Chapter VIII: Appendix: THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN. See p. 5 (2)

Quhen they unto Strathbolgie came,[L89]
To that castell but dreid, 90
Then to forsee how thingis might frame,[L91]
For they had meikle neid,
They woned them unto the dead,
As kirkmen could devys;
Syne prayed to God that they might speed 95
Off thair guid enterpryse.

Then evirie man himself did arme,
To meit Mackallanmorne,
Unto Strathdoune quho did great harme
The Wednesday beforne. 100
As lyounes does poore lambes devoure,
With bloodie teethe and naillis,
They burnt the biggingis, tuik the store,
Syne slewe the peopillis sellis.

Besyd all this hie crueltie, 105
He said, ere he should ceass,
The standing stonnes of Strathbolgie
Schould be his palione place.
Bot Huntlie said, "With Godis grace,
First we sall fight them ones; 110
Perchance that they may tak the chess,
Ere they come to the stonnes."

Thir lordis keipt on at afternoone,
With all thair warrmen wight;
Then sped up to Cabrach sone, 115
Whair they bed all that night.
Upone the morne, quhen day was light,
They rose and maid them boune
Intill ane castell that stood on hight,
They call it Auchindoune. 120

Besyd that castell, on a croft,
They stended pallionis ther;
Then spak a man that had bein oft
In jeopardie of warr:
"My lord, zour foes they ar to fear, 125
Thoughe we war neuir so stoute;
Thairfoir comand some man of warre
To watche the rest about."

Be this was done, some gentillmen
Of noble kin and blood, 130
To counsell with thir lordis begane,
Of matteris to concluide:
For weill aneughe they understood
The matter was of weght,
They had so manie men of good 135
In battell for to fight.

The firstin man in counsall spak,
Good Errol it was he;
Who sayis, "I will the vaneguard tack
And leiding upone me. 140
My Lord Huntlie, come succour me,
When ze sie me opprest;
For fra the feild I will not flie
So long as I may last."

Thair at some Gordones waxed wraithe, 145
And said he did them wrong;
To lat this lord then they warre leath
First to [the] battell gange.
The meiting that was them amonge,[L149]
Was no man that it hard, 150
Bot Huntlie, with ane troupe full stronge,
Bed into the reir guarde.

Thir wer the number of thair force
Thir lordis to battell led:
Ane thousand gentillmen on horss, 155
And some fotemen they had;
Thrie hundreth that schot arrowes bred,
Four scorr that hagbutis bore:
Thir war the number that they had
Of footmen with them suire. 160

This worthy chevalrie[L161]
All merchand to the field;
Argyll, with ane great armie,
Upone ane hill had tane beild,
Aboyding them [with] speare and scheild,[L165] 165
With bullettis, dartis, and bowes;
The men could weill thair wapones weild;[L167]
To meit them was no mowes.

When they so near uther war come,
That ilk man saw his foe, 170
"Goe to, and assay the gaime," said some;
Bot Capitane Ker said, "No:
First lat the gunes befoir us goe,
That they may break the order":
Quoth both the lordis, "Lat it be so, 175
Or euer we goe forder."

Then Androw Gray, upone ane horss,
Betuixt the battillis red;
Makand the signe of holy cross,
_In manus tuas_ he said.[L180] 180
He lighted thair [the] gunes to led,
Quhill they cam to the rest;
Then Capitane Ker unto him sped,
And bad him shuit in haist.

"I will not [shuit]," quothe Androw Gray, 185
"Quhill they cum over zonder hill;
We have an ower guid caus this dey,[L187]
Through misgydins to spill.
Goe back, and bid our men byd still,
Quhill they cum to the plaine; 190
Then sall my shuitting doe them ill,
I will not shuit in vaine."

"Shuit up, shuit up," quothe Capitane Ker,
"Shuit up, to our comfort!"
The firsten shot [it] was to neir, 195
It lighted all to schort.
The nixtin shot thair foes hurt,
It lighted wounderous weill:
Quoth Androw Gray, "I sie ane sport,
Quhen they began to reill. 200

"Goe toe, good mattes, and say the game,
Zonder folkis ar in a fray;
Lat sie how we can well with them,
Into thair disaray.
Goe, goe, it is not tyme to stay, 205
All for my bennisoune;
Saue non this day ze may gar dye,
Quhill ze the feild haue wonne."[L209]

Then Errol haisted to the hight,
Whair he did battell byd;
With him went Auchindoune and Gight,[L219]
And Bonnitoune by his syd: 220
Whair manie gentillman did with him byd,
Whos prais sould not be smored;
Bot Capitane Ker, that was thair gyde,
Red ay befoir my lord.

They war not manie men of werre, 225
Bot they war wonder trewe;
With hagbutis, pistolet, bowe, and speare,
They did thair foes persewe,
Quhair bullettis, dartis, and arrowes flew,
Als thick as haill or raine, 230
Quhilk manie hurt, and some they slew,
Of horss and gentillmen.

Huntlie maid haist to succour him,
And charged furiouslie,
Quhair manie menis sight grew dim, 235
The shottis so thick did flie;
Quhilk gart right manie doghtie die,
Of some on euerie syd;
Argyll with his tald hoste did flie,
Bot Macklenne did abyd. 240

Macklene had one ane habershoune,
Ilk lord had one ane jack;
Togidder feirc[e]lie are they rune,
With manie a gunes crack.
The splenderis of thair spearis they break, 245
Flewe up into the air,
Quhilk boore doune maney on thair back,
Againe ros neuer mair.[L249]

"Alace, I sie ane soré sight," 265
Said the Laird of Macklenne;
"Our feible folkis is tenne the flight,
And left me myne allaine.
Now must I flie, or els be slaine,
Since they will not returne;" 270
With that he ran ouer ane dyne,
Endlongis ane lytill burne.

