might be so interpreted as to signify that Ker did not act in this
dreadful business entirely upon his own responsibility; and the second
of the four writers who speak circumstantially of the affair even
intimates that Ker applied to his superior for instructions. On the
other hand, the author of the History of James the Sixth says distinctly
that the house was fired by the command of Ker, whose soldiers were
rendered impatient by an obstinate refusal to surrender, accompanied
with opprobrious words. The oldest of the ballads, also, which is nearly
coeval with the occurrence, speaks only of Captain Car, knows nothing of
Adam Gordon. On the other hand, Bannatyne knows nothing, or chooses to
say nothing, of Captain Car: Adam Gordon burns the house, and even does
this during a truce. It may be said that, even if the act were done
without the orders or knowledge of Adam Gordon, he deserves all the ill
fame which has fallen to him, for not punishing, or at least
discharging, the perpetrator of such an outrage. But this would be
applying the standards of the nineteenth century (and its very best
standards) to the conduct of the sixteenth. It may be doubted whether
there was at that time a man in Scotland, nay, even a man in Europe, who
would have turned away a valuable servant because he had cruelly
exceeded his instructions.[278]
A favorable construction, where the direct evidence is conflicting, is
due to Adam Gordon because of his behavior on two other occasions, one
immediately preceding, and the other soon following, the burning of the
house of Towie. We are told that he used his victory at Crabstone “very
moderately, and suffered no man to be killed after the fury of the fight
was past. Alexander Forbes of Strath-gar-neck, author of all these
troubles betwixt these two families, was taken at this battle, and as
they were going to behead him Auchindown caused stay his execution. He
entertained the Master of Forbes and the rest of the prisoners with
great kindness and courtesy, he carried the Master of Forbes along with
him to Strathbogie, and in end gave him and all the rest leave to
depart.”[279] And again, after another success in a fight called The
Bourd of Brechin, in the ensuing July, he caused all the prisoners to be
brought before him, they expecting nothing but death, and said to them:
“My friends and brethren, have in remembrance how God has granted to me
victory and the upper hand of you, granting me the same vantage [‘vand
and sching’] to punish you wherewith my late father and brother were
punished at the Bank of Fair; and since, of the great slaughter made on
the Queen’s Grace’s true subjects, and most filthily of the hanging of
my soldiers here by the Earl of Lennox; and since, by the hanging of ten
men in Leith, with other unlawful acts done contrary to the laws of
arms; and I doubt not, if I were under their dominion, as you are under
mine, that I should die the death most cruelly. Yet notwithstanding, my
good brethren and countrymen, be not afraid nor fear not, for at this
present ye shall incur no danger of your bodies, but shall be treated as
brethren, and I shall do to you after the commandment of God, in doing
good for evil, forgetting the cruelty done to the queen and her faithful
subjects, and receiving you as her faithful subjects in time coming. Who
promised to do the same, and for assurance hereof each found surety.
After which the Regent past hastily out of Sterling to Dundee, charging
all manner of man to follow him, with twenty days victuals, against the
said Adam Gordon. But there would never a man in those parts obey the
charge, by reason of the bond made before and of the great gentleness of
the said Adam.”[280]
After the Pacification of February, 1573, Adam Gordon obtained license
to go to France and other parts beyond sea, for certain years, on
condition of doing or procuring nothing to the hurt of the realm of
Scotland; but for private practices of his, contrary to his promise, in
conjunction with Captain Ker and others, he was ordered to return home,
12th May, 1574. His brother, the Earl of Huntly, upon information of
these unlawful practices in France, was committed to ward, and when
released from ward had to give security to the amount of £20,000. Adam
Gordon returned in July, 1575, “at the command of the regent,” with
twenty gentlemen who had gone to France with him, and was in ward in
1576. He died at St. Johnston in October, 1580, “of a bleeding.” As he
was of tender age in 1562, he must still have been a young man.[281]
Thomas Ker was a captain “of men of war”; that is, a professional
soldier. As such he is mentioned in one of the articles of the
Pacification, where it is declared that Captain Thomas Ker, Captain
James Bruce, and Captain Gilbert Wauchop, with their respective
lieutenants and ensigns, and two other persons, “shall be comprehended
in this present pacification, as also all the soldiers who served under
their charges, for deeds of hostility and crimes committed during the
present troubles.” He was accused of being engaged in practices against
the regency, as we have already seen, in 1574. He was released from ward
upon caution in February, 1575. 1578, 26th July, he was summoned to
appear before the king and council to answer to such things as should be
inquired of him. He is mentioned as a burgher of Aberdeen 1588, 1591.
