"And, upon intelligence that the castle of Carlisle, wherein the
prisoner was kept, was surprisable, he employed some trusty persons to
take a view of the postern gate, and measure the height of the wall,
which he meant to scale by ladders, and, if those failed, to break
through the wall with some iron instruments, and force the gates. This
done, so closely as he could, he drew together some two hundred horse,
assigning the place of meeting at the tower of Morton, some ten miles
from Carlisle, an hour before sun-set. With this company, passing the
water of Esk, about the falling, two hours before day, he crossed Eden
beneath Carlisle bridge (the water, through the rain that had fallen,
being thick), and came to the Sacery, a plain under the castle. There
making a little halt, at the side of a small bourn, which they call
Cadage, he caused eighty of the company to light from their horses,
and take the ladders, and other instruments which he had prepared,
with them. He himself, accompanying them to the foot of the wall,
caused the ladders to be set to it, which proving too short, he gave
order to use the other instruments for opening the wall nigh the
postern; and, finding the business likely to succeed, retired to the
rest whom he had left on horseback, for assuring those that entered
upon the castle against any eruption from the town. With some little
labor a breach was made for single men to enter, and they who first
went in, broke open the postern for the rest. The watchmen, and some
few the noise awaked, made a little restraint, but they were quickly
repressed, and taken captive. After which, they passed to the chamber
wherein the prisoner was kept; and, having brought him forth, sounded
a trumpet, which was a signal to them without that the enterprize was
performed. My Lord Scroope and Mr. Salkeld were both within the house,
and to them the prisoner cried "a good night!" The captives taken in
the first encounter were brought to Bacleuch, who presently returned
them to their master, and would not suffer any spoil, or booty, as
they term it, to be carried away; he had straitly forbidden to break
open any door, but that where the prisoner was kept, though he might
have made prey of all the goods within the castle, and taken the
warden himself captive; for he would have it seen, that he did intend
nothing but the reparation of his majesty's honor. By this time, the
prisoner was brought forth, the town had taken the alarm, the drums
were beating, the bells ringing, and a beacon put on the top of the
castle, to give warning to the country. Whereupon Bacleuch commanded
those that entered the castle, and the prisoner, to horse; and
marching again by the Sacery, made to the river at the Stony-bank, on
the other side, whereof certain were assembled to stop his passage;
but he, causing to sound the trumpet, took the river, day being then
broken, and they choosing to give him way, he retired in order
through the Grahams of Esk (men at that time of great power, and
his un-friends), and came back into Scottish ground two hours after
sun-rising, and so homewards.
"This fell out the 13th of April, _1596_. The queen of England, having
notice sent her of what was done, stormed not a little. One of her
chief castles surprised, a prisoner taken forth of the hands of the
warden, and carried away, so far within England, she esteemed a great
affront. The lieger, Mr. Bowes, in a frequent convention kept at
Edinburgh, the 22d of May, did, as he was charged, in a long oration,
aggravate the heinousness of the fact, concluding that peace could not
longer continue betwixt the two realms, unless Bacleuch were
delivered in England, to be punished at the queen's pleasure. Bacleuch
compearing, and charged with the fact, made answer--'That he went not
into England with intention to assault any of the queen's houses, or
to do wrong to any of her subjects, but only to relieve a subject of
Scotland unlawfully taken, and more unlawfully detained; that, in the
time of a general assurance, in a day of truce, he was taken prisoner
against all order, neither did he attempt his relief till redress
was refused; and that he had carried the business in such a moderate
manner, as no hostility was committed, nor the least wrong offered to
any within the castle; yet was he content, according to the ancient
treaties observed betwixt the two realms, when as mutual injuries were
alleged, to be tried by the commissioners that it should please their
majesties to appoint, and submit himself to that which they should
decern.'--The convention, esteeming the answer reasonable, did
acquaint the ambassador therewith, and offered to send commissioners
to the borders, with all diligence, to treat with such as the queen
should be pleased to appoint for her part.
"But she, not satisfied with the answer, refused to appoint any
commissioners; whereupon the council of England did renew the
complaint in July thereafter; and the business being of new agitated,
it was resolved of as before, and that the same should be remitted to
the trial of commissioners: the king protesting, 'that he might,
with great reason, crave the delivery of Lord Scroope, for the injury
committed by his deputy, it being less favourable to take a prisoner,
than relieve him that is unlawfully taken; yet, for the continuing of
peace, he would forbear to do it, and omit nothing, on his part,
that could be desired, either in equity, or by the laws of
friendship.'--The borders, in the mean time, making daily incursions
one upon another, filled all their parts with trouble, the English
being continually put to the worse; neither were they made quiet,
till, for satisfying the queen, the laird of Bacleuch was first
committed in St. Andrews, and afterwards entered in England, where
he remained not long[158]."--_Spottiswood's History of the Church of
Scotland_, p. 414, 416, _Ed. 1677_.
