The Story of a Ballad — “Kinmont Willie”
The ballad of “Kinmont Willie”, as to the genuineness of which we are not among those who entertain doubts that reflect on the good faith of Sir Walter Scott, is not only one of the most spirited to be found in all the Border minstrelsy, it is also noteworthy as being in the number of the comparatively few popular poems that have a real historical event as their foundation. And a further interest attaches to it from the circumstance that the incident which it sets forth was of sufficient importance to give rise to a diplomatic correspondence between the Ministers of James VI and those of Elizabeth, and, indeed, to be the subject of an indignant letter from the Queen herself. The actual facts of the capture and rescue of William Armstrong, commonly known as Kinmont Willie, are in the main such as they are related in the ballad.
In 1596, on one of those customary “days of truce” agreed upon by the officials on both sides of the Border for the purpose of discussing and, if it were possible, of settling in a friendly manner any quarrels that might have arisen between the turbulent inhabitants of the respective marches, Thomas Salkeld, the “fause Sakelde” of the ballad, as deputy for the English Warden, Lord Scroope, had met Robert Scott of Haning, the representative of Sir Walter Scott, “the Bauld Buccleuch”, Keeper of Liddisdale. The conference had taken place at a spot where the Kershope, a small tributary of the Liddel, formed the boundary line between the two countries. Nothing untoward had happened. The two officials had parted on friendly terms, and the Scots Borderers, of whom Robert Scott’s escort consisted, had set out for their respective homes. One of these happened to be William Armstrong of Kinmont. He was well known to the Englishmen as a “bauld reiver”, against whom they had many a complaint of long standing.
It was well understood that the “days of truce” lasted until sunrise on the morning after the breaking up of the meeting, so that all who had been present at it might have ample time to perform the return journey homewards without being exposed to molestation. Trusting to this, Armstrong, whose way lay in the same direction as that of the English Borderers, rode on unconcernedly on his own side of the Liddel and in full sight of them. Their sense of honour was not proof against the temptation of availing themselves of so favourable an opportunity. Making it an excuse for their violation of Border law that at one point Armstrong was obliged to pass out of the territory included in Buccleuch jurisdiction, they crossed the stream, thus committing an act of invasion, fell upon him at such odds as made resistance vain, took him prisoner and carried him off to Carlisle, where he was lodged in the Castle. The indignation aroused by this unwarrantable breach of faith was all the greater from the fact that Willie was popular amongst his kinsmen and neighbours for the daring and resourcefulness which had often ensured the success of the raids on which they had sallied out together. Buccleuch protested against the violation of the truce and demanded Kinmont’s liberation; but his remonstrances produced no result. Neither was the Scottish Government itself more successful with Scroope when the general outcry obliged it to interfere.
Buccleuch then resolved to take the law into his own hands. As a first step towards the execution of the bold plan which he had conceived, he got his signet ring conveyed to the prisoner. This he contrived to do through the agency of one of the Grames, who, though English Borderers themselves, appear, from Scroope’s repeated complaints against them, to have been in league with the Scottish Warden. A horse race promoted by him afforded him an opportunity of communicating with Kinmont’s kinsmen and friends without exciting suspicion. He had no difficulty in enlisting recruits, mainly from amongst the Scotts, the Elliots, the Bells, and, as a matter of course, the Armstrongs, including Willie’s sons. Before Kinmont, whose capture had been effected on March 17, had been a month in Carlisle Castle, where, after promising that he would make no attempt at escape, he appears to have been treated with some consideration, everything was ready for a dash into England.
On the evening of April 13, a troop of horsemen numbering five hundred, according to Scroope’s estimate of them, crossed the Border in a storm of wind and rain. They were led by Buccleuch, who, before passing into English territory, left one detachment under the Laird of Johnston, and another with the Goodman of Bonshawe, to lie in ambush close to the frontier line in order to check pursuit if, as might well happen, the raiders should return with the English at their heels. Those that rode on towards Carlisle were provided with gavelocks, crowbars, pickaxes, axes, and scaling ladders. They reached the Castle at dead of night, and, making for the postern, set about undermining it. The guards had either fallen asleep or got under cover to protect themselves from the violence of the weather; moreover, the howling of the storm covered the noise unavoidably made by the sappers, quietly as they tried to work, and nothing happened to give either Scroope or Salkeld, both of whom were within the walls, the least warning of what was going on. In a short time the Scots had penetrated into the courtyard. Buccleuch was the fifth to pass through the trench. When he had the rescuing party about him he encouraged them to “Stand to it”, as he had vowed to God and his Prince to fetch Kinmont out of England dead or alive; and assured them that, when it was done, he would maintain his action “with fire and sword against all resisters”. With this he led them to the room where Will Armstrong was confined. Here one of Scroope’s servants, who had been stationed as a guard, had to be overpowered, and sustained some slight injuries. The door was broken open and Armstrong was carried off. As the rescuers were retiring they encountered two men of the outer watch. These were promptly prevented from giving the alarm, but escaped with their lives, Buccleuch having given strict orders that no unnecessary violence should be used and no wanton damage done, lest their enterprise should appear to have had other objects in view than the rescue for which it was solely planned. Then the whole party galloped back to Scotland with their prize.
Even in those days news of so startling an occurrence spread fast. Within a few weeks the daring exploit had aroused the keenest excitement in both North and South Britain. In Scotland Buccleuch’s action “was greatly commended by the great people”. In England there was a feeling of intense indignation at the “outrageous fact”. Robert Bowes, the Ambassador at the Court of King James, gave expression to it at a Convention of the Estates. He had been commissioned to “aggravate the heinousness” of the aggression, and did so in a long oration, “concluding that peace could no longer continue betwixt the two realms unless Buccleuch was delivered into England, to be punished at the Queen’s pleasure”.272 The Keeper of Liddisdale was present, and spoke in his own defence. He maintained that, in rescuing a Scottish subject who had been wrongfully captured, he had done nothing but what honour dictated and duty required. He declared, however, that he was willing to submit the case to Commissioners appointed by the English Queen on the one hand, and by the Scottish King on the other, and to abide by their decision. This suggestion met with the approval of the Estates, who accordingly proposed that, “conform to the ancient treaties of peace, and custom observed between the two realms, Scottish and English Commissioners should meet on the Borders to decide upon the said complaint”.
