Chapter XXV: Part VI (7)

In the letter sent to Henry VIII in France James included the slaughter of Andrew Barton among the unredressed grievances of which he had to complain. A few days before the battle of Flodden, Lord Thomas Howard, then admiral, used the occasion of his father’s dispatching a herald to the King of Scots to say that “inasmuch as the said king had divers and many times caused the said lord to be called at days of true to make redress for Andrew Barton, a pirate of the sea long before that vanquished by the same Lord Admiral, he was now come, in his own proper person, to be in the vanguard of the field, to justify the death of the said Andrew against him and all his people, and would see what could be laid to his charge the said day:” Hall’s Chronicle, ed. 1809, p. 558.

There is a slight resemblance in one or two particulars, such as might be expected from similarity of circumstances, between this ballad and ‘Durham Field.’ In the latter the King of Scots swears that he will hold his parliament in leeve London, st. 6. A squire warns him that there are bold yeomen in England; the king is angry, draws his sword, and kills the squire, 7–9. In ‘Scotish Ffeilde,’ Percy Folio, Hales and Furnivall, I, 217,[217] the French king says there is nothing left in England save millers and mass-priests, v. 109; and in the poem on Flodden, reprinted by Weber, and recently by Federer,[218] Lord Home makes this same assertion, Weber, p. 10, 187–92; Federer, p. 8, sts 46, 47. Cf. ‘Durham Field,’ p. 282.

The forged manuscript formerly in the possession of J. Payne Collier, containing thirty ballads alleged to be of the early part of the seventeenth century, has for the second piece in the volume a transcript of this ballad, with variations.

The battle of Flodden called out a great deal of verse. The most notable pieces are two already referred to, and a third which will be given here in an appendix; the less important will be found in Weber’s volume.

1
King Jamie hath made a vow,
Keepe it well if he may!
That he will be at lovely London
Upon Saint James his day.

2
‘Upon Saint James his day at noone,
At faire London will I be,
And all the lords in merrie Scotland,
They shall dine there with me.’

3
Then bespake good Queene Margaret,
The teares fell from her eye:
‘Leave off these warres, most noble king,
Keepe your fidelitie.

4
‘The water runnes swift and wondrous deepe,
From bottome unto the brimme;
My brother Henry hath men good enough;
England is hard to winne.’

5
‘Away,’ quoth he, ‘with this silly foole!
In prison fast let her lie:
For she is come of the English bloud,
And for these words she shall dye.’

6
With that bespake Lord Thomas Howard,
The queenes chamberlaine that day:
‘If that you put Queene Margaret to death,
Scotland shall rue it alway.’

7
Then in a rage King Jamie did say,
‘Away with this foolish mome!
He shall be hanged, and the other be burned,
So soone as I come home.’

8
At Flodden Field the Scots came in,
Which made our English men faine;
At Bramstone Greene this battaile was seene,
There was King Jamie slaine.

9
Then presently the Scots did flie,
Their cannons they left behind;
Their ensignes gay were won all away,
Our souldiers did beate them blinde.

10
To tell you plaine, twelve thousand were slaine
That to the fight did stand,
And many prisoners tooke that day,
The best in all Scotland.

11
That day made many [a] fatherlesse child,
And many a widow poore,
And many a Scottish gay lady
Sate weeping in her bower.

12
Jack with a feather was lapt all in leather,
His boastings were all in vaine;
He had such a chance, with a new morrice-dance,
He never went home againe.

* * * * *

3^1. he spake.

_The copy followed by Ritson puts st. 11 after 5. The principal
variations of the Collier copy may be given, though they are
without authority or merit._

_After 2_:
March out, march out, my merry men,
Of hie or low degree;
I’le weare the crowne in London towne,
And that you soone shall see.

4^4. To venture life and limme.

Then doe not goe from faire Scotland,
But stay thy realm within;
Your power, I weene, is all to weake,
And England hard to winne.

5^1. this sillie mome.

7^2. this other mome.

_After 8_:
His bodie never could be found,
When he was over throwne,
And he that wore faire Scotlands crowne
That day could not be knowne.

_For 12, to adapt the piece to the seventeenth century_:
Now heaven we laude that never more
Such tiding shall come to hand;
Our king, by othe, is king of both
England and faire Scotland.