Yet that unluckie country still,
Hath people given to craftie will.
Alas for woe, &c.

On Whitsun eve it so befell,

A posset was made to give the king, Whereof his ladie nurse hard tell,

And that it was a poysoned thing:
She cryed, and called piteouslie:
Now help, or els the king shall die!
Alas for woe, &c.

One Browne, that was an English man,
And hard the ladies piteous crye,
Out with his sword, and bestir'd him than,
Out of the doores in haste to flie;

But all the doores were made so fast,
Out of a window he got at last.
Alas, for woe, &c.

He met the bishop coming fast,

Having the posset in his hande:
The sight of Browne made him aghast,
Who bad him stoutly staie and stand.
With him were two that ranne awa,
For feare that Browne would make a fray.
Alas, for woe, &c.

Bishop, quoth Browne, what hast thou there?
Nothing at all, my friend, sayde he;

But a posset to make the king good cheere.

First I will have thyself begin,

Is it so sayd Browne, that will I see,

Before thou go any further in;

Be it weale or woe, it shall be so,

This makes a sorrowful heigh ho.

Alas, he said, unhappie realme,

My father, and grandfather slaine: My mother banished, O extreame! Unhappy fate, and bitter bayne! And now like treason wrought for me, What more unhappie realme can be! Alas for woe, &c.

The king did call his nurse to his grace, And gave her twenty poundes a yeere; And trustie Browne too in like case,

He knighted him with gallant geere:
And gave him lands and livings great,
For dooing such a manly feat,

As he did showe, to the bishop's woe,
Which made, &c.

When all this treason done and past,
Tooke not effect of traytery:

Another treason at the last,

They sought against his majestie:

How they might make their kinge away,

By a privie banket on a daye.
Alas for woe, &c.

Another time' to sell the king

Beyonde the seas they had decreede : Three noble Earles heard of this thing,

And did prevent the same with speede. For a letter came, with such a charme, That they should doo their king no harme: For further woe, if they did soe, Would make a sorrowful heigh hoe.

The Earle Mourton told the Douglas then,
Take heede you do not offend the king;
But shew yourselves like honest men
Obediently in every thing;

For his godmother will not sce
Her noble child misus'd to be

With any woe; for if it be so,
She will make, &c.

God graunt all subjects may be true, In England, Scotland, every where: That no such daunger may ensue,

To put the prince or state in feare: That God the highest king may see Obedience as it ought to be,

A just rewarde for his traitery.

This was a posset indeed, quoth Brown! He serched the bishop, and found the keyes, To come to the kinge when he did please. Alas for woe, &c.

110

In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so To avoide the sorrowful heigh ho.

And praysed God that he did misse, To tast of that extremity:

For that he did perceive and know,

143

XVII.

In December 1591, Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, had made an attempt to seize on the person of his sovereign James VI. but being disappointed, had retired towards the north. The king unadvisedly gave a commission to George Gordon Earl of Huntley, to pursue Bothwell and his followers with fire and sword. Huntley, under cover of executing that commission, took occasion to revenge a private quarrel he had against James Stewart Earl of Murray, a relation of Bothwell's. In the night of Feb. 7, 1592, he beset Murray's house, burnt it to the ground, and slew Murray himself; a young nobleman of the most promising virtues, and the very darling of the people. See Robertson's History.

The present Lord Murray hath now in his possession a picture of his ancestor naked and covered with wounds, which had been carried about, according to the custom of that age, in order to inflame the populace to revenge his death. If this picture did not flatter, he well deserved the name of the "Bonny Earl," for he is there represented as a tall and comely personage. It is a tradition in the family, that Gordon of Bucky gave him a wound in the face: Murray half expiring, said, "you hae spilt a better face than your awin." Upon this, Bucky, pointing his dagger at Huntley's breast, swore, You shall be as deep as I;" and forced him to pierce the poor defenceless body.

King James, who took no care to punish the murderers, is said by some to have privately countenanced and abetted them, being stimulated by jealousy for some indiscreet praises which his queen had too 'avishly bestowed on this unfortunate youth. See

It has been suggested to the Editor, that this ballad covertly alludes to the indiscreet partiality, which Queen Anne of Denmark is said to have shewn for the " Bonny Earl of Murray;" and which is supposed to have influenced the fate of that unhappy nobleman. Let the reader judge for himself.

The following account of the murder is given by a contemporary writer, and a person of credit, Sir James Balfour, knight, Lyon King of Arms, whose MS. of the Annals of Scotland is in the Advocate's library at Edinburgh.

"The seventh of Febry, this zeire, 1592, the Earle of Murray was cruelly murthered by the Earle of Huntley at his house in Dunibrissel in Fyffe-shyre, and with him Dunbar, sheriffe of Murray. It was

given out and publickly talkt, that the Earle of Huntley was only the instrument of perpetrating this facte, to satisfie the King's jealousie of Murray, quhum the Queene, more rashly than wisely, some few days before had commendit in the King's hearing, with too many epithets of a proper and gallant man. The reasons of these surmises proceedit from a proclamatione of the Kings, the 13 of Marche following: inhibiteine the zoung Earle of Murray to persue the Earle of Huntley, for his father's slaughter, in respect he being wardeit [imprisoned] in the castell of Blacknesse for the same murther, was willing to

Castle downe here has been thought to mean the Castie of Downe, a seat belonging to the family of Murray.

abide a tryall, averring that he had done nothing but by the King's majesties commissione; and was neither airt nor part in the murther*."

