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University of California Berkeley 

From the book collection of 

bequeathed by him 
or donated by his wife 

Mildred S. Bronson 








Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of tha 
District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 





BOOK VII. (Continued.) 


4 a. The Battle of Otterbourne [Percy] 3 

4 b. The Battle of Otterbourne [Scott] 19 

5 a. The Hunting of the Cheviot 25 

6 b. Chevy-Chace 43 

6. Sir Andrew Barton 65 

7. Flodden Field 7t 

8 a. Queen Jeanie 74 

8 b. The Death of Queen Jane 77 

9. The Murder of the King of Scots 78 

10. The Kising in the North 82 

11. Northumberland betrayed by Douglas 92 

12. King of Scots and Andrew Browne 103 

13. Mary Ambree 108 

14. Brave Lord Willoughbey 114 

15 a. The Bonny Earl of Murray [Eamsay] 119 

15 b. The Bonnie Earl of Murray [Finlay] 121 

16. The Winning of Cales 123 

17. Sir John Suckling's Campaign 128 

18. The Battle of Philiphaugh 131 

19. The Gallant Grahams 137 

20. The Battle of Loudon Hill 144 

21. The Battle of Bothwell Bridge 148 

22. The Battle of Killiecrankie 152 

23. The Battle of Sheriff-Muir 156 

24. Lord Derwentwater 164 

25. The Battle of Tranent-Muir. or of Preston-Pans.. 167 



The Battle of Otterburn 177 

- The Battle of Harlaw 180 

- King Henrie the Fifth's Conquest 190 

- Jane Shore 194 

- Sir Andrew Barton 201 

- The Battle of Corichie -. 210 

- The Battle of Balrinnes (or Glenlivet) 214 

- Bonny John Seton 230 

- The Haws of Cromdale 234 

~ The Battle of Alford 238 

- The Battle of Pentland Hills 240 

- The Reading Skirmish ,. 243 

- Undaunted Londonderry 247 

Proelium Gillicrankianum 251 

- The Boyne Water 253 

- The Woman Warrior 257 

The Battle of Sheriff-Muir 260 

Up and war them a', Willie 264 

- The Marquis of Huntley's Retreat 267 

- Johnie Cope 274 

- King Leu: and his three Daughters 276 

- Fair Rosamond 283 

-, Queen Eleanor's Fall 292 

" The Duchess of Suffolk's Calamity 299 

The Life and Death of Thomas Stukely 306 

* Lord Delaware 314 

The Battle of Harlaw (Traditional version) 317 

GLOSSARY. .. .... 321 





IN the twelfth year of Richard II. (1388,) the Scots 
assembled an extensive army, with the intention of 
invading England on a grand scale, in revenge for a 
previous incursion made by that sovereign. But in 
formation having been received that the Northum 
brians were gathering in considerable force for a 
counter-invasion, it was thought prudent not to at 
tempt to carry out the original enterprise. While, 
therefore, the main body of the army, commanded by 
the Earl of Fife, the Scottish king's second son, ravaged 
the western borders of England, a detachment of three 
or four thousand chosen men, under the Earl of 
Douglas, penetrated by a swift march into the Bishop 
ric of Durham, and laid waste the country with fire 
and sword. Returning in triumph from this inroad, 
Douglas passed insultingly before the gates of New 
castle, where Sir Harry Percy lay in garrison. This 
fiery 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 re 
taken by the owner. Hotspur was deterred from 


accepting this challenge immediately, by the appre 
hension that Douglas would be able to effect a union 
with the main body of the Scottish army before he 
could be overtaken, but when he learned, the second 
day, that the Earl was retreating with ostentatious 
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 Hot 
spur and his brother, Sir Ralph Percy, came up with 
the Scots at Otterbourne, a small village about thirty 
miles from Newcastle, on the evening of the 15th of 
August. Their numbers were more than double the 
Scots, but they were fatigued with a long march. 
Percy fell at once on the camp of Douglas, and a des 
perate action ensued. The victory seemed to be in 
clining to the English, when the Scottish leader, as the 
last means of reanimating his followers, rushed on the 
advancing enemy with heroic daring, and cleared a 
way with his battle-axe into the middle of their ranks. 
All but alone and unsupported, Douglas was over 
powered by numbers, and sunk beneath three mortal 
wounds. The Scots, encouraged by the furious charge 
of their chieftain, and ignorant of his fate, renewed the 
struggle with vigor. Ralph Percy was made prisoner 
by the Earl Mareschal, and soon after Hotspur him 
self by Lord Montgomery. Many other Englishmen 
of rank had the same fate. After a long fight, main 
tained 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 col 
lection, had been used. Hume of Godscroft, speaking 
of the songs made on the battle of Otterbourne, says, 
"the Scots song made of Otterbourne telleth the 
time about Lammas ; and also the occasion to take 
preys out of England ; also the dividing armies be 
twixt the Earls of Fife and Douglas, and their several 
journeys, almost as in the authentic history," and pro 
ceeds to quote the first stanza of the present ballad. 
Again, it is said that at Lammas, when the Scotch 
husbandmen are busy at getting in their hay, the 
season has been over for a month in most parts of 
England. From these circumstances, and the occur 
rence of certain Scottish words, the first part of The 
Battle of Otterbourne has been regarded as a Scottish 
composition, retouched by an English hand. 

A somewhat mutilated version of this ballad was 
published in Herd's Scottish Songs. This, though de 
fective, well deserves a place in our Appendix. Sir 
Walter Scott inserted in the Minstrelsy another edi 
tion made up by him from two copies obtained from 
the recitation of old persons residing in Ettrick Forest, 
and it is here subjoined to Percy's version. 

Genealogical notices of the personages mentioned 
in this and the following ballad will be found in 
Percy's Reliques and in Scott's Minstrelsy. 

YT felle abowght the Lamasse tyde, 

Whan husbonds wynn ther haye, 
The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to ryde, 

In Ynglond to take a praye. 


The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe, 
He bowynd hym over Sulway : 

The grete wolde ever together ryde ; 
That race they may rue for aye. 

Over Ottercap hyll they came in, 
And so dowyn by Rodelyffe cragge, 

Upon Grene Leyton they lyghted dowyn, 
Styrande many a stagge ; 

And boldely brent Northomberlonde, 

And haryed many a towyn ; 
They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange, 

To battell that were not bowyn. 

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 hi Northum 
berland. Ottercap-hill is in the parish of Kirk-Whelpington, 
in Tynedale-ward. Rodeliffe- (or, as it is more usually pro 
nounced, Rodeley-) Cragge is a noted cliff near Rodeley, a 
small village hi 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 Scot 
land 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 


Than spake a berne upon the bent, 

Of comforte that was not colde, 
And sayd, " We have brent Northomberlond, 

We have all welth hi holde. 

" 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, 
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 ; 
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, 
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." 


Sir Harry Percy cam to the walles, 

The Skottyssh oste for to se ; 
"And thow hast brente Northomberlond, 

Full sore it rewyth me. 

" Yf thou hast haryed all Bambarowe shyre, 

Thow hast done me grete envye ; 
For the trespasse thow hast me done, 

The tone of us schall dye," 

" Where schall I byde the ? " sayd the Dowglas, 
" Or where wylte thow come to me ? " so 

" 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, 

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. eo 

" Ther schall I byde the," sayd the Dowglas, 

" By the fayth of my bodye : " 
{t 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 ; n> 

He tooke his logeyng at Oterborne 
Uppon a Wedynsday. 

And there he pyght hys standerd dowyn, 

Hys gettyng more and lesse, 
And syne he warned hys men to goo re 

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. so 

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, es 

" For thow maiste waken wyth wynne ; 

Yender have I spyed the prowde Percy, 
And seven standardes wyth hym." 

77. the best bent, MS. 


" 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 erne, 

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, ios 
On the other hand he schall be ; 

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 com 
posed before 1449. In that year the title of Earl of Huntly 
was first conferred on Alexander Seaton, who married the 
grand-daughter of the Gordon of Otterbourne. 

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


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 ! " 


THE Perssy came byfore hys oste, 
Wych was ever a gentyll knyght ; 

Upon the Dowglas lowde can he crye, 
" I wyll holde that I have hyght. 

" For thow haste brente Northumberlonde, 

And done me grete envye ; 
For thys trespasse thou hast me done, 

The tone of us schall dye." 

The Dowglas answerde hym agayne 

With grete wurds up on hye, 
And sayd, " I have twenty agaynst the one, 

Byholde, and thow maiste see." 

Wyth that the Percye was grevyd sore, 
For sothe as I yow saye ; 


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. 

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 ; ac 

* Then ' letters fayre furth hath he tayne, 
And thus he sayd full ryght : 

" My lorde, your father he gretes yow well, 

Wyth many a noble knyght ; 
He desyres yow to byde s 

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, 

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, so 

He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght 
In hys londe another daye. 

" Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente, 

By Mary, that mykel maye, 
Then ever my manhod schulde be reprovyd " 

Wyth a Skotte another daye. 

" Wherefore schote, archars, for my sake, 

And let scharpe arowes flee ; 
Mynstrells, play up for your waryson, 

And well quyt it schall be. GO 

" 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, w 

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, ro 

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,? 
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. so 

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, us 

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 ; 

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 jow in thys stounde ; 
He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length, 

That he felle to the growynde. 

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


The swofde was scharpe, and sore can byte, 
I tell yow in sertayne ; uc 

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, us 

And many a dowghty man was slayne. 

Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye, 

But stymy 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, i 25 

Grysely groned uppon the growynd ; 

Syr Davy Scotte, Syr Walter Steward, 
Syr John of Agurstonne. 

Syr Charlies Morrey in that place, 

That never a fote wold flye ; iao 

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


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 Scotts i 

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 ! iso 

Seying ther was so few fryndes 

Agaynst so many a foo. 

143. Covelle, MS. 
VOL. VII. 2 


Then one the morne they mayd them beeres 

Of byrch, and haysell graye ; 
Many a wydowe with wepyng teyres 

Ther makes they fette awaye. 

Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne, 
Bytwene the nyghte and the day : 

Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyfe, 
And the Percy was lede awaye. 

Then was ther a Scottyshe prisoner tayne, 
Syr Hughe Mongomery was hys name ; 

For soth as I yow saye, 

He borowed the Percy home agayne. 

Now let us all for the Percy praye 

To Jesu most of myght, 
To bryng hys sowle to the blysse of heven, 

For he was a gentyll knyght. 

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. 



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 Graemes, 

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 

6. u Light " is the appropriated designation of the Lind 
says, 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. 


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, 

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." 

" If thou'rt the lord of this castle, 

Sae weel it pleases me ! 
For, ere I cross the Border fells, 

The tane of us shall die." 

He took a lang spear in his hand, 

Shod with the metal free, 
And for to meet the Douglas there, 

He rode right furiouslie. 

But O how pale his lady look'd, 

Frae aff the castle wa', 
When down before the Scottish spear 

She saw proud Percy fa'. 

" Had we twa been upon the green, 

And never an eye to see, 



I wad hae had you, flesh and fell ; as 

But your sword sail 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." *> 

" 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 ; so 

And if ye come not at three dayis end, 

A fause lord I'll ca' thee." 

" Thither will I come," proud Percy said, 

" By the might of Our Ladye ! " 
" There will I bide thee," said the Douglas, & 

" My troth I plight to thee." 

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


They lighted high on Otterbourne, 

Upon the bent sae brown ; 
They lighted high on Otterbourne, 

And threw their pallions down. 

And he that had a bonnie boy, 

Sent out his horse to grass ; 
And he that had not a bonnie boy, 

His ain servant he was. 

But up then spake a little page, 

Before the peep of dawn 
" waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, 

For Percy's hard at hand." 

" Ye lie, ye lie, ye liar loud ! 

Sae loud I hear ye lie : 
For Percy had not men yestreen 

To dight my men and me. 

" But I have dream'd a dreary dream, 

Beyond the Isle of Sky ; 
I saw a dead man win a fight, 

And I think that man was I." 

He belted on his guid braid sword, 

And to the field he ran ; 
But he forgot the helmet good, 

That should have kept his brain. 


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, sa 

That could so sharply wound, 
Has wounded Douglas on the brow, 

Till he fell to the ground. 

Then he call'd on his little foot-page, 

And said " Run speedilie, 

And fetch my ain dear sister's son, 

Sir Hugh Montgomery. 

" My nephew good," the Douglas said, 

" What recks the death of ane ! 
Last night I dream'd a dreary dream, M 

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, i f 

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, us 

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 

As soon as he knew it was Montgomery, 
He struck his sword's point in the gronde ; 

The Montgomery was a courteous knight, iss 

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 


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 com 
monly sung of the Hunting of Cheviot" says Hume 
of Godscroft truly, " seemeth indeed poetical, and a 

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


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, fre 
quently 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 inva 
sions of their respective domains, and sharp contests 
for the point of honour ; which would not always be 
recorded in history. Something of this kind, we may 
suppose, gave rise to the ancient ballad of the Hunting 
a' the Cheviat. Percy Earl of Northumberland had 
vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border, 
without condescending to ask leave from Earl Doug 
las, who was either lord of the soil, or lord warden of 
the Marches. Douglas would not fail to resent the 
insult, and endeavour to repel the intruders by force : 
this would naturally produce a sharp conflict between 
the two parties ; something of which, it is probable, 
did really happen, though not attended with the 
tragical circumstances recorded in the ballad : for 
these are evidently borrowed from the Battle of Otter- 


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

The ballad as here printed is of the same age as 
the preceding. It is extracted from Hearne's Preface 
to the History of Guilielmus Neubrigensis, p. Ixxxii. 
Hearne derived his copy from a manuscript in the 
Ashmolean collection at Oxford, and printed the 
text in long lines, which, according to custom, are 
now broken up into 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 Bib 
liographer, vol. iv. p. 97-105) was a minstrel by pro 
fession, 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 glar 
ing objection of the antiquity of the language has 

* The Editor of the Eeliques afterwards met with the fol 
lowing passage in Collins' s Peerage, which he thought might 
throw some light on the question of the origin of the 

" 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 [Ed 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." 


been met, first, by the supposition that the author be 
longed 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 in 
spection will show. Besides, Sheale's poetical abilities 
were manifestly of the lowest order, and although he 
styles himself " minstrel," we have no reason to think 
that he ever composed ballads. He speaks of his 
memory being at one time so decayed that he " could 
neither sing nor talk." Being a mere 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.* 

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 

* We regret that even Dr. Rimbault has hastily sanc 
tioned this ascription of Chevy- Chase to the "sely" min 
strel of Tamwortn. 


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


THE Perse owt off Northombarlande, 

And a vowe to God mayd he, 
That he wold hunte in the mountayns 

Off Chyviat within days thre, 
In the mauger of doughte Dogles, 

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 Perse owt of Banborowe cam, 

With him a myghtee meany ; 
With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and 

The wear chosen owt of shyars thre. 

This begane on a Monday at morn, u 

In Cheviat the hillys so he ; 
The chyld may rue that ys un-born, 

It was the mor pitte. 

The dryvars throrowe the woodes went, 

For to reas the dear ; 20 

Bomen byckarte uppone the bent 
With ther browd aras cleare. 

Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went, 

On every syde shear ; 
Grea-hondes thorowe the grevis glent, SB 

For to kyll thear dear. 

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

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 Island- 
shire, being the district so named from Holy-Island : Nore- 
hamshire, so called from the town and castle of Noreham (or 
Norham) : and Bamboroughshire, the ward or hundred belong 
ing to Bamborough-castle and town. PEKCY. 


Be that it drewe to the oware off none, 

A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay. ao 

The blevve a mort uppone the bent, 

The semblyd on sydis shear ; 
To the quyrry then the Perse went, 

To se the bryttlynge off the deare. 

He sayd, " It was the Duglas promys as 

This day to met me hear ; 
But I wyste he wold faylle, verament : " 

A great oth the Perse 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 myghtte meahy ; 

Both with spear, byll, and brande ; 

Yt was a myghti sight to se ; 
Hardyar men, both off hart nar hande, 

Wear not in Christiante. 

The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good, 

Withowte any feale ; 
The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde, 

Yth' bowndes of Tividale. so 

31. blwe a mot. 41. ath the. 

43. brylly. 


" 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 stede 

He rode att his men beforne ; 
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede ; 

A bolder barne was never born. 

" Tell me whos men ye ar," he says, 

" Or whos men that ye be : eo 

Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat 

In the spyt of me ? " 

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd, 

Yt was the good lord Perse : 
" We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar," he 
says, es 

" 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 69 

We have kyld, and cast to carry them a-way : ' 

" Be my troth," sayd the doughte Dogglas agayn, 
" Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day." 

62. boys. 71. agay. 


Then sayd the doughte Doglas 

Unto the lord Perse : 
" To kyll all thes giltles men, 75 

Alas, it wear great pitte ! 

"But, Perse, thowe art a lord of lande, 
I am a yerle callyd within my centre ; 

Let all our men uppone a parti stande, 

And do the battell off the and of me." so 

" Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne," sayd the lord 

" Whosoever ther-to says nay ; 
Be my troth, doughtte 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 

" To kyng Herry the fourth for sham. 

81. sayd the the. 
VOL. VII. 3 


" I wat youe byn great lordes twaw, 

I am a poor squyar of lande ; 
I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde, as 

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 ; ion 

And youe wyll here any mor a* the hountyng a' 
the Chyviat, 

Yet ys ther mor behynd. 


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. 

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. 

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. 


Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent, s 

A captayne good yenoughe, 
And that was sene verament, 

For he wrought horn both woo and wouche. 

The Dogglas pertyd his ost or thre, 

Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde, 10 

With suar spears off myghtte tre, 

The cum in on every syde : 

Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery 

Gave many a wounde full wyde ; 
Many a doughete the garde to dy, \& 

Which ganyde them no pryde. 

The Ynglyshe men let thear bowys be, 
And pulde owt brandes that wer bright ; 

It was a hevy syght to se 

Bryght swordes on basnites lyght. ao 

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 Perse met, x 

Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne ; 

17. boys. 18. briggt. 

22. done. 26. to, i. e. tow. 


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

Thes worthe freckys for to fyght, 

Ther-to the wear full fayne, ao 

Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente, 

As ever dyd heal or rayne. 

" Holde the, Perse," sayde the Doglas, 

" And i' feth I shall the brynge 
Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis 35 

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 Perse, 

" I tolde it the beforne, 
That I wolde never yeldyde be 

To no man of a woman born." 

With that ther cam an arrowe hastely, 45 

Forthe off a myghtte wane ; 
Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas 

In at the brest bane. 

32. ran. 83. helde. 36. Scottih. 

45. a narrows. 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. 


Throroue ly var and longs, bathe 

The sharp arrowe ys gane, so 

That never after in all his lyffe-days, 

He spayke mo wordes but ane : [may, 

That was, " Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye 

For my lyff-days ben gan." 

The Perse 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 

My landes for years thre, eo 

For a better man, of hart nare of hande, 

Was not in all the north contre." 

Off all that se a Skottishe knyght, 

Was callyd Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry ; 

He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght, as 
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 Perse. ro 

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


With a suar spear of a myghtte tre 

Clean thorow the body he the Perse her, 

A'the tothar syde that a man myght se 

A large cloth yard and mare : 
Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiante, 

Then that day slain wear ther. 

An archar off Northomberlonde 

Say slean was the lord Perse ; 
He bar a bende-bowe in his hand, 

Was made off trusti tre. 

An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang, 

To th' harde stele haylde he ; 
A dynt that was both sad and soar, 

He sat on Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry. 

The dynt yt was both sad and soar, 

That he on Monggonberry sete ; 
The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar, 

With his hart-blood the wear wete. 

Ther was never a freake wone foot wolde fle, 

But still in stour dyd stand, 
Heawyng on yche othar, whyll the myght dre, 

With many a balfull brande. 

87. sar. 88. of. 


This battell begane in Chyviat 9/5 

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 ; io 

Many hade no strenght for to stande, 

In Chyviat the hillys aboun. 

Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde 

Went away but fifti and thre ; 
Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde, ios 

But even five and fifti : 

But all wear slayne Cheviat within ; 

The hade no strenge to stand on hy ; 
The chylde may rue that ys unborne, 

It was the mor pitte. no 

Thear was slayne withe the lord Perse, 

Sir John of Agerstone, 
Sir Rogar, the hinde Hartly, 

Sir Wyllyam, the bolde Hearone. 

Sir Jorg, the worthe Lovele, us 

A knyght of great renowen, 
Sir Raff, the ryche Rugbe, 

With dyntes wear beaten dowene. 

99. a word has dropped out. 102. abou. 115. loule. 


For Wetharryngton my harte was wo, 

That ever he slayne shulde be ; isc 

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 worthe was, 125 

His sistars son was he : 

His Charls a Murre in that place, 

That never a foot wolde fle ; 
Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was, 

With the Doglas dyd he dey. is 

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, HO 

That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches, 

He lay slean Chyviot with-in. 

125. Lwdale, i. e. Liddel. 132. gay. 


His handdes dyd he weal and wryng, 

He sayd, "Alas, and woe ys me ! " 
Such an othar captayn Skotland within, MS 

He sayd, ye-feth shuld never be. 

Worde ys commyn to lovly London e, 

Till the fourth Hany our kyng, 
That lord Perse, leyff-tenante of the Merchis, 

He lay slayne Chyviat within. isj 

" God have merci on his soil," sayd kyng Harry, 

" Good lord, yf thy will it be ! 
I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde," he sayd, 

"As good as ever was he : 
But Perse, and I brook my lyffe, 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 Perse 

He dyde the battell of Hombyll-down : ieo 

Wher syx and thritte Skottishe knyghtes 

On a day wear beaten down : 
Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght, 

Over castill, towar, and town. 

149. cheyff. 

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


This was the Hontynge off the Cheviat ; its 

That tear begane this spurn : 
Old men that knowen the grownde well yenoughe, 

Call it the Battell of Otterburn. 

At Otterburn began this spume 

Uppon a Monnyn day : wo 

Ther was the dougghte Doglas slean, 

The Perse never went away. 

Ther was never a tym on the March-partes 
Sen the Doglas and the Perse met, 

But yt was marvele, and the rede blude ronne 
not, m 

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 ! iso 

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. 



THE text of this later ballad of Chevy- Chace la 
given as it appears in Old Ballads (1723), vol. i. p. 
Ill, 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 

The age of this version of the story is not known, 
but it is certainly not later, says Dr. Bimbault, than 
the reign of Charles the Second. Addison's papers in 
the Spectator (Nos. 70 and 74) evince so true a percep 
tion of the merits of this ballad, shorn as it is of the most 
striking beauties of the grand original, that we cannot 
but deeply regret his never having seen the ancient 
and genuine copy, which was published by Hearne 
only a few days after Addison died. Well might the 
Spectator dissent from the judgment of Sidney, if this 
were the rude and ill-apparelled song of a barbarous 

GOD prosper long our noble king, 

Our lives and safeties all ; 
A woful hunting once there did 

In Chevy-Chace befall. 

To drive the deer with hound and horn, c 

Erie 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, 

His pleasure in the Scottish woods 
Three summer's days to take ; 

The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chace 

To kill and bear away : 
The tidings to Earl Douglas came, 

In Scotland where he lay. 

Who sent Earl Piercy present word, 
He would prevent his sport ; 

The English earl not fearing this, 
Did to the woods resort, 

With fifteen hundred bow-men bold 
All chosen men of might, 

Who knew full well in time of need 
To aim their shafts aright. 

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, 
To chase the fallow deer ; 

On Monday they began to hunt, 
When day-light did appear. 

And long before high noon they had 
An hundred fat bucks slain ; 

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


The bow-men muster'd on the hills, 

Well able to endure ; 
Their backsides all, with special care, as 

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. *> 

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 ; o 

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

"All men of pleasant Tividale, 

Fast by the river Tweed : " 
" Then cease your sport," Erie Piercy said, c 

"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, 

" 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, 

Most like a baron bold, 
Rode foremost of the company, 

Whose armour shone like gold. 

" Show me/' he said, " whose men you be, 

That hunt so boldly here, 
That, without my consent, do chase 

And kill my fallow-deer." 

The man that first did answer make 

Was noble Piercy he ; 
Who said, " We list not to declare, 

Nor show whose men we be. 

" Yet we will spend our dearest blood, 

Thy chiefest hart to slay ; " 
Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, 

And thus in rage did say ; 

62. since. 0. B. 


" 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, 

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 told 96 

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, 

Fll fight with heart and hand." 


Our English archers bent their bows, ios 

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 gentleman us 

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. 

123. Percy has lions wood. 


" Yield thee, Lord Piercy," Douglas said ; 

" In faith I will thee bring, iso 

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 knight i 

That ever I did see. 

u No, Douglas," quoth Earl Piercy then, 

" Thy proffer I do scorn ; 
I will not yield to any Scot 

That ever yet was born." no 

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, i 

" 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 ! 

137. To. 
VOL. VII. 4 


" O Christ ! my very heart doth bleed 

With sorrow for thy sake ; 
For sure, a more renowned knight IK 

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. ieo 

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call'd, 

Who, with a spear most bright, 
Well-mounted on a gallant steed, 

Kan fiercely thro' the fight ; 

And pass'd the English archers all, m 

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, iro 

The spear ran through the other side 
A large cloth-yard, and more. 

So thus did both these nobles dye, 
Whose courage none could stain ; 

An English archer then perceiv'd m 

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. iso 

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery 

So right his shaft he set, 
The grey goose-wing that was thereon 

In his heart's blood was wet. 

This fight did last from break of day m 

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. 

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. 


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. 

198. " I, as one in deep concern, must lament." The con 
struction here has generally been misunderstood. P. 

This phrase may help us to determine the date of the 
authorship of the ballad. "Doleful dumps" suggested 
nothing ludicrous to a writer of the age of Elizabeth, but not 
long after became burlesque. The observation is Percy's. 


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 Northumberland 235 

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. 2*0 

220. They. 0. B. 


" 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, 

After, on Humbledown ; 
In one day, fifty knights were slain, 

With lords of great renown. 

And of the rest, of small account, 

Did many thousands dye : 
Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chace, 

Made by the Earl Piercy. 

God save the king, and bless the land 

In plenty, joy, and peace ; 
And grant henceforth, that foul debate 

'Twixt noblemen may cease ! 



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 ex 
tremely probable, that the court of Scotland granted 
these letters with no very honest intention. The 
council-board of England, at which the Earl of Surrey 
held the chief place, was daily pestered with complaints 
from the sailors and merchants, that Barton, who was 
called Sir Andrew Barton, under pretence of search 
ing for Portuguese goods, interrupted the English 
navigation. Henry's situation at that time rendered 
him backward from breaking with Scotland, so that 
their complaints were but coldly received. The Earl 
of Surrey, however, could not smother his indignation, 
but gallantly declared at the council-board, that while 
he had an estate that could furnish out a ship, or a 
son that was capable of commanding one, the narrow 
seas should not be infested. 

" Sir Andrew Barton, who commanded the two 
Scotch ships, had the reputation of being one of the 
ablest sea officers of his time. By his 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 recon 
ciled the Bishop to adopting the four lines with which 
the ballad now begins. 

The common, or black-letter copies, are somewhat 
abridged as well as modernized. One of these is 
given in the Appendix. 



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. 

" yee are welcome, rich merchants, 

Good saylors, welcome unto mee : " 10 

They swore by the rood, they were saylors good, 

But rich merchants they cold not bee. 
" To France nor Flanders dare we pass, 

Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare ; 
And all for a robber that lyes on the seas, is 

Who robbs us of our merchant ware." 

King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde, 
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of 

" 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 ; 

1-4. from the printed copy. 


" 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 ; so 
If it please your grace to give me leave, 

Myselfe will be the only man." 

" Thou art but yong," the kyng replyed, 

" Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare : " 
" Trust me, my liege, He make him quail, 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." <o 

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, *: 

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, 

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, 

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." < 

" If you," quoth hee, " have chosen mee 

Of a hundred bowemen to be the head, 
On your main-mast He hanged bee, 

If I miss twelvescore one penny bread." 

With pikes, and gunnes, and bowemen bold, & 

This noble Howard is gone to the sea ; 
With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare, 

Out at Thames mouth sayled he. 
And days he scant had sayled three, 

Upon the journey he tooke in hand, n 

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 ; 
54. from the printed copy. 


And she we me where thy dwelling is, n 

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." sa 

" Hast thou not heard, nowe, Henry e Hunt, 

As thou hast sayled by daye and by night, 
Of a Scottish robber on the seas ; 

Men call him Sir Andrew Barton, knight ? " 
Then ever he sighed, and sayd " Alas ! " & 

With a grieved mind, and well-away, 
" But over-well I knowe that wight ; 

I was his prisoner yesterday. 

" As I was sayling uppon the sea, 

A Burdeaux voyage for to fare, w 

To his hach-borde he clasped me, 

And robd me of all my merchant ware. 
And mickle debts, God wot, I owe, 

And every man will have his owne, 
And I am nowe to London bounde, & 

Of our gracious king to beg a boone." 

" That shall not need," Lord Howard sais ; 

" Lett me but once that robber see, 
For every penny tane thee froe 

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


It shall be doubled shillings three." 100 

u Nowe Gode forefend," the merchant said, 

" That you shold seek soe far amisse ! 
God keepe you out of that traitors hands ! 

Full litle ye wott what a man hee is. 

" Hee is brasse within, and steele without, " 

With beames on his topcastle stronge ; 
And eighteen pieces of ordinance 

He carries on each side along. 
And he hath a pinnace deerlye dight, 

St. Andrewes crosse, that is his guide ; uo 

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, us 

If once his beames they doe downe fall." 

" This is cold comfort," sais my lord, 

" To wellcome a stranger thus to the sea : 

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, simi 
lar in Use, though perhaps unlike in construction, to the 
heavy Dolphins made of lead or iron used by the ancient 
Greeks ; which they suspended from beams or yards fastened 
to the mast, and which they precipitately let fall on the 
enemies' ships, in order to sink them, by beating holes 
through the bottoms of their undecked triremes, or other 
wise damaging them. PERCY. 


Yet He 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, iao 

On each side of my shipp along, 

And I will lead you on the sea. 
A glasse He sett, that may be scene, 

Whether you sayle by day or night ; 
And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke, 

You shall meet with Sir Andrewe Barton, 
knight." 135 


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 bached 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 ; w 

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, M 

" 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 Portirigall 

Without my leave can passe this way." ao 

Then called he forth his stout pinnace ; 

" Fetch backe yond pedlars nowe to mee : 
I sweare by the masse, yon English churles 

Shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." 

With that the pinnace itt shott off; 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, 

13. i. e. did not salute. 


" Looke that thy word be true, thou said ; ao 
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 ehaine full nine yardes long, 

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. 