1593, 3d March, he is required to give caution to the amount of 1000
merks that he will not assist the earls of Huntly and Errol. His
“counsail and convoy was chiefly usit” in an important matter at
Balrinnes in 1594, at which battle he “behavit himself so valiantly”
that he was knighted on the field. November 4, 1594, Captain Thomas Ker
and James Ker, his brother, are ordered to be denounced as rebels,
having failed to appear to answer touching their treasonable assistance
to George, sometime Earl of Huntly; and this seems to be the latest
notice of him that has been recovered.[282]
In the Genealogy of the family of Forbes drawn up by Matthew Lumsden in
1580, and continued to 1667 by William Forbes, p. 43 f., ed. 1819, we
read: “John Forbes of Towie married —— Grant, daughter to John Grant of
Bandallach, who did bear to him a son who was unmercifullie murdered in
the castle of Corgaffe; and after the decease of Bandallach’s daughter,
the said John Forbes married Margaret Campbell, daughter to Sir John
Campbell of Calder, knight, who did bear him three sons, Alex. Forbes of
Towie, John Forbes, thereafter of Towie, and William Forbes.... The said
John Forbes of Towie, after the murder of Margaret Campbell, married ——
Forbes, a daughter to the Reires,” by whom he had a son, who, as also a
son of his own, died in Germany. Alexander and William, sons of Margaret
Campbell, died without succession, and by the death of an only son of
John, junior, the house of Towie became extinct. “The rest of the said
Margaret Campbell’s bairns, with herself, were unmercifullie murdered in
the castle of Corgaffe.”[283]
According to the Lumsden genealogy, then, Margaret Campbell, with her
younger children, and also a son of her husband, John Forbes of Towie,
by a former marriage, were murdered at the castle of Corgaffe. Corgarf
is a place “exigui nominis,” some fifteen miles west of Towie, and, so
far as is known, there is nothing to connect this place with the Forbes
family.[284] Three sixteenth-century accounts, and a fourth by an
historian who was born before the event, make Towie to be the scene of
the “murder,” and Towie we know to have been in the possession of a
member of the house of Forbes for several generations. Since Lumsden
wrote only nine years after the event, and was more particularly
concerned with the Forbes family than any of the other writers referred
to, his statement cannot be peremptorily set aside. But we may owe
Corgarf to the reviser of 1667, although he professes not to have
altered the substance of his predecessor’s work.
Reverting now to the ballad, we observe that none of the seven versions,
of which one is put towards the end of the sixteenth century, one is of
the seventeenth century, two are of the eighteenth, and the remainder
from tradition of the present century, lay the scene at Towie. #E#,
which is of this century, has Cargarf. #A#, #B#, the oldest copies (both
English), give no name to the castle. Crecrynbroghe in #A#,
Bittonsborrow in #B#, are not the name of the castle that is burned, but
of a castle suggested for a winter retirement by one of Car’s men, and
rejected by the captain. The fragment #C# (English again) also names no
place. #D# transfers the scene from the north to the house of Rodes,
near Dunse, in Berwickshire, and #F#, #G# to Loudoun castle in Ayrshire;
the name of Gordon probably helping to the localizing of the ballad in
the former case, and that of Campbell, possibly, in the other.
Captain Car is the leader of the bloody band in #A#, #B#; he is lord of
Eastertown #A# 6, 13, of Westertown #B# 5, 9; but ‘Adam’ is said to fire
the house in #B# 14. Adam Gordon is the captain in #C-G#. The sufferers
are in #A# Hamiltons,[285] in #F#, #G#, Campbells. The name Forbes is
not preserved in any version.
