Chapter IV: Book VI: The Lochmaben Harper (3)

Then Hobie has graith'd his body weel,
I wat it was wi' baith good iron and steel;
And he has pull'd out his fringed grey,
And there, brave Noble, he rade him weel. 20

Then Hobie is down the water gane,
E'en as fast as he may drie;
Tho' they shoud a' brusten and broken their hearts,
Frae that tryst Noble he would not be.

"Weel may ye be, my feiries five! 25
And aye, what is your wills wi' me?"
Then they cry'd a' wi' ae consent,
"Thou'rt welcome here, brave Noble, to me.

"Wilt thou with us in England ride,
And thy safe warrand we will be? 30
If we get a horse worth a hundred punds,
Upon his back that thou shalt be."

"I dare not with you into England ride,
The Land-sergeant has me at feid;
I know not what evil may betide, 35
For Peter of Whitfield, his brother, is dead.

"And Anton Shiel, he loves not me,
For I gat twa drifts of his sheep;[L38]
The great Earl of Whitfield loves me not,[L39]
For nae gear frae me he e'er could keep. 40

"But will ye stay till the day gae down,
Until the night come o'er the grund,
And I'll be a guide worth ony twa
That may in Liddisdale be fund.

"Tho' dark the night as pick and tar, 45
I'll guide ye o'er yon hills fu' hie,
And bring ye a' in safety back,
If you'll be true and follow me."

He's guided them o'er moss and muir,
O'er hill and houp, and mony a down; 50
Til they came to the Foulbogshiel,
And there, brave Noble, he lighted down.

Then word is gane to the Land-sergeant,
In Askirton where that he lay--[L54]
"The deer that ye hae hunted lang 55
Is seen into the Waste this day."

"Then Hobie Noble is that deer!
I wat he carries the style fu' hie;
Aft has he beat your slough-hounds back,
And set yourselves at little lee. 60

"Gar warn the bows of Hartlie-burn,
See they shaft their arrows on the wa'!
Warn Willeva, and Spear Edom,[L63]
And see the morn they meet me a'.

"Gar meet me on the Rodrie-haugh, 65
And see it be by break o' day;
And we will on to Conscowthart-Green,
For there, I think, we'll get our prey."

Then Hobie Noble has dream'd a dream,
In the Foulbogsheil where that he lay; 70
He thought his horse was 'neath him shot,
And he himself got hard away.

The cocks could crow, and the day could dawn,
And I wat so even down fell the rain;
If Hobie had no waken'd at that time, 75
In the Foulbogshiel he had been tane or slain.

"Get up, get up, my feiries five!
For I wat here makes a fu' ill day;
And the warst cloak of this companie,[L79]
I hope shall cross the Waste this day." 80

Now Hobie thought the gates were clear;
But, ever alas! it was not sae:
They were beset wi' cruel men and keen,
That away brave Noble could not gae.

"Yet follow me, my feiries five, 85
And see of me ye keep good ray;
And the worst cloak of this companie[L87]
I hope shall cross the Waste this day."

There was heaps of men now Hobie before,
And other heaps was him behind, 90
That had he been as wight as Wallace was,
Away brave Noble he could not win.

Then Hobie he had but a laddies sword,
But he did more than a laddies deed;
In the midst of Conscouthart-Green, 95
He brake it o'er Jersawigham's head.

Now they have tane brave Hobie Noble,
Wi' his ain bowstring they band him sae;
And I wat heart was ne'er sae sair,
As when his ain five band him on the brae. 100

They have tane him for West Carlisle;
They ask'd him if he knew the way;
Whate'er he thought, yet little he said;
He knew the way as well as they.

They hae tane him up the Ricker-gate;[L105] 105
The wives they cast their windows wide,
And ilka wife to anither can say,
"That's the man loos'd Jock o' the Side!"

"Fy on ye, women! why ca' ye me man?
For it's nae man that I'm used like; 110
I'm but like a forfoughen hound,
Has been fighting in a dirty syke."

Then they hae tane him up thro' Carlisle town,
And set him by the chimney fire;
They gave brave Noble a wheat loaf to eat, 115
And that was little his desire.

Then they gave him a wheat loaf to eat
And after that a can o' beer;
Then they cried a', wi' ae consent,
"Eat, brave Noble, and make good cheer. 120

"Confess my lord's horse, Hobie," they say,
"And the morn in Carlisle thou's no die;"
"How shall I confess them?" Hobie says,
"For I never saw them with mine eye."

Then Hobie has sworn a fu' great aith-- 125
By the day that he was gotten or born,
He never had onything o' my lord's,
That either eat him grass or corn.

"Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton![L129]
For I think again I'll ne'er thee see: 130
I wad betray nae lad alive,
For a' the goud in Christentie.

