The Salamanca Corpus: The Bishoprick Garland or a Collection of Legends, Songs, Ballads, &c. …(1834)

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Mickleton’s MSS. v. 1. p. 315.
It seems hardly necessary to say that the Cathedral Church of Durham is dedicated to St. Cuthbert, and the Cathedral of York to St. Peter. The lines themselves can hardly be of the age and time stated, but may be uncertain recollections of them in the time of Charles II.

The Dean and Chapter, or before them, the Prior and Convent of York, claimed to hold the keys of St. Cuthbert during the vacation of the See; and some Archbishop was forced to fly for his life down the steps behind the Black Bull Inn, for having attempted to assert his authority during the vacation.

On certain occasions, a person is sent to Durham to summon the Dean and Chapter to York, to do some act of submission, to which the Dean and Chapter of Durham answer, “your message is impertinent.”
On Tunstall grows the bonny Rose,

At Hetton, the lilly pale;

But the bonny Rose, wont kythe* with Bowes,

Sweet lilly of the Vale.

* Kythe—kin—be a-kin to. A junior branch of the family of Shadforth, of Eppleton, was seated at Tunstall; and Anthony Shadforth, of Tunstall, (who died in 1650) had several daughters. Isabel married Francis Jenkinson; Mary, married Henry Bowes, of Newcastle; Rebecca, married Robert De-la-vale, of little Eden, Esq.; and Eleanor, married Edward Dale, of Dalton-le-dale, gentleman. The allusion may possibly apply to Mary, (the rose of the fair state) who might refuse to kythe with Bowes at the time the stanza was written, and yet alter her mind afterwards. The other allusions are now, and perhaps for ever, buried in obscurity.


Sir Ralf Eure, at Ewrie, or Evers, commemorated in the following lines, was one of the bravest men of a military race. He was son of the first, and father of the second Lord Ewrie; and was himself created a Lord of Parliament during his father’s lifetime, 35th Henry VIII. The ballad is apparently a strain of gratulation upon that event. The poet, or more probably the reciter, has made some confusion in the lineage, by declaring that his hero was “married upon a Willoughbè.” His mother, however, was of that family, and he was “kin to the Nevil and to the Percy.” He was ennobled by Henry, on account of the vigour with which he prosecuted the border warfare. But after burning the Mers and Tiviotdale, and knocking at Edinburgh gate, Lord Ewrie was slain at the battle of Ancram Moor, fought between him and the Earl of Angus, in 1546. He was buried at Melrose Abbey, and his stone coffin may still be seen there—a little to the left of the great altar:—Scott’s Minstrelsy.
Lord Ewrie was as brave man

As ever stood in his degree;

The King has sent him a broad letter,

All for his courage and loyalty.*

Lord Ewrie is of gentill blode,

A Knighte’s son, sooth to say;

He is kin to the Nevill and to the Percy,

And is married upon a Willowbè.

A noble knight him trained upp,

Sir Rafe Bulmer † is the man I mean;

* A Patent of Nobility.

† Sir William Bulmer, of Brancepeth Castle, who is here said to have com-

At flodden field, as men do say,

No better Capten there was seen.

He led the men of Bishopricke,

When Thomas Ruthal bore the sway:

Though the Scottish Habs* were stout and true,

The English Bowman wan that day.

And since he has kept Berwicke upon Tweed,

The Town was never better kept, I wot;

He maintained leal and order along the Border,

And still was ready to prick the Scot.

The country then lay in great peace,

And grain and grass was sown and won;

Then plenty fill’d the market crosse,

When Lord Ewrie kept Berwicke town.

With our Queen’s brother † he hath been,

And rode rough-shod through Scotland of late;

They have burn’d the Mers and Tiviotdale,

And knocked full loud at Edinburgh gate.