Then after great Argylles hoste
Some horssmen tuik the chess,
Quha turned their backes for all thair bost, 275
Contrair the fooles say[s].
They cried "oh," with manie "alace,"
Bot neuir for mercie sought;
Thairfoir the Gordones gaue no grace,
Becaus they craved it nought. 280

Then some guidman perseiued sharpe,[L281]
With Erroll and Huntlie,
And thai with [a] capitane did carpe,
Quhais name was Ogilvie.
He sayis, "Gentillmen, lat see 285
Who maniest slaine slaydis;[L286]
Save non this day ze may gar die,
For pleadis, nor ransome paynes."[L288]

Lyk hartes, up howes and hillis thei ranne,
Quhair horsmen might not winn: 290
"Reteir againe," quoth Huntlie then,
"Quhair we did first begin.
Heir lyes manie carved skinnes,
With manie ane bloodie beard,
For anie helpe, with litell dinne, 295
Sall rotte aboue the eard."

When they cam to the hill againe,
The sett doune one thair knees,
Syne thanked God that they had slaine
Soe manie enimies. 300
They ros befor Argylles eyis,
Maid Capitane Ker ane knight;
Syne bed among the dead bodies,
Whill they war out of sight.

[L305-12]

[L313-20]

This deid so doughtilie was done,
As I hard trewe men tell,
Upone ane Thursday afternoone,
St. Franecis ewill befell.[L324]

Guid Auchindoune was slaine himself, 325
With uther seven in battéll;
So was the Laird of Lochinzell,
Grate pitie was to tell.

13-24.

Saying, "The ministers, I fear,
A bloody browst have brown,
For yesterday, withouthen mair, 15
On the hill at Stradown,
I saw three lords in battle fight
Right furiously awhile,
Huntlie and Errol, as they hight,
Were both against Argyle. 20
Turn back with me and ride a mile,
And I shall make it kend,
How they began, the form and stile,
And of the battles end."

JAMIESON.

36. landis.

88. beed.

91. fraine.

89-96. This stanza is unintelligible in Dalzell. It stands thus in Laing's copy.

When they unto Strathboggy came,
To council soon they geed,
For to see how things might frame,
For they had meikle need.
They voted then to do a deed
As kirkmen do devise,
And pray'd that they might find good speed
In that great interprise.

149. This line seems to be corrupted.

161. Some words are lost.

Thus with their noble cavalry
They marched to the field.

LAING.

165. speares and scheildis.

167. weild thair wapones weill.

180. mannis.

187. then ower.

209-216.

Then awful Erroll he can say
"Good fellows, follow me: 210
I hope it shall be ours this day,
Or else therefore to die.
Tho they in number many be,[L213]
Set on, withoutten words;
Let ilk brave fellow brake his tree, 215
And then pursue with swords."

213. many were.

219. within went.

249-56.

Then some men said, "We will be sure
And take Maclean by course; 250
Go to, for we are men anew
To bear him down by force."
But noble Errol had remorse,
And said, "It is not best,
For tho Argyle has got the worst, 255
Let him gang with the rest.

257-64.

"What greater honour could ye wish
In deeds of chivalry,
Or brave victory than this,
Where one has chac'd thrice three? 260
Therefore, good fellows, let him be;
He'll die before he yield;
For he with his small company
Bade langest in the field."

281. perceiued.

286, 288. corrupted.

305-12.

Now I have you already tauld, 305
Huntly and Errol's men
Could scarce be thirteen hundred called,
The truth if ye would ken.[L308]
And yet Argyle his thousands ten[L309]
Were they that took the race, 310
And tho that they were nine to ane,
They caused [them] take the chace.

308. he.

309. has.

313-20.

Sae Argyle's boast it was in vain,
(He thought sure not to tyne)
That if he durst cum to the plain, 315
He would gar every nine
Of his lay hold upon ilk man
Huntly and Errol had:
But yet for all his odds he ran[L319]
To tell how ill he sped. 320

319. fled.

324. should be _eve_, or _vigil_.

BONNY JOHN SETON.

This ballad is taken from Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, p. 15. There is another version in Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 136 (_The Death of John Seton_).

John Seton of Pitmedden, a young and brave cavalier, was shot through the middle by a cannon ball, during the skirmish at the Bridge of Dee, while engaged, under the Viscount of Aboyne, in resisting the advance of Montrose upon the town of Aberdeen, in June, 1639. It was the hard fate of Aberdeen to suffer from the arms of Montrose, first, when he was general of the Covenanters, and again while he was lieutenant for the King. The murder and pillage perpetrated in the town by the Irish after the defeat of Lord Burleigh, in 1644, have been made the subject of violent reproach by his enemies, but it may perhaps be said, that for all that exceeded the usual horrors of war, the heroic commander was not responsible. In Buchan's version of the present ballad, the clemency shown by Montrose on taking possession of the city in 1639 is commemorated in three stanzas worthy of preservation. The Covenanters were "resolved to have sacked it orderly."

Out it speeks the gallant Montrose,
(Grace on his fair body!)
"We winna burn the bonny burgh,
We'll even lat it be."

Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose,
"Your purpose I will break;
We winna burn the bonny burgh,
We'll never build its make.

"I see the women and their children
Climbing the craigs sae hie;
We'll sleep this night in the bonny burgh,
And even lat it be."

* * * * *

Upon the eighteenth day of June,
A dreary day to see,
The Southern lords did pitch their camp
Just at the bridge of Dee.
Bonny John Seton of Pitmeddin, 5
A bold baron was he,
He made his testament ere he went out,
The wiser man was he.

He left his land to his young son,
His lady her dowry, 10
A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean,
Yet on the nurse's knee.

Then out came his lady fair,
A tear into her e'e;
Says "Stay at home, my own good lord, 15
O stay at home with me!"

He looked over his left shoulder,
Cried, "Souldiers, follow me!"
O then she looked in his face,
An angry woman was she: 20
"God send me back my steed again,
But ne'er let me see thee!"

His name was Major Middleton
That manned the bridge of Dee;
His name was Colonel Henderson 25
That let the cannons flee.

