Chapter XXX: Appendix: Flodden Field (5)

37^{1,2}.
The wind was faire, the boatmen calld,
And all the saylors were on borde;
Then William Douglas took to his boat,
And with him went that noble lord.

37^{3–6}.
Then he cast up a silver wand,
Says, Gentle lady, fare thee well!
The lady fett a sigh soe deepe,
And in a dead swoone down shee fell.

38, 39.
Now let us goe back, Douglas, he sayd,
A sickness hath taken yond faire ladìe;
If ought befall yond lady but good,
Then blamed for ever I shall bee.

40^2. Come on, come on, and let her bee.

40^4. For to: that gay.

41.
‘If you’ll not turne yourself, my lord,
Let me goe with my chamberlaine;
We will but comfort that faire lady,
And wee will return to you againe.

42^{2–4}.
‘Come on, come on, and let her bee;
My sister is crafty, and wold beguile
A thousand such as you and mee.

43^2. Now _wanting_: _restored_, 1794.

43^{3,4} _wanting._

43^{5–6}.
Hee sent his man to ask the Douglas
When they shold that shooting see.

44^1. Faire words, quoth he, they make.

44^2. And that by thee and thy lord is seen.

44^3. You may hap to.

44^4. Ere you that shooting reach, I ween.

45^1. his hatt pulled over.

45^{2–4}.
He thought his lord then was betrayd;
And he is to Earle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd.

46 _wanting._

47^1. head, man, quoth his lord,

47^{2–4}.
Nor therfore let thy courage fail;
He did it but to prove thy heart,
To see if he cold make it quail.

48^1. had other fifty sayld.

48^3. calld to the Douglas himselfe. to D., 1794.

48^4. Sayd, What wilt thou nowe doe.

49^2. And your horse goe swift as ship.

50^1. sayd. sayth, 1794.

50^2. What needest thou to flyte with mee.

51^1. he hath. hath, 1794.

51^2. Who dealt with mee so treacherouslìe.

51^3. A false Armstrong he hath. hath, 1794.

51^4. geere that. geere, 1794.

52^3. landed him at Berwick towne. _MS. reading restored_, 1794.

52^4. The Douglas landed Lord Percie.

_MS. reading restored with_ ‘laird’ _for_ land.

Then he at Yorke was doomde to dye,
It was, alas! a sorrowful sight;
Thus they betrayed that noble earle,
Who ever was a gallant wight.

177

THE EARL OF WESTMORELAND

‘Earle of Westmorlande,’ Percy MS., p. 112; Hales and Furnivall, I,
292.

“These lines,” says Percy in a note in his MS. to 1^1, “are given in one of my old copies to Lord Northumberland; they seem here corrupted.” The first three stanzas, with extensive variations, begin ‘Northumberland betrayed by Douglas,’ as printed in the Reliques, I, 258, 1765. It will be remarked that Percy does not allege that he has an old copy of this ballad, though he implies he has one of the other, ‘Northumberland betrayed by Douglas.’

The earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland, as has been seen, upon being forced to leave Liddesdale, took refuge for a short time with one of the Armstrongs, John of the Side (cf. st. 3). They parted company, and Westmoreland, Lady Northumberland, Francis Norton, and others, were received by Sir Thomas Ker at Fernihurst, near Jedburgh; Old Norton, Markenfield, and others, by Buccleuch at Branxholm. Lady Northumberland shortly after removed to Hume Castle. The Regent Murray sent a secret messenger to persuade Fernihurst and Buccleuch to render into his hands the “Earl of Westmoreland and the other her Majesty’s principal rebels being in their bounds,” Jan. 14, 1570 (cf. st. 9). Westmoreland escaped to Flanders in the autumn of 1570, “with very slight means.” He was very desirous to make his peace with Elizabeth, but the efforts he made were unsuccessful, and he wore out thirty-one years in the Low Countries, a pensioner of Spain, dying at Newport in November, 1601. The countess, his wife, daughter of the poet Surrey, a highly educated and in every way admirable woman, was treated by Elizabeth as innocent of treason (she was a zealous Protestant), and was granted a decent annuity for the support of herself and her three daughters. The Countess of Northumberland fled to Flanders in 1570, and lived on the King of Spain’s bounty, separated from her children, and with no consolation but such as she derived from her intense religious and theological convictions, until 1596.[268]

The ballad-story is that after the flight (as it is described) from Bramham (‘Bramaball’) Moor, Westmoreland sought refuge with Jock Armstrong on the west border, who also “took”[269] or sheltered Old Norton and other of the rebels. Neville does not think the Debateable Land safe, and goes to Scotland, to Hume Castle, where all the banished men find welcome. The Regent is minded to write to Lord Hume to see whether he can be brought to surrender the fugitives, but on second thoughts, being at deadly feud with Hume, he concludes that writing will serve no purpose. (10^4 is not very intelligible.) He will rather send for troops from Berwick, and take the men by force. Lord Hume gets knowledge of the Regent’s intention, and removes his guests to the castle of ‘Camelye.’ But still Neville sees that there is no biding even in Scotland, and he and his comrades take a noble ship, to be mariners on the sea.

So far the ballad, it will be perceived, has an historical substratum, though details are incorrect; what follows is pure fancy work, or rather an imitation of stale old romance.

