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I.
THE MORE MODERN BALLAD OF CHEVY CHACE.
At the beginning of this volume we gave the old original Song of
_Chevy Chace_. The reader has here the more improved edition of that
fine heroic ballad. It will afford an agreeable entertainment to the
curious to compare them together, and to see how far the latter bard
has excelled his predecessor, and where he has fallen short of him. For
tho' he has every where improved the versification, and generally the
sentiment and diction; yet some few passages retain more dignity in the
ancient copy; at least the obsoleteness of the style serves as a veil
to hide whatever might appear too familiar or vulgar in them. Thus, for
instance, the catastrophe of the gallant Witherington is in the modern
copy exprest in terms which never fail at present to excite ridicule:
whereas in the original it is related with a plain and pathetic
simplicity, that is liable to no such unlucky effect: See the stanza in
page 32, which, in modern orthography, &c. would run thus.
"For Witherington my heart is woe,
That ever he slain should be:
For when his legs were hewn in two,
He knelt and fought on his knee."
So again the stanza which describes the fall of Montgomery is somewhat
more elevated in the ancient copy:
"The dint it was both sad and sore,
He on Montgomery set:
The swan-feathers his arrow bore
With his hearts blood were wet."
p. 31.
We might also add, that the circumstances of the battle are more
clearly conceived and the several incidents more distinctly marked in
the old original, than in the improved copy. It is well known that the
ancient English weapon was the long bow, and that this nation excelled
all others in archery; while the Scottish warriours chiefly depended on
the use of the spear: this characteristic difference never escapes our
ancient bard, whose description of the first onset is to the following
effect:
"The proposal of the two gallant earls to determine the dispute by
single combat being over-ruled; the English, says he, who stood with
their bows ready bent, gave a general discharge of their arrows,
which slew seven score spearmen of the enemy: but, notwithstanding so
severe a loss, Douglas like a brave captain kept his ground. He had
divided his forces into three columns, who, as soon as the English had
discharged the first volley, bore down upon them with their spears,
and breaking through their ranks reduced them to close fighting. The
archers upon this dropt their bows and had recourse to their swords,
and there followed so sharp a conflict, that multitudes on both sides
lost their lives." In the midst of this general engagement, at length,
the two great earls meet, and after a spirited rencounter agree to
breathe; upon which a parley ensues, that would do honour to Homer
himself.
Nothing can be more pleasingly distinct and circumstantial than this:
whereas, the modern copy, tho' in general it has great merit, is here
unluckily both confused and obscure. Indeed the original words seem
here to have been totally misunderstood. "Yet bydys the yerl Douglas
upon the _Bent_," evidently signifies, "Yet the earl Douglas abides in
the _Field_:" whereas the more modern bard seems to have understood by
_Bent_, the inclination of his mind, and accordingly runs quite off
from the subject[893]:
"To drive the deer with hound and horn
Earl Douglas had the bent."
v. 109.
One may also observe a generous impartiality in the old original bard,
when in the conclusion of his tale he represents both nations as
quitting the field without any reproachful reflection on either: though
he gives to his own countrymen the credit of being the smaller number.
"Of fifteen hundred archers of England
Went away but fifty and three;
Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland,
But even five and fifty."
p. 32.
He attributes _Flight_ to neither party, as hath been done in the modern
copies of this ballad, as well Scotch as English. For, to be even with
our latter bard, who makes the Scots to _flee_, some reviser of North
Britain has turned his own arms against him, and printed an edition at
Glasgow, in which the lines are thus transposed:
"Of fifteen hundred Scottish speirs
Went hame but fifty-three:
Of twenty hundred Englishmen
Scarce fifty-five did flee."
And to countenance this change he has suppressed the two stanzas
between ver. 240 and ver. 249.--From that Edition I have here reformed
the Scottish names, which in the modern English ballad appeared to be
corrupted.
When I call the present admired ballad modern, I only mean that it
is comparatively so; for that it could not be writ much later than
the time of Q. Elizabeth, I think may be made appear; nor yet does
it seem to be older than the beginning of the last century.[894] Sir
Philip Sidney, when he complains of the antiquated phrase of _Chevy
Chase_, could never have seen this improved copy, the language of
which is not more ancient than that he himself used. It is probable
that the encomiums of so admired a writer excited some bard to revise
the ballad, and to free it from those faults he had objected to it.
That it could not be much later than that time, appears from the
phrase _doleful dumps_: which in that age carried no ill sound with
it, but to the next generation became ridiculous. We have seen it pass
uncensured in a sonnet that was at that time in request, and where it
could not fail to have been taken notice of, had it been in the least
exceptionable: see above, book ii. song v. ver. 2. Yet, in about half a
century after, it was become burlesque. Vide _Hudibras_, Part I. c. 3,
v. 95.
This much premised, the reader that would see the general beauties of
this ballad set in a just and striking light, may consult the excellent
criticism of Mr. Addison.[895] With regard to its subject: it has
already been considered in page 20. The conjectures there offered
will receive confirmation from a passage in the _Memoirs of Carey
Earl of Monmouth_, 8vo. 1759, p. 165; whence we learn that it was an
ancient custom with the borderers of the two kingdoms, when they were
at peace, to send to the Lord Wardens of the opposite Marches for leave
to hunt within their districts. If leave was granted, then towards
the end of summer they would come and hunt for several days together
"with their _greyhounds for deer_:" but if they took this liberty
unpermitted, then the Lord Warden of the border so invaded, would not
fail to interrupt their sport and chastise their boldness. He mentions
a remarkable instance that happened while he was Warden, when some
Scotch gentlemen coming to hunt in defiance of him, there must have
ensued such an action as this of Chevy Chace, if the intruders had been
proportionably numerous and well-armed; for, upon their being attacked
by his men at arms, he tells us, "some hurt was done, tho' he had given
especiall order that they should shed as little blood as possible."
They were in effect overpowered and taken prisoners, and only released
on their promise to abstain from such licentious sporting for the
future.
Since the former impression of these volumes hath been published, a new
edition of _Collins's Peerage_, 1779, &c., 9 Vols. 8vo. which contains,
in volume ii. p. 334, an historical passage, which may be thought to
throw considerable light on the subject of the preceding ballad: viz.
"In this ... year, 1436, according to Hector Boethius, was fought
the Battle of Pepperden, not far from the Cheviot Hills, between the
Earl of Northumberland (IId Earl, son of Hotspur,) and Earl William
Douglas, of Angus, with a small army of about four thousand men each,
in which the latter had the advantage. As this seems to have been a
private conflict between these two great chieftains of the Borders,
rather than a national war, it has been thought to have given rise to
the celebrated old Ballad of _Chevy-Chase_; which, to render it more
pathetic and interesting, has been heightened with tragical incidents
wholly fictitious." See _Ridpath's Border Hist._ 4to, p. 401.
The following text is given from a copy in the Editor's folio MS.
compared with two or three others printed in black-letter.--In the
second volume of _Dryden's Miscellanies_ may be found a translation of
Chevy-Chace into Latin rhymes. The translator, Mr. Henry Bold, of New
College, undertook it at the command of Dr. Compton, bishop of London;
who thought it no derogation to his episcopal character, to avow a
fondness for this excellent old ballad. See the preface to _Bold's
Latin Songs_, 1685, 8vo.
* * * * *
[The following version varies in certain particulars from the one
in the MS. folio (ed. Hales and Furnivall, 1867, vol. ii. p. i),
and the most important variations are noted at the foot of the
page. Some of the alterations in the arrangement of the words are
improvements, but others are the reverse, for instance verses
129-132. Percy follows the copy printed in the _Collection of Old
Ballads_, 1723 (vol. i. p. 108), much more closely than the MS.]
* * * * *
God prosper long our noble king,
Our lives and safetyes all!
A woefull hunting once there did[896]
In Chevy-Chace befall;
To drive the deere with hound and horne, 5
Erle Percy took his way;[897]
The child may rue that is unborne,
The hunting of that day.
The stout Erle of Northumberland
A vow to God did make, 10
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three summers days to take;
The cheefest harts in Chevy-Chace
To kill and beare away.
These tydings to Erle Douglas came, 15
In Scottland where he lay:
Who sent Erle Percy present word,
He wold prevent his sport.
The English Erle, not fearing that,
Did to the woods resort 20
With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;
All chosen men of might,
Who knew full well in time of neede
To ayme their shafts arright.
The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, 25
To chase the fallow deere:
On munday they began to hunt,
Ere day-light did appeare;
And long before high noone they had
An hundred fat buckes slaine; 30
Then having dined, the drovyers went
To rouze the deare againe.
