"It was not long after that my brother and I had intelligence, that there was a great match made at footeball and the chiefe ryders were to be there. The place they were to meet at was Kelsy, and that day, wee heard it, was the day for the meeting. Wee presently called a counsaile, and after much dispute it was concluded, that the likeliest place hee was to come to, was to kill the scoutes. And it was the more suspected, for that my brother, before my coming to the office, for the cattaile stolne out of the bounds, and as it were from under the walles of Barwicke, being refused justice (upon his complaint,) or at least delaid, sent off the garrison into Liddisdale, and killed there the chiefe offender, which had done the wrong.

"Upon this conclusion, there was order taken, that both horse and foote should lye in ambush, in diverse parts of the boundes, to defend the scoutes, and to give a sound blow to Sir Robert and his company. Before the horse and foote were sett out with directions what to do, it was almost darke night, and the gates ready to be lockt. Wee parted, and as I was by myselfe comeing to my house, God put it into my mind, that it might well be, hee meant destruction to my men, that I had sent out to gather tithes for mee at Norham, and their rendezvous was every night to lye and sup at an ale-house in Norham. I presently caused my page to take horse, and to ride as fast as his horse could carry him, and to command my servants (which were in all eight) that, presently upon his coming to them, they should all change their lodging, and go streight to the castle, there to lye that night in strawe and hay. Some of them were unwilling thereto, but durst not disobey; so altogether left their ale-house, and retired to the castle. They had not well settled themeselves to sleep, but they heard in the town a great alarm; for Sir Robert and his company came streight to the ale-house, broke open the doors, and made enquiry for my servants. They were answered, that by my command they were all in the castle. After they had searched all the house, and found none, they feared they were betrayed, and, with all the speede they could, made haste homewards again. Thus God blessed me from this bloody tragedy.

"All the whole march expected nightly some hurt to be done; but God so blessed mee and the government I held, as, for all his fury, hee never drew drop of blood in all my march, neither durst his theeves trouble it much with stealing, for fear of hanging, if they were taken. Thus wee continued a yeare, and then God sent a meanes to bring thinges to better quiet by this occasion.

"There had been commissioners in Barwicke, chosen by the queene and king of Scottes, for the better quieting of our borders. By their industry they found a great number of malefactors guilty, both in England and Scotland; and they tooke order, that the officers of Scotland should deliver such offenders, as were found guilty in their jurisdictions, to the opposite officers in England, to be detained prisoners, till they had made satisfaction for the goods they had taken out of England. The like order was taken with the wardens of England, and days prefixed for the delivery of them all. And in case any of the officers, on either side, should omit their duties, in not delivering the prisoners at the dayes and places appointed, that then there should a course be taken by the soveraignes, that what chiefe officer soever should offend herein, he himself should be delivered and detained, till he had made good what the commissioners had agreed upon.

"The English officers did punctually, at the day and place, deliver their prisoners, and so did most of the officers of Scotland; only the Lord of Bocleuch and Sir Robert Kerr were faultie. They were complained of, and new dayes appointed for the delivery of their prisoners. Bocleuch was the first, that should deliver; and hee failing entered himselfe prisoner into Barwicke, there to remaine till those officers under his charge were delivered to free him. He chose for his guardian Sir William Selby, master of the ordinance at Barwicke. When Sir Robert Kerr's day of delivery came, he failed too, and my Lord Hume, by the king's command, was to deliver him prisoner into Barwicke upon the like termes, which was performed. Sir Robert Kerr (contrary to all men's expectation) chose mee for his guardian, and home I brought him to my own house, after hee was delivered to mee. I lodged him as well as I could, and tooke order for his diet, and men to attend on him, and sent him word, that (although by his harsh carriage towards mee, ever since I had that charge, he could not expect any favour, yet) hearing so much goodness of him, that hee never broke his word, if hee should give mee his hand and credit to be a true prisoner, hee would have no guard sett upon him, but have free liberty for his friends in Scotland to have ingresse and regresse to him as oft as hee pleased. He tooke this very kindly at my handes, accepted of my offer, and sent me thankes.

"Some four dayes passed; all which time his friends came into him, and hee kept his chamber. Then hee sent to mee, and desired mee, I would come and speake with him, which I did; and after long discourse, charging and re-charging one another with wrong and injuries, at last, before our parting, wee became good friends, with greate protestations, on his side, never to give mee occasion of unkindnesse again. After our reconciliation hee kept his chamber no longer, but dined and supt with mee. I tooke him abroad with mee at the least thrice a weeke, a hunting, and every day wee grew better friends. Bocleuch, in a few dayes after, had his pledges delivered, and was set at liberty. But Sir Robert Kerr could not get his, so that I was commanded to carry him to Yorke, and there to deliver him prisoner to the archbishop, which accordingly I did. At our parting, he professed greate love unto mee for the kinde usage I had shewn him, and that I would find the effects of it upon his delivery, which hee hoped would be shortly.

"Thus wee parted; and, not long after, his pledges were gott, and brought to Yorke, and hee sett at liberty. After his retourne home, I found him as good as his word. Wee met oft at dayes of truce, and I had as good justice as I could desire; and so wee continued very kinde and good friends, all the time that I stayed in that march, which was not long."



APPENDIX, No. III.

MAITLAND'S COMPLAYNT AGANIS THE THIEVIS OF LIDDISDAIL, FROM PINKERTON'S EDITION, COLLATED WITH A MS. OF MAITLAND'S POEMS, IN THE LIBRARY OF EDINBURGH COLLEGE.

* * * * *

Of Liddisdail the commoun theifis Sa peartlie steillis now and reifis, That nane may keip Horse, nolt, nor scheip, Nor yett dar sleip For their mischeifis.

Thay plainly throw the country rydis, I trow the mekil devil thame gydis! Quhair they onsett, Ay in thair gaitt, Thair is na yet Nor dor, thame bydis.

Thay leif rich nocht, quhair ever thay ga; Thair can na thing be hid thame fra; For gif men wald Thair housis hald, Than waxe thay bald, To burne and slay.

Thay thiefs have neirhand herreit hail, Ettricke forest and Lawderdaill; Now are they gane, In Lawthiane; And spairis nane That thay will waill.

Thay landis ar with stouth sa socht, To extreame povertye ar broucht, Thay wicked schrowis Has laid the plowis, That nane or few is That are left oucht.

Bot commoun taking of blak mail, Thay that had flesche, and breid and aill, Now are sa wrakit, Made bair and nakit, Fane to be slaikit With watter caill.

Thay theifs that steillis and tursis hame, Ilk ane of them has ane to-name[69]; Will of the Lawis, Hab of the Schawis: To mak bair wawis Thay thinke na schame.

Thay spuilye puir men of their pakis, Thay leif them nocht on bed nor bakis; Baith hen and cok, With reil and rok, The Lairdis Jok, All with him takis.

Thay leif not spindell, spoone, nor speit; Bed, boster, blanket, sark, nor scheit; Johne of the Parke Ryps kist and ark; For all sic wark He is richt meit.

He is weil kend, John of the Syde; A greater theif did never ryde. He never tyris For to brek byris: Ouir muir and myris Ouir gude ane gyde.

Thair is ane, callet Clement's Hob, Fra ilk puir wyfe reifis the wob, And all the lave, Quhatever they haife, The devil recave Thairfoir his gob.

To sic grit stouth quha eir wald trow it, Bot gif some great man it allowit Rycht sair I trow Thocht it be rew: Thair is sa few That dar avow it.

Of sum great men they have sic gait, That redy are thame to debait, And will up weir Thair stolen geir; That nane dare steir Thame air nor late.

Quhat causis theifis us ourgang, Bot want of justice us amang? Nane takis cair, Thocht all for fear; Na man will spair Now to do wrang.

Of stouth thocht now thay come gude speid, That nother of men nor God has dreid; Yet, or I die, Sum sail thame sie, Hing on a trie Quhill thay be deid—

Quo' Sir R.M. of Lethington, knicht.

[Footnote 69: Owing to the marchmen being divided into large clans, bearing the same sirname, individuals were usually distinguished by some epithet, derived from their place of residence, personal qualities, or descent. Thus, every distinguished moss-trooper had, what is here called, a to-name, or nom de guerre, in addition to his family name.]



APPENDIX, No. IV.

BOND OF ALLIANCE, OR FEUD STAUNCHING, BETWIXT THE CLANS OF SCOTT AND KER.

* * * * *

The battle of Melrose (see Introduction, p. xvii.) occasioned a deadly feud betwixt the name of Scott and Ker. The following indenture was designed to reconcile their quarrel. But the alliance, if it ever took effect, was not of long duration; for the feud again broke out about 1553, when Sir Walter Scott was slain by the Kers, in the streets of Edinburgh.

