd of maid and wife, For leading such a wicked life ; Both sucking babes and children small, Did make a pastime at my fall. I could not get one bit of bread, Whereby my hunger might be fed : Nor drink, but such as channels yield, Or stinking ditches in the field. Thus, weary of my life, at length I yielded up my vital strength. Within a ditch of loathsome scent, Where carrion dogs do much frequent : 1 restore. 200 JANE SHORE. The which now since my dying day. Is Shoreditchi call'd, as writers say ; Which is a witness of my sin, For being concubme to a king. You wanton wives, that fall to lust, Be you assur'd that God is just ; Whoredom shall not escape his hand, Nor pride unpunish'd in this land. If God to me such shame did bring, That yielded only to a king, How shall they scape that daily run To practise sin with every man ? You husbands, match not but for love, Lest some disliking after prove ; Women, be warn'd when you are wives, What plagues are due to sinful lives : Then, maids and wives, in time amend, For love and beauty will have end. 1 But it had this name long before; being so called from its being a common sewer (vulgarly shore) or drain.— Pekcy. SIB ANDREW BARTON. 201 A TRUE RELATION OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF SIR ANDREW BARTOx^, A PYRATE AND ROVER ON THE SEAS. This copy of Sir Andrew Barton is to be found in Old Ballads (1723) vol. i. 159, Ritson's Ancient Songs, ii. 204, Moore's Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry, p. 256, and Early Naval Ballads of England, Percy Society, vol. ii. p. 4, with only exceedingly trifling variations. We have followed the last, where the ballad is given from a black-letter copy m the British Museum, " printed by and for W. O., apd sold by the booksellers.'* When Flora with her fragi-ant flowers, Bedeckt the earth so trim and gay, And Neptune with his dainty showers, Came to present the month of May, King Henry would a-hunting ride ; Over the river Thames passed he,^ Unto a mountain-top also Did walk, some pleasure for to see. Where forty merchants he espy'd, With fifty sail came towards him. Who then no sooner were arriv'd. But on their knees did thus complain ; " An't please your grace, we cannot sail 202 SIR ANDREW BARTON. To France no voyage to be sure, But Sir Andrew Barton makes us quail, And robs us of our marchant ware.*' Vext was the king, and turning him, Said to the lords of high degree, " Have I ne'er a lord within my realm. Dare fetch that tray tor unto me ? " To him reply'd Charles Lord Howard, " I will, my liege, with heart and hand ; If it will please you grant me leave," he said, " I will perform what you command." To him then spoke King Henry, '•' I fear, my lord, you are too young.*' " No whit at all, my liege," quoth he ; " I hope to prove in valour strong. The Scotch knight I vow to seek. In what place soever he be, And bring ashore with all his might, Or into Scotland he shall carry me." " A hundred men," the king then said, " Out of my realm shall chosen be. Besides sailors and ship-boys, To guide a great ship on the sea. Bowmen and gunners of good skill, Shall for this service chosen be, And they at thy command and will In all aifairs shall wait on thee." Lord Howard call'd a gunner then, Who was the best in all the reahn, SIR ANDREW BARTON. 203 His age was threescore years and ten, And Peter Simon was his name. My lord call'd then a bow-man rare, Whose active hands had gained fame A gentleman born in Yorkshire, And William Horsely was his name. " Horsely ! " quoth he, "I must to sea, To seek a traytor, with good speed : Of a hundred bow-men brave," quoth he, " I have chosen thee to be the head." " If you, my lord, have chosen me Of a hundred men to be the head, Upon the mainmast I'll hanged be. If twelve-score I miss one shilling's breadth.'' Lord Howard then of courage bold, Went to the sea with pleasant cheer, Not curbed with winter's piercing cold, Tho' it was the stormy time of year. Not long had he been on sea. More in days than number three. But one Henry Hunt then he espy'd, A merchant of Newcastle was he. To him Lord Howard call'd out amain. And strictly charged him to stand ; Demanding then from whence he came. Or where he did intend to land. The merchant then made answer soon, With heavy heart and careful mind, " My lord, my ship it doth belong " Unto New-castle upon Tine." 204 SIR ANDREW BARTON. " Canst thou show me," the lord did say, " As thou didst sail by day and night, A Scottish rover on the sea, His name is Andrew Barton, knight ? *' Then the merchant sighed and said, With grieved mind and well-a-way, " But over well I know that wight, I was his prisoner yesterday. " As I, my lord, did sail from France, A Burdeaue voyage to take so far, I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence, "Who robb'd me of my merchant ware. And mickle debts God knows I owe. And every man doth crave his own ; And I am bound to London now, Of our gracious king to beg a boon." " Show me him," said Lord Howard then, " Let me once the villain see, And every penny he hath from thee ta'en, I'll double the same with shillings three.' " Now, God forbid," the merchant said, " I fear your aim that you will miss ; God bless you from his tyranny. For little you think what man he is. " He is brass within and steel without, His ship most huge and mighty strong, With eighteen pieces of ordinance. He carrieth on each side along. With beams for his top-castle, As also being huge and high, Sm ANDREW BARTON. 205 *rhat neither English nor Portugal Can Sir Andrew Barton pass by." •' Hard news thou shewst," then said the lord, " To welcome stranger to the sea ; But as I said, I'll bring him aboard, Or into Scotland he shall carry me." The merchant said, " If thou will do so, Take councel, then, I pray withal : Let no man to his top-castle go, Nor strive to let his beams downfall. "Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then, Of each side of my ship," said he, "And to-morrow, my Lord, Again I will your honour see. A glass I set as may be seen. Whether you sail by day or night ; And to-morrow, be sure before seven, You shall see Sir Andrew Barton, knight." The merchant set my lord a glass. So well apparent in his sight, That on the morrow, as his jiromise was, He saw Sir Andrew Barton, knight : The lord then swore a mighty oath, " Now by the heavens that be of might, By faith, believe me, and my troth, I think he is a worthy knight." " Fetch me my lyon out of hand," i Saith the lord, " with rose and streamer high ; 1 Tn some copies this stanza is wrongly placed after the next. 206 SIR ANDRLW BARTON. Set up withal a wIUow-Avand, That merchant like I may pass by : " Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass, And on anchor rise so high ; No top-sail at last he cast, But as a foe did him defie. Sir Andrew Barton seeing him Thus scornfully to pass by, As tho' he cared not a pin For him and his company ; Then called he his men amain, " Fetch back yon pedlar now," quoth he, And ere this way he comes again, I'll teach him well his courtesie." A piece of ordnance soon was shot By this proud pirate fiercely then. Into Lord Howard's middle deck, Which cruel shot killed fourteen men. He called then Peter Simon, he : " Look how thy word do stand instead, For thou shall be hanged on main-mast, If thou miss twelve score one penny breadth. Then Peter Simon gave a shot. Which did Sir Andrew mickle scare. In at his deck it came so hot. Killed fifteen of his men of war. "Alas," then said the pirate stout, " I am in danger now I see ; This is some lord, I greatly fear, That is set on to conquer me." SIR ANDREW BARTON. 207 Then Henry Hunt, with rigour hot, Came bravely on the other side, Who likewise shot in at his deck, And killed fifty of his men beside. Then " Out alas," Sir Andrew cryd, " What may a man now think or say ! Yon merchant thief that pierceth me, He was my prisoner yesterday." Then did he on Gordion call Unto the top castle for to go, And bid his beams he should let fall. For he greatly fear'd an overthrow. The lord call'd Horsely now in haste : " Look that thy word stand in stead. For thou shall be hanged on main mast, If thou miss twelve score a shilling's breadth.*' Then up [the] mast tree swerved he. This stout and mighty Gordion ; But Horsely he most happily Shot him under his collar-bone : Then call'd he on his nephew then. Said, " Sister's son, I have no mo, Three hundred pound I will give thee. If thou will to top-castle go." Then stoutly he began to climb, From off the ^ast scorn'd to depart ; But Horsely soon prevented him. And deadly pierced him to the heart. His men being slain, then up amain Did this proud pirate climb with speed, 208 SIR ANDREW BARTON. For armour of proof he had on, And did not dint of arrows dread. " Come hither, Horseley," said the lord, " See thou thy arrows aim aright ; Great means to thee I will afford, And if thou speedst, I'll make thee knight" Sir Andrew did climb up the tree, With right good will and all his main ; Then upon the breast hit Horsley he. Till the arrow did return again. Then Horsley spied a private place. With a perfect eye, in a secret part ; His arrow swiftly flew apace, And smote Sir Andrew to the heart. " Fight on, fight on, my merry men all, A little I am hurt, yet not slain ; I'll but lie down and bleed awhile. And come and fight with you again. "And do not," said he, " fear English rogues, And of your foes stand not in awe. But stand fast by St. Andrew's crosse. Until you hear my whistle blow." They never heard this whistle blow, WTiich made them all full sore afraid. Then Horsely said, " My Lord, aboard, For now Sir Andrew Barton's dead." Thus boarded they his gallant ship, With right good wll and all their main ; Eighteen score Scots alive in it, SIR ANDREW BARTON. 209 Besides as many more was slain. The lord went where Sir Andrew lay, And quickly thence cut off his head ; " I should forsake England many a day, If thou wert alive as thou art dead." Thus from the wars Lord Howard came, With mickle joy and triumphing ; The pirate's head he brought along For to present unto our king : Who haply unto him did say, Before he well knew what was done, " Where is the knight and pirate gay, That I myself may give the doom ? " " You may thank God," then said the lord, "And four men in the ship," quoth he, That we are safely come ashore, Sith you never had such an enemy ; That is Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon, William Horsely, and Peter's soni ; Therefore reward them for their pains, For they did service at their turn." To the merchant therefore the King he said, " In lieu of what he hath from thee tane, I give thee a noble a-day. Sir Andrew's whistle and his chain : To Peter Simon a crown a-day, 1 Thj se. vices of Peter's son, not mentioned in this ballad, are duly recorded in the older, unabridged copy. See V. 63-56, on p. 64. VOL. VII. 14 210 THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE. And half-a-crown a-day to Peter's son, And that was for a shot so gay, Which bravely brought Sir Andrew down. " Horsely, I will make thee a knight, And in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell: Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight, For this act he deserveth well. Ninety pound to our Englishmen, Who in this fight did stoutly stand ; And twelve-pence a-day to the Scots, till they Come to my brother king's high land." THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE ON THE HILL OF FAIR, FOUGHT OCT. 28, 1562. From Evans's Old Ballads, iii. 132. The favor shown by Queen Mary to her brother Lord James Stuart, on her first coming to Scotland, excited a violent jealousy in Gordon, Earl o£ Huntly, who, as a Catholic, and the head of a loyal and pow- erful family in the North, expected no slight distinction from his sovereign. This jealousy broke out into open hostility when the Queen, in 1562, conferred on her brother the earldom of Murray, the honors And revenues of which had been enjoyed by Huntly since 1548. INIary was at this time on a progress in the northern part of her kingdom, attended by the new earl and a small escort. Huntly collected his THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE. 211 vassals and posted himself at a place called the Fair Bank, or Corichie, near Aberdeen. Murray having increased his forces by seven or eight hundred of the Forbeses and Leslies, who, although attached to the Huntly faction, dared not disobey the Queen's sum- mons, marched to the attack. As little confidence could be placed in the good faith of the northern recruits, he ordered them to begin the battle. In obedience to this command, they advanced against the enemy, but instantly recoiled and retreated in a pretended panic on Murray's reserve, followed by the (jordons in disorder. The Queen's party received both the flying and the pursuers with an impenetrable front of lances. Huntly was repulsed, and the other northern clans, seeing how the victory was going, t urned their swords upon their friends. Many of the (xordons were slain, and the Earl, who was old and fat, being thrown from his horse, was smothered in the retreat. His sons John and Adam were taken prisoners, and the former was put to death at Aber- deen the day after the battle. The following ballad, it will be perceived, is utterly at variance with the facts of history. It was first printed in Evans's Old Ballads, and is said to be the composition of one Forbes, schoolmaster at Mary- Culter, on Dee-side. The dialect is broad Aber- deen. MuRN ye heighlands, and murn ye leighlands, I trow ye hae meikle need ; For thi bonny burn o* Corichie His run this day wi' bleid. 212 THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE. Tliii liopefu' laird o' Finliter, Erie Huntly's gallant son, For thi love hi bare our beauteous quine His gar't fair Scotland mone. Hi liis braken his ward in Aberdene, Throu dreid o' thi fause Murry, And his gather't the gentle Gordone clan, An' his father, auld Huntly. Fain wid he tak our bonny guide quine, An' beare hir awa' wi' him ; But Murry's slee wyles spoil't a' thi sport. An' reft him o' lyfe and hm. Alurry gar 't rayse thi tardy Merns men, An' Angis, an' mony ane mair, Erie Morton, and the Byres Lord Linsay, An' campit at thi hill o' Fare. Erie Huntlie came wi' Haddo Gordone, An' countit ane thusan men ; But Murry had abien twal hunder, Wi' sax score horsemen and ten. They soundlt thi bougills an' the trumpitg^. An' marchit on in brave array, Till the spiers an' the axis forgatherit. An' than did begin thi fray. Thi Gordones sae fercelie did fecht it, Withouten terrer or dreid, 1 This. THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE. 213 That mony o' Murry's men lay gaspin, An' dyit thi grund wi theire bleid. Then faiise Murry felngit to flee them, An' they pursuit at his backe, Whan thi haf o' thi Gordones desertit, An* turnit wi' Murray in a crack. Wi hether i' thir bonnits they turnit, The traiter Haddo o' their heid, An slaid theire brithers an' their fatheris, An' spoilit an' left them for deid. Then Murry cried to tak thi auld Gordone, An' mony ane ran wi' speid ; But Stuart o' Inchbraik had him stickit, An' out gushit thi fat lurdane's bleid. Then they teuke his twa sones quick an' hale, « An' bare them awa' to Aberdene ; But fair did our guide quine lament Thi waeful chance that they were tane. Erie Murry lost mony a gallant stout man , Thi hopefu' laird o' Thornitune, Pittera's sons, an Egli's far fearit laird. An mair to mi unkend, fell doune. Erie Huntly mist ten score o' his bra' men. Sum o' heigh an' sum o' leigh degree ; Skeenis youngest son, thi pryde o' a' the clau, Was ther fun' dead, he widna flee. 214 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNE3. This bloody fecht wis fercely faucht Octobri's aught an' twinty day, Crystis' fyfteen hundred thriscore yelr An' twa will merk thi deidlie fray. But now the day maist waefu' came, That day the quine did grite her fill. For Huntly's gallant stalwart son, "Wis heidit on thi heidin hill. Fyve noble Gordones wi' him hangit were Upon thi samen fatal playne ; Crule Murry gar't thi waefu' quine luke out» And see hir lover an' liges slayne. I wis our quine had better frinds, I wis our country better peice ; I wis our lords wid na' discord, I wis our weirs at hame may ceise. THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES, (otherwise called the battle of glenlivet.) When Philip the Second was preparing his Armada for the conquest of England, he spared no pains to .nduce James of Scotland to favor his enterpiise. Elizalbeth, on her part, was not less active to secure the friendship of a neighbor, who, by opening or closing his ports, might do so much to assist or to counteract the projects of her enemy. James had the THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. 215 wisdom to see that it was not for his interest to ally himself with a power that sought the extinction of the faith which he professed, and the subjugation of a kingdom to which he was the heir. The Spanish overtures wei^ rejected, and the great body of the people, warmly applauding the king's decision, entered into a combination to resist an attempt to land at any point on the Scottish coast. There was, nevertheless, a small party in Scotland which favoured the designs of Philip. At the head of this faction were the Catholic Earls of Huntly, Errol, and Angus. Even after the dispersion of the Armada, they kept up ne- gotiations with the Prince of Parma and the King of Spain, in the hope of restoring the ancient religion, or at least of obtaining for themselves an equality of privileges with the Protestants. More than once were the leaders of this party committed to prison for overt acts of treason, and released by the clemency of the sovereign, but suffering as the Romanists did under the oppression of a fanatical majority, rebellion was th^r natural condition. After various acts of insubordination, continued for a series of years, it was proved beyond question that the Catholic earls had signed papers for an invasion of Britain by 30,000 foreigners. A Convention of Estates, summoned to consider the affair, finally de- termined that the three earls should be exempt fl^om further inquiry on account of this conspiracy, but that before the first day of February, 1594, they should either renounce the errors of Popery, or remove from the kingdom. The Catholic leaders, relying on the number of their supporters, and not less on the inac- L'essible nature of the country in which their estates 216 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. lay, scornfully rejected the choice proposed to them, renewed their connections with Spain, and were ac- cordingly declared guilty of high treason and subjected to the doom of forfeiture. King James's exchequer was at this time so low lliat it was impossible for him to undertake the enforc- iijor of this sentence in person. He was obliged to delegate the office to the young Earl of Argyle, who was induced to accept the appointment by the prom- ise of a portion of Huntly's forfeited estates. The prospect of booty and the authority of the chief of the Campbells drew together six or seven thousand High- landers, to whom were joined some hundreds of men from the Western Islands, under the chief of Maclean, With this body, one fourth of whom carried firelocks, while the rest were armed after the Gaelic fashion, Argyle descended from the hills towards Huntly's castle of Strathbogie. The chief of the Gordons, suddenly assailed, had no time to procure assistance from Angus. He collected about a thousand gentlemen of his own name, and Errol came to his aid with two or three hundred of the Hays. All these were men of birth, well armed and mounted, and to this small, but powerful, troop of cavalry, was added a train of six field pieces (en- gines very terrible to Highlanders), under the manage- ment of an excellent soldier, the very same Captain Ker, who has figured already in the ballad of Edom o' Gordon. The armies encountered at a place called Belrinnea in a district called Glenlivet. The Highlanders were posted on a mountain-side, so steep that footmen could barely keep their hold. Notwithstanding this obstacle, THE BATTLE OF BALRTNNES. 