It may perhaps be thought, that, from the near resemblance which this ballad bears to Kinmont Willie, and Jock o’ the Side, the editor might have dispensed with inserting it in this collection.  But, although the incidents in these three ballads are almost the same, yet there is considerable variety in the language; and each contains minute particulars, highly characteristic of border manners, which it is the object of this publication to illustrate.  Ca’field, or Calfield, is a place in Wauchopdale, belonging of old to the Armstrongs.  In the account betwixt the English and Scottish marches, Jock and Geordie of Ca’field, there called Calfhill, are repeatedly marked as delinquents.—­History of Westmoreland and Cumberland, Vol.  I. Introduction, p. 33. “Mettled John Hall, from the laigh Tiviotdale,” is perhaps John Hall of Newbigging, mentioned in the list of border clans, as one of the chief men of name residing on the middle marches in 1597.  The editor has been enabled to add several stanzas to this ballad, since publication of the first edition.  They were obtained from recitation; and, as they contrast the brutal indifference of the elder brother with the zeal and spirit of his associates, they add considerably to the dramatic effect of the whole.

ARCHIE OF CA’FIELD.

* * * * *

  As I was a walking mine alane,
  It was by the dawning of the day,
  I heard twa brithers make their mane,
  And I listened weel to what they did say.

  The youngest to the eldest said,
  “Blythe and merrie how can we be? 
  There were three brithren of us born,
  And ane of us is condemned to die.”

  “An’ ye wad be merrie, an’ ye wad be sad,
  What the better wad billie Archie be? 
  Unless I had thirty men to mysell,
  And a’ to ride in my cumpanie.

  “Ten to hald the horses’ heads,
  And other ten the watch to be,
  And ten to break up the strong prison,
  Where billy[185] Archie he does lie.”

  Then up and spak him mettled John Hall,
  (The luve of Teviotdale aye was he)
  “An’ I had eleven men to mysell,
  Its aye the twalt man I wad be.”

  Then up bespak him coarse Ca’field,
  (I wot and little gude worth was he)
  “Thirty men is few anew,
  And a’ to ride in our cumpanie.”

  There was horsing, horsing in haste,
  And there was marching on the lee;
  Until they cam to Murraywhate,
  And they lighted there right speedilie.

  “A smith! a smith!” Dickie he cries,
  “A smith, a smith, right speedilie,
  To turn back the caukers of our horses’ shoon! 
  For its unkensome[186] we wad be.”

  “There lives a smith on the water side,
  Will shoe my little black mare for me;
  And I’ve a crown in my pocket,
  And every groat of it I wad gie.”