His name was Major Middleton
That manned the bridge of Dee;
And his name was Colonel Henderson
That dung Pitmeddin in three. 30

Some rode on the black and gray,
And some rode on the brown,
But the bonny John Seton
Lay gasping on the ground.

Then bye there comes a false Forbes, 35
Was riding from Driminere;
Says "Here there lies a proud Seton,
This day they ride the rear."

Cragievar said to his men,[L39]
"You may play on your shield; 40
For the proudest Seton in all the lan'
This day lies on the field."

"O spoil him, spoil him," cried Cragievar,
"Him spoiled let me see;
For on my word," said Cragievar, 45
"He had no good will at me."

They took from him his armour clear,
His sword, likewise his shield;
Yea they have left him naked there
Upon the open field. 50

The Highland men, they're clever men
At handling sword and shield,
But yet they are too naked men
To stay in battle field.

The Highland men are clever men[L55] 55
At handling sword or gun,
But yet they are too naked men
To bear the cannon's rung.

For a cannon's roar in a summer night
Is like thunder in the air; 60
There's not a man in Highland dress
Can face the cannon's fire.

39. Sir William Forbes of Cragievar.

55-62. The Highlanders were thrown into great consternation by cannon shot, to which they were not accustomed. At the Raid of Stonehaven, just previous to the affair of the Bridge of Dee, the first volley made them wheel about and fly in disorder. They declared that they could not abide "the musket's mother."

THE HAWS OF CROMDALE.

Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 40. Johnson's _Museum_, p. 502.

This ballad, very popular in Scotland, was long sold on the stalls before it was received into the collections. A glance will show that it has at best been very imperfectly transmitted by oral tradition. In fact, the Ettrick Shepherd seems to be right in maintaining that two widely separated events are here jumbled together. The first five stanzas apparently refer to an action in May, 1690, when Sir Thomas Livingston surprised fifteen hundred Highlanders in their beds at Cromdale, and the remainder to the lost battle of Auldern, where Montrose, with far inferior forces, defeated Sir John Hurry with prodigious slaughter, on the 4th of May, 1645. Mr. Stenhouse states, indeed, that after that imprudent division of the army of the Covenant which opened the way to the disaster at Auldern, Hurry surprised and routed at Cromdale a body of Highlanders under the lion-hearted Allaster Macdonald. But this check appears, by his own language, to have been too slight an affair to call forth such verses as those with which the ballad begins. See Hogg's _Jacobite Relics_, ii. 157, Johnson's _Museum_ (1853), iv. 428.

As I came in by Achendown,
A little wee bit frae the town,
When to the highlands I was bown,
To view the haws of Cromdale,

I met a man in tartan trews, 5
I spier'd at him what was the news:
Quoth he, "The highland army rues
That e'er we came to Cromdale."

"We were in bed, sir, every man,
When the English host upon us came; 10
A bloody battle then began
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

"The English horse they were so rude,
They bath'd their hoofs in highland blood,
But our brave clans they boldly stood, 15
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

"But alas! we could no longer stay,
For o'er the hills we came away,
And sore we do lament the day
That e'er we came to Cromdale." 20

* * * * *

Thus the great Montrose did say,
"Can you direct the nearest way?
For I will o'er the hills this day,
And view the haws of Cromdale."

"Alas, my lord, you're not so strong; 25
You scarcely have two thousand men,
And there's twenty thousand on the plain,
Stand rank and file on Cromdale."

Thus the great Montrose did say,
"I say, direct the nearest way, 30
For I will o'er the hills this day,
And see the haws of Cromdale."

They were at dinner, every man,
When great Montrose upon them came;
A second battle then began 35
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The Grants, Mackenzies, and M'Kys,
Soon as Montrose they did espy,
O then they fought most vehemently,
Upon the haws of Cromdale. 40

The M'Donalds, they return'd again,
The Camerons did their standard join,
M'Intosh play'd a bonny game,
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The M'Gregors fought like lyons bold, 45
M'Phersons, none could them controul,
M'Lauchlins fought like loyal souls,
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

[M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neals,
So boldly as they took the field, 50
And made their enemies to yield,
Upon the haws of Cromdale.]

The Gordons boldly did advance,
The Fraziers [fought] with sword and lance,
The Grahams they made their heads to dance, 55
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose,
So boldly set upon their foes,
And brought them down with highland blows,
Upon the haws of Cromdale 60

Of twenty thousand Cromwells men
Five hundred went to Aberdeen,
The rest of them lyes on the plain,
Upon the haws of Cromdale.

THE BATTLE OF ALFORD.

Two months after the defeat of Sir John Hurry at Auldern, Montrose utterly destroyed the other division of the covenanting army, under General Baillie, at Alford on the Don. On the 2d of July, the King's forces marched from Drumminor, and crossed the Don to Alford, Montrose and the Earl of Aboyne taking up their quarters in the castle of Asloun. Baillie, who was now in pursuit of the royalists, moved southward, and encamped on the day just mentioned, at Lesly. The next morning he crossed the river (halting on the way near a farm called Mill Hill), whereupon the battle took place. Montrose dearly purchased this new victory by the loss of Lord George Gordon, who commanded the _right_ wing, not the left.

These fragmentary verses are from _The Thistle of Scotland_, p. 68.

The Graham[s and] Gordons of Aboyne
Camp'd at Drumminor bog;
At the castle there they lay all night,
And left them scarce a hog.

The black Baillie, that auld dog, 5
Appeared on our right;
We quickly raise up frae the bog,
To Alford march'd that night.

We lay at Lesly all night,
They camped at Asloun; 10
And up we raise afore daylight,
To ding the beggars doun.

Before we was in battle rank,
We was anent Mill Hill;
I wat full weel they gar'd us rue,[L15] 15
We gat fighting our fill.

They hunted us and dunted us,
They drave us here and there,
Untill three hundred of our men
Lay gasping in their lair. 20

The Earl of Mar the right wing guided,
The colours stood him by;
Lord George Gordon the left wing guided,
Who well the sword could ply.