217 the Earls determined to attempt the ascent, and Errol, supported by Sir Patrick Gordon, led the Hays up the hill in the very face of the foe. While the vanguard was advancing, Ker brought some of his artillery to bear on Argyle's front, -which threw the Highlanders into confusion, and caused some of them to fly. Errol's horsemen, however, were soon forced by the steepness of the mountain to wheel and move obliquely, and their flank being thus exposed, their horses suffered considerable damage from a volley of bullets and arrows. Upon this Huntly made a fierce attack upon Argyle's centre, and bore down his ban- ner, and his cavalry soon after attaining to more even ground, where their horses could operate with efliciency, the Highlanders, who were destitute of lances, and so unable to withstand the shock, were driven down the other side of the hill, and put to utter rout. The chief of Maclean alone withstood the assault of the horsemen, and performed marvel- lous feats of bravery, but was at last forced off the field by his own soldiers, and Argyle himself was compelled to fly, weeping with anger. Of the Catholics, Sir Patrick Gordon, Huntley's uncle, was slain, with only twelve others. The loss of the other party was several hundred soldiers, besides some men of note, among them Campbell of Lochinzell. This battle was fought on the third of October, 1594. The action is called the Battle of Glenlivet, or of Balrinnes, and also of Strath-avi n. — See the 38th chapter of Sir W. Scott's History of Scotland, and the contemporary narrative in Dalzell's Scotish Poems of the Sixteenth Century, i. 136. The ballad which follows is taken from the publica- 218 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. tion of Dalzell just mentioned, vol. ii. p. 347. There is a copy in the Pepys Collection, and another in the Advocates* Library, printed at Edinburgh in 1681 The ballad is also pi'inted, undoubtedly from a stall copy, in Scarce Ancient Ballads^ p. 29. The first four stanzas had previously been given in Jamieson's Popular Ballads^ ii. 144. The older version of Dal- zell is somewhat defective, and abounds in errors, "wliicli, as well as the vitiated orthograpliy, are attrib- uted to tlie ignorance of an English transcriber. The omissions are here supplied in the margin from the other copies. Betuixt Dunother and Aberdein, I rais and tuik the way, Beleiuing weill it had not beine Nought halff ane hour to day. The lift was clad with cloudis gray, s And owermaskit was»the moone, Quhilk me deceaued whair I lay, And maid me ryss ouer soone. On Towie Mounth I mett a man, Weill grathed in his gear : ic Quoth I, " Quhat neues ? " then he begane To tell a fitt of warre. Quoth he, " Of lait I heir, Ane bloodie broust there was brouine, 19-24. Saying, " The rtiinisters, I fear, A bloody browst have brown, i; For yesterday, withouthen mair, On the hill at Stradown, THE BATTLE OF BALRINNE5. 219 Zesterday, withouten molr, is Upone ane hill at Strathdoune." Then I, as any man wold be, « Desyrous for to know Mair of that taill he told to me, The quhilk he said he sawe — Be then the day began to daw. And back with him I red ; w Then he began the soothe to schaw. And on this wayis he said. Macallenmore cam from the wast With many a bow and brand ; To wast the Rinnes he thought best, as The Earll of Huntlies land. He swore that none should him gainestand, Except that he war fay ; Bot all sould be at his comand That dwelt be northen Tay. « Then Huntlie, for to prevent that perrill, Directit hastilie " I saw three lords in battle fight Right furiously awhile, Huntlie and Errol, as they hight. Were both against Argyle. Turn back with me and ride a mile, And I shall make it kend, How they began, the form and stile, And of the battles end." Jamieso» 36. landis. THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. Besought him for supplie. Quha said, " It is my deutie For to giue Huntlie support ; For if he lossis Strabolgie, My Slaines vrill be ill hurt " Thairfoir I hald the subject vaine, Wold rave us of our right ; First sail one of us be slaine, The uther tak the flight. Suppose Argyll be muche of might, Be force of Heigheland men ; We's be a motte into his sight, Or he pas hame againe. " Be blaithe, my mirrie men, be blaithe, Argyll sail have the worse, Give he into this countrie kaithe, I houpe in God[i]s cross." Then leap this lord upon his horss, Ane warrlyk troupe at Torray ; To meit with Huntlie and his force. They ryde to Elgine of Murray. The sajnen night thir lordis meit ; For utheris, who thought long, (To tell zow all, I haue forgot) The mirthe was them amonge. Then playeris played, and songsters song, To gled the mirrie host, Quho feared not thair foes strong, Nor zet Argylles boste. THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. 221 They for two dayes wold not remove, Bot blaithlie dranck the wyne, Some to his lass, some to his loue, 75 Some to his ladeis fyne. And he that thought not for to blyne, His mistres tockin tackes ; They kist it first, and set it syne Upone thair helmes and jackes. w They past thair t}Tne right -wantonly, Quhill word cam at ye last, Argyll, with ane great armie. Approached wondrous fast. Then [out] of the toune thir barrones past, « And Huntlie to them said, " Good gentillmen, we will us cast To Strathbolgie but bed." Quhen they ifeito Strathbolgie came, To that castell but dreid, » Then to forsee how thingis might frame, 88. beed. 91. fraine. 89-96. This stanza is nnintelligible in Dalzell. It stands thus in Laing's copy. When they unto Strathboggy came, To council soon they geed, For to see how things might frame, For they had meikle need. They voted then to do a deed As kirkmen do devise, And pray'd that they might find good speed In that great interprise. 222 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES For they had meikle neld, They woned them unto the dead, As kirkmen could devys ; Syne prayed to God that they might speed 86 Off thair guid enterpryse. Then evirie man hunself did arms, To meit Mackallanmorne, Unto Strathdoune quho did great harme The Wednesday beforne. w As lyounes does poore lambes devoure, With bloodie teethe and naillis, They burnt the biggingis, tuik the store, Syne slewe the peopillis sellis. Besyd all this hie crueltie, los He said, ere he should ceass. The standing stonnes of Strathbolgie Schould be his palione place. Bot Huntlie said, " With Godis grace, First we sail fight them ones ; no Perchance that they may tak the chess, Ere they come to the stonnes." Thir lordis keipt on at aftemoone, With all thair warrmen wight ; Then sped up to Cabrach sone, JW Whair they bed all that night. Upone the morne, quhen day was light, They rose and maid them boune lutill ane castell that stood on hight. They call it Auchindoune. i» THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. 225 Besyd that castell, on a croft, They stended pallionis ther ; Then spak a man that had bein oft In jeopardie of warr : " My lord, zour foes they ar to fear, tat Thoughe we war neuir so stoute ; Thalrfoir comand some man of warre To watche the rest about." Be this was done, some gentillmen Of noble kin and blood, i30 To counsell with thir lordls begane, Of matteris to concluide : For Weill aneughe they understood The matter was of weght. They had so manie men of good us In battell for to fight. The firstin man in counsall spak, Good Errol it was he ; Who sayis, " I will the vaneguard tack, And leiding upone me. i« My Lord Huntlie, come succour me, When ze sie me opprest ; For fra the feild I will not flie So long as I may last." Thair at some Gordones waxed wraithe, ii8 And said he did them wrong ; To lat this lord then they warre leath First to [the] battell gange. The meiting that was them amonge, 149. This line seems to be corrupted. 224 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. Was no man that it hard, w Bot Huntlie, with ane troupe full stronge. Bed into the reir guarde. Thir wer the number of thair force Thir lordis to battell led : Ane thousand gentillmen on horss, us And some fotemen they had ; Thrie hundreth that schot arrowes bred, Four scoir that hagbutis bore : Thir war the number that they had Of footmen with them suire. M This worthy chevalrie All merchand to the field ; Argyll, with ane great armie, Upone ane hill had tane beild, Aboyding them [with] speare and scheild, mb "With buUettis, dartis, and bowes ; The men could weill thair wapones weild ; To meit them was no mowes. When they so near uther war come, That ilk man saw his foe, ITO ** Goe to, and assay the gaime," said some ; Bot Capitane Ker said, " No : 161. Some words are lost. Thus with their noble cavalry They marched to the field. 165. speares and scheildis. 167. weild thair wapones weill. Laiso. THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. 225 First lat the gunes befoir us goe, That they may break the order : Quoth both the lordis, " Lat it be so, W Or euer we goe forder." Then Androw Gray, upone ane horss, Betuixt the battillis red ; Makand the signe of holy cross, In manus tuas he said. iso He lighted thair [the] gunes to led, Quhill they cam to the rest ; Then Capitane Ker unto him sped. And bad him shuit in haist. "I will not [shult]," quothe Androw Gray, iss " Quhill they cum over zonder hill ; We have an ower guid cans this dey, Through misgj-dins to spill. Goe back, and bid our men byd still, Quhill they cum to the plaine ; i90 Then sail my shuitting doe them ill, I will not shuit in vaine." " Shuit up, shuit up," quothe Capitane Ker, " Shuit up, to our comfort ! " The firsten shot [it] was to neir, los It lighted all to schort. The nixtin shot thair foes hurt. It lighted wounderous weill : Quoth Androw Gray, " I sie ane sport, Quhen they began to reill. -m^ 180. mannis. 187. then owei VOL. VIL 15 826 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. " Goe toe, good mattes, and say the game, Zonder folkis ar in a fray ; Lat sie how we can well with them, Into thair disaray. Goe, goe, it is not tyme to stay, All for my bennisoune ; Saue non this day ze may gar dye, Quhill ze the feild haue wonne." Tlien Errol haisted to the hight, AVhair he did battell byd ; With him went Auchindoune and Gight, And Bonnitoune by his syd : Whair manie gentillman did with him byd, Whos prais sould not be smored ; Bot Capitane Ker, that was thair gyde, B,ed ay befoir my lord. They war not manie men of werre, Bot they war wonder trewe ; With hagbutis, pistolet, bowe, and speare, They did thair foes persewe, Quhair bullettis, dartis, and arrowes flew, Als thick as haill or raine, 209-216. Then awful Erroll he can say " Good fellows, follow me : I hope it shall be ours this day, Or else therefore to die. Tho they in number many be. Set on, withoutten words; Let ilk brave fellow brake liis tree, And then pursue with swords." 213. many were. 219. within went. THE BATTLE OF BALEINNES. 227 Quliilk manle hurt, and some they slew, Of horss and gentillmen. Huntlie maid haist to succour him, And charged furiouslie, Quhair manie menis sight grew dim, 235 The shottis so thick did flie ; Quhilk gart right manie doghtie die, Of some on euerie syd ; Argyll with his tald hoste did flie, Bot Macklenne did abyd. 240 Macklene had one ane habershoune, Ilk lord had one ane jack ; Togidder feirc[e]lie are they rune. With manie a gunes crack. The splenderis of thair spearis they break, 245 Flewe up into the air, Quhilk boore doune maney on thair back, Againe ros neuer mair. " Alace, I sie ane sore sight," 230 Said the Laird of Macklenne ; " Our feible folkis is tenne the flight, 24&-65. Then some men said, " We will be sure And take ^laclean by course; -'>'> Go to, for we are men anew To bear him down by force." But noble Errol had remorse, And said, ''It is not best. For tho Argyle has got the worst, 260 Let him gang with the rest. 228 THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES. And left me myne allaine. Now must I file, or els be slaine, Since they will not re turn e;** m With that he ran ouer ane dyne, Endlongis ane lytill burne. Then after great Argylles hoste Some horssmen tuik the chess, Quha turned their backes for all thair bost, 275 Con tr air the fooles say[s]. They cried " oh," with manie '* alace,** Bot neuir for mercie sought ; Thairfoir the Gordones gaue no grace, Becaus they craved it nought. 2So Then some guidman perseiued sharpe, With Erroll and Huntlie, And thai with [a] capitane did carpe, Quhais name was Ogilvie. He sayis, " Gentillmen, lat see 285 Who maniest slaine slaydis ; Save non this day ze may gar die. For pleadis, nor ransome paynes." 257-64. " What greater honour could ye wish In deeds of chivalry, Or brave victory than this, Where one has chac'd thrice three? Therefore, good fellows, let him be ; He'll die before he yield; For he with his small company Bade langest in the field." 281. perceiued. 286, 288. corrupted THE BATTLE OP BALRINNES. 229 Lyk hart<»s, up howes and hillis thei ranne, Qubair horsmen might not winn : 2» " Reteir againe," quoth Huntlie then, " Quhair we did first begin. Heir lyes manie carved skinnes, With manie ane bloodie beard, For anie helpe, with litell dinne, 295 Sail rotte aboue the eard." When they cam to the hill againe. The sett doune one thair knees. Syne thanked God that they had slaine Soe manie enimies. ^ They ros befor Argylles eyis. Maid Capitane Ker ane knight; Syne bed among the dead bodies, Whill they war out of sight. This deid so doughtilie was done, As I hard trewe men tell, Upone ane Thursday afternoone, St. Franecis ewill befell. 806-12. Now I have you already tauld, Huntly and Errol's men Could scarce be thirteen hundred called, The truth if ye would ken. And yet Argj^le his thousands ten Were they that took the race, And tho that tliey were nine to ane. They caused [them] take the chace. 308 he. 309. has. 324. should be ere, or vUjil. 230 BONNY JOHN SETON. Guid AucTiindoune was slaine himself, With uther seven in batt61l ; So was the Laird of Lochinzell, Grate pitie was to tell. BONNY JOHN SETON. This bartkd is taken from Maidment's North Couti' trie Garland, p. 15. There is another ver^on in Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland^ ii. 136 {The Death of John Seton). John Seton of Pitmedden, a young and brave cavalier, was shot through the middle by a cannon ball, during the skirmish at the Bridge of Dee, while engaged, under the Viscount of Aboyne, in resisting the advance of Montrose upon the town of Aberdeen, in June, 1639. It was the hard fate of Aberdeen to suffer from the arms of Montrose, first, when he was general of the Covenanters, and again while he was 813-20. Sae Argyle's boast it was in vain, (He thought sure not to tyne) That if he durst cum to the plain, He would gar every nine Of his lay hold upon ilk man Huntly and Errol had : But yet for all his odds he ran To tell how ill he sped. 319. fled. BONNY JOHN SETON. 231 lieutenant for the King. The murder and pillage perpetrated in the town by the Irish after the defeat of Lord Burleigh, in 1644, have been made the sub- ject of violent reproach by his enemies, but it may perhaps be said, that for all that exceeded the usual horrors of war, the heroic commander was not respon- sible. In Buchan's version of the present ballad, the clemency shown by Montrose on taking possession of the city in 1G39 is commemorated in three stanzas worthy of preservation. The Covenanters were " re- solved to have sacked it orderly." Out it speeks the gallant Montrose, (Grace on his fair body!) " We winna bum the bonny burgh, We'll even lat it be." Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose, " Your purpose I will break ; We winna burn the bonny burgh, We'll never build its make. " I see the women and their children Climbing the craigs sae hie; We'll sleep this night in the bonny burgh, And even lat it be." Upon the eighteenth day of June, A dreary day to see, The Southern lords did pitch their camp Just at the bridge of Dee. Bonny John Seton of Pitmeddin, A bold baron was he, 232 BONNY JOHN SETON. He made his testament ere lie went out, The wiser man was he. He left his land to his young son, His lady her dowry, A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean^ Yet on the nurse's knee. Then out came his lady fair, A tear into her e'e ; Says " Stay at home, my own good lord, O stay at home with me I '* He looked over his left shoulder. Cried, " Souldiers, follow me I ** O then she looked in his face, An angry woman was she : " God send me back my steed^^gain, But ne'er let me see thee ! " His name was Major Middleton That manned the bridge of Dee ; ^His name was Colonel Henderson That let the cannons flee. His name was Major Middleton That manned the bridge of Dee ; And his name was Colonel Henderson That dung Pitmeddin in three. Some rode on the black and gray, And some rode on the brown. BONNY JOHN SETON. 238 But the bonny John Seton Lay gasping on the ground. Then bye there comes a false Forbes, "Was riding from Driminere ; Says " Here there lies a proud Seton, This day they ride the rear." Cragievar^ said to his men, " You may play on your shield ; For the proudest Seton in all the Ian* This day lies on the field." " spoil him, spoil him," cried Cragievar, " Him spoiled let me see ; For on my word," said Cragievar, " He had no good will at me." They took from him his armour clear. His sword, likewise his shield ; Yea they have left him naked there Upon the open field. , The Highland men, they're clever men At handling sword and shield, But yet they are too naked men To stay in battle field. The Highland men are clever men- At handling sword or gun, 1 Sir William Forbes of Cragievar. 2 The Highlanders were thrown into great constema- tiDD by cannon shot, to which they were not accustomed. 234 THE HAWS OF CROMDALE. But yet they are too naked men To bear the cannon's rung. For a cannon's roar in a summer night Is like thunder in the air ; There's not a man ^n Highland dress Can face the cannon's fire. THE HAWS OF CROMDALE. Ritson's Scottish Songs, ii. 40. Johnson's Museum, p. 502. This ballad, very popular In Scotland, was long sold on the stalls before it was received into the col- lections. A glance will show that it has at best been very imperfectly transmitted by oral tradition. In fact, the Ettrick Shepherd seems to be right in main- taining that two widely separated events are here jumbled together. The first five stanzas apparently refer to an action in May, 1690, when Sir Thomas Livingston surprised fifteen hundred Highlanders in their beds at Cromdale, and the remainder to the lost battle of Auldern, where Montrose, with far inferior forces, defeated Sir John Hurry with prodigious slaughter, on the 4th of May, 1645. Mr. Stenhouse At the Raid of Stonehaven, just previous to the affair of the Bridge of Dee, the first volley made them wheel about and fly in disorder. They declared that they could not abide " the musket's mother." THE HAWS OF CROMUALE. 235 States, indeed, that after that Imprudent division of the anny of the Covenant which opened the way to the disaster at Auldern, Hurry surprised and routed at Cromdale a body of Highlanders under the lion- hearted AUaster Macdonald. But this check appears, by his own language, to have been too slight an affair to call forth such verses as those with which the ballad begins. See Hogg's Jacobite Relics^ ii. 157, Johnson's Museum (1853), iv. 428. As I came in by Achendown, A little wee bit frae the town, When to the highlands I was bown, To view the haws of Cromdale, I met a man in tartan trews, I spier'd at him what was the news : Quoth he, " The highland army rues That e'er we came to Cromdale.** " "We were in bed, sir, every man. When the English host upon us came ; A bloody battle then began Upon the haws of Cromdale. " The English horse they were so rude, They bath'd their hoofs in highland blood. But our brave clans they boldly stood, Upon the haws of Cromdale. " But alas ! we could no longer stay, For o'er the hills we came away, 236 THE HAWS UF GROMDALE. And sore we do lament the day That e'er we came to Cromdale/ Thus the great Montrose did say, " Can you direct the nearest way ? For I will o'er the hills this day, And view the haws of Cromdale.** " Alas, my lord, you're not so strong ; You scarcely have two thousand men, And there's twenty thousand on the plain, Stand rank and file on Cromdale.** Thus the great Montrose did say, " I say, direct the nearest way. For I will o'er the hills this day. And see the haws of Cromdale." They were at dinner, every man. When great Montrose upon them came ; A second battle then began Upon the haws of Cromdale. The Grants, Mackenzles, and M'Kys, Soon as JNIontrose they did espy, O then they fought most vehemently, Upon the haws of Cromdale. The M'Donalds, they return 'd again. The Camerons did their standard join, M'Intosh play'd a bonny game, Upon the haws of Cromdala THE HAWS OF CROMDALE. 237 The M'Gregors fought like lyons bold, MThersons, none could them controul, M'Lauchlins fought like loyal souls, Upon the haws of Cromdale. [M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neals, So boldly as they took the field, And made their enemies to yield, Upon the haws of Cromdale.] The Gordons boldly did advance. The Fraziers [fought] with sword and lance, The Grahams they made their heads to dance, Upon the haws of Cromdale. The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose, So boldly set upon their foes. And brought them down with highland blows, Upon the haws of Cromdale Of twenty thousand Cromwells men Five hundred went to Aberdeen, The rest of them lyes on the plain, Upon the haws of Cromdale. 