 Section 12 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. Mrs. William Platt Chapter 9 The Gay Goss Hawk In the opening lines of this old ballad Lord William is talking to the Goss Hawk who tells his master that he is looking pale and thin and seeks to know the cause. O waley waley, my gay Goss Hawk, gin your feathering be sheen, and waley waley, my master dear, gin ye look pale and lean. O have ye tint lost at tournament your sword or yet your spear, or mourn ye for the southern lass whom ye may not win near. I have not tint at tournament my sword nor yet my spear, but so I mourn for my true love, we money a bitter tear. But wheels on ye, my gay Goss Hawk, ye can both speak and flee. Ye shall carry a letter to my love, bring an answer back to me. But how shall I your true love find, or how should I her know? I bear a tongue near we have spake, an eye that near her sore. O wheel shall ye my true love can, say soon as ye her see, for of all the flowers of fair England the fairest flower is she. The red that's on my true love's cheek is like blood drops on the snow, the white that is on her breast bear, like the down of the white sea moor. And even at my love's bourde war there grows a flowering berk, and ye men sit and sing thereon as she gangs to the Kirk. And four and twenty fair ladies will to the mass repair, but wheel may ye, my lady, can the fairest lady there. Lord William has written a love letter, put it under his pinion grey, and he is awar to southern land as fast as wings can gay, and even at the ladies' bower there grew a flowering berk, and he sat down and sung thereon as she gade to the Kirk. And wheel he kent that lady fair among her maidens free, for the flower that springs in May morning was not, say, sweet as she. He lighted the ladies' gate and sat him on a pine, and sang full sweet the notes of love till all was kush within. And first he sang a low note, and soon he sang a clear, and I, the old word or the sang, was, your love can no win here. Feast on, feast on, my maidens' oar, the wine flows ye among, while I gang to my shot window, and hear your bonny bird sang. Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, the sang ye sung, yes, Reen, for wheel I can by your sweet singing, ye are, for my true love send. Or first he sang a merry song, and soon he sang a grave, and soon he picked his feathers gray to her the letter gave. Have there a letter from Lord William? He says he sent ye three. He can await your love longer, but for your sake he'll die. Gate bid him bake his bridal bread, and brew his bridal ale, and I shall meet him in Mary's Kirk, lang, lang, er it bestail. The ladies gone to her chamber, and a moanful woman was she, as again she had taken a sudden brash, and were about to die. Aboon, aboon, my father dear, aboon I beg of thee, ask not that haughty Scottish Lord, for him ye ne'er shall see. But for your honest asking else, will granted it shall be, then gin I die in southern land, in Scotland garb bury me. And the first Kirk that ye come to, ye's gar the must be sung, and the next Kirk that ye come to, ye's gar the bells be rung. And when ye come to St Mary's Kirk, ye's tarry there till night. And so her father pledged his word, and so his promise plight. She has taken to her bigly bower as fast as she could fare, and she has drunk a sleepy draught that she had mixed with air, and pale, pale grew her rosy cheek, that was so bright of blee, and she seemed to be as surely dead as anyone could be. Then spack her cruel stepped mini, take ye the burning lead, and drop a drop on her bosom to try if she be dead. They took a drop of boiling lead, they dropped it on her breast, alas, alas, her father cried, she's dead without the priest. She neither chattered with her teeth, nor shivered with her chin. Alas, alas, her father cried, there is no breath within. Then up arose her seven brethren, and hewed to her a beer. They hewed it fray the solid oak, laid it with silver clear. Then up and got her seven sisters, and sowed to her a kel shroud, and every steek that they put in sowed to a silver bell. The first Scots Kirk they came to, they guard the bells be rung, the next Scots Kirk that they came to, they guard the mass be sung. But when they came to St Mary's Kirk, there stood Spearman all on a roll, and up and started Lord William, the chieftain among them all. Set down, set down the beer, he said, let me look her upon. But as soon as Lord William touched her hand, her colour began to come. She brightened like the lily flower, till her pale colour was gone. With rosy cheek and ruby lip, she smiled her love upon. A morsel of your bread, my Lord, and one glass of your wine, for I have fasted these three long days, all for your sake and mine. Go home, go home, my seven bold brothers, go home and blow your horn. I trow yeward her gimme the scaith, the harm, but I've given ye the scorn. Commend me to my grey father that wished my soul good rest, but way be to my cruel step-dam, its guard burn me on the breast. O woe to you, you light woman, an ill death may ye die, for we left father and sisters at home, breaking their hearts for thee. End of section 12 Section 13 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mrs. William Platt Chapter 10 The Corbys Two ancient songs have come down to us in which the principal speakers are supposed to be corbys, carrion-crows or ravens, birds which feed on the flesh of the dead. In both songs the birds discuss a dead knight upon whose rich body they wish to feed, but deep interest lies in the fact that the two songwriters present entirely different views of the case. One appeals to our feelings with a beautiful and touching picture of devotion, the knight's companions proving true to him in death. The other is far more grim and causes us to shudder at the utter loneliness of the dead man, deserted by all those who in life were beholden to his friendship. Both are powerful and striking examples of ancient vigor and directness. The Tua Corbys As I was walking all alone, I heard Tua Corbys making a moan. The Ton and to the Tother say, Where shall we gang and dine today? In behind yonder old failed dyke, I watched there lies a new slain knight, and nobody can's that he lies there, but his hawk, his hound, and Lady Fair. His hound is to the hunting-gone, his hawk to fetch the wildfowl home, his ladies tame another mate, so we may mack our dinner-sweet. Yill sits on his white house-bone, and I'll pick out his bonny blue-een. We'll locker his golden hair, we'll seek our nest when it grows bare. Many a one for him makes moan, but none shall ken where he is gone. Or his white bones when they are bare, the wind shall blow for ever mere. The Three Ravens There were three ravens sat on a tree, they were as black as they might be. The one of them said to his mate, Where shall we our breakfast take? Down in yonder green field there lies a knight's slain under his shield. His hounds they lie down at his feet, so well they their master keep. His hawks they fly so eagerly, there's no foul dare come him nigh. Down there comes a fallow doe, as great with young as she might go. She lift up his bloody head, and kissed his wounds that were so red. She got him up upon her back, and carried him to earth and lake. She buried him before the prime. She was dead herself ere even song time. God send every gentleman such hawks, such hounds, and such a le man. End of Section 13 Section 14 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. Mrs. William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11 Otterburn and Chevy Chase It fell about the lamest tide when more men win their hay, that Doughty Douglas bound him to ride into England to drive a prey. The ballads of Otterburn and Chevy Chase record the Scottish and English versions of a most stubborn border battle. Whichever of the two contains the greater amount of truth, it's clear that the day was a bloody one, and that, moreover, it was fought on both sides with a chivalrous admiration for the powers of the other, which is characteristic of those strife-loving days. Sir Philip Sidney wrote of it, I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas, that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet. The ballad of Chevy Chase is of later date than its rival, and it contains certainly one misstatement of historical fact. Since Hotspur outlived the fight at Chevy Chase, 1388, and was slain some fifteen years later at the Battle of Shrewsbury, 1403. The Scottish version of the Battle of Otterburn tells us that it was about the lamest tide or hay-making time of the year 1388, when the brave Earl of Douglas, with his brother, the Earl of Murray, made a foray into England with a gay band of Gordon's, Graham's, and Lindsay's. He burned Tyndale, and half of Bambra and Otterdale, and marching up to Newcastle rode round the castle crying, Who is the Lord of this castle, and who is its lady? Then up spake proud Lord Percy, known as Hotspur, and said, I am the Lord of this castle, and my wife is the gay lady of it. That pleases me well, answered Douglas, Yet ere I cross the border hills, one of us shall die. Then Percy took his long spear shod with metal, and rode right furiously at the Douglas, but his lady, looking from the castle wall, grew pale, as she saw her proud Lord go down before the Scottish spear. Had we too been alone with never an eye to see, I would have slain thee. But thy lance I will carry with me, said Douglas, and to complete the disgrace, this lance bore attached to it the Percy Penon. And to Otterburn, said Percy, and wait there for me, and if I come not before the end of three days, call me a false knight. Otterburn is a pleasant and bonny place, answered Douglas, but though the deer unwild among the hills and dales, and the birds fly wild from tree to tree, yet is there neither bread