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Full text of "The English and Scottish popular ballads"

University of California • Berkeley 

From the book collection of 
BERTRAND H. BRONSON 

bequeathed by him 
or donated by his wife 

Mildred S. Bronson 



THE ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH 
POPULAR BALLADS 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2007 with funding from 

IVIicrosoft Corporation 



http://www.archive.Drg/details/englishscottishp41chilrich 



THE 

ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH 

POPULAR BALLADS 

EDITED BY 

FRANCIS JAMES CHILD 




IN FIVE VOLUMES 

VOLUME IV 

PAET I 



BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

tn^t)f Mttt&int pma, CambriDge 

LONDON : HENRY STEVENS, SON AND STILES 



No :d^^ 



COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY F. J. CHnJ) 
AliL BIGHTS RESERVED 



ADVERTISEMENT TO PART VII 

NUMBERS 189-225 



I WOULD acknowledge with particular gratitude the liberality of the Hon. Mes Max- 
well-Scott in allowing the examination and use of the rich store of ballads accumulated 
at Abbotsford by her immortal ancestor ; and also that of LoBD Rosebeey in sending to 
Edinburgh for inspection the collection of rare Scottish broadsides formed by the late 
David Laing, and permitting me to print several articles. 

The Rev. S. Baring-Gould has done me the great favor of furnishing me with copies 
of traditional ballads and songs taken down by him in the West of England. 

I am much indebted to the Rev. W. Forbes-Leith for his good offices, and to Mr Mao- 
MATH, as I have been all along, for help of every description. 

F. J. C. 

OCTOBEK, 1890. 



ADVERTISEMENT TO PART VIII 

NUMBERS 226-265 



A CONSIDERABLE portion of this eighth number is devoted to texts from Abbotsford. 
Many of these were used by Sir Walter Scott in the compilation of the Minstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border ; many, again, not less important than the others, did not find a place in that 
collection. They are now printed either absolutely for the first time, or for the first time 
without variation from the form in which they were written. All of them, and others which 
were obtained in season for the Seventh Part, were transcribed with the most conscientious 
and vigilant care by Mr Macmath, who has also identified the handwriting, has searched the 
numerous volumes of letters addressed to Sir Walter Scott for information relating to the 
contributors and for dates, and has examined the humbler editions of printed ballads in the 
Abbotsford library ; this without remitting other help. 

Very cordial thanks are offered, for texts or information, or for both, to the Rev. S. Bar- 
ing-Gould, the Rev. W. Forbes-Leith, Mr Andrew Lang, Dr George Birkbeck Hill, 
Mr P. Z. Round, Dr F. J. Furnivall, Mr James Barclay Murdoch, Dr Giuseppe 
Pitre, of Palermo, Mr William Walker, of Aberdeen, Mr David MacRitchie, of Edin- 
burgh, Mr James Gibb, of Joppa, Mr James Raine, of York, Rev. William Leslie 
Christie, of London, Mrs Mary Thomson, of Fochabers, and Mr George M. Richardson, 
late of Harvard College ; for notes on Slavic popular literature, to Mr John Karlowicz, 
of Warsaw, and Professor Wilhelm Wollner; and for miscellaneous notes, to my col- 
league. Professor G. L. KiTTREDGB. 

So far as can be foreseen, one part more will bring this book to a close ; it is therefore 
timely to say again that I shall be glad of any kind of assistance that will make it less 
imperfect, whether in the way of supplying omissions or of correcting errors, great or small. 

F. J. C. 

February, 1892. 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV 



BALLAD PAAS 

189. HoBiE Noble 1 

190. Jamie Telfer of the Fair Dodhead 4 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 518 ; V, 249, 300.) 

191. HuGHiE Grame 8 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 518 ; V, 300.) 

192. The Lochmaben Harper 16 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 300.) 

193. The Death of Parcy Reed 24 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 520.) 

194. The Laird of Wariston 28 

195. Lord Maxwell's Last Goodnight 34 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 251.) 

196. The Fire of Frendraught 39 

(Additions and Corrections: IV, 521 ; V, 251, 301.) 

197. James Grant 49 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 251.) 

198. Bonny John Seton 51 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 251.) 

199. The Bonnie House o Airlie . 54 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 252.) 

200. The Gypsy Laddie 61 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522 ; V, 252, 301.) 

201. Bessy Bell and Mary Gray 75 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522 ; V, 253.) 

202. The Battle of Philiphaugh 77 

203. The Baron of Bracklby 79 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522 ; V, 253.) 

204. Jamie Douglas 90 

205. Loudon Hill, or, Drumclog 105 

206. Bothwell Bridge 108 

207. Lord Delamere 110 

208. Lord Derwentwater 116 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522 ; V, 254.) 

209. Geordie 123 

210. Bonnie James Campbell 142 

211. Bewick and Graham 144 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522.) 

212. The Duke of Athole's Nurse 150 

213. Sir James the Rose 156 



viii CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV 

214. The Braes o Yarrow 160 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 522 ; V, 255.) 

215. Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow, or, The "Water o Gamrib . . . . 178 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 256.) 

216. The Mother's Malison, or, Cltde's Water 186 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 256, 301.) 

217. The Broom of Cowdenknows 191 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 523 ; V, 257.) 

218. The False Lover won back 209 

219. The Gardener 212 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 258.) 

220. The Bonny Lass of Anglesey 214 

221. Katharine Jaffray 216 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 523 ; V, 260.) 

222. Bonny Baby Livingston 231 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 523 ; V, 261.) 

223. Eppie Morrie 239 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 262.) 

224. The Lady of Arngosk 241 

225. Rob Roy 243 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 523 ; V, 262.) 

226. LiziE Lindsay 255 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 524 ; V, 264.) 

227. Bonny Lizie Baillie 266 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 265.) 

228. Glasgow Peggie 270 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 266.) 

229. Earl Crawford 276 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 301.) 

230. The Slaughter of the Laird of Mellerstain 281 

231. The Earl of Errol 282 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 267.) 

232. Richie Story 291 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 270.) 

233. Andrew Lammie 300 

234. Charlie MacPherson 308 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 301.) 

235. The Earl of Aboyne 311 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 270, 301.) 

236. The Laird o Drum 322 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 272.) 

237. The Duke of Gordon's Daughter 332 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 273.) 

238. Glenlogie, or, Jean o Bethelnib 338 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 273, 302.) 

239. Lord Saltoun and Auchanachib 347 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 273.) 

240. The Rantin Laddie 351 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 274.) 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV ix 

241. The Baron o Leys 355 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 275.) 

242. The Coble o Cargill 358 

243. James Harris (The Daemon Lover) 360 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 524.) 

244. James Hatley 370 

245. Young Allan 375 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 275.) 

246. Redesdale and Wise William 383 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 276.) 

247. Lady Elspat 387 

248. The Grey Cock, or, Saw you my Father ? 389 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 302.) 

249. AuLD Matrons 391 

250. Henry Martyn 393 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 302.) 

251. Lang Johnny More 396 

(Additions and Corrections : IV, 524.) 

252. The Kitchie-Boy .400 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 277.) 

253. Thomas o Yonderdale 409 

254. Lord William, or, Lord Lundy 411 

255. Willie's Fatal Visit 415 

256. Alison and Willie 416 

257. BuRD Isabel and Earl Patrick 417 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 278.) 

258. Broughty Wa's 423 

259. Lord Thomas Stuart 425 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 279.) 

260. Lord Thomas and Lady Margaret 426 

261. Lady Isabel 429 

262. Lord Livingston 431 

263. The New-Slain Knight 434 

(Additions and Corrections : V, 279.) 

264. The White Fisher 435 

265. The Knight's Ghost 437 

Additions and Corrections 439 



189 
HOBIE NOBLE 

a. Caw's Poetical Museum, p. 193. b. ' Hobie Noble,' Percy Papers. 



Scott's Minstrelsy, I, 164, 1802, II, 90, 
1833. The source is not mentioned, but was 
undoubtedly Caw's Museum, though there 
are variations of text, attributable to the ed- 
itor. A copy in the Campbell MSS, I, 230, 
is again from the Museum, with several cor- 
rections, two of which are also found in Scott. 
Caw received the ballad, says Sir Walter, from 
John Elliot of Reidheugh. b seems to have 
been sent Percy (with 'Dick o the Cow') by 
/ Roger Halt, in 1775. 

Hobie Noble, though banished from Bew- 
castle for his irregularities, will always com- 
mand the hearty liking of those who live too 
late to suffer from them, on account of his 
gallant bearing in the rescue of Jock o the 
Side. See especially No 187, A, of which 
Hobie is the hero. All that we know of him 
is so much as we are told in that ballad and 
in this. He attached himself, after his ex- 
pulsion from England, to the laird of Man- 
gerton, who gives him the praise ' Thy coat 
is blue, thou has been true.' 

Sim o the Mains, an Armstrong of the 
Whithaugh branch (the most important after 
that of Mangerton), undertakes to betray 
Hobie to the English land-sergeant. A tryst 
is set at Kershope-foot, the junction of that 
stream with the Liddel ; and Hobie, who 
lives a little way up the Liddel, rides eagerly 
down the water to keep it. He meets five 
men, who ask him to join them in a raid into 
England. Hobie dares not go by day ; the 

* The brother is Peter o Whitfield. ' Jock o the Side/ A, 
begins, ' Peeter a Whifeild he hath slaine, and John a Side 
he is tane.' 'The great Earl of Whitfield,' 10^ seemed to 
Scott a corruption, and he suggested ' the great Ralph ' 
Whitfield ; but Surtees gave him information (which has 

VOL. IV. 1 



land-sergeant is at feud with him on account 
of a brother's death, in which Hobie must 
have had a hand, and ' the great earl of Whit- 
field' has suffered from his depredations;* but 
he will be their guide if they will wait till 
night. He takes them to the Foulbogshiel, 
where they alight, and word is sent by Sim 
to the land-sergeant at Askerton, his adver- 
sary's residence ; the land-sergeant orders the 
men of the neighborhood to meet him at day- 
break. Hobie has a bad dream, wakes his 
comrades in alarm, and sets out to guide them 
across the Waste; but the sergeant's force 
come before him, and Sim behind; his sword 
breaks ; he is bound with his own bow-string 
and taken to Carlisle. As he goes up the 
quarter called the Rickergate, the wives say 
one to the other, That's the man that loosed 
Jock o the Side ! They offer him bread and 
beer, and urge him to confess stealing " my 
lord's " horses ; he swears a great oath that he 
never had beast of my lord's. He is to die 
the next day, and says his farewell to Man- 
gerton ; he would rather be called ' Hobie 
Noble ' and be hanged in Carlisle, than be 
called ' Traitor Mains ' and eat and drink. 

Mr R. B. Armstrong informs me that he 
has found no notice of Hobie Noble except 
that Hobbe Noble, with eight others, "lived 
within the Nyxons, near to Bewcastle." 

1569. " Lancy Armistrang of Quhithauch 
obliged him ... for Sym Armistrang of the 
Mains and the rest of the Armistrangis of 

not transpired) that led him to think that the reading ' Earl' 
might be right. Whitfield, in Northumberland, is a few 
miles southwest of Hexham, and about twenty-five, in a 
straight line, from Kershope, or the border. 



189. HOBIB NOBLE 



his gang. Syme of tlie Mains was lodged in 
Wester Wemys." (Register of the Privy 
Council of Scotland.} 

4. The Mains was a place a very little to 
the east of Castleton, on the opposite, or north, 
side of the Liddel. 13-17. Askerton is in 
the Waste of Bewcastle, "about seventeen 
miles " northeast of Carlisle. " Willeva and 
Spear-Edom [otherwise Spade-Adam] are 
small districts in Bewcastle dale, through 
which also the Hartlie-burn takes its course. 
Consoowthart-Green and Rodric-haugh and 
the Foulbogshiel are the names of places in 



the same wilds, through which the Scottish 
plunderers generally made their raids upon 
England." (Scott.) 

Sim o the Mains fled into England from 
the resentment of his chief, but was himself 
executed at Carlisle about two months after 
Hobie's death. " Such is at least the tradi- 
tion of Liddesdale," says Scott. This is of 
course, notwithstanding the precision of the 
interval of two months, what Lord Bacon 
calls " an imagination as one would " ; an ap- 
pendage of a later generation, in the interest 
of poetical justice. 



1 Foul fa the breast first treason bred in ! 

That Liddisdale may safely say, 
For in it there was baith meat and drink, 
And corn unto our geldings gay. 
Fala la diddle, etc. 

2 We were stout-hearted men and true, 

As England it did often say ; 
But now we may turn our backs and fly, 
Since brave Noble is seld away. 

3 Now Hobie he was an English man, 

And born into Bewcastle dale, 
But his misdeeds they were sae great, 
They banishd him to Liddisdale. 

4 At Kershope-foot the tryst was set, 

Kershope of the lily lee ; 
And there was traitour Sim o the Mains, 
With him a private companie. 

5 Then Hobie has graithd his body weel, 

I wat it was wi baith good iron and steel ; 
And he has puUd out his fringed grey, 

And there, brave Noble, he rade him weel. 

6 Then Hobie is down the water gane, 

Een as fast as he may drie ; 
Tho they shoud a' brusten and broken their 
hearts, 
Frae that tryst Noble he would not be. 

7 ' Weel may ye be, my f eiries five ! 

And aye, what is your wUls wi me ? ' 
Then they cryd a' wi ae consent, 

Thou 'rt welcome here, brave Noble, to me. 



8 Wilt thou with us in England ride ? 

And thy safe-warrand we will be, 
If we get a horse worth a hundred punds, 
Upon his back that thou shalt be. 

9 ' I dare not with you into England ride, 

The land-sergeant has me at feid ; 
I know not what evil may betide 

For Peter of Whitfield his brother's 
dead. 

10 * And Anton Shiel, he loves not me, 

For I gat twa drifts of his sheep ; 
The great Earl of Whitfield loves me not, 
For nae gear frae me he eer coud 
keep. 

11 * But will ye stay till the day gae down, 

Until the night come oer the grand, 
And I '11 be a guide worth ony twa 
That may in Liddisdale be fund. 

12 ' Tho dark the night as pick and tar, 

I '11 guide ye oer yon hills fu hie, 
And bring ye a' in safety back, 
If you '11 be true and follow me.' 

13 He 's guided them oer moss and muir, 

Oer hill and houp, and mony ae down. 
Til they came to the Foulbogshiel, 

And there brave Noble he Hghted down. 

14 Then word is gane to the land-sergeant. 

In Askirton where that he lay : 
* The deer that ye hae hunted lang 
Is seen into the Waste this day.' 



189. HOBIE NOBLE 



15 ' Then Hobie Noble is that deer ; 

I wat he carries the style fu hie ! 
Aft has he beat your slough-hounds back, 
And set yourselves at little ee. 

16 ' Gar warn the bows of Hartlie-bum, 

See they shaft their arrows on the wa ! 
Warn Willeva and Spear Edom, 
And see the morn they meet me a'. 

17 * Gar meet me on the Rodrie-haugh, 

And see it be by break o day ; 
And we wiU on to Conscowthart Green, 
For there, I think, w 'U get our prey.* 

18 Then Hobie Noble has dreamd a dream. 

In the Foulbogshiel where that he lay ; 
He thought his horse was neath him shot. 
And he himself got hard away. 

19 The cocks could crow, and the day could dawn. 

And I wat so even down fell the rain ; 
If Hobie had no wakend at that time, 
In the Foulbogshiel he had been tane or 
slain. 

20 * Get up, get up, my f eiries five — 

For I wat here makes a f u ill day — 
And the warst clock of this companie 
I hope shall cross the Waste this day.' 

21 Now Hobie thought the gates were clear. 

But, ever alas ! it was not sae ; 
They were beset wi cruel men and keen. 
That away brave Noble could not gae. 

22 ' Yet follow me, my feiries five, 

And see of me ye keep good ray, 
And the worst clock of this companie 
I hope shall cross the Waste this day.' 

23 There was heaps of men now Hobie before. 

And other heaps was him behind, 
That had he been as wight as Wallace was 
Away brave Noble he could not win. 

24 Then Hobie he had but a laddies sword, 

But he did more than a laddies deed ; 
In the midst of Conscouthart Green, 
He brake it oer Jers a Wigham's head. 

25 Now they have tane brave Hobie Noble, 

Wi his ain bowstring they band him sae ; 



And I wat his heart was neer sae salr 

As when his ain five band him on the brae. 

26 They have tane him [on] for West Carlisle ; 

They askd him if he knew the way ; 
Whateer he thought, yet little he said ; 
He knew the way as well as they. 

27 They hae tane him up the Ricker-gate ; 

The wives they cast their windows wide, 
And ilka wife to anither can say. 

That 's the man loosd Jock o the Side ! 

28 ' Fy on ye, women ! why ca ye me man ? 

For it 's nae man that I 'm usd like ; 
I 'm but like a forf oughen hound. 
Has been fighting in a dirty syke.' 

29 Then they hae tane him up thro Carlisle 

town. 
And set him by the chimney-fire ; 
They gave brave Noble a wheat loaf to eat. 
And that was httle his desire. 

30 Then they gave him a wheat loaf to eat 

And after that a can o beer ; 
Then they cried a', wi ae consent. 

Eat, brave Noble, and make good cheer ! 

31 Confess my lord's horse, Hobie, they say, 

And the morn in Carlisle thou 's no die ; 
* How shall I confess them ? ' Hobie says, 
' For I never saw them with mine eye.' 

32 Then Hobie has sworn a fu great aith. 

By the day that he was gotten or born, 
He never had onything o my lord's 
That either eat him grass or corn. 

33 ' Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton ! 

For I think again I '11 neer thee see ; 
I wad betray nae lad alive. 
For a' the goud in Christentie. 

34 ' And fare thee well now, Liddisdale, 

Baith the hie land and the law ! 
Keep ye weel frae traitor Mains ! 
For goud and gear he '11 sell ye a'. 

35 * I 'd rather be ca'd Hobie Noble, 

In Carlisle, where he suffers for his faut, 
Before I were ca'd traitor Mains, 

That eats and drinks of meal and maut.' 



190. JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD 



a. 9*. brother is dead : cf. b. (Dead is death.) 
10*^. For twa drifts of his sheep I gat : cor- 
rected in Scott and in the Campbell MS. 

15*. lee, b lye : corrected to fee in Campbell 

MS. (ee = awe.) 
16^^. shaft is corrected to sharp in Scott and 

the Campbell MS. 
24*. Jersawigham's : cf. b. 

b. There is a burden after the first, second, and 

fourth line, variously given; as, Fa (La, 
Ta) la didle, Ta la la didle, etc., after the 
first and secorid ; Fala didle, lal didle, Tal 
didle, tal diddle, after the fourth. 
21-2 wanting. 2"'*. l*-" in the MS. 
2«. flee. 2*. he is. ^\ Then /or Now. 
5". both with. 5^ out a. 
6*. If they should all have bursen. 
6*. From. 7*. here wanting. 8^ Will. 
8^ we shaU. 8«. pound. 8*. shall. 
9^. in. 9*. brother 's dead {death). 
lO'^. For twa drifts of his sheep I gott. 
10^ not me. 10*. me that he can keep. 



12}'^ written as 11* : The pick and tar was 
never so dark but I 'le gfuide you over yon 
hiUies high. 
12^'* wanting. 15^. he was that. 15'. slooth. 
15*. little lye. 16^. shaft. 168. Q^r warn. 
17^. me the morn. 

see that it be by the. 

Corscowthart. 17*. ow? 18'. beneath. 

era : da. 19'. not. 19*. either tane. 

But H. : gates they had been. 21*. set. 

Noble he. 
23^. lumps /or heaps (heaps in 23*^). 
24'. Corscothart. 24*. Jers a wighams. 

They have tane now H. N. 

bow-strings. 

his heart was never so wae. 

on for. 27^. cuist. 27'. Then every. 

John of. 28'. for fouchald. 
29'. brave wanting : for to. 30^ wanting. 
32'. had nothing. 33^ now for sweet. 
33*. Crisenty. 34'. And keep. 
35^. cald now. 
35*. That eat and drank him a of. 



17=^. 
17'. 
19^ 

21^ 
21*. 



25^. 
252. 
25«. 
26\ 

27*. 



190 

JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, I, 80, 1802; II, 3, 1833, 



Scott, by whom this ballad was first pub- 
lished, and to whom alone it seems to be 
known, gives us no information how he came 
by it. He says, " There is another ballad, 
under the same title as the following, in 
which nearly the same incidents are narrated, 
with little difference except that the honor 
of rescuing the cattle is attributed to the 
Liddesdale Elliots, headed by a chief, there 
called Martin Elliot of the Preakin Tower, 
whose son, Simon, is said to have fallen in 
the action. It is very possible that both the 
Teviotdale Scotts and the Elliots were en- 
gaged in the affair, and that each claimed 
the honor of the victory." Ed. 1833, II. 8. 



Scott has suggested that an article in the 
list of attempts upon England, fouled by the 
commissioners at Berwick in the year 1587, 
may relate to the subject of the ballad. 

October, 1582.* 

Thomas Musgrave, de- ( Walter Scott, Laird ) 200 kine and 
putT of Bewcastle, < of Buckluth, and his > oxen, 300 gait 
and the tenants, against ( complices ; for ) and sheep. 

Bewcastle, of which Thomas Musgrave at 
the above date was deputy and captain, was, 
says Percy, a great rendezvous of thieves and 
moss-troopers down to the last century. " It 

* Nicolson and Bum, History of Westmorland and Cum- 
berland, p. xxxi. 



190. JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD 



is handed down by report," he remarks, "that 
there was formerly an Order of Council that 
no inhabitant of Bewcastle should be returned 
on a jury." That the deputy of the warden, 
an officer of the peace, should be exhibited as 
making a raid, not in the way of retaliation, 
but simply for plunder, is too much out of 
rule even for Bewcastle, and does not speak 
favorably for the antiquity of the ballad. 

Taking the story as it stands, the Captain 
of Bewcastle, who is looking for a prey, is 
taken by a guide to the Fair Dodhead, which 
he pillages of kye and everything valuable. 
Jamie Telfer, whose threat of revenge the 
Captain treats with derision, runs ten miles 
afoot to the Elliots of Stobs Hall, to whom 
he says he has paid mail, st. 11, and asks 
help. Gib Elliot denies the mail, and tells 
him to go to the Scotts at Branksome where 
he has paid it. Telfer keeps on to Coultart 
Cleugh, and there makes his case known to 
a brother-in-law, who gives him a mount 
" to take the fray " to Catslockhill. There 
William's Wat, who had often eaten of the 
Dodhead basket, gives him his company and 
that of two sons, and they take the fray to 
Branksome. Buccleuch collects a body of 
men of his name, and sends them out under 
the command of Willie Scott, who overtakes 
the marauders, and asks the Captain if he 
will let Telfer's kye go back. This he will 
not do for love or for fear. The Scotts set 
on them ; Willie is killed, but two and thirty 
of the raiders' saddles are emptied, and the 
Captain is badly wounded and made prisoner. 
Nor is that all, for the Scotts ride to the Cap- 
tain's house and loose his cattle, and when 
they come to the Fair Dodhead, for ten milk 
kye Jamie Telfer has three and thirty. 

Walter Scott of Harden and Walter Scott 
of Goldielands, and, according to Scott of 



Satchells, Scott of Commonside, st. 26, were 
engaged with Buccleuch in the rescue of Kin- 
mont Willie. So was Will Elliot of Gorrom- 
bye, St. 27*. 

The ballad was retouched for the Border 
Minstrelsy, nobody can say how much. The 
36th stanza is in Hardyknute style. St. 12 
is not only found elsewhere (cf. 'Young 
Beichan,' E 6), but could not be more inap- 
propriately brought in than here ; Scott, how- 
ever, is not responsible for that. 

Scott makes the following notes on the lo- 
calities : 

2. Hardhaughswire is the pass from Lid- 
desdale to the head of Teviotdale. Borth- 
wick water is a stream which falls into the 
Teviot three miles above Hawick. 3. The 
Dodhead was in Selkirkshire, near Singlee, 
where there are still the vestiges of an old 
tower. 7. Stobs Hall : upon Slitterick. 10. 
Branksome Ha, the ancient family-seat of the 
lairds of Buccleuch, near Hawick. 13. The 
Coultart Cleugh is nearly opposite to Carlinrig, 
on the road between Hawick and Mosspaul. 
26. The estates mentioned in this verse be- 
longed to families of the name of Scott re- 
siding upon the waters of Borthwick and 
Teviot, near the castle of their chief. 27. 
The pursuers seem to have taken the road 
through the hills of Liddesdale in order to 
collect forces and intercept the forayers at 
the passage of the Liddel on their return to 
Bewcastle. 29. The Frostylee is a brook 
which joins the Teviot near Mosspaul. 33, 
38. The Ritterford and Kershopeford are 
noted fords on the river Liddel. 36. The 
Dinlay is a mountain in Liddesdale. 44. 
Stanegirthside : a house belonging to the For- 
esters, situated on the English side of the 
Liddel. 



1 It fell about the Martinmas tyde, 

Whan our Border steeds get corn and hay, 
The Captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to 
ryde, 
And he 's ower to Tividale to drive a prey. 



2 The first ae guide that they met wi, 
It was high up in Hardhaughswire ; 
The second guide that they met wi, 
It was laigh down in Borthwick water. 



190. JAMIE TELFER OP THE FAIR DODHEAD 



3 ' What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide ? 

' Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee ; 
But gin ye '11 gae to the Fair Dodhead, 
Mony a cow's cauf I '11 let thee see.' 

4 And when they cam to the Fair Dodhead, 

Right hastily they clam the peel ; 
They loosed the kye out, ane and a', 
And ranshakled the house right weel. 

6 Now Jamie Telfer's heart was sair, 
The tear aye rowing in his ee ; 
He pled wi the Captain to hae his gear, 
Or else revenged he wad be. 

6 The Captain turned him round and leugh ; 

Said, Man, there 's naething in thy house 
But ae auld sword without a sheath. 
That hardly now wad fell a mouse. 

7 The sun was na up, but the moon was down, 

It was the gryming of a new-fa'n snaw ; 
Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot. 

Between the Dodhead and the Stobs's Ha. 

8 And when he cam to the fair tower-yate, 

He shouted loud, and cried weel hie. 
Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot, 

' Whae 's this that brings the fray to me ? ' 

9 ' It 's I, Jamie Telfer o the Fair Dodhead, 

And a harried man I think I be ; 
There 's naething left at the Fair Dodhead 
But a waefu wife and bairnies three.' 

10 ' Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha, 

For succour ye 'se get nane f rae me ; 
Gae seek your succour where ye paid black' 
mail. 
For, man, ye neer paid money to me.' 

11 Jamie has turned him round about, 

I wat the tear blinded his ee : 
' I '11 neer pay mail to Elliot again. 
And the Fair Dodhead I '11 never see. 

12 ' My hounds may a' rin masterless, 

My hawks may fly frae tree to tree, 
My lord may grip my vassal-lands, 
For there again maun I never be ! * 

13 He has turned him to the Tiviot-side, 

Een as fast as he could drie. 



Till he cam to the Coultart Cleugh, 

And there he shouted baith loud and hie. 

14 Then up bespak him auld Jock Grieve : 

* Whae 's this that brings the fray to me ? * 
* It 's I, Jamie Telfer o the Fair Dodhead, 
A harried man I trew I be. 

15 * There 's naething left in the Fair Dodhead 

But a greeting wife and bairnies three. 
And sax poor ca's stand in the sta, 
A' routing loud for their minnie.* 

16 ' Alack a wae ! ' quo auld Jock Grieve, 

' Alack, my heart is sair for thee ! 
For I was married on the elder sister. 
And you on the youngest of a' the three.' 

17 Then he has taen out a bonny black, 

Was right weel fed wi corn and hay. 
And he 's set Jamie Telfer on his back, 
To the Catslockhill to tak the fray. 

18 And whan he cam to the Catslockhill, 

He shouted loud and cried weel hie, 
Till out and spak him William's Wat, 
' O whae 's this brings the fray to me ? ' 

19 ' It 's I, Jamie Telfer o the Fair Dodhead, 

A harried man I think I be ; 
The Captain o Bewcastle has driven my 
gear; 
For God's sake, rise and succour me ! ' 

20 * Alas for wae ! ' quo William's Wat, 

* Alack, for thee my heart is sair ! 
I never cam bye the Fair Dodhead 
That ever I fand thy basket bare.' 

21 He 's set his twa sons on coal-black steeds, 

Himsel upon a freckled gray, 
And they are on wi Jamie Telfer, 
To Branksome Ha to tak the fray. 

22 And when they cam to Branksome Ha, 

They shouted a' baith loud and hie. 
Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch, 

Said, Whae 's this brings the fray to me ? 

23 ' It 's I, Jamie Telfer o the Fair Dodhead, 

And a harried man I think I be ; 
There 's nought left in the Fair Dodhead 
But a greeting wife and bairnies three.' 



190. JAMIE TELFER OP THE FAIR DODHEAD 



24 ' Alack for wae ! ' quo the gude auld lord, 

' And ever my heart is wae for thee ! 
But fye, gar cry on Willie, my son. 
And see that he cum to me speedilie. 

25 ' Gar warn the water, hraid and wide ! 

Gar warn it sune and hastilie ! 
They that winna ride for Telfer's kye, 
Let them never look in the face o me ! 

26 ' "Warn Wat o Harden and his sons, 

Wi them will Borthwick water ride ; 
Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh, 
And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside. 

27 ' Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire, 

And warn the Currors o the Lee ; 
As ye cum down the Hermitage Slack, 
Warn doughty Willie o Gorrinberry.' 

28 The Scotts they rade, the Scotts they ran, 

Sae starkly and sae steadilie. 
And aye the ower-word o the thrang 
Was, Rise for Branksome readilie ! 

29 The gear was driven the Frostylee up, 

Frae the Frostylee unto the plain, 
Whan Willie has lookd his men before. 
And saw the kye right fast driving. 

30 * Whae drives thir kye,' can Willie say, 

' To make an outspeckle o me ? ' 
* It 's I, the Captain o Bewcastle, Willie ; 
I winna layne my name for thee.' 

31 * O will ye let Telfer's kye gae back ? 

Or will ye do aught for regard o me ? 
Or, by the faith of my body,' quo Willie Scott, 
' I 'se ware my dame's cauf 's skin on thee.' 

32 ' I vrinna let the kye gae back. 

Neither for thy love nor yet thy fear ; 
But I will drive Jamie Telfer's kye 
In spite of every Scott that 's here.' 

33 ' Set on them, lads ! ' quo Willie than ; 

' Fye, lads, set on them cruellie ! 
For ere they win to the Ritterford, 
Mony a toom saddle there sail be ! * 

34 Then till 't they gaed, wi heart and hand ; 

The blows fell thick as bickering hail ; 



And mony a horse ran masterless, 
And mony a comely cheek was pale. 

35 But Willie was stricken ower the head. 

And through the knapscap the sword has 
gane; 
And Harden grat for very rage. 

Whan Willie on the grund lay slane. 

36 But he 's taen a£E his gude steel cap. 

And thrice he 's waved it in the air ; 
The Dinlay snaw was neer mair white 
Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair. 

37 ' Revenge ! revenge ! ' auld Wat can cry ; 

' Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie ! 
We '11 neer see Tiviot side again, 
Or Willie's death revenged sail be.' 

38 O mony a horse ran masterless. 

The splintered lances flew on hie ; 

But or they wan to the Kershope ford. 

The Scotts had gotten the victory. 

39 John o Brigham there was slane. 

And John o Barlow, as I hear say, 
And thirty raae o the Captain's men 
Lay bleeding on the grund that day. 

40 The Captain was run through the thick of the 

thigh. 
And broken was his right leg-bane ; 
If he had lived this hundred years. 

He had never been loved by woman again. 

41 ' Hae back the kye ! ' the Captain said ; 

' Dear kye, I trow, to some they be ; 
For gin I suld live a hundred years 
There will neer fair lady smile on me.' 

42 Then word is gane to the Captain's bride, 

Even in the bower where that she lay, 

That her lord was prisoner in enemy's land, 

Since into Tividale he had led the way. 

43 * I wad lourd have had a winding-sheet. 

And helped to put it ower his head, 
Ere he had been disgraced by the border Scot, 
Whan he ower Liddel his men did lead ! ' 

44 There was a wild gallant amang us a'. 

His name was Watty wi the Wudspurs, 



8 



191. HUGHIE GRAME 



Cried, On for his house in Stanegirthside, 
If ony man will ride with us ! 

45 When they cam to the Stanegirthside, 

They dang wi trees and burst the door ; 
They loosed out a' the Captain's kye. 
And set them forth our lads before. 

46 There was an auld wyfe ayont the fire, 

A wee bit o the Captain's kin : 
* Whae dar loose out the Captain's kye, 
Or answer to him and his men ? ' 

47 ' It 's I, Watty Wudspurs, loose the kye, 

I winna layne my name f rae thee ; 



And I will loose out the Captain's kye 
In scorn of a' his men and he.' 

48 Whan they cam to the Fair Dodhead, 

They were a wellcum sight to see. 
For instead of his ain ten milk-kye, 

Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three. 

49 And he has paid the rescue-shot, 

Baith wi gowd and white monie. 
And at the burial o Willie Scott 
I wat was mony a weeping ee. 



28S 32*, 38*. Scots, Scot. In the last edition, 

Scotts, Scott. 
29*. drivand in the later edition. 
31*. cauf in the later edition. 
37 ^ gan in the later edition. 



40. " The Editor has used some freedom with 
the original. The account of the Captain's 
disaster (teste laeva vulnerata) is rather too 
naive for literal publication." 



191 

HUGHIE GRAME 



A. ' The Life and Death of Sir Hugh of the Grime.' 
a. Roxburghe Ballads, II, 294. b. Douce Ballads, 
II, 204 b. c. Rawlinson Ballads, 566, fol. 9. d. 
Pills to purge Melancholy, VI, 289, 17. e. Rox- 
burghe Ballads, III, 344. 

B. 'Hughie Graham,' Johnson's Museum, No 303, p. 
312; Cromek, Reliques of Robert Burns, 4th ed., 
1817, p. 287; Cromek, Select Scottish Songs, 1810, 
II, 151. 

C. ' Hughie the Graeme,' Scott's Minstrelsy, 1803, III, 
85; 1833, III, 107. 



D. ' Sir Hugh in the Grime's Downfall,' Roxburghe 
Ballads, III, 456, edited by J. F. Ebsworth for The 
Ballad Society, VI, 598. 

B. ' Sir Hugh the Graeme,' Buchan's MSS, I, 53 ; 
Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient 
Ballads, p. 73, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 

F. Macmath MS., p. 79, two stanzas. 

G. 'Hughie Grame,' Harris MS., fol. 27 b, one stanza. 



Theee is a copy of the broadside among the 
Pepys ballads, II, 148, No 130, printed, like 
a, b, c, for P. Brooksby, with the variation, 
" at the Golden Ball, near the Bear Tavern, 
in Pye Corner." The ballad was given in 
Ritson's Ancient Songs, 1790, p. 192, from 



A a, collated with another copy " in the hands 
of John Baynes, Esq." In a note, p. 332, 
Ritson says : " In the editor's collection is a 
somewhat different ballad upon the same 
subject, intitled ' Sir Hugh in the Grimes 
downfall, or a new song made on Sir Hugh 



191, HUGHIB GRAMS 



9 



in the Grime, who was hangd for stealing the 
Bishop's mare.' It begins, 'Good Lord John 
is a hunting gone.' " This last was evidentlj'^ 
the late and corrupt copy D. Of C Scott 
says : " The present edition was procured for 
me by my friend Mr W. Laidlaw, in Black- 
house, and has been long current in Selkirk- 
shire. Mr Ritson's copy has occasionally 
been resorted to for better readings." B is 
partially rewritten by Cunningham, Songs of 
Scotland, I, 827. The copy in E. H. Evans's 
Old Ballads, 1810, I, 367, is A; that in The 
Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire, First Series, 
p. 47, is of course B ; Aytoun, ed. of 1859, 
II, 128, reprints C; Maidment, 1868, II, 140, 
A, II, 145, C. 

" According to tradition," says Stenhouse, 
" Robert Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle, about 
N the year 1560, seduced the wife of Hugh 
Graham, one of those bold and predatory 
chiefs who so long inhabited what was called 
the debateable land on the English and Scot- 
tish border. Graham, being unable to bring 
so powerful a prelate to justice, in revenge 
made an excursion into Cumberland, and car- 
ried off, inter alia, a fine mare belonging to 
the bishop ; but being closely pursued by Sir 
John Scroope, warden of Carlisle, with a 
party on horseback, was apprehended near 
Solway Moss, and carried to Carlisle, where 
he was tried and convicted of felony. Great 
intercessions were made to save his life, but 
the bishop, it is said, being determined to re- 
move the chief obstacle to his guilty passions, 
remained inexorable, and poor Graham fell a 
victim to his own indiscretion and his wife's 
infidelity. Anthony Wood observes that 
there were many changes in this prelate's 
time, both in church and state, but that he 
retained his office and preferments during 
them all." Musical Museum, 1853, IV, 297. 



