Chapter XXVI: Book VI: 126. Durham Field (2)

‘Fight on, my men!’ says Sir Andrew Barton;
‘Weate[1146], howsoever this geare[1147] will sway[1148],
It is my Lord Admiral of England
Is come to seek me on the sea.’

XLVII

Simon had a sone; with shot of a gun--
Well Sir Andrew might it ken--
He shot it in at the middle deck,
And killed sixty more of Sir Andrew’s men.

XLVIII

[Bold] Hunt came in at the other side,
And at Sir Andrew he shot then;
He drove down his fore-mast tree,
And kill’d eighty more of Sir Andrew’s men.

XLIX

‘I have done a good turne,’ sayes Henery Hunt;
‘Sir Andrew is not our King’s friend;
He hoped t’ have undone me yesternight,
But I hope I have quit him well in the end.’

L

‘Ever alas!’ sayd Sir Andrew Barton,
‘What sho’ld a man either thinke or say?
Yonder false thief is my strongest enemy,
Who was my prisoner but yesterday.

LI

‘Come hither to me, thou Gourden good,
And be thou ready at my call,
And I will give thee three hundred pound
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall.’

LII

With that hee swarm’d[1149] the main-mast tree,
Soe did he it with might and maine;
But Horsley, with a bearing arrow[1150],
Stroke the Gourden through the braine.

LIII

And he fell into the hatches againe,
And sore of his wound that he did bleed;
Then word went through Sir Andrew’s men,
How that the Gourden he was dead.

LIV

‘Come hither to me, James Hamilton,
Thou’rt my sister’s son, I have no more;
I will give thee six hundred pound
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall.’

LV

With that he swarm’d the main-mast tree,
Soe did he it with might and main:
Horsley, with another broad arrow,
Strake the yeaman thoro’ the brain.

LVI

That he fell downe to the hatches againe;
Sore of his wound that hee did bleed,
_Covetousness gets no gaine,
It is very true_, as the Welshman said.

LVII

But when he saw his nephew slaine,
Lord! in his heart he was not well!
‘Go fetch me downe my armour of proof,
For I will to the topcastle mysell.

LVIII

‘Go fetch me downe my armour of proof,
For it is gilded with gold so cleere;
God be with my brother, John of Barton!
Amongst the Portingalls he did it weare.’

LIX

But when he had his armour of proof,
And on his body he had it on,
Every man that lookèd at him
Said, Gun nor arrow he need fear none.

LX

‘Come hither, Horsley!’ says my Lord Howard,
‘And look your shaft that it goe right;
Shoot a good shoote in the time of need,
And for thy shooting thou’st be made knight.’

LXI

‘I’le do my best,’ sayes Horsley then,
‘Your Honour shall see before I goe;
If I sho’ld be hang’d at your maine-mast tree,
I have in my ship but arrows two.’

LXII

But at Sir Andrew he shot then;
He made so sure to hit his mark;
Under the spole[1151] of his right arme
He smote Sir Andrew quite thro’ the heart.

LXIII

Yet from the tree he wo’ld not start,
But he cling’d to it with might and main;
Under the collar then of his jacke[1152],
He stroke Sir Andrew thoro’ the brain.

LXIV

‘Fight on, my men!’ says Sir Andrew Barton,
‘I am hurt, but I am not slain;
I’le lay me downe and bleed a-while,
And then I’le rise and fight again.

LXV

‘Fight on, my men!’ says Sir Andrew Barton,
‘These English dogs they bite so lowe;
Fight on for Scotland and Saint Andrew
While that you hear my whistle blowe!’

LXVI

But when they co’ld not hear his whistle,
Says Henery Hunt, ‘I’le lay my head
You may board yonder noble ship, my lord,
For I know Sir Andrew he is dead.’

LXVII

With that they boarded this noble ship,
So did they it with might and main;
They found eighteen score Scots alive,
Besides the rest were maim’d and slaine.

LXVIII

Lord Howard took a sword in his hand,
And so smote off Sir Andrew’s head;
The Scots stood by did weepe and mourne,
But never a word they spoke or sayd.

LXIX

He caused his body to be taken downe,
And over the hatch-bord cast into the sea,
And about his middle three hundred crownes:
‘Wheresoever thou lands, it will bury thee!’

LXX

With his head they sayl’d into England againe,
With right good will and force and main,
And on the day before New-Year’s Even
Into Thames’ mouth they came againe.

LXXI

Lord Howard wrote to King Henry’s grace,
With all the newes hee co’ld him bring:
‘Such a New Year’s gift I have brought to your Grace
As never did subject to any King.

LXXII

‘For merchandise, yea and manhood,
The like is nowhere to be found;
The sight of these wo’ld do you good,
For you have not the like in your English ground.’

LXXIII

When the King heard tell that they were come,
Full royally he welcomed them home;
Sir Andrew’s ship was his New-Year’s gift;
A braver ship you never saw none.

LXXIV

Now hath our King Sir Andrew’s ship,
Beset with pearles and precyous stones;
And now hath England two ships of war,
Two ships of war, before but one.

LXXV

‘Who holpe to this?’ says King Henrye,
‘That I may reward him for his paine.’--
‘Henery Hunt, and Peter Simon,
William Horsley, and I the same.’--

LXXVI

‘Harry Hunt shall have his whistle and chaine,
And all his jewels whatsoe’er they be,
And other rich gifts that I will not name,
For his good service he hath done me.

LXXVII

‘Horsley, right thou’st be a knight,
Lands and livings thou shalt have store;
Howard shall be Earl of Nottingham,
And so was never Howard before.

LXXVIII

‘Now, Peter Simon, thou art old;
I will maintaine thee and thy son;
Thou shalt have five hundred pound all in gold
For the good service that thou hast done.’