nor kale, nor ought else to feed me and my men. Yet will I wait thee at Otterburn, and give thee welcome, and if thou come not in three days' time, false Lord will I call thee. By the might of our lady I will come, cried the proud Percy, and I answered Douglas, plight thee my truth, that I will meet thee there. So Douglas and his men encamped at Otterburn, and sent out their horses to pasture. But before the peep of dawn, up spake a little page, Waken ye, waken ye, my good Lord, the Percy is upon us. Ye lie, ye lie, shouted Douglas. Yesterday Percy had not men enough to fight us, but if thou lie not, the finest bower in Otterburn shall be thy reward, and if what thou sayest prove false, thou shalt be hanged on the highest tree in Otterburn. Yet I have dreamed a dreary dream, I dreamed that a dead man won a battle, and that I was that dead man. So Douglas belted on his good broadsword, and ran to the field, but forgot his helmet, and Percy and the Douglas fought with their swords together till the blood ran down like rain, and the Douglas fell, wounded on the brow. Then he called to him his little foot-page, and told him to run quickly, and bring to him his sister's son Sir Hugh Montgomery. My good nephew, said Douglas, the death of one matters not. Last night I dreamed a dreary dream, but yet I know the day is thine. My wound is deep. Take thou the vanguard, bury me in the bracken high that grows on yonder lee, and let no man living know that a scot lies there, and know that I am glad to die in battle, like my good forefathers, and not on a bed of sickness. Montgomery lifted up his noble lord, while his eyes wept salt tears, and hid him in the bracken bush that his followers might not see. And before daylight the scots slew many a gallant Englishman. The good gordons steeped hose and shoes in the blood of the English. The lenses flew about like fire, till the battle was ended, and Percy and Montgomery fought till the blood ran down between them. Now yield thee, yield thee Percy, cried Sir Hugh, or I vow I will lay thee low. Since it must be, quoth Earl Percy, to whom shall I yield? Thou shalt not yield to me, nor to any lord, but to the bracken bush that grows on yonder lee. I will not yield to Breyer or bracken bush, but I would yield to Lord Douglas, or to Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he were here. Then Montgomery made himself known, and as soon as Percy knew that it was Montgomery, he struck the point of his sword into the ground, and Montgomery, who was a courteous knight, took him up by the hand. This deed was done at Otterburn at Daybreak, where Earl Douglas was buried by the bracken bush, and Percy led captive into Scotland, and it is said that Hotspur, for his ransom, built for Montgomery the castle of Penoone in Ayrshire. But the English version of these stirring events can also claim to be heard. The ballad upon it is called Chevy Chase, which means the Chase on the Cheviots, and so popular was this ballad that its name was given to a boy's game, which is so called even to this day, it tells how the Percy, from his castle in Northumberland, vowed that within three days he would hunt on the mountains of Cheviot, in spite of the Doughty Douglas and his men, and that he would kill and carry away the fattest deer in Cheviot. By my faith said Douglas, when he heard of the boast, but I will hinder his hunting. Percy left Bambura Castle with a mighty company, no less than fifteen hundred bold archers chosen out of three shires. The foray began on a Monday morning in the high Cheviot Hills, and many a child yet unborn was to rue the day. The drivers went through the woods and raised the deer, and the bowmen shot them with their broad arrows. Then the wild deer rushed through the woods, only to be met and killed by the Greyhounds, and before Noontide a hundred fat deer lay dead. The bugles sounded, Amor, and on all sides Percy and his men assembled to see the cutting up of the venison. Said Percy, the Douglas promised to meet me here this day, yet right well did I know that he would fail. But a Northumberland squire saw the Doughty Douglas coming with a mighty company with spear and battle axe and sword. Never were men hardier of heart and hand seen in Christendom. Two thousand spearmen bore along the banks of the Tweed and Cheviot Dale. Then said Lord Percy, now leave off the cutting of the deer and take good heed to your bows, and never had ye more need of them since ye were born. Earl Douglas rode before his men, his armour glittering like a burning coal, and never was such a bold barren. Tell me whose men ye are, said he, and who gave ye leave to hunt in Cheviot without word asked of me. Then answered Lord Percy, we will not tell thee whose men we are, and we will hunt here in spite of thee. We have killed the fattest hearts in Cheviot and will carry them away. By my troth, said Douglas, one of us shall die this day. Yet it were great pity to kill all these guiltless men. Thou, Percy, art a lord of land, and I am called an Earl in my own country. Let our men stand by, and we will fight together. Now a curse on his crown who says nay to that, cried Lord Percy, by my troth, Douglas, thou shall never see the day either in England, Scotland or France when I fear to meet one man to man. Then spoke Richard Witherington, a squire of Northumberland. Never shall this be told in England to the shame of good king Harry IV. I watch ye be two great lords, and I but a poor squire. Yet would I never stand and look on while my captain fought. While I can wield a weapon, I will not fail, both heart and hand. So the English, with good heart, bent their bows and slew seven score spearmen with the first arrows they shot. Earl Douglas stayed on the field, but that he was a good captain was truly seen, for he wrought great woe and mischief. He parted his host in three, like a proud chieftain, and they came in on every side with their mighty spears, wounding the English archers and slaying many a brave man. Then the English pulled out their brands, and it was a heavy sight to see the bright swords light on the helmets, striking through the rich mail and the cloth of many foals under it and laying many low. At last the Douglas and the Percy met and fought with swords of Milan steel till the blood spurted like rain and hail from their helmets. Hold thee, Percy, said Douglas, and I will bring thee to James, our Scottish king, where thou shalt have an earl's wages and free ransom, for thou art the manfulest man that ever yet I conquered fighting in the field. Nay then, said Lord Percy, I told thee before that never would I yield to any man of woman born. With that there came an arrow hastily from a mighty man and struck earl Douglas through the breastbone, and nevermore did he speak a word, but only this, fight my merry men while ye may, my life's days are done. Then Percy leaned on his hand and when he saw the Douglas die he said, Woe is me, I would have parted with my land for three years to have saved thy life, for a better man of heart and hand was not in all the North Country. But Sir Hugh Montgomery, a Scottish knight, when he saw the Douglas done to death, grasped a spear and rode through a hundred archers, slackening his pace till he came to Lord Percy, whom he set upon, sending his mighty spear clean through his body so that a man might see a long cloth-yard and more at the other side. There were no two better captains in Christendom than with that day's slain. When one of the Northumberland archers saw this he drew an arrow to his bow and set upon Montgomery until the swan feathers of his arrows were wet with his heart's blood. Not one man gave way, but still they stood hewing at each other while they were able. This battle began in Cheviot an hour before noon. Nor was it half done at Evensong, but they fought on by moonlight, though many had scarce the strength to stand. Of fifteen hundred English archers only fifty-three remained and of two thousand Scottish spearmen only fifty-five remained, all the rest being slain in Cheviot. With Lord Percy was slain, Sir John of Agaston, Sir Roger the Gentle Hartley, Sir William the Bold Heron, Sir George the Worthy Lovell, a renowned knight, and Sir Ralph the Rich Rugby. Woe was it that Witherington was slain, for when both his legs were hewn in two he kneeled and fought on his knees. With the brave Douglas were slain Sir Hugh Montgomery and Worthy Sir Davy Liddle that was his sister's son. Sir Charles a Murray who refused to flee and Sir Hugh Maxwell. On the morrow they made beers of birch and grey hazel and many widows bore weeping from the field the bodies of their dead husbands. Well, may Cheviot Dale and Northumberland wail and moan for two such great captains. Word came to James the Scottish King at Edinburgh that the brave Douglas, Lieutenant of the Marchers, lay slain in Cheviot, and he wept and wrung his hands and said, Alas! Woe is me! There will never be such another captain in Scotland. Word also came to London to Harry IV that Lord Percy, Lieutenant of the Marchers, lay slain in Cheviot. God have mercy on his soul, said King Harry. I have a hundred captains in England as good as he, yet I wager my life that his death shall be well avenged. And this vow he kept at the battle of Hommaldon Hill where he beat down six and thirty Scottish knights on one day. But so real to the borderers was their grief over their dead that the ballad ends with a quaint but heartfelt appeal to the Prince of Peace. Jesus Christ, our ills abate, and to his bliss us bring. Thus was the hunting of the Cheviot. God send us all good ending. End of section 14 Section 15 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 12 The Douglas Clan The Douglas Clan was at one time the strongest of all the great Scotch families on the border. They were wild and proud and recklessly brave