838 THE BATTLE OF ALFORD. THE BATTLE OF ALFORD. Two months after the defeat of Sir John Hurry at Auldern, Montrose utterly destroyed the other divis- ion of tlie covenanting army, under General Baillie, at Alford on the Don. On the 2d of July, the King's forces marched from Drumminor, and crossed the Don to Alford, Montrose and the Earl of Aboyne taking up their quarters in the castle of Asloun. Baillie, who was now in pursuit of the royalists, moved southward, and encamped on the day just mentioned, at Lesly. The next morning he crossed the river (halting on the way near a farm called Mill Hill), whereupon the battle took place. Mon- trose dearly purchased this new victory by the loss of Lord George Gordon, who commanded the right wing, not the left These fragmentary verses are from The Thistle of ■Scotland, p. 68. The Graham[s and] Gordons of Aboyne Camp'd at Drumminor bog ; At the castle there they lay all night, And left them scarce a hog. The black Baillie, that auld dog, Appeared on our right ; We quickly raise up frae the bog. To Alford march'd that night THE BATTLE OF ALFORD. 289 We lay at Lesly all night, They camped at Asloun ; And up we raise afore daylight, Before we was in battle rank, We was anent Mill Hill ; I wat fuU^ weel they gar'd us rue, We gat fighting our fill. They hunted us and dunted us, They drave us here and there, Untill three hundred of our men Lay gasping in their lair. The Earl of Mar the right wing guided, The colours stood him by ; Lord George Gordon the left wing guided. Who well the sword could ply. There came a ball shot frae the west That shot him through the back ; Although he was our enemy. We grieved for his wreck. We cannot say 'twas his own men. But yet it came that way ; In Scotland there was not a match To that man where lie lay. 1 fen. 240 THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS. THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS. Mimtrehy of the Scottish Border, ii. 203 " The insurrection commemorated and magnified in the following ballad, as indeed it has been in some nistories, was, in itself, no very important affair. It began in Dumfries-shire, where Sir James Turner, a soldier of fortune, was employed to levy the arbitrary fines imposed for not attending the Episcopal churches. The people rose, seized his person, disarmed his sol- diers, and, having continued together, resolved to march towards Edinburgh, expecting to be joined by their friends in that quarter. In this they were disap- pointed; and, being now diminished to half their numbers, they drew up on the Pentland Hills, at a place called Rullien Green. They were commanded by one Wallace ; and here they awaited the approach of (General Dalzlel, of Binns ; who, having marched to Calder, to meet them on the Lanark road, and finding, that, by passing through Collington, they had got to the other side of the hills, cut through the mountains and approached them. Wallace showed both spirit and judgment: he drew up his men in a very strong situation, and withstood two charges of Dalziel's cavalry ; but, upon the third shock, the insurgents were broken and utterly dispersed. There was very little slaughter, as the cavalry of Dalziel were chiefly gentlemen, who pitied their oppressed and misguided countrymen. There were about fifty killed, and as many made prisoners. The battle was TlIK BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS. 241 fought on the 28th November, 1606 ; a day still observed by the scattered remnant of the Camerouian s^ct, who regularly hear a field-preaching upon the field of battle. " I am obliged for a oopy of the ballad to Mv. Liv- ingston of Airds, who took it down from the recitation of an old woman residing on his estate. " The gallant Grahams, mentioned in the text, are liraham of Claverhouse's horse." Scott. The gallant Grahams cam from the west, Wi' their horses black as ony craw ; The Lothian lads they marched fast, To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa. Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle, The lads they marched mony a mile ; Souters and tailors unto them drew, Their covenants for to renew. The Whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks, Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs ; But aye sinsyne they^do repent The renewing o' their Covenant. At the Mauchline muir, where they were reviewed, Ten thousand men in armour show'd ; But, ere they came to the Brockie's burn, The half of them did back return. General Dalyell, as I hear tell. Was our lieutenant-general ; VOL. VII. 16 242 THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS. And Captain Welsh, wi* his wit and skill, Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill. General Dalyell held to the hill, Asking at them what was their will ; And who gave them this protestation, To rise in arms against the nation ? " Although we all in armour be, It's not against his majesty ; Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid, But wi' the country we'll conclude." " Lay down your arms, in the King's name, And ye shall a' gae safely hame ; " But they a' cried out wi' ae consent, " We'll fight for a broken Covenant." " O well," says he, " since it is so, A wilfu' man never wanted woe : " He then gave a sign unto his lads. And they drew up in their brigades. The trumpets blew, and the colours flew, . And every man to his armour drew ; The Whigs were never so much aghast. As to see their saddles toom sae fast. The cleverest men stood in the van, The Whigs they took their heels and ran ; But such a raking was never seen, As the raking o' the RulUen Green THE READING SKIRMISH. 248 THE READING SKIRMISH. Several companies, principally Irish, belonging k) the army of King James, and stationed at Reading, had quitted the town in consequence of a report that the Prince of Orange was advancing in that direction with the main body of his forces. On the departure of the garrison, the people of Reading at once invited the Prince to take possession of the place, and secure them against the Irish. But the King's troops, having learned that it was only a small detachment of Wil- liam's soldiers, and not the main army, by whom they were threatened, returned and reoccupied their post. Here they were attacked by two hundred and fifty of the Dutch, and though numbering six hundred, were soon put to flight, with the loss of their colors and of fifty men, the assailants losing but five. This skir- mish occurred on Sunday, the 9th of December, 1688. This piece is extracted from Croker's Historical Songs of Ireland, p. 14, Percy Society, vol. i., and was there given from a collection of printed ballads in the British Museum. The burden seems to be derived from the following stanza of Lilli burlero : ** Now, now de heretics all go down, Lilli, cf c. By Clireist and St. Patrick de nation's our own, LiUiy 4'C. 244 THE RKADING SKIRMISH. THE READING SKIRMISH; OR, THE BLOODY IRISH ROUTED BY THE VICTORI- OUS DUTCH. Five hundred papishes came there, To make a final end Of all the town, in time of prayer, But God did them defend. To the tune of Lilli horlero. Licensed according to order. Printed for J. D. in the year 1688. We came into brave Reading by night, Five hundred horsemen proper and tall ; Yet not resolved fairly to fight. But for to cut the throats of them all. Most of us was L-ish Papists, Who vowed to kill, then plunder the town ; We this never doubted, but soon we were routed. By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. In Reading town we ne'er went to bed ; Every soul there mounted his horse, Hoping next day to fill them with dread; Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross, We most shamefully was routed : Fortune was pleased to give us a frown, And blasted our glory : I'll tell you the story. By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down.' We thought <-o slay them all in their sleep. But by my shoul, were never the near, THE READING SKIRMISH. 245 The lieretleks their guard did so keep, Which put us in a trembling fear. We concluded something further, To seize the churches all in the town, Wirh killing and slaying, while they were a prajing, Bui we were routed, and soon run down. Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch Every man, nay, woman and child ; This in our hearts we freely did hatch. Vowing to make a prey of the spoil. But we straightways was prevented, When we did hope for fame and renown ; In less than an hour we [are] forced to scoure ; By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down. We were resolved Reading to clear, Having in hand the flourishing sword ; The bloody sceen was soon to appear. For we did then but wait for the word : While the ministers were preaching, We were resolved to have at their gown ; But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. Just as we all were fit to fall on, In came the Dutch with fury and speed ; And amongst them there was not a man, But what was rarely mounted indeed ; And rid up as fierce as tygers, Knitting their brows, they on us did frown ; Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. 24.6 THE READING SKIRMISH. They never stood to use many words, But in all haste up to us they flocked, In their right hands their flourishing swords, And their left carbines ready cock'd. We were forced to fly before them, Thorow the lanes and streets of the town ; While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. Then being fairly put to the rout. Hunted and drove before 'um like dogs, Our captain bid us then face about, But we wisht for our Irish bogs. Having no great mind for fighting, The Dutch did drive us thorow the town ; Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed. By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. We threw away our swords and carbines, Pistols and cloaks lay strow'd on the lands ; Cutting off* boots for running, uds-doyns. One pair of heels was worth two pair of hands. Then we called on sweet St. CoIeman,i Hoping he might our victory crown ; But Dutchmen pursuing poor Teagues to our ruin. By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. Never was Teagues in so much distress. As the whole world may well understand ; When we came here, we thought to possess Worthy estates of houses and land : 1 Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his participation in the I'opish Plot. — Ckoker. UNDAUNTED LOKDONDERRY. 247 But -we find 'tis all a story, Fortune is pleased on us to frown : Instead of our riches, we stink in our breeches, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. They call a thing a three-legged mare, Where they will fit each neck with a nooze. Then with our beads to say our last prayer, After all this to die in our shoes. Thence we pack to purgatory ; For us let all the Jesuits pray ; Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creatures Would have you to follow the self-same way. UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. The story of the siege of Londonderry, " the most memorable in the annals of the British isles," is elo- quently told in the twelfth chapter of Macaulay's History of England. It lasted one hundred and five days, from the middle of April to the first of August (1689). During that time the garrison nad been reduced from about seven thousand men to about three thousand. Famine and pestilence slew more than the tire of the enemy. In the last month of the siege, there was scarcely any thing left to eat in the city but salted hides and tallow. The price of a dog's paw was five shillings and sixpence, and rats that had 248 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. fed on the bodies of the dead were eagerly hunted and slain. The courage and self-devotion of the de- fenders, animated by a lofty public spirit and sus- tained by religious zeal, were at last rewarded by a glorious triumph, and will never cease to be cele- brated with pride and enthusiasm by the Protestants of Ireland. The ballad is here given as printed in Cfokers Historical Songs of Ireland^ p. 46, from a black letter copy in the l^ritish Museum. The whole title runs thus: Undaunted Londonderry ; or^ihe Victorious Pro- testants' constant success against the proud French and Irish Forces. To the Tune of Lilli Borlero. Protestant boys, both valliant and stout. Fear not the strength and frown of Rome, Thousands of them are put to the rout, Brave Londonderry tells 'um their doom. For their cannons roar like thunder, Being resolved the town to maintain For AVilliam and Mary, still brave Londonderry Will give the proud French and Tories their bane. Time after time, with powder and balls, Protestant souls they did 'um salute. That before Londonderry's stout walls Many are slain and taken to boot. Nay, their noble Duke of Berwick, i Many reports, is happily tane, 1 In a sally which was made by the garrison towards the end of April, the Duke of Berwick is said to have received H sli2;lit wound in the back. UNDAtTNTED LONDONDERRY. 249 Where still they confine him, and will not resign him. Till they have given the Tories their bane. Into the town their bombs they did throw, Being resolved to fire the same, Hoping thereby to lay it all low, Could they but raise it into a flame. But the polititious Walker, 1 By an intreague did quail them again, And blasted the glory of French, Teague, and Tory ; By policy, boys, he gave them their bane. Thundering stones they laid on the wall, Ready against the enemy came. With which they vow'd the Tories to mawl, W^hene'er they dare approach but the same. And another sweet invention. The which in brief I reckon to name ; A sharp, bloody slaughter did soon follow after. Among the proud French, and gave them their bane. Stubble and straw in parcels they laid. The which they straightways kindled with speed ; By this intreague the French was betrayed, Thinking the town was fired indeed. Then they placed their scaling ladders, And o'er the walls did scour amain ; Yet strait, to their wonder, they were cut in sunder, Thus Frenchmen and Tories met with their bane. 1 The Eev. GeorgeWalker, rector of the parish of Donagh- moie, the hero of the defence. His statue now stands on a loft\ pillar, rising from a bastion which for a long time sus- tained the heaviest fir*} of the besieg sfj 250 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. Suddenly then they opened their gate, Sallying forth with vigor and might ; And, as the truth I here may relate, Protestant boys did valliantly fight, Taking many chief commanders, While the sharp fray they thus did maintain, With vigorous courses, they routed their forces, And many poor Teagues did meet with their bane While with their blood the cause they have sealed, Heaven upon their actions did frown ; Protestants took the spoil of the field, Cannons full five they brought to the town. With a lusty, large, great mortar, ' Thus they returned with honor and gain, While Papists did scour from Protestant power, As fearing they all should suffer their bane. In a short time we hope to arrive With a vast army to Ireland, And the affairs so well we'll contrive That they shall ne'er have power to stand G^ist King William and Queen Mary, Who on the throne does flourish and reign ; We'll down with the faction that make the distraction, And give the proud French and Tories their bane. PRCELIUM GILLICRANKIANUM. 2ol PRCELIUM GILLICKANKIANUM. See p. 152. From Johnson's Museum^ p. 105. Grahamius notabilis coegerat montanos, Qui clypeis et gladiis fugarunt Anglicanos ; Fugerant Vallicolse, atque Purltani, Caeavere Batavi et Cameroniani. Grahamius mirabllis, fortissimus Alcides, Cujus regi fuerat intemerata fides, Agiles monticolas marte inspiravit, Et duplicatum numerum hostium profligavit Nobilis apparuit Fermilodunensis, Cujus in rebelles stringebatur ensis ; Nobilis et sanguine, nobilior virtute, Regi devotissimus intus et in cute. Pitcurius heroicus. Hector Scoticanus, Cui mens fidelis fuerat et invicta manus, Capita rebellium, is excerebravit, Hostes unitissimos ille dimicavit. Glengarius magnanimus atque bellicosus, Functus ut Eneas, pro rege aniraosus, Fortis atque strenuus, hostes expugnavit, Sanguine rebellium campos coloravit. Surrexerat fideliter Donaldus Insulanus, Pugnaverat viriliter, cum copiis Skyanis, Pater atque filii non dissimularunt, Sed pro rege proprio unanimes pugnarunt,. Macleanius, circumdatus tribo martiali,. Semper, devinctissimus familiae regali, 252 PRCELICM GILLICRANKIANUJit. Fortiter pufrnaverat, more atavorum, Deinde dissipaverat turmas Batavorum. Strenuus Lochiellus, multo Camerone, Hostes ense peremh, et abrlo pugione; Istos et intrepidos Oreo dedicavit, Impedimenta hostium Blaro reportavlt. Macneillius de Bara, Glencous Kepoehanus, Ballechinus, cum fratre, Stuartus Apianus, . Pro Jacobo Septimo fortiter gessere, Pugiles fortissimi, feliciter vicere. Canonicus clarissimus Gallovidianus, Acer et indomitus, consilioque sanus, Ibi dux adfuerat, spectabilis persona, Nam pro tuenda patria, hunc peperit Bellona Ducalidoni dominum spreverat gradivus, Nobills et juvenis, fortis et activus : Nam cum nativum principem exulem audiret, Redit ex Hungana ut regi inserviret. lUlc et adfuprat tutor Ranaldorum, Qui strenue pugnaverat cum copiis virorum ; Et ipse Capetaneus, aetate puerill, Intentus est ad proelium, spiritu virili. Glenmoristonus junior, optimus belfcitor Subito jam factus, hactenus venator, Perduelles Whiggeos ut pecora prostravit, Ense et fulmineo Mackaium fugavit. Reglbus et legibus, Scotici constantes, Vos clypeis et gladiis pro principe pugnantes, Vestra est victoria, vestra est et gloria, In cantis et historia perpes est memorial THE BOYNE WATER. 253 THE BOYNE WATER. This momentous battle was fought on the 1st of July, 1690. James had a strong position and thirty thousand men, two thirds of whom were a worthless rabble. William had thirty-six thousand splendid soldiers. The loss on neither side was great. Of James's troops there fell fifteen hundred, the flower of his army ; of the conqueror's not more than five, but with them the great Duke of Schomberg. The present version of this ballad is from Croker's His- torical Songs of Ireland^ p. 60, given from a MS. copy in the editor's possession. July the first, in Oldbridge town,i There was a grievous battle, Where many a man lay on the ground, By the cannons that did rattle. King James he pitched his tents between The lines for to retire ; But King William threw his bomb-balls in, And set them all on fire. Thereat enraged, they vow'd revenge, Upon King William's forces ; 1 The Dutch guards first entered the river Boyne at a ford opposite to the little village of Oldbridge. — Croker. 254 THE BOTNE WATER. And often did cry vehemently, That they would stop their courses. A bullet from the Irish came, Which grazed King William's arm; They thought his majesty was slain, Yet it did him little harm. Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care. His king would often caution To shun the spot where bullets hot Retain'd their rapid motion. But William said — " He don't deserve The name of Faith's defender, That would not venture life and limb To make a foe surrender." When we the Boyne began to cross, The enemy they descended ; But few of our brave men were lost, So stoutly we defended. The horse was the first that marched o'er, The foot soon followed a'ter, But brave Duke Schomberg was no more, By venturing over the water. When vahant Schomberg he was slain, King William thus accosted His warlike men, for to march on. And he would be the foremost. *' Brave boys," he said, " be not dismayed For the losing of one commander; For God will be our king this day. And ril be general under." THK BOYI^E WATER. 265 Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross, To give our enemies battle ; Our cannon, to our foes great cost, Like thundering claps did rattle, In majestic mien our prince rode o'er, His men soon followed a'ter ; ' With blows and shouts put our foes to the route, The day we crossed the water. The Protestants of Drogheda Have reasons to be thankful, That they were not to bondage brought, They being but a handful. First to the Tholsel they Avere brought, And tied at Milmount a'ter, i But brave King William set them free. By venturing over the water. The cunning French, near to Duleek^ Had taken up their quarters, And fenced themselves on every side. Still waiting for new orders. 