The youngest turn'd him in a path,
And drew a burnished brand,
And fifteen of the foremost slew,
Till back the lave did stand.
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',
About 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;
And 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,
Saying, "Here sall come nae mae!".
And they shot out, and they shot in,
Till it was fairly day;
When mony of the Englishmen
About the draw-brigg lay.
Then they hae yoked carts and wains,
To ca' their dead away,
And shot auld dykes aboon the lave,
In gutters where they lay.
The king, at his pavilion door,
Was heard aloud to say,
"Last night, three o' the lads o' France
"My standard stole away.
"Wi' a fause tale, disguised, they came,
"And wi' a fauser trayne;
"And 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,
"Reproved sall he be."
He went before King Edward strait,
And kneel'd low on his knee;
"I wad hae leave, my lord," he said,
"To speak a word wi' thee."
The king he turned him round about,
And wistna what to say—
Quo' he, "Man, thou's hae leave to speak,
Tho' thou should speak a' day."
"Ye said, that three young lads o' France
"Your standard stole away,
"Wi' a fause tale, and fauser trayne,
"And mony men did slay:
"But we are nane the lads o' France,
"Nor e'er pretend to be;
"We 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,
"Weel fitted ye sall be!
"Piercy sall wi' the eldest fight,
"And Ethert Lunn wi' thee;
"William of Lancaster the third,
"And bring your fourth to me!"
"Remember, Piercy, aft the Scot[94]
"Has cow'rd beneath thy hand:
"For every drap of Maitland blood,
"I'll gie a rigg of land."
He clanked Piercy ower the head,
A deep wound and a sair,
Till the best blood o' his bodie
Cam rinning down his hair.
"Now, I've slayne ane; slay ye the twa;
"And that's gude companye;
"And if the twa suld slay you baith,
"Ye'se get na help frae me."
But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear,
Had many battles seen;
He set the youngest wonder sair,
Till the eldest he grew keen—
"I am nae king, nor nae sic thing:
"My word it shanna stand!
"For Ethert sail a buffet bide,
"Come he beneath my brand."
He clanked Ethert ower the head,
A deep wound and a sair,
Till the best blood of his bodie
Cam rinning ower his hair.
"Now I've slayne twa; slay ye the ane;
"Is na that gude companye?
"And tho' the ane suld slay ye baith,
"Ye'se get na help o' me."
The twa-some they hae slayne the ane;
They maul'd him cruellie;
Then hung them over the draw-brigg,
That all the host might see.
They rade their horse, they ran their horse,
Then hovered on the lee;
"We be three lads o' fair Scotland,
"That fain wad fighting see."
This boasting, when young Edward heard.
An angry man was he!
"I'll take yon lad, I'll bind yon lad,
"And bring him bound to thee!"
"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 should'st 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;
He clove the Maitlan'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',
And 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.
"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!"
"Its ne'er be said in France, nor e'er
In 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;
Then hung him ower the draw-brigg,
Beside the other three.
"Now, take frae me that feather-bed!
"Mak me a bed o' strae!
"I wish I had na lived this day,
"To 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."
NOTES ON AULD MAITLAND.
Young Edward hight his name.—P, 25. v. 2.
Were it possible to find an authority for calling this personage
Edmund, we should be a step nearer history; for a brother,
though not a nephew of Edward I., so named, died in Gascony during an
unsuccessful campaign against the French.—Knighton, Lib. III.
cap. 8.
I wish him dool and pyne.—P. 26. v. 3.
Thus, Spenser, in Mother Huberd's tale—
Thus is this ape become a shepherd swain,
And the false fox his dog, God give them pain!
Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,
A ready welcome found.—P. 26. v. 4.
These two lines are modern, and inserted to complete the verse.
Dunbar, the fortress of Patrick, Earl of March, was too often opened
[39]
to the English, by the treachery of that baron, during the reign of
Edward I.
They laid their sowies to the wall,
Wi' many a heavy peal.—P. 27. v. 4.
