Chapter V: Book VI: The Lochmaben Harper (4)

"O, turn thee, turn thee, Tommy Ha',
O, turn now, man, and fight wi' me; 90
If ever we come to Troughend again,
My daughter Jean I'll gie to thee."

"I mayna turn, I canna turn,
I daurna turn and fight wi' thee;
The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, 95
And they wad kill baith thee and me."

"O, shame upon ye, traitors a'!
I wish your hames ye may never see;
Ye've stown the bridle off my naig,
And I can neither fight nor flee. 100

"Ye've stown the bridle off my naig,
And ye've put water i' my lang gun;
Ye've fixed my sword within the sheath,
That out again it winna come."

He had but time to cross himsel', 105
A prayer he hadna time to say,
Till round him came the Crosiers keen,
All riding graithed, and in array.

"Weel met, weel met, now, Parcy Reed,
Thou art the very man we sought; 110
Owre lang hae we been in your debt,
Now will we pay you as we ought.

"We'll pay thee at the nearest tree,
Where we shall hang thee like a hound;"
Brave Parcy rais'd his fankit sword, 115
And fell'd the foremost to the ground.

Alake, and wae for Parcy Reed,
Alake, he was an unarmed man;
Four weapons pierced him all at once,
As they assailed him there and than. 120

They fell upon him all at once,
They mangled him most cruellie;
The slightest wound might caused his deid,
And they have gi'en him thirty-three.
They hacket off his hands and feet, 125
And left him lying on the lee.

"Now, Parcy Reed, we've paid our debt,
Ye canna weel dispute the tale,"
The Crosiers said, and off they rade--
They rade the airt o' Liddesdale. 130

It was the hour o' gloamin' gray,
When herds come in frae fauld and pen;
A herd he saw a huntsman lie,
Says he, "Can this be Laird Troughen'?"

"There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, 135
And some will ca' me Laird Troughen';
It's little matter what they ca' me,
My faes hae made me ill to ken.

"There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed,
And speak my praise in tower and town; 140
It's little matter what they do now,
My life-blood rudds the heather brown.

"There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed,
And a' my virtues say and sing;
I would much rather have just now 145
A draught o' water frae the spring!"

The herd flung aff his clouted shoon,
And to the nearest fountain ran;
He made his bonnet serve a cup,
And wan the blessing o' the dying man. 150

"Now, honest herd, ye maun do mair,--
Ye maun do mair as I ye tell;
Ye maun bear tidings to Troughend,
And bear likewise my last farewell.

"A farewell to my wedded wife, 155
A farewell to my brother John,
Wha sits into the Troughend tower,
Wi' heart as black as any stone.

"A farewell to my daughter Jean,
A farewell to my young sons five; 160
Had they been at their father's hand,
I had this night been man alive.

"A farewell to my followers a',
And a' my neighbours gude at need;
Bid them think how the treacherous Ha's 165
Betrayed the life o' Parcy Reed.

"The laird o' Clennel bears my bow,
The laird o' Brandon bears my brand;
Whene'er they ride i' the border side,
They'll mind the fate o' the laird Troughend." 170

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.

It befell at Martynmas
When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care saide to his men,
"We must go take a holde."

"Haille, master, and wether you will, 5
And wether ye like it best."
"To the castle of Crecrynbroghe;
And there we will take our reste.

"I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is build of lyme and stone, 10
Within 'there' is a gay ladie,
Her lord is ryd from hom."

The ladie lend on her castle-walle,
She loked upp and downe;
There was she ware of an host of men, 15
Come riding to the towne.

"Come yow hether, my meri men all,
And look what I do see;
Yonder is ther an host of men,
I musen who they bee." 20

She thought he had been her own wed lord,
That had comd riding home;
Then was it traitour Captaine Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.

They were no soner at supper sett, 25
Then after said the grace,
Or captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.

"Gyve over thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande; 30
To-nighte thoust ly wythin my arm,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lan[de]."

Then bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde,
"O mother dere, geve over your howsse, 35
Or elles we shal be deade."

"I will not geve over my hous," she saithe,
"Not for feare of my lyffe;
It shal be talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe. 40

"Fetch me my pestilett,
And charge me my gonne,
That I may shott at the bloddy butcher,
The lord of Easter-towne."

She styfly stod on her castle-wall, 45
And lett the pellettes flee,
She myst the blody bucher,
And slew other three.

"I will not geve over my hous," she saithe,
"Netheir for lord nor lowne, 50
Nor yet for traitour Captaine Care,
The lord of Easter-towne.