1 "After the battle of the Bojme, the Popish gan-ison of Drogheda took the Protestants out of prison, into which they had thrown them, and canned them to the Mount; where they expected the cannon would play, if King William's forces besieged the town. They tied them together, and set them to receive the shot; but their hearts failed them wh(! were to defend the place, and so it pleased God to preser\ e the poor Protestants." — Memoirs of Ireland, ^c, cited by Croker. - "When in the course of the day, the battle approached James's position on the hill of Donore, the warlike pi'ince retired to a more secure distance at Duleek. where he soon 256 THE BOTNE WATER. But in the dead time of the night, They set the field on fire ; And long before the morning light, To Dublin they did retire. Then said King William to his men, After the French departed, " I'm glad," said he, " that none of ye Seemed to be faint-hearted. So sheath your swords, and rest awhile, In time we'll follow a'ter : " These words he uttered with a smile, The day he crossed the water. Come, let us all, with heart and voice, Applaud our lives' defender, Who at the Boyne his valour shewed, And made his foes surrender. To God above the praise we'll give, Both now and ever a'ter. And bless the glorious memory Of King WilUam that crossed the Boyne water. put himself at the head of his French allies, and led the retreat; the King and the French coming off without a scar.'" — O'Driscol, cited by Croker. THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 257 THE WOMAN WARRIOR, Who liv'd in Cow-Cross, near West-Smithfield ; who, chang- ing her apparel, entered herself on board in quality of a soldier, and sailed to Ireland, where she valiantly behaved herself, particularly at the siege of Cork, where she lost her toes, and received a mortal wound in her body of which she since died in her return to London. From Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy^ v. 8. Cork was taken September 27-29, 1690, by the Duke (then Earl) of Marlborough, with the coopera- tion of the Duke of Wirtemberg. The Duke of Grafton, then serving as a volunteer, was mortally wounded while advancing to the assault. Croker sugr- gests that this lamentation for the heroine of Cow- Cross, "the Mary Ambree of her age," was one of the many indirect efforts made to bring the military skill of Marlborough into popular notice. Let the females attend To the lines which are penn'd, For here I shall give a relation Of a young marry'd wife. Who did venture her life, For a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation. She her husband did leave, And did likewise receive Her arms, and on board she did enter. And right valiantly went, With a resolution bent To the ocean, the ocean, her life there to venture. VOL. VII. 17 258 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. Yet of all the ship's crew, Not a seaman that knew They then had a woman so near *em ; On the ocean so deep She her council did keep, Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em. She was valiant and bold. And would not be controul'd By any that dare to offend her ; If a quarrel arose, She would give him dry blows, And the captain, the captain did highly commend her. For he took her to be Then of no mean degree, A gentleman's son, or a squire ; With a hand white and fair. There was none could compare. Which the captain, the captain did often admire. On the Irish shore, Where the cannons did roar, With many stout lads she was landed; There her life to expose. She lost two of her toes. And in battle, in battle was daily commended. Under Grafton she fought Like a brave hero stout. And made the proud Tories retire ; THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 259 She in field did appear With a heart void of fear, And she bravely, she bravely did charge and ^ve fire. While the battering balls Did assault the strong walls Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded, She did bravely advance WJiere by unhappy chance This young female, young female, alas I she was wounded. At the end of the fray Still she languishing lay, Then over the ocean they brought her, To her own native shore : Now they ne'er knew before That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter. ^^'hat she long had conceal'd Now at length she reveal'd, That she was a woman that ventur'd ; Then to London with care She did straitways repair, But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd When her parents beheld, They with sorrow was fill'd. For why, they did dearly adore her ; [n her grave now she lies, 'Tis not watery eyes. No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her. 260 THE BATTLE OF SHERIE'F-MUIK. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN WILL LICK-LADLE AND TOM CLEAN- COGUE, TWA SHEPHERDS, WHA WERE FEEDING THEIR FLOCKS ON THE OCHIL-HILLS ON THE DAY THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MOOR WAS FOUGHT. (See p. 156. From Ritson's Scottish Songs, ii. 67.) W. Pray came you here the fight to shun, Or keep the sheep with me, man ? Or was you at the Sheriff-moor, And did the battle see, man V Pray tell whilk of the parties won ? For well I wat I saw them run. Both south and north, when they begun, To pell and mell, and kill and fell. With muskets snell, and pistols knell. And some to hell Did flee, man T. But, my dear Will, I kenna still, Whilk o' the twa did lose, man ; For well I wat they had good skill To set upo' their foes, man : The red-coats they are traln'd, you see. The clans always disdain to flee, Wha then should gain the victory ? But the Highland race, all in a brace. With a swift pace, to the Whigs disgrace. Did put to chace Their foes, man THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR. 261 IV. Now how diel, Tam, can this be true ? I saw the chace gae north, man. T. But well I wat they did pursue Them even unto Forth, man. Frae Dumblain they ran in my own sight, And got o'er the bridge with all their might, And those at Stirling took their flight ; Gif only ye had been wi' me. You had seen them flee, of each degree, For fear to die Wi' sloth, man. W. My sister Kate came o'er the hill, Wi' crowdie unto me, man ; She swore she saw them running still Frae Perth unto Dundee, man. The left wing gen'ral had na skill. The Anojus lads had no good will That day their neighbours blood to spill ; For fear by foes that they should lose Their cogues of brose, all crying woes — Yonder them goes, D*ye see, man ? T. I see but few like gentlemen Amang yon frighted crew, man ; fear my Lord Panmure be slain, Or that he's ta'en just now, man .. For tho' his ofiicers obey, ' His cowardly commons run away, For fear the red-coats them should slay ; The sodgers hail make their hearts fail ; 262 THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR. See how they scale, and turn their tail, And rin to flail And plow, man. W. But now brave Angus comes again Into the second fight, man ; They swear they'll either dye or gain, No foes shall them afii'ight, man : Argyle's best forces they'll withstand, And boldly fight them sword in hand. Give them a general to command, A man of might, that will but fight, And take delight to lead them right. And ne'er desire The flight, man. But Flandrekins^ they have no skill To lead a Scotish force, man ; Their motions do our courage spill. And put us to a loss, man. You'll hear of us far better news, When we attack hke Highland trews. To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise, Till the field, tho' braid, be all o'erspread, But coat or plaid, wi' coi^pse that's dead In their cold bed. That's moss, maa T Twa gen'rals frae the field did run. Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man ; 1 By Flanderkins are meant Lieutenant-General Fander- beck and Colonels Rantzaw and Cromstrora.— Hogg. THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR. 2t>3 Tliey cry'd and run grim death to shun, Those heroes of the North, man ; They're fitter far for book or pen, Than under Mars to lead on men ; Ere they came there they might well ken That female hands could ne'er gain lands ; 'Tis Highland brands that countermands Argathlean bands Frae Forth, man. W The Camerons scow'r'd as they were mad, Lifting their neighbours cows, man, M'Kenzie and the Stewart fled, Without phil'beg or trews, man : Had they behav'd Uke Donald's core, And kill'd all those came them before, Their king had gone to France no more : Then each Whig saint wad soon repent, And strait recant his covenant. And rent T. M'Gregors they far off did stand, Badenach and Athol too, man ; I hear they wanted the command, For I believe them true, man. Perth, Fife, and Angus, wi' their horse, Stood motionless, and some did worse, For, tho' the red-coats went them cross, They did conspire for to admire Clans run and fire, left wings retire, While rights intire Pursue, naan. iw 2G4 UP AND WAR THEM A', WILLIE. W. But Scotland has not much to say, For such a fight as this is, Where baith did fight, baith run away ; The devil take the miss is That every officer was not slain That run that day, and was not ta'en, Either flying from or to Dumblain ; When Whig and Tory, in their 'fury,* Strove for glory, to our sorrow, The sad story Hush is. UP AND WAR THEM A', WHXIE. See p. 156» From Herd's Scotish Songs, ii. 234. The same in Ritson's ScotisJi Songs, ii. 73. Burns furnished a somewhat different version to Johnson's Museum (p. 195, also in Cromek's Select ScotisJi Songs, ii. 29), vvhich he obtained from one Tom Neil, a carpenter in Edinburgh, who was famous for his singing of Scottish songs. The title and burden to this version is Up y%nd warn a', fVillie, an allusion, says Burns, to the crantara, or warning of a Highland c]an to arms, which the Lowlanders, not understanding, have cor- rupted. There is another copy in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 18, which is nearly the same as the fol- lowing. When the Earl of Mar first raised his standard, and proclaimed the Chevalier, the ornamental ball on the top of the staff fell off, and the superstitious High- UP AND WAR THEM A', WILLIE. 265 landers interpreted the circumstance as ominous of ill for their cause. This is the incident referred to in the third stanza. When we went to the field of war, And to the weapon-shaw, Willie, With true design to stand our ground, And chace our faes awa', Willie, Lairds and lords came there bedeen, And vow gin they were pra', Willie : Up and war 'em a', Willie, War 'em, war *em a\ Willie. And when our army was drawn up, The bravest e'er I saw, Willie, We did not doubt to rax the rout. And win the day and a', Willie ; Pipers play'd frae right to left, " Fy, fourugh Whigs awa'," Willie. Up and war, ^c. But when our standard was set up, So fierce the wind did bla', Willie, The golden knop down from the top Unto ground did fa', Willie : Then second-sighted Sandy said, " We'll do nae good at a', Willie.** Up and loar, Sfc. When bra'ly they attack'd our left. Our front, and flank, and a', ^Villie, Our bald commander on the green, Our faes their left did ca', Willie, 206 UP AND WAR THEM a', WILLIE. And mere the greatest slaughter made That e'er poor Ton aid saw, Willie. Up and war, 8fc. First when they saw our Highland mob. They swore they'd slay us a', Willie ; And yet ane fyl'd his breiks for fear, And so did rin awa', Willie : We drave him back to Bonnybrigs, Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie. Up and war, 8fc. But when their gen'ral view'd our lines, And them in order saw, Willie, He straight did march into the town. And back his left did draw, Willie: Thus we taught them the better gate, To get a better fa', Willie. Up and war, Sfc. And then we rally'd on the hills. And bravely up did draw, Willie ; But gin ye spear wha wan the day, I'll tell you what I saw, Willie : We baith did fight, and baith were beat. And baith did run awa', Willie. So there's my canty Highland sang About the thing I saw, Willie. THE MAKQUIS OF HUNTLEY's RETREAT. 267 THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLEY'S RETREAT FROM THE BATTLE OF SHERIFFMUIR. See p. 156. From A New Book of Old Ballads, p. 30. Hogg Inserted tins ballad in tbe Jacobite Relics^ n. 13, using, says Maidment, the editor of the publi- cation cited above, a very imperfect manuscript copy. The following version w^as taken from the original broad-side, supposed to be unique. There are very considerable variations In the language of the two copies, and the order of the stanzas is quite different. This says Hogg, " is exclusively a party song, made by some of the Grants, or their adherents. In obloquy of their more potent neighbours, the Gordons. It is in a great measure unti-ue ; for, though the Marquis of Huntley was on the left wing at the head of a body of horse, and among the gentlemen that fled, yet two battalions of Gordons, or at least of Gordon's vassals, perhaps mostly of the Clan Chattan, behaved them- selves as well as any on the field, and were particularly instrumental in breaking the Whig cavalry, or the left wing of their army, and driving them back among their foot. On this account, as well as that of the bitter personalities that it contains, the " song Is only curious as an Inveterate party song, and not as a genuine humorous description of the fight that the Marquis ap4 his friends were \^. The latter part of 268 THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLET's RETREAT. the [third] stanza seems to allude to an engagement that took place at Dollar, on the 24th October, a fort- night previous to the battle of Sheriffmuir. Mar had despatched a small body of cavalry to force an assessment from the town of Dunfermline, of which Argyle getting notice, sent out a stronger party, who surprised them early in the morning before daylight, and arrested them, killing some and taking seventeen prisoners, several of whom were Gordons. The last stanza [but one] evidently alludes to the final sub- mission of the Marquis and the rest of the Gordons to King George's government, which they did to the Grants and the Earl of Sutherland. The former had previously taken possession of Castle Gordon; of course, the malicious bard of the Grants, with his ill- scraped pen, was not to let that instance of the humil- iation of his illustrious neighbours pass unnoticed. — Jacobite Relics, vol. ii. p. 255. From Bogie side to Bogie Gight, The Gordons all conveen'd, man. With all their might, to battle wight, ^ Together closes they join'd man, To set their king upon the throne, And to protect the church, man ; But fy for shame ! they soon ran hame, And left him in the lurch, man. Vow as the Marquis ran^ Coming from Vumhlane, man! Strahogie did b — t itself, And Enzie was not clean, man. 1 weight. 2 tloss. THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLET's RETREAT, 269 Their chieftain was a man of fame, And doughty deeds had wrought, man, Which future ages still shall name. And tell how well he fought, man. For when the battle did begin. Immediately his Grace, man, Put spurs to Florance,! and so ran By all, and wan the race, man. Vow, S^-c. The Marquis* horse was first sent forth, Glenbucket's foot to back them. To give a proof what they were worth, If rebels durst attack them. With loud huzzas to Huntly's praise. They near'd Dumfermling Green, man. But fifty horse, and de'il ane mair, Turn'd many a Highland clan, man. Vow, S;c. The second chieftain of that clan, For fear that he should die, man. To gain the honour of his name, Rais'd first the mutinie, man. And then he wrote unto his Grace, The great Duke of Argyle, man. And swore, if he would grant him peace, The Tories he'd beguile, man. Vow, Sec. 1 His horse, so called from havmg been a present from the Grand Duke of Tuscany. — M. 270 THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLET's RETREAT* The Master 1 with thebulHe's face, And with the coward's heart, man, Who never fails, to his disgrace. To act a traitor's part, man, lie join'd Drumboig, the greatest knave In all the shire of Fife, man. He was the first the cause did leave, By council of his wife, man. Vow, Sfc. A member of the tricking trade, An Ogilvie by name, man, Consulter of the grumbling club, To his eternal shame, man. Who would have thought, when he came out, That ever he would fail, man ? And like a fool, did eat the cow, And worried on the tail, man. Vow, Sfc. Meflfan Smith, 2 at Sheriff Muir, Gart folk believe he fought, man ; But well it's known, that all he did, That day it serv'd for nought, man. For towards night, when Mar march'd off, Smith was put in the rere, man ; 1 Master of Sinclair, whose Court-Mai'tial has been printed with an exceedingly interesting preface by Sir Walter Scoct, as his contribution to the Roxburghe Club. 2 David Smith was then proprietor of Methven, an estate in Perthshire. He died in 1735. Douglas, in his Baronage, terms him, " a man of good parts, great sagacity, and econ- omy." — M. THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLl!.r'S RETREAT. 271 He curs'd, lie swore, he baul[le]d out, He would not stay for fear, man. Vow, Sfc. But at the first he seem'd to be A man of good renown, man ; But when the grumbling work began, He prov'd an arrant lown, man. Against Mar, and a royal war, A letter he did forge, man ; Against his Prince, he wrote nonsense, And swore by Royal George,^ man. Vow, Sfc. At Poineth boat, Mr. Francis Stewart,^ A valiant hero stood, man, In acting of a royal part. Cause of the royal blood, man. But when at Sheriff Moor he found That bolting w ould not do it. He, brother like, did quite his ground, And ne're came back unto it. Vow, Sfc. Brunstane said it was not fear That made him stay behind, man ; But that he had resolv'd that day To sleep in a whole skin, man. 1 Altered in MS. to " German George." — M. 2 Brother to Charles, 5th Earl of Moray. Upon his brother's death, 7th October, 1735, he became the 6th Earl. He died in the 66th year of his age, on the 11th December, V739. — M. 272 THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLEY's RETREAT, The gout, he said, made him take [bed], AVhen battle first began, man ; But when he heard his Marquis fled, He took his heels and ran, man. Vow, Sfc. Sir James of Park, he left his horse In the middle of a wall, man ; And durst not stay to take him out, For fear a knight should fall, man ; And Maien he let such a crack. And shewed a pantick fear, man ; And Craigieheads swore he was shot, And curs'd the chance of wear, man. Vow, S^c. When they march'd on the Sheriff Moor, With courage stout and keen, man ; Who would have thought the Gordons gay That day should quite the green, man ? Auchleacher and Auchanachie, And all the Gordon tribe, man. Like their great Marquis, they could not The smell of powder bide, man. Vow, Sfc. Glenbuicket cryed, " Plague on you all, For Gordons do no good, man ; For all that fled this day, it is Them of the Seaton blood, man." Clashtirim said it was not so. And that he'd make appear, man ; THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLEY's RETREAT. 273 For lie, a Seaton, stood that day, AVlien Gordons ran for fear, man. VoWy Sfc, The Gordons they are kittle flaws, They'll fight with heaii; and hand, man ; AVTien they met in Strathbogie raws On Thursday afternoon, man ; But when the Grants came doun the brae, Their Enzie shook for fear, man ; And all the lairds rode up themselves, With horse and riding gear, man. Vow^ Src. Cluny 2 plays his game of chess. As sure as any tiling, man ; And like the royal Gordons race. Gave check unto the king, man. Without a queen, its clearly seen. This game cannot recover ; I'd do my best, then in great haste Play up the rook Hanover. Vow, Sj-c. 1 This seems rather Gordon of Cluny than Cluny Mac- pherson. The estate of Cluny has passed from the ancient race, though still possessed by a Gordon. — M. TOL. VII. 18 274 JOHNIE COPE.. JOHNIE COPE. See p. 168. Johnson's Museum (1853), vol. iv. p. 220, Ritson's tkottuh ii. 84. Cope sent a challenge frae Dunbar, " Charlie meet me, an ye daur, And I'll learn you the airt of war. If you'll meet wi' me in the morning." Hey, Johnie Cope ! are ye waking yet f Or are your drums a-heaiing yet ? If ye were waking^ I would wait To gang to the coals V the morning. When Charlie looked the letter upon, He drew his sword the scabbard from, " Come, follow me, my merry men, And we'll meet Johnie Cope i' the morning." Hey, Johnie Cope ! Sfc. " Now, Johnie, be as good as your word, Come let us try baith fire and sword. And dinna flee like a frighted bird, That's chased frae its nest i' the morning." Hey, Johnie Cope! Sfc. When Johnie Cope he heard of this, He thought it wadna be amiss To hae a horse in readiness, To flee awa i' the morning. Hey, Johnie Cope ! S^c. JOHNIE COPE. 275 " Fye now, Johnle, get up and rin, The Highland bagpipes mak a din ; It's best to sleep in a hale skin, For 'twill be a bluddle morning." Hey, Johnie Cope ! S^^c, WhQu Johnie Cope to Dunbar came They spear'd at him, " AVbere's a' your men ? " *' The deil confound me gin I ken, For I left them a' i' the morning." Hey, Johnie Cope I ^'C. " Now Johnie, troth, ye were na blate To come wi' the news o* your ain defeat, And leave your men in sic a strait, So early in the morning." Hey, Johnie Cope I Sfc. " In faith," quo Johnie, " I got sic flegs Wi' their claymores and filabegs, If I face them [again], dell break my legs, So I Avish you a' good morning.** Hey, Johnie Cope I Sfc, 276 KING LEIR AND HIS KING LEIR AND HIS THREE DAUGHTERS. IE'rom a Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 8. The same, with one or two trifling verbal differences, in Percy's Reliques, i. 246. This story was originally told by Geoffrey of Mon- mouth, Historla Britonum, lib. ii. c. 2. It occurs in two forms in the Gesta Romanorum: see Madden's Old English Versions, p. 44, p. 450. Shakespeare's King Lear was first printed in 1608, and is supposed to have been written between 1603 and 1605. Another drama on the .subject was printed in 1605, called The true Chronicle History of King Leir and his Three Daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordelia. This was probably only a new impression of a piece entered in the Stationers' Registers as early as 1594. The ballad which follows agrees with Shakespeare's play in several particulars in which Shakespeare varies from the older drama and from Hollnshed, the authority of both dramas. The name Cordelia is also found in place of the Cordelia of the Chronicle History ; but, on the other hand, we have Ragan instead of Shakespeare's Regan. In the ab- sence of a date, we are unable to determine whether the ballad was written prior to the play of King Lear, or was founded upon it. King Leir once ruled in this land With princely power and peace, And had all things, with hearts content, That might his joys increase. Amongst those things that nature gave, THREE DAUGHTERS. 