AULD MAITLAND.

Queen Eleanor was a sick woman,And afraid that she should dye;Then she sent for two fryars of France,To speak with her speedily.The King call'd down his nobles all,5By one, by two, by three,And sent away for Earl Marshal,To speak with him speedily.When that he came before the King,He fell on his bended knee;10"A boon, a boon, our gracious king,That you sent so hastily.""I'll pawn my lands," the King then cry'd,"My sceptre and my crown,That whatsoe're Queen Eleanor says,15I will not write it down."Do you put on a fryar's coat,And I'll put on another;And we will to Queen Eleanor go,Like fryar and his brother."20Thus both attired then they go:When they came to Whitehall,The bells did ring, and the choristers sing,And the torches did light them all.When that they came before the Queen,25They fell on their bended knee;"A boon, a boon, our gracious queen,That you sent so hastily.""Are you two fryars of France," she said,"As I suppose you be?30But if you are two English fryars,Then hanged you shall be.""We are two fryars of France," they said,"As you suppose we be;We have not been at any mass35Since we came from the sea.""The first vile thing that e're I did,I will to you unfold;Earl Marshal had my maidenhead,Beneath this cloth of gold."40"That's a vile sin," then said the King;"God may forgive it thee!""Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;With a heavy heart spoke he."The next vile thing that e're I did,45To you I'll not deny;I made a box of poyson strong,To poyson King Henry.""That's a vile sin," then said the King,"God may forgive it thee!"50"Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;"And I wish it so may be.""The next vile thing that e're I did,To you I will discover;I poysoned fair Rosamond,55All in fair Woodstock bow'r.""That's a vile sin," then said the King;"God may forgive it thee!""Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;"And I wish it so may be."60"Do you see yonder's [a] little boy,A tossing of the ball?That is Earl Marshal's eldest son,I love him the best of all."Do you see yonder's [a] little boy,65A catching of the ball?That is King Henry's son," she said;"I love him the worst of all."His head is like unto a bull,His nose is like a boar,"—70"No matter for that," King Henry cry'd,"I love him the better therefore."The king pull'd off his fryar's coat,And appeared all in red;She shriek'd, she cry'd, and wrung her hands,75And said she was betray'd.The King look'd over his left shoulder,And a grim look looked he;And said, "Earl Marshal, but for my oath,Or hanged shouldst thou be."80

Queen Eleanor was a sick woman,And afraid that she should dye;Then she sent for two fryars of France,To speak with her speedily.

The King call'd down his nobles all,5By one, by two, by three,And sent away for Earl Marshal,To speak with him speedily.

When that he came before the King,He fell on his bended knee;10"A boon, a boon, our gracious king,That you sent so hastily."

"I'll pawn my lands," the King then cry'd,"My sceptre and my crown,That whatsoe're Queen Eleanor says,15I will not write it down.

"Do you put on a fryar's coat,And I'll put on another;And we will to Queen Eleanor go,Like fryar and his brother."20

Thus both attired then they go:When they came to Whitehall,The bells did ring, and the choristers sing,And the torches did light them all.

When that they came before the Queen,25They fell on their bended knee;"A boon, a boon, our gracious queen,That you sent so hastily."

"Are you two fryars of France," she said,"As I suppose you be?30But if you are two English fryars,Then hanged you shall be."

"We are two fryars of France," they said,"As you suppose we be;We have not been at any mass35Since we came from the sea."

"The first vile thing that e're I did,I will to you unfold;Earl Marshal had my maidenhead,Beneath this cloth of gold."40

"That's a vile sin," then said the King;"God may forgive it thee!""Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;With a heavy heart spoke he.

"The next vile thing that e're I did,45To you I'll not deny;I made a box of poyson strong,To poyson King Henry."

"That's a vile sin," then said the King,"God may forgive it thee!"50"Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;"And I wish it so may be."

"The next vile thing that e're I did,To you I will discover;I poysoned fair Rosamond,55All in fair Woodstock bow'r."

"That's a vile sin," then said the King;"God may forgive it thee!""Amen, amen!" quoth Earl Marshal;"And I wish it so may be."60

"Do you see yonder's [a] little boy,A tossing of the ball?That is Earl Marshal's eldest son,I love him the best of all.

"Do you see yonder's [a] little boy,65A catching of the ball?That is King Henry's son," she said;"I love him the worst of all.

"His head is like unto a bull,His nose is like a boar,"—70"No matter for that," King Henry cry'd,"I love him the better therefore."

The king pull'd off his fryar's coat,And appeared all in red;She shriek'd, she cry'd, and wrung her hands,75And said she was betray'd.

The King look'd over his left shoulder,And a grim look looked he;And said, "Earl Marshal, but for my oath,Or hanged shouldst thou be."80

From Kinloch'sAncient Scottish Ballads, 247.