"I desire of Captaine Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would save my eldest sonne, 55
The eare of all my lande."

"Lap him in a shete," he sayth,
"And let him downe to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran wyll I be." 60

The captayne sayd unto himselfe,
Wyth sped before the rest;
He cut his tonge out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.

He lapt them in a handerchef, 65
And knet it of knotes three,
And cast them over the castell-wall
At that gay ladye.

"Fye upon thee, Captaine Care,
And all thy bloddy band, 70
For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land."

Then bespake the yongest sonn,
That sat on the nurses knee,
Sayth, "Mother gay, geve ower your house, 75
[The smoke] it smoldereth me."

"I wold geve my gold," she saith,
"And so I wolde my fee,
For a blaste of the wesleyn wind
To dryve the smoke from thee. 80

"Fy upon thee, John Hamleton,
That ever I paid th['e] hyre,
For thou hast broken my castle-wall,
And kyndled in [it] the fyre."[L84]

The lady gate to her close parler, 85
The fire fell aboute her head;
She toke up her children thre,
Seth, "Babes, we are all dead."

Then bespake the hye steward,
That is of hye degree; 90
Saith, "Ladie gay, you are no 'bote,'
Wethere ye fighte or flee."

Lord Hamleton dremd in his dreame,
In Carvall where he laye,
His halle 'was' all of fyre, 95
His ladie slayne or daye.

"Busk and bowne, my merry men all,
Even and go ye with me,
For I 'dremd' that my hall was on fyre
My lady slayne or day." 100

He buskt him and bownd him,
And like a worthi knighte,
And when he saw his hall burning,
His harte was no dele lighte.

He sett a trumpett till his mouth, 105
He blew as it plesd his grace;
Twenty score of Hambletons
Was light aboute the place.

"Had I knowne as much yesternighte
As I do to-daye, 110
Captaine Care and all his men
Should not have gone so quite [awaye.]

"Fye upon thee, Captaine Care,
And all thy blody 'bande;'
Thou hast slayne my lady gaye, 115
More worth then all thy lande.

"Yf thou had ought eny ill will," he saith,
"Thou shoulde have taken my lyffe,
And have saved my children thre,
All and my lovesome wyffe." 120

84, thee.

EDOM O' GORDON.

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

It fell about the Martinmas,
Quhen the wind blew schrile and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
"We maun draw to a hauld.

"And what an a hauld sall we draw to, 5
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house of the Rodes,
To see that fair ladie."

She had nae sooner busket hersell,
Nor putten on her gown, 10
Till Edom o' Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.

They had nae sooner sitten down,
Nor sooner said the grace,
Till Edom o' Gordon and his men 15
Were closed about the place.

The lady ran up to her tower head,
As fast as she could drie,
To see if by her fair speeches,
She could with him agree. 20

As soon as he saw the lady fair,
And hir yates all locked fast,
He fell into a rage of wrath,
And his heart was aghast.[L24]

"Cum down to me, ze lady fair, 25
Cum down to me, let's see;
This night ze's ly by my ain side,
The morn my bride sall be."

"I winnae cum down, ye fals Gordon,
I winnae cum down to thee; 30
I winnae forsake my ane dear lord
That is sae far frae me."

"Gi up your house, ze fair lady,
Gi up your house to me,
Or I will burn zoursel therein, 35
Bot you and zour babies three."

"I winna gie up, zou fals Gordon,
To nae sik traitor as thee,
Tho' zou should burn mysel therein,
Bot and my babies three." 40

"Set fire to the house," quoth fals Gordon,
"Sin better may nae bee;
And I will burn hersel therein,
Bot and her babies three."

"And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man, 45
I paid ze weil zour fee;
Why pow ze out my ground wa' stane,
Lets in the reek to me?

"And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,
For I paid zou weil zour hire; 50
Why pow ze out my ground wa' stane,
To me lets in the fire?"

"Ye paid me weil my hire, lady,
Ye paid me weil my fee,
But now I'm Edom of Gordon's man, 55
Maun either do or die."

O then bespake her zoungest son,
Sat on the nurses knee,
"Dear mother, gie owre your house," he says,
"For the reek it worries me." 60

"I winnae gie up my house, my dear,
To nae sik traitor as he;
Cum well, cum wae, my jewels fair,
Ye maun tak share wi me."

O then bespake her dochter dear, 65
She was baith jimp and sma,
"O row me in a pair o' shiets,
And tow me owre the wa."

