My goods, my livings, and my fee, 90
And charg'd that none should me relieve,
Nor any succour to me give.
Then unto Mistress Blague I went,
To whom my jewels I had sent,
In hope thereby to ease my want, 95
When riches fail'd, and love grew scant.
But she deny'd to me the same,
When in my need for them I came;
To recompence my former love,
Out of her doors she did me shove. 100
So love did vanish with my state,
Which now my soul repents too late;
Therefore example take by me,
For friendship parts in poverty.
But yet one friend among the rest, 105
Whom I before had seen distress'd,
And sav'd his life, condemn'd to dye,
Did give me food to succour me:
For which, by law it was decreed
That he was hanged for that deed; 110
His death did grieve me so much more,
Than had I dy'd myself therefore.
Then those to whom I had done good
Durst not afford mee any food;[L114]
Whereby in vain I begg'd all day, 115
And still in streets by night I lay.
My gowns beset with pearl and gold,
Were turn'd to simple garments old;
My chains and jems and golden rings,
To filthy rags and loathsome things. 120
Thus was I scorn'd of maid and wife,
For leading such a wicked life;
Both sucking babes and children small,
Did make a pastime at my fall.
I could not get one bit of bread, 125
Whereby my hunger might be fed:
Nor drink, but such as channels yield,
Or stinking ditches in the field.
Thus, weary of my life, at length
I yielded up my vital strength, 130
Within a ditch of loathsome scent,
Where carrion dogs do much frequent:
The which now since my dying day,
Is Shoreditch call'd, as writers say;[L134]
Which is a witness of my sin, 135
For being concubine to a king.
You wanton wives, that fall to lust,
Be you assur'd that God is just;
Whoredom shall not escape his hand,
Nor pride unpunish'd in this land. 140
If God to me such shame did bring,
That yielded only to a king,
How shall they scape that daily run
To practise sin with every man?
You husbands, match not but for love, 145
Lest some disliking after prove;
Women, be warn'd when you are wives,
What plagues are due to sinful lives:
Then, maids and wives, in time amend,
For love and beauty will have end.
56. upon.
81. rude.
114. restore.
134. But it had this name long before; being so called from its being a
common sewer (vulgarly shore) or drain.--PERCY.
A TRUE RELATION OE THE LIFE AND DEATH OF SIR ANDREW BARTON, A PYRATE
AND ROVER ON THE SEAS.
This copy of _Sir Andrew Barton_ is to be found in _Old Ballads_
(1723) vol. i. 159, Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 204, Moore's
_Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry_, p. 256, and _Early Naval
Ballads of England_, Percy Society, vol. ii. p. 4, with only
exceedingly trifling variations. We have followed the last, where the
ballad is given from a black-letter copy in the British Museum,
"printed by and for W. O., and sold by the booksellers."
When Flora with her fragrant flowers,
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gay,
And Neptune with his dainty showers,
Came to present the month of May,
King Henry would a-hunting ride; 5
Over the river Thames passed he,
Unto a mountain-top also
Did walk, some pleasure for to see.
Where forty merchants he espy'd,
With fifty sail came towards him, 10
Who then no sooner were arriv'd,
But on their knees did thus complain;
"An't please your grace, we cannot sail
To France no voyage to be sure,
But Sir Andrew Barton makes us quail, 15
And robs us of our marchant ware."
Vext was the king, and turning him,
Said to the lords of high degree,
"Have I ne'er a lord within my realm,
Dare fetch that traytor unto me?" 20
To him reply'd Charles Lord Howard,
"I will, my liege, with heart and hand;
If it will please you grant me leave," he said,
"I will perform what you command."
To him then spoke King Henry, 25
"I fear, my lord, you are too young."
"No whit at all, my liege," quoth he;
"I hope to prove in valour strong.
The Scotch knight I vow to seek,
In what place soever he be, 30
And bring ashore with all his might,
Or into Scotland he shall carry me."
"A hundred men," the king then said,
"Out of my realm shall chosen be,
Besides sailors and ship-boys, 35
To guide a great ship on the sea.
