18

He's ta'en the steil cap aff his head

'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 tauld," 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 'gan 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 gan 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 galloped 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 Armstrong,
Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.*

"Abide, abide, thou traitour thiefe!

The day is come that thou maun die."Then Dickie look't ower his left shoulder,

Said "Johnie, hast thou nae mae in companie?

"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 a 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 kye frae me?

"And when thou had ta'en awa my three kye, Thou thought in thy heart thou wast not weil sped,

Till thou sent thy billie Willie ower the know,
To tak three coverlets off my wife's bed!".
Then Johnie let a spear fa' laigh by his thie,
Thought weel to hae slain the innocent, I trow;
But the powers above were mair than he,

For he ran but the pure fule's jerkin through.
Together they ran, or ever they blan;t
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 ee. Thus Dickie has fell'd fair Johnie Armstrong, The prettiest man in the south countryGramercy!" then 'gan Dickie say,

"I had but twa horse, thou hast made me three

He's ta'en the steil jack aff Johnie's back,

The twa-handed sword that hung low by his thie;

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 companie!

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 hie;

'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 gang 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 Armstrang,
Hand to hand, on Cannobie lee.

"There is the jack was on his back;

This twa-handed sword hung 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 tauld on thy cloak lap shall be. "I'll gie thee ane o' my best milk kye, To maintain thy wife and children three; 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 gi'en him twenty punds for the gude horse, A' in goud and gude monie;

He's gi'en him ane o' his best milk kye,

To maintain his wife and children three. 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 Armstrang's horse?"

"Where did I get him, but steal him," quo' he.

teacher. Tradition reports that the Laird's Jock survived to extreme old age, when he died in the following extraordinary man ner. A challenge had been given by an Englishman, named For ster, to any Scottish Borderer, to fight him at a place called Kershopefoot, exactly upon the Borders. The Laird's Jock's only son accepted the defiance, and was armed by his father with his own two-handed sword. The old champion himself, though bed-ridden, insisted upon being present at the battle. He was borne to the place appointed, wrapped, it is said, in blankets, and placed upon a very high stone to witness the conflict. In the duel his son fell, treacherously slain, as the Scotch tradition affirms. The old man gave a loud yell of terror and despair when he saw his son

They spuilye puir men of their pakis, They leif them nocht on bed nor bakis;

Baith hen and cok,

With reil and rok,

The Lairdis Jock

All with him takis."

"But wilt thou sell me the bonny horse? And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?" quo' he: Ay; if thou'lt 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 tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be; And I'll gie thee ane o' the best milk kye,

To maintain thy wife and children three.". "The shame speed the liars, my lord!" Dickie ;

quo'

"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 gi'en him twenty punds for the gude horse, Baith in goud and gude monie;

He's gi'en him ane o' his milk kye,

To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie lap a loup fu' hie,

And I wat a loud laugh laughed he

"I wish the neck o' the third horse was broken,
If ony of the twa were better than he !"-
Then Dickie's come hame to his wife again;
Judge ye how the puir fule had sped!
He has gi'en her twa score English punds,

For the three auld coverlets ta'en aff her bed.

"And tak thee these twa as gude kye,
I trow, as a' thy three 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 Armstrangs they would hang me hie."
So Dickie's ta'en leave at lord and master,
And at Burgh under Stanmuir there dwells he.

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 Christie 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 thief did never ryde;

He never tyris,

For to brek byris,

Our muir and myris

Ouir gude ane guide," &c.

