University of Virginia Library

CHAP. IV. The Siege of YORK.

Wallace his Army does in Four divide,
And then the Town invests, on ev'ry Side.
Himself, with Lauder, that good cliver Hand,
At the South Port, do take the chief Command.
The Earl Malcolm, Noble, Stout, and Great,
VVith valiant Boyd, commanded the VVest Gate.
Campbel the Knight, and Sir John Ramsay brave
At the North Gate their Post, assign'd them have.
To the East Gate Wallace he does direct,
Sir John the Graham, Crawford, and Auchinleck.
One Thousand Archers of the Scottish Side,
At the Four Gates caus'd equally Divide
Full Seventeen Thousand Suthron, then appear,
Upon the Walls with all their Bow, and Spear.
Who furiously doe sally out, but got,
A warm Reception, from each worthy Scot.
In spite of all their Arrows and big Stones,
Were driven back, with sore and Bloody Bones.
Who, when they got within the Town at last,
Faggots of Fire out o'er the Walls do cast.
And great Prodigious red hot Gads of Iron,
Which from old Nick their Master they did Learn.
Hot burning Pitch, and scalding stinking Tar,
And other curs'd Contrivances of War:
Nevertheless, the Scots that were without,
So valiant were, so hardy, and so stout.
They fiercely burnt the Bulwark of the Town,
Their Barmkin wan, and cast great Turrets down.
The wearied Host with great Fatigue opprest,
And Night approaching, think of taking rest,
Most carefully, first, they wash ev'ry Wound,
Their Watches set, and then sleep safe and sound.
Next Day, their Cloaths were scarce well on their Back
When all cry'd out, for a new fresh attack.
Drew up again, as they had done before,
And then the Town assaulted wondrous sore.
The Scottish Archers all, so leilly shot,
Numbers they kill'd, in Truth they miss'd them not.
Then burning Fire set to ev'ry Gate,
So mortally they did the Suthron hate,
Yet notwithstanding, the fierce English Men,
Themselves, and Town, did gallantly defend.
When that whole Day was spent, and come the Night,
To his Pavilion went each weary Wight.
The English then with Vigilance and Care,
For a fresh Sally do themselves prepare.
Sir William Mortoun, and Sir William Lies,
Most cunningly they draw up by Degrees.
And make a fearful, furious Sally then,
On Earl Malcom, with Five Thousand Men.
Wallace himself, as he rode the Grand-round,
Seeing them coming, caus'd a Trumpet Sound.
The Harnish'd Scots that keeped Guard that Night,
Took the Alarm, then mounted all on Sight.
Then briskly charg'd the cruel Suthron Foe,
With Sword in Hand, and many a Bloody Blow.
Wallace, who knew the Earl was too hot.
That he would fight tho' dye upon the spot.
Up to him rides, as quickly as he may,
With a good Sword, that paved well his Way,
The first he struck, fell dead upon the Place,
The Second's Nose, he levell'd with his Face.
The hardy Earl, did no Suth'ron spare,
But hew'd them down, and left them crawlling there.
By this the Host, were all in good Array,
And Suthron thought 'twas Time to march away.
Wallace knew well, they could not stand it long,
Wherefore he thrust into the thickest throng.
And cliverly, so laboured their Buff,
Their Armour did not signify a Snuff.
The Scotsmen there behav'd extreamly well,
As the poor Suthron sensibly did feel.
Then all the English left the Field and fled,
And Sir John Mortoun he was killed Dead.
Twelve Hundred more, upon the Field are slain,
The rest fled back unto the Town again.
And then good Wallace with his valiant Host.
Return'd, each Man unto his proper Post.
And took them Rest, wherewith so fresh they grew,
They on the Morn assault the the Town of new.
Against the City all their Force do bend,
And fight, as if they had been more then Men.
But now their Victualls to be scarce begin,
Tho' little knew the Englishmen within.
Who that same Day, a Parley caus'd be beat,
At which good Wallace did appear in State.
Attended by some of his chiefest Friends,
And boldly asketh, what the Parley means.
To whom, the Major in Name of all did say,
We'll pay a Ransom, if you'll march away.
We would give Battle, or do any Thing,
Would purchase Peace; but dare not for our King.
Then with a Countenance austere, and bold,
VVallace reply'd we value not your Gold.
Your King he promis'd, we should Battle have,
VVhich Faithfully under his Seal he gave.
The Major did then reply most Courteously,
He is the King, and we but Subjects be.
Therefore we pray, as you would us oblige,
To take our Gold and do remove the Siege.
Then with his Council he consulted long,
VVho thought the Town, for Siege was too too strong.
And Victualls scarce, therefore it safer found,
To take some Gold, then march for Scottish Ground
VVallace reply'd, I'm not all content,
Unless the Town give us their whole Consent:
To let our Banner blow upon their VVall,
And there to flourish, in the sight of all.
This Answer soon was sent unto the Major,
VVho did consent, with all the rest were there.
The Banner set, to Scotland's great Renown,
Upon the VValls from Eight, to Twelve at Noon.
Then was Five Thousand Pound of English Gold,
Pay'd down in Specie, to that Army bold,
Good Bread, and VVine, they gladly to them gave,
And all Provisions that they pleas'd to have.
Twenty long Days, at York remained they,
Then gloriously in Triumph march away.
Unto the Country back again they'r gone,
Burn'd, and broke down fine Buildings, spared none.
All Myldlame they burn'd up into a Fire,
Broke down the Parks, destroyed all the Shire.
Wild Deer they slew, for other Beasts were none,
And fed like Princes on good Vennison.
Toward the South, they turned at the last,
Made Buildings bare, as far as e're they past.
The Commons now, for London all design,
Where they most freely, tell the King their Mind.
Unless from Wars, he would cause Wallace cease.
They'd take Protection, and accept his Peace.
No Herauld then, durst unto Wallace go,
The King, to him his Faith had broken so.
And Edward, that was once, so bold, and pert,
His Army now, does cowardly desert.
So long in England, there was never one.
Since Brutu's Death except Wallace alone
That march'd from England, without stroke of Sword;
Fy on the King, that broke his royal Word.
Great Julius for all his Strength and Force,
Was chas'd from England twice, and got the worse,
With Arthur als, first when the Wars he priv'd,
Twice did they fight, altho' they were mischiev'd.
But awful Edward, durst not Wallace bide,
In a plain Battle, for all England wide.
In London lay, at his own Ease and Rest,
And brake his Vows, which of them think you best.
Wallace's Host, for Scotland, long to go,
So scarce the Victuals, every Day did grow.
Immediatly good Wallace calls for Jop,
In him, was all his Confidence and Hope;
Next unto GOD; because he knew the Land,
And still was ready to obey Command.
Who said, if you'll advised be by me,
The Plentiest part of England you shall see.
Good Wine, and Wheat, you'll get in Richmond Shire,
And each Thing else unto your Heart's Desire.
Thither they went, their Time did not purloyn;
Nine Thousand Scots, did there with Wallace joyn.
All swinging, able, lusty, well look'd Men,
He, and his Host had great rejoicing then.
Into that Shire, Plenty had of Food.
Both tame, and wild, and ev'ry Thing was good.
Throughout that Land they march'd, in good array,
A handsome Place then found upon the Way;
Ramswatch to Name, then Jop, to Wallace told
Fechew was Lord and Captain of that Hold.
Five Hundred there, quickly assembled then,
To save their Lives and Goods from Wallace Men
A noble House, stood by the Forrest Side,
VVith stately Turrets, in great Pomp, and Pride.
VVell built about for Strength, ingeniously,
VVith Five great Towers that mounted very high
Numbers of Men, upon the VValls are seen,
Bravading in their Armour, clear and clean,
The Host march'd by, not one VVord said at all,
But they within, aloud on VVallace call.
Their Trumpets blew, with many a warlike Sound,
Then Wallace said, had we yon Gallants down.
On a plain Ground; they should get Sport their fill,
Such as his Brother got on Tinto Hill.
Sir John the Graham would at the Bicker be,
But Wallace soon the Danger did forsee.
Commanded him, to let alone his Haste,
We have no Men so foolishly to waste.
