17. Langum hown.30. thou mayst sune.
17. Langum hown.
30. thou mayst sune.
Of the two editions of this ballad which follow, the first is taken fromThe Scots Musical Museum(p. 312), to which it was contributed by Burns. Burns states that he obtained his copy from oral tradition in Ayrshire, but he had certainly retouched several stanzas (the ninth and tenth, says Cromek), and the third and eighth are entirely of his composition.
The other copy is from theBorder Minstrelsy, and consists of a version "long current in Selkirkshire" (procured for Scott by Mr. William Laidlaw), which also has been slightly improved by the pen of the editor.
In the Appendixwe have placed the story as it occurs in Durfey'sPills to purge Melancholy, and in Ritson'sAncient Songs. The seventeenth volume of the Percy Society Publications furnishes us with a Scottish version in which Sir Hugh is rescued and sent over the sea:Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 73. These, we believe, are all the published forms of this ballad, unless we mention Mr. Allan Cunningham'sréchaufféof Burns, in hisSongs of Scotland, i. 327.
"According totradition," says Mr. Stenhouse, "Robert Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle, about the year 1560, seduced the wife of Hugh Graham, one of those bold and predatory chiefs who so long inhabited what was called the Debatable Land, on the English andScottish border. Graham, being unable to bring so powerful a prelate to justice, in revenge made an excursion into Cumberland, and carried offinter alia, a fine mare belonging to the bishop (!) but being closely pursued by Sir John Scroope, warden of Carlisle, with a party on horseback, was apprehended near Solway Moss, and carried to Carlisle, where he was tried and convicted of felony. Great intercessions were made to save his life; but the bishop, it is said, being determined to remove the chief obstacle to his guilty passions, remained inexorable, and poor Graham fell a victim to his own indiscretion and his wife's infidelity. Anthony Wood observes that there were many changes in this prelate's time, both in church and state, but that he retained his offices and preferments during them all."—Musical Museum, iv. 297.
Our lords are to the mountains gane,A hunting o' the fallow deer,And they hae gripet Hughie Graham,For stealing o' the Bishop's mare.And they hae tied him hand and foot,5And led him up thro' Stirling town;The lads and lasses met him there,Cried, "Hughie Graham, thou art a loun.""O lowse my right hand free," he says,"And put my braid sword in the same,10He's no in Stirling town this day,Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham."Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,As he sat by the bishop's knee,"Five hundred white stots I'll gie you,15If ye'll let Hughie Graham gae free.""O haud your tongue," the bishop says,"And wi' your pleading let me be;For tho' ten Grahams were in his coat,Hughie Graham this day shall die."20Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,As she sat by the bishop's knee;"Five hundred white pence I'll gie you,If ye'll gie Hughie Graham to me.""O haud your tongue now, lady fair,25And wi' your pleading let it be;Altho' ten Grahams were in his coat,It's for my honour he maun die."They've taen him to the gallows knowe,He looked to the gallows tree,30Yet never colour left his cheek,Nor ever did he blin' his e'e.At length he looked round about,To see whatever he could spy,And there he saw his auld father,35And he was weeping bitterly."O haud your tongue, my father dear.And wi' your weeping let it be;Thy weeping's sairer on my heart,40Than a' that they can do to me."And ye may gie my brother JohnMy sword that's bent in the middle clear,And let him come at twelve o'clock,And see me pay the bishop's mare."And ye may gie my brother James45My sword that's bent in the middle brown,And bid him come at four o'clock,And see his brother Hugh cut down."Remember me to Maggy, my wife,The niest time ye gang o'er the moor;50Tell her, she staw the bishop's mare,Tell her, she was the bishop's whore."And ye may tell my kith and kinI never did disgrace their blood,And when they meet the bishop's cloak,55To mak it shorter by the hood."
Our lords are to the mountains gane,A hunting o' the fallow deer,And they hae gripet Hughie Graham,For stealing o' the Bishop's mare.
And they hae tied him hand and foot,5And led him up thro' Stirling town;The lads and lasses met him there,Cried, "Hughie Graham, thou art a loun."
"O lowse my right hand free," he says,"And put my braid sword in the same,10He's no in Stirling town this day,Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham."
Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,As he sat by the bishop's knee,"Five hundred white stots I'll gie you,15If ye'll let Hughie Graham gae free."
"O haud your tongue," the bishop says,"And wi' your pleading let me be;For tho' ten Grahams were in his coat,Hughie Graham this day shall die."20
Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,As she sat by the bishop's knee;"Five hundred white pence I'll gie you,If ye'll gie Hughie Graham to me."
"O haud your tongue now, lady fair,25And wi' your pleading let it be;Altho' ten Grahams were in his coat,It's for my honour he maun die."
They've taen him to the gallows knowe,He looked to the gallows tree,30Yet never colour left his cheek,Nor ever did he blin' his e'e.
At length he looked round about,To see whatever he could spy,And there he saw his auld father,35And he was weeping bitterly.
"O haud your tongue, my father dear.And wi' your weeping let it be;Thy weeping's sairer on my heart,40Than a' that they can do to me.
"And ye may gie my brother JohnMy sword that's bent in the middle clear,And let him come at twelve o'clock,And see me pay the bishop's mare.