There came a ball shot frae the west 25
That shot him through the back;
Although he was our enemy,
We grieved for his wreck.

We cannot say 'twas his own men,
But yet it came that way; 30
In Scotland there was not a match
To that man where he lay.

15. fell.

THE BATTLE OF PENTLAND HILLS.

_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, ii. 203

"The insurrection commemorated and magnified in the following ballad, as indeed it has been in some histories, was, in itself, no very important affair. It began in Dumfries-shire, where Sir James Turner, a soldier of fortune, was employed to levy the arbitrary fines imposed for not attending the Episcopal churches. The people rose, seized his person, disarmed his soldiers, and, having continued together, resolved to march towards Edinburgh, expecting to be joined by their friends in that quarter. In this they were disappointed; and, being now diminished to half their numbers, they drew up on the Pentland Hills, at a place called Rullien Green. They were commanded by one Wallace; and here they awaited the approach of General Dalziel, of Binns; who, having marched to Calder, to meet them on the Lanark road, and finding, that, by passing through Collington, they had got to the other side of the hills, cut through the mountains and approached them. Wallace showed both spirit and judgment: he drew up his men in a very strong situation, and withstood two charges of Dalziel's cavalry; but, upon the third shock, the insurgents were broken and utterly dispersed. There was very little slaughter, as the cavalry of Dalziel were chiefly gentlemen, who pitied their oppressed and misguided countrymen. There were about fifty killed, and as many made prisoners. The battle was fought on the 28th November, 1666; a day still observed by the scattered remnant of the Cameronian sect, who regularly hear a field-preaching upon the field of battle.

"I am obliged for a copy of the ballad to Mr. Livingston of Airds, who took it down from the recitation of an old woman residing on his estate.

"The gallant Grahams, mentioned in the text, are Graham of Claverhouse's horse." SCOTT.

The gallant Grahams cam from the west,
Wi' their horses black as ony craw;
The Lothian lads they marched fast,
To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa.

Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle, 5
The lads they marched mony a mile;
Souters and tailors unto them drew,
Their covenants for to renew.

The Whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks,
Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs; 10
But aye sinsyne they do repent
The renewing o' their Covenant.

At the Mauchline muir, where they were review'd,
Ten thousand men in armour show'd;
But, ere they came to the Brockie's burn, 15
The half of them did back return.

General Dalyell, as I hear tell,
Was our lieutenant-general;
And Captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill,
Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill. 20

General Dalyell held to the hill,
Asking at them what was their will;
And who gave them this protestation,
To rise in arms against the nation?

"Although we all in armour be, 25
It's not against his majesty;
Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid,
But wi' the country we'll conclude."

"Lay down your arms, in the King's name,
And ye shall a' gae safely hame;" 30
But they a' cried out wi' ae consent,
"We'll fight for a broken Covenant."

"O well," says he, "since it is so,
A wilfu' man never wanted woe:"
He then gave a sign unto his lads, 35
And they drew up in their brigades.

The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,
And every man to his armour drew;
The Whigs were never so much aghast,
As to see their saddles toom sae fast. 40

The cleverest men stood in the van,
The Whigs they took their heels and ran;
But such a raking was never seen,
As the raking o' the Rullien Green.

THE READING SKIRMISH.

Several companies, principally Irish, belonging to the army of King James, and stationed at Reading, had quitted the town in consequence of a report that the Prince of Orange was advancing in that direction with the main body of his forces. On the departure of the garrison, the people of Reading at once invited the Prince to take possession of the place, and secure them against the Irish. But the King's troops, having learned that it was only a small detachment of William's soldiers, and not the main army, by whom they were threatened, returned and reoccupied their post. Here they were attacked by two hundred and fifty of the Dutch, and though numbering six hundred, were soon put to flight, with the loss of their colors and of fifty men, the assailants losing but five. This skirmish occurred on Sunday, the 9th of December, 1688.

This piece is extracted from Croker's _Historical Songs of Ireland_, p. 14, Percy Society, vol. i., and was there given from a collection of printed ballads in the British Museum. The burden seems to be derived from the following stanza of _Lilli burlero_:

"Now, now de heretics all go down,
_Lilli, &c._
By Chreist and St. Patrick de nation's our own,
_Lilli, &c._

THE READING SKIRMISH;

OR, THE BLOODY IRISH ROUTED BY THE VICTORIOUS DUTCH.

Five hundred papishes came there,
To make a final end
Of all the town, in time of prayer,
But God did them defend.

To the tune of _Lilli borlero_. Licensed according to order. Printed for J. D. in the year 1688.

We came into brave Reading by night,
Five hundred horsemen proper and tall;
Yet not resolved fairly to fight,
But for to cut the throats of them all.
Most of us was Irish Papists, 5
Who vowed to kill, then plunder the town;
We this never doubted, but soon we were routed,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down.

In Reading town we ne'er went to bed;
Every soul there mounted his horse, 10
Hoping next day to fill them with dread;
Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross,
We most shamefully was routed:
Fortune was pleased to give us a frown,
And blasted our glory: I'll tell you the story, 15
By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down.

We thought to slay them all in their sleep,
But by my shoul, were never the near,
The hereticks their guard did so keep,
Which put us in a trembling fear. 20
We concluded something further,
To seize the churches all in the town,
With killing and slaying, while they were a praying,
But we were routed, and soon run down.

Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch 25
Every man, nay, woman and child;
This in our hearts we freely did hatch,
Vowing to make a prey of the spoil.
But we straightways was prevented,
When we did hope for fame and renown; 30
In less than an hour we [are] forcéd to scoure;
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down.

We were resolved Reading to clear,
Having in hand the flourishing sword;
The bloody sceen was soon to appear, 35
For we did then but wait for the word:
While the ministers were preaching,
We were resolved to have at their gown;
But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 40

Just as we all were fit to fall on,
In came the Dutch with fury and speed;
And amongst them there was not a man,
But what was rarely mounted indeed;
And rid up as fierce as tygers, 45
Knitting their brows, they on us did frown;
Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down.

