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 a.s.sistance 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.

_d.i.c.k of the Cow_, from the privileged insolence which he a.s.sumes, seems to have been Lord Scroope's jester. In the preliminary dissertation, the reader will find the border custom of a.s.suming _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_.

_d.i.c.k 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 c.u.mberland_, Vol.

II. p. 408.

This ballad is very popular in Liddesdale; and the reciter always adds, at the conclusion, that poor d.i.c.kie'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 Woodc.o.c.ks_; 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 d.i.c.k a Cow, Be cod, was right gud gentleman, looke ye now!

_Epigr. 76_.

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k o' the Cow,"

"That fule has three as good kye o' his ain, As there are in a' c.u.mberland, 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.kie'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' d.i.c.kie, "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 c.u.mberland 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."

d.i.c.kie'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 d.i.c.kie's come on to Pudding-burn house, E'en as fast as he might drie; Then d.i.c.kie's come on to Pudding-burn, Where there were thirty Armstrangs and three.

"O what's this come o' me now?" quo' d.i.c.kie; "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 c.u.mpanie.

"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 c.u.mpanie: "Sit down thy ways a little while, d.i.c.kie, And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gie ye."

But d.i.c.kie'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 d.i.c.kie 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; d.i.c.kie he took gude notice o' that, Says--"There will be a bootie for me."

Then d.i.c.kie 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!"

d.i.c.kie 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 d.i.c.k 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; d.i.c.k o' the Cow has awa twa horse; I wish na thou may make him three."