LXXIX

With that King Henrye shifted his room[1153];
In came the Queene and ladyes bright;
Other arrands they had none
But to see Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.

LXXX

But when they saw his deadly face,
His eyes were hollow in his head;
‘I wo’ld give a hundred pound,’ says his Grace,
‘The man were alive as he is dead!

LXXXI

‘Yet for the manful part he hath play’d,
Both here at home and beyond the sea,
His men shall have half-a-crowne a day
Till they come to my brother, King Jamie.’

FOOTNOTES:

[1137] three pence bread = the breadth of a threepenny piece.

[1138] archèborde = hatch-board.

[1139] dearlye dight = expensively fitted or ornamented.

[1140] guide = guidon, signal flag.

[1141] hall = hull.

[1142] glass = a lantern to guide the man-of-war’s course by the merchantman’s.

[1143] ancients = ensigns.

[1144] stirr’d = moved, lowered.

[1145] can = ken, know.

[1146] Weate = wit ye, know.

[1147] geare = business, fighting.

[1148] sway = go, turn out.

[1149] swarm’d = climbed.

[1150] bearing arrow = a long arrow for distant shooting.

[1151] spole = shoulder, _épaule_.

[1152] jacke = jacket, short coat of mail.

[1153] shifted his room = made place.

_131. The ‘George-Aloe’_

I

The _George-Aloe_, and the _Sweepstake_, too,
_With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no,_
O, there were two Merchant-men, a sailing for Safee
_And alongst the Coast of Barbarye_.

II

The _George-Aloe_ came to anchor in the bay,
_With hey, &c._
But the jolly _Sweepstake_ kept on her way,
_And alongst, &c._

III

They had not sayl’d but leagues two or three,
_With hey, &c._
But they met with a French Man-of-War upon the Sea,
_And alongst, &c._

IV

‘All haile, all haile, you lusty Gallants all!
_With hey, &c._
Of whence is your fair Ship, and whither do ye call?’
_And alongst, &c._

V

‘We are Englishmen, and bound for Safee,’--
_With hey, &c._
‘Ay, and we are Frenchmen, and war upon the sea,
_And alongst, &c._

VI

‘Amaine, Amaine, you English dogs, hail!’--
_With, hey, &c._
‘Come aboard you French swads[1154], and strike down your sayle,’
_And alongst, &c._

VII

They laid us aboard on the Starboard side,
_With hey, &c._
And they threw us into the Sea so wide,
_And alongst, &c._

VIII

When tidings to the _George-Aloe_ came,
_With hey, &c._
That the jolly _Sweepstake_ by a Frenchman was ta’en,
_And alongst, &c._

IX

‘To top, to top, thou little Cabin-boy,
_With hey, &c._
And see if this French Man-of-War thou canst descry,’--
_And alongst, &c._

X

‘A Sayle, a Sayle, under our lee!
_With hey, &c._
Yea, and another that is under her obey!’
_And alongst, &c._

XI

‘Weigh anchor, weigh anchor, O jolly Boat-swain!
_With hey, &c._
We will take this Frenchman, if we can,’
_And alongst, &c._

XII

We had not sayl’d leagues two or three,
_With hey, &c._
But we met the French Man-of-War upon the Sea,
_And alongst, &c._

XIII

‘All haile, All haile, you lusty Gallants hail!
_With hey, &c._
Of whence is your faire Ship, and whither do ye sayl?’
_And alongst, &c._

XIV

‘O, we are Merchant-men and bound for Safee,’--
_With hey, &c._
‘Ay, and we are Frenchmen, and war upon the sea,
_And alongst, &c._

XV

‘Amaine, Amaine, you English Dogges, hail!’--
_With hey, &c._
‘Come aboard, you French rogues, and strike down your sayl!’
_And alongst, &c._

XVI

The first good shot that the _George-Aloe_ shot,
_With hey, &c._
He made the Frenchman’s heart sore afraid,
_And alongst, &c._

XVII

The second shot the _George-Aloe_ did afford,
_With hey, &c._
He struck their main-mast over the board,
_And alongst, &c._

XVIII

‘Have mercy, have mercy, you brave English Men!’--
_With hey, &c._
‘O, what have you done with our merry Brethren?’--
_As they sayl’d in Barbarye?_

XIX

‘We laid them aboard the starboard side,
_With hey, &c._
And we threw them into the Sea so wide,’--
_And alongst, &c._

XX

‘Such mercy as you have shewed unto them,
_With hey, &c._
Then the like mercy shall you have again,’--
_And alongst, &c._

XXI

We laid them aboard the larboard side,
_With hey, &c._
And we threw them into the Sea so wide,
_And alongst, &c._

XXII

Lord, how it grieved our hearts full Sore,
_With hey, &c._
To see the drowned Frenchmen to swim along the shore!
_And alongst, &c._

XXIII

Now gallant Seamen I bid you all adieu,
_With hey, &c._
This is the last Newes I can write to you,
_To England’s Coast from Barbarye._

FOOTNOTES:

[1154] swads = peascods, a cant term for soldiers.

_132. The ‘Golden Vanity’_

I

A ship I have got in the North Country
And she goes by the name of the _Golden Vanity_,
O I fear she’ll be taken by a Spanish Ga-la-lee,
As she sails by the Low-lands low.

II

To the Captain then upspake the little Cabin-boy,
He said, ‘What is my fee, if the galley I destroy?
The Spanish Ga-la-lee, if no more it shall anoy,
As you sail by the Low-lands low.’

III

‘Of silver and of gold I will give to you a store;
And my pretty little daughter that dwelleth on the shore,
Of treasure and of fee as well, I’ll give to thee galore,
As we sail by the Low-lands low.’

IV

Then they row’d him up tight in a black bull’s skin,
And he held all in his hand an augur sharp and thin,
And he swam until he came to the Spanish Gal-a-lin,
As she lay by the Low-lands low.