They never stood to use many words,
But in all haste up to us they flocked, 50
In their right hands their flourishing swords,
And their left carbines ready cock'd.
We were forced to fly before them,
Thorow the lanes and streets of the town;
While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter, 55
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down.

Then being fairly put to the rout,
Hunted and drove before 'um like dogs,
Our captain bid us then face about,
But we wisht for our Irish bogs. 60
Having no great mind for fighting,
The Dutch did drive us thorow the town;
Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down.

We threw away our swords and carbines, 65
Pistols and cloaks lay strow'd on the lands;
Cutting off boots for running, uds-doyns,
One pair of heels was worth two pair of hands.
Then we called on sweet St. Coleman,[L69]
Hoping he might our victory crown; 70
But Dutchmen pursuing poor Teagues to our ruin,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down.

Never was Teagues in so much distress,
As the whole world may well understand;
When we came here, we thought to possess 75
Worthy estates of houses and land:
But we find 'tis all a story,
Fortune is pleased on us to frown:
Instead of our riches, we stink in our breeches,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 80

They call a thing a three-legged mare,
Where they will fit each neck with a nooze,
Then with our beads to say our last prayer,
After all this to die in our shoes.
Thence we pack to purgatory; 85
For us let all the Jesuits pray;
Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creatures
Would have you to follow the self-same way.

69, Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his participation in the Popish Plot.--CROKER.

UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY.

The story of the siege of Londonderry, "the most memorable in the annals of the British isles," is eloquently told in the twelfth chapter of Macaulay's _History of England_. It lasted one hundred and five days, from the middle of April to the first of August (1689). During that time the garrison had been reduced from about seven thousand men to about three thousand. Famine and pestilence slew more than the fire of the enemy. In the last month of the siege, there was scarcely any thing left to eat in the city but salted hides and tallow. The price of a dog's paw was five shillings and sixpence, and rats that had fed on the bodies of the dead were eagerly hunted and slain. The courage and self-devotion of the defenders, animated by a lofty public spirit and sustained by religious zeal, were at last rewarded by a glorious triumph, and will never cease to be celebrated with pride and enthusiasm by the Protestants of Ireland.

The ballad is here given as printed in Croker's _Historical Songs of Ireland_, p. 46, from a black letter copy in the British Museum. The whole title runs thus: _Undaunted Londonderry; or, the Victorious Protestants' constant success against the proud French and Irish Forces_. _To the Tune of Lilli Borlero._

Protestant boys, both valliant and stout,
Fear not the strength and frown of Rome,
Thousands of them are put to the rout,
Brave Londonderry tells 'um their doom.
For their cannons roar like thunder, 5
Being resolved the town to maintain
For William and Mary, still brave Londonderry
Will give the proud French and Tories their bane.

Time after time, with powder and balls,
Protestant souls they did 'um salute, 10
That before Londonderry's stout walls
Many are slain and taken to boot.
Nay, their noble Duke of Berwick,[L13]
Many reports, is happily tane,
Where still they confine him, and will not resign him,
Till they have given the Tories their bane. 16

Into the town their bombs they did throw,
Being resolved to fire the same,
Hoping thereby to lay it all low,
Could they but raise it into a flame. 20
But the polititious Walker,[L21]
By an intreague did quail them again,
And blasted the glory of French, Teague, and Tory;
By policy, boys, he gave them their bane.

Thundering stones they laid on the wall, 25
Ready against the enemy came,
With which they vow'd the Tories to mawl,
Whene'er they dare approach but the same.
And another sweet invention,
The which in brief I reckon to name; 30
A sharp, bloody slaughter did soon follow after,
Among the proud French, and gave them their bane.

Stubble and straw in parcels they laid,
The which they straightways kindled with speed;
By this intreague the French was betrayed, 35
Thinking the town was fired indeed.
Then they placed their scaling ladders,
And o'er the walls did scour amain;
Yet strait, to their wonder, they were cut in sunder,
Thus Frenchmen and Tories met with their bane. 40

Suddenly then they opened their gate,
Sallying forth with vigor and might;
And, as the truth I here may relate,
Protestant boys did valliantly fight,
Taking many chief commanders, 45
While the sharp fray they thus did maintain,
With vigorous courses, they routed their forces,
And many poor Teagues did meet with their bane.

While with their blood the cause they have sealed,
Heaven upon their actions did frown; 50
Protestants took the spoil of the field,
Cannons full five they brought to the town.
With a lusty, large, great mortar,
Thus they returned with honor and gain,
While Papists did scour from Protestant power, 55
As fearing they all should suffer their bane.

In a short time we hope to arrive
With a vast army to Ireland,
And the affairs so well we'll contrive
That they shall ne'er have power to stand 60
Gainst King William and Queen Mary,
Who on the throne does flourish and reign;
We'll down with the faction that make the distraction,
And give the proud French and Tories their bane.

13. In a sally which was made by the garrison towards the end of April, the Duke of Berwick is said to have received a slight wound in the back.

21. The Rev. George Walker, rector of the parish of Donaghmore, the hero of the defence. His statue now stands on a lofty pillar, rising from a bastion which for a long time sustained the heaviest fire of the besiegers.

PR[OE]LIUM GILLICRANKIANUM. See p. 152.

From Johnson's _Museum_, p. 105.

Grahamius notabilis coegerat montanos,
Qui clypeis et gladiis fugarunt Anglicanos;
Fugerant Vallicolæ, atque Puritani,
Cacavere Batavi et Cameroniani.
Grahamius mirabilis, fortissimus Alcides,
Cujus regi fuerat intemerata fides,
Agiles monticolas marte inspiravit,
Et duplicatum numerum hostium profligavit.

Nobilis apparuit Fermilodunensis,
Cujus in rebelles stringebatur ensis;
Nobilis et sanguine, nobilior virtute,
Regi devotissimus intus et in cute.
Pitcurius heroicus, Hector Scoticanus,
Cui mens fidelis fuerat et invicta manus,
Capita rebellium, is excerebravit,
Hostes unitissimos ille dimicavit.