The Queen fell sick, and very, very sick,She was sick, and like to dee,And she sent for a friar oure frae France,Her cónfessour to be.King Henry, when he heard o' that,5An angry man was he;And he sent to the Earl Marshall,Attendance for to gie."The Queen is sick," King Henry cried,"And wants to be beshriven;10She has sent for a friar oure frae France;By the rude, he were better in heaven!"But tak you now a friar's guise,The voice and gesture feign,And when she has the pardon crav'd,15Respond to her, Amen!"And I will be a prelate old,And sit in a corner dark,To hear the adventures of my spouse,My spouse, and her holy spark."20"My liege, my liege, how can I betrayMy mistress and my queen!O swear by the rude, that no damageFrom this shall be gotten or gien!""I swear by the rude," quoth King Henry,25"No damage shall be gotten or gien,Come, let us spare no cure nor careFor the conscience o' the Queen."* * * * *"O fathers, O fathers, I'm very, very sick,I'm sick, and like to dee;30Some ghostly comfort to my poor soulO tell if ye can gie!""Confess, confess," Earl Marshall cried,"And ye shall pardoned be:""Confess, confess," the King replied,35"And we shall comfort gie.""O how shall I tell the sorry, sorry tale!How can the tale be told!I play'd the harlot wi' the Earl MarshallBeneath yon cloth of gold.40"O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he."O down i' the forest, in a bower,45Beyond yon dark oak tree,I drew a penknife frae my pocketTo kill King Henerie."O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:"50"Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he."O do you see yon pretty little boy,That's playing at the ba'?He is the Earl Marshall's only son,55And I loved him best of a'."O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he.60"And do you see yon pretty little girl,That's a' beclad in green?She's a friar's daughter, oure in France,And I hoped to see her a queen."O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!65But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a fear't heart still had he."O do you see yon other little boy,That's playing at the ba'?70He is King Henry's only son,And I like him warst of a'."He's headed like a buck," she said,"And backed like a bear,"—"Amen!" quoth the King, in the King's ain voice,75"He shall be my only heir."The King look'd over his left shoulder,An angry man was he:"An it werna for the oath I sware,Earl Marshall, thou shouldst dee."80

The Queen fell sick, and very, very sick,She was sick, and like to dee,And she sent for a friar oure frae France,Her cónfessour to be.

King Henry, when he heard o' that,5An angry man was he;And he sent to the Earl Marshall,Attendance for to gie.

"The Queen is sick," King Henry cried,"And wants to be beshriven;10She has sent for a friar oure frae France;By the rude, he were better in heaven!

"But tak you now a friar's guise,The voice and gesture feign,And when she has the pardon crav'd,15Respond to her, Amen!

"And I will be a prelate old,And sit in a corner dark,To hear the adventures of my spouse,My spouse, and her holy spark."20

"My liege, my liege, how can I betrayMy mistress and my queen!O swear by the rude, that no damageFrom this shall be gotten or gien!"

"I swear by the rude," quoth King Henry,25"No damage shall be gotten or gien,Come, let us spare no cure nor careFor the conscience o' the Queen."

* * * * *

"O fathers, O fathers, I'm very, very sick,I'm sick, and like to dee;30Some ghostly comfort to my poor soulO tell if ye can gie!"

"Confess, confess," Earl Marshall cried,"And ye shall pardoned be:""Confess, confess," the King replied,35"And we shall comfort gie."

"O how shall I tell the sorry, sorry tale!How can the tale be told!I play'd the harlot wi' the Earl MarshallBeneath yon cloth of gold.40

"O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he.

"O down i' the forest, in a bower,45Beyond yon dark oak tree,I drew a penknife frae my pocketTo kill King Henerie.

"O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:"50"Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he.

"O do you see yon pretty little boy,That's playing at the ba'?He is the Earl Marshall's only son,55And I loved him best of a'.

"O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a very fear't heart had he.60

"And do you see yon pretty little girl,That's a' beclad in green?She's a friar's daughter, oure in France,And I hoped to see her a queen.

"O wasna that a sin, and a very great sin!65But I hope it will pardoned be:""Amen! Amen!" quoth the Earl Marshall,And a fear't heart still had he.

"O do you see yon other little boy,That's playing at the ba'?70He is King Henry's only son,And I like him warst of a'.

"He's headed like a buck," she said,"And backed like a bear,"—"Amen!" quoth the King, in the King's ain voice,75"He shall be my only heir."

The King look'd over his left shoulder,An angry man was he:"An it werna for the oath I sware,Earl Marshall, thou shouldst dee."80

FromMinstrelsy of the Scottish Border, i. 306.

