Transcriber's Notes

Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been retained as in the original. Minor corrections to format and punctuation together with regularisation of poetry line numbering have been made without comment. Any other changes to the text have been listed at the [end of the book].

Notes with reference to ballad line numbers are presented at the end of each ballad and the presence of a note is indicated by links in the text.

ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLADS.

EDITED BY
FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.

VOLUME VII.

BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
M.DCCC.LX.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by Little, Brown and Company, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME SEVENTH.

BOOK VII.

CONTINUED.

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 information having been received that the Northumbrians were gathering in considerable force for a counter-invasion, it was thought prudent not to attempt 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 Bishopric of Durham, and laid waste the country with fire and sword. Returning in triumph from this inroad, Douglas passed insultingly before the gates of Newcastle, where Sir Harry Percy lay in garrison. This fiery warrior, 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 swore he would plant as a trophy on the highest tower of his castle, unless it should be that very night retaken by the owner. Hotspur was deterred from

accepting this challenge immediately, by the apprehension 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 slowness, he hastily got together a company of eight or ten thousand men, and set forth in pursuit.

The English forces, under the command of Hotspur 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 desperate action ensued. The victory seemed to be inclining 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 overpowered 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 himself by Lord Montgomery. Many other Englishmen of rank had the same fate. After a long fight, maintained with extraordinary bravery on both sides, the English retired and left the Scots masters of the field. (See Sir W. Scott's History of Scotland, i. 225.)

The ballad which follows, printed from the fourth or revised edition of Percy's Reliques (vol. i. p. 21), was derived from a manuscript in the Cotton library

(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 collection, 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 betwixt the Earls of Fife and Douglas, and their several journeys, almost as in the authentic history," and proceeds 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 hay, the season has been over for a month in most parts of England. From these circumstances, and the occurrence 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 defective, well deserves . Sir Walter Scott inserted in the Minstrelsy another edition 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 ryde,
In Ynglond to take a praye.

The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe,5
He bowynd hym [over Sulway:]
The grete wolde ever together ryde;
That race they may rue for aye.

[Over Ottercap hyll they came in,]
And so dowyn by Rodelyffe cragge,10
Upon Grene Leyton they lyghted dowyn,
[Styrande many a stagge;]

And boldely brent Northomberlonde,
And haryed many a towyn;
They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange,15
To battell that were not bowyn.

Than spake a berne upon the bent,
Of comforte that was not colde,
And sayd, "We have brent Northomberlond,
We have all welth in holde.20

"Now we have haryed all Bamboroweshyre,
All the welth in the worlde have wee;
I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,
So styll and stalwurthlye."

Uppon the morowe, when it was daye,25
The standards schone fulle 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;30
He 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,35
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."40

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,45
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?"50
"At Otterborne in the hygh way,
Ther maist thow well logeed be.

"The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes,
To make the game and glee;
The fawkon and the fesaunt both,55
Amonge the holtes on hye.

"Ther maist thow have thy welth at wyll,
"Well looged ther maist be;
Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll,"
Sayd Syr Harry Percye.60

"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."

A pype of wyne he gave them over the walles,65
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;70
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 goo75
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.80

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,85
"For thow maiste waken wyth wynne;
Yender have I spyed the prowde Percy,
And seven standardes wyth hym."

"Nay by my trowth," the Douglas sayed,
"It ys but a fayned taylle;90
He durste not loke on my bred banner,
For all Ynglonde so haylle.

"Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,
That stonds so fayre on Tyne?
For all the men the Percy hade,95
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.100

"[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], in armure bryght,105
On the other hand he schall be;

Lord Jhonstone and Lorde Maxwell,
They to schall be wyth me.

"Swynton, fayre fylde upon your pryde!
To batell make yow bowen,110
Syr Davy Scotte, Syr Walter Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstone!"

[6]. i. e. over Solway frith. This evidently refers to the other division of the Scottish army, which came in by way of Carlisle.—Percy.

[9-11]. sc. the Earl of Douglas and his party.—The several stations here mentioned are well-known places in Northumberland. Ottercap-hill is in the parish of Kirk-Whelpington, in Tynedale-ward. Rodeliffe—(or, as it is more usually pronounced, 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 MSS. read here, corruptly, Hoppertop and Lynton.—P.

[12]. Many a styrande stage, in both MSS. Motherwell would retain this reading, because stagge signifies in Scotland a young stallion, and by supplying "off" the line would make sense. It was one of the Border laws, he remarks, that 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.

[77]. the best bent, MS.

[101]. The Earl of Menteith. At the time of the battle the earldom of Menteith was possessed by Robert Earl of Fife, who was in command of the main body of the army, and consequently not with Douglas.

[103]. The reference is to Sir John Gordon. The use of this designation shows, says Percy, that the ballad was not composed 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.

[105]. The Earl of Buchan, fourth son of King Robert II.

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,5
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,10
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;

[He lyghted dowyn upon his fote,]15
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.20

Thus Syr Hary Percye toke the fylde,
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,25
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;30
'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 byde35
That he may see thys fyght.

"The Baron of Grastoke ys com owt of the west,
With him a noble companye;

All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,
And the battell fayne wold they see.40

"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,45
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,50
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 reprovyd55
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.60

"Every man thynke on hys trewe love,
And marke hym to the Trenite;

For to God I make myne avowe
Thys day wyll I not fle."

The blodye harte in the Dowglas armes,65
Hys standerde stode on hye;
That every man myght full well knowe;
By syde stode starres thre.

The whyte lyon on the Ynglysh parte,
Forsoth, as I yow sayne,70
The lucetts and the cressawnts both;
The Skotts faught them agayne.

Uppon Sent Andrewe lowde cane they crye,
And thrysse they schowte on hyght,
And syne marked them one owr Ynglysshe men,75
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.80

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,85
That ether of other was fayne;

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;90
"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;95
"[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."100

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,105
I tell yow in thys stounde;
He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length,
That he felle to the growynde.

The sworde was scharpe, and sore can byte,
I tell yow in sertayne;110
To the harte he cowde hym smyte,
Thus was the Dowglas slayne.

The stonderds stode styll on eke syde,
With many a grevous grone;
Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght,115
And many a dowghty man was slayne.

Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,
But styffly in stowre can stond,
Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,
Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.120

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,125
Grysely groned uppon the growynd;
Syr Davy Scotte, Syr Walter Steward,
[Syr John of Agurstonne.]

Syr Charlles Morrey in that place,

That never a fote wold flye;130
Sir Hughe Maxwelle, a lorde he was,
With the Dowglas dyd he dye.

Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,
For soth as I yow saye,
Of fowre and forty thowsande Scotts135
Went but eyghtene awaye.

Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,
For soth and sertenlye,
A gentell knyght, Sir John Fitz-hughe,
Yt was the more petye.140

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,145
For soth as I yow saye,
Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh men
Fyve hondert cam awaye.

The other were slayne in the fylde;
Cryste kepe their sowles from wo!150
Seying ther was so few fryndes
Agaynst so many a foo.

Then one the morne they mayd them beeres
Of byrch, and haysell graye;
Many a wydowe with wepyng teyres155
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.160

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 praye165
To Jesu most of myght,
To bryng hys sowle to the blysse of heven,
For he was a gentyll knyght.

[96]. Being all in armour he could not know him.—P.

[128]. Both the MSS. read here Sir James, but see above, [Pt. I. ver. 112].—P.

[143]. Covelle, MS.

[162]. Supposed to be son of Lord John Montgomery, who took Hotspur prisoner. In The Hunting of the Cheviot this Sir Hugh is said to have been slain with an arrow.

THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, i. 354. In the Complaynt of Scotland (1548), "The Persee and the Mongumrye 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 Græmes,5
With them the Lindesays, [light and gay;]
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;10
And three good towers on Reidswire fells,
He left them all on fire.

And he march'd up to Newcastle,
And rode it round about;
"O wha's the lord of this castle,15
Or wha's the lady o't?"

But up spake proud Lord Percy then,
And O but he spake hie!
"I am the lord of this castle,
My wife's the lady gay."20

"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,25
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',30
When down before the Scottish spear
She saw proud Percy fa'.

"Had we twa been upon the green,
And never an eye to see,

[I wad hae had you, flesh and fell;]35
But your sword sall gae wi' me."

"But gae ye up to Otterbourne,
And wait there dayis three;
And if I come not ere three dayis end,
A fause knight ca' ye me."40

"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,45
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;50
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,55
"My troth I plight to thee."

They lighted high on Otterbourne,
Upon the bent sae brown;
They lighted high on Otterbourne,
And threw their pallions down.60

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,65
Before the peep of dawn—
"O 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:70
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,75
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.80

When Percy wi' the Douglas met,
I wat he was fu' fain;
They swakked their swords, till sair they swat,
And the blood ran down like rain.

But Percy with his good broad sword,85
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,90
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,95
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.100

"O bury me by the braken bush,
Beneath the blooming brier,
Let never living mortal ken
That ere a kindly Scot lies here."

He lifted up that noble lord,105
Wi' the saut tear in his ee;
He hid him in the braken bush,
That his merrie-men might not see.

The moon was clear, the day drew near,
The spears in flinders flew,110
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,115
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.120

"Now yield thee, yield thee, 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,125
Nor yet shalt thou yield to me;
But yield thee to the braken bush,
That grows upon yon lilye lee."

"I will not yield to a braken bush,
Nor yet will I yield to a brier;130
But I would yield to Earl Douglas,
Or Sir Hugh the Montgomery, if he were here."

As soon as he knew it was Montgomery,
He struck his sword's point in the gronde;
The Montgomery was a courteous knight,135
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.]140

[6]. "Light" is the appropriated designation of the Lindsays, as "gay" is that of the Gordons.

[7]. The Jardines were a clan of hardy West-Border men. 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 army.—S.

[35]. Douglas insinuates that Percy was rescued by his soldiers.—S.

[140]. Douglas was really buried in Melrose Abbey, where his tomb is still to be seen.

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 of partizans. Not so with the following ballad, which is founded on the same event. "That which is commonly sung of the Hunting of Cheviot," says Hume of Godscroft truly, "seemeth indeed poetical, and a

mere fiction, perhaps to stir up virtue; yet a fiction whereof there is no mention either in the Scottish or English chronicle." When this ballad arose we do not know, but we may suppose that a considerable time 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 in fact. It was one of the laws of the Marches, frequently renewed between the nations, that neither party should hunt in the other's borders, without leave from the proprietors 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 invasions 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 Cheviat. Percy Earl of Northumberland had vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border, without condescending to ask leave from Earl Douglas, 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 evidently borrowed from the Battle of Otter

bourn, a very different event, but which aftertimes would easily confound with it."[1]

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. lxxxii. 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 two.

