large booty, they regained the town, which they entered with great joy and triumph, and delivered up the earl of Moray to the governor, the lord John Neville*. When the army was awakened and armed, they ran like madmen towards the town, even to the barriers, where they made a fierce assault, which lasted a considerable time. It availed them, however, nothing, but the loss of their people; for the town was well provided with men at arms, who defended themselves valiantly and prudently, which obliged the assailants to retire with loss. CHAPTER LXXV.-KING DAVID OF SCOTLAND TAKES AND DESTROYS THE CITY OF DURHAM. WHEN king David and his council saw that their stay before Newcastle was dangerous, and that they could neither gain profit nor honour, they departed, and entered the bishoprick of Durham, burning and destroying as they marched. They came before the city of Durham, which they laid siege to, and made many attacks upon it, like men distracted in revenge for the loss of the earl of Moray; and they also knew that very great wealth was carried into it by all the inhabitants of the country who had fled thither. They, therefore, were every day more earnest in their attacks; and the king of Scotland ordered some engines to be made, that they might approach to assault them nearer the walls. When the Scots had marched from before Newcastle, the governor, lord John Neville, mounted a fleet courser, passed by them, for he was as well acquainted with all the by-roads and passes as a nativet, and made such haste, that in five days he came to Chertsey, where the king of England then was, and related to him all that the Scots were doing. The king sent out immediately his messengers, ordering all knights, squires, and others, that were able to assist him, above the age of fifteen and under sixty years, without fail, upon hearing these orders, to set out directly towards the marches of the north, to succour and defend the kingdom against the Scots, who were destroying it. Upon this earls, barons, knights, and the commonalties from the provincial towns, made themselves ready, and hastened most cheerfully to obey the summons, and advance towards Berwick. The king himself set off directly, such was his impatience, without waiting for any one; and he was followed by his subjects, as fast as they could, from all parts. During this time, the king of Scotland made so many violent attacks with the engines he had constructed upon the city of Durham, that those who were within could not prevent it from being taken, pillaged, and burnt. All were put to death without mercy, and without distinction of persons or ranks, men, women, children, monks, canons, and priests; no one was spared, neither was there house or church left standing. It was pity thus to destroy, in Christendom, the churches wherein God was served and honoured.+ He was afterwards exchanged for the earl of Salisbury, made prisoner by the French in the neighbourhood of Lisle. The French would not release Salisbury, unless he made oath, never to bear arms in France; and Edward III. consented to this extraordinary condition, 20th May, 1542.-Annals of Scotland, vol. 2, p. 210. Lord Berners describes this attack in these spirited words:" And in the morning a certayne nombre of gentylmen that were in the towne yssued out to the number of cc speres, to make a skry in the scottysshe host: they dashed into the Scottyshe host, right on therle of Morets tentes, who bare in his armour syluer three creylles goules; ther they toke hym in his bed, and slewe many, or thoost was moued, and wan great pyllage. Than they returned into the towne boldely with great ioye, and delyuered therle Moret as prisoner to the captayne of the castell, the lord John Neuell."-ED. "Car il savoit bien les adresses et les réfuges du pays, comme celui qui en estoit," are the words used by Froissart, and they should probably be rendered" for he had a native's knowledge of the bye-roads and passes." Sir John Nevill here spoken of was the eldest son and heir of Ralph lord de Nevill, and father of the first earl of Westmoreland, and the estates of the family lay in the north.-ED. Lord Berners translates this passage rather more correctly, as Froissart did not mean to say that the burning of churches in a pagan country would not be equally a pity as in Christendom. "The city was won by force, and robbed and clene brent: and all maner of people put to deth without mercy, men, women, and chyldren, monkes, preestes and chanons; so that ther abode alyue no maner of person, house nor church, but it was destroyed; the whiche was great pytte so to dystroy christenblode, and the churches of God wherein that God was honoured and serued." This passage is remarkable as an illustration of the superstitious feelings of these chivalric times. We have before had many accounts of burnings and massacres, nay even of the violation of nuns, but all were passed by as mere matters of course. "I am now reading Mr. Johnes's Froissart,' says Mrs. Barbauld in one of her elegant letters," and I think I never was more struck with the horrors of war,simply because he seems not at all struck with them."