The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 7/Chapter 203

Inverey cam doun Deeside, whistlin and playin, He was at brave Braikley's yett ere it was dawin. He rappit fu loudly and wi a great roar, Cried, Cum doun, cum doun, Braikley, and open the door. 'Are ye sleeping, Baronne, or are ye wakin? Ther's sharpe swords at your yett, will gar your blood spin. 'Open the yett, Braikley, and lat us within, Till we on the green turf gar your bluid rin.' Out spak the brave baronne, owre the castell-wa: 'Are ye cum to spulyie and plunder mi ha? 'But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum in: Gin ye drink o my wine, ye'll nae gar my bluid spin. 'Gin ye be hir'd widifus, ye may gang by, Ye may gang to the lawlands and steal their fat ky. 'Ther spulyie like rievers o wyld kettrin clan, Who plunder unsparing baith houses and lan. 'Gin ye be gentlemen, licht an cum [in], Ther's meat an drink i my ha for every man. 'Gin ye bir'd widifus, ye may gang by, Gang doun to the lawlands, and steal horse and ky.' Up spak his ladie, at his bak where she lay, 'Get up, get up, Braikley, and be not afraid; The'r but young hir'd widifus wi belted plaids.' 'Cum kiss me, mi Peggy, I'le nae langer stay, For I will go out and meet Inverey. 'But haud your tongue, Peggy, and mak nae sic din, For yon same hir'd widifus will prove themselves men.' She called on her marys, they cam to her hand; Cries, Bring me your rocks, lassies, we will them command. 'Get up, get up, Braikley, and turn bak your ky, Or me an mi women will them defy. 'Cum forth then, mi maidens, and show them some play; We'll ficht them, and shortly the cowards will fly. 'Gin I had a husband, whereas I hae nane, He woud nae ly i his bed and see his ky taen. 'Ther's four-and-twenty milk-whit calv5s, tw1l o them ky, In the woods o Glentanner, it's ther thei a' ly. 'Ther's goat i the Etnach, and sheep o the brae, An a' will be plunderd by young Inverey.' 'Now haud your tongue, Peggy, and gie me a gun, Ye'll see me gae furth, but I'll never cum in. 'Call mi brother William, mi unkl also, Mi cousin James Gordon; we'll mount and we'll go.' When Braikley was ready and stood i the closs, He was the bravest baronne that eer mounted horse. Whan all wer assembld o the castell green, No man like brave Braikley was ther to be seen . . . . . 'Turn bak, brother William, ye are a bridegroom; 'Wi bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o the mill; O sichin and sobbin she'll soon get her fill.' 'I'm no coward, brother, 'tis kend I'm a man; I'll ficht i your quarral as lang's I can stand. 'I'll ficht, my dear brother, wi heart and gude will, And so will young Harry that lives at the mill. 'But turn, mi dear brother, and nae langer stay: What'll cum o your ladie, gin Braikley thei slay? 'What'll cum o your ladie and bonnie young son? O what'll cum o them when Braikley is gone?' 'I never will turn: do you think I will fly? But here I will ficht, and here I will die.' 'Strik dogs,' crys Inverey, a+end ficht till ye're slayn, For we are four hundered, ye are but four men. 'Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your honour is gone, Your lands we will plunder, your castell we'll burn.' At the head o the Etnach the battel began, At Little Auchoilzie thei killd the first man. First thei killd ane, and soon they killd twa, Thei killd gallant Braikley, the flour o them a'. Thei killd William Gordon, and James o the Knox, And brave Alexander, the flour o Glenmuick. What sichin and moaning was heard i the glen, For the Baronne o Braikley, who basely was slayn! 'Cam ye bi the castell, and was ye in there? Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair?' 'Yes, I cam by Braikley, and I gaed in there, And there [saw] his ladie braiding her hair. 'She was rantin, and dancin, and singin for joy, And vowin that nicht she woud feest Inverey. 'She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in, Was kind to the man that had slayn her baronne.' Up spake the son on the nourice's knee, 'Gin I live to be a man, revenged I'll be.' Ther's dool i the kitchin, and mirth i the ha, The Baronne o Braikley is dead and awa.