And when he saw his pinnace sunke, 

Lord, how his heart with rage did swell ! 
" Nowe cutt my ropes, itt is time to be gon ; 

He fetch yond pedlars backe mysell." 
When my lord sawe Sir Andrewe loose, 

Within his heart hee was full faine ; 
" Nowe spread your ancyents, strike up drummes, 

Sound all your trumpetts out amaine." 

" Fight on, my men," Sir Andrewe sais, 

" Weale, howsoever this geere will sway ; so 
Itt is my lord admirall of England, 

Is come to seeke mee on the sea." 
Simon had a sonne, who shott right well, 

That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare ; 
In att his decke he gave a shott, 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. eo 

" Nowe, out alas ! " Sir Andrewe cryed, 

" What may a man now thinke or say ? 
Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee, 

He was my prisoner yesterday. 

" Come hither to me, thou Gordon good, 

That aye wast readye att my call ; 
I will give thee three hundred pounds, 

If thou wilt let my beames downe fall." 
Lord Howard hee then calld in haste, 

" Horselye, see thou be true in stead ; ro 

For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang, 

If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread." 

Then Gordon swarved the maine-mast tree, 

He swarved it with might and maine ; 
But Horseley with a bearing arrowe, ? 

Stroke the Gordon through the braine ; 
And he fell unto the haches again, 

And sore his deadlye wounde did bleede : 
Then word went through Sir Andrews men, 

How that the Gordon hee was dead. so 

" Come hither to mee, James Hambilton, 

Thou art my only sisters sonne ; 
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall, 

VOL. VII. 5 


Six hundred nobles thou hast wonne." 
With that he swarved the main-mast tree, & 

He swarved it with nimble art ; 
But Horseley with a broad arrowe 

Pierced the Hambilton thorough the heart. 

Vnd downe he fell upon the deck, 

That with his blood did streame amaine : a> 
Then every Scott cryed, " Well-away ! 

Alas a comely e youth is slain e ! " 
All woe begone was Sir Andrew then, 

With griefe and rage his heart did swell ; 
" Go fetch me forth my armour of proofe, 

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 brother, could cope with thee." 

" Come hither, Horseley," sayes my lord, 103 

"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." 

84. pounds. MS. 


" He shoot my best," quoth Horseley then, 109 
t{ 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, iw 

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 ; 
He but lye downe and bleede a while, 

And then He 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 bio we." 

They never heard his whistle blow, 

Which made their hearts waxe sore adread : isc 
Then Horseley sayd, "Aboard, my lord, 

For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead." 

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


They boarded then his noble shipp, 

They boarded it with might and maine ; 

Eighteen score Scots alive they found, iss 

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." no 

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, us 

And backe he sayled ore the maine ; 
With mickle joy and triumphing 

Into Thames mouth he came againe. 
Lord Howard then a letter wrote, 

And sealed it with scale and ring ; iso 

" 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." 

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. Be- 


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 ? " ieo 

" 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 ship i&s 

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, i?o 

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 Erie Surrye hight, i 

As Howards erst have beene before. 

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

fore this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no 
other expedient than hiring or pressing ships from the mer 

175-6. . . . Erie of Nottingham, And soe was never, &c. 


And the men shall have five hundred markes 
For the good service they have done." iso 

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, iss 

And eyes soe hollow in his head, 
" I wold give," quoth the king, " a thousand 

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.'* 



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 sove 
reign being left dead upon the field. 

" The following ballad may possibly be as ancient 
as any thing we have on the subject. It is given from 
The most pleasant and delectible history of John Winch- 
comb, 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 De 
loney, but derived by him from tradition. 

There is a piece called Flodden Field in Herd's Scot 
tish 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 frag 
ment of the original ballad. 

" I ride single on my saddle, 

For the flowers of the forest are a' wede away." 

Minstrelsy, iii. 333. 

KING JAMIE hath made a vow, 

Keep it well if he may ! 
That he will be at lovely London 

Upon Saint James his day. 

" Upon Saint James his day at noon, 

At fair London will I be, 
And all the lords in merry Scotland, 

They shall dine there with me." 

Then bespake good Queen Margaret, 

The tears fell from her eye : M 

" 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, v> 

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." 

With that bespake Lord Thomas Howard, 
The Queens chamberlain that day ; 

" If that you put Queen Margaret to death, 
Scotland shall rue it alway." 

Then in a rage King Jamie did say, & 

"Away with this foolish mome ! 
He shall be hang'd, and the other burn'd, 

So soon as I come home." 

At Flodden-field the Scots came in, 

Which made our Englishmen fain ; ao 

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. 


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, *s 

His boastings were all in vain ; 
He had such a chance with [a] new morrice- 

He never went home again. 


JANE SEYMOUR, queen of Henry VIII., died shortly 
after giving birth to Prince Edward (Oct. 1537). 
There was a report that the Caesarian 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. 

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


QUEEN JEANIE, Queen Jeanie, travel'd six weeks 

and more, 

Till women and midwives had quite gi'en her o'er ; 
" O if ye were women as women should be, 
Ye would send for a doctor, a doctor to me ! " 

The doctor was called for and set by her bed 
side, 5 

" What aileth thee, my ladie, thine eyes ,seem so 

" 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 

King Henry was called for, and sat by her bed 
side, 15 

" What aileth thee, Jeanie, what aileth my bride ? " 

" King Henry, King Henry, will ye do this for 

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 


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 ; so 

O black were their mufflers, and black were their 

And black were the cheverons they drew on their 


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 




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 


"0 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 

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 

Then her right side was opened, and the babe 

was set free. 

The babe it was christened, and put out and 

While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the 




So black was the mourning, and white were the 

wands, ^ 

Yellow, yellow the torches they bore in their 

hands ; 
The bells they were muffled, and mournful did 

While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the 


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 



Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, ii. 210. 

" THE catastrophe of Henry Stewart, Lord Darn- 
ley, the uniortunate husband of Mary Queen of Scots, 
is the subject of this ballad. It is here related in that 
partial imperfect manner, in which such an event 
would naturally strike the subjects of another king 
dom, of which he was a native. Henry appears to 
have been a vain, capricious, worthless young 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 

"Darnley, who had been born and educated in 
England, was but in his 21st year when he was mur 
dered, Feb. 9, 1567-8. This crime was perpetrated 
by the Earl of Both well, not out of respect to the 
memory of Kiccio, 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. 

WOE worth, woe worth thee, false Scotlande ! 

For thou hast ever wrought by sleight ; 
The worthyest prince that ever was borne. 

You hanged under a cloud by night. 

The Queene of France a letter wrote, 
And sealed itt with harte and 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 {[RizzioJ was his name, is 

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, ^ 

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 night ft 

This worthye king for to betray. 

To bedd the king he made him bowne ; 

To take his rest was his desire ; 
He was noe sooner cast on sleepe, 

But his chamber was on a biasing fire. 40 

Up he lope, and the window brake, 

And hee had thirtye foote to fall ; 
Lord Bod well kept a privy watch, 

Underneath his castle wall. 

" Who have wee here ? " Lord Bodwell sayd ; 
" Now answer me, that I may know." 

" King Henry the eighth my uncle was ; 
For his sweete sake some pitty show." 

< Who have we here ? " Lord Bodwell sayd ; 

" Now answer me when I doe speake." so 

" Ah, Lord Bodwell, I know thee well ; 

Some pitty on me I pray thee take." 

*' He pitty thee as much," he sayd, 

" And as much favor show to thee, 
As thou didst to the queenes chamberlaine, & 

That day thou deemedst him to die." 

VOL. VII. 6 


Through halls and towers the king they ledd, 
Through towers and castles that were nye, 

Through an arbor into an orchard, 

There on a peare-tree hanged him hye. 

When the governor of Scotland heard 
How that the worthye king was slaine, 

He persued the queen so bitterlye, 

That in Scotland shee dare not remaine. 

But shee is fledd into merry England, 
And here her residence hath taine, 

And through the Queene of Englands grace, 
In England now shee doth remaine. 


Percy's Reliques, i. 285. 

THE subject of this ballad is the insurrection of the 
Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, in the 
twelfth year of Queen Elizabeth, 1569. 

These two noblemen were the leaders of the Cath 
olic party in the North of England, and interested 
themselves 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 com 
bination powerful enough to extort her consent, but 
the Queen received information betimes, and commit 
ted the Duke to the Tower. Several of his abettors 
were also taken into custody, and the two Northern 
Earls were summoned to appear at court, to answer 
to the charge of an intended rebellion. They had 
proceeded too far to trust themselves willingly in the 
hands of their enraged sovereign, and the summons 
precipitated them into an insurrection for which they 
were not prepared. They hastily gathered their 
followers, and published a manifesto, in which they 
declared that they maintained an unshaken allegiance 
to the Queen, and sought only to reestablish 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." 

The insurgents' army amounted to about six thou 
sand men. The Earl of Sussex, supported by Lord 
Hunsdon and others, marched against them with 
seven thousand, and the Earl of Warwick with still 
greater forces. Before these superior numbers the 
rebels dispersed without striking a blow. Northum 
berland fled to the Scots, by whom, as we shall see 
in the next ballad, he was betrayed to Elizabeth. 
The Earl of Westmoreland escaped to Flanders, and 
died there in penury. 

Another outbreak following close upon the above 
was suppressed by Lord 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 

LISTEN, lively lordlings all, 

Lithe and listen unto mee, 
And I will sing of a noble earle, 

The noblest earle in the north countrie. 


Earle Percy is into his garden gone, s 

And after him walkes his faire ladie : 

" I heard a bird sing in mine eare, 
That I must either fight or flee." 

" Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord, 

That ever such harm should hap to thee ; 10 

But goe to London to the court, 
And faire fall truth and honestle." 

" Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay, 

Alas ! thy counsell suits not mee ; 
Mine enemies prevail so fast, is 

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, -x 

"And I myselfe will ride wi' thee : 
At court then for my dearest lord, 

His faithfull borrowe I will bee." 


Now nay, now nay, rny lady deare ; 
Far lever had I lose my life, 
Than leave among my cruell foes 
My love in jeopardy and strife. 

" But come thou hither, my little foot-page, 

Come thou hither unto mee ; 
To maister Norton thou must goe 

In all the haste that ever may bee. 

" Commend me to that gentleman, 
And beare this letter here fro mee ; 

And say that earnestly I praye, 
He will ryde in my companie." 

One while the little foot-page went, 

And another while he ran ; 
Untill he came to his journeys end 

The little foot-page never blan. 

When to that gentleman he came, 
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, 

I-wis, if you the truthe wold know, 
There was many a weepy nge 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 ? " 

' " Father, my counselled fair and free ; 

That erle he is a noble lord, 
And whatsoever to him you hight, 

I wold not have you breake your word." eo 

" 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, es 

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." 

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. 


" Gramercy now, my children deare, 

You showe yourselves right bold and brave ; 

And whethersoe'er I live or dye, 
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." 

" Father, you are an aged man ; 

Your head is white, your bearde is gray ; 
It were a shame at these your yeares 

For you to ryse in such a fray." 

" Now fye upon thee, coward Francis, 
Thou never learnedst this of mee ; 

When thou wert yong and tender of age, 
Why did I make soe much of thee ? " 

" But, father, I will wend with you, 

Unarm'd and naked will I bee ; 
And he that strikes against the crowne, 

Ever an ill death may he dee." 

Then rose that reverend gentleman, 
And with him came a goodlye band, 

To join with the brave Erie Percy, 
And all the flower o' Northumberland. 


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 : 

102. The supporters of the Nevilles Earls of Westmore 
land were two bulls argent, ducally collar' d gold, armed or, 
&c. But I have not discovered the device mentioned in 
the ballad, among the badges, &c., given by that house. 
This however is certain, that, among those of the Nevilles, 
Lord Abergavenny (who were of the same family), is a dun 
cow with a golden collar; and the Nevilles of Chyte in 
Yorkshire (of the Westmoreland branch), gave for their 
crest, in 1513, a dog's (greyhound's) head erased. So that 
it is not improbable but Charles Neville, the unhappy Earl 
of Westmoreland here mentioned, might on this occasion 
give the above device on his banner. After all, our old min 
strel's verses here may have undergone some corruption; for, 
in another ballad in 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. 


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 ; no 

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, IM 

The earles have won them presentlie. 

The uttermost walles were lime and bricke, 
But thoughe they won them soon anone, 

Long e'er they wan the innermost walles, 

For they were cut in rocke of stone. ao 

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 ; iso 


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

Wi' them the false Erie Warwick went, 
Th' Erie Sussex and the Lord Hunsden ; 

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 Erie o' Northumberland, 

Now rayse thy half moone up on hye. no 

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 : wo 

And many a childe made fatherlesse, 

And widowed many a tender wife. 



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. Northum 
berland 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 sub 
ject. 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 ! 

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 ; 

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 men 
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 ! 

False Hector to Earl Murray sent, 

To shew him where his guest did hide, 

Who sent him to the Lough-leven, 
With William Douglas to abide. 

And when he to the Douglas came, 
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, 

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, 

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, 

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, so 

" If thou wilt ryde to the worldes end 
I will ryde in thy companye." 

And then bespake a lady faire, 

Mary a Douglas was her name ; 
" You shall byde here, good English lord, 65 

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." no 

59. Of the Earl of Morton, the Regent. P. 


" Now nay, now nay, thou goodly lady, 

The regent is a noble lord : 
Ne for the gold in all England 

The Douglas wold not break his word. 

" When the regent was a banisht man, & 

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 

And friends againe they wold never bee, fo 
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. #> 

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. 


a 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, & 

" When I thinke on my own countrle, 

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; 9 

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 friends 86 

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, 

He showe you all your foes in field." 

VOL. VII. 7 


" Lady, I never loved witchcraft, 05 

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 , lu 

Let me but speak three words with him, 
And he shall come again to thee." 

James Swynard with that lady went, 

She showed him through the weme of her ring 
How many English lords there were us 

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, madame, 125 

Betwixt yond English lords and mee ? " 

119. The Lord Warden of the East Marches. P. 
123. Governor of Berwick. P. 


" 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, iso 

But as my book it sheweth mee, 

And through my ring I may descrye. 

" My mother shee was a witch ladye, 
And of her skille she learned mee ; 

She wold let me see out of Lough-leven 135 

What they did in London citie." 

" But who is yond, thou lady faire, 

That looketh with sic an austerne face ? " 

" Yonder is Sir John Foster," quoth shee, 

" Alas ! he'll do ye sore disgrace." no 

He pulled his hatt downe over his browe ; 

He wept, in his heart he was full of woe ; 
And he is gone to his noble lord, 

Those sorrowful tidings him to show. 

" Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard, i 
I may not believe that witch ladie ; 

The Douglasses were ever true, 

And they can ne'er prove false to mee. 

139. Warden of the Middle-march. P. 


" I have now in Lough-leven been 
The most part of these years three, 

Yett have I never had noe outrake, 
Ne no good games that I cold see. 

" Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend, 
As to the Douglas I have hight : 

Betide me weale, betide me woe, 

He ne'er shall find my promise light." 

He writhe a gold ring from his finger, 
And gave itt to that gay ladle : 

Sayes, " It was all that I cold save, 
In Harley woods where I cold bee." 

"And wilt thou goe, thou noble lord? 

Then farewell truth and honestie, 
And farewell heart, and farewell hand, 

For never more I shall thee see." 

The wind was faire, the boatmen call'd, 
And all the saylors were on borde ; 

Then William Douglas took to his boat, 
And with him went that noble lord. 

Then he cast up a silver wand, 

Says, " Gentle lady, fare thee well ! " 

The lady fett a sigh soe deep, 

And in a dead swoone down shee fell. 


" Now let us goe back, Douglas," he sayd, 
" A sickness hath taken yond faire ladie ; 

If ought befall yond lady but good, ^s 

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 ladie." wo 

" If you'll not tume 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, iss 

" 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, iw 

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 Erie 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, aw 

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 good ais 

Before that ever I mett with thee. 

" A false Hector hath my horse, 

Who dealt with mee so treacherouslie ; 

A false Armstrong hath my spurres, 

And all the geere belongs to mee." 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 Torke was doomde to die, 225 

It was, alas ! a sorrowful sight ; 
Thus they betrayed that noble earle, 

Who ever was a gallant wight. 


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 

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


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 chamber laine, 
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 thing * 

It is to offend the anointed king! 
Alas for woe, why should it be so ? 
This makes a sorrowful heigh ho. 

; ' f M ';<> 
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. M 

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, so 

Having the posset in his hande : 
The sight of Browne made him aghast, 

Who bad him stoutly stale and stand. 
With him were two that ranne awa, 
For feare that Browne would make a fray. 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. 
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, 

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 : so 

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 ! ss 

" 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, so 

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 : es 

Alas for woe, &c. 

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

67. 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. 


My mother banished, extreame 

Unhappy fate, and bitter bayne ! ro 

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 ; w 

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, so 

Which made, &c. 

When all this treason done and past 

Tooke not effect of traytery, 
Another treason at the last, 

They sought against his majestic ; 86 

How they might make their kinge away 
By a privie banket on a daye. 
Alas for woe, &c. 

1 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 harine : 

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, ios 

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. no 

In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so, 
To avoide the sorrowful heigh ho. 


Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, ii. 280. 

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

101. Queeu Elizabeth. 


Hollanders, as Ghent (called then by the English 
Gaunt), Antwerp, Mechlin, &c. See Stew'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 Epiccene, 
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 


(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 

Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt, 


They mustred their souldiers by two and by 

And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree. 

When [the] brave sergeant-major was slaine in 
her sight, 

Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight, 
Because he was slaine most treacherouslie, 
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 : io 
Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree ? 

Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in 


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 ; 

6. So P. C. Sir John Major in MS. 


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 



" 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, so 
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife, 
With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so 

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 : " ss 
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 ? *o 

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, # 
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 ; eo 

Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew 

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 


And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand, 
There daring their captaines to match any 

what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree ! eo 

" Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou 


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, s 
Whom thinke you before you now you doe 

"A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe 

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 : ro 

Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor eaptaine you 

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 

And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree. so 

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

VOL. VII. 8 


Then to her owne country shee backe did returne, 95 
Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne : 
Therfore English captaines of every degree 
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree. 


Percy's Religues, 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 

" The subject of this ballad (which is printed from 
an old black-letter copy, with some conjectural emen 
dations) 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 Suf 
folk, 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 vol 

THE fifteenth day of July, 

With glistering spear and shield, 
A famous fight in Flanders 

Was foughten in the field : 
The most couragious officers & 

Were English captains three ; 
But the bravest man in battel 

Was brave Lord Willoughbey. 

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, is 

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. 

You musquet and callver men, 
Do you prove true to me : 

I'le be the formost man in fight," 
Says brave Lord Willoughbey. 

And then the bloody enemy 

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, 
Yet nothing could the courage quell 

Of brave Lord Willoughbey. 

For seven hours, to all mens view, 

This fight endured sore, 
Until our men so feeble grew 

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. 

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. 


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 ; so 

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 behaviour 55 

Of brave Lord Willoughbey. 

Then quoth the Spanish general, 

" Come, let us march away ; 
I fear we shall be spoiled all 

If here we longer stay ; eo 

For yonder comes Lord Willoughbey, 

With courage fierce and fell ; 
He will not give one inch of way 

For aU the devils in hell." 

And then the fearful enemy 65 

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 ; ro 

" 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 told 

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." 

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 charges 

She quit and set them free : 
And this she did all for the sake 

Of brave Lord Willoughbey. 

Then courage, noble Englishmen, 

And never be dismaid ; 
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 bout 

Of brave Lord Willoughbey. 



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 sur 
rounded 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 1 Oth 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 ! 

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 ; 
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 Murray 

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 

lang will his lady 

Look o'er the castle Down, 
Ere she see the Earl of Murray 

Come sounding thro' the town. 


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, 

They let him come in ; 
But fause traitor Huntly, 

He did him great harm. 

He's ben and ben, 

And ben to his bed ; 
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, 

The flower o' Scotland." 

But Huntly lap on his horse, 

Rade to the king : 
" Ye're welcome hame, Huntly, 

And whare hae ye been ? 

" Whare hae ye been ? 

And how hae ye sped ? " 
" I've killed the Earl o' Murray, 

Dead in his bed." 

" Foul fa' you, Huntly ! 

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 ; 
My sister's a widow, 

And sair do I rue. 

" Her corn grows ripe, 

Her meadows grow green, 
But in bonny Dinnibristle 

I darena be seen." 



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 distin 
guished soldiers had commands in the expedition. 
The praise here bestowed on Essex's humanity was 
richly deserved, and the booty taken by the conquer 
ors is not exaggerated. The whole loss of the Span 
iards, 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 

Advanced to conquer us, 
Threatening our country 

With fire and sword ; 
Often preparing s 

Their navy most sumptuous, 
With all the provision 

That Spain could afford. 


Dub a-dub, dub, 

Thus strike the drums, 

Tan-ta-ra, ta-ra-ra, 

The Englishman comes. 

To the seas presently 

Went our lord admiral, 
With knights couragious, 

And captains full good ; 
The earl of Essex, 

A prosperous general, 
With him prepared 

To pass the salt flood. 
Dub a-dub, &c. 

At Plymouth speedily, 

Took they ships valiantly; 
Braver ships never 

Were seen under sail ; 
With their fair colours spread, 

And streamers o'er their head ; 
Now, bragging Spaniards, 

Take heed of your tail. 
Dub a-dub, &c. 

Unto Gales cunningly, 
Came we most happily, 

Where the kings navy 
Did secretly ride ; 

Being upon their backs, 
Piercing their buts of sack, 


Ere that the Spaniards 35 

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 ; 
hen beacons were fired, 45 

As need was required ; 
To hide their great treasure, 

They had little space : 
"Alas ! " they cryed, 

" English men comes." M 

There you might see the ships, 

How they were fired fast, 
And how the men drown'd 

Themselves in the sea ; 
There you may hear them cry, 

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, *> 


Was burnt to the bottom, 
And sunk in the sea ; 

But the Saint Andrew, 

And eke the Saint Matthew, 

We took in fight manfully, 
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 ; 
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, 

" Courage, my soldiers all ! 
Fight, and be valiant, 

And spoil you shall have ; 
And well rewarded all, 

From the great to the small ; 
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, as 

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 tnen, 

And of the richest men, 
For gold and treasure 

We searched each day ; 
In some places we did find 95 

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 no 

There many prisoners 

Of good account were took ; 
Many crav'd mercy, 

And mercy they found. 
Dub a-dub, &c. 

When as our general us 

Saw they delayed 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 


" 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 12,000/. The like expensive equip 
ment of other parts of the army made the king 
remark, that " the Scots would fight stoutly, if it were 
out 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 splen 
did troop of Sir John Suckling's." PERCY. 

This scoffing ballad, sometimes attributed to Suck 
ling himself, is taken from the Musarum Delicice 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 read 
ings. 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 fight 6 

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 

VOL. vn. 9 


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 ; u 

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, so 

15. For till he came there, what had he to fear; 

Or why should lie 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. 


But Sir John did swear, he came not there 
To be kilPd the very first man-a. 

To cure his fear, he was sent 1 to the rere, 

Some ten miles back, and more-a ; 
Where he did play at tre trip for hay, ss 

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 


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 sub 
jugation of the southern provinces, and even of lead 
ing his wild array into England to the support of King 
Charles. Having traversed the Border, and strength 
ened 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 Sel 
kirk, 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 encamp 
ment 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 Selkirk 
shire, and coincides closely with historical fact. 

ON Philiphaugh a fray began, 
At Hairhead-wood it ended ; 

The Scots out o'er the Graemes they ran, 
Sae merrily they bended. 


Sir David frae the Border came, s 

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 ! 1 

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 convenient ifi 

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." 

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. 


" 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 ; 

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 few 35 

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. w 

" 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 ? 

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


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' ; 

And so, between your armies twa, 
Ye may make them to fa'." 

" O were ye ever a soldier ? " 

Sir David Lesly said ; 
" yes ; I was at Solway Flow, & 

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." o 

" 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 ; 66 

Montrose has plunder'd me ; 

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 n6t 
take place till five years after Montrose's defeat. S. 


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

He halved his men in equal parts, 

His purpose to fulfill ; 
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, 
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'. 

Now let us a' for Lesly pray, 

And his brave company, 
For they hae vanquish'd great Montrose, 

Our cruel enemy. 



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 over 
whelmed 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 reestab 
lishing his son on the throne. He received from 
Charles H. a renewal of his commission as Captain-Gen 
eral 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 intel 
ligence, Montrose was surprised at Corbiesdale, on the 
confines of Ross-shire, by a body of Covenanting cav 
alry 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 

" He was tried," says Scott, " for what was termed 
treason against the Estates of the Kingdom; and, 
despite the commission of Charles for his proceed 
ings, 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 

(See SCOTT'S Minstrelsy, HUME, ch. lx., and NA 
PIER'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. 

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


To wear the blue I think it best, B 

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 ; "> 

But I wald sell my silken snood, 

To see the gallant Grahams come name. 

In Wallace days, when they began, 

Sir John the Graham did bear the gree 

Through all the lands of Scotland wide : ^ 
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 ; 

5. About the time when Montrose first occupied Aber 
deen (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. 


Before a king they might be seen, 

These gallant Grahams in their array. 

At the Goukhead our camp we set, 
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, 
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 hand 
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. 

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. 

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


Gallant Montrose, that chieftain bold, 

Courageous in the best degree, 
Did for the king fight well that day ; 

The Lord preserve his majestic I 

Nathaniel Gordon, stout and bold, 

Did for King Charles wear the blue ; so 

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, 

A braver face was never seen. 

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 appella 
tion 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 New- 
town, 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. 


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, 
And to Germany, to gather fame ; 

And bold Aboyne is to the sea, 
Young Huntly is his noble name. 

Montrose again, that chieftain bold, 
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 ; 

Where there were kilTd, for our noble king, 
Two thousand of our Danish men. 

Gilbert Menzies, of high degree, 

By whom the king's banner was borne ; 

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 repre 
sentative 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 


For a brave cavalier was he, 

But now to glory he is gone 

Then woe to Strachan, and Racket baith ! 

And, Leslie, ill death may thou die ! 
For ye have betray'd the gallant Grahams, 

Who aye were true to majestic. so 

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, as 

And our noble king is also gone ; 

He suffer'd death for our nation, 

Our mourning tears can ne'er be done. 

royal banner in Montrose's last battle. It bore the headless 
corpse of Charles I., with this motto, "Judge, and revenge my 
cause, 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. 


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 majestic ! 


GRAHAM of Claverhouse and Balfour of Kinloch, 
commonly called Burly, the principal persons men 
tioned 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 Came- 
ronian, 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 Resto 
ration, 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 Conven 
ticles. After this exploit, and affixing to the cross a 
solemn protest against the obnoxious acts, they en 
camped 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 Gra 
ham, 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, 
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, . 

Aye wicked Claver'se to demean, 
And aye an ill deid may he die ! 

VOL. VII. 10 


For he's drawn up i' battle rank, 
An' that baith soon an' hastilie ; 

But they wha live till simmer come, 
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." 

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, 
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 ; 
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, 
" 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 Graeme." 

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, & 

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 ! so 

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. eo 


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. 


From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 237. 

THE success of the Cameronians at London Hill 
induced a considerable number of the moderate Pres 
byterians 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 posses 
sion of the bridge between that point and the vil 
lage 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 de 
fended 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 oc 
cupied 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 dis 
order. 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 hasten 
ing to it by English dragoons, and was killed on his re 
fusing 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 con 
science 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, 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 ! 

" 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. 


" hold your hand," then Monmouth cry'd, 
" If onything you'll do for me ; s) 

Hold up your hand, you cursed Graeme, 
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, so 

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. 


THIS battle was fought on the evening of the 27th 
of July, 1689, a little to the north of the pass of Kil- 
liecrankie, 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 

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 Mu 
seum, and may be seen in our Appendix. 

CLAVERS and his Highlandmen 
Came down upo' the raw, man, 

Who being stout, gave mony a clout ; 
The lads began to claw then. 


With sword and terge into their hand, 
Wi which they were nae slaw, man, 

Wi mony a fearful heavy sigh, 
The lads began to claw then. 

O'er bush, o'er bank, o'er ditch, o'er stank, 

She flang amang them a', man ; 
The butter-box got mony knocks, 

Their riggings paid for a' then. 
They got their paiks, wi sudden straiks, 

Which to their grief they saw, man : 
Wi clinkum clankum o'er their crowns, 

The lads began to fa' then. 

Hur skipt about, hur leapt about, 

And flang amang them a', man ; 
The English blades got broken heads, 

Their crowns were cleav'd in twa then. 
The durk and door made their last hour, 

And prov'd their final fa', man ; 
They thought the devil had been there. 

That play'd them sic a paw then. 

17. The Highlanders have only one pronoun, and as it 
happens to resemble the English her, it has caused the Low- 
landers to have a general impression that they mistake the 
feminine for the masculine gender. It has even become a 
sort of nickname for them, as in the present case, and in a 
subsequent verse, (31,) where it is extended to her-nain-sell. 
CHAMBERS, Scottish Songs, p. 48. 


The Solemn League and Covenant . 25 

Came whigging up the hills, man ; 
Thought Highland trews durst not refuse 

For to subscribe their bills then. 
In Willie's name, they thought nae ane 

Durst stop their course at a', man, so 

But hur-nane-sell, wi mony a knock, 

Cry'd, " Furich-Whigs awa'," man. 

Sir Evan Du, and his men true, 

Came linking up the brink, man ; 
The Hogan Dutch they feared such, as 

They bred a horrid stink then. 
The true Maclean and his fierce men 

Came in amang them a' man ; 
Nane durst withstand his heavy hand, 

All fled and ran awa' then. 40 

Oh' on a ri, Oh' on a ri, 

Why should she lose King Shames, man ? 
Oh' rig in di. Oh' rig in di, 

She shall break a' her banes then ; 
With furichinish, an' stay a while, & 

And speak a word or twa, man, 
She's gi' a straike, out o'er the neck, 

Before ye win awa' then. 

O fy for shame, ye're three for ane, 

Hur-nane-sell's won the day, man ; so 

King Shames' red-coats should be hung up, 


Because they ran awa' then. 
Had bent their brows, like Highland trows, 

And made as lang a stay, man, 
They'd sav'd their king, that sacred thing, 

And Willie'd ran awa' then. 


FOUGHT on the 13th of November, 1715, between 
the Duke of Argyle, general of the forces of King 
George the First, and the Earl of Mar, for the Cheva 
lier de St. George. The right wing of both armies, 
led by the respective commanders, was successful, and 
the left wing of both was routed. Hence the victory 
was claimed by both sides. The Chevalier's army 
was much the larger of the two, and all the advan 
tages of the contest remained with the other party. 

