There is a ballad on the disgraceful capitulation of Preston in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 102, also, Northumberland Garland, p. 85, beginning "Mackintosh was a soldier brave."
Our King has wrote a long letter,
And sealed it ower with gold;
He sent it to my lord Dunwaters,
To read it if he could.
He has not sent it with a boy,5
Nor with any Scots lord;
But he's sent it with the noblest knight
E'er Scotland could afford.
The very first line that my lord did read,
He gave a smirkling smile;10
Before he had the half of it read,
The tears from his eyes did fall.
"Come saddle to me my horse," he said,
"Come saddle to me with speed;
For I must away to fair London town,15
For to me there was ne'er more need."
Out and spoke his lady gay,
In childbed where she lay:
"I would have you make your will, my lord Dunwaters,
Before you go away."20
"I leave to you, my eldest son,
My houses and my land;
I leave to you, my youngest son,
Ten thousand pounds in hand.
"I leave to you, my lady gay, —25
You are my wedded wife, —
I leave to you, the third of my estate,
That'll keep you in a lady's life."
They had not rode a mile but one,
Till his horse fell owre a stane:30
"It's a warning good enough," my lord Dunwaters said,
"Alive I'll ne'er come hame."