"And fare thee weel, now Liddisdale,
Baith the hie land and the law!
Keep ye weel frae traitor Mains! 135
For goud and gear he'll sell ye a'.

"I'd rather be ca'd Hobie Noble,
In Carlisle, where he suffers for his faut,
Before I were ca'd traitor Mains,
That eats and drinks of meal and maut." 140

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.

It fell about the Martinmas tyde,
When our Border steeds get corn and hay,
The Captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to ryde,
And he's ower to Tividale to drive a prey.

The first ae guide that they met wi', 5
It was high up in Hardhaughswire;[L6]
The second guide that they met wi',
It was laigh down in Borthwick water.

"What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?"
"Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee; 10
But gin ye'll gae to the fair Dodhead,[L11]
Mony a cow's cauf I'll let thee see."

And when they cam to the fair Dodhead,
Right hastily they clam the peel;
They loosed the kye out, ane and a', 15
And ranshackled the house right weel.

Now Jamie Telfer's heart was sair,
The tear aye rowing in his ee;
He pled wi' the Captain to hae his gear,
Or else revenged he wad be. 20

The Captain turned him round and leugh;
Said--"Man, there's naething in thy house,
But ae auld sword without a sheath,
That hardly now would fell a mouse."

The sun wasna up, but the moon was down, 25
It was the gryming of a new-fa'n snaw,
Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot,
Between the Dodhead and the Stobs's Ha'.[L28]

And when he cam to the fair tower yate,
He shouted loud, and cried weel hie, 30
Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot--
"Whae's this that brings the fraye to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer, o' the fair Dodhead,
And a harried man I think I be;
There's naething left at the fair Dodhead, 35
But a waefu' wife and bairnies three."

"Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha',[L37]
For succour ye'se get nane frae me;
Gae seek your succour where ye paid black-mail,
For, man, ye ne'er paid money to me." 40

Jamie has turned him round about,
I wat the tear blinded his ee--
"I'll ne'er pay mail to Elliot again,
And the fair Dodhead I'll never see!

"My hounds may a' rin masterless,[L45] 45
My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,
My lord may grip my vassal lands,
For there again maun I never be!"

He has turn'd him to the Tiviot side,
E'en as fast as he could drie, 50
Till he cam to the Coultart Cleugh,[L51]
And there he shouted baith loud and hie.

Then up bespak him auld Jock Grieve--
"Whae's this that brings the fraye to me?"
"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, 55
A harried man I trow I be.

"There's naething left in the fair Dodhead,
But a greeting wife and bairnies three,
And sax poor ca's stand in the sta', 60
A' routing loud for their minnie."

"Alack a wae!" quo' auld Jock Grieve,
"Alack, my heart is sair for thee!
For I was married on the elder sister,
And you on the youngest of a' the three."

Then he has ta'en out a bonny black, 65
Was right weel fed with corn and hay,
And he's set Jamie Telfer on his back,
To the Catslockhill to tak the fraye.

And whan he cam to the Catslockhill,
He shouted loud, and cried weel hie, 70
Till out and spak him William's Wat--
"O whae's this brings the fraye to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer of the fair Dodhead,
A harried man I think I be;
The Captain of Bewcastle has driven my gear; 75
For God's sake rise, and succour me!"

"Alas for wae!" quoth William's Wat,
"Alack, for thee my heart is sair!
I never cam by the fair Dodhead,
That ever I fand thy basket bare." 80

He's set his twa sons on coal-black steeds,
Himsell upon a freckled gray,
And they are on wi' Jamie Telfer,
To Branksome Ha' to tak the fraye.

And when they cam to Branksome Ha', 85
They shouted a' baith loud and hie,
Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch,
Said--"Whae's this brings the fraye to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead,
And a harried man I think I be; 90
There's nought left in the fair Dodhead,
But a greeting wife and bairnies three."

"Alack for wae!" quoth the gude auld lord,
"And ever my heart is wae for thee!
But fye, gar cry on Willie, my son, 95
And see that he come to me speedilie.

"Gar warn the water, braid and wide,[L97]
Gar warn it sune and hastilie;
They that winna ride for Telfer's kye,
Let them never look in the face o' me! 100

"Warn Wat o' Harden, and his sons,[L101]
Wi' them will Borthwick Water ride;
Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh,
And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside.

"Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire,[L105] 105
And warn the Currors o' the Lee;
As ye cum down the Hermitage Slack,
Warn doughty Willie o' Gorrinberry."

The Scotts they rade, the Scotts they ran,
Sae starkly and sae steadilie, 110
And aye the ower-word o' the thrang
Was--"Rise for Branksome readilie!"

The gear was driven the Frostylee up,[L113]
Frae the Frostylee unto the plain,
Whan Willie has look'd his men before, 115
And saw the kye right fast drivand.

