This communication evidently excited no suspicion, and extensive preparations were at once made to extend to his Majesty a kind and hearty welcome. It was even hoped that he might be induced to dine at Gilnockie!
The Eliots and Armstrangs did convene;
They were a gallant cumpanie—
“We’ll ride and meet our lawful King,
And bring him safe to Gilnockie.
“Make kinnen[86] and capon ready, then,
And venison in great plentie;
We’ll welcum here our royal King;
I hope he’ll dine at Gilnockie!”
They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,
And brak their spears wi’ mickle main;
The ladies lukit frae their lofty windows—
“God bring our men weel hame again!”
When Johnie cam before the King,
Wi’ a’ his men sae brave to see,
The King he movit his bonnet to him;
He ween’d he was a King as well as he.
According to the balladist, it would seem that Armstrong’s ruin was brought about by the princely style in which he appeared before his sovereign. The King, highly displeased, turned away his head, and exclaimed—
“Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o’ my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin wi’ thee.”
This unexpected outburst of indignation led Armstrong at once to realise the perilous position in which he found himself placed. He now felt that, if his life was to be spared, he must use every means in his power to move the King to clemency. Consequently he promised to give him “four-and-twenty milk white steeds,” with as much good English gold “as four of their braid backs dow[87] bear;” “four-and-twenty ganging mills,” and “four-and-twenty sisters’ sons” to fight for him; but all these tempting offers were refused with disdain. As a last resource, he said—
“Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a brave gift I’ll gie to thee—
All between here and Newcastle town
Sall pay their yeirly rent to thee.”
This was no idle boast. So powerful had Armstrong become that, it is said, he levied black-mail—(which is only another form of the word “black-meal,” so-called from the conditions under which it was exacted)—over the greater part of Northumberland. But even the prospect of increasing his revenue by accepting this tribute was not sufficient to turn the King aside from his purpose. He was bent on Armstrong’s destruction, a fact which now became painfully evident to the eloquent and generous suppliant. Enraged at the baseness of the King, he turned upon him and gave vent to the pent up feelings of his heart—
“Ye lied, ye lied, now King,” he says,
“Altho’ a King and Prince ye be!
For I’ve luved naething in my life,
I weel dare say it, but honesty—
“Save a fat horse, and fair woman,
Twa bonny dogs to kill a deir,
But England suld have found me meal and mault,
Gif I had lived this hundred yeir!
“She suld have found me meal and mault,
And beef and mutton in a’ plentie;
But never a Scots wyfe could have said,
That e’er I skaith’d her a puir flee.
“To seik het water beneith cauld ice,
Surely it is a greit folie—
I have asked grace at a graceless face,
But there is nane for my men and me![88]
“But had I kenn’d ere I cam frae hame,
How thou unkind wadst been to me!
I wad have keepit the Border side,
In spite of all thy force and thee.
“Wist England’s King that I was ta’en,
O gin a blythe man he wad be!
For anes I slew his sister’s son,
And on his briest bane brak a trie.”
The balladist then proceeds to give a minute description of the dress worn by the redoubtable freebooter on this occasion—of his girdle, embroidered and bespangled with gold, and his hat, with its nine targets or tassels, each worth three hundred pounds. All that he needed to make him a king was “the sword of honour and the crown.” But nothing can now avail.
“Farewell! my bonny Gilnock hall,
Where on Esk side thou standest stout!
Gif I had lived but seven yeirs mair,
I wad hae gilt thee round about.”
John murdered was at Carlinrigg,
And all his gallant companie;
But Scotland’s heart was ne’er sae wae,
To see sae mony brave men die.