Francis James Child

THE LOCHMABEN HARPER.

This fine old ballad was first printed in the Musical Museum (O heard ye e'er of a silly blind Harper, p. 598). Scott inserted a different copy, equally good, in the Border Minstrelsy, i. 422, and there is another, of very ordinary merits, in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads (The Jolly Harper), p. 37. In this the theft is done on a wager, and the booty duly restored. On account of the excellence of the ballad, we give two versions, though they differ but slightly.

O heard ye of a silly Harper,
Liv'd long in Lochmaben town,
How he did gang to fair England,
To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown?

But first he gaed to his gude wife
Wi' a' the speed that he coud thole:
"This wark," quo' he, "will never work,
Without a mare that has a foal."

Quo' she, "Thou hast a gude grey mare,
That'll rin o'er hills baith low and hie;10
Gae tak' the grey mare in thy hand,
And leave the foal at hame wi' me.

"And tak a halter in thy hose,
And o' thy purpose dinna fail;
But wap it o'er the Wanton's nose;15
And tie her to the grey mare's tail:

"Syne ca' her out at yon back yeate,
O'er moss and muir and ilka dale,
For she'll ne'er let the Wanton bite,
Till she come hame to her ain foal."20

So he is up to England gane,
Even as fast as he can hie,
Till he came to King Henry's yeate;
And wha' was there but King Henry?

"Come in," quo' he, "thou silly blind Harper,25
And of thy harping let me hear;"
"O, by my sooth," quo' the silly blind Harper,
"I'd rather hae stabling for my mare."

The King looks o'er his left shoulder,
And says unto his stable groom,30
"Gae tak the silly poor Harper's mare,
And tie her 'side my wanton brown."

And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit,
Till a' the lords gaed through the floor;
They thought the music was sae sweet,35
That they forgat the stable door.

And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit,
Till a' the nobles were sound asleep,
Than quietly he took aff his shoon,
And saftly down the stair did creep.40

Syne to the stable door he hies,
Wi' tread as light as light coud be,
And whan he open'd and gaed in,
There he fand thirty good steeds and three.

He took the halter frae his hose,45
And of his purpose did na' fail;
He slipt it o'er the Wanton's nose,
And tied it to his grey mare's tail.

He ca'd her out at yon back yeate,
O'er moss and muir and ilka dale,50
And she loot ne'er the Wanton bite,
But held her still gaun at her tail.

The grey mare was right swift o' fit,
And did na fail to find the way,
For she was at Lochmaben yeate,55
Fu' lang three hours ere it was day.

When she came to the Harper's door,
There she gae mony a nicher and snear;
"Rise," quo' the wife, "thou lazy lass,
Let in thy master and his mare."60

Then up she raise, pat on her claes,
And lookit out through the lock hole;
"O, by my sooth," then quoth the lass,
"Our mare has gotten a braw big foal."

"Come haud thy peace, thou foolish lass,65
The moon's but glancing in thy ee,
I'll wad my haill fee 'gainst a groat,
It's bigger than e'er our foal will be."

The neighbours too that heard the noise
Cried to the wife to put her in;70
"By my sooth," then quoth the wife,
"She's better than ever he rade on."

But on the morn at fair day light,
When they had ended a' their chear,
King Henry's Wanton Brown was stawn,75
And eke the poor old Harper's mare.

"Alace! alace!" says the silly blind Harper,
"Alace! alace! that I came here,
In Scotland I've tint a braw cowte foal,
In England they've stawn my guid grey mare."

"Come had thy tongue, thou silly blind Harper,81
And of thy alacing let me be,
For thou shall get a better mare,
And weel paid shall thy cowte foal be."

---

LOCHMABEN HARPER.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, i. 422.

O heard ye na o' the silly blind Harper,
How long he lived in Lochmaben town?
And how he wad gang to fair England,
To steal the Lord Warden's Wanton Brown?

But first he gaed to his gude wyfe,5
Wi' a the haste that he could thole—
"This wark," quo' he, "will ne'er gae weel,
Without a mare that has a foal."

Quo' she—"Thou hast a gude gray mare,
That can baith lance o'er laigh and hie;10
Sae set thee on the gray mare's back,
And leave the foal at hame wi' me."

So he is up to England gane,
And even as fast as he may drie;
And when he cam to Carlisle gate,15
O whae was there but the Warden hie?

"Come into my hall, thou silly blind Harper,
And of thy harping let me hear!"
"O, by my sooth," quo' the silly blind Harper,
"I wad rather hae stabling for my mare."20

The Warden look'd ower his left shoulder,
And said unto his stable groom—
"Gae take the silly blind Harper's mare,
And tie her beside my Wanton Brown."

Then aye he harped, and aye he carped,25
Till a' the lordlings footed the floor;
But an the music was sae sweet,
The groom had nae mind o' the stable door.

And aye he harped, and aye he carped,
Till a' the nobles were fast asleep;30
Then quickly he took aff his shoon,
And saftly down the stair did creep.

Syne to the stable door he hied,
Wi' tread as light as light could be;
And when he open'd and gaed in,35
There he fand thirty steeds and three.

He took a cowt halter frae his hose,
And o' his purpose he didna fail;
He slipt it ower the Wanton's nose,
And tied it to his gray mare's tail.40

He turn'd them loose at the castle gate,
Ower muir and moss and ilka dale;
And she ne'er let the Wanton bait,
But kept him a-galloping hame to her foal.

The mare she was right swift o' foot,45
She didna fail to find the way;
For she was at Lochmaben gate
A lang three hours before the day.

When she came to the Harper's door,
There she gave mony a nicker and sneer—50
"Rise up," quo' the wife, "thou lazy lass;
Let in thy master and his mare."

Then up she rose, put on her clothes,
And keekit through at the lock-hole—
"O, by my sooth," then cried the lass,55
"Our mare has gotten a braw brown foal!"

"Come haud thy tongue, thou silly wench!
The morn's but glancing in your ee;
I'll wad my hail fee against a groat,
He's bigger than e'er our foal will be."60

Now all this while in merry Carlisle
The Harper harped to hie and law,
And the fiend dought they do but listen him to,
Until that the day began to daw.

But on the morn at fair daylight,65
When they had ended a' their cheer,
Behold the Wanton Brown was gane,
And eke the poor blind Harper's mare!

"Allace! allace!" quo' the cunning auld Harper,
"And ever allace that I cam here;70
In Scotland I hae lost a braw cowt foal,
In England they've stown my gude gray mare!"

"Come, cease thy allacing, thou silly blind Harper,
And again of thy harping let us hear;
And weel payd sall thy cowt-foal be,75
And thou sall have a far better mare."

Then aye he harped, and aye he carped,
Sae sweet were the harpings he let them hear!
He was paid for the foal he had never lost,79
And three times ower for the gude Gray Mare.

---

JOHNIE OF BREADISLEE.

AN ANCIENT NITHSDALE BALLAD.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 114.

"The hero of this ballad appears to have been an outlaw and deer-stealer—probably one of the broken men residing upon the Border. There are several different copies, in one of which the principal personage is called Johnie of Cockielaw. The stanzas of greatest merit have been selected from each copy. It is sometimes said, that this outlaw possessed the old Castle of Morton, in Dumfries-shire, now ruinous: "Near to this castle there was a park, built by Sir Thomas Randolph, on the face of a very great and high hill; so artificially, that, by the advantage of the hill, all wild beasts, such as deers, harts, and roes, and hares, did easily leap in, but could not get out again; and if any other cattle, such as cows, sheep, or goats, did voluntarily leap in, or were forced to do it, it is doubted if their owners were permitted to get them out again." Account of Presbytery of Penpont, apud Macfarlane's MSS. Such a park would form a convenient domain to an outlaw's castle, and the mention of Durisdeer, a neighboring parish, adds weight to this tradition."

Johnie of Breadislee was first printed in the Border Minstrelsy. Fragments of two other versions, in which the hero's name is Johny Cock, were given in Fry's Pieces of Ancient Poetry, Bristol, 1814, p. 55, and the editor did not fail to notice that he had probably lighted on the ballad of Johny Cox, which Ritson says the Rev. Mr. Boyd faintly recollected, (Scottish Song, I. p. xxxvi.) Motherwell, not aware of what Fry had done, printed a few stanzas belonging to the first of these versions, under the title of Johnie of Braidisbank (Minstrelsy, Ancient and Modern, p. 23), and Kinloch recovered a nearly complete story. Another copy of this last has been published from Buchan's manuscripts in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads (Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 77). Chambers, in his Scottish Ballads, p. 181, has compounded Scott's, Kinloch's, and Motherwell's copies, interspersing a few additional stanzas of no value. Scott's and Kinloch's versions are given in this place, and Fry's fragments (which contain several beautiful stanzas) in the Appendix.

Johnie rose up in a May morning,
Call'd for water to wash his hands—
"Gar loose to me the gude graie dogs,
That are bound wi' iron bands."

When Johnie's mother gat word o' that,5
Her hands for dule she wrang—
"O Johnie! for my benison,
To the greenwood dinna gang!

"Eneugh ye hae o' gude wheat bread,
And eneugh o' the blood-red wine;10
And, therefore, for nae venison, Johnie,
I pray ye, stir frae hame."

But Johnie's busk't up his gude bend bow,
His arrows, ane by ane,
And he has gane to Durrisdeer,15
To hunt the dun deer down.

As he came down by Merriemass,
And in by the benty line,
There has he espied a deer lying
Aneath a bush of ling.20

Johnie he shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he wounded her on the side;
But atween the water and the brae,
His hounds they laid her pride.

And Johnie has bryttled the deer sae weel,25
That he's had out her liver and lungs;
And wi' these he has feasted his bluidy hounds,
As if they had been earl's sons.

They eat sae much o' the venison,
And drank sae much o' the blude,30
That Johnie and a' his bluidy hounds
Fell asleep as they had been dead.

And by there came a silly auld carle,
An ill death mote he die!
For he's awa' to Hislinton,35
Where the Seven Foresters did lie.

"What news, what news, ye gray-headed carle,
What news bring ye to me?"
"I bring nae news," said the gray-headed carle,
"Save what these eyes did see.40

"As I came down by Merriemass,
And down among the scroggs,
The bonniest childe that ever I saw
Lay sleeping amang his dogs.

"The shirt that was upon his back45
Was o' the Holland fine;
The doublet which was over that
Was o' the Lincome twine.

"The buttons that were on his sleeve
Were o' the goud sae gude:50
The gude graie hounds he lay amang,
Their mouths were dyed wi' blude."

Then out and spak the First Forester,
The heid man ower them a'—
"If this be Johnie o' Breadislee,55
Nae nearer will we draw."

But up and spak the Sixth Forester,
(His sister's son was he,)
"If this be Johnie o' Breadislee,
We soon shall gar him die!"60

The first flight of arrows the Foresters shot,
They wounded him on the knee;
And out and spak the Seventh Forester,
"The next will gar him die."

Johnie's set his back against an aik,65
His fute against a stane;
And he has slain the Seven Foresters,
He has slain them a' but ane.

He has broke three ribs in that ane's side,
But and his collar bane;70
He's laid him twa-fald ower his steed,
Bade him carry the tidings hame.

"O is there nae a bonnie bird
Can sing as I can say,
Could flee away to my mother's bower,75
And tell to fetch Johnie away?"

The starling flew to his mother's window stane,
It whistled and it sang;
And aye the ower word o' the tune
Was—"Johnie tarries lang!"80

They made a rod o' the hazel bush,
Another o' the slae-thorn tree,
And mony mony were the men
At fetching o'er Johnie.

