Erle Percy there his ancyent spred,

The Halfe-Moone shining all soe faire:*
The Nortons ancyent had the crosse,

And the five wounds our Lord did beare.

Then Sir George Bowes he straitwaye rose,
After them some spoyle to make:
Those noble erles turn'd backe againe,

And aye they vowed that knight to take.

That baron he to his castle fled,

To Barnard castle then fled hee.

105

110

*Ver. 106. The Halfe-Moone, &c.] The Silver Crescent is a a well-known Crest or Badge of the Northumberland family. It was probably brought home from some of the Cruzades against the Sarazens. In an ancient Pedigree in verse, finely illuminated on a Roll of Vellum, and written in the reign of Henry VII, (in possession of the family,) we have this fabulous account given of its original.—The author begins with accounting for the name of Gernon or Algernon, often borne by the Percies; who, he says, were

.... Gernons fyrst named Brutys bloude of Troy : Which valliantly fyghtynge in the land of Perse [Persia.] At pointe terrible aynce the miscreants on nyght,

An hevynly mystery was schewyd hym, old bookys reherse; In hys scheld did schyne a MoNe veryfying her lyght, Which to all the ooste yave a perfytte fyght,

To vaynquys his enemys, and to deth them persue;

And therefore the Persès [Percies] the Cressant doth renew.

In the dark ages no Family was deemed considerable that did not derive its descent from the Trojan Brutus; or that was not distinguished by prodigies and miracles.

The uttermost walles were eathe to win,
The earles have wonne them presentlie.

The uttermost walles were lime and bricke;
But thoughe they won them soon anone,
Long e'er they wan the innermost walles,
For they were cut in rocke of stone.

Then newes unto leeve London came
In all the speede that ever might bee,
And word is brought to our royall queene
Of the rysing in the North countrie.

Her grace she turned her round about,
And like a royall queene shee swore,*
I will ordayne them such a breakfast,
As never was in the North before.

115

120

125

Shee caus'd thirty thousand men berays'd,
With horse and harneis faire to see;
She caused thirty thousand men be raised,
To take the earles i' th' North countrie.

130

Wi' them the false Erle Warwick went,

Th' Erle Sussex and the Lord Hunsdèn;
Untill they to Yorke castle came

I wiss, they never stint ne blan."

135

This is quite in character: her majesty would sometimes

swear at her nobles, as well as box their ears.

Now spred thy ancyent, Westmorland,
Thy dun bull faine would we spye :
And thou, the Erle o' Northumberland,
Now rayse thy half moone up on hye.

But the dun bulle is fled and gone,

And the halfe moone vanished away:
The Erles, though they were brave and bold,
Against soe many could not stay.

140

Thee, Norton, wi' thine eight good sonnes, 145
They doom'd to dye, alas! for ruth!
Thy reverend lockes thee could not save,
Nor them their faire and blooming youthe.

Wi' them full many a gallant wight
They cruellye bereav'd of life:
And many a childe made fatherlesse,
And widowed many a tender wife.

150

IV.

NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED
BY DOUGLAS.

This ballad may be considered as the sequel of the preceding. After the unfortunate Earl of Northumberland had seen himself forsaken of his followers, he

endeavoured to withdraw into Scotland, but falling into the hands of the thievish borderers, was stript and otherwise ill-treated by them. At length he reached the house of Hector, of Harlaw, an Armstrong, with whom he hoped to lie concealed: for Hector had engaged his honour to be true to him, and was under great obligations to this unhappy nobleman. But this faithless wretch betrayed his guest for a sum of money to Murray the Regent of Scotland, who sent him to the castle of Loughleven, then belonging to William Douglas. All the writers of that time assure us, that Hector, who was rich before, fell shortly after into poverty, and became so infamous, that to take Hector's cloak, grew into a proverb to express a man who betrays his friend. See Camden, Carleton, Holingshed, &c.

Lord Northumberland continued in the castle of Loughleven till the year 1572; when James Douglas Earl of Morton being elected Regent, he was given up to the Lord Hunsden at Berwick, and being carried to York suffered death. As Morton's party depended on Elizabeth for protection, an elegant Historian thinks "it was scarce possible for them to refuse putting into her hands a person who had taken up arms against her. But as a sum of money was paid on that acconnt, and shared between Morton and his kinsman Douglas, the former of whom, during his exile in England, had been much indebted to Northumberland's friendship, the abandoning this unhappy nobleman to inevitable destruction, was deemed an ungrateful and mercenary act." Robertson's Hist.

So far History coincides with this ballad, which was apparently written by some Northern Bard soon after the event. The interposal of the witch-lady, (v. 53.) is probably his own invention: yet, even this hath some countenance from his history: for, about 25 years before, the Lady Jane Douglas, Lady Gla

VOL. I.

53

mis, sister of the Earl of Angus, and nearly related to Douglas of Lough leven, had suffered death for the pretended crime of witch-craft; who, it is presumed, is the Witch-lady alluded to in verse 133.

The following is selected (like the former) from two copies, which contained great variations; one of them in the Editor's folio MS. In the other copy some of the stanzas at the beginning of this Ballad are nearly the same with what in that MS. are made to begin another Ballad on the escape of the E. of Westmoreland, who got safe into Flanders, and is feigned in the ballad to have undergone a great variety of ad

ventures.

How long shall fortune faile me nowe,

And harrowe me with fear and dread ?
How long shall I in bale abide,

In misery my life to lead?

To fall from my bliss, alas the while!
It was my sore and heavye lott:
And I must leave my native land,
And I must live a man forgot.

One gentle Armstrong I doe ken,

A Scot he is much bound to mee:
He dwelleth on the border side,

To him I'll goe right privilie.

Thus did the noble Percy 'plaine,
With a heavy heart and wel away,

When he with all his gallant men

On Bramham moor had lost the day.