Noble Dickie- Laidlaw (MI) 1916 Gardner
[From: Ballads and Songs of Southern Michigan by Evelyn Elizabeth Gardner and Geraldine Jencks Chickering; Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press London: Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press: 1939.
Their notes follow.
R. Matteson 2015]
84 ARCHIE O' CAWFIELD
(Secondary form, Child, No. 188)
This is a garbled text which has something in common with Child texts of "Archie o' Cawfield" (III, 484-495), but is most similar to B, printed from the Glenriddell manuscripts, XI, 14, 1791 (Child, III, 494). Compare Walter Scott's Minstrelsy of the, Scottish Border (1802), I, 177-182, and (1833) Hf 116. For recent comment see Barry, Eckstorm, and Smyth, pp. 393-400.
Mr. John Laidlaw of Ypsilanti sang the present version in 1916, the night before he died. It is transcribed from a copy made at that tame partly by Mr. Laidlaw and partly by his wife. Purely accidental errors in spelling have been corrected.
I heard three brithers resonen,
And I did hearken to what they did say.
The tane to the other did say,
"Alack an a merry we need na be,
For the night it's ma bnther's lyke-wake night,
And the morn it is his day to dee."
Then up spak mettled Jack Hall,
The luve of Tavidale ha' was he a',
"It's fow paw thee and they trade baith
That canna beat a good fellow in his misteen.
"It's ye'll get eleven men to yeself
And aye the twalt man I wad be."
Sae a' the night the twal men rode,
An a' til they were a-wearie.
An then they came to the wan water,
An it was gan like any sea.
There was a smith lived there,
Had lived for thirty years and three,
Had never seen riders sae armed,
No never in a' his life sae hastten.
"I hae a crown in my packet," says noble Dickie,
"An I will gie it every groat
Will shoe this little black mare o' mine."
7 "This night is dark and very dark,
By candle light I canna see.
This night is dark and very dark
And that no a nail gan right for mee."
8 Then up spak mettled Jack Hall,
The luve a Tavidale ha' was he,
"Shame fa' you and your trade baith
That canna beat a good fellow in his misteen."
9 Now a' the night the twal men rode
An a' till they were a-wearie,
An* till they came ta tha strong prison
Where their billie Archie did lie.
10 "Are sleepin, O brother," dee said,
"A-wakin or sleepin might I be,
For the night, it is ma lyke-wake night,
And the morn, it is my day to dee."
11 Then up spak metded Jack Hall,
The luve a Tavidale ha' was he,
"Work ye within as we work without
An a loose an a free man soon yell be."
12 "O haud thy tongue, now, Jack," he says,
"An of your lalkund (?) let me be.
13 "For there's fifteen stone o' good Spanish iron,
Locked round ma fair bodie;
Take ma servie (?) haim ta ma wife and bairn
An a' good fellows that speers for me."
14 Wi' cutlass an' a' for hammer,
They garr'd the bands gan mickle,
Till they cam to the inner prison,
Where their billie Archie he did lie.
15 "Now I've got my brither on my back.
I dinna count him the weight o' a flea."
Then up spak mettled Jack Hall,
"Ye may let some o' him lay on me."
16 Now a' the night the twal men rode,
And aye t'all they were a-wearie.
And now they came to the wan water,
And it still rolled like any sea.
17 They a' lay down an' tak a sleep,
But aye awake stood Noble Dickie,
"Rise up, rise up, ye drowsy sleepers,
Ye dinna see what I do see.
18 "Thander comes the Laird luve,
Wi' a hundred men in his company."
They a' plunged into the wan water,
Though still it run like any sea.
19 A Dickie stayed wi' his brother on his back
He didna count him the weight of a flea.
"Come back, come back, now noble Dickie,
Come back and win this fee.
20 "There's not a Saturday in a' the year
But changed your garments they shall be."
Jack clapped his hand on Dickie's shoulder,
"O will ye gan thraw and win that fee?"
21 "Wae light o' me and thy trade baith,
The other side o' the water get me."
"If ye winna come thraw now, noble Dickie,
If ye winna come thraw and win this fee,
22 "Leave me that fifteen stane a' gae Spanish iron
That ye have away wi' your brother Archie."
"I ha' a mair, they caw her Meg,
I think she's the best in our company;
23 "And as lang as there's a bit o' your Spanish iron
Barefoot shall she never be."
He clapped his hand on Cawfield's shoulder,
And merrily o'er the lee went he.
24 There's aye a life for a lively man,
And a good fellow kent wherever he be.