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
