Book XV

Qwhen thai within has seyn swa slane
Thair men, and chassit hame agane,
Thai war all wa, and in gret hy
“Till armys!” hely can thai cry.
Than armyt thame all at thar war,
And for the battale maid thame yhar.
Thai yschit out, all weill arayit,
In battale with baneris displayit;
Bowne on thar best wis till assale
Thair fayis in-to fell battale.
And quhen Schir Philip the Mowbray
Saw thame ysche in sa gud aray,
Till Schir Edward the Brus went he
And said, “Schir, it is gude that we
“Schape for sum slicht that may availl
“Till help us in this gret battaill.
“Our men ar quheyn, bot thai haf will
“Till do mair than thai may fullfill.
“Tharfor I rede, our caryage,
“Forouten ony man or page,
“By thame-selvyne arayit be;
“And thai sall seyme fer ma than we.
“Set we before thame our baneris;
“Yhon folk that cummys out of Coigneris,
“Quhen thai our baneris thair may se,
“Sall trow trastly that thair ar we,
“And thidder in gret hy sall ryde.
“Cum we than on thame at a syde,
“And we sall be at avantage;
“For, fra thai in our caryage
“Be enterit, thai sall cummyrrit be;
“And than with all our mycht may we
“Lay on, and do all that we may.”
All as he ordanit done haf thai.
And thai that com out of Coigneris
Adressit thame to the baneris;
And smat with spures the hors in hy,
Ruschand emang thame sodanly.
The barell-ferraris that war thar
Cumrayd thame fast that rydand war.

And than the Erll, with his battale,
Com on, and sadly can assale.
And Schir Edward, a litill by,
Assemblit swa richt hardely,
That mony fey fell under feit;
The felde wox soyne of blud all weit.
With so gret felony thar thai faucht,
And sic rowtis till othir raucht,
With stok, with stane, and with retrete,
As athir part can othir bet,
That it wes hidwys for to se
How thai mantemyt that gret melle
So knychtlik apon athir syde,
Giffand and takand woundis wyde,
That pryme wes passit, or men mycht se
Quha mast at thair abovin mycht be.
Bot soyne eftir that pryme wes past,
The Scottis men dang on so fast,
And schot on thame at abandoune,
As ilk man war a campioun,
That all thar fayis tuk the flicht.
Wes nane of thame that wes so wicht,
That evir durst abyde his fere;
Bot ilkane fled thair wayis sere.
Till the toune fled the mast party.
And Erll Thomas sa ynkirly,
And his rout, chassit with swerdis bar,
That all emang thame mellit war,
And all to-gidder come in the toune.
Than wes the slauchter so felloune,
That all the rewis ran of blude.
Thame that thai gat to dede all yhude,
Swa that than thar weill neir wes ded
Als feill as in the battell-sted.

The Fizwaryne wes taken thar;
Bot so rad wes Richard of Clar,
That he held to the sowth cuntre.
All that moneth I trow that he
Sall haf no gret will for to ficht.
Schir Johne Steward, ane nobill knycht,
Wes woundit throu the body thair
With a sper that richt scharply schair.
To the Mont-peleris went he syne,
And lay thair lang in-to helyne,
And at the last helit wes he.
Schir Edward than, with his menyhe,
Tuk in the toune thair herbery.
That nycht thai blith war and joly
For the victory that thai had thar.
And on the morn, forouten mar,
Schir Edward gert men gang and se
All the vitalis of that cite.
And thai fand sic fusioune thar-in
Of corn and flour and wax and wyne,
That thai had of it gret ferly;
And Schir Edward gert halely
To Cragferguss it cartit be.
Syne thidder went his men and he,
And helde the sege full stalwardly,
Quhill Palme Sonday wes passit by.
Than, quhill the Tysday in Pask-owk,
On athir half thai trowis tuk;
Swa that thai mycht that haly tyd
In pennance and in prayer byd.