"Whae drives thir kye?" gan Willie say,
"To make an outspeckle o' me?"
"It's I, the Captain o' Bewcastle, Willie;
I winna layne my name for thee." 120

"O will ye let Telfer's kye gae back?
Or will ye do aught for regard o' me?
Or, by the faith of my body," quo' Willie Scott,
"I'se ware my dame's cauf skin on thee."

"I winna let the kye gae back, 125
Neither for thy love, nor yet thy fear;
But I will drive Jamie Telfer's kye,
In spite of every Scott that's here."

"Set on them, lads!" quo' Willie than;
"Fye, lads, set on them cruellie! 130
For ere they win to the Ritterford,
Mony a toom saddle there sall be!"

Then til't they gaed, wi' heart and hand,
The blows fell thick as bickering hail;
And mony a horse ran masterless, 135
And mony a comely cheek was pale.

But Willie was stricken ower the head,
And thro' the knapscap the sword has gane;
And Harden grat for very rage,
Whan Willie on the grund lay slane. 140

But he's ta'en aff his gude steel cap,
And thrice he's waved it in the air;
The Dinlay snaw was ne'er mair white[L143]
Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair.

"Revenge! revenge!" auld Wat 'gan cry; 145
"Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!
We'll ne'er see Tiviotside again,
Or Willie's death revenged sall be."

O mony a horse ran masterless,
The splinter'd lances flew on hie; 150
But or they wan ta the Kershope ford,
The Scotts had gotten the victory.

John o' Brigham there was slane,[L153]
And John o' Barlow, as I heard say;
And thirty mae o' the Captain's men 155
Lay bleeding on the grund that day.

The Captain was run through the thick of the thigh,
And broken was his right leg bane;
If he had lived this hundred years,
He had never been loved by woman again. 160

"Hae back the kye!" the Captain said;
"Dear kye, I trow, to some they be;
For gin I suld live a hundred years,
There will ne'er fair lady smile on me."

Then word is gane to the Captain's bride, 165
Even in the bower where that she lay,
That her lord was prisoner in enemy's land,
Since into Tividale he had led the way.

"I wad lourd have had a winding-sheet,
And helped to put it ower his head, 170
Ere he had been disgraced by the Border Scot,
Whan he ower Liddel his men did lead!"

There was a wild gallant amang us a',
His name was Watty wi' the Wudspurs,
Cried--"On for his house in Stanegirthside,[L175] 175
If ony man will ride with us!"

When they cam to the Stanegirthside,
They dang wi' trees, and burst the door;
They loosed out a' the Captain's kye,
And set them forth our lads before. 180

There was an auld wyfe ayont the fire,
A wee bit o' the Captain's kin--
"Whae dar loose out the Captain's kye,
Or answer to him and his men?"

"It's I, Watty Wudspurs, loose the kye, 185
I winna layne my name frae thee;
And I will loose out the Captain's kye,
In scorn of a' his men and he."

Whan they cam to the fair Dodhead,
They were a wellcum sight to see; 190
For instead of his ain ten milk kye,
Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.

And he has paid the rescue shot,
Baith wi' goud and white monie;
And at the burial o' Willie Scott, 195
I wat was mony a weeping ee.[L196]

6-8. Hardhaughswire is the pass from Liddesdale to the head of Teviotdale. Borthwick water is a stream which falls into the Teviot three miles above Hawick.--S.

11. The Dodhead, in Selkirkshire, near Singlee, where there are still the vestiges of an old tower.--S.

28. Stobs Hall, upon Slitterick, the seat of Sir William, of that clan. Jamie Telfer made his first application here, because he _seems_ to have paid the proprietor of the castle _black-mail_, or protection money.--S.

37. The ancient family-seat of the Lairds of Buccleuch, near Hawick.--S.

45-48. See _Young Beichan_, vol. iv. p. 3.

51. The Coultart Cleugh is nearly opposite to Carlinrig, on the road between Hawick and Mosspaul.--S.

97. The _water_, in the mountainous districts of Scotland, is often used to express the banks of the river, which are the only inhabitable parts of the country. _To raise the water_, therefore, was to alarm those who lived along its side.--S.

101. The estates, mentioned in this verse, belonged to families of the name of Scott, residing upon the waters of Borthwick and Teviot, near the castle of their chief.--S.

105. The pursuers seem to have taken the road through the hills of Liddesdale, in order to collect forces, and intercept the forayers at the passage of the Liddel, on their return to Bewcastle. The Ritterford and Kershope-ford, after-mentioned, are noted fords on the river Liddel.--S.

113. The Frostylee is a brook, which joins the Teviot, near Mosspaul.--S.

143. The Dinlay is a mountain in Liddesdale.--S.

153. Perhaps one of the ancient family of Brougham, in Cumberland. The Editor has used some freedom with the original in the subsequent verse. The account of the Captain's disaster is rather too _na[:i]ve_ for literal publication.--S.