This ballad is printed in Herd's Scottish Songs, 
i. 170, and in many subsequent collections. It is 
ascribed by Burns to the " Rev. Murdoch M'Lellan, 
minister of Crathie, Dee-side." Our copy is taken 
from Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 1, where the stanzas 
in brackets appear for the first time. The notes are 
from Chambers's Scottish Songs, p. 408. 

There are several other ballads upon this battle : 
Up and war them a', Willie, Johnson's Museum, p. 195, 
and (different) Herd's Scottish Songs, ii. 234 : From 
Bogie Side, or, The Marquis's Raide, a false and sctfr- 
rilous party song, Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 13: A 


Dialogue between Will Lick-Ladle and Tom Clean- 
Cogue, &c., written by the Rev. John Barclay of 
Edinburgh, many years after the event : and The Bat 
tle of Sherramoor, altered and abridged by Burns 
from this last, for Johnson's Museum, (p. 290.) See 

THERE'S some say that we wan, and some say 

that they wan, 

And some say that nane wan at a', man ; 
But one thing I'm sure, that at Sherra-muir 

A battle there was that I saw, man. 
And we ran, and they ran, and they ran, and we 
ran, & 

But Florence ran fastest of a\ man. 

Argyle and Belhaven, not frighted like Leven, 

Which Rothes and Haddington saw, man ; 
For they all, with Wightman, advanc'd on the 

right, man, 

While others took flight, being raw, man. 10 
And we ran, fyc. 

Lord Roxburgh was there, in orher to share 
With Douglas, who stood not in awe, man ; 

6. Florence was the Marquis of Huntly's horse. HOGG. 

7-10. Lord Belhaven, the Earl of Leven, and the Earls of 
Rothes and Haddington, who all bore arms as volunteers in 
the royal army. Major-General Joseph Wightman, who com 
manded the centre of the royal army. 

11-14. John, fifth Duke of Roxburgh, a loyal volunteer. 


Volunteerly to ramble with Lord Loudon 


Brave Hay did suffer for a', man. 
And we ran, Sfc. 

Sir John Schaw, that great knight, with broad 
sword most bright, is 

On horseback he briskly did charge, man ; 
A hero that's bold, none could him withhold, 
He stoutly encounter'd the targemen. 
And we ran, fyc. 

For the cowardly Whittam, for fear they should 

cut him, 

Seeing glittering broad swords with a pa', man, 
And that in such thrang, made Baird edicang, 21 
And from the brave clans ran awa, man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

[The great Colonel Dow gade foremost, I trow, 
When Whittam's dragoons ran awa, man ; 

Archibald, Duke of Douglas, who commanded a body of his 
vassals in the royal army. Hugh Campbell, third Earl of 
Loudoun, of the royal army. The Earl of Hay, brother 
to the Duke of Argyle. He came up to the field only a 
few hours before the battle, and had the misfortune to be 

15. Sir John Shaw of Greenock, an officer in the troop 
of volunteers, noted for his keen Whiggish spirit. 

17. Major-General Whitham, who commanded the left 
wing of the King's army. 


Except Sandy Baird, and Naughtan the laird, 20 
Their horse shaw'd their heels to them a', man. 
And we ran, fyc.~\ 

Brave Mar and Panmure were firm, I am sure : 

The latter was kidnapt awa, man ; 
With brisk men about, brave Harry retook 

His brother, and laugh'd at them a', man. so 
And we ran, fyc. 

Brave Marshall, and Lithgow, and Glengary's 

pith, too, 

Assisted by brave Loggia, man, 
And Gordons the bright, so boldly did fight, 
That the redcoats took flight and awa, man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Strathmore and Clanronald cried still, " Advance, 
Donald," 35 

Till both of these heroes did fa', man ; 
For there was such hashing, and broad swords 


Brave Forfar himsel got a claw, man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

27-30. James, Earl of Panmure. The Honourable Harry 
Maule of Kellie, brother to the foregoing, whom he recap 
tured after the engagement. 

31-4. The Earls of Marischal and Linlithgow. The Chief 
of Glengary. Thomas Drummond of Logic Almond. 

35-8. The Earl of Strathmore, killed in the battle. The 
Chief of Clanranald. The Earl of Forfar on the King's 
side wounded in the engagement. 


Lord Perth stood the storm, Seaforth but luke 

Kilsyth, and Strathallan not slaw, man ; 40 

And Hamilton pled the men were not bred, 
For he had no fancy to fa', man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Brave gen'rous Southesk, Tullibardin was brisk, 
Whose father indeed would not draw, man, 

Into the same yoke, which serv'd for a cloak, 
To keep the estate 'twixt them twa, man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Lord Hollo not fear'd, Kintore and his beard, 

Pitsligo and Ogilvie, a', man, 
And brothers Balflours they stood the first 


Clackmannan and Burleigh did claw, man. so 
And we ran, fyc. 

39-42. James, Lord Drummond, eldest son of the Earl 
of Perth, was Lieutenant-general of horse under Mar, and 
behaved with great gallantry. William Mackenzie, fifth 
Earl of Seaforth. The Viscount Kilsyth. The Viscount 
Strathallan. Lieutenant-general George Hamilton, com 
manding under the Earl of Mar. 

43. James, fifth Earl of Southesk. The Marquis of Tul- 
libardine, eldest son of the Duke of Athole. 

47-50. Lord Hollo. The Earl of Kintore. LoM Pitsligo. 
Lord Ogilvie, son of the Earl of Airly. Bruce, Laird of 
Clackmannan the husband, I believe, of the old lady who 
knighted Kobert Burns with the sword of Bruce, at Clack 
mannan Tower. Lord Burleigh. 


But Cleppan fought pretty, and Strowan the witty, 

A poet that pleases us a', man ; 
For mine is but rhyme in respect of what's fine, 

Or what he is able to draw, man. 
And we ran fyc. 

For Huntly and Sinclair, they both play'd the 
tinkler, 55 

With consciences black as a craw, man ; 
Some Angus and Fife men, they ran for their 

life, man, 

And ne'er a Lot's wife there at a', man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Then Laurie the traitor, who betray'd his master, 
His king, and his country, an' a', man, eo 

Pretending Mar might give orders to fight, 
To the right of the army awa, man. 
And we ran, Spc. 

Then Laurie, for fear of what he might hear, 
Took Drummond's best horse, and awa, man : 

'Stead of going to Perth, he crossed the Firth, es 
Alongst Stirling bridge, and awa, man. 
And we ran, c. 

51. Major William Clephane. Alexander Robertson of 
Struan, chief of the Robertsons. 

65. Alexander, Marquis of Huntly, afterwards Duke of 
Gordon. The Master of Sinclair. 

69-74. These four stanzas seem to refer to a circumstance 
VOL. VII. 11 


To London he press'd, and there he profess'd 
That he behav'd best o' them a', man, 

And so, without strife, got settled for life, 

A hundred a-year to his fa', man. ?o 

And we ran, fyc. 

In Borrowstounness he resides with disgrace, 
Till his neck stand in need of a thraw, man ; 

And then in a tether he'll swing from a ladder, 
And go off the stage with a pa', man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Rob Roy there stood watch on a hill, for to catch 

The booty, for ought that I saw, man ; re 

For he ne'er advanc'd from the place he was 


Till no more was to do there at a', man. 
And we ran, tyc. 

So we all took the flight, and Moubray the wright, 
And Lethem the smith was a braw man, so 

For he took a fit of the gout, which was wit, 
By judging it time to withdraw, man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

reported at the time ; namely, that a person had left the Duke 
of Argyle's army, and joined the Earl of Mar's, before the 
battle, intending to act as a spy; and that, being employed 
by Mar to inform the left wing that the right was victorious, 
he gave a contrary statement, and, after seeing them retire 
accordingly, went back again to the royal army. 

76. The celebrated Rob Roy. This redoubted hero was 
prevented, by mixed motives, from joining either party . he 


And trumpet Maclean, whose breeks were not clean, 
Through misfortune he happen'd to fa', man ; 

By saving his neck, his trumpet did break, ss 
And came off without music at a', man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

So there such a race was as ne'er in that place was, 

And as little chace was at a', man ; 
From each other they run without touk of drum, 

They did not make use of a paw, man. 90 

And we ran, fyc. 

[Whether we ran, or they ran, or we wan, or they 


Or if there was winning at a', man, 
There no man can tell, save our brave genarell, 
Who first began running of a', man. 
And we ran, fyc. 

Wi' the Earl o' Seaforth, and the Cock o' the 
North ; 95 

But Florence ran fastest of a', man, 
Save the laird o' Phinaven, who sware to be even 
W any general or peer o' them a', man.] 
And we ran, fyc. 

could not fight against the Earl of Mar, consistent with his 
conscience, nor could he oppose the Duke of Argyle, without 
forfeiting the protection of a powerful friend. 

93. This point is made at the expense of a contradiction. 
See v. 27. 

95-7. The Cock of the North is an honorary popular title 
of the Duke of Gordon. Carnegy of Finhaven. 



JAMES RADCLIFF, Earl of Derwentwater, fell 
into the hands of the Whigs at the surrender of Pres 
ton, on the very day of the battle of Sheriff-Muir, 
and suffered death in February, 1716, for his partici 
pation in the rebellion. Smollet has described him 
as an amiable youth, brave, open, generous, hospi 
table, and humane. " His fate drew tears from the 
spectators, and was a great misfortune to the country 
in which he lived. He gave bread to multitudes of 
people whom he employed on his estate ; the poor, 
the widow, and the orphan rejoiced in his bounty." 
(History of England, quoted by Cromek.) We are 
told that the aurora borealis was remarkably vivid 
on the night of the earl's execution, and that this 
phenomenon is consequently still known in the north 
by the name of " Lord Derwentwater's Lights." 

Although this ballad is said to have been extremely 
popular in the North of England for a long time after 
the event which gave rise to it, no good copy has as 
yet been recovered. The following was obtained by 
Motherwell (Minstrelsy, p. 349) from the recitation 
of an old woman. Another copy, also from recitation 
but " restored to poetical propriety," is given in the 
Gentleman's Magazine, for June, 1825 (p. 489), and 


fragments of a third in Notes and Queries, vol. xii. 
p. 492. Two spurious ballads on the death of Lord 
Derwentwater have been sometimes received as genu 
ine: one by Allan Cunningham, first published in 
Cromek's Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 129, an 
other (Lord Derwentwater*s Goodnight) by Surtees, 
printed in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 81. Still another 
modern imitation is Young Ratcliffe, in Sheldon's 
Minstrelsy of the English Border, p. 401. 

There is a ballad on the disgraceful capitulation of 
Preston in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 102, also, Nor 
thumberland Garland, p. 85, beginning "Mackintosh 
was a soldier brave." 

OUR King has wrote a long letter, 

And sealed it ower with gold ; 
He sent it to my lord Dunwaters, 

To read it if he could. 

He has not sent it with a boy, 5 

Nor with any Scots lord ; 
But he's sent it with the noblest knight 

E'er Scotland could afford. 

The very first line that my lord did read, 

He gave a smirkling smile ; ic 

Before he had the half of it read, 
The tears from his eyes did fall. 

" Come saddle to me my horse," he said, 
" Come saddle to me with speed ; 


For I must away to fair London town, is 

For to me there was ne'er more need." 

Out and spoke his lady gay, 

In childbed where she lay : 
" I would have you make your will, my lord 

Before you go away." 

* I leave to you, my eldest son, 

My houses and my land ; 
I leave to you, my youngest son, 

Ten thousand pounds in hand. 

" I leave to you, my lady gay, 

You are my wedded wife, 
I leave to you, the third of my estate, 

That'll keep you in a lady's life." 

They had not rode a mile but one, 

Till his horse fell owre a stane : so 

" It's a warning good enough," my lord Dunwaters 

" Alive I'll ne'er come hame." 

When they came to fair London town, 

Into the courtiers' hall, 
The lords and knights of fair London town *> 

Did him a traitor call. 


" A traitor ! a traitor ! " says my lord, 

" A traitor ! how can that be ? 
An it 'be nae for the keeping five thousand men, 

To fight for King Jamie. 40 

" all you lords and knights in fair London town, 

Come out and see me die ; 
O all you lords and knights in fair London town, 

Be kind to my ladie. 

" There's fifty pounds in my right pocket, 

Divide it to the poor ; 
There's other fifty in my left pocket, 

Divide it from door to door." 


Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 166: Ritson's Scotish Songs, ii. 76. 

THIS ballad is the work of Adam Skirving, a clever 
and opulent farmer, father of Archibald Skirving, the 
portrait painter. It was printed shortly after the 
battle as a broadside, and next appeared in The 
Charmer, vol. ii. p. 349, Edinb. 1751. Neither of 
those editions contains the eleventh stanza. The 
foot-notes commonly attached to the subsequent re- 


prints are found in The Charmer. (Laing in John 
son's Museum, iv. 189*.) 

To Skirving is also attributed with great probability 
the excellent satirical song of Johnnie Cope, or Cope 
are you waking yet. The original words are in Kit- 
son, Scotish Songs, ii. 84 : another set at p. 82 : a 
third, with alterations and additions by Burns, in 
Johnson's Museum, p. 242. Allan Cunningham once 
heard a peasant boast that he could sing Johnnie Cope 
with all its nineteen variations. See Appendix. 

The battle took place on the 22d of September, 
1745, between the villages of Tranent and Preston- 
pans, a few miles from Edinburgh. The king's lieu 
tenant-general, Sir John Cope, was disgracefully de 
feated by the Highlanders under Charles Edward, 
and nearly all his army killed or taken. The details 
of the conflict are vividly described in the 46th and 
47th chapters of Waverley. 

THE Chevalier, being void of fear, 

Did march up Birsle brae, man, 
And thro' Tranent, e'er he did stent, 

As fast as he could gae, man : 
While General Cope did taunt and mock, 

Wi' mony a loud huzza, man ; 
But e'er next morn proclaim'd the cock, 

We heard another craw, man. 

The brave Lochiel, as I heard tell, 

Led Camerons on in clouds, man ; 
The morning fair, and clear the air, 


They loos'd with devilish thuds, man. 
Down guns they threw, and swords they drew 

And soon did chace them aff, man ; 
On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafts, u 

And gart them rin like daft, man. 

The bluff dragoons swore blood and 'oons, 

They'd make the rebels run, man ; 
And yet they flee when them they see, 

And winna fire a gun, man : 20 

They turn'd their back, the foot they brake, 

Such terror seiz'd them a', man ; 
Some wet their cheeks, some fyl'd their breeks, 

And some for fear did fa', man. 

The volunteers prick'd up their ears, 25 

And vow gin they were crouse, man ; 
But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st, 

They were not worth a louse man. 
Maist feck gade hame ; O fy for shame ! 

They'd better stay'd awa', man, so 

Than wi' cockade to make parade, 

And do nae good at a', man. 

Menteith the great, when hersell sh , 
Un' wares did ding him o'er man ; 

33. The minister of Longformacus, a volunteer; who, 
happening to come, the night before the battle, upon a High 
lander easing nature at Preston, threw him over, and carried 
his gun as a trophy to Cope's camp. 


Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand, 35 

But aff fou fast did scour, man ; 
O'er Soutra hill, e'er he stood still, 

Before he tasted meat, man : 
Troth he may brag of his swift nag, 

That bare him aff sae fleet, man. 40 

And Simpson keen, to clear the een 

Of rebels far in wrang, man, 
Did never strive wi' pistols five, 

But gallop'd with the thrang, man : 
He turn'd his back, and in a crack 

Was cleanly out of sight man ; 
And thought it best ; it was nae jest 

W Highlanders to fight, man. 

'Mangst a' the gang nane bade the bang 

But twa, and ane was tane, man ; so 

For Campbell rade, but Myrie staid, 

And sair he paid the kain, man ; 
Fell skelps he got, was war than shot, 

Frae the sharp-edg'd claymore, man ; 
Frae many a spout came running out 55 

His reeking-het red gore, man. 

41. Another volunteer Presbyterian minister, who said 
he would convince the rebels of their error by the dint of 
his pistols ; having, for that purpose, two in his pockets, two 
in his holsters, and one in his belt. 

51. Mr. Myrie was a student of physic, from Jamaica; 
he entered as a volunteer in Cope's army, and was miserably 
mangled by the broad-swords. 


But Gard'ner brave did still behave 

Like to a hero bright, man ; 
His courage true, like him were few 

That still despised flight, man ; eo 

For king and laws, and country's cause, 

In honour's bed he lay, man ; 
His life, but not his courage, fled, 

While he had breath to draw, man. 

And Major Bowie, that worthy soul, as 

Was brought down to the ground, man ; 
His horse being shot, it was his lot 

For to get mony a wound, man : 
Lieutenant Smith, of Irish birth, 

Frae whom he call'd for aid, man, ro 

Being full of dread, lap o'er his head, 

And wadna be gainsaid, man. 

He made sic haste, sae spur'd his beast, 
'Twas little there he saw, man ; 

69. Lieutenant Smith, who left Major Bowie when lying 
on the field of battle, and unable to move with his wound, 
was of Irish extraction. It is reported that after the publica 
tion of the ballad, he sent Mr. Skirving a challenge to meet 
him at Haddington, and answer for his conduct in treating 
him with such opprobrium. " Gang awa back," said Mr. 
Skirving to the messenger, " and tell Mr. Smith, I have nae 
leisure to gae to Haddington, but if he likes to come here, I'll 
tak a look o' him, and if I think I can fecht him, I'll fecht 
him, and if no I'll just do as he did at Preston I'll rin 
awa'." STENHOUSE. 


To Berwick rade, and safely said, 75 

The Scots were rebels a', man. 
But let that end, for well 'tis kend 

His use and wont to lie, man ; 
The Teague is naught, he never faught, 

When he had room to flee, man. w 

And Caddell drest, amang the rest, 

With gun and good claymore, man, 
On gelding grey he rode that way, 

With pistols set before, man ; 
The cause was good, he'd spend his blood, ss 

Before that he would yield, man ; 
But the night before, he left the cor, 

And never fac'd the field, man. 

But gallant Roger, like a soger, 

Stood and bravely fought, man ; 90 

I'm wae to tell, at last he fell, 

But mae down wi' him brought, man : 
At point of death, wi' his last breath, 

(Some standing round in ring, man,) 
On's back lying flat, he wav'd his hat, 95 

And cry'd, God save the King, man. 

Some Highland rogues, like hungry dogs, 

Neglecting to pursue, man, 
About they fac'd, and in great haste 

Upon the booty flew, man ; 100 

And they, as gain for all their pain, 


Are deck'd wi' spoils of war, man ; 
Fu' bald can tell how hernainsell 
"Was ne'er sae pra before, man. 

At the thorn-tree, which you may see ios 

Be west the meadow-mill, man, 
There mony slain lay on the plain, 

The clans pursuing still, man. 
Sick unco' hacks, and deadly whacks, 

I never saw the like, man ; no 

Lost hands and heads cost them their deads, 

That fell near Preston-dyke, man. 

That afternoon, when a was done, 

I gaed to see the fray, man ; 
But had I wist what after past, us 

I'd better staid away, man : 
On Seaton sands, wi' nimble hands, 

They pick'd my pockets bare, man ; 
But I wish ne'er to drie sick fear, 

For a' the sum and mair, man. ia> 




IN the versions of this ballad given in the body of 
this work, the Earl of Douglas is represented as falling 
by the hand of Harry Percy. In the ballad which 
follows, taken from Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 211, his 
death is ascribed to the revenge of an offended ser 
vant. Though there is not the slightest reason to 
give credence to this story, it has a certain foun 
dation in tradition. Hume of Godscroft writes 
" there are that say, that he [Douglas] was not 
slain by the enemy, but by one of his own men, a 
groom of his chamber, whom he had struck the day 
before with a truncheon, in ordering of the battle, 
because he saw him make somewhat slowly to. And 
they name this man John Bickerton of Luffness, who 
left a part of his armour behind unfastened, and when 
he was in the greatest conflict, this servant of his 
came behind his back, and slew him thereat." Win- 
town says that the Earl was so intent on marshalling 
his forces, and so eager to be at the foe, that he neg 
lected to arm himself carefully. SCOTT'S Minstrelsy, 
i. 350. 

IT fell, and about the Lammas time, 
When husbandmen do win their hay, 

Earl Douglas is to the English woods, 

And a' with him to fetch a prey. 
VOL. VII. 12 


He has chosen the Lindsays light, a 

With them the gallant Gordons gay, 

And the Earl of Fyfe, withouten strife, 
And Sir Hugh Montgomery upon a grey. 

They hae taken Northumberland, 

And sae hae they the North-shire, 10 

And the Otter-dale, they burnt it hale, 

And set it a' into the fire. 

Out then spack a bonny boy, 

That serv'd ane o' Earl Douglas kin, 

" Methinks I see an English host, is 

A-coming branken us upon." 

" If this be true, my little boy, 

An it be troth that thou tells me, 
The brawest bower in Otterburn 

This day shall be thy morning fee. 20 

" But if it be false, my little boy, 
But and a lie that thou tells me, 

13. At this place a recited copy, quoted by Finlay 
(Scottish Ballads, I. p. xviii.), has the following stanzas: 

Then out an spak a little wee boy, 

And he was near o' Percy's kin, 
" Methinks I see the English host, 

A-coming branking us upon ; 

WP nine waggons scaling wide, 

And seven banners bearing high; 
It wad do any living gude 

To see their bonny colours fly. 


On the highest tree that's in Otterburn 
With my awin hands I'll hing thee hie." 

The boy's taen out his little penknife, 26 

That hanget low down by his gare, 

And he gae Earl Douglas a deadly wound, 
Alas, a deep wound and a sare ! 

Earl Douglas said to Sir Hugh Montgomery, 
" Tack thou the vanguard o' the three, ao 

And bury me at yon bracken bush, 
That stands upon yon lilly lee." 

Then Percy and Montgomery met, 
And weel I wat they war na fain ; 

They swapped swords, and they twa swat, as 
And ay the blood ran down between. 

" O yield thee, yield thee, Percy," he said, 

" Or else I vow I'll lay thee low ; 
" Whom to shall I yield," said Earl Percy, 

" Now that I see it maun be so ? " 

" yield thee to yon braken bush, 

That grows upon yon lilly lee ; 
For there lies aneth yon braken bush 

What aft has conquer'd mae than thee." 

" I winna yield to a braken bush, 42 

Nor yet will I unto a brier ; 
But I wald yield to Earl Douglas, 

Or Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he was here.** 

48, 44. Supplied by Motherwell from a recited copy. 


As soon as he knew it was Montgomery, 

He stuck his sword's point in the ground, x 

And Sir Hugh Montgomery was a courteous knight. 
And he quickly caught him by the hand. 

This deed was done at Otterburn, 

About the breaking o* the day ; 
Earl Douglas was buried at the braken bush, as 

And Percy led captive away. 


From Ramsay's Evergreen, i. 78. 

THIS battle took place at Harlaw, near Aberdeen, 
on the 24th of July, 1411. The conflict was occa 
sioned by a dispute concerning the succession to the 
earldom of Ross, between Donald, Lord of the Isles, 
and the son of the Regent, Robert, Duke of Albany, 
whose claim was supported by Alexander Stewart, 
Earl of Mar. The consequences of this battle were 
of the highest importance, inasmuch as the wild Celts 
of the Highlands and Islands received such a check 
that they never again combined for the conquest of 
the civilized parts of Scotland. 

The Battle of Harlaw is one of the old ballads 
whose titles occur in the Complaynt of Scotland 
(1548). A bag-pipe tune of that name is mentioned 
in Drummond of Hawthornden's mock-heroic poem, 
the Polemo Middinia : 

" Interea ante alios dux Piper Laius heros, 
Prsecedens, magnamque gerens cum burdine pypam 
Incipit Harlai cunctis sonare Batellum." 


Mr. Laing, in his Early Metrical Tales (p. xlv.) 
Bpeaks of an edition printed in the year 1668 as being 
"in the curious library of old Robert Myln." No 
copy is now known to exist of a date anterior to that 
which was published in Ramsay's Evergreen. Of the 
age of this copy the most opposite opinions have been 
maintained, some regarding the ballad as contem 
porary with the event, and others insinuating that 
Ramsay, or one of his friends, is chargeable with the 
authorship. This last notion has no other ground 
than the freedom which Ramsay notoriously took 
with his texts, and that freedom has very likely been 
exercised in the present case. We shall, perhaps, 
be going quite as far as is prudent, if we acknowledge 
that this may be one of " the Scots poems wrote by 
the ingenious before 1600." Most readers will agree 
with Lord Hailes that the language is as recent as 
the days of Queen Mary, or of James the Sixth. 
Sibbald, in his Chronicle of Scottish Poetry, iii. 288, 
has stated other objections to receiving this ballad for 
ancient, which seem, however, to be satisfactorily 
answered by Finlay, Scottish Ballads, i. 160. 

The copy of this ballad in The Thistle of Scotland, 
p. 75, is only Ramsay's, imperfectly remembered, or, 
what is quite as probable, here and there altered 
according to the taste of the illiterate editor. At 
page 92 of the same book, three stanzas are given of 
a burlesque song on this battle. A traditional ballad, 
recently recovered, is inserted at the end of this 

FRAE Dunidier as I cam throuch, 
Doun by the hill of Banochie, 


Allangst the lands of Garioch, 
Grit pitie was to heir and se 
The noys and dulesum hermonie, 

That evir that dreiry day did daw, 
Cryand the corynoch on hie, 

Alas ! alas ! for the Harlaw. 

I marvlit quhat the matter meint, 

All folks war in a fiery-fairy ; 
I wist nocht quha was fae or freind, 

Zit quietly I did me carrie. 

But sen the days of auld King Hairy, 
Sic slauchter was not hard nor sene, 

And thair I had nae tyme to tairy, 
For bissiness in Aberdene. 

Thus as I walkit on the way, 

To Inverury as I went, 
I met a man and bad him stay, 

Requeisting him to mak me quaint 

Of the beginning and the event, 
That happenit thair at the Harlaw : 

Then he entreited me tak tent, 
And he the truth sould to me schaw. 

Grit Donald of the Ties did claim 
Unto the lands of Ross sum richt, 

And to the governour he came, 

Them for to haif, gif that he micht : 
Quha saw his interest was but slicht, 

And thairfore answerit with disdain ; 
He hastit hame baith day and nicht, 

And sent nae bodward back again. 


But Donald richt impatient 

Of that answer Duke Robert gaif, 
He vowed to God Omnipotent, as 

All the hale lands of Ross to haif, 

Or ells be graithed in his graif : 
He wald not quat his richt for nocht, 

Nor be abusit lyk a slaif ; 
That bargin sould be deirly bocht. 40 

Then haistylie he did command, 

That all his weir-men should convene, 

Ilk an well harnisit frae hand, 

To meit and heir quhat he did mein : 

He waxit wrath, and vowit tein, 

Sweirand he wald surpryse the North, 
Subdew the brugh of Aberdene, 

Mearns, Angus, and all Fyfe to Forth. 

Thus with the weir-men of the Yles, 

Quha war ay at his bidding bown, so 

With money maid, with forss and wyls, 

Richt far and neir, baith up and doun, 

Throw mount and muir, frae town to town, 
Allangst the lands of Ross he roars, 

And all obey'd at his bandown, 55 

Evin frae the North to Suthren shears. 

Then all the countrie men did zield ; 

For nae resistans durst they mak, 
Nor offer battill in the feild, 

Be forss of arms to beir him bak. eo 

Syne they resolvit all and spak, 
That best it was for thair behoif, 


They sould him for thair chiftain tak, 
Believing weil he did them luve. 

Then he a proclamation maid, 

All men to meet at Inverness, 
Throw Murray land to mak a raid, 

Frae Arthursyre unto Spey-ness. 

And further mair, he sent express, 
To schaw his collours and ensenzie, 

To all and sindry, mair and less, 
Throchout the bounds of Byne and Enzie. 

And then throw fair Straithbogie land 

His purpose was for to pursew, 
And quhasoevir durst gainstand, 

That race they should full sairly rew. 

Then he bad all his men be trew, 
And him defend by forss and slicht, 

And promist them rewardis anew, 
And mak them men of mekle micht. 

Without resistans, as he said, 

Throw all these parts he stoutly past, 
Quhair sum war wae, and sum war glaid, 

But Garioch was all agast. 

Throw all these feilds he sped him fast, 
For sic a sicht was never sene ; 

And then, forsuith, he langd at last 
To se the bruch of Aberdene. 

To hinder this prowd enterprise, 

The stout and michty Erie of Marr 
With all his men in arms did ryse, 


Even frae Curgarf to Craigyvar : 
And down the syde of Don richt far, 

Angus and Mearns did all convene 

To fecht, or Donald came sae nar 95 

The ryall bruch of Aberdene. 

And thus the martial Erie of Marr 
Marcht with his men in richt array ; 

Befoir the enemie was aware, 

His banner bauldly did display. 100 

For weil enewch they kend the way, 

And all their semblance weil they saw : 
Without all dangir, or delay, 

Come haistily to the Harlaw. 

With him the braif Lord Ogilvy, ios 

Of Angus sheriff principall, 
The constabill of gude Dunde, 

The vanguard led before them all. 

Suppose in number they war small, 
Thay first richt bauldlie did pursew, no 

And maid thair faes befor them fall, 
Quha then that race did sairly rew. 

And then the worthy Lord Salton, 

The strong undoubted Laird of Drum, 
The stalwart Laird of Lawristone, us 

With ilk thair forces, all and sum. 

Panmuir with all his men did cum, 
The provost of braif Aberdene, 

With trumpets and with tuick of drum, 
Came schortly in thair armour schene. 120 


These with the Earle of Marr caine on, 

In the reir-ward richt qrderlie, 
Thair enemies to sett upon ; 

In awfull manner hardily, 

Togither yowit to live and die, 124 

Since they had marchit mony mylis, 

For to suppress the tyrannic 
Of douted Donald of the Yles. 

But he in number ten to ane, 

Richt subtile alang did ryde, 130 

With Malcomtosch and fell Maclean, 

With all thair power at thair syde ; 

Presumeand on thair strenth and pryde, 
Without all feir or ony aw, 

Richt bauldie battill did abyde, iss 

Hard by the town of fair Harlaw. 

The armies met, the trumpet sounds, 
The dandling drums alloud did touk, 

Baith armies byding on the bounds, 

Till ane of them the feild sould bruik. 140 

Nae help was thairfor, nane wald jouk, 

Ferss was the fecht on ilka syde, 

And on the ground lay mony a bouk 

Of them that thair did battill byd. 

With doutsum victorie they dealt, 145 

The bludy battil lastit lang ; 

Each man his nibours forss thair felt, 
The weakest affc-tymes gat the wrang : 
Thair was nae mowis thair them amang, 

Naithing was hard but heavy knocks, iso 


That eccho mad a dulefull sang, 
Thairto resounding frae the rocks. 