After cruising three months, a large ship is sighted. Neville calls Markenfield to council. The latter, who knows every banner that is borne, knows whether any man that he has once laid eyes on is friend or foe, knows every language that is spoken, and who has besides (st. 39) a gift of prophecy. By the serpent and the serpent’s head and the mole in the midst, Markenfield is able to say that the ship is Don John of Austria’s, and he advises flight. This counsel (which would have lost Neville much glory and a hundred pounds a day) does not please the earl; he orders his own standard of the Dun Bull to be displayed. Don John sends a pinnace, with a herald, to fetch the name of the master of the ship he has met. Neville refuses to give up his name until he knows the master of the other vessel; the herald informs him that it is Duke John of Austria, who lives in Seville; then says the Briton, Charles Neville is my name, and in England I was Earl of Westmoreland. The herald makes his report, and is sent back to invite the nobleman to Don John’s ship; for Don John had read in the ‘Book of Mable’ that a Briton, Charles Neville, ‘with a child’s voice,’ should come over the sea. Neville is courteously received; Don John desires to see his men; it is but a small company, says the earl, and calls in Markenfield the prophet, Dacres, Master Norton and four sons, and John of Carnabye. These are all my company, says Neville; when we were in England, our prince and we could not agree. The duke says Norton and his sons shall go to France, and also Dacres, who shall be a captain; Neville and Markenfield shall go to Seville, and the two others (there is but one other, John of Carnabye) are to go with Dacres. Neville will not part with men who have known him in weal and woe, and the duke says that, seeing he has so much manhood, he shall part with none of them. Both ships land at Seville, where the duke recommends Neville to the queen as one who wished to serve her as captain. The queen, first acquainting herself with his name, makes Neville captain over forty thousand men, to keep watch and ward in Seville, and to war against the heathen soldan. The soldan, learning in Barbary that a venturesome man is in Seville, sends him, through the queen, a challenge to single combat, both lands to be joined in one according to the issue of the fight. The queen declines this particular challenge, but promises the soldan a fight every day for three weeks, if he wishes it. Neville overhears all this and offers the queen to fight the soldan; she thinks it great pity that Neville should die, though he is a banished man. Don John informs the queen that he has read in the Book of Mable that a Briton was to come over the sea, Charles Neville by name, with a child’s voice, and that this man there present hath heart and hand. (62 is corrupted.) The queen’s council put their heads together, and it is determined that Neville shall fight with the soldan. The battle is to come off at the Headless Cross. Neville wishes to see the queen’s ensign. In the ensign is a broken sword, with bloody hands and a headless cross. The all-knowing Markenfield pronounces that these are a token that the prince has suffered a sore overthrow. Neville orders his Dun Bull to be set up and trumpets to blow, makes Markenfield captain over his host during his absence, and rides to the headless cross, where he finds the soldan, a foul man to see. The soldan cries out, Is it some kitchen-boy that comes to fight with me? Neville replies with a commonplace: thou makest[270] so little of God’s might, the less I care for thee. After a fierce but indecisive fight of an hour, the soldan, with a glance at his antagonist, says, No man shall overcome me except it be Charles Neville. Neville, without avowing his name, waxes bold, and presently strikes off the soldan’s head. The queen comes out of the city with a procession, takes the crown from her head, and wishes to make him king on the spot, but Neville informs her that he has a wife in England. So the queen calls for a penman and writes Neville down for a hundred pound a day, for which he returns thanks, and proffers his services as champion if ever her Grace shall stand in need.

4. Martinfield is Thomas Markenfield of York, one of the most active promoters of the rising. He had been long a voluntary exile on account of religion, but returned to England the year before the rebellion. He fled to the continent with Westmoreland and the Nortons, and had a pension of thirty-six florins a month from Spain.

By Lord Dakers should be meant Edward, son of William, Lord Dacre, for he is in the list of fugitive rebels demanded of the Regent Murray by Lord Sussex. He fled to Flanders. But Leonard Dacre may be intended, who, though he did not take part with the earls, engaged in a rebellion of his own in February, 1570, fought and lost a battle, and like the rest fled to Flanders.

5. Only two of Richard Norton’s sons went to the Low Countries with their father, Francis and Sampson. John Carnaby of Langley is in a list of persons indicted for rebellion. (Sharp, p. 230.) No reason appears why he should be distinguished.

11. Captain Reed, one of the captains of Berwick, was suspected of having to do with the rebels, and on one occasion was observed to be in company with some of the Nortons, in arms. He was committed to ward, but Lord Hunsdon stood his friend and brought him through safely. Sharp, p. 15 f.

21 ff. Don John’s sole connection with the rebels seems to have been the paying of their pensions for the short time during which he was governor of the Netherlands, 1576–78. Westmoreland’s pension was two hundred florins a month. (Sharp, p. 223, note.)

1
‘How long shall fortune faile me now,
And keepe me heare in deadlye dreade?
How long shall I in bale abide,
In misery my life to leade?

2
‘To ffall from my rose, it was my chance;
Such was the Queene of England free;
I tooke a lake, and turned my backe,
On Bramaball More shee caused me flye.

3
‘One gentle Armstrong _tha_t I doe ken,
Alas, w_i_th thee I dare not mocke!
Thou dwellest soe far on the west border,
Thy name is called the Lo_rd_ Iocke.’

4
Now hath Armstrong taken noble Nevill,
And as one Martinfield did p_ro_fecye;
He hath taken the Lo_rd_ Dakers,
A lords sonne of great degree.

5
He hath taken old M_aster_ Nortton,
And sonnes four in his companye;
Hee hath taken another gentleman,
Called Iohn of Carnabie.

6
Then bespake him Charles Nevill;
To all his men, I wott, sayd hee,
Sayes, I must into Scottland fare;
Soe nie the borders is noe biding for me.

7
When he came to Humes Castle,
And all his noble companye;
The Lo_rd_ Hume halched them right soone,
Saying, Banished men, welcome to mee!

8
They had not beene in Humes Castle
Not a month and dayes three,
But the regent of Scottland and he got witt
_Tha_t banished men there shold be.

9
‘I’le write a letter,’ sayd the regent then,
‘And send to Humes Castle hastilye,
To see whether Lo_rd_ Hume wilbe soe good
To bring the banished men vnto mee.

10
‘_Tha_t lord and I haue beene att deadlye fuyde,
And hee and I cold neu_er_ agree;
Writting a letter, _tha_t will not serue;
The banished men must not speake w_i_th me.

11
‘But I will send for the garrison of Barwicke,
_Tha_t they will come all w_i_th speede,
And w_i_th them will come a noble captaine,
W_hi_c_h_ is called Capt_ain_ Reade.’

