O she has rowd it in her apron,
And set it on the sea:
‘Gae sink ye, or swim ye, bonny babe!
Ye’s get nae mair o me.’
8
Word is to the kitchen gane,
And word is to the ha,
And word is to the noble room,
Amang the ladyes a’,
That Marie Hamilton’s brought to bed,
And the bonny babe’s mist and awa.
9
Scarcely had she lain down again,
And scarcely fa’en asleep,
When up then started our gude queen,
Just at her bed-feet,
Saying, Marie Hamilton, where’s your babe?
For I am sure I heard it greet.
10
‘O no, O no, my noble queen,
Think no such thing to be!
’Twas but a stitch into my side,
And sair it troubles me.’
11
‘Get up, get up, Marie Hamilton,
Get up and follow me;
For I am going to Edinburgh town,
A rich wedding for to see.’
12
O slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly put she on,
And slowly rode she out the way,
Wi mony a weary groan.
13
The queen was clad in scarlet,
Her merry maids all in green,
And every town that they cam to,
They took Marie for the queen.
14
‘Ride hooly, hooly, gentlemen,
Ride hooly now wi me!
For never, I am sure, a wearier burd
Rade in your cumpanie.’
15
But little wist Marie Hamilton,
When she rade on the brown,
That she was gaen to Edinburgh town,
And a’to be put down.
16
‘Why weep ye so, ye burgess-wives,
Why look ye so on me?
O I am going to Edinburgh town
A rich wedding for to see!’
17
When she gaed up the Tolbooth stairs,
The corks frae her heels did flee;
And lang or eer she cam down again
She was condemnd to die.
18
When she cam to the Netherbow Port,
She laughed loud laughters three;
But when she cam to the gallows-foot,
The tears blinded her ee.
19
‘Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The night she’ll hae but three;
There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton,
And Marie Carmichael, and me.
20
‘O often have I dressd my queen,
And put gold upon her hair;
But now I’ve gotten for my reward
The gallows to be my share.
21
‘Often have I dressd my queen,
And often made her bed;
But now I’ve gotten for my reward
The gallows-tree to tread.
22
‘I charge ye all, ye mariners,
When ye sail ower the faem,
Let neither my father nor mother get wit
But that I’m coming hame!
23
‘I charge ye all, ye mariners,
That sail upon the sea,
Let neither my father nor mother get wit
This dog’s death I’m to die!
24
‘For if my father and mother got wit,
And my bold brethren three,
O mickle wad be the gude red blude
This day wad be spilt for me!
25
‘O little did my mother ken,
That day she cradled me,
The lands I was to travel in,
Or the death I was to die!’
J
Harris MS., fol. 10 b; “Mrs Harris and others.”
1
My mother was a proud, proud woman,
A proud, proud woman and a bold;
She sent me to Queen Marie’s bour,
When scarcely eleven years old.
2
Queen Marie’s bread it was sae sweet,
An her wine it was sae fine,
That I hae lien in a young man’s arms,
An I rued it aye synsyne.
3
Queen Marie she cam doon the stair,
Wi the goud kamis in her hair:
‘Oh whare, oh whare is the wee wee babe
I heard greetin sae sair?’
4
‘It’s no a babe, a babie fair,
Nor ever intends to be;
But I mysel, wi a sair colic,
Was seek an like to dee.’
5
They socht the bed baith up an doon,
Frae the pillow to the straw,
An there they got the wee wee babe,
But its life was far awa.
6
‘Come doon, come doon, Marie Hamilton,
Come doon an speak to me;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
7
‘You’ll no put on your dowie black,
Nor yet your dowie broun;
But you’ll put on your ried, ried silk,
To shine through Edinborough toun.’
* * * * *
8
‘Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she’ll hae but three;
There was Marie Bethune, an Marie Seaton,
An Marie Carmichael, an me.
9
‘Ah, little did my mother ken,
The day she cradled me,
The lands that I sud travel in,
An the death that I suld dee.’
10
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she has but three;
For the bonniest Marie amang them a’
Was hanged upon a tree.
K
Motherwell’s MS., p. 96; from Jean Macqueen, Largs.
1
Queen Mary had four serving-maids,
As braw as braw could be,
But ane o them has fa’n wi bairn,
And for it she maun die.
2
But whan the babie it was born,
A troubled woman was she;
She rowed it up in a handkerchief,
And flang it in the sea.