"This ballad, notwithstanding its present appearance, has a claim to very high antiquity. It has been preserved by tradition; and is, perhaps, the most authentic instance of a long and very old poem, exclusively thus preserved. It is only known to a few old people upon the sequestered banks of the Ettrick, and is published, as written down from the recitation of the mother of Mr. James Hogg, who sings, or rather chants it, with great animation. She learned the ballad from a blind man, who died at the advanced age of ninety, and is said to have been possessed of much traditionary knowledge. Although the language of this poem is much modernized, yet many words, which the reciters have retained without understanding them, still preserve traces of its antiquity. Such are the wordsspringals(corruptedly pronouncedspringwalls),sowies,portcullize, and many other appropriate terms of war and chivalry, which could never have been introduced by a modern ballad-maker[?]. The incidents are striking and well managed; and they are in strict conformity with the manners of the age in which they are placed.

"The date of the ballad cannot be ascertained with any degree of accuracy. Sir Richard Maitland, thehero of the poem, seems to have been in possession of his estate about 1250; so that, as he survived the commencement of the wars betwixt England and Scotland, in 1296, his prowess against the English, in defence of his castle of Lauder or Thirlestane, must have been exerted during his extreme old age.

"The castle of Thirlestane is situated upon the Leader, near the town of Lauder. Whether the present building, which was erected by Chancellor Maitland, and improved by the duke of Lauderdale, occupies the site of the ancient castle, I do not know; but it still merits the epithet of a "darksome house." I find no notice of the siege in history; but there is nothing improbable in supposing, that the castle, during the stormy period of the Baliol wars, may have held out against the English. The creation of a nephew of Edward I., for the pleasure of slaying him by the hand of young Maitland, is a poetical license;[1]and may induce us to place the date of the composition about the reign of David II., or of his successor, when the real exploits of Maitland and his sons were in some degree obscured, as well as magnified, by the lapse of time. The inveterate hatred against the English, founded upon the usurpation of Edward I., glows in every line of the ballad.

"Auld Maitland is placed, by Gawain Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, among the popular heroes of romance, in his allegorical Palice of Honour.

"I saw Raf Coilyear with his thrawin brow,Crabit John the Reif, and auld Cowkilbeis Sow;And how the wran cam out of Ailesay,And Piers Plowman, that meid his workmen fow:Gret Gowmacmorne, and Fin Mac Cowl, and howThey suld be goddis in Ireland, as they say.Thair saw I Maitland upon auld beird gray,Robin Hude, and Gilbert with the quhite hand,How Hay of Nauchton flew in Madin land."

"It is a curious circumstance that this interesting tale, so often referred to by ancient authors, should be now recovered in so perfect a state; and many readers may be pleased to see the following sensible observations, made by a person born in Ettrick Forest, in the humble situation of a shepherd: 'I am surprised to hear that this song is suspected by some to be a modern forgery; the contrary will be best proved, by most of the old people, hereabouts, having a great part of it by heart. Many, indeed, are not aware of the manners of this country; till this present age, the poor illiterate people, in these glens, knew of no other entertainment, in the long winter nights, than repeating, and listening to, the feats of their ancestors, recorded in songs, which I believe to be handed down, from father to son, for many generations, although, no doubt, had a copy been taken, at the end of every fifty years, there must have been some difference, occasioned by the gradual change of language. I believe it is thus that many very ancient songs have been gradually modernized, to the common ear; while, to the connoisseur, they present marks of their genuine antiquity.'—Letter to the Editor,fromMr.James Hogg. [June 30, 1801.] To the observations of my ingenious correspondent Ihave nothing to add, but that, in this, and a thousand other instances, they accurately coincide with my personal knowledge."—Scott.

Notwithstanding the authority of Scott and Leyden, I am inclined to agree with Mr. Aytoun, (Ballads of Scotland, ii. 1,) that this ballad is a modern imitation, or if not that, a comparatively recent composition. It is with reluctance that I make for it the room it requires.

[1]Such liberties with the genealogy of monarchs were common to romancers. Henry the Minstrel makes Wallace slay more than one of King Edward's nephews; and Johnie Armstrong claims the merit of slaying a sister's son of Henry VIII.—S. (See p.49.)