Jock o' the Side appears to have assisted the Earl of Westmoreland in his escape after his unfortunate insurrection with the Earl of Northumberland in the twelfth year of Elizabeth. "The two rebellious rebels went into Liddesdale in Scotland, yesternight, where Martin Ellwood [Elliot] and others, that have given pledges to the regent of Scotland, did raise their forces against them; being conducted by black Ormeston, an outlaw of Scotland, that was a principal murtherer of the King of Scots, [Darnley,] where the fight was offered, and both parties alighted from their horses; and, in the end, Ellwood said to Ormeston, he would be sorry to enter deadly feud with him by bloodshed; but he

would charge him and the rest before the regent for keeping of the rebels; and if he did not put them out of the country, the next day, he would doe his worst again them; whereupon the two Earls were driven to leave Liddesdale, and to fly to one of the Armstrongs, a Scot upon the batable [debateable] land on the Borders between Liddesdale and England. The same day the Liddesdale men stole the horses of the Countess of Northumberland, and of her two women, and ten others of their company; so as, the earls being gone, the lady of Northumberland was left there on foot, at John of the Side's house, a cottage not to be compared to many a dogkennel in England. At their departing from her, they went not above fifty horse, and the Earl of Westmoreland, to be the more unknown, changed his coat of plate and sword with John of the Side, and departed like a Scottish Borderer."-Advertisements from Hexham, 22d December, 1569, in the Cabala, p. 160.

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* fa' fast frae her ee.

Then up and spoke her 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,
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 banished thee, to me."-
Now Hobbie was an English man,

In Bewcastle-dale was bred and born;
But his misdeeds they were sae great,
They banished him ne'er to return.

Lord Mangerton them orders gave,
"Your horses the wrang way maun be shod;
Like gentlemen ye mauna seem,

But look like corn-caugerst 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 brechamt 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 Cholerfords they a' 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 thair tree three ells ower laigh,
They fand their stick baith short and sma',

Then up spake the Laird's ain Jock; "There's naething for't; the gates we maun force."

But when they cam the gate until,

A proud porter withstood baith men and horse. His neck in twa the Armsträngs 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 ahint 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' dolefu' tone;

64

Aft, aft I wake-I seldom sleep:
But whae's this kens my name sae weel,
And thus to mese* my waes does seek ?".
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 haud thy tongue, my gude Laird's Jock, For ever, alas! this canna be; For if a' Liddesdale were 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 stairs, him, airns and a',
Wi' nae sma' speed and joy brings he.
"Now, Jock, my man," quo' Hobbie Noble,
Some of his weight ye may lay on me.'
"I wat weel 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' speed they've ta'en the gate,
While ilk ane jokes fu' wantonlie:
"O Jock! sae winsomely 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,

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 thretty years and three,
And I ne'er yet saw the Tyne sae big,
Nor running anes sae like a sea."

• Mese-Soothe. + Fie-Predestined. I The land-sergeant (mentioned also in Hobbie Noble) was an officer under the warden, to whom was committed the apprehending of delinquents, and the care of the public peace.

[One of the house of Thirlwall, mentioned in this ballad, and in the notes to it, figures in Sir Walter Scott's last novel-Castle Dangerous-ED.]

Pronounced Awbony.

In explanation of this ancient ditty, Mr. Surtees has furnished me with the following local memorandum: Willimoteswick, now more commonly called Ridley Hall, is situated at the confluence of the Allon and Tyne, and was the chief seat of the ancient fami K

Then out and spoke 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 !""Puir faint-hearted thief!" cried the Laird's ain Jock,

"There'll nae man die but him that's fie; t I'll guide ye a' right safely thro';

Lift ye the pris'ner on ahint me."

Wi' that the water they hae ta'en,

By ane's and twa's they a' swam thro'
"Here are we a' safe," quo' the Laird's Jock,
"And, puir faint Wat, what think ye now
They scarce the other brae had won,

When twenty men they saw pursue;
Frae Newcastle toun they had been sent,
A' English lads baith stout and true.
But when the land-sergeant? the water saw,
It winna ride, my lads," says he;
Then cried aloud-"The prisoner take,
But leave the fetters, I pray, to me.'

66

"I wat weel no," quo' the Laird's ain Jock, "I'll keep them a'; shoon to my mare they'll be: My gude bay mare-for I am sure,

She has bought them a' right dear frae thee."— Sae now they are on to Liddesdale,

E'en as fast as they could them hie; The prisoner is brought to's ain fire-side, And there o's airns they mak him free. "Now, Jock, my billie," quo' a' the three, "The day is comed thou was to die; But thou's as weel at thy ain ingle-side, Now sitting, I think, 'twixt thee and me."

