Johnny Armstrong Ballard version 1

There dwelt a man in faire Westmorland
Jonnie Armstrong men did him call
He had nither lands nor rents coming in
Yet he kept eight score men in his hall

He had horses and harness for them all,
Goodly steeds were all milk white;
O the golden bands an about their necks,
And their weapons, they were all alike.

Newes then was brought unto the king
That there was suche a won as he,
That lived (Lyke a bold out-law,
And robbed all the north country.

The king he writt  a letter then,
A letter which was large and long;
He signed it with his owne hand,
And he promised to doe him no wrong.

When this letter carne Jonne until,
His heart it was as blythe as birds on the tree:
"Never was I sent for before any king,
My father, my grandfather, nor none but me.

"And if wee go the king before,
I would we went most orderly;
Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak,
Laced with silver laces three.

"Every one of you shall have his velvet coat,
Laced with silver lace so white;
O the golden bands an about your necks,
Black hats, white feathers, all alike"'

By the morrow morning at ten of the clock,
Towards Edenburough gone was he,
And with him all his eight score men;
Good lord, it was a goodly sight for to see!

When Jonne came before the king,
He fell down on his knee;
"O pardon, my soveraine leige; he said,
"O pardon my eight score men and me!-

"Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong,
For thy eight score men nor thee;
For to-morrow morning by ten of the clock,
Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow-tree"

But Jonne looked over his left shoulder,
Good Lord, what a grievous look looked hee!
Saying, "Asking grace of a graceless face-
Why there is none for you nor me"

But Jonne had a bright sword by his side,
And it was made of the mettle so free,
That had not the king stept his foot aside,
He had smitten his head from his faire bodde.

Saying, "fight on, my merry men all,
And see that none of you be taine;
For rather then men shall say we were hanged,
Let them report how we were slaine."

Then, God wott, faire Edenburough rose,
And so beset poor Jonne rounde,
That fourscore and ten of Jonne's best men
Lay gasping all upon the ground.

Then like a mad man Jonne laid about,
And like a mad man then fought he,
Until a false Scot came Jonne behind,
And run him through the faire boddee.

Saying, "fight on, my merry men all,
And see that none o you be taine;
For I will stand by and bleed but awhile,
And then will I come and fight againe!"

Newes then was brought to young Jonne Armstrong,
As he stood by his nurse's knee,
Who vowed if ere he lived for to be a man,
O' the treacherous Scots revengd he'd be.

Child #169
From the Penguin Book of Folk Ballads
John Armstrong of Gilnockie, in Eksdale was border reiver. In 1530,
James V of Scotland led a campaign against him.