"Thir indentures, made at Ancrum the 16th of March, 1529 years, contains, proports, and bears leil and suithfast witnessing. That it is appointed, agreed, and finally accorded betwixt honourable men; that is to say, Walter Ker of Cessford, Andrew Ker of Fairnieherst, Mark Ker of Dolphinston, George Kerr, tutor of Cessford, and Andrew Ker of Primesideloch, for themselves, kin, friends, mentenants, assisters, allies, adherents, and partakers, on the one part; and Walter Scot of Branxholm, knight, Robert Scot of Allanhaugh, Robert Scot, tutor of Howpaisly, John Scot of Roberton, and Walter Scot of Stirkshaws, for themselves, their kin, friends, mentenants, servants, assisters, and adherents, on the other part; in manner, form, and effect, as after follows: For staunching all discord and variance betwixt them, and for furth-bearing of the king's authority, and punishing trespasses, and for amending all slaughters, heritages, and steedings, and all other pleas concerning thereto, either of these parties to others, and for unite, friendship, and concord, to be had in time coming 'twixt them, of our sovereign lord's special command: that is to say, either of the said parties, be the tenor hereof, remits and forgives to others the rancour, hatred, and malice of their hearts; and the said Walter Scot of Branxholm shall gang, or cause gang, at the will of the party, to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall say a mass for the souls of umquhile Andrew Ker of Cessford, and them that were slain in his company, in the field of Melrose; and, upon his expence, shall cause a chaplain say a mass daily, when he is disposed, in what place the said Walter Ker and his friends pleases, for the well of the said souls, for the space of five years next to come.—Mark Ker of Dolphinston, Andrew Kerr of Graden, shall gang, at the will of the party, to the four head pilgrimages of Scotland, and shall gar say a mass for the souls of umquhile James Scot of Eskirk, and other Scots, their friends, slain in the field of Melrose; and, upon their expence, shall gar a chaplain say a mass daily, when he is disposed, for the heal of their souls, where the said Walter Scot and his friends pleases, for the space of three years next to come: and the said Walter Scot of Branxholm shall marry his son and heir upon one of the said Walter Ker his sisters; he paying, therefor, a competent portion to the said Walter Ker and his heir, at the sight of the friends of baith parties. And also, baith the saids parties bind and oblige them, be the faith and truth of their bodies, that they abide at the decreet and deliverance of the six men chosen arbiters, anent all other matters, quarrels, actiones, and debates, whilk either of them likes to propone against others betwixt the saids parties: and also the six arbiters are bound and obliged to decreet and deliver, and give forth their deliverance thereuntil, within year and day after the date hereof.—And attour, either of the saids parties bind and oblige them, be the faith and truth of their bodies, ilk ane to others, that they shall be leil and true to others, and neither of them will another's skaith, but they shall let it at their power, and give to others their best counsel, and it be asked; and shall take leil and aeffald part ilk ane with others, with their kin, friends, servants, allies, and partakers, in all and sundry their actions, quarrels, and debates, against all that live and die (may the allegiance of our sovereign lord the king allenarly be excepted).—And for the obliging and keeping all thir premises above written, baith the saids parties are bound and obliged, ilk ane to others, be the faith and truth of their bodies, but fraud or guile, under the pain of perjury, men-swearing, defalcation, and breaking of the bond of deadly. And, in witness of the whilk, ilk ane to the procuratory of this indenture remain with the said Walter Scot and his friends, the said Walter Ker of Cessford has affixed his proper seal, with his subscription manual, and with the subscription of the said Andrew Ker of Fairnieherst, Mark Ker of Dolphinston, George Ker, tutor of Cessford, and Andrew Ker of Primesideloch, before these witnesses, Mr. Andrew Drurie, abbot of Melrose, and George Douglas of Boonjedward, John Riddel of that ilk, and William Stewart.

Sic Subscribitur,

WALTER KER of Cessford.

ANDREW KER of Fairnieherst.

MARK KER.

GEORGE KER.

ANDREW KER of Primesideloch."

N.B. The four pilgrimages are Scoon, Dundee, Paisley, and Melrose.



APPENDIX, No. V.

ANE INTERLUDE OF THE LAYING OF A GAIST.

* * * * *

This burlesque poem is preserved in the Bannatyne MSS. It is in the same strain with the verses concerning the Gyre Carline (Vol. II.) As the mention of Bettokis Bowr occurs in both pieces, and as the scene of both is laid in East Lothian, they are perhaps composed by the same author. The humour of these fragments seems to have been directed against the superstitions of Rome; but it is now become very obscure. Nevertheless, the verses are worthy of preservation, for the sake of the ancient language and allusions.

Listen lordis, I sall you tell, Off ane very grit marvell, Off Lord Fergussis gaist, How meikle Sir Andro it chest, Unto Beittokis bour, The silly sawle to succour: And he hes writtin unto me, Auld storeis for to se, Gif it appinis him to meit, How he sall conjure the spreit: And I haif red mony quars, Bath the Donet, and Dominus que pars, Ryme maid, and als redene, Baith Inglis and Latene: And ane story haif I to reid, Passes Bonitatem in the creid. To conjure the litill gaist he mon haif Of tod's tails ten thraif, And kast the grit holy water With pater noster, pitter patter; And ye man sit in a compas, And cry, Harbert tuthless, Drag thow, and ye's draw, And sit thair quhill cok craw. The compas mon hallowit be With aspergis me Domine; The haly writ schawis als Thair man be hung about your bals Pricket in ane woll poik Of neis powder ane grit loik. Thir thingis mon ye beir, Brynt in ane doggis eir, Ane pluck, ane pindill, and ane palme cors, Thre tuskis of ane awld hors, And of ane yallow wob the warp, The boddome of ane awld herp, The held of ane cuttit reill, The band of an awld quheill, The taill of ane yeild sow, And ane bait of blew wow, Ane botene, and ane brechame, And ane quhorle made of lame, To luke out at the litill boir, And cry, Crystis crosse, you befoir: And quhen ye see the litill gaist, Cumand to you in all haist, Cry loud, Cryste eleisone, And speir quhat law it levis on? And gif it sayis on Godis ley, Than to the litill gaist ye say, With braid benedicite; —"Litill gaist, I conjure the, With lierie and larie, Bayth fra God, and Sanct Marie, First with ane fischis mouth, And syne with ane sowlis towth, With ten pertane tais, And nyne knokis of windil strais, With thre heidis of curle doddy."— And bid the gaist turn in a boddy. Then efter this conjuratioun, The litill gaist will fall in soun, And thair efter down ly, Cryand mercy petously; Than with your left heil sane, And it will nevir cum agane, As meikle as a mige amaist.[70]

He had a litill we leg, And it wes cant as any cleg, It wes wynd in ane wynden schet, Baythe the handis and the feit: Suppose this gaist wes litill Yit it stal Godis quhitell; It stal fra peteous Abrahame, Ane quhorle and ane quhim quhame; It stal fra ye carle of ye mone Ane payr of awld yin schone; It rane to Pencatelane, And wirreit ane awld chaplane; This litill gaist did na mair ill Bot clok lyk a corn mill; And it wald play and hop, About the heid ane stre strop; And it wald sing and it wald dance, Oure fute, and Orliance. Quha conjurit the litill gaist say ye? Nane bot the litill Spenzie fle, That with hir wit and her ingyne, Gart the gaist leif agane; And sune mareit the gaist the fle, And croun'd him King of Kandelie; And they gat them betwene, Orpheus king, and Elpha quene.[71] To reid quha will this gentill geist, Ye hard it not at Cockilby's feist.[72]

[Footnote 70: Apparently some lines are here omitted.]

[Footnote 71: This seems to allude to the old romance of Orfeo and Heurodis, from which the reader will find some extracts, Vol. II. The wife of Orpheus is here called Elpha, probably from her having been extracted by the elves, or fairies.]

[Footnote 72: Alluding to a strange unintelligible poem in the Bannatyne MSS., called Cockelby's sow.]



APPENDIX, No. VI.

SUPPLEMENTAL STANZAS TO COLLINS'S ODE ON THE SUPERSTITIONS OF THE HIGHLANDS.

BY

WILLIAM ERSKINE, ESQ. ADVOCATE.

* * * * *

The editor embraces this opportunity of presenting the reader with the following stanzas, intended to commemorate some striking Scottish superstitions, omitted by Collins in his ode upon that subject; and which, if the editor can judge with impartiality of the production of a valued friend, will be found worthy of the sublime original. The reader must observe, that these verses form a continuation of the address, by Collins, to the author of Douglas, exhorting him to celebrate the traditions of Scotland. They were first published in the Edinburgh Magazine, for April, 1788.

* * * * * Thy muse may tell, how, when at evening's close, To meet her love beneath the twilight shade, O'er many a broom-clad brae and heathy glade, In merry mood the village maiden goes; There, on a streamlet's margin as she lies, Chaunting some carol till her swain appears, With visage deadly pale, in pensive guise, Beneath a wither'd fir his form he rears![73] Shrieking and sad, she bends her irie flight, When, mid dire heaths, where flits the taper blue, The whilst the moon sheds dim a sickly light, The airy funeral meets her blasted view! When, trembling, weak, she gains her cottage low, Where magpies scatter notes of presage wide, Some one shall tell, while tears in torrents flow, That, just when twilight dimm'd the green hill's side, Far in his lonely sheil her hapless shepherd died.

[Footnote 73: The wraith, or spectral appearance, of a person shortly to die, is a firm article in the creed of Scottish superstition. Nor is it unknown in our sister kingdom. See the story of the beautiful lady Diana Rich.—Aubrey's Miscellanies, p, 89.]

Let these sad strains to lighter sounds give place! Bid thy brisk viol warble measures gay! For see! recall'd by thy resistless lay, Once more the Brownie shews his honest face. Hail, from thy wanderings long, my much lov'd sprite! Thou friend, thou lover of the lowly, hail! Tell, in what realms thou sport'st thy merry night, Trail'st the long mop, or whirl'st the mimic flail. Where dost thou deck the much-disordered hall, While the tired damsel in Elysium sleeps, With early voice to drowsy workman call, Or lull the dame, while mirth his vigils keeps? 'Twas thus in Caledonia's domes, 'tis said, Thou ply'dst the kindly task in years of yore: At last, in luckless hour, some erring maid Spread in thy nightly cell of viands store: Ne'er was thy form beheld among their mountains more.[74]

[Footnote 74: See Introduction, p. ci.]

Then wake (for well thou can'st) that wond'rous lay, How, while around the thoughtless matrons sleep, Soft o'er the floor the treacherous fairies creep, And bear the smiling infant far away: How starts the nurse, when, for her lovely child, She sees at dawn a gaping idiot stare! O snatch the innocent from demons vilde, And save the parents fond from fell despair! In a deep cave the trusty menials wait, When from their hilly dens, at midnight's hour, Forth rush the airy elves in mimic state, And o'er the moon-light heath with swiftness scour: In glittering arms the little horsemen shine; Last, on a milk-white steed, with targe of gold, A fay of might appears, whose arms entwine The lost, lamented child! the shepherds bold[75] The unconscious infant tear from his unhallowed hold.

[Footnote 75: For an account of the Fairy superstition, see Introduction to the Tale of Tamlane.]



MINSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER.

PART FIRST.

* * * * *

HISTORICAL BALLADS.



SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

One edition of the present ballad is well known; having appeared in the Reliques of Ancient Poetry, and having been inserted in almost every subsequent collection of Scottish songs. But it seems to have occurred to no editor, that a more complete copy of the song might be procured. That, with which the public is now presented, is taken from two MS. copies,[76] collated with several verses recited by the editor's friend, Robert Hamilton, Esq. advocate, being the 16th, and the four which follow. But, even with the assistance of the common copy, the ballad seems still to be a fragment. The cause of Sir Patrick Spens' voyage is, however, pointed out distinctly; and it shews, that the song has claim to high antiquity, as referring to a very remote period in Scottish history.

[Footnote 76: That the public might possess this carious fragment as entire as possible, the editor gave one of these copies, which seems the most perfect, to Mr. Robert Jamieson, to be inserted in his Collection.]