Bot apon Paske evin all richt
To the castell, in-till the nycht,
Fra Devilling come schippis fyftene,
Chargit with armit men bedeyne;
Four thousand, trow I weill, thai war:
In the castell thai enterit thair.
The Mawndvell, ald Schir Thomas,
Capitane of that menyhe he was.
In the castell all prevaly
Thai enterit, for that thai gert spy
That mony of Schir Edwardis men
War scalit in the cuntre then.
Tharfor thai thoucht in the mornyng
Till ysche, but langer delaying,
And till suppris thame suddanely;
For thai thoucht thai suld traistly ly,
For the trewis that taken war.
Bot I trow falsat evirmar
Sall have unfair and evill ending.
Schir Edward wist of this na thing,
For of tresoune had he na thoucht.
Bot for the trewis he lefit noucht
Wachis till set to the castele;
Ilk nycht he gert men wach it wele.
And Neyll Flemyng wachit that nycht
With sexty men worthy and wicht.
And als soyne as the day wox cleir,
Thai that within the castell weir
Had armyt thame, and maid thame boune,
And syne the bryg avaled doune,
And yschit in-till gret plente.
And quhen Neyll Flemyng can thaim se,
He send ane till the Kyng in hy;
And said to thame that war hym by,
“Now sall men se, I undirtak,
“Quha dar de for his lordis sak!
“Now beir yhow weill, for sekirly
“With all thir menyhe fecht will I.
“In-till bargane thame hald sall we,
“Quhill that our mastir armyt be.”
And with that worde assemblit thai;
Thai war to few all out, perfay,
With sic a gret rout for to ficht.
Fot nocht-for-thi with al thar mycht
Thai dang on thame so hardely,
That all thair fayis had gret ferly,
That thai war all of sic manheid,
That thai no dreid had of thar dede.
Bot thar fell fayis sa can assaill,
That thar mycht no worschip availl
That thai ne war slayn evirilkane
So cleyn, that thar eschapit nane.

And the man that went till the Kyng,
For till warn hym of thair ysching,
Warnit him in-till full gret hy.
Schir Edward wes comonly
Callit the Kyng of Irland,
Quhen that he herd sic hy on hand,
In full gret hast he gat his ger.
Tuelf wicht men in his chalmer wer
That armyt thame in full gret hy.
Syne with his baneris hardely
The myddis of the toune he tais.
With that neir cummand war his fais,
That had delt all thar men in thre.
The Mawndvell, with a gret menyhe,
Richt throu the toune his way held doune;
The layff on athir syde the toune
Held to meit thame that fleand war;
Thai thoucht that all that thai fand thar
Suld de but ransoune evirilkane:
Bot othir wayis the gle is gane.
For Schir Edward, with his baner,
And his men that I tald of ere,
On all that rout so hardely
Assemblit, that it wes ferly.
For Gib Harpar befor him yheid,
That wes the douchtyest of deid
That than wes liffand of his stat,
And with ane ax maid him sic gat
That he the first fellit to the grounde;
And eftir, in a litill stounde,
The Mawndvell be his armyng
He knew, and roucht him sic a swyng
That he till erd yheid hastely.
Schir Edward, that wes neir hym by,
Reversit hym, and with a knyff
Richt in that place him reft the liff.

With that of Ardrossane Fergus,
That wes ane knycht rycht curageous,
Assemblit with sexty and ma.
Thai pressit than thair fayis swa,
That thai, that saw thair lord slayne,
Tynt hert, and wald have beyn agane.
And ay, as Scottis men mycht be
Armyt, thai come to the melle;
And dang apon thai fayis swa,
That thai all hale the bak can ta,
And thai thame chassit to the yhat;
Thar wes hard ficht and gret debat.
Thar slew Schir Edward, with his hand
A knycht, that of all Irland
Wes callit best, and of mast bounte,
To surname Mawndvell hecht he,
His propir nayme I can nocht say.
Bot his folk till so hard assay
War set, that thai of the dungeoune
Durst oppyn no yhat, na bryg let doune.
And Schir Edward, I tak on hand,
Soucht thame that fled thar to warrand,
So felly, that of all, perfay,
That yschit apon hym that day,
Eschapit of thaim nevir ane,
That thai ne war outhir tane or slane.
For to the ficht Maknakill then
Come with twa hundreth of gude sper-men,
And slew all they mycht to wyn.
This ilk Maknakill, with a gyn,
Wan of thair schippes four or fiff,
And halely reft the men thair liff.
Quhen end wes maid of this fechting,
Yheit then wes liffand Neill Fleming.
Schir Edward went him for to se;
About him slayne lay his menyhe
All in a lump, on athyr hand,
And he, redy to dey, throwand.
Schir Edward had of him pite,
And him full gretly menyt he,
And regratit his gret manhede,
And his worschyp with douchty dede.
Sic mayn he maid, thai had ferly;
For he wes nocht custumabilly
Wount for till meyne ony thing,
Na wald nocht heir men mak menyng.
He stude thar by quhill he wes ded,
And syne had him till haly sted,
And him with worschip gert he be
Erdit, with gret solempnite.

