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gate swung back, the portcullis was raised, the drawbridge lowered, and out thundered Marmion, lance in rest, plunging straight into the enemy's squadron. He was unhorsed at once and fell, badly wounded; but the old constable was as good as his word. He led out the garrison on foot, who made wild work with their spears, driving them into the bowels of the horses. Many of the dismounted Scots were slain: the rest fled pell - mell. Then the women of the castle led out their horses to Gray's men, who mounted briskly, and pursued the flying Scots as far as the outskirts of Berwick, killing many of them and making prize of fifty valuable horses (cheualx de pris). Of

Marmion we hear no more, save that the Scots had made shipwreck of his features (ly naufrerent hu visage), which it is to be hoped did not prevent his lady-love rewarding him as he deserved.

Such skirmishes were of constant occurrence during the eleven years for which the elder Gray held Norham against the Scots, and maintz beaux faitz darmys by him and his men are recorded in the chronicle. Twice during that time he endured a regular siegeonce for a whole year, and again for seven months. The Lords Percy and Neville twice managed to convey supplies to him, or he must have capitulated from famine. All the other English strongholds on the Eastern March had fallen into Scottish hands except Alnwick and Bamborough. Norham itself was very nearly taken once, during Gray's absence in the south. One One of the garrison traitorously admitted the enemy to the outer baillery, which they held for three days. The garrison defended the keep, which the Scots endeavoured to undermine, but the approach of

Gray on his return caused them to take flight, after they had wrecked and burnt the outer defences.

The first action in which we have certain information of the chronicler himself taking part is that of Neville's Cross, October 17, 1346. Edward III. wrote afterwards to thank him for his services in this battle, wherein, with his own hand, he captured David Graham and John de Haliburton. It would have been most interesting to read the account of this decisive battle from the hand of an eye-witness; but unhappily the pages of the original which contained it are among those which have disappeared. So, also, has that part of the manuscript which describes his own capture in 1355, before Norham Castle, in which he had succeeded his father as constable. Leland gives it, however, in his abstract, though with tantalising brevity, as follows:


"Patrik erle of Marche, that was patisid with Garaunceris the baron of Fraunce, King John of Fraunce agent ther, wold not consent to this trews [arranged between Percy and Douglas], and so with other cam yn roode to the castel of Norham, and imbuschid themself apon the Scottische side of Twede, sending over a banaret with his baner, and 400 men to forage, and so gathering prayes drove them by the castelle. Thomas Gray (conestable of Norham, sunne to Thomas Gray that had been 3 tymes besegid by the Scottes in Norham castel yn king Edwarde the secunde dayes) seing the communes of England thus robbid, issuid out of Norham with few mo the [more than] 50 menne of the garnison, and a few of the communes, and, not knowing of Patrikes band be hynd, wer by covyn beset both before and behind with the Scottes. Yet for al that Gray with his men lightting apon foote set apon them with a wonderful corage, and killid mo of them than they did of thenglisch men. Yet wer there vi. Scottes yn numbre to one Englisch man, and

cam so sore on the communes of England that they began to fly, and then was Thomas Gray taken prisoner."

This summary agrees with the accounts of the same skirmish given by Wyntoun and Bower, though Wyntoun says that Gray had with him fourscore men-atarms, besides archers. He also errs in calling Sir Thomas's son, who was taken prisoner also, William. Like his father and grandfather, he, too, bore the name of Thomas. The Scottish "banaret" in command of the victors was Sir William Ramsay of Dalwolsey, whom David II. afterwards created Earl of Fife. Gray does not disdain to repeat the gossip of the day, to the effect that Ramsay owed his advancement to the charms of his wife, the King acting moult par enchesoun de sa femme qil amast paramurs, com len disoit. He tells, also, the sorrowful story of Katherine de Mortimer-vn damoisel de Loundres-to whom the impressionable king had lost his heart during his captivity. In 1360, the Queen of Scotland being at the court of her brother Edward III., David had the bad taste to take Miss Mortimer with him on a tour through his kingdom-cheuaucha toutdiz enuyroun ove ly-to the grievous offence of sundry of his lords. These hired a rascal called Richard de Hulle, who obtained an interview with Katherine as she was riding with the king near Melrose. On a pretext of pressing business, he detained her till the king had ridden forward a space, then plunged a knife into her breast, galloped off, and, being well mounted, escaped. The king, hearing Katherine's cry, rode back, and found her expiring.