Alexander III. of Scotland died in 1285; and, for the misfortune of his country, as well as his own, he had been bereaved of all his children before his decease. The crown of Scotland descended upon his grand-daughter, Margaret, termed, by our historians, the Maid of Norway. She was the only offspring of a marriage betwixt Eric, king of Norway, and Margaret, daughter of Alexander III. The kingdom had been secured to her by the parliament of Scotland, held at Scone, the year preceding her grandfather's death. The regency of Scotland entered into a congress with the ministers of the king of Norway and with those of England, for the establishment of good order in the kingdom of the infant princess. Shortly afterwards, Edward I. conceived the idea of matching his eldest son, Edward, Prince of Wales, with the young queen of Scotland. The plan was eagerly embraced by the Scottish nobles; for, at that time, there was little of the national animosity, which afterwards blazed betwixt the countries, and they patriotically looked forward to the important advantage, of uniting the island of Britain into one kingdom. But Eric of Norway seems to have been unwilling to deliver up his daughter; and, while the negociations were thus protracted, the death of the Maid of Norway effectually crushed a scheme, the consequences of which might have been, that the distinction betwixt England and Scotland would, in our day, have been as obscure and uninteresting as that of the realms of the heptarchy.—Hailes' Annals. Fordun, &c.

The unfortunate voyage of Sir Patrick Spens may really have taken place, for the purpose of bringing back the Maid of Norway to her own kingdom; a purpose, which was probably defeated by the jealousy of the Norwegians, and the reluctance of King Eric. I find no traces of the disaster in Scottish history; but, when we consider the meagre materials, whence Scottish history is drawn, this is no conclusive argument against the truth of the tradition. That a Scottish vessel, sent upon such an embassy, must, as represented in the ballad, have been freighted with the noblest youth in the kingdom, is sufficiently probable; and, having been delayed in Norway, till the tempestuous season was come on, its fate can be no matter of surprise. The ambassadors, finally sent by the Scottish nation to receive their queen, were Sir David Wemyss, of Wemyss, and Sir Michael Scot of Balwearie; the same, whose knowledge, surpassing that of his age, procured him the reputation of a wizard. But, perhaps, the expedition of Sir Patrick Spens was previous to their embassy. The introduction of the king into the ballad seems a deviation from history; unless we suppose, that Alexander was, before his death, desirous to see his grand-child and heir.

The Scottish monarchs were much addicted to "sit in Dumfermline town," previous to the accession of the Bruce dynasty. It was a favourite abode of Alexander himself, who was killed by a fall from his horse, in the vicinity, and was buried in the abbey of Dumfermline.

There is a beautiful German translation of this ballad, as it appeared in the Reliques, in the Volk-Lieder of Professor Herder; an elegant work, in which it is only to be regretted, that the actual popular songs of the Germans form so trifling a proportion.

The tune of Mr. Hamilton's copy of Sir Patrick Spens is different from that, to which the words are commonly sung; being less plaintive, and having a bold nautical turn in the close.



SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

The king sits in Dumfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine; "O[77] whare will I get a skeely skippe[78], "To sail this new ship of mine?"

O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee,— "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, "That ever sail'd the sea."

Our king has written a braid letter. And seal'd it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand.

"To Noroway, to Noroway, "To Noroway o'er the faem; "The king's daughter of Noroway, "'Tis thou maun bring her hame."

The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud loud laughed he; The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his e'e.

"O wha is this has done this deed, "And tauld the king o' me, "To send us out, at this time of the year, "To sail upon the sea?

"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, "Our ship must sail the faem; "The king's daughter of Noroway, "'Tis we must fetch her hame,"

They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say,—

"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, "And a' our queenis fee." "Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! "Fu' loud I hear ye lie."

"For I brought as much white monie, "As gane[79] my men and me, "And I brought a half-fou[80] o' gude red goud, "Out o'er the sea wi' me."

"Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'! "Our gude ship sails the morn." "Now, ever alake, my master dear, "I fear a deadly storm!

"I saw the new moon, late yestreen, "Wi' the auld moon in her arm; "And if we gang to sea, master, "I fear we'll come to harm."

They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea.

The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap,[81] It was sik a deadly storm; And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn.

"O where will I get a gude sailor, "To take my helm in hand, "Till I get up to the tall top-mast, "To see if I can spy land?"

"O here am I, a sailor gude, "To take the helm in hand, "Till you go up to the tall top-mast; "But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna' gane a step, a step, A step, but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in.

"Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, "Another o' the twine, "And wap them into our ship's side, "And let na the sea come in."

They fetched a web o' the silken claith, Another of the twine, And they wapped them round that gude ship's side, But still the sea came in.

O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords To weet their cork-heel'd shoon! But lang or a' the play was play'd, They wat their hats aboon.

And mony was the feather-bed, That flattered[82] on the faem; And mony was the gude lord's son, That never mair cam hame.

The ladyes wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A' for the sake of their true loves; For them they'll see na mair.

O lang, lang, may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand!

And lang, lang, may the maidens sit, Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves! For them they'll see na mair.

O forty miles off Aberdeen, 'Tis fifty fathom deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

[Footnote 77: In singing, the interjection, O, is added to the second and fourth lines.]

[Footnote 78: Skeely skipper—Skilful mariner.]

[Footnote 79: Gane—Suffice.]

[Footnote 80: Half-fou—the eighth part of a peck.]

[Footnote 81: Lap—Sprang.]

[Footnote 82: Flattered—Fluttered, or rather floated, on the foam.]



NOTES ON SIR PATRICK SPENS.

* * * * *

To send us out at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea?—P. 8, v. 3.

By a Scottish act of parliament, it was enacted, that no ship should be fraughted out of the kingdom, with any staple goods, betwixt the feast of St. Simon's day and Jude and Candelmas.—James III. Parliament 2d, chap. 15. Such was the terror entertained for navigating the north seas in winter.

When a bout flew out of our goodly ship.—P. 10. v. 5.

I believe a modern seaman would say, a plank had started, which must have been a frequent incident during the infancy of ship-building. The remedy applied seems to be that mentioned in Cook's Voyages, when, upon some occasion, to stop a leak, which could not be got at in the inside, a quilted sail was brought under the vessel, which, being drawn into the leak by the suction, prevented the entry of more water. Chaucer says,

"There n'is no new guise that it na'as old."

O forty miles off Aberdeen,—P. 11. v. 3.

This concluding verse differs in the three copies of the ballad, which I have collated. The printed edition bears,

"Have owre, have owre to Aberdour;"

And one of the MSS. reads,

"At the back of auld St. Johnstowne Dykes."

But, in a voyage from Norway, a shipwreck on the north coast seems as probable as either in the Firth of Forth, or Tay; and the ballad states the disaster to have taken place out of sight of land.



AULD MAITLAND.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

* * * * *

This ballad, notwithstanding its present appearance, has a claim to very high antiquity. It has been preserved by tradition; and is, perhaps, the most authentic instance of a long and very old poem, exclusively thus preserved. It is only known to a few old people, upon the sequestered banks of the Ettrick; and is published, as written down from the recitation of the mother of Mr. James Hogg[83], who sings, or rather chaunts it, with great animation. She learned the ballad from a blind man, who died at the advanced age of ninety, and is said to have been possessed of much traditionary knowledge. Although the language of this poem is much modernised, yet many words, which the reciters have retained, without understanding them, still preserve traces of its antiquity. Such are the words Springals (corruptly pronounced Springwalls), sowies, portcullize, and many other appropriate terms of war and chivalry, which could never have been introduced by a modern ballad-maker. The incidents are striking and well-managed; and they are in strict conformity with the manners of the age, in which they are placed. The editor has, therefore, been induced to illustrate them, at considerable length, by parallel passages from Froissard, and other historians of the period to which the events refer.

[Footnote 83: This old woman is still alive, and at present resides at Craig of Douglas, in Selkirkshire.]

The date of the ballad cannot be ascertained with any degree of accuracy. Sir Richard Maitland, the hero of the poem, seems to have been in possession of his estate about 1250; so that, as he survived the commencement of the wars betwixt England and Scotland, in 1296, his prowess against the English, in defence of his castle of Lauder, or Thirlestane, must have been exerted during his extreme old age. He seems to have been distinguished for devotion, as well as valour; for, A.D. 1249, Dominus Ricardus de Mautlant gave to the abbey of Dryburgh, "Terras suas de Haubentside, in territorio suo de Thirlestane, pro salute animae suae, et sponsae suae, antecessorum suorum et successorum suorum, in perpetuum[84]." He also gave, to the same convent, "Omnes terras, quas Walterus de Giling tenuit in feodo suo de Thirlestane, et pastura incommuni de Thirlestane, ad quadraginta oves, sexaginta vaccas, et ad viginti equos."—Cartulary of Dryburgh Abbey, in the Advocates' Library.

[Footnote 84: There exists also an indenture, or bond, entered into by Patrick, abbot of Kelsau, and his convent, referring to an engagement betwixt them and Sir Richard Maitland, and Sir William, his eldest son, concerning the lands of Hedderwicke, and the pasturages of Thirlestane and Blythe. This Patrick was abbot of Kelso, betwixt 1258 and 1260.]

From the following ballad, and from the family traditions referred to in the Maitland MSS., Auld Maitland appears to have had three sons; but we learn, from the latter authority, that only one survived him, who was thence surnamed Burd alane, which signifies either unequalled, or solitary. A Consolation, addressed to Sir Richard Maitland of Lethington, a poet and scholar who flourished about the middle of the sixteenth century, and who gives name to the Maitland MSS., draws the following parallel betwixt his domestic misfortunes and those of the first Sir Richard, his great ancestor:

Sic destanie and derfe devoring deid Oft his own hous in hazard put of auld; Bot your forbeiris, frovard fortounes steid And bitter blastes, ay buir with breistis bauld; Luit wanweirdis work and walter ay they wald, Thair hardie hairtis hawtie and heroik, For fortounes feid or force wald never fauld; Bot stormis withstand with stomak stoat and stoik.

Renowned Richert of your race record, Quhais prais and prowis cannot be exprest; Mair lustie lynyage nevir haid ane lord, For he begat the bauldest bairnis and best, Maist manful men, and madinis maist modest, That ever wes syn Pyramus tym of Troy, But piteouslie thai peirles perles apest. Bereft him all hot Buird-allane, a boy.

Himselfe was aiget, his hous hang be a har, Duill and distres almaist to deid him draife; Yet Burd-allane, his only son and air, As wretched, vyiss, and valient, as the laive, His hous uphail'd, quhilk ye with honor haive. So nature that the lyk invyand name, [85]In kindlie cair dois kindly courage craif, To follow him in fortoune and in fame.