"And ye may gie my brother James45My sword that's bent in the middle brown,And bid him come at four o'clock,And see his brother Hugh cut down.
"Remember me to Maggy, my wife,The niest time ye gang o'er the moor;50Tell her, she staw the bishop's mare,Tell her, she was the bishop's whore.
"And ye may tell my kith and kinI never did disgrace their blood,And when they meet the bishop's cloak,55To mak it shorter by the hood."
FromMinstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 110.
Gude Lord Scroope's to the hunting gane,He has ridden o'er moss and muir;And he has grippet Hughie the Græme,For stealing o' the Bishop's mare."Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be!5Here hangs a broadsword by my side;And if that thou canst conquer me,The matter it may soon be tryed.""I ne'er was afraid of a traitor thief;Although thy name be Hughie the Græme,10"I'll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,If God but grant me life and time.""Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope,And deal your blows as hard as you can;It shall be tried within an hour,15Which of us two is the better man."But as they were dealing their blows so free,And both so bloody at the time,Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall,All for to take brave Hughie the Græme.20Then they hae grippit Hughie the Græme,And brought him up through Carlisle town;The lasses and lads stood on the walls,Crying, "Hughie the Græme, thou'se ne'er gae down!"Then they hae chosen a jury of men,25The best that were in Carlisle town;And twelve of them cried out at once,"Hughie the Græme, thou must gae down!"Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume,As he sat by the judge's knee,30"Twenty white owsen, my gude lord,If you'll grant Hughie the Græme to me.""O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume,Forsooth and sae it mauna be;For were there but three Græmes of the name,35They suld be hanged a' for me."'Twas up and spake the gude Lady Hume,As she sat by the judge's knee,"A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge,If you'll grant Hughie the Græme to me."40"O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,Forsooth and so it must na be;Were he but the one Græme of the name,He suld be hanged high for me.""If I be guilty," said Hughie the Græme,45"Of me my friends shall have small talk;"And he has louped fifteen feet and three,Though his hands they were tied behind his back.He looked over his left shoulder,And for to see what he might see;50There was he aware of his auld father,Came tearing his hair most piteouslie."O hald your tongue, my father," he says,"And see that ye dinna weep for me!For they may ravish me o' my life,55But they canna banish me fro' Heaven hie."Fair ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife!The last time we came ower the muir,'Twas thou bereft me of my life,And wi' the Bishop thou play'd the whore.60"Here, Johnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,That is made o' the metal sae fine;And when thou comest to the English side,Remember the death of Hughie the Græme."
Gude Lord Scroope's to the hunting gane,He has ridden o'er moss and muir;And he has grippet Hughie the Græme,For stealing o' the Bishop's mare.
"Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be!5Here hangs a broadsword by my side;And if that thou canst conquer me,The matter it may soon be tryed."
"I ne'er was afraid of a traitor thief;Although thy name be Hughie the Græme,10"I'll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,If God but grant me life and time."
"Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope,And deal your blows as hard as you can;It shall be tried within an hour,15Which of us two is the better man."
But as they were dealing their blows so free,And both so bloody at the time,Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall,All for to take brave Hughie the Græme.20
Then they hae grippit Hughie the Græme,And brought him up through Carlisle town;The lasses and lads stood on the walls,Crying, "Hughie the Græme, thou'se ne'er gae down!"
Then they hae chosen a jury of men,25The best that were in Carlisle town;And twelve of them cried out at once,"Hughie the Græme, thou must gae down!"
Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume,As he sat by the judge's knee,30"Twenty white owsen, my gude lord,If you'll grant Hughie the Græme to me."
"O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume,Forsooth and sae it mauna be;For were there but three Græmes of the name,35They suld be hanged a' for me."
'Twas up and spake the gude Lady Hume,As she sat by the judge's knee,"A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge,If you'll grant Hughie the Græme to me."40
"O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,Forsooth and so it must na be;Were he but the one Græme of the name,He suld be hanged high for me."
"If I be guilty," said Hughie the Græme,45"Of me my friends shall have small talk;"And he has louped fifteen feet and three,Though his hands they were tied behind his back.
He looked over his left shoulder,And for to see what he might see;50There was he aware of his auld father,Came tearing his hair most piteouslie.
"O hald your tongue, my father," he says,"And see that ye dinna weep for me!For they may ravish me o' my life,55But they canna banish me fro' Heaven hie.
"Fair ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife!The last time we came ower the muir,'Twas thou bereft me of my life,And wi' the Bishop thou play'd the whore.60
"Here, Johnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,That is made o' the metal sae fine;And when thou comest to the English side,Remember the death of Hughie the Græme."