-It is only when the churches are included in the destruction that the compassion of the canon is excited.-ED. CHAPTER LXXVI. THE KING OF SCOTLAND BESIEGES WARK CASTLE, BELONGING WHEN the king of Scotland had done this, he was advised to fall back upon the river Tyne, and retreat towards Scotland. As he was on the march, he halted one night hard by a castle belonging to the earl of Salisbury, which was well furnished with men at arms. The captain of it was sir William Montacute, son to the sister of the earl, and so called after an uncle who had that name. When the night was passed, king David decamped, to pursue his march to Scotland; and the Scots passed through roads close to this castle, heavily laden, with the booty which they had made at Durham. As soon as sir William saw that they had passed the castle without halting, he sallied out of it well armed on horseback, with about forty companions, and followed in silence the last division, which consisted of horses so loaded with money and riches that they could scarcely get on, and came up with them at the entrance of a small wood; when he and his companions fell upon them, killed and wounded upwards of two hundred, and took one hundred and twenty horses very richly laden, which they drove towards the castle. The cries and the runaways soon reached the lord William Douglas, who commanded the rear-guard, and had already passed the wood. Whoever at that time had seen the Scots return full gallop, over mountain and valley, with sir William Douglas at their head, would have been alarmed. They made such haste that they soon came to the castle, and ascended the hill on which it is situated with great expedition; but as they came to the barriers, those within had closed them, and placed what they had seized in safety. The Scots commenced a violent assault, and the garrison defended themselves well the two Williams did all they could devise to hurt each other. This lasted until the whole army, and even the king himself, arrived there. When the king and his council saw their people lying dead, and the assailants sore wounded, without gaining any thing, he ordered them to desist, and to seek out for quarters; for he was determined not to leave the place before he had seen his men revenged. Upon this every one was employed in searching out where he could lodge himself, to collect the dead, and to dress the wounded. The king, As Wark Castle is situated on the Tweed, it must be the Tweed, instead of Tyne. I have, in consequence altered Scotland for Carlisle, as it is in the origiral other wise, it would be incorrect as to the geography of the country. on the morrow, ordered all to be ready for the attack of the castle: those within prepared themselves to defend it. This assault was very fierce and perilous, and many gallant deeds were performed. The countess of Salisbury, who was esteemed one of the most beautiful and virtuous women in England, was in this castle, which belonged to the earl of Salisbury, who had been taken prisoner, with the earl of Suffolk, near Lisle, and was still in prison at the Châtelet in Paris. The king had given him this castle, upon his marriage, for his many deeds of valour, and for the services he had received from the said earl, who was formerly called sir William Montacute, as appears in another part of this book. This countess comforted much those within the castle; and from the sweetness of her looks, and the charm of being encouraged by such a beautiful lady, one man in time of need ought to be worth two. This attack lasted a considerable time, and the Scots lost a great many men; for they advanced boldly up to it, and brought large trees and beams to fill up the ditches, that they might bring their machines, if possible, nearer, to play upon the castle: but the garrison made so good a defence, that they were forced to retreat; and the king ordered the machines to be watched, to renew the attack the next day. Each retired to their quarters, except those who guarded the machines: some bewailed the dead, others comforted the wounded. Those of the castle saw that they had too hard a task, for they were much fatigued; and, if king David were steady to his purpose, they should have difficulty to defend it. They therefore thought it advisable to send some one to king Edward, who was arrived at Berwick*, which they knew for truth, from some of the Scots prisoners they had taken, and were looking out for a proper person for this business: for not one would agree to quit the defence of the castle, or of the beautiful lady, in order to carry this message, and there was much strife among them: which, when their captain, sir William Montacute, saw, he said, "I am very well pleased, gentlemen, with your loyalty and heartiness, as well as for your affection to the lady of this house; so that, out of my love for her and for you, I will risk my person in this adventure. I have great confidence and trust in you, and that you will defend the castle until I shall return. On the other hand, I have the greatest hopes in our lord the king, and that I shall bring back with me, speedily, such succour, to your great joy, that you will all be rewarded for the gallant defence you shall have made." This speech cheered both the countess and all present. When night came, sir William prepared himself the best way he could, to get out of the castle privately, and unseen by any of the Scots. Fortunately for him, it rained so very hard all that night, that none of them quitted their quarters: he therefore passed through the army without being noticed. Shortly after, and about day-break, he met, on his road, two Scotsmen, half a league from their army, driving thither two oxen and a cow: sir William, knowing them to be Scotsmen, wounded them both very severely, killed the cattle that they might not carry them to the army, and said to them, "Go and tell your king, that William Montacute has passed through his army, and is gone to seek for succour from the king of England, who is now at Berwick." When the Scots lords heard this, they said to one another, "The king often makes his men be wounded and killed without any reason;" and, believing that the king of England would come to give them battle before they should gain the castle, they went in a body to the king, and told him, that his longer stay there would neither bring him honour nor profit; that their expedition had turned out exceedingly well, and that they had done much mischief to the English by remaining in their country twelve days, and burning and destroying the city of Durham; that, every thing considered, it was now proper for them to return to their own kingdom and homes, and carry off safe the booty they had made; and that, at another season, they would follow him to England, according to his will and pleaThe king did not choose to act contrary to the opinions of his chieftains, but con* This seems incorrect, as in that case the English army continued to make fierce attacks, and seeing that the would have intercepted the Scots on their return. Lord king caused his people to be wounded and sacrificed (marBerners reads York, and Sauvage's edition Warwick. tyrer) without reason, and that the king of England might -ED. well come and give them battle before the castle should be taken, they said to king David with one accord, that his longer stay," &c.-ED. sure. Froissart's words, according to D. Sauvage's edition, with which Lord Berners nearly agrees, are as follow:“They talked one to another whilst king David still sented to their advice, sore against his will. On the morrow, he and his whole army decamped and marched straight to the forest of Jedworth, where the wild Scots lived at their ease; for he was desirous of knowing what the king of England meant to do, whether he would return to his own kingdom, or advance further northward*. CHAP. LXXVII.-THE KING OF ENGLAND IS ENAMOURED WITH THE COUNTESS OF SALISBURY. THAT same day that the Scots had decamped from before the castle of Wark, king Edward, and his whole army, arrived there about mid-day, and took up their position on the ground which the Scots had occupied. When he found that they were returned home, he was much enraged; for he had come there with so much speed, that both his men and horses were sadly fatigued. He ordered his men to take up their quarters where they were, as he wished to go to the castle to see the noble dame within, whom he had never seen since her marriage. Every one made up his lodgings as he pleased; and the king, as soon as he was disarmed, taking ten or twelve knights with him, went to the castle, to salute the countess of Salisbury, and to examine what damage the attacks of the Scots had done, and the manner in which those within had defended themselves. The moment the countess heard+ of the king's approach, she ordered all the gates to be thrown open, and went to meet him, All this seems to be fabulous, and to have been invented by some person who meant to impose on the inquisitive credulity of Froissart. It cannot be reconciled with known historical dates, with the characters and conditions of the persons therein mentioned, or with the general tenor of authenticated events. Had David violated the patrimony of St. Cuthbert in the savage manner related by Froissart, the English histories would have teemed with declamations on an enormity, more heinous, in the opinion of those days, than any crime prohibited by the decalogue. Besides, the sacking of Durham related by Froissart, was an event too singular and momentous to be altogether omitted; and yet the English historians make no mention of it: neither does Fordun, whose simple narration I have chosen to follow.