12
Then the Lo_rd_ Hume he got witt
They wold seeke vnto Nevill, where he did lye;
He tooke them out of the castle of Hume,
And brought them into the castle of Camelye.

13
Then bespake him Charles Nevill,
To all his men, I wott, spoke hee,
Sayes, I must goe take a noble shippe,
And wee’le be marriners vpon the sea.

14
I’le seeke out fortune where it doth lye;
In Scottland there is noe byding for mee;
Then the tooke leaue w_i_th fayre Scottland,
For they are sealing vpon the sea.

15
They had not sayled vpon the sea
Not one day and monthes three,
But they were ware of a Noble shippe,
_Tha_t fiue topps bare all soe hye.

16
Then Nevill called to Martinfeeld,
Sayd, Martinffeeld, come hither to mee;
Some good councell, Martinfeeld,
I pray thee giue it vnto mee.

17
Thou told me when I was in England fayre,
Before _tha_t I did take the sea,
Thou neu_er_ sawst noe banner borne
But thou wold ken it w_i_th thine eye.

18
Thou neu_er_ saw noe man in the face,
Iff thou had seene before w_i_th thine eye,
[But] thou coldest haue kend thy freind by thy foe,
And then haue told it vnto mee.

19
Thou neu_er_ heard noe speeche spoken,
Neither in Greeke nor Hebrewe,
[But] thou coldest haue answered them in any language,
And then haue told it vnto mee.

20
‘M_aster_, m_aster_, see you yonder faire ancyent?
Yonder is the serpent and the serpents head,
The mould-warpe in the middest of itt,
And itt all shines w_i_th gold soe redde.

21
‘Yonder is Duke Iohn of Austria,
A noble warryour on the sea,
Whose dwelling is in Ciuill land,
And many men, God wot, hath hee.’

22
Then bespake him Martinfeelde,
To all his fellowes, I wot, said hee,
Turne our noble shipp about,
And _tha_t’s a token _tha_t wee will flee.

23
‘Thy councell is not good, Martinfeeld;
Itt falleth not out fitting for mee;
I rue the last time I turnd my backe;
I did displease my prince and the countrye.’

24
Then bespake him noble Nevill,
To all his men, I wott, sayd hee,
Sett me vp my faire Dun Bull,
W_i_th gilden hornes hee beares all soe hye.

25
And I will passe yonder noble Duke,
By the leaue of mild Marye;
For yonder is the Duke of Austria,
_Tha_t trauells now vpon the sea.

26
And then bespake this noble Duke,
Vnto his men then sayd hee,
Yonder is sure some nobleman,
Or else some youth _tha_t will not flee.

27
I will put out a pinace fayre,
A harold of armes vpon the sea,
And goe thy way to yonder noble shippe,
And bring the m_aste_rs name to mee.

28
When the herald of armes came before noble Nevill,
He fell downe low vpon his knee:
‘You must tell me true what is yo_u_r name,
And in what countrye yo_u_r dwelling may bee.’

29
‘_Tha_t will I not doe,’ sayd noble Nevill,
‘By Mary mild, _tha_t mayden ffree,
Except I first know thy m_aste_rs name,
And in what country his dwelling may bee.’

30
Then bespake the herald of armes,
O _tha_t he spoke soe curteouslye!
Duke Iohn of Austria is my m_aste_rs name,
He will neuer lene it vpon the sea.

31
He hath beene in the citye of Rome,
His dwelling is in Ciuillee:
‘Then wee are poore Brittons,’ the Nevill can say,
‘Where wee trauell vpon the sea.

32
‘And Charles Nevill itt is my name,
I will neu_er_ lene it vpon the sea;
When I was att home in England faire,
I was the Erle of Westmoreland,’ sayd hee.

33
Then backe is gone this herald of armes
Whereas this noble duke did lye;
‘Loe, yonder are poore Brittons,’ can he say,
‘Where the trauell vpon the sea.

34
‘And Charles Nevill is their m_aste_rs name,
He will neuer lene it vpon the sea;
When he was at home in England fayre,
He was the Erle of Westmoreland, said hee.’

35
Then bespake this noble duke,
And euer he spake soe hastilye,
And said, Goe backe to yonder noble-man,
And bid him come and speake w_i_th me.

36
For I haue read in the Booke of Mable,
There shold a Brittaine come ou_er_ the sea,
Charles Nevill w_i_th a childs voice:
I pray God _tha_t it may be hee.

37
When these two nobles they didden meete,
They halched eche other right curteouslye;
Yett Nevill halched Iohn the sooner
Because a banished man, alas! was hee.

38
‘Call in yo_u_r men,’ sayd this noble duke,
‘Faine yo_u_r men _tha_t I wold see;’
‘Euer alas!’ said noble Nevill,
‘They are but a litle small companye.’

39
First he called in Martinfield,
_Tha_t Martinffeeld _tha_t cold p_ro_phecye;
He call[ed] in then Lo_rd_ Dakers,
A lords sonne of high degree.

40
Then called he in old M_aster_ Nortton,
And sonnes four in his companye;
He called in one other gentleman,
Called Iohn of Carnabye.

41
‘Loe! these be all my men,’ said noble Nevill,
‘And all _tha_t’s in my companye;
When we were att home in England fayre,
Our prince and wee cold not agree.’

42
Then bespake this noble duke:
To try yo_u_r manhood on the sea,
Old M_aster_ Nortton shall goe ou_er_ into France,
And his sonnes four in his companye.

43
And my lo_rd_ Dakers shall goe over into Ffrance,
There a captaine ffor to bee;
And those two other gentlemen wold goe w_i_th him,
And for to fare in his companye.

44
And you yo_u_r-selfe shall goe into Ciuill land,
And Marttinffeild _tha_t can p_ro_phecye;
‘_Tha_t will I not doe,’ sayd noble Nevill,
‘By Mary mild, _tha_t mayden free.

45
‘For the haue knowen me in wele and woe,
In neede, scar[s]nesse and pouertye;
Before I’le p_ar_t w_i_th the worst of them,
I’le rather p_ar_t w_i_th my liffe,’ sayd hee.