In the year 1596, Mr. Salkeld, the deputy of Lord Scroope, the English warden of the West Marches, and Robert Scott, the representative of the Laird of Buccleuch, then keeper of Liddesdale, held a meeting on the border line of the kingdoms, according to the custom of the times, for the purpose of arranging such differences, and redressing such grievances, as either party might have to allege. On these occasions a truce was always proclaimed, inviolable on pain of death, from the day of the meeting to the next day at sunrise. After the conference in question, as William Armstrong of Kinmonth, a notorious freebooter, whose ordinary style was Kinmont Willie, was returning to his home, accompanied by only three or four persons, he was pursued by a couple of hundred Englishmen, taken prisoner, and in contravention of the truce, lodged in the castle of Carlisle. The Laird of Buccleuch sought to obtain the enfranchisement of his client and retainer, through the mediation, first of the English warden, and then of the Scottish ambassador. Receiving no satisfaction, he took the matter into his own hands, raised a party of two hundred horse, surprised the castle of Carlisle, and carried off the prisoner by main force. This dashing achievement was performed on the 13th of April, 1596.
According to a rhymester who celebrated the daring feat of Buccleuch about a hundred years later, Kinmont Willie was a descendant of Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie.
Interesting details of the surprise of the castle, and further notices of Kinmont Willie are given by Scott in theBorder Minstrelsy(ii. 32), where the ballad was first published.
"This ballad is preserved," says Scott, "on the West Borders, but much mangled by reciters, so that some conjectural emendations have been absolutely necessary to render it intelligible."
O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde?O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroope?How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie,OnHaribeeto hang him up?Had Willie had but twenty men,5But twenty men as stout as he,Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en,Wi' eight score in his cumpanie.They band his legs beneath the steed,They tied his hands behind his back;10They guarded him, fivesome on each side,And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.They led him thro' theLiddel-rack,And also thro' the Carlisle sands;They brought him to Carlisle castell,15To be at my Lord Scroope's commands."My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,And whae will dare this deed avow?Or answer by the Border law?Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?"20"Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver!There's never a Scot shall set thee free:Before ye cross my castle yate,I trow ye shall take farewell o' me.""Fear na ye that, my lord," quo' Willie:25"By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope," he said,"I never yet lodged in a hostelrie,But I paid my lawing before I gaed."Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,In Branksome Ha' where that he lay,30That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie,Between the hours of night and day.He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,He garr'd the red wine spring on hie—"Now Christ's curse on my head," he said,35"But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be!"O is my basnet a widow's curch?Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,That an English lord should lightly me!40"And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,Against the truce of Border tide,And forgotten that the bauld BuccleuchIs keeper here on the Scottish side?"And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,45Withouten either dread or fear,And forgotten that the bauld BuccleuchCan back a steed, or shake a spear?"O were there war between the lands,As well I wot that there is none,50I would slight Carlisle castell high,Though it were builded of marble stone."I would set that castell in a low,And sloken it with English blood!There's never a man in Cumberland,55Should ken where Carlisle castell stood."But since nae war's between the lands,And there is peace, and peace should be;I'll neither harm English lad or lass,And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!"60He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,I trow they were of his ain name,Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'dThe Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,65Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;With spur on heel, and splent on spauld,And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.There were five and five before them a',Wi' hunting-horns and bugles bright:70And five and five came wi' Buccleuch,Like warden's men, array'd for fight.And five and five, like a mason gang,That carried the ladders lang and hie;And five and five, like broken men;75And so they reach'd theWoodhouselee.And as we cross'd the Bateable Land,When to the English side we held,The first o' men that we met wi',Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?80"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?"Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!""We go to hunt an English stag,Has trespass'd on the Scots countrie.""Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?"85Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell me true!""We go to catch a rank reiver,Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch.""Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads,Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie?"90"We gang to herry a corbie's nest,That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.""Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?"Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band,95And the nevir a word of lear had he."Why trespass ye on the English side?Row-footed outlaws, stand!" quo' he;The nevir a word had Dickie to say,Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.100Then on we held for Carlisle toun,And at Staneshaw-bank theEdenwe cross'd;The water was great and meikle of spait,But the nevir a horse nor man we lost.And when we reach'd the Staneshaw-bank,105The wind was rising loud and hie;And there the Laird garr'd leave our steeds,For fear that they should stamp and nie.And when we left the Staneshaw-bank,The wind began full loud to blaw;110But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,When we came beneath the castle wa'.We crept on knees, and held our breath,Till we placed the ladders against the wa';And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell115To mount the first before us a'.He has ta'en the watchman by the throat,He flung him down upon the lead—"Had there not been peace between our lands,Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!120"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch;"Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!"Then loud the warden's trumpet blew—O wha dare meddle wi' me?Then speedilie to wark we gaed,125And raised the slogan ane and a',And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,And so we wan to the castle ha'.They thought King James and a' his menHad won the house wi' bow and spear;130It was but twenty Scots and ten,That put a thousand in sic a stear!Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers,We garr'd the bars bang merrilie,Until we came to the inner prison,135Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.And when we cam to the lower prison,Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie—"O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,Upon the morn that thou's to die?"140"O I sleep saft, and I wake aft,It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me;Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,And a' gude fellows that spier for me."Then Red Rowan has hente him up,145The starkest man in Teviotdale—"Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell."Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried—150"I'll pay you for my lodging maill,When first we meet on the Border side."Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,We bore him down the ladder lang;At every stride Red Rowan made,155I wot the Kinmont's airns play'd clang."O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,"I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;But a rougher beast than Red RowanI ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.160"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,"I've prick'd a horse out oure the furs;But since the day I back'd a steed,I never wore sic cumbrous spurs."We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,165When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,And a thousand men on horse and footCam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden Water,Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim,170And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,And safely swam them through the stream.He turn'd him on the other side,And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he—"If ye like na my visit in merry England,175In fair Scotland come visit me!"All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope,He stood as still as rock of stane;He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,When through the water they had gane.180"He is either himsell a devil frae hell,Or else his mother a witch maun be;I wadna have ridden that wan waterFor a' the gowd in Christentie."
