 | A Ballad of Cumberland, 1319 |  |
iii
A Ballad of Cumberland, 1319.
King Edward sat in York's fair town,
His face for wrath was grey,
“I gave De Harcla trust and guard
Of all my Northern Marches' ward:
And do ye say
He doth betray
His fealty to my crown?”
His face for wrath was grey,
“I gave De Harcla trust and guard
Of all my Northern Marches' ward:
And do ye say
He doth betray
His fealty to my crown?”
iv
Oh cruel are the tongues that call
Dishonour into sight,
But crueller the hearts whose greed
Will dare defame an honest deed,
And out of spite,
Accuse the right,
And turn true love to gall.
Dishonour into sight,
But crueller the hearts whose greed
Will dare defame an honest deed,
And out of spite,
Accuse the right,
And turn true love to gall.
What boots it that De Harcla's dread
Kept Lions from the gate,
That all the Bruce's might and wile
Could work no woe against Carlisle,
The stone of hate
For proud estate
Hath fallen upon his head.
Kept Lions from the gate,
That all the Bruce's might and wile
Could work no woe against Carlisle,
The stone of hate
For proud estate
Hath fallen upon his head.
v
What boots it for eleven days
He mocked the Scottish ring,
With arrow flight from wall and towers,
With springald shot, and quarrel-showers,
With stone and sling,
For crown and king
He wrought his deed of praise.
He mocked the Scottish ring,
With arrow flight from wall and towers,
With springald shot, and quarrel-showers,
With stone and sling,
For crown and king
He wrought his deed of praise.
Lord Lucy at the King's command
To Carlisle town hath hied,
Hath gotten him daring comrades three,
Hugh Lowther, Hugh of Moriceby,
And at their side,
To be for guide,
Denton of Cumberland.
To Carlisle town hath hied,
Hath gotten him daring comrades three,
Hugh Lowther, Hugh of Moriceby,
And at their side,
To be for guide,
Denton of Cumberland.
vi
These gallant Lords each cloked his arm
And through the gates in gloom
Paffed on, spake fair the seneschal—
Low firelight flickered in the Hall—
Thence to the room
Of Harcla's doom
Sped swift without alarm.
And through the gates in gloom
Paffed on, spake fair the seneschal—
Low firelight flickered in the Hall—
Thence to the room
Of Harcla's doom
Sped swift without alarm.
De Harcla at his table sate
A-writing to his friend—
“Dear friend do right and dare the worst”
In at those words, the gallants burst,—
“Draw and defend!”
They cried, “or bend,
False knave to King and State!”
A-writing to his friend—
“Dear friend do right and dare the worst”
In at those words, the gallants burst,—
“Draw and defend!”
They cried, “or bend,
False knave to King and State!”
vii
Then up he rose that haughty Earl
And faced the gallants three,
“My hands are white, my heart is pure,
And for my King I dare endure
Pay honour's fee
At Harribee
With life's most precious pearl.”
And faced the gallants three,
“My hands are white, my heart is pure,
And for my King I dare endure
Pay honour's fee
At Harribee
With life's most precious pearl.”
No last farewell for squire and dame,
No kiss from sire and lord,
To close the gates a varlet sprang,
A shout thro' all the castle rang,
Sir Richard's sword
It quenched that word,
Four entered, five outcame.
No kiss from sire and lord,
To close the gates a varlet sprang,
A shout thro' all the castle rang,
Sir Richard's sword
It quenched that word,
Four entered, five outcame.
viii
To boot and saddle, saddle and horse,
Dark streets be good for flight!
Beyond the city walls they ride
With armèd men on either side,
All through the night
Till morning light
For York they sped their course.
Dark streets be good for flight!
Beyond the city walls they ride
With armèd men on either side,
All through the night
Till morning light
For York they sped their course.
The judge he sat in robes of red,
The Earl De Harcla stood
As silent as a man of stone,
While those accusers one by one
Athirst for blood,
“By the Holy Rood”
Heaped hate upon his head.
The Earl De Harcla stood
As silent as a man of stone,
While those accusers one by one
Athirst for blood,
“By the Holy Rood”
Heaped hate upon his head.
ix
But when of
“Battail-Holme” they spake
And that fair willowy mead
Wherein he walked and wooed his dame,
Whereon he brought the Bruce to shame,
I saw indeed
The bright tear speed,
His body seemed to quake.
And that fair willowy mead
Wherein he walked and wooed his dame,
Whereon he brought the Bruce to shame,
I saw indeed
The bright tear speed,
His body seemed to quake.
They hewed the spurs from off his heel,
They tore his plumes apart,
Above his head they brake his sword—
No knightlier e'er was grasped by lord,
He felt no smart
Of flesh, his heart
What could it do but feel.
They tore his plumes apart,
Above his head they brake his sword—
No knightlier e'er was grasped by lord,
He felt no smart
Of flesh, his heart
What could it do but feel.
x
His tabard off they plucked amain,
His hood, his coat of arms,
Despitefully they did unslip
The girdle from De Harcla's hip—
The belt whose charms
In war's alarms
Was never girthed in vain.
His hood, his coat of arms,
Despitefully they did unslip
The girdle from De Harcla's hip—
The belt whose charms
In war's alarms
Was never girthed in vain.
Lord Lucy quoth, “So treat we sire
All traitors to the King,
Whose will is that the people see
Their great Earl hanged at Harribee,
And whiles you swing
Shall fierce hands fling
Your heart into a fire.
All traitors to the King,
Whose will is that the people see
Their great Earl hanged at Harribee,
And whiles you swing
Shall fierce hands fling
Your heart into a fire.
xi
“Your head on London Bridge shall stare,
Your limbs once true and brave
Shall quartered be, and up and down
Go, carrion cast from town to town,
—No English grave
Can hold a knave—
The crows shall pick them bare.”
Your limbs once true and brave
Shall quartered be, and up and down
Go, carrion cast from town to town,
—No English grave
Can hold a knave—
The crows shall pick them bare.”
Then spake the Earl, “I have no sears,
No grace I seek to find,
For well I know who dares the right
Is never ‘dead-man out-of-sight,’
But in the mind
Of all his kind
His life lives on for years.
No grace I seek to find,
For well I know who dares the right
Is never ‘dead-man out-of-sight,’
But in the mind
Of all his kind
His life lives on for years.
xii
“Take spur and helm, take robe and hood,
Break sword above my head,
My knightlihood no hands can take,
My sword of spirit none can break,
When I am dead
It shall be read
The Earl was true and good.
Break sword above my head,
My knightlihood no hands can take,
My sword of spirit none can break,
When I am dead
It shall be read
The Earl was true and good.
“And if mine head on spike be thrust
In sight of London Town,
It shall not blench for shame to say,
‘This mortal went a mortal's way
True to his own,
His king and crown,
Hate smote him to the dust.’”
In sight of London Town,
It shall not blench for shame to say,
‘This mortal went a mortal's way
True to his own,
His king and crown,
Hate smote him to the dust.’”
xiii
To Harribee the Earl they bore,
Oh bitter was the cry,
But when they tore his true heart out
To Heaven the people sent a shout,
“Though false men lie,
And brave men die,
God send us traitors more!”
Oh bitter was the cry,
But when they tore his true heart out
To Heaven the people sent a shout,
“Though false men lie,
And brave men die,
God send us traitors more!”
| A Ballad of Cumberland, 1319 | |