175. A house belonging to the Foresters, situated on the English side of the Liddel.--S.

196. An article in the list of attempts upon England, fouled by the Commissioners at Berwick, in the year 1587, may relate to the subject of the foregoing ballad.

October, 1582.

Thomas Musgrave, deputy { Walter Scott, Laird } 200 kine and
of Bewcastle, and { of Buckluth, and his } oxen, 300 gait
the tenants, against { complices; for } and sheep.

_Introduction to the History of Westmoreland and Cumberland_, p. 31.--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.

Sleep'ry Sim of the Lamb-hill,
And snoring Jock of Suport-mill,
Ye are baith right het and fou';
But my wae wakens na you.
Last night I saw a sorry sight-- 5
Nought left me o' four-and-twenty gude ousen and ky,
My weel-ridden gelding, and a white quey,
But a toom byre and a wide,
And the twelve nogs on ilka side.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', 10
My gear's a' gane.

Weel may ye ken,
Last night I was right scarce o' men:
But Toppet Hob o' the Mains had guesten'd in my house by chance;
I set him to wear the fore-door wi' the speir, while I kept the
back-door wi' the lance; 15
But they hae run him thro' the thick o' the thie, and broke his
knee-pan,
And the mergh o' his shin-bane has run down on his spur-leather
whang:
He's lame while he lives, and where'er he may gang.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane. 20

But Peenye, my gude son, is out at the Hagbut-head,
His een glittering for anger like a fiery gleed;
Crying--"Mak sure the nooks
Of Maky's-muir crooks;
For the wily Scot takes by nooks, hooks, and crooks. 25
Gin we meet a' together in a head the morn,
We'll be merry men."
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane.

There's doughty Cuddy in the Heugh-head, 30
Thou was aye gude at a need;
With thy brock-skin bag at thy belt,[L32]
Aye ready to mak a puir man help.
Thou maun awa' out to the Cauf-craigs,
(Where anes ye lost your ain twa naigs,) 35
And there toom thy brock-skin bag.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.

Doughty Dan o' the Houlet Hirst,
Thou was aye gude at a birst; 40
Gude wi' a bow, and better wi' a speir,
The bauldest March-man that e'er follow'd gear:
Come thou here.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane. 45

Rise, ye carle coopers, frae making o' kirns and tubs,
In the Nicol forest woods.[L47]
Your craft hasna left the value of an oak rod,
But if you had ony fear o' God,
Last night ye hadna slept sae sound, 50
And let my gear be a' ta'en.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.

Ah! lads, we'll fang them a' in a net,
For I hae a' the fords o' Liddel set; 55
The Dunkin and the Door-loup,
The Willie-ford, and the Water-slack,
The Black-rack and the Trout-dub of Liddel.
There stands John Forster, wi' five men at his back,
Wi bufft coat and cap of steil. 60
Boo! ca' at them e'en, Jock;
That ford's sicker, I wat weil.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.

Hoo! hoo! gar raise the Reid Souter, and Ringan's Wat, 65
Wi' a broad elshin and a wicker;
I wat weil they'll mak a ford sicker.
Sae, whether they be Elliots or Armstrangs,
Or rough-riding Scots, or rude Johnstones,
Or whether they be frae the Tarras or Ewsdale, 70
They maun turn and fight, or try the deeps o' Liddel.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.

"Ah! but they will play ye anither jigg,
For they will out at the big rig, 75
And thro' at Fargy Grame's gap."[L76]
But I hae another wile for that:
For I hae little Will, and Stalwart Wat,
And lang Aicky, in the Souter Moor,
Wi' his sleuth-dog sits in his watch right sure. 80
Shou'd the dog gie a bark,
He'll be out in his sark,
And die or won.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en. 85

Ha! boys!--I see a party appearing--wha's yon?
Methinks it's the Captain of Bewcastle, and Jephtha's John,[L87]
Coming down by the foul steps of Catlowdie's loan:
They'll make a' sicker, come which way they will.
Ha, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', 90
My gear's a' ta'en.

Captain Musgrave, and a' his band,[L92]
Are coming down by the Siller-strand,
And the Muckle toun-bell o' Carlisle is rung:
My gear was a' weel won, 95
And before it's carried o'er the Border, mony a man's gae down.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane.

32. The badger-skin pouch was used for carrying ammunition.--S.

47. A wood in Cumberland, in which Suport is situated.--S.

76. Fergus Grame of Sowport, as one of the chief men of that clan, became security to Lord Scroope for the good behaviour of his friends and dependents, 8th January, 1662.--_Introduction to History of Westmoreland and Cumberland_, p. 111.--S.

87-8. According to the late Glenriddel's notes on this ballad, the office of Captain Bewcastle was held by the chief of the Nixons. Catlowdie is a small village in Cumberland, near the junction of the Esk and Liddel.--S.