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,OnHaribeeto hang him up?
Had Willie had but twenty men,5But twenty men as stout as he,Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en,Wi' eight score in his cumpanie.
They band his legs beneath the steed,They tied his hands behind his back;10They guarded him, fivesome on each side,And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.
They led him thro' theLiddel-rack,And also thro' the Carlisle sands;They brought him to Carlisle castell,15To be at my Lord Scroope's commands.
"My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,And whae will dare this deed avow?Or answer by the Border law?Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?"20
"Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver!There's never a Scot shall set thee free:Before ye cross my castle yate,I trow ye shall take farewell o' me."
"Fear na ye that, my lord," quo' Willie:25"By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope," he said,"I never yet lodged in a hostelrie,But I paid my lawing before I gaed."
Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,In Branksome Ha' where that he lay,30That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie,Between the hours of night and day.
He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,He garr'd the red wine spring on hie—"Now Christ's curse on my head," he said,35"But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be!
"O is my basnet a widow's curch?Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,That an English lord should lightly me!40
"And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,Against the truce of Border tide,And forgotten that the bauld BuccleuchIs keeper here on the Scottish side?
"And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,45Withouten either dread or fear,And forgotten that the bauld BuccleuchCan back a steed, or shake a spear?
"O were there war between the lands,As well I wot that there is none,50I would slight Carlisle castell high,Though it were builded of marble stone.
"I would set that castell in a low,And sloken it with English blood!There's never a man in Cumberland,55Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.
"But since nae war's between the lands,And there is peace, and peace should be;I'll neither harm English lad or lass,And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!"60
He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,I trow they were of his ain name,Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'dThe Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.
He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,65Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;With spur on heel, and splent on spauld,And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.
There were five and five before them a',Wi' hunting-horns and bugles bright:70And five and five came wi' Buccleuch,Like warden's men, array'd for fight.
And five and five, like a mason gang,That carried the ladders lang and hie;And five and five, like broken men;75And so they reach'd theWoodhouselee.
And as we cross'd the Bateable Land,When to the English side we held,The first o' men that we met wi',Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?80
"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?"Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!""We go to hunt an English stag,Has trespass'd on the Scots countrie."
"Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?"85Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell me true!""We go to catch a rank reiver,Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch."
"Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads,Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie?"90"We gang to herry a corbie's nest,That wons not far frae Woodhouselee."
"Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?"Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band,95And the nevir a word of lear had he.
"Why trespass ye on the English side?Row-footed outlaws, stand!" quo' he;The nevir a word had Dickie to say,Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.100
Then on we held for Carlisle toun,And at Staneshaw-bank theEdenwe cross'd;The water was great and meikle of spait,But the nevir a horse nor man we lost.
And when we reach'd the Staneshaw-bank,105The wind was rising loud and hie;And there the Laird garr'd leave our steeds,For fear that they should stamp and nie.
And when we left the Staneshaw-bank,The wind began full loud to blaw;110But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,When we came beneath the castle wa'.
We crept on knees, and held our breath,Till we placed the ladders against the wa';And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell115To mount the first before us a'.
He has ta'en the watchman by the throat,He flung him down upon the lead—"Had there not been peace between our lands,Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!120
"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch;"Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!"Then loud the warden's trumpet blew—O wha dare meddle wi' me?
Then speedilie to wark we gaed,125And raised the slogan ane and a',And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,And so we wan to the castle ha'.
They thought King James and a' his menHad won the house wi' bow and spear;130It was but twenty Scots and ten,That put a thousand in sic a stear!
Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers,We garr'd the bars bang merrilie,Until we came to the inner prison,135Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.
And when we cam to the lower prison,Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie—"O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,Upon the morn that thou's to die?"140
"O I sleep saft, and I wake aft,It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me;Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,And a' gude fellows that spier for me."
Then Red Rowan has hente him up,145The starkest man in Teviotdale—"Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell.
"Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried—150"I'll pay you for my lodging maill,When first we meet on the Border side."
Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,We bore him down the ladder lang;At every stride Red Rowan made,155I wot the Kinmont's airns play'd clang.
"O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,"I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;But a rougher beast than Red RowanI ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.160
"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,"I've prick'd a horse out oure the furs;But since the day I back'd a steed,I never wore sic cumbrous spurs."
We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,165When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,And a thousand men on horse and footCam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.
Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden Water,Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim,170And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,And safely swam them through the stream.
He turn'd him on the other side,And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he—"If ye like na my visit in merry England,175In fair Scotland come visit me!"
All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope,He stood as still as rock of stane;He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,When through the water they had gane.180
"He is either himsell a devil frae hell,Or else his mother a witch maun be;I wadna have ridden that wan waterFor a' the gowd in Christentie."