The bow-men mustered on the hills,
Well able to endure;
Theire backsides all, with speciall care, 35
That day were guarded sure.[898]
The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
The nimble deere to take,[899]
That with their cryes the hills and dales
An eccho shrill did make. 40
Lord Percy to the quarry[900] went,
To view the slaughter'd deere;[901]
Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised
This day to meet me heere:
But if I thought he wold not come, 45
Noe longer wold I stay.
With that, a brave younge gentleman
Thus to the Erle did say:
Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
His men in armour bright; 50
Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
All marching in our sight;
All men of pleasant Tivydale,
Fast by the river Tweede:
O cease your sports, Erle Percy said, 55
And take your bowes with speede;
And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
For there was never champion yett,
In Scotland or in France, 60
That ever did on horsebacke come,
But if my hap[902] it were,
I durst encounter man for man,
With him to break a spere.
Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede, 65
Most like a baron bold,
Rode formost of his company,
Whose armour shone like gold.
Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,
That hunt soe boldly heere, 70
That, without my consent, doe chase
And kill my fallow-deere.
The first man that did answer make,
Was noble Percy hee;
Who sayd, Wee list not to declare, 75
Nor shew whose men wee bee:
Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,
Thy cheefest harts to slay.
Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
And thus in rage did say, 80
Ere thus I will out-braved bee,
One of us two shall dye:
I know thee well, an erle thou art;
Lord Percy, soe am I.
But trust me, Percy, pittye it were, 85
And great offence to kill
Any of these our guiltlesse men,
For they have done no ill.
Let thou and I the battell trye,
And set our men aside. 90
Accurst bee [he], Erle Percy sayd,
By whome this is denyed.[903]
Then stept a gallant squier forth,
Witherington was his name,
Who said, I wold not have it told 95
To Henry our king for shame,
That ere my captaine fought on foote,
And I stood looking on.[904]
You bee two erles, sayd Witherington,
And I a squier alone: 100
Ile doe the best that doe I may,
While I have power to stand:
While I have power to weeld my sword,
Ile fight with hart and hand.
Our English archers bent their bowes,[905] 105
Their harts were good and trew;
Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
Full four-score Scots they slew.
[906][Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,[907]
As Chieftain stout and good. 110
As valiant Captain, all unmov'd
The shock he firmly stood.
His host he parted had in three,
As Leader ware and try'd,
As soon his spearmen on their foes 115
Bare down on every side.
Throughout the English archery
They dealt full many a wound:
But still our valiant Englishmen
All firmly kept their ground: 120
And throwing strait their bows away,
They grasp'd their swords so bright:
And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,
On shields and helmets light.]
They closed full fast on everye side, 125
Noe slacknes there was found;
And many a gallant gentleman
Lay gasping on the ground.
O Christ! it was a griefe to see,[908]
And likewise for to heare, 130
The cries of men lying in their gore,
And scattered here and there.
At last these two stout erles did meet,
Like captaines of great might:
Like lyons wood,[909] they layd on lode, 135
And made a cruell fight:
They fought untill they both did sweat,
With swords of tempered steele;
Until the blood, like drops of rain,
They trickling downe did feele. 140
Yeeld thee, O Percy, Douglas sayd;
In faith I will thee bringe,
Where thou shalt high advanced bee
By James our Scottish king:
Thy ransome I will freely give, 145
And this report of thee,
Thou art the most couragious knight,
That ever I did see.
Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,
Thy proffer I doe scorne; 150
I will not yeelde to any Scott,
That ever yett was borne.
With that, there came an arrow keene
Out of an English bow,
Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,[910] 155
A deepe and deadlye blow:
Who never spake more words than these,[911]
Fight on, my merry men all;
For why, my life is at an end;
Lord Percy sees my fall. 160
Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke
The dead man by the hand;
And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life[912]
Wold I had lost my land.
O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed 165
With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure, a more redoubted knight
Mischance cold never take.
A knight amongst the Scotts there was,
Which saw Erle Douglas dye, 170
Who streight in wrath did vow revenge
Upon the Lord Percye:
Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,
Who, with a spere most bright,
Well-mounted on a gallant steed, 175
Ran fiercely through the fight;
And past the English archers all,
Without all dread or feare;
And through Earl Percyes body then
He thrust his hatefull spere; 180
With such a vehement force and might
He did his body gore,
The staff ran through the other side
A large cloth-yard, and more.
So thus did both these nobles dye, 185
Whose courage none could staine:
An English archer then perceiv'd
The noble erle was slaine;
He had a bow bent in his hand,[913]
Made of a trusty tree; 190
An arrow of a cloth-yard long
Up to the head drew hee:[914]
Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
So right the shaft he sett,
The grey goose-winge that was thereon, 195
In his harts bloode was wett.
This fight did last from breake of day,
Till setting of the sun;
For when they rung the evening-bell,[915]
The battel scarce was done. 200
With stout Erle Percy, there was slaine
Sir John of Egerton,[916]
Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,[917]
Sir James that bold barrôn:
And with Sir George and stout Sir James, 205
Both knights of good account,
Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,
Whose prowesse did surmount.
For Witherington needs must I wayle,
As one in doleful dumpes;[918] 210
For when his leggs were smitten off,
He fought upon his stumpes.
And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine
Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld[919] 215
One foote wold never flee.
Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,[920]
His sisters sonne was hee;
Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,[921]
Yet saved cold not bee. 220
And the Lord Maxwell in like case
Did with Erle Douglas dye:
Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,
Scarce fifty-five did flye.
Of fifteen hundred Englishmen, 225
Went home but fifty-three;
The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chase,
Under the greene woode tree.
Next day did many widdowes come,
Their husbands to bewayle; 230
They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
But all wold not prevayle.
Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,[922]
They bare with them away:
They kist them dead a thousand times, 235
Ere they were cladd in clay.
The newes was brought to Eddenborrow,
Where Scottlands king did raigne,
That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye
Was with an arrow slaine: 240
O heavy newes, King James did say,
Scottland may witnesse bee,
I have not any captaine more
Of such account as hee.
Like tydings to King Henry came, 245
Within as short a space,
That Percy of Northumberland
Was slaine in Chevy-Chese:
Now God be with him, said our king,
Sith it will noe better bee; 250
I trust I have, within my realme,
Five hundred as good as hee:
Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,
But I will vengeance take:
I'll be revenged on them all, 255
For brave Erle Percyes sake.
This vow full well the king perform'd
After, at Humbledowne;
In one day, fifty knights were slayne,
With lords of great renowne: 260
And of the rest, of small account,
Did many thousands dye:[923]
Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,
Made by the Erle Percy.
God save our king, and bless this land 265
With plentye, joy, and peace;
And grant henceforth, that foule debate
'Twixt noblemen may cease.
[Illustration]
The surnames in the foregoing Ballad are altered, either by accident or
design, from the old original copy, and in common editions extremely
corrupted. They are here rectified, as much as they could be. Thus,
[Ver. 202, _Egerton_.] This name is restored (instead of _Ogerton_,
com. ed.) from the Editor's folio MS. The pieces in that MS. appear to
have been collected, and many of them composed (among which might be
this ballad) by an inhabitant of Cheshire; who was willing to pay a
compliment here to one of his countrymen, of the eminent family _De_ or
_Of Egerton_ (so the name was first written) ancestors of the present
Duke of Bridgwater: and this he could do with the more propriety, as
the _Percies_ had formerly great interest in that county. At the fatal
battle of Shrewsbury all the flower of the Cheshire gentlemen lost
their lives fighting in the cause of _Hotspur_.
[Ver. 203, _Ratcliff_.] This was a family much distinguished in
Northumberland. _Edw. Radcliffe, mil._ was sheriff of that county
in the 17 of Hen. VII. and others of the same surname afterwards.
(See _Fuller_, p. 313.) Sir _George Ratcliff_, Knt. was one of the
commissioners of inclosure in 1552. (See _Nicholson_, p. 330.) Of this
family was the late Earl of _Derwentwater_, who was beheaded in 1715.
The Editor's folio MS. however, reads here, _Sir Robert Harcliffe and
Sir William_.
The _Harcleys_ were an eminent family in Cumberland. (See _Fuller_,
p. 224.) Whether this may be thought to be the same name, I do not
determine.
[Ver. 204. _Baron._] This is apparently altered, (not to say corrupted)
from _Hearone_, in p. 32, ver. 114.