Bowmen and gunners of good skill,
Shall for this service chosen be,
And they at thy command and will
In all affairs shall wait on thee." 40
Lord Howard call'd a gunner then,
Who was the best in all the realm,
His age was threescore years and ten,
And Peter Simon was his name.
My lord call'd then a bow-man rare, 45
Whose active hands had gained fame
A gentleman born in Yorkshire,
And William Horsely was his name.
"Horsely!" quoth he, "I must to sea,
To seek a traytor, with good speed: 50
Of a hundred bow-men brave," quoth he,
"I have chosen thee to be the head."
"If you, my lord, have chosen me
Of a hundred men to be the head,
Upon the mainmast I'll hanged be, 55
If twelve-score I miss one shilling's breadth."
Lord Howard then of courage bold,
Went to the sea with pleasant cheer,
Not curbed with winter's piercing cold,
Tho' it was the stormy time of year. 60
Not long had he been on sea,
More in days than number three,
But one Henry Hunt then he espy'd,
A merchant of Newcastle was he.
To him Lord Howard call'd out amain, 65
And strictly charged him to stand;
Demanding then from whence he came,
Or where he did intend to land.
The merchant then made answer soon,
With heavy heart and careful mind, 70
"My lord, my ship it doth belong
Unto New-castle upon Tine."
"Canst thou show me," the lord did say,
"As thou didst sail by day and night,
A Scottish rover on the sea, 75
His name is Andrew Barton, knight?"
Then the merchant sighed and said,
With grieved mind and well-a-way,
"But over well I know that wight,
I was his prisoner yesterday. 80
"As I, my lord, did sail from France,
A Burdeaue voyage to take so far,
I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence,
Who robb'd me of my merchant ware.
And mickle debts God knows I owe, 85
And every man doth crave his own;
And I am bound to London now,
Of our gracious king to beg a boon."
"Show me him," said Lord Howard then,
"Let me once the villain see, 90
And every penny he hath from thee ta'en,
I'll double the same with shillings three."
"Now, God forbid," the merchant said,
"I fear your aim that you will miss;
God bless you from his tyranny, 95
For little you think what man he is.
"He is brass within and steel without,
His ship most huge and mighty strong,
With eighteen pieces of ordinance,
He carrieth on each side along. 100
With beams for his top-castle,
As also being huge and high,
That neither English nor Portugal
Can Sir Andrew Barton pass by."
"Hard news thou shewst," then said the lord, 105
"To welcome stranger to the sea;
But as I said, I'll bring him aboard,
Or into Scotland he shall carry me."
The merchant said, "If thou will do so,
Take councel, then, I pray withal: 110
Let no man to his top-castle go,
Nor strive to let his beams downfall.
"Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then,
Of each side of my ship," said he,
"And to-morrow, my Lord, 115
Again I will your honour see.
A glass I set as may be seen,
Whether you sail by day or night;
And to-morrow, be sure before seven,
You shall see Sir Andrew Barton, knight." 120
The merchant set my lord a glass,
So well apparent in his sight,
That on the morrow, as his promise was,
He saw Sir Andrew Barton, knight:
The lord then swore a mighty oath, 125
"Now by the heavens that be of might,
By faith, believe me, and my troth,
I think he is a worthy knight."
"Fetch me my lyon out of hand,"[L129]
Saith the lord, "with rose and streamer high; 130
Set up withal a willow-wand,
That merchant like, I may pass by:"
Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass,
And on anchor rise so high;
No top-sail at last he cast, 135
But as a foe did him defie.
Sir Andrew Barton seeing him
Thus scornfully to pass by,
As tho' he cared not a pin
For him and his company; 140
Then called he his men amain,
"Fetch back yon pedlar now," quoth he,
"And ere this way he comes again,
I'll teach him well his courtesie."
A piece of ordnance soon was shot 145
By this proud pirate fiercely then,
Into Lord Howard's middle deck,
Which cruel shot killed fourteen men.