46
And then bespake this noble duke,
And euer he spake soe curteouslye;
Sayes, You shall p_ar_t w_i_th none of them,
There is soe much manhood in y_ou_r bodye.

47
Then these two noblemen labored together,
Pleasantlye vpon the sea;
Their landing was in Ciuill land,
In Ciuilee that ffaire citye.

48
Three nights att this dukes Nevill did lye,
And serued like a nobleman was hee;
Then the duke made a supplication,
And sent it to the queene of Ciuilee.

49
Saying, Such a man is yo_u_r citye w_i_thin,
I mett him pleasantlye vpon the sea;
He seemes to be a noble man,
And captaine to yo_u_r Grace he faine wold bee.

50
Then the queene sent for [these] noble men
For to come into her companye;
When Nevill came before the queene,
Hee kneeled downe vpon his knee.

51
Shee tooke him vp by the lilly-white hand,
Said, Welcome, my lo_r_d, hither to me;
You must first tell me yo_u_r name,
And in what countrye thy dwelling may bee.

52
He said, Charles Nevill is my name;
I will neu_er_ lene it in noe countrye;
When I was att home in England fayre,
I was the Erle of Westmorland trulye.

53
The queene made him captaine ou_er_ forty thousand,
Watch and ward w_i_thin Ciuill land to keepe,
And for to warr against the heathen soldan,
And for to helpe her in her neede.

54
When the heathen soldan he gott witt,
In Barbarye where he did lye,
Sainge, Such a man is in yonder citye w_i_thin,
And a bold venturer by sea is hee.

55
Then the heathen soldan made a letter,
And sent it to the queene instantlye,
And all that heard this letter reade
Where it was rehersed in Ciuillee.

56
Saying, Haue you any man yo_u_r land w_i_thin
Man to man dare fight w_i_th mee?
And both our lands shalbe ioyned in one,
And cristened lands they both shalbe.

57
Shee said, I haue noe man my land w_i_thin
Man to man dare fight w_i_th thee;
But euery day thou shalt haue a battell,
If it be for these weekes three.

58
All beheard him Charles Nevill,
In his bedd where he did lye,
And when he came the queene before,
He fell downe low vpon his knee.

59
‘Grant me a boone, my noble dame,
For Chrissts loue _tha_t dyed on tree;
Ffor I will goe fight w_i_th yond heathen soldan,
If you will bestowe the manhood on mee.’

60
Then bespake this curteous queene,
And eu_er_ shee spoke soe curteouslye:
Though you be a banished man out of yo_u_r realme,
It is great pitye _tha_t thou shold dye.

61
Then bespake this noble duke,
As hee stood hard by the queenes knee:
As I haue read in the Booke of Mable,
There shall a Brittone come ou_er_ the sea,

62
And Charles Nevill shold be his name;
But a childs voyce, I wott, hath hee,
And if he be in Christendome;
For hart and hand this man hath hee.

63
Then the queenes councell cast their heads together,
. . . . . . .
_Tha_t Nevill shold fight w_i_th the heathen soldan
_Tha_t dwelt in the citye of Barbarye.

64
The battell and place appointed was
In a fayre greene, hard by the sea,
And they shood meete att the Headless Crosse,
And there to fight right manfullye.

65
Then Nevill cald for the queenes ancient,
And faine _tha_t ancient he wold see;
The brought him forth the broken sword,
W_i_th bloodye hands therein trulye.

66
The brought him forth the headless crosse,
In _tha_t ancyent it was seene;
‘O this is a token,’ sayd Martinfeeld,
‘_Tha_t sore ouerthrowen this prince hath beene.

67
‘O sett me vp my fayre Dun Bull,
And trumpetts blow me farr and nee,
Vntill I come w_i_thin a mile of the Headlesse Crosse,
_Tha_t the Headlesse Crosse I may see.’

68
Then lighted downe noble Nevill,
And sayd, Marttinffeeld, come hither to me;
Heere I make thee choice cap_tain_ over my host
Vntill againe I may thee see.

69
Then Nevill rode to the Headless Crosse,
W_hi_ch stands soe fayre vpon the sea;
There was he ware of the heathen soldan,
Both fowle and vglye for to see.

70
Then the soldan began for to call;
Twise he called lowd and hye,
And sayd, What is this? Some kitchin boy
_Tha_t comes hither to fight w_i_th mee?

71
Then bespake him Charles Nevill,
But a childs voice, I wott, had hee:
‘Thou spekest soe litle of Gods might,
Much more lesse I doe care for thee.’

72
Att the first meeting _tha_t these two mett,
The heathen soldan and the christen man,
The broke their speares quite in sunder,
And after _tha_t on foote did stand.

73
The next meeting _tha_t these two mett,
The swapt together w_i_th swords soe fine;
The fought together till they both swett,
Of blowes _tha_t were both derf and dire.

74
They fought an houre in battell strong;
The soldan marke[d] Nevill w_i_th his eye;
‘There shall neuer man me ouercome
Except it be Charles Nevill,’ sayd hee.

75
Then Nevill he waxed bold,
And cunning in fight, I wott, was hee;
Euen att the gorgett of the soldans iacke
He stroke his head of p_re_sentlye.

76
Then kneeled downe noble Nevill,
And thanked God for his great grace,
_Tha_t he shold come soe farr into a strang[e] land,
To ouercome the soldan in place.

77
Hee tooke the head vpon his sword-poynt,
And carryed it amongst his host soe fayre;
When the saw the soldans head,
They thanked God on their knees there.

78
Seuen miles from the citye the queene him mett,
W_i_th p_ro_cession _tha_t was soe fayre;
Shee tooke the crowne beside her heade,
And wold haue crowned him k_ing_ there.

79
‘Now nay! Now nay! my noble dame,
For soe, I wott, itt cannott bee;
I haue a ladye in England fayre,
And wedded againe I wold not bee.’