27> Three daughters fair had he, So princely seeming beautiful, As fairer could not be. So on a time it pleas'd the king A question thus to move, Which of his daughters to his grace Could shew the dearest love : " For to my age you bring content,'* Quoth he, " then let me hear, Which of you three in plighted troth The kindest will appear.** To whom the eldest thus began : " Dear father, mind,'* quoth she, " Before your face, to do you good. My blood shall rendred be. And for your sake my bleeding heart Shall here be cut in twain. Ere that I see your reverend age The smallest grief sustain.'* "And so will I," the second said ; " Dear father, for your sake, The worst of all extremities I'll gently undertake : And serve your highness night and day With diligence and love ; That sweet content and quietness Discomforts may remove.'* ** In doing so, you glad my soul,** The aged king reply'd ; 278 KING LEIR AND HIS « But what say'st thou, my youngest girl ? How is thy love ally'd ? " *' My love," quoth young Cordelia then, " Which to your grace I owe, Shall be the duty of a child, And that is all I'll show." "And wilt thou shew no more," quoth he, " Than doth thy duty bind ? I well perceive thy love is small, When as no more I find. Henceforth I banish thee my court ; Thou art no child of mine ; Nor any part of this my realm By favour shall be thine. " Thy elder sisters' loves are more Than well I can demand ; To whom I equally bestow My kingdom and my land. My pompous state and all my goods, That lovingly I may With those thy sisters be maintain'd Until my dying day." Thus flattering speeches won renown, By these two sisters here ; The third had causeless banishment, Yet was her love more dear. For poor Cordelia patiently Went wandring up and down, Unhelp'd, unpitied, gentle maid, Through many an English town. THREE DAUGHTERS. 279 Until at last in famous France She gentler fortunes found ; Though poor and bare, yet she was deem'd The fairest on the ground : Where when the king her virtues heard, And this fair lady seen, With full consent of aU his court He made his wife and queen. Her father, old King Leir, this -while With his two daughters staid ; Forgetful of their promis'd loves, Full soon the same decay'di ; And living in Queen Ragan's court, The eldest of the twain, She took froih him his chiefest means, And most of all his train. For whereas twenty men were wont To wait with bended knee. She gave allowance but to ten, And after scarce to three, Nay, one she thought too much for him ; So took she aU away. In hope that in her court, good king, He would no longer stay. *'Am I rewarded thus," quoth he, " In giving all I have Unto my children, and to beg For what I lately gave ? I'll go unto my Gonorel : 1 deny'd. 280 KING LEIR AND HIS My second cMld, I know, Will be more kind and pitiful, And -will relieve my woe." Full fast he hies then to her court ; Where, when she hears his moan, Return'd him answer, that she griev*d That all his means were gone ; But no way could relieve his wants ; Yet if that he would stay Within her kitchen, he should have What scullions gave away. When he had heard, with bitter tears, He made his answer then ; " In what I did, let me be made Example to all men. I will return again," quoth he, " Unto my Ragan's court ; She will not use me thus, I hope, But in a kinder sort." Where when he came, she gave command To drive him thence away : When he was well within her court, She said, he would not stay. Then back again to Gonorell The woeful king did hie. That in her kitchen he might have What scullion boys set by. But there of that he was deny*d Which she had promis'd late: THREE DAUGHTERS. 281 For once refusing, he should not Come after to her gate. Thus twixt his daughters for relief He wandred up and down, Being glad to feed on beggars food, That lately wore a crown. And calling to remembrance then His youngest daughter's words, That said, the duty of a child Was all that love affords — But doubting to repair to her, Whom he had banish'd so. Grew frantick mad ; for in his mind He bore the wounds of woe. Which made him rend his milk-white locks And tresses from his head. And all with blood bestain his cheeks, With age and honour spread. To hills and woods and watry founts He made his hourly moan. Till hills and woods and senseless things Did seem to sigh and groan. Ev'n thus posses'd with discontents, He passed o'er to France, In hopes from fair Cordelia there To find some gentler chance. Most virtuous dame ! which, when she heard Of this her father's grief, As duty bound, she (juickly sent Him comfort and relief 282 KING LEIR AND HIS THREE DAUGHTERS. And by a train of noble peers, In brave and gallant sort, She gave in charge he should be brought To Aganippus' court ; Whose royal king, with noble mind,i So freely gave consent To muster up his knights at arms, To fame and courage bent. And so to England came with speed, To repossess King Leir, And drive his daughters from their thrones By his Cordelia dear. Where she, true-hearted, noble queen. Was in the battel slain ; Yet he, good king, in his old days, Possess'd his crown again. But when he heard Cordelia's death, Who died indeed for love Of her dear father, in whose cause She did this battel move. He swooning fell upon her breast. From whence he never parted ; But on her bosom left his life That was so truly hearted. The lords and nobles, when they saw The end of these events. The other sisters unto death They doomed by consents ; 1 whose noble. FAIR ROSAMOND. 283 And being dead, their crowns they left Unto the next of kin : Thus have you seen the fall of pride, And disobedient sin. FAIR ROSAMOND. The celebrated mistress of Henry the Second was daughter to Walter ClifTord, a baron of Herefordshire. She bore the king two sons, one of them while he was still Duke of Normandy. Before her death she retired to the convent of Godstow, and there she was buried ; but Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, not courtly enough to distinguish between royal and vulgar im- moralities, caused her body to be removed, and interred in the common cemetery, "lest Christian religion should grow in contempt." The story of Queen Eleanor's poisoning her rival is not confirmed by the old writers, though they men- tion the labyrinth. All the romance in Rosamond's history appears to be the offspring of popular fancy. Percy has collected the principal passages from the chronicles in his preface to' the ballad. Fair Rosamond is the work of Thomas Deloney, a well-known ballad-maker who died about 1600. Our copy is the earliest that is known, and is taken from Deloney's Strange Histories^ ed. of 1607, as reprinted by the Percy Society, vol. iii. p. 54. The same is found in the Crown Garland of Golden Roses, ed. 1659 (Per. Soc. vol. vi. p. 12), and in the Garland of Good Will,ed. 1678 (Per. Soc. voL xxx. p. 1.) : 284 FAIR ROSAMOND. and besides, with trifling variations, in A Collection of Old Ballads, i. 11, Percy's Reliques, ii. 151, and Ritson's Ancient Songs, ii. 120, from black-letter copies. Another ballad with the title of the Unfortunate Concubine J or, Rosamond's Overthrow, is given in the collection of 1723, vol. i. p. 1. The story is also treated in the forty-first chapter of Warner's Albion's England. Warner has at least one good stanza,^ which is more than can be said of this wretched, but very popular, production. Some corrections have been adopted from the Crown Garland of Golden Roses. When as King Henrie rul'd this land. The second of that name. Beside the Queene, he dearly loved A faire and princely dame. Most peerelesse was her beautie found, Her favour, and her face ; A sweeter creature in this world Did never prince imbrace. Her crisped locks like threades of gold Appeared to each mans sight ; Her comely eyes, like orient pearles, Did cast a heavenly light. Tlie blood within her cristall cheekes Did such a cullour drive, 1. With that she dasht her on the lips, So dy6d double red; Hard was the lieart that gave the blow, Soft were those lips that bled. FAIR ROSAMOND. 285 As thougL the lilly and the rose For maistership did strive. Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamond, Her name was called so, To -whome dame Elinor, our queene, Was knowne a cruell foe. The king therefore, for her defence Against the furious queene, At Woodstocke buylded such a bower, The like was never scene. Most curiously that jDower was buylt, Of stone and timber strong; A hundred and fiftie doores Did to that bower belong : And they so cunningly contriv'd, With turning round about. That none but by a clew of thread Could enter in or out. And for his love and ladyes sake, That was so fair and bright. The keeping of this bower he gave Unto a valiant knight. But fortune, that doth often frowne Where she before did smile. The kinges delight, the ladyes joy Full soone she did beguile. For why, the kings ungracious sonne. Whom he did high advance. Against his father raised warres 286 FAIR ROSAMOND. Within the realme of France. But yet before our comely king The English land forsooke, Of Rosamond, his ladye faire, His farewell thus he tooke : " My Rosamond, my onely Rose, That pleaseth best mine eye, The fairest Rose in all the world To feed my fantasie, — " The flower of my affected heart, Whose sweetness doth excell, My royall Rose, a hundred times I bid thee now farewell ! " For I must leave my fairest flower, My sweetest Rose, a space. And crosse the seas to famous France, Proude rebels to abace. " But yet, my Rose, be sure thou shalt My comming shortly see, And in my heart, while hence I am, lie beare my Rose with mee." When Rosamond, that lady bright, Did heare the king say so, The sorrow of her greeved heart Her outward lookes did show. And from her cleare and cristall eyes The teares gusht out apace, Which, like the silver-pearled deaw. Ran downe her comely face. FAIR ROSAMOND. 287 Her lippes, like to a corrall red, Did waxe both wan and pale, And for tlie sorrow she conceived Her vitall spirits did fayle. And falling downe all in a swound^ Before King Henries face, Full oft betweene his princelv armes Her corpes he did imbrace. And twenty times, with waterie eyes, He kist her tender cheeke, Untill she had received- againe Her senses milde and meeke. " Why grieves my Rose, my sweetest Rose ? " The king did ever say : " Because," q^ioth she, " to bloody warres My lord must part away. " But sithe your Grace in forraine coastes, Among your foes unkind, Must go to hazard life and limme, Why should I stay behind ? " Nay, rather let me, like a page, Your sword and target^ be are ; That on my breast the blow may light, Which should annoy you there. " O let me, in your royall tent, Prepare your bed at night, And with sweet baths refresh your grace, 1 sound. 2 hehad reviv'd.— C G, 3 shield: sword, Garl G. W. 288 FAIR ROSAMOND. At your returne from fight. " So I your presence may enjoy, No toyle I will refuse^ ; But wanting you, my life is death: Which doth true love abuse.** " Content thy selfe, my dearest friend, Thy rest at home shall bee, In Englands' - sweete and pleasant soyle ; For travaile fits not thee. " Faire ladyes brooke not bloody warres : Sweete peace their pleasures breede, The nourisher of hearts content, Which fancie first doth feede. "My Rose shall rest in Woodstocke bower, With musickes sweete delight. While I among the pierceing pikes Against my foes do fight. " My Rose in robes of pearl and gold,^ With diamonds richly dight, Shall daunce the galliards of my love. While I my foes do smite. "And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust To be * my loves defence, Be carefull of my gallant Rose When I am parted hence." And therewithal! he fetcht a sigh, 1 must refuse. 2 Englaand. 3 robes and pearls of gold, beare. FAIR ROSAMOND. 289 As tlioiigli his heart would breake : And Rosamond, for inward griefe, Not one plaine word could speake. And at their parting well they might In heart be grieved sore : After that day, faire Rosamond The King did see no more. For when his Grace had past the seas, And into France was gone, Queene Elinor, with envious heart, To Woodstocke came anone. And foorth she cald this trusty knight Which kept the curious bower, Who, with his clew of twined threed, Came from that famous flower. And when that they had wounded him, The queene his threed did get. And went where lady Rosamond Was like an angell set. And when the queene with stedfast eye Beheld her heavenly face, She was amazed in her minde At her exceeding grace. " Cast off from thee thy robes," she sayd, " That rich and costly be ; And ilrinke thou up this deadly draught, Which I have brought for thee." But presently upon her knees Sweet Rosajnond did fall ; VOL. VIT. 19 290 FAIK ROSAMOND. And pardon of the qiieene she crav'd For her offences all. " Take pittie on my youthful! yeares,** Faire Rosamond did cry ; "And let me not with poyson strong Inforced be to die. " I will renounce this sinful! life, And in a cloyster bide ; Or else be banisht, if you please, To range the world so wide. "And for the fault which I have done, Though I was forst thereto. Preserve my life, and punish me As you thinke good to do." And with these words, her lilly hands She wrang full often there ; And downe along her lovely cheekes Proceeded many a teare. But nothing could this furious queeno Therewith appeased bee ; The cup of deadly poyson filld. As she sat on her knee, She gave the comely dame to drinke ; Who tooke it in her hand, And from her bended knee arose. And on her feet did stand. And casting up her eyes to heaven, She did for mercy call ; And drinking up the poyson then, Her life she lost withal!. FAIR ROSAMOND. 291 And when that death through every llm Had done his greatest spite, Her chiefest foes did plaine confesse She was a glorious wight. Her body then they did intombe, When life was fled away, At Godstow, neere [to] Oxford towne, As may be seene this day. QUEEN ELEANOR'S FALL. A Collection of Old Ballads, I 97. •* I NEVER was more surprised," says the editor of the Collection of 1 723, " than at the sight of the fol- lowing ballad ; little expecting to see pride and wick- edness laid to the charge of the most affable and most virtuous of women : whose glorious actions are not recorded by our historians only; for no foreign writers, who have touched upon those early times, have in silence passed over this illustrious princess, and every nation rings with the praise of Eleonora Isabella of Castile, King Edward's Queen. Father Le Monie, who (in his Gallerie des Femnies Fortes) has searched all Christendom round, from its very infancy to the last age, for five heroines, very partially bestows the first place upon one of his own country-women, but gives the second, with a far superior character, to this queen.** In this absurdly false and ignorant production, the ^ell-belored Eleonora of Castile is no doubt con- 292 QUEEN ELEANOR'S FALL. founded with her most unpopular mother-in-law, Eleanor of Provence, the wife of Henry the Third, whose luxurious habits, and quarrels with the city ol London, might afford some shadow of a basis for the impossible slanders of the ballad-singer. Queenhithe was a quay, the tolls of which formed part of the revenue of the Queen, and Eleanor of Provence rendered herself extremely odious by compelling ves- sels, for the sake of her fees, to unlade there. Charing- cross was one of thirteen monuments raised by Ed- ward the First at the stages, where his queen's body rested, on its progress from the place of her decease to Westminster. In the connection of both these places with the name of a Queen Eleanor may be found (as JSIiss Strickland suggests in her Lives of the Queens) the germ of the marvellous story of the dis- appearance at Charing-cross and the resurrection at Queenhithe. That portion of the story which relates to the cruelty exercised by the queen towards the Lord Mayor's wife is borrowed from the Gesta Romanorum. See Madden's Old English Versions, &c. p. 226, Olini- pus the Emperour. Peele's Chronicle History of Ed- ward the First exhibits the same misrepresentations of Eleanor of Castile. See what is said of this play in connection with the ballad of Queen Eleanor's Con- fession, vol. vi. p. 209. The whole title of the ballad is: — A AVarning Piece to England against Pride and Wickedness : Peing the Fall of Queen Eleanor, Wife to Edward the First, King of England; who, for her pride, by God's Judgments, sunk into thr '"'round at Charing-cross and rose at Queen- hithe. QUEEN ELEANOK's FALL. 293 When Edward was In England king, The first of all that name, Proud Ellinor he made his queen, A stately Spanish dame : Whose wicked life, and sinful pride, Thro' England did excel : To dainty dames, and gallant maids. This queen was known full well. She was the first that did invent In coaches brave to ride ; She was the first that brought this land To deadly sin of pride. No English taylor here could serve To make her rich attire ; But sent for taylors into Spain, To feed her vain desire. They brought in fashions strange and low, With golden garments bright ; The farthingale, and mighty rufi*. With gowns of rich delight : The London dames. In Spanish pride, Did flourish every where ; Our English men, like women then, Did wear long locks of hair. Both man and child, both maid and wife, Were drown'd in pride of Spain : And thought the Spanish taylors then Our English men did stain : Whereat the queen did much despite, To see our Eno;lIsh men 294 QUEEN Eleanor's fall. In vestures clad, as brave to see As any Spaniard then. She crav'd the king, that ev'ry man That wore long locks of hair, Might then be cut and polled all, Or shaved very near. Whereat the king did seem content, And soon thereto agreed ; And first commanded, that his own Should then be cut with speed : And after that, to please his queen, Proclaimed thro' the land. That ev'ry man that wore long hair Should poll him out of hand. But yet this Spaniard, not content, To women bore a spite. And then requested of the king, Against all law and right, That ev'ry womankind should have Their right breast cut away ; And then with burning irons sear'd, The blood to stanch and stay I King Edward then, perceiving well Her spite to womankind, Devised soon by policy To turn her bloody mind. He sent for burning Irons straight, All sparkling hot to see ; And said, " queen, come on thy way; QUEEN Eleanor's fall. 295 " I will begin with thee." Which words did much displease the queen, That penance to begin ; But ask'd him pardon on her knees ; Who gave her grace therein. But afterwards she chanc'd to pass Along brave London streets, Whereas the mayor of London's wife In stately sort she meets; With music, mirth, and melody, Unto the church they went, To give God thanks, that to th' lord mayor A noble son had sent. It grieved much this spiteful queen, To see that any one Should so exceed in mirth and joy. Except herself alone : For which, she after did devise Within her bloody mind, And practised still more secretly. To kill this lady kind. Unto the mayor of London then She sent her letters straight, To send his lady to the court, Upon her grace to wait. But when the London lady came Before proud El'nor's face. She stript her from her rich array And kept her vile and base. 296 QUEEN Eleanor's fall. She sent her into Wales witli speed, And kept her secret there, And us'd her still more cruelly Than ever man did hear. She made her wash, she made her starch. She made her drudge alway ; She made her nurse up children small, And labour night and day. But this contented not the queen, But shew'd her most despite; She bound this lady to a post, At twelve a clock at night ; And as, poor lady, she stood bound, The queen, in angry mood. Did set two snakes unto her breast. That suck'd away her blood. Thus died the mayor of London's wife, Most grievous for to hear ; Which made the Spaniard grow more proud, As after shall appear. The wheat that daily made her bread Was bolted twenty times ; The food that fed this stately dame, Was boil'd in costly wines. The water that did spring from ground. She would not touch at all ; But wash'd her hands with the dew of heav'n, That on sweet roses fall. She bath'd ber body many a time QUEEN Eleanor's fall. 297 In fountains fill'd with milk ; And ev'ry day did <»hange attire, In costly Median silk. But coming then to London back, Within her coach of gold, A tempest strange within the skies This queen did there behold : Out of which