V

He bored with his augur, he bored once and twice,
And some were playing cards, and some were playing dice,
When the water flowèd in it dazzled their eyes,
And she sank by the Low-lands low.

VI

So the Cabin-boy did swim all to the larboard side,
Saying ‘Captain! take me in, I am drifting with the tide!’
‘I will shoot you! I will kill you!’ the cruel Captain cried,
‘You may sink by the Low-lands low.’

VII

Then the Cabin-boy did swim all to the starboard side,
Saying,‘Messmates, take me in, I am drifting with the tide!’
Then they laid him on the deck, and he closed his eyes and died,
As they sailed by the Low-lands low.

VIII

They sew’d his body tight in an old cow’s hide,
And they cast the gallant cabin-boy out over the ship side,
And left him without more ado to drift with the tide,
And to sink by the Low-lands low.

_133. John Dory_

I

As it fell on a holy-day,
And upon a holy-tide-a,
John Dory bought him an ambling nag,
To Paris for to ride-a.

II

And when John Dory to Paris was come,
A little before the gate-a,
John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted
To let him in thereat-a.

III

The first man that John Dory did meet
Was good King John of France-a;
John Dory could well of his courtesie,
But fell downe in a trance-a.

IV

‘A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king,
For my merry men and for me-a,
And all the churls in merry England,
I’le bring them all bound to thee-a.’

V

And Nichol was then a Cornish man,
A little beside Bohyde-a,
He mann’d him forth a good black barke,
With fifty good oars of a side-a.

VI

‘Run up, my boy, unto the maine top,
And look what thou canst spy-a:’
‘Who ho! who ho! a good ship I do see,
I trow it be John Dory-a.’

VII

They hoist their sailes, both top and top,
The mizzen and all was tride-a,
And every man stood to his lot,
Whatever should betide-a.

VIII

The roring cannons then were plied,
And dub-a-dub went the drum-a;
The braying trumpets loud they cried
To courage both all and some-a.

IX

The grappling-hooks were brought at length,
The brown bill and the sword-a,
John Dory at length, for all his strength,
Was clapt fast under board-a.

_134. Willie Macintosh_

I

‘Turn, Willie Macintosh,
Turn, I bid you;
Gin ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly will head you.’--

II

‘Head me or hang me,
That canna fley me;
I’ll burn Auchindown
Ere the life lea’ me.’

III

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

IV

But coming o’er Cairn Croom,
And looking down, man,
I saw Willie Macintosh
Burn Auchindown, man.

V

‘Bonnie Willie Macintosh,
Whare left ye your men?’--
‘I left them in the Stapler,
But they’ll never come hame.’

VI

‘Bonny Willie Macintosh,
Whare now is your men?’--
‘I left them in the Stapler,
Sleeping in their sheen[1155].’

FOOTNOTES:

[1155] sheen = shoes.

_135. The Bonnie House o’ Airlie_

I

It fell on a day, and a bonnie simmer day,
When green grew aits[1156] and barley,
That there fell out a great dispute
Between Argyll and Airlie.

II

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

III

Lady Ogilvie looks o’er her bower-window,
And O but she looks warely!
And there she spied the great Argyll,
Come to plunder the bonnie house of Airlie.

IV

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

V

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

VI

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

VII

He hath taken her by the middle sae small,
And O but she grat[1157] sairly!
And laid her down by the bonnie burn-side,
Till they plunder’d the castle of Airlie.

VIII

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

IX

‘Gif my gude lord war now at hame,
And he is with his king,
There durst nae a Campbell in a’ Argyll
Set fit[1158] on Airlie green.

X

‘Ten bonnie sons I have borne unto him,
The eleventh ne’er saw his daddy;
But though I had an hunder mair,
I’d gie them a’ to King Charlie!’

FOOTNOTES:

[1156] aits = oats.

[1157] grat = cried.

[1158] fit = foot.

_136. Johnnie of Cockerslee_

I

Johnnie rose up in a May morning,
Call’d for water to wash his hands;
‘Gar loose to me the gude gray dogs,
That are bound wi’ iron bands.’

II

When Johnnie’s mother gat word o’ that,
Her hands for dule she wrang;
‘O Johnnie, for my benison,
To the greenwood dinna gang!

III

‘Eneugh ye hae o’ gude wheat bread,
And eneugh o’ the blude-red wine;
And therefore for nae venison, Johnnie,
I pray ye, stir frae hame.

IV

‘There are Seven For’sters at Hislinton side,
At Hislinton where they dwell,
And for ae drap o’ thy heart’s blude
They wad ride the fords o’ hell.’

V

But Johnnie has buskit his gude bend-bow,
His arrows, ane by ane,
And he has gane to Durrisdeer
To ding the dun deer down.

VI

He’s lookit east, and he’s lookit west,
And a little below the sun;
And there he spied the dun deer lying
Aneath a buss[1159] o’ broom.

VII

Johnnie he shot and the dun deer lap[1160],
And he wounded her on the side;
But atween the wood and the wan water
His hounds they laid her pride.

VIII

And Johnnie has brittled[1161] the deer sae well,
Had out her liver and lungs;
And wi’ these he has feasted his bluidy hounds
As if they had been Earl’s sons.

IX

They ate sae much o’ the venison,
And drank sae much o’ the blude,
That Johnnie and his gude gray hounds
Fell asleep by yonder wood.

X

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

XI

‘What news, what news, ye gray-headed carle?
What news? come tell to me.’--
‘I bring nae news,’ said the gray-headed carle,
‘But what these eyes did see.

XII

‘High up in Braidislee, low down in Braidislee,
And under a buss o’ scroggs[1162],
The bonniest childe that ever I saw
Lay sleeping atween his dogs.