and no account of the borders would be complete without the broad details of their tragic history. The first to raise the fame of the family to the highest place in honour was the brave Sir James Douglas, the friend of Bruce, and after Bruce himself the greatest hero among the Scots of that stormy period. He was a powerful black haired man with a dark complexion and was called by the English the Black Douglas. So great was the terror of his name that English mothers on the border when their children were naughty would tell them that the Black Douglas would get them or if they were fretful they would comfort them with the assurance Hush ye, hush ye, little petty Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye the Black Douglas shall not get thee. So Walter Scott relates how when the garrison of Roxborough Castle were making merry at Shrove Tide the castle was surprised by the Douglas who mounted to the ramparts where a woman was crooning the refrain to her babe. You're not so sure of that, he said laying his hand upon her shoulder. It's pleasant to read that on this occasion the Black Douglas did not turn out so black as he was painted and beyond her fright the woman came to no harm at the hands of Sir James and his followers. At one time the English had seized the Douglas Castle in Nanakshire and Sir James and his men disguised themselves and came to church on Palm Sunday when the English soldiers were worshipping there. Suddenly in the midst of the service Douglas dropped his cloak and drew his sword and shouted A Douglas! A Douglas! The English soldiers were taken by surprise and were killed before they could recover themselves. This deed brought Douglas great fame but after all it was hardly a fair fight. In 1327 when Edward III was only 15 years old Douglas led a raid into Northumberland and Durham which did the English much damage. Edward came after them with an English army and the Scots, being outnumbered were compelled to dodge up and down in order to avoid a pitched battle. But in one bold night attack Douglas and five hundred of the Scots penetrated to the king's tent and almost succeeded in taking him prisoner. Failing in this they returned unharmed to their own country and shortly afterwards at the Treaty of Northampton in 1328 King Edward III agreed to acknowledge Robert Bruce as king of Scotland and the long war between Scotland and England ended. A year later Douglas died but after a romantic custom of that day he bequeathed his heart to his gallant friend Sir James Douglas. Douglas had this heart enclosed in a silver casket and carried it hung about his neck. The war with England being over this restless night sought adventures in Spain fighting against the Saracen followers of Muhammad. In one fierce battle he and his men were surrounded by their enemies. Douglas, probably realising that this was his last fight took the casket and flung it into the midst of his foes crying go first in fight as thou wilt used to do Douglas will follow thee or die. He then rushed desperately after it fighting his way on till at last his dead body fell on this dearly prized relic which he had guarded to the end. The casket lies buried in the Abbey of Melrose but Douglas' body was laid in his own church. Of the bold, Earl Douglas who fought and died at Otterburn the tale is told in our last chapter. We may pass on to another famous Douglas this time a heroine who lived in the reign of James I of Scotland quite a different king from James I of England. When James was only twelve years old he was taken prisoner by Henry IV of England he was kept captive till he was thirty but he was given an education fit for a king and in England he met the lady he devotedly loved Lady Joan Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset he addressed a beautiful poem to her and married her and these two always most dearly loved one another when at last his long captivity came to an end he got back to Scotland to find the kingdom in disorder and the nobles defying the law and acting as they pleased James, a strong and able king set his strength against their strength and gradually got his whole kingdom into order and ruled with wisdom and justice but in these days it was impossible to be firm without sternness and James made enemies when he was staying at Perth one Christmas time these enemies led by a bold villain called Sir Robert Graham secretly encircled the house where he was staying the unarmed king only heard of their presence when they were advancing fully armed to his room he tore up a plank in the floor seeking thus to find a hiding place the enemies were almost at the door and it was necessary to delay their entrance for one minute might save his life all the bars of the door had been removed beforehand but a brave heroine, Kate Douglas thrust her arm through the staples the villains were angered to find the door barred against them and hurled their weight upon it the Douglas heroine stood there her pale face set hard without a cry as the crash broke the bone of her brave strong arm and the would-be murderous staggered in but alas the sacrifice of Kate Douglas availed nothing except to place her name upon the immortal role of the heroes of the age for after a brief search the murderous found the king and slew him the queen who had loved James with the utmost devotion found her love give added fierceness to her hate against his murderers they were all tracked down and she caused them to die with terrible tortures the cruelest of which she reserved Graham thus did great King James milk-white dove revenge the slaying of the husband she loved dearer than life itself till this time it had seemed as if the Douglas's were devoted to the good of Scotland but in those wild reckless times qualities that were strong for good could also be strong for evil when James I of Scotland was murdered his young son was only six years old this meant that for many years there would be no strong king able to cope with the lawless spirit of the nobles strongest among whom were the proud bold Douglas's the lawlessness of the times is well shown by an act of foul treachery committed by Sir William Crichton, Governor of Edinburgh and an enemy of the Douglas family he invited one of the earls to dinner at the castle and while there had him seized and beheaded it said that a bull's head was placed on the dish in front of Douglas this being a sign that he was to be killed the people called this Douglas's black dinner and sang of the wicked deed in sorrowful verse Edinburgh castle town and tower God grant thou sink for sin and even for that black dinner Earl Douglas got therein but the new King James found before he was twenty years old that the Douglas's themselves could act with equal cruelty and lawlessness the King was fond of a brave young soldier named McClellan who having some quarrel with Earl Douglas was thrown by him into a dungeon in his castle so the King wrote a letter to Douglas saying he must set McClellan free this letter by McClellan's uncle Sir Patrick Gray when Douglas saw Gray riding up to his castle he at once guessed the errand so he came out as though he were delighted to see him and insisted on his sitting down and having dinner with him before the King's letter was opened and discussed but the treacherous Earl had given secret orders that McClellan should be beheaded while they were dining so that after dinner was over and the letter was read he could say that this had been done before he had seen the King's message Gray dared not show his anger for fear that he too should be killed he mounted his swift horse and rode away but the moment he was outside the castle walls he shook his male fist at Douglas and cried out treacherous Earl disgraced to knighthood some day you shall pay for this black base deed Douglas mounted his men and they pursued Gray almost to the gates of Edinburgh but he rode for his life and faster than they when Douglas and the King next met there was a stormy scene the Earl was so proud and willful that he would not bend to any of the King's wishes or heed the King's anger in the least so King James, mad with rage stabbed the reckless Earl with his dagger and Sir Patrick Gray, seeing this struck him a death blow with his axe the King was in Stirling Castle a powerful fortress at the top of a steep hill when the new Earl, the younger brother of the murdered man rode up with six hundred followers and burnt and plundered the town before the King's very eyes and added to the insult by publicly declaring that King James II was a lawbreaker for three years the quarrel went on between the King and the Douglas's but it was then evident that there could be no peace between them so at last the King's army attacked the collected forces of the strong Douglas family at a place on the borders then called Arkin Home where the picturesque little town of Langham now stands here the beautiful River Esk receives the water of two smaller streams and so it was a good place to make a stand for a fight the battle was long and desperate three brothers of the bold black Douglas's were there and they withstood the King's men till the rivers ran red but their cause was hopeless one was slain in battle one was taken and executed one escaped into England and the power of the black Douglas's was gone thus it was that the strongest and most famous family of the borders was broken up because its proud leaders dared to dictate to the King himself End of Section 15 Section 16 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr and Mrs William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 13 Annick Castle and the Percy's The Castle of Annick stands on a hill on the south bank of the River Aln being protected on one side by the river and on another by a deep gorge it stands in a strong natural position There are traces of