[Ver. 207. _Raby._] This might be intended to celebrate one of the
ancient possessors of _Raby Castle_, in the county of Durham. Yet it
is written _Rebbye_, in the fol. MS. and looks like a corruption of
_Rugby_ or _Rokeby_, an eminent family in Yorkshire, see pp. 32, 52.
It will not be wondered that the _Percies_ should be thought to bring
followers out of that county, where they themselves were originally
seated, and had always such extensive property and influence.[924]
[Ver. 215. _Murray._] So the Scottish copy. In the com. edit. it is
_Carrel_ or _Currel_; and _Morrell_ in the fol. MS.
[Ver. 217. _Murray._] So the Scot. edit.--The common copies read
_Murrel_. The fol. MS. gives the line in the following peculiar manner,
"Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliffe too."
[Ver. 219. _Lamb._] The folio MS. has
"Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed."
This seems evidently corrupted from _Lwdale_ or _Liddell_, in the old
copy, see ver. 125. (pp. 32, 52).
FOOTNOTES:
[893] In the present Edition, instead of the unmeaning lines here
censured, an insertion is made of four stanzas modernized from the
ancient copy.
[894] A late writer has started a notion that the more modern copy "was
written to be sung by a party of English, headed by a Douglas in the
year 1524; which is the true reason why, at the same time that it gives
the advantage to the English soldiers above the Scotch, it gives yet so
lovely and so manifestly superior a character to the Scotch commander
above the English." See _Say's Essay on the Numbers of Paradise
Lost_, 4to. 1745, p. 167.
This appears to me a groundless conjecture: the language seems too
modern for the date above-mentioned; and, had it been printed even so
early as Queen Elizabeth's reign, I think I should have met with some
copy wherein the first line would have been,
"God prosper long our noble queen,"
as was the case with the _Blind Beggar of Bednal Green_; see vol. ii.
book ii. No. x. ver. 23.
[895] In the _Spectator_, Nos. 70, 74.
[896] [Ver. 3. there was, f. MS.]
[897] [V. 6. took the way, f. MS.]
[898] Ver. 36. That they were, f. MS.
[899] The Chiviot Hills and circumjacent wastes are at present void
of deer, and almost stript of their woods: but formerly they had
enough of both to justify the description attempted here and in the
Ancient Ballad of _Chevy-Chase_. Leland, in the reign of Hen. VIII.
thus describes this county: "In Northumberland, as I heare say, be no
Forests, except Chivet Hills; where is much _Brushe-Wood_, and some
_Okke_; Grownde ovargrowne with Linge, and some with Mosse. I have
harde say that Chivet Hilles stretchethe xx miles. There is greate
Plenté of _Redde-Dere_, and _Roo-Bukkes_." _Itin._ vol. vii. page
56.--This passage, which did not occur when pages 40, 42 were printed
off, confirms the accounts there given of the _Stagge_ and the _Roe_.
[900] [slaughtered game.]
[901] [Ver. 42. the tender deere, f. MS.]
[902] [fortune.]
[903] [Ver. 92. it is, f. MS.]
[904] [V. 98. I stand, f. MS.]
[905] [Ver. 105. bend their bowes, f. MS.]
[906] The 4 stanzas here inclosed in brackets, which are borrowed
chiefly from the ancient copy, are offered to the reader instead of the
following lines, which occur in the Editor's folio MS.
To drive the deere with hound and horne,
Douglas bade on the bent;
Two captaines moved with mickle might
Their speres to shivers went.
[907] [field.]
[908] [Ver. 129-132. This stanza in the MS. is far superior to the poor
one in the text.
"O Christ! it was great greeve to see
how eche man chose his spere
and how the blood out of their brests
Did gush like water cleare."]
[909] [furious.]
[910] [Ver. 155. who scorke Erle Douglas on the brest, f. MS.]
[911] [V. 157. who never sayd, f. MS.]
[912] [V. 163. who said, Erle Dowglas, for thy sake, f. MS.]
[913] [Ver. 189. he had a good bow in his hand, f. MS.]
[914] [V. 192. to the hard head haled hee, f. MS.]
[915] Sc. the Curfew bell, usually rung at 8 o'clock, to which the
moderniser apparently alludes, instead of the "Evensong Bell," or Bell
for vespers, of the original author before the Reformation. See p. 31,
Ver. 97.
[916] For the surnames, see the Notes at the end of the ballad.
[917] [Ver. 203. Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William, f. MS.]
[918] _i.e._ "I, as one in deep concern, must lament" The construction
here has generally been misunderstood. The old MS. reads "toofull
dumpes."
[919] [V. 215. Sir Charles Morrell, f. MS.]
[920] [V. 217. Sir Roger Hever, of Harclifte, f. MS.]
[921] [V. 219. Sir David Lambwell well esteem'd.]
[922] [Ver. 233. purple blood, f. MS.]
[923] [Ver. 262. hundreds dye, f. MS.]
[924] See note controverting the above on p. 52.
II.
DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.
These fine moral stanzas were originally intended for a solemn
funeral song, in a play of James Shirley's, intitled, "The Contention
of Ajax and Ulysses:"[925] no date, 8vo.--Shirley flourished as a
dramatic writer early in the reign of Charles I.: but he outlived the
Restoration. His death happened October 29, 1666. Æt. 72.
This little poem was written long after many of these that follow, but
is inserted here as a kind of Dirge to the foregoing piece. It is said
to have been a favourite song with K. Charles II. [to whom, according
to Oldys, it was often sung by "old" Bowman.]
* * * * *
The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate:
Death lays his icy hands on kings:
Scepter and crown 5
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill: 10
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still.
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath, 15
When they pale captives creep to death.
The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death's purple altar now
See where the victor victim bleeds: 20
All heads must come
To the cold tomb,
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.
FOOTNOTES:
[925] Acted for the first time "at the Military Ground in Leicester
Fields" in 1659.
III.
THE RISING IN THE NORTH.
The subject of this ballad is the great Northern Insurrection in the
12th year of Elizabeth, 1569; which proved so fatal to Thomas Percy,
the seventh Earl of Northumberland.
There had not long before been a secret negotiation entered into
between some of the Scottish and English nobility, to bring about a
marriage between Mary Q. of Scots, at that time a prisoner in England,
and the Duke of Norfolk, a nobleman of excellent character, and firmly
attached to the Protestant religion. This match was proposed to all the
most considerable of the English nobility, and among the rest to the
Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, two noblemen very powerful
in the North. As it seemed to promise a speedy and safe conclusion of
the troubles in Scotland, with many advantages to the crown of England,
they all consented to it, provided it should prove agreeable to Q.
Elizabeth. The Earl of Leicester (Elizabeth's favourite) undertook to
break the matter to her, but before he could find an opportunity, the
affair had come to her ears by other hands, and she was thrown into a
violent flame. The Duke of Norfolk, with several of his friends, was
committed to the Tower, and summons were sent to the Northern Earls
instantly to make their appearance at court. It is said that the Earl
of Northumberland, who was a man of a mild and gentle nature, was
deliberating with himself whether he should not obey the message, and
rely upon the queen's candour and clemency, when he was forced into
desperate measures by a sudden report at midnight, Nov. 14, that a
party of his enemies were come to seize on his person.[926] The Earl
was then at his house at Topcliffe in Yorkshire. When rising hastily
out of bed, he withdrew to the Earl of Westmoreland, at Brancepeth,
where the country came in to them, and pressed them to take arms in
their own defence. They accordingly set up their standards, declaring
their intent was to restore the ancient religion, to get the succession
of the crown firmly settled, and to prevent the destruction of the
ancient nobility, &c. Their common banner[927] (on which was displayed
the cross, together with the five wounds of Christ) was borne by an
ancient gentleman, Richard Norton, Esq., of Norton-conyers; who,
with his sons (among whom, Christopher, Marmaduke, and Thomas, are
expressly named by Camden), distinguished himself on this occasion.