XIII

‘The sark he had upon his back
It was o’ the holland fine,
The doublet he had over that
It was o’ the Lincoln twine[1163].

XIV

‘The buttons that were on his sleeve
Were o’ the gowd sae gude;
The twa gray dogs he lay atween,
Their mouths were dyed wi’ blude.’

XV

Then out and spak’ the First Forester,
The head man owre them a’;
‘If this be Johnnie o’ Cockerslee
Nae nearer will we draw.’

XVI

But up and spak’ the Sixth Forester,
(His sister’s son was he,)
‘If this be Johnnie o’ Cockerslee,
We soon shall gar him dee!’

XVII

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

XVIII

‘O some they count ye well-wight[1164] men,
But I do count ye nane;
For you might well ha’ waken’d me,
And ask’d gin I wad be ta’en.

XIX

‘The wildest wolf in a’ this wood
Wad no ha’ done sae by me;
She ha’ wet her foot i’ the wan water,
And sprinkled it owre my bree[1165],
And if that wad not ha’ waken’d me,
Wad ha’ gone an’ let me be.

XX

‘O bows of yew, if ye be true,
In London where ye were bought;
And, silver strings, value me sma’ things
Till I get this vengeance wrought!
And, fingers five, get up belive[1166]:
And Manhood fail me nought!

XXI

‘Stand stout, stand stout, my noble dogs,
Stand stout and dinna flee!
Stand fast, stand fast, my good gray hounds,
And we will gar them dee!’

XXII

Johnnie has set his back to an aik,
His foot against a stane,
And he has slain the Seven Foresters,
He has slain them a’ but ane.

XXIII

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

XXIV

‘Is there no a bird in a’ this forest
Will do as mickle for me
As dip its wing in the wan water
And straik it on my e’e-bree?

XXV

‘Is there no a bird in a’ this forest
Can sing as I can say,--
Can flee away to my mother’s bower
And tell to fetch Johnnie away?’

XXVI

The starling flew to her window-stane,
It whistled and it sang;
And aye the owre-word o’ the tune
Was, _Johnnie tarries lang!_

XXVII

They made a rod o’ the hazel-bush,
Another o’ the slae-thorn tree,
And mony, mony were the men
At the fetching our Johnnie.

XXVIII

Then out and spak’ his auld mother,
And fast her tears did fa’:
‘Ye wadna be warn’d, my son Johnnie,
Frae the hunting to bide awa’!’

XXIX

Now Johnnie’s gude bend-bow is broke,
And his gude gray dogs are slain;
And his body lies dead in Durrisdeer,
And his hunting it is done.

FOOTNOTES:

[1159] buss = bush, clump.

[1160] lap = leapt.

[1161] brittled = ‘broken’, cut up venison.

[1162] scroggs = stunted, or scraggy, trees.

[1163] twine = thread, texture.

[1164] well-wight = sturdy, here brave.

[1165] bree = brow.

[1166] belive = nimbly, at once.

_137. Kinmont Willie_

I

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

II

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

III

They band his legs beneath the steed,
They tied his hands behind his back;
They guarded him, fivesome on each side,
And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack[1167].

IV

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

V

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

VI

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

VII

‘Fear na ye that, my lord,’ quo’ Willie:
‘By the faith o’ my body, Lord Scroope,’ he said,
‘I never yet lodged in a hostelrie
But I paid my lawing[1168] before I gaed.’

VIII

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

IX

He has ta’en the table wi’ his hand,
He garr’d the red wine spring on hie--
‘Now Christ’s curse on my head,’ he said,
‘But avengèd of Lord Scroope I’ll be!

X

‘O is my basnet a widow’s curch[1169]?
Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?
Or my arm a ladye’s lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly[1170] me!

XI

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

XII

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

XIII

‘O were there war between the lands,
As well I wot that there is nane,
I would slight Carlisle castell high,
Though it were builded of marble stane.

XIV

‘I would set that castell in a low[1171],
And sloken it with English blood!
There’s never a man in Cumberland
Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.

XV

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

XVI

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

XVII

He has call’d him forty Marchmen bauld,
Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;
With spur on heel, and splent[1172] on spauld[1173],
And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.

XVIII

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

XIX

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

XX

And as we cross’d the Bateable Land[1174],
When to the English side we held,
The first o’ men that we met wi’,
Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?

XXI

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

XXII

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

XXIII

‘Where be ye gaun, ye mason lads,
Wi’ a’ your ladders, lang and hie?’--
‘We gang to herry a corbie’s nest,
That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.’--

XXIV

‘Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?’
Quo’ fause Sakelde; ‘come tell to me!’--
Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band,
And the never a word of lear[1175] had he.

XXV

‘Why trespass ye on the English side?
Row-footed[1176] outlaws, stand!’ quo’ he;
The never a word had Dickie to say,
Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.

XXVI

Then on we held for Carlisle toun,
And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we cross’d;
The water was great and meikle of spate,
But the never a horse nor man we lost.

XXVII

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

XXVIII

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

XXIX

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

XXX

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

XXXI

‘Now sound out, trumpets!’ quo’ Buccleuch;
‘Let’s waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!’
Then loud the Warden’s trumpet blew--
_O wha dare meddle wi’ me?_

XXXII

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

XXXIII

They thought King James and a’ his men
Had won the house wi’ bow and spear;
It was but twenty Scots and ten,
That put a thousand in sic a stear[1177]!

XXXIV

Wi’ coulters, and wi’ forehammers[1178],
We gar’d the bars bang merrilie,
Until we came to the inner prison,
Where Willie o’ Kinmont he did lie.

XXXV

And when we cam to the lower prison,
Where Willie o’ Kinmont he did lie--
‘O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,
Upon the morn that thou’s to die?’--

XXXVI

‘O I sleep saft, and I wake aft;
It’s lang since sleeping was fley’d[1179] frae me!
Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,
And a’ gude fellows that spier[1180] for me.’

