‘germanus domini Willelmi,’ fought with the Earl of Murray in the first
Scottish division, and the Earl of Buchan was associated with King David
in the command of the second. The English were also in three bodies. The
leaders of the first were the Earl of Angus, ‘inter omnes Angliæ nobilis
persona,’ Henry Percy, Ralph Neville, and Henry Scrope; the Archbishop
of York led the second; Mowbray, Rokeby, and John of Copland were in the
third. Ed. Stevenson, pp. 349–51.
David, in the ballad, proposes to himself nothing less than the conquest
of England and the distribution of the territory among his chief men. He
is not a youth of twenty-two; William Douglas has served him four and
thirty years. Still he will brook no advice, and kills his own squire
for warning him of the danger of his enterprise. The Earl of Angus is to
lead the van; but Angus, as we have seen, was engaged on the other side.
The title of Angus might have deceived the minstrel, but it was hardly
to be expected that Neville should be turned into a Scot as he is in st.
17. Angus, and also ‘Vaughan,’ that is Baughan, or Buchan,[153] are to
be in the king’s coat-armor, sts 11, 13, imitating Blunt and the rest at
Shrewsbury, and the five false Richmonds at Bosworth. James[154] Douglas
offers to lead the van, 14; so does William Douglas in 21. An Englishman
who does not know a Neville would surely not be very precise about a
Douglas, and it must be conceded that the Douglases have not always been
kept perfectly distinct by historians. James Douglas, whoever he may be
supposed to be, “went before;” that is, he plays the part which belongs
historically to the Knight of Liddesdale, loses all his men, and
returns, with an arrow in his thigh, to report that one Englishman is
worth five Scots: 26–33.[155] But the Scots, even at that rate, have the
advantage, for a herald, sent out to reconnoitre, tells their king that
they are ten to one.
The commanders on the English side are the Bishop of Durham, Earl Percy,
the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Carlisle, and “Lord
Fluwilliams.”[156] The Bishop of Durham orders that no man shall fight
before he has ‘served his God,’ and five hundred priests say mass in the
field who afterwards take part in the fray. (The monks of Durham,
Knyghton tells us, had made terms with the Scots, and were to pay a
thousand pounds for ransom-money the next day; and so, when they saw the
Scots yielding, they raised their voices in a Te Deum, which sounded to
the clouds and quickened the courage of the English.) The king of Scots
is wounded by an arrow through his nose, and, stepping aside to bleed,
is taken prisoner by John of Copland, whom he first smites angrily.
Copland sets the king on a palfrey and leads him to London. King Edward,
newly arrived from France, asks him how he likes the shepherds, millers,
and priests. There’s not a yeoman in England, says David, but he is
worth a Scottish knight. Aye, says King Edward, laughing, that is
because you were fighting against the right. Shortly after this the
Black Prince brings the king of France captive from the field of
Poitiers. Says David to John, Welcome, brother, but I would I had gone
to Rome! And I, would I had gone to Jerusalem! replies John. Thus ends
the battle of Durham, fought, says the minstrel, on a morning of May,
sts 27, 64, and within the same month as the battles of Crécy and
Poitiers.[157] Though Poitiers was fought ten years after Durham, the
king of Scots and the king of France no doubt met in London, for John
was taken thither in April, 1357, and David was not released from his
captivity until the following November.
Stanza 18 affords us an upper limit for a date. Lord Hambleton is said
to be of the king’s kin full nigh. James Hamilton, the first lord,
married the princess Mary, sister of James III, in 1474, and his
descendants were the next heirs to the throne after the Stewarts, whose
line was for a time but barely kept up.
1
Lordinges, listen, and hold you still;
Hearken to me a litle;
I shall you tell of the fairest battell
_Tha_t eu_er_ in England beffell.
2
For as it befell in Edward the Thirds dayes,
In England, where he ware the crowne,
Then all the cheefe chiualry of England
They busked and made them bowne.
3
They chosen all the best archers
_Tha_t in England might be found,
And all was to fight w_i_th the k_ing_ of Ffrance,
W_i_thin a litle stounde.
