Lang syn in Scotland, poachin wis a really serious crime. It didna maitter if ye wir starvin, ye jist couldna dae it. The lairds owned athing on their grun an ye could be flung in jile, or even hinged for poachin. Some o them fa did poach wir thocht o as heros by the ordinary fowk, as ye hid tae be affa brave or affa hungry tae dae it. Johnnie o Braidiesley wis affa brave and enjoyed takin a deer noo an again, but he chanced his luck eence ower offin an peyed the price - but he gaed doon fechtin.
Note
The earliest printed version o this ballad wis in Ritson's Scottish Songs, 1794. There's versions fae a ower Scotland, but it was affa popular in Aiberdeenshire. In this version, the action taks place near Monymusk.
Ballad: Johnnie O Braidiesley (Child 114) Singer: Cameron Nixon
Johnnie raise up on a May morning Ca’ed for waater to wash his hands Says, Gae lowse tae me my twa grey dogs That lie boon in iron bands, bands That lie boon in iron bands
Fan Johnnie’s mither heard o this, Her hands for dule she wrang Says, Johnnie, for yer venison Tae the green wids dinna gang, gang Tae the green wids dinna gang
But he has ta’en his guid bent-bow And his arras one by one And he’s awa tae the green wids gane Tae ding the dun deer doon, doon Tae ding the dun deer doon
Johnnie shot and the dun deer lapped And he wounded her on the side And atween the waater and the wids The grey dogs laid her pride, pride The grey dogs laid her pride
They ate sae much o the venison And they drank sae much o the bleed That Johnnie and his twa grey dogs Fell asleep gin they were deid, deid Fell asleep gin they were deid
Noo by there cam a silly auld man And an ill death may he dee For he’s awa tae Esslemont The seven foresters for tae see, see The seven foresters for tae see
As I cam’ in by Monymusk And doon amang yon scrogs The bonniest youth that ere I saw Wis sleepin atween twa dogs, dogs Wis sleepin atween twa dogs
The buttons that were on his sleeves Were o the gowd sae guid And the twa dogs that he lay atween Their mooes were dyed wi bleed, bleed Their mooes were dyed wi bleed
Then oot and spak the first forester He wis headsman ower them aa Gin this be Jock o Braidiesley Then unto him we’ll draw, draw Then unto him we’ll draw
The first shot that the foresters fired It wounded him on the knee The neest shot that the foresters fired His heirt’s bleed blin’t his ee, ee His heirt’s bleed blin’t his ee
Then Johnnie raised fae oot o his sleep And an angry man was he Says, ye micht hae waukened me fae my sleep For my heart’s bleed blins my ee, ee My heart’s bleed blins my ee
He’s leant his back against an aik His fit against a stane And he has fired at the seven them And he’s killed them aa but ane, ane He’s killed them aa but ane
He’s browken fower o this man’s ribs His airm and his collar bane And he’s pit him back upon his horse Tae cairry the tidins hame, hame Tae cairry the tidins hame
Now Johnnie’s guid bent-bow is broke And his twa grey dogs are slain And his body lies in Monymusk And his huntin days are deen, deen His huntin days are deen
The tune abeen wis collected fae Mr Alex Mackay in Alford, by James Bruce Duncan aroon 1905. There are a few ither tunes in the Greig-Duncan collection, but they’re fairly similar tae this een.
Jimmy Broon’s tune is a bittie diffrint tae the printid ane, an he disna repeat the last line.
