FOOTNOTES:

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.

[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.

ITheGeorge-Aloe, and theSweepstake, too,With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no,O, there were two Merchant-men, a sailing for SafeeAnd alongst the Coast of Barbarye.IITheGeorge-Aloecame to anchor in the bay,With hey, &c.But the jollySweepstakekept on her way,And alongst, &c.IIIThey 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.VIIThey laid us aboard on the Starboard side,With hey, &c.And they threw us into the Sea so wide,And alongst, &c.VIIIWhen tidings to theGeorge-Aloecame,With hey, &c.That the jollySweepstakeby 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.XIIWe 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.XVIThe first good shot that theGeorge-Aloeshot,With hey, &c.He made the Frenchman’s heart sore afraid,And alongst, &c.XVIIThe second shot theGeorge-Aloedid 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.XXIWe laid them aboard the larboard side,With hey, &c.And we threw them into the Sea so wide,And alongst, &c.XXIILord, how it grieved our hearts full Sore,With hey, &c.To see the drowned Frenchmen to swim along the shore!And alongst, &c.XXIIINow 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.

TheGeorge-Aloe, and theSweepstake, too,With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no,O, there were two Merchant-men, a sailing for SafeeAnd alongst the Coast of Barbarye.

TheGeorge-Aloecame to anchor in the bay,With hey, &c.But the jollySweepstakekept on her way,And alongst, &c.

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.

‘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.

‘We are Englishmen, and bound for Safee,’—With hey, &c.‘Ay, and we are Frenchmen, and war upon the sea,And alongst, &c.

‘Amaine, Amaine, you English dogs, hail!’—With, hey, &c.‘Come aboard you French swads[1154], and strike down your sayle,’And alongst, &c.

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

When tidings to theGeorge-Aloecame,With hey, &c.That the jollySweepstakeby a Frenchman was ta’en,And alongst, &c.

‘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.

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

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

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.

‘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.

‘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.

‘Amaine, Amaine, you English Dogges, hail!’—With hey, &c.‘Come aboard, you French rogues, and strike down your sayl!’And alongst, &c.

The first good shot that theGeorge-Aloeshot,With hey, &c.He made the Frenchman’s heart sore afraid,And alongst, &c.

The second shot theGeorge-Aloedid afford,With hey, &c.He struck their main-mast over the board,And alongst, &c.

‘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?

‘We laid them aboard the starboard side,With hey, &c.And we threw them into the Sea so wide,’—And alongst, &c.

‘Such mercy as you have shewed unto them,With hey, &c.Then the like mercy shall you have again,’—And alongst, &c.

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

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

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.

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

IA ship I have got in the North CountryAnd she goes by the name of theGolden Vanity,O I fear she’ll be taken by a Spanish Ga-la-lee,As she sails by the Low-lands low.IITo 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.’IVThen 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.VHe 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.VISo 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.’VIIThen 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.VIIIThey 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.

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

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.’

‘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.’

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.

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.

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.’

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.

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.

IAs 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.IIAnd when John Dory to Paris was come,A little before the gate-a,John Dory was fitted, the porter was wittedTo let him in thereat-a.IIIThe first man that John Dory did meetWas 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.’VAnd 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.’VIIThey 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.VIIIThe roring cannons then were plied,And dub-a-dub went the drum-a;The braying trumpets loud they criedTo courage both all and some-a.IXThe 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.

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.

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

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

‘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.’

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.

‘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.’

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.

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

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.

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 AuchindownEre the life lea’ me.’IIIComing down Deeside,In a clear morning,Auchindown was in flame,Ere the cock-crawing.IVBut coming o’er Cairn Croom,And looking down, man,I saw Willie MacintoshBurn 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].’

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOOTNOTES:[1155]sheen = shoes.

[1155]sheen = shoes.

IIt fell on a day, and a bonnie simmer day,When green grew aits[1156]and barley,That there fell out a great disputeBetween Argyll and Airlie.IIArgyll 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.IIILady 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.’VHe 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.’VIThey hae sought it up, they hae sought it down,They hae sought it maist severely,Till they fand it in the fair plum-treeThat shines on the bowling-green of Airlie.VIIHe 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’ ArgyllSet 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!’

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

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.

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.

‘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.’

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.’

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

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.

‘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.

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

‘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.

[1156]aits = oats.

[1157]grat = cried.

[1158]fit = foot.

