Sir Andrew Barton
Part the First
When Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedecked the earth so trim and gay,
And Neptune with his dainty showers
Came to present the month of May,
King Henry rode to take the air,
Over the river Thames past he;
When eighty merchànts of London came,
And down they knelt upon their knee.
O ye are welcome, rich merchants;
Good sailors, welcome unto me.
They swore by the rood, they were sailors good,
But rich merchànts they could not be:
To France nor Flanders dare we pass,
Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;113
And all for a rover that lies on the seas,
Who robs us of our merchant ware.
King Henry frowned, and turned him round,
And swore by the Lord, that was mickle of might,
I thought he had not been in the world,
Durst have wrought England such unright.
The merchants sighed, and said, alas!
And thus they did their answer frame,
He is a proud Scot, that robs on the seas,
And Sir Andrew Barton is his name.
The king looked over his left shouldèr,
And an angry look then looked he:
Have I never a lord in all my realm,
Will fetch yon traitor unto me?
Yea, that dare I, lord Howard says;
Yea, that dare I with heart and hand;
If it please your grace to give me leave,
Myself will be the only man.
Thou art but young, the king replied;
Yon Scot hath numbered many a year.
Trust me, my liege, I’ll make him quail,
Or before my prince I will never appear.
Then bowmen and gunners thou shalt have,
And choose them over my realm so free;
Besides good mariners, and ship-boys,
To guide the great ship on the sea.
The first man that lord Howard chose
Was the ablest gunner in all the realm,
Though he was threescore years and ten;
Good Peter Simon was his name.
Peter, says he, I must to the sea,
To bring home a traitor live or dead;
Before all others I have chosen thee,
Of a hundred gunners to be the head.
If you, my lord, have chosen me
Of a hundred gunners to be the head,
Then hang me up on your main-mast tree,
If I miss my mark one shilling bread.114
My lord then chose a bowman rare,
Whose active hands had gained fame;
In Yorkshire was this gentleman born,
And William Horseley was his name.
Horseley, said he, I must with speed
Go seek a traitor on the sea,
And now of a hundred bowmen brave
To be the head I have chosen thee.
If you, quoth he, have chosen me
Of a hundred bowmen to be the head,
On your main-màst I’ll hanged be,
If I miss, twelvescore,115 one penny bread.
With pikes and guns, and bowmen bold,
This noble Howard is gone to the sea;
With a valiant heart and a pleasant cheer,
Out at Thames mouth sailed he.
And days he scant had sailed three
Upon the voyage he took in hand,
But there he met with a noble ship,
And stoutly made it stay and stand.
Thou must tell me, lord Howard said,
Now who thou art and what’s thy name,
And show me where thy dwelling is,
And whither bound, and whence thou came.
My name is Henry Hunt, quoth he
With a heavy heart, and a careful mind;
I and my ship do both belong
To the Newcastle that stands upon Tyne.
Hast thou not heard, now, Henry Hunt,
As thou hast sailed by day and by night,
Of a Scottish rover on the seas;
Men call him sir Andrew Barton, knight?
Then ever he sighed, and said alas!
With a grieved mind, and well away!
But over-well I know that wight,
I was his prisoner yesterday.
As I was sailing upon the sea,
A Bordeaux voyage for to fare;
To his hatchboard116 he clasped me,
And robbed me of all my merchant ware:
And mickle debts, God wot, I owe,
And every man will have his own,
And I am now to London bound,
Of our gracious king to beg a boon.
Thou shalt not need, lord Howard says;
Let me but once that robber see,
For every penny ta’en thee fro’
It shall be doubled shillings three.
Now God forefend, the merchant said,
That you should seek so far amiss!
God keep you out of that traitor’s hands!
Full little ye wot what a man he is.
He is brass within, and steel without,
With beams on his topcastle strong;
And eighteen pieces of ordinance
He carries on each side along:
And he hath a pinnace dearly dight,117
St. Andrew’s cross that is his guide;
His pinnace beareth ninescore men,
And fifteen cannons on each side.
