THE BATTLE OF REID-SQUAIR, ON July seventh, the suthe to say, Carmichael was our warden then, He causit the countrey to convene, And the Laird's Watt, that worthy man, Brocht in his surname weil be sene: The Armstrangs that ay haif bene A hardy house, but not a hail; The Elliots honours to mentain, Brought in the laif of Liddisdale. Then Twidail lads came to with speid, The Scheriff brocht the Douglas doun, With Cranstane, Gladstane, gude at neid, Baith Rewls-water and Hawick Town. Beanjeddert bauldly maid him boun, With all the Trumbulls strang and stout; The Ruthirfuirds, with grit renoun, Convoyit the town of Jedbruch out. With other Clanns I can nocht tell, It greivt him sair that day I trow, He counted us not worth a louse; Sir George was gentil, meik and douse, But he was hail, and het as fyre: But zit for all his cracking crouse To dail with proud men is but pain, But play the beist, and let them be. Zit was our meiting meik enough, I saw cum merching owre the knows, With jack and speir, and bowis all bent, Zit be me troth we feir'd nae ill: Carmichael bad them speik out plainly, He raise and rax'd him quhair he stude, And bade him match him with his marrows; Then Tyndal hard these reseuns rude, And they lute aff a flight of arrows. Then was ther nocht but bow and speir, Gude Symington was slain frae hand. Up raise the Laird to red the cumber, Ane uther throw the breiks him bair, His horsemen they faucht stout and snell, Then raise the slogan with an schout, The swallow-tails frae teckles flew, And schot amang them as we micht. Hynd owre the knowe, without gude-nicht, They ran with mony a shout and zell. But after they had shaw'd their backs, And sae they fled with all thair main, Sir Francis Russel tane was thair, But gif ze wald a souldier serche Thir three, they laid weil on at last, Except the horsemen of the gaird; Nane stoutlier stude out for their Laird, But little harness had we thair, We neid nocht feir to find him sune, But pryde and breaking out, but dout, The following is the account of the subject of this Ballad, given by Ridpath in his Border-history-" At a meeting held in the accustomed time and manner, at a hill called the Red-Swire, on the middle march between the kingdoms, Sir John Forrester, warden of that march on the side of England, who was then also governour of Berwick, and Sir John Carmichael, warden of the opposite march in Scotland, were employed in the ordinary business of hearing causes and redressing wrongs. In the progress of this work, an Englishman, who had been convicted of theft, and was a notorious offender, was demanded by the Scottish warden to be delivered up, according to the law of the marches, to be the prisoner of the owner of the goods stolen, until satisfaction should be made for them. This delivery being excused for the present by Forrester, on some pretence that did not satisfy Carmichael, he entered into expostulations with 1 Forrester, who being thereby provoked, behaved haughtily, and gave signs of resentment apparent to all around him. This was sufficient incitement to some of his attendants to attack those of the other side; which they did by a flight of arrows that killed one Scotchman, and wounded several others. The Scots by this unexpected assault were driven off the field; but being met in their flight by some Jedburgh-men, who were coming to attend the warden, they were encouraged to turn back on their enemies; which they did with so much vigour, that they put them to an entire rout. In this encounter, Sir George Heron, keeper of Tindale and Ridsdale, a man much esteemed in both realms, was slain, together with twenty-four of his countrymen. The English warden himself, bis |