XXXVII

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

XXXVIII

‘Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!
My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!’ he cried;
‘I’ll pay you for my lodging mail[1181],
When first we meet on the Border side.’--

XXXIX

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

XL

‘O mony a time,’ quo’ Kinmont Willie,
‘I have ridden horse baith wild and wood[1182];
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan
I ween my legs have ne’er bestrode.

XLI

‘And mony a time,’ quo’ Kinmont Willie,
‘I’ve prick’d a horse out oure the furs[1183];
But since the day I back’d a steed,
I never wore sic cumbrous spurs!’

XLII

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

XLIII

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

XLIV

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

XLV

All sore astonish’d stood Lord Scroope,
He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew[1184] his eyes,
When through the water they had gane.

XLVI

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

FOOTNOTES:

[1167] Liddel-rack = a ford on the Liddel.

[1168] lawing = reckoning.

[1169] curch = kerchief, coif.

[1170] lightly = treat disrespectfully.

[1171] low = flame.

[1172] splent = split, or overlapping armour.

[1173] spauld = shoulder, épaule.

[1174] Bateable Land = debateable land; a stretch of frontier between the Solway Firth and Scots Dyke, claimed by both nations.

[1175] lear = lore.

[1176] row-footed = rough-footed.

[1177] stear = stir, commotion.

[1178] forehammers = sledge-hammers.

[1179] fley’d = scared.

[1180] spier = inquire.

[1181] mail = rent.

[1182] wood = mad.

[1183] furs = furrows.

[1184] trew = trust.

_138. Jock o’ the Side_

I

Now Liddesdale has ridden a raid,
But I wat they had better hae staid at hame;
For Michael o’ Winfield he is dead,
And Jock o’ the Side is prisoner ta’en.

II

To Sybill o’ the Side the tidings came;
By the waterside there as she ran
She took her kirtle by the hem
And fast to Mangerton she’s gane.

III

Then up and spoke her Lord Mangerton--
‘What news, what news, my sister to me?’--
‘Bad news, bad news! My Michael is slain;
And they ha’e taken my son Johnie.’

IV

The lords they wrang their fingers white,
Ladyes did pull themsells by the hair,
Crying ‘Alas and well-a day!
For Jock o’ the Side we’ll never see mair!’

V

--‘Ne’er fear, sister Sybill,’ quo’ Mangerton;
‘I have yokes of ousen, eighty and three;
My barns, my byres, and my faulds, a’ weil fill’d.
I’ll part wi’ them a’ ere Johnie shall dee.

VI

‘Three men I’ll send to set him free,
Well harness’d a’ wi’ the best o’ steel;
The English louns may hear, and drie
The weight o’ their braid-swords to feel.

VII

‘The Laird’s Jock ane, the Laird’s Wat twa,
O Hobbie Noble, thou ane maun be!
Thy coat is blue, thou hast been true,
Since England banish’d thee, to me.’

VIII

Now Hobbie was an English man,
In Bewcastle dale was bred and born;
But his misdeeds they were sae great,
They banish’d him ne’er to return.

IX

Lord Mangerton them orders gave,
‘Your horses the wrang way maun be shod,
Like gentlemen ye mauna seem,
But look like corn-caugers[1185] ga’en the road.

X

‘Your armour gude ye mauna shaw,
Nor yet appear like men o’ war;
As country lads be a’ array’d,
Wi’ branks[1186] and brecham[1187] on each mare.’

XI

Their horses are the wrang way shod,
And Hobbie has mounted his grey sae fine;
Wat on his auld horse, Jock on his bey,
And on they rode for the water of Tyne.

XII

But when they came to Cholerton ford
They lighted down by the light o’ the moon,
And a tree they cut, wi’ nogs on each side,
To climb up the wa’ of Newcastle toun.

XIII

But when they cam to Newcastle toun,
And down were alighted at the wa’,
They fand thair tree three ells ower laigh[1188],
They fand their stick baith short and sma’.

XIV

Then up spake the Laird’s ain Jock:
‘There’s naething for’t; the gates we maun force.’--
But when they cam the gate until,
The porter withstood baith men and horse.

XV

His neck in twa the Armstrangs wrang;
Wi’ fute or hand he ne’er play’d pa[1189]!
His life and his keys at anes they hae ta’en,
And cast the body ahint the wa’.

XVI

Now sune they reach Newcastle jail,
And to the prisoner thus they call:
‘Sleeps thou, wakes thou, Jock o’ the Side,
Or art thou weary of thy thrall?’

XVII

Jock answers thus, wi’ dolefu’ tone:
‘Aft, aft I wake--I seldom sleep:
But whae’s this kens my name sae weel,
And thus to mese[1190] my waes does seek?’--

XVIII

Then out and spak the gude Laird’s Jock,
‘Now fear ye na, my billie[1191],’ quo’ he;
‘For here are the Laird’s Jock, the Laird’s Wat,
And Hobbie Noble to set thee free.’--

XIX

‘Now haud thy tongue, my gude Laird’s Jock,
For ever, alas! this canna be;
For if a’ Liddesdale were here the night,
The morn’s the day that I maun dee.

XX

‘Full fifteen stane o’ Spanish iron,
They hae laid a’ right sair on me;
Wi’ locks and keys I am fast bound
In this dungeon dark and dreirie.’

XXI

‘Fear ye na that,’ quo’ the Laird’s Jock;
‘A faint heart ne’er wan a fair ladie;
Work thou within, we’ll work without,
And I’ll be sworn we’ll set thee free.’

XXII

The first strong door that they cam at,
They loosèd it without a key;
The next chain’d door that they cam at,
They garr’d it a’ to flinders flee.