The manuscript copy is subscribed at the end "Expliceth quoth Rychard Sheale." Richard Sheale (it has been shown by a writer in the British Bibliographer, vol. iv. p. 97-105) was a minstrel by profession, and several other pieces in the same MS. 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 glaring objection of the antiquity of the language has

been met, first, by the supposition that the author belonged to the north of England, and afterwards, when it appeared that Sheale lived at Tamworth, 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 inspection 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 ballad-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.[2]

The Hunting 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

saying of the "old song of Percy and Douglas"—that it moved his heart more than a trumpet—exclusively of Chevy Chase. There is no question which ballad would stand higher in the estimation of the gentle knight, but the terms by which the war-song he admired is described are of course equally applicable to The Battle of Otterbourne. 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"!

[1] The Editor of the Reliques afterwards met with the following 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 [IId Earl, son of Hotspur], and Earl William Douglas, of Angus, with a small army of about four thousand men each, in which the latter had the advantage. As this seems to have been a private conflict 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."

[2] We regret that even Dr. Rimbault has hastily sanctioned this ascription of Chevy-Chase to the "sely" minstrel of Tamworth.

THE FIRST FIT.

The Persè owt off Northombarlande,
And a vowe to God mayd he,
That he wold hunte in the mountayns
Off Chyviat within days thre,
In the [mauger] of doughtè Dogles,5
And all that ever with him be.

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat
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."10

[Then the] Persè owt of Banborowe cam,
With 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,15
In Cheviat the hillys so he;
The chyld may rue that ys un-born,
It was the mor pittè.

The dryvars throrowe the woodès went,
For to reas the dear;20
Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
With ther browd aras cleare.

Then the wyld thorowe the woodès went,
On every sydè shear;
Grea-hondes thorowe the grevis glent,25
For to kyll thear dear.

The begane in Chyviat the hyls above,
Yerly on a Monnyn day;

Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.30

The [blewe a mort] uppone the bent,
The semblyd on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the Persè went,
To se the bryttlynge off the deare.

He sayd, "It was the Duglas promys35
This day to met me hear;
But I wyste he wold faylle, verament:"
A great oth the Persè swear.

At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde
Lokyde at his hand full ny;40
He was war [a' the] doughetie Doglas comynge,
With him a myghttè meany;

Both with spear, [byll], and brande;
Yt was a myghti sight to se;
Hardyar men, both off hart nar hande,45
Wear not in Christiantè.

The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good,
Withowtè any feale;
The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,

Yth' bowndes of Tividale.50

"Leave of the brytlyng of the dear," he sayde,
"And to your [bowys] lock ye tayk good heed;
For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
Had ye never so mickle ned."

The dougheti Dogglas on a stede55
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:60
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 Persè:
"We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar," he says,65
"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:"70
"Be my troth," sayd the doughtè Dogglas [agayn],
"Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day."

Then sayd the doughtè Doglas
Unto the lord Persè:
"To kyll all thes giltles men,75
Alas, it wear great pittè!

"But, Persè, thowe art a lord of lande,
I am a yerle callyd within my contrè;
Let all our men uppone a parti stande,
And do the battell off the and of me."80

"Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne," [sayd the] lord Persè,
"Whosoever ther-to says nay;
Be my troth, doughttè Doglas," he says,
"Thow shalt never se that day.

"Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,85
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;90
"It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde," he says,
"To kyng Herry the fourth for sham.

"I wat youe byn great lordes twaw,
I am a poor squyar of lande;
I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,95
And stande myselffe, and loocke on,
But whyll I may my weppone welde,
I wyll not [fayl] both hart and hande."

[That day, that day, that dredfull day!]
The first fit here I fynde;100
And youe wyll here any mor a' the hountyng a' the Chyviat,
Yet ys ther mor behynd.

[5]. magger.

[11]. The the.

[13]. archardes.

[14]. By these shyars thre is probably meant three districts in Northumberland, which still go by the name of shires, and are all in the neighbourhood of Cheviot. These are Islandshire, being the district so named from Holy-Island: Norehamshire, so called from the town and castle of Noreham (or Norham): and Bamboroughshire, the ward or hundred belonging to Bamborough-castle and town.—Percy.

[31]. blwe a mot.

[41]. ath the.

[43]. brylly.

[52]. boys.

[71]. agay.

[81]. sayd the the.

[99]. "That day, that day, that gentil day," is cited in The Complaynt of Scotland, (ii. 101,) not, we imagine, as the title of a ballad (any more than "The Persee and the Mongumrye met," ante, p. 19,) but as a line by which the song containing it might be recalled.

THE SECOND FIT.

[The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,]
Ther hartes were good yenoughe;
The first off arros that the shote off,
Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.

Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,5
A captayne good yenoughe,
And that was sene verament,
For he wrought hom both woo and wouche.

The Dogglas pertyd his ost or thre,
Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde,10
With suar spears off myghttè tre,
The cum in on every syde:

Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery
Gave many a wounde full wyde;
Many a doughete the garde to dy,15
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 swordes on basnites lyght.20

Throrowe ryche male and myneyeple,
Many sterne the stroke [downe] streght;
Many a freyke that was full fre,
Ther undar foot dyd lyght.

At last the Duglas and the Persè met,25
[Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;]

The swapte togethar tyll the both swat,
With swordes that wear of fyn myllàn.

Thes worthè freckys for to fyght,
Ther-to the wear full fayne,30
Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,
As ever dyd heal or [rayne].

"[Holde] the, Persè," sayde the Doglas,
"And i' feth I shall the brynge
Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis35
Of Jamy our [Scottish] kynge.

"Thoue shalte have thy ransom fre,
I hight the hear this thinge,
For the manfullyste man yet art thowe,
That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng."40

"Nay," sayd the lord Persè,
"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,45
Forthe off a myghttè wane;
Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas
In at the brest bane.

Throroue lyvar and longs, bathe
The sharp arrowe ys gane,50
That never after in all his lyffe-days,
He spayke mo wordes but ane:
That was, "Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may,
For my lyff-days ben gan."

The Persè leanyde on his brande,55
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,60
For a better man, of hart nare of hande,
Was not in all the north contrè."

Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,
Was callyd Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry;
He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght,65
He spendyd a spear, a trusti tre:—

He rod uppon a corsiare
Throughe a hondrith archery:
He never stynttyde, nar never blane,
Tyll he cam to the good lord Persè.70

He set uppone the lord Persè
A dynte that was full soare;

With a suar spear of a myghttè tre
Clean thorow the body he the Persè ber,

A' the tothar syde that a man myght se75
A large cloth yard and mare:
Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiantè,
Then that day slain wear ther.

An archar off Northomberlonde
Say slean was the lord Persè;80
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,85
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.90

Ther was never a freak wone foot wolde fle,
But still in stour dyd stand,
Heawyng on yche othar, whyll the myght dre,
With many a balfull brande.

This battell begane in Chyviat95
[An owar] befor the none,
And when even-song bell was rang,
The battell was nat half done.

[The tooke on ethar hand]
Be the lyght off the mone;100
Many hade no strength 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,105
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 pittè.110

Thear was slayne withe the lord Persè,
Sir John of Agerstone,
Sir Rogar, the hinde Hartly,
Sir Wyllyam, the bolde Hearone.

Sir Jorg, the worthè [Lovele],115
A knyght of great renowen,
Sir Raff, the ryche Rugbè,
With dyntes wear beaten dowene.

For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,
That ever he slayne shulde be;120
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 Davy [Lwdale], that worthè was,125
His sistars son was he:

His Charls a Murrè in that place,
That never a foot wolde fle;
Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
With the Doglas dyd he dey.130

So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
Off birch and hasell so [gray];
Many wedous with wepyng tears
Cam to fach ther makys away.

Tivydale may carpe off care,135
Northombarlond may mayk 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,140
That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches,
He lay slean Chyviot with-in.

His handdes dyd he weal and wryng,
He sayd, "Alas, and woe ys me!"
Such an othar captayn Skotland within,145
He sayd, ye-feth shuld never be.

Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone,
Till the fourth Harry our kyng,
That lord Persè, [leyff]-tenante of the Merchis,
He lay slayne Chyviat within.150

"God have merci on his soll," 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 Persè, and I brook my lyffe,155
Thy deth well quyte shall be."

As our noble kyng mayd his a-vowe,
Lyke a noble prince of renowen,
For the deth of the lord Persè
He dyde the battell of Hombyll-down:160

Wher syx and thritté Skottishe knyghtes
On a day wear beaten down:
[Glendale] glytteryde on ther armor bryght,
Over castill, towar, and town.

This was the Hontynge off the Cheviat;165
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 [Monnyn] day:170
Ther was the dougghtè Doglas slean,
The Persè never went away.

Ther was never a tym on the March-partes
Sen the Doglas and the Persè met,
But yt was marvele, and the rede blude ronne not,175
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!180

[1-4]. 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.—Percy.

[17]. boys.

[18]. briggt.

[22]. done.

[26]. to, i. e. tow.

[32]. ran.

[33]. helde.

[36]. Scottih.

[45]. a narrowe. So again in v. [83], and a nowar in v. [96]. This transference of final n to the succeeding word is of common occurrence in old poetry.

[87]. sar.

[88]. of.

[99]. a word has dropped out.

[102]. abou.

[115]. lo[=u]le.

[125]. Lwdale, i. e. Liddel.

[132]. gay.

[149]. cheyff.

[163]. Glendale is one of the seven wards of Northumberland. In this district the village of Homildown is situated, about a mile from Wooler. On the 14th of September, 1402, 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.

[170]. Nonnyn.

CHEVY-CHACE.

The text of this later ballad of Chevy-Chace is given as it appears in Old Ballads (1723), vol. i. p. 111, and in Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, vol. iv. p. 289, and differs very slightly from that of the Reliques (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 perception 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 age.

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,5
Erle Piercy took his way;
The child may rue that is unborn,
The hunting of that day.

The stout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,10
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,15
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,20

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,25
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;30
Then having din'd, the drovers went
To rouze them up again.

The bow-men muster'd on the hills,
Well able to endure;
Their backsides all, with special care,35
That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly thro' the woods,
The nimble deer to take,
And with their cries the hills and dales
An eccho shrill did make.40

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,45
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;50
Full twenty hundred Scottish spears,
All marching in our sight.

"All men of pleasant Tividale,
Fast by the river Tweed:"
"Then cease your sport," Erle Piercy said,55
"And take your bows with speed.

"And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
For there was never champion yet
In Scotland or in France,60

"That ever did on horseback come,
But, [if] my hap it were,
I durst encounter man for man,
With him to break a spear."

Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed,65
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,70
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,75
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;80

"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 were,85
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:90
"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 told95
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.100

"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 fight with heart and hand."

Our English archers bent their bows,105
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;110
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 gentleman115
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.120

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,125
With swords of temper'd steel;
Until the blood, like drops of rain,
They trickling down did feel.

"Yield thee, Lord Piercy," Douglas said;
"In faith I will thee bring,130
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 couragious knight135
That ever I did see.

"[No], Douglas," quoth Earl Piercy then,
"Thy proffer I do scorn;
I will not yield to any Scot
That ever yet was born."140

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,145
"Fight on, my merry men all;
For why, my life is at an end,
Lord Piercy sees my fall."

