A Collection of Ballads Part 9

Wi coulters, and wi fore-hammers, We garrd the bars bang merrilie, Until we came to the inner prison, Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie.

And when we came 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 frae me; Gie my service back to my wyfe 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, 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 airms playd 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 neer bestrode.

"And mony a time," quo Kinmont Willie, "I've p.r.i.c.ked a horse out oure the furs; But since the day I backed a steed I nevir wore sic c.u.mbrous 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 flowd 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 h.e.l.l, Or else his mother a witch maun be; I wad na have ridden that wan water For a' the gowd in Christentie."

Ballad: Jamie Telfer

(Child, vol. vi. Early Edition.)

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

The first ae guide that they met wi', It was high up Hardhaughswire; The second guide that we met wi', It was laigh down in Borthwick water.

"What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?"

"Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee; But, gin ye'll gae to the fair Dodhead, Mony a cow's cauf I'll let thee see."

And whan they cam to the fair Dodhead, Right hastily they clam the peel; They loosed the kye out, ane and a', And ranshackled the house right weel.

Now Jamie Telfer's heart was sair, The tear aye rowing in his e'e; He pled wi' the captain to hae his gear, Or else revenged he wad be.

The captain turned him round and leugh; Said--"Man, there's naething in thy house, But ae auld sword without a sheath, That hardly now wad fell a mouse!"

The sun was na up, but the moon was down, It was the gryming o' a new fa'n snaw, Jamie Telfer has run three myles a-foot, Between the Dodhead and the Stobs's Ha'

And whan he cam to the fair tower yate, He shouted loud, and cried weel hie, Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot-- "Wha's this that brings the fraye to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, And a harried man I think I be!

There's naething left at the fair Dodhead, But a waefu' wife and bairnies three.

"Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha'.

For succour ye'se get nane frae me!

Gae seek your succour where ye paid black-mail, For, man! ye ne'er paid money to me."

Jamie has turned him round about, I wat the tear blinded his e'e-- "I'll ne'er pay mail to Elliot again, And the fair Dodhead I'll never see!

"My hounds may a' rin masterless, My hawks may fly frae tree to tree; My lord may grip my va.s.sal lands, For there again maun I never be."

He has turned him to the Tiviot side, E'en as fast as he could drie, Till he came to the Coultart Cleugh And there he shouted baith loud and hie.

Then up bespak him auld Jock Grieve-- "Wha's this that brings the fray to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, A harried man I trow I be.

"There's naething left in the fair Dodhead, But a greeting wife and bairnies three, And sax poor ca's stand in the sta', A' routing loud for their minnie."

"Alack a wae!" quo' auld Jock Grieve, "Alack! my heart is sair for thee!

For I was married on the elder sister, And you on the youngest of a' the three."

Then he has ta'en out a bonny black, Was right weel fed wi' corn and hay, And he's set Jamie Telfer on his back, To the Catslockhill to tak' the fray.

And whan he cam to the Catslockhill, He shouted loud and weel cried he, Till out and spak him William's Wat-- "O wha's this brings the fraye to me?"

"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, A harried man I think I be!

The captain of Bewcastle has driven my gear; For G.o.d's sake rise, and succour me!"

"Alas for wae!" quo' William's Wat, "Alack, for thee my heart is sair!

I never cam by the fair Dodhead, That ever I fand thy basket bare."

He's set his twa sons on coal-black steeds, Himsel' upon a freckled gray, And they are on wi, Jamie Telfer, To Branksome Ha to tak the fray.

And whan they cam to Branksome Ha', They shouted a' baith loud and hie, Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch, Said--"Wha's this brings the fray to me?

"It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, And a harried man I think I be!

There's nought left in the fair Dodhead, But a greeting wife and bairnies three."

"Alack for wae!" quoth the gude auld lord, "And ever my heart is wae for thee!

But fye gar cry on Willie, my son, And see that he come to me speedilie!

"Gar warn the water, braid and wide, Gar warn it soon and hastily!

They that winna ride for Telfer's kye, Let them never look in the face o' me!

"Warn Wat o' Harden, and his sons, Wi' them will Borthwick water ride; Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh, And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside.