Читать книгу The Steel Bonnets - George Fraser MacDonald - Страница 14

It is impossible to say how many people lived in the sixteenth-century Borderland, but a rough idea may be given. D. L. W. Tough made an ingenious calculation based on the muster rolls of the English Marches in 1584;¹ these were supposed to include every man between 16 and 60, and by taking this age group to be a certain proportion of the whole, Tough was able to arrive at a figure of about 120,000 as the total population of the English Border. Checking against later census figures seemed to confirm his estimate, and for what it is worth it is interesting to make comparison with known populations in our own time.

In 1959 there were 45 million people in England and Wales; four centuries earlier, as nearly as can be estimated, there were about 45 million—a tenth of the modern figure. In 1959 there were 1,170,600 persons in Cumberland, Westmorland and Northumberland, and a tenth of that gives a 1559 population of 117,000, which is very close to Tough’s figure. Of course, this is a questionable calculation, but it is probably the best we can do.

Scotland is more difficult, because information is even scarcer than for England. Tough got as close as he could by making comparison with early nineteenth-century figures, and assuming a total Scottish population in 1600 of 600,000, arrived at a figure for the Scottish Borders of almost 45,000.

If this figure is subjected to the 1959 comparison, as we have done for England, it does not appear to stand up. Here it is:

In 1959 the population of Scotland was 5 million; in 1559, by reasonable deduction, it was possibly about half a million—one-tenth, as in the case of England. But the Scottish Border population in 1959 was 192,836, and one-tenth of that gives only 19,000 people in 1559, which is less than half of the 45,000 Tough estimated for 1600.

There is a possible explanation, and it tends to confirm Tough’s higher figure. Thanks to urban development in places like the Newcastle area, Carlisle, and the Cumbrian west coast, the population of the English Marches has probably kept pace over the centuries with the growth of England as a whole. But we may be sure that the Scottish Border has not kept pace with total Scottish growth; it has had no urban development like that of Northern England. So it is reasonable to assume that Scottish Border population has declined proportionately, and that the 1559 population figure would in fact be much higher than a straightforward comparison with 1959 suggests. Seen in this light Tough’s 45,000 seems reasonable—indeed, he himself wondered if it was not too low.

If we take 120,000 English and 50,000 Scots as the sixteenth-century Border population we are probably not far off the mark. And while we lack accurate figures, there are some facts obtainable; a document of November 1596 states categorically that the English West and Middle Marches far outnumber their Scottish opposites. It adds that the English East March is smaller and weaker than either of the others by “two-thirds at least”, and points out that the Scottish East and Middle Marches together contain 400 villages and steads, while the English East March has only 120. This loaded comparison indicates that the English East March felt itself very much the prey of the two Scottish Marches (see also Chapter XII).

But if there is doubt about the Borders’ numerical population, there is none about what kind of people they were. Visiting contemporaries as well as local sources are emphatic. Barbarous, crafty, vengeful, crooked, quarrelsome, tough, perverse, active, deceitful—there is a harmony about the adjectives to be found in travellers’ descriptions and official letters. In general it is conceded that the Borderers, English and Scottish, were much alike, that they made excellent soldiers if disciplined, but that the raw material was hard, wild, and ill to tame.

The younger Surrey,² the great English veteran who led the van at Flodden when England inflicted the heaviest defeat in Scottish history, was in no doubt about the Scottish Borderers. To him they were “the boldest men, and the hottest, that ever I saw any nation”. Froissart, writing from an earlier period, but again out of a knowledge that was Border-based, thought both Scots and English “good men of war, for when they meet there is a hard fight without sparing: there is no ‘Ho!’ between them as long as spears, swords, axes, or daggers will endure, but lay on each upon other”. How right he was; of course, he and Surrey were looking at the Borderers as soldiers, but on the frontier the line between civil and military was often ill-defined, even in peace-time.

Camden found the Borderers hard, like their country. “In the wastes … you may see as it were the ancient nomads, a martial kind of men who, from the month of April into August, lie out scattering and summering with their cattle, in little cottages here and there, which they call sheils and sheilings.” He could not survey the Roman Wall as closely as he wished “for the rank robbers thereabout”.