The pretended tradition is plainly extracted 
from the ballad, the bishop's name and the 
date being supplied from without. The inter 
alia is introduced, and the mare qualified as 
a fine one, to mitigate the ridiculousness of 
making Hugh Graham steal a mare to retali- 
ate the wrong done him by the bishop. As 
Allan Cunningham remarks, "tradition, in 
all the varieties of her legends, never invented 
such an unnecessary and superfluous reason 
as this. By habit and by nature thieves, the 
Graemes never waited for anything like a pre- 
tence to steal." In passing, it may be ob- 
served that Hugh is quite arbitrarily elevated 
to the rank of a predatory chief. 

Scott suggested in 1803, Minstrelsy, I, 86 f., 
that Hugh Graham may have been one of 
more than four hundred borderers against 
whom complaints were exhibited to the lord 
bishop of Carlisle for incursions, murders, 
burnings, mutilations, and spoils committed 
by the English of Cumberland and Westmore- 
land upon Scots " presently after the queen's 
departure ; " that is, after Mary Stuart's going 
to France, which was in 1548. Nearly a 
third of the names given in a partial list are 
Grames, but there is no Hugh among them.* 
The bishop of Carlisle at the time was Robert 
Aldridge, who held the see from 1537 till his 
death in 1555.t Lord Scroope (Screw) is 
the English warden of the West Marches in 
A, C, D. A Lord Scroope had that office in 
1542, but Lord Wharton, Lord Dacre, and 
others during the last years of Bishop Ald- 
ridge's life, say from 1548 to 1555. Henry 
Lord Scroope of Bolton was appointed to the 
place in 1563, retained it thirty years, and 
was succeeded by his son, Thomas. J Consid- 
ering how long the Scroopes held the warden- 
ship, and that the ballad is not so old as the 
middle of the sixteenth century, the fact that 



y 



* I do not know whether the document cited is extant or 
accessible, or whether it was examined by Mr T. J. Car- 
lyle for his paper on the Debateable Land ; he mentions no 
Hugh Grame, p. 13 f. 

Though Grames are numerous (in 1592 they were con- 
sidered the greatest surname on the west border of Eng- 
land, R. B. Armstrong), I have found only one Hugh out of 
the ballad. Hugh's Francie, that is Hugh's son Francie, is 
in the list of the Grames transported to Ireland in 1607. 

VOL,. IV. 2 



Nicolson and Burn, History of Westmorland and Camber- 
land, I, cxx. 

t Nicolson and Bum, I, Ixxxi, 11, 279 f. As for Bishop 
Aldridge's character, his being a trimmer does not make 
him a "limmer." Ecclesiastics are not infrequently ac- 
cused in ballads, but no man is to lose his reputation with- 
out better evidence than that. 

J Nicolson and Burn, I, x, xiii, xcii. 



10 



191. HUGHIE GBAME 



a Lord Scroope was not warden in the pre- 
cise year when the complaints were addressed 
to the bishop of Carlisle would be of no con- 
sequence if Scott's conjecture were well sup- 
ported. 

The story is the same in A-D, and in B 
also till we near the end, though there are 
variations in the names. The scene is at Car- 
lisle in A, C, D ; at Stirling in B, B, Lord 
Home, who appears as intercessor for Hugh 
Graham in C, exercises the authority of the 
Scottish warden and arrests Hugh in B. 
Lord Home was warden of the east marches 
of Scotland from 1550, and I know not how 
much earlier, to 1564. The Lord Boles of A 
may possibly represent Sir Robert Bowes, 
who was warden of the east marche.3 of Eng- 
land in 1550 and earlier. The Whitefoords 
of B are adopted into the ballad from the 
region in which that version circulated, they 
being " an ancient family in Renfrewshire 
and Lanarkshire, and latterly in Ayrshire." * 

The high jump which Hugh makes in A 



18, C 12, D 4 (fourteen, or even eighteen, 
feet, with his hands tied on his back), is pre- 
sumably an effort at escape, though, for all 
that is said, it might be a leap in the air. In 
B 16-19, the prisoner jumps an eighteen-foot 
wall (tied as before), is defended by four 
brothers against ten pursuers, and sent over 
sea : which is certainly a modern perversion. 
A is strangely corrupted in several places, 
2\ 11*, 13^. Screw is plainly for Scroope. 
Garlard, sometimes printed Garland, is an 
obscuration of Cdrlisle. The extravagance 
in 16^, it is to be hoped, is a corruption 
also. Stanzas 3, 8 of B are obviously, as 
Cromek says, the work of Burns, and the 
same is true of 10^-^ But Burns has left 
some nonsense in 11, 12: 'my sword that's 
bent in the middle clear,' * my sword that's 
bent in the middle brown.' We have more 
of this meaningless phraseology in B 10, 11, 
12, where swords are pointed ' wi the metal 
clear,' ' brown,' ' fine.' Stanza 15 of E is bor- 
rowed from ' Johnie Armstrong.' 



a. Koxburghe Ballads, II, 294. b. Douce Ballads, II, 
204 b. c. Kawlinson Ballads, 566, fol. 9. All printed for 
P. Brooksby: 1672-95(?). d. Pills to purge Melancholy, 
VI, 289, 17. e. Koxburghe Ballads, III, 344. 

1 As it befell upon one time, 

About mid-summer of the year, 
Every man was taxt of his crime, 

For stealing the good Lord Bishop's mare. 

2 The good Lord Screw he sadled a horse, 

And rid after this same scrime ; 
Before he did get over the moss, 

There was he aware of Sir Hugh of the 
Grime. 

3 * Turn, O turn, thou false traytor, 

Turn, and yield thyself unto me ; 
Thou hast stolen the Lord Bishops mare, 
And now thou thinkest away to flee.' 

4 ' No, soft, Lord Screw, that may not be ! 

Here is a broad sword by my side, 



And if that thou canst conquer me, 
The victory will soon be try'd.' 

5 ' I ner was afraid of a traytor bold, 

Although thy name be Hugh in the Grime ; 
I 'le make thee repent thy speeches foul, 
If day and life but give me time.' 

6 ' Then do thy worst, good Lord Screw, 

And deal your blows as fast as you can ; 
It will be try'd between me and you 
Which of us two shall be the best man.' 

7 Thus as they dealt their blows so free. 

And both so bloody at that time, 
Over the moss ten yeomen they see, 

Come for to take Sir Hugh in the Grime. 

8 Sir Hugh set his back against a tree, 

And then the men encompast him round ; 
His mickle sword from his hand did flee. 
And then they brought Sir Hugh to the 
ground. 



* Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire, 1st Series, p. 50. 



191. HUGHIE GRAME 



11 



9 Sir Hugh of the Grime now taken is 
And brought back to Garlard town ; 
[Then cry'd] the good wives all in Garlard 
town, 
' Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou 'st ner gang 
down.' 

10 The good Lord Bishop is come to the town, 

And on the bench is set so high ; 
And every man was taxt to his crime, 

At length he called Sir Hugh in the Grime. 

11 ' Here am I, thou false bishop, 

Thy humours all to fulfill ; 
I do not think my fact so great 

But thou mayst put it into thy own will.' 

12 The quest of jury-men was calld. 

The best that was in Garlard town ; 
Eleven of them spoke all in a breast, 

' Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou 'st ner gang 
down.' 

13 Then another questry-men was calld, 

The best that was in Rumary ; 
Twelve of them spoke all in a breast, 

' Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou'st now guilty.' 

14 Then came down my good Lord Boles, 

Falling down upon his knee : 
' Five hundred pieces of gold would I give. 
To grant Sir Hugh in the Grime to me.* 

15 ' Peace, peace, ray good Lord Boles, 

And of your speeches set them by ! 
If there be eleven Grimes all of a name, 
Then by my own honour they all should 
dye.' 

16 Then came down my good Lady Ward, 

Falling low upon her knee : 



' Five hundred measures of gold I 'le give. 
To grant Sir Hugh of the Grime to me.' 

17 ' Peace, peace, my good Lady Ward, 

None of your proffers shall him buy ! 
For if there be twelve Grimes all of a name. 
By my own honour they all should dye.' 

18 Sir Hugh of the Grime 's condemnd to dye. 

And of his friends he had no lack ; 
Fourteen foot he leapt in his ward. 
His hands boimd fast upon his back. 

19 Then he lookt over his left shoulder, 

To see whom he could see or spy ; 
Then was he aware of his father dear, 
Came tearing his hair most pittifully. 

20 ' Peace, peace, my father dear. 

And of your speeches set them by ! 
Though they have bereavd me of my life. 
They cannot bereave me of heaven so high.' 

21 He lookt over his right shoulder, 

To see whom he could see or spye ; 
There was he aware of his mother dear. 
Came tearing her hair most pittifully. 

22 'Pray have me remembred to Peggy, my 

wife ; 
As she and I walkt over the moor. 
She was the cause of [the loss of] my life. 
And with the old bishop she plaid the 
whore. 

23 'Here, Johnny Armstrong, take thou my 

sword. 
That is made of the mettle so fine. 
And when thou comst to the border-side. 
Remember the death of Sir Hugh of the 

Grime.' 



Johnson's Museum, No 303, p. 312, contributed by Bums; 
Cromek, Reliques of Robert Burns, 4th ed., 1817, p. 287; 
Croniek, Select Scottish Songs, etc., 1810, II, 151. From 
oral tradition in Ayrshire. 

1 Our lords are to the mountains gane, 
A hunting o the fallow deer, 
And they hae gripet Hughie Graham, 
For stealing o the bishop's mare. 



2 And they hae tied him hand and foot, 

And led him up thro Stirling town ; 
The lads and lasses met him there. 

Cried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loan ! 

3 ' O lowse my right hand free,' he says, 

* And put my braid sword in the same, 
He 's no in Stirling town this day 

Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham.' 



12 



191. HTJGHIE GRAME 



4 Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord, 

As he sat by the bishop's knee : 
* Five hundred white stots I '11 gie you, 
If ye '11 let Hughie Graham gae free.' 

5 ' baud your tongue,' the bishop says, 

' And wi your pleading let me be ! 
For tho ten Grahams were in his coat, 
Hughie Graham this day shall die.' 

6 Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord, 

As she sat by the bishop's knee : 
' Five hundred white pence I 'U gee you, 
If ye 'U gie Hughie Graham to me.' 

7 ' baud your tongue now, lady fair, 

And wi your pleading let it be ! 
Altho ten Grahams were in his coat, 
It 's for my honour he maun die.' 

8 They 've taen him to the gallows-knowe, 

He looked to the gallows-tree, 
Yet never colour left his cheek, 
Nor ever did he blink his ee. 

9 At length he looked round about. 

To see whatever he could spy. 



And there he saw his auld father, 
And he was weeping bitterly. 

10 * baud your tongue, my father dear, 

And wi your weeping let it be ! 
Thy weeping 's sairer on my heart 
Than a' that they can do to me. 

11 * And ye may gie my brother John 

My sword that 's bent in the middle clear. 
And let him come at twelve o'clock. 
And see me pay the bishop's mare. 

12 ' And ye may gie my brother James 

My sword that 's bent in the middle brown, 
And bid him come at four o'clock. 
And see his brother Hugh cut down. 

13 ' Remember me to Maggy my wife. 

The niest time ye gang oer the moor ; 
Tell her, she staw the bishop's mare. 
Tell her, she was the bishop's whore. 

14 ' And ye may tell my kith and kin 

I never did disgrace their blood, 
And when they meet the bishop's cloak, 
To mak it shorter by the hood.' 



o 



Scott's Minstrelsy, 1803, III, 85, 1833, III, 107, procured 
by W. Laidlaw in Blackhouse, and long current in Selkirk- 
shire ; with readings from Ritson's copy. 

1 GuDE Lord Scroope 's to the hunting gane. 

He has ridden oer moss and muir. 
And he has grippet Hughie the Graeme, 
For stealing o the bishop's mare. 

2 *Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not 

be! 
Here hangs a broad sword by my side, 
And if that thou canst conquer me. 
The matter it may soon be tryed.' 

3 ' I neer was afraid of a traitor thief ; 

Although thy name be Hughie the Graeme, 
I '11 make thee repent thee of thy deeds. 
If God but grant me life and time.' 

4 ' Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope, 

And deal your blows as hard as you can ; 



It shall be tried, within an hour. 
Which of us two is the better man.' 

5 But as they were dealing their blows so free, 

And both so bloody at the time, 
Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall, 
All for to take brave Hughie the Graeme. 

6 Then they hae grippit Hughie the Graeme, 

And brought him up through Carlisle town ; 
The lasses and lads stood on the walls, 
Crying, Hughie the Graeme, thou 'se neer 
gae down ! 

7 Then they hae chosen a jury of men. 

The best that were in Carlisle town. 
And twelve of them cried out at once, 
Hughie the Graeme, thou must gae down I 

8 Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume, 

As he sat by the judge's knee : 
' Twenty white owsen, my gude lord. 

If you '11 grant Hughie the Graeme to me.' 



191. HXJGHIE GRAME 



13 



9 ' O no, no, my gude Lord Hume, 
Forsooth and sae it mauna be ; 
For were there but three Graemes of the name. 
They suld be hanged a' for me.' 

10 'T was up and spake the gude Lady Hume, 

As she sat by the judge's knee : 
* A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge, 
If you '11 grant Hughie the Graeme to me.' 

11 * no, O no, my gude Lady Hume, 

Forsooth and so it mustna be ; 
Were he but the one Graeme of the name, 
He suld be hanged high for me.' 

12 * If I be guilty,' said Hughie the Graeme, 

' Of me my friends shall hae small talk ; ' 
And he has loupd fifteen feet and three. 
Though his hands they were tied behind his 
back. 



13 He looked over his left shoulder, 

And for to see what he might see ; 
There was he aware of his auld father. 
Came tearing his hair most piteouslie. 

14 ' hald your tongue, my father,' he says, 

' And see that ye dinna weep for me ! 
For they may ravish me o my life. 

But they cauna banish me fro heaven hie. 

15 * Fare ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife ! 

The last time we came ower the muir 
'T was thou bereft me of my life. 

And wi the bishop thou playd the whore. 

16 ' Here, Johnnie Armstrang, take thou my 

sword. 
That is made o the metal sae fine, 
And when thou comest to the English side 
Remember the death of Hughie the Graeme.' 



Roxburghe Ballads, III, 456 ; edited for the Ballad So- 
ciety by J. W. Ebsworth, VI, 598. 

1 Good Lord John is a hunting gone, 

Over the hills and dales so far. 
For to take Sir Hugh in the Grime, 
For stealing of the bishop's mare. 
^ He derry derry down 

2 Hugh in the Grime was taken then 

And carried to Carlisle town ; 
The merry women came out amain. 

Saying, The name of Grime shall never go 
down! 

3 then a jury of women was brought. 

Of the best that could be found ; 
Eleven of them spoke all at once. 

Saying, The name of Grime shall never go 
down! 

4 And then a jury of men was brought. 

More the pity for to be ! 
Eleven of them spoke all at once, 

Saying, Hugh in the Grime, you are 
guilty. 

5 Hugh in the Grime was cast to be hangd. 

Many of his friends did for him lack ; 



For fifteen foot in the prisin he did jump. 
With his hands tyed fast behind his back. 

6 Then bespoke our good Lady Ward, 

As she set on the bench so high : 
' A peck of white pennys I '11 give to my lord, 
If he '11 grant Hugh Grime to me. 

7 ' And if it be not full enough, 

I '11 stroke it up with my silver fan ; 
And if it be not full enough, 

I '11 heap it up with my own hand.' 

8 ' Hold your tongue now. Lady Ward, 

And of your talkitive let it be ! 
There is never a Grime came in this court 
That at thy bidding shall saved be.' 

9 Then bespoke our good Lady Moor, 

As she sat on the bench so high : 
' A yoke of fat oxen I '11 give to my lord, 
If he '11 grant Hugh Grime to me.' 

10 ' Hold your tongue now, good Lady Moor, 

And of your talkitive let it be ! 
There is never a Grime came to this court 
That at thy bidding shall saved be.' 

11 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out of the door, 

With his hand out of the bar ; 



14 



191. HUGHIB GRAME 



There he spy'd his father dear, 
Tearing of his golden hair. 

12 * Hold your tongue, good father dear, 

And of your weeping let it be ! 
For if they bereave me of my life. 

They cannot bereave me of the heavens 
so high.' 

13 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out at the 

door. 
Oh, what a sorry heart had he ! 



There [he] spy'd his mother dear. 

Weeping and wailing ' Oh, woe is me ! ' 

14 ' Hold your tongue now, mother dear, 

And of your weeping let it be ! 
For if they bereave me of my life. 

They cannot bereave me of heaven's fee. 

15 * I 'U leave my sword to Johnny Armstrong 

That is made of mettal so fine. 
That when he comes to the border-side 
He may think of Hugh in the Grime.' 



B 

Buchan's MSS, I, 53. 

1 Lord Home he is a hunting gane. 

Through the woods and valleys clear, 
And he has taen Sir Hugh the Graeme, 
For stealing o the bishop's mare. 

2 They hae taen Sir Hugh the Graeme, 

Led him down thro Strieveling town ; 
Fifeteen o them cried a' at ance, 

' Sir Hugh the Graeme he must go down ! * 

3 They hae causd a court to sit, 

Mang a' their best nobilitie ; 
Fifeteen o them cried a' at ance, 

' Sir Hugh the Graeme he now must die ! ' 

4 Out it speaks the lady Black, 

And o her will she was right free : 

* A thousand pounds, my lord, I '11 gie, 

If Hugh the Graeme set free to me.' 

5 * Hold your tongue, ye Lady Black, 

And ye '11 let a' your pleadings be ! 
Though ye woud gie me thousands ten, 
It 's for my honour he must die.' 

6 Then out it speaks her Lady Bruce, 

And o her will she was right free : 

* A hundred steeds, my lord, I '11 gie. 

If ye '11 gie Hugh the Graeme to me.' 

7 ' O hold your tongue, ye Lady Bruce, 

And ye '11 let a' your pleadings be ! 
Though a' the Graemes were in this court, 
It 's for my honour he must die.' 



8 He looked over his shoulder. 

It was to see what he coud see, 
And there he saw his auld father. 
Weeping and wailing bitterlie. 

9 * O hold your tongue, my old father. 

And ye '11 let a' your mourning be ! 
Though they bereave me o my life. 
They canno had the heavens frae me. 

10 ' Ye '11 gie my brother John the sword 

That 's pointed wi the metal clear, 
And bid him come at eight o'clock. 
And see me pay the bishop's mare. 

11 'And, brother James, take here the sword 

That 's pointed wi the metal brown ; 
Come up the morn at eight o'clock. 
And see your brother putten down. 

12 ' And, brother Allan, take this sword 

That 's pointed wi the metal fine ; 
Come up the morn at eight o'clock, 
And see the death o Hugh the Graeme. 

13 ' Ye '11 tell this news to Maggy my wife, 

Niest time ye gang to Strievling town. 
She is the cause I lose my life. 
She wi the bishop playd the loon.' 

14 Again he ower his shoulder lookd, 

It was to see what he could see. 
And there he saw his little son, 

Was screaming by his nourice knee. 

15 Then out it spake the little son, 

' Since 'tis the morn that he must die. 



191. HUGHIE GRAME 



15 



If that I live to be a man, 

My father's death revengd shall be.' 

16 ' If I must die,' Sir Hugh replied, 

' My friends o me they will think lack ; ' 
He leapd a wa eighteen feet high, 
Wi his hands bound behind his back. 

17 Lord Home then raised ten armed men, 

And after him they did pursue ; 



Macmath MS., p. 79. " Received by me 20th August 
and 7th September, 1887, from my aunt. Miss Jane Web- 
ster, who derived it from her mother, Janet Spark, Kirkcud- 
brightshire." 

1 * Yb may tell to my wife Maggie, 
When that she comes to the fair, 



G 

Harris MS., fol. 27 b. 

Dukes an lords a huntin gane, 
Over hills an vallies clear ; 



But he has trudged ower the plain 

As fast as ony bird that flew. 

18 He looked ower his left shoulder, 

It was to see what he coud see ; 
His brother John was at his back. 
And a' the rest o his brothers three. 

19 Some they wound, and some they slew. 

They fought sae fierce and valiantly ; 
They made his enemies for to yield, 
And sent Sir Hugh out ower the sea. 



She was the cause of all my ruin. 

It was her that stole the bishop's mare. 

2 * Ye may tell to my wife Maggie, 
When that she comes to the town, 
She was the cause of all my ruin. 

It was her that stole the bishop's gown.* 



There the 've bound him Hughie Grame, 
For stealin o the bishop's mare. 



A. a. Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, 
in West-smith-field, neer the Hospital-gate. 
12\ Garland. 13^. another. 
22*. the causer of my life. 
^ b. To a pleasant new northern tune. 

Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden-Ball, 
in Westsmithfield. 
3*. Lords. 9'. Then cry'd wanting. 
9*. never. 10*. of the. 12^^. Garlard. 
13^ other. 21*. ware. 
22*. the causer of my life. 22*. plays. 
23". borders. 
C. Printed for P. Brooksby [torn off'] West- 
smith-field. 
2*. he wanting. 5'. of thy. 
9*. Then cry'd wanting. 10*. of the. 
118. thy fact. 122. Garlard. 13^ other. 
21*. ware. 22'. the causer of my life. 
22*. plays. 23". borders. 
d. 2^ the same serime. 8^ again. 



82. compast. 9^'^, 12*. Garland. 
9*. Then cry'd. 10^. the wanting. 
11*. it wanting. 13^ other. 14'. will I. 
17*. they wanting. 22'. cause of the loss. 
e. iVo imprint. 

2^. rid wanting: the same. 2'. he could. 
52. my /or thy. 7^ as wanting. 
8^. compast. 9^''. Garland. 
9'. Then cry'd. 10^ to town. 
10*. calld to. 112. for to. 131. other. 
14«. will I. 18*. With his. 19*. come. 
22'. of the loss of. 
. 8*. blin' in Johnson^ s Museum : blink in Cro- 

mek. 
. Sir Hugh in the Grime's Downfall, or, A New 
Song made on Sir Hugh in the Grime, who 
was hangd for stealing the Bishop's Mare. 
London: Printed and sold by L. How. 
(About 1770?) 
52. didleet: c/. A18«. 10*. biding. 14}. tonge. 



16 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HABPEB 



192 

THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



cal, Traditional, and Antiquarian Magazine, 1849, 
p. 58. 



A. a. ♦ The Blind Harper of Lochmaben,' Glenrid- 
dell MSS, XI, 42, 1791. b. <The Blind Harper,' 
Johnson's Museum, No 579, 1803. c. 'The Loch- 
maben Harper,* Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, D. Macmath MS, p. 35. 
1802, I, 65 ; 1833, I, 422. 

E. « The Jolly Harper,' Buchan's MSS, I, 35; Dixon, 

B. * Lochmaben Harper,' Glenriddell MSS, XI, 39. Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, 

Percy Society, vol. xvii, p. 3 7. 

C. *The Auld Harper,' The Edinburgh Topographi- 



Thb Stationers' Registers, 22 July, 1564- 
22 July, 1565, Arber, I, 260, liave an entry of 
a fee from Owyn Rogers for license to print " a 
ballett intituled The Blende Harper, etc."; 
and again, the following year, Arber, I, 294, of 
a fee from Lucas Haryson for license to print 
" a ballet intituled The Blynde Harpers, with 
the Answere." Nothing further is known of 
this ballet. 

Boyd, the translator of Dante, had a recol- 
lection of a ballad of a Scotch minstrel who 
stole a horse from one of the Henries of Eng- 
land : Ritson, Seotish Song, I, xxxvi, note 25, 
1794. 

Printed in Scott's Minstrelsy, 1802 (A o), 
and the next year in the Musical Museum 
(A b), as communicated by Burns. Bums's 
copy differs very slightly from A a, however 
he came by it. Scott had access to the Glen- 
riddell collection, and his ballad (of which he 
gives no account) was made by changing A a 
to his taste, substituting one stanza of his own 
in place of 18, and the last two of B, with 
alterations, for the last of A a. To reduce 
improbabilities, Scott put the Lord Warden 
for King Henry. 

C was pointed out to me, and transcribed 
from the short-lived periodical in which it was 
printed, by Mr James Barclay Murdoch, to 

* See also a paper by Dr Arthur Mitchell in the Proceed- 
ings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, XII, 260, 
June 11, 1877. Dr Mitchell was with Mr Murray when he 



whom I have been from the beginning in- 
debted for the most essential help. 

Of D Mr Macmath writes : This version 
was copied by me in fac-simile from the origi- 
nal manuscript in the handwriting of the late 
Rev. George Murray, of Troquhain, minister 
of Balmaclellan, in the Stewartry of Kirkcud- 
bright, and was in possession of his son, the 
Rev. George Murray, to whose kindness I was 
indebted for the loan of it. The late Mr 
Murray took down the ballad from the sing- 
ing of Sarah Rae, a poor weak-minded woman 
of his parish. Sarah Rae was the last person 
known to Mr Murray — and he was a keen 
observer of such matters — to use the distaff. 
The present Mr George Murray wrote to me 
on 12th January, 1883 : " I may add that I 
have heard her sing the ballad myself, to a X 
very simple but particularly plaintive lilt — 
more like a rapid chant than an ordinary song 
— - which rings in my ear yet, although I only 
heard it once, when a lad." * 

A-0. A harper of Lochmaben (blind. A, B) 
who means to steal the Wanton Brown, a 
horse of King Henry's, consults with his wife 
before setting about the business, and gets a 
few valuable hints ; among them, to leave his 
mare's foal at home. He goes up to England, 
and has the good luck, so common in ballads, 

visited Sarah Rae, and he supplies the date 1866. The last 
stanza of the ballad and the burden are cited in this paper. 



192. THE LOCHMABBN HARPER 



17 



of finding King Henry at his gate. The king 
wants to hear some of his harping, and, as the 
harper makes a difficulty about the stabling of 
his mare, orders the beast to be put into his 
own stable. The harper harps all his hearers 
asleep; then makes his way softly to the 
stable, slips a halter over the Wanton's nose 
and ties him to the mare's tail, and turns the 
mare out. She goes straight to Lochmaben, 
to her foal, neighs at the harper's house, and 
is let in by the servant-lass, who exclaims at 
the braw foal that the mare has got. In the 
morning they find in England that both the 
Wanton Brown and the mare have been 
stolen. The harper breaks out into ' allaces : ' 
he has lost a foal in Scotland and had his 
mare stolen in England! The king quiets 
him with a promise of a better mare and pay 
for his foal to boot. 



In D, E, the harper steals the horse on a 
wager, which, however, is passed over lightly 
in D. The wager in B is with two knights of 
Stirling, five ploughs of land with one and five 
thousand pounds with the other, and " John " 
has to go all the way to London to win it. 
The knights pay their loss and then restore 
the Wanton Brown to Henry! — so great an 
improvement upon the dealings of the Scots 
with English horseflesh as to compel one to 
assign this particular version of the st jry to 
the nineteenth, if not the twentieth, century.* 

The twelve armed men in armor bright 
that guard the stable night and day in E 23 
remind us of popular tales ; as of the Grimms' 
' Master Thief.' 

A b is loosely translated by Knortz, Schot- 
tische Balladen, No 16, p. 58. 



a. Glenriddell MS, XI, 42, 1791 ; "from a MS. collection 
of Mr Heuderson." b. Johnson's Museum, No 579, VI, 
598, 1803, communicated by Burns, c. Scott's Minstrelsy, 
1802, 1, 65. 

1 Heard ye eer of the silly blind harper, 

That long livd in Lochmaben town, 
How he wad gang to fair England, 

To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown ? 

(Sing, Faden dilly and faden dilly 
Sing, Faden dilly and deedle dan 

2 But first he gaed to his gude wife, 

Wi a' the speed that he coud thole ; 
* This wark,' quo he, ' will never work 
Without a mare that has a foal.' 

3 Quo she, Thou has a gude gray mare, 

That'al rin oer hills baith law and hie ; 
Gae tak the gray mare in thy hand, 
And leave the foal at hame wi me. 

* The innocent comments of certain editors must not be 
lost. " The whole incident surely implies a very early and 
primitive system of manners, not to speak of the circum- 
stance of the court being held at Carlisle, which never 
was the case in any late period of English history." (Cham- 
bers's Scottish Ballads, p. 306.) "In our version [E] the 
scene of the theft is laid at London, but Carlisle, we are in- 

VOl.. IV. 2 



4 * And tak a halter in thy hose, 

And o thy purpose dinna fail ; 
But wap it oer the Wanton's nose, 
And tie her to the gray mare's tail. 

5 * Syne ca her out at yon back geate, 

Oer moss and muir and ilka dale ; 
For she '11 neer let the Wanton bite 
Till she come hame to her ain foal.' 

6 So he is up to England gane, 

Even as fast as he can hie. 
Till he came to King Henry's geate ; 
And wha was there but King Henry ? 

7 * Come in,' quo he, ' thou silly blind harper, 

And of thy harping let me hear ; ' 
< 0, by my sooth,' quo the silly blind harper, 
* I 'd rather hae stabling for my mare.' 

8 The king he looks oer his left shoulder, 

And says unto his stable-groom, 

clined to think, is the true reading. The great distance 
between Scotland and London, and the nature of the roads 
in times of old, would render the event an improbable, if 
not altogether an impossible, one to have occurred ; and we 
can easily imagine, when the court was at Carlisle, that 
such a good practical joke was planned and carried into 
execution by some waggish courtiers." (Dixon, p. 93 f.) 



18 



193. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



Gae tak the silly poor harper's mare, 
And tie her side my Wanton Brown. 

9 And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, 
Till a' the lords had fitted the floor ; 
They thought the music was sae sweet, 
And they forgot the stable-door. 

10 And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, 

Till a' the nobles were sound asleep ; 
Than quietly he took aff his shoon, 
And safly down the stair did creep. 

11 Syne to the stable-door he hies, 

Wi tread as light as light coud be, 
And when he opned and gaed in, 

There he fand thirty gude steads and three. 

12 He took the halter frae his hose, 

And of his purpose did na fail ; / 

He slipt it oer the "Wanton's nose, 
And tied it to his gray mare's taiL 

13 He ca'd her out at yon back geate, 

Oer moss and muir and ilka dale, 
And she loot neer the Wanton bite. 
But held her stUl gaun at her tail. 

14 The gray mare was right swift o fit, 

And did na fail to find the way. 
For she was at Lochmaben geate 
Fu lang three hours ere 't was day. 

15 When she came to the harper's door, 

There she gave mony a nicher and sneer ; 



* Rise,' quo the wife, ' thou lazey lass, 

Let in thy master and his mare.' 

16 Then up she rose, pat on her claes, 

And lookit out through the lock-hole ; 

* O, by my sooth,' then quoth the lass, 

' Our mare has gotten a braw big foal ! ' 

17 ' Come had thy peace, thou foolish lass. 

The moon 's but glancing in thy eye ; 
I '11 wad my hail fee against a groat, 
It 's bigger than eer our foal will be.' 

18 The neighbours too that heard the noise 

Cried to the wife to put hir in ; 

* By my sooth,' then quo the wife, 

'She 's better than ever he rade on.* 

19 But on the morn, at fair day light, 

When they had ended a' thier chear, 

King Henry's Wanton Brown was stawn, 

And eke the poor old harper's mare. 

20 ' Allace ! allace ! ' says the silly blind harper, 

' Allace, allace, that I came here ! 
In Scotland I 've tint a braw cowte-foal. 

In England they 've stawn my gude gray 



21 * Come had thy tongue, thou silly blind harper, 
And of thy allacing let me be ; 
For thou shalt get a better mare. 

And weel paid shall thy cowte-foal be.' 



B 



Glenriddell MSS, XI, 39, 1791 ; " from Dr Clapperton, of 
Lochmaben." 

1 Hakd ye tell of the silly blind harper ? 

Long he lived in Lochmaben town ; 
He 's away to fair Carlisle, 

To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown. 
Sing, Fadle didle dodle didle 
Sing, Fadle didle fadle doo 

2 He has mounted his auld gray mare. 

And ridden oer both hills and mire, 



Till he came to fair Carlisle town. 
And askd for stabling to his mare. 

3 * Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper, 

' Some of thy harping let us hear ; ' 
' By my sooth,' says the silly blind harper, 
* I would rather hae stabling to my mare.' 

4 The king looked oer his left shoulder 

And called to his stable-groom : 
* Gae stable up the harper's mare. 

And just beyond the Wanton Brown.' 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



19 



6 Ay he carped, and ay he harped, 

Till a' the lords gaed thro the floor ; 
But and the musick was sae sweet 
The groom forgot the key o the stable-door. 

6 Ay he harped, and ay he carped, 

Till a' the lords fell fast asleep. 
And, like a fause deceiver as he was. 
He quickly down the stair did creep. 

7 He pulld a colt-halter out o his hoe, 

On purpose as I shall to you tell ; 
He sliped it oer the Wanton's nose. 
And tyed it to his gray mare's tail. 

8 * My blessing light upon my wife ! 

I think she be a daily flower ; 
She told me to ken my ain gray mare 
When eer I felt her by the ewer.' 

9 ' Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper, 

Some of thy harping let us hear : ' 
* Oh and alas ! ' says the silly blind harper, 
' Oh and alas that eer I came here ! 

10 * For in Scotland I lost a good brown foal, 
And in England a good gray mare. 



11 ' Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper. 

Some of thy harping let us hear. 
And thy brown foal shall be well payed. 
And thou's hae a far better gray mare.' 

12 Ay he harped, and ay he carped. 

And some of his harping he let them hear, 
And his brown foal it was well payed, 
And he got a better gi-ay mare. 

13 His mare 's away to Lochmaben, 

Wi mony a nicker and mony a sneer ; 
His wife cry'd, Rise up, you lazy lass, 
Let in your master and his mare. 

14 The lazy lass was loth to rise ; 

She looked through a little hole ; 
* By my troth,' crys the lazy lass, 
* Our mare has brought a bonie foal.' 

15 ' Rise up, rise up, thou lazy lass. 

And, een as the sun it shines sae clear, 
I '11 wager my life against a groat 

The foal was better than ever the mare.* 



The Edinburgh Topographical, Traditional, and Anti- 
quarian Magazine, 1849, p. 58; communicated by W. G. 
" from the recitation of a friend, who learned it many years 
ago from her grandfather," a farmer in Wigtonshire, who 
died in 1813, at the age of ninety-four. 

1 It 's hae ye heard tell o the auld harper 

That lang lived in Lochmaben town. 
How he maun awa to England fair, 

To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown ? 
Faw aiden diden an diden an diden 
Faw aiden diden faw aiden dee 

2 Out then bespak his gude auld wife, 

I wat she spak out very wiselie ; 
* Ye '11 ride the mear to England fair. 
But the foal ye '11 leave at hame wi me. 

3 * Ye '11 hide your halter in o your hose, 

And o your purpose ye '11 no fail ; 



Ye '11 cast a hook on the Wanton's nose. 
And tie him to the gray mear's tail. 

4 * Ye '11 lead them awa by a back yett. 

And hound them out at a wee hole ; 
The mear she '11 neer [let] the Wanton bait 
Till hame at Lochmaben town wi her foaL' 

5 Awa then rade the auld harper, 

I wat he rade right merrUie, 
Until he cam to England fair. 

Where wonned the gude King Henerie. 

6 ' Light down, light down, ye auld harper. 

And some o your harping let me hear ; 
' O williwa ! ' quo the auld harper, 
Will I get stabling for my mear ? * 



20 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



7 And aye he harped and he carped, 

Till a' the lordlings fell asleep ; 
Syne bundled his fiddles upon his back, 
And down the stairs f u fast did creep. 

8 He 's taen the halter out o his hose. 

And o his purpose he didna fail ; 
He 's cast a hook on the Wanton's nose, 
And tied him to the gray mear's tale. 

9 He 's led them awa by the back yett. 

And hounded them out at a wee hole ; 
The mear she neer let the "Wanton bait 
Till hame at Lochmaben town wi her foal. 

10 And when they cam to the house-end, 

Wi mony a nicker but an a neigh, 
They waukend the auld wife out o her sleep ; 
She was ardreaming she was fouie. 

11 ' Rise up, rise up, my servant-lass, 

Let in your master and his mear ; ' 
' It 's by my sooth,' the wee lassie goud say, 
' I 'm in a sleeping drowsy air.' 