IJohnnie 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.’IIWhen 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 bludeThey wad ride the fords o’ hell.’VBut Johnnie has buskit his gude bend-bow,His arrows, ane by ane,And he has gane to DurrisdeerTo ding the dun deer down.VIHe’s lookit east, and he’s lookit west,And a little below the sun;And there he spied the dun deer lyingAneath a buss[1159]o’ broom.VIIJohnnie he shot and the dun deer lap[1160],And he wounded her on the side;But atween the wood and the wan waterHis hounds they laid her pride.VIIIAnd Johnnie has brittled[1161]the deer sae well,Had out her liver and lungs;And wi’ these he has feasted his bluidy houndsAs if they had been Earl’s sons.IXThey ate sae much o’ the venison,And drank sae much o’ the blude,That Johnnie and his gude gray houndsFell asleep by yonder wood.XBy 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 sawLay sleeping atween his dogs.XIII‘The sark he had upon his backIt was o’ the holland fine,The doublet he had over thatIt was o’ the Lincoln twine[1163].XIV‘The buttons that were on his sleeveWere o’ the gowd sae gude;The twa gray dogs he lay atween,Their mouths were dyed wi’ blude.’XVThen out and spak’ the First Forester,The head man owre them a’;‘If this be Johnnie o’ CockersleeNae nearer will we draw.’XVIBut up and spak’ the Sixth Forester,(His sister’s son was he,)‘If this be Johnnie o’ Cockerslee,We soon shall gar him dee!’XVIIThe 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 woodWad 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’ thingsTill 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!’XXIIJohnnie 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.XXIIIHe 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 forestWill do as mickle for meAs dip its wing in the wan waterAnd straik it on my e’e-bree?XXV‘Is there no a bird in a’ this forestCan sing as I can say,—Can flee away to my mother’s bowerAnd tell to fetch Johnnie away?’XXVIThe starling flew to her window-stane,It whistled and it sang;And aye the owre-word o’ the tuneWas,Johnnie tarries lang!XXVIIThey made a rod o’ the hazel-bush,Another o’ the slae-thorn tree,And mony, mony were the menAt the fetching our Johnnie.XXVIIIThen 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’!’XXIXNow 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.

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.’

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

‘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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

‘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.

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

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

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

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

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!’

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.’

‘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.

‘The wildest wolf in a’ this woodWad 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.

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

‘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!’

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.

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....

‘Is there no a bird in a’ this forestWill do as mickle for meAs dip its wing in the wan waterAnd straik it on my e’e-bree?

‘Is there no a bird in a’ this forestCan sing as I can say,—Can flee away to my mother’s bowerAnd tell to fetch Johnnie away?’

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

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

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’!’

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.

[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.

IO 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?IIHad 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.IIIThey 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].IVThey 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 hostelrieBut I paid my lawing[1168]before I gaed.’VIIINow 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.IXHe 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 BuccleuchIs 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 BuccleuchCan 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 CumberlandShould 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!’XVIHe 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.XVIIHe 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.XVIIIThere 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.XIXAnd 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.XXAnd 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.XXVIThen 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.XXVIIAnd 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.XXVIIIAnd 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’.XXIXWe crept on knees, and held our breath,Till we placed the ladders against the wa’;And sae ready was Buccleuch himsellTo mount the first before us a’.XXXHe 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?XXXIIThen 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’.XXXIIIThey thought King James and a’ his menHad won the house wi’ bow and spear;It was but twenty Scots and ten,That put a thousand in sic a stear[1177]!XXXIVWi’ 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.XXXVAnd 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.’XXXVIIThe 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.’—XXXIXThen 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 RowanI 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!’XLIIWe scarce had won the Staneshaw-bankWhen a’ the Carlisle bells were rung,And a thousand men on horse and footCam wi’ the keen Lord Scroope along.XLIIIBuccleuch 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.XLIVHe 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!’XLVAll 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 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,On Haribee to hang him up?

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.

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].

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.

‘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?’—

‘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:‘By the faith o’ my body, Lord Scroope,’ he said,‘I never yet lodged in a hostelrieBut I paid my lawing[1168]before I gaed.’

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.

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!

‘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!

‘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,Withouten 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 nane,I would slight Carlisle castell high,Though it were builded of marble stane.

‘I would set that castell in a low[1171],And sloken it with English blood!There’s never a man in CumberlandShould 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!’

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,Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;With spur on heel, and splent[1172]on spauld[1173],And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.

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.

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.

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?

‘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?’Quo’ fause Sakelde; ‘come tell me true!’—‘We go to catch a rank reiver,Has broken faith wi’ the bauld Buccleuch.’

‘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.’—

‘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.

‘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.

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.

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.

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’.

We crept on knees, and held our breath,Till we placed the ladders against the wa’;And sae ready was Buccleuch himsellTo 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!—

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

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

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.

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?’—

‘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.’

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.

‘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.’—

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!

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

‘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!’

We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bankWhen 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,And he has plunged in wi’ a’ his band,And safely swam them through the stream.

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

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

‘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.’

Back to Index Next