THE BARON OF BRACKLEY.
First published as follows in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, i. 102. The copy used was derived from Mrs. Brown, and collated with a fragment taken down by Scott from the recitation of two of the descendants of Inverey. Buchan has given a different version in his Gleanings, which is annexed to the present. "This ballad," says Chambers, "records an unfortunate rencontre, which took place on the 16th of September, 1666, between John Gordon of Brackley, commonly called the Baron of Brackley, (in Aberdeenshire,) and Farquharson of Inverey, a noted freebooter, who dwelt on Dee-side. The former gentleman, who is yet remembered by tradition as a person of the most amiable and respectable character, had contrived to offend Farquharson, by pounding some horses belonging to his (Farquharson's) followers, which had either strayed into the Brackley grounds, or become forfeited on account of some petty delinquencies committed by their proprietors. Farquharson was a man of violent habits and passions; he is yet remembered by the epithet Fuddie, descriptive of his hurried, impatient gait; and it is said that, having been in league with the powers of darkness, he was buried on the north side of a hill, where the sun never shone. On account of the miraculous expedition with which he could sweep the cattle away from a fertile district, Deil scoup wi'
Fuddie! is still a popular proverb, implying that the devil could alone keep his own part with him. This singular marauder, it appears, from authentic information, wished at first to argue the point at issue with the Baron of Brackley; but in the course of the altercation some expression from one of the parties occasioned a mutual discharge of fire-arms, by which Brackley and three of his followers fell. An attempt was made by the baron's friends to bring Fuddie to justice; but the case seems to have been justly considered one of chance medley, and the accused party was soon restored to society."—The Scottish Ballads, p. 147.
Down Dee side came Inverey whistling and playing;
He's lighted at Brackley yates at the day dawing.
Says, "Baron o' Brackley, O are ye within?
There's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood spin."
The lady raise up, to the window she went;5
She heard her kye lowing o'er hill and o'er bent.
"O rise up, ye baron, and turn back your kye;
For the lads o' Drumwharran are driving them bye."
"How can I rise, lady, or turn them again!