But Donalds men at last gaif back, 

For they war all out of array : 
The Earl of Marris men throw them brak, iss 

Pursewing shairply in thair way, 
Thair enemys to tak or slay, 
Be dynt of forss to gar them yield ; 

Quha war richt blyth to win away, 
And sae for feirdness tint the feild. ieo 

Then Donald fled, and that full fast, 

To mountains hich for all his micht ; 
For he and his war all agast, 

And ran till they war out of sicht ; 

And sae of Ross he lost his richt, iss 

Thocht mony men with hem he brocht ; 

Towards the Yles fled day and nicht, 
And all he wan was deirlie bocht. 

This is (quod he) the richt report 

Of all that I did heir and knaw ; 170 

Thocht my discourse be sumthing schort, 

Tak this to be a richt suthe saw : 

Contrairie God and the kings law, 
Thair was spilt mekle Christian blude, 

Into the battil of Harlaw : us 

This is the sum, sae I conclude. 

But zit a bonny quhyle abyde, 

And I sail mak thee cleirly ken 
Quhat slauchter was on ilkay syde, 


Of Lowland and of Highland men : io 

Quha for thair awin half evir bene ; 

These lazie lowns micht well be spaird, 
Chessit lyke deirs into their dens, 

And gat thair waiges for reward. 

Malcomtosh, of the clan heid cheif, iss 

Macklean, with his grit hauchty heid, 

With all thair succour and relief, 
War dulefully dung to the deid : 
And now we are freid of thair feid, 

They will not lang to cum again ; 190 

Thousands with them, without remeid, 

On Donald's syd that day war slain. 

And on the uther syde war lost, 

Into the feild that dismal day, 
Chief men of worth, of mekle cost, 195 

To be lamentit sair for ay. 

The Lord Saltoun of Rothemay, 
A man of micht and mekle main ; 

Grit dolour was for his decay, 
That sae unhappylie was slain. 200 

Of the best men amang them was 

The gracious gude Lord Ogilvy, 
The sheriff principal of Angus, 

Renownit for truth and equitie, 

For faith and magnanimitie : 205 

He had few fallows in the field, 

Zet fell by fatall destinie, 
For he nae ways wad grant to zield. 


Sir James Scrimgeor of Duddap, knicht, 

Grit constabill of fair Dunde, ao 

Unto the dulefull deith was dicht : 

The kingis cheif banner man was he, 

A valziant man of chevalrie, 
Quhais predecessors wan that place 

At Spey, with gude King William frie, 215 

Gainst Murray and Macduncans race. 

Gude Sir Allexander Irving, 
The much renownit laird of Drum, 

Nane in his days was bettir sene, 

Quhen they war semblit all and sum. 220 

To praise him we sould not be dumm, 

For valour, witt, and worthyness ; 
To end his days he ther did cum, 

Quhois ransom is remeidyless. 

And thair the knicht of Lawriston 225 

Was slain into his armour schene, 
And gude Sir Robert Davidson, 

Quha provest was of Aberdene : 

The knicht of Panmure, as was sene, 
A mortall man in armour bricht, 230 

Sir Thomas Murray, stout and kene, 
Left to the warld thair last gude nicht. 

Thair was not sen King Keneths days 

Sic strange intestine crewel stryf 
In Scotland sene, as ilk man says, 23s 

Quhair mony liklie lost thair lyfe ; 

Quhilk maid divorce twene man and wyfe, 
And mony childrene fatherless, 


Quhilk in this realme has bene full ryfe : 
Lord help these lands, our wrangs redress. 

In July, on Saint James his even, 
That four and twenty dismall day, 

Twelve hundred, ten score and eleven 
Of zeirs sen Chryst, the suthe to say, 
Men will remember, as they may, 

Quhen thus the veritie they knaw, 
And mony a ane may murn for ay, 

The brim battil of the Harlaw. 


Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. 
Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 52. 

" FROM the singing of the late Francis King, of 
Skipton in Craven, an eccentric character, who was 
well known in the western dales of Yorkshire as 
4 the Skipton Minstrel.' King's version does not 
contain the third verse, which is obtained, as is also 
the title, from a modern broadside, from whence 
also one or two verbal corrections are made, of too 
trifling a nature to particularize. The tune to which 
King used to sing it, is the same as that of The Bold 
Pedlar and RoUn Hood" 

Another ballad, much inferior in spirit to this, on 
the Battle of Agincourt, is to be found in The Crown 
Garland cf Golden Roses (ed. 1659), Percy Soc. vol. 


xv. p. 65. Percy inserted in the Reliques, ii. 26, a 
song on this battle. Another, quoted in Heywood's 
Edward Fourth, and therefore popular before 1600, 
is printed in Mr. Collier's preface to Shakespeare's 
Henry Fifth (new edition). 

The story of the tennis-balls is adopted from the 
chronicles by Shakespeare. " It is reported by some 
historians," says Hume, "that the Dauphin, in de 
rision of Henry's claims and dissolute character, sent 
him a box of tennis-balls, intimating that mere imple 
ments of play were better adapted to him than the 
instruments of war. But this story is by no means 
credible ; the great offers made by the court of France 
show that they had already entertained a just idea of 
Henry's character, as well as of their own situation." 
History of England, ch. xix. 

As our king lay musing on his bed, 

He bethought himself upon a time 
Of a tribute that was due from France, 
Had not been paid for so long a time. 
Down, a-down, a-down, a-down, 
Down, a-down, a-down. 

He called on his trusty page, 5 

His trusty page then called he, 
" O you must go to the king of France, 

O you must go right speedilie. 

"And tell him of my tribute due, 
Ten ton of gold that's due to me, 10 

That he must send me my tribute home, 
Or in French land he soon will me see." 


O then away went the trusty page, 

Away, away, and away went he, 
Until he came to the king of France ; ic 

Lo ! he fell down on his bended knee. 

" My master greets you, worthy Sire ; 

Ten ton of gold there is due, says he ; 
You must send him his tribute home, 

Or in French land you will soon him see." ac 

" Your master's young, and of tender years, 

Not fit to come into my degree ; 
But I will send him three tennis balls, 

That with them learn to play may he." 

O then away came the trusty page, 2& 

Away, and away, and away came he, 

Until he came to our gracious king ; 
Lo ! he fell down on his bended knee. 

" What news, what news, my trusty page, 
What news, what news, hast thou brought to 
me?" so 

" I've brought such news from the king of France, 
That you and he will ne'er agree. 

" He says you're young, and of tender years, 

Not fit to come into his degree ; 
But he will send you three tennis balls, 35 

That with them you may learn to play." 

'O then bespoke our noble king, 
A solemn vow then vowed he ; 


I'll promise him such tennis balls, 
As in French lands he ne'er did see. 40 

" Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire, 

And Derby hills, that are so free ; 
Not a married man, nor a widow's son, 

For the widow's cry shall not go with me." 

They called up Cheshire and Lancashire, & 

And Derby lads that were so free ; 
Not a married man, nor a widow's son, 

Yet they were a jovial bold companie. 

O then he sailed to fair French land, 

With drums and trumpets so merrilie ; ao 

O then bespoke the king of France, 

" Yonder comes proud king Henrie." 

The first fire that the Frenchmen gave, 
They killed our Englishmen so free ; 

We killed ten thousand of the French, 65 

And the rest of them they were forced to flee. 

And then we marched to Paris gates, 
With drums and trumpets so merrilie ; 

O then bespoke the king of France, 
" Lord have mercy on my poor men and me ! eo 

" Go ! tell him I'll send home his tribute due, 
Ten ton of gold that is due from me ; 

And the fairest flower that is in our French land 
To the Rose of England it shall go free." 

VOL. VII. 13 



THE story and character of Jane Shore can best be 
read in a charmingly written passage of Sir Thomas 
More's History of Edward Fifth, quoted in Percy's 
Reliques, ii. 268. The ballad adheres to matter of 
fact with a fidelity very uncommon. In Drayton's 
England's Heroioal Epistles is one from Jane Shore 
to King Edward, and in the notes he thus gives her 
portrait: "Her stature was meane, her haire of a 
dark yellow, her face round and full, her eye gray, 
delicate harmony being betwixt each part's propor 
tion, and each proportion's colour, her body fat, white, 
and smooth, her countenance cheerfull and like to her 
condition." (Cited by Percy.) 

This ballad is taken from the Collection of 1723, 
vol. i. p. 145. The full title is : The Woeful Lamen 
tation of Jane Shore, a Goldsmith's Wife in London, 
sometime King Edward the Fourth's Concubine. The 
same version, with trifling variations, is found in Percy's 
Reliques, ii. 274, and Eitson's Ancient Songs, ii. 128. 
In the Garland of Good Will there is another piece 
on the same subject, (Percy Society, vol. xxx. p. 9, 
The Lamentation of Shore's Wife,) and in the Collec 
tion of 1723, a burlesque song, called King Edward 
and Jane Shore (vol. i. p. 1 53). 

IF Rosamond, that was so fair, 
Had cause her sorrow to declare, 
Then let Jane Shore with sorrow sing, 
That was beloved of a king. 


Then, wanton wives, in time amend, 
For love and beauty will have end. 

In maiden years my beauty bright a 

Was loved dear by lord and knight ; 
But yet the love that they required, 
It was not as my friends desir'd. 

My parents they, for thirst of gain, 

A husband for me did obtain ; w 

And I, their pleasure to fulfil, 

Was forc'd to wed against my will. 

To Matthew Shore I was a wife, 

Till lust brought ruin to my life ; 

And then my life I lewdly spent, is 

Which makes my soul for to lament. 

In Lombard-street I once did dwell, 

As London yet can witness well ; 

Where many gallants did behold 

My beauty in a shop of gold. 20 

I spread my plumes, as wantons do, 
Some sweet and secret friende to wooe, 
Because my love I did not find 
Agreeing to my wanton mind. 

At last my name in court did ring a 

Into the ears of England's king, 

Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd, 

But I made coy what he desir'd. 


Yet Mistress Blague, a neighbour near, 
Whose friendship I esteemed dear, 
Did say, " It is a gallant thing 
To be beloved of a king." 

By her perswasions I was led 

For to defile my marriage-bed, 

And wronge my wedded husband Shore, 

Whom I had lov'd ten years before. 

In heart and mind I did rejoyce, 
That I had made so sweet a choice ; 
And therefore did my state resign, 
To be King Edward's concubine. 

From city then to court I went, 
To reap the pleasures of content ; 
There had the joys that love could bring, 
And knew the secrets of a king. 

When I was thus advanc'd on high, 
Commanding Edward with mine eye, 
For Mistress Blague I in short space 
Obtain'd a living from his Grace. 

No friend I had, but in short time 
I made unto promotion climb ; 
But yet for all this costly pride, 
My husbande could not me abide. 

His bed, tho' wronged by a king, 
His heart with deadly grief did sting ; 


From England then lie goes away & 

To end his life beyond the sea. 

He could not live to see his name 

Impaired by my wanton shame ; 

Altho' a prince of peerless might 

Did reap the pleasure of his right. eo 

Long time I lived in the court, 
With lords and ladies of great sort ; 
And when I smil'd, all men were glad, 
But when I mourn 'd, my prince grew sad. 

But yet an honest mind I bore 65 

To helpless people, that were poor ; 

I still redress'd the orphan's cry, 

And sav'd their lives condemn'd to dye. 

I still had ruth on widows tears, 

I succour'd babes of tender years ; 70 

And never look'd for other gain 

But love and thanks, for all my pain. 

At last my royal king did dye, 

And then my days of woe grew nigh ; 

When crook-back'd Richard got the crown, n 

King Edward's friends were soon put down. 

I then was punish'd for my sin, 

That I so long had lived in ; 

Yea, every one that was his friend, 

This tyrant brought to shameful end. so 

56. upon. 


Then for my lewd and wanton life, 
That made a strumpet of a wife, 
I penance did in Lombard-street, 
In shame fill manner in a sheet: 

Where many thousands did me view, & 

Who late in court my credit knew ; 
Which made the tears run down my face, 
To think upon my foul disgrace. 

Not thus content, they took from mee 
My goods, my livings, and my fee, so 

And charg'd that none should me relieve, 
Nor any succour to me give. 

Then unto Mistress Blague I went, 

To whom my jewels I had sent, 

In hope thereby to ease my want, as 

When riches fail'd, and love grew scant. 

But she deny'd to me the same, 

When in my need for them I came ; 

To recompence my former love, 

Out of her doors she did me shove. 100 

So love did vanish with my state, 
Which now my soul repents too late ; 
Therefore example take by me, 
For friendship parts in poverty. 

But yet one friend among the rest, 105 

Whom I before had seen distress'd, 

81. rude. 


And sav'd his life, condemn'd to dye, 
Did give me food to succour me: 

For which, by law it was decreed 

That he was hanged for that deed ; 110 

His death did grieve me so much more, 

Than had I dy'd myself therefore. 

Then those to whom I had done good 

Durst not afford mee any food ; 

Whereby in vain I beggM all day, us 

And still in streets by night I lay. 

My gowns beset with pearl and gold, 

Were turn'd to simple garments old ; 

My chains and jems and golden rings, 

To filthy rags and loathsome things. 120 

Thus was I scorn'd of maid and wife, 
For leading such a wicked life ; 
Both sucking babes and children small, 
Did make a pastime at my fall. 

I could not get one bit of bread, iac 

Whereby my hunger might be fed : 
Nor drink, but such as channels yield, 
Or stinking ditches in the field. 

Thus, weary of my life, at length 

I yielded up my vital strength, i 

Within a ditch of loathsome scent, 

Where carrion dogs do much frequent : 

114. restore. 


The which now since my dying day, 

Is Shoreditch call'd, as writers say ; 

Which is a witness of my sin, m 

For being concubine to a king. 

You wanton wives, that fall to lust, 

Be you assur'd that God is just ; 

Whoredom shall not escape his hand, 

Nor pride unpunish'd in this land. uc 

If God to me such shame did bring, 
That yielded only to a king, 
How shall they scape that daily run 
To practise sin with every man ? 

You husbands, match not but for love, 145 

Lest some disliking after prove ; 

Women, be warn'd when you are wives, 

What plagues are due to sinful lives : 

Then, maids and wives, in time amend, 
For love and beauty will have end. 

134. But it had this name long before; being so called 
from its being a common sewer (vulgarly shore) or drain. 



THIS copy of Sir Andrew Barton is to be found in 
Old Ballads (1723) vol. i. 159, Ritson's Ancient Songs, 
ii. 204, Moore's Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad 
Poetry, p. 256, and Early Naval Ballads of England, 
Percy Society, vol. ii. p. 4, with only exceedingly 
trifling variations. We have followed the last, where 
the ballad is given from a black-letter copy in the 
British Museum, " printed by and for W. O., and sold 
by the booksellers." 

WHEN Flora with her fragrant flowers, 

Bedeckt the earth so trim and gay, 
And Neptune with his dainty showers, 

Came to present the month of May, 
King Henry would a-hunting ride ; 

Over the river Thames passed he, 
Unto a mountain-top also 

Did walk, some pleasure for to see. 

Where forty merchants he espyM, 
With fifty sail came towards him, 

Who then no sooner were arriv'd, 

But on their knees did thus complain ; 

" An't please your grace, we cannot sail 


To France no voyage to be sure, 
But Sir Andrew Barton makes us quail, 
And robs us of our marchant ware." 

Vext was the king, and turning him, 

Said to the lords of high degree, 
" Have I ne'er a lord within my realm, 

Dare fetch that traytor unto me ? " 
To him reply'd Charles Lord Howard, 

" I will, my liege, with heart and hand ; 
If it will please you grant me leave," he said, 

" I will perform what you command." 

To him then spoke King Henry, 

' I fear, my lord, you are too young." 
" No whit at all, my liege," quoth he ; 

" I hope to prove in valour strong. 
The Scotch knight I vow to seek, 

In what place soever he be, 
And bring ashore with all his might, 

Or into Scotland he shall carry me." 

" A hundred men," the king then said, 

" Out of my realm shall chosen be, 
Besides sailors and ship-boys, 

To guide a great ship on the sea. 
Bowmen and gunners of good skill, 

Shall for this service chosen be, 
And they at thy command and will 

In all affairs shall wait on thee." 

Lord Howard call'd a gunner then, 
Who was the best in all the realm, 


His age was threescore years and ten, 

And Peter Simon was his name. 
My lord calPd then a bow-man rare, 45 

Whose active hands had gained fame 
A gentleman born in Yorkshire, 

And William Horsely was his name. 

u Horsely ! " quoth he, " I must to sea, 

To seek a traytor, with good speed : so 

Of a hundred bow-men brave," quoth he, 

" I have chosen thee to be the head." 
" If you, my lord, have chosen me 

Of a hundred men to be the head, 
Upon the mainmast I'll hanged be, 

If twelve-score I miss one shilling's breadth." 

Lord Howard then of courage bold, 

Went to the sea with pleasant cheer, 
Not curbed with winter's piercing cold, 

Tho' it was the stormy time of year. 

Not long had he been on sea, 

More in days than number three, 
But one Henry Hunt then he espy'd, 

A merchant of Newcastle was he. 

To him Lord Howard call'd out amain, es 

And strictly charged him to stand ; 
Demanding then from whence he came, 

Or where he did intend to land. 
The merchant then made answer soon, 

With heavy heart and careful mind, TO 

" My lord, my ship it doth belong 

" Unto New-castle upon Tine." 


" Canst thou show me," the lord did say, 

" As thou didst sail by day and night, 
A Scottish rover on the sea, 

His name is Andrew Barton, knight ? " 
Then the merchant sighed and said, 

With grieved mind and well-a-way, 
" But over well I know that wight, 

I was his prisoner yesterday. 

" As I, my lord, did sail from France, 

A Burdeaue voyage to take so far, 
I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence, 

Who robb'd me of my merchant ware. 
And mickle debts God knows I owe, 

And every man doth crave his own ; 
And I am bound to London now, 

Of our gracious king to beg a boon." 

" Show me him," said Lord Howard then, 

" Let me once the villain see, 
And every penny he hath from thee ta'en, 

I'll double the same with shillings three." 
" How, God forbid," the merchant said, 

" I fear your aim that you will miss ; 
God bless you from his tyranny, 

For little you think what man he is. 

" He is brass within and steel without, 
His ship most huge and mighty strong, 

With eighteen pieces of ordinance, 
He carrieth on each side along. 

With beams for his top-castle, 
As also being huge and high, 


That neither English nor Portugal 
Can Sir Andrew Barton pass by." 

; ' Hard news thou shewst," then said the lord, MW 

" To welcome stranger to the sea ; 
But as I said, I'll bring him aboard, 

Or into Scotland he shall carry me." 
The merchant said, " If thou will do so, 

Take councel, then, I pray withal : no 

Let no man to his top-castle go, 

Nor strive to let his beams downfall. 

" Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then, 

Of each side of my ship," said he, 
"And to-morrow, my Lord, us 

Again I will your honour see. 
A glass I set as may be seen, 

Whether you sail by day or night ; 
And to-morrow, be sure before seven, 

You shall see Sir Andrew Barton, knight." 120 

The merchant set my lord a glass, 

So well apparent in his sight, 
That on the morrow, as his promise was, 

He saw Sir Andrew Barton, knight : 
The lord then swore a mighty oath, 125 

" Now by the heavens that be of might, 
By faith, believe me, and my troth, 

I think he is a worthy knight." 

" Fetch me my lyon out of hand," 

Saith the lord, " with rose and streamer high ; xao 

129-136. In some copies this stanza is wrongly placed 
after the next. 


Set up withal a willow-wand, 

That merchant like I may pass by : " 

Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass, 
And on anchor rise so high ; 

No top-sail at last he cast, ias 

But as a foe did him defie. 

Sir Andrew Barton seeing him 

Thus scornfully to pass by, 
As tho' he cared not a pin 

For him and his company ; 140 

Then called he his men amain, 

" Fetch back yon pedlar now," quoth he, 
And ere this way he comes again, 

I'll teach him well his courtesie." 

A piece of ordnance soon was shot 145 

By this proud pirate fiercely then, 
Into Lord Howard's middle deck, 

Which cruel shot killed fourteen men. 
He called then Peter Simon, he : 

" Look how thy word do stand instead, iso 

For thou shall be hanged on main-mast, 

If thou miss twelve score one penny breadth." 

Then Peter Simon gave a shot, 

Which did Sir Andrew mickle scare, 
In at his deck it came so hot, iss 

Killed fifteen of his men of war. 
"Alas," then said the pirate stout, 

" I am in danger now I see ; 
This is some lord, I greatly fear, 

That is set on to conquer me." ieo 


Then Henry Hunt, with rigour hot, 

Came bravely on the other side, 
Who likewise shot in at his deck, 

And killed fifty of his men beside. 
Then " Out alas," Sir Andrew cryd, m 

" What may a man now think or say ! 
Yon merchant thief that pierceth me, 

He was my prisoner yesterday." 

Then did he on Gordion call 

Unto the top castle for to go, iro 

And bid his beams he should let fall, 

For he. greatly fear'd an overthrow. 
The lord call'd Horsely now in haste : 

" Look that thy word stand in stead, 
For thou shall be hanged on main mast, ITS 

If thou miss twelve score a shilling's breadth." 

Then up [the] mast tree swerved he, 

This stout and mighty Gordion ; 
But Horsely he most happily 

Shot him under his collar-bone : iso 

Then call'd he on his nephew then, 

Said, " Sister's son, I have no mo, 
Three hundred pound I will give thee, 

If thou will to top-castle go." 

Then stoutly he began to climb, ias 

From off the mast scorn'd to depart ; 

But Horsely soon prevented him, 
And deadly pierced him to the heart. 

His men being slain, then up amain 

Did this proud pirate climb with speed, iw 


For armour of proof he had on, 
And did not dint of arrows dread. 

" Come hither, Horseley," said the lord, 

" See thou thy arrows aim aright ; 
Great means to thee I will afford, 135 

And if thou speedst, I'll make thee knight." 
Sir Andrew did climb up the tree, 

With right good will and all his main ; 
Then upon the breast hit Horsley he, 

Till the arrow did return again. aoo 

Then Horsley spied a private place, 

With a perfect eye, in a secret part ; 
His arrow swiftly flew apace, 

And smote Sir Andrew to the heart. 
" Fight on, fight on, my merry men all, 205 

A little I am hurt, yet not slain ; 
I'll but lie down and bleed awhile, 

And come and fight with you again. 

"And do not," said he, " fear English rogues, 

And of your foes stand not in awe, 210 

But stand fast by St. Andrew's crosse, 

Until you hear my whistle blow." 
They never heard this whistle blow, 

Which made them all full sore afraid. 
Then Horsely said, " My Lord, aboard, 215 

For now Sir Andrew Barton's dead." 

Thus boarded they his gallant ship, 

With right good will and all their main ; 
Eighteen score Scots alive in it, 


Besides as many more was slain. 220 

The lord went where Sir Andrew lay, 

And quickly thence cut off his head ; 
" I should forsake England many a day, 

If thou wert alive as thou art dead." 

Thus from the wars Lord Howard came, 225 

With mickle joy and triumphing ; 
The pirate's head he brought along 

For to present unto our king : 
Who haply unto him did say, 

Before he well knew what was done, aao 

" Where is the knight and pirate gay, 

That I myself may give the doom ? " 

" You may thank God," then said the lord, 

"And four men in the ship," quoth he, 
That we are safely come ashore, 233 

Sith you never had such an enemy ; 
That is Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon, 

William Horsely, and Peter's son ; 
Therefore reward them for their pains, 

For they did service at their turn." 2*) 

To the merchant therefore the King he said, 
" In lieu of what he hath from thee tane, 

I give thee a noble a-day, 

Sir Andrew's whistle and his chain : 

To Peter Simon a crown a-day, 245 

238. The services of Peter's son, not mentioned in this 
ballad, are duly recorded in the older, unabridged copy. See 
v. 53-56, on p. 64. 

VOL. VII. 14 


And half-a-crown a-day to Peter's son, 
And that was for a shot so gay, 
Which bravely brought Sir Andrew down. 

" Horsely, I will make thee a knight, 

And in Yorkshire thou shall dwell : aso 

Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight, 

For this act he deserveth well. 
Ninety pound to our Englishmen, 

Who in this fight did stoutly stand ; 
And twelve-pence a-day to the Scots, till they 255 

Come to my brother king's high land." 

OF FAIR, FOUGHT OCT. 28, 1562. 

From Evans's Old Ballads, Hi. 132. 

THE favor shown by Queen Mary to her brother 
Lord James Stuart, on her first coming to Scotland, 
excited a violent jealousy in Gordon, Earl of Huntly, 
who, as a Catholic, and the head of a loyal and pow 
erful family in the North, expected no slight distinction 
from his sovereign. This jealousy broke out into 
open hostility when the Queen, in 1562, conferred 
on her brother the earldom of Murray, the honors 
and revenues of which had been enjoyed by Huntly 
since 1548. Mary was at this time on a progress in 
the northern part of her kingdom, attended by the 
new earl and a small escort. Huntly collected his 


vassals and posted himself at a place called the Fair 
Bank, or Corichie, near Aberdeen. Murray having 
increased his forces by seven or eight hundred of the 
Forbeses and Leslies, who, although attached to the 
Huntly faction, dared not disobey the Queen's sum 
mons, marched to the attack. As little confidence 
could be placed in the good faith of the northern 
recruits, he ordered them to begin the battle. In 
obedience to this command, they advanced against 
the enemy, but instantly recoiled and retreated in a 
pretended panic on Murray's reserve, followed by the 
Gordons in disorder. The Queen's party received 
both the flying and the pursuers with an impenetrable 
front of lances. Huntly was repulsed, and the other 
northern clans, seeing how the victory was going, 
turned their swords upon their friends. Many of the 
Gordons were slain, and the Earl, who was old and 
fat, being thrown from his horse, was smothered in 
the retreat. His sons John and Adam were taken 
prisoners, and the former was put to death at Aber 
deen the day after the battle. 

The following ballad, it will be perceived, is utterly 
at variance with the facts of history. It was first 
printed in Evans's Old Ballads, and is said to be the 
composition of one Forbes, schoolmaster at Mary- 
Culter, on Dee-side. The dialect is broad Aber 

MURN ye heighlands, and inurn ye leighlands, 

I trow ye hae meikle need ; 
For thi bonny burn o' Corichie 

His run this day wi' bleid. 


Thi hopefu' laird o' Finliter, 

Erie Huntly's gallant son, 
For thi love lii bare our beauteous quine 

His gar't fair Scotland mone. 

Hi his braken his ward in Aberdene, 
Throu dreid o' thi fause Murry, 

And his gather't the gentle Gordone clan, 
An' his father, auld Huntly. 

Fain wid he tak our bonny guide quine, 

An' beare hir awa' wi' him ; 
But Murry's slee wyles spoil't a' thi sport, 

An* reft him o' lyfe and lim. 

Murry gar 't rayse thi tardy Merns men, 
An' Angis, an' mony ane mair, 

Erie Morton, and the Byres Lord Linsay, 
An' campit at thi hill o' Fare. 

Erie Huntlie came wi' Haddo Gordone, 
An' countit ane thusan men ; 

But Murry had abien twal hunder, 
Wi' sax score horsemen and ten. 

They soundit thi bougills an' the trumpits, 
An' marchit on in brave array, 

Till the spiers an' the axis forgatherit, 
An' than did begin thi fray. 

Thi Gordones sae fercelie did fecht it, 
Withouten terrer or dreid, 

6. This. 


That mony o' Hurry's men lay gaspin, 
An* dyit tlii grund wi theire bleid. 

Then fause Murry feingit to flee them, 

An' they pursuit at his backe, 
Whan thi haf o' thi Gordones desertit, * 

An' turnit wi' Murray in a crack. 

Wi hether i' thir bonnits they turnit, 

The traiter Haddo o' their heid, 
An' slaid theire brithers an' their fatheris, 

An' spoilit an' left them for deid. *> 

Then Murry cried to tak thi auld Gordone, 

An' mony ane ran wi' speid ; 
But Stuart o' Inchbraik had him stickit, 

An' out gushit thi fat lurdane's bleid. 

Then they teuke his twa sones quick an' hale, 

An' bare them awa' to Aberdene ; 
But fair did our guide quine lament 

Thi waeful chance that they were tane. 

Erie Murry lost mony a gallant stout man ; 

Thi hopefu' laird o' Thornitune, so 

Pittera's sons, an Egli's far fearit laird, 

An mair to mi unkend, fell doune. 

Erie Huntly mist ten score o' his bra* men, 
Sum o' heigh an' sum o' leigh degree ; 

Skeenis youngest son, thi pryde o' a' the clan, 
Was ther fun' dead, he widna flee. 


This bloody fecht wis fercely faucht 
Octobri's aught an' twinty day, 

Crystis' fyfteen hundred thriscore yeir 
An' twa will merk thi deidlie fray. 

But now the day maist waefu' came, 
That day the quine did grite her fill, 

For Huntly's gallant stalwart son, 
Wis heidit on thi heidin hill. 

Fyve noble Gordones wi' him hangit were 

Upon thi samen fatal playne ; 
Crule Murry gar't thi waefu' quine luke out, 

And see hir lover an' liges slayne. 

I wis our quine had better frinds, 
I wis our country better peice ; 

I wis our lords wid na' discord, 
I wis our weirs at hame may ceise. 


WHEN Philip the Second was preparing his Armada 
for the conquest of England, he spared no pains to 
induce James of Scotland to favor his enterprise. 
Elizabeth, on her part, was not less active to secure 
the friendship of a neighbor, who, by opening or 
closing his ports, might do so much to assist or to 
counteract the projects of her enemy. James had the 


wisdom to see that it was not for his interest to ally 
himself with a power that sought the extinction of 
the faith which he professed, and the subjugation of a 
kingdom to which he was the heir. The Spanish 
overtures were rejected, and the great body of the 
people, warmly applauding the king's decision, entered 
into a combination to resist an attempt to land at any 
point on the Scottish coast. There was, nevertheless, 
a small party in Scotland which favoured the designs 
of Philip. At the head of this faction were the 
Catholic Earls of Huntly, Errol, and Angus. Even 
after the dispersion of the Armada, they kept up ne 
gotiations with the Prince of Parma and the King 
of Spain, in the hope of restoring the ancient religion, 
or at least of obtaining for themselves an equality of 
privileges with the Protestants. More than once were 
the leaders of this party committed to prison for overt 
acts of treason, and released by the clemency of the 
sovereign, but suffering as the Romanists did under 
the oppression of a fanatical majority, rebellion was 
their natural condition. 