XXIII

The prisoner now upon his back
The Laird’s Jock has gotten up fu’ hie;
And, airns and a’, down the tolbooth[1192] stair,
Wi’ nae sma’ speed and joy brings he.

XXIV

‘Now, Jock, my man,’ quo’ Hobbie Noble,
‘Some o’ his weight ye may lay on me.’--
‘I wat weel no!’ quo’ the Laird’s ain Jock,
‘I count him lighter than a flee.’

XXV

Sae out at the gates they a’ are gane,
The prisoner’s set on horseback hie;
And now wi’ speed they’ve ta’en the gate,
While ilk ane jokes fu’ wantonlie:

XXVI

‘O Jock! sae winsomely ye sit,
Wi’ baith your feet upon ae side;
Sae weel ye’re harneist, and sae trig,
In troth ye sit like ony bride!’

XXVII

The night, tho’ wat, they did na mind,
But hied them on fu’ merrilie,
Until they cam to Cholerton brae,
Where the water ran like mountains hie.

XXVIII

But when they cam to Cholerton ford,
There they met with an auld man;
Says--‘Honest man, will the water ride?
Tell us in haste, if that ye can.’--

XXIX

‘I wat weel no,’ quo’ the gude auld man;
‘I hae lived here thretty years and three;
Nor man nor horse can go ower Tyne,
Except it were a horse of tree.’--

XXX

Then out and spoke the Laird’s saft Wat,
The greatest coward in the companie:
‘Now halt, now halt! we need na try’t;
The day is come we a’ maun die!’--

XXXI

‘Puir faint-hearted thief!’ cried the Laird’s ain Jock,
‘There’ll nae man die but him that’s fie[1193];
I’ll guide ye a’ right safely thro’;
Lift ye the pris’ner on ahint me.’

XXXII

Wi’ that the water they hae ta’en,
By ane’s and twa’s they a’ swam thro’;
‘Here are we a’ safe,’ quo’ the Laird’s Jock,
‘And, puir faint Wat, what think ye now?’

XXXIII

They scarce the other brae had won,
When twenty men they saw pursue;
Frae Newcastle toun they had been sent,
A’ English lads baith stout and true.

XXXIV

But when the Land-sergeant the water saw,
‘It winna ride, my lads,’ says he;
Then cried aloud--‘The prisoner take,
But leave the fetters, I pray, to me!’

XXXV

‘I wat weel no,’ quo’ the Laird’s ain Jock,
‘I’ll keep them, shoon to my mare to be:
My gude bay mare--for I am sure,
She has bought them a’ right dear frae thee.’--

XXXVI

Sae now they are on to Liddesdale,
E’en as fast as they could them hie;
The prisoner is brought to his ain fireside,
And there o’ his airns they mak him free.

XXXVII

‘Now, Jock, my billie,’ quo’ a’ the three,
‘The day is comed thou was to die;
But thou’s as weel at thy ain ingle-side,
Now sitting, I think, ’twixt thee and me.’

FOOTNOTES:

[1185] corn-caugers = corn hucksters.

[1186] branks = wooden halter.

[1187] brecham = straw collar.

[1188] laigh = low.

[1189] pa = paw.

[1190] mese = soothe.

[1191] billie = comrade.

[1192] tolbooth = gaol.

[1193] fie = fey, doomed.

_139. Hobbie Noble_

I

Foul fa’ the breast first treason bred in!
That Liddesdale may safely say,
For in it there was baith meat and drink,
And corn unto our geldings gay.

II

We were stout-hearted men and true,
As England it did often say;
But now we may turn our backs and fly,
Since brave Noble is seld[1194] away.

III

Now Hobbie he was an English man,
And born into Bewcastle dale,
But his misdeeds they were sae great,
They banish’d him to Liddesdale.

IV

At Kershope-foot the tryst was set,
Kershope of the lily lee;
And there was traitour Sim o’ the Mains,
With him a private companie.

V

Then Hobbie has graith’d[1195] his body weel,
I wat wi’ baith good iron and steel;
And he has pull’d out his fringed[1196] grey,
And there, brave Hobbie, he rade him weel.

VI

Then Hobbie is down the water gane,
Even as fast as he may drie;
Tho’ they shou’d a’ brusten and broken their hearts,
Frae that riding-tryst he would not be.

VII

‘Weel may ye be, my feiries[1197] five!
And aye, what is your wills wi’ me?’
Then they cryd a’ wi’ ae consent:
‘Thou’rt welcome here, brave Noble, to me.

VIII

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

IX

‘I dare not with you into England ride,
The Land-sergeant has me at feid[1198];
I know not what evil may betide
For Peter of Whitfield his brother is dead.

X

‘And Antony Shiel he loves not me,
For I gat twa drifts of his sheep;
The great Earl of Whitfield loves me not,
For nae gear frae me he e’er could keep.

XI

‘But will ye stay till the day gae down,
Until the night come owre the grund,
And I’ll be a guide worth ony twa
That may in Liddesdale be found.

XII

‘Tho’ dark the night as pick[1199] and tar,
I’ll guide ye owre yon hills sae hie,
And bring ye a’ in safety back,
If you will be true and follow me.’

XIII

He has guided them owre moss and muir,
O’er hill and houp[1200], and mony a down,
Til they came to the Foulbogshiel,
And there brave Noble he lighted down.

XIV

Then word is gane to the Land-sergeant,
In Askerton where that he lay:
‘The deer that ye hae hunted sae lang
Is seen into the Waste this day.’--

XV

‘Then Hobbie Noble is that deer;
I wat he carries the style fu’ hie!
Aft has he beat your slough-hounds[1201] back,
And set yourselves at little eie[1202].

XVI

‘Gar warn the bows of Hartlie-burn,
See they sharp their arrows on the wa’!
Warn Willeva and Spear Edom,
And see the morn they meet me a’.