Having entered Durham, they tore the Bible, &c., and caused mass to
be said there: they then marched on to Clifford-moor near Wetherbye,
where they mustered their men. Their intention was to have proceeded on
to York, but, altering their minds, they fell upon Barnard's castle,
which Sir George Bowes held out against them for eleven days. The two
earls, who spent their large estates in hospitality, and were extremely
beloved on that account, were masters of little ready money; the E.
of Northumberland bringing with him only 8000 crowns, and the E. of
Westmoreland nothing at all for the subsistence of their forces, they
were not able to march to London, as they had at first intended. In
these circumstances, Westmoreland began so visibly to despond, that
many of his men slunk away, tho' Northumberland still kept up his
resolution, and was master of the field till December 13, when the Earl
of Sussex, accompanied with Lord Hunsden and others, having marched out
of York at the head of a large body of forces, and being followed by a
still larger army under the command of Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick,
the insurgents retreated northward towards the borders, and there
dismissing their followers, made their escape into Scotland. Tho' this
insurrection had been suppressed with so little bloodshed, the Earl of
Sussex and Sir George Bowes, marshal of the army, put vast numbers to
death by martial law, without any regular trial. The former of these
caused sixty-three constables to be hanged at once. And the latter
made his boast, that, for sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth,
betwixt Newcastle and Wetherby, there was hardly a town or village
wherein he had not executed some of the inhabitants. This exceeds the
cruelties practised in the West after Monmouth's rebellion: but that
was not the age of tenderness and humanity.
Such is the account collected from Stow, Speed, Camden, Guthrie, Carte,
and Rapin; it agrees in most particulars with the following ballad,
which was apparently the production of some northern minstrel, who was
well affected to the two noblemen. It is here printed from two MS.
copies, one of them in the Editor's folio collection. They contained
considerable variations, out of which such readings were chosen as
seemed most poetical and consonant to history.
* * * * *
[The Northern Rebellion of 1569 has been nobly commemorated in
verse. Besides the two following ballads there is the one entitled
the _Earle of Westmorlande_, in the folio MS. which was printed
for the first time in 1867, and also Wordsworth's matchless poem
of the _White Doe of Rylstone_. Those readers who wish for further
particulars respecting this ill-starred insurrection, should see
Mr. Hales's interesting introduction to the _Earl of Westmoreland_
(Folio MS., ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. i. p. 292).
Percy acknowledges above that he has not followed the folio MS.
very closely, and his variations will be seen by comparing his
version with the copy now printed at the end.]
* * * * *
Listen, lively lordings all,
Lithe and listen unto mee,
And I will sing of a noble earle,
The noblest earle in the north countrie.
Earle Percy is into his garden gone, 5
And after him walkes his faire ladìe:[928]
I heard a bird sing in mine eare,
That I must either fight, or flee.
Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord,
That ever such harm should hap to thee: 10
But goe to London to the court,
And faire fall truth and honestìe.
Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay,
Alas! thy counsell suits not mee;
Mine enemies prevail so fast, 15
That at the court I may not bee.
O goe to the court yet, good my lord,
And take thy gallant men with thee:
If any dare to doe you wrong,
Then your warrant they may bee. 20
Now nay, now nay, thou lady faire,
The court is full of subtiltìe;
And if I goe to the court, lady,
Never more I may thee see.
Yet goe to the court, my lord, she sayes, 25
And I myselfe will ryde wi' thee:
At court then for my dearest lord,
His faithfull borrowe[929] I will bee
Now nay, now nay, my lady deare;
Far lever[930] had I lose my life, 30
Than leave among my cruell foes
My love in jeopardy and strife.
But come thou hither, my little foot-page,
Come thou hither unto mee,
To maister Norton thou must goe 35
In all the haste that ever may bee.
Commend me to that gentlemàn,
And beare this letter here fro mee;
And say that earnestly I praye,
He will ryde in my companìe. 40
One while the little foot-page went,
And another while he ran;
Untill he came to his journeys end,
The little foot-page never blan.[931]
When to that gentleman he came, 45
Down he kneeled on his knee;
And tooke the letter betwixt his hands,
And lett the gentleman it see.
And when the letter it was redd
Affore that goodlye companye, 50
I wis, if you the truthe wold know,
There was many a weeping eye.
He sayd, Come thither, Christopher Norton,
A gallant youth thou seemst to bee;
What doest thou counsell me, my sonne, 55
Now that good erle's in jeopardy?
Father, my counselle's fair and free;
That erle he is a noble lord,
And whatsoever to him you hight,
I wold not have you breake your word. 60
Gramercy, Christopher, my sonne,
Thy counsell well it liketh mee,
And if we speed and scape with life,
Well advanced shalt thou bee.
Come you hither, my nine good sonnes,[932] 65
Gallant men I trowe you bee:
How many of you, my children deare,
Will stand by that good erle and mee?
Eight of them did answer make,
Eight of them spake hastilie, 70
O father, till the daye we dye
We'll stand by that good erle and thee.
Gramercy now, my children deare,
You showe yourselves right bold and brave;
And whethersoe'er I live or dye, 75
A fathers blessing you shal have.
But what sayst thou, O Francis Norton,
Thou art mine eldest sonn and heire:
Somewhat lyes brooding in thy breast;
Whatever it bee, to mee declare. 80
Father, you are an aged man,
Your head is white, your bearde is gray;
It were a shame at these your yeares
For you to ryse in such a fray.
Now fye upon thee, coward Francis, 85
Thou never learnedst this of mee:
When thou wert yong and tender of age,
Why did I make soe much of thee?
But, father, I will wend with you,
Unarm'd and naked will I bee; 90
And he that strikes against the crowne,
Ever an ill death may he dee.
Then rose that reverend gentleman,
And with him came a goodlye band
To join with the brave Erle Percy, 95
And all the flower o' Northumberland.
With them the noble Nevill came,
The erle of Westmorland was hee:
At Wetherbye they mustred their host,
Thirteen thousand faire to see. 100
Lord Westmorland his ancyent[933] raisde,
The Dun Bull he rays'd on hye,
And three Dogs with golden collars
Were there sett out most royallye.[934]
Erle Percy there his ancyent spred, 105
The Halfe-Moone shining all soe faire:[935]
The Nortons ancyent had the crosse,
And the five wounds our Lord did beare.
Then Sir George Bowes he straitwaye rose,
After them some spoyle to make: 110
Those noble erles turn'd backe againe,
And aye they vowed that knight to take.
The baron he to his castle fled,
To Barnard castle then fled hee.
The uttermost walles were eathe[936] to win, 115
The earles have wonne them presentlie.
The uttermost walles were lime and bricke;
But thoughe they won them soon anone,
Long e'er they wan the innermost walles,
For they were cut in rocke of stone. 120
Then newes unto leeve[937] London came
In all the speede that ever might bee,
And word is brought to our royall queene
Of the rysing in the North countrie.
Her grace she turned her round about, 125
And like a royall queene shee swore,[938]
I will ordayne them such a breakfast,
As never was in the North before.
Shee caus'd thirty thousand men berays'd,
With horse and harneis[939] faire to see; 130
She caused thirty thousand men be raised,
To take the earles i'th' North countrie.
Wi' them the false Erle Warwick went,
Th' erle Sussex and the lord Hunsdèn;
Untill they to Yorke castle came 135
I wiss, they never stint ne blan.[940]
Now spred thy ancyent, Westmorland,
Thy dun bull faine would we spye:
And thou, the Erle o' Northumberland,
Now rayse thy half moone up on hye. 140
But the dun bulle is fled and gone,
And the halfe moone vanished away:
The Erles, though they were brave and bold,
Against soe many could not stay.
Thee, Norton, wi' thine eight good sonnes, 145
They doom'd to dye, alas! for ruth!
Thy reverend lockes thee could not save,
Nor them their faire and blooming youthe.
Wi' them full many a gallant wight
They cruellye bereav'd of life: 150
And many a childe made fatherlesse,
And widowed many a tender wife.
[Illustration]
[The following version of this ballad is from the Folio MS (ed. Hales
and Furnivall, 1867, vol. ii. p. 210.)