He called then Peter Simon, he:
"Look how thy word do stand instead, 150
For thou shall be hanged on main-mast,
If thou miss twelve score one penny breadth."
Then Peter Simon gave a shot,
Which did Sir Andrew mickle scare,
In at his deck it came so hot, 155
Killed fifteen of his men of war.
"Alas," then said the pirate stout,
"I am in danger now I see;
This is some lord, I greatly fear,
That is set on to conquer me." 160
Then Henry Hunt, with rigour hot,
Came bravely on the other side,
Who likewise shot in at his deck,
And killed fifty of his men beside.
Then "Out alas," Sir Andrew cryd, 165
"What may a man now think or say!
Yon merchant thief that pierceth me,
He was my prisoner yesterday."
Then did he on Gordion call
Unto the top castle for to go, 170
And bid his beams he should let fall,
For he greatly fear'd an overthrow.
The lord call'd Horsely now in haste:
"Look that thy word stand in stead,
For thou shall be hanged on main mast, 175
If thou miss twelve score a shilling's breadth."
Then up [the] mast tree swerved he,
This stout and mighty Gordion;
But Horsely he most happily
Shot him under his collar-bone: 180
Then call'd he on his nephew then,
Said, "Sister's son, I have no mo,
Three hundred pound I will give thee,
If thou will to top-castle go."
Then stoutly he began to climb, 185
From off the mast scorn'd to depart;
But Horsely soon prevented him,
And deadly pierced him to the heart.
His men being slain, then up amain
Did this proud pirate climb with speed, 190
For armour of proof he had on,
And did not dint of arrows dread.
"Come hither, Horseley," said the lord,
"See thou thy arrows aim aright;
Great means to thee I will afford, 195
And if thou speedst, I'll make thee knight."
Sir Andrew did climb up the tree,
With right good will and all his main;
Then upon the breast hit Horsley he,
Till the arrow did return again. 200
Then Horsley spied a private place,
With a perfect eye, in a secret part;
His arrow swiftly flew apace,
And smote Sir Andrew to the heart.
"Fight on, fight on, my merry men all, 205
A little I am hurt, yet not slain;
I'll but lie down and bleed awhile,
And come and fight with you again.
"And do not," said he, "fear English rogues,
And of your foes stand not in awe, 210
But stand fast by St. Andrew's crosse,
Until you hear my whistle blow."
They never heard this whistle blow,
Which made them all full sore afraid.
Then Horsely said, "My Lord, aboard, 215
For now Sir Andrew Barton's dead."
Thus boarded they his gallant ship,
With right good will and all their main;
Eighteen score Scots alive in it,
Besides as many more was slain. 220
The lord went where Sir Andrew lay,
And quickly thence cut off his head;
"I should forsake England many a day,
If thou wert alive as thou art dead."
Thus from the wars Lord Howard came, 225
With mickle joy and triumphing;
The pirate's head he brought along
For to present unto our king:
Who haply unto him did say,
Before he well knew what was done, 230
"Where is the knight and pirate gay,
That I myself may give the doom?"
"You may thank God," then said the lord,
"And four men in the ship," quoth he,
"That we are safely come ashore, 235
Sith you never had such an enemy;
That is Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon,
William Horsely, and Peter's son;[L238]
Therefore reward them for their pains,
For they did service at their turn." 240
To the merchant therefore the King he said,
"In lieu of what he hath from thee tane,
I give thee a noble a-day,
Sir Andrew's whistle and his chain:
To Peter Simon a crown a-day, 245
And half-a-crown a-day to Peter's son,
And that was for a shot so gay,
Which bravely brought Sir Andrew down.
"Horsely, I will make thee a knight,
And in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell: 250
Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight,
For this act he deserveth well.
Ninety pound to our Englishmen,
Who in this fight did stoutly stand;
And twelve-pence a-day to the Scots, till they 255
Come to my brother king's high land."
129-136. In some copies this stanza is wrongly placed after the next.
