THE Queen of England, who was very anxious to defend her kingdom and guard it from all disturbers, in order to show that she was in earnest about it came herself to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. She took up her residence there, to wait for the forces she expected from different parts of the kingdom. The Scots, who were informed that Newcastle was the place of rendezvous of the English army, advanced thither, and sent their vanguard to skirmish near the town; who, on their return, burnt some hamlets adjoining to it. The smoke and flames came into the town, which made the English impatient to sally out upon those who had done this mischief; but their leaders would not permit them. On the morrow the King of Scotland, with full forty thousand men, including all sorts, advanced within three short English miles of Newcastle, and took up his quarters on the land of the Lord Neville. He sent to inform the army in the town, that, if they were willing to come forth, he would wait for The Queen of England came to the place where her army was, and remained until it was drawn out in four battalions. The first was under the command of the Bishop of Durham and the Lord Percy; the second, under the Archbishop of York and the Lord Neville; the third, under the Bishop of Lincoln and Lord Mowbray; the fourth was commanded by Lord Baliol, governor of Berwick, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Lord Roos. Each battalion had its just proportion of men at arms and archers, as was expedient. The queen now advanced among them, and entreated them to do their duty well in defending the honor of their lord and king, and urged them, for the love of God, to fight manfully. They promised her that they would acquit themselves loyally, to the utmost of their power, and perhaps better than if the king had been there in person. The queen then took her leave, and recommended them to the protection of God and St. George. The two armies were soon after in motion, and the archers on each side began to shoot; but those of the Scots did not long continue it, while the English shot incessantly. When the battalions were got into close combat, the engagement was sharp and well fought. The battle began about nine o’clock, and lasted until noon. The Scots had very hard and sharp axes, with [The old ballad of “Durham Feilde” sings the battle of Neville’s Cross described in the foregoing chapter, calling it “Durham Field” after the Bishop of Durham, who led the English. The poem is divided into two parts, of which only the second is here given on account of its length. The First Part relates, in true old-servant style, how the King of Scotland was informed that the King of England was gone into France with all his soldiers, leaving none behind but “Shepherds and millers, And priests with shaven crowns; “They be but English knaves, But shepherds and millers both, And mass priests with their staves;” and sends his herald to view them. When the herald returns, “Who leads those lads?” said the King of Scots, “Thou herald, tell thou me.” The herald said, “The Bishop of Durham Is captain of that companye; For the Bishop hath spread the King’s banner, And to battell he buskes him boune.” “I sweare by St. Andrewe’s bones,” saies the King, “I’ll rapp that priest on the crowne!” But presently a very different tale is told in PART II. The King looked towards litle Durham, & that hee well beheld, that the Earle Percy was well armed, with his battell axe entred the feild. the King looket againe towards litle Durham, 4 ancyents there were to he cold not see them with his eye. My Lord of yorke was one of them, my lord of Carlile was the other; the one came with the other. the Bishopp of Durham commanded his men, & shortlye he them bade, ‘that never a man shold goe to the feild to fight til he had served his god.’ 500 priests said masse that day in durham in the feild; & afterwards, as I hard say, they bare both speare & sheeld. the Bishopp of Durham orders himselfe to fight with his battell axe in hand; he said, “this day now I will fight as long as I can stand!” “& soe will I,” sayd my Lord of Carlile, “in this faire morning gay;” “& soe will I,” said my Lord ffluwilliams, “for Mary, that myld may.” our English archers bent their bowes shortlye and anon, they shott over the Scottish oast & scantlye toucht a man. “hold downe your hands,” sayd the Bishopp of Durham, “my archers good & true.” the 2? shoote that thÉ full sore the Scottes itt rue. the Bishopp of Durham spoke on hye that both partyes might heare, “be of good cheere, my merrymen all, the Scotts flyen, but as thÉ saidden, soe thÉ didden, they fell on heapes hye; our Englishmen laid on with their bowes as fast as they might dree. The King of Scotts in a studye stood amongst his companye, an arrow stoke him thorrow the nose & thorrow his armorye. The King went to a marsh side & light beside his steede, and leaned him down on his sword hilt, to let his nose bleede. there followed him a yeoman of merry England, his name was John of Coplande; “yeeld thee Traytor!” saies Coplande then, “thy liffe lyes in my hand.” “how shold I yeeld me?” sayes the King, “& thou art noe gentleman.” “noe, by my troth,” sayes Copland there, “I am but a poore yeoman;” “what art thou better then I, Sir King? tell me if that thou can! what art thou better then I, Sir King, now we be but man to man?” the King smote angerly at Copland then, angerly in that stonde; & then Copland was a bold yeoman, & bore the King to the ground. he sett the King upon a Palfrey, himselfe upon a steede, he tooke him by the bridle rayne, towards London he can & when to London that he came, the King from ffrance was new come home. & there unto the King of Scottes he sayd these words anon, “how like you my shepards & my millers, my priests with shaven crownes?” “by my fayth, they are the sorest fighting men that ever I mett on the ground; “there was never a yeoman in merry England but he was worth a Scottish knight!” “I, “for you fought all against the right.” but now the Prince of merry England worthilye under his Sheelde hath taken the King of ffrance at Poytiers in the ffeelde. the Prince did present his father with that food, the lovely King off ffrance, & fforward of his Iourney he is gone: god send us all good chance! “you are welcome, brothers!” sayd the King of Scotts, to the King of ffrance, “for I am come hither too soone; Christ leeve that I had taken my way unto the court of Roone!” “& soe wold I,” said the King of ffrance, “when I came over the streame, that I had taken my Iourney unto Ierusalem.” Thus ends the battell of ffaire Durham in one morning of may, All within one monthes day. then was welthe and welfare in mery England, Solaces, game, & glee, & every man loved other well, & the King loved good yeomanrye but God that made the grasse to growe, & leaves on greenwoode tree, now save & keepe our noble King, & maintaine good yeomanry! ffinis.] |