Listen liuely lordings all,
and all that beene this place within!
if youle giue eare vnto my songe,
I will tell you how this geere did begin. 4
It was the good Erle of Westmorlande,
a noble Erle was called hee;
and he wrought treason against the crowne;
alas, itt was the more pittye! 8
and soe itt was the Erle of Northumberland,
another good Noble Erle was hee,
they tooken both vpon on part,
against their crowne they wolden bee. 12
Earle Pearcy is into his garden gone,
and after walks his awne ladye;
"I heare a bird sing in my eare
that I must either ffight or fflee." 16
"God fforbidd," shee sayd, "good my Lord,
that euer soe that it shalbee!
but goe to London to the court,
and faire ffall truth and honestye!" 20
"but nay, now nay, my Ladye gay,
that euer it shold soe bee;
my treason is knowen well enoughe;
att the court I must not bee." 24
"but goe to the Court! yet, good my Lord,
take men enowe with thee;
if any man will doe you wronge,
your warrant they may bee." 28
"but nay, now nay, my Lady gay,
for soe itt must not bee;
If I goe to the court, Ladye,
death will strike me, and I must dye." 32
"but goe to the Court! yett, [good] my Lord,
I my-selfe will ryde with thee;
if any man will doe you wronge,
your borrow I shalbee." 36
"but nay, now nay, my Lady gay,
for soe it must not bee;
for if I goe to the Court, Ladye,
thou must me neuer see. 40
"but come hither, thou litle footpage,
come thou hither vnto mee,
for thou shalt goe a Message to Master Norton
in all the hast that euer may bee: 44
"comend me to that gentleman;
bring him here this letter from mee,
and say, 'I pray him earnestlye
that hee will ryde in my companye.'" 48
but one while the foote page went,
another while he rann;
vntill he came to Master Norton,
the ffoot page neuer blanne; 52
and when he came to Master Nortton
he kneeled on his knee,
and tooke the letter betwixt his hands,
and lett the gentleman it see. 56
and when the letter itt was reade
affore all his companye,
I-wis, if you wold know the truth,
there was many a weeping eye. 60
he said, "come hither, Kester Nortton,
a ffine ffellow thou seemes to bee;
some good councell, Kester Nortton,
this day doe thou giue to mee." 64
"Marry, Ile giue you councell, ffather,
if youle take councell att me,
that if you haue spoken the word, father,
that backe againe you doe not flee." 68
"god amercy, Christopher Nortton,
I say, god amercye!
if I doe liue and scape with liffe,
well advanced shalt thou bee; 72
"but come you hither, my nine good sonnes,
in mens estate I thinke you bee;
how many of you, my children deare,
on my part that wilbe?" 76
but eight of them did answer soone,
and spake ffull hastilye,
sayes "we willbe on your part, ffather,
till the day that we doe dye." 80
"but god amercy, my children deare,
and euer I say god amercy!
and yett my blessing you shall have,
whether-so euer I liue or dye. 84
"but what sayst thou, thou ffrancis Nortton,
mine eldest sonne and mine heyre trulye?
some good councell, ffrancis Nortton,
this day thou giue to me." 88
"but I will giue you councell, ffather,
if you will take councell att mee;
for if you wold take my councell, father,
against the crowne you shold not bee." 92
"but ffye vpon thee, ffrancis Nortton!
I say ffye vpon thee!
when thou was younge and tender of age
I made ffull much of thee." 96
"but your head is white, ffather," he sayes,
"and your beard is wonderous gray;
itt were shame ffor your countrye
if you shold rise and fflee away." 100
"but ffye vpon thee, thou coward ffrancis!
thou neuer tookest that of mee!
when thou was younge and tender of age
I made too much of thee." 104
"but I will goe with you, father," Quoth hee;
"like a naked man will I bee;
he that strikes the first stroake against the crowne,
an ill death may hee dye!" 108
but then rose vpp Master Nortton that Esquier
with him a ffull great companye;
and then the Erles they comen downe
to ryde in his companye. 112
att whethersbye thé mustered their men
vpon a ffull fayre day;
13000 there were seene
to stand in battel ray. 116
the Erle of Westmoreland, he had in his ancyent
the Dume bull in sight most hye,
and 3 doggs with golden collers
were sett out royallye. 120
the Erle of Northumberland, he had in his ancyent
the halfe moone in sight soe hye,
as the Lord was crucifyed on the crosse,
and sett forthe pleasantlye. 124
and after them did rise good Sir George Bowes,
after them a spoyle to make;
the Erles returned backe againe,
thought euer that Knight to take 128
this Barron did take a Castle then,
was made of lime and stone;
the vttermost walls were ese to be woon;
the Erles haue woon them anon; 132
but tho they woone the vttermost walls
quickly and anon,
the innermost walles thé cold not winn,
thé were made of a rocke of stone. 136
but newes itt came to leeue London
in all they speede that euer might bee;
and word it came to our royall Queene
of all the rebells in the north countrye. 140
shee turned her grace then once about,
and like a royall Queene shee sware,
sayes, "I will ordaine them such a breake-fast
as was not in the North this 1000 yeere!" 144
shee caused 30000 men to be made
with horsse and harneis all quicklye;
and shee caused 30000 men to be made
to take the rebells in the North countrye. 148
they took with them the false Erle of Warwicke,
soe did they many another man;
vntill they came to yorke Castle,
I-wis they neuer stinted nor blan. 152
"spread thy ancyent, Erle of Westmoreland!
The halfe moone ffaine wold wee see!"
but the halfe moone is fled and gone,
and the Dun bull vanished awaye; 156
and ffrancis Nortton and his 8 sonnes
are ffled away most cowardlye.
Ladds with mony are counted men
men without mony are counted none; 160
but hold your tounge! why say you soe?
men wilbe men when mony is gone.
ffins.]
FOOTNOTES:
[926] This circumstance is overlooked in the ballad.
[927] Besides this, the ballad mentions the separate banners of the two
noblemen.
[928] This lady was Anne, daughter of Henry Somerset, E. of Worcester.
[929] [surety.]
[930] [rather.]
[931] [lingered.]
[932] ["The Act of Attainder 13th Elizabeth, only mentions Richard
Norton, the father and _seven_ sons, and in 'a list of the rebels in
the late northern rebellion, that are fled beyond the seas,' the same
seven sons are named. Richard Norton, the father, was living long after
the rebellion in Spanish Flanders. See Sharp's _Bishoprick Garland_, p.
10."--Child's Eng. and Scot. Ballads, Vol. 7, p. 87 (note).]
[933] [standard.]
[934] [Ver. 102. _Dun Bull, &c._] The supporters of the _Nevilles_,
Earls of Westmoreland, were Two Bulls Argent, ducally collar'd Gold,
armed Or, &c. But I have not discovered the device mentioned in the
ballad, among the badges, &c. given by that house. This, however, is
certain, that among those of the _Nevilles_, Lords Abergavenny (who
were of the same family) is a _Dun Cow_ with a golden Collar: and the
_Nevilles_ of Chyte in Yorkshire (of the Westmoreland branch) gave
for their crest, in 1513, a _Dog's_ (Greyhound's) Head erased. So
that it is not improbable but _Charles Neville_, the unhappy Earl
of Westmoreland here mentioned, might on this occasion give the above
device on his banner. After all our old minstrel's verses here may have
undergone some corruption; for, in another Ballad in the same folio
MS. and apparently written by the same hand, containing the sequel of
this Lord Westmoreland's history, his banner is thus described, more
conformable to his known bearings:
"Sett me up my faire Dun Bull,
With Gilden Hornes, hee beares all soe hye."
[935] [Ver. 106. _The Half-Moone, &c._] The _Silver Crescent_ is a
well-known crest or badge of the Northumberland family. It was probably
brought home from some of the Cruzades against the Sarazens. In an
ancient Pedigree in verse, finely illuminated on a roll of vellum, and
written in the reign of Henry VII. (in possession of the family) we
have this fabulous account given of its original. The author begins
with accounting for the name of _Gernon_ or _Algernon_, often born by
the _Percies_; who, he says, were
"... Gernons fyrst named of Brutys bloude of Troy:
Which valliantly fyghtynge in the land of Persè [_Persia_]
At pointe terrible ayance the miscreants on nyght,
An hevynly mystery was schewyd hym, old bookys reherse;
In hys scheld did schyne a _Mone_ veryfying her lyght,
Which to all the ooste yave a perfytte fyght,
To vaynquys his enemys, and to deth them persue;
And therefore the _Persès_ [Percies] the Cressant doth renew."
In the dark ages no family was deemed considerable that did not derive
its descent from the Trojan Brutus; or that was not distinguished by
prodigies and miracles.
[936] [easy.]
[937] [dear.]
[938] This is quite in character: her majesty would sometimes swear at
her nobles, as well as box their ears.
[939] [armour.]
[940] [lingered.]
[Illustration]
IV.
NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS.
This ballad may be considered as the sequel of the preceding. After
the unfortunate Earl of Northumberland had seen himself forsaken of
his followers, he endeavoured to withdraw into Scotland, but falling
into the hands of the thievish borderers, was stript and otherwise
ill-treated by them. At length he reached the house of Hector, of
Harlaw, an Armstrong, with whom he hoped to lie concealed: for,
Hector had engaged his honour to be true to him, and was under great
obligations to this unhappy nobleman. But this faithless wretch
betrayed his guest for a sum of money to Murray the Regent of Scotland,
who sent him to the castle of Lough-leven, then belonging to William
Douglas. All the writers of that time assure us that Hector, who was
rich before, fell shortly after into poverty, and became so infamous,
that _to take Hector's cloak_, grew into a proverb to express a man who
betrays his friend. See Camden, Carleton, Holinshed, &c.