Then leaving life, Earl Piercy took
The dead man by the hand;150
And said, "Earl Douglas, for thy life
Would I had lost my land!

"O Christ! my very heart doth bleed
With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure, a more renowned knight155
Mischance did never take."

A knight amongst the Scots there was,
Which saw Earl Douglas dye,
Who straight in wrath did vow revenge
Upon the Earl Piercy.160

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call'd,
Who, with a spear most bright,
Well-mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran fiercely thro' the fight;

And pass'd the English archers all,165
Without all dread or fear,
And through Earl Piercy's body then
He thrust his hateful spear.

With such a veh'ment force and might
He did his body gore,170
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'd175
The noble earl was slain.

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.180

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 day185
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,190
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 Rabby there was slain,195
Whose prowess did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wail,
[As one in doleful dumps;]
For when his legs were smitten off,
He fought upon his stumps.200

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 Ratcliff, too,205
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;210
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears
Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three;
The rest were slain in Chevy-Chace,215
Under the green-wood tree.

Next day did many widows come,
Their husbands to bewail;
They wash'd their wounds in brinish tears,
But [all] would not prevail.220

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,225
Where Scotland's king did reign,
That brave Earl Douglas suddenly
Was with an arrow slain.

"O heavy news," King James did say;
"Scotland can witness be,230
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 Northumberland235
Was slaine in Chevy-Chace.

"Now God be with him," said our king,
"Sith 't will no better be;
I trust I have within my realm

Five hundred as good as he.240

"Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say,
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,245
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:250
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 debate255
'Twixt noblemen may cease!

[62]. since.—O. B.

[123]. Percy has lions wood.

[137]. To.

[187]. 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 author, before the Reformation.—Percy.

[198]. "I, as one in deep concern, must lament." The construction 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.

[220]. They.—O. B.

SIR ANDREW BARTON.

From Percy's Reliques, ii. 193.

"The transactions which did the greatest honour to the Earl of Surrey and his family at this time [A. D. 1511], 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 extremely 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 with complaints from the sailors and merchants, that Barton, who was called Sir Andrew Barton, under pretence of searching 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 depredations,

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 River 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 reconciled 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].

THE FIRST PART.

[When Flora with her fragrant flowers]
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye,
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,5
Over the river of Thames past hee;
When eighty merchants of London came,
And downe they knelt upon their knee.

"O yee are welcome, rich merchànts,
Good saylors, welcome unto mee:"10
They swore by the rood, they were saylors good,
But rich merchànts 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,15
Who robbs us of our merchant ware."

King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde,
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,
"I thought he had not beene in the world,
Durst have wrought England such unright."20
The merchants sighed, and said, "Alas!"
And thus they did their answer frame;

"He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas,
And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name."

The king lookt over his left shoulder,25
And an angrye look then looked hee;
"Have I never a lorde in all my realme,
Will feitch yond traytor unto mee?"
"Yea, that dare I," Lord Charles Howard sayes;
"Yea, that dare I, with heart and hand;30
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, Ile make him quail,35
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."40

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," sais hee, "I must to the sea,45
To bring home a traytor live or dead;
Before all others I have chosen thee,
Of a hundred gunners to be the head."

"If you, my lord, have chosen mee
Of a hundred gunners to be the head,50
Then hang me up on your maine-mast tree,
If I misse my marke one shilling bread."
My lord then chose a boweman rare,
[Whose active hands had gained fame;]
In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne,55
And William Horseley was his name.

"Horsley," sayd he, "I must with speede
Go seeke a traytor on the sea,
And now of a hundred bowemen brave
To be the head I have chosen thee."60
"If you," quoth hee, "have chosen mee
Of a hundred bowemen to be the head,
On your main-mast Ile hanged bee,
If I miss twelvescore one penny bread."

With pikes, and gunnes, and bowemen bold,65
This noble Howard is gone to the sea;
With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare,
Out at Thames mouth sayled he.
And days he scant had sayled three,
Upon the journey he tooke in hand,70
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;

And shewe me where thy dwelling is,75
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."80

"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!"85
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,90
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,95
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

It shall be doubled shillings three."100
"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,105
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;110
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,]115
If once his beames they doe downe fall."
"This is cold comfort," sais my lord,
"To wellcome a stranger thus to the sea:

Yet Ile bring him and his shipp to shore,
Or to Scotland hee shall carrye mee."120

"Then a noble gunner you must have,
And he must aim well with his ee,
And sinke his pinnace into the sea,
Or else hee never orecome will bee.
And if you chance his shipp to borde,125
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,130
On each side of my shipp along,
And I will lead you on the sea.
A glasse Ile sett, that may be seene,
Whether you sayle by day or night;
And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke,
You shall meet with Sir Andrewe Barton, knight."135

[1-4]. from the printed copy.

[54]. from the printed copy.

[91]. The MS. has here archborde, but in Part II. v. [5], hachebord.

[115]. It should seem from hence, that before our marine artillery was brought to its present perfection, some naval commanders had recourse to instruments or machines, similar 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 otherwise damaging them.—Percy.

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.

His [hachebord] it was hached with gold,5
Soe deerlye dight it dazzled the ee;
"Nowe by my faith," Lord Howarde sais,
"This is a gallant sight to see.

"Take in your ancyents, standards eke,
So close that no man may them see;10
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,15
"That can soe litle curtesye?

"Now by the roode, three yeares and more
I have been admirall over the sea,
And never an English nor Portingall
Without my leave can passe this way."20
Then called he forth his stout pinnàce;
"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;25
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,

"Looke that thy word be true, thou said;30
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,35
With other 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.40

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;
Ile fetch yond pedlars backe mysell."
When my lord sawe Sir Andrewe loose,45
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;50
Itt is my lord admirall of Englànd,
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,55
Killed threescore of his men of warre.

Then Henrye Hunt, with rigour hott,
Came bravely on the other side;
Soone he drove downe his fore-mast tree,
And killed fourscore men beside.60
"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,65
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;70
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,75
Stroke the Gordon through the braine;
And he fell unto the haches again,
And sore his deadlye wounde did bleede:
Then word went through Sir Andrews men,
How that the Gordon hee was dead.80

"Come hither to mee, James Hambilton,
Thou art my only sisters sonne;
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall,

Six hundred [nobles] thou hast wonne."
With that he swarved the main-mast tree,85
He swarved it with nimble art;
But Horseley with a broad arrowe
Pierced the Hambilton thorough the heart.

And downe he fell upon the deck,
That with his blood did streame amaine:90
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 proofe,95
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.100
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 brothèr, could cope with thee."

"Come hither, Horseley," sayes my lord,105
"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."

"Ile shoot my best," quoth Horseley then,109
"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,115
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.120

["Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes,]
"A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine;
Ile but lye downe and bleede a while,
And then Ile rise and fight againe.
Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes,125
"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:130
Then Horseley sayd, "Aboard, my lord,
For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead."

They boarded then his noble shipp,
They boarded it with might and maine;
Eighteen score Scots alive they found,135
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."140
He caused his body to be cast
Over the hatchbord into the sea,
And about his middle three hundred crownes:
"Wherever thou land, this will bury thee."

Thus from the warres Lord Howard came,145
And backe he sayled ore the maine;
With mickle joy and triumphìng
Into Thames mouth he came againe.
Lord Howard then a letter wrote,
And sealed it with seale and ring;150
"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,155
[Before in England was but one]."

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?"160

"The rover, he is 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 ship165
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,170
A noble a day now thou shalt have,
Sir Andrewes jewels and his chayne.
And Horseley thou shalt be a knight,
And lands and livings shalt have store;
[Howard shall be Erle Surrye hight,]175
As Howards erst have beene before.

"Nowe, Peter Simon, thou art old,
I will maintaine thee and thy sonne;

And the men shall have five hundred markes
For the good service they have done."180
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,185
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,190
His men shall have twelvepence a day,
Till they come to my brother kings high land."

[13]. i.e. did not salute.

[84]. pounds. MS.

[121-4]. This stanza occurs also in Johnie Armstrang, vol. vi. p. 44.

[156]. That is the Great Harry, built in 1504, at an expense of fourteen thousand pounds. "She was," says Hume, "properly speaking, the first ship in the English navy. Before this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no other expedient than hiring or pressing ships from the merchants."

[175-6].... Erle of Nottingham, And soe was never, &c. MS.

FLODDEN FIELD.

From Ritson's Ancient Songs, 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, King of Scots, with an inferior army of 15,000 men, who were entirely routed with great slaughter, their heroic sovereign 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 John Winchcomb, otherwise called Jack 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 Deloney, but derived by him from tradition.

There is a piece called Flodden Field in Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 86. It is made up of certain ridiculous anonymous verses, and of the stanzas written by Miss Jane Elliot and by Mrs. Cockburn to the old air The 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 song.

"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 fragment 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,5
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:10
"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,15
England is hard to win."

"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."20

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,25
"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;30
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,35
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.40

[That day made many a fatherless child,]
And many a widow poor,
And many a Scottish gay lady
Sate [weeping] in her bower.

Jack with a fether was lapt all in lether,45
His boastings were all in vain;
He had such a chance with [a] new morrice-dance,
He never went home again.

[41-44]. This stanza is the sixth in Deloney's copy, and is there clearly misplaced.

[44]. sweeping.

QUEEN JEANIE.

Jane Seymour, queen of Henry VIII., died shortly after giving birth to Prince Edward (Oct. 1537). There was a report that the Cæsarian operation had been necessary to effect the delivery, and on this story the present ballad is founded.

There is a woful ditty on this subject in The 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.

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 bedside,5
"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:"10
Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, travel'd six weeks and more,
Till midwives and doctors had quite gi'en her o'er.

"O 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 bedside,15
"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?"

"Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that's what I'll never do,
To rip up your two sides to save your babie."20

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,25
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;30
O black were their mufflers, and black were their shoes,
And black were the cheverons they drew on their luves.

They mourned in the kitchen, and they mourn'd in the ha',
But royal King Henry mourn'd langest of a'.
Farewell to fair England, farewell for evermore,35
For the fair flower of England will never shine more!

THE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE.

From Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs 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 Henrie, and bring him to me!"

King Henrie was sent for, he came with all speed,5
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;10
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.

So black was the mourning, and white were the wands,15
Yellow, yellow the torches they bore in their hands;
The bells they were muffled, and mournful did play,
While 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,20
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 Darnley, the unfortunate 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 kingdom, of which he was a native. Henry appears to have been a vain, capricious, worthless young man,

of weak understanding, and dissolute morals. But the beauty of his 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 murdered, 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, with a few corrections, from the Editor's folio MS.) seems to have been written soon after Mary's escape into England in 1568, see v. 65.—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 Scotlànde!
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,5
And sealed itt with harte and ringe;
And bade him come Scotland within,
And shee wold marry and crowne him kinge.

To be a king is a pleasant thing,
To bee a prince unto a peere:10
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,15
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.20

Some lords in Scotlande waxed wrothe,
And quarrelled with him for the nonce;
I shall you tell how it befell,
Twelve daggers were in him att once.

