The first, _Simmy o’ Whythaugh_, is based on facts in the Border despatches. Historically the attempt to escape from York Castle failed; after the prisoners had got out they were recaptured. The second ballad, _The Young Ruthven_, gives the traditional view of the slaying of the Ruthvens in their own house in Perth, on 5th August 1600. The third, _The Dead Man’s Dance_, combines the horror of the ballads of _Lizzy Wan_ and _The Bonny Hind_, with that of the Romaic ballad, in English, _The Suffolk Miracle_ (Child, No. 272). I—SIMMY O’ WHYTHAUGH O, will ye hear o’ the Bishop o’ York, O, will ye hear o’ the Armstrongs true, How they hae broken the Bishop’s castle, And carried himsel’ to the bauld Buccleuch? They were but four o’ the Lariston kin, They were but four o’ the Armstrong name, Wi’ stout Sim Armstrong to lead the band, The Laird o’ Whythaugh, I mean the same. They had done nae man an injury, They had na robbed, they had na slain, In pledge were they laid for the Border peace, In the Bishop’s castle to dree their pain. The Bishop he was a crafty carle, He has ta’en their red and their white monie, But the muddy water was a’ their drink, And dry was the bread their meat maun be. “Wi’ a ged o’ airn,” did Simmy say, “And ilka man wi’ a horse to ride, We aucht wad break the Bishop’s castle, And carry himsel’ to the Liddel side. “The banks o’ Whythaugh I sall na see, I never sall look upon wife and bairn; I wad pawn my saul for my gude mear, Jean, I wad pawn my saul for a ged o’ airn.” There was ane that brocht them their water and bread; His gude sire, he was a kindly Scot, Says “Your errand I’ll rin to the Laird o’ Cessford, If ye’ll swear to pay me the rescue shot.” Then Simmy has gi’en him his seal and ring, To the Laird o’ Cessford has ridden he— I trow when Sir Robert had heard his word The tear it stood in Sir Robert’s e’e. “And sall they starve him, Simmy o’ Whythaugh, And sall his bed be the rotten strae? I trow I’ll spare neither life nor gear, Or ever I live to see that day! “Gar bring up my horses,” Sir Robert he said, “I bid ye bring them by three and three, And ane by ane at St. George’s close, At York gate gather your companie.” Oh, some rade like corn-cadger men, And some like merchants o’ linen and hose; They slept by day and they rade by nicht, Till they a’ convened at St. George’s close. Ilka mounted man led a bridded mear, I trow they had won on the English way; Ilka belted man had a brace o’ swords, To help their friends to fend the fray. Then Simmy he heard a hoolet cry In the chamber strang wi’ never a licht; “That’s a hoolet, I ken,” did Simmy say, “And I trow that Teviotdale’s here the nicht!”