12 Wi mony a gaunt she turned her round. 

And keekit through at a wee hole ; 



' It 's by my sooth ! ' the wee lassie goud say, 
' Our mear has gotten a braw brown foal ! ' 

13 ' Lie still, lie still, ye lazy lass. 

It 's but the moon shines in your ee ; ' 

* Na, by my sooth,' the lassie goud say, 

' And he 's bigger than ony o his degree.' 

14 Then lightly rose the gude auld wife, 

I wat the first up in a' the town ; 
She took the grit oats intil her lap 

And fodderd King Henry's Wanton Brown. 

15 King Henry's groom rase in the morn, 

And he was of a sorry cheer : 

* King Henry's Wanton Brown 's awa, 

And sae is the silly auld harper's mear ! ' 

16 Up then rase the auld harper, 

And loudly he did curse and swear : 
' In Scotland they but steald my foal. 
In England ye hae steald my mear ! ' 

17 * It 's hand your tongue," King Henry did say, 

' Ye '11 hae nae cause to curse or swear ; 
Here 's thirty guineas for your foal. 
And three times thirty for your mear.' 



Taken down by the Rev George Mnrray from the sing- 
ing of Sarah Bae, a weak-minded woman of Balmaclellan, 
Kirkcudbright, 1866. Communicated by Mr Macmath. 



1 There was a poor silly harper-man, 

And he lived in Lochmaben toon. 
And he has wagered wi lairds and lords. 
And mony a guinea against a croon. 
Tum tid iddly 

Dodaly diddely ^ 

Tidaly diddaly 
Dodaly dan 

2 And he has wagered wi lairds and lords. 

And mony a guinea against a croon. 
That into England he would go, 

And steal King Henerie's Wanton Broun. 

3 Out spak the silly poor harper's wife, 

And O but she spak wililie : 



* If into England you do go, 

Leave the wee-wee foal wi me.' 

4 The harper he got on to ride, 

And but he rode richt highlie ! 

The very first man that he did meet, 

They said it was King Henerie. 

5 ' Licht doon, licht doon, ye silly poor harper. 

And o youT harping let me hear ; ' 
' And by my sooth,' quoth the silly poor harper, 
* I 'd rather hae stabling for my mear.' 

6 O he lookit ower his left shoulder. 

And saw ane of the stable-grooms : 

* Go take the sillie poor harper's mear. 

And stable her by my Wanton Brown.' 

7 And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit. 

Till a' the nobles fell on the floor. 
And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit. 

Till they forgot the key of the stable-door. 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



21 



8 And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit, 

Till a' the nobles fell fast asleep ; 
He has taen his harp upon his back, 
And doon the stair did softly creep. 

9 He has taen a halter frae his hose, 

And o his purpose did not fail ; 
He coost a wap on Wanton's nose, 
And tyed her to his ain mear's tail. 

10 He ca'd her through at the bye-yett, 

Through mony a syre and mony a hole ; 
She never loot Wanton licht till she 
Was at Lochmaben, at her foal. 

11 And she came oer Lochmaben heights, 

Wi mony a nicker and mony a sneeze, 
And waukend the silly poor harper's wife, 
As she was a sleeping at her ease. 

12 ' Rise up, rise up, ye servant-lass, 

Let in the maister and the mear ; ' 
' By my sooth,' quoth the servant-lass, 
' I think my maister be na here.' 

13 Up then rose the servant-lass. 

And lookit through a wee, wee hole ; 



* By my sooth,' quoth the servant-lass, 
' Our mear has gotten a waly foal.' 

14 * Ye clatter, ye clatter, ye servant-lass. 

It is the moon shines in your ee ; ' 
' By my sooth,' quoth the servant-lass, 
' It 's mair than ever her ain will be.' 

15 It 's whan the stable-groom awoke, 

Put a' the nobles in a fear ; 
King Henerie's Wanton Brown was stown, 
And Oh ! the silly poor harper's mear. 

16 Out then spak the silly poor harper, 

Says, Oh, this loss I douna thole ! 
In England fair a guid grey mear, 
In fair Scotland a guid cout-foal. 

17 ' Haud your tongue, ye sillie poor harper. 

And wi your carping let me be ; 
Here 's ten pounds for your auld gray mear, 
And a weel paid foal it 's be to thee ! ' 

18 And the silly poor harper's wife. 

She 's aye first up in Lochmaben toun ; 
She 's stealing the corn and stealing the hay, 
And wappin it oer to Wanton Broun. 



E 



Bachan's MSS, I, 35 ; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Ver- 
sions of Ancient Ballads, p. 37, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 

1 There was a jolly harper-man. 

That harped aye frae toun to toun ; 
A wager he made, with two knights he laid 
To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown. 

2 Sir Roger he wagered five ploughs o land, 

Sir Charles wagered five thousand pound, 
And John he 's taen the deed in hand, 
To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown. 

3 He 's taen his harp into his hand, 

And he gaed harping thro the toun. 
And as the king in his palace sat, 
His ear was touched wi the soun. 

4 ' Come in, come in, ye harper-man. 

Some o your harping let me hear ; * 



* Indeed, my liege, and by your grace, 
I 'd rather hae stabling to my mare.' 

5 ' Ye '11 gang to yon outer court, 

That stands a little below the toun ; 
Ye '11 find a stable snug and neat. 

Where stands my stately Wanton Brown.' 

6 He 's down him to the outer court. 

That stood a little below the toun ; 
There found a stable snug and neat, 
For stately stood the Wanton Brown. 

7 Then he has fixd a good strong cord 

Unto his grey mare's bridle-rein, 
And tied it unto that steed's tail. 
Syne shut the stable-door behln. 

8 Then he harped on, an he carped on, 

Till all were fast asleep ; 



22 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



Then down thro bower and ha he 's gone, 
Even on his hands and feet. 

9 He 's to yon stable snug and neat, 
That lay a little below the toun ; 
For there he placed his ain grey mare, 
Alang wi Henry's Wanton Brown. 

10 * Ye '11 do you down thro mire an moss. 

Thro mony bog an lairy hole ; 
But never miss your Wanton slack ; 
Ye '11 gang to Mayblane, to your foal.' 

11 As soon's the door he had unshut, 

The mare gaed prancing frae the town. 
An at her bridle-rein was tied 
Henry's stately Wanton Brown. 

12 Then she did rin thro mire an moss. 

Thro mony bog an miery hole ; 
But never missed her Wanton slack 
Till she reachd Mayblane, to her foal. 

13 When the king awaked from sleep 

He to the harper-man did say, 

waken ye, waken ye, jolly John, 
We 've fairly slept till it is day. 

14 * Win up, win up, ye harper-man, 

Some mair o harping ye '11 gie me : * 
He said, My liege, wi a' my heart. 

But first my gude grey mare maun see. 

15 Then forth he ran, and in he came. 

Dropping mony a feigned tear : 
' Some rogue [s] hae broke the outer court. 
An stown awa my gude grey mare.' 

16 * Then by my sooth,' the king replied, 

' If there 's been rogues into the toun, 

1 fear, as well as your grey mare, 

Awa is my stately Wanton Brown.' 

17 * My loss is great,' the harper said, 

* My loss is twice as great, I fear ; 
In Scotland I lost a gude grey steed. 
An here I 've lost a gude grey mare.' 

18 * Come on, come on, ye harper-man, 

Some o your music lat me hear ; 



Well paid ye 'se be, John, for the same. 
An likewise for your gude grey mare.' 

19 When that John his money received. 

Then he went harping frae the toun, 
• But little did King Henry ken 

He 'd stown awa his Wanton Brown. 

20 The knights then lay ower castle-wa. 

An they beheld baith dale an down. 
An saw the jolly harper-man 

Come harping on to Striveling toun. 

21 Then, ' By my sooth,' Sir Roger said, 

' Are ye returned back to toun ? 
I doubt my lad ye hae ill sped 
Of stealing o the Wanton Brown.' 

22 * I hae been into fair England, 

An even into Lunan toun. 
An in King Henry's outer court. 
An stown awa the Wanton Brown.' 

23 * Ye lie, ye lie,' Sir Charles he said, 

* An aye sae loud 's I hear ye lie ; 
Twall armed men, in armour bright, 
They guard the stable night and day.' 

24 ' But I did harp them all asleep. 

An managed my business cunninglie ; 
If ye make light o what I say. 
Come to my stable an ye '11 see. 

25 ' My music pleasd the king sae well 

Mair o my harping he wishd to hear ; 
An for the same he paid me well. 
And also for my gude grey mare.' 

26 Then he drew out a gude lang purse. 

Well stored wi gowd an white monie, 
An in a short time after this 

The Wanton Brown he lat them see. 

27 Sir Roger produced his ploughs o land, 

Sir Charles produced his thousand pounds, 
Then back to Henry, the English king. 
Restored the stately Wanton Brown. 



192. THE LOCHMABEN HARPER 



23 



A. a. "I have here given another copy of this 
Border Ballad, which I took from a MS. 
collection of Mr Henderson. It varies a 
little from the former [A], which I had 
from Dr Clapperton of Lochmaben." 

4*, 13*, 18*. The Wanton Brown is a mare : 
so b, and D, 9*. But the Brown is a stall- 
ion in C, 3*, 8*, 13*, and is so made to he 
in A o, 13*, 17': rightly, I should suppose. 

^\ say. 12*. to wanting. 
^ b. The third and fourth lines are repeated as 
burden. 

1^ heard ye of a silly harper. 1^. Livd long. 

1'. he did. 8^. he wanting. 

9'. lords gaed through. 9*. That they forgat. 

14*. ere it. 15^. gae. 16^. raise. 

17^ then (misprint) for those. 17*. gainst. 

218. shall. 
% c. No burden. 1*. heard ye na o. 

1^. How lang he lived. 1^ And how. 

1*. steal the Lord Warden's. 

2^. the haste. 2'. will neer gae weel. 

3^. hast. 3^. That can baith lance oer laigh. 

3'. Sae set thee on the gray mare's back. 

4, 5, wanting. 

&\ And even: he may drie. 

6*. And when he cam to Carlisle gate. 

6*. whae : but the Warden, he. 

7^. into my hall, thou. 7*. I wad. 

8^. The Warden lookd ower. 8^. said. 

8». silly blind. 8*. beside. 

9*. Then aye. 9^. the lordlings footed. 

9^ But an the. 

9*. The groom had nae mind o. 

10^. were fast. 

11* hied. 11*. gude wanting. 

12\ took a cowt halter. 12*^. he did. 

13*. He turned them loose at the castle gate. 

13^^. muir and moss. 13^ neer let : bait. 

13*. But kept him a-galloping hame to her foal. 

14*. The mare she was : foot. 

142. She didna. 

14*. A lang : before the day. 

15^ Rise up. 

16*. cloathes. 16^. keekit through at the. 

16'. then cried. 16*. braw brown. 

17*. haud thy tongue, thou silly wench. 

17**. morn's : in your ee. 17'. He 's. 

18. Now all this while, in merry Carlisle, 
The harper harped to hie and law, 



And the fiend thing dought they do but listen 
him to, 
Untill that the day began to daw. 

19*. Behold the Wanton Brown was gane. 

19*. poor blind. 

20*. quo the cunning auld. 

202. And ever allace. 20«. I lost a. 

21, 22, alteration ofB 11, 12: 

Come cease thy allacing, thou silly blind harper, 
And again of thy harping let us hear ; 

And weel payd sail thy cowt-foal be. 
And thou sail have a far better mare. 

Then aye he harped, and aye he carped, 

Sae sweet were the harpings he let them hear ! 

He was paid for the foal he had never lost, 
And three times ower for the gude gray mare. 

B. 1^. in a Bell town : see 13*. 

5. The burden is here : Sing, Fadle fidle, etc. '^ 

C. " The following is an oral version of a ballad 

which appears in the first volume of the 
' Minstrelsy.' I have written it down from 
the recitation of a friend who learned it 
many years ago from her grandfather, a Mr 
John Macreddie, farmer. Little Laight 
parish of Inch, Wigtonshire. He died in 
1813, at the age of ninety-four, and is sup- 
posed to have acquired the song from tra- 
dition in his youth. On comparison, it will 
be found to differ in several respects from 
Sir Walter's version. 11 Hill Street, An- 
derston, Glasgow. W. G." 

D. 32, 42, 6*, 18*, oh. 10*, at, 16*, then, added by 

Mr Murray in pencil above the line, as if 

on reading over what he had written down. 

18*. Dr Mitchell gives : An waps. " The ower- 

word," he adds, " was something like the 

following : " 

Hey turn tidly 
Doodlem didly 
Hey turn tidly 
Doodley dan. 

B. 2^. The reading is perhaps pounds. 

7^^'. Absurdity could be avoided by exchan- 
ging grey mare and steed. 
24*. by for my. 



24 



193. THE DEATH OF PARCY REED 



193 
THE DEATH OF PARCY REED 



A. ' A song of Parcy Reed and the Three False Halls,' 
the late Robert White's papers. 

B. ' The Death of Parcy Reed,' Richardson's Border- 



er's Table Book, 1846, VII, 361; J. H. Dixon, An- 
cient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of 
England, p. 99, Percy Society, vol. xvii, 1846. 









^ 



Of B, which purports to have been taken 
down from an old woman's singing by James 
Telfer, Mr Robert White, from whom I 
received A, said in a letter to Mr J. H. 
Dixon : " Parcy Reed, as you suspect, is not 
genuine, for it bears marks of our friend's im- 
provements. I have a copy of the original 
somewhere, but may not be able to find it." 
And again, Telfer himself, " in a letter to the 
late Robert Storey, the Northumbrian poet," 
wrote, " I will send Mr Dixon the real verses, 
but it is but a droll of a ballad." (J. H. 
Dixon, in Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, 
I, 108, V, 620.) 

Comparison will show that almost the whole 
of A is preserved in B, and in fairly good form. 
B has also some stanzas not found in A which 
may be accepted as traditional. Telfer may 
have added a dozen of his own, and has re- 
touched others. 

Mr White, after remarking that there is 
no historical evidence to show when the event 
on which the ballad was founded occurred, in- 
forms us that almost every circumstance in the 
narrative has been transmitted to the present 
century by local tradition. 

" Percival, or Parcy, Reed," in the words of 
Mr White, " was proprietor of Troughend, 
an elevated tract of land lying on the west 
side and nearly in the centre of Redesdale, 
Northumberland. The remains of the old 
tower may still be seen, a little to the west of 
the present mansion, commanding a beautiful 
and most extensive view of nearly the whole 
valley. Here he resided, and being a keen 
hunter and brave soldier, he possessed much 



influence, and was appointed warden or keeper 
of the district. His office was to suppress 
and order the apprehension of thieves and 
other breakers of the law ; in the execution of 
which he incurred the displeasure of a family 
of brothers of the name of Hall, who were 
owners of Girsonsfield, a farm about two 
miles east from Troughend. He also drew 
upon himself the hostility of a band of moss- 
troopers. Crosier by name, some of whom he 
had been successful in bringing to justice. 
The former were, however, artful enough to 
conceal their resentment, and under the ap- 
pearance of friendship calmly awaited an 
opportunity to be avenged. Some time after- 
wards, they solicited his attendance on a hunt- 
ing expedition to the head of Redesdale, and 
unfortunately he agreed to accompany them. 
His wife had some strange dreams anent his 
safety on the night before his departure, and 
at breakfast, on the following morning, the 
loaf of bread from which he was supplied 
chanced to be turned with the bottom up- 
wards, an omen which is still accounted most 
unfavorable all over the north of England. 
Considering these presages undeserving of no- 
tice. Reed set out in company with the Halls, 
and, after enjoying a good day's sport, the 
party withdrew to a solitary hut in Bating- 
hope, a lonely glen stretching westward from 
the Whitelee, whose little stream forms one 
of the chief sources of Reedwater. The whole 
of this arrangement had been previously 
planned by the Halls and Crosiers, and when 
the latter came down, late in the evening, to ex- 
ecute their purpose of vengeance, they found 



193. THE DEATH OF PARCY REED 



25 



Parcy Reed altogether a defenceless man. 
His companions not only deserted him, but 
had previously driven his sword so firmly in 
its scabbard that it could not be drawn, and 
had also moistened the powder with which 
the very long gun he carried with him was 
charged, so as to render both useless when he 
came to rely upon them for protection. Ac- 
cordingly the Crosiers instantly put him to 
death ; and so far did they carry out their 
sanguinary measures, even against his lifeless 
body, that tradition says the fragments thereof 
had to be collected together and conveyed in 
pillow-slips home to Troughend. Public in- 
dignation was speedily aroused against the 
murderers ; the very name of Crosier was ab- 
horred throughout Redesdale, and the abettors 
were both driven from their residence and des- 
ignated as the fause-hearted Ha's, an appel- 
lation which yet remains in force against 



them." (Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, 
VII, 361.) 

The farm of Girsonsfield, according to the 
ballad, A 3, 18, belonged to the Halls. But 
that place has been the property of others, 
says Mr White, " ever since the reign of Eliz- 
abeth ; " whence he concludes that the story 
is not to be dated later than the sixteenth cen- 
tury. 

Parcy Reed is famed to have had a favorite 
dog named Keeldar, and, though a "peerless 
archer," to have killed him by an unlucky 
shot while hunting. Sir Walter Scott has 
celebrated this mishap and its consequence in 
'The Death of Keeldar' (Table Book, as 
above, p. 240) ; and he alludes to the treach- 
erous murder of Reed (with which he became 
acquainted through Robert Roxby's ' Lay of 
the Reedwater Minstrel,' 1809) in Rokeby, 
written in 1812, Canto I, xx. 






The late Robert White's papers ; " Woodburn, December 
1, 1829, Thomas Hedley, Bridge End, Corsonside Parish." 

1 The Liddesdale Crosiers hae ridden a race, 

And they had far better staid at hame, 
For they have lost a gallant gay, 

Young Whinton Crosier it was his name. 

2 For Parcy Reed he has him taen, 

And he 's delivered him to law, 
But auld Crosier has made answer 

That he '11 gar the house of the Trough- 
end fa. 

3 So as it happened on a day 

That Parcy Reed is a hunting gane, 
And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield 
They all along with him are gane. 

4 They hunted up and they hunted down, 

They hunted all Reedwater round, 
Till weariness has on him seized ; 

At the Batinghope he 's fallen asleep. 

6 O some they stole his powder-horn, 

And some put water in his lang gun : 

VOL. IV. 4 



* O waken, waken, Parcy Reed ! 

For we do doubt thou sleeps too sound. 

6 ' waken, waken, Parcy Reed ! 

For we do doubt thou sleeps too long ; 
For yonder 's the five Crosiers coming, 
They 're coming by the Hingin Stane. 

7 ' If they he five men, we are four, 

If ye will all stand true to me ; 
Now every one of you may take one, 
And two of them ye may leave to me.* 

8 ' We will not stay, nor we dare not stay, 

O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee ; 
For thou wilt find, Parcy Reed, 
That they will slay both us and thee.' 

9 ' O stay, O stay, O Tommy Hall, 

O stay, man, and fight with me ! 
If we see the Troughend again, 

My good black mare I vnii give thee.' 

10 * I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, 
Parcy Reed, to fight for thee ; 
For thou wilt find, Parcy Reed, 
That they will slay both me and thee.' 



26 



193. THE DEATH OF PARCY REED 



11 * stay, O stay, O Johnnie Hall, 

O stay, O man, and fight for me I 
If I see the Troughend again, 

Five yoke of oxen I will give thee.* 

12 * I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, 

O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee ; 
For thou wilt find, Parcy Reed, 
That they will slay both me and thee.' 

13 ' O stay, O stay, O Willie Hall, 

O stay, man, and fight for me ! 
If we see the Troughend again. 

The half of my land I will give thee.' 

14 * I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, 

O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee ; 
For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, 
That they will slay both me and thee.' 



V 









J^}>' 






>>- 

Richardsons' Borderers' Table Book, Vn, 361, 1846; 
" taken down by James Telfer, of Saughtree, Liddesdale, 
from the chanting of an old woman named Eittj Hall, a na- 
tive of Northumberland." 

1 God send the land deliverance 

Frae every reaving, riding Scot ; 
We '11 sune hae neither cow nor ewe, 
We '11 sune hae neither staig nor stot. 

2 The outlaws come frae Liddesdale, 

They herry Redesdale far and near ; 
The rich man's gelding it maun gang. 
They canna pass the puir man's mear. 

3 Sure it were weel, had ilka thief 

Around his neck a halter Strang ; 
And curses heavy may they light 
On traitors vile oursels amang. 



^r^ 

^ 



15 * Now foul fa ye, ye traitors all. 

That ever ye should in England won ! 
You have left me in a fair field standin. 
And in my hand an uncharged gun. 

16 * O fare thee well, my wedded wife! 

fare you well, my children five ! 
And fare thee well, my daughter Jane, 

That I love best that 's born alive ! 

17 * O fare thee well, my brother Tom ! 

And fare you well his children five ! 
If you had been with me this day, 

1 surely had been man alive. 

18 * Farewell all friends ! as for my foes, 

To distant lands may they be tane, 
And the three false HaUs of Girsonsfield, 
They '11 never be trusted nor trowed again.' 



m 



i> 



^- 



•lA 



e 



4 Now Parcy Reed has Crosier taen. 
He has delivered him to the law ; 
But Crosier says he '11 do waur than that. 
He '11 make the tower o Troughend fa. 

{5j And Crosier says he will do waur. 
He will do waur if waur can be ; 
He '11 make the bairns a' fatherless. 
And then, the land it may lie lee. 



10 



11 



* To the hunting, ho ! ' cried Parcy Reed, 
' The morning sun is on the dew ; 

The cauler breeze frae o£E the fells 
Will lead the dogs to the quarry true. 

' To the hunting, ho ! ' cried Parcy Reed, 
And to the hxmting he has gane ; 

And the three fause Ha's o Girsonsfield 
Alang wi him he has them taen. 

They hunted high, they hunted low. 
By heathery hill and birken shaw ; 

They raised a buck on Rooken Edge, 
And blew the mort at fair Ealylawe. 

They hunted high, they hunted low. 
They made the echoes ring amain ; 

With music sweet o horn and hound. 
They merry made fair Redesdale glen. 

They hunted high, they hunted low. 
They hunted up, they hunted down, 

Until the day was past the prime, 
And it grew late in the afternoon. 

They hunted high in Batinghope, 
When as the sun was sinking low ; 

Says Parcy then, Ca off the dogs, 

We '11 bait our steeds and homeward go. 



193. THE DEATH OP PARCY REED 



27 



12 They lighted high in Batinghope, 

Atween the brown and benty ground ; 
They had but rested a little while 
Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound. 

13 There 's nane may lean on a rotten stafE, 

But him that risks to get a fa ; 
There 's nane may in a traitor trust, 
And traitors black were every Ha. 

/l4 They 've stown the bridle off his steed, 

And they 've put water in his lang gun ; 
They 've fixed his sword within the sheath 
That out again it winna come. 

/15j * Awaken ye, waken ye, Parcy Reed, 
Or by your enemies be taen ; 
For yonder are the five Crosiers 
A-coming owre the Hingin-stane.' 

Q6.3* If they be five, and we be four, 
Sae that ye stand alang wi me. 

Then every man ye will take one, 
And only leave but two to me : 

We will them meet as brave men ought, 
And make them either fight or flee.' 

17 * We mayna stand, we canna stand. 
We daurna stand alang wi thee ; 
The Crosiers baud thee at a feud, 

And they wad kill baith thee and we.' 



18/ O turn thee, turn thee, Johnie Ha, 
O turn thee, man, and fight wi me ; 

When ye come to Troughend again. 
My gude black naig I will gie thee ; 

He cost full twenty pound o gowd, 
Atween my brother John and me.' 



Wj * I mayna turn, I canna turn, 

I daurna turn and fight wi thee ; 
The Crosiers baud thee at a feud. 

And they wad kill baith thee and me * 

(20) * O turn thee, turn thee, Willie Ha, 

turn thee, man, and fight wi me ; 
When ye come to Troughend again, 

A yoke o owsen I '11 gie thee.* 

{2u ' I mayna turn, I canna turn, 

1 daurna turn and fight wi thee ; 
The Crosiers baud thee at a feud. 

And they wad kill baith thee and me.' 



(22/' O turn thee, turn thee, Tommy Ha, 

turn now, man, and fight wi me ; 
If ever we come to Troughend again, 

My daughter Jean I '11 gie to thee.' 

(23j * I mayna turn, 1 canna turn, 

1 daurna turn and fight wi thee ; 
The Crosiers baud thee at a fead, 

And they wad kill baith thee and me.' 

24 * O shame upon ye, traitors a' ! 

I wish your hames ye may never see ; 
Ye 've stown the bridle off my naig. 
And I can neither fight nor flee. 

^25]* Ye 've stown the bridle off my naig. 

And ye 've put water i my lang gun ; 
Ye 've fixed my sword within the sheath 
That out again it winna come.' 

26 He had but time to cross himsel, 

A prayer he hadna time to say, 
Till round him came the Crosiers keen, 
All riding graithed and in array. 

27 ' Weel met, weel met, now, Parcy Reed, 

Thou art the very man we sought ; 

Owre lang hae we been in your debt, 

Now will we pay you as we ought. 

28 * We '11 pay thee at the nearest tree, 

Where we shall hang thee like a hound ; ' 
Brave Parcy raisd his fankit sword. 
And f elld the foremost to the ground. 

29 Alake, and wae for Parcy Reed, 

Alake, he was an unarmed man ; 
Four weapons pierced him all at once. 
As they assailed him there and than. 

30 They fell upon him all at once, 

They mangled him most cruellie ; 
The slightest wound might caused his deid, 

And they hae gien him thirty-three ; 
They backet off his hands and feet, 

And left him lying on the lee. 

31 * Now, Parcy Reed, we 've paid our debt, 

Ye canna weel dispute the tale,' 

The Crosiers said, and off they rade ; 

They rade the airt o Liddesdale. 



28 



194. THE LAIRD OF WARISTON 



32 It was the hour o gloaming gray, 

When herds come in f rae f auld and pen ; 
A herd he saw a huntsman lie, 

Says he, Can this be Laird Troughen ? 

/33) * There 's some will ca me Parcy Reed, 
— And some will ca me Laird Troughen ; 
It 's little matter what they ca me. 
My faes hae made me iU to ken. 

34 ' There 's some will ca me Parcy Reed, 

And speak my praise in tower and town ; 
It 's little matter what they do now. 
My life-blood rudds the heather brown. 

35 ' There 's some wiU ca me Parcy Reed, 

And a' my virtues say and sing ; 
I would much rather have just now 
A draught o water frae the spring.' 

3C The herd flung aff his clouted shoon 
And to the nearest fountain ran ; 
He made his bonnet serve a cup, 

And wan the blessing o the dying man. 



37 * Now, honest herd, ye maun do mair, 

Ye maun do mair, as I you tell ; 
Ye maun bear tidings to Troughend, 
And bear likewise my last farewell. 

38 * A farewell to my wedded wife, 

A farewell to my brother John, 

Wha sits into the Troughend tower 

Wi heart as black as any stone. 

39 ' A farewell to my daughter Jean, 

A farewell to my young sons five ; 
Had they been at their father's hand, 
I had this night been man alive. 

40 * A farewell to my followers a', 

And a' my neighbours gude at need ; 
Bid them think how the treacherous Ha's 
Betrayed the life o Parcy Reed. 



g 



' The laird o Clennel bears my bow, 
The laird o Brandon bears my brand ; 

Wheneer they ride i the Border-side, 

They '11 mind the fate o the laird Trough- 
end.' 



A. lOS 12S 14S or for nor ; cf. S\ 

12^. " O Parcy Reed, etc. (same as stanza 8, 
save at end, thee and me)." The same 
abridgment and remark at lO'^, 14^, but the 



last words are there given as me and thee. 
Uniformity is to be expected. 
1&\ fare thou : cf 16», 17^ 



194 
THE LAIRD OF WARISTON 

A. * The Laird of Waristoun,' Jamieson's Popular Bal- C. ' Death of Lord Warriston,' Buchan's Ballads of the 
lads, I, 109. North of Scotland, I, 66. 

B. « Laird of Wariestoun,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 21 7 ; Kin- 
loch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 49. 



Bierell's Diary, under the date of July 
2, 1600, has the following entry : " John Kin- 
land [Kincaid] of Waristone murderit be hes 
awin wyff and servant-man, and the nurische 



being also upone the conspiracy. The said 
gentilwoman being apprehendit, scho was tane 
to the Girth Crosse upon the 5 day of Julii, 
and her held struck fra her bodie at the Can- 



194. THE LAIRD OF WARISTON 



29 



nagait fit; quha diet verie patiently. Her 
nurische was brunt at the same tyme, at 4 
houres in the morneing, the 5 of Julii." P. 49. 

Both husband and wife belonged to houses 
of some note. The wife, Jean Livingston, 
was a daughter of John Livingston of Duni- 
pace, " and related to many of the first fam- 
ilies in Scotland." 

Nothing seems to have been done to keep 
the murder from divulging. Warriston being 
only about a mile from Edinburgh, informa- 
tion very soon reached the authorities of jus- 
tice, and those who were found in the house, 
the mistress, the nurse, and two female ser- 
vants, were arrested. The crime was com- 
mitted on Tuesday morning, not long after 
midnight. On Thursday such trial as there 
was took place, and it may have occupied 
three hours, probably less. At three o'clock 
on Saturday morning sentence was executed. 
This had been burning (i. e. after strangling), 
both for the principal and her accomplice, the 
nurse ; but for the well-born woman, no doubt 
through the influence of her kindred, it was 
commuted to beheading. The servant-man 
who did the handiwork fled, but the penalty 
for undue devotion to his former master's 
daughter overtook him within four years. He 
was broken on a cart-wheel with a plough- 
coulter. 

The judicial records in the case of Jean 
Livingston are lost, but the process of the 
murder and the provocation are known from a 
register of the trial of Robert Weir, the actual 
perpetrator, and partly also from Jean Living- 
ston's own relation. Jean Livingston, having 
conceived a deadly hatred and malice against 
her husband, John Kincaid, "for the alleged 
biting of her in the arm and striking her divers 
times," sent word by her nurse, Janet Murdo, 
to Robert Weir, formerly servant to her father, 
to come to Wariston to speak with her con- 
cerning the murdering of him. The nurse, 
who, we may safely suppose, had been the 
witness of Kincaid's brutal behavior, was no 
unwilling agent. " She helped me too well 
in mine evil purpose," says her mistress ; " for 
when I told her what I was minded to do, she 
consented to the doing of it, and . . . when I 



sent her to seek the man who would do it, she 
said, I shall go and seek him, and if I get him 
not, I shall seek another ; and if I get none, I 
shall do it myself." This the nurse confessed. 
The other two women knew nothing of the 
deed before it was done ; " and that which they 
knew," says the mistress again, " they durst 
not tell for fear, for I had compelled them to 
dissemble." Robert Weir, having given con- 
sent, was put in a cellar, where he stayed till 
midnight, about which time he came up and 
went to Kincaid's chamber. Kincaid, who 
had waked with the " din," and was leaning 
over the side of his bed, was knocked to the 
floor by a blow in the neck, kicked in the 
belly, and then throttled. " As soon as that 
man gripped him and began his evil turn," 
says the wife, " so soon as my husband cried 
so fearfully, I leapt outover my bed and went 
to the hall, where I sat all the time till that 
unhappy man came to me and reported that 
mine husband was dead." She desired Weir, 
she says, to take her away with him, for 
she feared trial, albeit flesh and blood made 
her think that her father's interest at court 
would have saved her (this may have been an 
after-thought). But Weir refused, saying, You 
shall tarry still, and if this matter come not 
to light, you shall say he died in the gallery, 
and I shall return to my master's service. 
But if it be known, I shall fly and take the 
crime on me, and none dare pursue you. 

A benevolent minister, who visited Jean 
Livingston in prison about ten o'clock on 
Thursday, the third day after the murder, 
found her "raging in a senseless fury, disdain- 
fully taunting every word of grace that was 
spoken to her, impatiently tearing her hair, 
sometimes running up and down the house 
like one possessed, sometimes throwing her- 
self on the bed and sprawling, refusing all 
comfort by word, and, when the book of God 
was brought to her, flinging it upon the walls, 
twice or thrice, most unreverently." His 
warnings of wrath to come and his exhorta- 
tions to seek mercy through repentance were 
treated as "trittle, trattle," and she stub- 
bornly refused to pray for herself, or to take 
part in his prayer, or to say so much as God 



30 



194. THE LAIRD OF WARISTON 



help me. He told her that she was promis- 
ing herself impunity, but within a few hours, 
when she should have the sentence of death 
pronounced against her, the pride of her heart 
would be broken. The trial and sentence 
followed hard upon this, and when the minis- 
ter returned, some time in the afternoon, he 
found a visible and apparent grace beginning 
in her. He remained with her till after mid- 
night, and when he left her, Jean Livingston 
could say that she felt in her heart a free re- 
mission of all her sins. This worthy man 
came to the prison again early the next morn- 
ing, and found God's grace wonderfully aug- 
mented in her. She was full of joy and cour- 
age. Those that stood about her said they 
never saw her so amiable or well-favored. 
The glory of God was shining both without 
and within her. 

To follow no further this astounding chap- 
ter in psychology, this bairn of twenty-one 
years,* with whom the Lord began to work in 
mercy upon Thursday at two hours in the 
afternoon, gave up her soul to him in peace 
upon the Saturday following at three hours in 
the morning. " When she came to the scaffold 
and was carried up upon it, she looked up to 
the Maiden with two longsome looks," but 
her serenity was not disturbed. She made a 
confession at each of the four corners of the 
scaffold, took " good night " cheerfully of all 
her friends, kissing them, and then, "as a 
constant saint of God, humbled herself on her 
knees and offered her neck to the axe." f 

It may be gathered from Weir's indictment 
that it was the ill treatment which she had re- 

* So the Memorial referred to in the next note, p. vi. 
Sharpe, in his preface, p. iv, says nineteen. B 9 is of course 
quite wrong as to the duration of her married life. 

t A Memorial of the Conversion of Jean Livingston, 
Lady Waristoun, etc., printed from the manuscript by C. K. 
Sharpe, Edinburgh, 1827. An Epitaphium Janetse Living- 
stoune is subjoined. The record of Weir's trial is given in 
the preface : see also Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, II, 445 ff. 
The Memorial is powerfully interesting, but, in Sharpe's 
words, would have been a mischievous present to the world, 
whatever one may think of the change of heart in this " dear 
saint of God," as she is therein repeatedly called. It may 
be noted that Jean Livingston, when it was supposed her 
last hour had come, called for a drink and drank to all her 
friends. Memorial, p. xiii : cf. " Mary Hamilton." 

J Rolling in a spiked barrel is well known as a popular 
form of punishment. For some examples later than Reg- 
ulus, see Grundtvig, II, 174, No 58 ; Grundtvig, II, 547, 
No 101, A-D, Prior, I, 349, Afzelius, No 3 (two copies). 



ceived from her husband that incited the wife 
to the murder. Two of the ballads, A 4, B 2, 
make the same representation. An epitaph 
on Jean Livingston gives us to understand that 
both parties were very young, and were mar- 
ried aganst their will (in vita invito subjuncta 
puella puello) : whence perpetual disagree- 
ments (nihil in thalamo nisi rixse, jurgia, 
lites). 

In A, B, the strangling is done by the 
nurse and her lady, Man's Enemy personally 
knotting the tether in A ; in C it is done by 
the nurse alone. In B 8 the great Dunipace, 
in his anger at hearing what his daughter has 
done, cries out for her to be put in a barrel of 
pikes I and rolled down some lea. In C the 
father, mother, and brother come to see Jean, 
and would fain give everything to borrow her. 
This is a by much too flattering account of 
the behavior of her relatives, who were princi- 
pally anxious to have her got out of the 
world with as little dclat as might be. None 
of them came near her in prison, though 
Wariston's brother did. C makes Wariston's 
mortal offence not the throwing a plate at her 
face (A) or striking her on the mouth (B), 
but the taxing her with a bairn by another 
man. § The unfriendly relations of the pair 
must have been notorious. In the prison the 
wife " purged herself very sincerely from many 
scandalous things she had been bruited with. 
Not that she would excuse herself that she 
was a sinner in the highest rank, but that 
she might clear herself from these false re- 
ports that her house was charged with : " 
Memorial, p. xxvii. 