4
And when our k_ing_ was ou_er_ the water,
And on the salt sea gone,
Then tydings into Scotland came
_Tha_t all England was gone.
5
Bowes and arrowes they were all forth,
At home was not left a man
But shepards and millers both,
And preists w_i_th shauen crownes.
6
Then the k_ing_ of Scotts in a study stood,
As he was a man of great might;
He sware he wold hold his parlam_ent_ in leeue London,
If he cold ryde there right.
7
Then bespake a squ_ier_, of Scottland borne,
And sayd, My leege, apace,
Before you come to leeue London,
Full sore you’le rue _tha_t race.
8
Ther beene bold yeomen in merry England,
Husbandmen stiffe and strong;
Sharpe swords they done weare,
Bearen bowes and arrowes longe.
9
The K_ing_ was angrye at that word;
A long sword out hee drew,
And there befor his royall companye
His owne squier hee slew.
10
Hard hansell had the Scottes _tha_t day,
_Tha_t wrought them woe enoughe,
For then durst not a Scott speake a word
Ffor hanging att a boughe.
11
‘The Earle of Anguish, where art thou?
In my coate-armor thou shalt bee,
And thou shalt lead the forward
Thorrow the English countrye.
12
‘Take thee Yorke,’ then sayd the K_ing_,
‘In stead wheras it doth stand;
I’le make thy eldest sonne after thee
Heyre of all Northumberland.
13
‘The Earle of Vaughan, where be yee?
In my coate-armor thou shalt bee;
The high Peak and Derbyshire
I giue it thee to thy fee.’
14
Then came in famous Douglas,
Saies, What shall my meede bee?
And I’le lead the vawward, lord,
Thorow the English countrye.
15
‘Take thee Worster,’ sayd the K_ing_,
‘Tuxburye, Killingworth, Burton vpon Trent;
Doe thou not say another day
But I haue giuen thee lands and rent.
16
‘S_i_r Rich_ard_ of Edenborrow, where are yee?
A wise man in this warr!
I’le giue thee Bristow and the shire
The time _tha_t wee come there.
17
‘My lo_rd_ Nevill, where beene yee?
You must in this warres bee;
I’le giue thee Shrewsburye,’ saies the K_ing_,
‘And Couentrye faire and free.
18
‘My lo_rd_ of Hambleton, where art thou?
Thou art of my kin full nye;
I’le giue thee Lincolne and Lincolneshire,
And _tha_t’s enouge for thee.’
19
By then came in W_illia_m Douglas,
As breeme as any bore;
He kneeled him downe vpon his knees,
In his hart he sighed sore.
20
Saies, I haue serued you, my louelye leege,
This thirty winters and four,
And in the Marches betweene England and Scottland
I haue beene wounded and beaten sore.
21
For all the good service _tha_t I haue done,
What shall my meed bee?
And I will lead the vanward
Thorrow the English countrye.
22
‘Aske on, Douglas,’ said the king,
‘And granted it shall bee:’
‘Why then, I aske litle London,’ saies Will_iam_ Douglas,
‘Gotten giff _tha_t it bee.’
23
The K_ing_ was wrath, and rose away,
Saies, Nay, _tha_t cannot bee!
For _tha_t I will keepe for my cheefe chamber,
Gotten if it bee.
24
But take thee North Wales and Weschaster,
The cuntrye all round about,
And rewarded thou shalt bee,
Of _tha_t take thou noe doubt.
25
Fiue score k_nigh_ts he made on a day,
And dubbd them with his hands;
Rewarded them right worthilye
W_i_th the townes in merry England.
26
And when the fresh k_nigh_ts they were made,
To battell the buske them bowne;
Iames Douglas went before,
And he thought to haue wonnen him shoone.
27
But the were mett in a morning of May
W_i_th the com_m_inaltye of litle England;
But there scaped neu_er_ a man away,
Through the might of Christës hand.
28
But all onely Iames Douglas;
In Durham in the ffeild
An arrow stroke him in the thye;
Fast flinge[s he] towards the K_ing_.
29
The K_ing_ looked toward litle Durham,
Saies, All things is not well!
For Iames Dowglas beares an arrow in his thye,
The head of it is of steele.