Scott of Satchells, in the extraordinary poetical performance, which
he has been pleased to entitle _A History of the Name of Scott_
(published 1688), dwells, with great pleasure, upon this gallant
achievement, at which, it would seem, his father had been present. He
also mentions, that the laird of Buccleuch employed the services of
the younger sons and brothers only of his clan, lest the name should
have been weakened by the landed men incurring forfeiture. But he
adds, that three gentlemen of estate insisted upon attending their
chief, notwithstanding this prohibition. These were, the lairds
of Harden and Commonside, and Sir Gilbert Elliot of the Stobbs, a
relation of the laird of Buccleuch, and ancestor to the present Sir
William Elliot, Bart. In many things Satchells agrees with the ballads
current in his time, from which, in all probability, he derived most
of his information as to past events, and from which he sometimes
pirates whole verses, as noticed in the annotations upon the _Raid of
the Reidswire_. In the present instance, he mentions the prisoner's
_large spurs_ (alluding to the fetters), and some other little
incidents noticed in the ballad, which was, therefore, probably well
known in his days.
[Footnote 158: The bishop is, in this last particular, rather
inaccurate. Buccleuch was indeed delivered into England, but this was
done in consequence of the judgment of commissioners of both nations,
who met at Berwick this same year. And his delivery took place, less
on account of the raid of Carlisle, than of a second exploit of the
same nature, to be noticed hereafter.]
All contemporary historians unite in extolling the deed itself as
the most daring and well-conducted atchievement of that age. "_Audax
facinus cum modica manu, in urbe maenibus et multitudine
oppidanorum munita, et callidae: audaciae, vix ullo obsisti modo
potuit_."--_Johnstoni Historia, Ed. Amstael. p_. 215. Birrel, in his
gossipping way, says, the exploit was performed "with shouting and
crying, and sound of trumpet, puttand the said toun and countrie in
sic ane fray, that the like of sic ane wassaladge wes nevir done since
the memory of man, no not in Wallace dayis."--_Birrel's Diary_, April
6, 1596. This good old citizen of Edinburgh also mentions another
incident which I think proper to insert here, both as relating to the
personages mentioned in the following ballad, and as tending to shew
the light in which the men of the border were regarded, even at this
late period, by their fellow subjects. The author is talking of the
king's return to Edinburgh, after the disgrace which he had sustained
there, during the riot excited by the seditious ministers, on December
17, 1596. Proclamation had been made, that the Earl of Mar should keep
the West Port, Lord Seton the Nether-Bow, and Buccleuch, with sundry
others, the High Gate. "Upon the morn, at this time, and befoir this
day, thair wes ane grate rumour and word among the tounesmen, that
the kinges M. sould send in _Will Kinmond, the common thieffe_, and
so many southland men as sould spulye the toun of Edinburgh. Upon the
whilk, the haill merchants tuik thair haill gear out of their buiths
or chops, and transportit the same to the strongest hous that wes in
the toune, and remained in the said hous, thair, with thameselfis,
thair servants, and luiking for nothing bot that thai sould have
been all spulyeit. Sic lyke the hail craftsmen and comons convenit
themselfis, thair best guides, as it wer ten or twelve householdes
in are, whilk wes the strongest hous, and might be best kepit from
spuilyeing or burning, with hagbut, pistolet, and other sic armour,
as might best defend thameselfis. Judge, gentill reider, giff this wes
playing." The fear of the borderers being thus before the eyes of the
contumacious citizens of Edinburgh, James obtained a quiet hearing for
one of his favourite orisones, or harangues, and was finally enabled
to prescribe terms to his fanatic metropolis. Good discipline was,
however, maintained by the chiefs upon this occasion; although the
fears of the inhabitants were but too well grounded, considering what
had happened in Stirling ten years before, when the Earl of Angus,
attended by Home, Buccleuch, and other border chieftains, marched
thither to remove the Earl of Arran from the king's councils: the town
was miserably pillaged by the borderers, particularly by a party of
Armstrongs, under this very Kinmont Willie, who not only made prey
of horses and cattle, but even of the very iron grating of the
windows.--_Johnstoni Historia_, p. 102. _Ed. Amstael_.--_Moyse's
Memoirs_, p. 100.
The renown of Kinmont Willie is not surprising, since, in 1588, the
apprehending that freebooter, and Robert Maxwell, natural-brother to
the Lord Maxwell, was the main, but unaccomplished, object of a royal
expedition to Dumfries. "_Rex ... Robertum Maxvallium ... et Gulielmum
Armstrangum Kinmonthum latrociniis intestinis externisque famosum,
conquiri jubet. Missi e ministerio regio, qui per aspera loca
vitabundos persequuntur, magnoque incommodo afficiunt. At illi
latebris aut silvis se eripiunt."--Johnstoni Historia_, p. 138. About
this time, it is possible that Kinmont Willie may have held some
connection with the Maxwells, though afterwards a retainer to
Buccleuch, the enemy of that tribe. At least, the editor finds,
that, in a bond of manrent, granted by Simon Elliot of Whytheuch,
in Liddesdale, to Lord Maxwell, styled therein Earl of Morton, dated
February 28, 1599, William Armstrang, called _Will of Kinmond_,
appears as a witness.--_Syme's MSS_. According to Satchells, this
freebooter was descended of Johnie Armstrong of Gilnockie (See
_Ballad, p. 105, of this volume_.)--_Est in juvencis, est et in equis,
patrum virtus_. In fact, his rapacity made his very name proverbial.