They rowd her in a pair of shiets,
And towd her owre the wa, 70
But, on the point of Edom's speir,
She gat a deadly fa'.

O bonny, bonny, was hir mouth,
And chirry were her cheiks,
And clear, clear was hir zellow hair, 75
Whereon the reid bluid dreips.

Then wi his speir he turn'd hir owr,
O gin hir face was wan!
He said, "Zou are the first that eer
I wisht alive again." 80

He turn'd her owr and owr again;
O gin hir skin was whyte!
He said, "I might ha spard thy life,
To been some mans delyte."

"Busk and boon, my merry men all, 85
For ill dooms I do guess;
I cannae luik in that bonny face,
As it lyes on the grass."

"Them luiks to freits, my master deir,
Their freits will follow them;[L90] 90
Let it neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon
Was daunted with a dame."

O then he spied hir ain deir lord,
As he came owr the lee;
He saw his castle in a fire, 95
As far as he could see.

"Put on, put on, my mighty men,[L97]
As fast as ze can drie,
For he that's hindmost of my men,
Sall neir get guid o' me." 100

And some they raid, and some they ran,
Fu fast out owr the plain,
But lang, lang, eer he coud get up,
They were a' deid and slain.

But mony were the mudie men 105
Lay gasping on the grien;
For o' fifty men that Edom brought out
There were but five ged heme.

And mony were the mudie men
Lay gasping on the grien, 110
And mony were the fair ladys
Lay lemanless at heme.

And round and round the waes he went,
Their ashes for to view;
At last into the flames he flew, 115
And bad the world adieu.

24. heart, _pronounced_ hearrut.

90. Then.

97. _Qy._ wight yemen?

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.

As I came in by Fiddich-side,
In a May morning,
I met Willie Mackintosh
An hour before the dawning.

"Turn again, turn again, 5
Turn again, I bid ye;
If ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly he will head ye."

"Head me, hang me,
That sall never fear me; 10
I'll burn Auchindown
Before the life leaves me."

As I came in by Auchindown,
In a May morning,
Auchindown was in a bleeze, 15
An hour before the dawning.
* * * * *

"Crawing, crawing,
For my crowse crawing,
I lost the best feather i' my wing,
For my crowse crawing." 20

II.

From _The Thistle of Scotland_, p. 106.

"Turn, Willie Mackintosh,
Turn, I bid you,
Gin ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly will head you."

"Head me, or hang me, 5
That canna fley me,
I'll burn Auchindown,
Ere the life lea' me."

Coming down Dee-side
In a clear morning, 10
Auchindown was in a flame,
Ere the cock crawing.

But coming o'er Cairn Croom,
And looking down, man,
I saw Willie Mackintosh 15
Burn Auchindown, man.

"Bonny Willie Mackintosh,
Whare left ye your men?"
"I left them in the Stapler,
But they'll never come hame." 20

"Bonny Willie Mackintosh,
Where now is your men?"
"I left them in the Stapler,
Sleeping in their sheen."

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 Gr[ae]mes. 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."

"Adieu, madame, my mother dear,
But and my sisters three!
Adieu, fair Robert of Orchardstane!
My heart is wae for thee.
Adieu, the lily and the rose, 5
The primrose fair to see!
Adieu, my ladye, and only joy!
For I may not stay with thee.

"Though I hae slain the Lord Johnstone,
What care I for their feid? 10
My noble mind their wrath disdains,--
He was my father's deid.
Both night and day I labour'd oft
Of him avenged to be;
But now I've got what lang I sought, 15
And I may not stay with thee.

"Adieu, Drumlanrig! false wert aye--
And Closeburn in a band!
The Laird of Lag, frae my father that fled,
When the Johnston struck aff his hand! 20
They were three brethren in a band--
Joy may they never see!
Their treacherous art, and cowardly heart,
Has twined my love and me.

"Adieu, Dumfries, my proper place, 25
But and Carlaverock fair!
Adieu, my castle of the Thrieve,
Wi' a' my buildings there!
Adieu, Lochmaben's gate sae fair,
The Langholm-holm, where birks there be! 30
Adieu, my ladye, and only joy!
For, trust me, I may not stay wi' thee.

"Adieu, fair Eskdale, up and down,
Where my puir friends do dwell!
The bangisters will ding them down, 35
And will them sair compell.
But I'll avenge their feid mysell,
When I come o'er the sea;
Adieu, my ladye, and only joy!
For I may not stay wi' thee." 40

"Lord of the land,"--that ladye said,
"O wad ye go wi' me,
Unto my brother's stately tower,
Where safest ye may be!
There Hamiltons, and Douglas baith, 45
Shall rise to succour thee."
"Thanks for thy kindness, fair my dame,
But I may not stay wi' thee."