storm she could not go, But there remained a space ; Four horses could not stir the coach A foot out of the place. A judgment lately sent from heav'n, For shedding guiltless blood, Upon this sinful queen, that slew Tlie London lady good ! King Edward then, as wisdom will'd, Accus'd her of that deed ; But she denied, and wish'd that God Would send his wrath with speed, — If that upon so vile a thing Her heart did ever think, She wish'd the ground might open wide, And she therein might sink ! With that, at Charlng-cross she sunk Into the ground alive, And after rose with life again, In London, at Quoenhithe. When, after that, she langulsh'd sore Full twenty days in pain, 298 QUEEN ELEANOR'S FALL, At last confess'd the lady's blood Her guilty hand had slain : And likewise, how that by a fryar She had a base-born child ; Whose sinful lusts and wickedness Her marriage bed defil'd. Thus have you heard the fall of pride, A just reward of sin ; For those who will forswear themselves, God's vengeance daily win. Beware of pride, ye courtly dames. Both wives and maidens all; Bear this imprinted on your mind, That pride must have a fall. THE DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK'S CALAMITY From Strange Histories, p. 1 7 (Percy Society, vo], iii). Other copies, with variations, are in The Croicri' Garland of Golden Roses, Part II. p. 20 (Percy So- ciety, vol. XV.), and A Collection of Old Ballads, iii. 91. The editor of Strange Histories informs us that a play on the same subject as the ballad was written by Thomas Drew, or Drue, early in the reign of James r., and printed in 1631, under the title of The Duchess of Suffolk, her Life. He remarks further that both play and ballad was founded upon the nar THE DUCHESS OF SUFI fative of Fox, anno 1558 [^Acts and A 928, ed. 1641]; but the dliferences bet account and the story which follows are altc great for this supposition to be true. Katharine, daughter of Lord TVIlloughby of . was first married to Charles Brandon, Duke of Sv. and after his death to Richard Bertie, Esq., with ^v she was forced to fly from persecution in 1553, taki ref'jge first in the Low Countries, and afterwards ii Poland. Whex God had taken for our sinne That prudent prince. King Edward, away, Then bloudy Bonner did begin His raging mallice to bewray ; All those that did the Gospell professe He persecuted more or lesse. Thus, when the Lord on us did lower, Many in pryson did he throw, Tormenting them in Lollards tower, i Whereby they might the trueth forgoe : Then Cranmer, Ridley, and the rest, Were burnt in fire, that Christ profest. Smithfield was then with faggots fild, And many places more beside ; At Coventry was Sanders kild. At Glocester eke good Hooper dyde ; And to escape this bloudy day, Beyond-seas many fled away. 1 There is said to be a place so called in ths archiepis- copal palace at Lambeth. DUCHESS OF Suffolk's the rest that sought reliefe ; for their faith in daunger stood, Elizabeth was chiefe, aug Henries daughter of royall blood; hich in ^ the Tower prisoner did lie, ijooking each day when she should die. The Dutchesse of Suffolke, seeing this. Whose life likewise the tyrant sought. Who in the hope of heavenly blisse Within God's word her comfort wrought, For feare of death was faine to flie, And leave her house most secretly. That for the love of Christ alone, Her lands and goods she left behind, Seeking still for that pretious stone, The worde of trueth, so rare to find : She with her nurse, her husband, and child, In poor array their sights beguild. Tims through London they passed along, Each one did passe a severall streets ; Thus all unknowne, escaping wrong. At Billings-gate they all did meete : Jjike people poore, in Gravesend barge, They simply went with all their charge. And all along from Gravesend towne With easie journeyes on foote they went; Unto the sea-coast they came downe, To passe the seas was their intent ; 1 So, C. G. G. R., for which in. CALAMITY. SOI And God provided so that day, That they tooke shippe and sayld away. And with a prosperous gale of wind In Flanders safe they did arive ; This was to their great ease of minde, Which from their hearts much woe did drive And so with thanks to God on hie, They tooke their way to Germanie. Thus as they traveld, thus disguisde, Upon the high way sodalnely By cruell theeves they were surprisde, Assaulting their small companie ; And all their treasure and their store They tooke away, and beate them sore. The nurse in middest of their fight Laid downe the child upon the ground ; She ran away out of their sight. And never after that was found : Then did the Dutchesse make great mone With her good husband all alone. The theeves had there their horses kilde, And all their money quite had tooke ; TJie pretty babie, almost spild. Was by their nurse likewise forsooke, And they farre from their friends did stand, All succourlesse in a strange land. The skies likewise began to scowle ; It hayld and raind in pittious sort ; 802 THE DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK'S The way was long and wonderous foule ; Then may I now full well report Their griefe and sorrow was not small, When this unhappy chaunce did fall. Sometime the Dutchesse bore the child, As wet as ever she could be, A nd when the lady kind and mild Was wearie, then the child bore hee ; And thus they one another easde, And with their fortunes were well pleasde. And after many wearied steppes, All wet-shod both in durt and myre. After much griefe, their hearts yet leapes, (For labour doth some rest require) ; A towne before them they did see, But lodgd therein they could not bee. From house to house they both did goe, Seeking where they that night might lie, But want of money was their woe, And still the babe with cold did crie ; With capp and knee they courtsey make, , But none on them would pittie take. Loe here a princesse of great blood Did pray a peasant for reliefe, With tears bedewed as she stood ! Yet few or none regard es her griefe; Her speech they could not understand, But gave her a pennie in her hand. CALAMITr. 303 When all in vaine the paines was spent, And that they could not house-roome get, Into a church-porch then they went, To stand out of the ralne and wet: Then said the Dutchesse to her deare, " O that we had some fier heere ! " Then did her husband so provide That fire and coales he got with spe^de ; She sate downe by the fiers side. To dresse her daughter, that had neede; And while she drest it in her lapp, Her husband made the infant papp. Anone the sexton thither came, And finding them there by the fire. The drunken knave, all voyde of shame, To drive them out was his desire : And spurning forth this noble dame, Her husbands wrath it did inflame. And all in furie as he stood. He wroung the church-keies out of his hand, And strooke him so, that all of blood His head ran downe where he did stand * Wherefor the sexton presently For helpe and ayde aloude did cry. Then came the officers in hast, And tooke the Dutchesse and her child, And with her husband thus they past, Like lambes beset with tygers wild. And to the governour were they brought, Who understood them not in ought. 804 THE DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK'S Then Malster Bartue, brave and bold. In Latine made a gallant speech, Which all their miserie did unfold, And their high favour did beseech : With that, a doctor sitting by- Did know the !Putchesse presently. And thereupon arising straight, With minde abashed at their sighf, Unto them all that there did waight. He thus brake forth, in wordes aright : " Behold within your sight," quoth hee, "A princesse of most high degree." With that the governour and the rest Were all amazde the same to heare. And welcomm^d these new-come guestes With reverence great and princely cheare ; And afterward conveyd they were Unto their friend Prince Cassemere. A Sonne she had in Germanic, Peregrine Bartue cald by name, Surnamde The Good "Lord Willobie, Of courage great and worthie fame. Her daughter young, which with her went, Was afterward Countesse of Kent. For when Queene Mary was deceast, The Dutchesse home returnde againe, Who was of sorrow quite releast By Queene Elizabeth's happie raigne : For whose life and prosperitie We may prayse God continually. THE I.LFK AND DEATH OF, ETC. 305 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF FAMOUS THO. STUKELY, AN ENGLISH GALLANT IN THE TIME OF QUEENE ELIZABETH, WHO ENDED HIS DATES IN A BAT- TAILE OF KINGS IN BARBARIE. Thomas Stuckley, says Fuller, " was a younger brother, of an ancient, wealthy, and worshipful family, nigh Ilfracombe in this county [Devon], being one of good parts; but valued the less by others, because overprized by himself. Having prodigally mis-spent his patrimony, he entered on several projects (the issue general of all decayed estates) ; and first pitched on the peopling of Florida, then newly found out, in the West Indies. So confident his ambition, that he blushed not to tell Queen Ehzabeth, 'that he pre- ferred rather to be sovereign of a mole-hill, than the highest subject to the greatest king in Christen- dom;* adding, moreover, 'that he was assured he should be a prince before his death.' * I hope,' said Queen Elizabeth, '1 shall hear from you, when you are stated in your principality.' ' I will write unto you,' quoth Stuckley. ' In what language ? ' said the Queen. He returned, ' In the style of princes : To our dear sister.' " His fair project of Florida being blasted for lack of money to pursue it, he went over into Ireland, where he was frustrated of the preferment he ex- pected, and met such physic that turned his fever vnto freniy; for hereafter resolving treacherously to VOL. VII. 20 306 THE LIFE AND DEATH OP attempt what lie could not loyally achieve, he went over into Italy. " It is incredible how quickly he wrought himself through the notice into the favour, through the court into the chamber, yea closet, yea bosom of Pope Pius Quintus ; so that some wise men thought his Holiness did forfeit a parcel of his infallibility in giving credit to su(;h a glorloso, vaunting that with three thousand soldiers he would beat all the English out of Ireland. " The Pope finding it cheaper to fill Stuckley's swelling sails with airy titles than real gifts, created him Baron of Ross, Viscount Murrough, Earl of Wex- ford, Marquis of Leinster ; and then furnished this title-top-heavy general with eight hundred soldiers, paid by the King of Spain, for the Irish expedition. " In passage thereunto, Stuckley lands at Portugal, just when Sebastian, the king thereof, with two Moorish kings, were undertaking a voyage into Africa. Stuck- ley, scorning to attend, is persuaded to accompany them. Some thought he wholly quitted his Irish de- sign, partly because loath to be pent up in an island (the continent of Africa affording more elbow-room for his achievements) ; partly because so mutable his mind, he ever loved the last project (as mothers the youngest child) best. Others conceive he took this African in order to his Irish design ; such his con- fidence of conquest, that his breakfast on the Turks would the better enable him to dine on the English in Ireland. " Landing in Africa, Stuckley gave council which was safe, seasonable, and necessary ; namely, that for I wo or three days they should refresh their land sol- diers; whereof some were sick, and some were weak. THOMAS STUKELT. 307 by reason of their tempestuous passage. This would not be heard ; so furious was Don Sebastian to en- gage; as if he would pluck up the bays of victory out of the ground, before they were grown up ; and so, in the battle of Alcaser, their army was wholly defeated : where Stuckley lost his life. •A fatal fight, where in one day was slain, Three kings that were, and one that would be fain ! ' "This battle was fought anno 1578, where Stuck- ley, with his eight hundred men, behaved himself most valiantly, till overpowered with multitude." Worthies of England, by Nuttall, i. 414. Mr. Dyce, in his prefatory note to Peek's Battle of Alcazar, having cited the above extract with several poetical notices of Stukeley, mentions another play founded on this adventurer's exploits (^The Famous Historye of the Life and Death of Captaine Thomas Stukely), acted in 1596, and printed in 1605 (Peele's Works, ii. 85). The ballad is from The Crown- Garland of Golden Roses (Percy Society, vol. vl.) p. 33. There are some verses on Stukeley's projected voyage to Florida in Mr. Collier's Old Ballads, in the first volume of the Percy Society, p. 73. In the west of England Borne there was, I understand, A famous gallant in his dayes, By birth a wealthy clothier's sonne ; Deeds of wonder he hath done. To purchase him a long and lasting praise. 808 THE LIFE AND DEATH OP If I should tell his stor}"-, Pride was all his glory, And lusty Stukely he was call'd in court; He serv'd a bishop of the west, And did accompany the best, ]\Iaintaining still himselfe in gallant sort- Being thus esteemed, And every where well deemed. He gain'd the favour of a London dame, Daughter to an alderman, Curtis he was called then, To whom a sutor gallantly he came. When she his person spied. He could not be denied, So brave a gentleman he was to see ; She was quickly made his wife, In weale or woe to lead her life. Her father willingly did so agree. Thas, in state and pleasure. Full many daies they measure ; Till cruell death, with his regardles spight. Bore old Curtis to his grave, A thing which Stukely wisht to have, That he might revell all in gold so bright. He was no sooner tombed, But Stukely presumed To spend a hundred pound that day in waste The bravest gallants of the land THOMAS STUKELY. 309 Had Stukclies purse at their command ; Thus merrily the time away he pass'd. Taverns and ordinanes VVere^ his cheefest braveries, Gould en angells flew there up and downs ; Riots were ^ his best delight, With stately feastings day and night: In court and citty thus he won renowne Thus wasting land and living By this lawlesse giving, At last he sold the pavements of his yard, Which covered were with blocks of tin ; Old Curtis left the same to him. Which he consumed vainely, as you heard. Whereat his wife sore greeved, Desir'd to be releeved ; " Make much of me, dear husband," she did say *' I'll make much more of thee," quoth he, " Than any one shall, verily : I'll sell thy clothes, and so will go away.'* Cruelly thus hearted, Away from her he parted, And travelled into Italy with speed : There he flourisht many a day In his silkes and rich array, And did the pleasures of a lady feed. 1 2 where. 310 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF It was the ladies pleasure To give him gold and treasure, And to maintaine him in great pomp and fame . At last came newes assuredly Of a battaile fought in Barbary, And he would valiantly go see the pame. Many a noble gallant Sold both land and talent To follow Stukely in this famous fight ; Whereas three kings in person would Adventurously, with courage bould, Within the battaile shew themselves in sight.i Stukely and his followers all, Of the king of Portugall Had entertainement like to gentlemen : The king affected Stukely so, That he his secrets all did know, And bore his royall standard now and then. Upon this day of honour Each king did shew his banner ; Morocco, and the King of Barbery, Portugall, with all his train, Bravely glister'd in the plain. And gave the onset there most valiantly. The cannons they resounded, Thund'rlng drums rebounded, " Kill, kill ! " as then was all the soldiers ciy ; 1 fight. THOMAS STUKELT. 31 1 Mangle-i men lay on the ground, And with blood the earth was droimd, The sun was likewise darken'd in the skye. Heaven was sore displeased, And would not be appeased, But tokens of God's heavy wrath did show That he was angry at this war ; He sent a fearfull blazing star, "Whereby these kings might their misfortunea know. Bloody was this slaughter. Or rather wilfull murther. Where six score thousand fighting men were slain ; Three kings within this battaile died, With forty dukes and earles beside. The like will never more be foujiht af^ain. With woful armes enfoulding, Stukely stood beholding This bloody sacrifice of soules that day : He, sighing, said, " I, wofull wight. Against my conscience heere did fight, And brought my followers all unto decay.'* Being thus molested, And with greefes oppressed, Those brave Italians that did sell their lands, With Stukely thus to travel forth, And venture life for little worth, U])on him all did lay their murthering hands. 312 THOMAS STUKELY. Unto death thus wounded, His heart with sorrow swounded, And to them all he made this heavy mone : " Thus have I left my country deere, To be so vilely murthered heere, Even in this place whereas I am not known. " My life I have much wronged ; Of what to her belonged I vainely spent in idle course of life. What I have done is past, I see, And bringeth nought but greef to me, Therefore grant now thy pardon, gentle wife ; " Life, I see, consumeth, 4nd death, I feel, presumeth To change this life of mine into a new : Yet this me greatest comfort brings, I liVd and died in love of kings. And so brave Stukely bids the world adew ** Stukelys life thus ended, Was after death befrended, And like a soldier buried gallantly ; Where now there stands upon his grave A stately temple, builded brave, With golden turrets piercing in the skye. LORD DELAWARE. 313 LORD DELAWARE. No plausible foundation for this ballad has as yet been found in history. It has been suggested that Delaware is a corruption of De la Mare, a speaker of the House of Commons, and a great advocate of poj)- ular rights, in the reign of Edward the Third 1 But there is no accounting for the Dutch lord and the Welsh Duke of Devonshire on this or any other sup- position. The ballad is given fromLyle's Ancient Ballads and Songs, p. 135, as "noted down from the singing of a gentleman," and then ''remodelled and smoothed down " by the editor. The same copy is printed in Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs (Percy Society, vol. xvii.), p. 80, and in Bell's volume with the same title, p. 66. In the Parliament House, A great rout has been there, Betwixt our good king And the Lord Delaware : Says Lord Delaware To his Majesty full soon, " Will It please you, my Liege, To grant me a boon ? " ** What's your boon ? " says the King, •' Now let me understand.** 314 LORD DELAWARE. " It's, give me all the poor men We've starving in this land ; And without delay, I'll hie me To Lincolnshire, To sow hemp-seed and flax-seed, And hang them all there. " For with hempen cord it's better To stop each poor man's breath, Than with famine you should see Your subjects starve to death." Up starts a Dutch lord, Who to Delaware did say, " Thou deservest to be stabb'd ! *' Then he turned himself away : " Thou deservest to be stabb'd, And the dogs have thine ears, For insulting our king In this parliament of peers." Up sprang a Welsh lord, The brave Duke of Devonshire, " In young Delaware's defence, I'll fight This Dutch lord, m}-- Sire. " For he is in the right. And I'll make it so appear : Him I dare to single combat, For insulting Delaware." A stage was soon erected, And to combat they went, For to kill, or to be kill'd. It was either's full intent. LORD DELAWARE. Sit) But the very first flourish, When the heralds gave command, The sword of brave Devonshire Bent backward on his hand ; In suspense he paused awhile, Scann'd his foe before he strake. Then against the king's armour, His bent sword he brake. Then he sprang from the stage, To a soldier in the ring, Saying, " Lend your sword, that to an end This tragedy we bring : Though he's fighting me in armour, While I am fighting bare. Even more than this I'd venture For young Lord Delaware." Leaping back on the stage. Sword to buckler now resounds, Till he left the Dutch lord A bleeding in his wounds : This seeing, cries the King To his guards without delay, " Call Devonshire down, — Take the dead man away I ** « No," says brave Devonshire, " I've fought him as a man ; Since he's dead, I will keep The trophies I have won. For he fought me in your armour. While I fought him bare. B16 LORD DELAWARE. And the same you must win back, my Liege, If ever you them wear. " God bless the Church of England, May it prosper on each hand, And also every poor man Now starving in this land ; And while I pray success may crown Our king upon his throne, I'll wish that every poor man May long enjoy his own. THE BATTLE OF HARLAT7. 31' .THE BATTLE OF HARLATV. (See p. 180.) Traditionary Version, from Ajtonn's Scotiish Ballads, i. 73 " I am indebted to the kindness of Ladv John Scott for the following extremely spirited ballad, which was taken down some years ago in Aberdeenshire, where it is still very popular. It is sung to a beautiful air, with the following refrain to each stanza : — " TFT' a diie, drie, dredidronUie drie.