Then out and spake his auld mother,85
And fast her tears did fa'—
"Ye wad nae be warn'd, my son Johnie,
Frae the hunting to bide awa'.

"Aft hae I brought to Breadislee
The less gear and the mair,90
But I ne'er brought to Breadislee
What grieved my heart sae sair.

"But wae betyde that silly auld carle!
An ill death shall he die!
For the highest tree in Merriemas95
Shall be his morning's fee."

Now Johnie's gude bend bow is broke,
And his gude graie dogs are slain;
And his bodie lies dead in Durrisdeer,
And his hunting it is done.100

---

JOHNIE OF COCKLESMUIR.

From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 38. This version was procured in the North Country. The termination would seem to be wanting, for the story must have had a tragical conclusion. Buchan's copy ends very insipidly with the King's granting Johny a free license to hunt!

Johnie rose up in a May morning,
Call'd for water to wash his hands;
And he has call'd for his gude gray hunds,
That lay bund in iron bands, bands,
That lay bund in iron bands.

"Ye'll busk, ye'll busk my noble dogs,5
Ye'll busk and mak them boun,
For I'm going to the Broadspear-hill,
To ding the dun deer doun, doun, &c.

Whan Johnie's mither heard o' this,
She til her son has gane—10
"Ye'll win your mither's benison,
Gin ye wad stay at hame.

"Your meat sall be of the very very best,
And your drink o' the finest wine;
And ye will win your mither's benison,15
Gin ye wad stay at hame."

His mither's counsel he wad na tak,
Nor wad he stay at hame;
But he's on to the Broadspear-hill,
To ding the dun deer doun.20

Johnie lookit east, and Johnie lookit west,
And a little below the sun;
And there he spied the dun deer sleeping,
Aneath a buss o' brume.

Johnie shot, and the dun deer lap,25
And he's woundit him in the side;
And atween the water and the wud
He laid the dun deer's pride.

They ate sae meikle o' the venison,
And drank sae meikle o' the blude,30
That Johnie and his twa gray hunds,
Fell asleep in yonder wud.

By there cam a silly auld man,
And a silly auld man was he;
And he's aff to the proud foresters,35
To tell what he did see.

"What news, what news, my silly auld man,
What news? come tell to me;"
"Na news, na news," said the silly auld man,
"But what my een did see.40

"As I cam in by yon greenwud,
And doun amang the scrogs,
The bonniest youth that e'er I saw,
Lay sleeping atween twa dogs.

"The sark that he had on his back,45
Was o' the Holland sma';
And the coat that he had on his back,
Was laced wi' gowd fu' braw."

Up bespak the first forester,
The first forester of a'—50
"And this be Johnie o' Cocklesmuir,
It's time we were awa."

Up bespak the niest forester,
The niest forester of a'—
"And this be Johnie Cocklesmuir,55
To him we winna draw."

The first shot that they did shoot,
They woundit him on the thie;
Up bespak the uncle's son,—
"The niest will gar him die."60

"Stand stout, stand stout, my noble dogs,
Stand stout and dinna flee;
Stand fast, stand fast, my gude gray hunds,
And we will mak them die."

He has killed six o' the proud foresters,65
And wounded the seventh sair;
He laid his leg out owre his steed,
Says, "I will kill na mair."

---

THE SANG OF THE OUTLAW MURRAY.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, i. 369.

"This ballad appears to have been composed about the reign of James V. It commemorates a transaction supposed to have taken place betwixt a Scottish monarch and an ancestor of the ancient family of Murray of Philiphaugh, in Selkirkshire. The Editor is unable to ascertain the historical foundation of the tale; nor is it probable that any light can be thrown upon the subject, without an accurate examination of the family charter-chest....

"The merit of this beautiful old tale, it is thought, will be fully acknowledged. It has been, for ages, a popular song in Selkirkshire. The scene is by the common people supposed to have been the Castle of Newark upon Yarrow. This is highly improbable, because Newark was always a royal fortress. Indeed, the late excellent antiquarian, Mr. Plummer, Sheriff-depute of Selkirkshire, has assured the Editor that he remembered the insignia of the unicorns, &c., so often mentioned in the ballad, in existence upon the old Tower of Hangingshaw, the seat of the Philiphaugh family; although, upon first perusing a copy of the ballad, he was inclined to subscribe to the popular opinion. The Tower of Hangingshaw has been demolished for many years. It stood in a romantic and solitary situation, on the classical banks of the Yarrow. When the mountains around Hangingshaw were covered with the wild copse which constituted a Scottish forest, a more secure stronghold for an outlawed baron can scarcely be imagined.

"The tradition of Ettrick Forest bears, that the outlaw was a man of prodigious strength, possessing a baton or club, with which he laid lee (i. e. waste) the country for many miles round; and that he was at length slain by Buccleuch, or some of his clan, at a little mount, covered with fir-trees, adjoining to Newark Castle, and said to have been a part of the garden. A varying tradition bears the place of his death to have been near to the house of the Duke of Buccleuch's gamekeeper, beneath the castle; and that the fatal arrow was shot by Scott of Haining, from the ruins of a cottage on the opposite side of Yarrow. There were extant, within these twenty years, some verses of a song on his death. The feud betwixt the Outlaw and the Scots, may serve to explain the asperity with which the chieftain of that clan is handled in the ballad.

"In publishing the following ballad, the copy principally resorted to is one apparently of considerable antiquity, which was found among the papers of the late Mrs. Cockburn of Edinburgh, a lady whose memory will be long honoured by all who knew her. Another copy, much more imperfect, is to be found in Glenriddel's MSS. The names are in this last miserably mangled, as is always the case when ballads are taken down from the recitation of persons living at a distance from the scenes in which they are laid. Mr. Plummer also gave the editor a few additional verses, not contained in either copy, which are thrown into what seemed their proper place. There is yet another copy in Mr. Herd's MSS., which has been occasionally made use of. Two verses are restored in the present edition, from the recitation of Mr. Mungo Park, whose toils during his patient and intrepid travels in Africa have not eradicated from his recollection the legendary lore of his native country."—S.

Since the above was printed, Mr. Aytoun has published still another copy of this piece, (Ballads of Scotland, ii. 129,) from a manuscript in the Philiphaugh charter-chest. I cannot assent to the praise bestowed by Scott on The Outlaw Murray. The story lacks point, and the style is affected—not that of the unconscious poet of the real traditional ballad.

38. Thomas Boyd, Earl of Arran, was forfeited, with his father and uncle, in 1469, for an attempt on the person of James III. He had a son, James, who was restored, and in favor with James IV. about 1482. If this be the person here meant, we should read, "The Earl of Arran his son was he." Glenriddel's copy reads, "a Highland laird I'm sure was he." Reciters sometimes call the messenger the Laird of Skene.—S.60. Birkendale Brae, now commonly called Birkendailly, is steep descent on the south side of Minch-moor, which separates Tweeddale from Ettrick Forest; and from the top of which we have the first view of the woods of Hangingshaw, the Castle of Newark, and the romantic dale of Yarrow.—S.63, Scott, blows: Aytoun, bows.154. This is a place at the head of Moffat-water, possessed of old by the family of Halliday.—S.173. This family were ancestors of the Murrays, Earls of Annandale; but the name of the representative, in the time of James IV., was William, not Andrew. Glenriddel's MS. reads, "the country-keeper."—S.183. Before the Barony of Traquair became the property of the Stewarts, it belonged to a family of Murrays, afterwards Murrays of Black-barony, and ancestors of Lord Elibank. The old castle was situated on the Tweed. The lands of Traquair were forfeited by Willielmus de Moravia, previous to 1464; for, in that year, a charter, proceeding upon his forfeiture, was granted by the crown to "Willielmo Douglas de Cluny." Sir James was, perhaps, the heir of William Murray. It would farther seem, that the grant in 1464 was not made effectual by Douglas; for another charter from the crown, dated the 3d February, 1478, conveys the estate of Traquair to James Stewart, Earl of Buchan, son of the Black Knight of Lorne, and maternal uncle to James III., from whom is descended the present Earl of Traquair. The first royal grant not being followed by possession, it is very possible that the Murrays may have continued to occupy Traquair long after the date of that charter. Hence, Sir James might have reason to say, as in the ballad, "The King has gifted my lands lang syne."—S.195, A ford on the Tweed, at the mouth of the Caddon Burn, near Yair.—S.247. Permanscore is a very remarkable hollow on the top of a high ridge of hills, dividing the vales of Tweed and Yarrow, a little to the eastward of Minch-moor. It is the outermost point of the lands of Broadmeadows. The Glenriddel MS., which, in this instance, is extremely inaccurate as to names, calls the place of rendezvous, "The Poor Man's House," and hints that the Outlaw was surprised by the treachery of the King:—

"Then he was aware of the King's coming,
With hundreds three in company,
'I wot the muckle deel * * * * *
He learned Kingis to lie!
For to fetch me here frae amang my men,
Here, like a dog for to die.'"

I believe the reader will think with me, that the catastrophe is better, as now printed from Mrs. Cockburn's copy. The deceit, supposed to be practised on the Outlaw, is unworthy of the military monarch, as he is painted in the ballad; especially if we admit him to be King James IV.—S.312. In this and the following verse, the ceremony of feudal investiture is supposed to be gone through, by the Outlaw resigning his possessions into the hands of the king, and receiving them back, to be held of him as superior. The lands of Philiphaugh are still possessed by the Outlaw's representative. Hangingshaw and Lewinshope were sold of late years. Newark, Foulshiels, and Tinnies, have long belonged to the family of Buccleuch.—S.

---

JOHNIE ARMSTRANG.

"Johnie Armstrong, of Gilnockie, the hero of the following ballad, is a noted personage, both in history and tradition. He was, it would seem from the ballad, a brother of the Laird of Mangertoun, chief of the name. His place of residence (now a roofless tower) was at the Hollows, a few miles from Langholm, where its ruins still serve to adorn a scene, which, in natural beauty, has few equals in Scotland. At the head of a desperate band of freebooters, this Armstrong is said to have spread the terror of his name almost as far as Newcastle, and to have levied black-mail, or protection and forbearance money, for many miles round. James V., of whom it was long remembered by his grateful people that he made the "rush-bush keep the cow," about 1529, undertook an expedition through the Border counties, to suppress the turbulent spirit of the Marchmen. But before setting out upon his journey, he took the precaution of imprisoning the different Border chieftains, who were the chief protectors of the marauders. The Earl of Bothwell was forfeited, and confined in Edinburgh Castle. The Lords of Home and Maxwell, the Lairds of Buccleuch, Fairniherst, and Johnston, with many others, were also committed to ward. Cockburn of Henderland, and Adam Scott of Tushielaw, called the King of the Border, were publicly executed.—Lesley, p. 430. The King then marched rapidly forward, at the head of a flying army of ten thousand men, through Ettrick Forest and Ewsdale. The evil genius of our Johnie Armstrong, or, as others say, the private advice of some courtiers, prompted him to present himself before James, at the head of thirty-six horse, arrayed in all the pomp of Border chivalry. Pitscottie uses nearly the words of the ballad, in describing the splendor of his equipment, and his high expectations of favor from the King. "But James, looking upon him sternly, said to his attendants, 'What wants that knave that a king should have?' and ordered him and his followers to instant execution."—"But John Armstrong," continues this minute historian, "made great offers to the King: That he should sustain himself, with forty gentlemen, ever ready at his service, on their own cost, without wronging any Scottishman: Secondly, that there was not a subject in England, duke, earl, or baron, but, within a certain day, he should bring him to his majesty, either quick or dead. At length, he seeing no hope of favor, said very proudly, 'It is folly to seek grace at a graceless face; but,' said he, 'had I known this, I should have lived upon the Borders in despite of King Harry and you both; for I know King Harry would downweigh my best horse with gold, to know that I were condemned to die this day."—Pitscottie's History, p. 145. Johnie and all his retinue were accordingly hanged upon growing trees, at a place called Carlenrig Chapel, about ten miles above Hawick, on the high road to Langholm. The country people believe, that, to manifest the injustice of the execution, the trees withered away. Armstrong and his followers were buried in a deserted churchyard, where their graves are still shown.

