Part 9
79. All men voyded, that them stode nye, Whan the justice fell to the grounde, And the sherife fell nye hym by; Eyther had his deathës wounde.
80. All the citezens fast gan fle, They durst no longer abyde: There lyghtly they loosed Cloudeslee, Where he with ropes lay tyde.
81. Wyllyam stert to an officer of the towne, Hys axe out hys hand he wronge, On eche syde he smote them downe, Hym thought he had taryed too long.
82. Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two, ‘Thys daye let us lyve and die, If ever you have nede, as I have now, The same shall you finde by me.’
83. They shot so well in that tyde, For theyr stringes were of silke ful sure, That they kept the stretes on every side; That batayle did long endure.
84. They fought together as brethren true, Lyke hardy men and bolde, Many a man to the ground they threw, And made many an hertë colde.
85. But whan their arrowes were all gon, Men presyd on them full fast, They drew theyr swordës than anone, And theyr bowës from them cast.
86. They went lyghtlye on theyr way, Wyth swordes and buclers round; By that it was the myddes of the day, They had made many a wound.
87. There was many an out-horne in Carleil blowen, And the belles backward dyd they ryng, Many a woman sayde ‘Alas!’ And many theyr handes dyd wryng.
88. The mayre of Carlile forth com was, And wyth hym a full great route: These three yemen dred hym full sore, For theyr lyvës stode in doute.
89. The mayre came armed, a full great pace, With a polaxe in hys hande; Many a strong man wyth him was, There in that stoure to stande.
90. The mayre smote at Cloudesle with his bil, Hys bucler he brast in two, Full many a yoman with great yll, ‘Alas! Treason,’ they cryed for wo. ‘Kepe we the gates fast,’ they bad, ‘That these traytours therout not go.’
91. But al for nought was that they wrought, For so fast they downe were layde, Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought, Were gotten without at a braide.
92. ‘Have here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bel, ‘Myne office I here forsake, Yf you do by my councell A newë porter ye make.’
93. He threw the keys there at theyr heads, And bad them evil to thryve, And all that letteth any good yoman To come and comfort his wyfe.
94. Thus be these good yomen gon to the wode, As lyghtly as lefe on lynde; They laugh and be mery in theyr mode, Theyr enemyes were farr behynde.
95. Whan they came to Inglyswode, Under their trysty-tre, There they found bowës full good, And arrowës great plentë.
96. ‘So help me God,’ sayd Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so fre, ‘I would we were nowe in mery Carlile, Before that fayre meynë.’
97. They set them downe, and made good chere, And eate and dranke full well. Here is a fytte of the wight yongemen: And another I shall you tell.
98. As they sat in Inglyswood, Under theyr trysty-tre, They thought they herd a woman wepe, But her they myght not se.
99. Sore syghed there fayre Alyce, and sayd, ‘Alas, that ever I see thys day! For nowe is my dere husband slayne: Alas! and wel-a-way!
100. ‘Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren, With eyther of them twayne, To show to them what him befell, My hart were out of payne.’
101. Cloudesle walked a lytle beside, And looked under the grene wood lynde, He was ware of his wife and chyldren three, Full wo in herte and mynde.
102. ‘Welcome, wyfe,’ than sayde Wyllyam, ‘Unto this trysty-tre: I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John, Thou sholde me never have se.’
103. ‘Now well is me,’ she sayd, ‘that ye be here, My harte is out of wo.’ ‘Dame,’ he sayde, ‘be mery and glad, And thanke my brethren two.’
104. ‘Herof to speake,’ said Adam Bell, ‘I-wis it is no bote: The meate, that we must supp withall, It runneth yet fast on fote.’
105. Then went they downe into a launde, These noble archares all thre; Eche of them slew a hart of grece, The best they cold there se.
106. ‘Have here the best, Alyce my wyfe,’ Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslye, ‘By cause ye so boldly stode me by Whan I was slayne full nye.’
107. Than went they to theyr suppere Wyth suche meate as they had; And thanked God of ther fortune: They were both mery and glad.
108. And when they had supped well, Certayne withouten lease, Cloudesle sayd, ‘We wyll to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace.
109. ‘Alyce shal be at sojournyng In a nunnery here besyde; My two sonnes shall wyth her go, And there they shall abyde.
110. ‘Myne eldest son shall go wyth me; For hym have I no care: And he shall bring you worde agayn, How that we do fare.’
111. Thus be these wight men to London gone, As fast as they maye hye, Tyll they came to the kynges pallace; There they woulde nedës be.
112. And whan they came to the kyngës courte, Unto the pallace gate, Of no man wold they aske leave, But boldly went in therat.