Were ye twenty ships, and he but one,
I swear by kirk, and bower, and hall,
He would overcome them every one,
If once his beams they do down fall.
This is cold comfort, says my lord,
To welcome a stranger thus to the sea:
Yet I’ll bring him and his ship to shore,
Or to Scotland he shall carry me.
Then a noble gunner you must have,
And he must aim well with his ee,
And sink his pinnace into the sea,
Or else he ne’er o’ercome will be:
And if you chance his ship to board,
This counsel I must give withal,
Let no man to his topcastle go
To strive to let his beams down fall.
And seven pieces of ordinance,
I pray your honour lend to me,
On each side of my ship along,
And I will lead you on the sea.
A glass I’ll set, that may be seen,
Whether you sail by day or night;
And to-morrow, I swear, by nine of the clock
You shall meet with Sir Andrew Barton, knight.
Part the Second
The merchant set my lord a glass
So well apparent in his sight,
And on the morrow, by nine of the clock,
He showed him Sir Andrew Barton, knight.
His hatchboard it was gilt with gold,
So dearly dight it dazzled the ee:
Now by my faith, lord Howard says,
This is a gallant sight to see.
Take in your ancients,118 standards eke,
So close that no man may them see;
And put me forth a white willow wand,
As merchants use to sail the sea.
But they stirred neither top, nor mast;119
Stoutly they passed Sir Andrew by.
What English churls are yonder, he said,
That can so little courtesy?
Now by the rood, three years and more,
I have been admiral over the sea;
And never an English nor Portingall120
Without my leave can pass this way.
Then called he forth his stout pinnàce;
Fetch back yon pedlars now to me:
I swear by the mass, yon English churls
Shall all hang at my main-mast tree.
With that the pinnace it shot off,
Full well lord Howard might it ken;
For it stroke down my lord’s fore mast,
And killed fourteen of his men.
Come hither, Simon, says my lord,
Look that thy word be true, thou said;
For at my main-mast thou shalt hang,
If thou miss thy mark one shilling bread.
Simon was old, but his heart it was bold,
His ordinance he laid right low;
He put in chain full nine yards long,
With other great shot less, and moe;
And he let go his great gun’s shot:
So well he settled it with his ee,
The first sight that Sir Andrew saw,
He saw his pinnace sunk in the sea.
And when he saw his pinnace sunk,
Lord, how his heart with rage did swell!
Now cut my ropes, it is time to be gone;
I’ll fetch yon pedlars back mysel’.
When my lord saw Sir Andrew loose,
Within his heart he was full fain:
Now spread your ancients, strike up drums,
Sound all your trumpets out amain.
Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew says,
Well howsoever this gear will sway;121
It is my lord admiral of Englànd,
Is come to seek me on the sea.
Simon had a son, who shot right well,
That did Sir Andrew mickle scare;
In at his deck he gave a shot,
Killed threescore of his men of war.
Then Henry Hunt with rigour hot
Came bravely on the other side,
Soon he drove down his fore-mast tree,
And killed fourscore men beside.
Now, out alas! Sir Andrew cried,
What may a man now think, or say?
Yonder merchant thief, that pierceth me,
He was my prisoner yesterday.
Come hither to me, thou Gordon good,
That aye wast ready at my call;
I will give thee three hundred marks,
If thou wilt let my beams down fall.
Lord Howard he then call’d in haste,
Horseley see thou be true instead;
For thou shalt at the main-mast hang,
If thou miss, twelvescore, one penny bread.
Then Gordon swarved122 the main-mast tree,
He swarved it with might and main;
But Horseley with a bearing arrow,
Stroke the Gordon through the brain;
And he fell into the hatches again,
And sore his deadly wound did bleed:
Then word went through Sir Andrew’s men,
How that the Gordon he was dead.
Come hither to me, James Hambilton,
Thou art my only sister’s son,
If thou wilt let my beams down fall,
Six hundred nobles thou hast won.