Richerd he wes, Richerd ye are also, And Maitland als, and magnanime as he; In als great age, als wrappit are in wo, Sewin sons[86] ye haid might contravaill his thrie, Bot Burd-allane ye haive behind as he: The lord his linage so inlarge in lyne, And mony hundreith nepotis grie and grie[87] Sen Richert wes as hundreth yeiris are hyne.

An Consolator Ballad to the Richt Honorabill Sir Richert Maitland of Lethingtoune.—Maitland MSS. in Library of Edinburgh University.

[Footnote 85: i.e. Similar family distress demands the same family courage.]

[Footnote 86: Sewin sons—This must include sons-in-law; for the last Sir Richard, like his predecessor, had only three sons, namely, I. William, the famous secretary of Queen Mary; II. Sir John, who alone survived him, and is the Burd-allane of the consolation; III. Thomas, a youth of great hopes, who died in Italy. But he had four daughters, married to gentlemen of fortune.—Pinkerton's List of Scottish Poets, p. 114.]

[Footnote 87: Grie and grie—In regular descent; from gre, French.]

Sir William Mautlant, or Maitland, the eldest and sole surviving son of Sir Richard, ratified and confirmed, to the monks of Dryburgh, "Omnes terras quas Dominus Ricardus de Mautlant pater suus fecit dictis monachis in territorio suo de Thirlestane," Sir William is supposed to have died about 1315.—Crawford's Peerage.

Such were the heroes of the ballad. The castle of Thirlestane is situated upon the Leader, near the town of Lauder. Whether the present building, which was erected by Chancellor Maitland, and improved by the Duke of Lauderdale, occupies the site of the ancient castle, I do not know; but it still merits the epithet of a "darksome house." I find no notice of the siege in history; but there is nothing improbable in supposing, that the castle, during the stormy period of the Baliol wars, may have held out against the English. The creation of a nephew of Edward I., for the pleasure of slaying him by the hand of young Maitland, is a poetical licence[88]; and may induce us to place the date of the composition about the reign of David II., or of his successor, when the real exploits of Maitland, and his sons, were in some degree obscured, as well as magnified, by the lapse of time. The inveterate hatred against the English, founded upon the usurpation of Edward I., glows in every line of the ballad.

[Footnote 88: Such liberties with the genealogy of monarchs were common to romancers. Henry the Minstrel makes Wallace slay more than one of King Edward's nephews; and Johnie Armstrong claims the merit of slaying a sister's son of Henry VIII.]

Auld Maitland is placed, by Gawain Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld, among the popular heroes of romance, in his allegorical Palice of Honour[89]:

[Footnote 89: It is impossible to pass over this curious list of Scottish romances without a note; to do any justice to the subject would require an essay.—Raf Coilyear is said to have been printed by Lekprevik, in 1572; but no copy of the edition is known to exist, and the hero is forgotten, even by popular tradition.

John the Reif, as well as the former personage, is mentioned by Dunbar, in one of his poems, where he stiles mean persons,

Kyne of Rauf Colyard, and Johne the Reif.

They seem to have been robbers: Lord Hailes conjectured John the Reif to be the same with Johnie Armstrong; but, surely, not with his usual accuracy; for the Palice of Honour was printed twenty-eight years before Johnie's execution. John the Reif is mentioned by Lindesay, in his tragedy of Cardinal Beatoun.

—disagysit, like John the Raif, he geid.—

Cowkilbeis Sow is a strange legend in the Bannatyne MSS.—See Complaynt of Scotland, p. 131.

How the wren came out of Ailsay.—The wren, I know not why, is often celebrated in Scottish song. The testament of the wren is still sung by the children, beginning,

The wren she lies in care's nest, Wi' meikle dole and pyne.

This may be a modification of the ballad in the text.]

I Saw Raf Coilyear with his thrawin brow, Crabit John the Reif, and auld Cowkilbeis Sow; And how the wran cam out of Ailsay, And Peirs Plowman[90], that meid his workmen few; Gret Gowmacmorne, and Fyn MacCowl, and how They suld be goddis in Ireland, as they say. Thair saw I Maitland upon auld beird gray, Robine Hude, and Gilbert with the quhite hand, How Hay of Nauchton flew in Madin land.

In this curious verse, the most noted romances, or popular histories, of the poet's day, seem to be noticed. The preceding stanza describes the sports of the field; and that, which follows, refers to the tricks of "jugailrie;" so that the three verses comprehend the whole pastimes of the middle ages, which are aptly represented as the furniture of dame Venus's chamber. The verse, referring to Maitland, is obviously corrupted; the true reading was, probably, "with his auld beird gray." Indeed the whole verse is full of errors and corruptions; which is the greater pity, as it conveys information, to be found no where else.

[Footnote 90: Peirs Plowman is well known. Under the uncouth names of Gow Mac Morn, and of Fyn MacCowl, the admirers of Ossian are to recognise Gaul, the son of Morni, and Fingal himself; heu quantum mutatus ab illo!

To illustrate the familiar character of Robin Hood, would be an insult to my readers. But they may be less acquainted with Gilbert with the White Hand, one of his brave followers. He is mentioned in the oldest legend of that outlaw; Ritson's Robin Hood, p. 52.

Thryes Robin shot about, And alway he slist the wand, And so dyde good Gylberte With the White Hand.

Hay of Nachton I take to be the knight, mentioned by Wintown, whose feats of war and travel may have become the subject of a romance, or ballad. He fought, in Flanders, under Alexander, Earl of Mar, in 1408, and is thus described;

Lord of the Nachtane, schire William, Ane honest knycht, and of gud fame, A travalit knycht lang before than.

And again, before an engagement,

The lord of Nachtane, schire William The Hay, a knycht than of gud fame, Mad schire Gilberte the Hay, knycht.

Cronykil, B. IX. c. 27.

I apprehend we should read "How Hay of Nachton slew in Madin Land." Perhaps Madin is a corruption for Maylin, or Milan Land.]

The descendant of Auld Maitland, Sir Richard of Lethington, seems to have been frequently complimented on the popular renown of his great ancestor. We have already seen one instance; and in an elegant copy of verses in the Maitland MSS., in praise of Sir Richard's seat of Lethingtoun, which he had built, or greatly improved, this obvious topic of flattery does not escape the poet. From the terms of his panegyric we learn, that the exploits of auld Sir Richard with the gray beard, and of his three sons, were "sung in many far countrie, albeit in rural rhyme;" from which we may infer, that they were narrated rather in the shape of a popular ballad, than in a romance of price. If this be the case, the song, now published, may have undergone little variation since the date of the Maitland MSS.; for, divesting the poem, in praise of Lethington, of its antique spelling, it would run as smoothly, and appear as modern, as any verse in the following ballad. The lines alluded to, are addressed to the castle of Lethington:

And happie art thou sic a place, That few thy mak ar sene: But yit mair happie far that race To quhome thou dois pertene. Quha dais not knaw the Maitland bluid, The best in all this land? In quhilk sumtyme the honour stuid And worship of Scotland.

Of auld Sir Richard, of that name, We have hard sing and say; Of his triumphant nobill fame, And of his auld baird gray. And of his nobill sonnis three, Quhilk that tyme had no maik; Quhilk maid Scotland renounit be, And all England to quaik.

Quhais luifing praysis, maid trewlie, Efter that simple tyme, Ar sung in monie far countrie, Albeit in rural rhyme. And, gif I dar the treuth declair, And nane me fleitschour call, I can to him find a compair, And till his barnis all.

It is a curious circumstance, that this interesting tale, so often referred to by ancient authors, should be now recovered in so perfect a state; and many readers may be pleased to see the following sensible observations, made by a person, born in Ettrick Forest, in the humble situation of a shepherd. "I am surprised to hear, that this song is suspected by some to be a modern forgery; the contrary will be best proved, by most of the old people, hereabouts, having a great part of it by heart. Many, indeed, are not aware of the manners of this country; till this present age, the poor illiterate people, in these glens, knew of no other entertainment, in the long winter nights, than repeating, and listening to, the feats of their ancestors, recorded in songs, which I believe to be handed down, from father to son, for many generations; although, no doubt, had a copy been taken, at the end of every fifty years, there must have been some difference, occasioned by the gradual change of language. I believe it is thus that many very ancient songs have been gradually modernised, to the common ear; while, to the connoisseur, they present marks of their genuine antiquity."—Letter to the Editor from Mr. James Hogg. To the observations of my ingenious correspondent I have nothing to add, but that, in this, and a thousand other instances, they accurately coincide with my personal knowledge.



AULD MAITLAND.

* * * * *

There lived a king in southern land, King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane.

He had a sister's son o's ain, Was large of blood and bane; And afterward, when he came up, Young Edward hight his name.

One day he came before the king, And kneel'd low on his knee— "A boon, a boon, my good uncle, "I crave to ask of thee!

"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland, "I fain hae wished to be; "If fifteen hundred waled[90] wight men "You'll grant to ride wi' me."

"Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae mae; "I say it sickerlie; "And I mysell, an auld gray man, "Array'd your host sall see."

King Edward rade, King Edward ran— I wish him dool and pyne! Till he had fifteen hundred men Assembled on the Tyne.

And thrice as many at Berwicke[91] Were all for battle bound, Who, marching forth with false Dunbar, A ready welcome found.

They lighted on the banks of Tweed, And blew their coals sae het, And fired the Merse and Teviotdale, All in an evening late.

As they fared up o'er Lammermore, They burned baith up and down, Until they came to a darksome house; Some call it Leader-Town.

"Wha hauds this house?" young Edward cry'd, "Or wha gies't ower to me?" A gray-hair'd knight set up his head, And crackit right crousely:

"Of Scotland's king I haud my house; "He pays me meat and fee; "And I will keep my gude auld house, "While my house will keep me."

They laid their sowies to the wall, Wi' mony a heavy peal; But he threw ower to them agen Baith pitch and tar barrel.

With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn, Amang them fast he threw; Till mony of the Englishmen About the wall he slew.

Full fifteen days that braid host lay, Sieging Auld Maitland keen, Syne they hae left him, hail and fair, Within his strength of stane.

Then fifteen barks, all gaily good, Met them upon a day, Which they did lade with as much spoil As they could bear away.

"England's our ain by heritage; "And what can us withstand, "Now we hae conquer'd fair Scotland, "With buckler, bow, and brand?"

Then they are on to the land o' France, Where auld King Edward lay, Burning baith castle, tower, and town, That he met in his way,

Untill he came unto that town, Which some call Billop-Grace; There were Auld Maitland's sons, a' three, Learning at school, alas!