113. They presyd prestly into the hall, Of no man had they dreade: The porter came after, and dyd them calle, And with them began to chyde.
114. The usher sayde, ‘Yemen, what wold ye have? I pray you tell to me: You myght thus make offycers shent: Good syrs, of whence be ye?’
115. ‘Syr, we be outlawes of the forest Certayne withouten lease; And hyther we be come to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace.’
116. And whan they came before the kyng, As it was the lawe of the lande, They kneled downe without lettyng, And eche held up his hand.
117. They sayed, ‘Lord, we beseche you here, That ye wyll graunt us grace; For we have slayne your fat falow dere In many a sondry place.’
118. ‘What is your names,’ than said our king, ‘Anone that you tell me?’ They sayd, ‘Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’
119. ‘Be ye those theves,’ than sayd our kyng, ‘That men have tolde of to me? Here to God I make a vowe, Ye shal be hanged al thre.
120. ‘Ye shal be dead without mercy, As I am kynge of this lande.’ He commanded his officers everichone, Fast on them to lay hande.
121. There they toke these good yemen, And arested them al thre: ‘So may I thryve,’ sayd Adam Bell, ‘Thys game lyketh not me.
122. ‘But, good lorde, we beseche you now, That ye wyll graunt us grace, Insomuche as we be to you comen, Or elles that we may fro you passe,
123. ‘With such weapons, as we have here, Tyll we be out of your place; And yf we lyve this hondred yere, We wyll aske you no grace.’
124. ‘Ye speake proudly,’ sayd the kynge; ‘Ye shall be hanged all thre.’ ‘That were great pitye,’ sayd the quene, ‘If any grace myght be.
125. ‘My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande To be your wedded wyfe, The fyrst boone that I would aske, Ye would graunt me belyfe:
126. ‘And I asked you never none tyll now; Therefore, good lorde, graunt it me.’ ‘Now aske it, madam,’ sayd the kynge, ‘And graunted shal it be.’
127. ‘Than, good lord, I you beseche, These yemen graunt you me.’ ‘Madame, ye myght have asked a boone, That shuld have been worth them thre.
128. ‘Ye myght have asked towres, and townes, Parkes and forestes plentie.’ ‘None soe pleasant to my pay,’ shee sayd; ‘Nor none so lefe to me.’
129. ‘Madame, sith it is your desyre, Your askyng graunted shal be; But I had lever have given you Good market townës thre.’
130. The quene was a glad woman, And sayde, ‘Lord, gramarcy; I dare undertake for them, That true men shal they be.
131. ‘But, good lord, speke som mery word, That comfort they may se.’ ‘I graunt you grace,’ than sayd our kyng; ‘Washe, felos, and to meate go ye.’
132. They had not setten but a whyle Certayne without lesynge, There came messengers out of the north With letters to our kyng.
133. And whan they came before the kynge, They kneled downe upon theyr kne; And sayd, ‘Lord, your officers grete you well, Of Carlile in the north cuntre.’
134. ‘How fareth my justice,’ sayd the kyng, ‘And my sherife also?’ ‘Syr, they be slayne, without lesynge, And many an officer mo.’
135. ‘Who hath them slayne?’ sayd the kyng; ‘Anone thou tell me.’ ‘Adam Bell, and Clim of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudesle.’
136. ‘Alas for rewth!’ than said our kynge: ‘My hart is wonderous sore; I had lever than a thousande pounde, I had knowne of thys before;
137. ‘For I have y-graunted them grace, And that forthynketh me: But had I knowne all thys before, They had been hanged all thre.’
138. The kyng opened the letter anone, Himselfe he red it tho, And founde how these thre outlawes had slain Thre hundred men and mo:
139. Fyrst the justice, and the sheryfe, And the mayre of Carlile towne; Of all the constables and catchipolles Alyve were left not one:
140. The baylyes, and the bedyls both, And the sergeauntes of the law, And forty fosters of the fe, These outlawes had y-slaw:
141. And broke his parks, and slayne his dere; Over all they chose the best; So perelous out-lawes as they were Walked not by easte nor west.
142. When the kynge this letter had red, In hys harte he syghed sore: ‘Take up the table,’ anone he bad, ‘For I may eat no more.’
143. The kyng called his best archars To the buttes wyth hym to go: ‘I wyll se these felowes shote,’ he sayd, ‘That in the north have wrought this wo.’
144. The kynges bowmen buske them blyve. And the quenes archers also; So dyd these thre wyght yemen; With them they thought to go.
