In a history of Border reiving such side-lights as the ballads afford may be profitably utilized. Maitland, in his celebrated poem on the Thieves of Liddesdale, makes allusion to a well known character who is known to fame as "Jock o' the Syde." He was nephew to the "Laird of Mangerton," and cousin to the "Laird's Ain Jock," and had all the enthusiasm of his race for the calling to which the members of his clan seem to have devoted their somewhat remarkable talents.-- He never tyris For to brek byris Our muir and myris Ouir gude ane guide. It is said that he assisted the Earl of Westmoreland in his escape, after his unfortunate insurrection with the Earl of Northumberland, in the twelfth year of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. But according to the balladist his career, on one occasion, had well nigh terminated disastrously. In the company of some of his friends he had made a raid into Northumberland. Here he was taken prisoner by the warden, and thrown into jail at Newcastle, there to "bide his doom." He knew that he would not have long to wait. Not much time was wasted in considering the various items of the indictment, more especially when the accused was a well-known thief. "Jeddart justice" was not confined to the small burgh on the Scottish Border. It was as popular, at that time, in England as anywhere else, as many a Scottish reiver has known to his cost. The friends of the prisoner were fully aware that if he was to be saved from the gallows, not one moment must be lost. A rescue party was speedily organized. The laird of Mangerton, accompanied by a few friends--the Laird's Jock, the Laird's Wat, and the famous Hobbie Noble (an Englishman who had been banished from Bewcastle)--started off for Newcastle with all speed, determined to bring the prisoner back with them, quick or dead. To allay suspicion and avoid detection, they shod their horses "the wrang way"--putting the tip of the shoe behind the frog--and arrayed themselves like country lads, or "corn caugers[104] ga'en the road." When they reached Cholerford, near Hexham, they alighted and cut a tree--"wi' the help o' the light o' the moon"--on which were fifteen nogs or notches, by which they hoped "to scale the wa' o' Newcastle toun." But, as so often happened in like circumstances, this improvised ladder was "three ells too laigh." Such trifles, however, rarely ever proved disconcerting. The bold reivers at once determined to force the gate. A stout porter endeavoured to drive them back, but-- "His neck in twa the Armstrongs wrang; Wi' fute or hand he ne'er played pa! His life and his keys at once they hae ta'en, And cast his body ahint the wa'."