On this wis yschit the Mawndvele;
Bot sekirly falsat and gyle
Sall evir have ane evill ending,
As weill wes seyn be this ysching.
In tyme of trewis yschit thai,
And in sic tyme as on Paske day,
Quhen God rais for to sauf mankyne
Fra wem of ald Adammis syne.
Tharfor sic gret myschans thame fell,
That ilkane, as yhe herd me tell,
War slane up, or than takyn thar.
And thai that in the castell war
War set in-till sic fray that hour,
For thai couth se quhar na succour
Suld come to releif thame, that thai
Shortly swa tretit, and on a day
The castell till him yhald thai fre,
Till sauf thame thair liffis; and he
Held thame full well all his cunnand.
The castell tuk he in his hand,
And vittalit it weill, and has set
A gud wardane it for to get;
And a quhile thair than restit he.
Of him no mair now spek will we,
Bot till King Robert will we gang,
That we haf left unspokyn of lang.
Quhen he convoyit had to the se
His brothir Edward, and his menyhe,
With his shippes he maid him yhar
In-till the Ilis for till fare.
Walter Steward with hym tuk he,
His mawch, and with him gret menyhe;
And othir men of gret nobillay.
Till the Tarbard thai held thar way
In galayis ordanit for thair fair.
Bot thame worthit draw thar schippes thar:
And a myle wes betuix the seis,
Bot that wes lownyt all with treis.
The Kyng his schippis thar gert draw,
And for the wynd can stoutly blaw
Apon thair bak, as thai wald ga,
He gert men rapis and mastis ta,
And set thame in the schippis hye,
And salys to the toppis te,
And gert men gang thar-by drawand.
The wynd thame helpit, that wes blawand;
Swa that, in-till a litill spas,
Thar flot all weill our-drawyn was.

And quhen thai that in the Ilis war,
Herd tell how the gud Kyng had thar
Gert schippis with the salys ga
Out-our betuix the Tarbartis twa,
Thai war abasit all utrely.
For thai wist throu ald prophesy
That he that suld ger schippis swa
Betuix the seis with salis ga,
Suld wyn the Ilis swa till hand,
That nane with strynth suld him withstand.
Tharfor thai come all to the Kyng;
Wes nane that withstude his biddyng,
Outaken Johne of Lorne alane.
Bot Weill soyne eftir he wes tane,
And presentit wes to the Kyng.
And thai that war of his leding,
That to the King had brokyn fay,
War all ded, and distroyit away.
The Kyng this Johne of Lorne has tane,
And send soyne him till Dumbertane,
A quhile in presone thair till be,
And to Louchlevin syne send wes he,
Quhar he wes lang tyme in festnyng:
Thair-in, I trow, he maid endyng.
The King, quhen all the Iles war
Brocht till his liking, les and mar,
Still all that sesoune thar duelt he
At huntyng, and gammyne, and gle.