^* As I cam in by Garioch land. And doun by Netherha', There was fifty thousand Hielandmen, A' marching to Harlaw. As I cam on, and further on. And doun and by Balquhaim, O there I met Sir James the Ross, Wi' him Sir John the Graeme. " O cam ye frae the Highlands, man ? O cam ye a' the way ? Saw ye Mac Donnell and his men. As they cam frae the Skye ? " " Yes, we cam frae the Highlands, man, And we cam a' the way, And we saw Mac Donnell and his men, As they cam in frae Skye." 318 THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. " O was ye near Mac Donnell's men? Did ye their number see ? Come, tell to me, John Hielandman, What might their numbers be ? " " Yes, we was near, and near eneugh, And we their number saw ; There was fifty thousand HIelandmen, A* marching to Harlaw." " Gin that be true," said James the Ross,, " We'll no come meikle speed ; We'll cry upon our merry men, And turn our horses' head." " O na, O na ! " says John the Graeme, " That thing maun never be ; The gallant Grasmes were never beat, A'Ve'll try what we can dee." As I cam on, and further on, And doun and by Harlaw, They fell fu' close on ilka side, Sic straiks ye never saw. They fell fu' close on ilka side, Sic straiks ye never saw ; For ilka sword gaed clash for clash, At the battle o' Harlaw. The Hielandmen wi' their lang swords, They laid on as fu' sair, And they drave baok our merry men. Three acres breadth and mair. THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. Brave Forbes to liis brother did say, " O brother, dinna ye see ? They beat us back on ilka side, And we'll be forced to flee." " O na ! O na ! my brother dear, O na ! that mauna be ! You'll tak your gude sword in your hand, And ye'U gang in wi' me.'* Then back to back the brothers brave Gaed in amang the thrang, And they swept doun the Hielandmen, Wi' swords baith sharp and lang. The first ae straik that Forbes strack, He gar'd Mac Donnell reel ; And the neist ae straik that Forbes strack, The brave Mac Donnell fell. And siccan a Pitlarichie I'm sure ye never saw, As was amang the Hielandmen, When they saw Mac Donnell fa*. And when they saw that he was dead, They turn'd and ran awa', And they buried him in Legate's Den, A large mile frae Harlaw. Some rade, some ran, and some did gang, They were o' sma' record. But Forbe's and his merry men They slew them a' the road. 319 320 THE BATTLE OF HARLATV. The battle it began ; On Saturday at gloamin', Ye'd scarce ken'd wlia had wan. And sic a weary buryin* i m sure ye never saw, As was the Sunday after that, On the muirs aneath Harlaw. Gin onybody speer at ye For tnem we took awa', Ye may tell them plain, and very pl^. They're sleeping at Harlaw. ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLAD S. VOLUME VIII. BOOK vni. KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CAN- TERBURY. Stories resembling tl>it contained in the following ballad are to be met with in the literature of most of the nations of Europe ; for example, in the Gesta Ro- manorum, (No. XIX. and [XXXV.] of Madden's Old English Versions,) in the amusing German tale Der Phaffe Amis, 98-180, in Eulenspiegel, (Marbach, p. 28,) and the English Owlglass (31st Adventure in the recent edition), in the Grimm's Kinder-und-Haus-mar- chen, No. 152, in Sacchetti's Novels, No. 4, the Pa- tranuelo of Juan TImoneda, Alcala, 1576 (Ritson, Anc. Songs, ii. 183), the Contes a rire, i. 182, {Gent. Mag. 65, i. 35,) etc., etc. King John and the Abbot, says Grundtvig (H. 650), Is universally known in Denmark in the form of a prose tale ; and a copy is printed in Gamle danske Minder (1854) No. Ill, The King and the Miller. Wynken de Worde, printed in 1511, a little collec- tion of riddles, translated from the French, like those propounded by King John to the Abbot, with the title Demaundes Joyous. By this link the present ballad is connected with a curious class of compositions, pe- culiar to the Middle Ages — the Disputations, or Wit- Combats, of which the dialogues of Salomon and Marcolf (existing in many languages) are the most familiar, and those of Salomon and Saturn (in An- glo-Saxon) the oldest preserved specimens. These dialogues, in their earlier shape grave contests for 4 KING JOHN AND THE Buperiorlty in knowledge and wisdom, underwent a change about the twelfth century, by which they became essentially comic. The serious element, rep- resented by Salomon, was retained after this, merely to afford material, or contrast, for the coarse humor of Marcolf, Avhose part it is, under the character of a rude and clownish person, " facie deformis et tur- pissimus," to turn the sententious observations of the royal sage into ludicrous parodies.* The hint, and possibly a model, for these disputa- tions may have been found in Jewish tradition. We learn from Josephus, (^Antiquities, Book VIII. ch. v.) that Hiram of Tyre and Solomon sent one another sophistical puzzles and enigmas to be solved, on con- dition of forfeiting large sums of money in case of failure, and that Solomon's riddles were all guessed by Abdsemon of Tyre, or by Abdimus, his son, for authorities differ. This account coincides with what we read in Chronicles, (Book II. ch. ii. 13, 14,) of the man sent by Hiram to Solomon, who, besides a uni- versal knowledge of the arts, was skilful " to find out every device that might be put to him " by cunning men — that is, apparently, " hard questions," such as the Queen of Sheba came to prove Solomon with, * Among those nations who originated and developed the character of I\Iarcolf (the German and the French) his fame has declined, but in Italy, where the legend was first intro- duced towards the end of the sixteenth century, his shrewd sayings, like the kindred jests of the Eulenspiegel in Ger- many, have an undiminished popularity and his story, both in the form of a chap-book and of a satirical epic, (the Ber~ ipldo,) is circulated tlu'oughout the length and breadtli of the country, whence it has also been transplanted intc Greece. ABBOT OF CANTERBUKY. 5 (1 Kings, X. i.) some account of which is given in the Talmud. — See, on the whole subject, Kemble's masterly essay on Salomon and Saturn, printed by the iElfric Society : also Griisse, Sagenkreise des Mit- telalters, p. 466-4 71; the Grimms' Kinder-und-Haus-' marchen, vol. iii. p. 236, ed. 1856 ; F. W. V. Schmidt, Taschenbuch deutscher Romanzen, p. 82. Examples of the riddle-song pure and simple will be found under Captain Wedderburn's Courtship. This ballad is taken from Percy's jReliquef<, ii. 329. The copy in Durfey's Pills to Purge Melanchohj, iv. 29, or A Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 49, is vastly inferior to the present. " The common popular ballad of King John and the Abbot" says Percy, " seems to have been abridged and modernized about the time of James L, from one much older, entitled King John and the Bishop of Canterbury. The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this last, but in too corrupt a state to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth reviving, which will be found inserted in the ensuing stanzas. " The archness of the following questions and an- swers hath been much admired by our old ballad- makers ; for besides the two copies above mentioned, there is extant another ballad on the same subject, (but of no great antiquity or merit,) entitled Kijig Olfrey and the Abbot. [Old Ball.n. bb.'] Lastly, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the bishops, some puritan worked up the same story into a very doleful ditty, to a solemn tune, con- cerning King Henry and a Bishop ; with this stinging moral : * Unlearned men hard matters out can find, When learned bishops princes eyes do blind.' 5 KING JOHN AND THE " The following Is chiefly printed from an ancient black-letter copy, to the tune of Derry-down*' An ancient story He tell you anon Of a notable prince, that was called King John ; And be ruled England with maine and with might, Foi be did great wrong, and maintein'd little ricrbt. 'O* And He tell you a story, a story so merrye, Concerning the Abbott of Canterburye ; How for his house-keeping and high renowne, They rode poste for him to fair London towne. An hundred men, the king did beare say, The abbot kept in his house every day ; And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt. In velvet coates waited the abbot about. " How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee. Thou keepest a farre better house than mee ; And for thy house-keeping and high renowne, I feare thou work'st treason against my crown." " My liege," quo' the abbot, " I would it were knowne 1 never spend nothing, but what is my owne ; And I trust your grace will doe me no deere, For spending of my owne true-gotten geere.*' ABBOT OF CANTERBURY. 7 " Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe, And now for the same thcu needest must dye ; For except thou canst answer me questions three. Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. " And first," quo' the king, " when I'm in this stead. With my crowne of golde so faire on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe. Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe. " Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride the whole world about ; And at the third question thou must not shrink, But tell me here truly what I do think." " these are hard questions for my shallow witt. Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet : But if you will give me but three weekes space, He do my endeavour to answer your grace." " Now three weeks space to thee will I give, And that is the longest time thou hast to live ; For if thou dost not answer my questions three, Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to race." Away rode the abbot all sad at that word, And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford ; 8 KING JOflX AND THE But never a doctor there was so wise, That could with his learning an answer devise. Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold, And he mett his shepheard a going to fold : " How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home ; What newes do you bring us from good King John ? " " Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give. That I have but three days more to live ; For if I do not answer him questions three, My head will be smitten from my bodie. " The first is to tell him there in that stead. With his crowne of golde so fair on his head, Among all his liege men so noble of birth. To within one penny of what he is worth. " The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt, How soone he may ride this whole world about ; And at the third question I must not shrinke. But tell him there truly what he does thinke." " Now cheare iip, sire abbot, did you never hear yet, That a fool he may learne a wise man witt ? Lend me horse, and serving men, and your ap- parel. And He ride to London to answere your quarrel. ABBOT OF CANTERBURY. 9 ^ N"ay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee, I am like your lordship, as ever may bee ; And if you will but lend me your gowne. There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne." " Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, "With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope, Fit to appear *fore our fader the pope." " Now, welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say, " Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day : For and if thou canst answer my questions three, Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee. " And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crowne of golde so fair on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worth." " For thirty pence our Saviour was sold Among the false Jewes, as I have bin told : And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke thou art one penny worser than ' hee." The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,^ "I did not think I had been worth so littel! 1 Meaning probably St. BotolDh. 10 KING JOHN, ETC. —Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride this whole world about.** " You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same Until the next morning he riseth againe ; And then your grace need not make any doubt But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about.** The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone, " I did not think it could be gone so soone ! —Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, But tell me here truly what I do thinke." "Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry ; You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbury ; But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see. That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee.'* The king he laughed, and swore by the masse, " He make thee lord abbot this day in his pl(^ce !** " Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede, For alacke I can neither write ne reade." ** Four nobles a w^eek, then I will give thee, For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee ; CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP. 11 And tell the old abbot -when thou comest home, Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John/* CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP. The two following ballads, in connection with the foregoing, will serve as specimens of the anciently highly-popular class of riddle songs. No ballad, says Motherwell, is even now more frequently met with on the stalls than Captain Wedderhurn*s Courtship. It was first published in The New British Songster, Fal- kirk, 1785, and afterwards in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, ii. 154, from which the present copy is taken. Chambers gives a few diff'erent readings from a copy furnished by Mr. Kinloch — Scottish Ballads, p." 331. A fragment of this piece is given in Minstrelsy of the English Border, p. 230, under the title of The Lair J of Roslin's Daughter. Riddles like those in the following ballads are found in Proud Lady Margaret, p. 83 of this volume. The Courteous Knight, in the Appendix, and The Bonny Hind Squire, in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 42, Percy Society, vol. xvii. — three varieties of one original: and in Gifts from over Sea, Appendix, p. 290. Also, in several of the ancient Norse poems ; in the ancient Danish ballad Svend Vonved, Grundtvig, No. 18; in Sven Svanehvit, SvensJca F. V., No. 45 ; Hammers- haimb's FceroisJce Kvceder, ii. No. 4 12 CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP. Norslr. Folkeviser, p. 369 ; Erk's Liederhort, No. 153; Uhland, No. 1, 2, 3 ; Erlach, lil. 37 ; Wunderhorn, ii. 407 ; Tschischka and Schottky, O ester reichische Volksl. p. 28 ; Haupt and Schmaler, Volksl. der Wenden, L No. 150, ii. No. 74 ; Talvj, Volksl. der Serhen, ii. 77; Goetze, Stimmen des russischen Volkes, p. 163 5 etc., etc. See especially Grimdtvig, i. 237, ii. 648, from whom we have borrowed some of these references. " The following copy was furnished from Mr. Herd's MS. by the editor of the Border Minstrelsy, and the present writer has supplied a few readings of small importance from his own recollection, as it was quite familiar to him in his early youth." Jamieson. The Lord of Roslin's daughter Walk'd thro' the wood her lane, And by came Captain Wedderburn, A servant to the king. He said unto his serving men, " Were't not against the law, I would tak her to my ain bed. And lay her neist the wa'." " I am walking here alone," she says, " Amang my father's trees ; And you must let me walk alane, Kind sir, now, if you please ; The supper bell it will be rung, And I'll be mist awa' ; Sae I winna lie in your bed, Either at stock or wa'." CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN's COURTSHIP. 13 He says, " My pretty lady, I pray lend me your hand, And you shall hae drums and trumpets Always at your command ; And fifty men to guard you with, That well their swords can draw ; Sae w^e'se baith lie in ae bed, And ye'se lie neist the wa'." '* Haud awa frae me," she said, " And pray lat gae my hand ; The supper bell it will be rung, I can nae Linger stand ; My father he will angry be, Gin I be miss'd awa ; Sae I'll nae lie in your bed, Either at stock or wa'." Then said the pretty lady, " I pray tell me your name : " " My name is Captain Wedderbum, A servant to the king. Tho' thy father and his men were here, Of them I'd have nae awe ; But tak you to my ain bed, And lay you neist the wa\'* He lighted aff his milk-white steed, And set this lady on, And held her by the milk-white hand, 14 CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN's COURTSHIP. Even as they rade along ; He held her by the middle jimp, For fear that she should fa', To tak her to his ain bed, And lay her neist the wa*. He took her to his lodging-house ; His landlady look'd ben ; Says, " ]\Iony a pretty lady In Edenbruch I've seen, But sic a lovely face as thine In it I never saw ; Gae mak her down a down-bed, And lay her neist the wa'." " baud awa' frae me," she says, " I pray ye lat me be ; I winna gang into your bed. Till ye dress me dishes three : Dishes three ye maun dress to me, Gin I should eat them a'. Afore that I lie in your bed, Either at stock or wa'. " Its ye maun get to my supper A cherry without a stane ; And ye maun get to my supper A chicken without a bane ; And ye maun get to my supper A bird without a ga' ; CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP. 15 Or I winna lie in your bed, Either at stock or wa'." " Its whan the cherry is in the ^rry, I'm sure it has nae stane ; And whan the chicken's in the egg, I'm sure it has nae bane ; And sin the flood o' Noah, The dovv she had nae ga'^; Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed. And ye'se lie neist the wa'." *' baud your tongue, young man," she says, *'Nor that gait me perplex ; For ye maun tell me questions yet, And that is questions six : Questions six ye tell to me, And that is three times twa. Afore I lie in your bed. Either at stock or wa'. " What's greener than the greenest grass ? What hicher than the trees ? What's war nor an ill woman's wish ? What's deeper than the seas ? What bird sings first ? and whareupon The dew dolh first down fa'? 1 The peasants in Scotland say that the dove that waa Bent out of the Ark by Noah flew till she burst her gaD, and that no dove since that tinae ever had a gall. J. 16 CAPTAIN WEDDEKBUIIN'S COURTSHIP, Ye sail tell afore I lay me down Between you and the wa'." " Vergris is greener than the grass ; Heaven's hicher than the trees ; The deil's warse nor a woman's wish ; Hell's deeper than the seas ; The cock craws first ; on cedar top The dew down first doth fa' ; And we'll lie baith in ae bed, And ye'se lie neist the waV " O baud your tongue, young man," she says, " And gi'e your fleechin' o'er, Unless you'll find me ferlies, And that is ferlies four ; Ferlies four ye maun find me, And that is twa and twa ; Or I'll never lie in ^^our bed. Either at stock or wa*. " And ye maun get to me a plumb That in December grew ; And get to me a silk mantel, That waft was ne'er ca'd thro' ; A sparrow's horn ; a priest unborn, This night to join us twa; Or I'll nae lie in your bed. Either at stock or waV CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP. 17 " My father he has winter fruit That in December grew ; Mj mither has an Indian gown, That waft was ne'er ca'd thro* ; A sparrow's horn is quickly found ; There's ane on every claw ; There's ane upon the neb o' him ; Perhaps there may be twa. " The priest he's standing at the door. Just ready to come in ; Nae man can say that he was born, To lie it were a sin ; A wild bore tore his mither's side, He out o' it did fa' ; Then we'll baith lie in ae bed, And thou's lie neist the wa'." Little kend Girzy Sinclair That morning whan she raise, That this wad be the hindermaist O' a' her maiden days ; But now there's nae within the realm, I think, a blyther twa ; And they baith lie in ae bed, And she lies neist the wa'. VOL. VIII. 2 18 LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNY BROOM. LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNY BROOM. From Durfey's Pills to Purge MelancJioly, iv. 129, with" the title A Riddle wittily expounded. The samo in Jamieson's Popular Ballads^ ii. 155, and in The Borderer's Table Book, vii. 83. A fragment of this ballad, called The Three Sisters, is printed in Gilbert's Ancient Christinas Carols, (2d ed.) p. Qb, and has a different burden. It begins There were thi-ee sisters fair and bright, Jennifer gentle and Bosemaree, And they three loved one valiant knight, As the dew files over the mulberry tree. There was a lady in the North -country, Lay the hent to the honny broom, And she had lovely daughters three, Fa, la la la, fa, la la la ra re. There was a knight of noble worth, Which also lived at the North. The knight, of courage stout and brave, A wife he did desire to have. He knocked at the lady's gate. One evening when it was late. The eldest^ sister let him in, And pinn'd the door with a silver pin. 1 youngest. LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNY BKOOAI. 