When the queene saw her chamberlaine was slaine,25
For him her faire cheeks shee did weete,
And 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,30
For the death of the queenes chamberlaine,
The king himselfe, how he shall dye.

With gun-powder they strewed his roome,
And layd greene rushes in his way;
For the traitors thought that very night35
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 blasing fire.40

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;45
"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."50
"Ah, Lord Bodwell, I know thee well;
Some pitty on me I pray thee take."

"Ile pitty thee as much," he sayd,
"And as much favor show to thee,
As thou didst to the queenes chamberlaine,55
That day thou deemedst him to die."

Through halls and towers the king they ledd,
Through towers and castles that were nye,
Through an arbor into an orchàrd,
There on a peare-tree hanged him hye.60

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,65
And here her residence hath taine,
And through the Queene of Englands grace,
In England 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 Catholic party in the North of England, and interested themselves warmly in various projects to restore Mary

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 combination powerful enough to extort her consent, but the Queen received information betimes, and committed 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 reëstablish 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, are 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

minds, they fell upon Barnard's castle, which Sir George Bowes held out against them for eleven days."—Percy.

The insurgents' army amounted to about six thousand men. The Earl of Sussex, supported by Lord Hunsdon and others, marched against them with seven thousand, and the Earl of Warwick with still greater forces. Before these superior numbers the rebels dispersed without striking a blow. Northumberland 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 Hunsdon. Great cruelties were exercised by the victorious party, no less than eight hundred having, it is said, suffered 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 Nortons," we need hardly say, forms the subject of Wordsworth's White Doe of Rylstone.

Listen, lively lordlings all,
Lithe and listen unto mee,
And I will sing of a noble earle,
The noblest earle in the north countrìe.

Earle Percy is into his garden gone,5
And after him walkes his faire ladìe:
"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;10
But goe to London to the court,
And faire fall truth and honestìe."

"Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay,
Alas! thy counsell suits not mee;
Mine enemies prevail so fast,15
That at the court I may not bee."

"O goe to the court yet, good my lord,
And take thy gallant men with thee;
If any dare to doe you wrong,
Then your warrant they may bee."20

"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,25
"And I myselfe will ride wi' thee:
At court then for my dearest lord,
His faithfull borrowe I will bee."

Now nay, now nay, my lady deare;
Far lever had I lose my life,30
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 goe35
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."40

One while the little foot-page went,
And another while he ran;
Untill he came to his journeys end
The little foot-page never blan.

When to that gentleman he came,45
Down he kneeled on his knee,
And tooke the letter betwixt his hands,
And lett the gentleman it see.

And when the letter it was redd
Affore that goodlye companye,50
I-wis, if you the truthe wold know,
There was many a weepynge eye.

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?"55

"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."60

"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,]65
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,70
"O father, till the daye we dye
We'll stand by that good erle and thee."

"Gramercy now, my children deare,
You showe yourselves right bold and brave;
And whethersoe'er I live or dye,75
A fathers blessing you shal have."

"But what sayst thou, O Francis Norton?
Thou art mine oldest sonn and heire;
Somewhat lyes brooding in thy breast;
Whatever it bee, to mee declare."80

"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,85
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;90
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 Erle Percy,95
And all the flower o' Northumberland.

With them the noble Nevill came,
The erle of Westmorland was hee:
At Wetherbye they mustred their host,
Thirteen thousand faire to see.100

Lord Westmorland his ancyent raisde,
The [Dun Bull] he rays'd on hye,
And three Dogs with golden collars
Were there sett out most royallye.

Erie Percy there his ancyent spred,105
[The Halfe-Moone shining all soe faire:]

The Nortons ancyent had the crosse,
And the five wounds our Lord did beare.

Then Sir George Bowes he straitwaye rose,
After them some spoyle to make;110
Those noble erles turn'd backe againe,
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,115
The earles have won them presentlìe.

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.120

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,125
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;130
She caused thirty thousand men be raised,
To take the earles i' th' North countrie.

Wi' them the false Erle Warwick went,
Th' Erle Sussex and the Lord Hunsden;
Untill they to Yorke castle came,
I-wiss they never stint ne blan.135

Now spred thy ancyent, Westmorland,
Thy dun bull faine would we spye:
And thou, the Erle o' Northumberland,
Now rayse thy half moone up on hye.140

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,145
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:150
And many a childe made fatherlesse,
And widowed many a tender wife.

[65]. 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, the father, was living long after the rebellion in Spanish Flanders. See Sharp's Bishoprick Garland, p. 10.

[102]. The supporters of the Nevilles Earls of Westmoreland 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 minstrel's verses here may have undergone some corruption; for, in another ballad in the 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 up my faire Dun Bull,
With Gilden Hornes, hee beares all soe hye."—P.

[106]. The Silver Crescent is a well-known crest or badge of the Northumberland family. It was probably brought home from some of the crusades against the Sarazens.—P.

NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS.

Percy's Reliques, i. 295.

The Earls of Northumberland 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. Northumberland took up his residence with a man of that tribe called Hector of Harlaw, relying on his plighted faith and on his gratitude for many past favors. By this miscreant the Earl was betrayed for money to the Regent Murray. He was confined in Lochleven Castle until 1572, when he was handed over to Lord Hunsden, and executed at York.

We are assured that this Hector, who had been rich, fell into poverty after his treachery, and became so infamous that "to take Hector's cloak" was a proverb for a man who betrayed his friend.

In Pinkerton's Poems from the Maitland MS. (pp. 219-234) are three bitter invectives on this subject. In one of these we are told that the traitor Eckie of Harlaw said he sold the Earl "to redeem his pledge," that is, says Scott, the pledge which had been exacted from him for his peaceable demeanor.

"The interposal of the Witch-Lady (v. 53)" hath some countenance from history; for, about twenty-five

years before, the Lady Jane Douglas, Lady Glamis, sister of the Earl of Angus, and nearly related to Douglas of Lough-leven, had suffered death for the pretended crime of witchcraft; who, it is presumed, is the witch-lady alluded to in [verse 133].

"The following is selected (like the former) from two copies, which contained great variations; one of them in the Editor's folio MS. In the other copy some of the stanzas at the beginning of this ballad are nearly the same with what in that MS. are made to begin another ballad on the escape of the Earl of Westmoreland, who got safe into Flanders, and is feigned in the ballad to have undergone a great variety of adventures."—Percy.

"How long shall fortune faile me nowe,
And harrowe me with fear and dread?
How long shall I in bale abide,
In misery my life to lead?

"To fall from my bliss, alas the while!5
It was my sore and heavye lott;
And I must leave my native land,
And I must live a man forgot.

"One gentle Armstrong I doe ken,
A Scot he is, much bound to mee;10
He dwelleth on the Border side,
To him I'll goe right privilie."

Thus did the noble Percy 'plaine,
With a heavy heart and wel-away,
When he with all his gallant men15
On Bramham moor had lost the day.

But when he to the Armstrongs came,
They dealt with him all treacherouslye;
For they did strip that noble earle,
And ever an ill death may they dye!20

False Hector to Earl Murray sent,
To shew him where his guest did hide,
Who sent him to the Lough-levèn,
With William Douglas to abide.

And when he to the Douglas came,25
He halched him right courteouslie;
Say'd, "Welcome, welcome, noble earle,
Here thou shalt safelye bide with mee."

When he had in Lough-leven been
Many a month and many a day,30
To the regent the lord warden sent,
That bannisht earle for to betray.

He offered him great store of gold,
And wrote a letter fair to see,
Saying, "Good my lord, grant me my boon,35
And yield that banisht man to mee."

Earle Percy at the supper sate,
With many a goodly gentleman;
The wylie Douglas then bespake,
And thus to flyte with him began.40

"What makes you be so sad, my lord,
And in your mind so sorrowfullye?
To-morrow a shootinge will bee held
Among the lords of the North countrye.

"The butts are sett, the shooting's made,45
And there will be great royaltye;
And I am sworne into my bille,
Thither to bring my Lord Percye."

"I'll give thee my hand, thou gentle Douglas,
And here by my true faith," quoth hee,50
"If thou wilt ryde to the worldes end
I will ryde in thy companye."

And then bespake a lady faire,
Mary à Douglas was her name;
"You shall byde here, good English lord,55
My brother is a traiterous man.

"He is a traitor stout and stronge,
As I tell you in privitie;
[For he hath tane liverance of the erle,]

Into England nowe to 'liver thee."60

"Now nay, now nay, thou goodly lady,
The regent is a noble lord:
Ne for the gold in all Englànd
The Douglas wold not break his word.

"When the regent was a banisht man,65
With me he did faire welcome find;
And whether weal or woe betide,
I still shall find him true and kind.

"Between England and Scotland it wold breake truce,
And friends againe they wold never bee,70
If they shold 'liver a banisht erle,
Was driven out of his own countrie."

"Alas! alas! my lord," she sayes,
"Nowe mickle is their traitorie;
Then lett my brother ryde his wayes,75
And tell those English lords from thee,

"How that you cannot with him ryde,
Because you are in [an ile of the sea,]
Then ere my brother come againe,

To Edenborow castle Ile carry thee.80

"To the Lord Hume I will thee bring;
He is well knowne a true Scots lord,
And he will lose both land and life,
Ere he with thee will break his word."

"Much is my woe," Lord Percy sayd,85
"When I thinke on my own countrìe,
When I thinke on the heavye happe
My friends have suffered there for mee.

"Much is my woe," Lord Percy sayd,
"And sore those wars my minde distresse;90
Where many a widow lost her mate,
And many a child was fatherlesse.

"And now that I a banisht man
Shold bring such evil happe with mee,
To cause my faire and noble friends95
To be suspect of treacherie,

"This rives my heart with double woe;
And lever had I dye this day,
Than thinke a Douglas can be false,
Or ever he will his guest betray."100

"If you'll give me no trust, my lord,
Nor unto mee no credence yield,
Yet step one moment here aside,
Ile showe you all your foes in field."

"Lady, I never loved witchcraft,105
Never dealt in privy wyle;
But evermore held the high-waye
Of truth and honour, free from guile."

"If you'll not come yourselfe, my lorde,
Yet send your chamberlaine with mee,110
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 were115
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."120

"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, madàme,125
Betwixt yond English lords and mee?"

"Marry, 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,130
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-leven135
What they did in London citìe."

"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."140

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 Swynàrd,145
I may not believe that witch ladìe;
The Douglasses were ever true,
And they can ne'er prove false to mee.

"I have now in Lough-leven been
The most part of these years three,150
Yett have I never had noe outrake,
Ne no good games that I cold see.

"Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend,
As to the Douglas I have hight:
Betide me weale, betide me woe,155
He ne'er shall find my promise light."

He writhe a gold ring from his finger,
And gave itt to that gay ladìe:
Sayes, "It was all that I cold save,
In Harley woods where I cold bee."160

"And wilt thou goe, thou noble lord?
Then farewell truth and honestìe,
And farewell heart, and farewell hand,
For never more I shall thee see."