4. Haribee is the place of execution at Carlisle.—S.13. The Liddel-rack is a ford on the Liddel.—S.76. A house on the Border, belonging to Buccleuch.—S.102. Eden has been substituted for Eske, the latter name being inconsistent with geography.—S.124. The name of a Border tune.—S.
4. Haribee is the place of execution at Carlisle.—S.
13. The Liddel-rack is a ford on the Liddel.—S.
76. A house on the Border, belonging to Buccleuch.—S.
102. Eden has been substituted for Eske, the latter name being inconsistent with geography.—S.
124. The name of a Border tune.—S.
From Caw'sPoetical Museum, p. 22.
The personage from whom this ballad is named was jester to Lord Scroop, who was warden of the West Marches of England from 1590 to 1603. The Laird's Jock, that is John, the son of the Laird of Mangerton, "appears as one of themen of namein Liddesdale, in the list of the Border Clans, 1597."
Dick o' the Cowis closely connected withJock o' the SideandHobie Noble, which follow shortly after. All three were first printed in Caw'sMuseum, and seem to have been contributed by a Mr. Elliot, a Liddesdale gentleman, to whom Sir W. Scott acknowledges many obligations. We are told that bothDick o' the CowandJock o' the Sidewere until lately so popular in Liddesdale with all classes of people, that they were invariably sung, from beginning to end, at every festive meeting.
The ballad ofDick o' the Cowwas well known in England as early as 1596.
"An allusion to it likewise occurs inParrot'sLaquei Ridiculosi, orSpringes for Woodcocks; London, 1613.
"Owenus wondreth since he came to Wales,What the description of this isle should be,That nere had seen but mountains, hills, and dales,Yet would he boast, and stand on pedigree,From Rice ap Richard, sprung fromDick a Cow,Be cod, was right gud gentleman, look ye now!"
"Owenus wondreth since he came to Wales,What the description of this isle should be,That nere had seen but mountains, hills, and dales,Yet would he boast, and stand on pedigree,From Rice ap Richard, sprung fromDick a Cow,Be cod, was right gud gentleman, look ye now!"
Epigr. 76.—Scott.
Now Liddisdale has lyan lang in,There is nae riding there at a';The horses are grown sae lidder fat,They downa stur out o' the sta'.Then Johnie Armstrong to Willie can say—5"Billie, a riding then we'll gae;England and us has been lang at a feid;Ablins we'll hit on some bootie."Then they're com'd on to Hutton Ha',They rade the proper place about;10But the laird he was the wiser man,For he had left nae gear without.Then he had left nae gear to steal,Except sax sheep upon a lee:Quo' Johnie—"I'd rather in England die,15Ere thir sax sheep gae t' Liddisdale wi' me."But how ca'd they the man we last met,Billie, as we cam o'er the know?""That same he is an innocent fool,And some men ca' him Dick o' the Cow."20"That fool has three as good ky o' his ain,As there's in a' Cumberland, billie," quo' he:"Betide me life, betide me death,These three ky shall gae t' Liddisdale wi' me."Then they're com'd on to the poor fool's house,25And they hae broken his wa's sae wide;They have loos'd out Dick o' the Cow's three ky,And tane three co'erlets aff his wife's bed.Then on the morn, whan the day was light,The shouts and cries rose loud and hie:30"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,"And o' thy crying let me be!"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,"And of thy crying let me be;And aye that where thou wants a cow,35In good sooth I'll bring thee three."Then Dickie's com'd on for's lord and master,And I wat a dreirie fool was he;"Now had thy tongue, my fool," he says,"For I may not stand to jest wi' thee."40"Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord!" quo' Dickie,"For nae sic jesting grees wi' me;Liddisdale's been i' my house last night,And they hae tane my three ky frae me."But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,45To be your poor fool and your leal,Unless ye gi' me leave, my lord,T' gae t' Liddisdale and steal.""I gi' thee leave, my fool," he says;"Thou speakest against my honour and me,50Unless thou gi' me thy trowth and thy hand,Thou'lt steal frae nane but wha sta' frae thee.""There is my trowth, and my right hand!My head shall hang onHairibee,I'll near cross Carlisle sands again,55If I steal frae a man but wha sta' frae me."Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,And I wat a merry fool was he;He's bought a bridle and a pair o' new spurs,And pack'd them up in his breek thigh.60Then Dickie's come on forPudding-burn,E'en as fast as he might drie;Now Dickie's come on for Pudding-burn,Where there were thirty Armstrongs and three."O what's this com'd o' me now?" quo' Dickie;65"What meikle wae's this happen'd o' me? quo' he;Where here is but ae innocent fool,And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!"Yet he's com'd up to the ha' amang them a',Sae weil he's became his curtesie!70"Weil may ye be, my good Laird's Jock!But the de'il bless a' your companie."I'm come to 'plain o' your man, fair Johnie Armstrong,And syne o' his billie Willie," quo' he;"How they hae been i' my house the last night,75And they hae tane my three ky frae me."Quo' Johnie Armstrong, "We will him hang;""Na then," quo' Willie, "we'll him slae;"But up and bespake anither young man,"We'll gie 'im his batts, and let him gae."80Then up and bespake the good Laird's Jock,The best falla in a' the companie;"Sit thy ways down a little while, Dickie,And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gi' thee."But Dickie's heart it grew sae great,85That ne'er a bit o't he dought to eat;Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,Where a' the night he thought for to sleep.Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,Where a' the night he thought for to ly;90And a' the prayers the poor fool pray'd,"I wish I had amense for my ain three ky!"Then it was the use of Pudding-burn,And thehouse of Mangerton, all haill,These that cam na at the first ca',95They got nae mair meat t' the neist meal.The lads, that hungry and weary were,Aboon the door-head they hang the key;Dickie he took good notice to that,Says—"There's a bootie yonder for me."100Then Dickie into the stable is gane,Where there stood thirty horses and three;He hastied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,A' these horses but barely three.He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,105A' these horses but barely three;He's loupen on ane, tane anither in hand,And out at the door and gane is Dickie.Then on the morn, whan the day grew light,The shouts and cries rose loud and hie—110"O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock,"Tell me the truth and the veritie!""O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock;"See unto me ye dinna lie!"