30
‘How now Iames?’ then said the K_ing_,
‘How now, how may this bee?
And where beene all thy merrymen
That thou tooke hence with thee?’
31
‘But cease, my k_ing_,’ saies Iames Douglas,
‘Aliue is not left a man!’
‘Now by my faith,’ saies the k_ing_ of Scottes,
‘_Tha_t gate was euill gone.
32
‘But I’le reuenge thy quarrell well,
And of _tha_t thou may be faine;
For one Scott will beate fiue Englishmen,
If the meeten them on the plaine.’
33
‘Now hold yo_u_r tounge,’ saies Iames Douglas,
‘For in faith _tha_t is not soe;
For one English man is worth fiue Scotts,
When they meeten together thoe.
34
‘For they are as egar men to fight
As a faulcon vpon a pray;
Alas! if eu_er_ the winne the vanward,
There scapes noe man away.’
35
‘O peace thy talking,’ said the K_ing_,
‘They bee but English knaues,
But shepards and millers both,
And preists w_i_th their staues.’
36
The K_ing_ sent forth one of his heralds of armes
To vew the Englishmen:
‘Be of good cheere,’ the herald said,
‘For against one wee bee ten.’
37
‘Who leades those ladds?’ said the k_ing_ of Scottes,
‘Thou herald, tell thou mee:’
The herald said, The Bishopp of Durham
Is captaine of _tha_t companye.
38
‘For the Bishopp hath spred the K_ing_‘s banner,
And to battell he buskes him bowne:’
‘I sweare by St. Andrewes bones,’ saies the K_ing_,
‘I’le rapp _tha_t preist on the crowne.’
39
The K_ing_ looked towards litle Durham,
And _tha_t hee well beheld,
_Tha_t the Earle Percy was well armed,
W_i_th his battell-axe entred the feild.
40
The K_ing_ looket againe towards litle Durham,
Four ancyents there see hee;
There were to standards, six in a valley,
He cold not see them w_i_th his eye.
41
My Lord of Yorke was one of them,
My Lord of Carlile was the other,
And my Lord Ffluwilliams,
The one came w_i_th the other.
42
The Bishopp of Durham com_m_anded his men,
And shortlye he them bade,
_Tha_t neu_er_ a man shold goe to the feild to fight
Till he had serued his God.
43
Fiue hundred preists said masse _tha_t day
In Durham in the feild,
And afterwards, as I hard say,
They bare both speare and sheeld.
44
The Bishopp of Durham orders himselfe to fight,
W_i_th his battell-axe in his hand;
He said, This day now I will fight
As long as I can stand!
45
‘And soe will I,’ sayd my Lo_rd_ of Carlile,
‘In this faire morning gay;’
‘And soe will I,’ said my Lo_rd_ Ffluwilliams,
‘For Mary, _tha_t myld may.’
46
Our English archers bent their bowes.
Shortlye and anon;
They shott ou_er_ the Scottish oast
And scantlye toucht a man.
47
‘Hold downe yo_u_r hands,’ sayd the Bishopp of Durham,
‘My archers good and true:’
The second shoote _tha_t the shott,
Full sore the Scottes itt rue.
48
The Bishopp of Durham spoke on hye,
_Tha_t both p_ar_tyes might heare:
‘Be of good cheere, my merrymen all,
The Scotts flyen, and changen there cheere.’
49
But as the saidden, soe the didden,
They fell on heapës hye;
Our Englishmen laid on w_i_th their bowes,
As fast as they might dree.
50
The k_ing_ of Scotts in a studye stood
Amongst his companye;
An arrow stoke him thorrow the nose,
And thorrow his armorye.
51
The K_ing_ went to a marsh-side
And light beside his steede;
He leaned him downe on his sword-hilts,
To let his nose bleede.
52
There followed him a yeaman of merry England,
His name was Iohn of Coplande:
‘Yeeld thee, traytor!’ saies Coplande then,
‘Thy liffe lyes in my hand.’
53
‘How shold I yeeld me,’ sayes the K_ing_,
‘And thou art noe gentleman?’