Wolff, Halle der Volker, II, 161 ; Grundtvig, III, 700, No 
178, A-D, Prior, II, 160, Arwidsson, II, 62, No 80, and 
Grundtvig, ib. p. 698 ; Hoffmann, Niederlandische Volks- 
lieder, 1856, p. 19, No 3, Le Jeune, p. 87, No 3, Prior, II, 238 ; 
Pidal, Asturian Romances, p. 163, No 36; Grimms, K. -u. 
H. marchen, Nos 13, 89, 135; Asbjernsen og Moe, p, 464. 
Sharpe, in his preface to the Memorial, p. v, gives B 8 in 
this form, " partly from tradition : " 

Up spak the laird o Dunypace, 
Sat at the king's right knee ; 
' Gar nail her in a tar-barrel 
And hurl her in the sea.' 
§ The day before the execution Lady Wariston desired to 
see her infant son. The minister feared lest the sight of 
him should make her wae to leave him, but she assured that 
the contrair should be seen, took the child in her arms, 
kissed him, blessed him, and recommended him to the Lord's 
care, and sent him away again without taking of any sor- 
row. Memorial, p. ix. 



194. THE LAIRD OF WAKISTON 



31 



Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 109, as taken down by Sir 
Walter Scott from the recitation of his mother. 

1 Down by yon garden green 

Sae merrily as she gaes ; 
She has twa weel-made feet, 
And she trips upon her taes. 

2 She has twa weel-made feet, 

Far better is her hand ; 
She 's as jimp in the middle 
As ony willow-wand. 

3 * Gif ye will do my bidding, 

At my bidding for to be. 
It 's I will make you lady 
Of a' the lands you see.' 



4 He spak a word in jest ; 

Her answer wasna good ; 
He threw a plate at her face, 
Made it a' gush out o blood. 

5 She wasna frae her chamber 

A step but barely three, 
When up and at her richt hand 
There stood Man's Enemy. 



6 * Gif ye will do my bidding, 

At my bidding for to be, 
I '11 learn you a wile 
Avenged for to be.' 

7 The Foul Thief knotted the tether, 

She lifted his head on hie. 
The nourice drew the knot 
That gard lord Waristoun die. 

8 Then word is gane to Leith, 

Also to Edinburgh town. 
That the lady had killd the laird, 
The laird o Waristoun. 



9 * Tak aff , tak aff my hood, 
But lat my petticoat be ; 
Put my mantle oer my head, 
For the fire I downa see. 

10 ' Now, a' ye gentle maids, 

Tak warning now by me, 
And never marry ane 
But wha pleases your ee. 

11 * For he married me for love. 

But I married him for fee ; 
And sae brak out the feud 
That gard my dearie die.' 



B 



Kinloch MSS, VII, 217 ; from the recitation of Jenny 

Watson. 

1 It was at dinner as they sat. 

And whan they drank the wine. 
How happy war the laird and lady 
Of bonnie Wariston ! 

2 The lady spak but ae word, 

The matter to conclude ; 
The laird strak her on the mouth, 
Till she spat out o blude. 

3 She did not know the way 

Her mind to satisfy. 
Till evil cam into [her] head 
All by the Enemy. 



4 * At evening when ye sit. 

And whan ye drink the wine. 
See that ye fill the glass weill up 
To the laird o Wariston.' 

5 So at table whan they sat, 

And whan they drank the wine. 
She made the glass aft gae round 
To the laird o Wariston. 

6 The nurice she knet the knot. 

And O she knet it sicker ! 
The lady did gie it a twig. 
Till it began to wicker. 



32 



194. THE LAIRD OF WARISTON 



7 But word 's gane doun to Leith, 

And up to Embro toun, 
That the lady she has slain the laird, 
The laird o Waristoun. 

8 "Word has gane to her father, the grit Dunipace, 

And an angry man was he ; 

Cries, Gar mak a barrel o pikes, 

And row her down some lea ! 

9 She said, Wae be to ye, Wariston, 

I wish ye may sink for sin ! 



For I have been your wife 

These nine years, running ten ; 

And I never loved ye sae well 
As now whan ye 're lying slain. 

10 ' But tak aff this gowd brocade, 
And let my petticoat stay. 
And tie a handkerchief round my face, 
That the people may not see.' 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 56. 

1 * My mother was an ill woman. 

In fifteen years she married me ; 
I hadna wit to guide a man, 
Alas ! ill counsel guided me. 

2 ' O Warriston, O Warriston, 

I wish that ye may sink for sin ! 
I was but bare fifteen years auld. 

Whan first I enterd your yates within. 

3 * I hadna been a month married. 

Till my gude lord went to the sea ; 
I bare a bairn ere he came hame. 
And set it on the nourice knee. 

4 ' But it fell ance upon a day. 

That my gude lord returnd from sea; 
Then I did dress in the best array. 
As blythe as ony bird on tree. 

6 ' I took my young son in my arms. 
Likewise my nourice me forebye. 
And I went down to yon shore-side, 
My gude lord's vessel I might spy. 

6 * My lord he stood upon the deck, 

I wyte he haild me courteouslie : 
Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay, 
Whae 's aught that bairn on your knee ? ' 

7 She turnd her right and round about, 

Says, ' Why take ye sic dreads o me ? 
Alas ! I was too young married. 
To love another man but thee.' 



8 * Now hold your tongue, my lady gay, 

Nae mair falsehoods ye '11 tell to me ; 
This bonny bairn is not mine. 

You 've loved another while I was on sea.' 

9 In discontent then hame she went. 

And aye the tear did blin her ee ; 
Says, Of this wretch I '11 be revenged 
For these harsh words he 's said to me. 

10 She 's counselld wi her father's steward 

What way she coud revenged be ; 
Bad was the counsel then he gave. 
It was to gar her gude lord dee. 

11 The nourice took the deed in hand, 

I wat she was well paid her fee ; 
She kiest the knot, and the loop she ran, 
Which soon did gar this young lord dee. 

12 His brother lay in a room hard by, 

Alas ! that night he slept too soun ; 
But then he wakend wi a cry, 

' I fear my brother 's putten down. 

13 ' get me coal and candle light, 

And get me some gude companie ; ' 
But before the light was brought, 
Warriston he was gart dee. 

14 They 've taen the lady and f ause nourice. 

In prison strong they hae them boun ; 
The nourice she was hard o heart. 
But the bonny lady fell in swoon. 

15 In it came her brother dear. 

And aye a sorry man was he : 



194. THE LAIBD OF WARISTON 



33 



* I woud gie a' the lands I heir, 

bonny Jean, to borrow thee.' 

16 * O borrow me, brother, borrow me ? 

borrowd shall I never be ; 
For I gart kiU my ain gude lord, 

And life is nae pleasure to me.' 

17 In it came her mother dear, • 

1 wyte a sorry woman was she : 

* I woud gie my white monie and gowd, 

O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.' 

18 ' Borrow me, mother, borrow me ? 

borrowd shall I never be ; 
For I gart kill my ain gude lord. 

And life 's now nae pleasure to me.' 

19 Then in it came her father dear, 

1 wyte a sorry man was he ; 
Says, ' Ohon, alas ! my bonny Jean, 

If I had you at hame wi me ! 

20 * Seven daughters I hae left at hame, 

As fair women as fair can be ; 
But I would gie them ane by ane, 
O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.' 

21 ' O borrow me, father, borrow me ? 

O borrowd shall I never be ; 
I that is worthy o the death. 
It is but right that I shoud dee.' 

22 Then out it speaks the king himsell, 

And aye as he steps in the fleer ; 



Says, ' I grant you your life, lady, 
Because you are of tender year.' 

23 * A boon, a boon, my liege the king, 

The boon I ask, ye 'U grant to me ; * 

* Ask on, ask on, my bonny Jean, 

Whateer ye ask it 's granted be.* 

24 * Cause take me out at night, at night, 

Lat not the sun upon me shine. 
And take me to yon heading-hill, 
Strike afB this dowie head o mine. 

25 * Ye '11 take me out at night, at night, 

When there are nane to gaze and see, 
And hae me to yon heading-hill. 
And ye '11 gar head me speedilie.' 

26 They 've taen her out at nine at night, 

Loot not the sun upon her shine. 
And had her to yon heading-hill. 
And headed her baith neat and fine. 

27 Then out it speaks the king himsell, 

I wyte a sorry man was he : 

* I 've travelld east, I 've travelld west, 

And sailed far beyond the sea, 
But I never saw a woman's face 
I was sae sorry to see dee. 

28 ' But Warriston was sair to blame, 

For slighting o his lady so ; 
He had the wyte o his ain death, 
And bonny lady's overthrow.' 



4. The MS indicates that this is the nurse's 

speech. 
6^ whan struck out, as written over. 
8. has struck out, 's substituted. 
10^. stay struck out, be substituted. 
10^ Originally handkerchief; hand struck 

out. 



Kinloch has made several changes in print- 
ing : 

7\ has gane. 8*. Fy ! gar. 8*. some brae. 

9^. gud wife. We gives as in 5* ; be in 10' ; 
handkerchief tw 10*. 

6*. Whase. Perhaps, Wha 's rather than 
Whae 's. 



34 



195. LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



195 
LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



A. 'Lord Maxwell's Last Goodnight,' communicated 
to Percy by G. Paton, 1778. 



B. ' Lord Maxwell's Goodnight,' Glenriddell MSS, XI, 
18, 1791, Scott's Minstrelsy, 1, 194, 1802; II, 133, 
1833. 



? 



First published in the Minstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border, "from a copy in Glenriddell's 
MS., with some slight variations from tra- 
dition." I understand this to mean, not 
that the variations were derived from tradi- 
tion, but that the text of the Minstrelsy de- 
parts somewhat from that of the manuscript. 

A and B agree entirely as to matter. The 
order of the stanzas, not being governed by 
an explicit story, might be expected to vary 
with every reciter. 

In the year 1585, John, Lord Maxwell, hav- 
ing incurred the enmity of the king's favorite, 
the Earl of Arran, was denounced rebel, on 
such charges as were always at hand, and a 
commission was given to the Laird of John- 
stone to pursue and take him. A hired force, 
by the aid of which this was expected to be 
done, was badly routed by the Maxwells in 
a sharp fight. Johnstone made a raid on 
Maxwell's lands ; Maxwell burnt Johnstone's 
house. Finally, in one of their skirmishes, 
Johnstone was captured: "the grief of this 
overthrow gave Johnstone, shortly after he 
was liberated, his death." 

After some years of feud, the two chiefs, " by 
the industry of certain wise gentlemen of the 
Johnstones," surprised all Scotland by mak- 
ing a treaty of peace. On April 1, 1592, they 
entered into a bond to forget and forgive all 
rancor and malice of the past, and to live in 
amity, themselves and their friends, in all 
time coming. A little more than a year after, 
a party of Johnstones, relying, no doubt, on the 
forbearance of their new ally, then warden of 
the West Marches, " rode a stealing " in the 
lands of Lord Sanquhar and of the knights of 



Drumlanrig, Lag, and Closeburn, carried ofE a 
large booty, and killed eighteen men who en- 
deavored to retrieve their property. (See No 
184, ' The Lads of Wamphray.') The injured 
gentlemen made complaint to Maxwell as 
warden, and also procured a commission di- 
recting him to proceed against the Johnstones. 
Maxwell was in an awkward plight. To in- 
duce him to take action, several of the suffer- 
ers engaged to enter into a bond of manrent, 
or homage, to Maxwell, by which they should 
be obliged to service and he to protection. 
" Maxwell, thinking this to be a good occasion 
for bringing all Nithsdale to depend upon him, 
embraced the offer." But this bond, through 
negligence, came to the hands of Johnstone, 
who, seeing what turn matters would take, 
made a league with Scotts, Eliots, and others, 
and in a battle at Dryfe Sands, by superior 
strategy, defeated Maxwell, though the war- 
den had much larger numbers. This was in /^ 
December, 1593. " The Lord Maxwell, a tall 
man and heavy in armor, was in the chase 
overtaken and stricken from his horse. The 
report went that he called to Johnstone and 
desired to be taken as he had sometime taken 
his father, but was unmercifully used, and 
the hand that he reached forth cut off. But 
of this," says Spotiswood, " I can affirm noth- 
ing. There always the Lord Maxwell fell, 
having received many wounds." Drumlan- 
rig, Closeburn, and other of the Nithsdale 
lairds of Maxwell's faction, barely escaped 
with their lives. 

Sir James Johnstone soon made his peace 
with the king, whose warden had been slain 
while acting under royal authority. The heir 



195. LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



35 



of the slain warden, John, the ninth Lord 
Maxwell, is said to have been only eight years 
old at the time of his father's death.* If this 
was so, he became very early of age for all 
purposes of offence. The two clans kept up 
a bloody and destructive private war. Both 
chiefs were imprisoned and proclaimed rebel or 
traitor; Maxwell twice, first in 1601, as fa- 
voring popery, and again in 1607, for his ex- 
travagant turbulence; and in each case he 
made his own escape, the second time by the 
use of violence. At length, influenced per- 
haps by a conviction that his defiance of the 
law had gone too far for his safety, Maxwell 
seemed to be seriously disposed to reconcile 
himself with his inveterate enemy.f Sir James 
Johnstone, as it happened, had already asked 
Sir Robert Maxwell, who was his brother-in- 
law and cousin to Lord Maxwell, to speak to 
his kinsman with that view. Sir Robert had 
no wish to meddle, for his cousin, he said, was 
a dangerous man to have to do with. Lord 
John, however, spontaneously sent for Sir 
Robert, and said to him, You see my estate 
and the danger I stand in. I would crave 
your counsel as a man that tenders my weal. 
The result of much conference and writing 
(in which Sir Robert Maxwell, evidently feel- 
ing imperfect confidence in his cousin, acted 
with great caution) was that Lord Maxwell 
proposed a tryst with Sir James Johnstone, 
each of them to be accompanied by one per- 
son only, and no others to be present except 
Sir Robert, and faithfully promised, with his 
hands between Sir Robert's hands, that nei- 
ther he nor the man he should bring with him 
should do any wrong, " whether they agreed 
or not." Johnstone accepted the terms and 

* Fraser, The Book of Carlaverock, I, 300. "John, 
ninth Lord Maxwell, was born about the year 1 586." He 
was married in 1601, and imprisoned for his papistical pro- 
pensity in the same year. Either the date is too late, or 
Maxwell was one of those avenging children who mature 
so very fast: see ' Jellon Grame,' II, 303, 513. 

t Some sort of "agreement" had been made in 1605, as 
we see by the "Summons" referred to further on, and 
Lord Maxwell mentions this agreement in a conversation 
with Sir Robert Maxwell. Pitcairn's Trials, III, 36, 44. 

{ In the indictment (" Summons, etc., against John, Lord 
Maxwell "), it is said that Johnstone was shot through the 
shoulder with two poisoned bullets. If there was evidence 
as to this aggravating circumstance, it has not been made 



made corresponding promises. The meeting 
came off the 6th of April, 1608. Johnstone 
brought Willie Johnstone with him, and Max- 
well Charlie Maxwell, a man that Sir Robert 
strongly disapproved, but his chief undertook 
to be answerable for him. Sir Robert required 
the same guaranty on the part of Johnstone 
for his follower, and these men were ordered to 
keep away from one another. The two princi- 
pals and their mediator between them rode off, 
with their backs to their men, and began their 
parley. Looking round. Sir Robert saw that 
Charlie Maxwell had left his appointed place 
and gone to Willie Johnstone, at whom, after 
some words between them, he fired a pistol. 
Sir Robert cried to Lord Maxwell, Fie, make 
not yourself a traitor and me both ! Lord 
Maxwell replied, I am blameless. Sir James 
Johnstone slipped away to see to his follower's 
safety. Lord Maxwell followed Sir James, 
shot him in the back, and rode off. J 

Lord Maxwell fled the country, but was 
tried in his absence and sentenced to death, 
with forfeiture of his estates. He came back 
to Scotland after four years, was basely be- 
trayed into the power of the government by 
a kinsman, and was beheaded at Edinburgh v^ 
May 21, 1613. § 

" Thus was finally ended," remarks Sir 
Walter Scott, " by a salutary example of se- 
verity, the ' foul debate ' betwixt the Max- 
wells and Johnstones, in the course of which 
each family lost two chieftains : one dying of 
a broken heart, one in the field of battle, one 
by assassination, and one by the sword of the 
executioner." 

A 1, 2, and passim. The very affectionate 
relations of Lord Maxwell and his ' lady and 

accessible. In his " Offers of Submission," etc., by which 
Lord Maxwell hoped to avoid the extreme penalty of the 
law, he makes oath on his salvation and damnation that the 
unhappy slaughter was nowise committed upon forethought 
felony or set purpose ; and on the scaffold, while declaring 
that he had justly deserved bis death and asking forgiveness 
of the Johnstone family, he protested that his act had been 
without dishonor or infamy ; meaning, of course, perfidy. 

§ Spotiswood's History, ed. 1655, pp. 338 f., 400 f., 504 f. ; 
Historie of King James the Sext, pp. 209 f., 297-99 : Moy- 
sie's Memoirs, p. 109 f. ; Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, III, 
31-40, 43-47, 51-53 ; Fraser, The Book of Carlaverock, 1873, 
pp 300 f., 314, 321 ; Taylor, The Great Historic Families 
of Scotland, 1887, II, 10, 14-25. 



36 



195. LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



only joy,' are a fiction of the ballad-maker. 
His wife was daughter of the first Marquis 
of Hamilton. Maxwell instituted a process 
of divorce against her, and she died while this 
was pending, before he fled the country in 
1608. By his treatment of his wife he made 
her brother, the second marquis, and the Ham- 
iltons generally, his enemies.* 

5, 6. Carlaverock castle had from far back 
belonged to the Maxwells, and is theirs still. 
They had a house, or castle, at Dumfries, and 
the custody of the " houses " of Lochmaben, 
Langholm, and Thrieve. 

9, 10. Douglas of Drumlanrig, Kirkpat- 
rick of Closeburn, and Grierson of Lag fled 
in the sauve qui pent of Dryfe Sands, and the 
partisans of Lord Maxwell, who there lost 
his life, would naturally describe them as de- 
serting their chief. They (or two of them) 
had entered into a " band " with Maxwell, as 
aforesaid. The ballad-maker seems to inti- 
mate that they were in a band with each other, 
or with somebody, to betray Maxwell. 

11, and B 1. ' Robin in the Orchet,' ' Rob- 
ert of Oarchyardtoan,' is properly Sir Robert 
Maxwell of Orchardton, Lord John's cousin, 
but it is evident, from the conjunction of mo- 
ther and sisters, that the person here intended 



is his brother Robert, to whom, some years 
after the execution and forfeiture of Lord 
John, the estates were restored. 

14. Maxwell's wife, as said above, was no 
longer living. The " offers " which he made, 
to save his life, contain a proposal that he 
should marry the slain Sir James Johnstone's 
daughter, without any dowry. 

" Goodnight " is to be taken loosely as a 
farewell. Other cases are ' John Armstrong's 
last Goodnight,' and the well-known beautiful 
fragment (?) of two stanzas called 'Arm- 
strong's Goodnight ; ' again, Essex's last Good- 
night, to the tune of The King's last Good- 
night, Chappell, Roxburghe Ballads, I, 570, 
and Popular Music, p. 174. The Earl of Derby 
sings a Goodnight (though the name is not 
used) in ' Flodden Field,' No 168, III, 356, 
stanzas 86-58. Justice Shallow sang those 
tunes that he heard the carmen whistle, and 
sware they were his Fancies, or his Good- 
nights: Second Part of Henry IV, III, 2. 
Lord Byron, in the preface to Childe Har- 
old's Pilgrimage, says " the good-night in the 
beginning of the first canto was suggested 
by Lord Maxwell's Goodnight in the Border 
Minstrelsy." 



Communicated to Percy hj G. Paton, Edinbnrgli, Decem- 
ber 4, 1778. 

t * f^ \ 1 ' Good lord of the land, will you stay thane 

jv * Vn" About my f aither's house, 

y ^t ^ And walk into these gardines green, 

*■ ^ &^ In my arms I '11 the embraice. 

l' > 

^ ' 2 ' Ten thousand times I '11 kiss thy face ; 

Make sport, and let 's be mery : ' 
' I thank you, lady, fore your kindness ; 

Trust me, I may not stay with the. 



3 * For I have kil'd the laird Johnston ; 

I vallow not the feed ; 
My wiked heart did still incline ; 
He was my faither's dead. 

4 * Both night and day I did proced, 

And a' on him revainged to be ; 
But now have I gotten what I long sowght, 
Trust me, I may not stay with the. 

6 ' Adue, Dumfriese, that proper place ! 
Fair well, Carlaurike faire ! 



* In a petition presented to the Privy Council by Rob- 
ert Maxwell in behalf of his brother, the 'sometime' Lord 
Maxwell, by his attorney, craves "forgiveness of his offence 
done to the Marquis of Hamilton [his wife's brother] and 
his friends." Pitcaim, III, 52. Whether this was penitence 



or policy, it shows that great offence had been taken. Some 
verses inserted by Scott in his edition of the ballad, in which 
his lady urges Maxwell to go with her to her brother's 
stately tower, where " Hamiltons and Douglas baith shall 
rise to succour thee," are quite misplaced. 



195. LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



87 



Adue the castle of the Trive, 
And all my buldings there ! 

6 ' Adue, Lochmaben gaits so faire, 

And the Langhna shank, where birks bobs 
bony ! 
Adue, my leady and only joy ! 

Trust me, I may not stay with the. 

7 ' Adue, fair Eskdale, up and doun, 

Wher my poor f rends do duell ! 
The bangisters will beat them doun, 
And wiU them sore compell. 

8 ' I '11 reveinge the cause mysell, 

Again when I come over the sea ; 
Adue, my leady and only joy ! 

Fore, trust me, I may not stay with the. 

9 ' Adue, Dumlanark ! f als was ay, 

And Closburn ! in a band ; 
The laird of the Lag from my faither fled 
When the Jhohnstones struck of his hand. 

10 ' They wer three brethren in a band ; 
I pray they may never be merry ; 
Adue, my leady and only joy ! 

Trust me, I may not stay with the. 



11 ' Adue, madam my mother dear, 

But and my sister[8] two ! 
Fair well, Robin in the Orchet ! 
Fore the my heart is wo. 

12 * Adue, the liUie, and fair well, rose, 

And the primros, spreads fair and bony ! 
Adue, my leady and only joy ! 

Fore, trust me, I may not stay with the.' 

13 He took out a good gold ring, 

Whei'e at hang sygnets three : 
* Take thou that, my own kind thing, 
And ay have mind of me. 

14 * Do not mary another lord 

Agan or I come over the sea ; 
Adue, my leady and only joy ! 

For, trust me, I may not stay with the.* 

15 The wind was fair, and the ship was clare, 

And the good lord went away ; 
The most part of his f rends was there, 
Giving him a fair convoy. 

16 They drank the wine, they did not spare, 

Presentting in that good lord's sight ; 
Now he is over the floods so gray ; 

Lord Maxwell has te'n his last good-night 



Glenriddell MSS, XI, 18. 1791. 

1 * Adiew, madam my mother dear. 

But and my sisters two ! 
Adiew, fair Robert of Oarchyardtoan ! 
For thee my heart is woe. 

2 * Adiew, the lilly and the rose. 

The primrose, sweet to see ! 

Adiew, my lady and only joy ! 

For I manna stay with thee. 

3 ' Tho I have killed the laird Johnston, 

What care I for his feed ? 

My noble mind dis still incline ; 

He was my father's dead. 

4 ' Both night and day I laboured oft 

Of him revenged to be, 



And now I 've got what I long sought ; 
But I manna stay with thee. 

5 ' Adiew, Drumlanrig ! false was ay. 

And Cloesburn ! in a band. 
Where the laird of Lagg fra my father fled 
When the Johnston struck off his hand. 

6 ' They were three brethren in a band ; 

Joy may they never see ! 
But now I 've got what I long sought, 
And I maunna stay with thee. 

7 * Adiew, Dumfries, my proper place. 

But and Carlaverock fair, 
Adiew, the castle of the Thrieve, 
And all my buildings there ! 

8 * Adiew, Lochmaben's gates so fair. 

The Langholm shank, where birks they be I 



38 



195. LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT 



Adiew, my lady and only joy ! 

And, trust me, I maunna stay witli thee. 

9 ' Adiew, fair Eskdale, up and down, 
Where my poor friends do dwell ! 
The bangisters will ding them down, 
And will them sore compel. 

10 * But I '11 revenge that feed mysell 

When I come ou'r the sea ; 
Adiew, my lady and only joy ! 
For I maunna stay with thee.' 

11 ' Lord of the land, will you go then 

Unto my father's place. 
And walk into their gardens green, 
And I will you embrace. 

12 ' Ten thousand times I '11 kiss your face, 

And sport, and make you merry ; ' 
* I thank thee, my lady, for thy kindness. 
But, trust me, I maunna stay with thee.' 



13 Then he took o£E a great gold ring. 

Where at hang signets three : 
' Hae, take thee that, my ain dear thing, 
And still hae mind of me. 

14 ' But if thow marry another lord 

Ere I come ou'r the sea — 
Adiew, my lady and only joy ! 
For I maunna stay with thee.' 

15 The wind was fair, the ship was close, 

That good lord went away, 
And most part of his friends were there, 
To give him a fair convay. 

16 They drank thair wine, they did not spare, 

Even in the good lord's sight ; 
Now he is oer the floods so gray, 

And Lord Maxwell has taen his good- 
night. 



A. 1*^. faither's place ? SoB. 

4^. And a' to be revainged on him. Cf. B. 
6*. Fair well the Lanrike faires. (?) 
9*. struet. (?) 

IS^''^. He took out a good gold ring [where it 
hang, partly erased.'] 

Where it hang signets three. 

B. Written in stanzas of eight lines. 

4}. labourod. 

The variations of the Minstrelsy, being edito- 
rial, do not require to be recorded, but some 
of them have a certain interest. 

W sisters three. 1*. My heart is wae for thee. 



3'. mind their wrath disdains. 
6*'*. Their treacherous art and cowardly heart 
Has twin'd my love and me. 

11 Lord of the land, that ladye said, 
O wad ye go wi me 
Unto my brother's stately tower, 
Where safest ye may be ! 

12^'^. There Hamiltons and Douglas baith 

Shall rise to succour thee. 
14^. His life is but a three days' lease. 
16\ was clear, as in A. 



196. THE FIRE OF FBENDRAUGHT 



39 



196 
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 

A. a. 'The Fire of Frendraught,' Motherwell's Min- C. 'The Fire of Frendraught,' from a note-book of Dr 
strelsy, p. 161, 1827. b. 'Burning of Frendraught,' Joseph Robertson's. 

Maidment's North Countrie Garland, p. 4, 1824. 

D. Eitson's Scotish Songs, II, 85, 1794. 

B. ' The Burning of Frendraught,' Kinloch MSS, V, 

399. E. Kinloch MSS, VI, 27, one stanza. 



A a was communicated to Motherwell by 
Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. (Corrections 
have here been adopted from Motherwell's Er- 
rata : see also the Musical Museum, 1853, IV, 
322*.) A b, says Motherwell, has the "dis- 
advantage of containing a very considerable 
number of slight verbal and literal inaccura- 
cies." The implication is, or should be, that 
these variations are of editorial origin. Some 
of the readings of b are in themselves better 
than those of a. b is repeated in Buchan's 
Gleanings, p. 165. The copy in Maidment's 
Scotish Ballads, 1868, 1, 267, is a with a read- 
ing or two from b, arbitrary alterations, and 
some misprints. 

Dr Joseph Robertson has, in one of his 
notebooks, " Adversaria," p. 63, the two fol- 
lowing stanzas, given him by a gentleman of 
Buchan as belonging to ' The Burning of 
Frendraught House." 

' Will ye play at the cards, Lord John ? 
Will ye drink at the wine ? 
Or will ye [gang] to a weel made bed, 
And sleep till it be time ? ' 

* I '11 no play at the cards, ladie, 
I '11 no drink at the wine ; 
But I '11 gang to a weel made bed. 
An sleep till it be time.' 

Undoubtedly these stanzas may have occurred 
in a version of this ballad, but they are a 
commonplace, and sometimes an intrusive 
one. See II, 109, ' Fair Janet,' P 4, 5 ; 154, 



* Young Hunting,' K 8, 9 ; 164, * Clerk Saun- 
ders,' P, 5, 6 ; 409, ' Willie o Douglas Dale,' 
B20. 

The modern, and extremely vapid, ballad 
of ' Frennet Hall ' appeared originally (I sup- 
pose) in Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, 1, 142, 
and was afterwards received into Ritson's 
Scotish Songs, II, 31, The Musical Museum, 
No 286, etc. 

James Crichton of Frendraught and Wil- 
liam Gordon of Rotbiemay (a neighboring 
estate *) had a fierce quarrel about fishing- 
rights pertaining to lands which Gordon had 
sold to Crichton. A legal decision was ren. 
dered in favor of Frendraught, who, how- 
ever, pursued his adversary with excessive 
vigor and procured him to be outlawed. 
After this, Rothiemay would hear to no 
terms of peace, and collected a party of loose 
fellows with the intent to waste Frend- 
raught's lands. Frendraught obtained a com- 
mission to arrest Rothiemay, and on the first 
day of the year 1630 set out to put this in 
force, accompanied, among others, by his un- 
cle (George Gordon) James Leslie, son of the 
laird of Pitcaple, and John Meldrum, who was 
married to young Leslie's aunt. Rothiemay, 
hearing of Frendraught's coming, rode out to 
meet him, and there was a fight, in which 
Rothiemay and George Gordon were mortally 

* Frendraught is in the parish of Forgue, Aberdeenshire, 
Rothiemay in Banfifshire ; they lie on opposite sides of the 
Deveron. 



\^ 



40 



196. THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 



wounded, and Meldrum badly. The feud 
waxed hot, and Frendraught's lands were in 
danger of being burned and ravaged by High- 
landers, with whom John Gordon of Rothie- 
may, son to the slain laird, had combined for 
the purpose. But in the end, by the strenu- 
ous exertions of the Marquis of Huntly and 
others, a settlement was effected. The laird 
of Rothiemay and the children of George Gor- 
don were "to remit their father's slaughter 
mutually," and in satisfaction thereof the 
laird of Frendraught was to pay a certain 
sum of money to young Rothiemay and to 
George Gordon's children : " which both, 
Frendraught obeyed and performed willingly, 
and so, all parties having shaken hands, they 
were heartily reconciled." 

This broil was no sooner settled than an- 
other sprouted, a side-shoot from the same 
stem. Meldrum, who had been with Frend- 
raught in the affray with Rothiemay, and had 
been wounded, was dissatisfied with such re- 
quital as he received, and, getting nothing 
more by his bickering and threats, helped 
himself one night to two of Frendraught's 
best horses. Summoned to court for the theft, 
he " turned rebel " and did not appear. Frend- 
raught obtained a commission to arrest him, 
and went to look for him at Pitcaple, a place 
belonging to John Leslie, Meldrum's brother- 
in-law. He did not find Meldrum, but fell 
in with James Leslie, Pitcaple's son, who 
had also been of Frendraught's party at the 
encounter on New Year's day. There was 
talk about Meldrum's behavior, in which 
Frendraught comported himself forbearingly ; 
but James Leslie and Robert Crichton, a 
kinsman of Frendraught, had hot words, 
which ended in Leslie's getting a dangerous 
shot in the arm. Hereupon the larger part 
of the surname of Leslie rose in arms against 
the Crichtons. Frendraught, grieved for 
what had happened to James Leslie, betook 
himself to the Marquis of Huntly, and en- 
treated him to make peace. The marquis 
sent for the Leslies, and did his best to recon- 



cile them, but Pitcaple would listen to noth- 
ing until he knew whether his son James 
was to live or die. Huntly, fearing for Frend- 
raught's safety, kept him two days at the Bog 
of Gight, and then, hearing that the Leslies 
were lying in wait, sent his own son. Vis- 
count Melgum, and the young laird of Roth- 
iemay, to protect him on the way home. 
Arrived there, the laird and his lady begged 
these young gentlemen to remain overnight, 
" and did their best, with all demonstration 
of love and kindness, to entertain them, think- 
ing themselves happy now to have purchased 
such friends who had formerly been their 
foes." At about two in the morning the tower 
of Frendraught house, in which these guests 
lay, took fire, and they with four of their ser- 
vants were burnt to death. This occurred on 
the eighth (ninth) of October. 

So far Sir Robert Gordon, uncle of the lady 
of Frendraught and cousin of the Marquis of 
Huntly, who was perfectly acquainted with all 
the parties and circumstances. He goes on to 
say, with entire fairness : " The rumor of this 
unhappy accident did speedily spread itself 
throughout the whole kingdom, every man 
bewailing it, and constructing it diversly as 
their affections led them ; some laying an 
aspersion upon Frendraught, as if he had wil- 
fully destroyed his guests, who had come 
thither to defend him against his enemies; 
which carried no appearance of truth; for, 
besides the improbability of the matter, he 
did lose therein a great quantity of silver, 
both coined and uncoined, and likewise all his 
writs and evidents were therein burnt." * 

The monstrous wickedness of this act would 
not, in the light of the history of those times, 
afford an argument that would of itself avail 
to clear Frendraught ; but what words could 
describe his recklessness and folly I Suppos- 
ing him willing to set fire to his own house, 
and sacrifice his silver and securities, for the 
gratification of burning young Rothiemay with 
the rest, he knew very well what consequences 
he had to expect. He had been glad to com- 



/ 



* A Genealo^cal History of the Earldom of Sutherland, 
1813, pp. 412, 416 ff. Sir Robert Gordon's book stopa be- 
fore the (inconclusive) legal and judicial proceedings were 



finished. He seems to share the suspicion of the "most 
part," that the Leslies and Meldrum set the fire. 



196. THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 



41 



pound his feud with the Rothiemays by the 
payment of money (some say the considerable 
sum of 50,000 merks). He had been alarmed, 
and with good reason, at the prospect of a 
feud with the Leslies. But what were these to 
a feud with the Marquis of Huntly, which 
would bring down upon him, and did bring 
down upon him, not only the reprisals of the 
Gordons, but spoliation from all the brigands 
of the country ? * 

' Lewed people demen gladly to the badder ende,' 

says Chaucer, and so it was with ballad-mak- 
ers, and sometimes even with clerks; John 
Spalding, for instance, the other contemporary 
authority upon this subject, who gives a lively 
and detailed account of the burning of the 
tower, as foUows.f 

" The viscount was laid in a bed in the Old 
Tower, going off the hall, and standing upon a 
vault, wherein there was a round hole, devised 
of old, just under Aboyne's ^ bed. Robert 
Gordon, born in Sutherland, his servitor, and 
English Will, his page, was both laid beside 
him in the same chamber. The laird of Roth- 
iemay, with some servants beside him, was 
laid in an upper chamber just above 
Aboyne's chamber ; and in another room 
above that chamber was laid George Chalmer 
of Noth, and George Gordon, another of the 
viscount's servants ; with whom also was laid 

* See Spalding, Memorialls of the Trubles in Scotland and 
in England, 1624-1645, Spalding Club, I, 45-51, 420-23, 
430-35, and the continuator of Sir Robert Gordon, p. 474 f. 
Frendraught is generally represented to have been utterly 
ruined in his estate, but that is probably an exaggeration. 
His sufferings are thus depicted in the Charges against the 
Marquis of Huntly and others anent the disorders in the 
Nbnh (Spalding, I, 420) : " Forasmuch as the Lords of Se- 
cret Council are informed that great numbers of sorners and 
broken men of the clan Gregor, clan Lachlan (etc), as also 
divers of the name of Gordon . . . have this long time, and 
now lately very grievously, infested his Majesty's loyal sub- 
jects in the north parts, especially the laird of Frendraught 
and his tenants, by frequent slaughters, herships, and barba- 
rous cruelties committed upon them, and by a late treason- 
able fireraising within the said laird of Frendraught his 
bounds, whereby not only is all the gentleman's lands laid 
waste, his whole goods and bestial spoiled, slain and mai- 
gled, some of his servants killed and cruelly demeaned, but 
also the whole tenants of his lands and domestics of his 
house have left his service, and himself, with the hazard of 
his life, has been forced to steal away under night and have 
his refuge to his Majesty's Council, etc." It was reported 

VOL. IV. 6 



Captain RoUok, then in Frendraught's own 
company. Thus all being at rest, about mid- 
night that dolorous tower took fire in so sud- 
den and furious manner, yea, and in a clap, 
that this noble viscount, the laird of Rothie- 
may, English Will, Colin Ivat, another of 
Aboyne's servitors, and other two, being six 
in number, were cruelly burnt and tormented 
to the death, but help or relief; the laird 
of Frendraught, his lady and whole house- 
hold looking on, without moving or stirring 
to deliver them from the fury of this fearful 
fire, as was reported. Robert Gordon, called 
Sutherland Robert, being in the viscount's 
chamber, escaped this fire with his life. 
George Chalmer and Captain Rollok, being 
in the third room, escaped also this fire, and, 
as was said, Aboyne might have saved him- 
self also if he had gone out of doors, which he 
would not do, but suddenly ran up stairs to 
Rothiemay's chamber, and wakened him to 
rise, and as he is wakening him, the timber 
passage and lofting of the chamber hastily 
takes fire, so that none of them could win 
down stairs again ; so they turned to a win- 
dow looking to the close, where they piteously 
cried help, help, many times, for God's cause ! 
the laird and the lady, with their servants, 
all seeing and hearing this woeful crying, but 
made no help nor manner of helping ; § which 
they perceiving, they cried oftentimes mercy 

that Frendraught obtained a decree against the marquis for 
200,000 merks (Scots) for scathe, and another for 100,000 
pounds (or merks) for spoliation of tithes, but that he recov- 
ered the money does not appear. (Spalding, I, 71, 115.) 
In 1636, through the exertions of Sir Robert Gordon, Huntly 
and Frendraught were brought to submit all differences on 
either side, " and particularly a great action of law prose- 
cuted by Frendraught against the marquis," to the arbitra- 
ment of friends. Huntly died before a decision was reached, 
but " the Laird of Frendraught retired himself home to his 
own lands, and there lived peaceably." (Genealogical His- 
tory of Sutherland, p. 479.) 

t Memorials, I, 17 ff., and the Appendix, p. 381 ff. 