The wind was faire, the boatmen call'd,165
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!"170
The lady fett a sigh soe deep,
And in a dead swoone down shee fell.

"Now let us goe back, Douglas," he sayd,
"A sickness hath taken yond faire ladìe;
If ought befall yond lady but good,175
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 in Lough-leven
For to cheere that gay ladìe."180

"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,185
"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,190
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,195
Ere you that shooting reach, I ween."

Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe,
He thought his lord then was betray'd;
And he is to Erle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd.200

"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,205
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;210
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 good215
Before that ever I mett with thee.

"A false Hector hath my horse,
Who dealt with mee so treacherouslìe;
A false Armstrong hath my spurres,

And all the geere belongs to mee."220

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,225
It was, alas! a sorrowful sight;
Thus they betrayed that noble earle,
Who ever was a gallant wight.

[59]. Of the Earl of Morton, the Regent.—P.

[78]. i. e. Lake of Leven, which hath communication with the sea. Edinburgh was at that time in the hands of the opposite faction.—P.

[119]. The Lord Warden of the East Marches.—P.

[123]. Governor of Berwick.—P.

[139]. Warden of the Middle-march.—P.

[224]. fol. MS. reads land, and has not the following stanza.

KING OF SCOTS AND ANDREW BROWNE.

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

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 chamberlaine, prevented the same. To the tune of Milfield, or els to Green-sleeves. At the end is subjoined the name of the author, W. Elderton. 'Imprinted at London for 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 thing5
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,10
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.15

On Whitsun eve it so befell,
A posset was made to give the king,

Whereof his ladie nurse hard tell,
And that it was a poysoned thing:
She cryed, and called piteouslie,20
"Now help, or else the king shall die!"
Alas for woe, &c.

One Browne, that was an English man,
And hard the ladies piteous crye,
Out with his sword, and bestir'd him than,25
Out of the doores in haste to flie;
But all the doores were made so fast,
Out of a window he got at last.
Alas for woe, &c.

He met the bishop coming fast,30
Having the posset in his hande:
The sight of Browne made him aghast,
Who bad him stoutly staie and stand.
With him were two that ranne awa,
For feare that Browne would make a fray.35
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.40
First I will have thyself begin,
Before thou go any further in;
Be it weale or woe, it shall be so.
This makes a sorrowful heigh ho."

The bishop sayde, "Browne, I doo know,45
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:50
Happe well or woe, it shall be so.
Drink now with a sorrowfull," &c.

The bishop dranke, and by and by
His belly burst and he fell downe:
A just rewarde for his traitery!55
"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,60
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:65
Alas for woe, &c.

"Alas," he said, "unhappie realme,
[My father, and grandfather slaine:]

My mother banished, O extreame
Unhappy fate, and bitter bayne!70
And now like treason wrought for me—
What more unhappie realme can be!"
Alas for woe, &c.

The king did call his nurse to his grace,
And gave her twenty poundes a yeere;75
And trustie Browne too in like case,
He knighted him with gallant geere,
And gave him lands and livings great,
For dooing such a manly feat,
As he did showe, to the bishop's woe,80
Which made, &c.

When all this treason done and past
Tooke not effect of traytery,
Another treason at the last,
They sought against his majestie;85
How they might make their kinge away
By a privie banket on a daye.
Alas for woe, &c.

'Another time' to sell the king
Beyonde the seas they had decreede:90
Three noble Earles heard of this thing,
And did prevent the same with speede.
For a letter came, with such a charme,
That they should doo their king no harme:
For further woe, if they did soe,95
Would make a sorrowful heigh hoe.

The Earle Mourton told the Douglas then,
"Take heede you do not offend the king;
But shew yourselves like honest men
Obediently in every thing;100
For [his godmother] will not see
Her noble child misus'd to be
With any woe; for if it be so,
She will make," &c.

God graunt all subjects may be true,105
In England, Scotland, every where,
That no such daunger may ensue,
To put the prince or state in feare:
That God, the highest king, may see
Obedience as it ought to be.110
In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so,
To avoide the sorrowful heigh ho.

[68]. His father was Henry Lord Darnley. His grandfather, the old Earl of Lenox, regent of Scotland, and father of Lord Darnley, was murdered at Stirling, Sept. 5, 1571.—P.

[101]. Queen Elizabeth.

MARY AMBREE.

Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, ii. 230.

"In the year 1584, the Spaniards, under the command of Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, began to gain great advantages in Flanders and Brabant, by recovering many strongholds and cities from the

Hollanders, as Ghent (called then by the English Gaunt), Antwerp, Mechlin, &c. See Stow's Annals, p. 711. Some attempt made with the assistance of English volunteers to retrieve the former of those places, probably gave occasion to this ballad. I can find no mention of our heroine in history, but the following rhymes rendered her famous among our poets. Ben Jonson often mentions her, and calls any remarkable virago by her name. See his Epic[oe]ne, first acted in 1609, Act 4, sc. 2: his Tale of a Tub, Act 4, sc. 4: and his masque entitled The Fortunate Isles, 1626, where he quotes the very words of the ballad,

—— Mary Ambree,
(Who marched so free
To the siege of Gaunt,
And death could not daunt,
As the ballad doth vaunt)
Were a braver wight, &c.

She is also mentioned in Fletcher's Scornful Lady, Act 5, sub finem.

"This ballad is printed from a black-letter copy in the Pepys Collection, improved from the Editor's folio MS., and by conjecture. The full title is, "The valourous acts performed at Gaunt by the brave bonnie lass Mary Ambree, who, in revenge of her lovers death, did play her part most gallantly". The tune is, The blind beggar, &c."—Percy.

When captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte,
Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt,

They mustred their souldiers by two and by three,
And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.

When [the] brave sergeant-major] was slaine in her sight,5
Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,
Because he was slaine most treacherouslìe,
Then vowd to revenge him Mary Ambree.

She clothed herselfe from the top to the toe,
In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe;10
A faire shirt of male then slipped on shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?

A helmett of proofe shee strait did provide,
A stronge arminge-sword shee girt by her side,
On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee:15
Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?

Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in hand,
Bidding all such, as wold, [to] bee of her band;
To wayte on her person came thousand and three:
Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?20

"My soldiers," she saith, "soe valliant and bold,
Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde;

Still formost in battell myselfe will I bee:"
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Then cryed out her souldiers, and loude they did say,25
"Soe well thou becomest this gallant array,
Thy harte and thy weapons so well do agree,
Noe mayden was ever like Mary Ambree."

Shee cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life,30
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife,
With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free;
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

"Before I will see the worst of you all
To come into danger of death or of thrall,
This hand and this life I will venture so free:"35
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Shee ledd upp her souldiers in battaile array,
Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;
Seven howers in skirmish continued shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?40

She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott,
And her enemyes bodyes with bullets so hott;
For one of her owne men a score killed shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent,45
Away all her pellets and powder had sent,
Straight with her keen weapon shee slasht him in three:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;50
Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lassee, Mary Ambree?

Her foes they besett her on everye side,
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beate down the walles they all did decree:55
But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.

Then tooke shee her sword and her targett in hand,
And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,
There daring their captaines to match any three:
O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!60

"Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou give
To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?
Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee:"
Then smiled sweetlye brave Mary Ambree.

"Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold,65
Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?"
"A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,
Who shortleye with us a prisoner must bee."

"No captaine of England; behold in your sight
Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight:70
Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see,
But a poor simple mayden called Mary Ambree."

"But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare,
Whose valor hath proved so undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield such brave mayden as thee,75
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree."

The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne
Who long had advanced for Englands faire crowne;
Hee wooed her and sued her his mistress to bee,
And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree.80

But this virtuous mayden despised them all:
"Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall;
A mayden of England, sir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke," quoth Mary Ambree.

Then to her owne country shee backe did returne,85
Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne;
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

[5]. So P. C. Sir John Major in MS.

BRAVE LORD WILLOUGHBEY.

Percy's Reliques, ii. 235.

"Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby, had, in the year 1586, distinguished himself at the siege of Zutphen, in the Low Countries. He was the year after made general of the English forces in the United Provinces, in room of the Earl of Leicester, who was recalled. This gave him an opportunity of signalizing his courage and military skill in several actions against the Spaniards. One of these, greatly exaggerated by popular report, is probably the subject of this old ballad, which, on account of its flattering encomiums on English valour, hath always been a favourite with the people.

"Lord Willoughbie died in 1601.—Both Norris and Turner were famous among the military men of that age.

"The subject of this ballad (which is printed from an old black-letter copy, with some conjectural emendations) may possibly receive illustration from what Chapman says in the dedication to his version of Homer's Frogs and Mice, concerning the brave and

memorable retreat of Sir John Norris, with only 1000 men, through the whole Spanish army, under the Duke of Parma, for three miles together." Percy.

Lord Willoughby was son of that Duchess of Suffolk, whose extraordinary adventures, while in exile on the continent during the reign of Queen Mary, are the subject of an often-printed ballad called the [Duchess of Suffolk's Calamity]. See Strange Histories, Percy Society, iii. 17, and the Appendix to this volume.

The fifteenth day of July,
With glistering spear and shield,
A famous fight in Flanders
Was foughten in the field:
The most couragious officers5
Were English captains three;
But the bravest man in battel
Was brave Lord Willoughbèy.

The next was Captain Norris,
A valiant man was hee;10
The other Captain Turner,
From field would never flee.
With fifteen hundred fighting men,
Alas! there were no more,
They fought with fourteen thousand then,15
Upon the bloody shore.

"Stand to it, noble pikemen,
And look you round about:

And shoot you right, you bow-men,
And we will keep them out.20
You musquet and calìver men,
Do you prove true to me:
I'le be the formost man in fight,"
Says brave Lord Willoughbèy.

And then the bloody enemy25
They fiercely did assail,
And fought it out most furiously,
Not doubting to prevail.
The wounded men on both sides fell,
Most pitious for to see,30
Yet nothing could the courage quell
Of brave Lord Willoughbèy.

For seven hours, to all mens view,
This fight endured sore,
Until our men so feeble grew35
That they could fight no more;
And then upon dead horses,
Full savourly they eat,
And drank the puddle water,
They could no better get.40

When they had fed so freely,
They kneeled on the ground,
And praised God devoutly
For the favour they had found;

And beating up their colours,45
The fight they did renew,
And turning tow'rds the Spaniard,
A thousand more they slew.

The sharp steel-pointed arrows,
And bullets thick did fly;50
Then did our valiant soldiers
Charge on most furiously:
Which made the Spaniards waver;
They thought it best to flee;
They fear'd the stout behaviour55
Of brave Lord Willoughbèy.

Then quoth the Spanish general,
"Come, let us march away;
I fear we shall be spoiled all
If here we longer stay;60
For yonder comes Lord Willoughbey,
With courage fierce and fell;
He will not give one inch of way
For all the devils in hell."

And then the fearful enemy65
Was quickly put to flight,
Our men persued couragiously,
And caught their forces quite;
But at [the] last they gave a shout,
Which ecchoed through the sky;70
"God and St. George for England!"
The conquerers did cry.