There lived a king in southern land,King Edward hight his name;Unwordily he wore the crown,Till fifty years were gane.He had a sister's son o's ain,5Was large of blood and bane;And afterward, when he came up,Young Edward hight his name.One day he came before the king,And kneel'd low on his knee—10"A boon, a boon, my good uncle,I crave to ask of thee!"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,I fain hae wish'd to be;If fifteen hundred waled wight men15You'll grant to ride wi' me.""Thou sall hae thae, thou sall hae mae;I say it sickerlie;And I mysell, an auld gray man,Array'd your host sall see."20King Edward rade, King Edward ran—I wish him dool and pyne!Till he had fifteen hundred menAssembled on the Tyne.And thrice as many atBerwicke25Were all for battle bound,[Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,A ready welcome found.]They lighted on the banks of Tweed,And blew their coals sae het,30And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,All in an evening late.As they fared up o'er Lammermore,They burn'd baith up and down,Until they came to a darksome house,35Some call it Leader-Town."Wha hauds this house?" young Edward cry'd,"Or wha gies't ower to me?"A gray-hair'd knight set up his head,And crackit richt crousely:40"Of Scotland's king I haud my house;He pays me meat and fee;And I will keep my guid auld house,While my house will keep me."They laid their sowies to the wall,45Wi' mony a heavy peal;But he threw ower to them agenBaith pitch and tar barrel.With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn,Amang them fast he threw;50Till mony of the EnglishmenAbout the wall he slew.Full fifteen days that braid host lay,Sieging Auld Maitland keen;Syne they hae left him, hail and feir,55Within his strength of stane.Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,Met them upon a day,Which they did lade with as much spoilAs they could bear away.60"England's our ain by heritage;And what can us withstand,Now we hae conquer'd fair Scotland,With buckler, bow, and brand?"Then they are on to the land o' France,65Where auld King Edward lay,Burning baith castle, tower, and town,That he met in his way.Until he came unto that town,Which some callBillop-Grace;70There were Auld Maitland's sons, a' three,Learning at school, alas!The eldest to the youngest said,"O see ye what I see?Gin a' be trew yon standard says,75We're fatherless a' three."For Scotland's conquer'd up and down;Landmen we'll never be:Now, will you go, my brethren two,And try some jeopardy?"80Then they hae saddled twa black horse,Twa black horse and a gray;And they are on to King Edward's host,Before the dawn of day.When they arrived before the host,85They hover'd on the lay—"Wilt thou lend me our king's standard,To bear a little way?""Where wast thou bred? where wast thou born?Where, or in what countrie?"90"In north of England I was born:"(It needed him to lie.)"A knight me gat, a lady bore,I am a squire of high renowne;I well may bear't to any king,95That ever yet wore crowne.""He ne'er came of an Englishman,Had sic an ee or bree;But thou art the likest Auld Maitland,That ever I did see.100"But sic a gloom on ae browhead,Grant I ne'er see again!For mony of our men he slew,And mony put to pain."When Maitland heard his father's name,105An angry man was he!Then, lifting up a gilt dagger,Hung low down by his knee,He stabb'd the knight the standard bore,He stabb'd him cruellie;110Then caught the standard by the neuk,And fast away rode he."Now, is't na time, brothers," he cried,"Now, is't na time to flee?""Ay, by my sooth!" they baith replied,115"We'll bear you company."The youngest turn'd him in a path,And drew a burnish'd brand,And fifteen of the foremost slew,Till back the lave did stand.120He spurr'd the gray into the path,Till baith his sides they bled—"Gray! thou maun carry me away,Or my life lies in wad!"The captain lookit ower the wa',125About the break o' day;There he beheld the three Scots lads,Pursued along the way."Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg!My nephews are at hand;130And they sall lodge wi' me to-night,In spite of all England."Whene'er they came within the yate,They thrust their horse them frae,And took three lang spears in their hands,135Saying, "Here sall come nae mae!"And they shot out, and they shot in,Till it was fairly day;When mony of the EnglishmenAbout the draw-brigg lay.140Then they hae yoked carts and wains,To ca' their dead away,And shot auld dykes abune the lave,In gutters where they lay.The king, at his pavilion door,145Was heard aloud to say,"Last night, three o' the lads o' FranceMy standard stole away."Wi' a fause tale, disguised, they came,And wi' a fauser trayne;150And to regain my gaye standard,These men were a' down slayne.""It ill befits," the youngest said,"A crowned king to lie;But, or that I taste meat and drink,155Reproved sall he be."He went before King Edward straight,And kneel'd low on his knee;"I wad hae leave, my lord," he said,"To speak a word wi' thee."160The king he turn'd him round about,And wistna what to say—Quo' he, "Man, thou's hae leave to speak,Though thou should speak a' day.""Ye said that three young lads o' France165Your standard stole away,Wi' a fause tale, and a fauser trayne,And mony men did slay."But we are nane the lads o' France,Nor e'er pretend to be;170We are three lads o' fair Scotland,Auld Maitland's sons are we;"Nor is there men, in a' your host,Daur fight us three to three.""Now, by my sooth," young Edward said,175"Weel fitted ye sall be!"Piercy sall with the eldest fight,And Ethert Lunn wi' thee:William of Lancaster the third,And bring your fourth to me!"180["Remember, Piercy, aft the ScotHas cower'd beneath thy hand:]For every drap of Maitland blood,I'll gie a rig of land."He clanked Piercy ower the head,185A deep wound and a sair,Till the best blood o' his bodieCame rinning down his hair."Now, I've slayne ane; slay ye the twa;And that's gude companye;190And if the twa suld slay ye baith,Ye'se get na help frae me."But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear,Had many battles seen;He set the youngest wonder sair,195Till the eldest he grew keen."I am nae king, nor nae sic thing:My word it shanna stand!For Ethert sall a buffet bide,Come he beneath my brand."200He clankit Ethert ower the head,A deep wound and a sair,Till the best blood of his bodieCame rinning ower his hair."Now I've slayne twa; slaye ye the ane;205Isna that gude companye?And tho' the ane suld slaye ye baith,Ye'se get nae help o' me."The twa-some they hae slayne the ane;They maul'd him cruellie;210Then hung them over the draw-brigg,That all the host might see.They rade their horse, they ran their horse,Then hover'd on the lee:"We be three lads o' fair Scotland,215That fain would fighting see."This boasting when young Edward heard,An angry man was he:"I'll tak yon lad, I'll bind yon lad,And bring him bound to thee!"220"Now God forbid," King Edward said,"That ever thou suld try!Three worthy leaders we hae lost,And thou the fourth wad lie."If thou shouldst hang on yon draw-brigg,Blythe wad I never be:"But, wi' the poll-axe in his hand,Upon the brigg sprang he.The first stroke that young Edward gae,He struck wi' might and mayn;230He clove the Maitland's helmet stout,And bit right nigh the brayn.When Maitland saw his ain blood fa',An angry man was he:He let his weapon frae him fa',235And at his throat did flee.And thrice about he did him swing,Till on the grund he light,Where he has halden young Edward,Tho' he was great in might.240"Now let him up," King Edward cried,"And let him come to me:And for the deed that thou hast done,Thou shalt hae erldomes three.""It's ne'er be said in France, nor e'er245In Scotland, when I'm hame,That Edward once lay under me,And e'er gat up again!"He pierced him through and through the heart,He maul'd him cruellie;250Then hung him ower the draw-brigg,Beside the other three."Now take frae me that feather-bed,Make me a bed o' strae!I wish I hadna lived this day,255To mak my heart sae wae."If I were ance at London Tower,Where I was wont to be,I never mair suld gang frae hame,Till borne on a bier-tree."260