"As this Border hero was a person of great note in his way, he is frequently alluded to by the writers of the time. Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, in the curious play published by Mr. Pinkerton, from the Bannatyne MS., introduces a pardoner, or knavish dealer in relics, who produces, among his holy rarities—

—"The cordis, baith grit and lang,
Quhilk hangit Johnnie Armstrang,
Of gud hempt, soft and sound.
Gud haly pepill, I stand ford,
Quhavir beis hangit in this cord,
Neidis nevir to be dround!"

Pinkerton's Scottish Poems, vol. ii. p. 69.

"In The Complaynt of Scotland, John Armistrangis' dance, mentioned as a popular tune, has probably some reference to our hero." [See the Musical Museum, ed. 1853, vol. iv. p. 336.]—Scott's Minstrelsy, i. 402.

The ballad as here given is to be found in A Collection of Old Ballads, 1723, vol. i. p. 170. The whole title is: Johnny Armstrang's Last Good-night, shewing how John Armstrong, with his eightscore men, fought a bloody battle with the Scotch King at Edenborough. It had previously appeared in Wit Restor'd, 1658, p. 123, in very good shape, except the want of some stanzas towards the end. It is in this form, says Motherwell, that the story is preserved in the mouths of the people. Nevertheless, Allan Ramsay has inserted in his Evergreen quite a different version, taken down from the mouth of a gentleman of the name of Armstrong, "the sixth generation from this John," which the reciter maintained to be the genuine ballad, "and the common one false."

Ramsay's copy is subjoined, and the imperfect edition from Wit Restor'd finds a place in the Appendix.

The following verses, generally styled Armstrong's Good-night, are said to have been composed by one of that tribe who was executed in 1601 for the murder of Sir John Carmichael, Warden of the Middle Marches. They are from Johnson's Museum, p. 620, and are also found in Herd's Scottish Songs, ii. 182. In Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 127, there is a twaddling piece called The Last Guid Night, which is a sort of imitation of these stanzas.

The night is my departing night,
The morn's the day I maun awa,
There's no a friend or fae of mine,
But wishes that I were awa.

What I hae done for lack o' wit
I never never can reca';
I trust ye're a' my friends as yet,
Gude night, and joy be wi' you a'.

---

Is there ever a man in all Scotland,
From the highest estate to the lowest degree,
That can shew himself now before our King?
Scotland is so full of treachery.

Yes, there is a man in Westmorland,5
And Johnny Armstrong they do him call;
He has no lands nor rents coming in,
Yet he keeps eightscore men within his hall.

He has horses and harness for them all,
And goodly steeds that be milk-white,10
With their goodly belts about their necks,
With hats and feathers all alike.

The King he writes a loving letter,
And with his own hand so tenderly,
And hath sent it unto Johnny Armstrong,15
To come and speak with him speedily.

When John he look'd this letter upon,
He lok'd as blith as a bird in a tree;
"I was never before a King in my life,
My father, my grandfather, nor none of us three.20

"But seeing we must go before the King,
Lord, we will go most gallantly;
Ye shall every one have a velvet coat,
Laid down with golden laces three.

"And every one shall have a scarlet cloak,25
Laid down with silver laces five,
With your golden belts about your necks,
With hats and feathers all alike."

But when Johnny went from Giltnock-Hall,
The wind it blew hard, and full fast it did rain;
"Now fare thee well, thou Giltnock-Hall,30
I fear I shall never see thee again."

Now Johnny he is to Edenborough gone,
With his eightscore men so gallantly,
And every one of them on a milk-white steed,35
With their bucklers and swords hanging to their knee.

But when John came the King before,
With his eightscore men so gallant to see,
The King he mov'd his bonnet to him,
He thought he had been a king as well as he.40

"O pardon, pardon, my sovereign liege,
Pardon for my eightscore men and me;
For my name, it is Johnny Armstrong,
And subject of yours, my liege," said he.

"Away with thee, thou false traytor,45
No pardon will I grant to thee,
But to-morrow morning by eight of the clock,
I will hang up thy eightscore men and thee."

Then Johnny look'd over his left shoulder,
And to his merry men thus said he,50
"I have asked grace of a graceless face,
No pardon there is for you and me."

Then John pull'd out his good broad sword,
That was made of the mettle so free;
Had not the King moved his foot as he did,55
John had taken his head from his fair body.

"Come, follow me, my merry men all,
We will scorn one foot for to fly;
It shall never be said we were hang'd like dogs;
We will fight it out most manfully."60

Then they fought on like champions bold,
For their hearts were sturdy, stout, and free;
'Till they had kill'd all the King's good guard,—
There were none left alive but one, two, or three.

But then rose up all Edenborough,65
They rose up by thousands three;
A cowardly Scot came John behind,
And run him through the fair body.

Said John, "Fight on, my merry men all,
I am a little wounded, but am not slain;70
I will lay me down to bleed a while,
Then I'll rise and fight with you again."

Then they fought on like mad men all,
Till many a man lay dead on the plain,
For they were resolved before they would yield,75
That every man would there be slain.

So there they fought couragiously,
'Till most of them lay dead there and slain,
But little Musgrave, that was his foot-page,
With his bonny Grissel got away unta'n.80

But when he came to Giltnock-Hall,
The Lady spy'd him presently;
"What news, what news, thou little foot-page,
What news from thy master, and his company?"

"My news is bad, Lady," he said,85
"Which I do bring, as you may see,
My master Johnny Armstrong is slain,
And all his gallant company.

"Yet thou are welcome home, my bonny Grissel,
Full oft thou hast been fed with corn and hay,90
But now thou shalt be fed with bread and wine,
And thy sides shall be spurr'd no more, I say."

O then bespake his little son,
As he sat on his nurse's knee,
"If ever I live to be a man,95
My father's death reveng'd shall be."

---

JOHNIE ARMSTRANG.

From Ramsay's Evergreen, ii. 190.

Sum speiks of lords, sum speiks of lairds,
And sicklike men of hie degrie;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Sumtyme calld Laird of Gilnockie.

The King he wrytes a luving letter,5
With his ain hand sae tenderly,
And he hath sent it to Johny Armstrang,
To cum and speik with him speidily.

The Elliots and Armstrangs did convene,
They were a gallant company—10
"We'il ryde and meit our lawfull King,
And bring him safe to Gilnockie.

"Make kinnen and capon ready, then,
And venison in great plenty;
"We'il welcome hame our royal King;15
I hope he'il dyne at Gilnockie!"

They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,
And brake their speirs with mekle main;
The ladys lukit frae their loft windows—
"God bring our men weil back again!"20

When Johny came before the King,
With all his men so brave to see,
The King he movit his bonnet to him;
He wein'd he was a King as well as he.

"May I find grace, my sovereign liege,25
Grace for my loyal men and me?
For my name it is Johny Armstrang,
And subject of yours, my liege," said he.

"Away, away, thou traytor strang!
Out of my sicht sune mayst thou be!30
I grantit nevir a traytors lyfe,
And now I'll not begin with thee."

"Grant me my lyfe, my liege, my King!
And a bonny gift I will give to thee—
Full four-and-twenty milk-whyt steids,35
Were a' foald in a yeir to me.

"I'll gie thee all these milk-whyt steids,
That prance and nicher at a speir;
With as mekle gude Inglis gilt,
As four of their braid backs dow beir."40

"Away, away, thou traytor strang!
Out o' my sicht sune mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traytors lyfe,
And now I'll not begin with thee!"

"Grant me my lyfe, my liege, my King!45
And a bonny gift I'll gie to thee—
Gude four-and-twenty ganging mills,
That gang throw a' the yeir to me.

"These four-and-twenty mills complete
Sall gang for thee throw all the yeir;50
And as mekle of gude reid wheit,
As all thair happers dow to bear."

"Away, away, thou traytor strang!
Out o' my sicht sune mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traytors lyfe,55
And now I'll not begin with thee."

"Grant me my lyfe, my liege, my King!
And a great gift I'll gie to thee—
Bauld four-and-twenty sisters' sons,
Sall for thee fecht, tho all sould flee!"60

"Away, away, thou traytor strang!
Out o' my sicht sune mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traytors lyfe,
And now I'll not begin with thee."

"Grant me my lyfe, my liege, my King!65
And a brave gift I'll gie to thee—
All betwene heir and Newcastle town
Sall pay their yeirly rent to thee."

"Away, away, thou traytor strang!
Out o' my sicht sune mayst thou be!70
I grantit nevir a traytors lyfe,
And now I'll not begin with thee."

"Ye lied, ye lied, now, King," he says,
"Althocht a king and prince ye be!
For I luid naithing in all my lyfe,75
I dare well say it, but honesty—

"But a fat horse, and a fair woman,
Twa bonny dogs to kill a deir;
But Ingland suld haif found me meil and malt,
Gif I had livd this hundred yeir!80

"Scho suld haif found me meil and malt,
And beif and mutton in all plentie;
But neir a Scots wyfe could haif said,
That eir I skaithd her a pure flie.

"To seik het water beneth cauld yce,85
Surely it is a great folie;
I haif asked grace at a graceles face,
But there is nane for my men and me!

"But had I kend, or I came frae hame,
How thou unkind wadst bene to me,90
I wad haif kept the Border syde,
In spyte of all thy force and thee.

"Wist Englands King that I was tane,
O gin a blyth man wald he be!
For anes I slew his sisters son,95
And on his breist-bane brak a tree."

John wore a girdle about his midle,
Imbroidred owre with burning gold,
Bespangled wi' the same mettle
Maist beautifull was to behold.100

Ther hang nine targats at Johnys hat,
And ilka an worth three hundred pound—
"What wants that knave that a King suld haif,
But the sword of honour and the crown?

"O whair gat thou these targats, Johnie,105
That blink sae brawly abune thy brie?"
"I gat them in the field fechting,
Wher, cruel King, thou durst not be.

"Had I my horse, and harness gude,
And ryding as I wont to be,110
It sould haif bene tald this hundred yeir,
The meiting of my King and me!

"God be withee, Kirsty, my brither,
Lang live thou Laird of Mangertoun!
Lang mayst thou live on the Border syde,115
Or thou se thy brither ryde up and doun.

"And God be withee, Kirsty, my son,
Whair thou sits on thy nursees knee!
But and thou live this hundred yeir,
Thy fathers better thou'lt never be.120

Farweil, my bonny Gilnock-Hall,
Whair on Esk syde thou standest stout!
Gif I had leived but seven yeirs mair,
I wald haif gilt thee round about."

John murdred was at Carlinrigg,125
And all his galant companie;
But Scotlands heart was never sae wae,
To see sae mony brave men die.

Because they savd their country deir
Frae Englishmen: nane were sae bauld,130
Whyle Johnie livd on the Border syde,
Nane of them durst cum neir his hald.

17. Langum hown.30. thou mayst sune.

---

HUGHIE GRAHAM.