The Estates had come to this decision on the 25th of May. A few days later, on the 4th of June, James himself wrote to Elizabeth in regard to the “late attempt of Buccleuch”. He begged her to bear in mind that all the information she had so far received proceeded from her own officer who, as a direct party in the matter, might reasonably be suspected of partiality. And he urged this as a reason for her consenting to the appointment of a Commission, in accordance with the proposal made by Buccleuch and adopted by the Convention. Before the end of the same month, both the Privy Council of England and Queen Elizabeth had dispatched replies to Edinburgh. The former, after communicating her Majesty’s dissatisfaction at what had taken place and at the turn which matters were taking, confined itself to the expression of a hope that the King, in his own princely judgment, would reverse the Act of his Council, and not show favour to a person so notoriously reported to be factious, seditious, and a favourer of the King’s rebels.
The Queen’s letter was far more uncompromising in its tone. It contained an emphatic refusal to entertain any thought of a Commission, and it prefaced this vigorously-worded decision with a rebuke such as might have been administered to a naughty child. She told James that she looked upon him as a rare example of a king seduced by evil information. Was it ever seen that a prince, from his cradle preserved from slaughter, upheld in Royal dignity, preserved from many treasons, maintained in all sorts of kindness, should remunerate with so hard measure such dear deservings, and hesitate to yield a just reply to a friend’s lawful demand? Ought there to be any question as to whether a King should act rightfully by his equal, and should his Councillors be asked their pleasure as to what he might do? Had this occurred in the nonage of the Prince, it might have some colour; but in a “fatherage” it seemed strange, and, she dared say, was without example. However little regard her “dear Brother” might have for herself, yet she would grieve much to see him neglectful of his own dignity, as the English, whose good opinion she doubted not but he had in some esteem, would measure his love by his deeds, and not by his words on paper. In so far as she was concerned, she told him plainly that she considered herself as ill treated by her professed friend as she could be by her declared foe. Was any castle of hers to be assailed by a night-prowler and her ally not send the offender to his due punisher? Should a friend stick at a demand that he ought rather to anticipate? For other doubtful and litigious Border cases she was willing to appoint Commissioners, if she found it needful, but never in a matter of such villainous usage as this.273 Nor was this the worst. James was further informed, and that not in a private letter, but through Bowes, that Elizabeth had resolved to stop his yearly gratuity if he did not satisfy her in the redress demanded against Buccleuch.
The correspondence of the time shows that of all who were variously affected by Buccleuch’s raid, it was James who, all along, found himself in the most difficult and delicate position. Whilst willing to conciliate Elizabeth, he hesitated to condemn an action of which his subjects were proud as of a triumph over England. He now began to understand that he would have to yield to the imperious Queen. But he was still anxious to delay the inevitable surrender, knowing that amongst the people generally the feeling of opposition to the delivery of Buccleuch was as keen as ever. As a means of gaining time, he raised a new issue, by writing a strong letter of indignation at the Queen of England’s threat to stay the payment of his annuity, and at her treatment of him as if he were her pensioner, whereas the money that he received was in return for concessions he had made. This, he thought, was a greater breach of the alliance between them than his not giving up Buccleuch; and to prove that he, for his part, had always been faithful to it, he recapitulated the various acts by which he had always shown his attachment to England.
This led to a prolongation of the correspondence and negotiations between the two countries; and matters dragged on in this way till the month of August, when Bowes was at length able to inform Lord Burghley that Buccleuch had been commanded to ward by the King, and that the place of his detention was St. Andrews. Recognizing this as a step in the right direction, Elizabeth wrote to James to express her satisfaction at his having done what beseemed him. At the same time she gave him to understand that she would not consider herself fairly dealt with until Buccleuch was delivered up to herself. This was again followed by a long exchange of communications, of which the tone, however, marked a gradual approach towards a settlement of the dispute. Before that was reached, James found an opportunity of retaliating in a characteristically petty manner. As Elizabeth insisted that Buccleuch should be delivered over to her for punishment because of his attack on Carlisle Castle, so he demanded that Edmund Spenser should be called to account for his reflections on the character of Mary Stuart. What we know about this new and singular development is contained in a dispatch from Bowes to Burghley. “The King,” writes the English agent in Edinburgh, “has conceived great offence against Edmund Spenser, for publishing in print, in the second part of the Faerie Queen, chapter IX, some dishonourable effects, as the King deemeth, against himself and his mother deceased. I have satisfied the King about the privilege under which the book is published, yet he still desireth that Edmund Spenser, for this fault, may be duly tried and punished.” It does not appear from anything to be found in the State Papers that this frivolous matter received serious attention on the part of Elizabeth, or was further insisted upon by James himself.274
As for the Border incident, after all these negotiations, enquiries, and recriminations, it was brought to a close by Buccleuch’s surrendering himself into English custody at Berwick. His captivity lasted from October 6th, 1597, till March 21st following. On his release his ten-year-old child took his place as a hostage. It is noteworthy that the redoubtable Borderer not only ceased to give trouble, but even co-operated with the English Wardens in maintaining peace in the marches. There is said to be a tradition in the Buccleuch family that he was presented to Elizabeth, who admired him for his daring, in spite of the annoyance which it had caused her.