80
The queene shee called for her penman,
I wot shee called him lowd and hye,
Saying, Write him downe a hundred pound a day,
To keepe his men more merrylye.

81
‘I thanke yo_u_r Grace,’ sayd noble Nevill,
‘For this worthy gift you haue giuen to me;
If euer yo_u_r Grace doe stand in neede,
Champion to yo_u_r Highnesse again I’le bee.’

* * * * *

1^1. feare _for_ dreade.

2^2. fayre _for_ free.

2^4. my _for_ me.

5^2, 40^2, 42^4. 4.

5^4. Carnakie: _cf._ 40^4.

8^2, 15^2, 48^1, 57^4. 3.

8^3. he & god.

14^1. fortume.

15^4. 5.

20^3. middest ffitt.

35. The Second Part.

37^1, 43^3, 47^1, 72^1, 73^1. 2.

48^4. Ciuilee. _In this and the like names following, the_ u _has
only one stroke in the MS., as often happens. The letter is not
meant for_ c, _clearly, as it has not the accent or beak of a_
c. _Furnivall._

53^1. 40000.

55^3. all they? all these?

62^3. ben.

70^2. 2[se :].

78^1. 7.

80^2. 100[li :].

And _for_ & _always_.

178

CAPTAIN CAR, OR, EDOM O GORDON

#A.# Cotton MS. Vespasian, A. xxv, No 67, fol. 187, of the last
quarter of the 16th century,[271] British Museum; Ritson’s Ancient
Songs, 1790, p. 137; Böddeker, in Jahrbuch für romanische und
englische Sprache und Literatur, XV, 126, 1876 (very incorrectly);
Transactions of the New Shakspere Society, 1880–86, Appendix, p.
52[B], edited by F. J. Furnivall.

#B.# Percy MS., p. 34; Hales and Furnivall, I, 79.

#C.# Percy Papers, from a servant of Rev. Robert Lambe’s, 1766.

#D.# ‘Edom of Gordon,’ an ancient Scottish Poem. Never before printed.
Glasgow, printed and sold by Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1755, small
4º, 12 pages. Ritson, Scotish Songs, II, 17.

#E.# ‘Edom o Gordon,’ Kinloch MSS, V, 384.

#F.# The New Statistical Account of Scotland, V, 846, 1845; ‘Loudoun
Castle,’ The Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire, J. Paterson and C. Gray,
1st Series, p. 74, Ayr, 1846.

#G.# ‘The Burning o Loudon Castle,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 543.

First printed by the Foulises, Glasgow, 1755, after a copy furnished by Sir David Dalrymple, “who gave it as it was preserved in the memory of a lady.” This information we derive from Percy, who inserted the Dalrymple ballad in his Reliques, 1765, I, 99, “improved, and enlarged with several fine stanzas recovered from a fragment ... in the Editor’s folio MS.” Seven stanzas of the enlarged copy were adopted from this MS., with changes; 16^{2,4}, 30, 35, 36, are Percy’s own; the last three of the Glasgow edition are dropped. Herd’s copy, The Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 234, is from Percy’s Reliques; so is Pinkerton’s, Scottish Tragic Ballads, 1781, p. 43, with the omission of the seventh stanza and many alterations. Ritson, Scotish Songs, 1794, II, 17, repeats the Glasgow copy; so the Campbell MSS, I, 155, and Finlay, I, 85. The copy in Buchan’s Gleanings, p. 180, is Percy’s, with one stanza from Ritson. Of twelve stanzas given in Burton’s History of Scotland, V, 70 f., 3–6 are from Percy’s Reliques (modified by #E#, a fragment obtained by Burton), the rest from #D#,

During the three wretched and bloody years which followed the assassination of the regent Murray, the Catholic Earl of Huntly, George Gordon, was one of the most eminent and active of the partisans of the queen. Mary created him her lieutenant-governor, and his brother, Adam Gordon, a remarkably gallant and able soldier, whether so created or not, is sometimes called the queen’s deputy-lieutenant in the north. Our ballad is concerned with a minor incident of the hostilities in Aberdeenshire between the Gordons and the Forbeses, a rival but much less powerful clan, who supported the Reformed faith and the regency or king’s party.[272]

“The queen’s lieutenant-deputy in the north, called Sir Adam Gordon of Auchindown, knight, was very vigilant in his function; for suppressing of whom the Master of Forbes was directed, with the regent’s commission. But the first encounter, which was upon the ninth day of October [1571], Auchindown obtained such victory that he slew of the Forbeses a hundred and twenty persons, and lost very few of his own.” This was the battle of Tulliangus, on the northern slope of the hills of Coreen, some thirty miles northwest of Aberdeen. Both parties having been reinforced, an issue was tried again on the twentieth of November at Crabstane, in the vicinity of Aberdeen, where Adam Gordon inflicted a severe defeat on the Forbeses.[273]

“But what glory and renown,” says the contemporary History of King James the Sixth, “he [Gordon] obtained of these two victories was all cast down by the infamy of his next attempt; for immediately after this last conflict he directed his soldiers to the castle of Towie, desiring the house to be rendered to him in the queen’s name; which was obstinately refused by the lady, and she burst forth with certain injurious words. And the soldiers being impatient, by command of their leader, Captain Ker, fire was put to the house, wherein she and the number of twenty-seven persons were cruelly burnt to the death.”

Another account, reported by a contemporary who lived in Edinburgh, is that “Adam Gordon sent Captain Ker to the place of Toway, requiring the lady thereof to render the place of Carrigill to him in the queen’s name, which she would noways do; whereof the said Adam having knowledge, moved in ire towards her, caused raise fire thereintill, wherein she, her daughters, and other persons were destroyed, to the number of twenty-seven or thereby.”[274] This was in November, 1571.