There lived a king in southern land,King Edward hight his name;Unwordily he wore the crown,Till fifty years were gane.

He had a sister's son o's ain,5Was large of blood and bane;And afterward, when he came up,Young Edward hight his name.

One day he came before the king,And kneel'd low on his knee—10"A boon, a boon, my good uncle,I crave to ask of thee!

"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,I fain hae wish'd to be;If fifteen hundred waled wight men15You'll grant to ride wi' me."

"Thou sall hae thae, thou sall hae mae;I say it sickerlie;And I mysell, an auld gray man,Array'd your host sall see."20

King Edward rade, King Edward ran—I wish him dool and pyne!Till he had fifteen hundred menAssembled on the Tyne.

And thrice as many atBerwicke25Were all for battle bound,[Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,A ready welcome found.]

They lighted on the banks of Tweed,And blew their coals sae het,30And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,All in an evening late.

As they fared up o'er Lammermore,They burn'd baith up and down,Until they came to a darksome house,35Some call it Leader-Town.

"Wha hauds this house?" young Edward cry'd,"Or wha gies't ower to me?"A gray-hair'd knight set up his head,And crackit richt crousely:40

"Of Scotland's king I haud my house;He pays me meat and fee;And I will keep my guid auld house,While my house will keep me."

They laid their sowies to the wall,45Wi' mony a heavy peal;But he threw ower to them agenBaith pitch and tar barrel.

With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn,Amang them fast he threw;50Till mony of the EnglishmenAbout the wall he slew.

Full fifteen days that braid host lay,Sieging Auld Maitland keen;Syne they hae left him, hail and feir,55Within his strength of stane.

Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,Met them upon a day,Which they did lade with as much spoilAs they could bear away.60

"England's our ain by heritage;And what can us withstand,Now we hae conquer'd fair Scotland,With buckler, bow, and brand?"

Then they are on to the land o' France,65Where auld King Edward lay,Burning baith castle, tower, and town,That he met in his way.

Until he came unto that town,Which some callBillop-Grace;70There were Auld Maitland's sons, a' three,Learning at school, alas!

The eldest to the youngest said,"O see ye what I see?Gin a' be trew yon standard says,75We're fatherless a' three.

"For Scotland's conquer'd up and down;Landmen we'll never be:Now, will you go, my brethren two,And try some jeopardy?"80

Then they hae saddled twa black horse,Twa black horse and a gray;And they are on to King Edward's host,Before the dawn of day.

When they arrived before the host,85They hover'd on the lay—"Wilt thou lend me our king's standard,To bear a little way?"

"Where wast thou bred? where wast thou born?Where, or in what countrie?"90"In north of England I was born:"(It needed him to lie.)

"A knight me gat, a lady bore,I am a squire of high renowne;I well may bear't to any king,95That ever yet wore crowne."

"He ne'er came of an Englishman,Had sic an ee or bree;But thou art the likest Auld Maitland,That ever I did see.100

"But sic a gloom on ae browhead,Grant I ne'er see again!For mony of our men he slew,And mony put to pain."