238. The services of Peter's son, not mentioned in this ballad, are duly
recorded in the older, unabridged copy. See v. 53-56, on p. 64.
THE BATTLE OF CORICHIE ON THE HILL OF FAIR, FOUGHT OCT. 28, 1562.
From Evans's _Old Ballads_, iii. 132.
The favor shown by Queen Mary to her brother Lord James Stuart, on her
first coming to Scotland, excited a violent jealousy in Gordon, Earl
of Huntly, who, as a Catholic, and the head of a loyal and powerful
family in the North, expected no slight distinction from his
sovereign. This jealousy broke out into open hostility when the Queen,
in 1562, conferred on her brother the earldom of Murray, the honors
and revenues of which had been enjoyed by Huntly since 1548. Mary was
at this time on a progress in the northern part of her kingdom,
attended by the new earl and a small escort. Huntly collected his
vassals and posted himself at a place called the Fair Bank, or
Corichie, near Aberdeen. Murray having increased his forces by seven
or eight hundred of the Forbeses and Leslies, who, although attached
to the Huntly faction, dared not disobey the Queen's summons, marched
to the attack. As little confidence could be placed in the good faith
of the northern recruits, he ordered them to begin the battle. In
obedience to this command, they advanced against the enemy, but
instantly recoiled and retreated in a pretended panic on Murray's
reserve, followed by the Gordons in disorder. The Queen's party
received both the flying and the pursuers with an impenetrable front
of lances. Huntly was repulsed, and the other northern clans, seeing
how the victory was going, turned their swords upon their friends.
Many of the Gordons were slain, and the Earl, who was old and fat,
being thrown from his horse, was smothered in the retreat. His sons
John and Adam were taken prisoners, and the former was put to death at
Aberdeen the day after the battle.
The following ballad, it will be perceived, is utterly at variance
with the facts of history. It was first printed in Evans's _Old
Ballads_, and is said to be the composition of one Forbes,
schoolmaster at Mary-Culter, on Dee-side. The dialect is broad
Aberdeen.
Murn ye heighlands, and murn ye leighlands,
I trow ye hae meikle need;
For thi bonny burn o' Corichie
His run this day wi' bleid.
Thi hopefu' laird o' Finliter,[L5] 5
Erle Huntly's gallant son,
For thi love hi bare our beauteous quine
His gar't fair Scotland mone.
Hi his braken his ward in Aberdene,
Throu dreid o' thi fause Murry, 10
And his gather't the gentle Gordone clan,
An' his father, auld Huntly.
Fain wid he tak our bonny guide quine,
An' beare hir awa' wi' him;
But Murry's slee wyles spoil't a' thi sport, 15
An' reft him o' lyfe and lim.
Murry gar 't rayse thi tardy Merns men,
An' Angis, an' mony ane mair,
Erle Morton, and the Byres Lord Linsay,
An' campit at thi hill o' Fare. 20
Erle Huntlie came wi' Haddo Gordone,
An' countit ane thusan men;
But Murry had abien twal hunder,
Wi' sax score horsemen and ten.
They soundit thi bougills an' the trumpits, 25
An' marchit on in brave array,
Till the spiers an' the axis forgatherit,
An' than did begin thi fray.
Thi Gordones sae fercelie did fecht it,
Withouten terrer or dreid, 30
That mony o' Murry's men lay gaspin,
An' dyit thi grund wi theire bleid.
Then fause Murry feingit to flee them,
An' they pursuit at his backe,
Whan thi haf o' thi Gordones desertit, 35
An' turnit wi' Murray in a crack.
Wi hether i' thir bonnits they turnit,
The traiter Haddo o' their heid,
An' slaid theire brithers an' their fatheris,
An' spoilit an' left them for deid. 40
Then Murry cried to tak thi auld Gordone,
An' mony ane ran wi' speid;
But Stuart o' Inchbraik had him stickit,
An' out gushit thi fat lurdane's bleid.
Then they teuke his twa sones quick an' hale, 45
An' bare them awa' to Aberdene;
But fair did our guide quine lament
Thi waeful chance that they were tane.