THE DEATH OF FEATHERSTONHAUGH.

THIS old Northumbrian ballad was originally printed in the Notes to Marmion, but it is here inserted in its proper place. It was taken down from the recitation of a woman eighty years of age, mother of one of the miners in Alston-Moor, by the agent of the lead mines there, who communicated it to my friend and correspondent, R. Surtees, Esq. of Mainsforth. She had not, she said, heard it for many years; but, when she was a girl, it used to be sung at merry-makings, "till the roof rung again." To preserve this curious, though rude rhyme, it is here inserted. The ludicrous turn given to the slaughter, marks that wild and disorderly state of society, in which a murder was not merely a casual circumstance, but, in some cases, an exceedingly good jest. The structure of the ballad resembles the Fray of Suport," having the same irregular stanza and wild chorus. 1810.§

THE DEATH OF FEATHERSTONHAUGH. Hoor awa', lads, hoot awa',

Ha' ye heard how the Ridleys, and Thirlwalls, and a',

Ha' set upon Albany!! Featherstonhaugh,
And taken his life at the Deadmanshaugh?
There was Willimoteswick,

And Hardriding Dick,

And Hughie of Hawdon, and Will of the Wa'.T I canno tell a', I canno tell a',

And mony a mair that the deil may knaw.

ly of Ridley. Hardriding Dick is not an epithet referring to horsemanship, but means Richard Ridley of Hardriding, the seat of another family of that name, which, in the time of Charles I.. was sold on account of expenses incurred by the loyalty of the proprietor, the immediate ancestor of Sir Matthew Ridley. Will of the Wa' seems to be William Ridley of Walltown, so called from its situation on the great Roman Wall. Thirlwall Castle, whence the clan of Thirlwalls derived their name, is situated on the small river of Tippell, near the western boundary of Northum berland. It is near the wall, and takes its name from the rampart having been thirled, t. e. pierced, or breached, in its vicinity. Featherston Castle lies south of the Tyne, towards Alston-Moor.

The auld man went down, but Nicol, his son,
Ran away afore the fight was begun;

And he run, and he run,

And afore they were done,

There was many a Featherston gat sic a stun, As never was seen since the world begun.

I canno tell a', I canno tell a';

Some gat a skelp, and some gat a claw;
But they garr'd the Featherstons haud their jaw,t
Nicol, and Alick, and a'.

Some gat a hurt, and some gat nane;
Some had harness, and some gat sta'en.t

Ane gat a twist o' the craig ;S
Ane gat a bunch o' the wame;¶
Symy Haw gat lamed of a leg,
And syne ran wallowing** hame.

Hoot, hoot, the auld man's slain outright!
Lay him now wi' his face down :-he's a sorrow-
ful sight.

Janet, thou donot,††

I'll lay my best bonnet,

Thou gets a new gude-man afore it be night.

Hoo away, lads, hoo away,

We's a' be hangid if we stay.

Tak' up the dead man, and lay him anent the bigging

Here's the Bailey o' Haltwhistle,#

Wi' his great bull's pizzle,

That supp'd up the broo', and synepiggin.§§

HOBBIE NOBLE.

-in the

WE have seen the hero of this ballad act a distinguished part in the deliverance of Jock o' the Side, and are now to learn the ungrateful return which the Armstrongs made him for his faithful services. Halbert, or Hobbie Noble, appears to have been one of those numerous English outlaws, who, being forced to fly their own country, had established themselves on the Scottish Borders. As Hobbie continued his depredations upon the English, they bribed some of his hosts, the Armstrongs, to decoy him into England under pretence of a predatory expedition. He was there delivered, by his treacherous companions, into the hands of the officers of justice, by whom he was conducted to Carlisle, and executed next morning. The Laird of Mangertoun, with whom Hobbie was in high favour, is said to have taken a severe revenge upon the traitors who betrayed him. The principal contriver of the scheme, called here Sim o' the Maynes, fled into England