19 The second sister, she made his bed, And laid soft pillows under his head. The youngest [sister] that same night, She went to bed to this young knight. And in the morning when it was day, These words unto him she did say. " Now you have had your will," quoth she, " I pray, Sir Knight, you marry me." This young brave knight to her reply'd. *' Thy suit, foir maid, shall not be deny'd, " If thou canst answer me questions three, This very day will I marry thee." " Kind sir, in love, then," quoth she, " Tell me what your three questions be." " what is longer than the way ? ^ Or what is deeper than the sea ? " Or what is louder than a horn ? Or what is sharper than a thorn ? " Or what is greener than the grass ? Or what is worse than a woman was ? " 1 i. e. the milky way. 20 LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNX BROOM. •' love is longer than the way, And hell is deeper than the sea. " And thunder's louder than the horn, And hunger's sharper than a thorn. " And poyson's greener than the grass,^ And the devil's worse than the woman was." When she these questions answered had. The knight became exceeding glad. And having truly try'd her wit, He much commended her for it. And after, as 'tis verified, ' He made of her his lovely bride. So now, fair maidens all, adieu ; This song I dedicate to you. I wish that you may constant prove Unto the man that you do love. 1 '' Vergris is greener than the grass." C. W.^s Court- ihip V. 97 KING EDWARD FOURTH, ETC. 21 KING EDAVARD FOURTH AND THE TAN- NER OF TAMWORTH. The next two ballads belong to a class of tales ex- tremely numerous in England, in which the sovereign is represented as conversing on terms of good fellow- ship with one of his humbler subjects who is unac- quainted with the royal person. In several of the best of these stories, the monarch is benighted in the forest, and obliged to demand hospitality of the first man he meets. He is at first viewed with suspicion and treated with rudeness, but soon wins favor by his afia- bility and good humor, and is invited to partake of a liberal supper, composed in part of his own venison.^ In due time the king reveals his true character to his astonished and mortified host, who looks to be pun- ished alike for his famiharity and for deer-stealing, but is pardoned for both, and even handsomely re- warded for his entertainment. The earliest of these stories seems to be that of King Alfred and the Neatherd, in which the herdsman's wife plays the offending part, and the peasant himself is made Bishop of Winchester. Others of very con- Biderable antiquity are the tales of Henry H. and the Cistercian Abbot in the Speculum Ecclesice of Giraldus Cambrensis, (an. 1220,) printed in Reliquice Afitiquce, I. 147 ; King Edward and the Shepherd, and Th King [Edward] and the Hermit, in Hartshorne's Metri- cal Tales, (p. 35, p. 293, the latter previously in The British Bibliographer, iv. 81 ;) Rati/ Coilzear, huio he harbreit King Charlis, in Laing's Select Remains ; John 22 KING EDWARD FOURTH AND THE the Reeve, an unprinted piece In the Percy MS., found- ed on an adventure between King Edward I. and one of his balHfis, which is highly commended by Dr. Percy " for its genuine humor, diverting incidents, and faith- ful picture of rustic manners ; " and The King and the Barker, the original of the present ballad. (See also the seventh and eighth fits of the Liltle Gest of Robin Hood.) More recent specimens are the two pieces here given, and others mentioned by Percy : King Henry and the Soldier, King Henry VHI. and the Cobbler, King James J. and the Tinker, King William and the Forester, ^^c. It Is obvious that a legend of immemorial antiquity has been transferred by succes- sive minstrels or story-tellers to the reigning monarch of their own times. An anecdote of the same char- acter is related by Mr. Wright of Prince George of Denmark, and a poor artisan of Bristol, [Essays, ii. 172.) The meeting of King Richard with Friar Tuck in Ivanhoe, was suggested by the tale of King Ed- ward and the Hermit. " The general tone of the story," says Scott, " belongs to all ranks and to all countries, which emulate each other In describing the rambles of a disguised sovereign, who, going in search of information or amusement into the lower ranks of Ufe, meets with adventures diverting to the reader or hearer, from the contrast betwixt the mon- arch's outward appearance and his real character. The Eastern tale-teller has for his theme the dis- guised expeditions of Haroun Alraschid, with his faithful attendants Mesrour and Giafar, through the midnight streets of Bagdad, and Scottish tradition dwells upon the similar exploits of James V., distin- TANNER OF TAMWORTH. 23 guished during such excursions by the travelling name of the Goodman of Ballengeigh, as the Com- mander of the Faithful, when he desired to be incog- nito^ was known by that of II Bondocani." The King and the Barker is printed in Ritson's Anc. Pop. Poetry, p. 61 ; the modern ballad of King Alfred and the Shepherd, in Old Ballads, i. 41 ; King James and the Tinkler, in Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, vii. 8, and in the Percy Soc. Publications, vol. xvii., Ancient Poems, Sfc. p. 109. " The following text is selected (with such other corrections as occurred) from two copies in black let- ter. The one in the Bodleian library, entitled A mer- rie, pleasant, and delectable historic betweene King Edivard the Fourth, and a Tanner of Tamworth, &;c., printed at London by John Danter, 159G. This copy, ancient as it now is, appears to have been modernized and altered at the time it was published ; and many vestiges of the more ancient readings were recovered from another copy (though more recently printed) in one sheet folio, without date, in the Pepys collection." Percy's Reliques, ii. 87. The old copies, according to Pitson, contain a great many stanzas which Percy " has not injudiciously suppressed." King Henry the Fourth and the Tan- ner of Tamivorth stands in the Registers of the Station- ers' Company, as licensed in 15G4-5. The Tanner of Tamworth is introduced into the First Part of Hey- wood's play of Edward the Fourth. IN summer time, when leaves grow greene, And blossoms bedecks the tree, King Edward wolde a hunting ryde, Some pastime for to see. 24 KING EDWARD FOURTH AND THE With hawke and liounde he made hnn bowne, With home, and eke with bowe ; To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye, With all his lordes a rowe. And he had ridden ore dale and downe By eight of clocke in the day, When he was ware of a bold tanner, Come ryding along the waye. A fayre russet coat the tanner had on, Fast buttoned under his chin. And under him a good cow-hide. And a mare of four shilling.^ " Nowe stande you still, my good lordes all, i Under the grene wood spraye ; And I will wend to yonder fellowe. To weet what he will saye. " God speede, God speede thee," sayd our king, " Thou art welcome, sir," sayd hee ; " The readyest waye to Drayton Basset I praye thee to shewe to mee." 1 In the reign of Edward IV. Dame Cecill, lady of Tor- boke, in her will dated March 7, A. D. 146fi, among many other bequests, has this : " Also I will that my sonne Thomas of Torboke have 13s. 4fZ. to buy him an horse." Vide Har- leian Catalogue, 2176, 27. — Now if 13s. 4d would purchase a steed fit for a person of quality, a tanner's horse might reju Bonably be valued at four or five shillings — Percy. TANNER OF TAMWORTH. 25 " To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe Fro the place where thou dost stand, The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto, Turne in upon thy right hand." " That is an unroadye waye," sayd our king, " Thou doest but jest I see ; No we shewe me out the nearest waye, And I pray thee wend with mee." " Awaye with a vengeance ! " quoth the tanner ; " I hold thee out of thy witt : All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare And I am "fasting yett." " Go with me downe to Drayton Basset, No daynties we will spare ; All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best, And I will paye thy fare." " Gramercye for nothing," the tanner replyde, " Thou payest no fare of mine : I trowe I've more nobles in my purse. Then thou hast pence in thine." " God give thee joy of them," sayd the king, " And send them well to priefe ; " The tanner wolde faine have beene away. For he weende he had beene a theife. 26 KING EDWARD FOURTH AND THE " What art thou," hee sayde, " ihou fine fellowe ? Of thee I am in great feare ; For the cloathes thou wearest upon thy backe Might beseeme a lord to weare." "I never stole them," quoth our king, " I tell you, sir, by the roode ; " " Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth, And standest in midds of thy goode."^ " "What tydinges heare you," sayd the kynge, " As you ryde farre and neare ? " " I heare no tydinges, sir, by the masse. But that cowe-hides are deare." " Cowe-hides ! cowe-hides ! what things are those? I marvell what they bee ? " " What, art thou a foole ?" the tanner reply'd ; " I carry one under mee." " What craftsman art thou ? " sayd the king ; " I praye thee tell me trowe : " " I am a barker, sir, by my trade ; Nowe tell me what art thou ? " " I am a poore courtier, sir," quoth he, " That am forth of service worne ; 1 i. e. hast no other wealth, but what thou carriest about thee. — Percy. TANNER OF TAMWORTH. 27 And faine I wolde thy prentise bee, Thy cunninge for to learne." " Marrye heaven forfend," the tanner replyde, " That thou my prentise were ; Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne By fortye shilling a yere." " Yet one thinge wolde I," sayd our king, " If thou wilt not seeme strange ; Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare, Yet with thee I faine wold change." "Why if with me thou faine wilt change, As change full well maye wee. By the faith of ray bodye, thou proude fellowe, I will have some boot of thee." " That were against reason," sayd the king, " I sweare, so mote I thee ; My horse is better than thy mare. And that thou well mayst see." " Yea, sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild, And softly she will fare ; Thy horse is unruly e and wild, i-wiss. Aye skipping here and theare." " What boote wilt thou have ? " our king reply'd ; " Now tell me in this stound ; " 28 KING EDWARD FOURTH AND THE " Noe pence, nor half-pence, by my faye, But a noble in gold so round." " Here's twentye groates of white moneye, Sith thou wilt have it of mee;" " I would have sworne now," quoth the tanner, " Thou hadst not had one pennie. " But since we two have made a change, A change we must abide ; Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare, Thou gettest not my cowe-hide." " I will not have it," sayd the kynge, " I sweare, so mought I thee ; Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare, If thou woldst give it to mee." The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide, That of the cow was hilt, And threwe it upon the king's sadelle, That was soe fayrelye gilte. " Now help me up, thou fine fellowe, 'Tis time that I were gone : "When I come home to Gyllian my wife, Sheel say I am a gentilmon." The king he tooke him up by the legge, The tanner a f** lett fall ; TANNER OF TAMWORTH. 29 '* Nowe manye, good fellowe," sajd the kyng , '• Thy coLirtesye is but smalL" "When the tanner he was in the kinges sadelle, And his foote in his stirrup was, He marvelled greatlje in his minde, Whether it were golde or brass. But when his steede saw the cows taile wagge, And eke the blacke cowe-horne, fle stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne. As the devill had him borne. The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat, And held by the pummil fast ; At length the tanner came tumbling downe, His necke he had well-nye brast. " Take thy horse again with a vengeance," he sayd, " With mee he shall not byde ; " " My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe, But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide. '* Yet if againe thou faine woldst change, As change full well may wee, 6y the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tanner, I will have some boote of thee.*' " What boote wilt thou have ? " the tanner replyd, " Nowe tell me in this stounde ; 30 Kl^^G EDWARD FOURTH AND THE " Noe pence nor half-pence, sir, by ray faye, But I will have twentye pound." " Here's twentye groates out of my purse, And twentye I have of thine ; And I have one more, which we will spend Together at the wine." The king set a bugle home to his mouthe, And blewe both loude and shrille ; And soone came lords, and soone came knights, Fast ryding over the hille. ^* Nowe, out alas," the tanner he cryde, " That ever I sawe this daye ! Thou art a strong tliiefe ; yon come thy fellowes Will beare my cowe-hide away." " They are no thieves," the king replyde, " I sweare, soe mote I thee ; But they are lords of the north country, Here come to hunt with mee." And soone before our king they came, And knelt downe on the grounde ; Then might the tanner have beene awaye, He had lever than twentye pounde. ** A coller, a coller, here," sayd the king, "A coller," he loud gan crye ; TANNER OF TAMWORTH. 31 Then Avoulde he lever then twentje pound, He had not beene so nighe. " A coller ! a coller ! " the tanner he sayd, " I trowe it will breed sorrowe ; After a coller commeth a halter ; I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe." " Be not afraid, tanner," said our king ; " I tell thee, so mought I thee, Lo here I make thee the best esquire That is in the North countrie.^ " For Plumpton-parke I will give thee, With tenements faire beside, — *Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,— To maintaine thy good cow-hide." 1 This stanza is restored from a quotation of this ballad in Selden's Titles of Honour, who produces it as a good au- thority to prove, that one mode of creating Esquires at that time, was by the imposition of a collar. His words are, " Nor is that old pamphlet of the Tanner of Tamworth and King Edward the Fourth so contemptible, but that wee may thence note also an observable passage, wherein the use of making Esquires, by giving collars, is expressed." (Sub. Tit. Esquire; & vide in Spelmanni Glossar. Armi(/er.) This form of creating Esquires actually exists at this day among the Sergeants at Arms, who are invested with a collar (which they wear on Collar Days) by the King himself. This information I owe to Samuel Pegge, Esq., to whom the public is indebted for that curious work, the Curialia, 4to. — Percy. 32 THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. " Gramercye, my liege," the tanner replyde ; '* For the favour thou hast me showne, If ever thou comest to merry Tamworth, Neates leather shall clout thy shoen." THE KING AND jVOLLER OF MANSFIELD. " The following is printed, with corrections from the Editor's folio MS. collated with an old black-letter copy in the Pepys collection, entitled A pleasant hal lad of King Henry II. and the Miller of Mansfield, ^c." — Percy's Reliques, iii. 22. Other copies, slightly different, in A Collection of Old Ballads^ i. 63, and Ritson's Ancient Songs, ii. 173. PART THE FIRST. IIknry, our royall king, would ride a hunting To the greene forest so pleasant and faire ; To see the harts skipping, and dainty does trip- ping, IJnto merry Sherwood his nobles repaire: Hawke and hound were unbound, all things pre- par'd For the game, in the same, with good regard. All a long summers day rode the king pleasant- lye, With all his princes and nobles eche one ; THE KING AND MILLKR OF MANSFIELD. 33 Chasing the hart and hind, and the bucke gallant- lye, Till the dark evening forc'd all to turne home. Then at last, riding fast, he had lost quite All his lords in the wood, late in the niglit. [downe, Wandering thus wearilye, all alone, up and With a rude miller he mett at the last ; Asking the ready way unto faire Nottingham, " Sir," quoth the miller, " I meane not to jest, Yet I thinke, what I thinke, sooth for to say; You doe not lightlye ride out of your way.^' " Why, what dost thou think of me," quoth our king merrily, " Passing thy judgment upon me so briefe ? " '* Good faith," sayd the miller, '' I mean not to flatter thee, I guess thee to bee but some gentleman thiefe ; Stand thee backe, in the darke ; light not adowne, Lest that I presentlye crack thy knaves crov\me." " Thou dost abuse me much," quoth the king, " saying thus ; I am a gentleman ; lodging I lacke." " Thou hast not," quoth th' miller, " one groat in thy purse ; All thy inheritance hanges on thy backe." *' I have gold to discharge all that I call ; If it be forty pence, I will pay aU." VOL. vin. 3 84 THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. " If thou beest a true man," then quoth the miller, '* I sweare by my toll-dish, I'll lodge thee all night." " Here's my hand," quoth the king ; " that was I ever." " Nay, soft," quoth the miller, " thou may'st be a sprite. Better I'll know thee, ere hands we will shake ; With none but honest men hands will I take." Thus they went all along unto the millers house, Where they were seething of puddings and souse ; The miller first enter'd in, after him went the king ; Never came hee in soe smoakye a house. " Now," quoth hee, " let me see here what you are : " Quoth the king, " Looke yoar fill, and doe not spare." " I like well thy countenance, thou hast an honest face : With my son Richard tliis night thou shall lye." Quoth his wife, " By my troth, it is a handsome youth. Yet it's best, husband, to deal warilye. Art thou no run-away, prythee, youth, tell ? Shew me thy passport, and all shal be well." THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. 35 Then our king presentlye, making lowe cour- tesye, With his hatt in his hand, thus he did say ; " I have no passport, nor never was servitor, But a poor courtyer, rode out of my way : And for your kindness here offered to mee, I will requite you in everye degree." Then to the miller his wife whisper'd secretlye, Saying, " It seemeth, this youth's of good kin, Both by his apparel, and eke by his manners ; To turne him out, certainlye were a great sin." "Yea," quoth hee, "you may see he hath some grace, When he doth speak e to his betters in place." "Well," quo' the millers wife, "young man, ye're welcome here ; And, though I say it, well lodged shall be : Fresh straw will I have laid on thy bed so brave. And good brown hempen sheets likewise," quoth shee. " Aye," quoth the good man ; " and when that isj done, Thou shalt lye with no worse than our own Sonne." *• Nay, first," quoth Richard, " good-fellowe, tell me true, Hast thou noe creepers within thy gay hose ? 36 THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. Or art thou not troubled with the scabbado ? " " I pray," quoth the king, " what creatures are those ? " " Art thou not lowsy nor scabby ? " quoth he : " If thou beest, surely thou lyest not with mee.'' This caus'd the king, suddenlye, to laugh most heartilye, Till the teares trickled fast downe from his eyes. Then to their supper were they set orderly e, With hot bag-puddings, and good apple-pyes ; Nappy ale, good and stale, in a browne bowle, Which did about the board merrilye trqwle. " Here," quoth the miller, " good fellowe, I drinke to thee, And to all courtnalls that coui-teous be." " I pledge thee," quoth our king, " and thanke thee heartilye For my good welcome in everye degree : And here, in like manner, I drinke to thy sonne.' " Do then," quoth Richard, " and quicke let it come." "Wife," quoth the miller, "fetch me forth light- foote, And of his sweetnesse a little we'll taste." A fair ven'son pasty e brought she out presently e, " Eate," quoth the miller, " but, sir, makcj no waste. THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. 37 " Here's dainty lightfoote ! " " In faith," sayd the king, " I never before eat so daintye a thing." " I-wis," quoth Richard, " no daintye at all it is. For we doe eate of it everye day." " In what place," sayd our king, " may be bought like to this ? " " We never pay pennye for itt, by my fay : From merry Sherwood we fetch it home here ; Now and then we make bold with our kings deer." " Then I thinke," sayd our king, " that it is veni- son." " Eche foole," quoth Richard, " full well may know that: Never are wee without two or three in the roof. Very well fleshed, and excellent fat : But, pry thee, say nothing wherever thou goe ; We would not, for two pence, the king should it knowe." " Doubt not," then sayd the king, " my promist secresye ; The king shall never know more on't for mee : " A cupp of lambs-wool they dranke unto him then, And to their bedds they past presentlie. 38 THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD. The nobles, next morning, went all up and down, For to seeke out the king in everye towne. At last, at the millers *cott,' soone they espy'd him out. As he was mounting upon his faire steede ; To whom they came presently, falling down on their knee ; Which made the millers heart wofully bleede ; Shaking and quaking, before him he stood. Thinking he should have been hang'd, by the rood. The king perceiving him fearfully trembling, Drew forth his sword, but nothing he sed : The miller downe did fall, crying before them all, Doubtino; the kin