‘Noe, by my troth,’ sayes Copland there,
‘I am but a poore yeaman.
54
‘What art thou better then I, S_i_r K_ing_?
Tell me if that thou can!
What art thou better then I, S_i_r K_ing_,
Now we be but man to man?’
55
The K_ing_ smote angerly at Copland then,
Angerly in that stonde;
And then Copland was a bold yeaman,
And bore the K_ing_ to the ground.
56
He sett the K_ing_ upon a palfrey,
Himselfe upon a steede;
He tooke him by the bridle-rayne,
Towards London he can him lead.
57
And when to London _tha_t he came,
The K_ing_ from Ffrance was new come home,
And there unto the k_ing_ of Scottes
He sayd these words anon.
58
‘How like you my shepards and my millers?
My priests w_i_th shaven crownes?’
‘By my fayth, they are the sorest fighting men
_Tha_t ev_e_r I mett on the ground.
59
‘There was never a yeaman in merry England
But he was worth a Scottish k_nigh_t:’
‘I, by my troth,’ said K_ing_ Edward, and laughe,
‘For you fought all against the right.’
60
But now the prince of merry England,
Worthilye under his sheelde,
Hath taken the k_ing_ of Ffrance,
At Poytiers in the ffeelde.
61
The prince did p_re_sent his father w_i_th _tha_t food,
The louely k_ing_ off Ffrance,
And fforward of his iourney he is gone:
God send us all good chance!
62
‘You are welcome, broth_er_!’ sayd the k_ing_ of Scotts, to _th_e
k_ing_ of Ffrance,
‘For I am come hither to soone;
Christ leeve _tha_t I had taken my way
Unto the court of Roome!’
63
‘And soe wold I,’ said the k_ing_ of Ffrance,
‘When I came over the streame,
_Tha_t I had taken my iourney
Unto Ierusalem!’
64
Thus ends the battell of ffaire Durham,
In one morning of May,
The battell of Cressey, and _th_e battle of Potyers,
All within one monthës day.
65
Then was welthe and welfare in mery England,
Solaces, game, and glee,
And every man loved other well,
And the K_ing_ loved good yeomanrye.
66
But God _tha_t made the grasse to growe,
And leaves on greenwoode tree,
Now save and keepe our noble k_ing_,
And maintaine good yeomanry!
* * * * *
And _for_ & _throughout_.
1^1. _Perhaps_ lesten: yo.
1^2. a litle spell?
2^1. 3^{ds}.
8^3. sharpes.
11^3. forward _has a tag to the_ #d#. _Furnivall._
12^1. thy _for_ thee.
13^1. _in_ Earle _the_ l _is made over an_ e. _Furnivall._
15^2. Tuxburye _doubtful in the MS._
20^2. 30: 4.
25^1. 5 score.
31^1. Janes.
32^3, 33^3. 5.
_After_ 39. 2d part.
40^2. 4.
40^3. 6.
43^1. 500.
44^1. Durhan.
47^3. 2d.
62^1. brothers.
66. _Pencil note in Percy’s late hand._
This and 2 following leaves being unfortunately torn out, in
sending the subsequent piece [‘King Estmere’] to the press, the
conclusion of the preceding ballad has been carefully
transcribed; and indeed the fragments of the other leaves ought
to have been so.
160
THE KNIGHT OF LIDDESDALE
Hume of Godscroft, History of the Houses of Douglas and Angus, 1644,
p. 77.
William Douglas, the Knight of Liddesdale, who figures in the foregoing
ballad, was assassinated in 1353, while hunting in Ettrick forest, by
his kinsman and godson, Lord William Douglas.
According to the Scotichronicon, the motive was said to be revenge for
Alexander Ramsay, one of the first men among the Scots, whom Liddesdale
had assaulted while he was holding a court, wounded, carried off, and
suffered to die by starving; and for Sir David Berkeley, whom Liddesdale
was charged with procuring to be murdered in 1350, in return for the
death of his brother, Sir John Douglas, brought to pass by Berkeley.
(Scotichronicon, ed. Goodall, II, 348, 335, XIV, 8, XIII, 50, XIV, 7.)