'Baron of Brackley, are ye in there? The're sharp swords at yer yetts, winna ye spear.' If they be gentlemen, lat them cum in; But if they be reavers, we'll gar them be taen.' It is na gentlemen, nor yet pretty lads, But a curn hir'd widdifus, wears belted plaids.' She called on her women and bade them come in: 'Tack a' yer rocks, lasses, and we'll them coman. 'We'll fecht them, we'll slight them, we'll do what we can, And I vow we will shoot them altho we shod bang. 'Rise up, John,' she said, a+end turn in yer kye, For they'll hae them to the Hielands, and you they'l defie.' 'Had your still, Catharine, and still yer young son, For ye'll get me out, but I'll never cum in.' 'If I had a man, as I hae na nane, He wudna lye in his bed and see his kye tane.' 'Ye'll cum kiss me, my Peggy, and bring me my gun, For I'm gaing out, but I'll never cum in.' There was twenty wi Invery, twenty and ten; There was nane wi the baron but his brother and him. At the head of Reneeten the battle began; Ere they wan Auchoilzie, they killed mony a man. They killed Harry Gordon and Harry of the Knock, The mullertd's four sons up at Glenmuick. They killed Harry Gordon and Harry of the Knock, And they made the brave baron like kail to a pot. First they killed ane, and then they killed twa, Then they killed the brave baron, the flower o them a'. Then up came Craigievar, and a party wi him[ If he had come an hour sooner, Brackley had not been slain. 'Came ye by Brackley? and was ye in there? Or say ye his lady, was making great care?' 'I came by Brackley, and I was in there, But I saw his lady no making great care. 'For she eat wi them, drank wi them, welcomed them in; She drank to the villain that killed her guid man. 'Woe to ye, Kate Fraser! sorry may yer heart be, To see yer brave baron's blood cum to yer knee.' There is dule in the kitchen, and mirth i the ha, But the Baron o B[r]ackley is dead and awa.

O Inverey came down Dee side, whistling and playing; He's landed at Braikly's yates at the day dawing. Says, Baron of Braikly, are ye within? There's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood spin. The lady raise up, to the window she went; She heard her kye lowing oer hill and oer bent. 'O rise up, John,' she says, 'Turn back your kye; They're oer the hills rinning, they're skipping away.' 'Come to your bed, Peggie, and let the kye rin, For were I to gang out, I would never get in.' Then she's cry'd on her women, they quickly came ben: 'Take up your rocks, lassies, and fight a' like men. 'Though I'm but a woman, to head you I'll try, Nor let these vile Highland-men steal a' our kye.' Then up gat the baron, and cry'd for his graith; Says, Lady, I'll gang, tho to leave you I'm laith. 'Come, kiss me, my Peggie, nor think I'm to blame; For I may well gang out, but I'll never win in.' When the Baron of Braikly rade through the close, A gallanter baron neer mounted a horse. Tho there came wi Inverey thirty and three, There was nane wi bonny Braikly but his brother and he. Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw; But against four and thirty, wae's me, what was twa? Wi swords and wi daggers they did him surround, And they've pierc'd bonny Braikly wi mony a wound. Frae the head of the Dee to the banks of the Spey, The Gordons may mourn him, and bann Inverey. 'O came ye by Braikly, and was ye in there? Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?' 'O I came by Braikly, and I was in there, But I saw not his Peggy dear riving her hair.' 'O fye on ye, lady! how could ye do sae? You opend your yate to the faus Inverey.' She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in; She welcomd the villain that slew her baron. She kept him till morning, syne bad him be gane, And showd him the road that he woud na be tane. 'Thro Birss and Aboyne,' she says, 'lyin in a tour, Oer the hills of Glentanor you'll skip in an hour.' There is grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha, But the Baron of Braikly is dead and awa.

'Baron o Breachell, are ye within? The sharp souerd is at yer gate, Breachell, we'll gar yer blood spin.' 'Thei'r at yer gate, Breachel, the'r neither men nor lads, But fifty heard widifas, wi belted plaids.' 'O if I had a man,' she says, a+es it looks I had nane, He widna sit in the house and see my kye tane. 'But lasses tak down yer rocks, and we will defend . . . . . . . . 'O kiss me, dear Peggy, and gee me down my gun, I may well ga out, but I'll never come in.' Out spak his brither, says, Gee me yer hand; I'll fight in yer cause sae lang as I may stand. Whan the Baron o Breachell came to the closs, A braver baron neir red upon horse. . . . . . . . . I think the silly heard widifas are grown fighten men. First they killed ane, and syen they killed twa, And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. They killed Sandy Gordon, Sandy Gordon o the Knock, The miller and his three sons, that lived at Glenmuick. First they killed ane, and seyn they killed twa, And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. Up came Crigevar and a' his fighten men: 'Had I come an hour soonur, he sudna been slain.' For first they killed ane, and seyn they killed twa, And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. 'O came ye by Breachell, lads? was ye in their? Saw ye Peggy Dann riving her hair?' 'We cam by Breachell, lads, we was in there, And saw Eggie Dann cairling her hair. 'She eat wi them, drank wi them, bad them come in To her house an bours that had slain her baron. 'Come in, gentlemen, eat and drink wi me; Tho ye ha slain my baron, I ha na a wite at ye.' 'O was [ye] at Glenmuik, lads? was ye in theire? Saw ye Cathrin Gordon rivin her hair?' 'We was at Glenmuik, lads, we was in there, We saw Cathrin Gordon rivin her hair. 'Wi the tear in her eye, seven bairns at her foot, The eighth on her knee. . . The killed Peter Gordon, Peter Gordon of the Knock, The miller and his three sons, that lived at Glenmuik. First they killed ane, and syn they killed twa, And the Baron of Breachell is dead and awa.