#A#, #B#. Martinmas weather forces Captain Car to look for a hold.
Crecrynbroghe, #A#, Bittonsborrow, #B#, is proposed, but he knows of a
castle where there is a fair lady whose lord is away, and makes for
that. The lady sees from the wall a host of men riding towards the
castle, and thinks her lord is coming home, but it was the traitor
Captain Car. By supper-time he and his men have lighted about the place.
Car calls to the lady to give up the house; she shall lie in his arms
that night, and the morrow heir his land. She will not give up the
house, but fires on Car and his men. [Orders are given to burn the
house.] The lady entreats Car to save her eldest son. Lap him in a sheet
and let him down, says Car; and when this is done, cuts out tongue and
heart, ties them in a handkerchief, and throws them over the wall. The
youngest son begs his mother to surrender, for the smoke is smothering
him. She would give all her gold and fee for a wind to blow the smoke
away; but the fire falls about her head, and she and her children are
burned to death. Captain Car rides away, #A#. The lord of the castle
dreams, learns by a letter, at London, that his house has been fired,
and hurries home. He finds the hall still burning, and breaks out into
expressions of grief, #A#. In #B#, half of which has been torn from the
manuscript, after reading the letter he says he will find Car wherever
Car may be, and, long ere day, comes to Dractonsborrow, where the
miscreant is. If nine or ten stanzas were not lost at this point, we
should no doubt learn of the revenge that was taken.
In the short fragment #C#, upon surrender being demanded, reply is made
by a shot which kills seven of the beleaguerers. An only daughter,
smothered by the reek, asks her mother to give up the house. Rather
would I see you burnt to ashes, says the mother. The boy on the nurse’s
knee makes the same appeal; her mother would sooner see him burnt than
give up her house to be Adam of Gordon’s whore.
#D# makes the lady try fair speeches with Gordon, and the lady does not
reply with firearms to the proposal that she shall lie by his side.
Nevertheless she has spirit enough to say, when her youngest son
beseeches her to give up the house, Come weal, come woe, you must take
share with me. The daughter, and not the eldest son, is wrapped in
sheets and let down the wall; she gets a fall on the point of Gordon’s
spear. Then follow deplorable interpolations, beginning with st. 19.
Edom o Gordon, having turned the girl over with his spear, and wished
her alive, turns her owr and owr again! He orders his men to busk and
away, for he cannot look on the bonnie face. One of his men hopes he
will not be daunted with a dame, and certainly three successive
utterances in the way of sentiment show that the captain needs a little
toning up. At this point the lord of the castle is coming over the lea,
and sees that his castle is in flames. He and his men put on at their
best rate; lady and babes are dead ere the foremost arrives; they go at
the Gordons, and but five of fifty of these get away.
And _round and round_ the wae’s he went,
_Their ashes for to view_:
_At last_ into the flames he flew,
And bad the world adieu.
This is superior to turning her owr and owr again, and indeed, in its
way, not to be improved.
Nothing need be said of the fragment #E# further than that the last
stanza is modern.
#F# is purely traditional, and has one fine stanza not found in any of
the foregoing:
Out then spake the lady Margaret,
As she stood on the stair;
The fire was at her goud garters,
The lowe was at her hair.
There is no firing at the assailants (though the lady wishes that her
only son could charge a gun). Lady Margaret, with the flame in her hair,
would give the black and the brown for a drink of the stream that she
sees below. Anne asks to be rowed in a pair of sheets and let down the
wall; her mother says that she must stay and die with her. Lord Thomas,
on the nurse’s knee, says, Give up, or the reek will choke me. The
mother would rather be burned to small ashes than give up the castle,
her lord away. And burnt she is with her children nine.