—"Dickie's been i' the stable last night,115And has my brother's horse and mine frae me.""Ye wad ne'er be tall'd," quo' the good Laird's Jock;"Have ye not found my tales fu' leel?Ye wad ne'er out o' England bide,Till crooked, and blind, and a' wad steal."120"But lend me thy bay," Johnie Armstrong can say;"There's nae horse loose in the stable but he;And I'll either bring Dick o' the Cow again,Or the day is come that he shall die.""To lend thee my bay!" the Laird's Jock can say,125"He's worth baith goud and good monie:Dick o' the Cow has away twa horse:I wish na thou may make him three."He's tane the laird's jack on his back,A twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;130He's tane the steel cap on his head,And on is he gane to follow Dickie.Then Dickie was na a mile aff the town,I wat a mile but barely three,Till he's o'ertane by Johnie Armstrong,135Hand for hand, onCannobie lee."Abide, abide now, Dickie, than,The day is come that thou maun die;"Then Dickie look'd o'er his left shoulder,"Johnie, has thou any moe in companie?140"There is a preacher in our chapel,And a' the lee-lang day teaches he:Whan day is gane and night is come,There's ne'er ae word I mark but three."The first and second is—Faith and Conscience;The third—Ne'er let a traitour free:146But, Johnie, what faith and conscience hadst thou,Whan thou took my three ky frae me?"And when thou had tane away my three ky,Thou thought in thy heart thou was no well sped,150But sent thy billie Willie o'er the know,And he took three co'erlets aff my wife's bed."Then Johnie let a spear fa' laigh by his thigh,Thought weil to hae slain the innocent, I trow;But the powers above were mair than he,155For he ran but the poor fool's jerkin through.Together they ran, or ever they blan,This was Dickie the fool and he;Dickie coud na win to him wi' the blade o' the sword,But feld 'im wi' the plumet under the eie.160Now Dickie has feld fair Johnie Armstrong,The prettiest man in the south countrie;"Gramercy!" then can Dickie say,"I had but twa horse, thou has made me three."He has tane the laird's jack aff his back,165The twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;He has tane the steel cap aff his head—"Johnie, I'll tell my master I met wi' thee."When Johnie wakened out o' his dream,I wat a drierie man was he:170"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?The shame gae in thy companie!"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?The shame gae in thy companie!For if I should live this hundred years,175I ne'er shall fight wi' a fool after thee."Then Dickie's come hame to lord and master,E'en as fast as he may drie;"Now, Dickie, I'll neither eat nor drink,Till hie hanged thou shalt be."180"The shame speed the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;"That was no the promise ye made to me!For I'd ne'er gane t' Liddisdale t' steal,Till I had got my leave at thee.""But what gard thou steal the Laird's Jock's horse?185And, limmer, what gard thou steal him?" quo' he;"For lang might thou in Cumberland dwelt,Ere the Laird's Jock had stawn frae thee.""Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!And e'en sae loud as I hear ye lie!190I wan him frae his man, fair Johnie Armstrong,Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee."There's the jack was on his back,This twa-handed sword that hang laigh by his thigh,And there's the steel cap was on his head;195I hae a' these takens to let thee see.""If that be true thou to me tells,(I trow thou dare na tell a lie,)I'll gi' thee twenty punds for the good horse,Weil tel'd in thy cloak lap shall be.200"And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,To maintain thy wife and children three;And that may be as good, I think,As ony twa o' thine might be.""The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;205"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."He's gi'en him thirty punds for the good horse,All in goud and good monie;210He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,To maintain his wife and children three.Then Dickie's came down through Carlisle town,E'en as fast as he might drie:The first o' men that he met with,215Was my Lord's brother, Bayliff Glozenburrie."Weil may ye be, my gude Ralph Scroope!"—"Welcome, my brother's fool!" quo' he:"Where did thou get fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?""Where did I get him, but steal him," quo' he.220"But wilt thou sell me fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?" quo' he:"Aye, and tell me the monie on my cloak lap:For there's no ae fardin I'll trust thee.""I'll gi' thee fifteen punds for the good horse,225Weil tel'd on thy cloak lap shall be;And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,To maintain thy wife and children three.""The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?" quo' he;230"I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."He's gi'en him thirty punds for the gude horse,All in goud and good monie;He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,235To maintain his wife and children three.Then Dickie lap a loup fu' hie,And I wat a loud laugh laughed he—"I wish the neck o' the third horse were broken,For I hae a better o' my ain, if better can be."240Then Dickie's com'd hame to his wife again,Judge ye how the poor fool sped;He has gi'en her three score English punds,For the three auld co'erlets was tane aff her bed."Hae, tak thee these twa as good ky,245I trow, as a' thy three might be;And yet here is [a] white-footed nagie,I think he'll carry baith thee and me."But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;The Armstrongs they'll hang me hie:"—250So Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,And [at] Burgh under Stanmuir there dwells he.