-Annals of Scotland, vol. ii. p. 211. We hop our readers will pardon our again transcribing a passage from the terse old English of Lord Berners, but we could not refrain from giving this beautiful romance, for it is no more, in his very poetical diction, which does full justice to, if indeed it do not surpass, his author. "As sone as the lady knewe of the kynge's comyng, she set opyn the gates and came out so richly besene, that euery man marueyled of her beauty, and coude nat cease to regard her nobleness, with her great beauty and the gracyous wordes and countenaunce that she made. When she came to the kyng she knelyd downe to the yerth, thank yng hym of his socours, and so ledde hym into the castell to make hym chere and honour as she that coude ryght well do it. Euery man regarded her maruelussly; the kyng hymselfe coude nat witholde his regardyng of her, for he thought that he neuer sawe before so noble nor so fayre a lady; he was stryken therwith to the hert with a spercle of fyne loue that endured long after; he thought no lady in the worlde so worthy to be beloude as she. Thus they entred into the castell hande in hande; the lady ledde hym first into the hall, and after into the chambre nobly aparelled. The kyng regarded so the lady that she was abasshed; at last he went to a wyndo to rest hym, and so fell into a great study. The lady went about to make chere to the lordes and knyghtes that were ther, and comaunded to dresse the hall for dyner. Whan she had al deuysed and comaunded tham she came to the kynge with a mery chere, (who was in a great study) and she said Dere sir, why do you study so, for, your grace nat dyspleased, it aparteyneth nat to you so to do; rather ye shulde make good chere and be joyfull seyng ye haue chased away your enmies who durst nat abyde you; let other men study for the remynant. Than the kyng sayd, A dere lady, knowe for trouthe that syth I entred into the castell ther is a study come to my mynde so that I can nat chuse but to muse, nor I can nat tell what shall fall therof; put it out of my herte I can nat. A sir, quoth the lady, ye ought alwayes to make good chere to comfort therwith your peple. God hath ayded you so in your besynes and hath gyuen you so great graces, that ye be the moste douted and honoured prince in all christendome, and if the kynge of Scottes haue done you any dyspyte or damage ye may well amende it whan it shall please you, as ye haue done dyuerse tymes or this. Sir, leaue your musing and come into the hall if it please you; your dyner is all redy. A fayre lady, quoth the kyng, other thynges lyeth at my hert that ye knowe nat of, but surely your swete behauyng, the perfect wysedom, the good grace, noblenes and excellent beauty that I see in you, hath so sore surprised my hert that I can nat but loue you, and without your loue I am but deed. Than the lady sayde, A ryght noble prince for Goddes sake mocke nor tempt me nat; I can nat beleue that it is true that ye say, nor that so noble a prince as ye be wolde thynke to dyshonour me and my lorde my husbande, who is so valyant a knyght and hath done your grace so gode seruyce and as yet lyethe in prison for your quarell. Certely sir ye shulde in this case haue but a small prayse and nothing the better therby. I had neuer as yet such a thoght in my hert, nor I trust in God, neuer shall haue for no man lyueng; if I had any suche intencyon your grace ought nat all onely to blame me, but also to punysshe my body, ye and by true iustice to be dismembred. Therwith the lady departed fro the kyng and went into the hall to hast the dyner; than she returned agayne to the kyng and broght some of his knyghtes with her, and sayd, Sir, yf it please you to come into the hall your knyghtes abideth for you to wasshe; ye haue ben to long fastyng. Than the kyng went into the hall and wassht and sat down among his lordes and the lady also. The kyng ete but lytell, he sat styll musing, and as he durst he cast his eyen upon the lady. Of his sadnesse his knyghtes had maruell for he was nat acustomed so to be; some thought it was because the Scotts were scaped fro hym. All that day the kyng taryed ther and wyst nat what to do. Sometime he ymagined that honour aud trouth defended hym to set his hert in such a case to dys most richly dressed; insomuch, that no one could look at her but with wonder, and admiration at her noble deportment, great beauty, and