The eldest to the youngest said, "O see ye what I see? "Gin a' be trew yon standard says[92], "We're fatherlesse a' three.

"For Scotland's conquer'd, up and down; "Landmen we'll never be: "Now, will ye go, my brethren two, "And try some jeopardy?"

Then they hae saddled twa black horse, Twa black horse, and a grey; And they are on to King Edward's host, Before the dawn of day.

When they arriv'd before the host, They hover'd on the lay— "Wilt thou lend me our king's standard, "To bear a little way?"

"Where was thou bred? where was thou born? "Where, or in what countrie?" "In north of England I was born: (It needed him to lie.)

"A knight me gat, a lady bore, "I'm a squire of high renowne; I well may bear't to any king, "That ever yet wore crowne."

"He ne'er came of an Englishman, "Had sic an e'e or bree; "But thou art the likest Auld Maitland, "That ever I did see.

"But sick a gloom, on ae brow-head, "Grant I ne'er see agane! "For mony of our men he slew, "And mony put to pain."

When Maitland heard his father's name, An angry man was he! Then, lifting up a gilt dagger, Hung low down by his knee,

He stabb'd the knight, the standard bore, He stabb'd him cruellie; Then caught the standard by the neuk, And fast away rode he.

"Now, is't na time, brothers," he cried, "Now, is't na time to flee?" "Aye, by my sooth!" they baith replied, "We'll bear you company."

The youngest turn'd him in a path, And drew a burnished brand, And fifteen of the foremost slew, Till back the lave did stand.

He spurr'd the gray into the path, Till baith his sides they bled— "Gray! thou maun carry me away, "Or my life lies in wad!"

The captain lookit ower the wa', About the break o' day; There he beheld the three Scots lads, Pursued along the way.

"Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg! "My nephews are at hand; And they sall lodge wi' me to-night, "In spite of all England."

Whene'er they came within the yate, They thrust their horse them frae, And took three lang spears in their hands, Saying, "Here sall come nae mae!".

And they shot out, and they shot in, Till it was fairly day; When mony of the Englishmen About the draw-brigg lay.

Then they hae yoked carts and wains, To ca' their dead away, And shot auld dykes aboon the lave, In gutters where they lay.

The king, at his pavilion door, Was heard aloud to say, "Last night, three o' the lads o' France "My standard stole away.

"Wi' a fause tale, disguised, they came, "And wi' a fauser trayne; "And to regain my gaye standard, "These men were a' down slayne."

"It ill befits," the youngest said, "A crowned king to lie; "But, or that I taste meat and drink, "Reproved sall he be."

He went before King Edward strait, And kneel'd low on his knee; "I wad hae leave, my lord," he said, "To speak a word wi' thee."

The king he turned him round about, And wistna what to say— Quo' he, "Man, thou's hae leave to speak, Tho' thou should speak a' day."

"Ye said, that three young lads o' France "Your standard stole away, "Wi' a fause tale, and fauser trayne, "And mony men did slay:

"But we are nane the lads o' France, "Nor e'er pretend to be; "We are three lads o' fair Scotland, "Auld Maitland's sons are we;

"Nor is there men, in a' your host, "Daur fight us, three to three." "Now, by my sooth," young Edward said, "Weel fitted ye sall be!

"Piercy sall wi' the eldest fight, "And Ethert Lunn wi' thee; "William of Lancaster the third, "And bring your fourth to me!"

"Remember, Piercy, aft the Scot[93] "Has cow'rd beneath thy hand: "For every drap of Maitland blood, "I'll gie a rigg of land."

He clanked Piercy ower the head, A deep wound and a sair, Till the best blood o' his bodie Cam rinning down his hair.

"Now, I've slayne ane; slay ye the twa; "And that's gude companye; "And if the twa suld slay you baith, "Ye'se get na help frae me."

But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear, Had many battles seen; He set the youngest wonder sair, Till the eldest he grew keen—

"I am nae king, nor nae sic thing: "My word it shanna stand! "For Ethert sail a buffet bide, "Come he beneath my brand."

He clanked Ethert ower the head, A deep wound and a sair, Till the best blood of his bodie Cam rinning ower his hair.

"Now I've slayne twa; slay ye the ane; "Is na that gude companye? "And tho' the ane suld slay ye baith, "Ye'se get na help o' me."

The twa-some they hae slayne the ane; They maul'd him cruellie; Then hung them over the draw-brigg, That all the host might see.

They rade their horse, they ran their horse, Then hovered on the lee; "We be three lads o' fair Scotland, "That fain wad fighting see."

This boasting, when young Edward heard. An angry man was he! "I'll take yon lad, I'll bind yon lad, "And bring him bound to thee!"

"Now, God forbid," King Edward said, "That ever thou suld try! "Three worthy leaders we hae lost, "And thou the fourth wad lie.

"If thou should'st hang on yon draw-brigg, "Blythe wad I never be!" But, wi' the poll-axe in his hand, Upon the brigg sprang he.

The first stroke that young Edward gae, He struck wi' might and mayn; He clove the Maitlan's helmet stout, And bit right nigh the brayn.

When Maitland saw his ain blood fa', An angry man was he! He let his weapon frae him fa', And at his throat did flee.

And thrice about he did him swing, Till on the grund he light, Where he has halden young Edward, Tho' he was great in might.

"Now, let him up," King Edward cried, "And let him come to me! "And, for the deed that thou hast done, "Thou shalt hae erldomes three!"

"Its ne'er be said in France, nor e'er In Scotland, when I'm hame, That Edward once lay under me, And e'er gat up again!"

He pierced him through and through the heart; He maul'd him cruellie; Then hung him ower the draw-brigg, Beside the other three.

"Now, take frae me that feather-bed! "Mak me a bed o' strae! "I wish I had na lived this day, "To mak my heart sae wae.

"If I were ance at London tower, "Where I was wont to be, "I never mair suld gang frae hame, "Till borne on a bier-tree."

[Footnote 90: Waled—Chosen.]

[Footnote 91: North-Berwick, according to some reciters.]

[Footnote 92: Edward had quartered the arms of Scotland with his own.]

[Footnote 93: The two first lines are modern, to supply an imperfect stanza.]



NOTES ON AULD MAITLAND.

* * * * *

Young Edward hight his name.—P, 25. v. 2.

Were it possible to find an authority for calling this personage Edmund, we should be a step nearer history; for a brother, though not a nephew of Edward I., so named, died in Gascony during an unsuccessful campaign against the French.—Knighton, Lib. III. cap. 8.

I wish him dool and pyne.—P. 26. v. 3.

Thus, Spenser, in Mother Huberd's tale—

Thus is this ape become a shepherd swain, And the false fox his dog, God give them pain!

Who, marching forth with false Dunbar, A ready welcome found.—P. 26. v. 4.

These two lines are modern, and inserted to complete the verse. Dunbar, the fortress of Patrick, Earl of March, was too often opened to the English, by the treachery of that baron, during the reign of Edward I.

They laid their sowies to the wall, Wi' many a heavy peal.—P. 27. v. 4.

In this and the following verse, the attack and defence of a fortress, during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is described accurately and concisely. The sow was a military engine, resembling the Roman testudo. It was framed of wood, covered with hides, and mounted on wheels, so that, being rolled forwards to the foot of the besieged wall, it served as a shed, or cover, to defend the miners, or those who wrought the battering ram, from the stones and arrows of the garrison. In the course of the famous defence, made by Black Agnes, Countess of March, of her husband's castle of Dunbar, Montague, Earl of Salisbury, who commanded the besiegers, caused one of these engines to be wheeled up to the wall. The countess, who, with her damsels, kept her station on the battlements, and affected to wipe off with her handkerchief the dust raised by the stones, hurled from the English machines, awaited the approach of this new engine of assault. "Beware, Montague," she exclaimed, while the fragment of a rock was discharged from the wall—"Beware, Montague! for farrow shall thy sow!"[94] Their cover being dashed to pieces, the assailants, with great loss and difficulty, scrambled back to their trenches. "By the regard of suche a ladye," would Froissart have said, "and by her comforting, a man ought to be worth two men, at need." The sow was called by the French Truie.—See Hailes' Annals, Vol. II. p. 89. Wintown's Cronykil, Book VIII. William of Malmesbury, Lib. IV.

The memory of the sow is preserved in Scotland by two trifling circumstances. The name given to an oblong hay-stack, is a hay-sow; and this may give us a good idea of the form of the machine. Children also play at a game with cherry stones, placing a small heap on the ground, which they term a sowie, endeavouring to hit it, by throwing single cherry-stones, as the sow was formerly battered from the walls of the besieged fortress. My companions, at the High School of Edinburgh, will remember what was meant by berrying a sowie. It is strange to find traces of military antiquities in the occupation of the husbandman, and the sports of children.

[Footnote 94: This sort of bravade seems to have been fashionable in those times: "Et avec drapeaux, et leurs chaperons, ils torchoient les murs a l'endroit, ou les pierres venoient frapper."—Notice des Manuscrits de la Bibliotheque Nationale.]

The pitch and tar-barrels of Maitland were intended to consume the formidable machines of the English. Thus, at a fabulous siege of York, by Sir William Wallace, the same mode of defence is adopted:

The Englishmen, that cruel were and kene, Keeped their town, and fended there full fast; Faggots of fire among the host they cast, Up pitch and tar on feil sowis they lent; Many were hurt ere they from the walls went; Stones on Springalds they did cast out so fast, And goads of iron made many grome agast.

Henry the Minstrel's History of Wallace.—B. 8. c. 5.

A more authentic illustration may be derived from Barbour's Account of the Siege of Berwick, by Edward II., in 1319, when a sow was brought on to the attack by the English, and burned by the combustibles hurled down upon it, through the device of John Crab, a Flemish engineer, in the Scottish service.

And thai, that at the sege lay, Or it was passyt the fyft day, Had made thaim syndry apparall, To gang eft sonys till assaill. Off gret gests a sow thai maid, That stalwart heildyne aboyne it haid; With armyt men inew tharin, And instruments for to myne.

Syndry scaffalds thai maid withall, That war wele heyar than the wall, And ordanyt als that, be the se, The town suld weill assaillyt be.