earthworks that seem to show that the spot was fortified in the old British days but the earliest fact which we know certainly is that there was a Saxon fortress here held by a Gilbert Tyson when William the Conqueror claimed England Tyson hastened south to fight on Harald's side and was killed at the Battle of Hastings The fortress seems to have got into the hands of a Norman knight Evo de Vessy who married the granddaughter of Gilbert Tyson King Malcolm of Scotland was killed in front of it in 1093 with 3,000 of his men De Vessy's son-in-law was probably the knight who rebuilt the castle in the Norman style some portions of which still remain In 1174 William the Lion, King of Scotland who had claimed Northumberland as his own attacked the castles of Walk and of Annick Walk was defended by a gallant knight named Roger de Stoutville William's brave men tried in vain to force their way through the portcullis but were beaten back Then William ordered up his Perrier a machine made for hurling stones This, said the King, will soon smash down the gate for us With great expectations the machine was set in motion but it acted so badly that it threw the stones onto William's own men and nearly killed one of his best knights William raved in his fury and swore he would rather have been captured in fair fight than be made to look so foolish in the eyes of his enemies He gave word to burn the castle but the wind was in the wrong quarter and blew back the flames so he had to give up the siege Stoutville, like a gallant enemy told his men not to shout taunts and jeers at the departing Scots but instead they blew trumpets and horns and sang songs and called out a very loud and hearty goodbye Shortly afterwards William came before Annick and it was then Davesh's turn It was Saturday morning on a hot July day and the Scottish King's knights flatteringly told him that the English were bound to give way to him and Northumberland would be his The King was dining in front of the castle with no helmet on when suddenly a part of the English army made a surprise attack The bold King leapt onto his grey charger and unhorsed the first night he met so quick and brave were the Scots that they had almost defeated the English when an English foot soldier stabbed the King's horse with his lance and it fell bringing William down to the ground and pinning him there This turned the course of battle the Scots were beaten back and William taken prisoner It was in 1309 that the great Percy family first obtained possession of Annick and its domain Henry Percy purchased it from Anthony Beck Bishop of Durham who had somehow obtained power over it and the braved Davesh family disappeared About this date Northumberland was in a miserable condition It was the reign of the feeble Edward II and Bruce had invaded the four northernmost counties of England and was exacting tribute from them The English were safe only within their fortresses However the brave Sir Thomas Gray who held Norum Castle did much to uphold the falling honour of England and Henry Percy almost rebuilt the castle of Annick which in his son's time successfully withstood a siege But at last peace was restored by the Treaty of Northampton in 1328 by the terms of which the English King renounced all claim to Scotland The Percy family were of Norman origin deriving their name from a Norman village William de Percy crossed to England just after the Battle of Hastings and received grants of land in Yorkshire Agnes de Percy married Jocelyn, Count of Louvain and their son Henry took his mother's surname From that year onward the Christian name of Henry was always given to the eldest son There were 14 Henry Percy's Even in these wild times the Percy's were distinguished by the boldness of their spirits One of the Counts of Louvain, grandfather of the first Henry Percy shocked the men of his day by hanging some of his enemies with the church bell ropes It was not the hanging that was objected to hanging was common enough but the use of church ropes for the purpose was thought very wicked After they had rebuilt Annick Castle and settled down there the Percy's soon established their power in the north At the coronation of Richard II in 1377 a Henry Percy was Marshal of England and he was then made Earl of Northumberland His son, Hotspur was the most famous of all the Percy's In their time the battles of Otterburn and Hommald and Hill were fought but they rebelled against Henry IV and Hotspur was killed at the Battle of Shrewsbury, 1403 while his father was slain a few years later at Branham Moor his head set up on London Bridge and quarters of his body on the gates of Berwick Newcastle, Lincoln and London to discourage others from following in his footsteps Henry, son of Hotspur, was the second Earl He repaired and added to the castle and was present at the Battle of Agincourt It was not the habit of the Percy's to die in their beds and this one was killed in the Wars of the Roses at the first battle of St. Albans in 1455 The fact of there having taken the losing Lankastrian side in these wars kept the family under a cloud for a number of years One of them was beheaded at York in 1572 for taking part in the Rising of the North One of them was found shot in his bed in 1585 and another died in the tower in 1632 so that the family could hardly be said to be quieting down They sided with Parliament during the Civil War but later on they favoured the Restoration At last there came a time when there were no male heirs left in this great line but only a daughter, Elizabeth She married the Duke of Somerset and had thirteen children The eldest surviving of whom was created Earl of Northumberland in 1748 but he died the year after leaving only a daughter who had married a very able baronet to whom was given the title of Duke of Northumberland in 1766 He very wisely took the surname of Percy and again restored the castle of Aginc putting the family estates and affairs in good order so that the purses of Annick Castle are dukes of Northumberland to this day End of section 16 Section 17 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. Mrs. William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 14 Hexham and Queen Margaret The town of Hexham stands on the south bank of the tine rising gradually up the hill and presenting a most picturesque appearance About two miles above Hexham the north and the south tine meet and the combined river is broad and noble and the hills around Hexham give strength and beauty to the scene The commanding appearance and central position of the priory church adds its note of dignity and the total effect of the town is very pleasing to the eye There is no doubt that from very early times there was a town in this fine natural position The burial grounds of primitive races have been discovered here with stone and bronze implements The Romans had a town here of some importance although it was four miles south of their great wall A Roman tombstone was discovered here nine feet by three and a half feet showing a Roman officer on horseback overthrowing in fierce fight a savage and scowling foe This fine relic is set up in the church and is not the only thing to see there The original church upon this spot was built in 674 in the reign of King Egfrid of Northumbria Wilfred, the very able and influential bishop of York was the man who presided at the building of it and there were bishops at Hexham for a couple of centuries In 875 the Danes ruthlessly burnt the town and nearly one thousand years later in 1832 there was found, buried in the ground a bronze vessel containing about nine thousand saxon coins of the eighth and ninth century evidently buried to protect this treasure from the invaders Those who buried them were probably slain before they had time to dig them up again There was a legend of another treasure hidden between Hexham and Corbridge and King John came to Hexham in 1201 to search for it He returned in 1208 and in 1212 but found nothing Time passed and this tale of hidden treasure ceased even to be local gossip but in 1735 by accident it was found The present handsome priory church must have been built about the time of King John's visits to Hexham It is a noble building, well worth a visit In 1725 when some work was being done in the church a wonderful discovery was made it was found that there was an old Saxon crypt a narrow vault with several passages underneath the church This was so carefully hidden that it was evidently intended as a place of refuge in danger It was built of Roman stones several of which have Roman inscriptions The Scots several times attacked Hexham once Sir William Wallace came there with his army but he would not let his Scots damage the church so that Hexham on the whole had a less stormy life than many of the border towns although in 1537 when Henry VIII caused the monastery to be suppressed the prior and five of the leading monks were hanged before the gates a gentle reminder that they were to live there no longer But by far the most stirring event in Hexham's history was the battle which raged there in 1464 The Wars of the Roses do not form a pleasing episode in English history They were pitiless and treachery was mingled with bloodshed Dissertions and executions were the accompaniment of every battle The fourth was coldly cruel and unscrupulous one of the blackest figures of a black time but romance centres round Queen Margaret the dauntless and resourceful wife of the feeble king Henry VI with whom Edward disputed the throne She it was who making up for her husband's weakness urged ever bravely and hopefully the cause of her son Thus she pressed on to the very end till that son worthy of his heroic mother proudly answered the taunts of his base enemies even though in their power preferring speedy death to any lessening of his tragic dignity and