After various acts of insubordination, continued for 
a series of years, it was proved beyond question that 
the Catholic earls had signed papers for an invasion 
of Britain by 30,000 foreigners. A Convention of 
Estates, summoned to consider the affair, finally de 
termined that the three earls should be exempt from 
further inquiry on account of this conspiracy, but that 
before the first day of February, 1594, they should 
either renounce the errors of Popery, or remove from 
the kingdom. The Catholic leaders, relying on the 
number of their supporters, and not less on the inac 
cessible nature of the country in which their estates 


lay, scornfully rejected the choice proposed to them, 
renewed their connections with Spain, and were ac 
cordingly declared guilty of high treason and subjected 
to the doom of forfeiture. 

King James's exchequer was at this time so low 
that it was impossible for him to undertake the enforc 
ing of this sentence in person. He was obliged to 
delegate the office to the young Earl of Argyle, who 
was induced to accept the appointment by the prom 
ise of a portion of Huntly's forfeited estates. The 
prospect of booty and the authority of the chief of the 
Campbells drew together six or seven thousand High 
landers, to whom were joined some hundreds of men 
from the Western Islands, under the chief of Maclean. 
With this body, one fourth of whom carried firelocks, 
while the rest were armed after the Gaelic fashion, 
Argyle descended from the hills towards Huntly's 
castle of Strathbogie. 

The chief of the Gordons, suddenly assailed, had no 
tune to procure assistance from Angus. He collected 
about a thousand gentlemen of his own name, and 
Errol came to his aid with two or three hundred of 
the Hays. All these were men of birth, well armed 
and mounted, and to this small, but powerful, troop 
of cavalry, was added a train of six field pieces (en 
gines very terrible to Highlanders), under the manage 
ment of an excellent soldier, the very same Captain 
Ker, who has figured already in the ballad of Edom 
o' Gordon. 

The armies encountered at a place called Belrinnes 
in a district called Glenlivet. The Highlanders were 
posted on a mountain-side, so steep that footmen could 
barely keep their hold. Notwithstanding this obstacle, 


the Earls determined to attempt the ascent, and 
Errol, supported by Sir Patrick Gordon, led the Hays 
up the hill in the very face of the foe. While the 
vanguard was advancing, Ker brought some of his 
artillery to bear on Argyle's front, which threw the 
Highlanders into confusion, and caused some of them 
to fly. Errol's horsemen, however, were soon forced 
by the steepness of the mountain to wheel and move 
obliquely, and their flank being thus exposed, their 
horses suffered considerable damage from a volley of 
bullets and arrows. Upon this Huntly made a fierce 
attack upon Argyle's centre, and bore down his ban 
ner, and his cavalry soon after attaining to more 
even ground, where their horses could operate with 
efficiency, the Highlanders, who were destitute of 
lances, and so unable to withstand the shock, were 
driven down the other side of the hill, and put to 
utter rout. The chief of Maclean alone withstood 
the assault of the horsemen, and performed marvel 
lous feats of bravery, but was at last forced off the field 
by his own soldiers, and Argyle himself was compelled 
to fly, weeping with anger. Of the Catholics, Sir 
Patrick Gordon, Huntley's uncle, was slain, with only 
twelve others. The loss of the other party was several 
hundred soldiers, besides some men of note, among 
them Campbell of Lochinzell. 

This battle was fought on the third of October, 
1594. The action is called the Battle of Gtenlivet, 
or of Balrinnes, and also of Strath-aven. See the 
38th chapter of Sir W. Scott's History of Scotland, 
and the contemporary narrative in Dalzell's Scotish 
Poems of the Sixteenth Century, i. 136. 

The ballad which follows is taken from the publica- 


tion of Dalzell just mentioned, vol. ii. p. 347. There 
is a copy in the Pepys Collection, and another in the 
Advocates* Library, printed at Edinburgh in 1681. 
The ballad is also printed, undoubtedly from a stall 
copy, in Scarce Ancient Ballads, p. 29. The first 
four stanzas had previously been given in Jamieson's 
Popular Ballads, ii. 144. The older version of Dal 
zell is somewhat defective, and abounds in errors, 
which, as well as the vitiated orthography, are attrib 
uted to the ignorance of an English transcriber. The 
omissions are here supplied in the margin from the 
other copies. 

BETUIXT Dunother and Aberdein, 

I rais and tuik the way, 
Beleiuing weill it had not beine 

Nought halff ane hour to day. 
The lift was clad with cloudis gray, 5 

And owermaskit was the moone, 
Quhilk me deceaued whair I lay, 

And maid me ryss ouer soone. 

On Towie Mounth I mett a man, 

Weill grathed in his gear : 10 

Quoth I, " Quhat neues ? " then he begane 

To tell a fitt of warre. 
Quoth he, " Of lait I heir, 

Ane bloodie broust there was brouine, 

13-24. Saying, " The ministers, I fear, 

A bloody browst have brown, 16 

For yesterday, withouthen mair, 
On the hill at Stradown, 


Zesterday, withouten moir, is 

Upone ane hill at Strathdoune." 

Then I, as any man wold be, us 

Desyrous for to know 
Mair of that taill he told to me, 

The quhilk he said he sawe 
Be then the day began to daw, 

And back with him I red ; ao 

Then he began the soothe to schaw, 

And on this wayis he said. 

Macallenmore cam from the wast 

With many a bow and brand ; 
To wast the Rinnes he thought best, 36 

The Earll of Huntlies land. 
He swore that none should him gainestand, 

Except that he war fay ; 
Bot all sould be at his comand 

That dwelt be northen Tay. to 

Then Huntlie, for to prevent that perrill, 
Directit hastilie 

" I saw three lords in battle fight 

Eight furiously awhile, 
Huntlie and Errol, as they hight, 

Were both against Argyle. 
Turn back with me and ride a mile, 

And I shall make it kend, 
How they began, the form and stile, 

And of the battles end." 

36. landis. 


Unto the noble Erll of Erroll, 

Besought him for supplie. 
Quha said, " It is my deutie 

For to giue Huntlie support ; 
For if he lossis Strabolgie, 

My Slaines will be ill hurt. 

" Thairfoir I hald the subject vaine, 

Wold rave us of our right ; . GO 

First sail one of us be slaine, 

The uther tak the flight. 
Suppose Argyll be muche of might, 

Be force of Heigheland men ; 
We's be a motte into his sight, 

Or he pas hame againe. 

" Be blaithe, my mirrie men, be blaithe, 

Argyll sail have the worse, 
Give he into this countrie kaithe, 

I houpe in God[i]& cross." eo 

Then leap this lord upon his horss, 

Ane warrlyk troupe at Torray ; 
To meit with Huntlie and his force, 

They ryde to Elgine of Murray. 

The samen night thir lordis meit ; es 

For utheris, who thought long, 
(To tell zow all, I haue forgot) 

The mirthe was them amonge. 
Then playeris played, and songsters song, 

To gled the mirrie host, 70 

Quho feared not thair foes strong, 

Nor zet Argylles boste. 


They for two dayes wold not remove, 

Bot blaithlie dranck the wyne, 
Some to his lass, some to his loue, "s 

Some to his ladeis fyne. 
And he that thought not for to blyne, 

His mistres tockin tackes ; 
They kist it first, and set it syne 

Upone thair helmes and jackes. ao 

They past thair tyme right wantonly, 

Quhill word cam at ye last, 
Argyll, with ane great armie, 

Approached wondrous fast. 
Then [out] of the toune thir barrones past, 85 

And Huntlie to them said, 
" Good gentillmen, we will us cast 

To Strathbolgie but bed." 

Quhen they unto Strathbolgie came, 

To that castell but dreid, w 

Then to forsee how thingis might frame, 

88. beed. 
91. fraine. 

89-96. This stanza is unintelligible in Dalzell. It stands 
thus in Laing's copy. 

When they unto Strathboggy came, 

To council soon they geed, 
For to see how things might frame, 

For they had meikle need. 
They voted then to do a deed 

As kirkmen do devise, 
And pray'd that they might find good speed 

In that great interprise. 


For they had meikle neid, 
They woned them unto the dead, 

As kirkmen could devys ; 
Syne prayed to God that they might speed *s 

Off thair guid enterpryse. 

Then evirie man himself did arme, 

To meit Mackallanmorne, 
Unto Strathdoune quho did great harme 

The Wednesday beforne. 100 

As lyounes does poore lambes devoure, 

With bloodie teethe and naillis, 
They burnt the biggingis, tuik the store, 

Syne slewe the peopillis sellis. 

Besyd all this hie crueltie, ios 

He said, ere he should ceass, 
The standing stonnes of Strathbolgie 

Schould be his palione place. 
Bot Huntlie said, With Godis grace, 

First we sail fight them ones ; 110 

Perchance that they may tak the chess, 

Ere they come to the stonnes." 

Thir lordis keipt on at afternoone, 

With all thair warrmen wight ; 
Then sped up to Cabrach sone, us 

Whair they bed all that night. 
Upone the morne, quhen day was light, 

They rose and maid them boune 
Intill ane castell that stood on hight, 

They call it Auchindoune. 120 


Besyd that castell, on a croft, 

They stended pallionis ther ; 
Then spak a man that had bein oft 

In jeopardie of warr : 
" My lord, zour foes they ar to fear, ias 

Thoughe we war neuir so stoute ; 
Thairfoir comand some man of warre 

To watche the rest about." 

Be this was done, some gentillmen 

Of noble kin and blood, iso 

To counsell with thir lordis begane, 

Of matteris to concluide : 
For weill aneughe they understood 

The matter was of weght, 
They had so manie men of good iss 

In battell for to fight. 

The firstin man in counsall spak, 

Good Errol it was he ; 
Who say is, " I will the vaneguard tack, 

And leiding upone me. 140 

My Lord Huntlie, come succour me, 

When ze sie me opprest ; 
For fra the feild I will not flic 

So long as I may last." 

Thair at some Gordones waxed wraithe, i 

And said he did them wrong ; 
To lat this lord then they warre leath 

First to [the] battell gange. 
The meiting that was them amonge, 

149. This line seems to be corrupted. 


Was no man that it hard, iso 

Bot Huntlie, with ane troupe full stronge, 
Bed into the reir guarde. 

Thir wer the number of thair force 

Thir lordis to battell led : 
Ane thousand gentillmen on horss, 155 

And some fotemen they had ; 
Thrie hundreth that schot arrowes bred, 

Four scoir that hagbutis bore : 
Thir war the number that they had 

Of footmen with them suire. ieo 

This worthy chevalrie 

All merchand to the field ; 
Argyll, with ane great armie, 

Upone ane hill had tane beild, 
Aboyding them [with] speare and scheild, IGS 

With bullettis, dartis, and bowes ; 
The men could weill thair wapones weild ; 

To meit them was no mowes. 

When they so near uther war come, 

That ilk man saw his foe, iro 

" Goe to, and assay the gaime," said some ; 

Bot Capitane Ker said, " No : 

161. Some words are lost. 

Thus with their noble cavalry 
They inarched to the field. 


165. speares and scheildis. 
167. weild thair wapones weill. 


First lat the gunes befoir us goe, 

That they may break the order : 
Quoth both the lordis, " Lat it be so, 175 

Or euer we goe forder." 

Then Androw Gray, upone ane horss, 

Betuixt the battillis red ; 
Makand the signe of holy cross, 

In manus tuas he said. iao 

He lighted thair [the] gunes to led, 

Quhill they cam to the rest ; 
Then Capitane Ker unto him sped, 

And bad him shuit in haist. 

" I will not [shuit]," quothe Androw Gray, iss 

" Quhill they cum over zonder hill ; 
We have an ower guid caus this dey, 

Through misgydins to spill. 
Goe back, and bid our men byd still, 

Quhill they cum to the plaine ; 190 

Then sail my shuitting doe them ill, 

I will not shuit in vaine." 

" Shuit up, shuit up," quothe Capitane Ker, 

" Shuit up, to our comfort ! " 
The firsten shot [it] was to neir, 195 

It lighted all to schort. 
The nixtin shot thair foes hurt, 

It lighted wounderous weill : 
Quoth Androw Gray, " I sie ane sport, 

Quhen they began to reill. 200 

180. mannis. 187. then ower. 

VOL. VII. 15 


" Goe toe, good mattes, and say the game, 

Zonder folkis ar in a fray ; 
Lat sie how we can well with them, 

Into thair disaray. 
Goe, goe, it is not tyme to stay, 

All for my bennisoune ; 
Saue non this day ze may gar dye, 

Quhill ze the feild haue wonne." 

Then Errol haisted to the hight, 

Whair he did battell byd ; 
With him went Auchindoune and Gight, 

And Bonnitoune by his syd : 
Whair manie gentillman did with him byd, 

Whos prais sould not be smored ; 
Bot Capitane Ker, that was thair gyde, 

Red ay befoir my lord. 

They war not manie men of werre, 
Bot they war wonder trewe ; 

With hagbutis, pistolet, bowe, and speare, 
They did thair foes persewe, 

Quhair bullettis, dartis, and arrowes flew, 
Als thick as haill or raine, 

209-216. Then awful Erroll he can say 
" Good fellows, follow me : 
I hope it shall be ours this day, 

Or else therefore to die. 
Tho they in number many be, 

Set on, withoutten words ; 
Let ilk brave fellow brake his tree, 
And then pursue with swords." 
213. many were. 219. within went. 



Quhilk manie hurt, and some they slew, 
Of horss and gentillmen. 

Huntlie maid haist to succour him, 

And charged furiouslie, 
Quhair manie menis sight grew dim, 235 

The shottis so thick did flie ; 
Quhilk gart right manie doghtie die, 

Of some on euerie syd ; 
Argyll with his tald hoste did flie, 

Bot Macklenne did abyd. 240 

Macklene had one ane habershoune, 

Ilk lord had one ane jack ; 
Togidder feirc[e]lie are they rune, 

With manie a gunes crack. 
The splenderis of thair spearis they break, 245 

Flewe up into the air, 
Quhilk boore doune maney on thair back, 

Againe ros neuer mair. 

" Alace, I sie ane sore sight," 265 

Said the Laird of Macklenne ; 
" Our feible folkis is tenne the flight, 

249-56. Then some men said, " We will be sure 

And take Maclean by course ; 250 

Go to, for we are men anew 

To bear him down by force." 
But noble Errol had remorse, 

And said, " It is not best, 
For tho Argyle has got the worst, ' S5 

Let him gang with the rest. 


And left me myne allaine. 
Now must I file, or els be slaine, 

Since they will not returne ; " 
With that he ran ouer ane dyne, 

Endlongis ane lytill burne. 

Then after great Argylles hoste 

Some horssmen tuik the chess, 
Quha turned their backes for all thair bost, 

Contrair the fooles say[s]. 
They cried " oh," with manie " alace," 

Bot neuir for mercie sought ; 
Thairfoir the Gordones gaue no grace, 

Becaus they craved it nought. 

Then some guidman perseiued sharpe, 

With Erroll and Huntlie, 
And thai with [a] capitane did carpe, 

Quhais name was Ogilvie. 
He sayis, " Gentillmen, lat see 

Who maniest slaine slaydis ; 
Save non this day ze may gar die, 

For pleadis, nor ransome paynes." 

257-64. " What greater honour could ye wish 

In deeds of chivalry, 
Or brave victory than this, 

Where one has chac'd thrice three? 
Therefore, good fellows, let him be ; 

He'll die before he yield ; 
For he with his small company 

Bade langest in the field." 
281. perceiued. 286, 288. corrupted. 


Lyk hartes, up howes and hillis thei ranne, 

Quhair horsmen might not winn : 290 

" Reteir againe," quoth Huntlie then, 

" Quhair we did first begin. 
Heir lyes manie carved skinnes, 

With manie ane bloodie beard, 
For anie helpe, with litell dinne, 295 

Sail rotte aboue the eard." 

When they cam to the hill againe, 

The sett doune one thair knees, 
Syne thanked God that they had slaine 

Soe manie enimies. aoo 

They ros befor Argylles eyis, 

Maid Capitane Ker ane knight; 
Syne bed among the dead bodies, 

Whill they war out of sight. 

This deid so doughtilie was done, 

As I hard trewe men tell, 
Upone ane Thursday afternoone, 

St. Franecis ewill befell. 

305-12. Now I have you already tauld, 

Huntly and Errol's men 
Could scarce be thirteen hundred called, 

The truth if ye would ken. 
And yet Argyle his thousands ten 

Were they that took the race, 
And tho that they were nine to ane, 

They caused [them] take the chace. 
308. he. 309. has. 324. should be ere, or vigil. 


Guid Auchindoune was slaine himself, 
With uther seven in battell ; 

So was the Laird of Lochinzell, 
Grate pitie was to tell. 


THIS ballad is taken from Maidment's North Coun- 
trie Garland, p. 15. There is another version in 
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 136 
(The Death of John Seton). 

John Seton of Pitmedden, a young and brave 
cavalier, was shot through the middle by a cannon 
ball, during the skirmish at the Bridge of Dee, while 
engaged, under the Viscount of Aboyne, in resisting 
the advance of Montrose upon the town of Aberdeen, 
in June, 1639. It was the hard fate of Aberdeen to 
suffer from the arms of Montrose, first, when he was 
general of the Covenanters, and again while he was 

313-20. Sae Argyle's boast it was in vain, 

(He thought sure not to tyne) 
That if he durst cum to the plain, 

He would gar every nine 
Of his lay hold upon ilk man 

Huntly and Errol had: 
But yet for all his odds he ran 

To tell how ill he sped. 
319. fled. 


lieutenant for the King. The murder and pillage 
perpetrated in the town by the Irish after the defeat 
of Lord Burleigh, in 1644, have been made the sub 
ject of violent reproach by his enemies, but it may 
perhaps be said, that for all that exceeded the usual 
horrors of war, the heroic commander was not respon 
sible. In Buchan's version of the present ballad, the 
clemency shown by Montrose on taking possession of 
the city in 1639 is commemorated in three stanzas 
worthy of preservation. The Covenanters were " re 
solved to have sacked it orderly." 

Out it speeks the gallant Montrose, 

(Grace on his fair body!) 
" We winna burn the bonny burgh, 

We'll even lat it be." 

Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose, 

" Your purpose I will break ; 
We winna burn the bonny burgh, 

We'll never build its make. 

" I see the women and their children 

Climbing the craigs sae hie ; 
We'll sleep this night hi the bonny burgh, 

And even lat it be." 

UPON the eighteenth day of June, 

A dreary day to see, 
The Southern lords did pitch their camp 

Just at the bridge of Dee. 
Bonny John Seton of Pitmeddin, 

A bold baron was he, 


He made his testament ere he went out, 
The wiser man was he. 

He left his land to his young son, 

His lady her dowry, 
A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean, 

Yet on the nurse's knee. 

Then out came his lady fair, 

A tear into her e'e ; 
Says " Stay at home, my own good lord, 

O stay at home with me ! " 

He looked over his left shoulder, 
Cried, " Souldiers, follow me ! " 

O then she looked in his face, . < 
An angry woman was she : 

" God send me back my steed again, 
But ne'er let me see thee ! " 

His name was Major Middleton 
That manned the bridge of Dee ; 

His name was Colonel Henderson 
That let the cannons flee. 

His name was Major Middleton 
That manned the bridge of Dee ; 

And his name was Colonel Henderson 
That dung Pitmeddin in three. 

Some rode on the black and gray, 
And some rode on the brown, 


But the bonny John Seton 
Lay gasping on the ground. 

Then bye there comes a false Forbes, 35 

Was riding from Driminere ; 
Says " Here there lies a proud Seton, 

This day they ride the rear." 

Cragievar said to his men, 

" You may play on your shield ; 40 

For the proudest Seton in all the Ian' 

This day lies on the field." 

" O spoil him, spoil him," cried Cragievar, 

" Him spoiled let me see ; 
For on my word," said Cragievar, 45 

" He had no good will at me." 

They took from him his armour clear, 

His sword, likewise his shield ; 
Yea they have left him naked there 

Upon the open field. so 

The Highland men, they're clever men 

At handling sword and shield, 
But yet they are too naked men 

To stay in battle field. 

The Highland men are clever men as 

At handling sword or gun, 

39. Sir William Forbes of Cragievar. 
55-62. The Highlanders were thrown into great conster 
nation by cannon shot, to which they were not accustomed. 


But yet they are too naked men 
To bear the cannon's rung. 

For a cannon's roar in a summer night 
Is like thunder in the air ; 

There's not a man in Highland dress 
Can face the cannon's fire. 


Ritson's Scottish Songs, ii. 40. Johnson's Museum, p. 502. 

THIS ballad, very popular in Scotland, was long 
sold on the stalls before it was received into the col 
lections. A glance will show that it has at best been 
very imperfectly transmitted by oral tradition. In 
fact, the Ettrick Shepherd seems to be right in main 
taining that two widely separated events are here 
jumbled together. The first five stanzas apparently 
refer to an action in May, 1690, when Sir Thomas 
Livingston surprised fifteen hundred Highlanders in 
their beds at Cromdale, and the remainder to the lost 
battle of Auldern, where Montrose, with far inferior 
forces, defeated Sir John Hurry with prodigious 
slaughter, on the 4th of May, 1645. Mr. Stenhouse 

At the Raid of Stonehaven, just previous to the affair of 
the Bridge of Dee, the first volley made them wheel about 
and fly in disorder. They declared that they could not abide 
" the musket's mother." 


states, indeed, that after that imprudent division of 
the army of the Covenant which opened the way to 
the disaster at Auldern, Hurry surprised and routed 
at Cromdale a body of Highlanders under the lion- 
hearted Allaster Macdonald. But this check appears, 
by his own language, to have been too slight an affair 
to call forth such verses as those with which the ballad 
begins. See Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 157, Johnson's 
Museum (1853), iv. 428. 

As I came in by Achendown, 
A little wee bit frae the town, 
When to the highlands I was bown, 
To view the haws of Cromdale, 

I met a man in tartan trews, 

I spier'd at him what was the news : 
Quoth he, " The highland army rues 
That e'er we came to Cromdale." 

" We were in bed, sir, every man, 

When the English host upon us came ; 10 

A bloody battle then began 

Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

" The English horse they were so rude, 
They bath'd their hoofs in highland blood, 
But our brave clans they boldly stood, is 

Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

" But alas ! we could no longer stay, 
For o'er the hills we came away, 


And sore we do lament the day 

That e'er we came to Cromdale." 

Thus the great Montrose did say, 
" Can you direct the nearest way ? 
For I will o'er the hills this day, 

And view the haws of Cromdale." 

" Alas, my lord, you're not so strong ; 
You scarcely have two thousand men, 
And there's twenty thousand on the plain, 
Stand rank and file on Cromdale." 

Thus the great Montrose did say, 
" I say, direct the nearest way, 
For I will o'er the hills this day, 

And see the haws of Cromdale." 

They were at dinner, every man, 
When great Montrose upon them came ; 
A second battle then began 

Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

The Grants, Mackenzies, and M'Kys, 
Soon as Montrose they did espy, 
O then they fought most vehemently, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

The M'Donalds, they return'd again, 
The Camerons did their standard join, 
M'Intosh play'd a bonny game, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 


The M'Gregors fought like lyons bold, 45 

MThersons, none could them controul, 
M'Lauchlins fought like loyal souls, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

[M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neals, 
So boldly as they took the field, *o 

And made their enemies to yield, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale.] 

The Gordons boldly did advance, 
The Fraziers [fought] with sword and lance, 
The Grahams they made their heads to dance, sa 
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 

The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose, 
So boldly set upon their foes, 
And brought them down with highland blows, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale a 

Of twenty thousand Cromwells men 
Five hundred went to Aberdeen, 
The rest of them lyes on the plain, 
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 



Two months after the defeat of Sir John Hurry at 
Auldern, Montrose utterly destroyed the other divis 
ion of the covenanting army, under General Baillie, at 
Alford on the Don. On the 2d of July, the King's 
forces marched from Drumminor, and crossed the 
Don to Alford, Montrose and the Earl of Aboyne 
taking up their quarters in the castle of Asloun. 
Baillie, who was now in pursuit of the royalists, 
moved southward, and encamped on the day just 
mentioned, at Lesly. The next morning he crossed 
the river (halting on the way near a farm called 
Mill Hill), whereupon the battle took place. Mon 
trose dearly purchased this new victory by the loss 
of Lord George Gordon, who commanded the right 
wing, not the left. 

These fragmentary verses are from The Thistle of 
Scotland, p. 68. 

THE Graham[s and] Gordons of Aboyne 

Camp'd at Drumminor bog ; 
At the castle there they lay all night, 

And left them scarce a hog. 

The black Baillie, that auld dog, 

Appeared on our right ; 
We quickly raise up frae the bog, 

To Alford march'd that night. 


We lay at Lesly all night, 

They camped at Asloun ; M 

And up we raise afore daylight, 

To ding the beggars doun. 

Before we was in battle rank, 

We was anent Mill Hill ; 
I wat full weel they gar'd us rue, * 

We gat fighting our fill. 

They hunted us and dunted us, 

They drave us here and there, 
Untill three hundred of our men 

Lay gasping in their lair. ao 

The Earl of Mar the right wing guided, 

The colours stood him by ; 
Lord George Gordon the left wing guided, 

Who well the sword could ply. 

There came a ball shot frae the west a 

That shot him through the back ; 
Although he was our enemy, 

We grieved for his wreck. 

We cannot say 'twas his own men, 

But yet it came that way ; a 

In Scotland there was not a match 

To that man where he lay. 

15. fell. 



Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 203 

" THE insurrection commemorated and magnified 
in the following ballad, as indeed it has been in some 
histories, was, in itself, no very important affair. It 
began in Dumfries-shire, where Sir James Turner, a 
soldier of fortune, was employed to levy the arbitrary 
fines imposed for not attending the Episcopal churches. 
The people rose, seized his person, disarmed his sol 
diers, and, having continued together, resolved to 
march towards Edinburgh, expecting to be joined by 
their friends in that quarter. In this they were disap 
pointed; and, being now diminished to half their 
numbers, they drew up on the Pentland Hills, at a 
place called Rullien Green. They were commanded 
by one Wallace ; and here they awaited the approach 
of General Dalziel, of Binns ; who, having marched 
to Calder, to meet them on the Lanark road, and 
finding, that, by passing through Collington, they had 
got to the other side of the hills, cut through the 
mountains and approached them. Wallace showed 
both spirit and judgment : he drew up his men in a 
very strong situation, and withstood two charges of 
DalziePs cavalry ; but, upon the third shock, the 
insurgents were broken and utterly dispersed. There 
was very little slaughter, as the cavalry of Dalziel 
were chiefly gentlemen, who pitied their oppressed 
and misguided countrymen. There were about fifty 
killed, and as many made prisoners. The battle was 


fought on the 28th November, 1666 ; a day still 
observed by the scattered remnant of the Cameronian 
sect, who regularly hear a field-preaching upon the 
field of battle. 

" I am obliged for a copy of the ballad to Mr. Liv 
ingston of Airds, who took it down from the recitation 
of an old woman residing on his estate. 

" The gallant Grahams, mentioned in the text, are 
Graham of Claverhouse's horse." SCOTT. 

THE gallant Grahams cam from the west, 

Wi' their horses black as ony craw ; 
The Lothian lads they marched fast, 

To be at the B-hyns o' Gallowa. 

Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle, 5 

The lads they marched mony a mile ; 
Souters and tailors unto them drew, 
Their covenants for to renew. 

The Whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks, 
Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs ; 
But aye sinsyne they do repent 
The renewing o' their Covenant. 

At the Mauchline muir, where they were review'd, 
Ten thousand men in armour show'd ; 
But, ere they came to the Brockie's burn, i 

The half of them did back return. 

General Dalyell, as I hear tell, 
Was our lieutenant-general ; 
YOL. VII. 16 


And Captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill, 

Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill. 20 

General Dalyell held to the hill, 
Asking at them what was their will ; 
And who gave them this protestation, 
To rise in arms against the nation ? 

" Although we all in armour be, 25 

It's not against his majesty ; 

Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid, 

But wi' the country we'll conclude." 

" Lay down your arms, in the King's name, 
And ye shall a' gae safely hame ; " 30 

But they a' cried out wi' ae consent, 
" We'll fight for a broken Covenant." 

" O well," says he, " since it is so, 

A wilfu' man never wanted woe : " 

He then gave a sign unto his lads, 35 

And they drew up in their brigades. 

The trumpets blew, and the colours flew, 

And every man to his armour drew ; 

The Whigs were never so much aghast, 

As to see their saddles toom sae fast. 

The cleverest men stood in the van, 
The Whigs they took their heels and ran ; 
But such a raking was never seen, 
As the raking o' the Rullien Green 



SEVERAL companies, principally Irish, belonging 
to the army of King James, and stationed at Reading, 
had quitted the town in consequence of a report that 
the Prince of Orange was advancing in that direction 
with the main body of his forces. On the departure 
of the garrison, the people of Reading at once invited 
the Prince to take possession of the place, and secure 
them against the Irish. But the King's troops, having 
learned that it was only a small detachment of Wil 
liam's soldiers, and not the main army, by whom they 
were threatened, returned and reoccupied their post. 
Here they were attacked by two hundred and fifty 
of the Dutch, and though numbering six hundred, 
were soon put to flight, with the loss of their colors and 
of fifty men, the assailants losing but five. This skir 
mish occurred on Sunday, the 9th of December, 

This piece is extracted from Croker's Historical 
Songs of Ireland, p. 14, Percy Society, vol. i., and 
was there given from a collection of printed ballads in 
the British Museum. The burden seems to be derived 
from the following stanza of Lilli burlero : 

" Now, now de heretics all go down, 

Lilli, $c. 

By Chreist and St. Patrick de nation's our own, 
' LiUi, $c. 




Five hundred papishes came there, 

To make a final end 
Of all the town, in time of prayer, 

But God did them defend. 

To the tune of Lilli borlero. Licensed according to 
order. Printed for J. D. in the year 1688. 

We came into brave Reading by night, 

Five hundred horsemen proper and tall ; 
Yet not resolved fairly to fight, 

But for to cut the throats of them all. 
Most of us was Irish Papists, 

Who vowed to kill, then plunder the town ; 
We this never doubted, but soon we were routed, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 

In Reading town we ne'er went to bed ; 

Every soul there mounted his horse, 10 

Hoping next day to fill them with dread ; 

Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross, 
We most shamefully was routed : 

Fortune was pleased to give us a frown, 
And blasted our glory : I'll tell you the story, is 

By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down. 

We thought to slay them all in their sleep, 
But by my shoul, were never the near, 


The hereticks their guard did so keep, 

Which put us in a trembling fear. ao 

We concluded something further, 

To seize the churches all in the town, 
With killing and slaying, while they were a praying, 

But we were routed, and soon run down. 

Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch as 

Every man, nay, woman and child ; 
This in our hearts we freely did hatch, 

Vowing to make a prey of the spoil. 
But we straightways was prevented, 

When we did hope for fame and renown ; 90 

In less than an hour we [are] forced to secure ; 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down. 