Erle Murry lost mony a gallant stout man;
Thi hopefu' laird o' Thornitune, 50
Pittera's sons, an Egli's far fearit laird,
An mair to mi unkend, fell doune.
Erle Huntly mist ten score o' his bra' men,
Sum o' heigh an' sum o' leigh degree;
Skeenis youngest son, thi pryde o' a' the clan,
Was ther fun' dead, he widna flee. 55
This bloody fecht wis fercely faucht
Octobri's aught an' twinty day,
Crystis' fyfteen hundred thriscore yeir
An' twa will merk thi deidlie fray. 60
But now the day maist waefu' came,
That day the quine did grite her fill,
For Huntly's gallant stalwart son,
Wis heidit on thi heidin hill.
Fyve noble Gordones wi' him hangit were 65
Upon thi samen fatal playne;
Crule Murry gar't thi waefu' quine luke out,
And see hir lover an' liges slayne.
I wis our quine had better frinds,
I wis our country better peice; 70
I wis our lords wid na' discord,
I wis our weirs at hame may ceise.
5. This.
THE BATTLE OF BALRINNES,
(OTHERWISE CALLED THE BATTLE OF GLENLIVET.)
When Philip the Second was preparing his Armada for the conquest of
England, he spared no pains to induce James of Scotland to favor his
enterprise. Elizabeth, on her part, was not less active to secure the
friendship of a neighbor, who, by opening or closing his ports, might
do so much to assist or to counteract the projects of her enemy. James
had the wisdom to see that it was not for his interest to ally
himself with a power that sought the extinction of the faith which he
professed, and the subjugation of a kingdom to which he was the heir.
The Spanish overtures were rejected, and the great body of the people,
warmly applauding the king's decision, entered into a combination to
resist an attempt to land at any point on the Scottish coast. There
was, nevertheless, a small party in Scotland which favoured the
designs of Philip. At the head of this faction were the Catholic Earls
of Huntly, Errol, and Angus. Even after the dispersion of the Armada,
they kept up negotiations with the Prince of Parma and the King of
Spain, in the hope of restoring the ancient religion, or at least of
obtaining for themselves an equality of privileges with the
Protestants. More than once were the leaders of this party committed
to prison for overt acts of treason, and released by the clemency of
the sovereign, but suffering as the Romanists did under the oppression
of a fanatical majority, rebellion was their natural condition.
After various acts of insubordination, continued for a series of
years, it was proved beyond question that the Catholic earls had
signed papers for an invasion of Britain by 30,000 foreigners. A
Convention of Estates, summoned to consider the affair, finally
determined that the three earls should be exempt from further inquiry
on account of this conspiracy, but that before the first day of
February, 1594, they should either renounce the errors of Popery, or
remove from the kingdom. The Catholic leaders, relying on the number
of their supporters, and not less on the inaccessible nature of the
country in which their estates lay, scornfully rejected the choice
proposed to them, renewed their connections with Spain, and were
accordingly declared guilty of high treason and subjected to the doom
of forfeiture.
King James's exchequer was at this time so low that it was impossible
for him to undertake the enforcing of this sentence in person. He was
obliged to delegate the office to the young Earl of Argyle, who was
induced to accept the appointment by the promise of a portion of
Huntly's forfeited estates. The prospect of booty and the authority of
the chief of the Campbells drew together six or seven thousand
Highlanders, to whom were joined some hundreds of men from the Western
Islands, under the chief of Maclean. With this body, one fourth of
whom carried firelocks, while the rest were armed after the Gaelic
fashion, Argyle descended from the hills towards Huntly's castle of
Strathbogie.
The chief of the Gordons, suddenly assailed, had no time to procure
assistance from Angus. He collected about a thousand gentlemen of his
own name, and Errol came to his aid with two or three hundred of the
Hays. All these were men of birth, well armed and mounted, and to this
small, but powerful, troop of cavalry, was added a train of six field
pieces (engines very terrible to Highlanders), under the management of
an excellent soldier, the very same Captain Ker, who has figured
already in the ballad of _Edom o' Gordon_.