Albany Featherstonhaugh, the chief of that ancient family, made a figure in the reign of Edward VI. A feud did certainly exist be tween the Ridleys and Featherstones, productive of such consequences as the ballad narrates. "24 Oct. 22do Henrici svi Inquisitio capt. apud Hautwhistle, sup. visum corpus Alexandri Featherston, Gen. apud Grensilhaugh, felonice interfecti, 21 Oct, per Nicolaum Ridley de Unthanke, Gen. Hugon Ridle, Nicolaum Ridle, et alios ejusdem nominis." Nor were the Feath erstones without their revenge; for 36to Henrici svi, we have "Ullagatio Nicolai Featherston, ac Thoma Nyxon, &c. pro homicidio Willmi. Ridle de Morale."

*Skelp-signifies slap, or rather is the same word which was originally spelled schlap.

Haud their jaw-Hold their jaw; a vulgar expression still

in use.

from the resentment of his chief; but experienced there the common fate of a traitor, being himself executed at Carlisle, about two months after Hobbie's death. Such is, at least, the tradition of Liddesdale. Sim o' the Maynes appears among the Armstrongs of Whitauch, in Liddesdale, in the list of Clans so often alluded to.

HOBBIE NOBLE.

FOUL fa' the breast first Treason bred in!
That Liddesdale may safely say
For in it there was baith meat and drink,
And corn unto our geldings gay.

And we were a' stout-hearted men,

As England she might often say;
But now we may turn our backs and flee,
Since brave Noble is sold away.

Now Hobbie was an English man,
And born into Bewcastle dale;
But his misdeeds they were so great,
They banish'd him to Liddesdale.
At Kershope foot the tryste was set,
Kershope of the lilye lee;TT

And there was traitour Sim o' the Mains,***
And with him a private companie.

Then Hobbie has graithed+++ his body fair,
Baith wi' the iron and wi' the steel;
And he has ta'en out his fringed grey,

And there, brave Hobbie, he rade him weel.
Then Hobbie is down the water gane,

E'en as fast as he could hie;

Tho' a' should hae bursten and broken their hearts, Frae that riding-tryst he wad na be.

"Well be ye met, my ferest‡‡ five!

And now, what is your will wi' me?"Then they cried a', wi' ae consent,

"Thou'rt welcome here, brave Noble, to me. "Wilt thou with us into England ride,

And thy safe warrand we will be?
If we get a horse worth a hundred pound,
Upon his back thou sune sall be.'

"I dare not by day into England ride;
The Land-Sergeant has me at feid:
And I know not what evil may betide,

For Peter of Whitfield, his brother, is dead.

And Anton Shiel he loves not me,
For I gat twa drifts o' his sheep;

The great Earl of Whitfield§§§ loves me not,
For nae gear frae me he e'er could keep.

by the Scottish commissioners, to the Lord Bishop of Carlisle.-
Introduction to the History of Westmoreland and Cumberland,
p. 81. In the list of Borderers, 1597, Hector of Harelaw, with the
Griefs and Cuts of Harelaw, also figures as an inhabitant of the
Debateable Land. It would appear, from a spirited invective in
the Maitland MS. against the regent, and those who delivered up
the unfortunate earl to Elizabeth, that Hector had been guilty of
this treachery, to redeem the pledge which had been exacted from
him for his peaceable demeanour. The poet says, that the perfidy
of Morton and Lochlevin was worse than even that of-
-"the traitour Eckie of Harelaw,

That says he would him to redeern his pledge;
Your deed is war, as all the world does know-
You nothing can but covatice allege."

PINKERTON'S Maitland Poems, vol. i. p. 290. Eckie is the contraction of Hector among the vulgar. These little memoranda may serve still farther to illustrate the beautiful ballads, upon that subject, published in the Reliques. TT Kershope-burn, where Hobbie met his treacherous companions, falls into the Liddel, from the English side, at a place called Turnersholm, where, according to tradition, tourneys and games of chivalry were often solemnized.