We were resolved Reading to clear, 

Having in hand the nourishing sword ; 
The bloody sceen was soon to appear, as 

For we did then but wait for the word : 
While the ministers were preaching, 

We were resolved to have at their gown ; 
But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 40 

Just as we all were fit to fall on, 

In came the Dutch with fury and speed ; 
And amongst them there was not a man, 

But what was rarely mounted indeed ; 
And rid up as fierce as tygers, 

Knitting their brows, they on us did frown ; 
Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. 


They never stood to use many words, 

But in all haste up to us they flocked, 50 

In their right hands their flourishing swords, 

And their left carbines ready cock'd. 
We were forced to fly before them, 

Thorow the lanes and streets of the town ; 
While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter, M 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. 

Then being fairly put to the rout, 

Hunted and drove before 'urn like dogs, 
Our captain bid us then face about, 

But we wisht for our Irish bogs. eo 

Having no great mind for fighting, 

The Dutch did drive us thorow the town ; 
Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 

We threw away our swords and carbines, 66 

Pistols and cloaks lay strow'd on the lands ; 
Cutting off boots for running, uds-doyns, 

One pair of heels was worth two pair of hands. 
Then we called on sweet St. Coleman, 

Hoping he might our victory crown ; 70 

But Dutchmen pursuing poor Teagues to our ruin, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 

Never was Teagues in so much distress, 
As the whole world may well understand ; 

When we came here, we thought to possess rs 

Worthy estates of houses and land : 

69. Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his 
participation in the Popish Plot. CKOKER. 


But we find 'tis all a story, 

Fortune is pleased on us to frown : 
Instead of our riches, we stink in our breeches, 

By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down, so 

They call a thing a three-legged mare, 

Where they will fit each neck with a nooze, 
Then with our beads to say our last prayer, 

After all this to die in our shoes. 
Thence we pack to purgatory ; 85 

For us let all the Jesuits pray ; 
Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creatures 

Would have you to follow the self-same way. 


THE story of the siege of Londonderry, " the most 
memorable in the annals of the British isles," is elo 
quently told in the twelfth chapter of Macaulay's 
History of England. It lasted one hundred and five 
days, from the middle of April to the first of August 
(1689). During that time the garrison had been 
reduced from about seven thousand men to about 
three thousand. Famine and pestilence slew more 
than the fire of the enemy. In the last month of the 
siege, there was scarcely any thing left to eat in the 
city but salted hides and tallow. The price of a dog's 
paw was five shillings and sixpence, and rats that had 


fed on the bodies of the dead were eagerly hunted 
and slain. The courage and self-devotion of the de 
fenders, animated by a lofty public spirit and sus 
tained by religious zeal, were at last rewarded by a 
glorious triumph, and will never cease to be cele 
brated with pride and enthusiasm by the Protestants 
of Ireland. 

The ballad is here given as printed in Croker's 
Historical Songs of Ireland, p. 46, from a black letter 
copy in the British Museum. The whole title runs 
thus : Undaunted Londonderry ; or, the Victorious Pro 
testants' constant success against the proud French, 
and Irish Forces. To the Tune of Lilli Borlero. 

Protestant boys, both valliant and stout, 

Fear not the strength and frown of Rome, 
Thousands of them are put to the rout, 

Brave Londonderry tells 'um their doom. 
For their cannons roar like thunder, 5 

Being resolved the town to maintain 
For William and Mary, still brave Londonderry 

Will give the proud French and Tories their bane. 

Time after time, with powder and balls, 

Protestant souls they did 'um salute, 10 

That before Londonderry's stout walls 

Many are slain and taken to boot. 
Nay, their noble Duke of Berwick, 

Many reports, is happily tane, 

13. In a sally which was made by the garrison towards 
the end of April, the Duke of Berwick is said to have received 
a slight wound in the back. 


Where still they confine him, and will not resign him, 
Till they have given the Tories their bane. w 

Into the town their bombs they did throw, 

Being resolved to fire the same, 
Hoping thereby to lay it all low, 

Could they but raise it into a flame. 20 

But the polititious "Walker, 

By an intreague did quail them again, 
And blasted the glory of French, Teague, and Tory ; 

By policy, boys, he gave them their bane. 

Thundering stones they laid on the wall, 25 

Ready against the enemy came, 
With which they vow'd the Tories to mawl, 

Whene'er they dare approach but the same. 
And another sweet invention, 

The which in brief I reckon to name ; a> 

A sharp, bloody slaughter did soon follow after, 

Among the proud French, and gave them their bane. 

Stubble and straw in parcels they laid, 

The which they straightways kindled with speed ; 
By this intreague the French was betrayed, 35 

Thinking the town was fired indeed. 
Then they placed their scaling ladders, 

And o'er the walls did scour amain ; 
Yet strait, to their wonder, they were cut in sunder, 

Thus Frenchmen and Tories met with their bane. *i 

21. The Eev. George Walker, rector of the parish of Donagh- 
more, the hero of the defence. His statue now stands on a 
lofty pillar, rising from a bastion which for a long time sus 
tained the heaviest fire of the besiegers. 


Suddenly then they opened their gate, 

Sallying forth with vigor and might ; 
And, as the truth I here may relate, 

Protestant boys did valliantly fight, 
Taking many chief commanders, 

While the sharp fray they thus did maintain, 
With vigorous courses, they routed their forces, 

And many poor Teagues did meet with their bane. 

While with their blood the cause they have sealed, 

Heaven upon their actions did frown ; so 

Protestants took the spoil of the field, 

Cannons full five they brought to the town. 
With a lusty, large, great mortar, 

Thus they returned with honor and gain, 
While Papists did scour from Protestant power, 56 

As fearing they all should suffer their bane. 

In a short time we hope to arrive 

With a vast army to Ireland, 
And the affairs so well we'll contrive 

That they shall ne'er have power to stand eo 

Gainst King William and Queen Mary, 

Who on the throne does flourish and reign ; 
We'll down with the faction that make the distraction, 

And give the proud French and Tories their bane. 



From Johnson's Museum, p. 105. 

GRAHAMIUS notabilis coegerat montanos, 
Qui clypeis et gladiis fugarunt Anglicanos ; 
Fugerant Vallicolaa, atque Puritani, 
Cacavere Batavi et Cameroniani. 
Grahamius mirabilis, fortissimus Alcides, 
Cujus regi fuerat intemerata fides, 
Agiles monticolas marte inspiravit, 
Et duplicatum numerum hostium profligavit 

No bills apparuit Fermilodunensis, 
Cujus in rebelles stringebatur ensis j 
Nobilis et sanguine, nobilior virtute, 
Regi devotissimus intus et in cute. 
Pitcunus heroicus, Hector Scoticanus, 
Cui mens fidelis fuerat et invicta manus, 
Capita rebellium, is excerebravit, 
Hostes unitissimos ille dimicavit. 

Glengarius magnanimus atque bellicosus, 
Functus ut Eneas, pro rege animosus, 
Fortis atque strenuus, hostes expugnavit, 
Sanguine rebellium campos coloravit. 
Surrexerat fideliter Donaldus Insulanus, 
Pugnaverat viriliter, cuni copiis Skyanis, 
Pater atque filii non dissimularunt, 
Sed pro rege proprio unanimes pugnarunt. 

Macleanius, circumdatus tribo martiali, 
Semper, devinctissimus familias regali, 


Fortiter pugnaverat, more atavorum, 
Deinde dissipaverat turmas Batavorum. 
Strenuus Lochielius, multo Camerone, 
Hostes ense peremit, et abrio pugione ; 
Istos et intrepidos Oreo dedicavit, 
Impedimenta hostium Blaro reportavit 

Macneillius de Bara, Glencous Kepochanus, 
Ballechinus, cum fratre, Stuartus Apianus, 
Pro Jacobo Septimo fortiter gessere, 
Pugiles fortissimi, feliciter vicere. 
Canonicus clarissimus Gallovidianus, 
Acer et indomitus, consilioque sanus, 
Ibi dux adfuerat, spectabilis persona, 
Nam pro tuenda patria, hunc peperit Bellona. 

Ducalidoni dominum spreverat gradivus, 

Nobilis et juvenis, fortis et activus : 

Nam cum nativum principem exulem audiret, 

Redit ex Hungaria ut regi inserviret. 

Ulic et adfuerat tutor Ranaldorum, 

Qui strenue pugnaverat cum copiis virorum ; 

Et ipse Capetaneus, aetate puerili, 

Intentus est ad proelium, spiritu virili. 

Glenmoristonus junior, optimus bellator 
Subito jam factus, hactenus venator, 
Perduelles Whiggeos ut pecora prostravit, 
Ense et fulmineo Mackaium fugavit. 
Regibus et legibus, Scotici constantes, 
Vos clypeis et gladiis pro principe pugnantes, 
Vestra est victoria, vestra est et gloria, 
In cantis et historia perpes est memorial 



THIS momentous battle was fought on the 1st of 
July, 1690. James had a strong position and thirty 
thousand men, two thirds of whom were a worthless 
rabble. William had thirty-six thousand splendid 
soldiers. The loss on neither side was great. Of 
James's troops there fell fifteen hundred, the flower 
of his army ; of the conqueror's not more than five, 
but with them the great Duke of Schomberg. The 
present version of this ballad is from Croker's His 
torical Songs of Ireland, p. 60, given from a MS. copy 
in the editor's possession. 

JULY the first, in Oldbridge town, 

There was a grievous battle, 
Where many a man lay on the ground, 

By the cannons that did rattle, 
Bang James he pitched his tents between s 

The lines for to retire ; 
But King William threw his bomb-balls in, 

And set them all on fire. 

Thereat enraged, they vow'd revenge, 

Upon King William's forces ; 10 

1. The Dutch guards first entered the river Boyne at a 
ford opposite to the little village of Oldbridge. CROKER. 


And often did cry vehemently, 

That they would stop their courses. 

A bullet from the Irish came, 

Which grazed King William's arm ; 

They thought his majesty was slain, 
Yet it did him little harm. 

Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care, 

His king would often caution 
To shun the spot where bullets hot 

Retain'd their rapid motion. 
But William said " He don't deserve 

The name of Faith's defender, 
That would not venture life and limb 

To make a foe surrender." 

When we the Boyne began to cross, 

The enemy they descended ; 
But few of our brave men were lost, 

So stoutly we defended. 
The horse was the first that marched o'er, 

The foot soon followed a'ter, 
But brave Duke Schomberg was no more, 

By venturing over the water. 

When valiant Schomberg he was slain, 

King William thus accosted 
His warlike men, for to march on, 

And he would be the foremost. 
" Brave boys," he said, " be not dismayed 

For the losing of one commander; 
For God will be our king this day, 

And I'll be general under." 


Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross, 

To give our enemies battle ; 
Our cannon, to our foes great cost, 

Like thundering claps did rattle, 
In majestic mien our prince rode o'er, 43 

His men soon followed a'ter ; 
With blows and shouts put our foes to the route, 

The day we crossed the water. 

The Protestants of Drogheda 

Have reasons to be thankful, so 

That they were not to bondage brought, 

They being but a handful. 
First to the Tholsel they were brought, 

And tied at Milmount a'ter, 
But brave King William set them free, 55 

By venturing over the water. 

The cunning French, near to Duleek 

Had taken up their quarters, 
And fenced themselves on every side, 

Still waiting for new orders. eo 

54. "After the battle of the Boyne, the Popish garrison of 
Drogheda took the Protestants out of prison, into which they 
had thrown them, and carried them to the Mount; where 
they expected the cannon would play, if King William's 
forces besieged the town. They tied them together, and set 
them to receive the shot ; but their hearts failed them who 
were to defend the place, and so it pleased God to preserve 
the poor Protestants." Memoirs of Ireland, <fc., cited by 

67. " When, in the course of the day, the battle approached 
James's position on the hill of Donore, the warlike prince 
retired to a more secure distance at Duleek, where he soon 


But in the dead time of the night, 

They set the field on fire ; 
And long before the morning light, 

To Dublin they did retire. 

Then said King William to his men, 65 

After the French departed, 
" I'm glad," said he, " that none of ye 

Seemed to be faint-hearted. 
So sheath your swords, and rest awhile, 

In time we'll follow a'ter : " TO 

These words he uttered with a smile, 

The day he crossed the water. 

Come, let us all, with heart and voice, 

Applaud our lives' defender, 
Who at the Boyne his valour shewed, 7s 

And made his foes surrender, 
To God above the praise we'll give, 

Both now and ever a'ter, 
And bless the glorious memory 79 

Of King William that crossed the Boyne water. 

put himself at the head of his French allies, and led the 
retreat; the King and the French coming off without a scar." 
O'Driscol, cited by Croker. 



Who liv'd in Cow-Cross, near West-Smithfield ; who, chang 
ing her apparel, entered herself on board in quality of a 
soldier, and sailed to Ireland, where she valiantly behaved 
herself, particularly at the siege of Cork, where she lost 
her toes, and received a mortal wound in her body, of 
which she since died in her return to London. 

From Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, v. 8. 

CORK was taken September 27-29, 1690, by the 
Duke (then Earl) of Marlborough, with the coopera 
tion of the Duke of Wirtemberg. The Duke of 
Grafton, then serving as a volunteer, was mortally 
wounded while advancing to the assault. Croker sug 
gests that this lamentation for the heroine of Cow- 
Cross, " the Mary Ambree of her age," was one of 
the many indirect efforts made to bring the military 
skill of Marlborough into popular notice. 

LET the females attend 

To the lines which are penn'd, 

For here I shall give a relation 
Of a young marry 'd wife, 
Who did venture her life, 5 

For a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation. 

She her husband did leave, 
And did likewise receive 

Her arms, and on board she did enter, 
And right valiantly went, 10 

With a resolution bent 

To the ocean, the ocean, her life there to venture. 

VOL. VII. 17 


Yet of all the ship's crew, 
Not a seaman that knew 

They then had a woman so near 'em ; is 

On the ocean so deep 
She her council did keep, 

Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did 
fear 'em. 

She was valiant and bold, 

And would not be controul'd 20 

By any that dare to offend her ; 
If a quarrel arose, 
She would give him dry blows, 

And the captain, the captain did highly commend 

For he took her to be 25 

Then of no mean degree, 

A gentleman's son, or a squire ; 
With a hand white and fair, 
There was none could compare, 

Which the captain, the captain did often admire. 

On the Irish shore, 3i 

Where the cannons did roar, 

With many stout lads she was landed; 
There her life to expose, 
She lost two of her toes, ss 

And in battle, in battle was daily commended. 

Under Grafton she fought 
Like a brave hero stout, 
And made the proud Tories retire ; 


She in field did appear 

With a heart void of fear, 

And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give 

While the battering balls 
Did assault the strong walls 

Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded, 

She did bravely advance 
Where by unhappy chance 

This young female, young female, alas ! she was 

At the end of the fray 

Still she languishing lay, w 

Then over the ocean they brought her, 
To her own native shore : 
Now they ne'er knew before 

That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter. 

What she long had conceal'd 55 

Now at length she reveal'd, 

That she was a woman that ventur'd ; 
Then to London with care 
She did straitways repair, 

But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd. eo 

When her parents beheld, 
They with sorrow was fill'd, 

For why, they did dearly adore her ; 
In her grave now she lies, 
Tis not watery eyes, es 

No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her, 




(See p. 156. From Eitson's Scottish Songs, ii. 67.) 

W. PRAY came you here the fight to shun, 

Or keep the sheep with me, man ? 
Or was you at the Sheriff-moor, 
And did the battle see, man ? 

Pray tell whilk of the parties won ? 

For well I wat I saw them run, 
Both south and north, when they begun, 
To pell and mell, and kill and fell, 
With muskets snell, and pistols knell, 
And some to hell 

Did flee, man. 

T. But, my dear Will, I kenna still, 

Whilk o' the twa did lose, man ; 
For well I wat they had good skill 

To set upo' their foes, man : w 

The red-coats they are train'd, you see, 
The clans always disdain to flee, 
Wha then should gain the victory ? 
But the Highland race, all in a brace, 
With a swift pace, to the Whigs disgrace, 
Did put to chace 

Their foes, man. 


W. Now how diel, Tarn, can this be true ? 

I saw the chace gae north, man. 
T. But well I wat they did pursue 25 

Them even unto Forth, man. 

Frae Dumblain they ran in my own sight, 
And got o'er the bridge with all their might, 
And those at Stirling took their flight ; 

Gif only ye had been wi' me, so 

You had seen them flee, of each degree, 
For fear to die 

Wi' sloth, man. 

W. My sister Kate came o'er the hill, 

Wi' crowdie unto me, man ; ss 

She swore she saw them running still 
Frae Perth unto Dundee, man. 
The left wing gen'ral had na skill, 
The Angus lads had no good will 
That day their neighbours blood to spill ; 40 

For fear by foes that they should lose 
Their cogues of brose, all crying woes 
Yonder them goes, 

D'ye see, man ? 

T. I see but few like gentlemen 

Aim an g yon frighted crew, man ; 
I fear my Lord Panmure be slain, 
Or that he's ta'en just now, man : 
For tho' his officers obey, 

His cowardly commons run away, so 

For fear the red-coats them should slay ; 
The sodgers hail make their hearts fail ; 


See how they scale, and turn their tail, 
And rin to flail 

And plow, man. 

W. But now brave Angus comes again 

Into the second fight, man ; 
They swear they'll either dye or gain, 
No foes shall them affright, man : 

Argyle's best forces they'll withstand, eo 

And boldly fight them sword in hand, 
Give them a general to command, 
A man of might, that will but fight, 
And take delight to lead them right, 
And ne'er desire 65 

The flight, man. 

But Flandrekins they have no skill 

To lead a Scotish force, man ; 
Their motions do our courage spill, 

And put us to a loss, man. 70 

You'll hear of us far better news, 
When we attack like Highland trews, 
To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise, 
Till the field, tho' braid, be all o'erspread, 
But coat or plaid, wi' corpse that's dead 75 
In their cold bed, 

That's moss, man. 

T. Twa gen'rals frae the field did run, 
Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man ; 

67. By Flanderkins are meant Lieutenant-General Fander- 
beck and Colonels Rantzaw and Cromstrom. HOGG. 


They cry'd and run grim death to shun, so 

Those heroes of the North, man ; 
They're fitter far for book or pen, 
Than under Mars to lead on men ; 
Ere they came there they might well ken 

That female hands could ne'er gain lands ; 85 
'Tis Highland brands that countermands 
Argathlean bands 

Frae Forth, man. 

W. The Camerons scow'r'd as they were mad, 

Lifting their neighbours cows, man, 90 

M'Kenzie and the Stewart fled, 
Without phil'beg or trews, man : 

Had they behav'd like Donald's core, 
And kill'd all those came them before, 
Their king had gone to France no more : 93 

Then each Whig saint wad soon repent, 
And strait recant his covenant, 
And rent 

It at the news, man. 

T. M'Gregors they far off did stand, 100 

Badenach and Athol too, man ; 
I hear they wanted the command, 
For I believe them true, man. 

Perth, Fife, and Angus, wi' their horse, 
Stood motionless, and some did worse, ws 

For, tho' the red-coats went them cross, 
They did conspire for to admire 
Clans run and fire, left wings retire, 
While rights antire 

Pursue, man. no 


W. But Scotland has not much to say, 

For such a fight as this is, 
Where baith did fight, baith run away ; 
The devil take the miss is 

That every officer was not slain iu 

That run that day, and was not ta'en, 
Either flying from or to Dumblain ; 
When Whig and Tory, in their 'fury,' 
Strove for glory, to our sorrow, 
The sad story 120 

Hush is. 

UP AND WAR THEM A', WILLIE. See p. 156. 

FROM Herd's Scotish Songs, ii. 234. The same in 
Ritson's Scotish Songs, ii. 73. Burns furnished a 
somewhat different version to Johnson's Museum 
(p. 195, also in Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, ii. 29), 
flrhich he obtained from one Tom Neil, a carpenter in 
Edinburgh, who was famous for his singing of Scottish 
songs. The title and burden to this version is Up 
and warn a', Willie, an allusion, says Burns, to the 
crantara, or warning of a Highland clan to arms, 
which the Lowlanders, not understanding, have cor 
rupted. There is another copy in Hogg's Jacobite 
Relics, ii. 18, which is nearly the same as the fol 

When the Earl of Mar first raised his standard, 
and proclaimed the Chevalier, the ornamental ball on 
the top of the staff fell off, and the superstitious High- 


landers interpreted the circumstance as ominous of ill 
for their cause. This is the incident referred to in 
the third stanza. 

WHEN we went to the field of war, 
And to the weapon-shaw, Willie, 
With true design to stand our ground, 

And chace our faes awa', Willie, 

Lairds and lords came there bedeen, 5 

And vow gin they were pra', Willie : 

Up and war 'em a', Willie, 

War 'em, war 'em a', Willie. 

And when our army was drawn up, 

The bravest e'er I saw, Willie, 10 

We did not doubt to rax the rout, 
And win the day and a', Willie ; 

Pipers play'd frae right to left, 

"Fy, fourugh Whigs awa'/' Willie. 

Up and war, fyc. is 

But when our standard was set up, 
So fierce the wind did bla', Willie, 

The golden knop down from the top 
Unto ground did fa', Willie : 

Then second-sighted Sandy said, 20 

" We'll do nae good at a', Willie." 
Up and war, Sfc. 

When bra'ly they attack'd our left, 
Our front, and flank, and a', Willie, 

Our bald commander on the green, 

Our faes their left did ca', Willie, 25 


And there the greatest slaughter made 
That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie. 
Up and war, fyc. 

First when they saw our Highland inob, 
They swore they'd slay us a', Willie ; 

And yet ane fyl'd his breiks for fear, 
And so did rin awa', Willie : 

We drave him back to Bonnybrigs, 
Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie. 
Up and war, fyc. 

But when their gen'ral view'd our lines, 
And them in order saw, Willie, 

He straight did march into the town, 
And back his left did draw, Willie : 

Thus we taught them the better gate, 
To get a better fa', Willie. 
Up and war, <;. 

And then we rally'd on the hills, 

And bravely up did draw, Willie ; 
But gin ye spear wha wan the day, 

I'll tell you what I saw, Willie : 
We baith did fight, and baith were beat, 

And baith did run awa', Willie. 
So there's my canty Highland sang 

About the thing I saw, Willie. 



See p. 156. From A New Book of Old Ballads, p. 30. 

HOGG inserted this ballad in the Jacobite Relics, 
ii. 13, using, says Maidment, the editor of the publi 
cation cited above, a very imperfect manuscript copy. 
The following version was taken from the original 
broad-side, supposed to be unique. There are very 
considerable variations in the language of the two 
copies, and the order of the stanzas is quite different 
This says Hogg, " is exclusively a party song, made 
by some of the Grants, or their adherents, in obloquy 
of their more potent neighbours, the Gordons. It is 
in a great measure untrue ; for, though the Marquis 
of Huntley was on the left wing at the head of a body 
of horse, and among the gentlemen that fled, yet two 
battalions of Gordons, or at least of Gordon's vassals, 
perhaps mostly of the Clan Chattan, behaved them 
selves as well as any on the field, and were particularly 
instrumental in breaking the Whig cavalry, or the 
left wing of their army, and driving them back among 
their foot. On this account, as well as that of the 
bitter personalities that it contains, the " song is only 
curious as an inveterate party song, and not as a 
genuine humorous description of the fight that the 
Marquis and his friends were in. The latter part of 


the [third] stanza seems to allude to an engagement 
that took place at Dollar, on the 24th October, a fort 
night previous to the battle of Sheriffmuir. Mar 
had despatched a small body of cavalry to force an 
assessment from the town of Dunfermline, of which 
Argyle getting notice, sent out a stronger party, who 
surprised them early in the morning before daylight, 
and arrested them, killing some and taking seventeen 
prisoners, several of whom were Gordons. The last 
stanza [but one] evidently alludes to the final sub 
mission of the Marquis and the rest of the Gordons to 
King George's government, which they did to the 
Grants and the Earl of Sutherland. The former had 
previously taken possession of Castle Gordon; of 
course, the malicious bard of the Grants, with his ill- 
scraped pen, was not to let that instance of the humil 
iation of his illustrious neighbours pass unnoticed. 
JACOBITE RELICS, vol. ii. p. 255. 

FROM Bogie side to Bogie Gight, 

The Gordons all conveen'd, man, 
With all their might, to battle wight, 

Together close they join'd, man, 
To set their king upon the throne, 6 

And to protect the church, man ; 
But fy for shame ! they soon ran hame, 
And left him in the lurch, man. 
Vow as the Marquis ran, 

Coming from Dumblane, man ! 
Strabogie did b t itself, 

And Enzie was not clean, man. 

3. weight. 4. closs. 


Their chieftain was a man of fame, 

And doughty deeds had wrought, man, 10 

Which future ages still shall name, 

And tell how well he fought, man. 
For when the battle did begin, 

Immediately his Grace, man, 
Put spurs to Florance, and so ran w 

By all, and wan the race, man. 
Vow, fyc. 

The Marquis' horse was first sent forth, 

Glenbucket's foot to back them, 
To give a proof what they were worth, 

If rebels durst attack them. 20 

With loud huzzas to Huntly's praise, 

They near'd Dumfermling Green, man, 
But fifty horse, and de'il ane mair, 

Turn'd many a Highland clan, man. 
Vow, frc. 

The second chieftain of that clan, 25 

For fear that he should die, man, 
To gain the honour of his name, 

Rais'd first the mutinie, man. 
And then he wrote unto his Grace, 

The great Duke of Argyle, man, ao 

And swore, if he would grant him peace, 

The Tories he'd beguile, man. 
Vow, frc. 

15. His horse, so called from having been a present from the 
Grand Duke of Tuscany. M. 


The Master with the bullie's face, 

And with the coward's heart, man, 
Who never fails, to his disgrace, 35 

To act a traitor's part, man, 
He join'd Drumboig, the greatest knave 

In all the shire of Fife, man. 
He was the first the cause did leave, 

By council of his wife, man. 

Vow, fyc. 

A member of the tricking trade, 

An Ogilvie by name, man, 
Consulter of the grumbling club, 

To his eternal shame, man, 
Who would have thought, when he came out, 45 

That ever he would fail, man ? 
And like a fool, did eat the cow, 

And worried on the tail, man. 
Vow, Sfc. 

Meffan Smith, at Sheriff Muir, 

Gart folk believe he fought, man ; so 

But well it's known, that all he did, 

That day it serv'd for nought, man. 
For towards night, when Mar march'd off, 

Smith was put in the rere, man ; 

33. Master of Sinclair, whose Court-Martial has been 
printed with an exceedingly interesting preface by Sir 
Walter Scott, as his contribution to the Koxburgh Club. 

49. David Smith was then proprietor of Methven, an 
estate in Perthshire. He died in 1735. Douglas, in his 
Baronage, terms him, a man of good parts, great sagacity, 
and economy." M. 


He curs'd, he swore, he baul[le]d out, ss 

He would not stay for fear, man. 
Vow, frc. 

But at the first he seem'd to be 

A man of good renown, man ; 
But when the grumbling work began, 

He prov'd an arrant lown, man. o 

Against Mar, and a royal war, 

A letter he did forge, man ; 
Against his Prince, he wrote nonsense, 

And swore by Royal George, man. 
Vow, Sfc. 

At Poineth boat, Mr. Francis Stewart, es 

A valiant hero stood, man, 
In acting of a royal part, 

Cause of the royal blood, man. 
But when at Sheriff Moor he found 

That bolting would not do it, 70 

He, brother like, did quite his ground, 

And ne're came back unto it. 
Vow, fyc. 

Brunstane said it was not fear 
That made him stay behind, man ; 

But that he had resolv'd that day TS 

To sleep in a whole skin, man. 

64. Altered in MS. to " German George." M. 

65. Brother to Charles, 5th Earl of Moray. Upon his 
brother's death, 7th October, 1735, he became the 6th Earl. 
He died in the 66th year of his age, on the llth December, 
1739. M. 


The gout, he said, made him take [bed], 

When battle first began, man ; 
But when he heard his Marquis fled, 

He took his heels and ran, man. 
Vow, fyc. 

Sir James of Park, he left his horse 

In the middle of a wall, man ; 
And durst not stay to take him out, 

For fear a knight should fall, man ; 
And Maien he let such a crack, 

And shewed a pantick fear, man ; 
And Craigieheads swore he was shot, 

And curs'd the chance of wear, man. 
Vow, Sfc. 

When they march'd on the Sheriff Moor, 

With courage stout and keen, man ; 
Who would have thought the Gordons gay 

That day should quite the green, man ? 
Auchleacher and Auchanachie, 

And all the Gordon tribe, man, 
Like their great Marquis, they could not 

The smell of powder bide, man. 
Vow, fyc. 

Glenbuicket cryed, " Plague on you all, 
For Gordons do no good, man ; 

For all that fled this day, it is 
Them of the Seaton blood, man." 

Clashtirim said it was not so, 
And that he'd make appear, man ; 


For he, a Seaton, stood that day, 
When Gordons ran for fear, man. 
Vow, Sfc. 

The Gordons they are kittle flaws, 105 

They'll fight with heart and hand, man ; 
When they met in Strathbogie raws 

On Thursday afternoon, man ; 
But when the Grants came doun the brae, 

Their Enzie shook for fear, man ; no 

And all the lairds rode up themselves, 

With horse and riding gear, man. 
Vow, fyc. 

Cluny plays his game of chess, 

As sure as any thing, man ; 
And like the royal Gordons race, us 

Gave check unto the king, man. 
Without a queen, its clearly seen, 

This game cannot recover ; 
I'd do my best, then in great haste 

Play up the rook Hanover. 120 

Vow, frc. 

113. This seems rather Gordon of Cluny than Cluny Mac- 
pherson. The estate of Cluny has passed from the ancient 
race, though still possessed by a Gordon. M. 

VOL. VII. 18 


JOHNIE COPE. See p. 168. 

Johnson's Museum (1853), vol. iv. p. 220, Kitson's Scottish 
Songs, ii. 84. 

COPE sent a challenge frae Dunbar, 
" Charlie meet me, an ye daur, 
And I'll learn you the airt of war, 
If you'll meet wi' me in the morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope I are ye waking yet f 
Or are your drums a-beating yet ? 
If ye were waking, I would wait 
To gang to the coals i' the morning. 

When Charlie looked the letter upon, & 

He drew his sword the scabbard from, 
" Come, follow me, my merry men, 

And we'll meet Johnie Cope i' the morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope I fyc. 

" Now, Johnie, be as good as your word, 
Come let us try baith fire and sword, 10 

And dinna flee like a frighted bird, 
That* s chased frae its nest i' the morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope ! Sfc. 

When Johnie Cope he heard of this, 
He thought it wadna be amiss 
To hae a horse in readiness, i 

To flee awa i' the morning. 
Hey, Johnie Cope ! Sfc. 