The armies encountered at a place called Belrinnes in a district
called Glenlivet. The Highlanders were posted on a mountain-side, so
steep that footmen could barely keep their hold. Notwithstanding this
obstacle, the Earls determined to attempt the ascent, and Errol,
supported by Sir Patrick Gordon, led the Hays up the hill in the very
face of the foe. While the vanguard was advancing, Ker brought some of
his artillery to bear on Argyle's front, which threw the Highlanders
into confusion, and caused some of them to fly. Errol's horsemen,
however, were soon forced by the steepness of the mountain to wheel
and move obliquely, and their flank being thus exposed, their horses
suffered considerable damage from a volley of bullets and arrows. Upon
this Huntly made a fierce attack upon Argyle's centre, and bore down
his banner, and his cavalry soon after attaining to more even ground,
where their horses could operate with efficiency, the Highlanders, who
were destitute of lances, and so unable to withstand the shock, were
driven down the other side of the hill, and put to utter rout. The
chief of Maclean alone withstood the assault of the horsemen, and
performed marvellous feats of bravery, but was at last forced off the
field by his own soldiers, and Argyle himself was compelled to fly,
weeping with anger. Of the Catholics, Sir Patrick Gordon, Huntley's
uncle, was slain, with only twelve others. The loss of the other party
was several hundred soldiers, besides some men of note, among them
Campbell of Lochinzell.
This battle was fought on the third of October, 1594. The action is
called the Battle of Glenlivet, or of Balrinnes, and also of
Strath-aven.--See the 38th chapter of Sir W. Scott's _History of
Scotland_, and the contemporary narrative in Dalzell's _Scotish Poems
of the Sixteenth Century_, i. 136.
The ballad which follows is taken from the publication of Dalzell
just mentioned, vol. ii. p. 347. There is a copy in the Pepys
Collection, and another in the Advocates' Library, printed at
Edinburgh in 1681. The ballad is also printed, undoubtedly from a
stall copy, in _Scarce Ancient Ballads_, p. 29. The first four stanzas
had previously been given in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 144.
The older version of Dalzell is somewhat defective, and abounds in
errors, which, as well as the vitiated orthography, are attributed to
the ignorance of an English transcriber. The omissions are here
supplied in the margin from the other copies.
Betuixt Dunother and Aberdein,
I rais and tuik the way,
Beleiuing weill it had not beine
Nought halff ane hour to day.
The lift was clad with cloudis gray, 5
And owermaskit was the moone,
Quhilk me deceaued whair I lay,
And maid me ryss ouer soone.
On Towie Mounth I mett a man,
Weill grathed in his gear: 10
Quoth I, "Quhat neues?" then he begane
To tell a fitt of warre.
Quoth he, "Of lait I heir,[L13]
Ane bloodie broust there was brouine,
Zesterday, withouten moir, 15
Upone ane hill at Strathdoune."
* * * * *
Then I, as any man wold be, 25
Desyrous for to know
Mair of that taill he told to me,
The quhilk he said he sawe--
Be then the day began to daw,
And back with him I red; 30
Then he began the soothe to schaw,
And on this wayis he said.
Macallenmore cam from the wast
With many a bow and brand;
To wast the Rinnes he thought best, 35
The Earll of Huntlies land.[L36]
He swore that none should him gainestand,
Except that he war fay;
Bot all sould be at his comand
That dwelt be northen Tay. 40
Then Huntlie, for to prevent that perrill,
Directit hastilie
Unto the noble Erll of Erroll,
Besought him for supplie.
Quha said, "It is my deutie 45
For to giue Huntlie support;
For if he lossis Strabolgie,
My Slaines will be ill hurt.
"Thairfoir I hald the subject vaine,
Wold rave us of our right; 50
First sall one of us be slaine,
The uther tak the flight.
Suppose Argyll be muche of might,
Be force of Heigheland men;
We's be a motte into his sight, 55
Or he pas hame againe.