Mas James Melvine, in urging reasons against subscribing the act of
supremacy, in 1584, asks ironically, "Who shall take order with vice
and wickedness? The court and bishops? As well as Martine Elliot, and
Will of Kinmont, with stealing upon the borders!"--_Calderwood_, p.
168.
This affair of Kinmont Willie was not the only occasion upon which the
undaunted keeper of Liddesdale gave offence to the haughty Elizabeth.
For, even before this business was settled, certain of the English
borderers having invaded Liddesdale, and wasted the country, the laird
of Buccleuch retaliated the injury by a _raid_ into England, in which
he not only brought off much spoil, but apprehended thirty-six of the
Tynedale thieves, all of whom he put to death.--_Spottiswoode_, p.
450. How highly the Queen of England's resentment blazed on this
occasion, may be judged from the preface to her letter to Bowes, then
her ambassador in Scotland. "I wonder how base-minded that king thinks
me, that, with patience, I can digest this dishonourable ********.
Let him know, therefore, that I will have satisfaction, or else
*********." These broken words of ire are inserted betwixt the
subscription and the address of the letter.--_Rymer_, Vol. XVI. p.
318. Indeed, so deadly was the resentment of the English, on account
of the affronts put upon them by this formidable chieftain, that there
seems at one time to have been a plan formed (not, as was alleged,
without Elizabeth's privity,) to assassinate Buccleuch.--_Rymer_, Vol.
XVI. p. 107. The matter was at length arranged by the commissioners of
both nations in Berwick, by whom it was agreed that delinquents should
be delivered up on both sides, and that the chiefs themselves should
enter into ward in the opposite countries, till these were given up,
and pledges granted for the future maintenance of the quiet of the
borders. Buccleuch, and Sir Robert Ker of Cessford (ancestor of the
Duke of Roxburgh), appear to have struggled hard against complying
with this regulation; so much so, that it required all James's
authority to bring to order these two powerful chiefs.--_Rymer_, Vol.
XVI. p. 322.--_Spottiswoode_, p. 448.--_Carey's Memoirs_, p, 131. _et
sequen_.--When at length they appeared, for the purpose of delivering
themselves up to be warded at Berwick, an incident took place,
which nearly occasioned a revival of the deadly feud which formerly
subsisted between the Scots and the Kers. Buccleuch had chosen, for
his guardian, during his residence in England, Sir William Selby,
master of the ordnance at Berwick, and accordingly gave himself into
his hands. Sir Robert Ker was about to do the same, when a pistol was
discharged by one of his retinue, and the cry of treason was raised.
Had not the Earl of Home been present, with a party of Merse men, to
preserve order, a dreadful tumult would probably have ensued. As it
was, the English commissioners returned in dismay to Berwick, much
disposed to wreak their displeasure on Buccleuch; and he, on his side,
mortally offended with Cessford, by whose means, as he conceived, he
had been placed in circumstances of so much danger. Sir Robert Ker,
however, appeased all parties, by delivering himself up to ward in
England; on which occasion, he magnanimously chose for his guardian
Sir Robert Carey, deputy-warden of the east marches, notwithstanding
various causes of animosity which existed betwixt them. The
hospitality of Carey equalled the generous confidence of Cessford, and
a firm friendship was the consequence[159].
[Footnote 159: Such traits of generosity illuminate the dark period of
which we treat. Carey's conduct, on this occasion, almost atones
for the cold and unfeeling policy with which he watched the closing
moments of his benefactress, Elizabeth, impatient till remorse and
sorrow should extort her last sigh, that he might lay the foundation
of his future favour with her successor, by carrying him the first
tidings of her death.--_Carey's Memoirs_, p. 172. _et sequen_. It
would appear that Sir Robert Ker was soon afterwards committed to the
custody of the archbishop of York; for there is extant a letter from
that prelate to the lord-treasurer, desiring instructions about the
mode of keeping this noble hostage. "I understand," saith he, "that
the gentleman is wise and valiant, but somewhat haughty here, and
resolute. I would pray your lordship, that I may have directions
whether he may not go with his keeper in my company, to sermons;
and whether he may not sometimes dine with the council, as the last
hostages did; and, thirdly, whether he may sometimes be brought to
sitting to the common-hall, where he may see how careful her majesty
is that the poorest subject in her kingdom may have their right, and
that her people seek remedy by law, and not by avenging themselves.
Perhaps it may do him good as long as he liveth."--_Strype's Annals,
ad annum, 1597_. It would appear, from this letter, that the treatment
of the hostages was liberal; though one can hardly suppress a smile
at the zeal of the good bishop for the conversion of the Scottish
chieftain to a more christian mode of thinking than was common among
the borderers of that day. The date is February 25. 1597, which is
somewhat difficult to reconcile with those given by the Scottish
historians--Another letter follows, stating, that Sir Robert, having
been used to open air, prayed for more liberty for his health's sake,
"offering his word, which it is said he doth chiefly regard, that he
would be true prisoner."--_Strype, Ibid._]
Buccleuch appears to have remained in England from October, 1597,
till February, 1598.--_Johnstoni Historia_, p. 231,--_Spottiswoode, ut
supra_. According to ancient family tradition, Buccleuch was presented
to Elizabeth, who, with her usual rough and peremptory address,
demanded of him, "how he dared to undertake an enterprize so desperate
and presumptuous." "What is it," answered the undaunted chieftain,
"What is it that a man dares not do!" Elizabeth, struck with the
reply, turned to a lord in waiting; "With ten thousand such men,"
said she, "our brother of Scotland might shake the firmest throne of
Europe." Luckily, perhaps, for the murtheress of Queen Mary, James's
talents did not lie that way.