145. There twyse or thryse they shote about For to assay theyr hande; There was no shote these thre yemen shot. That any prycke myght them stand.
146. Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudesle; ‘By God that for me dyed, I hold hym never no good archar, That shoteth at buttes so wyde.’
147. ‘Whereat?’ than sayd our king, ‘I pray thee tell me.’ ‘At suche a but, syr,’ he sayd. ‘As men use in my countree.’
148. Wyllyam wente into a fyeld, And his two brethren with him: There they set up two hasell roddes Twenty score paces betwene.
149. ‘I hold him an archar,’ said Cloudesle, ‘That yonder wande cleveth in two.’ ‘Here is none suche,’ sayd the kyng, ‘Nor none that can so do.’
150. ‘I shall assaye, syr,’ sayd Cloudesle, ‘Or that I farther go.’ Cloudesly with a bearyng arowe Clave the wand in two.
151. ‘Thou art the best archer,’ then said the king, ‘Forsothe that ever I se.’ ‘And yet for your love,’ sayd Wyllyam, ‘I wyll do more maystry.
152. ‘I have a sonne is seven yere olde, He is to me full deare; I wyll hym tye to a stake; All shall se, that be here;
153. ‘And lay an apple upon hys head, And go syxe score paces hym fro, And I my selfe with a brode arow Shall cleve the apple in two.’
154. ‘Now haste thee then sayd the kyng, ‘By hym that dyed on a tre; But yf thou do not as thou hest sayde, Hanged shalt thou be.
155. ‘And thou touche his head or gowne, In syght that men may se, By all the sayntes that be in heaven, I shall hange you all thre.’
156. ‘That I have promised,’ said William, ‘I wyll it never forsake.’ And there even before the kynge In the earth he drove a stake:
157. And bound therto his eldest sonne, And bad hym stand styll thereat; And turned the childes face fro him, Because he should not stert.
158. An apple upon his head he set, And then his bowe he bent: Syxe score paces they were outmet, And thether Cloudesle went.
159. There he drew out fayre brode arrowe, Hys bowe was great and longe, He set that arrowe in his bowe, That was both styffe and stronge.
160. He prayed the people, that wer there, That they wold still stand, For he that shoteth for such a wager Behoveth a stedfast hand.
161. Muche people prayed for Cloudesle, That his lyfe saved myght be, And whan he made hym redy to shote, There was many a weeping eye.
162. Thus Cloudesle clefte the apple in two, That many a man it se: ‘Over Gods forbode,’ sayde the kinge, ‘That thou sholdest shote at me.
163. ‘I geve thee eightene pence a day, And my bowe shalt thou bere, And over all the north countre I make the chyfe rydere.’
164. ‘And I give thee twelve pence a day,’ said the quene, ‘By God and by my fay; Come feche thy payment whan thou wylt, No man shall say thee nay.’
165. ‘Wyllyam, I make thee gentleman Of clothyng and of fe: And thy two brethren yemen of my chambre, For they are so semely to see.
166. ‘Your sonne, for he is tendre of age, Of my wyne-seller shall he be; And whan he commeth to mannës state, Better avaunced shall he be.’
167. ‘And, Wyllyam, bring me your wife,’ said the quene, ‘Me longeth sore her to see: She shall be my chefe gentlewoman, And governe my nursery.’
168. The yemen thanked them full curteously; And sayd, ‘To Rome streyght wyll we wend, Of all the synnes that we have done To be assoyled of his hand.’
169. So forth be gone these good yemen, As fast as they might hye; And after came and dwelled with the kynge, And dyed good men all thre.
170. Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen; God send them eternall blysse, And all that with hand-bowe shoteth, That of heven they may never mysse!