We have a third report of this outrage from Richard Bannatyne, also a contemporary, a man, it may be observed, bitterly hostile to the queen’s party. “Adam of Gordon ... went to the house of Towie, which he burnt and twenty four persons in the same, never one escaping but one woman that came through the corns and hather which was cast to the house-sides, whereby they were smothered. This was done under assurance; for the laird of Towie’s wife, being sister to the lady Crawfurd (and also died within the house), sent a boy to the laird in time of the truce (which was for the space of twelve hours) to see on what conditions they should render the house. In the mean time, Adam Gordon’s men laid the corns and timbers and hather about the house, and set all on fire.”[275]

Buchanan puts the incident which mainly concerns us between the fights of Tulliangus and Crabstone; so does Archbishop Spottiswood. “Not long after” the former, says the archbishop, who was a child of six when the affair occurred, Adam Gordon “sent to summon the house of Tavoy, pertaining to Alexander Forbes. The lady refusing to yield without direction from her husband, he put fire unto it and burnt her therein with children and servants, being twenty-seven persons in all. This inhuman and barbarous cruelty made his name odious, and stained all his former doings; otherwise he was held both active and fortunate in his enterprises.”[276]

Buchanan dispatches the burning of the house in a line: Domus Alexandri Forbosii, cum uxore pregnante, liberis et ministris, cremata. Ed. 1582, fol. 248 b.

Towie was a place of no particular importance; judging both by the square keep that remains, which is described as insignificant, and by the number of people that the house contained, it must have been a small place. It is therefore more probable that Captain Ker burnt Towie while executing a general commission to harry the Forbeses than that this house should have been made a special object. But whether this were so or not, it is evident from the terms in which the transaction is spoken of by contemporaries, who were familiarized to a ferocious kind of warfare,[277] that there must have been something quite beyond the common in Captain Ker’s proceedings on this occasion, for they are denounced even in those days as infamous, inhuman, and barbarously cruel, and the name of Adam Gordon is said to have been made odious by them.

It is not to be disguised that the language employed by Spottiswood might be so interpreted as to signify that Ker did not act in this dreadful business entirely upon his own responsibility; and the second of the four writers who speak circumstantially of the affair even intimates that Ker applied to his superior for instructions. On the other hand, the author of the History of James the Sixth says distinctly that the house was fired by the command of Ker, whose soldiers were rendered impatient by an obstinate refusal to surrender, accompanied with opprobrious words. The oldest of the ballads, also, which is nearly coeval with the occurrence, speaks only of Captain Car, knows nothing of Adam Gordon. On the other hand, Bannatyne knows nothing, or chooses to say nothing, of Captain Car: Adam Gordon burns the house, and even does this during a truce. It may be said that, even if the act were done without the orders or knowledge of Adam Gordon, he deserves all the ill fame which has fallen to him, for not punishing, or at least discharging, the perpetrator of such an outrage. But this would be applying the standards of the nineteenth century (and its very best standards) to the conduct of the sixteenth. It may be doubted whether there was at that time a man in Scotland, nay, even a man in Europe, who would have turned away a valuable servant because he had cruelly exceeded his instructions.[278]

A favorable construction, where the direct evidence is conflicting, is due to Adam Gordon because of his behavior on two other occasions, one immediately preceding, and the other soon following, the burning of the house of Towie. We are told that he used his victory at Crabstone “very moderately, and suffered no man to be killed after the fury of the fight was past. Alexander Forbes of Strath-gar-neck, author of all these troubles betwixt these two families, was taken at this battle, and as they were going to behead him Auchindown caused stay his execution. He entertained the Master of Forbes and the rest of the prisoners with great kindness and courtesy, he carried the Master of Forbes along with him to Strathbogie, and in end gave him and all the rest leave to depart.”[279] And again, after another success in a fight called The Bourd of Brechin, in the ensuing July, he caused all the prisoners to be brought before him, they expecting nothing but death, and said to them: “My friends and brethren, have in remembrance how God has granted to me victory and the upper hand of you, granting me the same vantage [‘vand and sching’] to punish you wherewith my late father and brother were punished at the Bank of Fair; and since, of the great slaughter made on the Queen’s Grace’s true subjects, and most filthily of the hanging of my soldiers here by the Earl of Lennox; and since, by the hanging of ten men in Leith, with other unlawful acts done contrary to the laws of arms; and I doubt not, if I were under their dominion, as you are under mine, that I should die the death most cruelly. Yet notwithstanding, my good brethren and countrymen, be not afraid nor fear not, for at this present ye shall incur no danger of your bodies, but shall be treated as brethren, and I shall do to you after the commandment of God, in doing good for evil, forgetting the cruelty done to the queen and her faithful subjects, and receiving you as her faithful subjects in time coming. Who promised to do the same, and for assurance hereof each found surety. After which the Regent past hastily out of Sterling to Dundee, charging all manner of man to follow him, with twenty days victuals, against the said Adam Gordon. But there would never a man in those parts obey the charge, by reason of the bond made before and of the great gentleness of the said Adam.”[280]

After the Pacification of February, 1573, Adam Gordon obtained license to go to France and other parts beyond sea, for certain years, on condition of doing or procuring nothing to the hurt of the realm of Scotland; but for private practices of his, contrary to his promise, in conjunction with Captain Ker and others, he was ordered to return home, 12th May, 1574. His brother, the Earl of Huntly, upon information of these unlawful practices in France, was committed to ward, and when released from ward had to give security to the amount of £20,000. Adam Gordon returned in July, 1575, “at the command of the regent,” with twenty gentlemen who had gone to France with him, and was in ward in 1576. He died at St. Johnston in October, 1580, “of a bleeding.” As he was of tender age in 1562, he must still have been a young man.[281]