The articles, settled by the commissioners at Berwick, were highly
favourable to the peace of the border. They may be seen at large in
the _Border Laws_, p. 103. By article sixth, all wardens and keepers
are discharged from seeking reparation of injuries, in the ancient
hostile mode of riding, or causing to ride, in warlike manner,
against the opposite march; and that under the highest penalty, unless
authorized by a warrant under the hand of their sovereign. The
mention of the word _keeper_, alludes obviously to the above-mentioned
reprisals, made by Buccleuch in the capacity of keeper of Liddesdale.
This ballad is preserved, by tradition, on the west borders, but much
mangled by reciters; so that some conjectural emendations have been
absolutely necessary to render it intelligible. In particular, the
_Eden_ has been substituted for the _Eske_, p. 193, the latter name
being inconsistent with geography.
KINMONT WILLIE.
* * * * *
O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde?
O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroop?
How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie,
On Hairibee 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 cumpanie.
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.
They led him thro' the Liddel-rack,
And also thro' the Carlisle sands;
They brought him to Carlisle castell,
To be at my Lord Scroop'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 ye 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 Scroop," he said,
"I never yet lodged in a hostelrie,[160]
But I paid my lawing[161] before I gaed."
Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,
In Branksome Ha', where that he lay,
That Lord Scroop 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 avenged of Lord Scroop I'll be!
"O is my basnet[162] a widow's curc[163]
Or my lance a wand of the willow tree?
Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly[164] me!
"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?
"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?
"O were there war between the lands,
As well I wot that there is none,
I would slight Carlisle castell high,
Tho' it were builded of marble stone.
"I would set that castell in a low,[165]
And sloken it with English blood!
There's nevir a man in Cumberland,
Should 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'd
The 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 on spauld,[166]
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, arrayed 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 reached the Woodhouselee.
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?
"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?"
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"
"We go to hunt an English stag,
Has trespassed 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 are 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 o' lear had he.
"Why trespass ye on the English side?
Row-footed outlaws, stand!" quo' he;
The never a word had Dickie to say,
Sae he thrust the lance thro' 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 spait,
But the nevir a horse nor man we lost.
And when we reached the Staneshaw-bank,
The 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;
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 himsell
To 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 land,
Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!--
"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch;
"Let's waken Lord Scroop, right merrilie!"
Then loud the warden's trumpet blew--
"_O whae dare meddle wi' me_?"[167]
Then speedilie to work we gaed,
And raised the slogan ane and a'.
And cut a hole thro' a sheet of lead,
And so we wan to the castle ha'.
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![168]
Wi' coulters and wi' fore-hammers,
We garr'd the bars bang merrilie,
Untill we cam 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,[169] and I wake aft;
Its lang since sleeping was fleyed[170] frae me!
Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,
And a' gude fellows that speer for me."
Then 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 maill,[171]
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 aims played clang!
"O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
"I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan,
I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.
"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
"I've pricked a horse out oure the furs;[172]
But since the day I backed a steed,
I never wore sic cumbrous spurs!"
We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,
When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,
And a thousand men, in horse and foot,
Cam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.
Buccleuch has turned 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 thro' the stream.
He turned 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 astonished stood Lord Scroope,
He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,
When thro' the water they had gane.
"He is either himsell a devil frae hell,
Or else his mother a witch maun be;
I wad na have ridden that wan water,
For a' the gowd in Christentie."
[Footnote 160: _Hostelrie_--Inn.]
[Footnote 161: _Lawing_--Reckoning.]
[Footnote 162: _Basnet_--Helmet.]
[Footnote 163: _Curch_--Coif.]
[Footnote 164: _Lightly_--Set light by.]
[Footnote 165: _Low_--Flame.]
[Footnote 166: _Splent on spauld_--Armour on shoulder.]
[Footnote 167: The name of a border tune.]
[Footnote 168: _Stear_--Stir.]
[Footnote 169: _Soft_--Light.]
[Footnote 170: _Fleyed_--Frightened.]
[Footnote 171: _Maill_--Rent.]
[Footnote 172: _Furs_--Furrows.]
NOTES ON KINMONT WILLIE.
* * * * *
_On Hairibee to hang him up_?--P. 188. v. 1.
Hairibee is the place of execution at Carlisle.
_And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack_.--P. 188. v. 3.
The Liddel-rack is a ford on the Liddel.
_And so they reached the Woodhouselee_.--P. 192. v. 1.
Woodhouselee; a house on the border, belonging to Buccleuch.
