Jock o' the Side Now Liddesdale has ridden a raid He'd hae done better to bide at hame For Michael o' Whinfield, he is deid And Jock o' the Side is prisoner ta'en And Jock o' the Side is prisoner ta'en His mither's awa' by the waterside She's kilted her kirtle abune her knee And when she's cam' tae Mangerton The tears were rinnin' doon frae her e'e (2x) "Whit news, whit news?" the Laird he cried "Oh whit's the news ye brocht tae me?" "The news is ill my brither dear For Michael is deid and they've ta'en my Johnnie" "Oh never ye fear, my sister dear For I hae cows and ewes fu' many My barns and byres are all well filled And I'll gie them all tae save our Johnnie "There's three o' my men will ride the nicht A' harnessed wi' Toledo steel The English dogs will rue the day They'll aye remember our Johnnie well" "The Laird's Jock, ane, and the Laird's Wat, twa And Hobbie Noble the third will be Thy coat is blue but ye hae been true Since England banished thee tae me "Noo Jock, my man, hear whit I say Ye'll shoe your horses the wrong way roond And it's no like gentry ye will ride But gang like beggars upon the ground "Ye will nae show your Spanish blades But cover them a' wi' beggin' weeds And ye will gang like country loons And ride barebacked upon your steeds" And when they came tae Newcastle toon Hock cried, "The gates we maun ding doon But the porter he stood on the wall sae high And cried, "Ye canna come in the toon" Jock's lowpit doon frae his horse's back And wrung the keeper's neck in twa They've ta'en his life and they've ta'en his keys And cast his body ahint the wa' And when they cam' tae Newcastle jail Unto the prisoner they did ca' "Sleep ye or wake ye, Jock o' the Side We've come tae fetch ye ower the wa'" "Oh what is it there that speaks sae big? To Jock o' the Side who lies in chains I sleep saft and I wake oft And I doubt that I'll ever be free again Fifteen stane o' iron chain And bolted bars they've laid on me Tho' all Liddesdale were here the nicht I fear they niver could set me free" "Oh, hold your tongue noo, Jock o' the Side We need nae mair but just us three Ye'll work within and we'll work without For we hae promised to set ye free" The firsten door that they cam' tae They opened the lock without the key And Hobbie he kicked the next door doon Says, "come awa' Jock, It's time tae leave" The laird's Jock broke the iron bands And Jock o' the Side on his back he's ta'en And he's gane lowpin' doon the stairs Wi' Jock o' the Side and the iron chain Now hobbie, he said tae the laird's own Jock "Some o' the weight ye may lay on me" "Ye need not bother yersel', " says Jock "I count him as licht as a bumblebee" Then oot o' Newcastle they a' did ride Jock o' the Side and his kinsmen three And they're awa' through the broken yetts Rantin' an' singin' sae wantonly "Oh Jock, ye ride sae winsomely Wi' baith yer feet hangin on ae side Your chains they ring like wedding bells Oh Jock, my man, ye're a bonnie bride" And when they cam' tae the riverside The water o' Tyne ran like the sea And the laird's saft Wat, he roared and grat "We'll a' be drooned and I'm feared to dee" "Come fire or flood," says the laird's ain Jock "There's nae man dees before his time" And he's led them into the roaring flood And they hae crossed the water o' Tyne They scarce had won tae the northern side When they heard the cries o' men behind And they mocked and fleered at the English loons Wha darena cross the water o' Tyne The sergeant o' the English troop Says, "Tak' yer man, let him gang free Tak' yer man tae Liddesdale But leave his fetter, I pray, tae me" "C'wa' wi' that," says the laird's ain Jock "Shoon for my gud grey mare, they'll be She carried them o'er the water o' Tyne And I'm sure she's bought them dear fae thee" Then they ha' rid tae Liddesdale Just as fast as they could ride And when they cam' tae Liddesdale They cast the chains frae Jock o' the Side They filled a bowl wi' the gud red wine And after that, they filled anither And aye the toasts hirled roond and roond Just as if they had been brither and brither Child #187 recorded by Ewan MacColl SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!