92. This was probably the famous Captain Jack Musgrave, who had charge of the watch along the Cryssop, or Kershope, as appears from the order of the watches appointed by Lord Wharton, when Deputy-Warden-General, in the 6th Edward VI.--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.

Rookhope stands in a pleasant place,
If the false thieves wad let it be,
But away they steal our goods apace,
And ever an ill death may they dee!

And so is the men of Thirlwall and Willie-haver,[L5] 5
And all their companies thereabout,
That is minded to do mischief,
And at their stealing stands not out.

But yet we will not slander them all,
For there is of them good enow; 10
It is a sore consumed tree
That on it bears not one fresh bough.

Lord God! is not this a pitiful case,
That men dare not drive their goods to the fell,
But limmer thieves drives them away, 15
That fears neither heaven nor hell?

Lord, send us peace into the realm,
That every man may live on his own!
I trust to God, if it be his will,
That Weardale men may never be overthrown. 20

For great troubles they've had in hand,
With borderers pricking hither and thither,
But the greatest fray that e'er they had,
Was with the men of Thirlwall and Willie-haver.

They gather'd together so royally, 25
The stoutest men and the best in gear;
And he that rade not on a horse,
I wat he rade on a weel-fed mear.

So in the morning, before they came out,
So weel I wot they broke their fast; 30
In the [forenoon they came] unto a bye fell,[L31]
Where some of them did eat their last.

When they had eaten aye and done,
They say'd some captains here needs must be:
Then they choosed forth Harry Corbyl, 35
And 'Symon Fell,' and Martin Ridley.

Then o'er the moss, where as they came,
With many a brank and whew,
One of them could to another say,
"I think this day we are men enew. 40

"For Weardale-men is a journey ta'en;
They are so far out o'er yon fell,
That some of them's with the two earls,[L43]
And others fast in Bernard castell.

"There we shall get gear enough, 45
For there is nane but women at hame;
The sorrowful fend that they can make,
Is loudly cries as they were slain."[L48]

Then in at Rookhope-head they came,
And there they thought tul a had their prey, 50
But they were spy'd coming over the Dry-rig,
Soon upon Saint Nicolas' day.[L52]

Then in at Rookhope-head they came,
They ran the forest but a mile;
They gather'd together in four hours 55
Six hundred sheep within a while.

And horses I trow they gat,
But either ane or twa,
And they gat them all but ane
That belang'd to great Rowley. 60

That Rowley was the first man that did them spy,
With that he raised a mighty cry;
The cry it came down Rookhope burn,
And spread through Weardale hasteyly.

Then word came to the bailiff's house 65
At the East-gate, where he did dwell;[L66]
He was walk'd out to the Smale-burns,
Which stands above the Hanging-well.[L68]

His wife was wae when she heard tell,
So weel she wist her husband wanted gear; 70
She gar'd saddle him his horse in haste,
And neither forgot sword, jack, nor spear.

The bailiff got wit before his gear came,
That such news was in the land,
He was sore troubled in his heart, 75
That on no earth that he could stand.

His brother was hurt three days before,
With limmer thieves that did him prick;
Nineteen bloody wounds lay him upon,
What ferly was't that he lay sick? 80

But yet the bailiff shrinked nought,
But fast after them he did hye,
And so did all his neighbours near,
That went to bear him company.

But when the bailiff was gathered, 85
And all his company,
They were numbered to never a man
But forty under fifty.

The thieves was numbered a hundred men,
I wat they were not of the worst 90
That could be choosed out of Thirlwall and Willie-haver,
[I trow they were the very first.][L92]

But all that was in Rookhope-head,
And all that was i' Nuketon-cleugh,
Where Weardale-men o'ertook the thieves, 95
And there they gave them fighting eneugh.

So sore they made them fain to flee,
As many was 'a'' out of hand,
And, for tul have been at home again,
They would have been in iron bands. 100

And for the space of long seven years
As sore they mighten a' had their lives,
But there was never one of them
That ever thought to have seen their 'wives.'

About the time the fray began, 105
I trow it lasted but an hour,
Till many a man lay weaponless,
And was sore wounded in that stour.

Also before that hour was done,
Four of the thieves were slain, 110
Besides all those that wounded were,
And eleven prisoners there was ta'en.

George Carrick, and his brother Edie,
Them two, I wot they were both slain;
Harry Corbyl, and Lennie Carrick, 115
Bore them company in their pain.

One of our Weardale-men was slain,
Rowland Emerson his name hight;
I trust to God his soul is well,
Because he 'fought' unto the right. 120

But thus they say'd, "We'll not depart
While we have one:--speed back again!"
And when they came amongst the dead men,
There they found George Carrick slain.

And when they found George Carrick slain, 125
I wot it went well near their 'heart;'
Lord, let them never make a better end,
That comes to play them sicken a 'part.'