* * * * *
The Salkeldes, or Sakeldes, were a powerful family in Cumberland,
possessing, among other manors, that of Corby, before it came into
the possession of the Howards, in the beginning of the seventeenth
century. A strange stratagem was practised by an outlaw, called Jock
Grame of the Peartree, upon Mr. Salkelde, sheriff of Cumberland; who
is probably the person alluded to in the ballad, as the fact is
stated to have happened late in Elizabeth's time. The brother of this
freebooter was lying in Carlisle jail for execution, when Jock of the
Peartree came riding past the gate of Corby castle. A child of the
sheriff was playing before the door, to whom the outlaw gave an apple,
saying, "Master, will you ride?" The boy willingly consenting, Grame
took him up before him, carried him into Scotland, and would never
part with him, till he had his brother safe from the gallows. There is
no historical ground for supposing, either that Salkelde, or any one
else, lost his life in the raid of Carlisle.
In the list of border clans, 1597, Will of Kinmonth, with Kyrstie
Armestrange, and John Skynbanke, are mentioned as leaders of a band of
Armstrongs, called _Sandies Barnes_, inhabiting the Debateable Land.
The ballad itself has never before been published.
DICK O' THE COW.
* * * * *
This ballad, and the two which immediately follow it in the
collection, were published, 1784, in the _Hawick Museum_, a provincial
miscellany, to which they were communicated by John Elliot, Esq. of
Reidheugh, a gentleman well skilled in the antiquities of the western
border, and to whose friendly assistance the editor is indebted for
many valuable communications.
These ballads are connected with each other, and appear to have been
composed by the same author. The actors seem to have flourished, while
Thomas, Lord Scroope, of Bolton, was warden of the west marches of
England, and governor of Carlisle castle; which offices he acquired
upon the death of his father, about 1590; and retained it till the
union of the crowns.
_Dick of the Cow_, from the privileged insolence which he assumes,
seems to have been Lord Scroope's jester. In the preliminary
dissertation, the reader will find the border custom of assuming _noms
de guerre_ particularly noticed. It is exemplified in the following
ballad, where one Armstrong is called the _Laird's Jock_ (i.e. the
laird's son Jock), another _Fair Johnie_, a third _Billie Willie_
(brother Willie), &c. The _Laird's Jock_, son to the laird of
Mangerton, appears, as one of the men of name in Liddesdale, in the
list of border clans, _1597_.
_Dick of the Cow_ is erroneously supposed to have been the same with
one Ricardus Coldall, de Plumpton, a knight and celebrated warrior,
who died in 1462, as appears from his epitaph in the church of
Penrith.--_Nicolson's History of Westmoreland and Cumberland_, Vol.
II. p. 408.
This ballad is very popular in Liddesdale; and the reciter always
adds, at the conclusion, that poor Dickie's cautious removal to Burgh
under Stanemore, did not save him from the clutches of the Armstrongs;
for that, having fallen into their power several years after this
exploit, he was put to an inhuman death. The ballad was well known
in England, so early as 1556. An allusion to it likewise occurs in
_Parrot's Laquei Ridiculosi_, or _Springes 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 from Dick a Cow,
Be cod, was right gud gentleman, looke ye now!
_Epigr. 76_.
DICK O' THE COW.
* * * * *
Now Liddesdale has layen lang in,
There is na riding there at a';
The horses are grown sae lither fat,
They downa stur out o' the sta.'
Fair Johnie Armstrang to Willie did say--
"Billie, a riding we will gae;
England and us have been lang at feid;
Ablins we'll light on some bootie."
Then they are come on to Hutton Ha';
They rade that proper place about;
But the laird he was the wiser man,
For he had left nae gear without.
For he had left nae gear to steal,
Except sax sheep upon a lee:
Quo' Johnie--"I'd rather in England die,
"Ere thir sax sheep gae to Liddesdale wi' me."
"But how ca' they the men we last met,
Billie, as we cam owre the know?"
"That same he is an innocent fule,
And men they call him Dick o' the Cow,"
"That fule has three as good kye o' his ain,
As there are in a' Cumberland, billie," quo he:
"Betide me life, betide me death,
These kye shall go to Liddesdale wi' me."
Then they have come on to the pure fule's house,
And they hae broken his wa's sae wide;
They have loosed out Dick o' the Cow's three ky,
And ta'en three co'erlets frae his wife's bed.
Then on the morn when the day was light,
The shouts and cries rase loud and hie:
"O haud thy tongue, my wife," he says,
"And o' thy crying let me be!
"O had thy tongue, my wife," he says,
"And o' thy crying let me be;
And ay where thou hast lost ae cow,
In gude suith I shall bring thee three."
Now Dickie's gane to the gude Lord Scroope,
And I wat a dreirie fule was he;
"Now hand thy tongue, my fule," he says,
"For I may not stand to jest wi' thee."
"Shame fa' your jesting, my lord!" quo' Dickie,
"For nae sic jesting grees wi' me;
Liddesdale's been in my house last night,
And they hae awa my three kye frae me.
"But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,
To be your puir fule and your leal,
Unless you gi' me leave, my lord,
To gae to Liddesdale and steal."
"I gie thee leave, my fule!" he says;
"Thou speakest against my honour and me,
Unless thou gie me thy trowth and thy hand,
Thou'lt steal frae nane but whae sta' frae thee."