3
Out then spoke a bonnie wee burd,
And it spak sharp and keen:
‘O what did ye do wi your wee babie,
Ye had in your arms yestreen?’
4
‘O I tyed it up in a napkin,
And flang it in the sea;
I bade it sink, I bade it soom,
‘Twad get nae mair o me.’
5
Out and spak King Henrie,
And an angry man was he:
‘A’for the drowning o that wee babe
High hanged ye shall be.’
* * * * *
6
‘I’ll no put on a goun o black,
Nor yet a goun o green,
But I’ll put on a goun o gowd,
To glance in young men’s een.
7
‘O gin ye meet my father or mother,
Ye may tell them frae me,
’Twas for the sake o a wee wee bairn
That I came here to die.
8
‘Yestreen four Maries made Queen Mary’s bed,
This nicht there’ll be but three,
A Mary Beaton, a Mary Seaton,
A Mary Carmichael, and me.
9
‘O what will my three brithers say,
When they come hame frae see,
When they see three locks o my yellow hair
Hinging under a gallows-tree!’
L
Motherwell’s MS., p. 280; from the recitation of Mrs Trail of
Paisley.
1
Doun and cam the queen hersell,
Wi the goud links in her hair:
‘O what did you do wi the braw lad bairn
That I heard greet sae sair?’
2
‘There was never a babe into my room,
Nor ever intends to be;
It was but a fit o the sair colic,
That was like to gar me die.’
3
Doun and cam the king himsell,
And an angry man was he:
‘If ye had saved that braw child’s life,
It might hae been an honour to thee.’
4
They socht the chamer up and doun,
And in below the bed,
And there they fand a braw lad-bairn
Lying lapperin in his blood.
5
She rowed it up in her apron green,
And threw it in the sea:
‘Een sink or swim, you braw lad bairn!
Ye’ll neer get mair o me.’
* * * * *
6
When she gaed up the Cannogate,
She gied loud lauchters three;
But or she cam to the Cowgate Head
The tears did blind her ee.
7
‘Come a’ye jovial sailors,
That sail upon the sea,
Tell neither my father nor mother
The death that I’m to die!
8
‘Come a’ye jovial sailors,
That sail upon the main,
See that ye tell baith my father and mother
That I’m coming sailing hame!
9
‘My father he’s the Duke of York,
And my mother’s a gay ladie,
And I mysell a pretty fair lady,
And the king fell in love with me.’
M
Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 19.
1
Then down cam Queen Marie,
Wi gold links in her hair,
Saying, Marie Mild, where is the child,
That I heard greet sae sair?
2
‘There was nae child wi me, madam,
There was nae child wi me;
It was but me in a sair cholic,
When I was like to die.’
3
‘I’m not deceived,’ Queen Marie said,
‘No, no, indeed not I!
So Marie Mild, where is the child?
For sure I heard it cry.’
4
She turned down the blankets fine,
Likewise the Holland sheet,
And underneath, there strangled lay
A lovely baby sweet.
5
‘O cruel mother,’ said the queen,
‘Some fiend possessed thee;
But I will hang thee for this deed,
My Marie tho thou be!’
* * * * *
6
When she cam to the Netherbow Port
She laught loud laughters three;
But when she cam to the gallows-foot,
The saut tear blinded her ee.
7
‘Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,
The night she’ll hae but three;
There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beaton,
And Marie Carmichael, and me.
8
‘Ye mariners, ye mariners,
That sail upon the sea,
Let not my father or mother wit
The death that I maun die!
9
‘I was my parents’ only hope,
They neer had ane but me;
They little thought when I left hame,
They should nae mair me see!’
N
Murison MS., p. 33; from recitation at Old Deer, 1876.
1
The streen the queen had four Maries,
This nicht she’ll hae but three;
There’s Mary Heaton, an Mary Beaton,
An Mary Michel, an me,
An I mysel was Mary Mild,
An flower oer a’the three.
2
Mary’s middle was aye sae neat,
An her clothing aye sae fine,
It caused her lie in a young man’s airms,
An she’s ruet it aye sin syne.
3
She done her doon yon garden green,
To pull the deceivin tree,
For to keep back that young man’s bairn,
But forward it would be.
4
‘Ye winna put on the dowie black,
Nor yet will ye the broon,
But ye’ll put on the robes o red,
To shine through Edinburgh toon.’