Qwhen the King on this maner
Dantit the Iles, as I tell her,
The gud Schir James of Dowglas
In-till the Forest duelland was,
Defendand worthely the land.
That tyme in Berwik wes wonnand
Edmound de Cailow, a Gascoune,
That wes a knycht of gret renoune;
And in-till Gascone, his cuntre,
Lord of gret senyheroy wes he.
He had than Berwik in keping,
And maid ane preve gaddering,
And gat him a gret cumpany
Of wicht men armit jolely.
And the nethir end of Tevydaill
He prayit doune till him all haill,
And of the Mers ane gret party;
Syne toward Berwik went in hy.
Schir Adam of Gordoune, that than
Wes becummyne a Scottis man,
Saw thame swa drif away thar fe,
And wend thai had beyn quheyn, for he
Saw bot the fleand scaill, perfay,
And thame that sesyt on the pray.
Than till Schir James of Douglas
In-to gret hye the way he tais;
And tald how Inglis men thair pray
Had tane; and syne went thar way
Toward Berwik with all thar fee,
And said they quheyn war; and gif he
Wald speid him, he suld weill lichtly
Wyn thame, and reskew all the ky.
Schir James richt soyne gaf his assent
Till follow thame, and furth is went,
Bot with the men that he had thair,
And met hym by the gat but mair.
Thai followit thame in full gret hy,
And com weill neir thame hastely;
For, or thay mycht thame fully se,
Thai come weill neir with thair menyhe.
And than bath the forreouris and the scaill
In-till a childrome knyt all haill,
And wes a richt fair cumpany.
Befor thame gert thai driff the ky
With knavis and swanys, that na mycht
Had for till stand in feild to ficht.
The laiff behynd thame maid a staill.
The Dowglass saw thair purpos haill,
And saw thame of sa gud covyne,
And at thai war sa mony syne,
That thai for ane of his war twa.
“Lordingis,” he said, “sen it is swa
“That we haff chassit on sic maner,
“That we now cummyn ar so ner
“That we may nocht eschewe the ficht
“Bot gif we fowly tak the flicht,
“Lat ilk man on his luf than meyne,
“And how he mony tyme has beyne
“In grat thrang, and come weill away.
“Think we till do richt swa this day;
“And tak we of this furde heir-by
“Our avantage, for in gret hy
“Thai sall come on us for to ficht.
“Set we than will, and strynth, and mycht
“For till meyt thame richt hardely.”
And, with that word, full hastely,
He hes displayit his baner;
For his fayis war cumand neir,
That, quhen thai saw he wes so quhoyne,
Thai thoucht with thame soyne till haf done,
And assemblit full hardely.
Thar men mycht se men fecht felly,
And richt ane cruell melle mak,
And mony strakis giff and tak.

The Douglass thair weill hard wes stad,
Bot the gret hardyment that he had
Comfort his men apon sic wis,
That no man thoucht on cowardis;
Bot faucht so fast with all thar mayne,
That thai feill of thair fayis has slayne.
And thouch thai wer be fer full ma
Than thai, yheit ure demanyt thaim swa,
That Edmound de Cailow wes ded
Richt in that ilk fechting-sted.
And all the lave, fra he wes done,
War planly thair discumfit sone;
And thai that chassit sum has slayne,
And turnyt the prayis haill agane.
The hardest fechting forsuth this wes
That evir the gud lord of Dowglas
Wes in, as of sa few menyhe.
For, had nocht beyne his gret bounte
That slew thair chiftane in the ficht,
His men till ded had all beyne dicht.
He had in-till custum all-way,
Quhen evir he com till hard assay,
To press hym the chiftane to sla;
And hap him fell that he did swa,
That gert him victor have feill sis.
Quhen Schir Edmound apon this wis
Wes ded, the gud lord of Douglas
Till the Forest his way he tais.
His fayis gretly can hym dreid;
The word weill fer sprang of this deid,
Swa that in Ingland neir thar-by
Men spak of it weill comonly.
Schir Robert de Nevell in that tyde
Wonnyt at Berwyk, neir besyde
The marchis, quhar the lord Dowglas
In the Forest reparande was,
And had at him full gret invy,
For he him saw so manfully
Mak his boundis ay mar and mar.
He herd the folk that with him war
Spek of the lorde Dowglasis mycht,
And how forsy he wes in fycht,
And how hym oft fell fayr fortoune.
He wrethit him thar-at all soyne,
And said, “Quhat weyn yhe, is thar nane
“That evir is worth bot hym alane?
“Yhe set hym as he war but peir:
“But I avow, befor yhow heir,
“Gif evir he cum in-till this land,
“He sall fynd me neir at his hand.
“And giff I evir his baneir
“May see displayit apon wer,
“I sall assembill on hym but dout,
“All thouch yhe hald him nevir sa stout.”