The following ballad is here given from a copy printed not long since at Glasgow, in one sheet 8vo. The world was indebted for its publication to the Lady Jean Hume, sister to the Earl of Hume, who died at Gibraltar.

ABOUT Zule, quhen the wind blew cule,

And the round tables began,

A'! there is cum to our kings court

Mony a well-favourd man.

The queen luikt owre the castle wa,

Beheld baith dale and down,

5

They hae taen zoung Waters, and

And then she saw zoung Waters Cum riding to the town.

Aft I have ridden thro' Stirling town In the wind both and the weit; Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town Wi fetters at my feet.

In the year 1584, the Spaniards, under the command of Alexander Farnese prince of Parma, began o gain great advantages in Flanders and Brabant, by ecovering many strong holds and cities from the Hollanders, as Ghent, (called then by the English Gaunt,) Antwerp, Mechlin, &c. See Stow's Annals, p. 711. Some attempt made with the assistance of English volunteers to retrieve the former of those

aces probably gave occasion to this ballad. I can find no mention of our heroine in history, but the ollowing rhymes rendered her famous among our ⚫oets. Ben Jonson often mentions her, and calls

any remarkable virago by her name. See his Epicane, first acted in 1609, Act 4, sc. 2. His Tale of Tub, Act 1, sc. 4. And his masque intitled the Fortunate Isles, 1626, where he quotes the very words of the ballad,

-MARY AMBREE,

(Who marched so free

This extract is copied from the Critical Review.

To the siege of Gaunt,
And death could not daunt,
As the ballad doth vaunt)
Were a braver wight, &c.

She is also mentioned in Fletcher's Scornful Lady, Act 5, sub finem.

66 66 My large gentlewoman, my " Mary Ambree," had I but seen into you, you should have had another bedfellow."

It is likewise evident that she is the virago intended by Butler in Hudibras (P. 1. c. 3, v. 365.), by her being coupled with John d'Arc, the celebrated Pucelle de Orleans.

A bold virago stout and tall

As Joan of France, or English Mall.

This ballad is printed from a black-letter copy in the Pepys Collection, improved from the Editor's

• Heiding-hill; i. e. heading [beheading] hill. The place of execution was anciently an artificial hillock.

Shee ledd upp her souldiers in battaile array, Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;

Seven howers in skirmish continued shee:

Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? 40

She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott,
And her enemyes bodyes with bullets so hott;
For one of her owne men a score killed shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent, 4.5
Away all her pellets and powder had sent, [three:
Straight with her keen weapon shee slasht him in
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee·
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

50

65

Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold,
Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?
A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,
Who shortleye with us a prisoner must bee.

No, captaine of England; behold in your sight
Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight: 78
Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see.
But a poor simple lass called Mary Ambree.

But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare,
Whose valor hath proved so undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee, 75
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree.

The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne
Who long had advanced for England's faire crowne;
Hee wooed her, and sued her his mistress to bee
And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree.

But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of England, sir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree.

80

Then to her owne country shee backe did returne, 85
Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne ·
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

XX.

Feregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby had, in the year 1586, distinguished himself at the siege of Zutphen, in the Low Countries. He was the year after, made general of the English forces in the United Provinces, in room of the Earl of Leicester, who was recalled. This gave him an opportunity of signalizing his courage and military skill in several actions against the Spaniards. One of these, greatly exaggerated by popular report, is probably the subject of this old ballad, which, on account of its flattering encomiums on English valour, hath always been a favourite with the people.

"My Lord Willoughbie (says a contemporary writer) was one of the queenes best swordsmen : ....he was a great master of the art military....I have heard it spoken, that had he not slighted the court, but applied himselfe to the queene, he might have enjoyed a plentifull portion of her grace; and it was his saying, and it did him no good, that he was none of the Reptilia; intimating, that he could not creepe on the ground, and that the court was not his element; for, indeed, as he was a great souldier, so he was of suitable magnanimitie, and could not brooke the obsequiousnesse and assiduitie of the court."(Naunton.)

Lord Willoughbie died in 1601.-Both Neris and Turner were famous among the military men of that age.

The subject of this ballad (which is printed from an old black-letter copy, with some conjectural emendations,) may possibly receive illustration from what Chapman says in the dedication to his version of Homer's Frogs and Mice, concerning the brave and memorable retreat of Sir John Norris, with only 1000 men, through the whole Spanish army, under the Duke of Parma, for three miles together.

THE fifteenth day of July,

With glistering spear and shield,

A famous fight in Flanders
Was foughten in the field:
The most couragious officers

Were English captains three;
But the bravest man in battel

Was brave Lord Willoughbèy.

15

Which ecchoed through the sky, God, and St. George for England!

The conquerers did cry.

20

20

Of this same victory.

K