Thai within, that saw thaim swa, Swa gret apparaill schap to ma, Throw Craby's cunsaill, that wes sley, A crane thai haiff gert dress up hey, Rynnand on quheills, that thai micht bryng It quhar that nede war off helping. And pyk, and ter, als haiff thai tane; And lynt, and herds, and brymstane; And dry treyis that wele wald brin, And mellyt aythir other in: And gret fagalds thairoff thai maid, Gyrdyt with irne bands braid. The fagalds weill mycht mesuryt be, Till a gret towrys quantite. The fagalds bryning in a ball, With thair cran thoucht till awaill; And giff the sow come to the wall, To lat it brynand on her fall; And with stark chenyeis hald it thar, Quhill all war brynt up that thar war.

* * * * *

Upon sic maner gan thai fycht, Quhill it wes ner none off the day, That thai without, on gret aray, Pryssyt thair sow towart the wall; And thai within sune gert call The engynour, that takyn was, And gret manance till hym mais, And swour that he suld dey, bot he Prowyt on the sow sic sutelte That he to fruschyt ilk dele, And he, that hath persawyt wele That the dede wes wele ner hym till, Bot giff he mycht fulfil thair will Thoucht that he at hys mycht wald do.

Bendyt in gret by then wes sche, That till the sow wes ewyn set. In hy he gert draw the cleket; And smertly swappyt owt a stane, Ewyn our the sow the stane is gane, And behind it a litill way It fell: and then they cryt, "Hey!" That war in hyr, "furth to the wall, For dredles it is ours all!"

The gynour than deleuerly Gert bend the gyn in full gret hy; And the stane smertly swappyt out. It flaw out quethyr, and with a rout, And fell rycht ewyn befor the sow. Thair harts than begouth to grow. Bot yhet than, with thair mychts all Thai pressyt the sow towart the wall; And has hyr set tharto gentilly. The gynour than gert bend in hy The gyne, and wappyt owt the stane, That ewyn towart the lyft is gane, And with gret wycht syne duschyt doun, Rycht be the wall in a randoun; And hyt the sow in sic maner, That it that wes the maist sowar, And starkast for to stynt a strak, In sundre with that dusche it brak. The men than owt in full gret hy, And on the wallis thai gan cry, That thair sow wes feryt thar. Jhon Crab, that had hys geer all yar In hys fagalds has set the fyr, And our the wall syne gan thai wyr, And brynt the sow till brands bar.

The Bruce, Book XVII

The springalds, used in defence of the castle of Lauder, were balistae, or large cross-bows, wrought by machinery, and capable of throwing stones, beams, and huge darts. They were numbered among the heavy artillery of the age; "Than the kynge made all his navy to draw along, by the cost of the Downes, every ship well garnished with bombardes, crosbowes, archers, springalls, and other artillarie."—Froissart.

Goads, or sharpened bars of iron, were an obvious and formidable missile weapon. Thus, at the assault of Rochemiglion "They within cast out great barres of iron, and pots with lyme, wherewith they hurt divers Englishmen, such as adventured themselves too far."—Froissart, Vol. I. cap. 108.

From what has been noticed, the attack and defence of Lauder castle will be found strictly conformable to the manners of the age; a circumstance of great importance, in judging of the antiquity of the ballad. There is no mention of guns, though these became so common in the latter part of the reign of Edward III., that, at the siege of St. Maloes, "the English had well a four hondred gonnes, who shot day and night into the fortresse, and agaynst it."—Froissart, Vol. I. cap. 336. Barbour informs us, that guns, or "crakis of wer," as he calls them, and crests for helmets, were first seen by the Scottish, in their skirmishes with Edward the Third's host, in Northumberland A.D. 1327.

Which some call Billop-Grace.—P. 28. v. 5.

If this be a Flemish, or Scottish, corruption for Ville de Grace, in Normandy, that town was never besieged by Edward I., whose wars in France were confined to the province of Gascony. The rapid change of scene, from Scotland to France, excites a suspicion, that some verses may have been lost in this place. The retreat of the English host, however, may remind us of a passage, in Wintown, when, after mentioning that the Earl of Salisbury raised the siege of Dunbar, to join King Edward in France, he observes,

"It was to Scotland a gud chance, "That thai made thaim to werray in France; "For had thai halyly thaim tane "For to werray in Scotland allane.

Eftyr the gret mischeffis twa, Duplyn and Hallydowne war tha, Thai suld have skaithit it to gretly. Bot fortowne thoucht scho fald fekilly Will noucht at anis myscheffis fall; Thare-fore scho set thare hartis all, To werray Fraunce richit to be, That Scottis live in grettar le.

Cronykil, B. VIII. cap. 34.

Now, will ye go, my brethren two, And try some jeopardie?—P. 29. v. 2.

The romantic custom of atchieving, or attempting, some desperate and perilous adventure, without either necessity or cause, was a peculiar, and perhaps the most prominent, feature of chivalry. It was not merely the duty, but the pride and delight, of a true knight, to perform such exploits, as no one but a madman would have undertaken. I think it is in the old French romance of Erec and Eneide, that an adventure, the access to which lay through an avenue of stakes, garnished with the bloody heads of the knights who had attempted and failed to atchieve it, is called by the inviting title of La joie de la Cour. To be first in advancing, or last in retreating; to strike upon the gate of a certain fortress of the enemy; to fight blindfold, or with one arm tied up; to carry off a banner, or to defend one; were often the subjects of a particular vow, among the sons of chivalry. Until some distinguishing exploit of this nature, a young knight was not said to have won his spurs; and, upon some occasions, he was obliged to bear, as a mark of thraldom, a chain upon his arm, which was removed, with great ceremony, when his merit became conspicuous. These chains are noticed in the romance of Jehan de Saintre. In the language of German chivalry, they were called Ketten des Gelubdes (fetters of duty). Lord Herbert of Cherbury informs us, that the knights of the Bath were obliged to wear certain strings, of silk and gold, upon their left arm, until they had atchieved some noble deed of arms. When Edward III. commenced his French wars, many of the young bachelors of England bound up one of their eyes with a silk ribband, and swore, before the peacock and the ladies, that they would not see with both eyes until they had accomplished certain deeds of arms in France.—Froissart, cap. 28.

A remarkable instance of this chivalrous frenzy occurred during the expedition of Sir Robert Knowles, who, in 1370, marched through France, and laid waste the country, up to the very gates of Paris. "There was a knighte, in their companye, had made a vowe, the day before, that he wolde ryde to the walles or gates of Parys, and stryke at the barryers with his speare. And, for the fournyshing of his vowe, he departed fro his companye, his spear in his fyst, his shelde about his neck, armed at all pecesse, on a good horsse, his squyer on another, behinde him, with his bassenet. And whan he approached neare to Parys, he toke and dyde on his helme, and left his squyer behind hym, and dashed his spurres to his horsse, and came gallopynge to the barryers, the whiche as then were opyn; and the lordes, that were there, had wened he wolde have entred into the towne; but that was not his mynde; for, when he hadde stryken at the barryers, as he had before avowed, he towrned his reyne, and drue back agayne, and departed. Than the knightes of France, that sawe hym depart, sayd to hym, 'Go your waye; you have ryghte well acquitted yourself.' I can nat tell you what was thys knyghtes name, nor of what contre; but the blazure of his armes was, goules, two fusses sable, a border sable. Howbeit, in the subbarbes, he had a sore encontre; for, as he passed on the pavement, he founde before hym a bocher, a bigge man, who had well sene this knighte pass by. And he helde in his handes a sharpe hevy axe, with a longe poynt; and, as the knyght returned agayne, and toke no hede, this bocher came on his side, and gave the knyghte suche a stroke, betwene the neck and the shulders, that he reversed forwarde heedlynge, to the neck of his horsse, and yet he recovered agayne. And than the bocher strake hym agayne, so that the axe entered into his body, so that, for payne, the knyghte fell to the erthe, and his horsse ran away, and came to the squyer, who abode for his mayster at the stretes ende. And so, the squyer toke the horsse, and had gret marveyle what was become of his mayster; for he had well sene him ryde to the barryers, and stryke therat with his glayve, and retourne agayne. Thanne he rode a lytell forthe, thyderwarde, and anone he sawe where his master layn upon the erthe, bytwene foure men, layenge on him strokes, as they wolde have stryken on a stethey (anvil); and than the squyer was so affreyed, that he durst go no farther; for he sawe well he could nat helpe his mayster. Therefore he retourned as fast as he myght: so there the sayd knyghte was slayne. And the knyghtes, that were at the gate, caused hym to be buried in holy ground."—Froissart, ch. 281.

A similar instance of a military jeopardy occurs in the same author, ch. 364. It happened before the gates of Troyes. "There was an Englyshe squyre, borne in the bishopryke of Lincolne, an expert man of armes; I can nat say whyder he could se or nat; but he spurred his horse, his speare in his hande, and his targe about his necke; his horse came rushyng downe the waye, and lept clene over the barres of the baryers, and so galoped to the gate, where as the duke of Burgoyne and the other lords of France were, who reputed that dede for a great enterprise. The squyer thoughte to have returned, but he could nat; for his horse was stryken with speares, and beaten downe, and the squyer slayn; wherewith the Duke of Burgoyne was right sore displeased."

Wilt thou lend me our king's standard, To bear a little way?—P. 29. v. 4.

In all ages, and in almost all countries, the military standards have been objects of respect to the soldiery, whose duty it is to range beneath them, and, if necessary, to die in their defence. In the ages of chivalry, these ensigns were distinguished by their shape, and by the various names of banners, pennons, penoncelles, &c., according to the number of men, who were to fight under them. They were displayed, on the day of battle, with singular solemnity, and consigned to the charge only of such as were thought willing and able to defend them to the uttermost. When the army of Edward, the Black Prince, was drawn up against that of Henry the Bastard, king of Castile, "Than Sir Johan Chandos brought his baner, rolled up togyder, to the prince, and said, 'Sir, behold, here is my baner. I requyre you display it abrode, and give me leave, this daye, to raise it; for, sir, I thanke God and you, I have land and heritage suffyciente to maynteyne it withal.' Than the prince, and King Dampeter (Don Pedro), toke the baner betwene their handes, and spred it abrode, the which was of sylver, a sharp pyle gaules, and delyvered it to hym, and said, 'Sir Johan, behold here youre baner; God sende you joye and honour thereof!' Than Sir Johan Chandos bare his baner to his owne company, and sayde, 'Sirs, beholde here my baner, and yours; kepe it as your owne.' And they toke it, and were right joyful therof, and sayd, that, by the pleasure of God, and Saint George, they wold kepe and defend it to the best of their powers. And so the baner abode in the handes of a good Englishe squyer, called William Alery, who bare it that day, and acquaytted himself right nobly."—Froissart, Vol. I. ch. 237. The loss of a banner was not only great dishonour, but an infinite disadvantage. At the battle of Cocherel, in Normandy, the flower of the combatants, on each side, were engaged in the attack and defence of the banner of the captall of Buche, the English leader. It was planted amid a bush of thorns, and guarded by sixty men at arms, who defended it gallantly. "There were many rescues, and many a one hurt and cast to the earth, and many feats of armes done, and many gret strokes given, with good axes of steel, that it was wonder to behold." The battle did not cease until the captall's standard was taken and torn to pieces.