"There is my trowth, and my right hand!
My head shall hang on Hairibee;
I'll ne'er cross Carlisle sands again,
If I steal frae a man but whae sta' frae me."
Dickie's ta'en leave o' lord and master;
I wat a merry fule was he!
He's bought a bridle and a pair of new spurs,
And pack'd them up in his breek thie.
Then Dickie's come on to Pudding-burn house,
E'en as fast as he might drie;
Then Dickie's come on to Pudding-burn,
Where there were thirty Armstrangs and three.
"O what's this come o' me now?" quo' Dickie;
"What mickle wae is this?" quo' he;
"For here is but ae innocent fule,
And there are thirty Armstrangs and three!"
Yet he has come up to the fair ha' board,
Sae weil he's become his courtesie!
"Weil may ye be, my gude Laird's Jock!
But the deil bless a' your cumpanie.
"I'm come to plain o' your man, fair Johnie Armstrang
And syne o' his billie Willie," quo he;
"How they've been in my house last night,
And they hae ta'en my three kye frae me."
"Ha!" quo' fair Johnie Armstrang, "we will him hang."
"Na," quo' Willie, "we'll him slae."
Then up and spak another young Armstrang,
"We'll gie him his batts,[173] and let him gae."
But up and spak the gude Laird's Jock,
The best falla in a' the cumpanie:
"Sit down thy ways a little while, Dickie,
And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gie ye."
But Dickie's heart it grew sae grit,
That the ne'er a bit o't he dought to eat--
Then was he aware of an auld peat-house,
Where a' the night he thought for to sleep.
Then Dickie was aware of an auld peat-house,
Where a' the night he thought for to lye--
And a' the prayers the pure fule prayed
Were, "I wish I had amends for my gude three kye!"
It was then the use of Pudding-burn house,
And the house of Mangerton, all hail,
Them that cam na at the first ca',
Gat nae mair meat till the neist meal.
The lads, that hungry and weary were,
Abune the door-head they threw the key;
Dickie he took gude notice o' that,
Says--"There will be a bootie for me."
Then Dickie has into the stable gane,
Where there stood thirty horses and three;
He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,
A' these horses but barely three.
He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot,
A' these horses but barely three;
He's loupen on ane, ta'en another in hand,
And away as fast as he can hie.
But on the morn, when the day grew light,
The shouts and cries raise loud and hie--
"Ah! whae has done this?" quo' the gude Laird's Jock,
"Tell me the truth and the verity!"
"Whae has done this deed?" quo' the gude Laird's Jock;
"See that to me ye dinna lie!"
Dickie has been in the stable last night,
And has ta'en my brother's horse and mine frae me."
"Ye wad ne'er be tald," quo' the gude Laird's Jock;
"Have ye not found my tales fu' leil?
Ye ne'er wad out o' England bide,
Till crooked, and blind, and a' would steal."
"But lend me thy bay," fair Johnie can say;
"There's nae horse loose in the stable save he;
And I'll either fetch 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,
"He's baith worth gowd and gude monie;
Dick o' the Cow has awa twa horse;
I wish na thou may make him three."
He has ta'en the laird's jack on his back,
A twa-handed sword to hang by his thie;
He has ta'en a steil cap on his head,
And gallopped on to follow Dickie.
Dickie was na a mile frae aff the town,
I wat a mile but barely three,
When he was o'erta'en by fair Johnie Armstrang,
Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.
"Abide, abide, thou traitour thief!
The day is come that thou maun die."
Then Dickie look't owre his left shoulder,
Said--"Johnie, hast thou nae mae in cumpanie?
"There is a preacher in our chapell,
And a' the live lang day teaches he:
When 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:
But, Johnie, what faith and conscience was thine,
When thou took awa my three ky frae me?
"And when thou had ta'en awa my three ky,
Thou thought in thy heart thou wast not weil sped,
Till thou sent thy billie Willie ower the know,
To take thrie coverlets off my wife's bed!"
Then Johnie let a speir fa' laigh by his thie,
Thought well to hae slain the innocent, I trow;
But the powers above were mair than he,
For he ran but the puir fule's jerkin through.
Together they ran, or ever they blan;
This was Dickie the fule and he!
Dickie could na win at him wi' the blade o' the sword,
But fell'd him wi' the plummet under the e'e.
Thus Dickie has fell'd fair Johnie Armstrang,
The prettiest man in the south country---
"Gramercy!" then can Dickie say,
"I had but twa horse, thou hast made me thrie!"
He's ta'en the steil jack aff Johnie's back,
The twa-handed sword that hang low by his thie;
He's ta'en the steil cap aff his head--
"Johnie, I'll tell my master I met wi' thee."
When Johnie wakened out o' his dream,
I wat a dreirie man was he:
"And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than
The shame and dule is left wi' me.
"And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than
The deil gae in thy cumpanie!
For if I should live these hundred years,
I ne'er shall fight wi' a fule after thee."--
Then Dickie's come hame to the gude Lord Scroope,
E'en as fast as he might his;
"Now, Dickie, I'll neither eat nor drink,
Till hie hanged thou shalt be."