dying before the eyes of the successful and exultant Edward In this fierce drama Hexham was but an episode The Lancastrians had scattered after their heavy defeat at Tauton Margaret in person had begged a little help of the King of Scotland a little more of the King of France The Borderland was favourable to her and she gathered her forces together there King Henry VI staying in Annick Castle Lord Montague, brother to the powerful but crafty Earl of Warwick was warden of the East marchers for Edward and he hastily collected the Yorkist forces He was swift, able and unscrupulous He attacked a small body of Lancastrians on Hedley Moore only ten miles from Annick and defeated them killing their leader, Sir Ralph Percy, son of Hotspur As this gallant man died he consoled himself by saying I have saved the bird in my bosom By which poetical phrase he meant that he had saved his honour by being true to his Queen In May the greater battle of Hexham was fought King Henry was there in person with the dauntless Queen Margaret and her son and their brave general, the Duke of Somerset They marched out of Hexham to attack Lord Montague The battle began by the village of Linnalls on the south side of Devil's Water a stream that runs into the tine The fight was desperate for both sides knew that no quarter would be given It's said by some that the Scots, having no interest in the war deserted Margaret Anyway, bit by bit the Lancastrians were forced back to the very streets of Hexham itself two miles away In these narrow streets, in the quarter that is still called Battle Hill the last desperate fighters on the side of the Red Rose made their final and unavailing stand At last the remnant fled and no doubt many a Hexham maid and dame at the risk of her own life or limb hid that day some devoted follower of Margaret The gallant Duke of Somerset was taken prisoner and there and then was brought to the block in the marketplace and beheaded The cruel Montague had not the true soldiers' respect for a brave enemy whose blood thus mingled with that of his men Other nobles were taken as prisoners to Newcastle but Edward also was devoid of mercy and all perished Till the last moment the Queen hoped on She was not daunted by scenes of strife and bloodshed When defeat was an accomplished fact she and her young son fled to the Dipton Woods where they fell into the hands of rough men some say a party of Yorkist stragglers Whilst these men were eagerly dividing and quarrelling over the Queen's jewels she and the Prince slipped away for worse than robbers were hunting for them around Hexham Suddenly an outlaw stood in their path with drawn sword Even after that day of stir and terror Margaret's courage did not fail her She boldly declared to the man that she was the Queen of England and with her was her only son Now if he chose to betray them he could do so but if he had that natural nobility that hailed gladly great chances to do great deeds now was his time to prove himself a man and to save the ill-fated Prince and his Queen The robber bowed before her as though she were on her throne and as if the trees were her army around her He swore to die a hundred deaths rather than betray his rightful sovereign and her Prince He honourably kept his word and through his safe guidance and steady devotion both Queen and Prince were able to join King Henry in Scotland to which place he had safely escaped Thus the bandit of Hexham proved himself to be a trueer man than either Lord Montague or Warwick the king-maker or King Edward the fourth of England End of Section 17 Section 18 of Stories of the Scottish Porter by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 15 Fair Helen of Caconal Very simple, very touching is the story of Fair Helen of Caconal This beautiful maiden had two lovers, one rich, one poor Her friends favoured the rich one She loved the poor one She and her chosen lover used to meet secretly in the romantic churchyard of Caconal by the side of the river Kirtle Learning this, the rejected lover crept up one evening with his carbine to shoot his lucky arrival Helen saw him at the moment of firing and threw herself forward to receive the shot in her bosom and so save her lover's life at the cost of her own The ballad describing the grief of her lover is one of the most beautiful and touching pieces of poetry in existence I must be given here, entire Fair Helen I wish I were where Helen lies Night and day on me she cries Oh, that I were where Helen lies On Fair Caconal Lee Cursed be the heart that thought the thought and cursed the hand that shot the shot when in my arms bird Helen dropped and died to succor me Oh, think ye not, my heart was sore when my love dropped and speck nimmer There did she swoon we makele care on Fair Caconal Lee As I went down the water side none but my foe to be my guide none but my foe to be my guide on Fair Caconal Lee I lighted down my sword to draw I hacked him in pieces small I hacked him in pieces small for her sake that died for me Oh, Helen, fair beyond compare I'll make a garland of thy hair She'll bind my heart for evermore until the day I die Oh, that I were where Helen lies Night and day on me she cries Out of my bed she bids me rise Says haste and come to me Oh, Helen fair, oh Helen chaste If I were with thee I were blessed Where thou lies low and takes thy rest On Fair Caconal Lee Oh, that my grave were growing green A winding sheet drawn o'er my ene And I in Helen's arms were lying On Fair Caconal Lee I wish I were where Helen lies Night and day on me she cries And I am weary of the skies For her sake that died for me Chapter 16 Johnny of Breddysley Johnny of Breddysley, Outlaw and Dear Stealer was one of the broken men, as they were called, the Ishmaels of the border Johnny rose up one may morning and called for water to wash his hands He ordered to be unleashed his good grey dogs that were bound with iron chains When his mother heard that he had called for the dogs she wrung her hands Oh, Johnny, she cried, for my blessing do not go to the Greenwood today ye have enough of good wheat bread enough blood red wine Therefore, Johnny, I pray, stir not from home for any venison But despite his mother's tears Johnny busked up his good bent bow and his arrows and went off to Dury's deer to hunt down the done deer As he came by Merrimas he spied a deer lying beneath a bush of furs Johnny let fly an arrow and the deer leapt as the pitiless shaft found its mark and between the water and the bray his good hounds laid her pride So Johnny cut up the venison giving the liver and lungs to his faithful hounds as if they had been Earl's sons With such zest did they eat and drink that Johnny and the dogs fell asleep as if they had been dead Then as they lay there came by a silly old man and as soon as he saw the poachers he ran away to Hislington where the seven foresters were What news they asked What news bring ye ye grey-headed Carl I bring no news said the grey-headed Carl save what my eyes did see As I came down by Merrimas among the stunted trees the bonniest child I ever saw lay asleep among his dogs The shirt upon his back was a fine holland his doublet over that was of Lincoln twine his buttons were of the good gold the mouths of his good grey hounds were dyed with blood Now Johnny, like many another free-hearted outlaw was a well-liked man So the chief forester said If this be Johnny of Breddysley we will draw no nearer This was not the spirit of his men Quoth the sixth forester If it indeed be he rather let us slay him Cautiously they went through the thicket and when they saw their man asleep and helpless they shot a flight of arrows Johnny sprang up saw wounded on the knee the seventh forester cried out The last flight will kill him But little chance did the outlaw give them for such an easy victory He set his back against an oak and propped his wounded leg upon a stone with bow or with sword he was a better man by far than any of his foes In the short, sharp fight that followed he killed six of the foresters one arrow and some with steel and when the seventh turned to flee Johnny seized him from behind and threw him to the ground with a force that broke three of his ribs then he laid him on his steed and bade him carry the tidings home But Johnny himself was hurt to death Is there no Bonnie singing bird he cried that can fly to my mother's bower to fetch Johnny away A starling flew to his mother's windowsill and sang and whistled and the burden of its tune was ever the same Johnny tarries long so the men made a litter from rods of the hazel bush and of the thorn and fetched Johnny away Then his old mother's tears flowed fast and she said I would not be warned, my son Johnny to bide away from the hunting oft have I brought to bread his lee the less or greater gear but never what grieved my heart so sorely but woe betide that silly old grey-headed girl an ill death shall he die the highest tree in merry mass shall be his reward Now Johnny's good bent paw is break and his good grey dogs are slain and his body lies dead in Dury's deer and his hunting it is done End of Section 19 Section 20 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 17 Catherine Janfari This ballad is evidently the original of Sir Walter Scott's Lock-in-Var though Sir Walter reversed the names of the two leading male characters In Catherine Janfari Lock-in-Var plays the part of the Craven bridegroom There was a May and a Wilfard May lived high up in Yon Glen Her name was Catherine Janfari She was courted by money men Up there came Lord Lordardale up Frithaloland border and he has come to court this May or mounted in good order He told now her father he told now her mother and he told now one of her kin but he whispered the Bonnie Lassie herself and has her favour won But out there come Lord Lock-in-Var out through the English