This news was brought to England
With all the speed might be,
And soon our gracious queen was told75
Of this same victory.
"O this is brave Lord Willoughbey,
My love that ever won;
Of all the lords of honour,
'Tis he great deeds hath done."80

To the souldiers that were maimed
And wounded in the fray,
The queen allowed a pension
Of fifteen pence a day;
And from all costs and charges85
She quit and set them free:
And this she did all for the sake
Of brave Lord Willoughbèy.

Then courage, noble Englishmen,
And never be dismaid;90
If that we be but one to ten,
We will not be afraid
To fight with foraign enemies,
And set our nation free:
And thus I end the bloody bout95
Of brave Lord Willoughbèy.

THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY.

From The Tea-Table Miscellany, ii. 188.

In consequence of a suspicion that the Earl of Murray had been party to an attempt of his cousin, the notorious Bothwell, against the person of the King (James VI.), a commission was issued for bringing Murray before the sovereign for examination. The arrest was inconsiderately entrusted to the Earl of Huntly, Murray's mortal enemy. The young earl was at that time peacefully residing at Dunnibirsel, the house of his mother, Lady Downe. Huntly surrounded the place and summoned the inmates to surrender, and the demand not being complied with, set fire to the mansion. Murray escaped from the flames, but was overtaken by his foes and savagely slain. The event took place on the night of the 7th of February, 1592.

The youth, beauty, and accomplishments of the victim of this outrage made him a favourite with the people, and there was a universal clamor for revenge. On the 10th of the month, proclamation was made for all noblemen and barons, in a great number of shires, to rise in arms, to join the King for the pursuit of the Earl of Huntly, who, however, surrendered himself, and was dismissed, on security for his appearance to answer for the crime. The moderation of James gave rise to a scandalous report, that the king countenanced

the murderer, out of jealousy for the favor with which the bonny earl was regarded by the Queen.

The ballad of Young Waters (vol. iii. p. 89) has, without convincing reasons, been supposed to be founded on the story of the Earl of Murray.

The first of the two pieces which follow is from Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. [The second], which may perhaps be a part of the same ballad, was first printed in Finlay's collection.

Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands,
O where have you been?
They have slain the Earl of Murray,
And they laid him on the green.

"Now wae be to thee, Huntly!5
And wherefore did you sae?
I bade you bring him wi' you,
But forbade you him to slay."

He was a braw gallant,
And he rid at the ring;10
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
O he might hae been a king.

He was a braw gallant,
And he play'd at the ba';
And the bonny Earl of Murray15
Was the flower amang them a'.

He was a braw gallant,
And he play'd at the glove;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
O he was the Queen's love.20

O lang will his lady
Look o'er the castle Down,
Ere she see the Earl of Murray
Come sounding thro' the town.

THE BONNIE EARL O' MURRAY.

From Finlay's Scottish Ballads, ii. 21.

"Open the gates,
And let him come in;
He is my brother Huntly,
He'll do him nae harm."

The gates they were opent,5
They let him come in;
But fause traitor Huntly,
He did him great harm.

He's ben and ben,
And ben to his bed;10
And with a sharp rapier
He stabbed him dead.

The lady came down the stair,
Wringing her hands;
"He has slain the Earl o' Murray,15
The flower o' Scotland."

But Huntly lap on his horse,
Rade to the king:
"Ye're welcome hame, Huntly,
And whare hae ye been?20

"Whare hae ye been?
And how hae ye sped?"
"I've killed the Earl o' Murray,
Dead in his bed."

"Foul fa' you, Huntly!25
And why did ye so?
You might have ta'en the Earl o' Murray
And saved his life too."

"Her bread it's to bake,
Her yill is to brew;30
My sister's a widow,
And sair do I rue.

"Her corn grows ripe,
Her meadows grow green,
But in bonny Dinnibristle35
I darena be seen."

THE WINNING OF CALES.

This is one of many exulting effusions which were called forth by the taking of Cadiz (vulgarly called Cales). The town was captured on the 21st of June, 1596, the Earl of Effingham being high-admiral of the fleet, and Essex general of the land forces. Sir W. Raleigh, Lord Thomas Howard, and other distinguished soldiers had commands in the expedition. The praise here bestowed on Essex's humanity was richly deserved, and the booty taken by the conquerors is not exaggerated. The whole loss of the Spaniards, in their city and their fleet, was estimated at twenty millions of ducats.

We give this ballad from Deloney's Garland of Good Will, as reprinted by the Percy Society, vol. xxx. p. 113. The copy in the Reliques (ii. 241), which was corrected by the editor, differs but slightly from the present.

Long had the proud Spaniards
Advancèd to conquer us,
Threatening our country
With fire and sword;
Often preparing5
Their navy most sumptuous,
With all the provision
That Spain could afford.

Dub a-dub, dub,
Thus strike the drums,10
Tan-ta-ra, ta-ra-ra,
The Englishman comes.

To the seas presently
Went our lord admiral,
With knights couragious,15
And captains full good;
The earl of Essex,
A prosperous general,
With him preparèd
To pass the salt flood.20
Dub a-dub, &c.

At Plymouth speedily,
Took they ships valiantly;
Braver ships never
Were seen under sail;
With their fair colours spread,25
And streamers o'er their head;
Now, bragging Spaniards,
Take heed of your tail.
Dub a-dub, &c.

Unto Cales cunningly,
Came we most happily,30
Where the kings navy
Did secretly ride;
Being upon their backs,
Piercing their buts of sack,

Ere that the Spaniards35
Our coming descry'd.
Tan-ta-ra, ta-ra-ra,
The Englishman comes;
Bounce a-bounce, bounce a-bounce,
Off went the guns.40

Great was the crying,
Running and riding,
Which at that season
Was made at that place;
Then beacons were firèd,45
As need was requirèd;
To hide their great treasure,
They had little space:
"Alas!" they cryèd,
"English men comes."50

There you might see the ships,
How they were firèd fast,
And how the men drown'd
Themselves in the sea;
There you may hear them cry,55
Wail and weep piteously;
When as they saw no shift
To escape thence away.
Dub a-dub, &c.

The great Saint Philip,

The pride of the Spaniards,60
Was burnt to the bottom,
And sunk in the sea;
But the Saint Andrew,
And eke the Saint Matthew,
We took in fight manfully,65
And brought them away.
Dub a-dub, &c.

The earl of Essex,
Most valiant and hardy,
With horsemen and footmen
March'd towards the town;70
The enemies which saw them,
Full greatly affrighted,
Did fly for their safeguard,
And durst not come down.
Dub a-dub, &c.

"Now," quoth the noble earl,75
"Courage, my soldiers all!
Fight, and be valiant,
And spoil you shall have;
And well rewarded all,
From the great to the small;80
But look that the women
And children you save."
Dub a-dub, &c.

The Spaniards at that sight,
Saw 'twas in vain to fight,

Hung up their flags of truce,85
Yielding the town;
We march'd in presently,
Decking the walls on high
With our English colours,
Which purchas'd renown.90
Dub a-dub, &c.

Ent'ring the houses then,
And of the richest men,
For gold and treasure
We searchèd each day;
In some places we did find95
Pye baking in the oven,
Meat at the fire roasting,
And men run away.
Dub a-dub, &c.

Full of rich merchandise,
Every shop we did see,100
Damask and sattins
And velvet full fair;
Which soldiers measure out
By the length of their swords;
Of all commodities,105
Each one hath share.
Dub a-dub, &c.

Thus Cales was taken,
And our brave general

March'd to the market-place,
There he did stand;110
There many prisoners
Of good account were took;
Many crav'd mercy,
And mercy they found.
Dub a-dub, &c.

When as our general115
Saw they delayèd time,
And would not ransom
The town as they said,
With their fair wainscots,
Their presses and bedsteads,120
Their joint-stools and tables,
A fire we made:
And when the town burnt in a flame,
With tan-ta-ra, tan-ta-ra-ra,
From thence we came.125

SIR JOHN SUCKLING'S CAMPAIGN.

"When the Scottish Covenanters rose up in arms, and advanced to the English borders in 1639, many of the courtiers complimented the king by raising forces at their own expense. Among these none were more distinguished than the gallant Sir John Suck

ling, who raised a troop of horse, so richly accoutred, that it cost him 12,000l. The like expensive equipment of other parts of the army made the king remark, that "the Scots would fight stoutly, if it were but for the Englishmen's fine cloaths." When they came to action, the rugged Scots proved more than a match for the fine showy English: many of whom behaved remarkably ill, and among the rest this splendid troop of Sir John Suckling's." Percy.

This scoffing ballad, sometimes attributed to Suckling himself, is taken from the Musarum Deliciæ of Sir John Mennis and Dr. James Smith (p. 81 of the reprint, Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike preparations for the Scotish warre). The former is said by Wood to have been the author. Percy's copy (Reliques, ii. 341) has one or two different readings.—The first stanza is a parody on John Dory.

Sir John got him an ambling nag,
To Scotland for to ride-a,
With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore,
To guard him on every side-a.

No errant-knight ever went to fight5
With halfe so gay a bravado,
Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book,
Hee'ld have conquer'd a whole armado.

The ladies ran all to the windowes to see

So gallant and warlike a sight-a,10
And as he pass'd by, they began to cry,
"Sir John, why will you go fight-a?"

But he, like a cruel knight, spurr'd on,
His heart did not relent-a;
[For, till he came there, he shew'd no fear;]15
Till then why should he repent-a?

The king (God bless him!) had singular hopes
Of him and all his troop-a:
The borderers they, as they met him on the way,
For joy did hollow and whoop-a.20

None lik'd him so well as his own colonel,
Who took him for [John de Weart-a;]
But when there were shows of gunning and blows,
My gallant was nothing so peart-a.

For when the Scots army came within sight,25
And all men prepared to fight-a,
He ran to his tent; they ask'd what he meant;
He swore he must needs goe s——- a.

The colonel sent for him back agen,

To quarter him in the van-a,30
But Sir John did swear, he came not there
To be kill'd the very first man-a.

To cure his fear, he was sent to the rere,
Some ten miles back, and more-a;
Where he did play at tre trip for hay,35
And ne'er saw the enemy more-a.

But now there is peace, he's returned to increase
His money, which lately he spent-a;
But his lost honor must still lye in the dust;
At Barwick away it went-a.40

[15].

For till he came there, what had he to fear;
Or why should he repent-a?

Percy.

[22]. John de Wert was a German general of reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of Louis XIII. Hence his name became proverbial in France, where he was called De Vert. Percy.

THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 177.