Then he tuik aff a gay gold ring,
Thereat hang signets three; 50
"Hae, tak thee that, mine ain dear thing,
And still hae mind o' me:
But if thou take another lord,
Ere I come ower the sea--
His life is but a three days' lease, 55
Though I may not stay wi' thee."

The wind was fair, the ship was clear,
That good lord went away;
And most part of his friends were there,
To give him a fair convey. 60
They drank the wine, they didna spair,
Even in that gude lord's sight--
Sae now he's o'er the floods sae gray,
And Lord Maxwell has ta'en his Goodnight.

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.

'Twixt Girth-head and the Langwood end,[L1]
Lived the Galliard, and the Galliard's men,
But and the lads of Leverhay,
That drove the Crichton's gear away.

It is the lads of Lethenha', 5
The greatest rogues amang them a';
But and the lads of Stefenbiggin,
They broke the house in at the rigging.

The lads of Fingland, and Helbeck-hill,
They were never for good, but aye for ill; 10
'Twixt the Staywood-bush and Langside-hill,
They steal'd the broked cow and the branded bull.

It is the lads of the Girth-head,
The deil's in them for pride and greed;
For the Galliard, and the gay Galliard's men, 15
They ne'er saw a horse but they made it their ain.

The Galliard to Nithsdale is gane,
To steal Sim Crichton's winsome dun;
The Galliard is unto the stable gane,
But instead of the dun, the blind he has ta'en. 20

"Now Simmy, Simmy of the Side,
Come out and see a Johnstone ride!
Here's the bonniest horse in a' Nithside,
And a gentle Johnstone aboon his hide."

Simmy Crichton's mounted then, 25
And Crichtons has raised mony a ane;
The Galliard trow'd his horse had been wight,
But the Crichtons beat him out o' sight.

As soon as the Galliard the Crichton saw,
Behind the saugh-bush he did draw; 30
And there the Crichtons the Galliard hae ta'en,
And nane wi' him but Willie alane.

"O Simmy, Simmy, now let me gang,
And I'll never mair do a Crichton wrang!
O Simmy, Simmy, now let me be, 35
And a peck o' gowd I'll give to thee!

"O Simmy, Simmy, now let me gang,
And my wife shall heap it with her hand!"
But the Crichtons wadna let the Galliard be,
But they hang'd him hie upon a tree. 40

O think then Willie he was right wae,
When he saw his uncle guided sae;
"But if ever I live Wamphray to see,
My uncle's death avenged shall be!"

Back to Wamphray he is gane, 45
And riders has raised mony a ane;
Saying--"My lads, if ye'll be true,
Ye shall a' be clad in the noble blue."

Back to Nithsdale they have gane,
And awa' the Crichtons' nowt hae ta'en; 50
But when they cam to the Wellpath-head,[L51]
The Crichtons bade them light and lead.

And when they cam to the Biddes-burn,
The Crichtons bade them stand and turn;
And when they cam to the Biddes-strand, 55
The Crichtons they were hard at hand.

But when they cam to the Biddes-law,
The Johnstones bade them stand and draw;
"We've done nae ill, we'll thole nae wrang,
But back to Wamphray we will gang." 60

And out spoke Willie of the Kirkhill,
"Of fighting, lads, ye'se hae your fill;"
And from his horse Willie he lap,
And a burnish'd brand in his hand he gat.

Out through the Crichtons Willie he ran, 65
And dang them down baith horse and man;
O but the Johnstones were wondrous rude,
When the Biddes-burn ran three days blood!

"Now, sirs, we have done a noble deed,--
We have revenged the Galliard's bleid; 70
For every finger of the Galliard's hand,
I vow this day I've kill'd a man."

As they cam in at Evan-head,
At Ricklaw-holm they spread abread;[L74]
"Drive on, my lads! it will be late; 75
We'll hae a pint at Wamphray gate.

"For where'er I gang, or e'er I ride,
The lads of Wamphray are on my side;
And of a' the lads that I do ken,
A Wamphray lad's the king of men." 80

1-7. Leverhay, Stefenbiggin, Girth-head, &c., are all situated in the parish of Wamphray.--S.

51-53. The Wellpath is a pass by which the Johnstones were retreating to their fastnesses in Annandale. The Biddes-burn, where the skirmish took place betwixt the Johnstones and their pursuers, is a rivulet which takes its course among the mountains on the confines of Nithesdale and Annandale.--S.