" Fye now, Johnie, get up and rin, 
The Highland bagpipes mak a din ; 
It's best to sleep in a hale skin, 

For 'twill be a bluddie morning.'* 20 

Hey, Johnie Cope ! fyc. 

When Johnie Cope to Dunbar came 
They spear*d at him, " Where's a' your men ? * 
" The deil confound me gin I ken, 
For I left them a' i' the morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope ! fyc. 

" Now Johnie, troth, ye were na blate 25 

To come wi' the news o' your ain defeat, 
And leave your men in sic a strait, 
So early in the morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope ! fyc. 

" In faith," quo Johnie, " I got sic flegs 
Wi' their claymores and filabegs, 

If I face them [again], deil break my legs, 
So I wish you a' good morning." 
Hey, Johnie Cope ! *c. 



FROM A Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 8.' The 
same, with one or two trifling verbal differences, in 
Percy's Reliques, i. 246. 

This story was originally told by Geoffrey of Mon- 
mouth, Historia Britonum, lib. ii. c. 2. It occurs in 
two forms in the Gesta Romanorum: see Madden's 
Old English Versions, p. 44, p. 450. 

Shakespeare's King Lear was first printed in 1608, 
and is supposed to have been written between 1603 
and 1605. Another drama on the subject was printed 
in 1605, called The true Chronicle History of King 
Zeir and his Three Daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and 
Cordelia. This was probably only a new impression 
of a piece entered in the Stationers' Registers as early 
as 1594. The ballad which follows agrees with 
Shakespeare's play in several particulars in which 
Shakespeare varies from the older drama and from 
Holinshed, the authority of both dramas. The name 
Cordelia is also found in place of the Cordelia of the 
Chronicle History ; but, on the other hand, we have 
Ragan instead of Shakespeare's Regan. In the ab 
sence of a date, we are unable to determine whether 
the ballad was written prior to the play of King Lear, 
or was founded upon it. 

KING Leir once ruled in this land 

With princely power and peace, 
And had all things, with hearts content, 

That might his joys increase. 
Amongst those things that nature gave, 6 


Three daughters fair had he, 
So princely seeming beautiful, 
As fairer could not be. 

So on a time it pleas'd the king 

A question thus to move, 10 

Which of his daughters to his grace 

Could shew the dearest love : 
" For to my age you bring content," 

Quoth he, " then let me hear, 
Which of you three in plighted troth is 

The kindest will appear." 

To whom the eldest thus began : 

" Dear father, mind," quoth she, 
" Before your face, to do you good, 

My blood shall rendred be. 20 

And for your sake my bleeding heart 

Shall here be cut in twain, 
Ere that I see your reverend age 

The smallest grief sustain." 

"And so will I," the second said ; as 

" Dear father, for your sake, 
The worst of all extremities 

I'll gently undertake : 
And serve your highness night and day 

With diligence and love ; ao 

That sweet content and quietness 

Discomforts may remove." 

" In doing so, you glad my soul," 
The aged king reply'd ; 


" But what say'st thou, my youngest girl ? 

How is thy love ally'd ? " 
" My love," quoth young Cordelia then, 

" Which to your grace I owe, 
Shall be the duty of a child, 

And that is all I'll show." 

"And wilt thou shew no more," quoth he, 

" Than doth thy duty bind ? 
I well perceive thy love is small, 

When as no more I find. 
Henceforth I banish thee my court ; 

Thou art no child of mine ; 
Nor any part of this my realm 

By favour shall be thine. 

" Thy elder sisters' loves are more 

Than well I can demand ; 
To whom I equally bestow 

My kingdom and my land, 
My pompous state and all my goods, 

That lovingly I may 
With those thy sisters be maintain'd 

Until my dying day." 

Thus flattering speeches won renown, 

By these two sisters here ; 
The third had causeless banishment, 

Yet was her love more dear. 
For poor Cordelia patiently 

Went wandring up and down, 
Unhelp'd, unpitied, gentle maid, 

Through many an English town. 


Until at last in famous France 65 

She gentler fortunes found ; 
Though poor and bare, yet she was deem'd 

The fairest on the ground : 
Where when the king her virtues heard, 

And this fair lady seen, ro 

With full consent of all his court 

He made his wife and queen. 

Her father, old King Leir, this while 

With his two daughters staid ; 
Forgetful of their promis'd loves, 7s 

Full soon the same decay'd ; 
And living in Queen Eagan's court, 

The eldest of the twain, 
She took from him his chiefest means, 

And most of all his train. so 

For whereas twenty men were wont 

To wait with bended knee, 
She gave allowance but to ten, 

And after scarce to three, 
Nay, one she thought too much for him ; 86 

So took she all away, 
In hope that in her court, good king, 

He would no longer stay. 

"Am I rewarded thus," quoth he, 

" In giving all I have 90 

Unto my children, and to beg 

For what I lately gave ? 
I'll go unto my Gonorel : 

76. deny'd. 


My second child, I know, 

Will be more kind and pitiful, 96 

And will relieve my woe." 

Full fast he hies then to her court ; 

Where, when she hears his moan, 
Return'd him answer, that she griev'd 

That all his means were gone ; 100 

But no way could relieve his wants ; 

Yet if that he would stay 
Within her kitchen, he should have 

What scullions gave away. 

When he had heard, with bitter tears, IDS 

He made his answer then ; 
" In what I did, let me be made 

Example to all men. 
I will return again," quoth he, 

" Unto my Ragan's court ; no 

She will not use me thus, I hope, 

But in a kinder sort." 

Where when he came, she gave command 

To drive him thence away : 
When he was well within her court, 115 

She said, he would not stay. 
Then back again to Gonorell 

The woeful king did hie, 
That in her kitchen he might have 

What scullion boys set by. 120 

But there of that he was deny'd 
Which she had promis'd late : 


For once refusing, he should not 

Come after to her gate. 
Thus twixt his daughters for relief 125 

He wandred up and down, 
Being glad to feed on beggars food, 

That lately wore a crown. 

And calling to remembrance then 

His youngest daughter's words, iso 

That said, the duty of a child 

Was all that love affords 
But doubting to repair to her, 

Whom he had banish'd so, 
Grew frantick mad ; for in his mind 135 

He bore the wounds of woe. 

Which made him rend his milk-white locks 

And tresses from his head, 
And all with blood bestain his cheeks, 

With age and honour spread. no 

To hills and woods and watry founts 

He made his hourly moan, 
Till hills and woods and senseless things 

Did seem to sigh and groan. 

Ev'n thus posses'd with discontents, i 

He passed o'er to France, 
In hopes from fair Cordelia there 

To find some gentler chance. 
Most virtuous dame ! which, when she heard 

Of this her father's grief, IM 

As duty bound, she quickly sent 

Him comfort and relief. 


And by a train of noble peers, 

In brave and gallant sort, 
She gave in charge he should be brought 155 

To Aganippus' court ; 
Whose royal king, with noble mind, 

So freely gave consent 
To muster up his knights at arms, 

To fame and courage bent. ieo 

And so to England came with speed, 

To repossess King Leir, 
And drive his daughters from their thrones 

By his Cordelia dear. 
Where she, true-hearted, noble queen, IBS 

Was in the battel slain ; 
Yet he, good king, in his old days, 

Possess'd his crown again. 

But when he heard Cordelia's death, 

Who died indeed for love tfo 

Of her dear father, in whose cause 

She did this battel move, 
He swooning fell upon her breast, 

From whence he never parted ; 
But on her bosom left his life ITS 

That was so truly hearted. 

The lords and nobles, when they saw 

The end of these events, 
The other sisters unto death 

They doomed by consents ; iso 

157. whose noble. 


And being dead, their crowns they left 

Unto the next of kin : 
Thus have you seen the fall of pride, 

And disobedient sin. 


THE celebrated mistress of Henry the Second was 
daughter to Walter Clifford, a baron of Herefordshire. 
She bore the king two sons, one of them while he was 
still Duke of Normandy. Before her death she 
retired to the convent of Godstow, and there she was 
buried ; but Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, not courtly 
enough to distinguish between royal and vulgar im 
moralities, caused her body to be removed, and 
interred in the common cemetery, " lest Christian 
religion should grow in contempt." 

The story of Queen Eleanor's poisoning her rival 
is not confirmed by the old writers, though they men 
tion the labyrinth. All the romance in Rosamond's 
history appears to be the offspring of popular fancy. 
Percy has collected the principal passages from the 
chronicles in his preface to the ballad. 

Fair Rosamond is the work of Thomas Deloney, a 
well-known ballad-maker who died about 1600. Our 
copy is the earliest that is known, and is taken from 
Deloney's Strange Histories, ed. of 1607, as reprinted 
by the Percy Society, vol. iii. p. 54. The same is 
found in the Crown Garland of Golden Roses, ed. 
1659 (Per. Soc. vol. vi. p. 12), and in the Garland 
of Good Will, ed. 1678 (Per. Soc. voL xxx. p. 1.): 


and besides, with trifling variations, in A Collection 
of Old Ballads, i. 11, Percy's Reliques, ii. 151, and 
Eitson's Ancient Songs, ii. 120, from black-letter 

Another ballad with the title of the Unfortunate 
Concubine, or, Rosamond's Overthrow, is given in the 
collection of 1723, vol. i. p. 1. The story is also 
treated in the forty -first chapter of Warner's Albion's 
England. Warner has at least one good stanza, 1 
which is more than can be said of this wretched, but 
very popular, production. 

Some corrections have been adopted from the 
Crown Garland of Golden Roses. 

WHEN as King Henrie rul'd this land, 

The second of that name, 
Beside the Queene, he dearly loved 

A faire and princely dame. 
Most peerelesse was her beautie found, 5 

Her favour, and her face ; 
A sweeter creature in this world 

Did never prince imbrace. 

Her crisped locks like threades of gold 

Appeared to each mans sight ; 10 

Her comely eyes, like orient pearles, 
Did cast a heavenly light. 

The blood within her cristall cheekes 
Did such a cullour drive, 

1. With that she dasht her on the lips, 

So dyed double red; 
Hard was the heart that gave the blow, 
Soft were those lips that bled. 


As though the lilly and the rose w 

For maistership did strive. 

Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamond, 

Her name was called so, 
To whome dame Elinor, our queene, 

Was knowne a cruell foe. 20 

The king therefore, for her defence 

Against the furious queene, 
At Woodstocke buylded such a bower, 

The like was never seene. 

Most curiously that bower was buylt, a 

Of stone and timber strong ; 
A hundred and fiftie doores 

Did to that bower belong : 
And they so cunningly contriv'd, 

With turning round about, so 

That none but by a clew of thread 

Could enter in or out. 

And for his love and ladyes sake, 

That was so fair and bright, 
The keeping of this bower he gave 35 

Unto a valiant knight. 
But fortune, that doth often frowne 

Where she before did smile, 
The kinges delight, the ladyes joy 

Full soone she did beguile. 40 

For why, the kings ungracious sonne, 

Whom he did high advance, 
Against his father raised warres 


Within the realme of France. 
But yet before our comely king 

The English land forsooke, 
Of Kosamond, his ladye faire, 

His farewell thus he tooke : 

" My Rosamond, my onely Rose, 

That pleaseth best mine eye, 
The fairest Rose in all the world 

To feed my fantasie, 
" The flower of my affected heart, 

Whose sweetness doth excell, 
My royall Rose, a hundred times 

I bid thee now farewell ! 

" For I must leave my fairest flower, 

My sweetest Rose, a space, 
And crosse the seas to famous France, 

Proude rebels to abace. 
" But yet, my Rose, be sure thou shalt 

My comming shortly see, 
And in my heart, while hence I am, 

He beare my Rose with mee." 

When Rosamond, that lady bright, 

Did heare the king say so, 
The sorrow of her greeved heart 

Her outward lookes did show. 
And from her cleare and cristall eyes 

The teares gusht out apace, 
Which, like the silver-pearled deaw, 

Ran downe her comely face. 


Her lippes, like to a corrall red, 

Did waxe both wan and pale, 
And for the sorrow she conceived 7 

Her vitall spirits did fayle. 
And falling downe all in a swound 

Before King Henries face, 
Full oft betweene his princely armes 

Her corpes he did imbrace. so 

And twenty times, with waterie eyes, 

He kist her tender cheeke, 
Untill she had received againe 

Her senses milde and meeke. 
" Why grieves my Rose, my sweetest Rose ? " ss 

The king did ever say : 
" Because," quoth she, " to bloody warres 

My lord must part away. 

" But sithe your Grace in forraine coastes, 

Among your foes unkind, 90 

Must go to hazard life and limme, 

Why should I stay behind ? 
" Nay, rather let me, like a page, 

Your sword and target beare ; 
That on my breast the blow may light, ss 

Which should annoy you there. 

" O let me, in your royall tent, 

Prepare your bed at night, 
And with sweet baths refresh your grace, 

77. sonnd. 83. he had - 3viv'd. C. G. 

94. shield: sword, Garl G. W. 


At your returne from fight. 100 

" So I your presence may enjoy, 

No toyle I will refuse ; 
But wanting you, my life is death : 

Which doth true love abuse." 

" Content thy selfe, my dearest friend, tos 

Thy rest at home shall bee, 
In England's sweete and pleasant soyle ; 

For travaile fits not thee. 
" Faire ladyes brooke not bloody warres ; 

Sweete peace their pleasures breede, no 

The nourisher of hearts content, 

Which fancie first doth feede. 

" My Rose shall rest in Woodstocke bower, 

With musickes sweete delight, 
While I among the pierceing pikes iis 

Against my foes do fight. 
" My Rose in robes of pearl and gold, 

With diamonds richly dight, 
Shall daunce the galliards of my love, 

While I my foes do smite. 120 

"And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust 

To be my loves defence, 
Be carefull of my gallant Rose 

When I am parted hence." 
And therewithall he fetcht a sigh, 125 

102. must refuse. 107. England. 

117. robes and pearls of gold. 
122. beare. 


As though his heart would breake : 
And Rosamond, for inward griefe, 
Not one plaine word could speake. 

And at their parting well they might 

In heart be grieved sore : ia> 

After that day, faire Rosamond 

The King did see no more. 
For when his Grace had past the seas, 

And into France was gone, 
Queene Elinor, with envious heart, i 

To Woodstocke came anone. 

And f'oorth she cald this trusty knight 

Which kept the curious bower, 
Who, with his clew of twined threed, 

Came from that famous flower. no 

And when that they had wounded him, 

The queene his threed did get, 
And went where lady Rosamond 

Was like an angell set. 

And when the queene with stedfast eye us 

Beheld her heavenly face, 
She was amazed in her minde 

At her exceeding grace. 
" Cast off from thee thy robes," she sayd, 

" That rich and costly be ; iso 

And drinke thou up this deadly draught, 

Which I have brought for thee." 

But presently upon her knees 

Sweet Rosamond did fall ; 
VOL. VII. J.9 


And pardon of the queene she crav'd iss 

For her offences all. 
" Take pittie on my youthfull yeares," 

Faire Rosamond did cry ; 
"And let me not with poyson strong 

Inforced be to die. ieo 

" I will renounce this sinfull life, 

And in a cloyster bide ; 
Or else be banisht, if you please, 

To range the world so wide. 
"And for the fault which I have done, i 

Though I was forst thereto, 
Preserve my life, and punish me 

As you thinke good to do." 

And with these words, her lilly hands 

She wrang full often there ; iro 

And downe along her lovely cheekes 

Proceeded many a teare. 
But nothing could this furious queene 

Therewith appeased bee ; 
The cup of deadly poyson filld, us 

As she sat on her knee, 

She gave the comely dame to drinke ; 

Who tooke it in her hand, 
And from her bended knee arose, 

And on her feet did stand. HW 

And casting up her eyes to heaven, 

She did for mercy call ; 
And drinking up the poyson then, 

Her life she lost withall. 


And when that death through every lira iss 

Had done his greatest spite, 
Her chiefest foes did plaine confesse 

She was a glorious wight. 
Her body then they did intombe, 

When life was fled away, u 

At Godstow, neere [to] Oxford towne, 

As may be seene this day. 


A Collection of Old Ballads, i. 97. 

" I NEVER was more surprised," says the editor of 
the Collection of 1723, "than at the sight of the fol 
lowing ballad ; little expecting to see pride and wick 
edness laid to the charge of the most affable and most 
virtuous of women: whose glorious actions are not 
recorded by our historians only; for no foreign writers, 
who have touched upon those early times, have in 
silence passed over this illustrious princess, and every 
nation rings with the praise of Eleonora Isabella of 
Castile, King Edward's Queen. Father Le Monie, who 
(in his Gallerie des Femmes Fortes) has searched all 
Christendom round, from its very infancy to the last 
age, for five heroines, very partially bestows the first 
place upon one of his own country-women, but gives 
the second, with a far superior character, to this 

In this absurdly false and ignorant production, the 
well-beloved Eleonora of Castile is no doubt con- 


founded with her most unpopular mother-in-law, 
Eleanor of Provence, the wife of Henry the Third, 
whose luxurious habits, and quarrels with the city of 
London, might afford some shadow of a basis for the 
impossible slanders of the ballad-singer. Queenhithe 
was a quay, the tolls of which formed part of the 
revenue of the Queen, and Eleanor of Provence 
rendered herself extremely odious by compelling ves 
sels, for the sake of her fees, to unlade there. Charing- 
cross was one of thirteen monuments raised by Ed 
ward the First at the stages, where his queen's body 
rested, on its progress from the place of her decease 
to Westminster. In the connection of both these 
places with the name of a Queen Eleanor may be 
found (as Miss Strickland suggests in her Lives of the 
Queens) the germ of the marvellous story of the dis 
appearance at Charing-cross and the resurrection at 

That portion of the story which relates to the 
cruelty exercised by the queen towards the Lord 
Mayor's wife is borrowed from the Gesta Romanorum. 
See Madden's Old English Versions, &c. p. 226, Olim- 
pus the Emperour. Peele's Chronicle History of Ed 
ward the First exhibits the same misrepresentations of 
Eleanor of Castile. See what is said of this play in 
connection with the ballad of Queen Eleanor's Con 
fession, vol. vi. p. 209. The whole title of the ballad 
is : 

A Warning Piece to England against Pride and 
Wickedness : 

Being the Fall of Queen Eleanor, Wife to Edward the First, 
King of England; who, for her pride, by God's Judgments, 
stink into the Ground at Charing-cross and rose at Queen 


WHEN Edward was in England king, 

The first of all that name, 
Proud Ellinor he made his queen, 

A stately Spanish dame : 
Whose wicked life, and sinful pride, 5 

Thro' England did excel : 
To dainty dames, and gallant maids, 

This queen was known full well. 

She was the first that did invent 

In coaches brave to ride ; 10 

She was the first that brought this land 

To deadly sin of pride. 
No English taylor here could serve 

To make her rich attire ; 
But sent for taylors into Spain, u 

To feed her vain desire. 

They brought in fashions strange and new, 

With golden garments bright ; 
The farthingale, and mighty ruff, 

With gowns of rich delight : 20 

The London dames, in Spanish pride, 

Did flourish every where ; 
Our English men, like women then, 

Did wear long locks of hair. 

Both man and child, both maid and wife, 25 

Were drown'd in pride of Spain : 
And thought the Spanish taylors then 

Our English men did stain : 
Whereat the queen did much despite, 

To see our English men so 


In vestures clad, as brave to see 
As any Spaniard then. 

She crav'd the king, that ev'ry man 

That wore long locks of hair, 
Might then be cut and polled all, 

Or shaved very near. 
Whereat the king did seem content, 

And soon thereto agreed ; 
And first commanded, that his own 

Should then be cut with speed : 

And after that, to please his queen, 

Proclaimed thro* the land, 
That ev'ry man that wore long hair 

Should poll him out of hand. 
But yet this Spaniard, not content, 

To women bore a spite, 
And then requested of the king, 

Against all law and right, 

That ev'ry womankind should have 

Their right breast cut away ; 
And then with burning irons sear'd, 

The blood to stanch and stay ! 
King Edward then, perceiving well 

Her spite to womankind, 
Devised soon by policy 

To turn her bloody mind. 

He sent for burning irons straight, 

All sparkling hot to see ; 
And said, " O queen, come on thy way ; 


" I will begin with thee." ec 

Which words did much displease the queen, 

That penance to begin ; 
But ask'd him pardon on her knees ; 

Who gave her grace therein. 

But afterwards she chanc'd to pass es 

Along brave London streets, 
Whereas the mayor of London's wife 

In stately sort she meets ; 
With music, mirth, and melody, 

Unto the church they went, TO 

To give God thanks, that to th' lord mayor 

A noble son had sent. 

It grieved much this spiteful queen, 

To see that any one 
Should so exceed in mirth and joy, re 

Except herself alone : 
For which, she after did devise 

Within her bloody mind, 
And practis'd still more secretly, 

To kill this lady kind. so 

Unto the mayor of London then 

She sent her letters straight, 
To send his lady to the court, 

Upon her grace to wait. 
But when the London lady came 

Before proud El'nor's face, 
She stript her from her rich array, 

And kept her vile and base. 


She sent her into Wales with speed, 

And kept her secret there, 90 

And us'd her still more cruelly 

Than ever man did hear. 
She made her wash, she made her starch, 

She made her drudge alway ; 
She made her nurse up children small, 95 

And labour night and day. 

But this contented not the queen, 

But shew'd her most despite; 
She bound this lady to a post, 

At twelve a clock at night ; 100 

And as, poor lady, she stood bound, 

The queen, in angry mood, 
Did set two snakes unto her breast, 

That suck'd away her blood. 

Thus died the mayor of London's wife, 105 

Most grievous for to hear ; 
Which made the Spaniard grow more proud, 

As after shall appear. 
The wheat that daily made her bread 

Was bolted twenty times ; no 

The food that fed this stately dame, 

Was boil'd in costly wines. 

The water that did spring from ground, 

She would not touch at all ; 
But wash'd her hands with the dew of heav'n, iw 

That on sweet roses fall. 
She bath'd her body many a time 


In fountains fill'd with milk ; 
And ev'ry day did change attire, 
In costly Median silk. 120 

But coming then to London back, 

Within her coach of gold, 
A tempest strange within the skies 

This queen did there behold : 
Out of which storm she could not go, 125 

But there remain'd a space ; 
Four horses could not stir the coach 

A foot out of the place. 

A judgment lately sent from heav'n, 

For shedding guiltless blood, iao 

Upon this sinful queen, that slew 

The London lady good ! 
King Edward then, as wisdom will'd, 

Accus'd her of that deed ; 
But she denied, and wish'd that God 135 

Would send his wrath with speed, 

If that upon so vile a thing 

Her heart did ever think, 
She wish'd the ground might open wide, 

And she therein might sink ! 140 

With that, at Charing-cross she sunk 

Into the ground alive, 
And after rose with life again, 

In London, at Queenhithe. 

When, after that, she languish'd sore 145 

Full twenty days in pain, 


At last confess'd the lady's blood 

Her guilty hand had slain : 
And likewise, how that by a fryar 

She had a base-born child ; iso 

Whose sinful lusts and wickedness 

Her marriage bed defil'd. 

Thus have you heard the fall of pride, 

A just reward of sin ; 
For those who will forswear themselves, its 

God's vengeance daily win. 
Beware of pride, ye courtly dames, 

Both wives and maidens all; 
Bear this imprinted on your mind, 

That pride must have a fall. ieo 


FROM Strange Histories, p. 1 7 (Percy Society, vol. 
iii). Other copies, with variations, are in The Crown- 
Garland of Golden Roses, Part II. p. 20 (Percy So 
ciety, vol. xv.), and A Collection of Old Ballads, iii. 91. 
The editor of Strange Histories informs us that a play 
on the same subject as the ballad was written by 
Thomas Drew, or Drue, early in the reign of James 
L, and printed in 1631, under the title of The 
Duchess of Suffolk, her Life. He remarks further 
that both play and ballad was founded upon the nar- 


rative of Fox, anno 1558 [Acts and Monuments, iii. 
926, ed. 1641]; but the differences between Fox's 
account and the story which follows are altogether too 
great for this supposition to be true. 

Katharine, daughter of Lord Willoughby of Eresby, 
was first married to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, 
and after his death to Eichard Bertie, Esq., with whom 
she was forced to fly from persecution in 1553, taking 
refuge first in the Low Countries, and afterwards in 

WHEN God had taken for our sinne 

That prudent prince, King Edward, away, 

Then bloudy Bonner did begin 
His raging mallice to bewray ; 

All those that did the Gospell professe 

He persecuted more or lesse. 

Thus, when the Lord on us did lower, 

Many in pryson did he throw, 
Tormenting them in Lollards tower, 

Whereby they might the trueth forgoe : 10 

Then Cranmer, Ridley, and the rest, 
Were burnt in fire, that Christ profest. 

Smithfield was then with faggots fild, 

And many places more beside ; 
At Coventry was Sanders kild, is 

At Glocester eke good Hooper dyde ; 
And to escape this bloudy day, 
Beyond-seas many fled away. 

9. There is said to be a place so called in the archiepis- 
copal palace at Lambeth. 


Among the rest that sought reliefe 

And for their faith in daunger stood, a 

Lady Elizabeth was chiefe, 

King Henries daughter of royall blood ; 
Which in the Tower prisoner did He, 
Looking each day when she should die. 

The Dutchesse of Suffolke, seeing this, 25 

Whose life likewise the tyrant sought, 

Who in the hope of heavenly blisse 

Within God's word her comfort wrought, 

For feare of death was faine to flie, 

And leave her house most secretly. ao 

That for the love of Christ alone, 
Her lands and goods she left behind, 

Seeking still for that pretious stone, 
The worde of trueth, so rare to find : 

She with her nurse, her husband, and child, 35 

In poor array their sights beguild. 

Thus through London they passed along, 
Each one did passe a severall streete ; 

Thus all unknowne, escaping wrong, 

At Billings-gate they all did meete : 40 

Like people poore, in Gravesend barge, 

They simply went with all their charge. 

And all along from Gravesend towne 
With easie journeyes on foote they went ; 

Unto the sea-coast they came downe, 45 

To passe the seas was their intent ; 

28. /So, C. G. G. K., for which in. 


And God provided so that day, 

That they tooke shippe and sayld away. 

And with a prosperous gale of wind 

In Flanders safe they did arive ; so 

This was to their great ease of minde, 

Which from their hearts much woe did drive ; 
And so with thanks to God on hie, 
They tooke their way to Germanie. 

Thus as they traveld, thus disguisde, w 

Upon the high way sodainely 
By cruell theeves they were surprisde, 

Assaulting their small companie ; 
And all their treasure and their store 
They tooke away, and beate them sore. eo 

The nurse in middest of their fight 

Laid downe the child upon the ground ; 

She ran away out of their sight, 
And never after that was found : 

Then did the Dutchesse make great mone es 

With her good husband all alone. 

The theeves had there their horses kilde, 
And all their money quite had tooke ; 

The pretty babie, almost spild, 

Was by their nurse likewise forsooke, ra 

And they farre from their friends did stand, 

All succourlesse in a strange land. 

The skies likewise began to scowle ; 
It hayld and raind in pittious sort ; 


The way was long and wonderous foule ; 

Then may I now full well report 
Their griefe and sorrow was not small, 
When this unhappy chaunce did fall. 

Sometime the Dutchesse bore the child, 

As wet as ever she could be, 
And when the lady kind and mild 

Was wearie, then the child bore hee ; 
And thus they one another easde, 
And with their fortunes were well pleasde. 

And after many wearied steppes, 
All wet-shod both in durt and myre, 

After much griefe, their hearts yet leapes, 
(For labour doth some rest require) ; 

A towne before them they did see, 

But lodgd therein they could not bee. 

From house to house they both did goe, 
Seeking where they that night might lie, 

But want of money was their woe, 
And still the babe with cold did crie ; 

With capp and knee they courtsey make, 

But none on them would pittie take. 

Loe here a princesse of great blood 
Did pray a peasant for reliefe, 

With tears bedewed as she stood ! 
Yet few or none regardes her griefe; 

Her speech they could not understand, 

But gave her a pennie in her hand. 


When all in vaine the paines was spent, 
And that they could not house-roome get, 

Into a church-porch then they went, iw 

To stand out of the raine and wet : 

Then said the Dutchesse to her deare, 

" O that we had some fier heere ! " 

Then did her husband so provide 

That fire and coales he got with speede ; 110 
She sate downe by the fiers side, 

To dresse her daughter, that had neede ; 
And while she drest it in her lapp, 
Her husband made the infant papp. 

Anone the sexton thither came, us 

And finding them there by the fire, 

The drunken knave, all voyde of shame, 
To drive them out was his desire : 

And spurning forth this noble dame, 

Her husbands wrath it did inflame. 120 

And all in furie as he stood, 

He wroung the church-keies out of his hand, 
And strooke him so, that all of blood 

His head ran downe where he did stand ; 
Wherefor the sexton presently 125 

For helpe and ayde aloude did cry! 

Then came the officers in hast, 

And tooke the Dutchesse and her child, 

And with her husband thus they past, 

Like lambes beset with tygers wild, iso 

And to the governour were they brought, 

Who understood them not in ought. 


Then Maister Bartue, brave and bold, 

In Latine made a gallant speech, 
Which all their miserie did unfold, 135 

And their high favour did beseech : 
With that, a doctor sitting by 
Did know the Dutchesse presently. 

And thereupon arising straight, 

With minde abashed at their sight, 140 

Unto them all that there did waight, 

He thus brake forth, in wordes aright : 
"Behold within your sight," quoth hee, 
"A princesse of most high degree." 

With that the governour arid the rest i 

Were all amazde the same to heare, 

And welcommed these new-come guestes 
With reverence great and princely cheare ; 

And afterward conveyd they were 

Unto their friend Prince Cassemere. iso 

A sonne she had in Germanic, 

Peregrine Bartue cald by name, 
Surnamde The Good Lord Willobie, 

Of courage great and worthie fame. 
Her daughter young, which with her went, 155 
Was afterward Countesse of Kent. 

For when Queene Mary was deceast, 
The Dutchesse home returnde againe, 

Who was of sorrow quite releast 

By Queene Elizabeth's happie raigne : 100 

For whose life and prosperitie 

We may prayse God continually. 



THOMAS STUCKLEY, says Fuller, " was a younger 
brother, of an ancient, wealthy, and worshipful family, 
nigh Ilfracombe in this county [Devon], being one of 
good parts; but valued the less by others, because 
overprized by himself. Having prodigally mis-spent 
his patrimony, he entered on several projects (the 
issue general of all decayed estates) ; and first pitched 
on the peopling of Florida, then newly found out, in 
the West Indies. So confident his ambition, that he 
blushed not to tell Queen Elizabeth, 'that he pre 
ferred rather to be sovereign of a mole-hill, than 
the highest subject to the greatest king in Christen 
dom;' adding, moreover, 'that he was assured he 
should be a prince before his death/ * I hope,' said 
Queen Elizabeth, ' I shall hear from you, when you 
are stated in your principality.' ' I will write unto 
you,' quoth Stuckley. ' In what language ? ' said the 
Queen. He returned, ' In the style of princes : To 
our dear sister.' 