I trust to God, no more they shall,
Except it be one for a great chance; 130
For God will punish all those
With a great heavy pestilence.

Thir limmer thieves, they have good hearts,
They nevir think to be o'erthrown;
Three banners against Weardale-men they bare, 135
As if the world had been all their own.

Thir Weardale-men, they have good hearts,
They are as stiff as any tree;
For, if they'd every one been slain,
Never a foot back man would flee. 140

And such a storm amongst them fell
As I think you never heard the like,
For he that bears his head so high,
He oft-times falls into the dyke.

And now I do entreat you all, 145
As many as are present here.
To pray for [the] singer of this song,
For he sings to make blithe your cheer.

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 seventh of July, the suith to say,
At the Reidswire the tryst was set;[L2]
Our wardens they affixed the day,
And, as they promised, so they met.
Alas! that day I'll ne'er forgett! 5
Was sure sae feard, and then sae faine--
They came theare justice for to gett,
Will never green to come again.

Carmichael was our warden then,
He caused the country to conveen; 10
And the Laird's Wat, that worthie man,[L11]
Brought in that sirname weil beseen:
The Armestranges, that aye hae been
A hardy house, but not a hail,[L14]
The Elliots' honours to maintaine, 15
Brought down the lave o' Liddesdale.

Then Tividale came to wi' spied;
The Sheriffe brought the Douglas down,[L18]
Wi' Cranstane, Gladstain, good at need,
Baith Rewle water, and Hawick town. 20
Beanjeddart bauldly made him boun,
Wi' a' the Trumbills, stronge and stout;
The Rutherfoords, with grit renown,
Convoy'd the town of Jedbrugh out.[L24]

Of other clans I cannot tell, 25
Because our warning was not wide--
Be this our folks hae ta'en the fell,
And planted down palliones, there to bide,
We looked down the other side,
And saw come breasting ower the brae, 30
Wi' Sir John Forster for their guyde,[L31]
Full fifteen hundred men and mae.

It grieved him sair that day, I trow,
Wi' Sir George Hearoune of Schipsydehouse;[L34]
Because we were not men enow, 35
They counted us not worth a louse.
Sir George was gentle, meek, and douse,
But _he_ was hail and het as fire;
And yet, for all his cracking crouse,
He rewd the raid o' the Reidswire. 40

To deal with proud men is but pain;
For either must ye fight or flee,
Or else no answer make again,
But play the beast, and let them be.
It was na wonder he was hie, 45
Had Tindaill, Reedsdaill, at his hand,[L46]
Wi' Cukdaill, Gladsdaill on the lee,
And Hebsrime, and Northumberland.[L48]

Yett was our meeting meek eneugh,
Begun wi' merriment and mowes, 50
And at the brae, aboon the heugh,
The clark sat down to call the rowes.
And some for kyne, and some for ewes,
Call'd in of Dandrie, Hob, and Jock--
We saw, come marching ower the knows, 55
Five hundred Fennicks in a flock,--[L56]

With jack and speir, and bows all bent,
And warlike weapons at their will:
Although we were na weel content,
Yet, by my troth, we fear'd no ill. 60
Some gaed to drink, and some stude still,
And some to cards and dice them sped;
Till on ane Farnstein they fyled a bill,
And he was fugitive and fled.

Carmichaell bade them speik out plainlie, 65
And cloke no cause for ill nor good;
The other, answering him as vainlie,
Began to reckon kin and blood:
He raise, and raxed him where he stood,
And bade him match him with his marrows; 70
Then Tindaill heard them reasun rude,
And they loot off a flight of arrows.

Then was there nought but bow and speir,
And every man pull'd out a brand;
"A Schafton and a Fenwick" thare: 75
Gude Symington was slain frae hand.
The Scotsmen cried on other to stand,
Frae time they saw John Robson slain--
What should they cry? the King's command
Could cause no cowards turn again. 80

Up rose the laird to red the cumber,
Which would not be for all his boast;
What could we doe with sic a number--
Fyve thousand men into a host?
Then Henry Purdie proved his cost, 85
And very narrowlie had mischief'd him,
And there we had our warden lost,
Wert not the grit God he relieved him.

Another throw the breiks him bair,
Whill flatlies to the ground he fell: 90
Than thought I weel we had lost him there,
Into my stomack it struck a knell!
Yet up he raise, the treuth to tell ye,
And laid about him dints full dour;
His horsemen they raid sturdily, 95
And stude about him in the stoure.

Then raise the slogan with ane shout--
"Fy, Tindaill, to it! Jedburgh's here!"[L98]
I trow he was not half sae stout,
But anis his stomach was asteir. 100
With gun and genzie, bow and speir,
Men might see mony a cracked crown!
But up amang the merchant geir,
They were as busy as we were down.

