Northumberland Yesterday and To-day Part 17

And he that had a bonnie boy, Sent out his horse to gra.s.s; And he that had not a bonnie boy, His ain servant he was.

And up then spake a little foot-page, Before the peep o' dawn-- "O waken, waken ye, my good lord, The Percy is hard at hand!"

"Ye lee, ye lee, ye leear loud!

Sae loud I hear ye lee!

For Percy had not men yestreen To dight my men and me!"

"But I hae dreamed a dreary dream, Beyond the Isle of Skye; I saw a dead man win a fight, An' I think that man was I."

He belted on his gude braid-sword, And to the field he ran; But he forgot his helmet good, That should have kept his brain.

When Percy wi' the Douglas met I wat he was fu' fain!

They swakked their swords till sair they swat, The blude ran down like rain.

But Percy, with his gude braid-sword, That could sae sharply wound, Has stricken Douglas on the brow, Till he fell to the ground.

Then he called on his little foot-page And said, "Run speedilie, And fetch my ain dear sister's son, Sir Hugh Montgomerie."

"My nephew good," the Douglas said, "What recks the death of ane?

Last night I dreamed a dreary dream, And I ken the day's thy ain.

"My wound is deep, I fain wad sleep; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the bracken bush That grows on yonder lilye lea.

"O bury me by the bracken bush, Beneath the bloomin' brier; Let never a living mortal ken That ever a kindly Scot lies here."

He lifted up that n.o.ble lord, Wi' the saut tear in his e'e; He hid him in the bracken bush That his merrie men might not see.

The moon was clear, the day drew near, The speres in flinders flew, And mony a gallant Englishman Ere day the Scotsmen slew.

The Gordons gude, in English blude They steeped their hose and shoon; The Lindsays flew like fire about Till a' the fray was dune.

The Percy and Montgomerie met, And either of other was fain; They swakked swords, and sair they swat, And the blude ran doun like rain.

"Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy!" he cried; "Or else will I lay thee low."

"To whom sall I yield?" quoth Erle Percy, "Sin I see it maun be so."

"Thou shalt not yield to lord or loon, Nor yet shalt thou yield to me, But thou shalt yield to the bracken bush That grows on yon lilye lea."

"I will not yield to a bracken bush; Nor yet will I yield to a brier; But I would yield to Erle Douglas, Or Hugh Montgomerie if he were here."

As soon as he knew it was Montgomerie He stuck his sword's-point in the gronde; The Montgomerie was a courteous knight, And quickly took him by the honde.

This deed was done at the Otterbourne, About the breaking of the day; Erle Douglas was buried at the bracken bush.

And the Percy led captive away.

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 spates fa' fast frae her e'e.

Then up and spoke our guid auld laird-- "What news, what news, sister Downie, to me?"

"Bad news, bad news, for Michael is killed, And they hae taken my son Johnnie."

"Ne'er fear, sister Downie," quo' Mangerton, "I have yokes of owsen, twenty and three, My barns, my byres, and my faulds a' weel filled, I'll part wi' them a' ere Johnnie shall dee.

"Three men I'll send to set him free, A' harnessed wi' the best o' steel; The English loons may hear, and drie The weight o' their braid-swords to feel.

"The Laird's Jock ane, the Laird's Wat twa, O Hobbie n.o.ble, thou ane maun be!

Thy coat is blue, thou has 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 so great, They banished him ne'er to return.

Laird Mangerton them orders gave, "Your horses the wrang way maun be shod; Like gentlemen ye maunna seem, But look like corn-cadgers ga'en the road.

"Your armour gude ye maunna show, Nor yet appear like men of weir; As country lads be a' array'd, Wi' branks and brecham on each mare."

Sae their horses are the wrang way shod, And Hobbie has mounted his gray 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 a' light doun, And there wi' the help o' 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 wrung; With fute or hand he ne'er played pa!

His life and his keys at once 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, or wakes thou, Jock o' the Side, Or art thou weary of thy thrall?"

Jock answered thus, wi' doleful tone, "Aft, aft I wake--I seldom sleep; But wha's this kens my name sae weel, And thus to ease my wae does seek."

Then out and spake 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 n.o.ble, 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 dee."

"Full fifteen stane o' Spanish iron They hae laid a' right sair or me; Wi' locks and keys I am fast bound Into this dungeon dark and dreirie!"

"Fear ye nae that," quo' the Laird's Jock; "A faint heart ne'er won 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 gar'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.