When Maitland heard his father's name,105An angry man was he!Then, lifting up a gilt dagger,Hung low down by his knee,

He stabb'd the knight the standard bore,He stabb'd him cruellie;110Then caught the standard by the neuk,And fast away rode he.

"Now, is't na time, brothers," he cried,"Now, is't na time to flee?""Ay, by my sooth!" they baith replied,115"We'll bear you company."

The youngest turn'd him in a path,And drew a burnish'd brand,And fifteen of the foremost slew,Till back the lave did stand.120

He spurr'd the gray into the path,Till baith his sides they bled—"Gray! thou maun carry me away,Or my life lies in wad!"

The captain lookit ower the wa',125About the break o' day;There he beheld the three Scots lads,Pursued along the way.

"Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg!My nephews are at hand;130And they sall lodge wi' me to-night,In spite of all England."

Whene'er they came within the yate,They thrust their horse them frae,And took three lang spears in their hands,135Saying, "Here sall come nae mae!"

And they shot out, and they shot in,Till it was fairly day;When mony of the EnglishmenAbout the draw-brigg lay.140

Then they hae yoked carts and wains,To ca' their dead away,And shot auld dykes abune the lave,In gutters where they lay.

The king, at his pavilion door,145Was heard aloud to say,"Last night, three o' the lads o' FranceMy standard stole away.

"Wi' a fause tale, disguised, they came,And wi' a fauser trayne;150And to regain my gaye standard,These men were a' down slayne."

"It ill befits," the youngest said,"A crowned king to lie;But, or that I taste meat and drink,155Reproved sall he be."

He went before King Edward straight,And kneel'd low on his knee;"I wad hae leave, my lord," he said,"To speak a word wi' thee."160

The king he turn'd him round about,And wistna what to say—Quo' he, "Man, thou's hae leave to speak,Though thou should speak a' day."

"Ye said that three young lads o' France165Your standard stole away,Wi' a fause tale, and a fauser trayne,And mony men did slay.

"But we are nane the lads o' France,Nor e'er pretend to be;170We are three lads o' fair Scotland,Auld Maitland's sons are we;

"Nor is there men, in a' your host,Daur fight us three to three.""Now, by my sooth," young Edward said,175"Weel fitted ye sall be!

"Piercy sall with the eldest fight,And Ethert Lunn wi' thee:William of Lancaster the third,And bring your fourth to me!"180

["Remember, Piercy, aft the ScotHas cower'd beneath thy hand:]For every drap of Maitland blood,I'll gie a rig of land."

He clanked Piercy ower the head,185A deep wound and a sair,Till the best blood o' his bodieCame rinning down his hair.

"Now, I've slayne ane; slay ye the twa;And that's gude companye;190And if the twa suld slay ye baith,Ye'se get na help frae me."

But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear,Had many battles seen;He set the youngest wonder sair,195Till the eldest he grew keen.

"I am nae king, nor nae sic thing:My word it shanna stand!For Ethert sall a buffet bide,Come he beneath my brand."200

He clankit Ethert ower the head,A deep wound and a sair,Till the best blood of his bodieCame rinning ower his hair.

"Now I've slayne twa; slaye ye the ane;205Isna that gude companye?And tho' the ane suld slaye ye baith,Ye'se get nae help o' me."

The twa-some they hae slayne the ane;They maul'd him cruellie;210Then hung them over the draw-brigg,That all the host might see.

They rade their horse, they ran their horse,Then hover'd on the lee:"We be three lads o' fair Scotland,215That fain would fighting see."

This boasting when young Edward heard,An angry man was he:"I'll tak yon lad, I'll bind yon lad,And bring him bound to thee!"220

"Now God forbid," King Edward said,"That ever thou suld try!Three worthy leaders we hae lost,And thou the fourth wad lie.

"If thou shouldst hang on yon draw-brigg,Blythe wad I never be:"But, wi' the poll-axe in his hand,Upon the brigg sprang he.

The first stroke that young Edward gae,He struck wi' might and mayn;230He clove the Maitland's helmet stout,And bit right nigh the brayn.

When Maitland saw his ain blood fa',An angry man was he:He let his weapon frae him fa',235And at his throat did flee.

And thrice about he did him swing,Till on the grund he light,Where he has halden young Edward,Tho' he was great in might.240

"Now let him up," King Edward cried,"And let him come to me:And for the deed that thou hast done,Thou shalt hae erldomes three."

"It's ne'er be said in France, nor e'er245In Scotland, when I'm hame,That Edward once lay under me,And e'er gat up again!"

He pierced him through and through the heart,He maul'd him cruellie;250Then hung him ower the draw-brigg,Beside the other three.

"Now take frae me that feather-bed,Make me a bed o' strae!I wish I hadna lived this day,255To mak my heart sae wae.