The swallow taill frae tackles flew, 105
Five hundredth flain into a flight:
But we had pestelets enew,
And shot among them as we might.
With help of God the game gaed right,
Fra time the foremost of them fell; 110
Then ower the know, without goodnight,
They ran with mony a shout and yell.

But after they had turned backs,
Yet Tindail men they turn'd again,
And had not been the merchant packs,[L115] 115
There had been mae of Scotland slain.
But, Jesu! if the folks were fain
To put the bussing on their thies;
And so they fled, wi' a' their main,
Down ower the brae, like clogged bees. 120

Sir Francis Russell ta'en was there,[L121]
And hurt, as we hear men rehearse;
Proud Wallinton was wounded sair,[L123]
Albeit he be a Fennick fierce.
But if ye wald a souldier search, 125
Among them a' were ta'en that night,
Was nane sae wordie to put in verse,
As Collingwood, that courteous knight.[L128]

Young Henry Schafton, he is hurt;[L129]
A souldier shot him wi' a bow; 130
Scotland has cause to mak great sturt,
For laiming of the Laird of Mow.[L132]
The Laird's Wat did weel indeed;
His friends stood stoutlie by himsell,
With little Gladstain, gude in need, 135
For Gretein kend na gude be ill.[L136]

The Sheriffe wanted not gude will,
Howbeit he might not fight so fast;
Beanjeddart, Hundlie, and Hunthill,[L139]
Three, on they laid weel at the last. 140
Except the horsemen of the guard,
If I could put men to availe,
None stoutlier stood out for their laird,
Nor did the lads of Liddisdail.

But little harness had we there; 145
But auld Badreule had on a jack,[L146]
And did right weel, I you declare,
With all his Trumbills at his back.
Gude Edderstane was not to lack,[L149]
Nor Kirktoun, Newton, noble men![L150] 150
Thir's all the specials I of speake,
By others that I could not ken.

Who did invent that day of play,
We need not fear to find him soon;
For Sir John Forster, I dare well say, 155
Made us this noisome afternoon.
Not that I speak preceislie out,
That he supposed it would be perril;
But pride, and breaking out of feuid,
Garr'd Tindaill lads begin the quarrel. 160

2. _Swire_ signifies the descent of a hill, and the epithet _Red_ is derived from the color of the heath, or perhaps, from the Reid-water, which rises at no great distance.--S.

11. The Laird's Wat is perhaps the young Buccleuch, who, about twenty years after this _raid_, performed the great exploit of rescuing Kinmont Willie from Carlisle Castle.--S.

14. This clan are here mentioned as not being hail, or whole, because they were outlawed or broken men. Indeed, many of them had become Englishmen, as the phrase then went. There was an old alliance betwixt the Elliots and Armstrongs, here alluded to.--S.

18. Douglas of Cavers, hereditary Sheriff of Teviotdale, descended from Black Archibald, who carried the standard of his father, the Earl of Douglas, at the battle of Otterbourne.--See the ballad of that name.--S.

24. These were ancient and powerful clans, residing chiefly upon the river Jed. Hence, they naturally convoyed the town of Jedburgh out. The following fragment of an old ballad is quoted in a letter from an aged gentleman of this name, residing at New York, to a friend in Scotland:--

"Bauld Rutherfurd, he was fou stout,
Wi' a' his nine sons him round about;
He led the town o' Jedburgh out,
All bravely fought that day."--S.

31. Sir John Forster, or, more properly, Forrester, of Balmbrough Abbey, Warden of the Middle Marches in 1561, was deputy-governor of Berwick, and governor of Balmborough Castle.--S.

34. George Heron Miles of Chipchase Castle, probably the same who was slain at the Reidswire, was Sheriff of Northumberland, 13th Elizabeth.--S.

46. These are districts, or dales, on the English Border.

48. Mr. George Ellis suggests, with great probability, that this is a mistake, not for Hebburne, as the Editor stated in an earlier edition, but for Hexham, which, with its territory, formed a county independent of Northumberland, with which it is here ranked.--S.

56. The Fenwicks; a powerful and numerous Northumberland clan.--S.

98. The gathering word peculiar to a certain name, or set of people, was termed _slogan_ or _slughorn_, and was always repeated at an onset, as well as on many other occasions. It was usually the name of the clan, or place of rendezvous, or leader. In 1335, the English, led by Thomas of Rosslyne, and William Moubray, assaulted Aberdeen. The former was mortally wounded in the onset; and, as his followers were pressing forward, shouting "_Rosslyne! Rosslyne!_" "Cry _Moubray_," said the expiring chieftain; "_Rosslyne_ is gone!"--S.

115. The ballad-maker here ascribes the victory to the real cause; for the English Borderers dispersing to plunder the merchandise, gave the opposite party time to recover from their surprise. It seems to have been usual for travelling merchants to attend Border meetings, although one would have thought the kind of company usually assembled there might have deterred them.--S.