Hume of Godscroft considers the motive assigned to be quite unnatural,
and at best a pretence. A ballad known to him gave a different account.
“The Lord of Liddesdale, being at his pastime, hunting in Attrick
forest, is beset by William Earle of Douglas, and such as hee had
ordained for that purpose, and there assailed, wounded, and slain,
beside Galsewood, in the yeare 1353; upon a jealousie that the Earle had
conceived of him with his lady, as the report goeth, for so sayes the
old song.” After citing the stanza which follows, Hume goes on to say:
“The song also declareth how shee did write her love-letters to
Liddisdale, to disswade him from that hunting. It tells likewise the
manner of the taking of his men, and his owne killing at Galsewood, and
how hee was carried the first night to Lindin Kirk, a mile from Selkirk,
and was buried within the Abbacie of Melrosse.”
“The sole basis for this statement of Hume’s,” says Sir William Fraser,
The Douglas Book, I, 223 f, 1885, “seems to be the anonymous Border
ballad, part of which he quotes, to which he adds the tradition that the
lady wrote to her lover to dissuade him from that hunting. Apart from
the fact that this tradition is opposed to contemporary history, which
states that Sir William was wholly unsuspicious of danger, the story
told by Godscroft is otherwise erroneous. He assumes that Douglas was
made earl in 1346, and that he was married to a daughter of the Earl of
March, neither of which assumptions is true. Douglas was not created
earl until 26th January, 1357–8, and there was therefore no ‘Countess of
Douglas’ to wait for the Knight of Liddesdale. Douglas’s only wife was
Lady Margaret of Mar, who survived him. The exact date of their marriage
has not been ascertained, but it is certain that Douglas had no countess
of the family of March in 1353, while it is doubtful if at that date he
was married at all. Popular tradition is therefore at fault in assigning
matrimonial jealousy as a motive for killing the Knight of Liddesdale.”
“Some fragments of this ballad are still current, and will be found in
the ensuing work,” says Scott, Minstrelsy, I, 221, note, ed. 1833. It
may be that Sir Walter became convinced that these fragments were not
genuine; at any rate, they do not appear in his collection.
The Countesse of Douglas out of her boure she came,
And loudly there that she did call:
‘It is for the Lord of Liddesdale
That I let all these teares downe fall.’
161
THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN
#A. a.# Cotton MS. Cleopatra, C. iv, leaf 24, of about 1550. #b.#
Harleian MS. 293, leaf 52. Both in the British Museum.
#B. a.# Herd’s MSS, I, 149, II, 30; Herd’s Scottish Songs, 1776, I,
153. #b.# Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1802, I, 31.
#C.# Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1833, I, 354.
#D.# Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, xviii f., two stanzas.
#E.# Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. lxxi, note 30, one stanza.
#A a# was first printed in the fourth edition of Percy’s Reliques, 1794,
I, 18, and #A b# in the first edition, 1765, I, 18.
By far the most circumstantial account of the battle of Otterburn is
given by Froissart (Chroniques, Buchon, XI, 362 ff, chap. 115 ff), and
his highly felicitous narrative may be briefly summarized as follows.
The quarrels of Richard II with his uncles and a consequent feud between
the great northern families of Neville and Percy furnished the Scots an
inviting opportunity for an invasion of England on a large scale. Under
the pretext of a festive meeting, a preliminary conference of barons and
knights was held at Aberdeen, and it was there agreed that they should
muster, the middle of August, 1388, at a place on the border near
Jedburgh, with such forces as they could command. In all this they took
no counsel with the king, who was then past seventy, and was regarded as
of no account for their purposes. The result was a larger gathering than
had been seen for sixty years, quite twelve hundred lances and forty
thousand ordinary fighting-men.
The Earl of Northumberland and his sons, the Seneschal of York, and the
Captain of Berwick had heard of the intended meeting at Aberdeen, and
had sent heralds and minstrels thither, to get further information.
