Chapter XXVIII Dick o’ the Cow
“Fair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say
‘Billie, a-riding we will gae.’”
The ballad of this name, a popular one in Liddesdale, relates, like that of Kinmont Willie, to the time when Lord Scroope was Warden of the West Marches and Governor of Carlisle. Dick o’ the Cow seems to have been his fool or jester. Dickie, some years after the events described in the ballad, fell a victim to the vengeance of the Armstrongs.
There had been no raids from Liddesdale for a considerable time, and no riding, and the horses had all grown so fat that they dare scarcely stir out of the stall. Then fair Johnie Armstrong said to his brother Willie, “Brother, we will go a-riding. We have long been at feud with England, and perhaps we shall find some spoil.”
So they rode to Hulton Hall and round about it, but the laird, a wise man, had left neither goods nor cattle outside to steal, except six sheep in a meadow. Said Johnie, “I’d rather die in England than take those six sheep to Liddesdale.”
“But who was that man we last met as we came over the hill?”
“Oh, he is an innocent fool, and men call him Dick o’ the Cow.”
“That fool has three good cows of his own, as good as there are in Cumberland. Betide me life or death, they shall go to Liddesdale with me!”
So they came to the house of the poor fool, broke down his thick wall, loosed his three cows, and took also three coverlets from his wife’s bed.
In the morning at daylight when the loss was discovered, there were loud lamentations. “Hold thy tongue, wife,” said Dickie, “and stop thy crying. I’ll bring thee back three cows for each one that thou hast lost.”
So Dickie went to Lord Scroope. “Hold thy tongue, fool,” said Scroope. “I have no time for jesting.”
“A shame on your jesting, my lord!” said Dickie, “jesting agrees not with me. Liddesdale was in my house last night and has taken my three cows. I can no longer dwell in Cumberland as your poor faithful fool, unless you give me leave to steal in Liddesdale.”
“I give thee leave, fool!” said Scroope; “but thou speakest against me and my honour unless thou give me thy hand and pledge that thou wilt steal from none but those who stole from thee.”
“There is my right hand and pledge! May my head hang on Haribee, and may I never again cross Carlisle sands if I steal from any man who stole not from me.”,
Dickie joyfully took leave of his lord and master, and went and bought a bridle and a pair of new spurs which he packed up in the thigh of his breeches, then he came on as fast as he could to Pudding-burn house, where were thirty-three Armstrongs.
“O what has come to me now?” said Dickie, “what great trouble is this? For here is but one innocent fool against thirty-three Armstrongs?” Yet he went courteously up to the Hall board.
“Well may ye be, my good Laird’s Jock, but the devil bless all your company. I’m come to complain of your man, Johnie Armstrong, and of his brother Willie, that they came to my house last night and took away my three cows.”
Quoth fair Johnie Armstrong, “We’ll hang him.”
“Nay,” said Willie, “we’ll slay him.”
But up spoke another young Armstrong, “We’ll give him a thrashing and let him go.”
Then up spoke the good Laird’s Jock, the best fellow in all the company, “Sit down a while, Dickie, and we’ll give thee a bit of thine own cow’s thigh.”
Dickie’s heart was so sore that he could not eat a bit, but he went and lay down in an old peat-house where he thought to sleep the night, and all the prayers the poor fool prayed were, “I wish I had amends for my three good cows.”
Now it was the custom of Pudding-burn house and of the house of Mangerton, whose laird was chief of the Armstrong clan, that any who came not to the table at the first summons got no more meat till the next meal, so some of the lads, hungry and weary, had thrown the key of the stable above the door-head. Dickie took good notice of that to turn it to his own account, went into the stable where stood thirty-three horses and tied thirty of them with St Mary’s knot, tight to their stalls.
Of the remaining three, Dickie took two, which belonged to Johnie and Willie Armstrong, and the one belonging to the Laird’s Jock he left loose in the stable. Leaping on one, he took the other along with him, and rode off as fast as he could.
When day came, there were great shouts and cries.
“Who has done this,” quoth the good Laird’s Jock; “see that ye tell me the truth.”
“It is Dickie that has been in the stable last night, and has taken the horses.”
“Ye never would listen to me,” said the good Laird’s Jock, “though I told ye true tales. Ye would never stay out of England but would steal everything, till ye were crooked and blind.”
“Lend me thy bay,” said fair Johnie; “he is the only horse loose in the stable, and I’ll either fetch back Dick o’ the Cow, or he shall die.”