74-76. Ricklaw-holm is a place upon the Evan-water, which falls into the Annan, below Moffat. Wamphray-gate was in those days an alehouse.--S.

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 Sophi[ae] Hay, domin[ae] 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 reek it rose, and the flame it flew,
And oh the fire augmented high,
Until it came to Lord John's chamber-window,
And to the bed where Lord John lay.

"O help me, help me, Lady Frennet!
I never ettled harm to thee;
And if my father slew my lord,
Forget the deed and rescue me."

He looked east, he looked west,
To see if any help was nigh;
At length his little page he saw,
Who to his lord aloud did cry.

"Loup doun, loup doun, my master dear!
What though the window's dreigh and hie?
I'll catch you in my arms twa,
And never a foot from you I'll flee."

"How can I loup, you little page,
How can I leave this window hie?
Do you not see the blazing low,
And my twa legs burnt to my knee?"

* * * * *

The eighteenth of October,
A dismal tale to hear,
How good Lord John and Rothiemay
Was both burnt in the fire.

When steeds was saddled and well bridled, 5
And ready for to ride,
Then out it came her, false Frendraught,
Inviting them to bide.

Said,--"Stay this night untill we sup,
The morn untill we dine; 10
'Twill be a token of good 'greement
'Twixt your good Lord and mine."

"We'll turn again," said good Lord John;--
"But no," said Rothiemay,--
"My steed's trapan'd, my bridle's broken, 15
I fear the day I'm fey."

When mass was sung, and bells was rung,
And all men bound for bed,
Then good Lord John and Rothiemay
In one chamber was laid. 20

They had not long cast off their cloaths,
And were but now asleep,
When the weary smoke began to rise,
Likewise the scorching heat.

"O waken, waken, Rothiemay! 25
O waken, brother dear!
And turn you to our Saviour;
There is strong treason here."

When they were dressed in their cloaths,
And ready for to boun, 30
The doors and windows was all secur'd,
The roof-tree burning down.

He did him to the wire-window,
As fast as he could gang;
Says,--"Wae to the hands put in the stancheons, 35
For out we'll never win."

When he stood at the wire-window,
Most doleful to be seen,
He did espy her, Lady Frendraught,
Who stood upon the green. 40

Cried,--"Mercy, mercy, Lady Frendraught!
Will ye not sink with sin?
For first your husband killed my father,
And now you burn his son."

O then out spoke her, Lady Frendraught, 45
And loudly did she cry,--
"It were great pity for good Lord John,
But none for Rothiemay.
But the keys are casten in the deep draw well,
Ye cannot get away." 50

While he stood in this dreadful plight,
Most piteous to be seen,
There called out his servant Gordon,
As he had frantic been.

"O loup, O loup, my dear master, 55
O loup and come to me!
I'll catch you in my arms two;
One foot I will not flee.

"O loup, O loup, my dear master,
O loup and come away! 60
I'll catch you in my arms two,
But Rothiemay may lie."

"The fish shall never swim in the flood,
Nor corn grow through the clay,
Nor the fiercest fire that ever was kindled 65
Twin me and Rothiemay.

"But I cannot loup, I cannot come,
I cannot win to thee;
My head's fast in the wire-window,
My feet burning from me. 70

"My eyes are seething in my head,
My flesh roasting also,
My bowels are boiling with my blood;
Is not that a woeful woe?

"Take here the rings from my white fingers 75
That are so long and small,
And give them to my lady fair,
Where she sits in her hall.

"So I cannot loup, I cannot come,
I cannot loup to thee; 80
My earthly part is all consumed,
My spirit but speaks to thee."

Wringing her hands, tearing her hair,
His lady she was seen,
And thus addressed his servant Gordon, 85
Where he stood on the green.

"O wae be to you, George Gordon,
An ill death may you die!
So safe and sound as you stand there,
And my lord bereaved from me." 90

"I bad him loup, I bad him come,
I bad him loup to me;
I'd catch him in my arms two,
A foot I should not flee. &c.

"He threw me the rings from his white fingers, 95
Which were so long and small,
To give to you, his lady fair,
Where you sat in your hall." &c.

Sophia Hay, Sophia Hay,
O bonny Sophia was her name,-- 100
Her waiting maid put on her cloaths,
But I wot she tore them off again.

And aft she cried, "Ohon! alas, alas!
A sair heart's ill to win;
I wan a sair heart when I married him, 105
And the day it's well return'd again."

