Edward I at Newcastle, 1296

On 1st March 1296, King Edward I of England arrived at Newcastle for his appointment with John Balliol, King of the Scots. Balliol had been appointed to his esteemed position by a committee headed by the English king, so he was very much playing second fiddle in the meeting of the monarchs - and most certainly expected to at least turn up to pay homage, and to thereafter pretty much do as he was told. He didn't show; so Edward advanced into Scotland with his 30,000+ army, and brought his troublesome neighbours to heel at the Battle of Dunbar on 27th April 1296. And so began the First War of Scottish Independence.

The following piece appeared in several nineteenth century historical collections, though the exact, original source is rather difficult to pin down. It paints a vivid picture of Edward Longshanks impatiently awaiting the arrival of Balliol in the castle keep, his vast army bristling with anticipation. It is entitled Edward the First at Newcastle, A.D. 1296 - A Fragment, which implies the verse was part of a greater whole. If anyone knows anything more about the piece, then do leave a comment.

 

Meantime within Newcastle walls, 

Crowding her squares, her streets and halls, 

Ready to march to hill or glen, 

Full more than thirty thousand men, 

All armed and wearing mail and plate, 

The orders of their king await. 

Himself, within his massive hold, 

Surrounded by his barons bold, 

Discoursed of Balliol's perfidy, 

And how due chastisement should be 

Dealt upon those who dared disown 

His right to Scotland's ancient crown. 

Tall he appeared, his frame was spare, 

Swarthy his hue, and dark his hair; 

Firm was his look, his deep black eyes, 

As thoughts of war or high emprise 

To rouse his spirit might conspire, 

Flamed in his head like coals of fire. 

So plain his garb that those who gazed 

Upon their monarch were amazed, 

He should appear, arrayed so mean, 

In midst of such a martial scene; 

For arms and pennons waving far 

On every side, showed pomp of war, 

And thronged around him, bold and free, 

The pride of England's chivalry, 

Whilst her broad standard to the sky 

Streamed on the castle turrets high.

END of fragment.