Now the King hath sent him a broad letter,

A Lord of Parliament to be:

It were well if every nobleman

Stood like Lord Ewrie in his degree.

manded troops raised in the Bishopric, at the battle of Flodden-field, was descended from an ancient, and, at one period, noble family. The last who was summoned to Parliament as a Peer of the realm, was Ralph, (from 16th to 23d Edw. III.)
* Halberds; Spears.

† The Earl of Hertford, afterwards Duke of Somerset, brother to Queen Jane Seymour.

This song was written down by Mr. Surtees, of Mainsforth, (communicated by him to Sir Walter Scott), from the recitation of Rose Smith, of Bishop Middleham, aged upwards of ninety-one, whose husband’s father and two brothers, were killed in the affair of 1715.


The tradition runs that Pollard, a Champion Knight, for slaying a wild boar, had as much land granted to him, as he could ride round whilst the Bishop dined.

A family of the name of Pollard was seated at a very early period in the parish of Bishop Auckland; and one of their estates was called “Pollard’s den;” and the ceremony of presenting a faulchion to the Bishop soon after his entrance into the See, is still performed by the possessor of Pollard’s lands.*

The presentation speech is, as follows: —“My Lord, I, in behalf of myself, as well as several others, possessors of the Pollard’s lands, do humbly present your Lordship with this faulchion, at your first coming here, wherewith, as the tradition goeth, he slew of old a venomous serpent, which did much harm to man and beast; and by performing this service, we hold our lands.”

The family crest of Pollard, of Pollard Hall, was, an arm holding a faulchion.



The cauld lad was a domestic spirit, rarely seen, though nightly heard by the servants who slept in the great Hall. If, at night

* Hutchinson, v. 3, p. 350.

† Hilton Castle stands about three miles west of Wearmouth bridge, on the north side of the river. The centre only of the present building is
the kitchen was left in perfect order, he was heard breaking plates and dishes, and hurling the pewter in all directions, and throwing everything into confusion. If, on the contrary, the kitchen was left in disarray (a practice which the servants found most prudent, and most convenient to adopt), the indefatigable goblin arranged every thing with the greatest precision. This poor goblin, whose pranks were otherwise perfectly harmless, was at length banished by the usual expedient of presenting him with a suit of clothes. A green* cloak and a hood were laid before the kitchen fire, and the domestics sat up watching the event, at a prudent distance.

At twelve the sprite glided gently in, stood by the glowing embers, and surveyed the garments provided for him very attentively, tried them on, and seemed delighted with his appearance, frisking about for sometime, and cutting several summersets and

ancient; the west front bears the shields of many families connected with the Hiltons, (now considerably defaced,) and on the east front appears the singular crest of the family. Moses’s head horned.

* Green was always the colour of the cloak presented on such occasions; and we may suppose that tired, of his domestic drudgery, he went in his new livery to join the fairies.—Scott’s Minstrelsy.

The lad of Hilton (says Mr. Surtees, from whose pages the above account is taken), has been by popular tradition identified with the apparition of an unfortunate domestic, whom one of the old Chiefs of Hilton slew at some very distant period, in a moment of wrath or intemperance. The Baron had, it seems, on an important occasion, ordered his horse, which was not brought out so soon as was expected: he went to the stable, and found the boy loitering, and seizing a hay fork, struck, though not intentionally, a mortal blow.

The story adds, that he covered his victim with straw till night, and then threw him into the pond, where the skeleton of a boy was (in confirmation of the tale) discovered in the last Baron’s time. The story may possibly have had the foundation in the fact of the inquest held on the body of Roger Skelton, at Hilton, 3d July, 1609; when Robert Hilton, of Hilton, gentleman, was found to have killed him with a scythe, for which he received a pardon, 6th September, 1609.

gambadoes, till, on hearing the first cock crow, he twitched his mantle tight about him, repeating these lines:—
Here’s a cloak, and here’s a hood,

The cauld lad of Hilton will do no more good.



The Prior of Finkale has got a fair wife,

And every Monk will soon have one.

* * * * * * *

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