By a rapid series of extraordinary victories, (see [The Haws of Cromdale], and [The Battle of Alford] in the Appendix,) Montrose had subdued Scotland to the royal arms, from the Grampians to Edinburgh. After taking possession of the capital, he marched forward to the frontiers, with the intention of completing the subjugation of the southern provinces, and even of leading his wild array into England to the support of King Charles. Having traversed the Border, and strengthened his army (greatly diminished by the departure of the Irish and many of the Highlanders) with some small reinforcements, Montrose encamped on the 12th of September, 1645, at Philiphaugh, a large plain,

separated by the river Ettrick from the town of Selkirk, and extending in an easterly direction from a wooded hill, called the Harehead-wood, to a high ground which forms the banks of the river Tweed. Here the infantry were very conveniently disposed, while the general took up his quarters with all his cavalry at Selkirk, thus interposing a river between his horse and foot. This extraordinary error, whether rashness or oversight, was destined to be severely expiated. The very next morning, the Covenanters, under General David Lesly, recalled from England by the danger threatened their cause by the victories of Montrose, crossed the Ettrick and fell on the encampment of the infantry, unperceived by a single scout. A hopeless discomfiture was the natural consequence. Montrose, roused by the firing, arrived with a few of his cavalry too late to redeem the day, and beheld his army slaughtered, or scattered in a retreat in which he was himself fain to join. The fruit of all his victories was lost in this defeat, and he was never again able to make head in Scotland against the Covenanters.

The following ballad was first printed by Sir Walter Scott, with prefatory remarks which we have here abridged. It is preserved by tradition in Selkirkshire, and coincides closely with historical fact.

On Philiphaugh a fray began,
At Hairhead-wood it ended;
The Scots out o'er the Græmes they ran,
Sae merrily they bended.

Sir David frae the Border came,5
Wi' heart an' hand came he;
Wi' him three thousand bonny Scots,
To bear him company.

Wi' him three thousand valiant men,
A noble sight to see!10
A cloud o' mist them weel conceal'd,
As close as e'er might be.

When they came to [the Shaw burn,]
Said he, "Sae weel we frame,
I think it is convenient15
[That we should sing a psalm]."

When they came to [the Lingly burn],
As daylight did appear,
They spy'd an aged father,
And he did draw them near.20

"Come hither, aged father!"
Sir David he did cry,
"And tell me where Montrose lies,
With all his great army."

"But first you must come tell to me,25
If friends or foes you be;
I fear you are Montrose's men,
Come frae the north country."

"No, we are nane o' Montrose's men,
Nor e'er intend to be;30
I am Sir David Lesly,
That's speaking unto thee."

"If you're Sir David Lesly,
As I think weel ye be,
I am sorry ye hae brought so few35
Into your company.

"[There's fifteen thousand armed men]
Encamped on yon lee;
Ye'll never be a bite to them,
For aught that I can see.40

"But halve your men in equal parts,
Your purpose to fulfill;
Let ae half keep the water side,
The rest gae round the hill.

"Your nether party fire must,45
Then beat a flying drum;

And then they'll think the day's their ain,
And frae the trench they'll come.

"Then, those that are behind them, maun
Gie shot, baith grit and sma';50
And so, between your armies twa,
Ye may make them to fa'."

"O were ye ever a soldier?"
Sir David Lesly said;
"O yes; I was at [Solway Flow],55
Where we were all betray'd.

"Again I was at curst Dunbar,
And was a pris'ner ta'en;
And many weary night and day
In prison I hae lien."60

"If ye will lead these men aright,
Rewarded shall ye be;
But, if that ye a traitor prove,
I'll hang thee on a tree."

"Sir, I will not a traitor prove;65
Montrose has plunder'd me;

I'll do my best to banish him
Away frae this country."

He halved his men in equal parts,
His purpose to fulfill;70
The one part kept the water side,
The other gaed round the hill.

The nether party fired brisk,
Then turn'd and seem'd to rin;
And then they a' came frae the trench,75
And cry'd, "The day's our ain!"

The rest then ran into the trench,
And loosed their cannons a':
And thus, between his armies twa,
He made them fast to fa'.80

Now let us a' for Lesly pray,
And his brave company,
For they hae vanquish'd great Montrose,
Our cruel enemy.

[13]. A small stream that joins the Ettrick near Selkirk, on the south side of the river. S.

[16]. Various reading: "That we should take a dram." S.

[17]. A brook which falls into the Ettrick, from the north, a little above the Shaw burn. S.

[37]. Montrose's forces amounted to twelve or fifteen hundred foot, and about a thousand cavalry. Lesly had five or six thousand men, mostly horse.

[55]. It is a strange anachronism, to make this aged father state himself to have been at the battle of Solway Flow, which was fought a hundred years before Philiphaugh; and a still stranger, to mention that of Dunbar, which did not take place till five years after Montrose's defeat. S.

THE GALLANT GRAHAMS.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 187

In this lament for the melancholy fate of Montrose and his heroic companions, it was clearly the humble minstrel's aim to sketch the chief incidents in the great Marquis's career as the champion and the martyr of Royalty. The derangements and omissions which may be found in the verses as they now stand are but the natural effects of time. The ballad was first published in Scott's Minstrelsy, as obtained from tradition, with enlargements and corrections from an old printed copy (entitled The Gallant Grahams of Scotland) furnished by Ritson.

The summer following the rout at Philiphaugh, King Charles committed himself to the treacherous protection of the Presbyterians. They required of him that his faithful lieutenant should at once disband his forces and leave the country. During three years of exile, Montrose resided at various foreign courts, either quite inactive, or cultivating the friendship of the continental sovereigns, by whom he was overwhelmed with attentions and honors. The execution of the King drew from him a solemn oath "before God, angels, and men," that he would devote the rest of his life to the avenging the death of his master and reëstablishing his son on the throne. He received from Charles II. a renewal of his commission as Captain-General in Scotland, and while Charles was treating with the Commissioners of the Estates concerning his resto

ration (negotiations which Montrose regarded with no favor), set out for the Orkneys with a few hundred men, mostly Germans. His coming, even with this feeble band, struck a great terror into the Estates, and Lesly was ordered to march against him with four thousand men. Destitute of horse to bring him intelligence, Montrose was surprised at Corbiesdale, on the confines of Ross-shire, by a body of Covenanting cavalry under Colonel Strachan, which had been sent forward to check his progress. The whole of his little army was destroyed or made prisoners. Montrose escaped from the field after a desperate resistance, and finally gave himself up to Macleod of Assaint, who sold him to his enemies for four hundred bolls of meal!

"He was tried," says Scott, "for what was termed treason against the Estates of the Kingdom; and, despite the commission of Charles for his proceedings, he was condemned to die by a Parliament who acknowledged Charles to be their king, and whom, on that account only, Montrose acknowledged to be a Parliament."

(See Scott's Minstrelsy, Hume, ch. lx., and Napier's Montrose and the Covenanters.)

Now, fare thee well, sweet [Ennerdale]
Baith kith and countrie I bid adieu;
For I maun away, and I may not stay,
To some uncouth land which I never knew.

[To wear the blue I think it best],5
Of all the colours that I see;
And I'll wear it for the gallant Grahams,
That are banished from their countrie.

I have no gold, I have no land,
I have no pearl nor precious stane;10
But I wald sell my silken snood,
To see the gallant Grahams come hame.

In Wallace days, when they began,
[Sir John the Graham] did bear the gree
Through all the lands of Scotland wide:15
He was a lord of the south countrie.

And so was seen full many a time;
For the summer flowers did never spring,
But every Graham, in armour bright,
Would then appear before the king.20

They were all drest in armour sheen,
Upon the pleasant banks of Tay;

Before a king they might be seen,
These gallant Grahams in their array.

At the Goukhead our camp we set,25
Our leaguer down there for to lay;
And, in the bonny summer light,
We rode our white horse and our gray.

Our false commander sold our king
Unto his deadly enemie,30
Who was the traitor, Cromwell, then;
So I care not what they do with me.

They have betray'd our noble prince,
And banish'd him from his royal crown;
But the gallant Grahams have ta'en in hand35
For to command those traitors down.

In [Glen-Prosen] we rendezvous'd,
March'd to Glenshie by night and day,
And took the town of Aberdeen,
And met the Campbells in their array.40

Five thousand men, in armour strong,
Did meet the gallant Grahams that day
At Inverlochie, where war began,
And scarce two thousand men were they.

Gallant Montrose, that chieftain bold,45
Courageous in the best degree,
Did for the king fight well that day;
The Lord preserve his majestie!

[Nathaniel Gordon], stout and bold,
Did for King Charles [wear the blue];50
But the cavaliers they all were sold,
And brave [Harthill], a cavalier too.

And [Newton-Gordon], burd-alone,
And [Dalgatie], both stout and keen,
And gallant [Veitch] upon the field,55
A braver face was never seen.

Now, fare ye weel, Sweet Ennerdale!
Countrie and kin I quit ye free;
Cheer up your hearts, brave cavaliers,
For the Grahams are gone to High Germany.

Now brave Montrose he went to France,61
And to Germany, to gather fame;
And bold Aboyne is to the sea,
Young [Huntly] is his noble name.

Montrose again, that chieftain bold,65
Back unto Scotland fair he came,
For to redeem fair Scotland's land,
The pleasant, gallant, worthy Graham!

At the water of Carron he did begin,
And fought the battle to the end;70
Where there were kill'd, for our noble king,
[Two thousand of our Danish men].

[Gilbert Menzies], of high degree,
By whom the king's banner was borne;

For a brave cavalier was he,75
But now to glory he is gone.

Then woe to Strachan, and [Hacket] baith!
And, Leslie, ill death may thou die!
For ye have betray'd the gallant Grahams,
Who aye were true to majestie.80

And the Laird of Assaint has seized Montrose,
And had him into Edinburgh town;
And frae his body taken the head,
And quarter'd him upon a trone.

And [Huntly]'s gone the self-same way,85
And our noble king is also gone;
He suffer'd death for our nation,
Our mourning tears can ne'er be done.

But our brave young king is now come home,
King Charles the Second in degree;90
The Lord send peace into his time,
And God preserve his majestie!

[1]. A corruption of Endrickdale. The principal and most ancient possessions of the Montrose family lie along the water of Endrick, in Dumbartonshire. S.

[5]. About the time when Montrose first occupied Aberdeen (1639) the Covenanters began to wear a blue ribbon, first as a scarf, afterwards in bunches in their caps. Hence the phrase of a true blue Whig. The blue ribbon was one of "Montrose's whimsies," and seems to have been retained by his followers (see v. [50]) after he had left the Covenanters for the king.

[14]. The faithful friend and adherent of the immortal Wallace, slain at the battle of Falkirk. S.

[37]. Glen-Prosen is in Angus-shire. S.

[49]. Of the family of Gicht in Aberdeenshire. He was taken at Philiphaugh, and executed the 6th of January, 1646.

[52]. Leith, of Harthill, was a determined loyalist, and hated the Covenanters, by whom he had been severely treated. S.

[53]. Newton, for obvious reasons, was a common appellation of an estate, or barony, where a new edifice had been erected. Hence, for distinction's sake, it was anciently compounded with the name of the proprietor; as, Newton-Edmonstone, Newton-Don, Newton-Gordon, &c. Of Newtown, I only observe, that he was, like all his clan, a steady loyalist, and a follower of Montrose. S.