border all for to court this Bonnie May will mounted and in order He told her father he told her mother and all the labour of her kin but he told now the Bonnie May herself till on her wedding even She sent the Lord a Lordardale again he would come and see and he has sent back word again will answered he should be and he has sent a messenger right quickly through the land and razored Bonnie an armoured man to be at his command The bride looked out at a high window beneath Bathdale and Down and she was aware of her first true love with riders many a one She scoffed him and scorned him upon her wedding day and said it was the fairy court to see him in a ray or come ye here to fight young Lord or come ye here to play or come ye here to drink good wine upon the wedding day I come near here to fight he said I come near here to play I'll but lead a dance with a Bonnie bride and mount and go my way It is a glass of the blood red wine was filled up them between and I she drank to Lordardale where her true love had been He stained her by the milk-white hand and by the grass-green sleeve He's mounted her high behind himself at her kinsman's speared na'leave Now take your bride Lord Lockingvar Now take her if ye may but if you take your bride again we'll call it but foul play There were four and twenty Bonnie boys all clad in the Johnson Gray They said they would take the bride again by the strong hand if they may Some of them were right-willing men but they were no-willing all And four and twenty Leda lads bid them mount and ride awar Then wingers flew frae gentle sides and swords flew frae the shears and red and rosy was the blood ran down the lily-brays The blood ran down by Caddenbank and down by Caddenbray and sighing said the Bonnie bride O, ways me for foul play My blessing on your heart, sweet thing way to your willful will There's many a gallant gentleman whose blood ye have guard to spill Now all the lords of Fair England and that dwell by the English border come never here to seek a wife for fear of sick disorder They'll track ye up and settle ye by till on your wedding day they'll giee frogs instead of fish and play ye foul foul play Lock-in-vah In Sir Walter Scott's poem Lock-in-vah is the hero and the story has a happier ending The song was supposed to have been sung to James IV by Lady Heron at Holyrood shortly before the fatal battle of Flodden O, young Lock-in-vah has come out of the west through all the wide border his steel was the best and save his good broadsword he weapons had none he rode all unarmed and he rode all alone so faithful in love and so dauntless in war then never was night like the young Lock-in-vah He stayed not for break and he stopped not for stone he swam the Esk River where Ford there was none but ere he alighted at Netherby Gate the bride had consented the gallant came late for a laggard in love and a dastard in war was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lock-in-vah so boldly he entered the Netherby Hall among bridesmen and kinsmen and brothers and all then spoke the bride's father his hand on his sword for the poor craven bridegroom spoke never a word O, come ye in peace here or come ye in war or to dance at our bridle young Lord Lock-in-vah I long wooed your daughter my suit you denied love swells like the Solway but ebbs like its tide and now I am come with this lost love of mine to lead but one measure drink one cup of wine there are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far that would gladly be bride to the young Lock-in-vah the bride kissed the goblet the knight took it up he quaffed off the wine and he threw down the cup she looked down to blush and she looked up to sigh with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye she took her soft hand ere her mother could bar now tread we a measure said young Lock-in-vah so stately her form and so lovely her face that never a hall such a galleyard did grace while her brother did fret and her father did fume and the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume and the bride maidens whispered to a better by far to have matched our fair cousin the young Lock-in-vah one touch to her hand and one word in her ear when they reached the hall door and the chargers stood near so light to the croop the fair lady he swung so light to the saddle before her he sprung she is one we have gone over bank bush and score they'll have fleet steeds that follow quoth young Lock-in-vah there was mounting mangrams knicks and musgraves they rode and they ran there was racing and chasing on cannaby lee but the lost bride of netherby near did they see so daring in love and so dauntless in war have year heard of gallant like young Lock-in-vah end of section 20 section 21 of stories of the Scottish border by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt this Librivox recording is in the public domain chapter 18 by Lorder Bridge the ancient royal borough of Lorder a quaint little border town with hardly more than one street is on the banks of the river Leda on the high road between Edinburgh and Kelso it stands very picturesquely among the bold hills and fine woods of Berwickshire and the valley is called Lorderdale extending to where the leader joins the tweed just below Melrose peacefully beautiful as the spot and yet it was once the scene of a harsh grim tragedy it was in the reign of King James III of Scotland who offended his subjects in two particulars first to get wealth for himself he mixed brass and lead with his silver money and put it into circulation as pure silver next he chose favourites from the common people and set these above the proud nobleman of Scotland this latter would not have been so bad a fault if the king had always chosen wisely but as often in such cases he was led by flatterers rather than by worthy men in 1482 the king declared war against England and as in the war like days the nobles were the leaders of the army this brought the discontented lords together when the Scottish army reached Lorderdale in their southward march the proud nobles met in Lorderdale church all were angry with the king yet each was afraid to make the first move so Lord Grey told them a mocking fable do you remember said he how all the mice got together and agreed that it would be a splendid thing if a bell were hung round the cat's neck so that wherever she went she could be heard the only difficulty was to find a mouse to bell the cat these war like nobles did not like to be spoken of as if they were mice and it roused them to deeper rage then out spoke archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus the head of the younger branch of the Douglas family trust me, I'll bell the cat there was a knock at the door Cochran, the architect whom the nobles said had been a mason but was now the king's chief favourite, entered dressed in black velvet with a heavy chain of gold round his neck a horn of gold tipped with precious stones and all his attire of the costlius Angus caught the chain in his hands and said a rope would suit that neck better then the nobles laid violent hands on all the king's low born favourites and hanged them by the bridge of Lorda in front of the king's very eyes Cochran was proud and brave to the last he said that as the king had made him an earl he should be hanged with a rope made of silk and as the nobles care for his protests the halter of a horse was in their opinion good enough for him from this time onward the headstrong earl of Angus was known by the nickname of bell the cat it may be taken for granted that neither he nor the nobles who supported him would have dared to act so arrogantly and violently unless they felt quite sure that the king had not the power to punish them he returned sullenly to Edinburgh more the captive of the nobles than their master a parliament appointed the Duke of Albany Lieutenant General of the kingdom but he in turn soon lost favour for he was suspected of too great a friendship for Edward IV King of England and fled for safety to France giving James another chance to govern his kingdom for himself this weak and unhappy monarch however was not destined to have much peace before very long another quarrel with his nobles led to their taking up arms with the view of deposing him and placing his son on the throne the king and his nobles met in battle near sterling but at the very beginning of the fight James was thrown from his horse and stabbed by a soldier whose name remained unknown thus died this week but amiable and unfortunate king End of Section 21 Section 22 of Stories of the Scottish Border by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 19 The Battle of Floddenfield one of the most tragic episodes in the history of the Borders was the battle of Floddenfield when the flower of the Scottish nobility fell around their sovereign James IV while fighting against the English under Surrey the causes of the war were many Henry of England refused to give up the jewels which had been promised as the dowry of his sister Margaret on her marriage with James IV The Lord High Admiral of England Sir Edmund Howard attacked and taken two Scottish ships and slain their captain Sir Andrew Barton James, who was fond of Barton demanded redress but Henry insolently replied that Kings should not quarrel about pirates but the immediate cause was the friendship between France and Scotland Henry was preparing for war with France and James stood by his ally declaring that if Henry fought with France he would lead an army into England The Queen of France sent James a turquoise ring asking him to carry out his threat to serve her interests James had been warned that his action would have terrible consequences a man appeared to him at Linnlithgow clad in a long blue ground with bare head and carrying a pike-staff and having told the King that his dead mother