[Annotations: 4.4: ‘Englyshe-wood,’ Inglewood, reaching from Carlisle to Penrith, in Cumberland. 5.1: ‘lith,’ hearken. 9.2: ‘pryme,’ about 9 a.m. Cp. 72.2. 15.3: ‘found,’ provided for. 18.4: ‘meed,’ reward. 26.4: ‘brest,’ burst, was broken. 29.3: ‘brenne,’ burn. 32.4: ‘wreke,’ avenge. 35.1: ‘Lever,’ rather. 35.2: ‘renne,’ run. 35.3: ‘wode,’ fierce. 36.3: ‘in prece,’ in a press, crowded. 45.3: ‘wight,’ active. 48.4: ‘teene,’ sorrow. 50.3: ‘borowe,’ redeem, liberate. 56.4: ‘thronge,’ pressed, hastened. 61.2: ‘lordane,’ sluggard: ‘wode,’ mad. 68.4: ‘stound,’ time. 69.3: ‘squyers’: an earlier text gives ‘swerers.’ 72.2: ‘pryme’; see 9.3, note. 87.1: Horns blown to call the citizens to support the civil authorities. 89.4: ‘stoure,’ fight, disturbance. 91.4: ‘at a braide,’ in a moment. 93.3: ‘letteth,’ hinders. 94.3: ‘lynde,’ tree: cp. 101.2. Here perhaps it means linden. 96.4: ‘meynë,’ troop, company. 104.2: ‘no bote,’ no boot, _i.e._ no advantage. 105.1: ‘launde,’ lawn, glade, clearing. 105.3: ‘a hart of grece,’ a fat hart (Fr. graisse). 108.2: ‘lease,’ falsehood. Cp. 115.2, 132.2, 134.3, _et passim_. 113.1: ‘presily,’ promptly. 114.3: ‘shent,’ scolded, blamed. 125.4: ‘belyfe,’ immediately. The word is spelled in many ways. 128.3: ‘pay,’ satisfaction. 136.1: ‘rewth,’ pity. 137.2: ‘forthynketh me,’ seems serious to me, troubles me. 139.3: ‘catchipolles,’ sheriff’s officers. 140.3: ‘fosters of the fe,’--‘a person who had for some service to the crown a perpetual right of hunting in a forest on paying to the crown a certain rent for the same.’ --Halliwell. 144.1: prepared themselves instantly. 150.3: ‘bearyng arowe,’ ? a very long arrow, such as requires to be carried in the hand. Cf. _Sir Andrew Barton_, 53.3. 155.1: ‘And,’ if. 158.3: ‘outmet,’ measured out. 165.2: ‘fe,’ money.]
JOHNNY O’ COCKLEY’S WELL
+The Text+ is taken almost entirely from a copy which was sent in 1780 to Bishop Percy by a Miss Fisher of Carlisle; in the last half of the first stanza her version gives, unintelligibly:
‘But little knew he that his bloody hounds Were bound in iron bands’:
and I have therefore substituted lines from a later text. The correction in 20.1 and 21.1 is also essential.
+The Story+ will be familiar to many as _Johnie of Breadislee_, a title given by Sir Walter Scott to his version, the first that was published, in the _Minstrelsy_ (1802). In the present version, however, Johnny certainly belongs to Cockley’s Well, Bradyslee being only the name of his hunting-ground. In other variants, his name is Johnny Cock, Johnny Cox, Johnny o’ Cockis, o’ Cockerslee, of Cockielaw, of Cocklesmuir, or Johnny Brad. The name of the hunting-ground varies also, though not so widely; and, as usual, the several editors of the ballad have carefully noted that its topography (though the nomenclature is corrupted) connects it with this district or that--Percy’s ballad is Northumbrian, Scott’s is of Dumfriesshire.
Percy considered that the mention of wolves (17.1) was an indication of the antiquity of the ballad; whereupon Child quotes Holinshed (1577) as saying that ‘though the island is void of wolves south of the Tweed, yet the Scots cannot boast the like, since they have grievous wolves.’ Yet how can one reconcile the mention of wolves with the reference to ‘American leather’ (13.3)?
Professor Child calls this a ‘precious specimen of the unspoiled traditional ballad,’ and Professor Gummere points out that ‘it goes with a burden, this sterling old song, and has traces of an incremental repetition that has been reduced to lowest terms by impatient transcribers’ (_The Popular Ballad_, p. 268). In his _Old English Ballads_ Gummere gives a text very ingeniously compounded of Percy’s and Kinloch’s; and Professor Brandl has attempted to restore the original text.
JOHNNY O’ COCKLEY’S WELL
1. Johnny he has risen up i’ the morn, Call’d for water to wash his hands; And he has called for his good grey-hounds That lay bound in iron bands, _bands_, _That lay bound in iron bands_.
2. Johnny’s mother has gotten word o’ that, And care-bed she has taen. ‘O Johnny, for my benison, I beg you’ll stay at hame; For the wine so red, and the well-baken bread, My Johnny shall want nane.
3. ‘There are seven forsters at Pickeram Side, At Pickeram where they dwell, And for a drop of thy heart’s bluid They wad ride the fords of hell.’
4. Johnny he’s gotten word of that, And he’s turned wondrous keen; He’s put off the red scarlet, And he’s put on the Lincoln green.
5. With a sheaf of arrows by his side, And a bent bow in his hand, He’s mounted on a prancing steed, And he has ridden fast o’er the strand.
6. He’s up i’ Bradyslee, and down i’ Bradyslee, And under a buss o’ broom; And there he found a good dun deer Feeding in a buss of ling.
7. Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap, And she lap wondrous wide, Until they came to the wan water, And he stem’d her of her pride.
8. He has taen out the little pen-knife, ‘Twas full three quarters long, And he has taen out of that dun deer The liver but and the tongue.
9. They eat of the flesh, and they drank of the blood, And the blood it was so sweet, Which caused Johnny and his bloody hounds To fall in a deep sleep.
10. By then came an old palmer, And an ill death may he die! For he’s away to Pickeram Side, As fast as he can drie.
11. ‘What news, what news?’ says the Seven Forsters, ‘What news have ye brought to me?’ ‘I have no news,’ the palmer said, ‘But what I saw with my eye.
12. ‘High up i’ Bradyslee, low down i’ Bradyslee, And under a buss of scroggs, O there I spied a well-wight man Sleeping among his dogs.
13. ‘His coat it was of the light Lincoln, And his breeches of the same, His shoes of the American leather, And gold buckles tying them.’
14. Up bespake the Seven Forsters, Up bespake they ane and a’: ‘O that is Johnny o’ Cockley’s Well, And near him we will draw.’
15. O the first ae stroke that they gae him, They struck him off by the knee; Then up bespake his sister’s son: ‘O the next’ll gar him die!’
16. ‘O some they count ye well-wight men, But I do count ye nane; For you might well ha’ waken’d me, And ask’d gin I wad be taen.
17. ‘The wildest wolf in a’ this wood Wad not ha’ done so by me; She’d ha’ wet her foot i’ th’ wan water, And sprinkled it o’er my bree, And if that wad not ha’ waken’d me, She wad ha’ gone and let me be.
18. ‘O bows of yew, if ye be true, In London, where ye were bought, Fingers five, get up belive, Manhuid shall fail me nought.’
19. He has kill’d the Seven Forsters, He has kill’d them all but ane, And that wan scarce to Pickeram Side, To carry the bode-words hame.
20. ‘Is there never a bird in a’ this wood That will tell what I can say; That will go to Cockley’s Well, Tell my mither to fetch me away?’
21. There was a bird into that wood, That carried the tidings away, And many ae was the well-wight man At the fetching o’ Johnny away.
[Annotations: 1.2-5: From Kinloch’s version. The final repetition, here printed in italics, forms the burden in singing, and is to be repeated, _mutatis mutandis_, in each verse. 2.2: ‘care-bed,’ the bed of sickness due to anxiety. 3.1: ‘forsters,’ foresters, woodmen. 6.1: The MS. reads ‘Braidhouplee’ for the first ‘Bradyslee.’ 6.2: ‘buss,’ bush. 7.1: ‘lap,’ leapt. 7.4: ‘stem’d,’ stopped, stayed. 8.4: ‘but and,’ and. 10.4: ‘drie,’ hold out, be able. 12.2: ‘scroggs,’ underwood. 12.3: ‘well-wight,’ stalwart. 13.3: ‘American leather.’ A patent for making morocco from American horsehides was granted c. 1799, but the date of this text is twenty years earlier than that date. 15.1: ‘ae’ (y in the MS.), one. Cf. 21.3. 18.3: ‘belive,’ quickly. 19.3: ‘wan,’ won, reached. 19.4: The MS. gives ‘bord (or bood) words.’ 20.1, 21.1: The MS. gives ‘boy’ for ‘bird.’]
THE OUTLAW MURRAY
+The Text+ is derived, with trivial alterations, from Herd’s MSS. In the first edition of the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, Scott says the principal copy he employed was one ‘apparently of considerable antiquity’ among the papers of Mrs. Cockburn; he also made use of Herd’s MS. and the Glenriddell MS. In the second edition of the _Minstrelsy_ he made further additions, including one of three stanzas between 52 and 58 of the present version, which makes reference to an earlier Sir Walter Scott.
+The Story+ of this Scots outlaw makes tame reading after those which precede it in this volume. The ballad was inserted at the end of Child’s collection only because he preferred ‘to err by including rather than excluding.’ He adds, ‘I am convinced that it did not begin its existence as a popular ballad, and I am not convinced that (as Scott asserts) it has been for ages a popular song in Selkirkshire.’ Nevertheless, it undoubtedly gained a place in popular tradition; and this, while entitling it to a place here, renders the elaborate historical investigation, to which it has been submitted since Child’s edition, a waste of erudition and ingenuity.
THE OUTLAW MURRAY
1. Ettrick Forest is a fair forest, In it grows many a seemly tree; The hart, the hynd, the doe, the roe, And of a’ wild beastis great plentie.