We learn, from the following passage in Stowe's Chronicle, that the standard of Edward I. was a golden dragon. "The king entred Wales with an army, appointing the footmen to occupie the enemies in fight, whiles his horsemen, in a wing, set on the rere battell: himselfe, with a power, kept his place, where he pight his golden dragon, unto whiche, as to a castle, the wounded and wearied might repair."

"Where was thou bred? where was thou born? Where, or in what countrie?" "In north of England I was born: (It needed him to lie.)—P. 29. v. 5.

Stratagems, such as that of Maitland, were frequently practised with success, in consequence of the complete armour worn by the knights of the middle ages. In 1359, Edward III. entered France, to improve the success of the battle of Poictiers. Two French knights, Sir Galahaut of Rybamont, and Sir Roger of Cologne, rode forth, with their followers, to survey the English host, and, in short, to seek adventures. It chanced that they met a foraging party of Germans, retained in King Edward's service, under the command of Reynold of Boulant, a knight of that nation. By the counsel of a squire of his retinue, Sir Galahaut joined company with the German knight, under the assumed character of Bartholomew de Bonne, Reynold's countryman, and fellow soldier in the English service. The French knights "were a 70 men of armes, and Sir Renolde had not past a 30; and, whan Sir Renolde saw theym, he displayed his baner befor hym, and came softely rydynge towarde theym, wenyng to hym that they had been Englyshemen. Whan he approched, he lyft up hys vyser, saluted Sir Galahaut, in the name of Sir Bartylmewe de Bonnes. Sir Galahaut helde hymselfe styll secrete, and answered but fayntly, and sayd, 'let us ryde forth;' and so rode on, and hys men, on the one syde, and the Almaygnes on the other. Whan Sir Renolde of Boulant sawe theyr maner, and howe Sir Galahaut rode sometyme by hym, and spake no word, than he began to suspecte. And he had not so ryden, the space of a quarter of an hour, but he stode styll, under his baner, among hys men, and sayd, 'Sir, I have dout what knyght ye be. I thynke ye be nat Sir Bartylmewe, for I knowe hym well; and I see well that yt ys nat you. I woll ye telle me your name, or I ryde any farter in your company.' Therwith Sir Galahaut lyft up hys vyser, and rode towardes the knyght to have taken hym by the raygne of hys brydell, and cryed, 'Our Ladye of Rybamont!' than Sir Roger of Coloyne sayd, 'Coloyne to the rescue!'[95] Whan Sir Renolde of Boulant sawe what case he was in, he was nat gretly afrayed, but drewe out his sworde; and, as Sir Galahaut wolde have taken hym by the brydell, Sir Renolde put his sworde clene through hym, and drue agayne hys sworde out of hym, and toke his horse, with the spurres, and left Sir Galahaut sore hurt. And, whan Sir Galahautes men sawe theyr master in that case, they were sore dyspleased, and set on Sir Renolde's men; there were many cast to the yerth, but as sone as Sir Renolde had gyven Sir Galahaut that stroke, he strak hys horse with the spurres, and toke the feldes. Than certayne of Galahaut's squyers chasyd hym, and, whan he sawe that they folowed hym so nere, that he muste other tourne agayne, or els be shamed, lyke a hardy knyght he tourned, and abode the foremost, and gave hym such a stroke, that he had no more lyste to folwe him. And thus, as he rode on, he served three of theym, that folowed hym, and wounded theym sore: if a goode axe had been in hys hand, at every stroke he had slayne a man. He dyd so muche, that he was out of danger of the Frenchmen, and saved hymselfe withoute any hurte; the whyche hys enemyes reputed for a grete prowess, and so dyd all other that harde thereof; but hys men were nere slayne or taken, but few that were saved. And Sir Galahaut was caryed from thence sore hurt to Perone; of that hurt he was never after perfectly hole; for he was a knyght of suche courage, that, for all his hurte, he wold not spare hymselfe; wherefore he lyved not long after."—Froissart, Vol. I. Chap. 207.

[Footnote 95: The war-cries of their family.]

The youngest turn'd him in a path, And drew a burnished brand, &c.—P. 31. v. 2.

Thus, Sir Walter Mauny, retreating into the fortress of Hanyboute, after a successful sally, was pursued by the besiegers, who ranne after them, lyke madde men; than Sir Gualtier saide, "Let me never be beloved wyth my lady, without I have a course wyth one of these folowers!" and turning, with his lance in the rest, he overthrew several of his pursuers, before he condescended to continue his retreat.

Whene'er they came within the yate, They thrust their horse them frae, &c.—P. 32. v. 1.

"The Lord of Hangest (pursued by the English) came so to the barryers (of Vandonne) that were open, as his happe was, and so entred in therat, and than toke his speare, and turned him to defence, right valiantly."—Froissart, Vol. I. Chap. 367.

They rade their horse, they ran their horse, Then hovered on the lee, &c.—P. 36. v. 1.

The sieges, during the middle ages, frequently afforded opportunity for single combat, of which the scene was usually the draw-bridge, or barriers, of the town. The former, as the more desperate place of battle, was frequently chosen by knights, who chose to break a lance for honour, and their ladies' love. In 1387, Sir William Douglas, lord of Nithisdale, upon the draw-bridge of the town of Carlisle, consisting of two beams, hardly two feet in breadth, encountered and slew, first, a single champion of England, and afterwards two, who attacked him together.—Forduni Scotichronicon, Lib. XIV. cap. 51.

He brynt the surburbys of Carlele, And at the bareris he faucht sa wele, That on thare bryg he slw a man, The wychtast that in the town wes than: Quhare, on a plank of twa feet brade, He stude, and twa gude payment made, That he feld twa stout fechteris, And but skath went till his feres.

Wintown's Cronykil, Book IX. Chap. 8.

These combats at the barriers, or palisades, which formed the outer fortification of a town, were so frequent, that the mode of attack and defence was early taught to the future knight, and continued long to be practised in the games of chivalry. The custom, therefore, of defying the inhabitants of a besieged town to this sort of contest, was highly fashionable in the middle ages; and an army could hardly appear before a place, without giving rise to a variety of combats at the barriers, which were, in general, conducted without any unfair advantage being taken on either part.

The following striking example of this romantic custom occurs in Froissart. During the French wars of Edward the Black Prince, and in the year 1370, a body of English, and of adventurers retained in his service, approached the city of Noyon, then occupied by a French garrison, and arrayed themselves, with displayed banners, before the town, defying the defenders to battle. "There was a Scottysh knyghte[96] dyde there a goodly feate of armes, for he departed fro his companye, hys speare in hys hand, and mounted on a good horse, hys page behynde hyme, and so came before the barryers. Thys knyghte was called Sir Johan Assueton,[97] a hardy man and a couragyous. Whan he was before the barryers of Noyon, he lyghted a-fote, and sayd to hys page, 'Holde, kepe my horse, and departe nat hens;' and so wente to the barryers. And wythyn the barryers, there were good knyghtes; as, Sir John of Roy, Sir Lancelat of Loutys, and a x or xii other, who had grete marveyle what thys sayde knyghte wolde do. Than he sayde to them, 'Sirs, I am come hyder to se you. I se well, ye wyll nat issue out of your barryers; therefore I will entre, and I can, and wyll prove my knyghthode agaynst yours; wyn me and ye can.' And therewyth he layde on, round about hym, and they at hym. And thus, he alone fought agaynst them, more than an houre; and dyd hurte two or three of them; so that they of the towne, on the walles and garrettes, stode still, and behelde them, and had great pleasure to regarde his valyauntness, and dyd him no hurte; the whiche they myght have done, if they hadde list to have shotte, or cast stones at hym. And also the French knyghtes charged them to let hym and them alone togyder. So long they foughte, that, at last, his page came near to the barryers, and spake in his langage, and sayd, 'Sir, come awaye; it is time for you to departe, for your cumpanye is departyng hens.' The knyghte harde hym well, and than gave a two or three strokes about him, and so, armed as he was, he lepte out of the barryers, and lepte upon his horse, without any hurte, behynde his page; and sayd to the Frenchemen, 'Adue, sirs! I thank you;' and so rode forthe to his owne company. The whiche dede was moche praysed of many folkes."—Froissart, cap. 278.

[Footnote 96: By the terms of the peace betwixt England and Scotland, the Scottish were left at liberty to take service either with France or England, at their pleasure. Sir Robert Knolles, therefore, who commanded the expedition, referred to in the text, had under his command a hundred Scottish spears.]

[Footnote 97: Assueton is a corruption for Swinton. Sir John Swinton, of Swinton, was a Scottish champion, noted for his courage and gigantic stature.]

The barriers, so often alluded to, are described, by the same admirable historian, to be grated pallisades, the grates being about half a foot wide. In a skirmish before Honycourt, Sir Henry of Flanders ventured to thrust his sword so far through one of those spaces, that a sturdy abbot, who was within, seized his sword-arm, and drew it through the harriers, up to the shoulder. In this aukward situation he remained for some time, being unwilling to dishonour himself by quitting his weapon. He was at length rescued, but lost his sword; which Froissart afterwards saw preserved, as a relique, in the monastery of Honycourt.—Vol. I. chap. 39. For instances of single combats, at the barriers, see the same author, passim.

And if the twa suld slay ye baith, Ye'se get na help frae me.—P. 34. v. 5.

According to the laws of chivalry, laws, which were also for a long time observed in duels, when two or more persons were engaged on each side, he, who first conquered his immediate antagonist, was at liberty, if he pleased, to come to the assistance of his companions. The play of the "Little French Lawyer" turns entirely upon this circumstance; and it may be remarked throughout the poems of Boiardo and Ariosto; particularly in the combat of three Christian and three Pagan champions, in the 42d canto of Orlando Furioso. But doubtless a gallant knight was often unwilling, like young Maitland, to avail himself of this advantage. Something of this kind seems to have happened in the celebrated combat, fought in the presence of James II. at Stirling, in 1449, between three French, or Flemish, warriors, and three noble Scottishmen, two of whom were of the house of Douglas. The reader will find a literal translation of Olivier de la Marche's account of this celebrated tourney, in Pinkerton's History, Vol. I. p. 428.