121. This gentleman was son to the Earl of Bedford, and Warden of the East Marches. He was, at this time, chamberlain of Berwick.--S.

123. Fenwick of Wallington, a powerful Northumbrian chief.--S.

128. Sir Cuthbert Collingwood of Esslington, Sheriff of Northumberland, the 10th and 20th of Elizabeth.--S.

129. The Shaftoes are an ancient family settled at Bavington, in Northumberland, since the time of Edward I.--S.

132. An ancient family on the Borders. The Laird of Mowe here mentioned was the only gentleman of note killed in the skirmish on the Scottish side.--S.

136. Graden, a family of Kers.--S.

139. Douglas of Beanjeddart, an ancient branch of the house of Cavers, possessing property near the junction of the Jed and Teviot. _Hundlie._--Rutherford of Hundlie, or Hundalee, situated on the Jed above Jedburgh. _Hunthill._--The old tower of Hunthill was situated about a mile above Jedburgh. It was the patrimony of an ancient family of Rutherfords. I suppose the person, here meant, to be the same who is renowned in tradition by the name of the _Cock of Hunthill_.--S.

146. Sir Andrew Turnbull of Bedrule, upon Rule Water.--S.

149. An ancient family of Rutherfords; I believe, indeed, the most ancient now extant.--S.

150. The parish of Kirktoun belonged, I believe, about this time, to a branch of the Cavers family; but Kirkton of Stewartfield is mentioned in the list of Border clans in 1597. _Newton._--This is probably Grinyslaw of Little Newton, mentioned in the said roll of Border clans.--S.

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.

God send the land deliverance
Frae every reaving, riding Scot;
We'll sune hae neither cow nor ewe,
We'll sune hae neither staig nor stot.

The outlaws come frae Liddesdale, 5
They herry Redesdale far and near;
The rich man's gelding it maun gang,
They canna pass the puir man's mear.

Sure it were weel, had ilka thief
Around his neck a halter strang; 10
And curses heavy may they light
On traitors vile oursels amang.

Now Parcy Reed has Crosier ta'en,
He has delivered him to the law;
But Crosier says he'll do waur than that, 15
He'll make the tower o' Troughend fa'.

And Crosier says he will do waur--
He will do waur if waur can be;
He'll make the bairns a' fatherless;
And then, the land it may lie lee. 20

"To the hunting, ho!" cried Parcy Reed,
"The morning sun is on the dew;
The cauler breeze frae off the fells
Will lead the dogs to the quarry true.

"To the hunting, ho!" cried Parcy Reed, 25
And to the hunting he has gane;
And the three fause Ha's o' Girsonsfield
Alang wi' him he has them ta'en.

They hunted high, they hunted low,
By heathery hill and birken shaw; 30
They raised a buck on Rooken Edge,
And blew the mort at fair Ealylawe.

They hunted high, they hunted low,
They made the echoes ring amain;
With music sweet o' horn and hound, 35
They merry made fair Redesdale glen.

They hunted high, they hunted low,
They hunted up, they hunted down,
Until the day was past the prime,
And it grew late in the afternoon. 40

They hunted high in Batinghope,
When as the sun was sinking low,
Says Parcy then, "Ca' off the dogs,
We'll bait our steeds and homeward go."

They lighted high in Batinghope, 45
Atween the brown and benty ground;
They had but rested a little while,
Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound.

There's nane may lean on a rotten staff,
But him that risks to get a fa'; 50
There's nane may in a traitor trust,
And traitors black were every Ha'.

They've stown the bridle off his steed,
And they've put water in his lang gun;
They've fixed his sword within the sheath, 55
That out again it winna come.

"Awaken ye, waken ye, Parcy Reed,
Or by your enemies be ta'en;
For yonder are the five Crosiers
A-coming owre the Hingin-stane." 60

"If they be five, and we be four,
Sae that ye stand alang wi' me,
Then every man ye will take one,
And only leave but two to me:
We will them meet as brave men ought, 65
And make them either fight or flee."

"We mayna stand, we canna stand,
We daurna stand alang wi' thee;
The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,
And they wad kill baith thee and we." 70

"O, turn thee, turn thee, Johnie Ha',
O, turn thee, man, and fight wi' me;
When ye come to Troughend again,
My gude black naig I will gie thee;
He cost full twenty pound o' gowd, 75
Atween my brother John and me."

"I mayna turn, I canna turn,
I daurna turn and fight wi' thee;
The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,
And they wad kill baith thee and me." 80

"O, turn thee, turn thee, Willie Ha',
O, turn thee, man, and fight wi' me;
When ye come to Troughend again,
A yoke o' owsen I'll gie thee."

"I mayna turn, I canna turn, 85
I daurna turn and fight wi' thee;
The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,
And they wad kill baith thee and me."