had sent him to warn him not to go to war against England he disappeared as suddenly as he had come also at the dead of night a voice had been heard proclaiming aloud at the market cross in Edinburgh the names of those who within forty days would be no more it was thought at the time that these happenings were instigated by Queen Margaret he persisted in his policy and led his army across the border in spite of the warnings of his councillors and his Queen a fine description of his army is given by Sir Walter Scott when Lord Marmion watches the scene from Blackford Hill thousand pavilions white as snow spread all the borough more below upland and dale and down a thousand did I say I wean thousands and thousands there were seen that checkered all the heath between the streamlet and the town in crossing ranks extending far forming a camp irregular after giving way where still there stood some relics of the old oak wood that darkly huge did intervene and tamed the glaring white with green in these extended lines there lay a marshal kingdom's vast array for from Hebuddy's dark with rain to eastern Lodon's fertile plain and from the southern redswire edge to farthest Ross's rocky ledge from west to east from south to north Scotland sent all her warriors forth Marmian might hear the mingled hum of myriads up the mountain cum the horses trump and tingling clank where chiefs reviewed their vassal rank and charges shrilling ney and see the shifting lines advance while frequent flashed from shield and lance the sun's reflected ray they saw slow rolling on the plain on many a baggage cart and wane and dire artillery's clumsy car by sluggish oxen tugged to war nor marked they less where in the air a thousand streamers flaunted fair various in shape device and hue green sanguine purple red and blue broad narrow swallow tailed and square scroll pen and pencil bandroll there over the pavilions flew highest and midmost was described the royal banner floating wide the staff a pine tree strong and straight pitched deeply in a massive stone which still in memory is shown yet bent beneath the standard's weight when air the western breeze unrolled with toil the huge and cumbers fold and gave to view this dazzling field where in proud Scotland's royal shield the ruddy lion ramped in gold Marmian wondered that with such a glorious army at his back anyone should try to dissuade James from battle yet Sir David Lindsay of the mount answered him to a good that kings would think with all when peace and wealth their land has blessed it is better to sit still at rest than rise perchance and fall men at arms with air sheathed in plate armour with battle axe and spear and mounted on Flemish steeds young knights and squires practice their charges on the plane Hardy burgers marched on foot armed with long pikes and two-handed swords and bright bucklers the yeoman too was on foot dressed in steel jack quilted well with iron and bearing at his back provisions for forty days he seemed sad of cheer and loath to leave his humble cottage wondering who would till the land during his absence there too was the borderer bred to war he knew the battle's din afar and joyed to hear it swell his peaceful day was slothful ease nor harp nor pipe his ear could please like the loud slogan yell for wars the borderers game their gain their glory their delight to sleep the day maraud the night or mountain moss and more there too were the Celts with savage eyes looking out wildly through red and sable hair with sinewy frames and legs bare above the knees their chiefs known by the eagle's plumage they wore the skin of the red deer a graceful bonnet and a plaid hung from the shoulders and carried his weapons a broadsword a dagger and quivers bows and shafts the Islesmen too were there carrying the ancient Danish battle-axe while the army was mustering together James feasted the chiefs in hollywood palace for at dawn they were to march southward well loved that splendid monarch eye the banquet and the song by day the tourney and by night the merry dance traced fast and light the masquer's quaint the pageant bright the revel loud and long this feast out shone his banquet's past it was his blithest and his last and Hazel was his eagle eye and Orban of the darkest die his short curled beard and hair light was his footstep in the dance and firm his stirrup in the lists and oh he had that merry glance that seldom lady's heart resists yet no fair lady was as dear to James as his own queen Margaret who sat alone in the tower of Linlithgow weeping for the war against her native country and for the danger of her lord on the morrow James marched south crossed the tweed and encamped on the banks of the till near Twizel bridge the Scottish army moved down the side of the tweed to Flodden hill taking Norum castle to Eatle, Walk and Ford much time was wasted in these petty enterprises time which should have been spent in marching to Newcastle before the English were prepared to offer resistance when the castle of Ford was stormed Lady Heron, wife of Sir William Heron then a prisoner in Scotland was taken and this beautiful and artful woman induced James to idle away his time until all chance was lost of defeating the enemy the army suffered severely from want of provisions and many of the Highlanders and Islesmen returned home many who had come only for booty deserted and the numbers were reduced to about 30,000 meanwhile the Earl of Surrey had raised 26,000 men and received other enforcements as he came north from Durham he therefore challenged James to fight and charged him with violating the Treaty of Peace between the two kingdoms the Scottish nobles were unwilling to fight and said it was impossible to remain in a country so plundered also if fight the king must he would fight to much greater advantage in his own country to whose welfare the loss of this battle would be fatal while he had sufficiently indicated his honour by crossing the border James would not listen to the council of his nobles though even the aged Earl of Angus expostulated with him to this old warrior he angrily said Angus, if you are afraid you may go home at which insult the aged Earl burst into tears the English army crossed the till by Twisel Bridge and pressed on while the Scottish army stood idly by Scottish nobles in vain in treating the king to attack the English while they were crossing when the English army had drawn up in order of battle on the left bank of the river the Scots setting fire to their temporary huts came down the ridge of Flodden the clouds of smoke from the burning huts were driven into the face of the English so that the Scots had got to within a quarter of a mile of them before they perceived them no martial shout they announced their march their tread alone at times one warning trumpet blown at times a stifled hum told England from his mountain throne King James did rushing come scarce could they hear or see their foes until at weapon point they close with clanging blows and arrows that fell like rain with yelling and clamour and sword sway and lance thrust the evening and when even fell the Scots still fought in an unbroken ring round their king but when darkness came and sorry withdrew his men the flower of Scotland's chivalry had fallen and the king lay dead on the field afar the royal standard flies and round it toils and bleeds and dyes our Caledonian pride but yet though thick the shafts is now changing knights like whirlwinds go though billman ply the gustly bow unbroken was the ring the stubborn spearmen still made good their dark impenetrable wood each stepping where his comrades stood the instant that he fell no thought was there of dusted flight linked in the sered phalanx tight groom fought like noble squire like knight as fearlessly and well till utter darkness closed her wing or their thin host and wounded king then skillful Surrey's sage commands led back from strife his shattered bands and from the charge they drew as mountain waves from wasted lands sweep back to ocean blue then did their loss his foemen know their king, their lords their mightiest low they melted from the field a snow when streams are swollen and south winds blow dissolves in silent dew still from the sire the sun shall hear of the stern fight and carnage drear of flodden's fatal field where shivered was fair scotland spear and broken was her shield and well in death his trusty brand firm clenched within his manly hand besiemed the monarch slain end of section 22 section 23 of stories of the Scottish border by Mr. and Mrs. William Platt this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter 20 after flodden so deeply did the tragic result of flodden touch the hearts of the Scottish people that no scot could for many a long day hear it mentioned without a heart thrill many of the songs written about it the most famous perhaps being the flowers of the forest written two centuries later though partly founded upon an older and almost forgotten song the flowers of the forest I've heard them lilting at are you milking lasses are lilting before dawn a day but now they are moaning on Ilca green loaning the flowers of the forest are all weed away but butts in the morning nably lads are scorning the lasses are lonely and dower and way way duffing, niggabing but sighing and subbing Ilcan lifts a leglin and hies her away Inhearsed at the shearing nay youths now adjuring the bansters are uncle'd and liat or grey at fair or at preaching nay wooing, nay fleaching the flowers of the forest are all weed away but in and the gloaming nay yonkers are roaming bout stacks with the lasses at bogel to play but Ilc maid sits dreary lamenting her deery the flowers of the forest are all weed away dull and way for the order sent our lads to the border the English for once by guile won the day the flowers of the forest