5
She hasna pitten on the dowie black,
Nor yet has she the broon,
But she’s pitten on the robes o red,
To shine thro Edinburgh toon.
6
When she came to the mariners’ toon,
The mariners they were playin,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
7
‘Ye needna play for me, mariners,
Ye needna play for me;
Ye never saw grace in a graceless face,
For there’s nane therein to be.
8
‘Seven years an I made Queen Mary’s bed,
Seven years an I combed her hair,
An a hansome reward noo she’s gien to me,
Gien me the gallows-tows to wear!
9
‘Oh little did my mither think,
The day she cradled me,
What road I’d hae to travel in,
Or what death I’d hae to dee!’
O
Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, xix, from recitation.
1
There lived a lord into the south,
And he had dochters three,
And the youngest o them went to the king’s court,
To learn some courtesie.
2
She rowd it in a wee wee clout
. . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
3
She rowd it in a wee wee clout
And flang’t into the faem,
Saying, Sink ye soon, my bonny babe!
I’ll go a maiden hame.
4
‘O woe be to you, ye ill woman,
An ill death may ye die!
Gin ye had spared the sweet baby’s life,
It might hae been an honour to thee.’
5
She wadna put on her gowns o black,
Nor yet wad she o brown,
But she wad put on her gowns o gowd,
To glance through Embro town.
6
‘Come saddle not to me the black,’ she says,
‘Nor yet to me the brown,
But come saddle to me the milk-white steed,
That I may ride in renown.’
P
Kinloch’s MSS, VII, 95, 97.
My father’s the Duke of Argyll,
My mither’s a lady gay,
And I mysel am a dainty dame,
And the king desired me.
He schawd [me] up, he shawed me doun,
He schawd me to the ha;
He schawd me to the low cellars,
And that was waurst of a’.
Q
Letters from and to Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, ed. Allardyce, 1888,
II, 272, in a letter from Sharpe to W. Scott [1823].
1
The Duke of York was my father,
My mother a lady free,
Myself a dainty damosell,
Queen Marie sent for me.
2
The queen’s meat it was sae sweet,
Her cleiding was sae rare,
It gart me grien for sweet Willie,
And I’ll rue it evermair.
R
Burns, in a letter to Mrs Dunlop, January 25, 1790; Currie, II, 290,
1800.
Little did my mother think,
That day she cradled me,
What land I was to travel in,
Or what death I should die!
* * * * *
#A. b.#
1.
There’s news is gaen in the kitchen,
There’s news is gaen in the ha,
There’s news is gaen in the laigh cellar,
And that was warst of a’.
2.
There’s news is gaen in the kitchen,
There’s news is gaen in the ha’,
That Mary Hamilton’s gotten a wean,
And that was warst of a’.
3^1. She’s rowed.
3^2. She’s cuist it.
3^3. My bonnie bairn ga sink or swim.
3^4. Ye’s no hear mair.
4^1. Then doon.
4^2. Wi tasslets.
4^3. Cri’n, M. H., whaur’s the bairn.
4^4. That _wanting_.
5^1. There’s no a bairn in a’ the toon.
5^2. Nor yet.
5^3. ’Twas but a steek in.
6^1. And ye maun.
6^4. And ye maun awa wi me the morn.
7^1. I’se no.
7^4. To see fair.
8^1. And when.
8^3. And when.
8^4. tear stood in.
9^1. And when.
9^2. heel slipped off.
9^3. And when she cam doon the Parliament stair.
10, 11 _wanting._
12^1. But bring: she cried.
13^1, 14^1. And here’s to the jolly sailor lad.
13^2, 14^2. sails: faem.
13^3. And let not my father nor mother get wit.
13^4. that I shall come again.
14^3. But let, _as in_ 13^3.
14^4. O the death that I maun dee.
15, 16 _wanting._
17^1. auld queen’s.
17^2. And I laid her gently.
17^3. I hae gotten the day.
17^4. Is to.
18^1. night the queen had.
18^2. This night she’ll hae.
18^4. M. Beton and M. Seton.
#c.#
_Begins_:
This nicht the queen has four Maries,
Each fair as she can be;
There’s Marie Seton, etc.
3^1. The bairn’s tyed.
3^2. And thrown intill.
4^3. O sink.
_After 3_:
Oh I have born this bonnie wee babe
Wi mickle toil and pain;
Gae hame, gae hame, you bonnie wee babe!