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.

It fell on a day, and a bonnie summer day,
When the corn grew green and yellow,
That there fell out a great dispute
Between Argyle and Airly.

The Duke o' Montrose has written to Argyle 5
To come in the morning early,
An' lead in his men, by the back o' Dunkeld,
To plunder the bonnie house o' Airly.

The lady look'd o'er her window sae hie,
And O but she looked weary! 10
And there she espied the great Argyle
Come to plunder the bonnie house o' Airly.

"Come down, come down, Lady Margaret," he says,
"Come down and kiss me fairly,
Or before the morning clear daylight, 15
I'll no leave a standing stane in Airly."

"I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,
I wadna kiss thee fairly,
I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,
Gin you shoudna leave a standing stane in Airly." 20

He has ta'en her by the middle sae sma',
Says, "Lady, where is your drury?"
"It's up and down by the bonnie burn side,
Amang the planting of Airly."

They sought it up, they sought it down, 25
They sought it late and early,
And found it in the bonnie balm-tree,
That shines on the bowling-green o' Airly.

He has ta'en her by the left shoulder,
And O but she grat sairly, 30
And led her down to yon green bank,
Till he plundered the bonnie house o' Airly.

"O it's I hae seven braw sons," she says,
"And the youngest ne'er saw his daddie,
And altho' I had as mony mae, 35
I wad gie them a' to Charlie.

"But gin my good lord had been at hame,
As this night he is wi' Charlie,
There durst na a Campbell in a' the west
Hae plundered the bonnie house o' Airly." 40

THE BONNIE HOUSE OF AIRLY.

From Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 59.

It fell on a day, and a bonny simmer day,
When green grew aits and barley,
That there fell out a greet dispute
Between Argyll and Airlie.

Argyll has raised an hunder men, 5
An hunder harness'd rarely,
And he's awa' by the back of Dunkell,
To plunder the castle of Airlie.

Lady Ogilvie looks o'er her bower window,
And O but she looks weary! 10
And there she spy'd the great Argyll,
Come to plunder the bonny house of Airlie.

"Come down, come down, my Lady Ogilvie,
Come down, and kiss me fairly:"
"O I winna kiss the fause Argyll, 15
If he shouldna leave a standing stane in Airlie."

He hath taken her by the left shoulder,
Says, "Dame where lies thy dowry?"
"O it's east and west yon water side,
And it's down by the banks of the Airlie." 20

They hae sought it up, they hae sought it down,
They have sought it maist severely,
Till they fand it in the fair plum-tree,
That shines on the bowling-green of Airlie.

He hath taken her by the middle sae small, 25
And O but she grat sairly!
And laid her down by the bonny burn-side,
Till they plundered the castle of Airlie.

"Gif my gude lord war here this night,
As he is with King Charlie, 30
Neither you, nor ony ither Scottish Lord,
Durst awow to the plundering of Airlie.

"Gif my gude Lord war now at hame,
As he is with his king,
Then durst nae a Campbell in a' Argyll 35
Set fit on Airlie green.

"Ten bonny sons I have born unto him,
The eleventh ne'er saw his daddy;
But though I had an hundred mair,
I'd gie them a' to King Charlie. 40

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.

Down Dee side came Inverey whistling and playing;
He's lighted at Brackley yates at the day dawing.

Says, "Baron o' Brackley, O are ye within?
There's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood spin."

The lady raise up, to the window she went; 5
She heard her kye lowing o'er hill and o'er bent.

"O rise up, ye baron, and turn back your kye;
For the lads o' Drumwharran are driving them bye."

"How can I rise, lady, or turn them again!
Whare'er I have ae man, I wat they hae ten." 10

"Then rise up, my lasses, tak rocks in your hand,
And turn back the kye;--I ha'e you at command.

"Gin I had a husband, as I hae nane,
He wadna lye in his bower, see his kye ta'en."

Then up got the baron, and cried for his graith; 15
Says, "Lady, I'll gang, tho' to leave you I'm laith.

"Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, and gie me my speir;
I ay was for peace, tho' I never fear'd weir.

"Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, nor think I'm to blame;
I weel may gae out, but I'll never win in!" 20

When Brackley was busked, and rade o'er the closs,
A gallanter baron ne'er lap to a horse.

When Brackley was mounted, and rade o'er the green,
He was as bald a baron as ever was seen.

Tho' there cam' wi' Inverey thirty and three, 25
There was nane wi' bonny Brackley but his brother and he.

Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw;
But against four and thirty, wae's me, what is twa?