The chronicle closes with the second marriage of David to Margaret de Logie in 1367-an ill

starred match. Gray says she had been four times married already, besides having lived with the king as his mistress, and the very last sentence he penned was the sage reflection-cest matrimoigne fust fait soulement per force damours, qe

toutz veint.

Reference has been made al

most exclusively to those passages in 'Scalacronica' which relate to the Scottish wars; but those who love to read of deeds of chivalry will find plenty of description of those enacted in the French campaigns of the English kings. Inasmuch, however, as the author does not seem to have served abroad, his narrative of foreign warfare lacks the great value of personal testimony. That which he witnessed himself, he tells with soldierlike brevity and straightforwardness, bringing out with painful vividness the cruelty peculiar to feudal warfare.

This did not consist, for the most part, of horrors wreaked upon women and children, as was common in later centuries. In the whole of the Scottish wars of the three Edwards, the only instances of that kind of butchery occurred during the sack of Berwick by Edward I. in the spring of 1296, and the simultaneous barbarities, including the massacre of 200 schoolboys, enacted by Balliol and Buchan at Hexham and Corbridge. was the War of Independence specially hard upon the commonalty, because of their indifference to its object. One may see, indeed, in the course of Gray's narrative, how general was this indifference in the beginning of the long dispute between England and Scotland. The bulk of the population in both countries was Anglo-Saxon; it was a matter of precious little concern to them


which set of foreign lords obtained dominion over them-the Normans who, from the days of David I., had been swarming over Scotland and called themselves Scots, or the other Normans who had swarmed over England and called themselves English, or, again, that not inconsiderable number of Normans, including both Bruces and Balliols, who owned lands in both countries, and acted alternately as English or Scots, as suited best their private interests. The inspiring influence of Robert de Brus, when at last he took up the cause of Scottish independence, undoubtedly did give a truly national character to the struggle; but to the ordinary English archer or spearman, enlisted in Hampshire or Warwickshire, it must always have been a matter of profound indifference whether he was told off for service in Gascony or in Galloway. This must always be the case when the people become involved in quarrels exclusively interesting to persons of quality. In this respect, therefore, the Scottish wars of England were no worse than the French or the Flemish. But the truly odious feature of chivalrous fighting was the unequal regard paid to the lives of knights and "communes." Bishops, barons, knights, esquires -all who could be expected to raise ransom for their liberty rode into the field with charmed lives. Nobody wanted to kill them; the object of the enemy was to capture them, and so win a lot of money. It was only in disasters of exceptional magnitude, such as Bannockburn on the one hand or Flodden on the other, that large numbers of eminent persons lost their lives. But common soldiers were merely pawns : as prisoners they were costly to keep, and it was far better to slay

as many as possible outright in the field, rather than have to cut their throats afterwards, as was done in the famous "Douglas larder."

It was the same in respect to damage done to private property. A landlord's estates might be wrecked; his tenants, having lost stock, crop, gear, and "insight,” might all be bankrupt and unable to pay a penny of rent. But let the knight have a turn of luck in the field let him capture one wealthy prisoner or more, it was enough to fill his coffers and fit him out for the next campaign. The common soldier might be as valiant as you please, he had not nearly as good a chance of making a good prize, owing to the law of chivalry, which permitted a knight when overpowered to name the person to whom he yielded. It was reckoned dishonourable to surrender to one less than an equal, and as these Norman nobles were closely related to each other in blood, they often managed to keep the money the family" by naming some cousin as their captor.


Gunpowder, which, when it was first used, seemed likely to make war even more horrible than before, was really a merciful invention. It put knight and churl on a level footing, for it was soon found that a bullet was as likely to find its billet in the carcass of the one as of the other.