*** The Mains was anciently a Border-keep, near Castletown, on the north side of the Liddel, but is now totally demolished. *** Graithed-Clad. 111 Feres-Companions.

$$$ Whitfield is explained by Mr. Ellis of Otterbourne to be a large and rather wild manorial district in the extreme southwest part of Northumberland; the proprietor of which might be naturally called the Lord, though not Earl of Whitfield. I suspect, however, that the reciters may have corrupted the great Ralph Whitfield into Earl of Whitfield. Sir Matthew Whitfield, of Whitfield, was Sheriff of Northumberland in 1433, and the estate continued in the family from the reign of Richard II. till about fifty years since.

"But will ye stay till the day gae down, Until the night come o'er the grund, And I'll be a guide worth ony twa That may in Liddesdale be found? "Though the night be black as pick and tar, I'll guide ye o'er yon hill sae hie; And bring ye a' in safety back,

If ye'll be true and follow me."

He has guided them o'er moss and muir,
O'er hill and hope, and mony a down;
Until they came to the Foulbogshiel,
And there, brave Noble, he lighted down.
But word is gane to the Land-Sergeant,
In Askerton where that he lay-

61

"The deer, that ye hae hunted sae lang, Is seen into the Waste this day.""The Hobbie Noble is that deer!

I wat he carries the style fu' hie;

Aft has he driven our bluidhounds back,t And set ourselves at little lee.

"Gar warn the bows of Hartlie-burn,

See they sharp their arrows on the wa'! Warn Willeva and Speir Edom,+ And see the morn they meet me a'. "Gar meet me on the Rodric-haugh,§ And see it be by break o' day; And we will on to Conscouthart-green, For there, I think, we'll get our prey.' Then Hobbie Noble has dreimit a dreim, In the Foulbogshiel where that he lay; He dreirit his horse was aneath him shot, And he himself got hard away.

The cocks 'goud craw, the day 'goud daw,
And I wot sae even fell down the rain;
Had Hobbie na wakened at that time

In the Foulbogshiel, he had been ta'en or slain. "Awake, awake, my feres five!

I trow here makes a fu' ill day;
Yet the worst cloak o' this company,

I hope shall cross the Waste this day.”—
Now Hobbie thought the gates were clear;
But, ever alas! it was na sae:
They were beset by cruel men and keen,
That away brave Hobbie might na gae.

"Yet follow me, my feres five,

And see ye keep of me gude ray; And the worst cloak o' this company

Even yet may cross the Waste this day."

But the Land-Sergeant's men cam Hobbie before,
The traitor Sim cam Hobbie behin',
So had Noble been wight as Wallace was,
Away, alas! he might na win.

Then Hobbie had but a laddie's sword;
But he did mair than a laddie's deed;
For that sword had clear'd Conscouthart-green,
Had it not broke o'er Jerswigham's head.

* Askerton is an old castle, now ruinous, situated in the wilds of Cumberland, about seventeen miles north-east of Carlisle, amidst that mountainous and desolate tract of country bordering upon Liddesdale, emphatically termed the Waste of Bewcastle. "The russet blood-hound, wont, near Annand's stream, To trace the sly thief with avenging foot, Close as an evil conscience still at hand." Our ancient statutes inform us, that the blood-hound, or sluithhound, (so called from its quality of tracing the slot, or track, of men and animals,) was early used in the pursuit and detection of marauders. Nullus perturbet aut impediat canem trassantem, aut homines trassantes cum ipso, ad sequendum latrones.-Regiam Majestatem, lib. 4tus, cap. 32. And, so late as 1616, there was an order from the king's commissioners of the northern Counties, that a certain number of slough-hounds should be maintained in every district of Cumberland, bordering upon Scotland. They were of great value, being sometimes sold for a hundred crowns.-Exposition of Bleau's Atlas, voce Nithsdale. The breed of this sagacious animal, which could trace the human footstep with the most unerring accuracy, is now nearly extinct.