These agents reported that all Scotland was astir, and that there was to
be another parley in the forest of Jedburgh. The barons and knights of
Northumberland made due preparations, and, the better to keep these
secret, remained quiet in their houses, ready to sally as soon as they
learned that the Scots were in motion. Feeling themselves incapable of
coping with so large a body as had been collected, they decided upon a
simultaneous counter-raid, and that from the east or from the west,
according as the enemy should take the road from the west or the east.
Of this plan of the English the Scots obtained knowledge from a spy whom
they had captured, and to foil it they divided their army, directing the
main body towards Carlisle, under command of Archibald Douglas, of the
Earl of Fife, son of the king, and many other nobles, while a detachment
of three or four hundred picked men-at-arms, supported by two thousand
stout fellows, partly archers, all well mounted,[158] and commanded by
James, Earl of Douglas, the Earl of March and Dunbar, and the Earl of
Murray, were to strike for Newcastle, cross the river, and burn and
ravage the bishopric of Durham.
The eastern division (with which alone we are concerned) carried out
their program to the letter. They advanced at speed, stopping for
nothing, and meeting with no resistance, and the burning and pillaging
had begun in Durham before the Earl of Northumberland knew of their
arrival. Fire and smoke soon showed what was going on. The earl
dispatched his sons Henry and Ralph Percy to Newcastle, where the whole
country rallied, gentle and simple; he himself remaining at Alnwick, in
the hope of being able to enclose the Scots, when they should take the
way north, between two bodies of English. The Scots attained to the very
gates of Durham; then, having burned every unfortified town between
there and Newcastle, they turned northward, with a large booty, repassed
the Tyne, and halted at Newcastle. There was skirmishing for two days
before the city, and in the course of a long combat between Douglas and
Henry Percy the Scot got possession of the Englishman’s pennon. This he
told Percy he would raise on the highest point of his castle at
Dalkeith; Percy answered that he should never accomplish that vaunt, nor
should he carry the pennon out of Northumberland. ‘Come then to-night
and win it back,’ said Douglas; ‘I will plant it before my tent.’ It was
then late, and the fighting ceased; but the Scots kept good guard,
looking for Percy to come that very night for his pennon. Percy,
however, was constrained to let that night pass.
The Scots broke up their camp early the next morning and withdrew
homewards. Taking and burning the tower and town of Ponteland on their
way, they moved on to Otterburn, thirty miles northwest from Newcastle,
where there was a strong castle or tower, in marshy ground, which they
assailed for a day without success. At the end of the day they held a
council, and the greater part were in favor of making for Carlisle in
the morning, to rejoin their countrymen. But the Earl of Douglas would
not hear of this; Henry Percy had said that he would challenge his
pennon; they would stay two or three days more and assault the castle,
and see if Percy would be as good as his word. So the Scots encamped at
their ease, making themselves huts of trees, and availing themselves of
the marshes to fortify their position. At the entrance of the marshes,
which was on the Newcastle road, they put their servants and foragers,
and they drove their cattle into the bogs.
Henry Percy was greatly vexed and mortified at the loss of his pennon,
and in the evening he represented to the knights and squires of
Northumberland how much it concerned his honor to make good what he had
said to Douglas, that the pennon should never be carried out of England.
But these gentlemen were all convinced that Douglas was backed by the
whole power of Scotland, of which they had seen only the van, by forty
thousand men who could handle them at their will; at any rate, it was
better to lose a pennon than two or three hundred knights and squires,
and expose the country to risk. As for the loss of the pennon, it was
one of the chances of arms; Douglas had won it handsomely; another time
Percy would get as much from him, or more.[159] To this the Percys were
fain to yield. Later there came scouts with information that Douglas was
encamped at Otterburn, that the main army was not acting in conjunction
with him, and that his forces, all told, did not exceed three thousand.
Henry Percy was overjoyed at the news, and cried, To horse! by the faith
I owe to God and my father, I will go seek my pennon, and the Scots
shall be ousted before this night is over. The evening of that same day
the Bishop of Durham was expected to arrive with a great many men, but
Henry Percy would not wait. Six hundred lances and eight thousand foot
were enough, he said, to serve the Scots, who had but three hundred
lances and two thousand other folk. The English set forth as soon as
they could get together, by the road which the Scots had taken, but were
not able to move very fast by reason of their infantry.