Camden knew the Scots West Marchmen as “infamous for robberies”; his view is balanced by the account of the English Middle March in 1549, from the Chorographia:

“The chief [dales] are Tynedale and Redesdale, a country that William the Conqueror did not subdue, retaining to this day the ancient laws and customs. These Highlanders are famous for thieving; they are all bred up and live by theft. They come down from these dales into the low countries, and carry away horses and cattle so cunningly, that it will be hard for any to get them or their cattle, except they be acquainted with some master thief, who for some money may help them to their stolen goods, or deceive them.”

Probably the fullest contemporary description of sixteenth-century Border life is that given by Leslie, Bishop of Ross, who will be more fully quoted in the chapter on reiving technique. He was a close student of social matters, and for the Scottish side at least, his account is the best obtainable.

The Borderers, he writes, “assume to themselves the greatest habits of licence.… For as, in time of war, they are readily reduced to extreme poverty by the almost daily inroads of the enemy, so, on the restoration of peace, they entirely neglect to cultivate their lands, though fertile, from the fear of the fruits of their labour being immediately destroyed by a new war. Whence it happens that they seek their subsistence by robberies, or rather by plundering and rapine, for they are particularly averse to the shedding of blood; nor do they much concern themselves whether it be from Scots or English that they rob and plunder.”

Leslie has a good deal to say of the characters of the Borderers, and it is not all bad. He is the main authority for the myth that they were reluctant to kill, except in feud; he also maintained “that having once pledged their faith, even to an enemy, they are very strict in observing it, insomuch that they think nothing can be more heinous than violated fidelity.”

In theory, possibly, but this is one of those hallowed Border legends which requires close examination. There was certainly in the sixteenth century a Border code of honour, a kind of hangover from the days of Percy and Douglas, recognised and referred to and in some ways respected. Robert Carey³ wrote to Cecil⁴ of Scottish gentlemen who “will rather lose their lives and livings, than go back from their word, and break the custom of the Border”. The last phrase is significant. One of Ralph Sadler’s⁵ English spies said the Scots had no scruples about stealing, “and yet they would not bewray any man that trust in them for all the gold in Scotland and France.” According to Leslie, to be publicly reproached a proven faith-breaker was a greater punishment “even than an honourable death inflicted on the guilty person”.

These are flat, general statements, and they obviously have some basis. But they do not accord with the written records of Border life, with their long catalogues of broken assurances, unredeemed pledges, and the like. If one studies the lives of, say, John Forster⁶ and John Maxwell,⁷ it may not be possible to prove either of them liars, but there can be no doubt that lies were being told by someone, profusely and persistently. Sir William Bowes⁸ despaired of the Scots, “that both can and will say more for a falsehoode, than for my own part I can doe for the truth”, and John Carey thought them “the most crafty and deceitful” on earth. Many of his fellow-officials agreed. The necessity of repeated Border legislation to deal with perjury does not speak for a truthful populace.

It is sometimes argued that Border law could not have been based on good faith and truth-telling if these had not been the norm. This is to miss the point. The law was so based because there was no alternative in a fairly primitive and unusual society. Good faith was an ideal, then as now, and it was recognised, but that doesn’t mean it was universally observed. Study of the written facts suggests that the Borderers were no more truthful or reliable than other men; they had their own eccentric notions of honour, but stainless veracity was not essential to it in practice. Bishop Leslie no doubt had good reason for his opinion, but the records appear to contradict him. Still, there will always be those eager to accept his view of the Borderers; personally, I wouldn’t have trusted them round the corner.

Breaking a promise is one thing; deliberate betrayal and treachery are rather different, and it is said that these were uncommon. It is difficult to judge at this distance, but again a study of the records makes one cautious about accepting blanket statements. Hector of Harlaw, the Carleton brothers, Black Ormiston, and Richie Graham will be mentioned later; their behaviour provides food for thought on the subject.