Of the two editions of this ballad which follow, the first is taken from The Scots Musical Museum (p. 312), to which it was contributed by Burns. Burns states that he obtained his copy from oral tradition in Ayrshire, but he had certainly retouched several stanzas (the ninth and tenth, says Cromek), and the third and eighth are entirely of his composition.

The other copy is from the Border Minstrelsy, and consists of a version "long current in Selkirkshire" (procured for Scott by Mr. William Laidlaw), which also has been slightly improved by the pen of the editor.

In the Appendix we have placed the story as it occurs in Durfey's Pills to purge Melancholy, and in Ritson's Ancient Songs. The seventeenth volume of the Percy Society Publications furnishes us with a Scottish version in which Sir Hugh is rescued and sent over the sea: Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 73. These, we believe, are all the published forms of this ballad, unless we mention Mr. Allan Cunningham's rÉchauffÉ of Burns, in his Songs of Scotland, i. 327.

"According to tradition," says Mr. Stenhouse, "Robert Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle, about the year 1560, seduced the wife of Hugh Graham, one of those bold and predatory chiefs who so long inhabited what was called the Debatable Land, on the English and Scottish border. Graham, being unable to bring so powerful a prelate to justice, in revenge made an excursion into Cumberland, and carried off inter alia, a fine mare belonging to the bishop (!) but being closely pursued by Sir John Scroope, warden of Carlisle, with a party on horseback, was apprehended near Solway Moss, and carried to Carlisle, where he was tried and convicted of felony. Great intercessions were made to save his life; but the bishop, it is said, being determined to remove the chief obstacle to his guilty passions, remained inexorable, and poor Graham fell a victim to his own indiscretion and his wife's infidelity. Anthony Wood observes that there were many changes in this prelate's time, both in church and state, but that he retained his offices and preferments during them all."—Musical Museum, iv. 297.

Our lords are to the mountains gane,
A hunting o' the fallow deer,
And they hae gripet Hughie Graham,
For stealing o' the Bishop's mare.

And they hae tied him hand and foot,5
And led him up thro' Stirling town;
The lads and lasses met him there,
Cried, "Hughie Graham, thou art a loun."

"O lowse my right hand free," he says,
"And put my braid sword in the same,10
He's no in Stirling town this day,
Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham."

Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,
As he sat by the bishop's knee,
"Five hundred white stots I'll gie you,15
If ye'll let Hughie Graham gae free."

"O haud your tongue," the bishop says,
"And wi' your pleading let me be;
For tho' ten Grahams were in his coat,
Hughie Graham this day shall die."20

Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,
As she sat by the bishop's knee;
"Five hundred white pence I'll gie you,
If ye'll gie Hughie Graham to me."

"O haud your tongue now, lady fair,25
And wi' your pleading let it be;
Altho' ten Grahams were in his coat,
It's for my honour he maun die."

They've taen him to the gallows knowe,
He looked to the gallows tree,30
Yet never colour left his cheek,
Nor ever did he blin' his e'e.

At length he looked round about,
To see whatever he could spy,
And there he saw his auld father,35
And he was weeping bitterly.

"O haud your tongue, my father dear.
And wi' your weeping let it be;
Thy weeping's sairer on my heart,40
Than a' that they can do to me.

"And ye may gie my brother John
My sword that's bent in the middle clear,
And let him come at twelve o'clock,
And see me pay the bishop's mare.

"And ye may gie my brother James45
My sword that's bent in the middle brown,
And bid him come at four o'clock,
And see his brother Hugh cut down.

"Remember me to Maggy, my wife,
The niest time ye gang o'er the moor;50
Tell her, she staw the bishop's mare,
Tell her, she was the bishop's whore.

"And ye may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood,
And when they meet the bishop's cloak,55
To mak it shorter by the hood."

---

HUGHIE THE GRÆME.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 110.

Gude Lord Scroope's to the hunting gane,
He has ridden o'er moss and muir;
And he has grippet Hughie the GrÆme,
For stealing o' the Bishop's mare.

"Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be!5
Here hangs a broadsword by my side;
And if that thou canst conquer me,
The matter it may soon be tryed."

"I ne'er was afraid of a traitor thief;
Although thy name be Hughie the GrÆme,10
"I'll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,
If God but grant me life and time."

"Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope,
And deal your blows as hard as you can;
It shall be tried within an hour,15
Which of us two is the better man."

But as they were dealing their blows so free,
And both so bloody at the time,
Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall,
All for to take brave Hughie the GrÆme.20

Then they hae grippit Hughie the GrÆme,
And brought him up through Carlisle town;
The lasses and lads stood on the walls,
Crying, "Hughie the GrÆme, thou'se ne'er gae down!"

Then they hae chosen a jury of men,25
The best that were in Carlisle town;
And twelve of them cried out at once,
"Hughie the GrÆme, thou must gae down!"

Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume,
As he sat by the judge's knee,30
"Twenty white owsen, my gude lord,
If you'll grant Hughie the GrÆme to me."

"O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume,
Forsooth and sae it mauna be;
For were there but three GrÆmes of the name,35
They suld be hanged a' for me."

'Twas up and spake the gude Lady Hume,
As she sat by the judge's knee,
"A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge,
If you'll grant Hughie the GrÆme to me."40

"O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,
Forsooth and so it must na be;
Were he but the one GrÆme of the name,
He suld be hanged high for me."

"If I be guilty," said Hughie the GrÆme,45
"Of me my friends shall have small talk;"
And he has louped fifteen feet and three,
Though his hands they were tied behind his back.

He looked over his left shoulder,
And for to see what he might see;50
There was he aware of his auld father,
Came tearing his hair most piteouslie.

"O hald your tongue, my father," he says,
"And see that ye dinna weep for me!
For they may ravish me o' my life,55
But they canna banish me fro' Heaven hie.

"Fair ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife!
The last time we came ower the muir,
'Twas thou bereft me of my life,
And wi' the Bishop thou play'd the whore.60

"Here, Johnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,
That is made o' the metal sae fine;
And when thou comest to the English side,
Remember the death of Hughie the GrÆme."

---

KINMONT WILLIE.

In the year 1596, Mr. Salkeld, the deputy of Lord Scroope, the English warden of the West Marches, and Robert Scott, the representative of the Laird of Buccleuch, then keeper of Liddesdale, held a meeting on the border line of the kingdoms, according to the custom of the times, for the purpose of arranging such differences, and redressing such grievances, as either party might have to allege. On these occasions a truce was always proclaimed, inviolable on pain of death, from the day of the meeting to the next day at sunrise. After the conference in question, as William Armstrong of Kinmonth, a notorious freebooter, whose ordinary style was Kinmont Willie, was returning to his home, accompanied by only three or four persons, he was pursued by a couple of hundred Englishmen, taken prisoner, and in contravention of the truce, lodged in the castle of Carlisle. The Laird of Buccleuch sought to obtain the enfranchisement of his client and retainer, through the mediation, first of the English warden, and then of the Scottish ambassador. Receiving no satisfaction, he took the matter into his own hands, raised a party of two hundred horse, surprised the castle of Carlisle, and carried off the prisoner by main force. This dashing achievement was performed on the 13th of April, 1596.

According to a rhymester who celebrated the daring feat of Buccleuch about a hundred years later, Kinmont Willie was a descendant of Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie.

Interesting details of the surprise of the castle, and further notices of Kinmont Willie are given by Scott in the Border Minstrelsy (ii. 32), where the ballad was first published.

"This ballad is preserved," says Scott, "on the West Borders, but much mangled by reciters, so that some conjectural emendations have been absolutely necessary to render it intelligible."

O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde?
O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroope?
How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie,
On Haribee to hang him up?

Had Willie had but twenty men,5
But twenty men as stout as he,
Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en,
Wi' eight score in his cumpanie.

They band his legs beneath the steed,
They tied his hands behind his back;10
They guarded him, fivesome on each side,
And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

They led him thro' the Liddel-rack,
And also thro' the Carlisle sands;
They brought him to Carlisle castell,15
To be at my Lord Scroope's commands.

"My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,
And whae will dare this deed avow?
Or answer by the Border law?
Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?"20

"Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver!
There's never a Scot shall set thee free:
Before ye cross my castle yate,
I trow ye shall take farewell o' me."

"Fear na ye that, my lord," quo' Willie:25
"By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope," he said,
"I never yet lodged in a hostelrie,
But I paid my lawing before I gaed."

Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,
In Branksome Ha' where that he lay,30
That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie,
Between the hours of night and day.

He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,
He garr'd the red wine spring on hie—
"Now Christ's curse on my head," he said,35
"But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be!

"O is my basnet a widow's curch?
Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?
Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly me!40

"And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Against the truce of Border tide,
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Is keeper here on the Scottish side?

"And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,45
Withouten either dread or fear,
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Can back a steed, or shake a spear?

"O were there war between the lands,
As well I wot that there is none,50
I would slight Carlisle castell high,
Though it were builded of marble stone.

"I would set that castell in a low,
And sloken it with English blood!
There's never a man in Cumberland,55
Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.

"But since nae war's between the lands,
And there is peace, and peace should be;
I'll neither harm English lad or lass,
And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!"60

He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,
I trow they were of his ain name,
Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'd
The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.

He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,65
Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;
With spur on heel, and splent on spauld,
And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.

There were five and five before them a',
Wi' hunting-horns and bugles bright:70
And five and five came wi' Buccleuch,
Like warden's men, array'd for fight.

And five and five, like a mason gang,
That carried the ladders lang and hie;
And five and five, like broken men;75
And so they reach'd the Woodhouselee.

And as we cross'd the Bateable Land,
When to the English side we held,
The first o' men that we met wi',
Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?80

"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?"
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"
"We go to hunt an English stag,
Has trespass'd on the Scots countrie."

"Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?"85
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell me true!"
"We go to catch a rank reiver,
Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch."

"Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads,
Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie?"90
"We gang to herry a corbie's nest,
That wons not far frae Woodhouselee."

"Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?"
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"
Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band,95
And the nevir a word of lear had he.

"Why trespass ye on the English side?
Row-footed outlaws, stand!" quo' he;
The nevir a word had Dickie to say,
Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.100

Then on we held for Carlisle toun,
And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we cross'd;
The water was great and meikle of spait,
But the nevir a horse nor man we lost.

And when we reach'd the Staneshaw-bank,105
The wind was rising loud and hie;
And there the Laird garr'd leave our steeds,
For fear that they should stamp and nie.

And when we left the Staneshaw-bank,
The wind began full loud to blaw;110
But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,
When we came beneath the castle wa'.

We crept on knees, and held our breath,
Till we placed the ladders against the wa';
And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell115
To mount the first before us a'.

He has ta'en the watchman by the throat,
He flung him down upon the lead—
"Had there not been peace between our lands,
Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!120

"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch;
"Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!"
Then loud the warden's trumpet blew—
O wha dare meddle wi' me?

Then speedilie to wark we gaed,125
And raised the slogan ane and a',
And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,
And so we wan to the castle ha'.

They thought King James and a' his men
Had won the house wi' bow and spear;130
It was but twenty Scots and ten,
That put a thousand in sic a stear!

Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers,
We garr'd the bars bang merrilie,
Until we came to the inner prison,135
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.

And when we cam to the lower prison,
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie—
"O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,
Upon the morn that thou's to die?"140

"O I sleep saft, and I wake aft,
It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me;
Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,
And a' gude fellows that spier for me."

Then Red Rowan has hente him up,145
The starkest man in Teviotdale—
"Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,
Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell.

"Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!
My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried—150
"I'll pay you for my lodging maill,
When first we meet on the Border side."

Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,
We bore him down the ladder lang;
At every stride Red Rowan made,155
I wot the Kinmont's airns play'd clang.

"O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
"I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan
I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.160

"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
"I've prick'd a horse out oure the furs;
But since the day I back'd a steed,
I never wore sic cumbrous spurs."

We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,165
When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,
And a thousand men on horse and foot
Cam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.

Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden Water,
Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim,170
And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,
And safely swam them through the stream.

He turn'd him on the other side,
And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he—
"If ye like na my visit in merry England,175
In fair Scotland come visit me!"

All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope,
He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,
When through the water they had gane.180

"He is either himsell a devil frae hell,
Or else his mother a witch maun be;
I wadna have ridden that wan water
For a' the gowd in Christentie."

4. Haribee is the place of execution at Carlisle.—S.13. The Liddel-rack is a ford on the Liddel.—S.76. A house on the Border, belonging to Buccleuch.—S.102. Eden has been substituted for Eske, the latter name being inconsistent with geography.—S.124. The name of a Border tune.—S.

---

DICK O' THE COW.

From Caw's Poetical Museum, p. 22.

The personage from whom this ballad is named was jester to Lord Scroop, who was warden of the West Marches of England from 1590 to 1603. The Laird's Jock, that is John, the son of the Laird of Mangerton, "appears as one of the men of name in Liddesdale, in the list of the Border Clans, 1597."

Dick o' the Cow is closely connected with Jock o' the Side and Hobie Noble, which follow shortly after. All three were first printed in Caw's Museum, and seem to have been contributed by a Mr. Elliot, a Liddesdale gentleman, to whom Sir W. Scott acknowledges many obligations. We are told that both Dick o' the Cow and Jock o' the Side were until lately so popular in Liddesdale with all classes of people, that they were invariably sung, from beginning to end, at every festive meeting.

The ballad of Dick o' the Cow was well known in England as early as 1596.

"An allusion to it likewise occurs in Parrot's Laquei Ridiculosi, or Springes for Woodcocks; London, 1613.

"Owenus wondreth since he came to Wales,
What the description of this isle should be,
That nere had seen but mountains, hills, and dales,
Yet would he boast, and stand on pedigree,
From Rice ap Richard, sprung from Dick a Cow,
Be cod, was right gud gentleman, look ye now!"

Epigr. 76.—Scott.

---

Now Liddisdale has lyan lang in,
There is nae riding there at a';
The horses are grown sae lidder fat,
They downa stur out o' the sta'.

Then Johnie Armstrong to Willie can say—5
"Billie, a riding then we'll gae;
England and us has been lang at a feid;
Ablins we'll hit on some bootie."

Then they're com'd on to Hutton Ha',
They rade the proper place about;10
But the laird he was the wiser man,
For he had left nae gear without.

Then he had left nae gear to steal,
Except sax sheep upon a lee:
Quo' Johnie—"I'd rather in England die,15
Ere thir sax sheep gae t' Liddisdale wi' me.

"But how ca'd they the man we last met,
Billie, as we cam o'er the know?"
"That same he is an innocent fool,
And some men ca' him Dick o' the Cow."20

"That fool has three as good ky o' his ain,
As there's in a' Cumberland, billie," quo' he:
"Betide me life, betide me death,
These three ky shall gae t' Liddisdale wi' me."

Then they're com'd on to the poor fool's house,25
And they hae broken his wa's sae wide;
They have loos'd out Dick o' the Cow's three ky,
And tane three co'erlets aff his wife's bed.

Then on the morn, whan the day was light,
The shouts and cries rose loud and hie:30
"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,
"And o' thy crying let me be!

"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,
"And of thy crying let me be;
And aye that where thou wants a cow,35
In good sooth I'll bring thee three."

Then Dickie's com'd on for's lord and master,
And I wat a dreirie fool was he;
"Now had thy tongue, my fool," he says,
"For I may not stand to jest wi' thee."40

"Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord!" quo' Dickie,
"For nae sic jesting grees wi' me;
Liddisdale's been i' my house last night,
And they hae tane my three ky frae me.

"But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,45
To be your poor fool and your leal,
Unless ye gi' me leave, my lord,
T' gae t' Liddisdale and steal."

"I gi' thee leave, my fool," he says;
"Thou speakest against my honour and me,50
Unless thou gi' me thy trowth and thy hand,
Thou'lt steal frae nane but wha sta' frae thee."

"There is my trowth, and my right hand!
My head shall hang on Hairibee,
I'll near cross Carlisle sands again,55
If I steal frae a man but wha sta' frae me."

Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,
And I wat a merry fool was he;
He's bought a bridle and a pair o' new spurs,
And pack'd them up in his breek thigh.60

Then Dickie's come on for Pudding-burn,
E'en as fast as he might drie;
Now Dickie's come on for Pudding-burn,
Where there were thirty Armstrongs and three.

"O what's this com'd o' me now?" quo' Dickie;65
"What meikle wae's this happen'd o' me? quo' he;
Where here is but ae innocent fool,
And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!"

Yet he's com'd up to the ha' amang them a',
Sae weil he's became his curtesie!70
"Weil may ye be, my good Laird's Jock!
But the de'il bless a' your companie.

"I'm come to 'plain o' your man, fair Johnie Armstrong,
And syne o' his billie Willie," quo' he;
"How they hae been i' my house the last night,75
And they hae tane my three ky frae me."

Quo' Johnie Armstrong, "We will him hang;"
"Na then," quo' Willie, "we'll him slae;"
But up and bespake anither young man,
"We'll gie 'im his batts, and let him gae."80

Then up and bespake the good Laird's Jock,
The best falla in a' the companie;
"Sit thy ways down a little while, Dickie,
And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gi' thee."

But Dickie's heart it grew sae great,85
That ne'er a bit o't he dought to eat;
Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,
Where a' the night he thought for to sleep.

Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,
Where a' the night he thought for to ly;90
And a' the prayers the poor fool pray'd,
"I wish I had amense for my ain three ky!"

Then it was the use of Pudding-burn,
And the house of Mangerton, all haill,
These that cam na at the first ca',95
They got nae mair meat t' the neist meal.

The lads, that hungry and weary were,
Aboon the door-head they hang the key;
Dickie he took good notice to that,
Says—"There's a bootie yonder for me."100

Then Dickie into the stable is gane,
Where there stood thirty horses and three;
He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,
A' these horses but barely three.

He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,105
A' these horses but barely three;
He's loupen on ane, tane anither in hand,
And out at the door and gane is Dickie.

Then on the morn, whan the day grew light,
The shouts and cries rose loud and hie—110
"O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock,
"Tell me the truth and the veritie!"

"O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock;
"See unto me ye dinna lie!"—
"Dickie's been i' the stable last night,115
And has my brother's horse and mine frae me."

"Ye wad ne'er be tall'd," quo' the good Laird's Jock;
"Have ye not found my tales fu' leel?
Ye wad ne'er out o' England bide,
Till crooked, and blind, and a' wad steal."120

"But lend me thy bay," Johnie Armstrong can say;
"There's nae horse loose in the stable but he;
And I'll either bring Dick o' the Cow again,
Or the day is come that he shall die."

"To lend thee my bay!" the Laird's Jock can say,125
"He's worth baith goud and good monie:
Dick o' the Cow has away twa horse:
I wish na thou may make him three."

He's tane the laird's jack on his back,
A twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;130
He's tane the steel cap on his head,
And on is he gane to follow Dickie.

Then Dickie was na a mile aff the town,
I wat a mile but barely three,
Till he's o'ertane by Johnie Armstrong,135
Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.

"Abide, abide now, Dickie, than,
The day is come that thou maun die;"
Then Dickie look'd o'er his left shoulder,
"Johnie, has thou any moe in companie?140

"There is a preacher in our chapel,
And a' the lee-lang day teaches he:
Whan day is gane and night is come,
There's ne'er ae word I mark but three.

"The first and second is—Faith and Conscience;
The third—Ne'er let a traitour free:146
But, Johnie, what faith and conscience hadst thou,
Whan thou took my three ky frae me?

"And when thou had tane away my three ky,
Thou thought in thy heart thou was no well sped,150
But sent thy billie Willie o'er the know,
And he took three co'erlets aff my wife's bed."

Then Johnie let a spear fa' laigh by his thigh,
Thought weil to hae slain the innocent, I trow;
But the powers above were mair than he,155
For he ran but the poor fool's jerkin through.

Together they ran, or ever they blan,
This was Dickie the fool and he;
Dickie coud na win to him wi' the blade o' the sword,
But feld 'im wi' the plumet under the eie.160

Now Dickie has feld fair Johnie Armstrong,
The prettiest man in the south countrie;
"Gramercy!" then can Dickie say,
"I had but twa horse, thou has made me three."

He has tane the laird's jack aff his back,165
The twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;
He has tane the steel cap aff his head—
"Johnie, I'll tell my master I met wi' thee."

When Johnie wakened out o' his dream,
I wat a drierie man was he:170
"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?
The shame gae in thy companie!

"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?
The shame gae in thy companie!
For if I should live this hundred years,175
I ne'er shall fight wi' a fool after thee."

Then Dickie's come hame to lord and master,
E'en as fast as he may drie;
"Now, Dickie, I'll neither eat nor drink,
Till hie hanged thou shalt be."180

"The shame speed the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;
"That was no the promise ye made to me!
For I'd ne'er gane t' Liddisdale t' steal,
Till I had got my leave at thee."

"But what gard thou steal the Laird's Jock's horse?185
And, limmer, what gard thou steal him?" quo' he;
"For lang might thou in Cumberland dwelt,
Ere the Laird's Jock had stawn frae thee."

"Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!
And e'en sae loud as I hear ye lie!190
I wan him frae his man, fair Johnie Armstrong,
Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.

"There's the jack was on his back,
This twa-handed sword that hang laigh by his thigh,
And there's the steel cap was on his head;195
I hae a' these takens to let thee see."

"If that be true thou to me tells,
(I trow thou dare na tell a lie,)
I'll gi' thee twenty punds for the good horse,
Weil tel'd in thy cloak lap shall be.200

"And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,
To maintain thy wife and children three;
And that may be as good, I think,
As ony twa o' thine might be."

"The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;205
"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?
I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,
Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."

He's gi'en him thirty punds for the good horse,
All in goud and good monie;210
He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,
To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie's came down through Carlisle town,
E'en as fast as he might drie:
The first o' men that he met with,215
Was my Lord's brother, Bayliff Glozenburrie.

"Weil may ye be, my gude Ralph Scroope!"—
"Welcome, my brother's fool!" quo' he:
"Where did thou get fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?"
"Where did I get him, but steal him," quo' he.220

"But wilt thou sell me fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?
And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?" quo' he:
"Aye, and tell me the monie on my cloak lap:
For there's no ae fardin I'll trust thee."

"I'll gi' thee fifteen punds for the good horse,225
Weil tel'd on thy cloak lap shall be;
And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,
To maintain thy wife and children three."

"The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;
"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?" quo' he;230
"I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,
Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."

He's gi'en him thirty punds for the gude horse,
All in goud and good monie;
He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,235
To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie lap a loup fu' hie,
And I wat a loud laugh laughed he—
"I wish the neck o' the third horse were broken,
For I hae a better o' my ain, if better can be."240

Then Dickie's com'd hame to his wife again,
Judge ye how the poor fool sped;
He has gi'en her three score English punds,
For the three auld co'erlets was tane aff her bed.