#G# has the eighteen stanzas of #F#,[286] neglecting slight variations,
and twenty more (among them the bad #D# 21), nearly all superfluous, and
one very disagreeable. Lady Campbell, having refused to “come down” and
be “kept” (caught) on a feather-bed, 5, 6, is ironically asked by Gordon
to come down and be kept on the point of his sword, 7. Since you will
not come down, says Gordon, fire your death shall be. The lady had
liefer be burnt to small ashes than give up the castle while her lord is
from home, 10. Fire is set. The oldest daughter asks to be rolled in a
pair of sheets and flung over the wall. She gets a deadly fall on the
point of Gordon’s sword, and is turned over and over again, 18, over and
over again, 19. Lady Margaret cries that the fire is at her garters and
the flame in her hair. Lady Ann, from childbed where she lies, asks her
mother to give up the castle, and is told that she must stay and dree
her death with the rest. The youngest son asks his mother to go down,
and has the answer that was given Gordon in 10. The waiting-maid begs to
have a baby of hers saved; her lady’s long hair is burnt to her brow,
and how can she take it? So the babe is rolled in a feather-bed and
flung over the wall, and gets a deadly fall on the point of Gordon’s
ever-ready sword. Several ill-connected stanzas succeed, three of which
are clearly recent, and then pity for Lady Ann Campbell, who was burnt
with her nine bairns. Lord Loudon comes home a “sorry” man, but comforts
himself with tearing Gordon with wild horses.
A slight episode has been passed over. It is a former servant of the
family that breaks through the house-wall and kindles the fire, #A# 21,
#D# 12–14, #F# 5, 6, #G# 13, 14. In all but #A# he makes the excuse that
he is now Gordon’s man, and must do or die.
There is a Danish ballad of about 1600 (communicated to me by Svend
Grundtvig, and, I think, not yet printed) in which Karl grevens søn, an
unsuccessful suitor of Lady Linild, burns Lady Linild in her bower, and
taking refuge in Maribo church, is there burned himself by Karl
kejserens søn, Lady Linild’s preferred lover. See also ‘Liden Engel,’
under ‘Fause Foodrage,’ No 89, II, 298.
The copy in Percy’s Reliques is translated by Bodmer, I, 126, and by
Doenninges, p. 69; Pinkerton’s copy by Grundtvig, No 9, and by
Loève-Veimars, p. 307; Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 13, apparently
translates Allingham’s.
A
Cotton MS. Vespasian, A. xxv, No 67, fol. 187; Furnivall, in
Transactions of the New Shakspere Society, 1880–86, Appendix, p.
52†.
1
It befell at Martynmas,
When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care said to his me_n_,
We must go take a holde.
Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,
And sike and like to die;
The sikest nighte that eu_er_ I abode,
God lord haue m_er_cy on me!
2
‘Haille, m_aste_r, and wether you will,
And wether ye like it best;’
‘To the castle of Crecrynbroghe,
And there we will take o_ur_ reste.’
3
‘I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is builded of lyme and stone;
Within their is a gay ladie,
Her lord is riden and gone.’
4
The ladie she lend on her castle-walle,
She loked vpp and downe;
There was she ware of an host of me_n_,
Come riding to the towne.
5
‘Se yow, my meri men all,
And se yow what I see?
Yonder I see an host of me_n_,
I muse who they bee.’
6
She thought he had ben her wed lord,
As he comd riding home;
Then was it trait_ur_ Captaine Care
The lord of Ester-towne.
7
They wer no son_er_ at supper sett,
Then after said the grace,
Or Captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.
8
‘Gyue ou_er_ thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande;
To-nighte thou shall ly w_i_t_h_in my arm_es_,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande.’
9
The_n_ bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde:
O mother dere, geue ou_er_ y_our_ howsse,
Or ell_es_ we shalbe deade.
10
‘I will not geue ou_er_ my hous,’ she saithe,
‘Not for feare of my lyffe;
It shalbe talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe.
11
‘Fetch me my pestilett,
And charge me my gonne,
That I may shott at yonder bloddy butcher,
The lord of Easter-towne.’
12
Styfly vpon her wall she stode,
And lett the pellett_es_ flee;
But then she myst the blody bucher,
And she slew other three.