"The shame speed the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;
"This was na the promise ye made to me!
For I'd ne'er gane to Liddesdale to steal,
Had I not got my leave frae thee."
"But what garr'd thee steal the Laird's Jock's horse?
And, limmer, what garr'd ye steal him?" quo' he;
"For lang thou mightst in Cumberland dwelt,
Ere the Laird's Jock had stown frae thee."
"Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!
And e'en sae loud as I hear ye lie!
I wan the horse frae fair Johnie Armstrong,
Hand to hand, on Cannobie lee.
"There is the jack was on his back;
This twa-handed sword hang laigh by his thie,
And there's the steil cap was on his head;
I brought a' these tokens to let thee see."
"If that be true thou to me tells,
(And I think thou dares na tell a lie,)
I'll gie thee fifteen punds for the horse,
Weil tald on thy cloak lap shall be.
"I'll gie thee are o' my best milk ky,
To maintain thy wife and children thrie;
And that may be as gude, I think,
As ony twa o' thine wad be."
"The shame speed the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;
"Trow ye aye to make a fule o' me?
I'll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,
Or he's gae to Mortan fair wi' me."
He's gien him twenty punds for the gude horse,
A' in goud and gude monie;
He's gien him ane o' his best milk ky,
To maintain his wife and children thrie.
Then Dickie's come down thro' Carlisle toun,
E'en as fast as he could drie;
The first o' men that he met wi'
Was my lord's brother, bailiff Glozenburrie.
"Weil be ye met, my gude Ralph Scroope!"
"Welcome, my brother's fule!" quo' he:
"Where didst thou get fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?"
"Where did I get him? but steal him," quo' he.
"But wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?
And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?" quo' he:
"Aye; if thoul't tell me the monie on my cloak lap:
"For there's never ae penny I'll trust thee."
"I'll gie thee ten punds for the gude horse,
Weil tald on thy cloak lap they shall be;
And I'll gie thee ane o' the best milk ky,
To maintain thy wife and children thrie."
"The shame speid the liars, my lord!" quo' Dickie;
"Trow ye ay to make a fule o' me!
I'll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,
Or he's gae to Mortan fair wi' me."
He's gien him twenty punds for the gude horse,
Baith in goud and gude monie;
He's gien him ane o' his best milk ky,
To maintain his wife and children thrie.
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,
If ony of the twa were better than he!"
Then Dickie's come hame to his wife again;
Judge ye how the poor fule had sped!
He has gien her twa score English punds,
For the thrie auld coverlets ta'en aff her bed.
"And tak thee these twa as gude ky,
I trow, as a' thy thrie might be;
And yet here is a white-footed nagie,
I trow he'll carry baith thee and me.
"But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;
The Armstrongs they would hang me hie."
So Dickie's ta'en leave at lord and master,
And at Burgh under Stanmuir there dwells he.
[Footnote 173: _Gie him his batts_--Dismiss him with a beating.]
NOTES ON DICK O' THE COW.
* * * * *
_Then Dickie's come on to Pudding-burn house_.--P. 205. v, 3.
This was a house of strength, held by the Armstrongs. The ruins at
present form a sheep-fold, on the farm of Reidsmoss, belonging to the
Duke of Buccleuch.
_He has tied them a' wi' St. Mary's knot_.--P. 207. v. 4.
Hamstringing a horse is termed, in the border dialect, _tying him
with St. Mary's Knot_. Dickie used this cruel expedient to prevent a
pursuit. It appears from the narration, that the horses, left unhurt,
belonged to Fair Johnie Armstrang, his brother Willie, and the Laird's
Jock, of which Dickie carried off two, and left that of the Laird's
Jock, probably out of gratitude for the protection he had afforded him
on his arrival.
_Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee_.--P. 209. v. 1.
A rising-ground on Cannobie, on the borders of Liddesdale.
_Ere the Laird's Jock had stown frae thee_.--P. 211. v. 4.
The commendation of the Laird's Jock's honesty seems but indifferently
founded; for, in July 1586, a bill was fouled against him, Dick of
Dryup, and others, by the deputy of Bewcastle, at a warden-meeting,
for 400 head of cattle taken in open forray from the Drysike in
Bewcastle: and, in September 1587, another complaint appears at the
instance of one Andrew Rutledge of the Nook, against the Laird's Jock,
and his accomplices, for 50 kine and oxen, besides furniture, to
the amount of 100 merks sterling. See Bell's MSS., as quoted in the
_History of Cumberland and Westmoreland_. In Sir Richard Maitland's
poem against the thieves of Liddesdale, he thus commemorates the
Laird's Jock:
They spuilye puir men of thair pakis,
They leif them nocht on bed nor bakis;
Baith hen and cok,
With reil and rok,
The _Lairdis Jock_
All with him takis.
Those, who plundered Dick, had been bred up under an expert teacher.
JOCK O' THE SIDE.
* * * * *
The subject of this ballad, being a common event in those troublesome
and disorderly times, became a favourite theme of the ballad-makers.