Lord Northumberland continued in the castle of Lough-leven till the
year 1572; when James Douglas, Earl of Morton, being elected Regent, he
was given up to the Lord Hunsden at Berwick, and being carried to York
suffered death. As Morton's party depended on Elizabeth for protection,
an elegant historian thinks "it was scarce possible for them to refuse
putting into her hands a person who had taken up arms against her.
But, as a sum of money was paid on that account, and shared between
Morton and his kinsman Douglas, the former of whom, during his exile
in England, had been much indebted to Northumberland's friendship, the
abandoning this unhappy nobleman to inevitable destruction was deemed
an ungrateful and mercenary act." Robertson's Hist.
So far history coincides with this ballad, which was apparently written
by some Northern bard soon after the event. The interposal of the
_witch-lady_ (v. 53) is probably his own invention: yet, even this hath
some countenance from history; for about 25 years before, the Lady Jane
Douglas, Lady Glamis, sister of the earl of Angus, and nearly related
to Douglas of Lough-leven, had suffered death for the pretended crime
of witchcraft; who, it is presumed, is the Witch-lady alluded to in
verse 133.
The following is selected (like the former) from two copies, which
contained great variations; one of them in the Editor's folio MS. In
the other copy some of the stanzas at the beginning of this Ballad are
nearly the same with what in that MS. are made to begin another Ballad
on the escape of the E. of Westmoreland, who got safe into Flanders,
and is feigned in the ballad to have undergone a great variety of
adventures.
* * * * *
[Percy wrote the following note on the version of this ballad in
his folio MS. "To correct this by my other copy which seems more
modern. The other copy in many parts preferable to this." It will
be seen by comparing the text with the folio MS. copy, now printed
at the end, that the alterations are numerous. The first three
stanzas are taken with certain changes from the ballad of "The Erle
of Westmoreland" (Folio MS. vol. i. p. 300). The alterations made
in them are not improvements, as, for instance, the old reading of
verse 2 is--
"And keepe me heare in deadlye feare,"
which is preferable to the line below--
"And harrowe me with fear and dread."]
* * * * *
How long shall fortune faile me nowe,
And harrowe[941] me with fear and dread?
How long shall I in bale[942] abide,
In misery my life to lead?
To fall from my bliss, alas the while! 5
It was my sore and heavye lott:
And I must leave my native land,
And I must live a man forgot.
One gentle Armstrong I doe ken,
A Scot he is much bound to mee: 10
He dwelleth on the border side,
To him I'll goe right privilìe.
Thus did the noble Percy 'plaine,
With a heavy heart and wel-away,
When he with all his gallant men 15
On Bramham moor had lost the day.
But when he to the Armstrongs came,
They dealt with him all treacherouslye;
For they did strip that noble earle:
And ever an ill death may they dye. 20
False Hector to Earl Murray sent,
To shew him where his guest did hide:
Who sent him to the Lough-levèn,
With William Douglas to abide.
And when he to the Douglas came, 25
He halched[943] him right curteouslie:
Say'd, Welcome, welcome, noble earle,
Here thou shalt safelye bide with mee.
When he had in Lough-leven been
Many a month and many a day; 30
To the regent[944] the lord warden[945] sent,
That bannisht earle for to betray.
He offered him great store of gold,
And wrote a letter fair to see:
Saying, Good my lord, grant me my boon, 35
And yield that banisht man to mee.
Earle Percy at the supper sate
With many a goodly gentleman:
The wylie Douglas then bespake,
And thus to flyte[946] with him began: 40
What makes you be so sad, my lord,
And in your mind so sorrowfullyè?
To-morrow a shootinge will bee held
Among the lords of the North countryè.
The butts are sett, the shooting's made, 45
And there will be great royaltye:
And I am sworne into my bille,[947]
Thither to bring my lord Percye.
I'll give thee my hand, thou gentle Douglas,
And here by my true faith, quoth hee, 50
If thou wilt ryde to the worldes end,
I will ryde in thy companye.
And then bespake a lady faire,
Mary à Douglas was her name:
You shall byde here, good English lord, 55
My brother is a traiterous man.
He is a traitor stout and stronge,
As I tell you in privitie:
For he hath tane liverance[948] of the erle,[949]
Into England nowe to 'liver thee. 60
Now nay, now nay, thou goodly lady,
The regent is a noble lord:
Ne for the gold in all Englànd,
The Douglas wold not break his word
When the regent was a banisht man, 65
With me he did faire welcome find;
And whether weal or woe betide,
I still shall find him true and kind.
Betweene England and Scotland it wold breake truce,
And friends againe they wold never bee, 70
If they shold 'liver a banisht erle
Was driven out of his own countrie.
Alas! alas! my lord, she sayes,
Nowe mickle is their traitorie;
Then lett my brother ryde his wayes, 75
And tell those English lords from thee,
How that you cannot with him ryde,
Because you are in an ile of the sea,[950]
Then ere my brother come againe
To Edenborow castle[951] Ile carry thee. 80
To the Lord Hume I will thee bring,
He is well knowne a true Scots lord,
And he will lose both land and life,
Ere he with thee will break his word.
Much is my woe, Lord Percy sayd, 85
When I thinkie on my own countrie,
When I thinke on the heavye happe[952]
My friends have suffered there for mee.
Much is my woe, Lord Percy sayd,
And sore those wars my minde distresse; 90
Where many a widow lost her mate,
And many a child was fatherlesse.
And now that I a banisht man,
Shold bring such evil happe with mee,
To cause my faire and noble friends 95
To be suspect of treacherie:
This rives[953] my heart with double woe;
And lever had I dye this day,
Than thinke a Douglas can be false,
Or ever he will his guest betray. 100
If you'll give me no trust, my lord,
Nor unto mee no credence yield;
Yet step one moment here aside,
Ile showe you all your foes in field.
Lady, I never loved witchcraft, 105
Never dealt in privy wyle;
But evermore held the high-waye
Of truth and honour, free from guile
If you'll not come yourselfe my lorde,
Yet send your chamberlaine with mee; 110
Let me but speak three words with him,
And he shall come again to thee.
James Swynard with that lady went,
She showed him through the weme[954] of her ring
How many English lords there were 115
Waiting for his master and him.
And who walkes yonder, my good lady,
So royallyè on yonder greene?
O yonder is the lord Hunsdèn:[955]
Alas! he'll doe you drie and teene.[956] 120
And who beth yonder, thou gay ladye,
That walkes so proudly him beside?
That is Sir William Drury,[957] shee sayd,
A keene captàine hee is and tryde.
How many miles is itt, madàme, 125
Betwixt yond English lords and mee?
Marry it is thrice fifty miles,
To saile to them upon the sea.
I never was on English ground,
Ne never sawe it with mine eye, 130
But as my book it sheweth mee,
And through my ring I may descrye.
My mother shee was a witch ladye,
And of her skille she learned[958] mee;
She wold let me see out of Lough-leven 135
What they did in London citìe.
But who is yond, thou lady faire,
That looketh with sic an austerne[959] face?
Yonder is Sir John Foster,[960] quoth shee,
Alas! he'll do ye sore disgrace. 140
He pulled his hatt down over his browe;
He wept; in his heart he was full of woe:
And he is gone to his noble Lord,
Those sorrowful tidings him to show.
Now nay, now nay, good James Swynàrd, 145
I may not believe that witch ladìe:
The Douglasses were ever true,
And they can ne'er prove false to mee.
I have now in Lough-leven been
The most part of these years three, 150
Yett have I never had noe outrake,[961]
Ne no good games that I cold see.
Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend,
As to the Douglas I have hight:[962]
Betide me weale, betide me woe, 155
He ne'er shall find my promise light.
He writhe[963] a gold ring from his finger,
And gave itt to that gay ladìe:
Sayes, It was all that I cold save,
In Harley woods where I cold bee.[964] 160
And wilt thou goe, thou noble lord,
Then farewell truth and honestìe;
And farewell heart and farewell hand;
For never more I shall thee see.
The wind was faire, the boatmen call'd, 165
And all the saylors were on borde;
Then William Douglas took to his boat,
And with him went that noble lord.
Then he cast up a silver wand,
Says, Gentle lady, fare thee well! 170
The lady fett[965] a sigh soe deep,
And in a dead swoone down shee fell.