} So John Gordon, Viscount Melgum, the second son of 
the Marquis of Huntly, was indifferently called, though the 
title of Viscount Aboyne belonged to his elder brother, 
George, and was not conferred upon him until after John's 
death. Sir Robert Gordon says that the Marquis of Huntly 
" ordained " for Melgum the lands of Aboyne, and others. 
Melgum was married to Sophia Hay, daughter of the Earl 
of Errol, as appears also in the ballad. 

§ What manner of helping Frendraught could have given 
Spalding does not "condescend upon." The way down 



42 



196. THE FIRE OP FRENDRAUGHT 



at God's hands for their sins, syne clasped in 
other arms, and cheerfully suffered this cruel 
martyrdom. Thus died this noble viscount, 
of singular expectation, Rothiemay, a brave 
youth, and the rest, by this doleful fire never 
enough to be deplored, to the great grief and 
sorrow of their kin, friends, parents, and whole 
country people, especially to the noble mar- 
quis, who for his goodwill got this reward." 

Spalding tells us that it was reported that, 
the morning after the fire. Lady Frendraught, 
riding on a small nag, and with no attend- 
ants but a boy to lead her horse, came weep- 
ing to the Bog, desiring to speak with the 
marquis, but was refused. The Huntly- 
Gordons, the Earl of Errol (brother of Vis- 
countess Melgum), and many other friends 
held a council, and after serious consideration 
came to the conclusion that the fire " could not 
come by chance, sloth, or accident, but was 
plotted and devised of set purpose ; " Frend- 
raught, his lady, his friends and servants, one 
or other, knowing thereof. The marquis, 
however, was resolved not to revenge himself 
"by way of deed," but to invoke the laws. 
Frendraught, as far as we can see, desired a 
legal inquiry no less than Huntly. He ad- 
dressed himself to the Lord Chancellor and to 
the Privy Council, and offered to undergo any 
form of trial, and, delays occurring, he re- 
peated to the Council his wish to have " that 
hidden mystery brought to a clear light." 
Examinations and prosecutions, extended to 
the middle of the year 1634, failed to fix the 

stairs was barred by fire, the windows were barred with 
iron. ["But the stairs or monty being in fire, and the win- 
dows grated with strong bars of iron, there was no moyen 
to escape:" Blakhal's Narration, Spalding Club, p. 125.] 
Ladders and crowbars occur to us, but a tower with walls 
ten feet thick was not expected to burn, the servants had 
not been drilled in managing fires, people smoked from their 
beds at two in the morning are not apt to have their wits 
about them, and the combustion was rapid. 

* All the documents will be found in the Appendix to 
Spalding. Dr John Hill Burton, in Narratives from Crim- 
inal Trials in Scotland, 1852, I, 202 ff., leans hard against 
Frendraught. " With pretty abundant materials, it is im- 
possible, even at the present day, entirely to clear up the 
mystery, but we can see by what machinations inquiry was 
baffled." " It will be seen that no evidence against him was 
received, that it was considered an offence to accuse him." 
" Frendraught, though he had with a high hand averted even 
the pretence of inquiry on the part of the government, did 



guilt of the fire on him or anybody, although 
John Meldrum, on the strength of some 
threats which he had uttered, was wrongfully 
convicted of the act and was executed.* 

A. The date is the eighteenth of October, 
new style for the eighth. When Gordon and 
Rothiemay (having convoyed Frendraught 
safely home) are on the point of returning. 
Lady Frendraught urges them to stay, in token 
of good feeling between Huntly and her hus- 
band. Lord John is quite disposed to comply, 
but Rothiemay says that his horse has been 
tampered with since their coming, and he fears 
that he is fey. After the regular evening- 
mass of ballads (which would have suited 
Lady Frendraught, a concealed Catholic, but 
not her husband). Lord John and Rothiemay 
are laid in one chamber, an arrangement which 
would have allowed both to escape, as Robert 
Gordon did, who slept in his master's room. 
Lord John wakes with the smoke and heat, and 
rouses Rothiemay. The doors and windows 
are fastened. Rothiemay goes to the ' wire- 
window,' and finds the stanchions too strong 
to be dealt with. He sees Lady Frendraught 
below, and cries to her for mercy ; her hus- 
band killed the father, and now she is burning 
the son. Lady Frendraught is sorry that she 
must burn Lord John in order to burn Rothie- 
may, but there is no help ; the keys are cast 
in the deep draw-well.f [Robert] Gordon, 
who has escaped though the keys were in the 
well, calls to his master to jump from the 
window ; he will catch him in his arms. His 

not go unpunished, whether he was guilty or not." Dr Burton 
speaks with more reserve in his History of Scotland, VI, 
209 ; little more is insisted on than a wish of the Court to 
foster the Crichtons as a balance to the power of the house 
of Huntly. It is clear that Frendraught had all the consid- 
eration and help from the government which he could claim. 
Mr Charles Rampini, who has discussed the affair in The 
Scottish Review, X, 143 ff., 1887, concludes favorably to 
Frendraught's innocence of the fire. 

t " Many years ago, when the well was cleared out, this 
tradition was corroborated by their finding the keys: at 
least, such was the report of the country." (Finlay, I, xxi, 
citing a correspondent.) Of course we should have had to 
believe everything against Lady Frendraught, even that 
she had been so simple as to throw them in, if keys had been 
found in the well ; but the land-steward of the proprietor of 
the estate informed the late Mr Norval Clyne that the draw- 
well was searched, and no keys were found. 



196, THE FIRE OP FRENDRAUGILT 



43 



master answers tbat no fire shall part him and 
Rothiemay, and besides, the window is fast. 
He throws his finger-rings down, to be given 
to his lady. When the servant goes home to 
his mistress, she reproaches him for coming 
back alive and leaving his master dead. She 
tears off the clothes which her maid puts on 
her, exclaiming that she won a sore heart the 
day she was married, and that that day has re- 
turned (which is not easy to understand : see 
Appendix). 

B. This fragment represents Lady Frend- 
raught as being very importunate with Lord 
John: she presses him three times over to 
stay, and promises him a morning-gift of 
lands if he will comply ; by a perversion of 
tradition, Strathbogie, which had been in his 
family three hundred years, and which, 
further on, he offers to give her if she will let 
him out. Finding that he cannot escape 
(perhaps stanza 7 should come later), Lord 
John takes out his psalm-book and sings three 
verses, with 'God end our misery' at each 
verse's end. In 9 he sees his elder brother, 
Lord George, from the window, and asks 
what news he has, but a defect conceals from 
us the point of this passage. Stanza 16 
seems to belong to Lord John's wife. 

O. When the gentlemen are in their sad- 
dles, ready to ride away. Lady Frendraught, 
on her bare knees, begs them to remain, and 
promises them a firlot of red gold if they will. 
When everybody has gone to bed, the doors 

* This is, of course, the style of the kirk. The fifty -third 
psalm of the Vulgate would not have been out of place for 
Lord John, who was a Catholic ; but no doubt Lord John is 
taken for a Presbyterian in the ballad, and the ' three ' is for 
rhyme. Father Blakhal maintains that Frendraught burnt 
his tower, not to rid himself of Eothiemay, but out of theo- 
logical malice to Melgum "for his zeal in defending and 
protecting the poor Catholics against the tyranny of our 
puritanical bishops and ministers." " As he [Melgum] was 
dying for the defence of the poor Catholics, God did bestow 
upon him the grace to augment the number at the last hour 
of his life, persuading the Baron of Rothiemay to abjure the 
heresy of Calvin, and make the profession of the Catholic 
faith openly, to the hearing of the traitor and all who were 
with him in the court. They two being at a window, and 
whilst their legs were burning, they did sing together Te 
Deum; which ended, they did tell at the window that 
their legs being consumed even to their knees, etc. . . . 
And so this noble martyr finished this mortal life, at the 



are locked and the windows shut. The reek 
begins to rise and the joists to crack; Lord 
John betakes himself to the window, and 
finds the stanchions too strong to break. He 
goes back and wakens Rothiemay, and pro- 
poses to him to praise the Lord in the fifty- 
third psalm, * for there is treason about them. 
He calls to Lady Frendraught, walking on 
the green, for mercy; she replies that the 
keys are in the well, and the doors were locked 
yesterday. He reproaches her for burning her 
own flesh. George Chalmers (who really 
escaped, though lodged in the third sfcory) is 
described as leaping the ditches and coming, 
from without, to Rothiemay's help, and Colin 
Irving (the Colin Ivat of Spalding, who was 
burnt) as doing the same in behalf of Lord 
John, to whom he calls to jump into his 
arms. Lord John is burning, and there is 
little more left of him than his spirit ; but he 
throws down a purse of gold for the poor and 
his rings for his wife. Lady Rothiemay comes 
in the morning to cry vengeance on Frend- 
raught, who has betrayed the gay Gordons, 
killed her lord, and burnt her son. f 

D. " ' There are some intermediate particu- 
lars,' Mr Boyd says, * respecting the lady's 
lodging her victims in a turret or flanker which 
did not communicate with the castle.' * This,' 
adds he, 'I only have from tradition, as I 
never heard any other stanzas besides the 
foregoing.' The author of the original, we 
may perceive, either through ignorance or 

age of four and twenty years." A Brief Narration, etc., p. 
124 f. 

Blakhal, who is far from being a cautious writer, also tells 
us that " the traitor," Frendraught, " with his men, in arms, 
walked all the night in the court," to kill Gordon and 
Rothiemay, if they should escape from the fire. There is a 
passage of the same purport in one of Arthur Johnston's 
two poems on the burning of Frendraught, " Querela 
SophisB Hayse," etc. : 

Cur vigil insuetis noctem traduxit in annis, 
Csetera cum somno turba sepulta foret ? 

The other piece ends with a ferocious demand for the use of 
torture to discover the guilty party. (DelitisB Poetarum 
Scotorum, Amsterdam, 1637, pp. 585, 587 ; or, A. I. Poemata 
Omnia, Middelburg, 1642, pp. 329, 331.) 
t Stanza 21 recalls the verses in Hume of Godscroft : 

Edinburgh castle, towne, and tower, 
God grant thou sink for siune ! etc. 



44 



196. THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 



design, had deviated from the fact in suppos- 
ing Lady Frennet's husband to have been slain 
by Lord John's father." Ritson, p. 36. 

It may be noted that three of the most 
tragical of the Scottish historical ballads are 
associated with the name of Gordon: the 
Burning of Towie, as we might call ' Captain 



Car,' No 178, through Adam Gordon, uncle 
of the first marquis of Huntly ; the Burning 
of Donibristle, known as ' The Bonny Earl 
of Murray,' No 181, of which the responsibility 
is put upon the marquis (then earl) himself ; 
and the Burning of Frendraught, in which his 
son perished. 



a. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 161, from a MS. of Charles 
Kirkpatrick Sharpe. b. Maidment's North Conntrie Gar- 
land, p. 4 ; " long preserved by tradition in Aberdeenshire, 
and procured from an intelligent individual resident in that 
part of Scotland." 

1 The eighteenth of October, 

A dismal tale to hear 
How good Lord John and Rothiemay 
Was both burnt in the fire. 

2 When steeds was saddled and well bridled, 

And ready for to ride. 
Then out it came her false Frendraught, 
Inviting them to bide. 

3 Said, ' Stay this night untill we sup, 

The morn untill we dine ; 
'T will be a token of good greement 
'Twixt your good lord and mine.' 

4 ' We 'U turn again,' said good Lord John ; 

' But no,' said Rothiemay, 
' My steed 's trapand, my bridle 's broken, 
I fear the day I 'm fey.' 

5 When mass was sung, and bells was rung. 

And all men bound for bed, 
Then good Lord John and Rothiemay 
In one chamber was laid. 



8 When they were dressed in their cloaths, 

And ready for to boun, 
The doors and windows was all secur'd, 
The roof-tree burning down. 

9 He did him to the wire-window, 

As fast as we could gang ; 
Says, Wae to the hands put in the stancheons ! 
For out we '11 never win. 

10 When he stood at the wire-window. 

Most doleful to be seen, 
He did espy her Lady Frendraught, 
Who stood upon the green. 

11 Cried, Mercy, mercy, Lady Frendraught! 

Will ye not sink with sin ? 
For first your husband killed my father, 
And now you burn his son. 

12 O then out spoke her Lady Frendraught, 

And loudly did she cry ; 
' It were great pity for good Lord John, 

But none for Rothiemay ; 
But the keys are casten in the deep draw-well, 
Ye cannot get away.' 

13 While he stood in this dreadful plight. 

Most piteous to be seen. 
There called out his servant Gordon, 
As he had frantic been : 



6 They had not long cast off their cloaths. 

And were but now asleep, 
When the weary smoke began to rise, 
Likewise the scorching heat. 

7 ' waken, waken, Rothiemay ! 

O waken, brother dear ! 
And turn you to our Saviour ; 
There is strong treason here.* 



14 ' loup, O loup, my dear master ! 

O loup and come to me ! 
I '11 catch you in my arms two, 
One foot I will not flee. 

15 ' loup, O loup, my dear master ! 

loup and come away ! 
I '11 catch you in my arms two. 
But Rothiemay may lie.' 



196, THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 



45 



16 * The fish shall never swim in the flood, 

Nor corn grow through the clay, 
Nor the fiercest fire that ever was kindled 
Twin me and Rothiemay. 

17 * But I cannot loup, I cannot come, 

I cannot win to thee ; 
My head 's fast in the wire-window. 
My feet burning from me. 

18 * My eyes are seething in my head, 

My flesh roasting also. 
My bowels are boiling with my blood ; 
Is not that a woeful woe ? 

19 ' Take here the rings from my white fingers. 

That are so long and small. 

And give them to my lady fair. 

Where she sits in her hall. 

20 ' So I cannot loup, I cannot come, 

I cannot loup to thee ; 
My earthly part is all consumed, 
My spirit but speaks to thee.' 

21 Wringing her hands, tearing her hair, 

His lady she was seen, 



And thus addressed his servant Gordon, 
Where he stood on the green. 

22 * O wae be to you, George Gordon ! 

An ill death may you die ! 
So safe and sound as you stand there. 
And my lord bereaved from me.' 

23 ' I bad him loup, I bad him come, 

I bad him loup to me ; 
I 'd catch him in my arms two, 
A foot I should not flee. &c. 

24 ' He threw me the rings from his white fingers, 

Which were so long and small. 
To give to you, his lady fair, 

Where you sat in your hall.' &c. 

25 Sophia Hay, Sophia Hay, 

bonny Sophia was her name. 
Her waiting maid put on her cloaths. 
But I wot she tore them off again. 

26 And aft she cried, Ohon ! alas ! alas ! 

A sair heart 's ill to win ; 
I wan a sair heart when I married him, 
And the day it 's well returnd again. 



B 



Kinloch MSS, V, 399, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton. 



4 ' I '11 gie you a Strathboggie lands, 
And the laigh lands o Strathray, 



1 * Ye 'll stay this night wi me. Lord John, 

Ye 'U stay this night wi me. 
For there is appearence of good greement 
Betwixt Frendraught and thee.' 

2 ' How can I bide, or how shall I bide. 

Or how can I bide wi thee. 
Sin my lady is in the lands of Air, 
And I long till I her see ? ' 

3 ' Oh stay this night wi me. Lord John, 

Oh stay this night wi me, 
And bonny ['s] be the morning-gift 
That I will to you gie. 



5 * Ye '11 stay this night wi me, Lord John, 

Ye '11 stay this night wi me. 
And I '11 lay you in a bed of down. 
And Rothiemay you wi.' 

6 When mass was sung, and bells were rang. 

And a' men bun to bed, 
Gude Lord John and Rothiemay 
In one chamber were laid. 



7 Out hes he taen his little psalm-buik. 
And verses sang he three. 
And aye at every verse's end, 
' God end our misery ! ' 



46 196. THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT 

8 The doors were shut, the keys were thrown 13 ' I '11 gie you a' Straboggie lands, 

Into a vault of stone, And the laigh lands o Strathbrae, 

.....••• ........ 

9 He is dune him to the weir-window, 14 * Now there 's the rings frae my fingers, 

The stauncheons were oer strong ; And the broach frae my breast-bone ; 

There he saw him Lord George Gordon Ye '11 gae that to my gude ladye 

Come haisling to the town. ....... 

10 * What news, what news now, George Grordon ? #*#**** 

Whats news hae you to me ? 

15 'How can I loup, or how shall I loup ? 

How can I loup to thee ? 

When the blood is boiling in my body, 

11 He 's dune him to the weir-window, And my feet burnin frae me ? ' 

The stauncheons were oer Strang ; 

And there he saw the Lady Frendraught, ******* 
Was walking on the green. 

16 * If I was swift as any swallow, 

12 ' Open yer doors now. Lady Frendraught, And then had wings to fly. 

Ye '11 open yer doors to me ; I could fly on to fause Frendraught 

And bonny 's be the mornin-gift And cry vengeance till I die.' 
That I shall to you gie. 



From a note-book of Dr Joseph Robertson : " procured in 
the parish of Forgue by A. Scott; communicated to me 
by Mr John Stuart, Aberdeen, 11 October, 1832." 

1 It was in October the woe began — 

It lasts for now and aye, — 
The burning o the bonny house o fause Frend- 
raught, 
Lord John and Rothiemay. 

2 When they were in their saddles set. 

And ready to ride away. 
The lady sat down on her bare knees, 
Beseeching them to stay. 

3 ' Ye 's hae a firlot o the gude red gowd. 

Well straiket wi a wan ; 
And if that winna please you well, 
I '11 heap it wi my han.' 

4 Then out it spake the gude Lord John, 

And said to Rothiemay, 
* It is a woman that we 're come o. 
And a woman we '11 obey.' 



5 When a' man was well drunken. 

And a' man bound for bed. 
The doors were lockd, the windows shut, 
And the keys were casten by. 

6 When a' man was well drunken. 

And a' man bound for sleep. 
The dowy reek began to rise, 
And the joists began to crack. 

7 He 's deen him to the wire-window. 

And ruefu strack and dang; 
But they would neither bow nor brack, 
The staunchions were so Strang. 

8 He 's deen him back and back again. 

And back to Rothiemay ; 
Says, Waken, waken, brother dear ! 
Waken, Rothiemay ! 

9 'Come let us praise the Lord our God, 

The fiftieth psalm and three ; 
For the reek and smoke are us about. 
And there 's fause treason tee. 



196. THE FIRE OP FRENDRAUGHT 



47 



10 ' O mercy, mercy, Lady Frendraught ! 

As ye walk on the green : ' 
* The keys are in the deep draw-well, 
The doors were lockt the streen.' 

11 * O woe be to you, Lady Frendraught ! 

An ill death may you die ! 
For think na ye this a sad torment 
Your own flesh for to burn ? ' 

12 George Chalmers was a bonny boy ; 

He leapt the stanks so deep. 
And he is on to Rothiemay, 
His master for to help. 

13 Colin Living was a bonny boy. 

And leapt the stanks so deep : 
' Come down, come down, my master dear ! 
In my arms I '11 thee kep.' 

14 * Come down ? come down ? how can I come ? 

How can I come to thee ? 
My flesh is burning me about. 
And yet my spirit speaks to thee.* 

15 He 's taen a purse o the gude red gowd, 

And threw it oer the wa : 
' It 's ye '11 deal that among the poor. 
Bid them pray for our souls a'.' 

16 He 's taen the rings off his fingers, 

And threw them oer the wa ; 
Says, Ye '11 gie that to my lady dear, 
From me she '11 na get more. 



17 ' Bid her make her bed well to the length, 

But no more to the breadth. 
For the day will never dawn 
That I '11 sleep by her side.' 

18 Ladie Rothiemay came on the mom. 

She kneeled it roun and roun : 
' Restore your lodgers, fause Frendraught, 
That ye burnd here the streen. 

19 ' O were I like yon turtle-dove. 

Had I wings for to flie, 
I 'd fly about fause Frendraught 
Crying vengeance till I die. 

20 * Frendraught fause, all thro the ha's. 

Both back and every side ; 
For ye 've betrayd the gay Gordons, 
And lands wherein they ride. 

21 ' Frendraught fause, all thro the ha's ; 

I wish you 'd sink for sin ; 
For first you kiUd my own good lord. 
And now you 've burnd my son. 

22 ' I caredna sae muckle for my good lord 

I saw him in battle slain, 
But a' is for my ovra son dear. 
The heir o a' my Ian. 

23 ' I caredna sae muckle for my good lord 

I saw him laid in clay. 
But a' is for my own son dear, 
The heir o Rothiemay.* 



Ritson's Scotish Songs, 1794, 11, 35; remembered by the 
Kev. Mr Boyd, translator of Dante, and communicated to 
the editor by J. C. Walker. 

1 The reek it rose, and the flame it flew, 

And oh ! the fire augmented high. 
Until it came to Lord John's chamber-window. 
And to the bed where Lord John lay. 

2 ' O help me, help me, Lady Frennet ! 

I never ettled harm to thee ; 
And if my father slew thy lord. 
Forget the deed and rescue me.' 



3 He looked east, he looked west, 

To see if any help was nigh ; 
At length his little page he saw. 
Who to his lord aloud did cry : 

4 ' Loup doun, loup doun, my master dear ! 

What though the window 's dreigh and hie ? 
I '11 catch you in my arms twa, 

And never a foot from you I '11 flee.' 

6 * How can I loup, you little page ? 
How can I leave this window hie ? 
Do you not see the blazing low. 

And my twa legs burnt to my knee ? ' 



48 



196. THE FIRE OF FRENDBAUGHT 

E 

Kinloch MSS, VI, 27, in the handwriting of Joseph 
Robertson when a youth. 

Now wake, now wake you, Rothiemay ! 

I dread you sleep oer souu ; 
The bed is burnin us about 

And the curtain 's faain down. 



A. a. 23, 24. The &c. at the end denote that the 
servant repeated the substance of 15-18 
and of 20, which, however, was not writ- 
ten out. 
b. 1\ day of. 1*. Were. 2S b\ 5*, 8^. were. 

2^ out there came the. 6^. but new. 

6^ the wanting. 7*. to your. 8^. dressed wi. 

9^ did flee to. 10^ While he. 

10^ 12\ the for her. 11^. Cried wanting. 

12^ The keys were casten. 12®. win away. 

13". Then called. 15*. may lay. 

17^. But wanting. 18^. are southering. 

19^. Which are. 20^. So wanting. 



20*. hxxt wanting. 21*. fair ^br she. 
21®. Calling unto his. 22*. lord burned, 
come to. 23*. would not : no &c. 
sit : no &c. 25^^. O wanting. 
I wat wanting. 26^. One alas wanting. 
heart 's easy wan. 
And, well wanting. 
Some readings of b are preferable, as in 
6^, 18^ 21^ 22*; others also, which may 
be editorial improvements. 
16. " This is another stanza which I after- 
wards received." 
4^. A small stroke between out and it. 



23*. 
24* 
25* 
26^. 
26*. 



APPENDIX 



A 26 And aft she cried, ' Ohon ! alas ! alas ! 
A sair heart 's ill to win ; 
I wan a sair heart when 1 married him, 
And the day it 's well returned again.' 

My friend the late Mr Norval Clyne thought 
that this obscure stanza might perhaps be cleared 
up by the following verses, communicated to him in 
1873 by the Rev. George Sutherland, Episcopal 
clergyman at TiUymorgan, Aberdeenshire. 



YOUNG TOLQUHON 

Word has come to Young Tolquhon, 
In his chamber where he lay. 

That Sophia Hay, his first fair love, 
Was wedded and away. 

* Sophia Hay, Sophia Hay, 
My love, Sophia Hay, 



I wish her anes as sair a heart 
As she 's gien me the day. 

' She thinks she has done me great wrang, 

But I don't think it so ; 
I hope to live in quietness 

When she shall live in woe. 

* She 'II live a discontented life 

Since she is gone from me ; 
Ower seen, ower seen, a wood o green 
Will shortly cover me. 

* When I am dead and in my grave, 

Cause write upon me so : 
" Here lies a lad who died for love, 
And who can blame my woe." * 

Mr Sutherland wrote: This fragment I took 
down from the recitation of my mother, twenty or 
twenty-five years ago. She was born in 1790, and 
her great-grandmother was a servant of the last 
Forbes of Tolquhon. She had a tradition that 
Sophia Hay was one of the Errol family, and mar- 



197. JAMES GRANT 



49 



ried Lord John Gordon, who was burned at Frend- 
raught. Mr Clyne remarked : The Young Tol- 
quhon at the time of this marriage, about 1628, was 
Alexander Forbes, eldest son of William Forbes of 
Tolquhon. Alexander is recorded to have died 
without issue, and the following additional particu- 
lars, singularly suggestive of a determination on the 
unfortunate lover's part to renounce the world, have 
been communicated to me by Dr John Stuart. In 
1631 William Forbes granted a charter of the 
lands of Tolquhon to his second son Walter and his 
heirs male, and in 1632 another deed of the same 
sort to Walter, with the express consent of Alex- 
ander, his elder brother. In 1641 Alexander is sup- 
posed to have been dead, as Walter is then styled 
" of Tolquhon." The lady's somewhat enigmatical 
exclamation, 



' I wan a sair heart when I married him, 
And the day it 's well returned again,' 

may have its explanation in the words of Young 
Tolquhon, 

' I wish her anes as sair a heart 
As she 'b gien me the day.' 

Mr Clyne did not fail to observe that Father 
Blakhal has recorded of Lady Melgum that he had 
often heard her say that she had never loved any- 
body but her husband, and never would love 
another (Narration, p. 92). This testimony, if not 
decisive, may be considered not less cogent as to 
the matter of fact than anything in ' Young Tol- 
quhon ' to the contrary. But it may be that stanza 
24 became attached to the Frendraught ballad in 
consequence of the coexistence of this or some sim- 
ilar ballad of Young Tolquhon. 



197 

JAMES GRANT 

Motherwelll's MS., p. 470, communicated apparently by Buchan ; ' The Gordons and the Grants,' Buchan's Bal- 
lads of the North of Scotland, II, 220. 



Theee was an implacable feud between 
the Grants of Ballindalloch and the Grants 
of Carron, "for divers ages," Sir Robert 
Gordon says, certainly for ninety years after 
1550. This fragment has to do with the later 
stage of their enmity. In 1628, John Grant 
of Ballindalloch killed John Grant of Carron. 
James Grant of Carron, uncle of the slain 
man, burnt all the corn, barns, and byres of 
Ballindalloch young and old, and took to the 
hills (1630). The Ballindallochs complained 
to Murray, the lieutenant, and he, "to gar 
ane devil ding another," set the Clanchattan 
upon James Grant. They laid siege to a 
house where he was with a party of his men ; 
he made his way out, was pursued, and was 
taken after receiving eleven arrow-wounds. 
When he was well enough to travel, he was 

VOL. rv. 7 



sent to Edinburgh, and, as everybody sup- 
posed, to his death ; but after a confinement 
of more than a year he broke ward (October, 
1682). Large sums were ofifered for him, alive 
or dead; but James Grant was hard to keep 
and hard to catch, and in November, 1633, ^ 
he began to kythe again in the north. A 
gang of the forbidden name of McGregor, 
who had been brought into the country by Bal- 
lindalloch to act against James Grant, beset 
him in a small house in Carron where he was 
visiting his wife, having only his son and one 
other man with him ; but he defended him- 
self with the spirit of another Cloudesly, shot 
the captain, and got off to the bog with his 



men." 



* Gordon'sHistoryof Sntherland, p.414; Spalding's Me- 
morials, I, 11, 21-23, 29 f., 43 f. 



50 



197. JAMES GRANT 



" The year of God one thousand six hun- 
dred thirty-six, some of the Marquis of Hunt- 
ly's followers and servants did invade the 
rebel James Grant and some of his associates, 
hard by Strathbogy. They burnt the house 
wherein he was, but, the night being dark and 
windy, he and his brother, Robert Grant, es- 
caped." * 

This last escapade of James Grant may 
perhaps be the one to which this fragment has 
reference, though Ballindalloch was not per- 
sonally engaged in the assault on the house, 
and I know of no Douglas having sheltered 



Grant of Carron. One almost wonders that 
this mettlesome and shifty outlaw was not 
celebrated in a string of ballads. 

Early in 1639, James Grant got his peace 
from the king ; later in the year, he joined 
the " barons " at Aberdeen with five hundred 
men, and in 1640, we are told, " he purchased 
his remission orderly and went home to his 
own country peaceably (against all men's ex- 
pectation, being such a blood-shedder and 
cruel oppressor) after he had escaped so many 
dangers." f 



1 *AwAY with you, away with you, James de 

Grant ! 
And, Douglas, ye '11 be slain ; 
For BaddindaUoch 's at your gates, 
With many brave Highland men.' 

2 ' BaddindaUoch has no feud at me, 

And I have none at him ; 
Cast up my gates baith broad and wide, 
Let BaddindaUoch in.' 



* James de Grant has made a vaunt, 

And leaped the castle- wa ; 

But, if he comes this way again, 

He 'U no win sae well awa. 

* Take him, take him, brave Gordons, 

O take him, fine feUows a' ! 
If he wins but ae mUe to the Highland hiUs, 
He 'U defy you Gordons a'.' 



As printed by Buchan : 

1', 2H BalnadaUach. 1*. man. 2* come in. 

* Gordon's History, pp. 481, 460 ; Spalding, with details, 
1,70. 



3*. nae won. 4^. on the Highland hiU. 
t Spalding, I, 141, 188, 244. 



198. BONNY JOHN SETON 



61 



198 
BONNY JOHN SETON 



A. 'Bonny John Seton,' Maidment's North Countrie 
Garland, p. 15 ; Buchan's Gleanings, p. 161 ; Maid- 
ment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and 
Traditionary, I, 280. 



B. ' The Death of John Seton,' Buchan's Ballads of 
the North of Scotland, II, 136. 



Btjchan had another copy, sent him in 
manuscript by a young lady in Aberdeen, in 
which the Earl Marischal was made promi- 
nent : Ballads, II, 321. Aytoun, I, 139, had 
a copy which had been annotated by C. K. 
Sharpe, and from this he seems to have de- 
rived a few variations. The New Deeside 
Guide [1832], p. 5 (nominally by James 
Brown, but written by Dr Joseph Eobertson), 
gives A, with a few trifling improvements 
which seem to be editorial. 

A, B, 1-8. The ballad is accurate as to the 
date, not commonly a good sign for such 
V things. On Tuesday, the eighteenth of June, 
1639, Montrose began an attack on the bridge 
of Dee, which had been fortified and manned 
by the royalists of Aberdeen to stop his ad- 
vance on the city. The bridge was bravely 
defended that day and part of the next by 
Lieutenant - Colonel Johnston (not Middle- 
ton ; Middleton was of the assailants). The 
young Lord of Aboyne, just made the king's 
lieutenant in the north, had a small body of 
horse on the north side of the river. Mont- 
rose's cavalry were sent up the south side as 
if to cross (though there was no ford), and 
Aboyne's were moved along the opposite 
bank to resist a passage. This exposed the 
latter to Montrose's cannon, and the Cove- 
nanters let fly some shot at them, one of which 
killed "a gallant gentleman, John Seton of 
Pitmeddin, most part of his body above the 

* Gordon, History of Scots Affairs, II, 276-80 j Spald- 
ing. Memorials, I, 209-11. Seton is called a bold, or brave, 
baron, in A 2, B 3, not in the mediaeval way, but as one of the 
gentlemen of the king's party. The Gordons and their asso- 
ciates " at this time were called the Barons, and their act- 
ings, by way of derision, the Barons* Reign." Gordon, p. 
261. "Northern," B 1^, should be southern, as in A. 



saddle being carried away." Johnston's leg 
was crushed by stones brought down from one 
of the turrets of the bridge by a cannon-shot, 
and he had to be carried off. The loss of their 
commander and the disappearance of Aboyne's 
horse discouraged the now small party who 
were holding the bridge, and they abandoned 
it. Aboyne rode off, and left Aberdeen to 
to shift for itself.* 

A 9-12, B 9-13. The spoiling of John Se- 
ton by order of Sir William Forbes of Crai- 
gievar is not noticed by Gordon and Spalding, 
though other matters of not greater propor- 
tion are. 

A 13-15. The reference is to the affair 
called the Raid of Stonehaven, June 15, three 
days before that of the Bridge of Dee. 
Aboyne's Highlanders, a thousand or more, 
were totally unused to artillery, and a few 
shots from Montrose's cannon lighting among 
them so frightened them that " they did run 
off, all in a confusion, never looking behind 
them, till they were got into a moss." f 

B 14-17. " When Montrose entered Ab- 
erdeen," says James Gordon, " the Earl Mari- 
schal and Lord Muchall pressed him to burn 
the town, and urged him with the Committee 
of Estates' warrant for that effect. He an- 
swered that it were best to advise a night upon 
it, since Aberdeen was the London of the 
north, and would prejudice themselves by 
want of it. So it was taken to consideration . 

t Gordon, II, 274 ; Spalding, I, 208 ; Napier's Montrose 
and the Covenanters, I, 284 f. The Hieland men, says 
Baillie, "avowed that they could not abide the musket's 
mother, and so fled in troops at the first volley." Letters, 
ed. Laing, I, 221. 



52 



198. BONNY JOHN SETON 



for that night, and next day the Earl Mari- 
schal and Lord Muchall came protesting he 
would spare it. He answered he was desir- 
ous so to do, but durst not except they would 
be his warrant. Whereupon they drew up a 
paper, signed with both their hands, declar- 
ing that they had hindered it, and promising 
to interpose with the Committee of Estates 



for him. Yet the next year, when he was 
made prisoner and accused, this was objected 
to Montrose, that he had not burned Aber- 
deen, as he had orders from the Committee of 
Estates. Then he produced Marischal and 
Muchall's paper, which hardly satisfied the 
exasperated committee." * 



Maidment's North Goontrie Garland, p. 15. 

1 Upon the eighteenth day of June, 

A dreary day to see, 
The southern lords did pitch their camp 
Just at the bridge of Dee. 

2 Bonny John Seton of Fitmeddin, 

A bold baron was he, 
He made his testament ere he went out, 
The wiser man was he. 

3 He left his land to his young son, 

His lady her dowry, 
A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean, 
Yet on the nurse's knee. 

4 Then out came his lady fair, 

A tear into her ee ; 
Says, Stay at home, my own good lord, 
O stay at home with me ! 

5 He looked over his left shoulder, 

Cried, Souldiers, follow me ! 
O then she looked in his face. 

An angry woman was she : 
' God send me back my steed again. 

But neer let me see thee ! ' 

6 His name was Major Middleton 

That manned the bridge of Dee, 
His name was Colonel Henderson 
That let the cannons flee. 

7 His name was Major Middleton 

That manned the bridge of Dee, 
And his name was Colonel Henderson 
That dung Fitmeddin in three. 



8 Some rode on the black and grey, 

And some rode on the brown, 
But the bonny John Seton 
Lay gasping on the ground. 

9 Then bye there comes a false Forbes, 

"Was riding from Driminere ; 
Says, Here there lies a proud Seton ; 
This day they ride the rear. 

10 Cragievar said to his men, 

' You may play on your shield ; 
For the proudest Seton in all the Ian 
This day lies on the field.' 

11 ' O spoil him ! spoil him ! ' cried Cragievar, 

' Him spoiled let me see ; 
For on my word,' said Cragievar, 
* He had no good will at me.* 

12 They took from him his armour clear, 

His sword, Hkewise his shield ; 
Yea, they have left him naked there, 
Upon the open field. 