XVII

‘Gar meet me on the Rodric-haugh,
And see it be by break o’ day;
And we will on to Conscouthart Green,
For there, I think, we’ll get our prey.’

XVIII

Then Hobbie Noble has dreamit a dream,
In the Foulbogshiel where that he lay;
He thought his horse was aneath him shot,
And he himself got hard away.

XIX

The cocks could craw, and the day could daw’,
And I wat sae even down fell the rain;
Had Hobbie na waken’d at that time,
In the Foulbogshiel he’d been ta’en or slain.

XX

‘Get up, get up, my feiries five,
For I wat here makes a fu’ ill day;
And the warst clock[1203] of this companie
I hope shall cross the Waste this day.

XXI

Now Hobbie 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.

XXII

‘Yet follow me, my feiries five,
And see of me ye keep good array;
And the worst clock of this companie
I hope shall cross the Waste this day.’

XXIII

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

XXIV

Then Hobbie he had but a laddie’s sword,
But he did more than a laddie’s deed;
Till in the midst of Conscouthart Green,
He brake it o’er Jers-a-Wigham’s head.

XXV

Now they have ta’en brave Hobbie Noble,
Wi’ his ain bowstring they band him sae;
And I wat his heart was neer sae sair
As when his ain five band him on the brae.

XXVI

They have ta’en him on for West Carlisle;
They ask’d him if he kenn’d the way;
Whate’er he thought, yet little he said;
He knew that gate as well as they.

XXVII

They hae ta’en him up the Ricker-gate;
The wives they cast their windows wide,
And ilka wife to anither can say,
‘That’s the man loos’d Jock o’ the Side!’--

XXVIII

‘Fy on ye, women! why ca’ ye me man?
For it’s nae man that I’m used like;
I’m but like a forfoughen[1204] hound,
Has been fighting in a dirty syke[1205].’

XXIX

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

XXX

They gave him a wheaten loaf to eat
And after that a can of beer;
Then they cried a’, wi’ ae consent,
‘Eat, brave Noble, and make good cheer!

XXXI

‘Confess my lord’s horse, Hobbie,’ they say,
‘And the morn in Carlisle thou’se no dee.’--
‘How shall I confess them?’ Hobbie says,
‘For I never saw them with mine e’e.’

XXXII

Then Hobbie has sworn a fu’ great aith,
By the day that he was gotten or born,
He never had onything o’ my lord’s
That either ate him grass or corn.

XXXIII

‘Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton!
For I think again I’ll ne’er thee see;
I wad betray nae lad alive,
For a’ the gowd in Christentie.

XXXIV

‘And fare thee well now, Liddesdale,
Baith the hie land and the law!
Keep ye weel frae traitor Mains!
For gowd and gear he’ll sell ye a’.

XXXV

‘I’d rather be ca’d Hobbie Noble,
In Carlisle, where he suffers for his faut,
Before I were ca’d the traitor Mains,
That eats and drinks o’ the meal and maut.’

FOOTNOTES:

[1194] seld = sold.

[1195] graith’d = clad in armour.

[1196] fringed = long-haired at fetlocks.

[1197] feiries = feres, comrades.

[1198] feid = feud.

[1199] pick = pitch.

[1200] houp = ‘hope,’ a hollow between two hills.

[1201] slough-hounds = sleuth-hounds.

[1202] eie = awe.

[1203] clock = lame one, hobbler.

[1204] forfoughen = out-wearied.

[1205] syke = ditch.

_140. Archie of Cawfield_

I

As I was a-walking mine alane,
It was by the dawning of the day,
I heard twa brithers make their mane,
And I listen’d weel what they did say.

II

The youngest to the eldest said:
‘Blythe and merrie how can we be?
There were three brithren of us born,
And ane of us is condemn’d to die.’--

III

‘An ye wad be merrie, an ye wad be sad,
What the better wad billy[1206] Archie be?
Unless I had thirty men to mysell,
And a’ to ride in my companie.

IV

‘Ten to hald the horses’ heads,
And other ten the watch to be,
And ten to break up the strong prison
Where billy Archie he does lie.

V

‘Had I but thirty well-wight[1207] men,
Thirty o’ the best in Christiantie,
I wad go on to fair Dumfries,
I wad loose my brother and set him free.’

VI

Then up and spak him mettled John Ha’
(For leugh o’ Liddesdale[1208] crackit he):
‘An I had eleven men to mysell,
It’s aye the twalt man I wad be.’--

VII

Then up bespak him coarse Ca’field,
(I wot and little gude worth was he):
‘Thirty men is few anew,
And a’ to ride in our companie.’

VIII

There was horsing, horsing in haste,
And cracking of whips out owre the lee;
Until they cam to the Murraywhat,
And they lighted there right speedilie.

IX

‘A smith! a smith!’ Dickie he cries,
‘A smith, a smith, right speedilie,
To turn back the caukers[1209] of our horses’ shoon!
For it’s unkensome[1210] we wad be.

X

‘There lives a smith on the water-side,
Will shoe my little black mare for me;
And I’ve a crown in my pockét,
And every groat of it I wad gie.’--

XI

‘The night is mirk, and it’s very mirk,
And by candle-light I canna weel see;
The night is mirk, and it’s very pit mirk,
And there will never a nail ca’ right for me.’--

XII

‘Shame fa’ you and your trade baith,
Canna beet[1211] a good fellow by your mystery[1212];
But leeze me on[1213] thee, my little black mare,
Thou’s worth thy weight in gold to me.’

XIII

There was horsing, horsing in haste,
And cracking of whips out owre the lee,
Until they came to the Bonshaw wood,
Where they held their council privately.

XIV

Some says, ‘We’ll gang the Annan road;
It is the better road,’ said they;
But up bespake then Dicky Ha’,
The wisest of that company:

XV

Says, ‘Annan road’s a public road,
It’s no the road that makes for me;
But we will through at the Hoddam ford,
It is the better road,’ quo’ he.