But yet to gratifie your fond Desire,
Our first Attack, shall be with burning Fire.
I see their Bulwark of old with'red Oak,
Were that one Fire it would not bide a Stroke.
Houses, and Woods, in plenty here there be,
Who hews best of this Forrest let me see.
Pull Houses down, let each Man take his turn,
Old Timber, will make green Wood bravely burn.
At his Command most busily they wrought,
Great store of Wood unto the Place they brought.
The Bulwark won, then closly at the last,
Unto the Barmkin, heaps of Timber cast.
The Bow-Men fiercely shot, on ev'ry Side,
But Suthron worsted were for all their Pride.
Women and Children, on their Knees do fall,
And loud for Mercy, do on Wallace call.
So pitiful he was, tho' bold, and stout,
He heard their Crys, and let them safely out.
Then Fire, and smoak, in fearfull Clouds arose,
And burning Flames, all round their Castle goes.
Barrels of Pitch, which stood long there before,
VVent all in Flame, the Mischief was the more.
Both Man, and Beast, are are all burn'd up with Fire,
Thus Wallace Host have got their Hearts Desire.
Fechew himself, smother'd with Smoak, and Smell,
Lap from a Hight, and on the Barmkin fell;
VVith a good Sword, Wallace struck off his Head,
Five Hundred more were choak'd, and burned dead.
On the next Day, the Fire being spent,
Wallace's Men, unto the Castle went.
Struck down the Gate, and took what they could find,
Jewels, and Gold, great Riches to their Mind,
Spoiled the Place, and nothing else left there,
But Beasts, burnt Bodys, and great Buildings bare.
Then Wallace, to the Widow of Fechew
Said; promise here, as you'r a Woman true,
Wo turse your Husband's Head, to London Town,
And tell King Edward, if he do not soon
Give Battle, I doe swear by all the Fates,
This Moneth once, to be at London Gates.
For if he keep not's faithful VVord to me,
All the South-west of England I shall see.
To London Town then without more she went,
VVhere Edward lay, displeas'd, and ill content.
His Nephew's Head, did him with Anguish fill,
And more and more, increas'd his Sorrows still.
With great unease, upon his Feet he stood
Weeping, and wailing, for his tender Blood.
Then rose the Council, praying him to cease,
We England lose, unless we purchase Peace.
Woodstock, for Peace was clear, then in the End,
The King consents and bids a Message send;
No Man the Message there would undertake,
Because the King so oft his Faith did break.
The Queen, when she saw all refuse the Thing,
Down on her Knees she fell before the King.
Soveraign she said, if it your Pleasure be,
I pray, permit me Wallace once to see.
Perhaps he may do more for Women far,
Than for your Men that mind him still of War.
If with him I prevail not very soon,
I may return with little Dammage done.
The Lords were glad the Queen was minded so,
And humbly beg'd the King, to let her go.
To which the (King altho' much discontent,)
And backward to it, did at last consent.
Some said the Queen did Wallace much admire,
Who daily so much Honour did acquire,
And in her Heart by far, did him prefer
To most of Men, for his brave Character.
And that she lov'd him; but till once they meet
I'll pass no Judgement, 'tween themselves Two be't:
Mean Time she's march'd, (to leave our Drolls and Jests,)
With Fifty Ladies and Seven ancient Priests.
Now Edward, for Fechew does sigh, and mourn,
But unto Wallace, I must now return.
The worthy Scots, among the Suthron ride,
And great Destruction make, on ev'ry Side.
The Host was glad, and blest their happy Fate,
No Force there was, that durst with them debate.
Riches, and Gold, they got their very fill,
And ev'ry Thing they pleas'd at their own Will.
South they are march'd, and to St. Albans gone,
In all that Country, Damage did they none.
The Prior sent them Vennison and Wine,
Refresh't the Host, and made them bravely Dine.
The Night appeared shortly in the Place,
Then pitch'd their Tents from thence a little Space.
Into a Valley, by a River fair,
Where Hart, and Hynd, on either Side repair,
Their Watches set, all in good Order keep,
To Supper went and in due Time did sleep.