13
‘[I will] not geue ou_er_ my hous,’ she saithe,
‘Netheir for lord nor lowne;
Nor yet for traito_ur_ Captaine Care,
The lord of Easter-towne.
14
‘I desire of Captine Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would saue my eldest sonne,
The eare of all my lande.’
15
‘Lap him in a shete,’ he sayth,
‘And let him downe to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran shall I be.’
16
The captayne sayd unto him selfe:
Wyth sped, before the rest,
He cut his tonge out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.
17
He lapt them in a handkerchef,
And knet it of knot_es_ three,
And cast them ouer the castell-wall,
At that gay ladye.
18
‘Fye vpon the, Captayne Care,
And all thy bloddy band!
For th_o_u hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land.’
19
Then bespake the yongest sonne,
Th_a_t sat on the nurses knee,
Sayth, Mother gay, geue ouer your house;
It smoldereth me.
20
‘I wold geue my gold,’ she saith,
‘And so I wolde my ffee,
For a blaste of the westryn wind,
To dryue the smoke from thee.
21
‘Fy vpo_n_ the, John Hamleton,
That euer I paid the hyre!
For th_o_u hast broken my castle-wall,
And kyndled in the ffyre.’
22
The lady gate to her close p_ar_ler,
The fire fell aboute her head;
She toke vp her childre_n_ thre,
Seth, Bab_es_, we are all dead.
23
Then bespake the hye steward,
Th_a_t is of hye degree;
Saith, Ladie gay, you are in close,
Wether ye fighte or flee.
24
Lord Hamleto_n_ dremd in his dream,
In Caruall where he laye,
His halle were all of fyre,
His ladie slayne or daye.
25
‘Busk and bowne, my mery me_n_ all,
Eve_n_ and go ye with me;
For I dremd th_a_t my haal was on fyre,
My lady slayne or day.’
26
He buskt him and bownd hym,
And like a worthi knighte;
And when he saw his hall burni_n_g,
His harte was no dele lighte.
27
He sett a tru_m_pett till his mouth,
He blew as it plesd his grace;
Twe_n_ty score of Ha_m_lentons
Was light aboute the place.
28
‘Had I knowne as much yesternighte
As I do to-daye,
Captaine Care and all his me_n_
Should not haue gone so quite.
29
‘Fye vpon the, Captaine Care,
And all thy blody band_e_!
Thou haste slayne my lady gay,
More w_u_rth the_n_ all thy lande.
30
‘If th_o_u had ought eny ill will,’ he saith,
‘Thou shoulde haue taken my lyffe,
And haue saved my children thre,
All and my louesome wyffe.’
B
Percy MS., p. 34; Hales and Furnivall, I, 79.
1
‘Ffa_i_th, m_aster_, whither you will,
Whereas you like the best;
Vnto the castle of Bittons-borrow,
And there to take yo_u_r rest.’
2
‘But yonder stands a castle faire,
Is made of lyme and stone;
Yonder is in it a fayre lady,
Her lord is ridden and gone.’
3
The lady stood on her castle-wall,
She looked vpp and downe;
She was ware of an hoast of men,
Came rydinge towards the towne.
4
‘See you not, my merry men all,
And see you not what I doe see?
Methinks I see a hoast of men;
I muse who they shold be.’
5
She thought it had beene her louly l_ord_,
He had come ryding home;
It was the traitor, Captaine Carre,
The lord of Westerton-towne.
6
They had noe sooner sup_er_ sett,
And after said the grace,
But the traitor, Captaine Carre,
Was light about the place.
7
‘Giue over thy house, thou lady gay,
I will make thee a band;
All night w_i_t_h_-in mine armes thou’st lye,
To-morrow be the heyre of my land.’
8
‘I’le not giue over my house,’ shee said,
‘Neither for ladds nor man,
Nor yet for traitor Captaine Carre,
Vntill my lord come home.
9
‘But reach me my pistoll pe[c]e,
And charge you well my gunne;
I’le shoote at the bloody bucher,
The lord of Westerton.’
10
She stood vppon her castle-wall
And let the bulletts flee,
And where shee mist . .