13 The Highland men, they 're clever men 

At handling sword and shield, 
But yet they are too naked men 
To stay in battle field. 

14 The Highland men are clever men 

At handling sword or gun. 

But yet they are too naked men 

To bear the cannon's rung. 

15 For a cannon's roar in a summer night 

Is like thunder in the air ; 
There 's not a man in Highland dress 
Can face the cannon's fire. 

♦ History of Scots Affairs, II, 281, note: see also what is 
added to that note. 



198. BONNY JOHN SETON 



63 



B 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 136. 

1 It fell about the month of June, 

On Tuesday, timouslie, 
The northern lords hae pitchd their camps 
Beyond the brig o Dee. 

2 They ca'ed him Major Middleton 

That mand the brig o Dee ; 
They ca'ed him Colonel Henderson 
That gard the cannons flee. 

3 Bonny John Seton o Pitmedden, 

A brave baron was he ; 
He made his tesment ere he gaed, 
And the wiser man was he. 

4 He left his lands unto his heir, 

His ladie her dowrie ; 
Ten thousand crowns to Lady Jane, 
Sat on the nourice knee. 

6 Then out it speaks his lady gay, 
' O stay my lord wi me ; 
For word is come, the cause is won 
Beyond the brig o Dee.' 

6 He turned him right and round about. 

And a light laugh gae he ; 
Says, I wouldna for my lands sae broad 
I stayed this night wi thee. 

7 He 's taen his sword then by his side, 

His buckler by his knee, 
And laid his leg in oer his horse, 
Said, Sodgers, follow me ! 

8 So he rade on, and further on. 

Till to the third mile corse ; 
The Covenanters' cannon balls 
Dang him aff o his horse. 



9 Up then rides him Cragievar, 
Said, Wha 's this lying here ? 
It surely is the Lord o Aboyne, 
For Huntly was not here. 

10 Then out it speaks a fause Forbes, 

Lived up in Druminner ; 

* My lord, this is a proud Seton, 

The rest will ride the thinner.' 

11 * Spulyie him, spulyie him,' said Craigievar, 

' O spulyie him, presentlie ; 
For I could lay my lugs in pawn 
He had nae gude will at me.' 

12 They 've taen the shoes frae aff his feet, 

The garters frae his knee, 
Likewise the gloves upon his hands ; 
They 've left him not a flee. 

13 His fingers they were sae sair swelld 

The rings would not come aff ; 
They cutted the grips out o his ears, 
Took out the gowd signets. 

14 Then they rade on, and further on. 

Tin they came to the Crabestane, 
And Craigievar, he had a mind 
To burn a' Aberdeen. 

15 Out it speaks the gallant Montrose, 

Grace on his fair body ! 

* We winna burn the bonny burgh, 

We '11 even laet it be.' 

16 Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose, 

' Your purpose I will break ; 

We winna burn the bonny burgh, 

We '11 never build its make. 

17 * I see the women and their children 

Climbing the craigs sae hie ; 
We '11 sleep this night in the bonny burgh, 
And even lat it be.' 



B. lli«. Spulzie. 

Readings in Aytoun which may have been 
derived from Sharpe : 
A. ^\ The tear stood in. 

8^ But bonny John Seton o Fitmeddin. 



B. 8^ And there the Covenanters' shot. 
8*. It dang him frae his. 
10'. Was riding frae D. 
10'. This is the proudest Seton of a'. 
14*. And wha sae ready as Craigievar. 



54 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



15^ Then up and spake the gude. 
16^. As he rade owre the field. 
16'. Why should we bum the bonny, 
16*. When its like we couldna build. 



Headings in The New Deeside Guide : 
A. 1®. lords their pallions pitched. 
22. A baron bold. 3\ To his. 
4^. and came. 5^ your steed. 
11*. He bore : to me. 15*. cannon's rair. 



199 

THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



A. a. Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 59, No 20. b. ' The 
Bonnie House o Airly,' Finlay's Ballads, II, 25. c. 
Skene MS., pp. 28, 54. d. ' The Bonny House of 
Airly,' Campbell MSS, II, 113. e. 'The Bonny 
House of Airly,' an Aberdeen stall-copy, without date. 
f. 'The Bonny House o Airly,' another Aberdeen 
stall-copy, without date. g. Hogg's Jacobite Relics, 
II, 152. h. Kinloch MSS, VI, 5, one stanza. 

B. Kinloch MSS, V, 273. 



C. a. *The Bonny House of Airley,' Kmloch MSS, V, 
205. b. ' Young Airly,' Cromek's Remains of Niths- 
dale and Galloway Song, p. 226. c. ' The Bonny 
House o Airlie,' Smith's Scottish Minstrel, II, 2. d. 
' The Bonny House o Airlie,' Christie's Traditional 
Ballad Airs, II, 276, 296. 

D. Kinloch MSS, V, 106 ; Kinloch MSS, VII, 207 ; 
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 104. 



The earliest copy of this ballad hitherto 
found is a broadside of about 1790 (a hun- 
dred and fifty years later than the event cele- 
brated), which Finlay combined with two 
others, derived from recitation, for his edition 
(A b). Ob, c, d, are not purely traditional 
texts, and A g has borrowed some stanzas 
from Ob. C b is transcribed into the Camp- 
bell MSS, I, 184. Aytoun's edition, 1859, 
II, 270, is compounded from A a, A b, with 
half a dozen words changed, and it is not quite 
clear how the editor means to be understood 
when he says, " the following, I have reason 
to believe, is the original." , 

One summer day, Argyle, who has a quar- 
rel with Airlie, sets out to plunder the castle 
of that name. The lord of the place is at the 
V time with the king. Argyle (something in 
h/ V Y the style of Captain Car) summons Lady 
Ogilvie to come down and kiss him ; else he 
will not leave a standing stone in Airlie. 
This she will not do, for all his threat. Ar- 
gyle demands of the lady where her dowry is 

* " ' The deep, deep den ' referred to in the ballad is the 
Den of Airlie, celebrated for its fine scenery and romantic 
beauty. It extends about a mile below the junction of the 



(as if it were tied up in a handkerchief). She 
gives no precise information : it is east and 
west, up and down the water-side. Sharp 
search is made, and the dowry is found in a 
plum-tree (balm-tree, cherry-tree, palm-tree, 
A a, b, d, e, g). Argyle lays or leads the 
lady down somewhere while the plundering 
goes forward. She tells him that no Camp- 
bell durst have taken in hand such a thing if 
her lord had been at home. She has born 
seven (ten) sons, and is expecting another; 
but had she as many more (a hundred more), 
she would give them all to King Charles. 

In A d 7 Lady Ogilvie asks the favor of 
Argyle that he will take her to a high hill-top 
that she may not see the burning of Airlie ; 
the passage is of course corrupt. In A g 7 
she more sensibly asks that her face may not 
be turned that way. In a 5, 6, b 5, 6, the 
rational request is made that she may be 
taken to some dark dowey glen * to avoid the 
sight ; but Argyle leads her " down to the top 
of the town," and bids her look at the plunder- 
ing, a ; sets her upon a bonnie knowe-tap, and 

Isla and the Melgum." Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, 
II, 296. 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIELIB 



55 



bids her look at Airlie fa'ing, b. D 7, 8, goes 
a step further. The lady asks that she may 
be thrown over the castle- wall rather than see 
the plundering ; Argyle lifts her up ' sae rarely ' 
and throws her over, and she never saw it. 

In C a 8 Argyle would have Lord Airlie 
informed that one kiss from his lady would 
have saved all the plundering. In D 5 he 
tells Lady Ogilvie that if she had surrendered 
on the first demand there would have been 
no plundering ; and this assurance he repeats 
to ' Captain ' Ogilvie, whom he meets on his 
way home. 

A b 2, D 1, 2, represent Argyle to be act- 
ing under the orders of Montrose, or in con- 
cert with him. 

A piece in five or six stanzas which ap- 
pears, with variations, in Cromek's Remains, 
p. 195, Hogg's Jacobite Relics, II, 151, Cun- 
ningham's Songs of Scotland, III, 218, under 
the caption of ' Young Airly ' (the title of 
C b also in Cromek), moves forward the burn- 
ing of Airlie to " the 45 ; " not very strangely 
(if there is anything traditional in these 
verses), when we consider the prominence of 
the younger Lord Ogilvie and his wife among 
the supporters of Charles Edward. (The first 
three of Cromek's stanzas are transcribed 
into Campbell MSS, I, 187.) No doubt the 
Charlie and Prince Charlie of some versions 
of our ballad were understood by the reciters 
to be the Young Chevalier. 

The Committee of Estates, June 12, 1640, 
gave commission to the Earl of Argyle to rise 
in arms against certain people, among whom 
was the Earl of Airlie, as enemies to religion 
and unnatural to their country, and to pursue 
them with fire and sword until they should 
be brought to their duty or else utterly sub- 
dued and rooted out. The Earl of Airlie had 
gone to England, fearing lest he should be 
pressed to subscribe the Covenant, and had 

* Spalding's Memorials, ed. 1850, 1, 290-2 ; Gordon's His- 
tory of Scots Affairs, HI, 164 f.; also, II, 234; Gardiner, 
History of England, 1603-1642, ed., 1884, IX, 167 f. Both 
Spalding and Gordon say that Montrose besieged Airlie but 
did not succeed in taking it. Argyle, continues Spalding, 
" raises an army of about 5,000 men and marches towards 
Airlie ; but the Lord Ogilvie, hearing of his coming with 
such irresistible forces, resolves to fly and leave the house 
manless, and so for their own safety they wisely fled. But 



left his house to the keeping of his eldest son, 
Lord Ogilvie. Montrose, who had signed 
the commission as one of the Committee, but 
was not inclined to so strenuous proceedings, 
invested Airlie, forced a surrender, and put 
a garrison in the place to hold it for the 
" public." Argyle did not interpret his com- 
mission in this mild way. He took Airlie in 
hand in the beginning of July, and caused 
both this house and that of Forthar, belonging 
to Lord Ogilvie, to be pillaged, burned, and J^L "^ 
demolished. Thereafter he fell upon the lands 
both of the proprietor and his tenantry, and 
carried off or destroyed " their whole goods, 
gear, corns, cattle, horse, nolt, sheep," and left 
nothing but bare bounds. 

According to one writer. Lady Ogilvie was 
residing at Forthar, and, being big with child, 
asked leave of Argyle to stay till she was 
brought to bed ; but this was not allowed, and 
she was put out, though she knew not whither 
to go. By another account, Argyle accused 
Montrose of having suffered the lady to es- 
cape.* 

The ballad puts Lady Airlie in command 
of the house or castle, but none of the family 
were there at the time it was sacked. She is 
called Lady Margaret in A b 4, but her name 
was Elizabeth. The earl, James, is called the 
great Sir John in a 9. A 10 and the like 
elsewhere are applicable to the younger Lady 
Ogilvie in respect to the unborn child. Cham- 
bers says that Lady Airlie had three children 
and Lady Ogilvie but one, and "the poet 
must be wrong." " The poet," besides being 
inaccurate, does not tell the same story in all 
the versions, and this inconsistency is again 
observable in ' Geordie,' A 9, B 18, C 8, etc. 

' Gleyd Argyle ' is " generally described as 
of mean stature, with red hair and squinting 
eyes." f His morals appear to some disadvan- 
tage again in ' Geordie,' I a 23. 

Argyle most cruelly and inhumanly enters the house of 
Airlie," etc. A letter of Argyle's to one Dugald Campbell j^ ^^i 
(dated July, 1640) would seem to show that he was not there ^ 
in person during the razing and burning. " You need not 
let know," says Argyle, " that ye have directions from me 
to fire it." Notes and Queries, Fifth Series, IX, 364 ; re- 
printed by Gardiner, 
t Napier, Montrose and the Covenanters, 1838, 1, 129. 



^6 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



a. Sharpe'a Ballad Book, p. 59, No 20, 1823. b. Finlay's 
Ballads, II, 25, 1808, from two recited copies and "one 
printed about twenty years ago on a single sheet." c. Skene 
MS., pp. 28, 54, from recitation in the north of Scotland, 
1802-3. d. Campbell MSS, II, 113, probably from a stall- 
copy, e, f. Aberdeen stall copies, " printed for the book- 
sellers." g. Hogg's Jacobite Relics, II, 152, No 76, " Cromek 
and a street ballad collated, 1821 ." h. Kinloch MSS, VI, 5, 
one stanza, taken down from an old woman's recitation by 
J. Robertson. 

1 It fell on a day, and a bonny simmer day, 

When green grew aits and barley, 
That there fell out a great dispute 
Between Argyll and Airlie. 

2 Argyll has raised an hunder men. 

An hunder hamessd rarely, 
And he 's awa by the back of Dunkell, 
To plunder the castle of Airlie. 

3 Lady OgUvie looks oer her bower-window. 

And oh, but she looks weary ! 
And there she spy'd the great Argyll, 

Come to plunder the bonny house of Airlie. 

4 * Come down, come down, my Lady Ogilvie, 

Come down, and kiss me fairly : ' 
* O I winna kiss the fause Argyll, 

If he should na leave a standing stane in 
Airlie.' 



5 He hath taken her by the left shoulder, 

Says, Dame where lies thy dowry ? 
' O it 's east and west yon wan water side, 
And it 's down by the banks of the Airlie.' 

6 They hae sought it up, they hae sought it down, 

They hae sought it maist severely. 
Till they fand it in the fair plumb-tree 

That shines on the bowling-green of Airlie. 

7 He hath taken her by the middle sae small. 

And but she grat sairly ! 
And laid her down by the bonny burn-side. 
Till they plundered the castle of Airlie. 

8 * Gif my gude lord war here this night, 

As he is with King Charlie, 
Neither you, nor ony ither Scottish lord, 
Durst avow to the plundering of Airlie. 

9 * Gif my gude lord war now at hame, 

As he is with his king, 
There durst nae a Campbell in a' Argyll 
Set fit on Airlie green. 

10 ' Ten bonny sons I have bom unto him, 
The eleventh neer saw his daddy ; 
But though I had an hundred mair, 
I 'd gie them a' to King Charlie.' 



B 



Kinloch MSS, V, 273. 

1 It fell on a day, a clear summer day, 

When the corn grew green and bonny, 
That there was a combat did fall out 

'Tween Argyle and the bonny house of Airly. 

2 Argyle he did raise five hundred men, 

Five hundred men, so many, 
And he did place them by Dunkeld, 

Bade them shoot at the bonny house of Airly. 

3 The lady looked over her own castle-wa, 

And oh, but she looked weary ! 
And there she espied the gleyed Argyle, 
Come to plunder the bonny house of Airly. 



4 * Come down the stair now, Madam Ogilvie, 

And let me kiss thee kindly ; 
Or I vow and I swear, by the sword that I 

wear. 
That I winna leave a standing stone at 

Airly.' 

5 * O how can I come down the stair, 

And how can I kiss thee kindly. 
Since you vow and you swear, by the sword 

that you wear, 
That you winna leave a standing stone on 

Airly?' 

6 * Come down the stair then. Madam Ogilvie, 

And let me see thy dowry ; ' 
' O 't is east and it is west, and 't is down by 
yon burn-side, 
And it stands at the planting sae bonny. 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIBLIE 



57 



*■ But if my brave lord had been at hame this 
day, 

As he is wi Prince Charlie, 
There durst na a Campbell in all Scotland 

Set a foot on the bowling-green of Airly 



8 ' O I hae born him seven, seven sons, 
And an eighth neer saw his daddy, 
And tho I were to bear him as many more, 
They should a' carry arms for Prince 
Charlie.' 



a. Kinloch MSS, V, 205, recited by John Rae. b. Cro- 
mek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 226, 
1810. c. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, II, 2. d. Christie's 
Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 276, "from the recitation of a 
relative." 

1 It fell on a day, on a bonny summer day, 

When the corn grew green and yellow, 
That there fell out a great dispute 
Between Argyle and Airley. 

2 The great Argyle raised five hundred men, 

Five hundred men and many, 
And he has led them down by the bonny 

Dunkeld, 
Bade them shoot at the bonny house of 

Airley. 

3 The lady was looking oer her castle-wa, 

And O but she looked weary ! 
And there she spied the great Argyle, 

Came to plunder the bonny house of Airley. 

4 * Come down stairs now. Madam,' he says, 

* Now come down and kiss me fairly ; ' 
' I '11 neither come down nor kiss you,' she says, 
' Tho you should na leave a standing stane 
in Airley.' 

6 * I ask but one favour of you, Argyle, 
And I hope you '11 grant me fairly 



To tak me to some dark dowey glen, 

That I may na see the plundering of Au'ley.* 

6 He has taen her by the left shoulder, 

And but she looked weary ! 
And he has led her down to the top of the town, 
Bade her look at the plundering of Airley. 

7 ' Fire on, fire on, my merry men all, 

And see that ye fire clearly ; 
For I vow and I swear by the broad sword I 
wear 

That I winna leave a standing stane in Air- 
ley. 

8 * You may tell it to your lord,' he says, 

' You may tell it to Lord Airley, 
That one kiss o his gay lady 

Wad hae sav'd all the plundering of Airley.* 

9 ' If the great Sir John had been but at hame. 

As he is this night wi Prince Charlie, 
Neither Argyle nor no Scottish lord 

Durst hae plundered the bonny house of 
Airley. 

10 * Seven, seven sons hae I born unto him, 
And the eight neer saw his dady. 
And altho I were to have a hundred more. 
The should a' draw their sword for Prince 
Charhe.' 



Kinloch MSS, V, 106, in the handwriting of James Beat- 
tie, and from the recitation of Elizabeth Beattie. 

1 O GLEYD Argyll has written to Montrose 
To see gin the fields they were fairly, 
And to see whether he showZd stay at hame, 
' Or come to plunder bonnie Airly. 



2 Then great Montrose has written to Argyll 

And that the fields they were fairly. 
And not to keep his men at hame, 

But to come and plunder bonnie Airly. 

3 The lady was looking oer her castle-wa. 

She was carrying her courage sae rarely, 



58 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



And there she spied him gleyd Arguill, 
Was coming for to plunder bonnie Airly. 

4 ' Wae be to ye, gleyd Argyll ! 

And are ye there sae rarely ? 
Ye might hae kept your men at hame, 
And not come to plunder bonnie Airly.' 

5 * And wae be to ye, Lady Ogilvie ! 

And are ye there sae rarely ? 
Gin ye had bowed when first I bade, 
I never wad hae plunderd bonnie Airly.* 

6 ' But gin my guid lord had been at hame, 

As he is wi Prince Charlie, 
There durst not a rebel on a' Scotch ground 
Set a foot on the bonnie green of Airly. 

7 * But ye '11 tak me by the milk-white hand, 

And ye '11 lift me up sae rarely. 
And ye '11 throw me outoure my [ain] castle- 
wa, 
Let me neuer see the plundering of Airly.' 



8 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 

And he 's lifted her up sae rarely, 
And he 's thrown her outoure her ain castle-wa, 
And she neuer saw the plundering of Airly. 

9 Now gleyd Argyll he has gane hame, 

Awa frae the plundering of Airly, 
And there he has met him Captain Ogilvie, 
Coming over the mountains sae rarely. 

10 ' O wae be to ye, gleyd Argyll ! 

And are you there sae rarely ? 
Ye might hae kept your men at hame. 
And no gane to plunder bonnie Airly.' 

11 * wae be to ye. Captain Ogilvie ! 

And are you there sae rarely ? 
Gin ye wad hae bowed when first I bade, 
I neer wad hae plunderd bonnie Airly.' 

12 * But gin I had my lady gay, 

Bot and my sister Mary, 
One fig I wad na gie for ye a', 

Nor yet for the plundering of Airly.' 



A. b. 1^ When the corn grew green and yellow. 
2^'^. The Duke o Montrose has written to Ar- 

gyle To come in the morning early. 
2'. An lead in his men by. 
2*. the bonnie house o Airly. 
3^ The lady lookd oer her window sae hie. 
4}. down Lady Margaret he says. 

* Or before the morning clear day light, 

I 'U no leave a standing stane in Airly.* 

* I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle, 

I wadna kiss thee fairly, 
I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle, 

Gin you shoudna leave a standing stane in 
Airly.' 

5^< by the middle sae sma. 

5'. Says, Lady, where is your drury ? 

6''*. It 's up and down by the bonnie burn-side, 

Amang the planting of Airly. 
6^ They sought it late and early. 
6*. And found : bonnie balm-tree. 



7\ by the left shoulder. 

7*. And led : to yon green bank. 

8^ (10^). lord had been at hame. 

8^ (10"). As this night he is wi C 

8' (10*). There durst na a Campbell in a' the 
west. 

8* (10*). Hae plundered the bonnie house. 

9. Wanting. 

10^ (9^). O it 's I hae seven braw sons, she says. 

lO** (9^^). And the youngest. 

10' (9*). had as mony mae. 

10* (9*). to Charlie. 
c. 1-5^ are repeated at p. 54, with some differ- 
ences. 

1*. fell about a [the] Lammass time. 

1^. corn [the corn] grew green and yellow. 

2^ has gathered three bunder. 

2*. Three hunder men and mair O. 

2'. is on to.' 2*. the bonnie house o A. 

3^. The lady lookit oure the castle-wa. 

3*. she was sorry. 

3*. Whan she saw gleyd Argyle an his [300] 
men. 

4^ Come down the stair. Lady Airly [he says]. 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



69 



4'. An it 's ye maun kiss [An kiss me fairly]. 
4*. I wad na kiss ye, gleyd Argyll. 
4*. Atho [Tho] ye leave na. 
5^. Come down the stair, Lady Airly, he says. 
5^. An tell whar. 5*. Up and down the bonnie. 
6*. And by the bonnie bowling-green o. 
6. Wanting. V. took : the milk-white hand. 
7*. And led her fairly. 
7*. Up an down the bonnie water-side. 
7*. the bonnie house o Airly. 
8^ But an : were at hame ( = 9^). 
8*. awa wi Charley. 
8*. The best Campbell in a' your kin. 
8*. Durst na plunder the b. h. o. A. 
9. Wanting. 

10^ (7^). Seven sons have I bom, she says. 
10* (7^). The eight : its. 
10^ (7^). Altho: as many mare. 
10* (7*). a' to fight for Charley. 
d. 1^. When corn grew green. 2^. has hired. 
2\ A hundred men and mairly. 2^ to the. 
2*. the b. h. of A. 

3^ The lady lookit over her window. 
3*. lookit waely. 3^. she saw. 3*. Coming. 
4*. I wadna kiss the great. 4*. Tho you. 
5^ by the milk-white hand. 
5^. Lady, where 's your. 
6'. It 's up and down yon bonny burn-side. 
5*. It shines in the bowling-green of A. 
6*. sought it late and early. 
6^ They've found : the bonny cherry-tree. 
6*. That grows in. 
Between 6 and 7 : 

There is ae favour I ask of thee, 
I beg but ye '11 grant it fairly : 

That ye will take me to yon high hill-top. 
That I maunna see the burning of Airly. 

7*. by the left shoulder. 1^. lookit queerly. 
V. he 's led. 7*. the b. h. of A. 
Between 7 and 8 : 

He 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 

He 's led her right and fairly ; 
He 's led her to yon high hill-top. 

Till they 've burned the bonny house of Airly. 

8". away wi Prince Charlie. 

8'. The great Argyle and a' his men. 

8*. Wadna hae plunderd the b. h. of A. 

9. Wanting. 

10*. And if I had a hundred men. 



10*. to Prince. 

e. l**. When the corn grew green and yellow. 
2"^. A hundred men and mairly. 

2^. he has gone to. 

2*. the bonny house of Airly. 

3^ The lady looked over her window. 

2i\ looked. 3*. Coming. 

4\ down, madam, he says. 

4*. thee, great Argyle. 4*. If you. 

5^. by the middle so small. 

b^. Says, Lady, where is your. 

5'. It is up and down the bonny burn-side. 

5*. Among the plantings of A. 

6^ They sought it late and early. 

6*. And found it in the bonny palm-tree. 

7^. by the left shoulder. 

7*. she looked weary. 

7'. down on the green bank. 

7*. he plundered the b. h. of A. 

8\ O if my lord was at home: this night 

wanting. 
8^ As this night he 's wi Charlie. 
8*'*. Great Argyle and all his men Durst not 

plunder the b. h. .of A. 
9. Wanting. 

10\ 'Tis ten : unto him wanting. 
10«. But though. 10*. to Charlie. 

f. l'^. When the clans were a' wi Charlie. 
2\ has called a hundred o his men. 

2*. To come in the morning early. 

2'. And they hae gane down by. 

2*. plunder the b. h. of A. 

3^ L. 0. looked frae her window sae hie. 

3*. she grat sairly. 

3*. To see Argyle and a' his men. 

4^. down. Lady Ogilvie, he cried. 

4*'*. Or ere the morning's clear daylight I '11 

no leave a standing. 
After 4 : 

I wadna come doon, great Argyle, she cried, 

I wadna kiss thee fairly, 
I wadna come doon, false Argyle, she cried, 

Though you shouldna leave a standing stane 
in Airly. 

5-7. Wanting. 

8. But were my ain guid lord at hame. 
As he is noo wi Charlie, 
The base Argyle and a his men 

Durstna enter the bonny house o Airly. 



60 



199. THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE 



9. Wanting. 

10^. O I hae seven bonny sons, she said. 

10^. And the youngest has neer seen. 

10*. had ane as mony mae. 

10*. They 'd a' be followers o Charlie. 

After 10 this spurious stanza : 

Then Argyle and his men attacked the bonny 
ha, 

And but they plundered it fairly ! 
In spite o the tears the lady let fa, 

They burnt doon the bonny house o Airly. 

g. 1**. When the flowers were blooming rarely. 
2'. An hundred men and mairly. 
2*. the b. h. of A. 
3^ The lady lookd oer her w. 
3*. she sighd sairly. 
4^ No, I winna kiss thee. 
4*. Though ye. 
6^. by the middle sae sma. 
6'. Says wanting : Lady where is your. 
5®'*. It 's up and down by the bonny burn-side, 

Amang the plantings o Airly. 
6'. it late and early. 
6*. under the bonny palm-tree. 
6*. That stands i. After 6 (c/. A d, C 5) : 

A favour I ask of thee, Argyle, 

If ye will grant it fairly ; 
O dinna turn me wi my face 

To see the destruction of Airly ! 

The remainder ofgis taken from C b, with 
two or three slight variations. 

h. 8. An my gude lord had been at hame. 
As he 's awa wi Charlie, 
There durstna a gleyd duke in a' Argyle 
Set a coal to the bonnie house o Airlie. 

B. 6S %\ Oh. 

C. b. No reliance can he placed upon the genuine- 

ness of this copy, and a particular collation 
" is not required. 
1^''. It fell in about the Martinmas time, An 
the leaves were fa'ing early. 

4. Two stanzas, mu^h as in A b, f. 

5. But take me by the milk-white hand, 

An lead me down right hoolie, 



An set me in a dowie, dowie glen, 
That I mauna see the fall o Airly. 

6. He has taen her by the shouther-blade 

An thurst her down afore him. 
Syne set her upon a bonnie knowe-tap. 
Bad her look at Airly fa'ing. 

Here follows a stanza (6) not found elsewhere, 
no doubt Cunningham's : 

Haste ! bring to me a cup o gude wine. 

As red as ony cherrie ; 
I '11 tank the cup, an sip it up ; 

Here 's a health to bonnie Prince Charlie ! 

7. 8. Wanting : found only in a. 
9. Nearly e, f, 8. 

10^ I hae born me eleven braw sons. 
A concluding stanza may he assigned to Curir 
ningham. 

Were my gude lord but here this day. 

As he 's awa wi Charlie, 
The dearest blude o a' thy kin 

Wad sloken the lowe o Airly. 

Another copy is said in the editor's preface to 
hegin thus : 

The great Argyle raised ten thousand men, 
Eer the sun was waukening early. 

And he marched them down by the back o 
Dunkel, 
Bade them fire on the bonnie house o Airlie. 

c. Made over from a copy resembling B, C a. 

4. Two stanzas here, as in 3: kisses are 
dropped for propriety. 

5, 6. The last half of these is substantially 
preserved in o 7, 8. 

d. A blending, perhaps not accidental, of vari- 

ous copies ; mainly of A. g, C h, C o. 
1, 2. Nearly A g 1, 2. 3. Nearly o 3. 
4i'2. Nearly A g 4}'^. 
4^*. Nearly o 4*-*. 

5. Nearly a compound ofA-h (Finlay) 5 and 
c 5 : c/. B 5. 

6. Cf. b 4 (5 above), c 7. 7. Nearly c 8. 

8. b 6 altered. The stanza cited by Christie 
at p. 296 is the spurious conclusion of c. 



200 THE GYPSY LADDIE 



ai 



200 
THE GYPSY LADDIE 



i 



A. *Joliny Faa, the Gypsy Laddie,' Ramsay's Tea- 
Table Miscellany, vol. iv, 1740. Here from the 
edition of 1763, p. 427. 

B. a. The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscel- 
lany (vol, Ixxx of the Scots Magazine), November, 
1817, p. 309. b. A fragment recited by Miss Fanny 
Walker, of Mount Pleasant, near Newburgh-on-Tay. 

C. 'Davie Faw,' Motherwell's MS., p. 381 ; 'Gypsie 
Davy,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827, p. 360. 

D. 'The Egyptian Laddy,' Kinloch MSB, V, 331. 

B. ' The Gypsie Laddie,' Mactaggart's Scottish Gal- 
lovidian Encyclopedia, 1824, p. 284. 

P. 'Johnny Faa, the Gypsey Laddie,' The Songs of 



England and Scotland [P. Cunningham], London, 
1835, II, 346. 

G. a. ' The Gypsie Loddy,' a broadside, Roxburghe 
Ballads, III, 685. b. A recent stall-copy, Catnach, 
2 Monmouth Court, Seven Dials. 

H. ' The Gipsy Laddie,' Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited 
by Charlotte Sophia Burne, p. 550. 

I. Communicated by Miss Margaret Reburn, as sung 
in County Meath, Ireland, about 1860. 

J. a. ' The Gipsey Davy,' from Stockbridge, Massa- 
chusetts, b. From a lady born in Maine. 

K. 'Lord Garrick,' a, b, communicated by ladies of 
New York. 



The English ballad, though derived from 
the Scottish, may perhaps have been printed 
earlier. A conjectural date of 1720 is given, 
with hesitation, to G a, in the catalogue of 
the British Museum. 

The Scottish ballad appears to have been 
first printed in the fourth volume of the Tea- 
Table Miscellany, 1740, but no copy of that 
edition has been recovered. From the Tea- 
Table Miscellany it was repeated, with varia- 
tions, some traditional, some arbitrary, in : 
Herd's Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 
1769, 'Gypsie Laddie,' p. 88, ed. 1776, II, 
64; The Fond Mother's Garland, not dated, 
but earlier than 1776 ; Pinkerton's Select 
Scotish Ballads, 1783, I, 67 ; Johnson's Mu- 
seum, * Johny Faa, or. The Gypsie Laddie,' 
No 181, p. 189 ; Ritson's Scotish Songs, 1794, 
II, 176 ; and in this century, Cromek's Select 
Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 15; Cunningham's 
Songs of Scotland, 1825, II, 175. A tran- 
script in the Campbell MSS, ' The Gypsies,' 
1, 16, is from Pinkerton. 

" The people in Ayrshire begin this song, 

* The gypsies cam to my lord Cassilis' yett* 



They have a great many more stanzas . . . 
than I ever yet saw in any printed." Burns, 
in Cromek's Reliques, 1809, p. 161. (So 
Sharpe, in the Musical Museum, 1853, IV, 217, 
but perhaps repeating Burns.) B, from Gal- 
loway, has eight more stanzas than A, and B, 
also from Galloway, fourteen more, but quite 
eight of the last are entirely untraditional,* 
and the hand of the editor is frequently to be 
recognized elsewhere. 

Finlay, Scottish Ballads, 1808, II, 39, in- 
serted two stanzas after A 2, the first of 
which is nearly the same as 6, and the second 
as B 3, C 3. The variations of his text, and 
others in his notes, are given under A. Kin- 
loch MSS, V, 299 ; Chambers, Scottish Bal- 
lads, 1829, p. 143 ; Aytoun, 1859, I, 187, re- 
peat Finlay, with a few slight changes. The 
Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire, I, 9, follows 
Chambers. 

The copy in Smith's Scotish Minstrel, III, 
90, is derived from B a, but has readings of 

* In 18-21 the lady makes her lord not only forgive the 
abettors of Jockie Faa, whom he was about to hang, but 
present ten guineas to Jockie, whom he was minded to bum. 



62 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



other texts, and is of no authority. That in 
Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1868, 
II, 185, is B a with changes. Ten stanzas 
in a manuscript of Scottish songs and ballads, 
copied 1840 or 1850 by a granddaughter of 
Lord Woodhouselee, p. 46, are from B a. This 
may be true also of B b, which, however, has 
not Cassilis in 1^. . 

C is from a little further north, from Ren- 
frewshire ; D from Aberdeenshire. F is from 
the north of England, and resembles O. The 
final stanza of Q a is cited by Ritson, Scotish 
Songs, II, 177, 1794. * The Rare Ballad of 
Johnnie Faa and the Countess o Cassilis,' 
Sheldon's Minstrelsy of the English Border, 
p. 326, which the editor had " heard sung 
) repeatedly by Willie Faa," and of which he 
( " endeavored to preserve as much as recollec- 
tion would allow," has the eleven stanzas of 
the English broadside, and twelve more of 
which Sheldon must have been unable to rec- 
) ollect anything. H-K are all varieties of the 
broadside. 

The Rev. S. Baring-Gould has most obli- 
gingly sent me a ballad, taken down by him 
from the singing of an illiterate hedger in 
North Devon, in which ' The Gypsy Laddie,' 
recomposed (mostly with middle rhyme in the 
third verse, as in A 1, 8), forms the sequel to 
a story of an earl marrying a very reluctant 
gypsy maid. When the vagrant who has 
been made a lady against nature hears some 
of her tribe singing at the castle-gate, the pas- 
sion for a roving life returns, and she deserts 
her noble partner, who pursues her, and, not 
being able to induce her to return to him, 
smites her " lily-white " throat with his 
sword. This little romance, retouched and 
repaired, is printed as No 50 of Songs and 
Ballads of the West, now publishing by Ba- 
ring-Gould and Sheppard. Mr Baring-Gould 
has also given me a defective copy of the 
second part of * The Gipsy Countess ' (exhib- 
iting many variations), which he obtained 
from an old shoemaker of Tiverton. 

* " Corse field may very possibly be Corse, the ancient 
seat of the Forbeses of Craigievar, from the close vicinity 
of which the reciter of this ballad came." Barton, in Kin- 
loch MSS, V, 334. 

t Recalling Carrick, of which Maybole is the capital. 



Among the Percy papers there is a set of 
ballads made over by the Bishop, which may 
have been intended for the contemplated ex- 
tension of his Reliques. ' The Gipsie Laddie,' 
in eighteen stanzas, and not quite finished, is 
one of these. After seven stanzas of A, not 
much altered, the husband ineffectually pur- 
sues the lady, who adopts the gipsy trade, 
with her reid cheek stained wi yallow. Seven 
years pass, during which the laird has taken 
another wife. At Yule a wretched carline 
begs charity at his gate, who, upon question- 
ing, reveals that she had been a lady gay, with 
a comely marrow, but had proved false and 
ruined herself. 

A. Gypsies sing so sweetly at our lord's 
gate as to entice his lady to come down ; as 
soon as she shows herself, they cast the glam- 
our on her (so B-P, G b). She gives herself 
over to the chief gypsy, Johny Faa by name, 
without reserve of any description. Her lord, 
upon returning and finding her gone, sets out 
to recover her, and captures and hangs fifteen 
gypsies. (It is extremely likely that this 
version has lost several stanzas.) 

Our lord, unnamed in A, is Lord Cassilis in 
B, C, F (so Burns, and Johnson's Museum). 
Cassilis has become Cassle, Castle in B, Q, 
Corsefield * in D, Cashan in Irish I, Garrick f 
in American K. The Gypsy Laddie is again 
Johnie, Jockie, Faa in B, D, E ; but Gipsy / 
Davy in C (where Lady Cassilis is twice 
called Jeanie Faw), and in American lab; 
and seems to be called both Johnnie Faw and 
Gypsie Geordie in F. The lady gives the 
gypsies the good wheat bread B, E (beer and 
wine, Finlay) ; they give her (sweetmeats, 
C) ginger, nutmeg, or both, and she gives 
them the ring (rings) off her finger (fingers), 
B, C, B, G, I, (and Finlay). 