“Lend thee my bay!” said Jock; “he is worth gold and good money. Dick o’ the Cow has taken two horses; I would not ye make them three.”
Johnie, however, took the Laird’s steel jacket on his back, and a two-handed sword by his side, and a steel cap on his head, and galloped after Dickie, who was barely three miles from the town when Johnie overtook him on Cannobie Lee, on the borders of Liddesdale.
“Abide, abide, thou traitor thief!” cried Armstrong; “the day is come that thou shalt die!”
Dickie looked over his left shoulder and said, “Johnie, hast thou no more in thy company? There is a preacher in our chapel who teaches all the livelong day, and when day is gone and night has come, there are only three words I remember—the first and second are Faith and Conscience—the third is ‘Ne’er let a traitor free.’ What faith and conscience was thine, Johnie, when thou tookest away my three cows? And when thou hadst taken them away, thou wast not satisfied. Thou sentest thy brother Willie, and took away three coverlets off my wife’s bed!”
Then Johnie let his spear fall low by his side, and thought he would have killed Dickie, but the powers above were stronger than he, and he only succeeded in running through the fool’s jerkin. Dickie out with his sword and ran after him, and when he could not get at him with the blade, he felled him with the butt-end over the eye, felled Johnie Armstrong, the finest man in the south country. “Gramercy,” said Dickie, “I had but two horses, thou hast made them three!”—and he took Johnie’s steel jacket off his back and his two-handed sword, and his steel cap. “Farewell, Johnie,” said he, “I’ll tell my master I met thee.”
When Johnie wakened out of his swoon, he was a sad man. “Art thou gone, Dickie?” he said. “Then the shame and woe are left with me. Art thou gone? Then, Dickie, the devil go in thy company, for if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never again fight with a fool.”
Dickie came home to the good Lord Scroope as fast as he could. “Now, Dickie, I’ll neither eat nor drink till thou art hanged on high.” “Shame speed the liars, my lord,” said Dickie, “this was not the promise ye made me, for I would never have gone to Liddesdale to steal if I had not got leave from thee.” “But why did ye steal the Laird’s Jock’s horse? Ye might have lived long in Cumberland before the Laird’s Jock had stolen from thee.”
“Indeed, I knew ye lied, my lord. I won the horse from fair Johnie Armstrong hand to hand on Cannobie Lee. There is the jacket that was on his back, and the two-handed sword that hung by his side, and the steel cap that was on his head. I brought all these tokens to show thee.”
“If that be true that thou tellest me (and I think thou durst not lie) I’ll give thee fifteen pounds for the horse, all told out in the lap of thy cloak; I’ll give thee one of my best milk cows to maintain thy wife and three children, and they will be as good as any two of thine would be.”
“Shame speed the liars, my lord!” said Dickie. “Do ye think aye to make a fool of me? I’ll either have twenty pounds for the horse or else I’ll take him to Mortan fair.”
So Scroope gave him twenty pounds for the horse, all in gold and good money, and one of his best milk cows to maintain his wife and three children.
Then Dickie rode as fast as he could through Carlisle town, and the first man he met was my lord’s brother, Ralph Scroope, Bailiff of Glozenburrie.
“Well be ye met, Ralph Scroope!” said Dickie.
“Welcome, my brother’s fool!” said Ralph. “Where did ye get Johnie Armstrong’s horse?”
“Where did I get him? I stole him,” said Dickie.
“Wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?”
“Ay, if thou count out the money in the lap of my cloak, for never a penny will I trust thee.”
“I’ll give thee ten pounds for the horse and count it into the lap of thy cloak, and one of my best milk cows to maintain thy wife and three children.”
“Shame speed the liars, my lord! Do ye think aye to make a fool of me? I’ll either have twenty pounds for the horse, or I’ll take him to Mortan fair.”
So Ralph gave him twenty pounds for the horse, all in gold and good money, and one of his milk cows to maintain his wife and three children.
Then Dickie leaped and laughed, and cried, “May the neck of the third horse be broken if either of the two were better than he!”
So he came home to his wife and ye may judge how the poor fool had succeeded. For her three stolen coverlets he gave her two score English pounds, and two cows as good as her own three. “And here,” said he, “is a white-footed nag that I reckon will carry us both. But if I stay longer in Cumberland the Armstrongs will hang me.” So Dickie took leave of his lord and went to live at Burgh under Stanmuir.