"Hae, tak thee these twa as good ky,245
I trow, as a' thy three might be;
And yet here is [a] white-footed nagie,
I think he'll carry baith thee and me.

"But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;
The Armstrongs they'll hang me hie:"—250
So Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,
And [at] Burgh under Stanmuir there dwells he.

54. The place of execution at Carlisle.—P. M.61. This was a house of strength held by the Armstrongs. The ruins at present form a sheep-fold on the farm of Reidsmoss, belonging to the Duke of Buccleuch.—S.94. The Laird of Mangerton was chief of the clan Armstrong—S.103. Hamstringing a horse is termed, in the Border dialect, tying him with St. Mary's knot. Dickie used this cruel expedient to prevent a pursuit. It appears from the narration, that the horses left unhurt, belonged to fair Johnie Armstrang, his brother Willie, and the Laird's Jock—of which Dickie carried off two, and left that of the Laird's Jock, probably out of gratitude for the protection he had afforded him on his arrival.—S.136. A rising-ground on Cannobie, on the borders of Liddesdale.—P. M.188. The commendation of the Laird's Jock's honesty seems but indifferently founded; for, in July, 1586, a bill was fouled against him, Dick of Dryup, and others, by the Deputy of Bewcastle, at a warden-meeting, for 400 head of cattle taken in open foray from the Drysike in Bewcastle: and in September, 1587, another complaint appears at the instance of one Andrew Rutlege of the Nook, against the Laird's Jock, and his accomplices, for 50 kine and oxen, besides furniture, to the amount of 100 merks sterling. See Bell's MSS., as quoted in the History of Cumberland and Westmoreland. In Sir Richard Maitland's poem against the thieves of Liddesdale, he thus commemorates the Laird's Jock:—

"They spuilye puir men of their pakis,
They leif them nocht on bed nor bakis:
Baith hen and cok,
With reil and rok,
The Lairdis Jock
All with him takis."—S.

JOCK O' THE SIDE.

From Caw's Poetical Museum, p. 145.

The rescue of a prisoner from the hands of justice was a very favourite subject with ballad-makers, and, it is to be feared, no uncommon event in the actual experience of the police of former days. We have in the fifth volume seen how such an affair was conducted by Robin Hood and his associates; and in Kinmont Willie have had an authenticated account of a remarkable exploit of this description at the close of the reign of Elizabeth. The two ballads which follow have this same theme; but only the authority of tradition. Jock o' the Side has one circumstance in common with Kinmont Willie—the daring passage of the river: with Archie of Ca'field it agrees throughout.

Jock o' the Side would seem to have been nephew to the Laird of Mangertoun (the chief of the clan Armstrong), and consequently cousin to the Laird's Jock. Scott suggests that he was probably brother to Christie of the Syde, mentioned in the list of Border clans, 1597. Both of these worthies receive special notice in Maitland's complaint Against the Thieves of Liddisdale.

Scott has pointed out that Jock o' the Side assisted the Earl of Westmoreland in his escape after his insurrection with the Earl of Northumberland, in the twelfth year of Elizabeth.

ARCHIE OF CA'FIELD.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 116.

This is substantially the same story as Jock o' the Side. Another version from Motherwell's collection, is subjoined.

"Ca'field, or Calfield," says Scott, "is a place in Wauchopdale, belonging of old to the Armstrongs. In the account betwixt the English and Scottish Marches, Jock and Geordie of Ca'field, then called Calf-hill, are repeatedly marked as delinquents. History of Westmoreland and Cumberland, vol. i. Introduction, p. 33."

BILLIE ARCHIE.

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 335.

A North-Country version of the preceding ballad. There is another copy in Buchan's larger collection, i. 111, The Three Brothers.

HOBIE NOBLE.

From Caw's Poetical Museum, p. 193.

"We have seen the hero of this ballad act a distinguished part in the deliverance of Jock o' the Side, and are now to learn the ungrateful return which the Armstrongs made him for his faithful services. Halbert, or Hobbie, Noble appears to have been one of those numerous English outlaws, who, being forced to fly their own country, had established themselves on the Scottish Borders. As Hobbie continued his depredations upon the English, they bribed some of his hosts, the Armstrongs, to decoy him into England under pretence of a predatory expedition. He was there delivered, by his treacherous companions, into the hands of the officers of justice, by whom he was conducted to Carlisle, and executed next morning. The Laird of Mangertoun, with whom Hobbie was in high favour, is said to have taken a severe revenge upon the traitors who betrayed him. The principal contriver of the scheme, called here Sim o' the Maynes, fled into England from the resentment of his chief; but experienced there the common fate of a traitor, being himself executed at Carlisle, about two months after Hobbie's death. Such is, at least, the tradition of Liddesdale. Sim o' the Maynes appears among the Armstrongs of Whitauch, in Liddesdale, in the list of Clans so often alluded to."—Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 90.

13. Kershope-burn, where Hobbie met his treacherous companions, falls into the Liddel, from the English side, at a place called Turnersholm, where, according to tradition, tourneys and games of chivalry were often solemnized.—S.15. The Mains was anciently a Border-keep, near Castletown, on the north side of the Liddel, but is now totally demolished.—S.38. For twa drifts of his sheep I gat.—P. M.39. Whitfield is explained by Mr. Ellis of Otterbourne to be a large and rather wild manorial district in the extreme southwest part of Northumberland; the proprietor of which might be naturally called the Lord, though not Earl of Whitfield. I suspect, however, that the reciters may have corrupted the great Ralph Whitfield into Earl of Whitfield. Sir Matthew Whitfield of Whitfield, was Sheriff of Northumberland in 1433, and the estate continued in the family from the reign of Richard II. till about fifty years since.—S.54. Askerton is an old castle, now ruinous, situated in the wilds of Cumberland, about seventeen miles north-east of Carlisle, amidst that mountainous and desolate tract of country bordering upon Liddesdale, emphatically termed the Waste of Bewcastle.—S.63-67. Willeva and Speir Edom are small districts in Bewcastledale, through which also the Hartlie-burn takes its course. Conscouthart-Green, and Rodrie-haugh, and the Foulbogshiel, are the names of places in the same wilds, through which the Scottish plunderers generally made their raids upon England.—S.79, 87. clock.105. A street in Carlisle.129. Of the Castle of Mangertoun, so often mentioned in these ballads, there are very few vestiges. It was situated on the banks of the Liddell, below Castletoun.—S.

JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 3.

"There is another ballad, under the same title as the following, in which nearly the same incidents are narrated, with little difference, except that the honour of rescuing the cattle is attributed to the Liddesdale Elliots, headed by a chief, there called Martin Elliot of the Preakin Tower, whose son, Simon, is said to have fallen in the action. It is very possible, that both the Teviotdale Scotts, and the Elliots, were engaged in the affair, and that each claimed the honour of the victory.

"The Editor presumes, that the Willie Scott, here mentioned, must have been a natural son of the Laird of Buccleuch."—S.

THE FRAY OF SUPORT.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 124.

"Of all the Border ditties which have fallen into the Editor's hands, this is by far the most uncouth and savage. It is usually chanted in a sort of wild recitative, except the burden, which swells into a long and varied howl, not unlike to a view hollo'. The words, and the very great irregularity of the stanza (if it deserves the name) sufficiently point out its intention and origin. An English woman, residing in Suport, near the foot of the Kers-hope, having been plundered in the night by a band of the Scottish moss-troopers, is supposed to convoke her servants and friends for the pursuit, or Hot Trod; upbraiding them, at the same time, in homely phrase, for their negligence and security. The Hot Trod was followed by the persons who had lost goods, with blood-hounds and horns, to raise the country to help. They also used to carry a burning wisp of straw at a spear head, and to raise a cry, similar to the Indian war-whoop. It appears, from articles made by the Wardens of the English Marches, September 12th, in 6th of Edward VI., that all, on this cry being raised, were obliged to follow the fray, or chase, under pain of death. With these explanations, the general purport of the ballad may be easily discovered, though particular passages have become inexplicable, probably through corruptions introduced by reciters. The present text is collected from four copies, which differed widely from each other."—S.

ROOKHOPE RYDE.

"A Bishopric Border song, composed in 1569, taken down from the chanting of George Collingwood the elder, late of Boltsburn, in the neighbourhood of Ryhope, who was interred at Stanhope, the 16th December, 1785.

"Rookhope is the name of a valley about five miles in length; at the termination of which, Rookhope burn empties itself into the river Wear, and is in the north part of the parish of Stanhope, in Weardale. Rookhope-head is the top of the vale."—Ritson.

The date of the event, says Sir W. Scott, is precisely ascertained to be (not 1569 but) the 6th of December, 1572, when the Tynedale robbers were encouraged to make a foray into Weardale in consequence of the confusion occasioned by the rebellion of Westmoreland and Northumberland.

From Ritson's Bishopric Garland (p. 54), with one or two slight verbal improvements from the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 101.

5. Thirlwall, or Thirlitwall, is said by Fordun, the Scottish historian, to be a name given to the Picts' or Roman wall, from its having been thirled, or perforated, in ancient times, by the Scots and Picts.

Willie-haver, or Willeva, is a small district or township in the parish of Lanercost, near Bewcastledale, in Cumberland, mentioned in the ballad of Hobie Noble.—Ritson.31. This would be about eleven o'clock, the usual dinner-hour in that period.—Ritson.43. The two Earls were Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Charles Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland, who, on the 15th of November, 1569, at the head of their tenantry and others, took arms for the purpose of liberating Mary, Queen of Scots, and restoring the old religion. They besieged Barnard castle, which was, for eleven days, stoutly defended by Sir George Bowes, who, afterward, being appointed the Queen's marshal, hanged the poor constables and peasantry by dozens in a day, to the amount of 800. The Earl of Northumberland, betrayed by the Scots, with whom he had taken refuge, was beheaded at York, on the 22d of August, 1572; and the Earl of Westmoreland, deprived of the ancient and noble patrimony of the Nevils, and reduced to beggary, escaped over sea, into Flanders, and died in misery and disgrace, being the last of his family.—Ritson. See The Rising in the North and Northumberland betrayed by Douglas.48. This is still the phraseology of Westmoreland: a poorly man, a softly day, and the like.—Ritson.52. The 6th of December.66. Now a straggling village so called; originally, it would seem, the gate-house, or ranger's lodge, at the east entrance of Stanhope-park. At some distance from this place is Westgate, so called for a similar reason.—Ritson.

The mention of the bailiff's house at the East-gate is (were such a proof wanting) strongly indicative of the authenticity of the ballad. The family of Emerson of East-gate, a fief, if I may so call it, held under the bishop, long exercised the office of bailiff of Wolsingham, the chief town and borough of Weardale, and of Forster, &c., under successive prelates.—Surtees.68. A place in the neighbourhood of East-gate, known at present, as well as the Dry-rig, or Smale-burns.—Ritson.92. The reciter, from his advanced age, could not recollect the original line thus imperfectly supplied.—Ritson.

THE RAID OF THE REIDSWIRE.

From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 15.

This ballad is preserved in the Bannatyne MS., and was first printed in Ramsay's Evergreen, ii. 224. Scott informs us that Ramsay took some liberties with the original text, and even interpolated the manuscript to favor his readings. A more accurate copy was given in the Border Minstrelsy. The text in Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 91, and Caw's Museum, p. 235, is that of the Evergreen.