that fought I the foremost the prime of our land are cold in the clay we'll hear nay mere lilting at the you milking women and bans are heartless and way sighing on moaning on Ilca green loaning the flowers of the forest are all weed away Jean Elliot 1727 to 1805 following poem also gives eloquent and touching expression to the deep gloom which descended upon the border after the fatal battle and tells of the despair almost every Ettrick home Selkirk after Flodden the widow's dirge October 1513 it's but a month the mourn sin always peace and plenty O'hurst was Hufflin shorn aident men and lasses denty but now it's all distress nevermare a merry meeting for half the bans are featherless and all the women greeting or Flodden field miles and miles round Selkirk town where forest flowers are fairest Ilca lassies stricken down with a fate that furs the serest all the lads they used to meet by Ettrick Brays or Yarrow lying thrummeled head and feet in Brankston's deadly barrow of Flodden field for every clook and clan the best of the braid border rose like a single man to meet the royal order who a burg town itself sent its seventy dun the glen ask Fletcher how they fell brave fechting on to ten of Flodden field round about their gallant king for country and for crown stood the dauntless border ring till the last was hack it down I blame know what has been they mon far that can a flee but oh to see what I have seen to see what now I see oh Flodden field the suitors a full cruise so their leather and their lingle with a shoes in Ilca who sat contented round the ingle no there's nothing left but dole never mare their work will cheer them in Flodden's bloody pool they'll neither wait nor wear them or Flodden field while the weavers used to meet in Ilca billy corner no there's none in all the street savin' here and there a mourner walkin' lonely as a wraith or if she meet another just a word below their breath or some slotted son or brother or Flodden field there stands the goodman's loom that used to gang sit cheery untent it no and tomb makin' all the house a eerie till the sicht a canadre for the shuttles lying dumb speak the loudlier to me or him that wanna come or Flodden field say at night I covered over just to hold it frame I in but I hannah yet the power to forget what it has been and I listen through the hoose for the chapin or the lay till the scrape in no amuse takes my very breath away or Flodden field then I turn to sister Jean and my arms are but her twain and I kiss her sleepless in for her heart's as fair as mine a heart uns full of fun and hands that ne'er were idle we all her cleed and spun against her Jamie's bridle or Flodden field now we've neither hands nor hurt in old grief the walks forgotten though it's wanted every earth and the craps are lying rotten was awesome blasts can buy and left a land for lawn in death stool hearst they lie the shearers and the shorn of Flodden field we winter creeping nearers when the nests are drearing lang ne'en to help us ne'en to hear us on the weary gate we gang Lord of the quick and deed sin or en we canna see in mercy mac good speed and bringers where they be far far for a Flodden field Jamie Selkirk James B. Brown by permission of W. Cuthbertson Esquire another lyric relating to the fatal battle of Flodden refers to the gallantry of the suitors or shoemakers of Selkirk who to the number of 80 and headed by their town clerk joined the army as it entered England they distinguish themselves greatly and few returned the yellow and green are the liveries of the house of Hume taxed by some with being the cause of the defeat up with the suitors of Selkirk and doon with the earl a hume and up with all the brawl lads that saw the single soul shone fire upon yellow and yellow and fire upon yellow and green but up with the true blue and scarlet and up with the sing old soul sheen up with the suitors of Selkirk for they obeyed trusty and leal and up with the men of the forest and down with the must the deal in Eton's Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers the following well-known poem tells how the news of the disaster at Flodden field was received in Edinburgh Edinburgh after Flodden one news of battle news of battle harked his ringing down the street and the archways and the pavement bear the clang of hurrying feet news of battle who hath brought it news of triumph who should bring tidings from our noble army greetings from our gallant king all last night we watched the beacons blazing on the hills afar each one bearing as it kindled the message of the opened war all night long the northern streamers shot across the trembling sky fearful lights that never beckon save when kings or heroes die too news of battle who hath brought it all are thronging to the gate warder-warder open quickly man is this a time to wait and the heavy gates are opened then a murmur long and loud and a cry of fear and wonder bursts from out the bending crowd for they see in battered harness only one hard-stricken man and his weary steed is wounded and his cheek is pale and won spearless hangs a bloody banner in his weak and drooping hand god can that be Randolph Murray captain of the city band three round him crush the people crying tell us all or tell us true where are they who went to battle Randolph Murray sworn to you where are they our brothers children have they met the English foe why art thou alone unfollowed is it wheel or is it woe like a corpse the grizzly warrior looks from out his helm of steel but no word he speaks in answer only with his armored heel chides his weary steed and onward up the city streets they ride father's sisters mother's children shrieking praying by his side by the god that made the Randolph tell us what mischance has come then he lifts his ribbon banner and the asker's voice is dumb for the elders of the city have met within their hall the men whom good king James had charged to watch the tower and wall your hands a week with age he said your hearts are stout and true so by G in the maiden town while others fight for you my trumpet from the border side shall send a blast so clear that all who wait within the gate that stirring sound may hear or if it be the will of heaven that back I never come and if instead of Scottish shout ye hear the English drum then let the warning bells ring out then gird you to the fray then man the walls like burger stout and fight while fight you may to a better that in fiery flame the roof should thunder down then that the foot of foreign foe should trample in the town then in came Randolph Murray his step was slow and weak and as he doffed his dinted helm the tears ran down his cheek they fell upon his coarseler and on his maled hand as he gazed round him wistfully leaning sorely on his brand and none who then beheld him but straight were smote with fear for a boulder and a stern a man had never couched a spear they knew so sad a messenger some ghastly news must bring with them were fathers and their sons were with the king six and up then rose the provost a brave old man was he of ancient name and nightly fame and chivalrous degree he ruled our city like a lord who brooked no equal here and ever for the townsman's rights stood up against prince and peer and he had seen the Scottish host march from the borough mure with music storm and clamorous shout and all the din that thunders out when youths of victory sure but yet a dearer thought had he for with a father's pride he saw his last remaining son go forth by Randolph's side with cask on head and spur on heel all keen to do and air and proudly did that gallant boy Dunedin's banner bear oh woeful now was the old man's look and he spoke right heavily now Randolph tell thy tidings however sharp they be woe is written on thy visage death is looking from thy face speak though it be of overthrow it cannot be disgrace seven right bitter was the agony that rung that soldier proud thrice did he strive to answer thrice he groaned aloud then he gave the ribbon banner to the old man shaking hand saying that is all I bring ye from the bravest of the land aye you may look upon it it was guarded well and long by your brothers and your children by the valiant and the strong one by one they fell around it as the archers laid them low grimly dying still conquered with their faces to the foe aye ye may well look upon it there is more than honour there else be sure I had not brought it from the field of dark despair never yet was royal banner steeped in such a costly dye it hath lain upon a bosom where no other shroud should lie sirs I charge you keep it holy keep it as a sacred thing for the stain ye see upon it was the lifeblood of your king eight woe and lamentation what a piteous cry was there widows maidens mothers children shrieking sobbing in despair through the streets the death word rushes spreading terror sweeping on jesus christ our king has fallen oh great god he's gone holy mother shield us thou who hast to lose thy son oh the blackest day for scotland that she ever knew before oh our king the good the noble shall we see him nevermore woe to us and woe to scotland oh our sons our sons and men surely some have escaped surely some will come again Randolph Murray describes how the monarch lies dead on the field with his nobles around him also thick they lay together when the stars lit up the sky that I knew not who was stricken or who yet remain to die a hollow knell is rung and the miser arias sung and all is terror and disorder until the provost rouses them if our king be taken from us we are left to guard his son up and hasty through the city stir the burgers stout and true gather all our scattered people fling the banner out once more Randolph Murray do thou bear it as it erst was born before never Scottish heart will leave it when they see their monarchs gore end of section 23