XVI

There was horsing, horsing in haste,
And crackin’ of whips out owre the lee;
Until they cam to Dumfries port[1214],
And they lighted there right speedilie.

XVII

‘There’s five of us will hold the horse,
And other five will watchmen be:
But wha’s the man among ye a’,
Will gae to the tolbooth[1215] door wi’ me?’--

XVIII

O up then spak him mettled John Ha’,
(For leugh o’ Liddesdale crackit he):
‘If it should cost my life this very night,
I’ll gae to the tolbooth door wi’ thee.’--

XIX

‘Be of gude cheir, now, Archie, lad!
Be of gude cheir, now, dear billie!
Work thou within, and we without,
And the morn thou’se dine at Ca’field wi’ me!’

XX

O Jockie Ha’ stepp’d to the door,
And he bended low back on his knee,
And he made the bolts that the door hang on,
Loup frae the wa’ right wantonlie.

XXI

He took the prisoner on his back,
And down the tolbooth stair cam he;
The black mare stood ready at the door,
I wot a foot ne’er stirrèd she.

XXII

They laid the links out owre her neck,
And that was her gold twist to be;
And they cam doun thro’ Dumfries toun,
And wow but they cam speedilie.

XXIII

The live-lang night these twelve men rade,
And aye till they were right wearie,
Until they cam to the Murraywhat,
And they lighted there right speedilie.

XXIV

‘A smith! a smith!’ then Dickie he cries,
‘A smith, a smith, right speedilie,
To file the irons frae my dear brither!
For forward, forward we wad be.’--

XXV

They hadna filed a shackle of iron,
A shackle of iron but barely three,
When out and spak young Simon brave:
‘O dinna you see what I do see?

XXVI

‘Lo! yonder comes Lieutenant Gordon,
Wi’ a hundred men in his companie;
This night will be our lyke-wake night,
The morn the day we a’ maun die.’--

XXVII

O there was mounting, mounting in haste,
And cracking of whips out owre the lee;
Until they cam to Annan water,
And it was flowing like the sea.

XXVIII

‘My mare is young and very skeigh[1216],
And in o’ the weil[1217] she will drown me!’--
‘But ye’ll take mine, and I’ll take thine,
And sune through the water we sall be.’

XXIX

Then up and spak him coarse Ca’field
(I wot and little gude worth was he),
‘We had better lose ane than lose a’ the lave[1218];
We’ll lose the prisoner, we’ll gae free.’--

XXX

‘Shame fa’ you and your lands baith!
Wad ye e’en[1219] your lands to your born billy?
But hey! bear up, my bonnie black mare,
And yet thro’ the water we sall be.’--

XXXI

Now they did swim that wan water,
And wow but they swam bonnilie!
Until they cam to the other side,
And they wrang their cloathes right drunkily.

XXXII

‘Come thro’, come thro’, Lieutenant Gordon!
Come thro’ and drink some wine wi’ me!
For there is an ale-house here hard by,
And it shall not cost thee ae penny.’--

XXXIII

‘Throw me my irons,’ quo’ Lieutenant Gordon;
‘I wot they cost me dear eneugh.’--
‘The shame a ma[1220],’ quo’ mettled John Ha’,
‘They’ll be gude shackles to my pleugh.’--

XXXIV

‘Come thro’, come thro’, Lieutenant Gordon!
Come thro’ and drink some wine wi’ me!
Yestreen I was your prisoner,
But now this morning am I free.’

FOOTNOTES:

[1206] billy = brother, comrade.

[1207] well-wight = stout, sturdy.

[1208] For leugh, etc. = He boasted to be of lower Liddesdale. εὔχετο εἶναι.

[1209] caukers = calkins.

[1210] unkensome = unknown.

[1211] beet = abet, aid.

[1212] mystery = craft.

[1213] leeze me on = commend me to.

[1214] port = gate.

[1215] tolbooth = gaol.

[1216] skeigh = shy.

[1217] weil = eddy.

[1218] lave = rest.

[1219] e’en = even, count as equal.

[1220] shame a ma = devil a bit.

_141. Jamie Telfer in the Fair Dodhead_

I

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

II

The first ae guide that they met wi’,
It was high up in Hardhaughswire;
The second guide that they met wi’,
It was laigh[1221] down in Borthwick water.

III

‘What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?’--
‘Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;
But gin ye’ll gae to the fair Dodhead,
Mony a cow’s cauf I’ll let thee see.’

IV

And when they cam to the fair Dodhead,
Right hastily they clam the peel[1222];
They loosed the kye out, ane and a’,
And ranshackled the house right weel.

V

Now Jamie Telfer’s heart was sair,
The tear aye rowing[1223] in his ee;
He pled wi’ the Captain to hae his gear,
Or else revengèd he wad be.

VI

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.’

VII

The sun wasna up, but the moon was down,
It was the gryming[1224] of a new-fa’n snaw,
Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot,
Between the Dodhead and the Stobs’s Ha’.

VIII

And when he cam to the fair tower-yate,
He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,
Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot--
‘Whae’s this that brings the fraye[1225] to me?’--

IX

‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,
And a harried man I think I be!
There’s naething left at the fair Dodhead,
But a waefu’ wife and bairnies three.’

X

‘Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha’,
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.’--

XI

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.

XII

‘My hounds may a’ rin masterless,
My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,
My lord may grip my vassal lands,
For there again maun I never be!’--

XIII

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

XIV

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

XV

‘There’s naething left in the fair Dodhead,
But a greeting wife and bairnies three,
And sax poor ca’s[1226] stand in the sta’,
A’ routing loud for their minnie[1227].’--

XVI

‘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.’

XVII