"The skirmish of the Reidswire happened upon the 7th of June, 1575, at one of the meetings held by the Wardens of the Marches, for arrangements necessary upon the Border. Sir John Carmichael was the Scottish Warden, and Sir John Forster held that office on the English Middle March. In the course of the day, which was employed as usual in redressing wrongs, a bill, or indictment, at the instance of a Scottish complainer, was fouled (i. e. found a true bill) against one Farnstein, a notorious English freebooter. Forster alleged that he had fled from justice. Carmichael, considering this as a pretext to avoid making compensation for the felony, bade him "play fair!" to which the haughty English warden retorted, by some injurious expressions respecting Carmichael's family, and gave other open signs of resentment. His retinue, chiefly men of Redesdale and Tynedale, the most ferocious of the English Borderers, glad of any pretext for a quarrel, discharged a flight of arrows among the Scots. A warm conflict ensued, in which, Carmichael being beat down and made prisoner, success seemed at first to incline to the English side, till the Tynedale men, throwing themselves too greedily upon the plunder, fell into disorder; and a body of Jedburgh citizens arriving at that instant, the skirmish terminated in a complete victory on the part of the Scots, who took prisoners, the English warden, James Ogle, Cuthbert Collingwood, Francis Russell, son to the Earl of Bedford, and son-in-law to Forster, some of the Fenwicks, and several other Border chiefs. They were sent to the Earl of Morton, then Regent, who detained them at Dalkeith for some days, till the heat of their resentment was abated; which prudent precaution prevented a war betwixt the two kingdoms. He then dismissed them with great expressions of regard; and, to satisfy Queen Elizabeth, sent Carmichael to York, whence he was soon after honourably dismissed. The field of battle, called the Reidswire, is a part of the Carter Mountain, about ten miles from Jedburgh."—Scott.

THE DEATH OF PARCY REED.

Taken down from the recitation of an old woman, and first published (certainly not without what are called "improvements") in Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, vol. vii. p. 364, with an introduction by Mr. Robert White, which we here abridge.

Percival or Parcy Reed, was proprietor of Troughend, a tract of land in Redesdale, Northumberland, a man of courage and devoted to the chase. Having been appointed warden of the district, he had the misfortune in the discharge of his duties, to offend a family of the name of Hall, who were owners of the farm of Girsonsfield, and also to incur the enmity of a band of moss-troopers, Crosier by name, some of whom had been brought to justice by his hands. The Halls concealed their resentment until they were able to contrive an opportunity for taking a safe revenge. In pursuance of this design, they requested Reed to join them on a hunting party. Their invitation was unsuspiciously accepted, and after a day of sport the company retired to a solitary hut in the lonely glen of Batinghope. Here Reed was attacked in the evening by the Crosiers, and as the Halls not only refused their assistance, but had treacherously deprived him of the means of defence by rendering his sword and gun unserviceable, he fell an easy victim to his savage foes.

It is probable that we cannot assign to the event on which this piece is founded, a date later than the sixteenth century.

The story of Parcy Reed is alluded to in Rokeby, canto first, xx.; Sir Walter Scott has also taken the death of his dog Keeldar as the subject of a poem contributed to Hood's annual, The Gem, for 1829.

CAPTAIN CAR, OR, EDOM O' GORDON.

"This ballad is founded upon a real event, which took place in the north of Scotland in the year 1571, during the struggles between the party which held out for the imprisoned Queen Mary, and that which endeavoured to maintain the authority of her infant son, James VI. The person designated Edom o' Gordon was Adam Gordon of Auchindown, brother of the Marquis of Huntly, and his deputy as lieutenant of the north of Scotland for the Queen. This gentleman committed many acts of oppression on the clan Forbes, under colour of the Queen's authority, and in one collision with that family, killed Arthur, brother to Lord Forbes. He afterwards sent a party under one Captain Car, or Ker, to reduce the house of Towie, one of the chief seats of the name of Forbes. The proprietor of the mansion being from home, his lady, who was pregnant at the time, confiding too much in her sex and condition, not only refused to surrender, but gave Car some very opprobrious language over the walls, which irritated him so much that he set fire to the house, and burnt the whole inmates, amounting in all to thirty-seven persons. As Gordon never cashiered Car for this inhuman action, he was held by the public voice to be equally guilty, and accordingly [in one of the versions of the ballad] he is represented as the principal actor himself." (Chambers's Scottish Ballads, p. 67.) It appears that the Forbeses afterwards attempted to assassinate Adam Gordon in the streets of Paris. See more of this Captain Ker under The Battell of Balrinnes, in the next volume.

The ballad was first printed by the Foulises at Glasgow, 1755, under the title of Edom of Gordon, as taken down by Sir David Dalrymple from the recitation of a lady. It was inserted in the Reliques, (i. 122,) "improved and enlarged," (or, as Ritson more correctly expresses the fact, "interpolated and corrupted,") by several stanzas from a fragment in Percy's manuscript, called Captain Adam Carre. Ritson published the following genuine and ancient copy, (Ancient Songs, ii. 38,) from a collection in the Cotton Library. He states that his MS. had received numerous alterations or corrections, all or most of which, as being evidently for the better, he had adopted into the text. We have added a copy of Edom o' Gordon given in Ritson's Scottish Songs, and in the Appendix an inferior version of the story, called Loudoun Castle.

The names vary considerably in the different versions of this piece. The castle of Towie, or the house of Rothes, is here called the castle of Crecrynbroghe, in Percy's manuscript the castle of Brittonsborrow, and in the copy in the Appendix the locality is changed to Loudoun castle in Ayrshire. In like manner, Alexander Forbes is here turned into Lord Hamleton, and Captain Car is now called the lord of Easter-town and again the lord of Westerton-town.

In the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xci. Part 1, p. 451, will be found a modern ballad styled Adam Gordon, founded on the adventure of the freebooter of that name with Edward the First. Another on the same subject is given in Evans's Old Ballads, iv. 86.

84, thee.

EDOM O' GORDON.

From Ritson's Scottish Songs, ii. 17. We presume this is the ballad printed by the Foulises.

WILLIE MACKINTOSH, OR, THE BURNING OF AUCHINDOWN.

These fragments appear to relate to the burning of Auchindown, a castle belonging to the Gordons, in vengeance for the death of William Mackintosh of the clan Chattan, which is said to have occurred at the castle of the Earl of Huntly. The event is placed in the year 1592. After the Mackintoshes had executed their revenge, they were pursued by the Gordons, and overtaken in the Stapler, where "sixty of the clan Chattan were killed, and Willie Mackintosh, their leader, wounded." So says the not very trustworthy editor of the Thistle of Scotland.

Another fragment of four stanzas (containing nothing additional), is given by Whitelaw, Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 248.

I.
From Finlay's Scottish Ballads, ii. 97.

II.
From The Thistle of Scotland, p. 106.

LORD MAXWELL'S GOODNIGHT.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 199.

"A. D. 1585, John Lord Maxwell, or, as he styled himself, Earl of Morton, having quarrelled with the Earl of Arran, reigning favourite of James VI., and fallen, of course, under the displeasure of the court, was denounced rebel. A commission was also given to the Laird of Johnstone, then Warden of the West Marches, to pursue and apprehend the ancient rival and enemy of his house. Two bands of mercenaries, commanded by Captains Cranstoun and Lammie, who were sent from Edinburgh to support Johnstone, were attacked and cut to pieces at Crawford-muir, by Robert Maxwell, natural brother to the chieftain; who, following up his advantage, burned Johnstone's Castle of Lochwood, observing, with savage glee, that he would give Lady Johnstone light enough by which 'to set her hood.' In a subsequent conflict, Johnstone himself was defeated, and made prisoner, and is said to have died of grief at the disgrace which he sustained.

"By one of the revolutions, common in those days, Maxwell was soon after restored to the King's favour in his turn, and obtained the wardenry of the West Marches. A bond of alliance was subscribed by him, and by Sir James Johnstone, and for some time the two clans lived in harmony. In the year 1593, however, the hereditary feud was revived on the following occasion. A band of marauders, of the clan Johnstone, drove a prey of cattle from the lands belonging to the Lairds of Crichton, Sanquhar, and Drumlanrig; and defeated, with slaughter, the pursuers, who attempted to rescue their property.—[See The Lads of Wamphray, post, p. 168.] The injured parties, being apprehensive that Maxwell would not cordially embrace their cause, on account of his late reconciliation with the Johnstones, endeavoured to overcome his reluctance, by offering to enter into bonds of manrent, and so to become his followers and liegemen; he, on the other hand, granting to them a bond of maintenance, or protection, by which he bound himself, in usual form, to maintain their quarrel against all mortals, saving his loyalty. Thus, the most powerful and respectable families in Dumfriesshire, became, for a time, the vassals of Lord Maxwell. This secret alliance was discovered to Sir James Johnstone by the Laird of Cummertrees, one of his own clan, though a retainer to Maxwell. Cummertrees even contrived to possess himself of the bonds of manrent, which he delivered to his chief. The petty warfare betwixt the rival barons was instantly renewed. Buccleuch, a near relation of Johnstone, came to his assistance with his clan, 'the most renowned freebooters, [says a historian,] the fiercest and bravest warriors among the Border tribes.' With Buccleuch also came the Elliots, Armstrongs, and GrÆmes. Thus reinforced, Johnstone surprised and cut to pieces a party of the Maxwells, stationed at Lochmaben. On the other hand, Lord Maxwell, armed with the royal authority, and numbering among his followers all the barons of Nithsdale, displayed his banner as the King's lieutenant, and invaded Annandale at the head of two thousand men. In those days, however, the royal auspices seem to have carried as little good fortune as effective strength with them. A desperate conflict, still renowned in tradition, took place at the Dryffe Sands, not far from Lockerby, in which Johnstone, although inferior in numbers, partly by his own conduct, partly by the valour of his allies, gained a decisive victory. Lord Maxwell, a tall man, and heavily armed, was struck from his horse in the flight, and cruelly slain, after the hand, which he stretched out for quarter, had been severed from his body. Many of his followers were slain in the battle, and many cruelly wounded, especially by slashes in the face, which wound was thence termed a 'Lockerby lick.' The Barons of Lag, Closeburn, and Drumlanrig, escaped by the fleetness of their horses; a circumstance alluded to in the following ballad.

"John, Lord Maxwell, with whose 'Goodnight' the reader is here presented, was son to him who fell at the battle of Dryffe Sands, and is said to have early avowed the deepest revenge for his father's death. Such, indeed, was the fiery and untameable spirit of the man, that neither the threats nor entreaties of the King himself could make him lay aside his vindictive purpose; although Johnstone, the object of his resentment, had not only reconciled himself to the court, but even obtained the wardenry of the Middle Marches, in room of Sir John Carmichael, murdered by the Armstrongs. Lord Maxwell was therefore prohibited to approach the Border counties; and having, in contempt of that mandate, excited new disturbances, he was confined in the castle of Edinburgh. From this fortress, however, he contrived to make his escape; and, having repaired to Dumfriesshire, he sought an amicable interview with Johnstone, under a pretence of a wish to accommodate their differences. Sir Robert Maxwell, of Orchardstane, (mentioned in the ballad, verse 1,) who was married to a sister of Sir James Johnstone, persuaded his brother-in-law to accede to Maxwell's proposal."

So far Sir Walter Scott. The meeting took place on the 6th of April, 1608, in the presence of Sir Robert Maxwell, each party being accompanied by a single follower. While the chieftains were conferring together, Charles Maxwell, the attendant of Lord John, maliciously began an altercation with the servant of Johnstone, and shot him with a pistol, and Sir James, looking round at the report, was himself shot by Lord Maxwell in the back with two poisoned bullets.