Some of the admirers of that fine soldier Edward de Brus may have felt some chagrin at the account preserved of his death on the fatal field of Dundalk in 1318. Barbour says that on the morning of the battle Edward exchanged armour with one Gib Harper; that Gib was slain, and the conquerors, misled by the armour, believed him to be the King of Ireland, cut off his head, and sent it to King Edward. Now, for an officer of

high rank in the present day to exchange uniforms with a private soldier would be to avoid danger at the expense of the private, but, owing to the effects of the ransom system, Edward was doing precisely the reverse he was incurring greater risk of his life by disguising himself as one of lower degree.

Of sidelights on individual characters there is abundance in 'Scalacronica.' The estimate formed by Gray of that unhappy prince Edward II. deals very gently with a tarnished memory:

"He was sensible, gentle, and amiable in conversation, but maladroit (mesoeurous) in action. He was skil

ful in what he performed with his own hand. He was very sociable among his intimates, but solemn towards strangers, and far too much addicted to the society of one person at a time."

Sir Thomas Gray died in 1369, two years after the date at which his chronicle closes, being at the time one of the English wardens

of the East Marches, and constable of his beloved Norham Castle.

It is greatly to be desired that some one with adequate leisure, and with the turn for archaic language, should undertake a translation of that part of 'Scalacronica' which was printed for the Maitland Club, carefully collating it with the original manuscript at Cambridge. It would prove a useful work for students of history, and would furnish, besides, a delightful picture of social and military life not less vivid than Froissart's, and with the advantage of having been drawn by an observant soldier. Further, were the volume to be adorned with the

shields of all the knights mentioned, printed in gold and colours, as in Mr Wright's edition of the 'Roll of Caerlaverock,' what a splendid record of chivalry we should have! Such records, alas! run to a great deal of money, and we are not allowed now to raise the necessary funds by holding wealthy gentlemen to ransom.




SURELY as the world of night goes round, with clusters of stars thronging after one another, and loose wafts of vapour ever ready to flout them, and the spirit of dreams flitting over us, without any guidance of mind or matter, so surely will the dawn of our own little days bring new things to us, which we cannot understand in the clearest light of our wits beneath the sun. And of this I must give an instance now, sorry as I am to do it.

My sister Grace (the very sweetest girl, always excepting one of course, that ever tied a hat-string), what did she do but take a little touch of Cupid, without knowing anything about it? She denied it strongly, and hotly even; as a Swiss hotel-keeper abjures scarlet fever. But I insisted the more upon it; because it was quite picturesque to see Grace Cranleigh in a passion. I found it worth while to go as near the brink of a downright lie as a truthful man can step, without falling over, in order to rouse and work up this dear girl, till she actually longed to stamp her feet. There was a vivid element-the father calls it gold, and the brother calls it carrots-in her most abundant locks; and if you could only hit upon a gentle strain of chaff, which must have a little grain left in it, and pour it upon her with due gravity, she became a charming sight to a philosopher.

Her affection was so deep, and her character so placid, that a sharp word or two, or a knowing little sneer, produced nothing better than a look of wonder, or sometimes a

smile that abased them. She made no pretence to any varied knowledge, or power to settle moot questions-though she would have known where Daghestan was—and as for contradiction, her tongue was never made for it, though her mind must have whispered to her often enough that brother George's words outran his wits. In spite of all this, it was possible to put her in a very noble passion, when one had the time to spare. And it certainly was worth while for the beauty of the sight, as well as for increase of perception concerning the turns of the feminine mind. The first sign of success for the most part was a deepening of the delicate and limpid tint that flitted on the soft curves of cheek; and then if one went on with calm aggravation, that terrible portent, lightning in the blue sky of the eyes, and a seam (as of the finest needlework of an angel who hems her own handkerchief) just perceptible and no more, in the white simplicity of forehead. And after that (if you had the heart to go on), no tears, none of that opening of the dikes, which the Low Country quenches an invasion with, but a genuine burst of righteous wrath-queenly figure, and all that sort of thing, such as Britannia alone can achieve, when unfeeling nations have poked fun at her too long.

Filled with a spirit of discontent, and a longing to know how girls behave when they are beginning to think about somebody-for Dariel must be a girl, as well as an Archfemale-Angel-I contrived to fetch Grace to a prime state of wrath, the

1 Copyright, 1896, by Dodd, Mead & Co. in the United States of America.

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