There are, in this collection, no fewer than three poems on the rescue
of prisoners, the incidents in which nearly resemble each other;
though the poetical description is so different, that the editor did
not think himself at liberty to reject any one of them, as borrowed
from the others. As, however, there are several verses, which, in
recitation, are common to all these three songs, the editor, to
prevent unnecessary and disagreeable repetition, has used the freedom
of appropriating them to that, in which they seem to have the best
poetic effect.
The reality of this story rests solely upon the foundation of
tradition. Jock o' the side seems to have been nephew to the laird
of Mangertoun, cousin to the Laird's Jock, one of his deliverers, and
probably brother to Chrystie of the Syde, mentioned in the list of
border clans 1597. Like the Laird's Jock, he also is commemorated by
Sir Richard Maitland.--See the _Introduction_.
He is weil kend, Johne of the Syde,
A greater theif did never ryde;
He never tyris
For to brek byris.
Our muir and myris
Ouir gude ane guide.
The land-serjeant, mentioned in this ballad, and also in that of
_Hobble Noble_, was an officer under the warden, to whom was committed
the apprehending of delinquents, and the care of the public peace.
JOCK O' THE SIDE.
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.
For Mangerton house Lady Downie has gane,
Her coats she has kilted up to her knee;
And down the water wi' speed she rins,
While tears in spaits[174] fa' fast frae her e'e.
Then up and spoke our gude auld lord--
"What news, what news, sister Downie, to me?"
"Bad news, bad news, my Lord Mangerton;
"Michael is killed, and they hae ta'en my son Johnie."
"Ne'er fear, sister Downie," quo' Mangerton;
"I have yokes of ousen, eighty and three;
"My barns, my byres, and my faulds a' weil fill'd,
And I'll part wi' them a' ere Johnie shall die.
"Three men I'll send to set him free,
A' harneist wi' the best o' steil;
The English louns may hear, and drie
The weight o' their braid-swords to feel.
"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."
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.
Lord Mangerton them orders gave,
"Your horses the wrang way maun be shod;
Like gentlemen ye mauna seim,
But look like corn-caugers[175] ga'en the road.
"Your armour gude ye mauna shaw,
Nor yet appear like men o' weir;
As country lads be a' array'd,
Wi' branks and brecham[176] on each mare."
Sae now their horses are the wrang way shod.
And Hobbie has mounted his grey sae fine;
Jock his lively bay, Wat's on his white horse, behind,
And on they rode for the water of Tyne
At the Cholerford they all light down,
And there, wi' the help of the light o' the moon,
A tree they cut, wi' fifteen nogs on each side,
To climb up the wa' of Newcastle toun.
But when they cam to Newcastle toun,
And were alighted at the wa',
They fand their tree three ells ower laigh,
They fand their stick baith short and sma'.
Then up and spak the Laird's ain Jock;
"There's naething for't; the gates we maun force."
But when they cam the gate untill,
A proud porter withstood baith men and horse.
His neck in twa the Armstrangs wrang;
Wi' fute or hand he ne'er play'd pa!
His life and his keys at anes they hae ta'en,
And cast the body ahind the wa'.
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?"
Jock answers thus, wi' dulefu' tone;
"Aft, aft, I wake--I seldom sleep:
But whae's this kens my name sae well,
And thus to mese[177] my waes does seik?"
Then out and spak the gude Laird's Jock,
"Now fear ye na, my billie," quo' he;
"For here are the Laird's Jock, the Laird's Wat,
And Hobbie Noble, come to set thee free."
"Now hand thy tongue, my gude Laird's Jock;
For ever, alas! this canna be;
For if a' Liddesdale was here the night,
The morn's the day that I maun die.
"Full fifteen stane o' Spanish iron,
They hae laid a' right sair on me;
Wi' locks and keys I am fast bound
Into this dungeon dark and dreirie."
"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."
The first strong door that they cam at,
They loosed it without a key;
The next chain'd door that they cam at,
They garr'd it a' to flinders flee.
The prisoner now upon his back,
The Laird's Jock has gotten up fu' hie;
And down the stair, him, irons and a',
Wi' nae sma' speid and joy, brings he.
"Now, Jock, my man," quo' Hobbie Noble,
"Some o' his weight ye may lay on me."
"I wat weil no!" quo' the Laird's ain Jock,
"I count him lighter than a flee."
Sae out at the gates they a' are gane,
The prisoner's set on horseback hie;
And now wi' speid they've ta'en the gate,
While ilk ane jokes fu' wantonlie:
"O Jock! sae winsomely's ye ride,
Wi' baith your feet upon ae side;
Sae weel ye're harneist, and sae trig,
In troth ye sit like ony bride!"
The night, tho' wat, they did na mind,
But hied them on fu' merrilie,
Until they cam to Cholerford brae,[178]
Where the water ran like mountains hie.
But when they cam to Cholerford,
There they'met with an auld man;
Says--"Honest man, will the water ride?
Tell us in haste, if that ye can."
"I wat weel no," quo' the gude auld man;
"I hae lived here threty years and thrie,
And I ne'er yet saw the Tyne sae big,
Nor running anes sae like a sea."
Then out and spak the Laird's saft Wat,
The greatest coward in the cumpanie;
"Now halt, now halt! we need na try't;
The day is come we a' maun die!"