The murderer escaped to France, but afterwards venturing to return to Scotland, was apprehended, brought to trial at Edinburgh, and beheaded on the 21st of May, 1613. We may naturally suppose that the Goodnight was composed shortly after Lord Maxwell fled across the seas, certainly before 1613.

This ballad was first printed in the Border Minstrelsy "from a copy in Glenriddel's MSS., with some slight variations from tradition."

THE LADS OF WAMPHRAY

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 148.

"The reader will find, prefixed to the foregoing ballad, an account of the noted feud betwixt the families of Maxwell and Johnstone. The following song celebrates the skirmish, in 1593, betwixt the Johnstones and Crichtons, which led to the revival of the ancient quarrel betwixt Johnstone and Maxwell, and finally to the battle of Dryffe Sands, in which the latter lost his life. Wamphray is the name of a parish in Annandale. Lethenhall was the abode of Johnstone of Wamphray, and continued to be so till of late years. William Johnstone of Wamphray, called the Galliard, was a noted freebooter. A place, near the head of Teviotdale, retains the name of the Galliard's Faulds, (folds,) being a valley, where he used to secrete and divide his spoil, with his Liddesdale and Eskdale associates. His nom de guerre seems to have been derived from the dance called the Galliard. The word is still used in Scotland, to express an active, gay, dissipated character. Willie of the Kirkhill, nephew to the Galliard, and his avenger, was also a noted Border robber. Previous to the battle of Dryffe Sands, so often mentioned, tradition reports, that Maxwell had offered a ten-pound-land to any of his party, who should bring him the head or hand of the Laird of Johnstone. This being reported to his antagonist, he answered, he had not a ten-pound-land to offer, but would give a five-merk-land to the man who should that day cut off the head or hand of Lord Maxwell. Willie of the Kirkhill, mounted upon a young grey horse, rushed upon the enemy, and earned the reward, by striking down their unfortunate chieftain, and cutting off his right hand."—Scott.

THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT.

From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 161.

"A mortal feud having arisen between the Laird of Frendraught [Sir James Chrichton] and the Laird of Rothiemay [William Gordon], both gentlemen of Banffshire, a rencontre took place, at which the retainers of both were present, on the 1st of January, 1630; when Rothiemay was killed, and several persons hurt on both sides. To stanch this bloody quarrel, the Marquis of Huntly, who was chief to both parties, and who had therefore a right to act as arbiter between them, ordered Frendraught to pay fifty thousand merks to Rothiemay's widow. In the ensuing September, Frendraught fell into another quarrel, in the course of which James Lesly, son to Lesly of Pitcaple, was shot through the arm. Soon after the last incident, Frendraught, having paid a visit to the Marquis of Huntly at the Bog of Gight, the Laird of Pitcaple came up with thirty armed men, to demand atonement for the wound of his son. Huntly acted in this case with great discretion. Without permitting the two lairds to come to a conference, he endeavored to persuade the complaining party that Frendraught was in reality innocent of his son's wound; and, as Pitcaple went away vowing vengeance, he sent Frendraught home under a strong escort, which was commanded by his son, the Viscount Aboyne, and by the young Laird of Rothiemay, son to him whom Frendraught had killed some months before. The party reached Frendraught Castle without being attacked by Pitcaple; when, Aboyne and Rothiemay offering to take leave of Frendraught and his lady, in order to return home, they were earnestly entreated by these individuals to remain a night, and postpone their return till to-morrow. Being with difficulty prevailed upon, the young Viscount and Rothiemay were well entertained, and after supper went cheerfully to bed. To continue the narrative in the words of Spalding—"The Viscount was laid in an bed in the Old Tower going off the hall, and standing upon a vault, wherein there was ane round hole, devised of old, just under Aboyne's bed. Robert Gordon, his servitor, and English Will, his page, were both laid in the same chamber. The Laird of Rothiemay, with some servants beside him, was laid in another chamber just above Aboyne's chamber; and in another room above that chamber, were laid George Chalmers of Noth, and George Gordon, another of the Viscount's servants; with them also was laid Captain Rolloch, then in Frendraught's own company. All being thus at rest, about midnight that dolorous tower took fire in so sudden and furious a manner, yea, and in ane clap, that the noble Viscount, the Laird of Rothiemay, English Will, Colonel Wat, another of Aboyne's servants, and other two, being six in number, were cruelly burnt and tormented to the death, without help or relief; the Laird of Frendraught, his lady, and haill household looking on, without moving or stirring to deliver them from the fury of this fearful fire, as was reported. Robert Gordon, called Sutherland Gordon, being in the Viscount's chamber, escaped this fire with the life. George Chalmers and Captain Rolloch, being in the third room, escaped this fire also, and, as was said, Aboyne might have saved himself also if he would have gone out of doors, which he would not do, but suddenly ran up stairs to Rothiemay's chamber, and wakened him to rise; and as he is awakening him, the timber passage and lofting of the chamber hastily takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again; so they turned to a window looking to the close, where they piteously cried many times, "Help! help! for God's cause!" The Laird and Lady, with their servants, all seeing and hearing the woeful crying, made no help or manner of helping; which they perceiving, cried oftentimes mercy at God's hands for their sins; syne clasped in each other's arms, and cheerfully suffered their martyrdom. Thus died this noble Viscount, of singular expectation, Rothiemay, a brave youth, and the rest, by this doleful fire, never enough to be deplored, to the great grief and sorrow of their kin, parents, and hail common people, especially to the noble Marquis, who for his good will got this reward. No man can express the dolour of him and his lady, nor yet the grief of the Viscount's own dear lady, when it came to her ears, which she kept to her dying day, disdaining after the company of men all her life-time, following the love of the turtle dove.

'It is reported that upon the morn after this woeful fire, the Lady Frendraught, daughter to the Earl of Sutherland, and near cousin to the Marquis, backed in a white plaid, and riding on a small nag, having a boy leading her horse, without any more in her company, in this pitiful manner she came weeping and mourning to the Bog, desiring entry to speak with my lord; but this was refused; so she returned back to her own house, the same gate she came, comfortless.'—Spalding's History of the Troubles in Scotland.

"Suspicion formed two theories regarding the cause of the fire of Frendraught. The first was, that the Laird had wilfully set fire to the tower, for the purpose of destroying the young Laird of Rothiemay. The other was, that it originated in the revengeful feelings of the Laird of Pitcaple. In the first theory there is extremely little probability. First, it could not have been premeditated; because the circumstance of Frendraught being accompanied home that day by Aboyne and Rothiemay, was entirely accidental. In the second place, there was no reason for Frendraught being inclined to murder Rothiemay, except that he grudged the payment of the fifty thousand merks to his mother; while there was every reason for his being inclined rather to befriend a youth whom he had already injured by occasioning the death of his father. In the third place, all Frendraught's family papers, with much gold and silver, both in money and plate, were consumed in the fire. And, in the fourth place, it is extremely improbable that any man of his rank should commit so deliberate and so atrocious an act of villainy. On the other hand, it seems by no means improbable that Pitcaple should have caused fire to be set to his enemy's house; a mode of reprisal which had been practised in the same district of country, as we have already seen, by a gentleman of only the preceding age. Pitcaple's men, moreover, had been heard to declare an intention of attempting some such enterprise against Frendraught; as was proved on the trial of a gentleman of the name of Meldrum, who was apprehended, condemned, and executed, for his alleged accession to their conspiracy."—Chambers's Scottish Ballads, p. 85.

This ballad was first printed in the North Countrie Garland, p. 4, and afterwards with a few slight corrections in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, having in both cases been furnished by Mr. C. K. Sharpe. The tragic story was celebrated by one Arthur Johnston, a contemporary scholar, in two Latin poems, the one entitled, Querela SophiÆ Hay, dominÆ de Melgeine, de morte mariti, and the other, De Johanne Gordonio, Vicecomite de Melgeine, el Johanne Gordonio de Rothemay, in arce Frendriaca combustis (Finlay, i. 67). In Herd's Collection (i. 199) is a modern piece on the subject called Frennet Hall, in the detestable style of the last century. This very feeble production is also to be found in Ritson's Scottish Songs (ii. 31), Johnson's Museum, and elsewhere. But Ritson gives these few stanzas of an excellent old ballad, as remembered by the Rev. Mr. Boyd, the translator of Dante:

THE BONNIE HOUSE O' AIRLY.

Finlay's Scottish Ballads, ii. 31.

The Earl of Airly, a nobleman zealously attached to the cause of King Charles, withdrew from Scotland in order to avoid subscribing the Covenant, leaving his eldest son Lord Ogilvie at home. The Committee of Estates, hearing that Airly had fled the country, directed the Earls of Montrose and Kinghorn to take possession of his castle, but in this, owing to the exceeding strength of the place, they did not succeed. Subsequently the Earl of Argyle, a personal enemy of the Earl of Airly, was charged with the same commission, and raised an army of five thousand men to carry out his trust. Lord Ogilvie was unable to hold out against such a force, and abandoned his father's stronghold, which, as well as his own residence of Forthar, was plundered and utterly destroyed by Argyle. Lady Ogilvie is said to have been pregnant at the time of the burning of Forthar, and to have undergone considerable danger before she could find proper refuge. She never had, however, more than one son, though she is endowed with no fewer than ten by the ballads. According to one account, the event here celebrated took place in 1639; another assigns it to 1640. (Napier's Montrose and the Covenanters, i. 533.)

The Bonnie House of Airly was first printed in Finlay's Scottish Ballads. Other copies are given in Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 225; Smith's Scottish Minstrel, ii. 2; Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 152; Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 59; and Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 104.

A modern attempt on the same theme may be seen in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, ii. 411. Allan Cunningham, misled by the Ogilvies' continuing to the Pretender the devotion they exhibited to the Royal Martyr and his son, has transferred the burning of Airly to the 18th century. See his Young Airly, in Cromek's Remains, p. 196, and, rewritten, in The Songs of Scotland, iii. 218.

THE BONNIE HOUSE OF AIRLY.

From Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 59.

THE BARON OF BRACKLEY.

First published as follows in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, i. 102. The copy used was derived from Mrs. Brown, and collated with a fragment taken down by Scott from the recitation of two of the descendants of Inverey. Buchan has given a different version in his Gleanings, which is annexed to the present. "This ballad," says Chambers, "records an unfortunate rencontre, which took place on the 16th of September, 1666, between John Gordon of Brackley, commonly called the Baron of Brackley, (in Aberdeenshire,) and Farquharson of Inverey, a noted freebooter, who dwelt on Dee-side. The former gentleman, who is yet remembered by tradition as a person of the most amiable and respectable character, had contrived to offend Farquharson, by pounding some horses belonging to his (Farquharson's) followers, which had either strayed into the Brackley grounds, or become forfeited on account of some petty delinquencies committed by their proprietors. Farquharson was a man of violent habits and passions; he is yet remembered by the epithet Fuddie, descriptive of his hurried, impatient gait; and it is said that, having been in league with the powers of darkness, he was buried on the north side of a hill, where the sun never shone. On account of the miraculous expedition with which he could sweep the cattle away from a fertile district, Deil scoup wi' Fuddie! is still a popular proverb, implying that the devil could alone keep his own part with him. This singular marauder, it appears, from authentic information, wished at first to argue the point at issue with the Baron of Brackley; but in the course of the altercation some expression from one of the parties occasioned a mutual discharge of fire-arms, by which Brackley and three of his followers fell. An attempt was made by the baron's friends to bring Fuddie to justice; but the case seems to have been justly considered one of chance medley, and the accused party was soon restored to society."—The Scottish Ballads, p. 147.