[54]. Sir Francis Hay, of Dalgatie, a steady cavalier, and a gentleman of great gallantry and accomplishments. He was a faithful follower of Montrose, and was taken prisoner with him at his last fatal battle. He was condemned to death with his illustrious general. S.

[55]. I presume this gentleman to have been David Veitch, brother to Veitch of Dawick, who, with many other of the Peebles-shire gentry, was taken at Philiphaugh. S.

[64]. James, Earl of Aboyne, who fled to France, and there died heart-broken. It is said his death was accelerated by the news of King Charles's execution. He became representative of the Gordon family (or Young Huntly, as the ballad expresses it) in consequence of the death of his elder brother, George, who fell in the battle of Alford. S.

[72]. Montrose's foreign auxiliaries, who, by the way, did not exceed 600 in all. S.

[73]. Gilbert Menzies, younger of Pitfoddells, carried the royal banner in Montrose's last battle. It bore the headless corpse of Charles I., with this motto, "Judge and revenge my cause, O Lord!" Menzies proved himself worthy of this noble trust, and, obstinately refusing quarter, died in defence of his charge. Montrose's Memoirs. S.

[77]. Sir Charles Hacket, an officer in the service of the Estates. S.

[85]. George Gordon, second Marquis of Huntly, one of the very few nobles in Scotland who had uniformly adhered to the King from the very beginning of the troubles, was beheaded by the sentence of the Parliament of Scotland (so calling themselves) upon the 22d March, 1649, one month and twenty-two days after the martyrdom of his master. S.

THE BATTLE OF LOUDON HILL.

Graham of Claverhouse and Balfour of Kinloch, commonly called Burly, the principal persons mentioned in this ballad, are characters well known to the readers of Old Mortality, in the earlier chapters of which the skirmish at Loudon Hill is described.

A few weeks after the memorable assassination of Archbishop Sharpe, Robert Hamilton, a fierce Cameronian, Burly, and a few others of the proscribed "Westlan' men" resolved to take up arms against the government. They began their demonstrations by entering the royal burgh of Rutherglen, on the 29th of May, 1679 (which, as the anniversary of the Restoration, was appointed by Parliament to be kept as a holyday) extinguishing the bonfires made in honor of the occasion, and burning at the cross certain acts in favor of Prelacy and for the suppression of Conventicles. After this exploit, and affixing to the cross a solemn protest against the obnoxious acts, they encamped at Loudon Hill, being by this time increased to the number of five or six hundred men. Claver

house was in garrison at Glasgow, and immediately marched against the insurgents, with about a hundred and fifty cavalry. Hamilton, the commander of the Whigs, had skilfully posted his men in a boggy strait with a broad ditch in front, and the dragoons in attempting to charge were thrown into utter disorder. At this critical moment they were vigorously attacked by the rebels and easily routed. Claverhouse barely escaped being taken prisoner, and lost some twenty of his troopers, among them his cornet, Robert Graham, whose fate is alluded to in the ballad. Burly, though not the captain, was a prominent leader in this action. See Scott's Minstrelsy, vol. ii. 206, et seq.

You'l marvel when I tell ye o'
Our noble Burly and his train,
When last he march'd up through the land,
Wi' sax-and-twenty Westland men.

Than they I ne'er o' braver heard,5
For they had a' baith wit and skill;
They proved right well, as I heard tell,
As they cam up o'er Loudon Hill.

Weel prosper a' the gospel lads,
That are into the west countrie,10
Aye wicked Claver'se to demean,
And aye an ill deid may he die!

For he's drawn up i' battle rank,
An' that baith soon an' hastilie;
But they wha live till simmer come,15
Some bludie days for this will see.

But up spak cruel Claver'se, then,
Wi' hastie wit, an' wicked skill;
"Gae fire on yon Westlan' men;
I think it is my sov'reign's will."20

But up bespake his Cornet, then,
"It's be wi' nae consent o' me!
I ken I'll ne'er come back again,
An' mony mae as weel as me.

"There is not ane of a' yon men,25
But wha is worthy other three;
There is na ane amang them a',
That in his cause will stap to die.

"An' as for Burly, him I knaw;
He's a man of honour, birth, and fame;30
Gie him a sword into his hand,
He'll fight thysell an' other ten."

But up spake wicked Claver'se, then,
I wat his heart it raise fu' hie!
And he has cried that a' might hear,35
"Man, ye hae sair deceived me.

"I never ken'd the like afore,
Na, never since I came frae hame,
That you sae cowardly here suld prove,
An' yet come of a noble Græme."40

But up bespake his Cornet then,
"Since that it is your honour's will,
Mysell shall be the foremost man
That shall gie fire on Loudon Hill.

"At your command I'll lead them on,45
But yet wi' nae consent o' me;
For weel I ken I'll ne'er return,
And mony mae as weel as me."

Then up he drew in battle rank;
I wat he had a bonny train!50
But the first time that bullets flew,
Aye he lost twenty o' his men.

Then back he came the way he gaed,
I wat right soon and suddenly!
He gave command amang his men,55
And sent them back, and bade them flee.

Then up came Burly, bauld an' stout,
Wi's little train o' Westland men,
Wha mair than either aince or twice

In Edinburgh confined had been.60

They hae been up to London sent,
An' yet they're a' come safely down;
Sax troop o' horsemen they hae beat,
And chased them into Glasgow town.

THE BATTLE OE BOTHWELL BRIDGE.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 237.

The success of the Cameronians at Loudon Hill induced a considerable number of the moderate Presbyterians to join the army of the insurgents. But though increased numbers gave the revolt a more formidable appearance, they cannot be said to have added much to the strength of the rebels, since there was no concert between the two factions, each having its own set of officers, and issuing contrary orders at the same time. An army of ten thousand men under the Duke of Monmouth advanced from Edinburgh against these distracted allies, who, in all not more than four thousand, were encamped near Hamilton, on the western side of the Clyde, and had possession of the bridge between that point and the village of Bothwell. While the Duke was preparing to force a passage, the more moderate of the Whigs offered terms, and while they were debating the Duke's reply, the Cameronians, who bravely defended the bridge, were compelled to abandon their

post. The Duke's army then crossed the river without opposition, because the rebels were at that juncture occupied with cashiering their officers and electing new ones. The first discharge of Monmouth's cannon caused the cavalry of the Covenanters to wheel about, and their flight threw the foot into irrecoverable disorder. Four hundred of the rebels were killed, and a body of twelve hundred surrendered at discretion, and were preserved from death by the clemency of the Duke. This action took place on the 22d of June, 1679.

Scott informs us that there were two Gordons of Earlstoun engaged in the rebellion, a father and son. The former was not in the battle, but was met hastening to it by English dragoons, and was killed on his refusing to surrender. The son, who is supposed to be the person mentioned in the ballad, was of the milder Presbyterians, and fought only for freedom of conscience and relief from the tyrannical laws against non-conformists. He escaped from the battle, and after being several times condemned to die, was finally set at liberty, and restored to his forfeited estates.

In this ballad Claverhouse's unsparing pursuit of the fugitives is imputed to a desire to revenge the death of his kinsman at Loudon Hill, and his anger at being thwarted is, with great simplicity, asserted to have led to the execution of Monmouth.

Scott's copy of this ballad was given from recitation. In the First Series of Laing's Fugitive Scottish Poetry, there is an amusingly prosaic Covenanting ditty upon this subject, called Bothwell Lines, and in the Second Series, a Cavalier song, entitled The Battell of Bodwell Bridge, or The Kings Cavileers Triumph.

"O, billie, billie, bonny billie,
Will ye go to the wood wi' me?
We'll ca' our horse hame masterless,
An' gar them trow slain men are we."

"O no, O no!" says Earlstoun,5
"For that's the thing that mauna be;
For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,
Where I maun either gae or die."

So Earlstoun rose in the morning,
An' mounted by the break o' day;10
An' he has joined our Scottish lads,
As they were marching out the way.

"Now, farewell, father, and farewell, mother,
And fare ye weel, my sisters three;
An' fare ye weel, my Earlstoun,15
For thee again I'll never see!"

So they're awa' to Bothwell Hill,
An' waly they rode bonnily!
When the Duke o' Monmouth saw them comin',
He went to view their company.20

"Ye're welcome, lads," the Monmouth said,
"Ye're welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;
And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,
The foremost o' your company!

"But yield your weapons ane an a',25
O yield your weapons, lads, to me;
For gin ye'll yield your weapons up,
Ye'se a' gae hame to your country."

Out then spak a Lennox lad,
And waly but he spoke bonnily!30
"I winna yield my weapons up,
To you nor nae man that I see."

Then he set up the flag o' red,
A' set about wi' bonny blue;
"Since ye'll no cease, and be at peace,35
See that ye stand by ither true."

They stell'd their cannons on the height,
And showr'd their shot down in the howe;
An' beat our Scots lads even down,
Thick they lay slain on every knowe.40

As e'er you saw the rain down fa',
Or yet the arrow frae the bow,—
Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,
An' they lay slain on every knowe.

"O hold your hand," then Monmouth cry'd,45
"Gie quarters to yon men for me!"
But wicked Claver'se swore an oath,
His Cornet's death revenged sud be.

"O hold your hand," then Monmouth cry'd,
"If onything you'll do for me;50
Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,
Else a rebel to our king ye'll be."

Then wicked Claver'se turn'd about,
I wot an angry man was he;
And he has lifted up his hat,55
And cry'd, "God bless his Majesty!"

Than he's awa' to London town,
Aye e'en as fast as he can dree;
Fause witnesses he has wi' him ta'en,
And ta'en Monmouth's head frae his body.60

Alang the brae, beyond the brig,
Mony brave man lies cauld and still;
But lang we'll mind, and sair we'll rue,
The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

THE BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE.

This battle was fought on the evening of the 27th of July, 1689, a little to the north of the pass of Killiecrankie, in the Highlands of Perthshire, between King William's army under General Mackay, and a body of Highlanders under the renowned Claverhouse,

the bravest and most faithful adherent of the house of Stuart. Mackay's troops, which were partly Dutch and partly English, amounted to 4,500 foot and two companies of horse. The Highlanders were not much more than half as numerous. They consisted of the followers of Maclean, Macdonald of Sky, Clanronald, Sir Evan Cameron of Lochiel, and others, with a few Irish. The left wing of Mackay's army was almost instantly routed by a furious charge of the Macleans. The right wing stood their ground manfully, and even repulsed the assault of the Macdonalds, but being taken in flank by the Camerons and a part of the Macleans, they were forced to retire and suffered great loss. While directing the oblique movement of the Camerons, Claverhouse received a mortal wound under the arm, and with him fell the cause of King James.

This ballad, which is taken from Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 163, was printed as a broadside near the time of the battle. The author is unknown. There was an old song called Killiecrankie, which, with some alterations, was inserted in Johnson's Museum (p. 302). It is also found in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, i. 32, with an additional stanza. A contemporary Latin ballad on the same event by Herbert Kennedy, a professor in the University of Edinburgh, is given in the Museum, and may be seen [in our Appendix].