I am nae king, nor nae sic thing: My word it shanna stand!—P. 35. v. 2.

Maitland's apology for retracting his promise to stand neuter, is as curious as his doing so is natural. The unfortunate John of France was wont to say, that, if truth and faith were banished from all the rest of the universe, they should still reside in the breast and the mouth of kings.

They maul'd him cruellie.—P. 35. v. 5.

This has a vulgar sound, but is actually a phrase of romance. Tant frappent et maillent lex deux vassaux l'un sur l'autre, que leurs heaumes, et leurs hauberts, sont tous cassez et rompus.—La fleur des Battailes.

But, wi' the poll-axe in his hand, Upon the brigg sprang he.—P. 36. v. 4.

The battle-axe, of which there are many kinds, was a knightly weapon, much used in the middle ages, as well in single combat as in battle. "And also there was a younge bachelor, called Bertrande of Glesguyne, who duryng the seige, fought wyth an Englyshman, called Sir Nycholas Dagerne; and that batayle was takene thre courses wyth a speare, thre strokes wyth an axe, and thre wyth a dagger. And eche of these knyghtes bare themselves so valyantly, that they departed fro the felde wythout any damage, and they were well regarded, bothe of theyme wythyn, and they wythout." This happened at the siege of Rennes, by the Duke of Lancaster, in 1357.—Froissart, Vol. I. c. 175. With the same weapon Godfrey of Harcourt long defended himself, when surprised and defeated by the French. "And Sir Godfraye's men kepte no goode array, nor dyd nat as they had promysed; moost part of theyme fledde: whan Sir Godfraye sawe that, he sayde to hymselfe, howe he had rather there be slayne than be taken by the Frenchmen; there he toke hys axe in hys handes, and set fast the one legge before the other, to stonde the more surely; for hys one legge was a lytell crooked, but he was strong in the armes. Ther he fought valyantly and long: none durste well abyde hys strokes; than two Frenchmen mounted on theyr horses, and ranne both with their speares at ones at hym, and so bare hym to the yerth: than other, that were a-fote, came wyth theyr swerdes, and strake hym into the body, under his barneys, so that ther he was slayne."—Ibid, chap. 172. The historian throws Sir Godfrey into a striking attitude of desperation.

When Maitland saw his ain blude fa', An angry man was he,—P. 37, v. 1.

There is a saying, that a Scottishman fights best after seeing his own blood. Camerarius has contrived to hitch this foolish proverb into a national compliment; for he quotes it as an instance of the persevering gallantry of his countrymen. "Si in pugna proprium effundi sanguinem vidissent, non statim prostrato animo concedebant, sed irato potius in hostes velut furentes omnibus viribus incurrebant."

That Edward once lay under me, And e'er gat up again.—P. 37. v. 4.

Some reciters repeat it thus:

"That Englishman lay under me,"

which is in the true spirit of Blind Harry, who makes Wallace say,

"I like better to see the southeron die, "Than gold or land, that they can gie to me."

In slaying Edward, Maitland acts pitilessly, but not contrary to the laws of arms, which did not enjoin a knight to shew mercy to his antagonist, until he yielded him, "rescue or no rescue." Thus, the seigneur de Languerant came before the walls of an English garrison, in Gascony, and defied any of the defenders to run a course with a spear: his challenge being accepted by Bertrand Courant, the governor of the place, they couched their spears, like good knights, and dashed on their horses. Their spears were broke to pieces, and Languerant was overthrown, and lost his helmet among the horses' feet. His attendants were coming up; but Bernard drew his dagger, and said, "Sir, yield ye my prisoner, rescue or no rescue; else ye are but dead." The dismounted champion spoke not a word; on which, Bertrand, entering into fervent ire, dashed his dagger into his skull. Besides, the battle was not always finished by one warrior obtaining this advantage over the other. In the battle of Nejara, the famous Sir John Chandos was overthrown, and held down, by a gigantic Spanish cavalier, named Martino Fernandez. "Then Sir Johan Chandos remembred of a knyfe, that he had in his bosome, and drew it out, and struck this Martyne so in the backe, and in the sydes, that he wounded him to dethe, as he laye upon hym." The dagger, which the knights employed in these close and desperate struggles, was called the poniard of mercy.



BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.

THE SCOTTISH EDITION.

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The following edition of the Battle of Otterbourne, being essentially different from that which is published in the Reliques of Ancient Poetry, Vol. I. and being obviously of Scottish composition, claims a place in the present collection. The particulars of that noted action are related by Froissard, with the highest encomium upon the valour of the combatants on each side. James, Earl of Douglas, with his brother, the Earl of Murray, in 1387 invaded Northumberland, at the head of 3000 men; while the Earls of Fife and Strathern, sons to the king of Scotland, ravaged the western borders of England, with a still more numerous army. Douglas penetrated as far as Newcastle, where the renowned Hotspur lay in garrison. In a skirmish before the walls, Percy's lance, with the pennon, or guidon, attached to it, was taken by Douglas, as most authors affirm, in a personal encounter betwixt the two heroes. The earl shook the pennon aloft, and swore he would carry it as his spoil into Scotland, and plant it upon his castle of Dalkeith. "That," answered Percy, "shalt thou never!"—Accordingly, having collected the forces of the marches, to a number equal, or (according to the Scottish historians) much superior, to the army of Douglas, Hotspur made a night attack upon the Scottish camp, at Otterbourne, about thirty-two miles from Newcastle. An action took place, fought, by moon-light, with uncommon gallantry and desperation. At length, Douglas, armed with an iron mace, which few but he could wield, rushed into the thickest of the English battalions, followed only by his chaplain, and two squires of his body.[98] Before his followers could come up, their brave leader was stretched on the ground, with three mortal wounds: his squires lay dead by his side; the priest alone, armed with a lance, was protecting his master from farther injury. "I die like my forefathers," said the expiring hero, "in a field of battle, and not on a bed of sickness. Conceal my death, defend my standard,[99] and avenge my fall! It is an old prophecy, that a dead man shall gain a field,[100] and I hope it will be accomplished this night."—Godscroft.—With these words he expired; and the fight was renewed with double obstinacy around his body. When morning appeared, however, victory began to incline to the Scottish side. Ralph Percy, brother to Hotspur, was made prisoner by the earl Marischal, and, shortly after, Harry Percy[101] himself was taken by Lord Montgomery. The number of captives, according to Wyntoun, nearly equalled that of the victors. Upon this the English retired, and left the Scots masters of the dear-bought honours of the field. But the bishop of Durham approaching, at the head of a body of fresh forces, not only checked the pursuit of the victors, but made prisoners some of the stragglers, who had urged the chase too far. The battle was not, however, renewed, as the bishop of Durham did not venture to attempt the rescue of Percy. The field was fought 15th August, 1388.—Fordun, Froissard, Hollinshed, Godscroft.

[Footnote 98: Their names were Robert Hart and Simon Glendinning. The chaplain was Richard Lundie, afterwards archdean of Aberdeen.—Godscroft. Hart, according to Wintown, was a knight. That historian says, no one knew how Douglas fell.]

[Footnote 99: The banner of Douglas, upon this memorable occasion, was borne by his natural son, Archibald Douglas, ancestor of the family of Cavers, hereditary sheriffs of Teviotdale, amongst whose archives this glorious relique is still preserved. The earl, at his onset, is said to have charged his son to defend it to the last drop of his blood.]

[Footnote 100: This prophecy occurs in the ballad as an ominous dream.]

[Footnote 101: Hotspur, for his ransom, built the castle of Penoon, in Ayrshire, belonging to the family of Montgomery, now earls of Eglintoun.]

The ground, on which this memorable engagement took place, is now the property of John Davidson, Esq. of Newcastle, and still retains the name of Battle Cross. A cross, erroneously termed Percy's Cross, has been erected upon the spot where the gallant Earl of Douglas is supposed to have fallen. These particulars were communicated to the editor, in the most obliging manner, by the present proprietor of Otterbourne.

The ballad, published in the Reliques, is avowedly an English production; and the author, with a natural partiality, leans to the side of his countrymen; yet, that ballad, or some one similar, modified probably by national prejudice, must have been current in Scotland during the reign of James VI.: for Godscroft, in treating of this battle, mentions its having been the subject of popular song, and proceeds thus: But that, which is commonly sung of the Hunting of Chiviot, seemeth indeed poetical, and a mere fiction, perhaps to stir up virtue; yet a fiction whereof there is no mention, either in the Scottish or English Chronicle. Neither are the songs, that are made of them, both one; for the Scots song made of Otterbourne, telleth the time, about Lammas; and also the occasion, to take preys out of England; also the dividing the armies betwixt the earls of Fife and Douglas, and their several journeys, almost as in the authentic history. It beginneth thus;

"It fell about the Lammas tide, "When yeomen win their hay, "The doughty Douglas 'gan to ride, "In England to take a prey."—

GODSCROFT, ed. Edin. 1743. Vol. I. p. 195.

I cannot venture to assert, that the stanzas, here published, belong to the ballad alluded to by Godscroft; but they come much nearer to his description than the copy published in the first edition, which represented Douglas as falling by the poignard of a faithless page. Yet we learn, from the same author, that the story of the assassination was not without foundation in tradition.—"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."—Godscroft, ut supra.—"But this narration," adds the historian, "is not so probable."[102] Indeed, it seems to have no foundation, but the common desire of assigning some remote and extraordinary cause for the death of a great man. The following ballad is also inaccurate in many other particulars, and is much shorter, and more indistinct, than that printed in the Reliques, although many verses are almost the same. Hotspur, for instance, is called Earl Percy, a title he never enjoyed; neither was Douglas buried on the field of battle, but in Melrose Abbey, where his tomb is still shown.

[Footnote 102: Wintown assigns another cause for Douglas being carelessly armed.

"The erle Jamys was sa besy, For til ordane his cumpany; And on his Fays for to pas, That reckles he of his armyng was; The Erle of Mwrrawys Bassenet, Thai sayd, at that tyme was feryhete."

Book VIII. Chap 7.

The circumstance of Douglas' omitting to put on his helmet, occurs in the ballad.]

This song was first published from Mr. Herd's Collection of Scottish Songs and Ballads, Edin. 1774: 2 vols. octavo; but two recited copies have fortunately been obtained from the recitation of old persons residing at the head of Ettrick Forest, by which the story is brought out, and completed, in a manner much more correspondent to the true history.