Thomas Ker was a captain “of men of war”; that is, a professional soldier. As such he is mentioned in one of the articles of the Pacification, where it is declared that Captain Thomas Ker, Captain James Bruce, and Captain Gilbert Wauchop, with their respective lieutenants and ensigns, and two other persons, “shall be comprehended in this present pacification, as also all the soldiers who served under their charges, for deeds of hostility and crimes committed during the present troubles.” He was accused of being engaged in practices against the regency, as we have already seen, in 1574. He was released from ward upon caution in February, 1575. 1578, 26th July, he was summoned to appear before the king and council to answer to such things as should be inquired of him. He is mentioned as a burgher of Aberdeen 1588, 1591. 1593, 3d March, he is required to give caution to the amount of 1000 merks that he will not assist the earls of Huntly and Errol. His “counsail and convoy was chiefly usit” in an important matter at Balrinnes in 1594, at which battle he “behavit himself so valiantly” that he was knighted on the field. November 4, 1594, Captain Thomas Ker and James Ker, his brother, are ordered to be denounced as rebels, having failed to appear to answer touching their treasonable assistance to George, sometime Earl of Huntly; and this seems to be the latest notice of him that has been recovered.[282]

In the Genealogy of the family of Forbes drawn up by Matthew Lumsden in 1580, and continued to 1667 by William Forbes, p. 43 f., ed. 1819, we read: “John Forbes of Towie married —— Grant, daughter to John Grant of Bandallach, who did bear to him a son who was unmercifullie murdered in the castle of Corgaffe; and after the decease of Bandallach’s daughter, the said John Forbes married Margaret Campbell, daughter to Sir John Campbell of Calder, knight, who did bear him three sons, Alex. Forbes of Towie, John Forbes, thereafter of Towie, and William Forbes.... The said John Forbes of Towie, after the murder of Margaret Campbell, married —— Forbes, a daughter to the Reires,” by whom he had a son, who, as also a son of his own, died in Germany. Alexander and William, sons of Margaret Campbell, died without succession, and by the death of an only son of John, junior, the house of Towie became extinct. “The rest of the said Margaret Campbell’s bairns, with herself, were unmercifullie murdered in the castle of Corgaffe.”[283]

According to the Lumsden genealogy, then, Margaret Campbell, with her younger children, and also a son of her husband, John Forbes of Towie, by a former marriage, were murdered at the castle of Corgaffe. Corgarf is a place “exigui nominis,” some fifteen miles west of Towie, and, so far as is known, there is nothing to connect this place with the Forbes family.[284] Three sixteenth-century accounts, and a fourth by an historian who was born before the event, make Towie to be the scene of the “murder,” and Towie we know to have been in the possession of a member of the house of Forbes for several generations. Since Lumsden wrote only nine years after the event, and was more particularly concerned with the Forbes family than any of the other writers referred to, his statement cannot be peremptorily set aside. But we may owe Corgarf to the reviser of 1667, although he professes not to have altered the substance of his predecessor’s work.

Reverting now to the ballad, we observe that none of the seven versions, of which one is put towards the end of the sixteenth century, one is of the seventeenth century, two are of the eighteenth, and the remainder from tradition of the present century, lay the scene at Towie. #E#, which is of this century, has Cargarf. #A#, #B#, the oldest copies (both English), give no name to the castle. Crecrynbroghe in #A#, Bittonsborrow in #B#, are not the name of the castle that is burned, but of a castle suggested for a winter retirement by one of Car’s men, and rejected by the captain. The fragment #C# (English again) also names no place. #D# transfers the scene from the north to the house of Rodes, near Dunse, in Berwickshire, and #F#, #G# to Loudoun castle in Ayrshire; the name of Gordon probably helping to the localizing of the ballad in the former case, and that of Campbell, possibly, in the other.

Captain Car is the leader of the bloody band in #A#, #B#; he is lord of Eastertown #A# 6, 13, of Westertown #B# 5, 9; but ‘Adam’ is said to fire the house in #B# 14. Adam Gordon is the captain in #C-G#. The sufferers are in #A# Hamiltons,[285] in #F#, #G#, Campbells. The name Forbes is not preserved in any version.

#A#, #B#. Martinmas weather forces Captain Car to look for a hold. Crecrynbroghe, #A#, Bittonsborrow, #B#, is proposed, but he knows of a castle where there is a fair lady whose lord is away, and makes for that. The lady sees from the wall a host of men riding towards the castle, and thinks her lord is coming home, but it was the traitor Captain Car. By supper-time he and his men have lighted about the place. Car calls to the lady to give up the house; she shall lie in his arms that night, and the morrow heir his land. She will not give up the house, but fires on Car and his men. [Orders are given to burn the house.] The lady entreats Car to save her eldest son. Lap him in a sheet and let him down, says Car; and when this is done, cuts out tongue and heart, ties them in a handkerchief, and throws them over the wall. The youngest son begs his mother to surrender, for the smoke is smothering him. She would give all her gold and fee for a wind to blow the smoke away; but the fire falls about her head, and she and her children are burned to death. Captain Car rides away, #A#. The lord of the castle dreams, learns by a letter, at London, that his house has been fired, and hurries home. He finds the hall still burning, and breaks out into expressions of grief, #A#. In #B#, half of which has been torn from the manuscript, after reading the letter he says he will find Car wherever Car may be, and, long ere day, comes to Dractonsborrow, where the miscreant is. If nine or ten stanzas were not lost at this point, we should no doubt learn of the revenge that was taken.

In the short fragment #C#, upon surrender being demanded, reply is made by a shot which kills seven of the beleaguerers. An only daughter, smothered by the reek, asks her mother to give up the house. Rather would I see you burnt to ashes, says the mother. The boy on the nurse’s knee makes the same appeal; her mother would sooner see him burnt than give up her house to be Adam of Gordon’s whore.

#D# makes the lady try fair speeches with Gordon, and the lady does not reply with firearms to the proposal that she shall lie by his side. Nevertheless she has spirit enough to say, when her youngest son beseeches her to give up the house, Come weal, come woe, you must take share with me. The daughter, and not the eldest son, is wrapped in sheets and let down the wall; she gets a fall on the point of Gordon’s spear. Then follow deplorable interpolations, beginning with st. 19. Edom o Gordon, having turned the girl over with his spear, and wished her alive, turns her owr and owr again! He orders his men to busk and away, for he cannot look on the bonnie face. One of his men hopes he will not be daunted with a dame, and certainly three successive utterances in the way of sentiment show that the captain needs a little toning up. At this point the lord of the castle is coming over the lea, and sees that his castle is in flames. He and his men put on at their best rate; lady and babes are dead ere the foremost arrives; they go at the Gordons, and but five of fifty of these get away.