" His fair project of Florida being blasted for lack 
of money to pursue it, he went over into Ireland, 
where he was frustrated of the preferment he ex 
pected, and met such physic that turned his fever 
into frenzy ; for hereafter resolving treacherously to 

VOL. VII. 20 


attempt what he could not loyally achieve, he went 
over into Italy. 

" It is incredible how quickly he wrought himself 
through the notice into the favour, through the court 
into the chamber, yea closet, yea bosom of Pope Pius 
Quintus ; so that some wise men thought his Holiness 
did forfeit a parcel of his infallibility in giving credit 
to such a glorioso, vaunting that with three thousand 
soldiers he would beat all the English out of Ireland. 

"The Pope finding it cheaper to fill Stuckley's 
swelling sails with airy titles than real gifts, created 
him Baron of Ross, Viscount Murrough, Earl of Wex- 
ford, Marquis of Leinster ; and then furnished this 
title-top-heavy general with eight hundred soldiers, 
paid by the King of Spain, for the Irish expedition. 

" In passage thereunto, Stuckley lands at Portugal, 
just when Sebastian, the king thereof, with two Moorish 
kings, were undertaking a voyage into Africa. Stuck 
ley, scorning to attend, is persuaded to accompany 
them. Some thought he wholly quitted his Irish de 
sign, partly because loath to be pent up in an island 
(the continent of Africa affording more elbow-room 
for his achievements) ; partly because so mutable his 
mind, he ever loved the last project (as mothers the 
youngest child) best. Others conceive he took this 
African in order to his Irish design ; such his con 
fidence of conquest, that his breakfast on the Turks 
would the better enable him to dine on the English 
in Ireland. 

" Landing in Africa, Stuckley gave council which 
was safe, seasonable, and necessary ; namely, that for 
two or three days they should refresh their land sol 
diers; whereof some were sick, and some were weak, 


by reason of their tempestuous passage. This would 
not be heard ; so furious was Don Sebastian to en 
gage ; as if he would pluck up the bays of victory out 
of the ground, before they were grown up ; and so, in 
the battle of Alcaser, their army was wholly defeated : 
where Stuckley lost his life. 

'A fatal fight, where in one day was slain, 

Three kings that were, and one that would be fain ! ' 

" This battle was fought anno 1578, where Stuck 
ley, with his eight hundred men, behaved himself 
most valiantly, till overpowered with multitude." 
Worthies of England, by Nuttall, i. 414. 

Mr. Dyce, in his prefatory note to Peele's Battle of 
Alcazar, having cited the above extract with several 
poetical notices of Stukeley, mentions another play 
founded on this adventurer's exploits (The Famous 
Historye of the Life and Death of Captaine Thomas 
Stukely), acted in 1596, and printed in 1605 (Peele's 
Works, ii. 85). 

The ballad is from The Crown-Garland of Golden 
Roses (Percy Society, vol. vi.) p. 33. There are some 
verses on Stukeley's projected voyage to Florida in 
Mr. Collier's Old Ballads, in the first volume of the 
Percy Society, p. 73. 

IN the west of England 
Borne there was, I understand, 

A famous gallant in his dayes, 
By birth a wealthy clothier's sonne ; 
Deeds of wonder he hath done, s 

To purchase him a long and lasting praise. 


If I should tell his story, 
Pride was all his glory, 

And lusty Stukely he was call'd in court ; 
He serv'd a bishop of the west, 10 

And did accompany the best, 

Maintaining still himselfe in gallant sort. 

Being thus esteemed, 

And every where well deemed, 

He gain'd the favour of a London dame, is 
Daughter to an alderman, 
Curtis he was called then, 

To whom a sutor gallantly he came. 

When she his person spied, 

He could not be denied, ao 

So brave a gentleman he was to see ; 
She was quickly made his wife, 
In weale or woe to lead her life, 

Her father willingly did so agree. 

Thus, in state and pleasure, 25 

Full many daies they measure ; 

Till cruell death, with his regardles spight, 
Bore old Curtis to his grave, 
A thing which Stukely wisht to have, 

That he might revell all in gold so bright. sc 

He was no sooner tombed, 
But Stukely presumed 

To spend a hundred pound that day in waste : 
The bravest gallants of the land 


Had StukeUes purse at their command ; 36 

Thus merrily the time away he pass'd. 

Taverns and ordinaries 
Were his cheefest braveries, 

Goulden angells flew there up and downe ; 
Riots were his best delight, 40 

With stately feastings day and night ; 

In court and citty thus he won renowne. 

Thus wasting land and living 
By this lawlesse giving, 

At last he sold the pavements of his yard, 43 
Which covered were with blocks of tin ; 
Old Curtis left the same to him, 

Which he consumed vainely, as you heard. 

Whereat his wife sore greeved, 

Desir'd to be releeved ; so 

" Make much of me, dear husband," she did say : 
" I'll make much more of thee," quoth he, 
" Than any one shall, verily : 

I'll sell thy clothes, and so will go away." 

Cruelly thus hearted, ss 

Away from her he parted, 

And travelled into Italy with speed : 
There he flourisht many a day 
In his silkes and rich array, 

And did the pleasures of a lady feed. eo 

38, 40. where. 


It was the ladies pleasure 

To give him gold and treasure, 

And to maintaine him in great pomp and fame ; 
At last came newes assuredly 
Of a battaile fought in Barbary, es 

And he would valiantly go see the same. 

Many a noble gallant 
Sold both land and talent 

To follow Stukely in this famous fight ; 
Whereas three kings in person would 70 

Adventurously, with courage bould, 

Within the battaile shew themselves in sight. 

Stukely and his followers all, 
Of the king of Portugall 

Had entertainement like to gentlemen : 75 

The king affected Stukely so, 
That he his secrets all did know, 

And bore his royall standard now and then. 

Upon this day of honour 

Each king did shew his banner ; so 

Morocco, and the King of Barbery, 
Portugall, with all his train, 
Bravely glister'd in the plain, 

And gave the onset there most valiantly. 

The cannons they resounded, as 

Thund'ring drums rebounded, 

" Kill, kill ! " as then was all the soldiers cry ; 

72. fight. 


Mangled men lay on the ground, 
And with blood the earth was dround, 

The sun was likewise darken'd in the skye. 

Heaven was sore displeased, 
And would not be appeased, 

But tokens of God's heavy wrath did show 
That he was angry at this war ; 
He sent a fearfull blazing star, 95 

Whereby these kings might their misfortunes 

Bloody was this slaughter, 
Or rather wilfull murther, 

Where six score thousand fighting men were 

slain ; 

Three kings within this battaile died, 100 

With forty dukes and earles beside, 

The like will never more be fought again. 

With woful armes enfoulding, 
Stukely stood beholding 

This bloody sacrifice of soules that day : ion 
He, sighing, said, " I, wofull wight, 
Against my conscience heere did fight, 

And brought my followers all unto decay." 

Being thus molested, 

And with greefes oppressed, no 

Those brave Italians that did sell their lands, 
With Stukely thus to travel forth, 
And venture life for little worth, 

Upon him all did lay their murthering hands. 


Unto death thus wounded, 115 

His heart with sorrow swounded, 

And to them all he made this heavy mone : 
" Thus have I left my country deere, 
To be so vilely murthered heere, 

Even in this place whereas I am not known. 120 

" My life I have much wronged ; 
Of what to her belonged 

I vainely spent in idle course of life. 
What I have done is past, I see, 
And bringeth nought but greef to me, 125 

Therefore grant now thy pardon, gentle wife ! 

" Life, I see, consumeth, 
And death, I feel, presumeth 

To change this life of mine into a new : 
Yet this me greatest comfort brings, 130 

I liv*d and died in love of kings, 

And so brave Stukely bids the world adew." 

Stukelys life thus ended, 
Was after death befrended, 

And like a soldier buried gallantly ; i& 

Where now there stands upon his grave 
A stately temple, builded brave, 

With golden turrets piercing in the skye. 



No plausible foundation for this ballad has as yet 
been found in history. It has been suggested that 
Delaware is a corruption of De la Mare, a speaker of 
the House of Commons, and a great advocate of pop 
ular rights, in the reign of Edward the Third ! But 
there is no accounting for the Dutch lord and the 
Welsh Duke of Devonshire on this or any other sup 

The ballad is given from Lyle's Ancient Ballads and 
Songs, p. 135, as " noted down from the singing of a 
gentleman," and then " remodelled and smoothed 
down " by the editor. The same copy is printed in 
Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs (Percy 
Society, vol. xvii.), p. 80, and in Bell's volume with 
the same title, p. 66. 

IN the Parliament House, 

A great rout has been there, 
Betwixt our good king 

And the Lord Delaware : 
Says Lord Delaware * 

To his Majesty full soon, 
" Will it please you, my Liege, 

To grant me a boon ? " 

" What's your boon ? " says the King, 

" Now let me understand." w 


" It's, give me all the poor men 
We've starving in this land ; 

And without delay, I'll hie me 
To Lincolnshire, 

To sow hemp-seed and flax-seed, 
And hang them all there. 

" For with hempen cord it's better 

To stop each poor man's breath, 
Than with famine you should see 

Your subjects starve to death." 
Up starts a Dutch lord, 

Who to Delaware did say, 
" Thou deservest to be stabb'd ! " 

Then he turned himself away : 

" Thou deservest to be stabb'd, 

And the dogs have thine ears, 
For insulting our king 

In this parliament of peers." 
Up sprang a Welsh lord. 

The brave Duke of Devonshire, 
" In young Delaware's defence, I'll fight 

This Dutch lord, my Sire. 

" For he is in the right, 

And I'll make it so appear : 
Him I dare to single combat, 

For insulting Delaware." 
A stage was soon erected, vY 

And to combat they went, 
For to kill, or to be kill'd, 

It was cither's full intent. 


But the very first flourish, 

When the heralds gave command, 
The sword of brave Devonshire 

Bent backward on his hand ; 
In suspense he paused awhile, 

Scann'd his foe before he strake, 
Then against the king's armour, 

His bent sword he brake. 

Then he sprang from the stage, 

To a soldier in the ring, so 

Saying, " Lend your sword, that to an end 

This tragedy we bring : 
Though he's fighting me in armour, 

While I am fighting bare, 
Even more than this I'd venture M 

For young Lord Delaware." 

Leaping back on the stage, 

Sword to buckler now resounds, 
Till he left the Dutch lord 

A bleeding in his wounds : eo 

This seeing, cries the King 

To his guards without delay, 
" Call Devonshire down, 

Take the dead man away ! " 

" No," says brave Devonshire, es 

" I've fought him as a man ; 
Since he's dead, I will keep 

The trophies I have won. 
For he fought me in your armour, 

While I fought him bare, TC 


And the same you must win back, my Liege, 
If ever you them wear. " 

God bless the Church of England, 

May it prosper on each hand, 
And also every poor man 75 

Now starving in this land ; 
And while I pray success may crown 

Our king upon his throne, 
I'll wish that every poor man 

May long enjoy his own. sc 


THE BATTLE OF HARLAW. (See p. 180.) 

Traditionary Version, from Aytoun's Scottish Battads, i. 75. 

" I am indebted to the kindness of Lady John Scott 
for the following extremely spirited ballad, which was 
taken down some years ago in Aberdeenshire, where 
it is still very popular. It is sung to a beautiful air, 
with the following refrain to each stanza : 

" WP a drie, drie, dredidronilie drie." 

As I cam in by Garioch land, 

And doun by Netherha', 
There was fifty thousand Hielandmen, 

A' marching to Harlaw. 

As I cam on, and further on, 5 

And doun and by Balquhaim, 
O there I met Sir James the Ross, 

Wi' him Sir John the Graeme. 

" O cam ye frae the Highlands, man ? 

O cam ye a' the way V 10 

Saw ye Mac Donnell and his men, 

As they cam frae the Skye ? " 

" Yes, we cam frae the Highlands, man, 

And we cam a' the way, 
And we saw Mac Donnell and his men, H 

As they cam in frae Skye." 


" O was ye near Mac Donnell's men ? 

Did ye their number see ? 
Come, tell to me, John Hielandman, 

What might their numbers be ? " 

" Yes, we was near, and near eneugh, 
And we their number saw ; 

There was fifty thousand Hielandmen, 
A' marching to Harlaw." 

" Gin that be true," said James the Ross, 
" We'll no come meikle speed ; 

We'll cry upon our merry men, 
And turn our horses' head." 

" O na, O na ! " says John the Graeme, 
" That thing maun never be ; 

The gallant Graemes were never beat, 
We'll try what we can dee." 

As I cam on, and further on, 

And doun and by Harlaw, 
They fell fu' close on ilka side, 

Sic straiks ye never saw. 

They fell fu' close on ilka side, 

Sic straiks ye never saw ; 
For ilka sword gaed clash for clash, 

At the battle o' Harlaw. 

The Hielandmen wi' their lang swords, 

They laid on as fu' sair, 
And they drave back our merry men, 

Three acres breadth and mair. 


Brave Forbes to his brother did say, 45 

" O brother, dinna ye see ? 
They beat us back on ilka side, 

And we'll be forced to flee." 

" O na ! O na ! my brother dear, 

O na ! that mauna be ! so 

You'll tak your gude sword in your hand, 

And ye'll gang in wi' me." 

Then back to back the brothers brave 

Gaed in amang the thrang, 
And they swept doun the Hielandmen, 5* 

Wi' swords baith sharp and lang. 

The first ae straik that Forbes strack, 

He gar'd Mac Donnell reel ; 
And the neist ae straik that Forbes strack, 

The brave Mac Donnell fell. eo 

And siccan a Pitlarichie 

I'm sure ye never saw, 
As was amang the Hielandmen, 

When they saw Mac Donnell fa*. 

And when they saw that he was dead, es 

They turn'd and ran awa', 
And they buried him in Legate's Den, 

A large mile frae Harlaw. 

Some rade, some ran, and some did gang, 

They were o' sma' record, n 

But Forbes and his merry men 
They slew them a' the road. 


On Mononday at morning, 

The battle it began ; 
On Saturday at gloamin', 

Ye'd scarce ken'd wha had wan. 

And sic a weary buryin' 

I'm sure ye never saw, 
As was the Sunday after that, 

On the muirs aneath Harlaw. 

Gin onybody speer at ye 

For them we took awa', 
Ye may tell them plain, and very plain, 

They're sleeping at Harlaw. 


[E^- Figures placed after words denote the pages in 
they occur. 


abien, aboun, above. 

aboyding, abiding. 

accompany, 308, keep the com 
pany of. 

ae, one. 

affected, enamored. 

all and sum, all and several, 
one and all. 

allangst, 182, along. 

aucyents, 63, ensigns. 

anent, over against. 

aneughe, enough. 

aras, arrows. 

arminge-sword, a two-handed 

austerne, 99, austere. 

avowe, vow. 

awin, <?>/?. 

bade, abode. 

bald, bold. 

bale, sorrow; ballys bete, 42, 

better, amend, our evils. 
bamloun, command, orders. 

VOL. VII. 21 

banket, banquet. 

barne, (A. Sax. beam,) chief, 

basnites, bassonetts, helmets. 

battellis, 225, divisions of the 
army, or, the armies. 

be, by, at, by the time that. 

bearing arrow, 65, " an arrow 
that carries well:" Per 
cy, who also suggests birr 
ing, i. e. whirring, whizzing. 
See Boucher's Glossary. 

bed, 224, 229, abode, remained. 

bedeen, 265, in numbers, one 
after another t 

beild, shelter] 224, position of 

ben, tn. 

bende-bow, bent bow. 

bended, 182, bounded! 

bent, coarse grass, ground on 
which this grass grows, field. 

berne (A. Sax. beorn), chief, 

ber, bare. 



beth, 98, is. 

be-west, to the west of. 

biggingis, buildings. 

bille, see sworne. 

billie, comrade. 

bla', blow. 

blaithe, blithe. 

blan, blane, ceased, stopped. 

blate, silly, stupid. 

bleid, blood. 

bod ward, 182, message. 

borrowe, security, hostage, ran 
som; borowed, 18, ransomed. 

bouk, body, carcase. 

bowne, bowyn, ready, pre 
pared; 235, going; bound, 
bowynd, 19, 5, 6, made 
ready, went. 

brace, 260, same as breeze, 
hurry ? 

bracken, braken, fern. 

brae, side of a hill. 

braid, broad. 

bra'ly, bravely. 

branken, branking, prancing, 

braveries, displays. 

braw, brave, handsome. 

bread, 69, breadth; bred, 

breeks, breeches. 

brent, burned. 


bronde, brand, sword. 

brook, enjoy; 186, take (pos 
session of). 

brose, 261, pottage. 

brouine, brown, brewed. 

broust, brewage. 

bruch, brugh, burgh, city. 

bryttlynge, cutting up (of 

buft, buffeted, beat. 

burd-alone, alone. 

burn, brook. 

but, without, 221 ; but bed, be 
fore we sleep. 

butter-box, 154, " Dutch 
men." Ritson. 

byckarte, 30, moved quickly, 
rattling their weapons. 

byddys, abides. 

byears, biers. 

byll, halbert, battle-axe. 

ca', call ; 265, drive, beat. 
caliver, 116, large pistol, or 

can, could, used as auxiliaries 

to form the past tenses, 
canty, merry. 
carefull, anxious. 
carpe, tell, discourse, 
cast, propose, intend. 
cawte, cautious. 
chafts, chaps. 
chess, chace. 
chessit, chased. 
cheverons, gloves. 
christiante, Christendom. 
claw, scratch, fght. 
clinkum clankum, a phrase 

for smart blows. 
cogue, wooden pail. 
cold bee, 100, was ; see can. 
collayne, Cologne, i. e. steel, or 

manufacture : see i. 357. 
cor, core, corps. 



corpes, 287, living body. 

cors, curse. 

corynoch, lamentation for the 

cowde dye, 16, did die] see 


crouse, 169, brisk, brave. 
crowdie, gruel, porridge. 
cryand, crying. 

daft, mad. 

dandering, an epithet express 
ing the noise of drums, like 
tantara, p. 124. 

de, die : deid, dead, death. 

decay, destruction, death. 

dee, do. 

deemedst, doomedst. 

demean, punish, put down. 

deputed, 103, used of a fugi 
tive carried back for trial. 

diel, devil. 

dight, dicht; 61, furnished; 
37, 189, to deth, " done," 
wounded; 22, dispose of, han 
dle, encounter. 

ding, pr. dung, strike, knock, 
beat, overcome. 

dinne, noise. 

discord, quarrel. 

doghtie, doughty. 

door, 154? dorlach, which 
Jamieson says is a short- 
sword, means a wallet. 

douted, redoubtable, feared. 

doutsum, doubtful. 

drede, doubt. 

dre, drye, endure, bear; drie, 
98, as noun, suffering. 

dulesum, doleful. 

dunted, beat. 

durk, dirk. 

dyne, garre, 10, give one hia 

JM of fighting. 
dyne, 228, valley. 
dynte, blow, stroke. 

eathe, easy. 

ee, eye. 

edicang, aide-de-camp. 

erne, uncle. 

endlongis, along. 

enewch, enough. 

ensenzie, enzie, ensign. 

envye (to do), itt-will, injury. 

ewill, 229 ; qy, eve, or vigil ? 

fa 1 , fall; 162, share, portion. 

fach, fetch. 

fallows, fellows, equals. 

fare, go. 

fay, 219, on the verge of death, 

fayne, glad. 

feale, fail. 

fearit, feared. 

fecht, fight. 

fee, property, reward. 

feck, maist, greatest part. 

feid, feud, enmity. 

feingit, feigned. 

feirdness, cowardice. 

fell, hide. 

fells, hills, also, moors. 

fend, keep, support. 

fett, fetched. 

fiery-fairy, confusion and con 



filabeg, kilt, or short petticoat, 
worn by Highlanders instead 
of breeches. 

firstin, first. 

fit, song, division of a song, 

flegs, frights. 

flinders, fragments. 

flyte, scold, remonstrate ; 95, 

forder, further. 

forefend, forbid. 

forgatherit, met together. 

forwarde, van. 

fou, full. 

fourugh, see furich. 

frame, 133, succeed. 

freck, freke, freyke (A. S. 
one who is bold) warrior, 

fun', found. 

furich, furichinish, Gaelic: 
fuirich means wait, stop : 
fearach is an old Irish war- 
cry. " Fy, furich, Whigs, 
awa' ! " was a Jacobite 
pipe air, says Chambers. 

free, frie, noble ; 20, of metal, 
precious (?) 

gade, went. 

galliards, quick and lively 

gare, gore. See Glossary to 

vol. 2. 
garre, make; gart, garde, 

gate, way. 
geed, went. 

geere, 64, business, affair. 

gettyng, 9, plunder. 

gled, gladden. 

glede, live coal. 

glent, glanced, passed swiftly. 

gloamin', dusk, night-fall. 

glove, 121 ; to claim a glove 
worn as a lady's favor, was 
a form of challenge, which 
is perhaps the reference 

graif, grave. 

graithed, grathed, prepared, 
dressed, armed; 183, laid, 
or laid out. 

gree, bear the, bore the palm. 

gresse, grass. 

grevis, groves, bushes. 

grite, weep. 

grysely, dreadfully. 

guide, good. 

habershoune, coat of mail. 

hach-borde, 60, 63, 68, (MS. 
has in one place, " arch- 
borde,") seems to be used 
for the side of the ship. 

hached, inlaid or gilded. 

hagbutis, a kind of muskets. 

halched, greeted. 

hale, whole. 

hard, heard. 

harneis, armor. 

haryed, phmdered. 

haws, low grounds on the bor 
der of a river. 

haylde, hauled. 

haylle, 10, healthy. 

he, high. 



heal, kail. 

heidit, beheaded. 

heidin, beheading. 

hernainsell, see note p. 154. 

hich, high. 

hight, promise, be catted. 

hinde, gentle. 

hing, hang. 

his, has. 

Hogan Dutch, 155 ? 

holtes, 8, woods. 

hoved, 9, hovered, hung about, 


howe, hollow, valley. 
husbonds, husbandmen. 
hye, hyght, (on,) on high, 

hyght, promised. 

ilk, ilkay, each. 
into, in. 
is, has. 
i-wis, certainly. 

jack, a coat of mail, a leather 

jouk, avoid a blow by bending 
the body forward. 

kain, 180, rent paid in kind; 
here, paid the kain is suf 
fered sorely. 

kaithe, appear, come. 

ken, know ; kenna, know not. 

kindly, 23, native born. 

kith, acquaintance. 

kittle flaws, variable winds, 
i. e. not to be depended on 
for courage. 

knop, knob. 

knowe, knoll. 

lair, 239, place where they were 

lang, long. 

lap, leapt. 

layne, deceive ; 13, break word. 

leaguer, camp. 

leath, loath. 

leeve, dear, pleasant; lever, 

lesse, 10, lying. 

let, prevent. 

lift, air. 

lifting, stealing. 

liges, lieges. 

liklie, handsome, promising. 

lilye, 23, lilly, 179, covered 
with lilies ? 

lilting, singing cheerfully. 

linking, walking quickly. 

list, please. 

lithe, list. 

liverance, 95, " money for de 
livering up." Percy. 

logeying, lodging. 

lope, leapt. 

lucetts, 14, luces, pikes. 

lurdane, a heavy, stupid fel 

luves, palms, hands. 

maker, makys, mates. 
march-man, warden of Die 

march-perti, 40, the Border 

parts or region. 
marke hym to the Trenite', 

13, commit himself to God 

by making the sign of the 



cross? marked, 14, fixed 
their eyes on, took aim at f 

maugre, spite. 

may, maid. 

meany, company. 

merchand, marching. 

mickle, great. 

mind, remember. 

miss, 264, evil, fault, trouble. 

moe, moo, more, greater. 

mome, fool. 

mort, death (of the deer.) 

mowes, mowis, (mouths,) joke. 

mitir, moor. 

mykel, great. 

myllan, 36, Milan, i. e. steel or 

myne-allaine, alone by myself. 

myneyeple, 35, maniple (i. e. 
many folds), a name for a 
close dress with sleeves worn 
under the armor. 

nare, nor. 

naye, denial. 

near, nearer. 

neist ae, next. 

nixtin, next. 

northen, be, to the north of. 

oh' on a ri, Gaelic, oh, my 
heart ! oh' rig in di, 165 V 

one, on. 

ones, once. 

outrake, 100, riding out, excur 

oware, hour. 

owermaskit, overcast. 

paiks, 154, drubbing. 

palione, 222, pallion, pavilion, 

pall, a rich cloth. 

parti, part. 

paw, pa', 158, swift motion ; 
one's part in a perform 
ance, 1 54 ; of the contortions 
of a person hanged, 162 ; of 
the movement of weapons, 

peart, pert. 

perseiued, pursued. 

philibeg, kilt, or short petticoat, 
worn by Highlanders in 
stead of breeches. 

Pitlarichie, 319 ? 

pleadis, prayers. 

polititious, politic, ingenious. 

pompous, 278. proud, magnifi 

pra, 173, brave, fine. 

presumand, presuming. 

prycked, rode. 

pyght, pitched. 

quaint, acquaint. 

quat, quit. 

quhat, &c. what, $c. 

quhill, while, until. 

quhois, whose. 

quite, quit. 

quyrry, quarry, slaughtered 

quyt, paid, repaid. 

race, 184, course. 

raid, a predatory incursion. 

rais, rose. 



raking, 242, running, scouring 

rave, bereave. 

raw, row, rank ; upo' the raw, 
in rank of battle. 

rax, reach, stretch ; 265, beat t 

rear, ride the, 233, ride behind, 
have the worse. 

recks, 23, matters. 

rede, advise ; 15, guessed. 

red, rode. 

Reidswire, see vol. vi. p. 131. 

remeid, remedy. 

rent, rend. 

rewyth, regrets. 

riggings, 154, backs t 

rinnes, runs. 

rise on anchor, 206 ? 

roke, reek, steam. 

rout, company, crowd. 

rowght, rout, strife. 

rowynde, round. 

rung, cudgel; canon's, figura 
tively, for shot t 

ryall, royal. 

ryght, 7, straight. 

rynde, 13, flayed? rinde, to 
destroy, Halliwell's Diet. 

saw, saying, statement. 

say, saw. 

say, assay. 

sayne, say. 

scale, 262, 178, scatter, spread. 

schapped, 15, apparently 

should be " swapped;" see 

schoote, 12, shot, let go. 

sene, 189, skilled, experienced. 
shear, 30, 31, quickly, at once. 

( V) Halliwell. 
she, used of Highlanders in 

siccan, such. 
sinsyne, since. 
sith, since. 
skelps, blows. 
silver wand, 100 ? 
slaydis, 228; the passage is 

slicht, slight. 
sloughe, slew. 

smirkling, smirking, smiling. 
smored, smothered. 
snell, 269, sharp, loud. 
snood, a band with which a 

young woman ties up her 


sould, should. 
souters, cobblers. 
spear, speir, ask. 
spendyd, 96, probably the 

same as spanned, grasped. 
splenderis, splinters. 
spole, shoulder. 
spuente, 36, spirted, sprung 


spurne, kick ; 42, retaliation ? 
stain, outdo, excel. 
stalwurthlye, stoutly, boldly. 
stanc'd, stationed. 
stank, 154, pool. 
stead, 65, place, post. 
stell'd, placed. 
stent, stop. 
stounde, time. 



stour, stowre, (turmoil of) 

straiks, strokes. 

fitynttyde, stopped. 

styrande, 6, see note: accord 
ing to Percy's reading, 
driving the deer from their 
retreats ; but adopting 
Mother well' s, prancing, 

suar, 35, 38, sure, trusty. 

suthe, true. 

swakked, 23, swapped, 
swapte, 15, 24, 36, struck, 

swat, sweat. 

sweirand, swearing. 

sworne into my bille, 95, " / 
have deKvered a promise in 
writing, confirmed by an 
oath." Percy. 

syne, since, then, afterward. 

tackes, takes. 

tald, 227, tall f 

talent, 310, seems to be used 

for property in general, 
tear, 42, possibly the same 

as dere, injury. 
teene, tene, injury. 
tenne, taken. 
tent, heed. 
the, thee, they. 
thi, the. 

thir, these, those. 
thought long, found the time 


thrang, throng. 
thraw, twist. 

thrysse, thrice. 

thuds, 169, sound of blows, 
noises, strokes. 

tinkler, played the, 161, play 
ed the coward. 

tint, lost. 

tockin, token. 

ton, tone, the, the one. 

tooke, 39 ; supply an omitted 
word, as "rest." 

toom, empty. 

top-castle, 62, a kind of tur 
ret built round the mast-head. 

topsail, to cast, a kind of 

tre-trip for hay, 131 ; tray-trip 
was a game at dice. 

tree, 226, spear-shaft ? cudgel f 

trews, 155, Highland panta 
loons, consisting of breeches 
and stockings in one piece ; 
here used for Highlanders. 

trone, 143, pillory. 

trows, 156, see trews. 

touk, tuick, beat. 

tyll, to. 

tyne, lose. 

uds-doyns, an oath, 
uncouth, unknown. 
uttermost, outmost. 

valziant, valiant. 
verament, truly. 
vow, 169, exclamation of ad 
miration or surprise. 
vowit, vowed. 

wae, sad, sorry. 


wald, would. win (hay), make, get in. 

waly, interjection of lamenta- winna, mil not. 

tion. wis, 214, wish. 

wane, 36? woned unto the dead, 222, 

war, worse; verb, to worst, qy. vowed? devoted them- 

overcome. selves to death f 

war, aware. wood, mad, furious. 

ward, word. worried, 270, choked at. 

waryson, reward. worthe, woe, woe be to. 

wast, west. wouche, injury. 

wat, know. wraithe, wroth. 

weal, 41 (of hands), to wring? writhe, twisted. 

weale, 64, qy, well? or good wyld, 30, seems to be used 

luck ! The word is probably absolutely for deer. 

corrupted. wynn, (hay), make, get in. 
weapon-shaw, inspection of 

arms, military review. ychone, each one. 

wed, would. yebent, bent. 

wede, 72, shorn ? yee, eye. 

weir, war. ye-feth, i-faith. 

well, 226 , qy. mell, meddle or yender, yonder. 

fight with. yerlle, earl. 

weme, 98, belly, hollow. yerly, early. 

wend, go. ye'se, ye shall. 

whigging, moving fast, march- yestreen, yesterday. 

ing briskly. yill, ale. 

whilk, which. yth' in the. 
whyll, 15, till. 

wid, would. zield, yield. 

wight, 102, strong, quick. zit, yet. 
win, go, get.