Glengarius magnanimus atque bellicosus,
Functus ut Eneas, pro rege animosus,
Fortis atque strenuus, hostes expugnavit,
Sanguine rebellium campos coloravit.
Surrexerat fideliter Donaldus Insulanus,
Pugnaverat viriliter, cum copiis Skyanis,
Pater atque filii non dissimularunt,
Sed pro rege proprio unanimes pugnarunt.

Macleanius, circumdatus tribo martiali,
Semper, devinctissimus familiæ regali,
Fortiter pugnaverat, more atavorum,
Deinde dissipaverat turmas Batavorum.
Strenuus Lochielius, multo Camerone,
Hostes ense peremit, et abrio pugione;
Istos et intrepidos Orco dedicavit,
Impedimenta hostium Blaro reportavit.

Macneillius de Bara, Glencous Kepochanus,
Ballechinus, cum fratre, Stuartus Apianus,
Pro Jacobo Septimo fortiter gessere,
Pugiles fortissimi, feliciter vicere.
Canonicus clarissimus Gallovidianus,
Acer et indomitus, consilioque sanus,
Ibi dux adfuerat, spectabilis persona,
Nam pro tuenda patria, hunc peperit Bellona.

Ducalidoni dominum spreverat gradivus,
Nobilis et juvenis, fortis et activus:
Nam cum nativum principem exulem audiret,
Redit ex Hungaria ut regi inserviret.
Illic et adfuerat tutor Ranaldorum,
Qui strenue pugnaverat cum copiis virorum;
Et ipse Capetaneus, aetate puerili,
Intentus est ad pr[oe]lium, spiritu virili.

Glenmoristonus junior, optimus bellator
Subito jam factus, hactenus venator,
Perduelles Whiggeos ut pecora prostravit,
Ense et fulmineo Mackaium fugavit.
Regibus et legibus, Scotici constantes,
Vos clypeis et gladiis pro principe pugnantes,
Vestra est victoria, vestra est et gloria,
In cantis et historia perpes est memoria!

THE BOYNE WATER.

This momentous battle was fought on the 1st of July, 1690. James had a strong position and thirty thousand men, two thirds of whom were a worthless rabble. William had thirty-six thousand splendid soldiers. The loss on neither side was great. Of James's troops there fell fifteen hundred, the flower of his army; of the conqueror's not more than five, but with them the great Duke of Schomberg. The present version of this ballad is from Croker's _Historical Songs of Ireland_, p. 60, given from a MS. copy in the editor's possession.

July the first, in Oldbridge town,[L1]
There was a grievous battle,
Where many a man lay on the ground,
By the cannons that did rattle,
King James he pitched his tents between 5
The lines for to retire;
But King William threw his bomb-balls in,
And set them all on fire.

Thereat enraged, they vow'd revenge,
Upon King William's forces; 10
And often did cry vehemently,
That they would stop their courses.
A bullet from the Irish came,
Which grazed King William's arm;
They thought his majesty was slain, 15
Yet it did him little harm.

Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care,
His king would often caution
To shun the spot where bullets hot
Retain'd their rapid motion. 20
But William said--"He don't deserve
The name of Faith's defender,
That would not venture life and limb
To make a foe surrender."

When we the Boyne began to cross, 25
The enemy they descended;
But few of our brave men were lost,
So stoutly we defended.
The horse was the first that marchéd o'er,
The foot soon followed a'ter, 30
But brave Duke Schomberg was no more,
By venturing over the water.

When valiant Schomberg he was slain,
King William thus accosted
His warlike men, for to march on, 35
And he would be the foremost.
"Brave boys," he said, "be not dismayed
For the losing of one commander;
For God will be our king this day,
And I'll be general under." 40

Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross,
To give our enemies battle;
Our cannon, to our foes great cost,
Like thundering claps did rattle,
In majestic mien our prince rode o'er, 45
His men soon followed a'ter;
With blows and shouts put our foes to the route,
The day we crossed the water.

The Protestants of Drogheda
Have reasons to be thankful, 50
That they were not to bondage brought,
They being but a handful.
First to the Tholsel they were brought,
And tied at Milmount a'ter,[L54]
But brave King William set them free, 55
By venturing over the water.

The cunning French, near to Duleek[L57]
Had taken up their quarters,
And fenced themselves on every side,
Still waiting for new orders. 60
But in the dead time of the night,
They set the field on fire;
And long before the morning light,
To Dublin they did retire.

Then said King William to his men, 65
After the French departed,
"I'm glad," said he, "that none of ye
Seeméd to be faint-hearted.
So sheath your swords, and rest awhile,
In time we'll follow a'ter:" 70
These words he uttered with a smile,
The day he crossed the water.

Come, let us all, with heart and voice,
Applaud our lives' defender,
Who at the Boyne his valour shewed, 75
And made his foes surrender,
To God above the praise we'll give,
Both now and ever a'ter,
And bless the glorious memory 79
Of King William that crossed the Boyne water.

1. The Dutch guards first entered the river Boyne at a ford opposite to the little village of Oldbridge.--CROKER.

54. "After the battle of the Boyne, the Popish garrison of Drogheda took the Protestants out of prison, into which they had thrown them, and carried them to the Mount; where they expected the cannon would play, if King William's forces besieged the town. _They tied them together_, and set them to receive the shot; but their hearts failed them who were to defend the place, and so it pleased God to preserve the poor Protestants."--_Memoirs of Ireland, &c._, cited by Croker.

57. "When, in the course of the day, the battle approached James's position on the hill of Donore, the warlike prince retired to a more secure distance at Duleek, where he soon put himself at the head of his French allies, and led the retreat; the King and the French coming off without a scar."--O'Driscol, cited by Croker.

THE WOMAN WARRIOR,

Who liv'd in Cow-Cross, near West-Smithfield; who, changing her
apparel, entered herself on board in quality of a soldier, and
sailed to Ireland, where she valiantly behaved herself,
particularly at the siege of Cork, where she lost her toes, and
received a mortal wound in her body, of which she since died in
her return to London.

From Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, v. 8.

Cork was taken September 27-29, 1690, by the Duke (then Earl) of Marlborough, with the coöperation of the Duke of Wirtemberg. The Duke of Grafton, then serving as a volunteer, was mortally wounded while advancing to the assault. Croker suggests that this lamentation for the heroine of Cow-Cross, "the Mary Ambree of her age," was one of the many indirect efforts made to bring the military skill of Marlborough into popular notice.

Let the females attend
To the lines which are penn'd,
For here I shall give a relation
Of a young marry'd wife,
Who did venture her life, 5
For a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation.

She her husband did leave,
And did likewise receive
Her arms, and on board she did enter,
And right valiantly went, 10
With a resolution bent
To the ocean, the ocean, her life there to venture.

Yet of all the ship's crew,
Not a seaman that knew
They then had a woman so near 'em; 15
On the ocean so deep
She her council did keep,
Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em.

She was valiant and bold,
And would not be controul'd 20
By any that dare to offend her;
If a quarrel arose,
She would give him dry blows,
And the captain, the captain did highly commend her.

For he took her to be 25
Then of no mean degree,
A gentleman's son, or a squire;
With a hand white and fair,
There was none could compare,
Which the captain, the captain did often admire.

On the Irish shore, 31
Where the cannons did roar,
With many stout lads she was landed;
There her life to expose,
She lost two of her toes, 35
And in battle, in battle was daily commended.

Under Grafton she fought
Like a brave hero stout,
And made the proud Tories retire;
She in field did appear 40
With a heart void of fear,
And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give fire.

While the battering balls
Did assault the strong walls
Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded, 45
She did bravely advance
Where by unhappy chance
This young female, young female, alas! she was wounded.

At the end of the fray
Still she languishing lay, 50
Then over the ocean they brought her,
To her own native shore:
Now they ne'er knew before
That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter.

What she long had conceal'd 55
Now at length she reveal'd,
That she was a woman that ventur'd;
Then to London with care
She did straitways repair,
But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd. 60

When her parents beheld,
They with sorrow was fill'd,
For why, they did dearly adore her;
In her grave now she lies,
Tis not watery eyes, 65
No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her.

A DIALOGUE

BETWEEN WILL LICK-LADLE AND TOM CLEAN-COGUE, TWA SHEPHERDS, WHA WERE FEEDING THEIR FLOCKS ON THE OCHIL-HILLS ON THE DAY THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MOOR WAS FOUGHT.

(See p. 156. From Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 67.)

_W._ Pray came you here the fight to shun,
Or keep the sheep with me, man?
Or was you at the Sheriff-moor,
And did the battle see, man?
Pray tell whilk of the parties won? 5
For well I wat I saw them run,
Both south and north, when they begun,
To pell and mell, and kill and fell,
With muskets snell, and pistols knell,
And some to hell 10
Did flee, man.

_T._ But, my dear Will, I kenna still,
Whilk o' the twa did lose, man;
For well I wat they had good skill
To set upo' their foes, man: 15
The red-coats they are train'd, you see,
The clans always disdain to flee,
Wha then should gain the victory?
But the Highland race, all in a brace,
With a swift pace, to the Whigs disgrace, 20
Did put to chace
Their foes, man.

_W._ Now how diel, Tam, can this be true?
I saw the chace gae north, man.
_T._ But well I wat they did pursue 25
Them even unto Forth, man.
Frae Dumblain they ran in my own sight,
And got o'er the bridge with all their might,
And those at Stirling took their flight;
Gif only ye had been wi' me, 30
You had seen them flee, of each degree,
For fear to die
Wi' sloth, man.

_W._ My sister Kate came o'er the hill,
Wi' crowdie unto me, man; 35
She swore she saw them running still
Frae Perth unto Dundee, man.
The left wing gen'ral had na skill,
The Angus lads had no good will
That day their neighbours blood to spill; 40
For fear by foes that they should lose
Their cogues of brose, all crying woes--
Yonder them goes,
D'ye see, man?

_T._ I see but few like gentlemen 45
Amang yon frighted crew, man;
I fear my Lord Panmure be slain,
Or that he's ta'en just now, man:
For tho' his officers obey,
His cowardly commons run away, 50
For fear the red-coats them should slay;
The sodgers hail make their hearts fail;
See how they scale, and turn their tail,
And rin to flail
And plow, man. 55

_W._ But now brave Angus comes again
Into the second fight, man;
They swear they'll either dye or gain,
No foes shall them affright, man:
Argyle's best forces they'll withstand, 60
And boldly fight them sword in hand,
Give them a general to command,
A man of might, that will but fight,
And take delight to lead them right,
And ne'er desire 65
The flight, man.

But Flandrekins they have no skill[L67]
To lead a Scotish force, man;
Their motions do our courage spill,
And put us to a loss, man. 70
You'll hear of us far better news,
When we attack like Highland trews,
To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise,
Till the field, tho' braid, be all o'erspread,
But coat or plaid, wi' corpse that's dead 75
In their cold bed,
That's moss, man.

_T._ Twa gen'rals frae the field did run,
Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man;
They cry'd and run grim death to shun, 80
Those heroes of the North, man;
They're fitter far for book or pen,
Than under Mars to lead on men;
Ere they came there they might well ken
That female hands could ne'er gain lands; 85
'Tis Highland brands that countermands
Argathlean bands
Frae Forth, man.

_W._ The Camerons scow'r'd as they were mad,
Lifting their neighbours cows, man, 90
M'Kenzie and the Stewart fled,
Without phil'beg or trews, man:
Had they behav'd like Donald's core,
And kill'd all those came them before,
Their king had gone to France no more: 95
Then each Whig saint wad soon repent,
And strait recant his covenant,
And rent
It at the news, man.