With that he swarved the main-mast tree,
He swarved it with nimble art;
But Horseley with a broad arròw
Pierced the Hambilton through the heart:
And down he fell upon the deck,
That with his blood did stream amain:
Then every Scot cried, Well-away!
Alas, a comely youth is slain!
All woe begone was Sir Andrew then,
With grief and rage his heart did swell:
Go fetch me forth my armour of proof,
For I will to the topcastle mysel’.
Go fetch me forth my armour of proof;
That gilded is with gold so clear:
God be with my brother John of Barton!
Against the Portingalls he it ware:
And when he had on this armour of proof,
He was a gallant sight to see:
Ah! ne’er didst thou meet with living wight,
My dear brothèr, could cope with thee.
Come hither Horseley, says my lord,
And look your shaft that it go right,
Shoot a good shot in time of need,
And for it thou shalt be made a knight.
I’ll shoot my best, quoth Horseley then,
Your honour shall see, with might and main;
But if I was hanged at your main-mast,
I have now left but arrows twain.
Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree,
With right good will he swarved then:
Upon his breast did Horseley hit,
But the arrow bounded back again.
Then Horseley spied a privy place
With a perfect eye in a secret part;
Under the spole123 of his right arm
He smote Sir Andrew to the heart.
Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew says,
A little I’m hurt, but yet not slain;
I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile,
And then I’ll rise and fight again.
Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew says,
And never flinch before the foe;
And stand fast by St. Andrew’s cross
Until you hear my whistle blow.
They never heard his whistle blow,——
Which made their hearts wax sore adread:
Then Horseley said, Aboard, my lord,
For well I wot, Sir Andrew’s dead.
They boarded then his noble ship,
They boarded it with might and main;
Eighteen score Scots alive they found,
The rest were either maimed or slain.
Lord Howard took a sword in hand,
And off he smote Sir Andrew’s head,
I must have left England many a day,
If thou wert alive as thou art dead.
He caused his body to be cast
Over the hatchboard into the sea,
And about his middle three hundred crowns:
Wherever thou land this will bury thee.
Thus from the wars lord Howard came,
And back he sailèd o’er the main,
With mickle joy and triumphìng
Into Thames mouth he came again.
Lord Howard then a letter wrote,
And sealèd it with seal and ring;
Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace,
As never did subject to a king:
Sir Andrew’s ship I bring with me;
A braver ship was never none:
Now hath your grace two ships of war,
Before in England was but one.
King Henry’s grace with royal cheer
Welcomed the noble Howard home,
And where, said he, is this rover stout,
That I myself may give the doom?
The rover, he is safe, my liege,
Full many a fathom in the sea;
If he were alive as he is dead,
I must have left England many a day:
And your grace may thank four men i’ the ship
For the victory which we have won,
These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt,
And Peter Simon, and his son.
To Henry Hunt, the king then said,
In lieu of what was from thee ta’en,
A noble a-day now thou shalt have,
Sir Andrew’s jewels and his chain.
And Horseley thou shalt be a knight,
And lands and livings shalt have store;
Howard shall be earl of Surrey hight,
As Howards erst have been before.
Now, Peter Simon, thou art old,
I will maintain thee and thy son:
And the men shall have five hundred marks
For the good service they have done.
Then in came the queen with ladies fair
To see Sir Andrew Barton knight:
They ween’d that he were brought on shore,
And thought to have seen a gallant sight.
But when they saw his deadly face,
And eyes so hollow in his head,
I would give, quoth the king, a thousand marks,
This man were alive as he is dead:
Yet for the manful part he played,
Which fought so well with heart and hand,
His men shall have twelvepence a day,
Till they come to my brother king’s high land.
Footnotes
113 Travel.
114 Breadth.
115 Twelvescore paces off.
116 Part of the side of the ship.
117 Fitted out.
118 Flags.
119 i.e. Did not salute.
120 Portuguese.
121 However this affair will end.
122 Climbed.
123 The arm-pit.