affability of behaviour. When she came near the king, she made her reverence to the ground, and gave him her thanks for coming to her assistance, and then conducted him into the castle, to entertain and honour him, as she was very capable of doing. Every one was delighted with her: the king could not take his eyes off her, as he thought he had never before seen so beautiful or sprightly a lady; so that a spark of fine love struck upon his heart, which lasted a long time, for he did not believe that the whole world produced any other lady so worthy of being beloved. Thus they entered the castle, hand in hand: the lady led him first into the hall, then to his chamber, which was richly furnished, as belonging to so fine a lady. The king kept his eyes so continually upon her, that the gentle dame was quite abashed. After he had sufficiently examined his apartment, he retired to a window, and leaning on it, fell into a profound reverie. The countess went to entertain the other knights and squires, ordered dinner to be made ready, the tables to be set, and the hall ornamented and dressed out. When she had given all the orders to her servants she thought necessary, she returned, with a cheerful countenance, to the king, who continued musing, and said to him, "Dear sir, what are you musing on? So much meditating is not proper for you, saving your grace: you ought rather to be in high spirits, for having driven your enemies before you, without their having had the courage to wait for you, and should leave the trouble of thinking to others." The king replied, "Oh, dear lady, you must know, that since I have entered this castle, an idea has struck my mind that I was not aware of; so that it behoves me to reflect upon it. I am uncertain what may be the event, for I cannot withdraw my whole attention from it." "Dear sir," replied the lady, "you ought to be of good cheer, and feast with your friends, to give them more pleasure, and leave off thinking and meditating; for God has been very bountiful to you in all your undertakings, and showed you so much favour, that you are the most feared and renowned prince in Christendom. If the king of Scotland have vexed you by doing harm to your kingdom, you can, at your pleasure, make yourself amends at his expense, as you have done before: therefore come, if you please, into the hall to your knights, for dinner will soon be ready." "Oh, dear lady," said the king, "other things touch my heart, and lie there, than what you think of; for, in truth, the elegant carriage, the perfections and beauties which I have seen you possess, have very much surprised me, and have so deeply impressed my heart, that my happiness depends on meeting a return from you to my flame, which no denial can ever extinguish." "Sweet sir,” replied the countess, "do not amuse yourself in laughing at, or tempting me; for I cannot believe you mean what you have just said, or that so noble and gallant a prince as you are would ever think to dishonour me or my husband, who is so valiant a knight, who has served you faithfully, and who, on your account, now lies in prison. Certainly, sir, this would not add to your glory; nor would you be the better for it. Such a thought has never once entered my mind, and I trust in God it never will, for any man living: and, if I were so culpable, it is you who ought to blame me, and have my body punished, through strict justice." The virtuous lady then quitted the king, who was quite astonished, and went to the hall to hasten the dinner. She afterwards returned to the king, attended by the knights, and said to him, "Sir, come to the hall; your knights are waiting for you, to wash their hands, for they, as well as yourself, have too long fasted." The king left his room, and came to the hall; where, after he had washed his hands, he seated himself, with his knights, at the dinner, as did the lady also; but the king ate very little, and was the whole time pensive, casting his eyes, whenever he had an opportunity, towards the countess. Such behaviour surprised honour such a lady and so true a knight as her husband was who had alwayes well and truely serued hym. On thother part loue so constrayned hym that the power therof surmounted honour and trouth. Thus the kyng debated in hymself all that day and all that night. In the mornyng he arose and dyssloged all his hoost and drewe after the Scottes to chase them out of his realme. Than he toke leaue of the lady sayeng, My dere lady to God I comende you tyll I returne agayne, requiryng you to aduyse you otherwyse than ye haue sayd to me. Noble prince, quoth the lady, God the father glorious be your conduct, and put you out of all vylayne thoughts. Sir I am and euer shal be redy to do your grace seruyce to your honour and to my ne. Therwith the kyng departed all abasshed."-ED. |