Clan feuds wir aywis on the go, and this is aboot a lang-standin ane awteen the Farquarsons an the Gordon's o Brackley. In this case, fa iver screeved the ballad has stuck twa different clashes thegither - ane in 1592 an the ither in 1666. They hid lang memories for huddin a grudge.
The ballad maks oot that it wisna a fair fecht, an maybe there wis a bit o plottin ahin the scenes wi Brackley's wife an Farquarson, but naebudy really kens.
Note
This is anither ballad that cam fae Mrs Brown O Falkland, fa recited it for the collectir Robert Jamieson, an he printed it in 1806. The battle, or murder, dependin fa's tellin the story, taen place in fit is noo the Glen Tanner estate.
Ballad: The Baron O Brackley (Child 203) Singer: Cameron Nixon
Inverey cam doon Deeside, he whistlin an playin And he’s lichted at Brackley’s jist as the day dawned He’s rappit fu loudly, and wi a great roar Shouted “come doon here Brackley and open yer door”
Are ye sleepin Brackley, or are ye waaken For the shairp swords are at ye, and will gar yer bleed rin Come doon here ye coward, if ye hae a will And upon yer green loanin, yer bleed it will spill
If ye be hired widifus, ride ye on by Ging doon tae the lowlands and steal their fat kye But if ye be gentlemen, licht and come in Gin ye drink o my wine ye’ll nae gar my bleed rin
But it’s up spake his lady, at his back faar she’s laid Gae doon there my husband and prove nae a coward O hud yer tongue Peggy, dinna maak sic a din For ye see they’re near forty, and we’re but fower men
But she’s cried on her maidens tae come tae her hand Taak up yer rocks lassies, we will them command Gin I hid a husband, but ye see I hae nane He widna lie in bed and watch his kye taen
Hud yer tongue Peggy, and gie me my gun And I will ging oot, though I’ll niver come in Faan Brackley was buskit an stood in the close Nae bonnier callant e’er mounted a horse
At the heid o the Etnach the battle began And at little Aucholzie they’ve killed the first man Well it’s first they killed ae man, and syne they’ve killed twa And they’ve killed gallant Brackley the flooer o them aa
Cam ye by Brackley’s, and wis ye in there An saw ye his Peggy a-rivin her hair It’s I cam by Brackley’s, an I gaed in there An I saw his fine lady, she was wis braidin her hair
She wis rantin, she wis dancing, she wis singin for joy And swore on that nicht she would feast Inverey She drank wi him, lauched wi him, welcomed him ben And she’s lain wi the villain faa slew her guid man
Well fie on ye lady, fu could ye dae sae Tae open yer gates tae the fause Inverey There’s dool in the kitchen, but mirth in the haa For the Baron o Brackley that’s deid and awa