"If I were ance at London Tower,Where I was wont to be,I never mair suld gang frae hame,Till borne on a bier-tree."260

25. North-Berwick, according to some reciters.—S.27, 28. These two lines have been inserted by Mr. Hogg, to complete the verse. Dunbar, the fortress of Patrick, Earl of March, was too often opened to the English, by the treachery of that baron, during the reign of Edward I.—S.70. If this be a Flemish or Scottish corruption for Ville de Grace, in Normandy, that town was never besieged by Edward I., whose wars in France were confined to the province of Gascony. The rapid change of scene, from Scotland to France, excites a suspicion that some verses may have been lost in this place.—S.75. Edward had quartered the arms of Scotland with his own.—S.181, 182, supplied by Hogg.247. Some reciters repeat it thus:—"ThatEnglishmanlay under me,"which is in the true spirit of Blind Harry, who makes Wallace say,"I better like to see the Southeron die,Than gold or land, that they can gie to me."—S.

25. North-Berwick, according to some reciters.—S.

27, 28. These two lines have been inserted by Mr. Hogg, to complete the verse. Dunbar, the fortress of Patrick, Earl of March, was too often opened to the English, by the treachery of that baron, during the reign of Edward I.—S.

70. If this be a Flemish or Scottish corruption for Ville de Grace, in Normandy, that town was never besieged by Edward I., whose wars in France were confined to the province of Gascony. The rapid change of scene, from Scotland to France, excites a suspicion that some verses may have been lost in this place.—S.

75. Edward had quartered the arms of Scotland with his own.—S.

181, 182, supplied by Hogg.

247. Some reciters repeat it thus:—

"ThatEnglishmanlay under me,"

which is in the true spirit of Blind Harry, who makes Wallace say,

"I better like to see the Southeron die,Than gold or land, that they can gie to me."—S.

After the battle of Roslin, we are informed by Bower, the continuator of Fordun'sScotichronicon, Wallace took ship for France, and various songs, both in that kingdom and in Scotland, he goes on to say, bear witness to the courage with which he encountered the attacks of pirates on the ocean, and of the English on the continent. Whatever we may thinkof Wallace's expedition to France, there can be no doubt that the hero's exploits were at an early date celebrated in popular song. Still, the ballads which are preserved relate to only one of Wallace's adventures, and are of doubtful antiquity.

Burns communicated to Johnson'sMuseum(p. 498) a defective ballad calledGude Wallace. A better copy of this, from tradition, is here given. It is taken from Buchan'sGleanings(p. 114), and was derived by the editor from a wandering gipsy tinker. Mr. Laing has inserted in the notes to the new edition of Johnson'sMuseum(iv. 458*) what may perhaps be the original of both these recited ballads, though inferior to either. This copy appeared in a chap-book with some Jacobite ballads, about the year 1750. There are two other versions of this same story, in which Wallace's mistress is induced to betray him to the English, but repents in time to save her lover.The best of these is annexed to the present ballad. The other, which is but a fragment, is printed in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 226,Wallace and his Leman.

The principal incidents of this story are to be found in the Fifth Book of Blind Harry's MetricalLife of Wallace.

Jamieson, inPopular Ballads, ii. 166, and Cunningham, inThe Songs of Scotland, i. 262, have taken the stanzas in Johnson'sMuseumas the basis of ballads of their own.

Wallace in the high highlans,Neither meat nor drink got he;Said, "Fa' me life, or fa' me death,Now to some town I maun be."He's put on his short claiding,5And on his short claiding put he;Says, "Fa' me life, or fa' me death,Now to Perth-town I maun be."He stepped o'er the river Tay,I wat he stepped on dry land;10He wasna aware of a well-fared maidWas washing there her lilie hands."What news, what news, ye well-fared maid?What news hae ye this day to me?""No news, no news, ye gentle knight,15No news hae I this day to thee,But fifteen lords in the hostage houseWaiting Wallace for to see.""If I had but in my pocketThe worth of one single pennie,20I would go to the hostage house,And there the gentlemen to see."She put her hand in her pocket,And she has pull'd out half-a-crown;Says, "Take ye that, ye belted knight,25'Twill pay your way till ye come down."As he went from the well-fared maid,A beggar bold I wat met he,Was cover'd wi' a clouted cloak,And in his hand a trusty tree.30"What news, what news, ye silly auld man?What news hae ye this day to gie?""No news, no news, ye belted knight,No news hae I this day to thee,But fifteen lords in the hostage house35Waiting Wallace for to see.""Ye'll lend me your clouted cloak,That covers you frae head to shie,And I'll go to the hostage house,Asking there for some supplie."40Now he's gone to the West-muir wood,And there he's pull'd a trusty tree;And then he's on to the hostage gone,Asking there for charitie.Down the stair the captain comes,45Aye the poor man for to see:"If ye be a captain as good as ye look,Ye'll give a poor man some supplie;If ye be a captain as good as ye look,A guinea this day ye'll gie to me."50"Where were ye born, ye crooked carle?Where were ye born, in what countrie?""In fair Scotland I was born,Crooked carle that I be.""I would give you fifty pounds,55Of gold and white monie,I would give you fifty pounds,If the traitor Wallace ye'd let me see.""Tell down your money," said Willie Wallace,"Tell down your money, if it be good;60I'm sure I have it in my power,And never had a better bode."Tell down your money, if it be good,And let me see if it be fine;I'm sure I have it in my power65To bring the traitor Wallace in."The money was told on the table,Silver bright of pounds fiftie:"Now here I stand," said Willie Wallace,"And what hae ye to say to me?"70He slew the captain where he stood,The rest they did quack an' roar;He slew the rest around the room,And ask'd if there were any more."Come, cover the table," said Willie Wallace,75"Come, cover the table now, make haste;For it will soon be three lang daysSin I a bit o' meat did taste."The table was not well covered,Nor yet was he set down to dine,80Till fifteen more of the English lordsSurrounded the house where he was in.The guidwife she ran but the floor,And aye the guidman he ran ben;From eight o'clock till four at noon85He had kill'd full thirty men.He put the house in sic a switherThat five o' them he sticket dead,Five o' them he drown'd in the river,And five hung in the West-muir wood.90Now he is on to theNorth-Inchgone,Where the maid was washing tenderlie;"Now by my sooth," said Willie Wallace,"It's been a sair day's wark to me."He's put his hand in his pocket,95And he has pull'd out twenty pounds;Says, "Take ye that, ye weel-fared maidFor the gude luck of your half-crown."