. . . . . .
11
But then bespake the litle child,
That sate on the nurses knee;
Saies, Mother deere, giue ore this house,
For the smoake it smoothers me.
12
‘I wold giue all my gold, my childe,
Soe wold I doe all my fee,
For one blast of the westerne wind
To blow the smoke from thee.’
13
But when shee saw the fier
Came flaming ore her head,
Shee tooke then vpp her children two,
Sayes, Babes, we all beene dead!
14
But Adam then he fired the house,
A sorrowfull sight to see;
Now hath he burned this lady faire
And eke her children three.
15
Then Captaine Carre he rode away,
He staid noe longer at that tide;
He thought that place it was to warme
Soe neere for to abide.
16
He calld vnto his merry men all,
Bidd them make hast away;
‘For we haue slaine his children three,
All and his lady gay.’
17
Worde came to louly London,
To London wheras her lord lay,
His castle and his hall was burned,
All and his lady gay.
18
‘Soe hath he done his children three,
More dearer vnto him
Then either the siluer or the gold,
That men soe faine wold win.
19
But when he looket this writing on,
Lord, in is hart he was woe!
Saies, I will find thee, Captaine Carre,
Wether thou ryde or goe!
20
Buske yee, bowne yee, my merrymen all,
W_i_th tempered swords of steele,
For till I haue found out Captaine Carre,
My hart it is nothing weele.
21
But when he came to Dractons-borrow,
Soe long ere it was day,
And ther he found him Captaine Carre;
That night he ment to stay.
* * * * *
C
Communicated to Percy by Robert Lambe, Norham, October 4, 1766,
being all that a servant of Lambe’s could remember.
* * * * *
1
‘Luk ye to yon hie castel,
Yon hie castel we see;
A woman’s wit’s sun oercum,
She’ll gie up her house to me.’
2
She ca’d to her merry men a’,
‘Bring me my five pistols and my lang gun;’
The first shot the fair lady shot,
She shot seven of Gordon’s men.
3
He turned round about his back,
And sware he woud ha his desire,
And if that castel was built of gowd,
It should gang a’to fire.
4
Up then spak her doughter deere,
She had nae mair than she:
‘Gie up your house, now, mither deere,
The reek it skomfishes me.’
5
‘I d rather see you birnt,’ said she,
‘And doun to-ashes fa,
Ere I gie up my house to Adam of Gordon,
And to his merry men a’.
6
‘I’ve four and twenty kye
Gaing upo the muir;
I’d gie em for a blast of wind,
The reek it blaws sae sour.’
7
Up then spak her little young son,
Sits on the nourrice knee:
‘Gie up your house, now, mither deere,
The reek it skomfishes me.’
8
‘I’ve twenty four ships
A sailing on the sea;
I’ll gie em for a blast of southern wind,
To blaw the reek frae thee.
9
‘I’d rather see you birnt,’ said she,
‘And grund as sma as flour,
Eer I gie up my noble house,
To be Adam of Gordon’s hure.’
* * * * *
D
Robert and Andrew Foulis, Glasgow, 1755; “as preserved in the memory
of a lady.”
1
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew schrile and cauld,
Said Edom o Gordon to his men,
We maun draw to a hald.
2
‘And what an a hald sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house of the Rhodes,
To see that fair lady.’
3
She had nae sooner busket her sell,
Nor putten on her gown,
Till Edom o Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.
4
They had nae sooner sitten down,
Nor sooner said the grace,
Till Edom o Gordon and his men
Were closed about the place.
5
The lady ran up to her tower-head,
As fast as she could drie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could with him agree.
6
As soon he saw the lady fair,
And hir yates all locked fast,
He fell into a rage of wrath,
And his heart was aghast.
7
‘Cum down to me, ye lady fair,
Cum down to me; let’s see;
This night ye’s ly by my ain side,
The morn my bride sall be.’
8
‘I winnae cum down, ye fals Gordon,
I winnae cum down to thee;
I winnae forsake my ane dear lord,
That is sae far frae me.’