Leslie is interesting on Border morality as applied to property and theft. “They have a persuasion that all property is common by the law of nature, and is therefore liable to be appropriated by them in their necessity.” Later he adds: “Besides, they think the art of plundering so very lawful, that they never say over their prayers more fervently, or have more devout recurrence to their beads and their rosaries, than when they have made an expedition.”

Sometimes one gets the impression that the good bishop secretly admired the Border reivers. At least he is careful to do them justice, and there may be a clue to his attitude in that passage where he notes approvingly: “Nor indeed have the Borderers, with such ready frenzy as many others of the country, joined the heretical secession from the common faith of the holy church.” Rascals they might be, but Leslie counted them among his flock. Possibly he had not heard the story of the visitor to Liddesdale who, finding no churches, demanded: “Are there no Christians here?” and received the reply, “Na, we’s a’ Elliots and Armstrangs.”

Apart from the spiritual side, we know some other things about the old Border character. One has to remember, in quoting travellers’ stories, that most of those who visited Scotland, for example, wrote of the country as a whole, and what they described may not hold good for the Marches. But Pope Pius II, who visited the country in his earlier years when he was Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini, made observations which are pertinent; he noted the generally poor condition of the country, and that the men were small, bold and forward in temper, while the women, “fair in complexion, comely and pleasing” were “not distinguished for their chastity, giving their kisses more readily than Italian women their hands”.

This was in the fifteenth century; fifty years later Pedro de Ayala, a Spaniard, found the women “courteous in the extreme … really honest, though very bold”. He thought they dressed better than English women, and were in absolute control of their houses.

Several writers testify to a boastful tendency in the Scots, and Sylvius noted that nothing pleased them more than to hear the English abused. An English physician who lived in Scotland in the 1540s found that it was not in nature for a Scot to love an Englishman, and we have plenty of evidence of mutual loathing on either side. John Carey thought the Scots “the most perverst and prowde nacion in the world”, and paid them a back-handed compliment: whoever found himself up against them, the Scots were “such a people as will soon find what is in him.”

Eure,⁹ an English Warden, said of his own Marchmen that they “envied the stranger”; outsiders were not welcomed on either side of the line, as many of the later English Wardens, who were not Borderers, found to their cost. But one learns to be cautious about accepting some of the English officials’ strictures on the Borderers at their full face value; they were doubtless sincere, but they were under severe pressures in their office, and in writing to London they tended to give full vent to their feelings. One detects a fine rising note of hysteria in John Carey’s correspondence, and in that of Eure, who never found his feet as a Warden. Henry Leigh, a lesser official, once observed, with feeling, that the Borderers “were no cripples of their tongues”; neither were their Wardens.

A marked characteristic of the Marchmen, seemingly at odds with Anglo-Scottish rivalry, was their peculiar sense of community which made the Borderland an entity. Over and above inter-marriage and blood kinship, there was a common heritage that seemed to unite English and Scot on the Border against the outside world; they under stood each other and, to use a modern cliché, shared common problems. C. P. Snow touched in one of his novels on the phenomenon of two enemies who felt somehow closer to each other than to their own supporters, and this was true of the Border people. At its extreme this feeling manifested itself in one English invasion, when English and Scottish Borderers, on opposite sides as part of their national armies, were seen talking to each other “within less than a spear’s length, but when aware that such intercourse was noticed, they commenced to run at each other, apparently with no desire to inflict serious injury.”¹⁰

Often to English Wardens it seemed that their subjects were more at home with Scottish Borderers than with other Englishmen—usually for profit. The bond, created by geography, by common social conditions, and by a shared spirit of lawless independence, was a paradox that intermarriage strengthened. It has never entirely disappeared.

The tribal system, sometimes called clanship, also helped to foster it. Family unity as much as anything made the Borders and set them apart. Despite the feudal system, tribal loyalty was paramount; Scott noted that no matter what the family’s origin, Saxon, Norman, or Celtic, clanship persisted and was too strong for the government. “No Prince but a Percy” was a Northumberland saying, and on the English side the power of the local chieftain was a continuing matter of concern to London, especially when the Catholic North became a menace to the Reformed state. On both sides the chief of the tribe was the man who mattered; in England “the inhabitants acted less under the direction of their landlords than under that of the principal man of their name”. In Scotland clanship was recognised by a government that could do nothing about it anyway; the chiefs were to find pledges for keeping good order by the clan, just as landlords had to take responsibility for their tenants.