For nurse I dare be nane.
4^1. Then down cam Queen Marie.
4^3. Saying, Marie mild, where is the babe.
5^1. There was nae babe.
5^2. There was na babe wi me.
5^3. o a sair cholic.
_After_ 5 (_mostly spurious_):
The queen turned down the blankets fine,
Likewise the snae-white sheet,
And what she saw caused her many a tear,
And made her sair to greet.
O cruel mither, said the queen,
A fiend possessed thee:
But I will hang thee for this deed,
My Marie though thou be.
_After_ 7:
And some they mounted the black steed,
And some mounted the brown,
But Marie mounted her milk-white steed,
And rode foremost thro the town.
8^3. But when.
_After_ 12:
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she’ll hae but three;
There was M. S., and M. B.
And M. C., and me.
13 _wanting._
14^1. Ye mariners, ye mariners.
14^3. L[et] not my father and mother wit.
14^4. The death that I maun dee.
_After_ 14:
I was my parents’ only hope,
They neer had ane but me;
They little thought, when I left hame,
They should nae mair me see.
17 _wanting._
18^1. there were.
_Largely taken from #a#, 1, 2, 6–12, 15, 16 being literally
repeated._
#B.#
3^3. us up.
8^{5,6}. _wrongly_:
And we’ll ride into Edinburgh town,
High hanged thou shalt be.
#C.#
9^2. _Altered from_ I’ll put on my brown. _Var. between_ 9^2 _and_
9^3:
Nor I’ll no put on my suddling silks,
That I wear up and down.
up and down _altered from_ ilka day.
10^1. went _altered from_ gaed.
13^1, 14^1. Oh.
#D.#
_From two reciters, which accounts for the alterations and
insertions._
1^1. _Altered from_ There was a lord lived in the north.
2^1. _Altered from_ And the third.
2^3. _Altered from_ that he.
4^1. gay _added later_.
4^2. _Altered from_ And pued the saving tree.
4^3. for _inserted later_.
4^4. it _inserted later_.
7^3. a fit o _inserted later_.
7^4. _Altered from_ I am just.
9. _After 9, Motherwell wrote_ A stanza wanting, _and subsequently
added 10, 11_.
12^3. _Originally_, gold stars.
13. _Originally_,
She did not put on her robes of black,
Nor yet her robes of brown,
But she put on her yellow gold stars (stays?).
14. _Originally_,
And when she came into Edinborugh, (bad reading)
And standing at the cross,
There she saw all the coblers’ wifes,
Sat greeting at the cross.
15^{3,4}. _Originally_, For I am come to, etc., Weeded for to be.
_A marginal note by Motherwell, opposite the last line, but
erased, has_ A rich wedding to sie.
16^1. stair _altered from_ close.
19, 20. _Written in the margin, after those_ which follow.
23^{3,4} _and_ And, 23^5, _are of later insertion_.
#E.#
_For the seven stanzas after_ 15, _see_ No 95, II, 346.
#F.#
3.
Mary Beaton & Mary Seaton & Lady Livinston
Three we’ll [_or_ will] never meet
In queen Mary’s bower
Now Maries tho ye be.
13^2. then cryed.
14^1. had your.
18^4. pine.
_For the six stanzas after_ 18, _see_ No 95, II, 346.
#G.#
1^1. Oh.
#H.#
_3, 16, 17, 22 are put into smaller type as being evidently
spurious._
#I. a.#
_24 is certainly spurious, and reduces the pathos exceedingly._
#b.#
18^4. tear.
23.
O ye mariners, mariners, mariners,
That sail upon the sea,
Let not my father nor mother to wit
The death that I maun die!
#K.#
From Jean Macqueen, Largo, _in the MS_. “More likely to be Largs,
which is on the Clyde, than Largo, on the east coast”: _note of
Mr J. B. Murdoch_.
4^1. Oh.
6 _is the last stanza but one in the MS._
#L.#
9 _might better be_ 1.
#N.#
_Variations._
1^{3–6}.
There’s Mary Beaton, an Mary Seaton,
An Mary Carmichael, an me;
An I mysel, Queen Mary’s maid,
Was flower oer a’ the three.
2^1. sae jimp.
2^3. She loved to lie.
3^2. the savin tree.
3^{3,4}.
But the little wee babe came to her back,
An forward it would be.
8 _is_ _4 in the MS_.
