The Foray of Elibank
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drawing of Mucklemouth Meg at Abbotsford |
Taken from The Murrays of Elibank by Arthur C Murray, Douglas & Foulis, 1917.
Oh, wha hasna heard o' bauld Juden Murray,
The Lord o' Elibank Castle sae high?
An' wha hasna heard o' that notable foray,
When Willie o' Harden was catched wi' the kye?
Auld Harden was ever the king o' gude fellows,
His tables were filled in the room an' the ha';
But peace on the Border, that thinned his keyloes,
An' want for his lads was the warst thing of a'.
Young Harden was bauld of heart as a lion,
An' langed his skil an' his courage to try:
Stout Willie o' Fauldshope ae night he did cry on,
Frae danger or peril wha never wad fly.
'O Willie, ye ken our retainers are mony,
Our kye they rowt thin on the loan an' the lea;
A drove we maun hae for our pastures sae bonny,
Or Harden's ae cow ance again we may see.
'Fain wad I, but darena, gang over the Border;
Buccleuch wad restrain us, an' ruin us quite;
He's bound to keep a' the wide marches in order:
Then where shall we gae, an' we'll venture tonight?'
O master, ye ken how the Murrays have ground you,
An' aften caroused on your beef an' your veal;
Yet spite o' your wiles an' your spies, they hae shunned you:
A Murray is kittler to catch than the deil.
'Sly Juden o' Ell's grown doyted an' silly,
He sits wi' his women frae morning till e'en;
Yet three hunder gude kye has the thrifty auld billy,
As fair sleekit keyloes as ever were seen.'
'If we had his kye in the byres of Aekwood,
He's welcome to claim them the best way he can:
Right sair he'll be puzzled his title to make good,
For a' he's a cunning an' dexterous man.'
Auld Juden he strayed by the side o' the river,
When loud cried the warder on Haginshaw height,
'Ho, Juden, take care, or you're ruined for ever!
The bugle of Aekwood is sounding to-night.'
'Ha, faith!' then quo' Juden, 'they've nae men to lippen;
I wonder sae lang frae a fray they could cease.
Gae blaw the wee horn, gar my villains come trippin':
I have o'er mony kye to get restit in peace.'
Wi' that, a swaup fellow came puffin' and blawin',
Frae high Philip-cairn a' the gate he had run:
'O Juden, be handy, an countna the lawin,
But warn well an' arm well, or else ye're undone!'
Nae sooner was Willie gane over the height,
Than up start the Murrays, an' fiercely set on;
An' sic a het fight, i' the howe o' the night,
In the forest of Ettrick has never been known.
Soon weapons were clashing, an' fire was flashing,
An' red ran the bluid down the Ashiesteel brae:
The parties were shouting, the kye they were rowting,
An' rattling an' galloping aff frae the fray.
But tho' weapons were clashing, an' the fire it was flashing,
Tho' the wounded an' dying did dismally groan,
Tho' parties were shouting, the kye they came rowting,
An' Willie o' Harden drave heedlessly on.
In vain was their valour, in vain was their skill,
In vain has young Harden a multitude slain;
By numbers o'erpowered, they were slaughtered at will,
An' Willie o' Harden was prisoner ta'en.
The lady o' Elibank raise wi' the dawn,
An' she wakened auld Juden, an' to him did say, --
'Pray, what will ye do wi' this gallant young man?'
'We'll hang him,' quo' Juden, 'this very same day.'
'Wad ye hang sic a brisk an' a gallant young heir,
An' has three hamely daughters aye suffering neglect?
Though laird o' the best o' the Forest sae fair,
He'll marry the warst for the sake o' his neck.
'Despise not the lad for a perilous feat;
He's a friend will bestead you, an' stand by you still;
The laird maun hae men, an' the men maun hae meat,
An' the meat maun be had, be the danger what will.'
Then owre his left knee Juden laid his huge leg,
An' he mused an' he thought that his lady was right.
'By heaven,' said he, 'he shall marry my Meg;
I dreamed, an' I dreamed o' her a' the last night.'
Now Meg was but thin, an' her nose it was lang,
An' her mou' it was muckle as ane could weel be;
Her een they were gray, an' her colour was wan;
But her nature was generous, gentle, an' free.
Her shape it was slender, her manners refined,
Her shoulders were clad wi' her lang dusky hair,
An' three times mair beauties adorned her mind,
Than' mony a ane's that was three times as fair.
Poor Will wi' a guard was brought into a ha',
Ae end hung wi' black, an' the ither full fair;
There Juden's three daughters sat in a raw,
An' himsel' at the head in a twa-elbow chair.
'Now, Will, as ye're young, an' I hope ye may mend,
On the following condition I grant ye your life: --
That ye be mair wary, an' auld Juden's friend,
An' accept o' my daughter there Meg for your wife.
'My Meg, I assure you, is better than bonnie;
I rede you, in choicing let prudence decide;
Then say which ye will; ye are welcome to ony;
See, there is your coffin, or there is your bride.'
'Lead on to the gallows, then,' Willie replied,
I'm now in your power, an' ye carry it high;
Nae daughter o' yours shall ere lie by my side;
A Scott, ye maun mind, counts it naething to die.'
'Amen! then,' quo' Juden, 'your raid you shall rue,
Gae lead out the reaver loun straight to his deide;
My Meg, let me tell him 's the best o' the two:
An' bring him the bedesman, for great is his need.'
When Will saw the tether drawn over the tree,
His courage misgae him, his heart it grew sair;
He watched Juden's face an' he watched his ee,
But the devil a scrap of reluctance was there.
He fand the last gleam of his hope was a fadin';
The green braes o' Harden nae mair he wad see.
The coffin was there, which he soon must be laid in;
His proud heart was humbled, -- he fell on his knee:
'O sir, but ye're hurried -- I humbly implore ye,
To grant me three days to examine my mind;
To think on my sins, an' the prospect before me,
An' balance your offer of freedom sae kind.'
'My friendship ye spurned; my daughter ye scorned;
Forthwith in the air ye shall flaff at the spauld:
A preciouser villain my tree ne'er adorned;
Hang a rogue when he's young, he'll steal nane when he's auld.
'Then here is my daughter's hand, there is the rood,
This moment take the one or the other the niest;
'Tis all for your country an' countrymen's good --
See, there is the hangman, or here is the priest.'
But Willie now faud he was fairly i' the wrang,
That marriage an' death were twa different things.
'What matter,' quo' he, 'though her nose it be lang?
For noses bring luck, an' it's welcome that brings.
'There's something weel-faurd in her soncy gray een,
But they're better than nane, an ane's life is sae sweet;
An', what though her mou' be the maist I hae seen?
Faith, muckle-mou'd fock hae a luck for their meat.'
That day they were wedded, that night they were bedded,
An' Juden has feasted them gaily an' free;
But aft the bridegroom has he rallied an' bladded,
What faces he made at the big hanging tree.
So Willie took Meg to the forest sae fair,
An' they lived a most happy an' social life;
The langer he kend her, he lo'ed her the mair,
For a prudent, a virtuous, and honourable wife.
An' muckle guid bluid frae that union has flowed,
An' mony a brave fellow, an' mony a brave feat;
I darena just say they are a' muckle mou'd,
But they rather have still a guid luck for their meat.
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