Wallace in the high highlans,Neither meat nor drink got he;Said, "Fa' me life, or fa' me death,Now to some town I maun be."

He's put on his short claiding,5And on his short claiding put he;Says, "Fa' me life, or fa' me death,Now to Perth-town I maun be."

He stepped o'er the river Tay,I wat he stepped on dry land;10He wasna aware of a well-fared maidWas washing there her lilie hands.

"What news, what news, ye well-fared maid?What news hae ye this day to me?""No news, no news, ye gentle knight,15No news hae I this day to thee,But fifteen lords in the hostage houseWaiting Wallace for to see."

"If I had but in my pocketThe worth of one single pennie,20I would go to the hostage house,And there the gentlemen to see."

She put her hand in her pocket,And she has pull'd out half-a-crown;Says, "Take ye that, ye belted knight,25'Twill pay your way till ye come down."

As he went from the well-fared maid,A beggar bold I wat met he,Was cover'd wi' a clouted cloak,And in his hand a trusty tree.30

"What news, what news, ye silly auld man?What news hae ye this day to gie?""No news, no news, ye belted knight,No news hae I this day to thee,But fifteen lords in the hostage house35Waiting Wallace for to see."

"Ye'll lend me your clouted cloak,That covers you frae head to shie,And I'll go to the hostage house,Asking there for some supplie."40

Now he's gone to the West-muir wood,And there he's pull'd a trusty tree;And then he's on to the hostage gone,Asking there for charitie.

Down the stair the captain comes,45Aye the poor man for to see:"If ye be a captain as good as ye look,Ye'll give a poor man some supplie;If ye be a captain as good as ye look,A guinea this day ye'll gie to me."50

"Where were ye born, ye crooked carle?Where were ye born, in what countrie?""In fair Scotland I was born,Crooked carle that I be."

"I would give you fifty pounds,55Of gold and white monie,I would give you fifty pounds,If the traitor Wallace ye'd let me see."

"Tell down your money," said Willie Wallace,"Tell down your money, if it be good;60I'm sure I have it in my power,And never had a better bode.

"Tell down your money, if it be good,And let me see if it be fine;I'm sure I have it in my power65To bring the traitor Wallace in."

The money was told on the table,Silver bright of pounds fiftie:"Now here I stand," said Willie Wallace,"And what hae ye to say to me?"70

He slew the captain where he stood,The rest they did quack an' roar;He slew the rest around the room,And ask'd if there were any more.

"Come, cover the table," said Willie Wallace,75"Come, cover the table now, make haste;For it will soon be three lang daysSin I a bit o' meat did taste."

The table was not well covered,Nor yet was he set down to dine,80Till fifteen more of the English lordsSurrounded the house where he was in.

The guidwife she ran but the floor,And aye the guidman he ran ben;From eight o'clock till four at noon85He had kill'd full thirty men.

He put the house in sic a switherThat five o' them he sticket dead,Five o' them he drown'd in the river,And five hung in the West-muir wood.90

Now he is on to theNorth-Inchgone,Where the maid was washing tenderlie;"Now by my sooth," said Willie Wallace,"It's been a sair day's wark to me."

He's put his hand in his pocket,95And he has pull'd out twenty pounds;Says, "Take ye that, ye weel-fared maidFor the gude luck of your half-crown."

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