B a has a full story from this point on. 
The gypsy asks the lady to go with him, and 
swears that her lord shall never come near 
her. The lady changes her silk mantle for a 

" The family of Cassilis, in early times, had been so powerful 
that the head of it was generally termed the King of Car- 
rick : " Sharpe. But Garrick may have come in in some 
other way. 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



63 



plaid, and is ready to travel the world over 
with the gypsy, B a 5, A 3, C 4, D 3, E 4, 
P 4, (B a 6 is spurious). They wander high 
and low till they come to an old barn, and by 
this time she is weary. The lady begins to 
find out what she has undertaken : last night 
she lay with her lord in a well-made bed, now 
she must lie in an old barn, B a 7, 8, A 4, C 6, 
D 7, P 5 (reeky kill B 8, on a straw bed H 7, 
in the ash-corner I 6). The gypsy bids her 
hold her peace, her lord shall never come near 
her. They wander high and low till they 
come to a wan water, and by this time she is 
weary. Oft has she ridden that wan water 
with her lord ; now she must set in her white 
feet and wade, B a 11, C 5, D 5, 6, B 7, 
(and carry the gipsie laddie, B a 11, badly ; 
follow, B b). The lord comes home, is told 
that his lady is gone off with the gypsy, and 
immediately sets out to bring her back (so 
all). He finds her at the wan water, B a 14 ; 
in Abbey Dale, drinking wi Gipsey Davy, 
C 10 ; near Strabogie, drinking wi Gypsie 
Geordie, P 10 ; * by the riverside, J a 4 ; at 
the Misty Mount, K 5, 6. He asks her ten- 
derly if she will go home, B a 15, B 15, P 12, 
he will shut her up so securely that no man 
shall come near, B a 15, B 15 ; he expostulates 
with her, more or less reproachfully, C 11, 
P 11, G 9, H 5, J 5. She will not go home; 
as she has brewed, so will she drink, B a 16, 
G 10; she cares not for houses or lands or 
babes (baby) G 10, H 6, J 6. But she swears 
to him that she is as free of the gypsies as 
when her mother bare her, B a 17, B 16. 

Fifteen gypsies are hanged, or lose their 
lives, A 10, B 18, D 14 ; sixteen, all sons of 
one mother, C 12, 13 ; seven, P 13, G 11, 
(cf.Il).t 

D 8-11 is ridiculously perverted in the in- 
terest of morals : compare B a 17, B 16. ' I 
swear that my hand shall never go near thee,' 
D 8, is transferred to the husband in I 5 : 'A 
hand I '11 neer lay on you ' (in the way of cor- 
rection). 

In G 4 the lady, in place of exchanging her 

* P 7, if it belongs to the countess, gives her an unlady- 
like taste for brandy, 
t " There is indeed a stanza of no merit, which, in some 



silk mantle for a plaidie, pulls off her high- 
heeled shoes, of Spanish leather, and puts on 
Highland brogues. In I 7 gypsies take off her 
high-heeled shoes, and she puts on Lowland 
brogues. The high-heeled shoes, to be sure, 
are not adapted to following the Gypsy Lad- 
die, but light may perhaps be derived from C 
12, where the gypsies ' drink her stockings and 
her shoon.' In K these high-heeled shoes 
of Spanish leather are wrongly transferred to 
Lord Garrick in the copy as delivered, but 
have been restored to the lady. 

It is not said (except in the spurious por- 
tions of B) that the lady was carried back by 
her husband, but this may perhaps be inferred 
from his hanging the gypsies. In D and K 
we are left uncertain as to her disposition, 
which is elsewhere, for the most part, to stick 
to the gypsy. J, a copy of very slight author- 
ity, makes the lord marry again within six 
months of his wife's elopement. 

The earliest edition of the ballad styles the 
gypsy Johny Faa, but gives no clew to the 
fair lady. Johnny Faa was a prominent and \/ 
frequent name among the gypsies. Johnne 
Faw's right and title as lord and earl of Little 
Egypt were recognized by James V in a docu- 
ment under the Privy Seal, February 15, ^ 
1540, and we learn from this paper that, even 
before this date, letters had been issued to the 
king's officers, enjoining them to assist Johnne 
Faw " in execution of justice upon his com- 
pany and folks, conform to the laws of Egypt, 
and in punishing of all them that rebels 
against him." But in the next year, by an 
act of the Lords of Council, June 6, Egyptians v ' ^ 
are ordered to quit the realm within thirty 
days on pain of death, notwithstanding any 
other letters or privileges granted them by the 
king, his grace having discharged the same. 
The gypsies were expelled from Scotland by ^ 
act of Parliament in 1609. Johnne, alia» 
Willie, Faa, with three others of the name, 
remaining notwithstanding, were sentenced to 
be hanged, 1611, July 31. In 1615, January ^ 
25, a man was delated for harboring of Egyp- 

copies, concludes the ballad, and states that eight of the 
gypsies were hanged at Carlisle, and the rest at the Border : " 
Finlay, U. 43. 



64 



200. THE GYPSY LADJ>IE 



tians, " specially of Johnne Fall, a notorious 
Egyptian and chieftain of that unhappy sort 
of people." In 1616, July 24, Johnne Faa, 
Egyptian, his son, and two others were con- 
demned to be hanged for contemptuous re- 
pairing to the country and abiding therein. 

yj / Finally, in 1624, January 24, Captain Johnne 
Faa and seven others were sentenced to be 
hanged for the same offence, and on the follow- 
ing 29th Helen Faa, relict of the late Captain 
Johnne Faa, with ten other women, was sen- 
tenced to be drowned, but execution was stayed. 
^ Eight men were executed, but the rest, " being 
either children and of less-age and women 
with child or giving suck to children," were, 
after imprisonment, banished the country 
under pain of death, to be inflicted without 
further process should they be found within 
the kingdom after a day fixed.* The exe- 
cution of the notorious Egyptian and chieftain 
Johnny Faa must have made a considerable 

f. {. impression, and it is presumable that this 
ballad may have arisen not long after. 
Whether this were so or not, Johnny Faa ac- 
quired popular fame, and became a personage 
to whom any adventure might plausibly be 
imputed. It is said that he has even been 
foisted into 'The Douglas Tragedy' ('Earl 
Brand '), and Scott had a copy of ' Captain 
Car ' in which, as in P, G, of that ballad, the 
scene was transferred to Ayrshire, and the in- 
cendiary was called Johnny Faa.f 

Toward the end of the last century we 

/ I begin to hear that the people in Ayrshire 

make the wife of the Earl of Cassilis the 

1 heroine of the ballad. This name, under 'the 



instruction of Burns, was adopted into the 
copy in Johnson's Museum (which, as to the 
rest, is Ramsay's), and in the index to the 
second volume of the Museum, 1788, we 
read, "neighboring tradition strongly vouches 
for the truth of this story." After this we 
get the tradition in full, of course with con- 
siderable variety in the details, and sometimes 
with criticism, sometimes without. \ 

The main points in the traditional story are 
that John, sixth earl of Cassilis, married, for 
his first wife. Lady Jean Hamilton, whose 
affections were preengaged to one Sir John 
Faa, of Dunbar. Several years after, when 
Lady Cassilis had become the mother of two 
children, § Sir John Faa took the opportunity 
of the earl's absence from home (while Lord 
Cassilis was attending the Westminster As- 
sembly, say some) to present himself at the 
castle, accompanied by a band of gypsies and 
himself disguised as a gypsy, and induced his 
old love to elope with him. But the earl re- 
turned in the nick of time, went in pursuit, 
captured the whole party, or all but one,|| 
who is supposed to tell the story, and hanged 
them on the dule tree, " a most umbrageous 
plane, which yet flourishes upon a mound in 
front of the castle gate." The fugitive wife 
was banished from board and bed, and con- 
fined for life in a tower at Maybole, built for 
the purpose. " Eight heads carved in stone 
below one of the turrets are said to be the 
effigies of so many of the gypsies." ^ The 
ford by which the lady and her lover crossed 
the River Doon is still called The Gypsies' 
Steps. 



* Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, III, 201, 307 f., 397-9, 559- 
62, 592-94 ; Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, IV, 440. 

t Sharpe's Ballad Book, ed. Laing, 1880, pp. 142, 154. 
I have unluckily lost my voucher for Johnny Faa's figuring 
in ' The Douglas Tragedy.' 

t Finlay, II, 35 ; The Scots Magazine, LXXX, 306, and 
the Musical Museum, 1853, IV, *217, Sharps; Chambers, 
Scottish Ballads, p. 143 ; The New Statistical Account of 
Scotland, V, 497 ; Paterson, The Ballads and Songs of Ayr- 
shire, I, 10; Maidment, Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1868, 
II, 179. 

§ She had four children according to the Historical Ac- 
count of the Noble Family of Kennedy, Edinburgh, 1849, 
p. 44. 

II ' We were a' put down but ane ' first appears in Herd, 
1769. 



If These eight heads would correspond very neatly to the 
number of gypsies executed in 1624. But in the circum- 
stantial account given by Chambers we are told that the 
house belonging to the family at Maybole was fitted for the 
countess's reception "by the addition of a fine projecting 
stair-case, upon which were carved heads representing those 
of her lover and his band. . . . The efligies of the gypsies 
are very minute, being subservient to the decoration of a fine 
triple window at the top of the stair-case, and stuck upon 
the tops and bottoms of a series of little pilasters which 
adorn that part of the building. The head of Johnie Faa 
himself is distinct from the rest, larger, and more lachry- 
mose in the expression of the features. iSome windows in 
the upper flat of Cassilis Cattle are similarly adorned ; but 
regarding them tradition is silent" 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



65 



Several accounts put the abduction at the 
time when the Earl of Cassilis was attending 
the Assembly of Divines at Westminster. 
This was in September, 1643. It is now 
known that Lady Cassilis died in December, 
1642. What is much more important, it is 
known from two letters written by the earl 
immediately after her death that nothing 
could have occurred of a nature to alienate 
his affection, for in the one he speaks of her 
as a " dear friend " and " beloved yoke-fel- 
low," and in the other as his " dear bed-fel- 
low." * 

" Seldom, when stripped of extraneous mat- 
ter, has tradition been better supported than 



it has been in the case of Johnie Faa and the ) 
Countess of Cassilis : " Maidment, Scotish ^ 
Ballads, 1868, II, 184. In a sense not in- ) 
tended, this is quite true ; most of the tradi- ' 
tions which have grown out of ballads have as ( 
slight a foundation as this. The connection ' 
of the ballad with the Cassilis family (as 
Mr Macmath has suggested to me) may possi- 
bly have arisen from the first line of some 
copy reading, ' The gypsies came to the castle- 
gate.' As P 1^ has perverted Earl of Cassilis 
to Earl of Castle, so Castle may have been cor- 
rupted into Cassilis.f 

Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 28, trans- - 
lates freely eight stanzas from Aytoun. 



Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, vol. iv, 1740. 
from the Loudon edition of 1763, p. 427. 



Here 



1 The gypsies came to our good lord's gate, 

And wow but they sang sweetly ! 
They sang sae sweet and sae very compleat 
That down came the fair lady. 

2 And she came tripping down the stair, 

And a' her maids before her ; 
As soon as they saw her well-far'd face, 
They coost the glamer oer her. 

3 * Gae tak f rae me this gay mantile, 

And bring to me a plaidie ; 
For if kith and kin and a' had sworn, 
I '11 follow the gypsie laddie. 

4 ' Yestreen I lay in a well-made bed, 

And my good lord beside me ; 

* Sharp, in Johnson's Museum, 1853, IV, 218*; Pater- 
son, in Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire, 1, 13. It is also clear 
from these letters that the countess was a sober and religious 
woman. Some minor diflSculties which attend the supposi- 
tion of this lady's absconding with Johnny Faa, or any 
gypsy, are barely worth mentioning. At the time when 
Johnny Faa was put down, in 1624, the countess was seven- 
teen years old, and yet she is made the mother of two chil- 
dren. If we shift the elopement to the other end of her life, 
there was then (so severe had been the measures taken with 
these limmers) perhaps not a gypsy left in Scotland. See 
Aytoun, 1859, I, 186. 
VOL. IV. 9 



This night I '11 ly in a tenant's bam, 
Whatever shall betide me.' 

6 * Come to your bed,' says Johny Faa, 
' Oh come to your bed, my deary ; 
For I vow and I swear, by the hilt of my 
sword, 
That your lord shall nae mair come near ye.' 

6 * I '11 go to bed to my Johny Faa, 

I '11 go to bed to my deary ; 
For I vow and I swear, by what past yestreen, 
That my lord shall nae mair come near me. 

7 ' I '11 mak a hap to my Johnny Faa, 

And I '11 mak a hap to my deary ; 
And he 's get a' the coat gaes round, 

And my lord shall nae mair come near 
me.' 

8 And when our lord came hame at een, 

And speir'd for his fair lady, 

t John, seventh earl of Cassilis, son of the sixth earl by a 
second wife, married for his second wife, some time before 
1700, Mary Foix (a name also spelt Faux) : Crawford's 
Peerage, 1716, p. 76, corrected by the Decreets of the Lords 
of Council and Session, vol. 145, div. 2. May this explain 
the Faws coming to be associated in the popular mind with 
a countess of Cassilis 1 (A suggestion of Mr Macmath 's.) 
The lady is even called Jeanie Faw in C 7, 11, first by the 
gypsy, then by her husband. The seventh earl had ftw chil- 
dren by Mary Foix. 



66 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



The tane she cry'd, and the other reply'd, 
* She 's away with the gypsie laddie.' 

9 ' Gae saddle to me the black, black steed, 
Gae saddle and make him ready ; 
Before that I either eat or sleep, 
I '11 gae seek my fair lady.' 



10 And we were fifteen well-made men. 
Altho we were nae bonny ; 
And we were a' put down for ane^ 
A fair young wanton lady. 



B 



a. The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, 
being a new series of the Scots Magazine (vol. Ixxx of the 
entire work), November, 1817, p. 309, communicated by 
Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, as taken down from the recita- 
tion of a peasant in Galloway, b. A fragment recited by 
Miss Fanny Walker, of Mount Pleasant, near Newburgh-on- 
Tay, as communicated by Mr Alexander Laing, 1873. 

1 The gypsies they came to my lord Cassilis' yett, 

And O but they sang bonnie ! 
They sang sae sweet and sae complete 
That down came our fair ladie. 

2 She came tripping down the stairs. 

And all her maids before her ; 
As soon as they saw her weel-far'd face, 
They coost their glamourie owxe her. 

3 She gave to them the good wheat bread. 

And they gave her the ginger ; 
But she gave them a far better thing, 
The gold ring ofE her finger. 

4 ' Will ye go with me, my hinny and my heart ? 

WUl ye go with me, my dearie ? 
And I will swear, by the staff of my spear, 
That your lord shall nae mair come near 
thee.' 

5 ' Sae take from me my silk mantel, 

And bring to me a plaidie. 
For I will travel the world owre 
Along with the gypsie laddie. 

6 * I could sail the seas with my Jockie Faa, 

I could sail the seas with my dearie ; 
I could sail the seas with my Jockie Faa, 
And with pleasure could drown with my 
dearie. 

7 They wandred high, they wandred low. 

They wandred late and early, 



Untill they came to an old tenant's-barn, 
And by this time she was weary. 

8 * Last night I lay in a weel-made bed, 

And my noble lord beside me. 
And now I must ly in an old tenant's-barn, 
And the black crew glowriug owre me.' 

9 ' O hold your tongue, my hinny and my heart, 

O hold your tongue, my dearie, 
For I will swear, by the moon and the stars, 
That thy lord shall nae mair come near 
thee.' 

10 They wandred high, they wandred low, 

They wandred late and early, 
Untill they came to that wan water, 
And by this time she was wearie. 

11 * Af ten have I rode that wan water. 

And my lord Cassilis beside me. 
And now I must set in my white feet and 
wade. 
And carry the gypsie laddie.' 

12 By and by came home this noble lord, 

And asking for his ladie, 
The one did cry, the other did reply, 

* She is gone with the gypsie laddie.* 

13 * Go saddle to me the black,' he says, 

* The brown rides never so speedie, 
And I will neither eat nor drink 

Till I bring home my ladie.' 

14 He wandred high, he wandred low, 

He wandred late and early, 

Untill he came to that wan water, 

And there he spied his ladie. 

15 * wilt thou go home, my hinny and my heart, 

O wilt thou go home, my dearie ? 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



67 



And I '11 close thee in a close room, 
Where no man shall come near thee." 

16 * I will not go home, my hinny and my heart, 
I will not go home, my dearie ; 
If I have brewn good beer, I will drink of the 
same, 
And my lord shall nae mair come near me. 



17 ' But I will swear, by the moon and the stars, 

And the sun that shines so clearly, 
That I am as free of the gypsie gang 
As the hour my mother did bear me.' 

18 They were fifteen valiant men, 

Black, but very bonny, 
And they lost all their lives for one, 
The Earl of Cassillis' ladie. 



^ 



Motherwell's MS., p. 381, from the recitation of Agnea 
Lyle, Kilbarchan, 27 July, 1825, 

1 There cam singers to Earl Cassillis' gates, 

And oh, but they sang bonnie ! 
They sang sae sweet and sae complete, 
Till down cam the earl's lady. 

2 She cam tripping down the stair, 

And all her maids before her ; 
As soon as they saw her weel-faurd face, 
They coost their glamourye owre her. 

3 They gave her o the gude sweetmeats, 

The nutmeg and the ginger, 
And she gied them a far better thing. 
Ten gold rings a£E her finger. 

4 ' Tak from me my silken cloak, 

And bring me down my plaidie ; 
For it is gude eneuch,' she said, 
* To follow a Gipsy Davy. 

5 * Yestreen I rode this water deep, 

And my gude lord beside me ; 
But this nicht I maun set in my pretty fit and 
wade, 
A wheen blackguards wading wi me. 

6 * Yestreen I lay in a fine feather-bed, 

And my gude lord beyond me ; 
But this nicht I maun lye in some cauld ten- 
ant's-barn, 
A wheen blackguards waiting on me.' 

7 * Come to thy bed, my bonny Jeanie Faw, 
Come to thy bed, my dearie. 



For I do swear, by the top o my spear, 

Thy gude lord '11 nae mair come near thee.' 

8 When her good lord cam hame at nicht. 

It was asking for his fair ladye ; 
One spak slow, and another whisperd out, 

* She 's awa wi Gipsey Davy ! ' 

9 * Come saddle to me my horse,' he said, 

* Come saddle and mak him readie ! 
For I '11 neither sleep, eat, nor drink 

Till I find out my lady.' 

10 They socht her up, they socht her doun. 

They socht her thro nations many. 
Till at length they found her out in Abbey 
dale, 
Drinking wi Gipsey Davy. 

11 ' Rise, oh rise, my bonnie Jeanie Faw, 

Oh rise, and do not tarry ! 
Is this the thing ye promised to me 
When at first I did thee marry ? ' 

12 They drank her cloak, so did they her goun. 

They drank her stockings and her shoon. 
And they drank the coat that was nigh to her 
smock. 
And they pawned her pearled apron. 

13 They were sixteen clever men, 

Suppose they were na bonny ; 
They are a' to be hangd on ae tree, 
For the stealing o Earl Cassilis' lady. 

14 ' We are sixteen clever men, 

One woman was a' our mother ; 
We are a' to be hanged on ae day. 
For the stealing of a wanton lady.' 



< 



68 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



Kinloch MSS, V, 331, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton; from a reciter who came from the vicinity of 
Craigievar. 

1 There came Gyptians to Corse Field yeats, 

Black, tho they warna bonny ; 
They danced so neat and they danced so fine, 
Till down came the bonny lady. 

2 She came trippin down the stair, 

And her nine maidens afore her ; 
But up and starts him Johny Fa, 
And he cast the glamour oer her. 

3 ' Ye '11 take frae me this gay mantle. 

And ye 'U gie to me a plaidie ; 
For I shall follow Johny Fa, 
Lat weel or woe betide me.' 

4 They 've taen frae her her fine mantle, 

And they 've gaen to her a plaidie, 
And she 's awa wi Johny Fa, 
Whatever may betide her. 

6 When they came to a wan water, 
I wite it wasna bonny, 



6 ' Yestreen I wade this wan water, 

And my good lord was wi me ; 
The night I man cast aff my shoes and wide, 
And the black bands widen wi me. 

7 ' Yestreen I lay in a well made bed, 

And my good lord lay wi me ; 
The night I maun ly in a tenant's barn, 
And the black bands lyin wi me.' 



8 ' Come to yer bed,' says Johnie Fa, 

' Come to yer bed, my dearie. 
And I shall swer, by the coat that I wear, 
That my hand it shall never go near thee.' 

9 ' I will never come to yer bed, 

I will never be yer dearie ; 
For I think I hear his horse's foot 
That was once called my dearie.' 

10 * Come to yer bed,' says Johny Fa, 

' Come to yer bed, my dearie, 
And I shall swear, by the coat that I wear. 
That my hand it shall never go oer thee.' 

11 ' I will niver come to yer bed, 

I will niver be yer dearie ; 
For I think I hear his bridle ring 
That was once called my dearie.' 



12 When that good lord came hame at night. 

He called for his lady ; 
The one maid said, and the other replied, 
' She 's a£E wi the Gyptian laddy.' 

13 ' Ye '11 saddle to me the good black steed, 

Tho the brown it was never so bonny ; 
Before that ever I eat or drink, 
I shall have back my lady.' 



14 ' Yestreen we were fifteen good armed men ; 
Tho black, we werena bonny ; 
The night we a' ly slain for one. 
It 's the Laird o Corse Field's lady.' 



B 



The Scottish Gallovidian Encyclopedia, by John Mactag- 
gart, 1824, p. 284. 

1 The gypsies they came to Lord Cassle's yet, 
And O but they sang ready ! 
They sang sae sweet and sae complete 
That down came the lord's fair lady. 



2 O she came tripping down the stair, 

Wi a' her maids afore her. 
And as soon as they saw her weelfared face 
They cuist their glaurary owxe her. 

3 She gaed to them the gude white bread. 

And they gaed to her the ginger. 
Then she gaed to them a far brawer thing. 
The gowd rings af her finger. 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



69 



4 Quo she to her maids, There 's my gay mantle, 

And bring to me my plaidy. 
And tell my lord whan he comes hame 
I 'm awa wi a gypsie laddie. 

5 For her lord he had to the hounting gane, 

Awa in the wild green wuddie. 
And Jockie Faw, the gypsie king, 
Saw him there wi his cheeks sae ruddy. 

6 On they mounted, and af they rade, 

Ilk gypsie had a cuddy, 
And whan through the stincher they did prance 
They made the water muddy. 

7 Quo she. Aft times this water I hae rade, 

Wi many a lord and lady, 

But never afore did I it wade 

To follow a gypsie laddie. 

8 * Aft hae I Iain in a saft feather-bed, 

Wi my gude lord aside me, 
But now I maun sleep in an auld reeky kilt, 
Alang wi a gypsie laddie.' 

9 Sae whan that the yirl he came hame, 

His servants a' stood ready ; 
Some took his horse, and some drew his boots, 
But gane was his fair lady. 

10 And whan he came ben to the parlour-door, 

He asked for his fair lady. 
But some denied, and ithers some replied, 
* She 's awa wi a gypsie laddie.' 

11 * Then saddle,' quoth he, ' my gude black naig, 

For the brown is never sae speedy ; 
As I will neither eat nor drink 
Till I see my fair lady. 

12 ' I met wi a cheel as I rade hame, 

And thae queer stories said he ; 
Sir, I saw this day a fairy queen 
Fu pack wi a gypsie laddie. 

13 ' I hae been east, and I hae been west, 

And in the lang town o Kircadie, 
But the bonniest lass that ever I saw 
Was following a gypsie laddie.' 



14 Sae his lordship has rade owre hills and dales, 
And owre mony a wiid hie mountain, 
Until that he heard his ain lady say, 
' Now my lord will be hame f rae the hounting.' 

15 ' Than will you come hame, my hinnie and my 

love ? ' 
Quoth he to his charming dearie, 
* And I '11 keep ye aye in a braw close room, 
Where the gypsies will never can steer ye.' 

16 Said she, 'I can swear by the sun and the 

stars. 
And the moon whilk shines sae dearie, 
That I am as chaste for the gypsie Jockie 

Faw 
As the day my minnie did bear me.' 

17 * Gif ye wad swear by the sun,' said he, 

• And the moon, till ye wad deave me, 
Ay and tho ye wad take a far bigger aith. 
My dear, I wadna believe ye. 

18 * I '11 tak ye hame, and the gypsies I '11 hang. 

Ay, I '11 make them girn in a wuddie. 
And afterwards I 'U burn Jockie Faw, 
Wha fashed himself wi my fair lady. 

19 Quoth the gypsies, We 're fifteen weel-made men, 

Tho the maist o us be ill bred ay, 
Yet it wad be a pity we should a' hang for ane, 
Wha fashed himself wi your fair lady. 

20 Quoth the lady. My lord, forgive them a', 

For they nae ill eer did ye. 
And gie ten guineas to the chief, Jockie Faw, 
For he is a worthy laddie. 

21 The lord he hearkened to his fair dame, 

And O the gypsies war glad ay I 
They danced round and round their merry Jockie 
Faw, 
And roosed the gypsie laddie. 

22 Sae the lord rade hame wi his charming spouse, 

Owre the hills and the haughs sae whunnie. 
And the gypsies slade down by yon bonny burn- 
side, 
To beek themsells there sae sunnie. 



70 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



The Songs of England and Scotland [by P. Cunning- 
ham], London, 1835, II, 346, taken down, as current in the 
north of England, from the recitation of John Martin, the 
painter. 

1 The gypsies came to the Earl o Cassilis' gate, 

And but they sang bonnie ! 
They sang sae sweet and sae complete 
That down cam our fair ladie. 

2 And she cam tripping down the stair, 

Wi her twa maids before her ; 
As soon as they saw her weel-far'd face, 
They coost their glamer oer her. 

"V 3 ' come wi me,' says Johnnie Faw, 
' come wi me, my dearie, 
For I vow and swear, by the hilt of my sword. 
Your lord shall nae mair come near ye.' 

4 ' Here, tak frae me this gay mantile, 
And gie to me a plaidie ; 
Tho kith and kin and a' had sworn, 
I '11 follow the gypsie laddie. 

6 * Yestreen I lay in a weel-made bed, 
And my gude lord beside me ; 
This night I '11 lie in a tenant's bam. 
Whatever shall betide me. 

6 ' Last night I lay in a weel-made bed, 

Wi silken hangings round me ; 

But now I 'U lie in a farmer's barn, 

Wi the gypsies all around me. 



7 * The first ale-house that we come at, 

We 'U hae a pot o brandie ; 
The next ale-house that we came at, 

We '11 drink to gypsie Geordie.' <. 

8 Now when our lord cam home at een, 

He speir'd for his fair lady ; 
The ane she cried, [the] tither replied, 
' She 's awa wi the gypsie laddie.' 

9 ' Gae saddle me the gude black steed ; 

The bay was neer sae bonnie ; 
For I will neither eat nor sleep 
Till I be wi my lady.' 

10 Then he rode east, and he rode west, 

And he rode near Strabogie, 
And there he found his ain dear wife, 
Drinking wi gypsie Geordie. 

11 ' And what made you leave your houses and 

land? 
Or what made you leave your money ? 
Or what made you leave your ain wedded lord, 
To follow the gypsie laddie ? 

12 ' Then come thee hame, my ain dear wife. 

Then come thee hame, my hinnie. 
And I do swear, by the hilt of my sword. 
The gypsies nae mair shall come near thee.' 

13 Then we were seven weel-made men. 

But lack ! we were nae bonnie. 

And we were a' put down for ane. 

For the Earl o Cassilis' ladie. 



G 

a. A broadside in the Roxbnrghe Ballads, HI, 685, en- 
tered in the catalogue, doubtfully, aa of Newcastle upon 
Tyne, 1720. b. A recent stall-copy, Catnach, 2 Monmouth 
Court, Seven Dials. 

1 There was seven gypsies all in a gang, 
yC They were brisk and bonny ; O 

They rode till they came to the Earl of Cas- 
tle's house. 
And there they sang most sweetly. O 

2 The Earl of Castle's lady came down, 

With the waiting-maid beside her ; 



As soon as her fair face they saw. 

They called their grandmother over. [( 

3 They gave to her a nutmeg brown. 

And a race of the best ginger ; 
She gave to them a far better thing, 
'Twas the ring from off her finger. 

4 She puUd off her high-heeld shoes. 

They was made of Spanish leather ; 
She put on her highland brog[u]es. 
To follow the gypsey loddy. 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



71 



5 At night when my good lord came home, 

Enquiring for his lady, 
The waiting-maid made this reply, 
' She 's following the gypsey loddy.' 

6 * Come saddle me my milk-white steed, 

Come saddle it so bonny. 
As I may go seek my own wedded wife, 
That 's following the gypsey loddy. 

7 * Have you been east ? have you been west ? 

Or have you been brisk and bonny ? 
Or have you seen a gay lady, 
A following the gypsey loddy ? ' 

8 He rode all that summer's night, 

And part of the next morning ; 



At length he spy'd his own wedded wife, 
She was cold, wet, and weary. 

9 ' Why did you leave your houses and land ? 
Or why did you leave your money ? 
Or why did you leave your good wedded lord, 
To follow the gypsey loddy ? ' 

10 * O what care I for houses and land ? 
Or what care I for money ? 
So as I have brewd, so will I return ; 
So fare you well, my honey ! ' 

11 There was seven gypsies in a gang, 
And they was brisk and bonny. 
And they 're to be hanged all on a row, 
For the Earl of Castle's lady. 



Shropshire Lolk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Bume, 
p. 550, as sung May 23, 1885, by gypsy children. 

1 Theee came a gang o gipsies by. 
And they was singing so merry, O 
Till they gained the heart o my lady gay, 



2 As soon as the lord he did come in, 

Enquired for his lady, O 
And some o the sarvants did-a reply, 

* Her 's away wi the gipsy laddie.' O 

3 ' saddle me the bay, and saddle me the grey. 

Till I go and sarch for my lady ; ' 
And some o the sarvants did-a reply, 

* Her 's away wi the gipsy laddie.' 



4 And he rode on, and he rode off, 

Till he came to the gipsies' tentie, 
And there he saw his lady gay, 
By the side o the gipsy laddie. 

5 ' Did n't I leave you houses and land ? 

And did n't I leave you money ? 
Did n't I leave you three pretty babes 
As ever was in yonder green island ? ' 

6 * What care I for houses and land ? 

And what care I for money ? 
What do I care for three pretty babes ? ' 



7 ' The tother night you was on a feather bed, 
Now you 're on a straw one,' 



From Miss Margaret Rebum, " as sung in County Meath, 
Ireland, about 1860." 

1 There come seven gypsies on a day. 
Oh, but they sang bonny ! 
And they sang so sweet, and they sang so clear, 
Down cam the earl's ladie. O 



2 They gave to her the nutmeg, 

And they gave to her the ginger ; 
But she gave to them a far better thing, 
The seven gold rings off her fingers. 

3 When the earl he did come home. 

Enquiring for his ladie, 



72 



aOO. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



One of the servants made this reply, 
* She 's awa with the gypsie lad[d]ie.' 

4 ' Come saddle for me the brown,' he said, 

' For the black was neer so speedy, 
And I will travel night and day 
Till I find out my ladie. 

5 * Will you come home, my dear ? ' he said, 

' Oh win you come home, my honey ? 
And, by the point of my broad sword, 
A hand I '11 neer lay on you.' 

6 ' Last night I lay on a good feather-bed. 

And my own wedded lord beside me. 



And tonight I '11 lie in the ash-corner, 
With the gypsies all around me. 

7 * They took off my high-heeled shoes. 

That were made of Spanish leather. 
And I have put on coarse Lowland brogues. 
To trip it oer the heather.' 

8 ' The Earl of Cashan is lying sick ; 

Not one hair I 'm sorry ; 
I 'd rather have a kiss from his fair lady's 
lips 
Than all his gold and his money.' 



a. Written down by Newton Pepoun, as learned from a 
boy with whom he went to school in Stockbridge, Massa- 
chusetts, about 1845. b. From the singing of Mrs Farmer, 
bom in Maine, as learned by her daughter, about 1840. 

1 There was a gip came oer the land. 

He sung so sweet and gaily ; 
He sung with glee, neath the wild wood tree. 
He charmed the great lord's lady. 
Ring a ding a ding go ding go da. 

Ring a ding a ding go da dy. 
Ring a ding a ding go ding go da. 
She 's gone with the gipsey Davy. 

2 The lord he came home late that night ; 

Enquiring for his lady, 
* She 's gone, she 's gone,' said his old servant- 
man, 
* She 's gone with the gipsey Davy.' 

3 ' Gro saddle me my best black mare ; 

The grey is neer so speedy ; 



For I '11 ride all night, and I 'U ride all day, 
Till I overtake my lady.' 

4 Riding by the river-side, 

The grass was wet and dewy ; 
Seated with her gipsey lad. 
It 's there he spied his lady. 

5 ' Would you forsake your house and home ? 

Would you forsake your baby ? 
Would you forsake your own true love, 
And go with the gipsey Davy ? ' 

6 ' Yes, I '11 forsake my house and home. 

Yes, I '11 forsake my baby ; 
What care I for my true love ? 
I love the gipsey Davy.' 

7 The great lord he rode home that night. 

He took good care of his baby. 
And ere six months had passed away 
He married another lady. 



a. From Mrs Helena Titus Brown of New York. b. From 
Miss Emma A. Clinch of New York. Derived, 1 820, or a lit^ 
tie later, a directly, b indirectly, from the singing of Miss 
Phoebe Wood, Huntington, Long Island, and perhaps 
learned from English soldiers there stationed during the 
Revolutionary war. 



1 ' Go bring me down my high-heeled shoes. 
Made of the Spanish leather. 
And I '11 take off my low-heeled shoes. 
And away we '11 go together.' 
Lumpy dumpy linky dinky day 
Lumpy dumpy linky dinky daddy 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



73 



2 They brought her down her high-heeled shoes, 

Made of the Spanish leather, 
And she took o£E her low-heeled shoes, 
And away they went together. 

3 And when Lord Garrick he got there, 

Inquiring for his lady. 
Then up steps his best friend : 
' She 's gone with a gipsy laddie.' 

4 ' Go saddle me my bonny brown. 

For the grey is not so speedy, 
And away we '11 go to the Misty Mount, 
And overtake my lady.' 



6 They saddled him his bonny brown, 
For the grey was not so speedy, 
And away they went to the Misty Mount, 
And overtook his lady. 

6 And when Lord Garrick he got there, 

'T was in the morning early. 

And there he found his lady fair, 

And she was wet and weary. 

7 ' And it 's fare you well, my dearest dear, ' 

And it 's fare you well for ever. 
And if you don't go with me now, 
Don't let me see you never.' 



A. Variations of Finlay, II, 39 ff. 
Inserted after 2 : 

* O come with me,' says Johnie Faw, 

' O come with me, my dearie ; 
For I vow and I swear, by the hilt of my 
sword. 

That your lord shall nae mair come near ye.' 

Then she gied them the beer and the wine. 

And they gied her the ginger ; 
But she gied them a far better thing. 

The goud ring aff her finger. 

4^*. Wimy. 4^. But this. 

6^ For I vow and I swear, by the fan in my 
hand. 

1^. And wanting. 

9'. Otherwise : The brown was neer sae ready. 

108. but ane. 10*. For a. 

Herd has in 10*'* but ane, For. Pinkerton 
follows Herd, with changes of his own in 1, 
10, and the omission of 7. The copy in 
Johnson's Museum is Herd's, with changes : 
in 10^'*, are a' put down for ane. The Earl of 
Cassilis' lady. Bitson follows Ramsay, ex- 
cept that in 6* he has And I '11, found in 
Herd ; perhaps also in some edition of the 
Tea-Table Miscellany. 

B. a. " Some lines have been omitted on account 

of their indelicacy : " p. 308 b. The refer- 
ence is no doubt to a stanza corresponding 
to A. 1, or perhaps to a passage like 5-7. 



10 



b. Only 1, 2, 5, 10-13, are preserved. 
V: gipsies cam to oor ha-door. 
1*. doon stairs cam oor gay leddie. 
2\ afore. 

2*. An whan they. 2*. cuist the glamour. 
6*. my gay mantle. 5*. me my. 
5'. For I maun leave my guid lord at hame. 
5*. An follow the. 

10^ They travelld east, they travelld wast. 
10^. They travelld. 10«. to the. 
10*. By that time she. 11^. I crost this. 
11*. An my guid man. 11^ Noo I maun put. 

An follow. 

Whan her guid lord cam hame at nicht. 