Of this avow soyne bodword was
Brocht till Schir James of Douglas,
That said, “Giff he will hald his hicht,
“I sall do swa he sall haf sicht
“Of me and of my cumpany,
“Yheit or oucht lang, weill neir hym by.”
His reten new than gaderit he,
That war gud men of gret bounte,
And to the marchis in gud aray
Apon ane nycht he tuk the way;
Swa that, in the mornyng airly,
He wes, with all his cumpany,
Before Berwyk; and thair he maid
Men to display his baner braid.
And of his menyhe sum send he
For till burne townys twa or thre,
And bad thame soyn agane thame speid;
Swa that on hand, gif thar com neyd,
Thai mycht be for the ficht redy.
The Nevell that wist verraly.
That Dowglas cummyn wes so neir,
And saw all braid stand his baneir,
Than with the folk that with hym wer,
(And he had a gret menyhe thar;
For all the gud of that cuntre
In-till that tyme with hym had he;
Swa that he with hym thar had then
Weill may then wes the Scottis men)
He held his way up till ane hill,
And said; “Lordyngis, it war my will
“Till mak end of the gret deray
“That Dowglass makis us ilk day.
“Bot me think it speidful that we
“Abyde, quhill his men scalit be
“Throu the cuntre to tak the pray:
“Than fersly schute on hym we may,
“And we sall have thame at our will.”
Thus all thai gaiff consent thar-till,
And on the hill abaid huvande.
The men fast gadderit of the land,
And drew till hym in full gret hy.
The Douglas than, that wes worthy,
Thoucht it wes foly mair till byde.
Toward the hill than can he ryde;
And quhen the Nevell saw at thai
Wald nocht pass furth to the forray,
Bot pressit till thame with thar mycht,
He wist weill than that thai wald ficht,
And till his menyhe can he say;
“Lordingis, now hald we furth our way.
“Heir is the flour of this cuntre,
“And ma than thai alsua ar we.
“Assemmyll we than hardely:
“For Douglas with yhon yhemanry,
“Sall haf no mycht till us, perfay.”
Than in a frusche assemblit thai.
Than mycht men heir the speris brast,
And men dyng apon othir fast,
And blude brist out at woundis wyde.
Thai faucht fast apon athir syde;
For athir party can thame payne
Till put thair fais on-bak agane.

The lordis of Nevell and Douglas,
Quhen that the fichting fellest was,
Met to-giddir richt in the pres.
Betuix thame than gret bargane wes;
Thai faucht felly with all thair maucht,
Gret rowtis athir till othir raucht.
Bot Douglas sterkar wes, I hicht,
And mair usit alsua to ficht,
And he set hert, and will alsua,
For till delyver him of his fa;
Quhill at the last, with mekill mayne,
Throu fors the Nevell has he slayne.
Than his ensenyhe he can hye cry,
And on the laiff so hardely
He ruschit, with all his menyhe,
That in-till schort tym men mycht se
Thair fayis tak on thame the flicht.
And thai thame chassit with all thar mycht.
Schir Ralf the Nevell, in the chas,
And the Baroun of Hiltoun was
Takin, and othyr of mekill mycht.
Thar wes fele slayne in-to that fycht,
That worthy in thar tyme had beyn.
And quhen the feld wes clengit cleyn,
Swa that thair fayis evirilkane
War slayn, or chassit away or tane,
Than gert he forray all the land,
And sessit all that evir he fand,
And brynt the townys in thar way;
Syne haill and feir haym cummyn ar thai.
The pray soyne emang his menyhe,
Eftir thar meritis, delit he,
And held no thing till his behuf.
Sic dedis aucht till ger men luf
Thair lorde, and swa thai did, perfay.
He tretit thame so wisly ay,
And with so mekill luf alsua,
And sic a countenans wald ma
Of thair deid, that the mast coward
Stoutar he maid than a libard;
With cherising thusgat maid he
His men wicht, and of gret bounte.

Qwhen Nevell thus wes broucht to ground,
And of Cailow Schir Edmound,
The dreid of the lorde Dowglas,
And his renoun, swa scalit was
Throu-out the marchis of Ingland,
That all that war thar-in duelland
Thai dred him as the devill of hell.
And yheit haf I herd oftsis tell,
That he so gretly dred wes than
That quhen wiffis wald thar childir ban,
Thai wald with rycht ane angry face,
Beteche thaim “to the blak Dowglas.”
For, with thair taill, he wes mair fell
Than wes ony devill in hell.
Throu his gret worschip and bounte,
Swa with his fayis dred wes he
That thaim growyt till heir his name.
He may at eis now duell at hame
A quhile, for I trow he sall nocht
With fais all a quhile be socht.
Now let him in the Forest be:
Of him no mair spek will we.
Bot of Schir Edward the worthy,
That with all his gude chevelry,
Wes at Cragfergus yheit liand,
To spek mair will we tak on hand.