Now let us goe back, Douglas, he sayd,
A sickness hath taken yond faire ladìe;
If ought befall yond lady but good, 175
Then blamed for ever I shall bee.
Come on, come on, my lord, he sayes;
Come on, come on, and let her bee:
There's ladyes enow in Lough-leven
For to cheere that gay ladìe. 180
If you'll not turne yourself, my lord,
Let me goe with my chamberlaine;
We will but comfort that faire lady,
And wee will return to you againe.
Come on, come on, my lord, he sayes, 185
Come on, come on, and let her bee:
My sister is craftye, and wold beguile
A thousand such as you and mee.
When they had sayled[966] fifty myle,
Now fifty mile upon the sea; 190
Hee sent his man to ask the Douglas,
When they shold that shooting see.
Faire words, quoth he, they make fooles faine,[967]
And that by thee and thy lord is seen:
You may hap[968] to thinke itt soone enough, 195
Ere you that shooting reach, I ween.
Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe,
He thought his lord then was betray'd;
And he is to Erle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd. 200
Hold upp thy head, man, quoth his lord;
Nor therefore lett thy courage fayle,
He did it but to prove thy heart,
To see if he cold make it quail.
When they had other fifty sayld, 205
Other fifty mile upon the sea,
Lord Percy called to Douglas himselfe,
Sayd, What wilt thou nowe doe with mee?
Looke that your brydle be wight,[969] my lord,
And your horse goe swift as shipp att sea: 210
Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,
That you may pricke her while she'll away.
What needeth this, Douglas, he sayth;
What needest thou to flyte[970] with mee?
For I was counted a horseman good 215
Before that ever I mett with thee.
A false Hector hath my horse,
Who dealt with mee so treacherouslìe:
A false Armstrong hath my spurres,
And all the geere belongs to mee. 220
When they had sayled other fifty mile,
Other fifty mile upon the sea;
They landed low by Berwicke side,
A deputed 'laird' landed Lord Percye.[971]
Then he at Yorke was doomde to dye, 225
It was, alas! a sorrowful sight:
Thus they betrayed that noble earle,
Who ever was a gallant wight.
[Illustration]
[The following version of the Betrayal of Northumberland is from
the Folio MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 218.)
Now list and lithe you gentlemen,
and Ist tell you the veretye,
how they haue delt with a banished man,
driuen out of his countrye. 4
when as hee came on Scottish ground
as woe and wonder be them amonge,
ffull much was there traitorye
thé wrought the Erle of Northumberland. 8
when they were att the supper sett,
beffore many goodly gentlemen
thé ffell a fflouting and mocking both,
and said to the Erle of Northumberland, 12
"What makes you be soe sad, my Lord,
and in your mind soe sorrowffullye?
in the North of Scotland to-morrow theres a shooting,
and thither thoust goe, my Lord Percye. 16
"the buttes are sett, and the shooting is made,
and there is like to be great royaltye,
and I am sworne into my bill
thither to bring my Lord Pearcy." 20
"Ile giue thee my land, Douglas," he sayes,
"and be the faith in my bodye,
if that thou wilt ryde to the worlds end,
Ile ryde in thy companye." 24
and then bespake the good Ladye,--
Marry a Douglas was her name,--
"you shall byde here, good English Lord;
my brother is a traiterous man; 28
"he is a traitor stout and stronge,
as Ist tell you the veretye,
for he hath tane liuerance of the Erle,
and into England he will liuor thee." 32
"Now hold thy tounge, thou goodlye Ladye,
and let all this talking bee;
ffor all the gold thats in Loug Leuen,
william wold not Liuor mee! 36
"it wold breake truce betweene England & Scottland,
and friends againe they wold neuer bee
if he shold liuor a bani[s]ht Erle
was driuen out of his owne countrye." 40
"hold your tounge, my Lord," shee sayes,
"there is much ffalsehood them amonge;
when you are dead, then they are done,
soone they will part them friends againe. 44
"if you will giue me any trust, my Lord,
Ile tell you how you best may bee;
youst lett my brother ryde his wayes,
and tell those English Lords trulye 48
"how that you cannot with them ryde
because you are in an Ile of the sea,
then, ere my Brother come againe,
to Edenborrow castle Ile carry thee, 52
"Ile liuor you vnto the Lord Hume,
and you know a trew Scothe Lord is hee,
for he hath lost both Land and goods
in ayding of your good bodye." 56
"Marry! I am woe! woman," he sayes,
"that any freind fares worse for mee;
for where one saith 'it is a true tale,'
then two will say it is a Lye. 60
"when I was att home in my [realme]
amonge my tennants all trulye,
in my time of losse, wherin my need stoode,
they came to ayd me honestlye; 64
"therfore I left many a child ffatherlese,
and many a widdow to looke wanne;
and therfore blame nothing, Ladye,
but the woeffull warres which I began." 68
"If you will giue me noe trust, my Lord,
nor noe credence you will give mee,
and youle come hither to my right hand,
indeed, my Lord, Ile lett you see." 72
saies, "I neuer loued noe witchcraft,
nor neuer dealt with treacherye,
but euermore held the hye way;
alas! that may be seene by mee!" 76
"if you will not come your selfe, my Lord,
youle lett your chamberlaine goe with mee,
three words that I may to him speake,
and soone he shall come againe to thee." 80
when James Swynard came that Lady before,
shee let him see thorrow the weme of her ring
how many there was of English lords
to wayte there for his Master and him. 84
"but who beene yonder, my good Ladye,
that walkes soe royallye on yonder greene?"
"yonder is Lord Hunsden, Jamye," she saye;
"alas! heele doe you both tree and teene!" 88
"and who beene yonder, thou gay Ladye,
that walkes soe royallye him beside?"
"yond is Sir William Drurye, Jamy," shee sayd,
"and a keene Captain hee is, and tryde." 92
"how many miles is itt, thou good Ladye,
betwixt yond English Lord and mee?"
"marry thrise fifty mile, Jamy," shee sayd,
"and euen to seale and by the sea: 96
"I neuer was on English ground,
nor neuer see itt with mine eye,
but as my witt and wisedome serues,
and as [the] booke it telleth mee. 100
"my mother, shee was a witch woman,
and part of itt shee learned mee;
shee wold let me see out of Lough Leuen
what they dyd in London cytye." 104
"but who is yond, thou good Layde,
that comes yonder with an Osterne fface?"
"yonds Sir John fforster, Jamye," shee sayd;
"methinks thou sholdest better know him then I." 108
"Euen soe I doe, my goodlye Ladye,
and euer alas, soe woe am I!"
he pulled his hatt ouer his eyes,
and, lord, he wept soe tenderlye!
he is gone to his Master againe,
and euen to tell him the veretye.
"Now hast thou beene with Marry, Jamy," he sayd,
"Euen as thy tounge will tell to mee; 116
but if thou trust in any womans words,
thou must refraine good companye."
"It is noe words, my Lord," he sayes,
"yonder the men shee letts mee see, 120
how many English Lords there is
is wayting there for you and mee;
"yonder I see the Lord Hunsden,
and hee and you is of the third degree; 124
a greater enemye, indeed, my Lord,
in England none haue yee,"
"and I haue beene in Lough Leven
the most part of these yeeres three: 128
yett had I neuer noe out-rake,
nor good games that I cold see;
"and I am thus bidden to yonder shooting
by William Douglas all trulye; 132
therfore speake neuer a word out of thy mouth
That thou thinkes will hinder mee."
then he writhe the gold ring of his ffingar
and gaue itt to that Ladye gay; 136
sayes, "that was a Legacye left vnto mee
in Harley woods where I cold bee."
"then ffarewell hart, and farewell hand,
and ffarwell all good companye! 140
that woman shall neuer beare a sonne
shall know soe much of your privitye."