Now Liddisdale has lyan lang in,There is nae riding there at a';The horses are grown sae lidder fat,They downa stur out o' the sta'.
Then Johnie Armstrong to Willie can say—5"Billie, a riding then we'll gae;England and us has been lang at a feid;Ablins we'll hit on some bootie."
Then they're com'd on to Hutton Ha',They rade the proper place about;10But the laird he was the wiser man,For he had left nae gear without.
Then he had left nae gear to steal,Except sax sheep upon a lee:Quo' Johnie—"I'd rather in England die,15Ere thir sax sheep gae t' Liddisdale wi' me.
"But how ca'd they the man we last met,Billie, as we cam o'er the know?""That same he is an innocent fool,And some men ca' him Dick o' the Cow."20
"That fool has three as good ky o' his ain,As there's in a' Cumberland, billie," quo' he:"Betide me life, betide me death,These three ky shall gae t' Liddisdale wi' me."
Then they're com'd on to the poor fool's house,25And they hae broken his wa's sae wide;They have loos'd out Dick o' the Cow's three ky,And tane three co'erlets aff his wife's bed.
Then on the morn, whan the day was light,The shouts and cries rose loud and hie:30"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,"And o' thy crying let me be!
"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,"And of thy crying let me be;And aye that where thou wants a cow,35In good sooth I'll bring thee three."
Then Dickie's com'd on for's lord and master,And I wat a dreirie fool was he;"Now had thy tongue, my fool," he says,"For I may not stand to jest wi' thee."40
"Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord!" quo' Dickie,"For nae sic jesting grees wi' me;Liddisdale's been i' my house last night,And they hae tane my three ky frae me.
"But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,45To be your poor fool and your leal,Unless ye gi' me leave, my lord,T' gae t' Liddisdale and steal."
"I gi' thee leave, my fool," he says;"Thou speakest against my honour and me,50Unless thou gi' me thy trowth and thy hand,Thou'lt steal frae nane but wha sta' frae thee."
"There is my trowth, and my right hand!My head shall hang onHairibee,I'll near cross Carlisle sands again,55If I steal frae a man but wha sta' frae me."
Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,And I wat a merry fool was he;He's bought a bridle and a pair o' new spurs,And pack'd them up in his breek thigh.60
Then Dickie's come on forPudding-burn,E'en as fast as he might drie;Now Dickie's come on for Pudding-burn,Where there were thirty Armstrongs and three.
"O what's this com'd o' me now?" quo' Dickie;65"What meikle wae's this happen'd o' me? quo' he;Where here is but ae innocent fool,And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!"
Yet he's com'd up to the ha' amang them a',Sae weil he's became his curtesie!70"Weil may ye be, my good Laird's Jock!But the de'il bless a' your companie.
"I'm come to 'plain o' your man, fair Johnie Armstrong,And syne o' his billie Willie," quo' he;"How they hae been i' my house the last night,75And they hae tane my three ky frae me."
Quo' Johnie Armstrong, "We will him hang;""Na then," quo' Willie, "we'll him slae;"But up and bespake anither young man,"We'll gie 'im his batts, and let him gae."80
Then up and bespake the good Laird's Jock,The best falla in a' the companie;"Sit thy ways down a little while, Dickie,And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gi' thee."
But Dickie's heart it grew sae great,85That ne'er a bit o't he dought to eat;Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,Where a' the night he thought for to sleep.
Then Dickie was ware o' an auld peat-house,Where a' the night he thought for to ly;90And a' the prayers the poor fool pray'd,"I wish I had amense for my ain three ky!"
Then it was the use of Pudding-burn,And thehouse of Mangerton, all haill,These that cam na at the first ca',95They got nae mair meat t' the neist meal.
The lads, that hungry and weary were,Aboon the door-head they hang the key;Dickie he took good notice to that,Says—"There's a bootie yonder for me."100
Then Dickie into the stable is gane,Where there stood thirty horses and three;He hastied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,A' these horses but barely three.
He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,105A' these horses but barely three;He's loupen on ane, tane anither in hand,And out at the door and gane is Dickie.
Then on the morn, whan the day grew light,The shouts and cries rose loud and hie—110"O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock,"Tell me the truth and the veritie!"
"O where's that thief?" quo' the good Laird's Jock;"See unto me ye dinna lie!"—"Dickie's been i' the stable last night,115And has my brother's horse and mine frae me."