: Willeva and Speir Edom are small districts in Bewcastledale, through which also the Hartlie-burn takes its course.

$ Conscouthart-Green, and Rodric-haugh, and the Foulbogshiel, are the names of places in the same wilds, through which the Scottish plunderers generally made their raids upon England, as ap

Then they hae ta'en brave Hobbie Noble,
Wi's ain bowstring they band him sae;
But his gentle heart was ne'er sae sair,

As when his ain five bound him on the brae.
They hae ta'en him on for west Carlisle ;
They ask'd him, if he kend the way?
Though much he thought, yet little he said
He knew the gate as weel as they.

They hae ta'en him up the Ricker-gate;
The wives they cast their windows wide;
And every wife to another can say,

"That's the man loosed Jock o' the Side!"-
"Fy on ye, women! why ca' ye me man?
For it's nae man that I'm used like;
I am but like a forfoughen** hound,
Has been fighting in a dirty syke."+t
They hae had him up through Carlisle town,
And set him by the chimney fire;
They gave brave Noble a loaf to eat,
And that was little his desire.

They gave him a wheaten loaf to eat,
And after that a can of beer;
And they a' cried, with one consent,

Eat, brave Noble, and make gude cheir. "Confess my lord's horse, Hobbie," they said, "And to-morrow in Carlisle thou's na dee.". "How can I confess them," Hobbie says, "When I never saw them with my ee?"Then Hobbie has sworn a fu' great aith, By the day that he was gotten and born, He never had onything o' my lord's, That either eat him grass or corn.

"Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton !###
For I think again I'll ne'er thee see:
I wad hae betray'd nae lad alive,
For a the gowd o' Christentie.
"And fare thee weel, sweet Liddesdale!
Baith the hie land and the law;
Keep ye weel frae the traitor Mains!
For goud and gear he'll sell ye a'.

"Yet wad I rather be ca'd Hobbie Noble,
In Carlisle, where he suffers for his fau't,
Than I'd be ca'd the traitor Mains,

That eats and drinks o' the meal and maut."

ROOKHOPE RYDE.

THIS is a Bishopric Border song, composed in 1569, taken down from the chanting of George Collingwood the elder, late of Boltsburn, in the neighbourhood of Ryhope, who was interred at Stanhope, the 16th December, 1785.

Rookhope is the name of a valley about five miles in length; at the termination of which, Rookhope burn empties itself into the river Wear: the dale lies in the north part of the parish of Stanhope, in pears from the following passage in a letter from William, Lord Dacre, to Cardinal Wolsey, 18th July, 1528; Appendix to PINKERTON's Scotland, v. 12, No. XIX. Like it also your grace, seeing the disordour within Scotlaund, that all the mysguyded men, Borderers of the same, inhabiting within Eskdale, Ewsdale, Walg hopedale, Liddesdale, and a part of Tividale, foranempt Bewcas telldale, and a part of the Middle Marches of this the King's Bordours, entres not this West and Middle Marches, to do any attemplate to the King our said soveraine's subjects: but thaye come thorow Bewcastelldale, and retornes, for the most parte, the same waye agayne." Goud-i. e. begoud-began.

¶ A street in Carlisle. * Syke-Ditch.

**

Forfoughen-Quite fatigued.

11 Of the Castle of Mangertoun, so often mentioned in these ballads, there are very few vestiges. It was situated on the banks of the Liddell, below Castletoun. In the wall of a neighbouring mill, which has been entirely built from the ruins of the tower, there is a remarkable stone, bearing the arms of the Lairds of Mangertoun, and a long broadsword, with the figures 1583; probably the date of building, or repairing, the castle. On each side of the shield are the letters S. A. and E. E., standing probably for Symon Armstrong and Elizabeth Elliott. Such is the only memorial of the Lairds of Mangertoun, except those rude ballads which the Editor now offers to the public.