#O.#
“The unfortunate heroine’s name is Mary Moil”: Finlay, p. xix.
174
EARL BOTHWELL
‘Earle Bodwell,’ Percy MS., p. 272; Hales and Furnivall, II, 260.
Printed in Percy’s Reliques, with changes, 1765, II, 197, ‘The Murder of
the King of Scots;’ with some restorations of the original readings,
1794, II, 200.
This ballad represents, 8, 13, that the murder of Darnley was done in
revenge for his complicity in the murder of Riccio; in which there may
be as much truth as this, that the queen’s resentment of Darnley’s
participation in that horrible transaction may have been operative in
inducing her assent—such assent as she gave—to the conspiracy against
the life of her husband.
2. Darnley came to Scotland in February, 1565 (being then but just
turned of nineteen), not sent for, but very possibly with some hope of
pleasing his cousin, ‘the queen [dowager] of France,’ to whom he was
married in the following July. His inglorious career was closed in
February, 1567.
5. On the fatal evening of the ninth of March, 1566, Riccio was sitting
in the queen’s cabinet with his cap on; “and this sight was perhaps the
more offensive that a few Scotsmen of good rank seem to have been in
attendance as domestics.”[252]
6. The ballad should not be greatly in excess as to the number of the
daggers, since Riccio had fifty-six [fifty-two] wounds.
7. After Riccio had been dragged out of the queen’s cabinet, Darnley
fell to charging the queen with change in her ways with him since “yon
fellow Davie fell in credit and familiarity” with her. In answer to his
reproaches and interpellations her Majesty said to him that he was to
blame for all the shame that was done to her; “for the which I shall
never be your wife nor lie with you, nor shall never like well till I
gar you have as sore a heart as I have presently.”[253]
9–14. A large quantity of powder was fired in the room below that in
which “the worthy king” slept, but the body of Darnley and that of his
servant were found lying at a considerable distance from the house,
without any marks of having been subject to the explosion. One theory of
the circumstances was that the two had been strangled in their beds, and
removed before the train was lighted; another account is that Darnley,
who would naturally hear some stir in the house, made his escape with
his page, but “was intercepted and strangled after a desperate
resistance, his cries for mercy being heard by some women in the nearest
house.”[254] Bothwell, though the author of all these proceedings and
personally superintending the execution of them, did not openly appear.
It will be observed that King James says that his father [MS. mother]
was hanged on a tree, in ‘King James and Brown,’ No 180, 8^2.
Bothwell and Huntly, who by virtue of their offices had apartments in
the palace, not being in sympathy with the conspirators, are said in the
Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 90, to have broken through a window, in fear
of their lives, and to have let themselves down by a cord. Bothwell, as
the champion of the queen against the confederate lords, might naturally
be supposed by the minstrel to take a personal interest in revenging
Riccio.
15, 16. The Regent Murray is here described as ‘bitterly banishing’
Mary, wherefore she durst not remain in Scotland, but fled to England.
The queen escaped from Lochleven Castle on the second of May, 1568, and
took refuge in England on the sixteenth. We must suppose the ballad to
have been made not long after.
Translated by Bodmer, II, 51, from Percy’s Reliques.
1
Woe worth thee, woe worth thee, false Scottlande!
Ffor thou hast eu_er_ wrought by a sleight;
For the worthyest prince _tha_t euer was borne,
You hanged vnder a cloud by night.
2
The Queene of France a letter wrote,
And sealed itt w_i_th hart and ringe,
And bade him come Scottland w_i_thin,
And shee wold marry him and crowne him k_ing_.
3
To be a k_ing_, itt is a pleasant thing,
To bee a prince vnto a peere;
But you haue heard, and so haue I too,
A man may well by gold to deere.
4
There was an Italyan in that place,
Was as wel beloued as euer was hee;
Lo_rd_ David was his name,
Chamberlaine vnto the queene was hee.
5
Ffor if the king had risen forth of his place,
He wold haue sitt him downe in the cheare,
And tho itt beseemed him not soe well,
Altho the king had beene p_re_sent there.
6
Some lords in Scottland waxed wonderous wroth,
And quarrelld w_i_th him for the nonce;
I shall you tell how itt beffell,
Twelue daggers were in him all att once.
7
When this queene see the chamberlaine was slaine,
For him her cheeks shee did weete,
And made a vow for a twelue month and a day
The k_ing_ and shee wold not come in one sheete.
8
Then some of the lo_rd_s of Scottland waxed wrothe,
And made their vow vehementlye,
‘For death of the queenes chamberlaine
The k_ing_ himselfe he shall dye.’
9
They strowed his chamber ou_er_ w_i_th gunpowder,
And layd greene rushes in his way;
Ffor the traitors thought _tha_t night
The worthy king for to betray.
10
To bedd the worthy k_ing_ made him bowne,
To take his rest, _tha_t was his desire;
He was noe sooner cast on sleepe,
But his chamber was on a blasing fyer.
11
Vp he lope, and a glasse window broke,
He had thirty foote for to ffall;
Lo_rd_ Bodwell kept a priuy wach
Vnderneath his castle-wall:
‘Who haue wee heere?’ sayd Lo_rd_ Bodwell;
‘Answer me, now I doe call.’
12
‘K_ing_ Henery the Eighth my vnckle was;
Some pitty show for his sweet sake!
Ah, Lo_rd_ Bodwell, I know thee well;
Some pitty on me I pray thee take!’
13
‘I’le pitty thee as much,’ he sayd,
‘And as much favor I’le show to thee
As thou had on the queene’s chamberlaine
_Tha_t day thou deemedst him to dye.’
14
Through halls and towers this k_ing_ they ledd,
Through castles and towers _tha_t were hye,
Through an arbor into an orchard,
And there hanged him in a peare tree.
15
When the gou_er_nor of Scottland he heard tell
_Tha_t the worthye king he was slaine,
He hath banished the queene soe bitterlye
_Tha_t in Scottland shee dare not remaine.
16
But shee is ffled into merry England,
And Scottland to a side hath laine,
And through the Queene of Englands good grace
Now in England shee doth remaine.
* * * * *
6^2. noncett, _with_ tt _blotted out. (?) Furnivall_.
6^4, 7^3. 12. 10^3. sleepee.
11^2. 30.
12^1. 8[th .].
13^1. _Partly pared away. Furnivall._
16^2. to aside.
175
THE RISING IN THE NORTH
‘Risinge in the Northe,’ Percy MS., p. 256; Hales and Furnivall, II,
210.
Printed in Percy’s Reliques, 1765, I, 250, “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.” Bearing in mind Percy’s express
avowal that he “must plead guilty to the charge of concealing his own
share in amendments under some such general title as a modern copy, or
the like,” one would conclude without hesitation that there was but a
single authentic text in this case, as in others. Percy notes on the
margin of his manuscript: “N.B. To correct this by my other copy, which
seems more modern. The other copy in many parts preferable to this.” But
this note would seem to be a private memorandum. Or are we to suppose
that Percy might employ, from habit perhaps, the same formula, not to
say artifice, with himself as with the public? In notes in the Folio to
‘Northumberland betrayed by Douglas’ (No 176), Percy speaks of a second
copy of that ballad also as being in his possession, and describes it as
containing much which is omitted in the other, and as beginning like
‘The Earl of Westmoreland,’ (No 177). Of the beginning of this last he
says, in a note in the Folio, “these lines are given in one of my _old_
copies to Lord Northumberland.” “Old copies” is staggering; for any one
who examines the variations of the texts in the Reliques from the texts
in the Folio will find them of the same character and style as Percy’s
acknowledged improvements of other ballads, and will be compelled to
impute them to the editor or his double.[255]
The earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, having for a time
succeeded, by exuberant professions, in allaying very sufficiently
grounded suspicions of their loyal dealing, at last, upon receiving the
Queen’s summons to London, found compliance unsafe, and went into
rebellion. They took this step with but half a heart and against their
judgment, overcome by the clamor and urgency of a portion of their
fellow-conspirators. The intent of the insurgents was, in
Northumberland’s own words, “the reformation of religion, and the
preservation of the Queen of Scots, whom they accounted by God’s law and
man’s law to be right heir, if want should be of issue of the Queen’s
Majesty’s body.” These two causes, they were confident, were favored by
the larger number of noblemen within the realm.[256] Protestantism had
no hold in the north, and the Queen’s officers in those parts were, for
the moment, not strong enough to make opposition. With leaders of energy
and military skill, and a good chest to draw upon,[257] the rising would
have been highly dangerous. As things were, it collapsed in five weeks
without the shedding of a drop of blood; but hundreds of simple people
were subsequently hanged.