"Ye wad ne'er be tall'd," quo' the good Laird's Jock;"Have ye not found my tales fu' leel?Ye wad ne'er out o' England bide,Till crooked, and blind, and a' wad steal."120
"But lend me thy bay," Johnie Armstrong can say;"There's nae horse loose in the stable but he;And I'll either bring Dick o' the Cow again,Or the day is come that he shall die."
"To lend thee my bay!" the Laird's Jock can say,125"He's worth baith goud and good monie:Dick o' the Cow has away twa horse:I wish na thou may make him three."
He's tane the laird's jack on his back,A twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;130He's tane the steel cap on his head,And on is he gane to follow Dickie.
Then Dickie was na a mile aff the town,I wat a mile but barely three,Till he's o'ertane by Johnie Armstrong,135Hand for hand, onCannobie lee.
"Abide, abide now, Dickie, than,The day is come that thou maun die;"Then Dickie look'd o'er his left shoulder,"Johnie, has thou any moe in companie?140
"There is a preacher in our chapel,And a' the lee-lang day teaches he:Whan day is gane and night is come,There's ne'er ae word I mark but three.
"The first and second is—Faith and Conscience;The third—Ne'er let a traitour free:146But, Johnie, what faith and conscience hadst thou,Whan thou took my three ky frae me?
"And when thou had tane away my three ky,Thou thought in thy heart thou was no well sped,150But sent thy billie Willie o'er the know,And he took three co'erlets aff my wife's bed."
Then Johnie let a spear fa' laigh by his thigh,Thought weil to hae slain the innocent, I trow;But the powers above were mair than he,155For he ran but the poor fool's jerkin through.
Together they ran, or ever they blan,This was Dickie the fool and he;Dickie coud na win to him wi' the blade o' the sword,But feld 'im wi' the plumet under the eie.160
Now Dickie has feld fair Johnie Armstrong,The prettiest man in the south countrie;"Gramercy!" then can Dickie say,"I had but twa horse, thou has made me three."
He has tane the laird's jack aff his back,165The twa-handed sword that hang by his thigh;He has tane the steel cap aff his head—"Johnie, I'll tell my master I met wi' thee."
When Johnie wakened out o' his dream,I wat a drierie man was he:170"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?The shame gae in thy companie!
"And is thou gane, now, Dickie, than?The shame gae in thy companie!For if I should live this hundred years,175I ne'er shall fight wi' a fool after thee."
Then Dickie's come hame to lord and master,E'en as fast as he may drie;"Now, Dickie, I'll neither eat nor drink,Till hie hanged thou shalt be."180
"The shame speed the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;"That was no the promise ye made to me!For I'd ne'er gane t' Liddisdale t' steal,Till I had got my leave at thee."
"But what gard thou steal the Laird's Jock's horse?185And, limmer, what gard thou steal him?" quo' he;"For lang might thou in Cumberland dwelt,Ere the Laird's Jock had stawn frae thee."
"Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!And e'en sae loud as I hear ye lie!190I wan him frae his man, fair Johnie Armstrong,Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.
"There's the jack was on his back,This twa-handed sword that hang laigh by his thigh,And there's the steel cap was on his head;195I hae a' these takens to let thee see."
"If that be true thou to me tells,(I trow thou dare na tell a lie,)I'll gi' thee twenty punds for the good horse,Weil tel'd in thy cloak lap shall be.200
"And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,To maintain thy wife and children three;And that may be as good, I think,As ony twa o' thine might be."
"The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;205"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."
He's gi'en him thirty punds for the good horse,All in goud and good monie;210He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,To maintain his wife and children three.
Then Dickie's came down through Carlisle town,E'en as fast as he might drie:The first o' men that he met with,215Was my Lord's brother, Bayliff Glozenburrie.
"Weil may ye be, my gude Ralph Scroope!"—"Welcome, my brother's fool!" quo' he:"Where did thou get fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?""Where did I get him, but steal him," quo' he.220
"But wilt thou sell me fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?" quo' he:"Aye, and tell me the monie on my cloak lap:For there's no ae fardin I'll trust thee."
"I'll gi' thee fifteen punds for the good horse,225Weil tel'd on thy cloak lap shall be;And I'll gi' thee ane o' my best milk-ky,To maintain thy wife and children three."
"The shame speed the liers, my lord!" quo' Dickie;"Trow ye aye to make a fool o' me?" quo' he;230"I'll either hae thirty punds for the good horse,Or he's gae t' Mortan fair wi' me."
He's gi'en him thirty punds for the gude horse,All in goud and good monie;He has gi'en him ane o' his best milk-ky,235To maintain his wife and children three.
Then Dickie lap a loup fu' hie,And I wat a loud laugh laughed he—"I wish the neck o' the third horse were broken,For I hae a better o' my ain, if better can be."240
Then Dickie's com'd hame to his wife again,Judge ye how the poor fool sped;He has gi'en her three score English punds,For the three auld co'erlets was tane aff her bed.
"Hae, tak thee these twa as good ky,245I trow, as a' thy three might be;And yet here is [a] white-footed nagie,I think he'll carry baith thee and me.
"But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;The Armstrongs they'll hang me hie:"—250So Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,And [at] Burgh under Stanmuir there dwells he.