"now hold thy tounge, Ladye," hee sayde,
"and make not all this dole for mee, 144
for I may well drinke, but Ist neuer eate,
till againe in Lough Leuen I bee."
he tooke his boate att the Lough Leuen
for to sayle now ouer the sea, 148
and he hath cast vpp a siluer wand,
saies "fare thou well, my good Ladye!"
the Ladye looked ouer her left sholder;
in a dead swoone there fell shee. 152
"goe backe againe, Douglas!" he sayd,
"and I will goe in thy companye.
for sudden sicknesse yonder Lady has tane,
and euer, alas, shee will but dye! 156
"if ought come to yonder Ladye but good,
then blamed fore that I shall bee,
because a banished man I am,
and driuen out of my owne countrye." 160
"come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes,
"and lett all such talking bee;
theres Ladyes enow in Lough Leuen,
and for to cheere yonder gay Ladye." 164
"and you will not goe your selfe, my Lord,
you will lett my chamberlaine goe with me;
wee shall now take our boate againe,
and soone wee shall ouertake thee." 168
"come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes,
"and lett now all this talking bee!
ffor my sister is craftye enoughe
for to beguile thousands such as you and mee." 172
When they had sayled fifty myle,
now fifty mile vpon the sea,
hee had fforgotten a message that hee
shold doe in lough Leuen trulye: 176
hee asked 'how ffar it was to that shooting,
that William Douglas promised me.'
"now faire words makes fooles faine;
and that may be seene by thy Master and thee, 180
ffor you may happen think itt soone enoughe
when-euer you that shooting see."
Jamye pulled his hatt now ouer his browe;
I wott the teares fell in his eye; 184
and he is to his Master againe,
and ffor to tell him the veretye
he sayes, "fayre words makes fooles faine,
and that may be seene by you and mee, 188
ffor wee may happen thinke itt soone enoughe
when-euer wee that shooting see."
"hold vpp thy head, Jamye," the Erle sayd,
"and neuer lett thy hart fayle thee; 192
he did itt but to prove thee with,
and see how thow wold take with death trulye."
when they had sayled other fifty mile,
other fifty mile vpon the sea, 196
Lord Peercy called to him, himselfe,
and sayd, "Douglas what wilt thou doe with mee?"
"looke that your brydle be wight, my Lord,
that you may goe as a shipp att sea; 200
looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,
that you may pricke her while sheele awaye."
"what needeth this, Douglas," he sayth.
"that thou needest to ffloute mee? 204
for I was counted a horsseman good
before that euer I mett with thee.
"A ffalse Hector hath my horsse;
and euer an euill death may hee dye! 208
and Willye Armestronge hath my spurres
and all the geere belongs to mee."
when thé had sayled other fifty mile,
other fifty mile vpon the sea, 212
thé landed low by Barwicke side;
a deputed land Landed Lord Percye.
ffin[s]]
FOOTNOTES:
[941] [harass.]
[942] [evil.]
[943] [saluted.]
[944] James Douglas, Earl of Morton, elected regent of Scotland
November 24, 1572.
[945] Of one of the English marches. Lord Hunsden.
[946] [contend.]
[947] [sworn in writing.]
[948] [money for delivering you up.]
[949] Of the Earl of Morton, the Regent.
[950] _i. e._ Lake of Leven, which hath communication with the sea.
[951] At that time in the hands of the opposite faction.
[952] [fortune.]
[953] [rends.]
[954] [hollow.]
[955] The Lord Warden of the East marches.
[956] [ill and injury.]
[957] Governor of Berwick.
[958] [taught.]
[959] [austere.]
[960] Warden of the Middle-march.
[961] [an outride or expedition.]
[962] [promised.]
[963] [twisted.]
[964] _i. e._ Where I was. An ancient idiom.
[965] [fetched.]
[966] There is no navigable stream between Lough-Leven and the sea: but
a ballad-maker is not obliged to understand geography.
[967] [glad.]
[968] [chance.]
[969] [strong.]
[970] [contend.]
[971] Ver. 224. Fol. MS. reads _land_, and has not the following stanza.
V.
MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.
This excellent philosophical song appears to have been famous in the
sixteenth century. It is quoted by Ben Jonson in his play of _Every
Man out of his Humour_, first acted in 1599, act i. sc. 1, where an
impatient person says--
"I am no such pil'd cynique to believe
That beggery is the onely happinesse,
Or, with a number of these patient fooles,
To sing, 'My minde to me a kingdome is,'
When the lanke hungrie belly barkes for foode."
It is here chiefly printed from a thin quarto Music book, intitled,
"Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs of sadnes and pietie, made into Musicke
of five parts: &c. By William Byrd, one of the Gent. of the Queenes
Majesties honorable Chappell.--Printed by Thomas East, &c." 4to. no
date: but Ames in his _Typog._ has mentioned another edit. of the same
book, dated 1588, which I take to have been later than this.
Some improvements and an additional stanza (sc. the 5th), were had from
two other ancient copies; one of them in black letter in the Pepys
Collection, thus inscribed, "A sweet and pleasant sonet, intitled, 'My
Minde to me a Kingdom is.' To the tune of, In Crete, &c."
Some of the stanzas in this poem were printed by Byrd separate from the
rest: they are here given in what seemed the most natural order.
* * * * *
[The longest and apparently earliest version of this favourite poem
is signed "E. Dier," in MS. Rawl. Poet. 85, fol. 17 in the Bodleian
Library, and Dr. Hannah[972] attributes it to Sir Edward Dyer, the
friend of Spenser and Sidney, whose little pieces were chiefly
printed in _England's Helicon_. Sir Edward Dyer, of Sharpham Park,
Somersetshire, was born about the year 1540. He was educated at
Oxford, and afterwards was employed in several embassies. On the
death of Sir John Wolley he was made Chancellor of the Order of the
Garter, and at the same time knighted. He was an alchemist and dupe
of Dr. Dee and Edward Kelly. Sir Egerton Brydges quotes from Aubrey
the statement that he had four thousand pounds a year, and had
four-score thousand pounds left to him, which he wasted almost all,
but Sir Egerton considers the sums almost incredible for the time.
In "Posthumi or Sylvesters Remains, revived out of the ashes of
that silver-tongued translatour and divine Poet Laureat," at the
end of the translation of the _Divine Weekes_ of Du Bartas, 1641,
there is the following parody of this favourite poem:
"A CONTENTED MINDE.
"I waigh not Fortunes frowne or smile,
I joy not much in earthly joyes,
I seeke not state, I reake not stile,
I am not fond of fancies Toyes:
I rest so pleased with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.
"I quake not at the Thunders crack,
I tremble not at noise of warre,
I swound not at the newes of wrack,
I shrink not at a Blazing Starre;
I feare not losse, I hope not gaine;
I envie none, I none disdaine.
"I see ambition never pleas'd,
I see some Tantals starv'd in store,
I see golds dropsie seldome eas'd,
I see even Midas gape for more:
I neither want, nor yet abound,
Enough's a feast, content is crown'd.
"I faine not friendship where I hate,
I fawne not on the great (in show)
I prize, I praise a meane estate,
Neither too lofty nor too low:
This, this is all my choice, my cheere,
A minde content, a conscience cleere."]
* * * * *
My minde to me a kingdome is;
Such perfect joy therein I finde
As farre exceeds all earthly blisse,
That God or Nature hath assignde:
Though much I want, that most would have, 5
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.
Content I live, this is my stay;
I seek no more than may suffice:
I presse to beare no haughtie sway;
Look what I lack my mind supplies. 10
Loe! thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.
I see how plentie surfets oft,
And hastie clymbers soonest fall;
I see that such as sit aloft 15
Mishap doth threaten most of all:
These get with toile, and keep with feare:
Such cares my mind could never beare.
No princely pompe, nor welthie store,
No force to winne the victorie, 20
No wylie wit to salve a sore,
No shape to winne a lovers eye;
To none of these I yeeld as thrall,
For why my mind despiseth all.
Some have too much, yet still they crave, 25
I little have, yet seek no more:
They are but poore, tho' much they have;
And I am rich with little store:
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lacke, I lend; they pine, I live. 30
I laugh not at anothers losse,
I grudge not at anothers gaine;
No worldly wave my mind can tosse,
I brooke that is anothers bane:
I feare no foe, nor fawne on friend; 35
I lothe not life, nor dread mine end.
I joy not in no earthly blisse;
I weigh not Cresus' welth a straw;
For care, I care not what it is;
I feare not fortunes fatall law: 40
My mind is such as may not move
For beautie bright or force of love.
I wish but what I have at will;
I wander not to seeke for more,
I like the plaine, I clime no hill; 45
In greatest stormes I sitte on shore,
And laugh at them that toile in vaine
To get what must be lost againe.
I kisse not where I wish to kill;
I feigne not love where most I hate; 50
I breake no sleep to winne my will;
I wayte not at the mighties gate;
I scorne no poore, I feare no rich;
I feele no want, nor have too much.
The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath; 55
Extreames are counted worst of all:
The golden meane betwixt them both,
Doth surest sit, and fears no fall:
This is my choyce, for why I finde,
No wealth is like a quiet minde. 60