In this and the following verse, the attack and defence of a
fortress, during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is described
accurately and concisely. The sow was a military engine, resembling
the Roman testudo. It was framed of wood, covered with hides,
and mounted on wheels, so that, being rolled forwards to the foot
of the besieged wall, it served as a shed, or cover, to defend the
miners, or those who wrought the battering ram, from the stones and
arrows of the garrison. In the course of the famous defence, made by
Black Agnes, Countess of March, of her husband's castle of Dunbar,
Montague, Earl of Salisbury, who commanded the besiegers, caused one
of these engines to be wheeled up to the wall. The countess, who, with
her damsels, kept her station on the battlements, and affected to wipe
off with her handkerchief the dust raised by the stones, hurled from
the English machines, awaited the approach of this new engine of
assault. "Beware, Montague," she exclaimed, while the fragment of a
rock was discharged from the wall—"Beware, Montague! for farrow shall
thy sow!"[95] Their cover being dashed to pieces, the assailants, with
great loss and difficulty, scrambled back to their trenches. "By
the regard of suche a ladye," would Froissart have said, "and by her
comforting, a man ought to be worth two men, at need." The sow was
called by the French Truie.—See Hailes' Annals,
Vol. II. p. 89. Wintown's Cronykil, Book VIII. William of
Malmesbury, Lib. IV.
The memory of the sow is preserved in Scotland by two
trifling circumstances. The name given to an oblong hay-stack, is a
[40]
hay-sow; and this may give us a good idea of the form of the
machine. Children also play at a game with cherry stones, placing a
small heap on the ground, which they term a sowie, endeavouring
to hit it, by throwing single cherry-stones, as the sow was formerly
battered from the walls of the besieged fortress. My companions,
at the High School of Edinburgh, will remember what was meant by
berrying a sowie. It is strange to find traces of military
antiquities in the occupation of the husbandman, and the sports of
children.
The pitch and tar-barrels of Maitland were intended to consume the
formidable machines of the English. Thus, at a fabulous siege of York,
by Sir William Wallace, the same mode of defence is adopted:
The Englishmen, that cruel were and kene,
Keeped their town, and fended there full fast;
Faggots of fire among the host they cast,
Up pitch and tar on feil sowis they lent;
Many were hurt ere they from the walls went;
Stones on Springalds they did cast out so fast,
And goads of iron made many grome agast.
Henry the Minstrel's History of Wallace.—B. 8. c. 5.
A more authentic illustration may be derived from Barbour's Account
of the Siege of Berwick, by Edward II., in 1319, when a sow
was brought on to the attack by the English, and burned by the
combustibles hurled down upon it, through the device of John Crab, a
Flemish engineer, in the Scottish service.
And thai, that at the sege lay,
Or it was passyt the fyft day,
Had made thaim syndry apparall,
To gang eft sonys till assaill.
Off gret gests a sow thai maid,
That stalwart heildyne aboyne it haid;
With armyt men inew tharin,
And instruments for to myne.
Syndry scaffalds thai maid withall,
That war wele heyar than the wall,
And ordanyt als that, be the se,
The town suld weill assaillyt be.
Thai within, that saw thaim swa,
Swa gret apparaill schap to ma,
Throw Craby's cunsaill, that wes sley,
A crane thai haiff gert dress up hey,
Rynnand on quheills, that thai micht bryng
It quhar that nede war off helping.
And pyk, and ter, als haiff thai tane;
And lynt, and herds, and brymstane;
And dry treyis that wele wald brin,
And mellyt aythir other in:
And gret fagalds thairoff thai maid,
Gyrdyt with irne bands braid.
The fagalds weill mycht mesuryt be,
Till a gret towrys quantite.
The fagalds bryning in a ball,
With thair cran thoucht till awaill;
And giff the sow come to the wall,
To lat it brynand on her fall;
And with stark chenyeis hald it thar,
Quhill all war brynt up that thar war.