And _round and round_ the wae’s he went,
_Their ashes for to view_:
_At last_ into the flames he flew,
And bad the world adieu.

This is superior to turning her owr and owr again, and indeed, in its way, not to be improved.

Nothing need be said of the fragment #E# further than that the last stanza is modern.

#F# is purely traditional, and has one fine stanza not found in any of the foregoing:

Out then spake the lady Margaret,
As she stood on the stair;
The fire was at her goud garters,
The lowe was at her hair.

There is no firing at the assailants (though the lady wishes that her only son could charge a gun). Lady Margaret, with the flame in her hair, would give the black and the brown for a drink of the stream that she sees below. Anne asks to be rowed in a pair of sheets and let down the wall; her mother says that she must stay and die with her. Lord Thomas, on the nurse’s knee, says, Give up, or the reek will choke me. The mother would rather be burned to small ashes than give up the castle, her lord away. And burnt she is with her children nine.

#G# has the eighteen stanzas of #F#,[286] neglecting slight variations, and twenty more (among them the bad #D# 21), nearly all superfluous, and one very disagreeable. Lady Campbell, having refused to “come down” and be “kept” (caught) on a feather-bed, 5, 6, is ironically asked by Gordon to come down and be kept on the point of his sword, 7. Since you will not come down, says Gordon, fire your death shall be. The lady had liefer be burnt to small ashes than give up the castle while her lord is from home, 10. Fire is set. The oldest daughter asks to be rolled in a pair of sheets and flung over the wall. She gets a deadly fall on the point of Gordon’s sword, and is turned over and over again, 18, over and over again, 19. Lady Margaret cries that the fire is at her garters and the flame in her hair. Lady Ann, from childbed where she lies, asks her mother to give up the castle, and is told that she must stay and dree her death with the rest. The youngest son asks his mother to go down, and has the answer that was given Gordon in 10. The waiting-maid begs to have a baby of hers saved; her lady’s long hair is burnt to her brow, and how can she take it? So the babe is rolled in a feather-bed and flung over the wall, and gets a deadly fall on the point of Gordon’s ever-ready sword. Several ill-connected stanzas succeed, three of which are clearly recent, and then pity for Lady Ann Campbell, who was burnt with her nine bairns. Lord Loudon comes home a “sorry” man, but comforts himself with tearing Gordon with wild horses.

A slight episode has been passed over. It is a former servant of the family that breaks through the house-wall and kindles the fire, #A# 21, #D# 12–14, #F# 5, 6, #G# 13, 14. In all but #A# he makes the excuse that he is now Gordon’s man, and must do or die.

There is a Danish ballad of about 1600 (communicated to me by Svend Grundtvig, and, I think, not yet printed) in which Karl grevens søn, an unsuccessful suitor of Lady Linild, burns Lady Linild in her bower, and taking refuge in Maribo church, is there burned himself by Karl kejserens søn, Lady Linild’s preferred lover. See also ‘Liden Engel,’ under ‘Fause Foodrage,’ No 89, II, 298.

The copy in Percy’s Reliques is translated by Bodmer, I, 126, and by Doenninges, p. 69; Pinkerton’s copy by Grundtvig, No 9, and by Loève-Veimars, p. 307; Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 13, apparently translates Allingham’s.

A

Cotton MS. Vespasian, A. xxv, No 67, fol. 187; Furnivall, in
Transactions of the New Shakspere Society, 1880–86, Appendix, p.
52†.

1
It befell at Martynmas,
When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care said to his me_n_,
We must go take a holde.

Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,
And sike and like to die;
The sikest nighte that eu_er_ I abode,
God lord haue m_er_cy on me!

2
‘Haille, m_aste_r, and wether you will,
And wether ye like it best;’
‘To the castle of Crecrynbroghe,
And there we will take o_ur_ reste.’

3
‘I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is builded of lyme and stone;
Within their is a gay ladie,
Her lord is riden and gone.’

4
The ladie she lend on her castle-walle,
She loked vpp and downe;
There was she ware of an host of me_n_,
Come riding to the towne.

5
‘Se yow, my meri men all,
And se yow what I see?
Yonder I see an host of me_n_,
I muse who they bee.’

6
She thought he had ben her wed lord,
As he comd riding home;
Then was it trait_ur_ Captaine Care
The lord of Ester-towne.

7
They wer no son_er_ at supper sett,
Then after said the grace,
Or Captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.

8
‘Gyue ou_er_ thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande;
To-nighte thou shall ly w_i_t_h_in my arm_es_,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande.’

9
The_n_ bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde:
O mother dere, geue ou_er_ y_our_ howsse,
Or ell_es_ we shalbe deade.

10
‘I will not geue ou_er_ my hous,’ she saithe,
‘Not for feare of my lyffe;
It shalbe talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe.

11
‘Fetch me my pestilett,
And charge me my gonne,
That I may shott at yonder bloddy butcher,
The lord of Easter-towne.’

12
Styfly vpon her wall she stode,
And lett the pellett_es_ flee;
But then she myst the blody bucher,
And she slew other three.

13
‘[I will] not geue ou_er_ my hous,’ she saithe,
‘Netheir for lord nor lowne;
Nor yet for traito_ur_ Captaine Care,
The lord of Easter-towne.

14
‘I desire of Captine Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would saue my eldest sonne,
The eare of all my lande.’

15
‘Lap him in a shete,’ he sayth,
‘And let him downe to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran shall I be.’

16
The captayne sayd unto him selfe:
Wyth sped, before the rest,
He cut his tonge out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.

17
He lapt them in a handkerchef,
And knet it of knot_es_ three,
And cast them ouer the castell-wall,
At that gay ladye.

18
‘Fye vpon the, Captayne Care,
And all thy bloddy band!
For th_o_u hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land.’