_T._ M'Gregors they far off did stand, 100
Badenach and Athol too, man;
I hear they wanted the command,
For I believe them true, man.
Perth, Fife, and Angus, wi' their horse,
Stood motionless, and some did worse, 105
For, tho' the red-coats went them cross,
They did conspire for to admire
Clans run and fire, left wings retire,
While rights intire
Pursue, man. 110

_W._ But Scotland has not much to say,
For such a fight as this is,
Where baith did fight, baith run away;
The devil take the miss is
That every officer was not slain 115
That run that day, and was not ta'en,
Either flying from or to Dumblain;
When Whig and Tory, in their 'fury,'
Strove for glory, to our sorrow,
The sad story 120
Hush is.

67. By Flanderkins are meant Lieutenant-General Fanderbeck and Colonels Rantzaw and Cromstrom.--HOGG.

UP AND WAR THEM A', WILLIE. See p. 156.

From Herd's _Scotish Songs_, ii. 234. The same in Ritson's _Scotish Songs_, ii. 73. Burns furnished a somewhat different version to Johnson's _Museum_ (p. 195, also in Cromek's _Select Scotish Songs_, ii. 29), which he obtained from one Tom Neil, a carpenter in Edinburgh, who was famous for his singing of Scottish songs. The title and burden to this version is _Up and warn a', Willie_, an allusion, says Burns, to the _crantara_, or warning of a Highland clan to arms, which the Lowlanders, not understanding, have corrupted. There is another copy in Hogg's _Jacobite Relics_, ii. 18, which is nearly the same as the following.

When the Earl of Mar first raised his standard, and proclaimed the Chevalier, the ornamental ball on the top of the staff fell off, and the superstitious Highlanders interpreted the circumstance as ominous of ill for their cause. This is the incident referred to in the third stanza.

When we went to the field of war,
And to the weapon-shaw, Willie,
With true design to stand our ground,
And chace our faes awa', Willie,
Lairds and lords came there bedeen, 5
And vow gin they were pra', Willie:
_Up and war 'em a', Willie,_
_War 'em, war 'em a', Willie._

And when our army was drawn up,
The bravest e'er I saw, Willie, 10
We did not doubt to rax the rout,
And win the day and a', Willie;
Pipers play'd frae right to left,
"Fy, fourugh Whigs awa'," Willie.
_Up and war, &c._ 15

But when our standard was set up,
So fierce the wind did bla', Willie,
The golden knop down from the top
Unto ground did fa', Willie:
Then second-sighted Sandy said, 20
"We'll do nae good at a', Willie."
_Up and war, &c._

When bra'ly they attack'd our left,
Our front, and flank, and a', Willie,
Our bald commander on the green,
Our faes their left did ca', Willie, 25
And there the greatest slaughter made
That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie.
_Up and war, &c._

First when they saw our Highland mob,
They swore they'd slay us a', Willie;
And yet ane fyl'd his breiks for fear, 30
And so did rin awa', Willie:
We drave him back to Bonnybrigs,
Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie.
_Up and war, &c._

But when their gen'ral view'd our lines,
And them in order saw, Willie, 35
He straight did march into the town,
And back his left did draw, Willie:
Thus we taught them the better gate,
To get a better fa', Willie.
_Up and war, &c._

And then we rally'd on the hills, 40
And bravely up did draw, Willie;
But gin ye spear wha wan the day,
I'll tell you what I saw, Willie:
We baith did fight, and baith were beat,
And baith did run awa', Willie. 45
So there's my canty Highland sang
About the thing I saw, Willie.

THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLEY'S RETREAT FROM THE BATTLE OF SHERIFFMUIR.

See p. 156. From _A New Book of Old Ballads_, p. 30.

Hogg inserted this ballad in the _Jacobite Relics_, ii. 13, using, says Maidment, the editor of the publication cited above, a very imperfect manuscript copy. The following version was taken from the original broad-side, supposed to be unique. There are very considerable variations in the language of the two copies, and the order of the stanzas is quite different. This says Hogg, "is exclusively a party song, made by some of the Grants, or their adherents, in obloquy of their more potent neighbours, the Gordons. It is in a great measure untrue; for, though the Marquis of Huntley was on the left wing at the head of a body of horse, and among the gentlemen that fled, yet two battalions of Gordons, or at least of Gordon's vassals, perhaps mostly of the Clan Chattan, behaved themselves as well as any on the field, and were particularly instrumental in breaking the Whig cavalry, or the left wing of their army, and driving them back among their foot. On this account, as well as that of the bitter personalities that it contains, the "song is only curious as an inveterate party song, and not as a genuine humorous description of the fight that the Marquis and his friends were in. The latter part of the [third] stanza seems to allude to an engagement that took place at Dollar, on the 24th October, a fortnight previous to the battle of Sheriffmuir. Mar had despatched a small body of cavalry to force an assessment from the town of Dunfermline, of which Argyle getting notice, sent out a stronger party, who surprised them early in the morning before daylight, and arrested them, killing some and taking seventeen prisoners, several of whom were Gordons. The last stanza [but one] evidently alludes to the final submission of the Marquis and the rest of the Gordons to King George's government, which they did to the Grants and the Earl of Sutherland. The former had previously taken possession of Castle Gordon; of course, the malicious bard of the Grants, with his ill-scraped pen, was not to let that instance of the humiliation of his illustrious neighbours pass unnoticed.--JACOBITE RELICS, vol. ii. p. 255.

From Bogie side to Bogie Gight,
The Gordons all conveen'd, man,
With all their might, to battle wight,[L3]
Together close they join'd, man,[L4]
To set their king upon the throne, 5
And to protect the church, man;
But fy for shame! they soon ran hame,
And left him in the lurch, man.
_Vow as the Marquis ran,
Coming from Dumblane, man!
Strabogie did b--t itself,
And Enzie was not clean, man._

Their chieftain was a man of fame,
And doughty deeds had wrought, man, 10
Which future ages still shall name,
And tell how well he fought, man.
For when the battle did begin,
Immediately his Grace, man,
Put spurs to Florance, and so ran[L15] 15
By all, and wan the race, man.
_Vow, &c._