There is a tendency to think of clanship as a peculiarly Scottish thing, but it is evident that on the Border the tie of tribal blood was no stronger among the Kerrs and Scotts and Armstrongs of Scotland than among the Forsters, Ogles, Fenwicks, Charltons, Halls, and Musgraves of England.

And if it was not easy to be a chief or a landlord over such people, it was even harder to be a central government whose claims to loyalty and obedience were feeble by comparison. What member of the Scott family needed Edinburgh’s protection—or approval—when he had Buccleuch’s?

No doubt the clan system contributed to the poverty and economic decline of the Borders, as well as to their backwardness. Greedy overlords were a cause of decay, and so was overpopulation of the dales, which drove men out to steal. Poverty has perhaps been over-emphasised as a root cause of Border reiving, but it was certainly a spur. The oft-quoted phenomenon of Tynedale, where a deceased’s land must be divided equally among all his sons, “whereby beggars increase and service decays” was rightly a matter for reform in Eure’s eyes.

1. The Last Years of a Frontier, pp. 26–8.

2. Thomas Howard the younger (1474?–1554), Earl of Surrey and later Duke of Norfolk (1524). Fought in Spain, 1512; Lord High Admiral of England, 1513–25; Earl Marshal of England, 1533. An experienced Border fighter, he suppressed the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536. Uncle of Anne Boleyn.

3. Sir Robert Carey (1560–1639), was at different times Warden of the English East and Middle Marches, and also served in a subordinate capacity in the West March. Clever, brave, and something of a beau sabreur, he is one of the few Borderers to have left memoirs of his activities.

4. Sir Robert Cecil (1563–1612), third son of Lord Burghley, was Queen Elizabeth’s Secretary of State from 1596, although in effect he had been holding the post for some years before that. He worked hard to secure the succession of James VI of Scotland to the English throne. Created Earl of Salisbury, 1605.

5. Sir Ralph Sadler, English Ambassador to Scotland in the middle of the sixteenth century.

6. Sir John Forster (1501?–1602), an extraordinary English Borderer, held the Middle March Wardenship for almost thirty-five years, with only one brief break. He was over 100 when he died, having lived almost exactly through the sixteenth century, and seen every aspect of Border life. No one was more experienced or sunk in frontier affairs than Forster; unfortunately, although he was outstandingly brave, his honesty was seldom out of question.

7. Sir John Maxwell (1512?–1583), later Lord Herries, had a highly chequered career, during which he held the Scottish West March Wardenship five times.

8. Sir William Bowes, a treasurer of Berwick and a commissioner for Border affairs in the 1590s. There was a large family of Boweses, of whom the most famous was the earlier Sir Robert Bowes, who was Warden of the English East and Middle Marches in the 1540s, “a most expert Borderer”, and author of “Forme and Order of a Day of Truce”. A later Robert Bowes was Elizabeth’s ambassador to Scotland.

9. Ralph, 3rd Lord Eure (1538–1617) was English Middle March Warden from 1595–98, and had a hard time of it. Like some other Wardens, he failed to live up to the reputation of distinguished ancestors—in his case, his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had been Wardens. The great-grandfather, Sir William Eure, 1st Lord, had the East March in the 1530s and 1540s; his son, Sir Ralph Eure, held the Middle March in the 1540s, was notorious for his cruel raids in Scotland, and was finally killed at Ancrum Moor (1545)—he was the father of the 2nd Lord Eure, who was Middle March Warden in the 1550s and died in 1594. Confusion occasionally arises because of the various ways of spelling the name, which also appears as Eurie, Ewerie, Ewer, and Evers. Whenever “Eure” is quoted in this book the person referred to is Ralph, 3rd Lord, unless otherwise stated.

10. Scott, quoting Patten’s account of Somerset’s expedition into Scotland.