He spierd for his gay. 

The tane she cried an the ither replied. 

She 's aff. 13^. the brown, he said. 

The black neer rides. 13*. For I. 

Till I 've brought back. 
C. 4^ Originally ^laid was written for cloak ; evl' 
dently by accidental anticipation. 
5*. fit altered perhaps from fut ; printed fit. 

Motherwell has made several verbal 
changes in printing, and has inserted three 
stanzas to fill out the ballad. After 3, 

* Come with me, my bonnie Jeanie Faw, 

O come with me, my dearie ; 
For I do swear, by the head o my spear, 

Thy gude lord 'U nae mair come near thee.' 

After 7, 
' I '11 go to bed,' the lady she said, 
* I '11 go to bed to my dearie ; 



11*. 
12^ 
12* 
128, 
12* 
13« 
13* 



74 



200. THE GYPSY LADDIE 



For I do swear, by the fan in my hand, 
That my lord shall nae mair come near me. 

* I '11 mak a hap,' the lady she said, 
' I 'U mak a hap to my dearie, 

And he 's get a' this petticoat gaes round, 
And my lord shall nae mair come near me.' 

B. 12, 13. After Q of A, says Finlay, some copies 
insert : 

And he 's rode east, and he 's rode west, 

Till he came near Kirkaldy ; 
There he met a packman-lad, 

And speir'd for his fair lady. 

* O cam ye east ? or cam ye west ? 

Or cam ye through Kirkaldy ? 
saw na ye a bonny lass. 

Following the gypsie laddie ? ' 

' I cam na east, I cam na west, 
Nor cam I through Kirkaldy ; 

But the bonniest lass that eer I saw 
Was following the gypsie laddie ! * 

See also Q- 7. 
G. a. 4®. br oges. 
b. In stanzas of eight lines. 
"!}. There were. 

2'^. With her. 2*. fair wanting. 
2*. They cast the glamer over her. 
3*. Which was of the belinger. 
3*. 'T was wanting. 4**. They were. 
4*. brogues. 4*. laddy, and always. 
6\ me wanting. 6'. That I may go and seek. 
6*. Who 's. 7*. Following a. 
S\ all the summer. 8*. espied. 
8*. and wet. 9^. O why. 
9'. your own. 10^. lands. 10*. will I remain. 



Order: 1,5,6,2,3. 

2 (as 4). The lord came home that self -same 

night, 
Inquired for his lady ; 
The merry maid made him this reply, 
' She 's gone with the gypsy Davy.' 

3 (as 5). ' bring me out the blackest steed; 

The brown one 's not so speedy ; 
I '11 ride all day, and I '11 ride all night, 
Till I overtake my lady.' 

4 (as 7). He rode along by the river-side. 

The water was black and rily. 



11^ There were. 
11«. aU in. 
H. 2\ the lawyer did. 



ll''. They were. 



J. b. 1. The gypsy came tripping over the lea. 
The gypsy he sang boldly ; 
He sang till he made the merry woods 
ring. 
And he charmed the heart of the lady. 



5 (as 2). 6»'». Will you. 

6*. Will you forsake your own wedded lord. 

6 (as 3). 62. And I '11. 

6*. I will forsake my own wedded lord. 

6*. And go with the gypsy Davy. 7. Wanting. 

b 6. I lay last night. The rest wanting. 

b 8. Puts the question whether she will go back. 

b 9. I lay last night. The rest wanting. 
K. a. The order as delivered was 3, 1, 2, etc., and 
the high-heeled shoes were attributed to Lord 
Garrick. Him, his, he in 2 have been 
changed to her, her, she. But a further 
change should be made for sense, in 1, 2 : 
the lady should take off her high-heeled 
sJioes and put on her low-heeled shoes ; see 
G 4, 1 8. 

Burden given also : 

Lai dee dumpy dinky diddle dah day 
b. Burden : Rump a dump a dink a dink a day 
Bump a dump a dink a dink a dady. 

Or, Rink a dink a dink a dink a day 

Rink a dink a dink a dink a day dee. 

Order as in a. 

1^. fetch me. 1'. And take away. 

2K fetched him down his. 

2^ And they took away his. 

3^ got home. 3*. with the. 

4*. Go fetch me out. 4'. And we '11 away to. 

4*. To for And. 5^. They fetched him out. 

5*. To overtake my. 6^. lady bright. 

7'. you won't. 



201. BESSY BELL AND MARY GKAY 



76 



201 
BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY 



a. Sharpens Ballad Book, 1823, p. 62. b. Lyle's An- 
cient Ballads and Songs, 1827, p. 160, "collated 
from the singing of two aged persons, one of them a 



native of Perthshire." 
I, 45, two stanzas. 



c. Scott's Minstrelsy, 1833, 



A SQUIB on the birth of the Chevalier St 
George, beginning 

Bessy Bell and Mary Grey, 
Those famous bonny lasses, 

shows that this little ballad, or song, was very- 
well known in the last years of the seven- 
teenth century.* The first stanza was made 
by Ramsay the beginning of a song of his 
own, and stands thus in Ramsay's Poems, 
Edinburgh, 1721, p. 80 : f 

O Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, 
They are twa bonny lasses ; 

They biggd a bower on yon Burn-brae, 
And theekd it oer wi rashes. 

Cunningham, Songs of Scotland, III, 60, 
gives, as recited to him by Sir Walter Scott, 
four stanzas which are simply a with ' Lyn- 
doch brae ' substituted in the third for 
Sharpe's ' Stronach haugh.' ' Dranoch haugh,' 
nearly as in b, is, as will presently appear, the 
right reading. Sharpe's third stanza, with the 
absurd variation of royal kin, occurs in a let- 
ter of his of the date November 25, 1811 (Let- 
ters, ed. Allardyce, I, 504), and is printed in 
the Musical Museum, IV, *203, ed. 1853. 

In the course of a series of letters concern- 
ing the ballad in The Scotsman (newspaper), 
August 30 to September 8, 1886, several 
verses are cited with trivial variations from 
the texts here given. 

* I have seen this piece only in Elizabeth Cochrane'a 
Song-Book, MS., p. 38, and in Buchan's MSS, I, 220. Its 
contents agree with what is alleged in W. Fuller's " Brief 
Discovery of the True Mother of the pretended Prince of 
Wales, known by the name of Mary Grey," London, 1 696, 
pp. 5 £, 11, 17 f, and it was probably composed not long 
after. 



' Bessy Bell ' was made into this nursery- 
song in England (Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes 
of England, 1874, p. 246, No 484) : 

Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, 
They were two bonny lasses ; 

They built their house upon the lea, 
And covered it with rashes. 

Bessy kept the garden-gate. 
And Mary kept the pantry ; 

Bessy always had to wait, 
While Mary lived in plenty. 

The most important document relating to 
Bessy Bell and Mary Gray is a letter written 
June 21, 1781, by Major Barry, then proprietor 
of Lednock, and printed in the Transactions 
of the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland, 
II, 108, 1822.J 

"When I came first to Lednock," says 
Major Barry, " I was shewn in a part of my 
ground (called the Dranoch-haugh) an heap 
of stones almost covered with briers, thorns 
and fern, which they assured me was the 
burial place of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray. 

" The tradition of the country relating to 
these ladys is, that Mary Gray's father was 
laird of Lednock and Bessie Bell's of Kinvaid, 
a place in this neighbourhood ; that they were 
both very handsome, and an intimate friend- 
ship subsisted between them ; that while Miss 
Bell was on a visit to Miss Gray, the plague 

t Afterwards inserted in the first volume of The Tea- 
Table Miscellany (p. 66 of A New Miscellany of Scots Sangs, 
London, 1727, p. 68 of T. T. M., Dublin, 1729), from which 
source it may have been adopted by Sharpe. 

X Here from the original. Communications to the Society 
of Antiquaries of Scotland, vol. i, from a copy furnished by 
Mr Macmath. 



76 



201. BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY 



broke out, in the year 1666 ; in order to avoid 
which they built themselves a bower about 
three quarters of a mile west from Lednock 
House, in a very retired and romantic place 
called Burn-braes, on the side of Brauchie- 
burn. Here they lived for some time; but 
the plague raging with great fury, they caught 
the infection, it is said, from a young gentle- 
man who was in love with them both. He 
used to bring them their provision. They 
died in this bower, and were buried in the 
Dranoch-haugh, at the foot of a brae of the 
same name, and near to the bank of the river 
Almond. The burial-place lies about half a 
mile west from the present house of Lednock.* 

" I have removed all the rubbish from this 
little spot of classic ground, inclosed it with a 
wall, planted it round with flowering shrubs, 
made up the grave double, and fixed a stone 
in the wall, on which is engraved the names 
of Bessie Bell and Mary [Gray]." 

The estate passed by purchase to Thomas 
Graham, afterwards Lord Lynedoch, who re- 
placed the wall, which had become dilapi- 
dated in the course of half a century, with a 
stone parapet and iron railing, and covered the 
grave with a slab inscribed, " They lived, they 
loved, they died." This slab is now hidden 
under a cairn of stones raised by successive 
pilgrims. 

Major Barry's date of 1666 should be put 



back twenty years. Perth and the neighbor- 
hood (Lednock is seven miles distant) were 
fearfully ravaged by the plague in 1645 and 
a year or two following. Three thousand 
people are said to have perished. Scotland 
escaped the pestilence of 1665-6. f 

The young gentleman who is said to have 
brought food to Bessy and Mary is sometimes 
described as the lover of both, sometimes as 
the lover of one of the pair. Pennant says 
that the ballad was " composed by a lover 
deeply stricken with the charms of both." In 
the course of tradition, the lover is said to have 
perished with the young women, which we 
might expect to happen if he brought the 
contagion to the bower. But this lover, who 
ought to have had hia place in the song, 
appears only in tradition, and his reality may 
be called in question. It is not rational that 
the young women should seclude themselves 
to avoid the pest and then take the risk of 
the visits of a person from the seat of the in- 
fection. J To be sure it may be doubted, 
notwithstanding the tenor of the ballad, 
whether the retirement of these young ladies 
was voluntary, or at least whether they had 
not taken the plague before they removed to 
their bower. In that case the risk would 
have been for the lover, and would have been 
no more than he might naturally assume. § 



1 O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 
They war twa bonnie lasses ; 

* The most of this account, and in nearly the same 
words, was given in an earlier letter from Major Barry to 
James Cant, who printed (Perth, 1774) an edition of ' The 
Muses Threnodie, by Mr H. Adamson, 1638' (p, 19). The 
principal items of the story are repeated from Cant by Pen- 
nant, Tour in Scotland, 1772, Part II, London, 1776, p. 112. 
Pennant cites Cant's book as the Gabions of Perth. " It 
seems," says Mr Macmath, who has extracted for me the 
passage in Cant, " that Adamson's work was sometimes 
known as Gall's Gabions, the latter being a coined word." 

t An "old manuscript volume" cited in The New Statis- 
tical Account of Scotland, X, 37 ; Chambers, Domestic 
Annals of Scotland, 1858, II, 167. 

} The remark is made in The Scotsman, September 11, 
1886. 



They bigget a bower on yon burn-brae, 
And theekit it oer wi rashes. 

§ In the manuscript cited in The New Statistical Account 
of Scotland, p. 37, we are told that, to prevent the spread of 
infection, " it was thought proper to put those out of the town 
at some distance who were sick. Accordingly, they went 
out arid builded huts for themselves in different places around 
the town, particularly in the South Inch [etc.] and the 
grounds near the river Almond, at the mouth thereof, in all 
which places there are as yet the remains of their huts 
which they lodged in." So, when this same pestilence was 
raging in the parish of Monivaird, the gentlemen " caused 
many huts to be built, and ordered all who perceived that 
they were infected immediately to repair into them : " Por- 
teous, History of the Parishes of Monivaird and Strowan, 
MS., Communications to the Society of Antiquaries of 
Scotland, vol. i, printed in the Transactions, II, 72, 1822. 



202. THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH 



77 



2 They theeklt it oer wi rashes green, 

They theekit it oer wi heather ; 
But the pest cam frae the burrows-town, 
And slew them baith thegither. 

3 They thought to lye in Methven kirk-yard, 



Among their noble kin ; 



/V 



But they maun lye in Stronach haugh, 
To biek forenent the sin. ^ 

4 And Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, 
They war twa bonnie lasses ; 
They biggit a bower on yon burn-brae, 
And theekit it oer wi rashes. 



a. In eight-line stanzas. 

b. 1'. house for bower. 2^. wi birk and brume. 
2'. Till the : frae the neibrin. 

2\ An streekit. 2>\ They were na buried in. 
3^. Amang the rest o their kin. 
3*. they were buried by Dornoch-haugh. 
3*. On the bent before. 4*. Sing /or And. 



4". Wha/orThey. 4*. wi thrashes. 
. 1^ O wanting. 2. Wanting. 
3^. They wadna rest in Methvin kirk. 
3^". gentle kin. 

3*. But they wad lie in Lednoch braes. 
3^ beek against. 
4. Wanting. 



202 

THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 153, 1803, II, 166, 1833 • "preserved by tradition in Selkirkshire. 



After six brilliant victories, at Tipper- 
muir, Aberdeen, Inverlochy, Auldearn, Al- 
ford, Kilsyth, gained in less than a year, Sep- 
tember 1, 1644-August 15, 1645, Montrose 
was surprised by David Leslie at Philip- 
haugh, September 13 following, and bis army 
cut to pieces or dispersed. This army, con- 
sisting of only five hundred Irish foot and 
twelve hundred Scottish horse, the last all 
gentry, was lying at Philiphaugh, a meadow 
on the west side of the Ettrick, and at Sel- 
kirk, on and above the opposite bank. Leslie 
came down from the north with four thou- 
sand cavalry and some infantry, was less than 
four miles from Selkirk the night of the 
twelfth, and on the morrow, favored by a 
heavy mist, had advanced to about half a 

* This is Wishart's account. Another, by Covenanters, 
makes Montrose to have been more on the alert, and has 
nothing of the two thousand horse sent to take him in the 
rear. The royalists are admitted to hare maintained theu' 



mile's distance before his approach was re- 
ported. A hundred and fifty of Montrose's 
horse received and repulsed two charges of 
greatly superior numbers ; the rest stood off 
and presently took to flight. The foot re- 
mained firm. Two thousand of Leslie's horse 
crossed the river and got into Montrose's rear, 
and made resistance vain. Montrose and a few 
friends hewed their way through the enemy.* 

1. Harehead wood is at the western end of 
the plain of Philiphaugh. 

2, 3. Leslie had come up from Berwick 
along the eastern coast as far as Tranent, and 
then suddenly turned south. His numbers are 
put too low, and Montrose's, in 10, about nine 
times too high. 

4. The Shaw burn is a small stream that 

ground with great resolution for almost an hour. The 
numbers are as given by Gardiner, History of the Great 
CivU War, II, 335 f . 



78 



202. THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH 



flows into the Ettrick from the south, a little 
north of the town. 

6. Lingly burn falls into the Ettrick from 
the north, a little above the Shaw burno 

The ' aged father,' 6, to accept a tradition 
reported by Sir Walter Scott, was one " Bry- 
done, ancestor to several families in the parish 
of Ettrick." This is probably the personage 
elsewhere called Will, upon whose advice 
Leslie (according to tradition again) " sent a 
strong body of horse over a dip in the bank 
that separated his advanced guard from the 
river Ettrick, and still known as "Will's 
Nick," with instructions to follow their guide 
up Netley burn, wheel to the left round 
Linglee hill, and then fall upon the flank of 
Montrose's army at Philiphaugh." * It does 
not appear that Leslie adopted that portion 



of the aged father's recommendation which is 
conveyed in stanzas 11, 12, notwithstanding 
the venerable man's unusual experience, which, 
as Scott points out, extended from Sol way 
Moss, 1542, to Dunbar, where, in 1650, five 
years after Philiphaugh, Leslie was defeated 
by Cromwell. 

Other pieces of popular verse relating, in 
part or wholly, to Montrose are 'The Gallant 
Grahams,' Roxburghe collection. III, 380, 
Douce, III, 39 back, Ebsworth, Roxburghe 
Ballads, VI, 587, Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 371, 
1803, II, 183, 1833; 'The Haughs o Crom- 
dale,' Ritson's Scotish Songs, 1794, II, 40, 
Johnson's Museum, No 488, Maidment's Sco- 
tish Ballads and Songs, 1868, I, 299, Hogg's 
Jacobite Relics, I, 157 ff ; ' The Battle of Al- 
ford,' Laing's Thistle of Scotland, p. 68. 



1 On Philiphaugh a fray began, 

At Hairheadwood it ended ; 
The Scots outoer the Graemes they ran, 
Sae merrily they bended. 

2 Sir David frae the Border came, 

Wi heart an hand came he ; 
Wi him three thousand bonny Scots, 
To bear him company. 

3 Wi him three thousand valiant men, 

A noble sight to see ! 
A cloud o mist them weel conceald. 
As close as eer might be. 

4 When they came to the Shaw bum, 

Said he, Sae weel we frame, 
I think it is convenient 

That we should sing a psalm. 

5 When they came to the Lingly burn, 

As daylight did appear. 
They spy'd an aged father. 
And he did draw them near. 

6 * Come hither, aged father,' 

Sir David he did cry, 
' And tell me where Montrose lies, 
With all his great army.' 



7 ' But first you must come tell to me, 

If friends or foes you be ; 
I fear you are Montrose's men, 
Come frae the north country.' 

8 ' No, we are nane o Montrose's men. 

Nor eer intend to be ; 
I am Sir David Lesly, 

That 's speaking unto thee.* 

9 " If you 're Sir David Lesly, 

As I think weel ye be, 
I am sorry ye hae brought so few 
Into your company. 

10 ' There 's fifteen thousand armed men 

Encamped on yon lee ; 
Ye '11 never be a bite to them. 
For aught that I can see. 

11 ' But halve your men in equal parts, 

Your purpose to fulfill ; 
Let ae half keep the water-side, 
The rest gae round the hill. 

12 ' Your nether party fire must. 

Then beat a flying drum ; 
And then they '11 think the day 's their ain, 
And frae the trench they '11 come. 



* T. Craig-Brown, History of Selkirkshire, 1886, I, 188. 



203. THE BARON OF BRACKLBY 



79 



13 * Then, those that are behind them maun 

Gie shot, baith grit and sma ; 
And so, between your armies twa, 
Ye may make them to fa.' 

14 ' O were ye ever a soldier ? ' 

Sir David Lesly said ; 
* yes ; I was at Solway Flow, 
Where we were all betrayd. 

15 ' Again I was at curst Dunbar, 

And was a prisner taen, 
And many weary night and day 
In prison I hae lien.' 

16 * If ye will lead these men aright, 

Rewarded shall ye be ; 
But, if that ye a traitor prove, 
I '11 hang thee on a tree.' 

17 * Sir, I will not a traitor prove ; 

Montrose has plunderd me ; 



I '11 do my best to banish him 
Away frae this country.' 

18 He halvd his men in equal parts, 

His purpose to fulfill ; 
The one part kept the water-side, 
The other gaed round the hill. 

19 The nether party fired brisk, 

Then turnd and seemd to rin ; 
And then they a' came frae the trench, 
And cry'd, The day 's our ain ! 

20 The rest then ran into the trench, 

And loosd their cannons a' : 
And thus, between his armies twa, 
He made them fast to fa. 

21 Now let us a' for Lesly pray. 

And his brave company, 
For they hae vanquishd great Montrose, 
Our cruel enemy. 



4*. Var. That we should take a dram ; 
Probably a jocose suggestion. 



Scott. 



203 

THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



A. a. * The Baronne of Braikley,* [Alexander Laing's] 
Scarce Ancient Ballads, 1822, p. 9. b. ' The Baron 
of Braikley,' Buchan's Gleanings, 1825, p. 68. c. * The 
Barrone of Brackley,' The New Deeside Guide, by 
James Brown (pseudonym for Joseph Robertson), 
Aberdeen, [1832*], p. 46. 



B. « The Baron of Brackley,' Kinloch MSS, V, 379; in 
the handwriting of John Hill Burton. 

C. a. * The Baron of Braikly,' Jamieson- Brown MS., 
Appendix, p. viii. b. * The Baron of Brackley,' 
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, 1806, I, 102. 



D. ' The Baron of Breachell,' Skene MS., p. 110. 



First printed by Jamieson (C b) in 1806, 
who says : " For the copy of the ballad here 
given I am indebted to Mrs Brown. I have 

* Not 1829, as put in the reprint of 1869. " Written 
hurriedly, in supply of the press, in April and May, 1832, 
J. B." : Dr J. Robertson's interleaved copy of the undated 



also collated it with another, less perfect, but 
not materially different, so far as it goes, with 
which I was favored by the editor of the Bor- 

first edition. A c is reprinted (with some errors) in The 
Great North of Scotland Railway, A Guide, by W. Pergu- 
son, 1881, p. 163. 



80 



203. THE BARON OP BRACKLEY 



der Minstrelsy, who took it down from the 
recitation of two ladies, great-grandchildren 
of Farquharson of Inverey ; so that the ballad, 
and the notices that accompany it, are given 
upon the authority of a Gordon [Anne Gor- 
don, Mrs Brown] and a Farquharson." * Ac 
is also a compounded copy: see the notes. 

The text in The Thistle of Scotland, p. 46, 
is C b. That which is cited in part in the 
Fourth Report on Historical Manuscripts, 
1874, p. 534, is A o. The ballad is rewritten 
by Allan Cunningham, Songs of Scotland, II, 
208. 

A. Inverey comes before day to Brackley's 
gate, and calls to him to open and have his 
blood spilled. Brackley asks over the wall 
whether the people below are gentlemen or 
hired gallows-birds ; if gentlemen, they may 
come in and eat and drink ; in the other case, 
they may go on to the Lowlands and steal 
cattle. His wife urges him to get up ; the 
men are nothing but hired gallows-birds. 
Brackley will go out to meet Inverey (both 
know it is he, 12, 19), but these same gallows- 
birds will prove themselves men. His wife 
derisively calls on her maids to bring their 
distaffs ; if Brackley is not man enough to 
protect his cattle, she will drive ofE the robbers 
with her women. Brackley says he will go 
out, but he shall never come in. He arms 
and sallies forth, attended by his brother Wil- 
liam, his uncle, and his cousin ; but presently 
bids his brother turn back because he is a 
bridegroom. William refuses, and in turn, 
but equally to no effect, urges Brackley to 
turn back for his wife's and his son's sake. 
The Gordons are but four against four hun- 
dred of Inverey's, and are all killed. Brack- 
ley's wife, so far from tearing her hair, braids 
it, welcomes Inverey, and makes him a feast. 
The son, on the nurse's knee, vows to be re- 
venged if he lives to be a man. (Cf. ' Johnie 
Armstrong,' III, 367, where this should have 
been noted.) 

The other versions agree with A a in the 

* Jamieson writes to the Scots Magazine, October, 1803, 
p. 699 : " The Baron of Braikly begins, 

O Inverey cam down Dee-side 
Whistling and playing; 



material points. Inverey's numbers are di- 
minished. In B 10, O 11, Brackley has only 
his brother with him, meaning, perhaps, when 
he leaves his house. The fight was not sim- 
ply at the gates, but was extended over a 
considerable distance (A 33, B 11), and other 
men joined the Gordons in the course of it. 
In B 12 we learn that the miller's four sons 
(D 10, the miller and his three sons) were 
killed with the Gordons (and William Gor- 
don's wife, or bride, in A 25, is ' bonnie Jean, 
the maid o the mill '). In B 15, D 12, Craige- 
var comes up with a party, and might have 
saved Brackley's life had he been there an 
hour sooner. In A a, b, O, D, Brackley's wife 
is Peggy (Peggy Dann, wrongly, D 14, 15) ; 
in B 19 (wrongly) Catharine Fraser. D 
makes Catharine the wife of Gordon of Glen- 
muick (Alexander Gordon, A a 35), who rives 
her hair, as Brackley's wife does not (14, 15, 
18, 19). In C, Peggy Gordon, besides feast- 
ing Inverey, keeps him till morning, and then 
shows him a road by which he may go safely 
home. C b adds, for poetical justice, that 
Inverey at once let this haggard down the 
wind. 

This affray occurred in September, 1666. 
The account of it given by the Gordons (the 
son of the murdered laird and the Marquis of 
Huntly) was that John Gordon of Brackley, 
having poinded cattle belonging to John Far- 
quharson of Inverey, or his followers, Inverey 
" convoked his people, to revenge himself on 
Brackley for putting the law in execution ; 
that he came to the house of Brackley, and 
required the laird to restore his cattle which 
had been poinded ; and that, although the 
laird gave a fair answer, yet the Farquhar- 
sons, with the view of drawing him out of his 
house, drove away not only the poinded cat- 
tle but also Brackley's own cattle, and when 
the latter was thus forced to come out of his 
house, the Farquharsons fell on him and mur- 
dered him and his brother." 

A memorandum for John Farquharson of 

He's landed at Braikly's yates 
At the day dawing. 

Of this I have got a compleat copy, and the story is very 
interesting ; but I have got a fragment of it from another 
quarter, which, so far as it goes, is superior." Etc. 



203. THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



81 



Inverey and others, 24 January, 1677, " sets 
forth that John Gordon of Brackley, having 
bought from the sheriff of Aberdeen the fines 
exigible from Inverey and others for killing 
of black-fish, the said Brackley made friendly 
arrangements with others, but declined to set- 
tle with Inverey ; whereupon the latter, being 
on his way to the market at TuUich,* sent Mr 
John Ferguson, minister aX Glenmuick, John 
McHardy of Crathie, a notary, and Duncan 
Erskine, portioner of Invergelder, to the laird 
of Brackley, with the view of representing to 
him that Inverey and his tenants were willing 
to settle their fines on the same terms as their 
neighbors. These proposals were received by 
Brackley with contempt, and during the time 
of the communing he gathered his friends and 
attacked Inverey, and having ' loused severall 
shotts' against Inverey's party, the return 
shots of the latter were in self-defence. The 
result was that the laird of Brackley, with his 
brother William and their cousin James Gor- 
don in Cults, were killed on the one side, and 
on the other Robert Mc William in Inverey, 
John McKenzie, sometime there, and Malcom 
Gordon the elder." The convocation of In- 
verey's friends is accounted for in the same 
document by the fact that Inverey was cap- 
tain of the watch for the time ; that he and 
his ancestors had been used to go to the mar- 
ket with men to guard it ; and that it is the 
custom of the country for people who are 
going to the market to join any numerous 
company that may be going the same way, 
either for their own security or out of " kind- 
ness for the persons with whom they go," and 
also the custom of that mountainous coun- 
try to go with arms, especially at markets. 
(Abstract, by Dr. John Stuart, of a MS. 
of Col. James Farquharson of Invercauld, 
Historical MSS Commission, Fourth Report, 
p. 534). 

Another account, agreeing in all important 
points with the last, is given in a history of 

* A market was established here in 1661 by an act in 
favor of William Farquharson of Inverey, his heirs, etc. 
This William had a brother and a son John. William Far- 
quharson of Inverey younger, as " a person of known trust 
and approven ability," is appointed to keep a guard "this 
summer for the sherifdom of Kincardine " against cattle- 
VOL. rv. 11 



the family of Macintosh.! It will be borne 
in mind that Inverey belonged to this clan, 
and that acts of his would therefore be put in 
a favorable light. Brackley had seized the 
horses of some of Inverey's people on account 
of fines alleged to be due by them for taking 
salmon in the Dee out of season. Inverey 
represented to Brackley that the sufferers by 
this proceeding were men who had incurred 
no penalty, and offered, if the horses should 
be restored, to deliver the guilty parties for 
punishment. Brackley would not return the 
horses on these terms, and Inverey then pro- 
posed that the matter in dispute should be 
left to friends. While Brackley was consid- 
ering what to do, Alexander Gordon of Aber- 
feldy came to offer his services, with a body 
of armed men, and Brackley, now feeling 
himself strong, rejected the suggestion of a 
peaceful solution, and set out to attack In- 
verey. When a collision was impending, In- 
verey at first drew back, begging Brackley to 
desist from violence, which only made Brack- 
ley and Aberfeldy the keener. Two of In- 
verey's followers were slain ; and then In- 
verey and his men, in self-defence, turned on 
their assailants, and killed Gordon of Brack- 
ley, his brother William, and James Gordon 
of Cults. 

The Gordons, this account further says, 
began a prosecution of Inverey and his party 
before the Court of Justiciary. Inverey had 
recourse to Macintosh, his chief, who exerted 
himself so effectually in behalf of his kins- 
man that when the case was called no plaintiff 
appeared. Nevertheless Dr John Stuart (His- 
torical MSS, as above) produces a warrant 
"for apprehending John Farquharson of In- 
verey and others his followers, who had been 
outlawed for not compearing to answer at 
their trial, and had subsequently continued 
for many years in their outlawry, associating 
with themselves a company of thieves, mur- 
derers, and sorners ; therefore empowering 

driving Highlanders, July of the same year. Thomson's 
Acts, VII, 18, 1, 286 : pointed out to me by Mr Macmath. 

t Macfarlane's Genealogical Collections, MS., in the Ad- 
vocates' Library, I, 299f ; already cited by Jamieson, Bal- 
lads, I, 108. 



82 



203. THE BARON OF BRAOKLEY 



James Innes, Serjeant, and Corporal Rad- 
noch, commanding a party of troops at Kin- 
cardine O'Neill, to apprehend the said John 
Farquharson and his accomplices." From this 
warrant Dr Stuart considers that we may infer 
that Inverey was the aggressor in the affray 
with Brackley. But there is notliing to iden- 
tify the case, and the date of the warrant is 
February 12, 1685, nearly twenty years from 
the affair which we are occupied with, during 
which space, unless he were of an unusually 
peaceable habit, Inverey might have had sev- 
eral broils on his hands. 

Gordon of Brackley, as reported by Mrs 
Brown, from what she may have heard in her 
girlhood, a hundred years after his tragical 
end, was " a man universally esteemed." * 
" Farquharson of Inverey," says Jamieson, 
without giving his authority, " a renowned 
freebooter on Deeside, was his relation, and in 
habits of friendly intercourse with him. Far- 
quharson was fierce, daring, and active, ex- 
hibiting all the worst characteristics of a free- 
booter, with nothing of that blunt and par- 
tially just and manly generosity which were 
then not uncommonly met with among that 
description of men. The common people 
supposed him (as they did Dundee, and oth- 
ers of the same cast who were remarkable for 
their fortunate intrepidity and miraculous 
escapes) to be a warlock, and proof against 
steel and lead. He is said to have been 
buried on the north side of a hill, which the 
sun could never shine upon, etc." All which, 
as far as appears, is merely the tradition of 
Jamieson's day, and will be taken at different 
values by different readers. 

The * Peggy ' of A a, b, C, D was Margaret 
Burnet, daughter of Sir Thomas Burnet of 



Leys, and own cousin of Gilbert Burnet, 
Bishop of Salisbury.! This lady married Gor- 
don of Brackley against her friends' wishes, 
or without their consent, and so probably 
made a love-match. After Brackley's death 
she married one James Leslie, Doctor of Med- 
icine,:}: a fact which will suffice to offset the 
unconfirmed scandal of the ballad. 

It is now to be noted that a baron of Brack- 
ley had been murdered by caterans towards 
the end of the preceding century. " The 
Clanchattan, who, of all that faction, most 
eagerly endeavored to revenge the Earl of 
Murray his death, assembling their forces 
under Angus Donald Williamson his conduct, 
entered Strathdee and Glenmuick, where they 
invaded the Earl of Huntly his lands, and 
killed four of the surname of Gordon, Henry 
Gordon of the Knock, Alexander Gordon of 
TeJdow, Thomas Gordon of Blaircharrish, and 
the old baron of Breaghly, whose death and 
manner thereof was so much the more la- 
mented because he was very aged, and much 
given to hospitality, and slain under trust. 
He was killed by them in his own house after 
he had made them good cheer, without sus- 
pecting or expecting any such reckoning for 
his kindly entertainment; which happened 
the first day of November, 1592. In revenge 
whereof the Earl of Huntly assembled some 
of his forces and made an expedition into Pet- 
tie," etc. (See No 183, III, 456.) So writes 
Sir Robert Gordon, before 1630. § 

Upon comparing Sir Robert Gordon's de- 
scription of the old baron of Brackley who 
was murdered in 1592 with what is said of 
the baron in the ballad (A), there is a like- 
ness for which there is no historical authority 
in the instance of the baron of 1666. The 



* See a little further on. 

t Gilmour's Decisions, 1701, p. 43. (Macmath.) 

J Col. H. W. Lumsden's Memorials of the Families of 
Lumsdaine, etc., p. 59. 

§ History of the Earldom of Sutherland, p. 217 f. To 
the same effect, Johnstone, Historia Rerum Britannicarum, 
Amsterdam, 1655, p. 160 f, under the year 1591, and Spotis- 
wood, p. 390, of the editions of 1655, 1666, 1668, under the 
year 1592. " The History of the Feuds," etc., p. 67, ed. 1 764, 
merely repeats Sir Robert Gordon. William Gordon's His- 
tory of the Family of Gordon, cites Sir Robert Gordon and 
Johnstone, and calls Gordon of Brackley Alexander. 



Still another " Gordon, Baron of Brackley in Deeside," is 
said to have been murdered by the country people about 
him in or near 1540 : The Genealogy of the Grants, in Mac- 
farlane's Genealogical Collections, I, 168, and An Account 
of the Rise and Offspring of the Name of Grant, printed for 
Sir Archibald Grant, Bart., of Monymusk, 1876, p. 30 ff, 
where the date is put (perhaps through a misprint) before 
1480. A horrible revenge was said to have been taken by 
the Earl of Huntly and James Grant : see the well-known 
story of the orphans fed at a trough, in Scott's Tales of a 
Grandfather, chap, xxxix. 



203. THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



83 



ballad intimates the hospitality which is em- 
phasized by Sir Robert Gordon, and also the 
baron's unconsciousness of his having any foe 
to dread. (" An honest aged man," says 
Spotiswood, "against whom they could pre- 
tend no quarrel.") Other details are not per- 
tinent to the elder baron, but belong demon- 
strably to the Brackley who had a quarrel 
with Farquharson. 

Of the two, the older Brackley would have 
a better chance of being celebrated in a bal- 
lad. He was an aged and innocent man, slain 
while dispensing habitual hospitality, " slain 
under trust," The younger Brackley treated 
Inverey's people harshly, there was an en- 
counter, Brackley was killed, and others on 
both sides. His friends may have mourned 
for him, but there was no call for the feeling 
expressed in the ballad ; that would be more 
naturally excited by the death of the kindly 
old man, * who basely was slain.' On the 
whole it may be surmised that two occurrences, 
or even two ballads, have been blended, and 
some slight items of corroborative evidence 
may favor this conclusion. 

* The Gordons may mourn him and bann 
Inverey,' says B 14. It appears that the Earl 
of Aboyne sided with Inverey, though the 
Marquis of Huntly supported the laird of 
Brackley's son ; * whereas all the Gordons 
would have mourned the older baron, and none 
would have maintained the caterans who slew 
him. 

In the affray with the Farquharsons in 1666 
there were killed, of the Gordons, besides 
Brackley, his brother William and his cousin 
James Gordon of Cults. The Gordons killed 
by the Clanchattan in 1592 were Brackley, 
Henry Gordon of the Knock, an Alexander 
Gordon (also a Thomas). According to A 
34, 35, the Gordons killed were Brackley and 
his brother William, his cousin James of the 

* See the Memorandum for Farquharson in " Fourth Re- 
port," as above, p. 5')4. 
t Pointed out to me by Mr. Macmath, who, in making 



Knox [Knocks, Knock], and his uncle Alex- 
ander Gordon ; according to B 12, 13, there 
were killed, besides Brackley, "Harry Gordon 
and Harry of the Knock " (one and the same 
person), Brackley's brother, as we see from 
10 ; in D 10, the killed are Brackley, and Sandy 
Gordon o the Knock, called Peter in 21. A 
Gordon of the Knock is named as killed in A, 
B, D, and it is Henry Gordon in B ; an Alex- 
ander Gordon is named in A, B. A William 
Gordon and a James (of the Knocks, not of 
the Cults) are named in A. On the whole, X 
the names sort much better with the earlier 
story. 

In B 15 we are told that if Craigievar had 
come up an hour sooner, Brackley had not 
been slain. Upon this Dr Joseph Robert- 
son (who assigned the ballad to 1592) has 
observed, Kinloch MSS, VI, 24, that Crai- 
gievar passed to a branch of the family of 
Forbes in 1625 ; so that Craigievar would 
have done nothing to save Brackley in 1666, 
the Gordons and the Forbeses having long 
been at feud. To make sense of this stanza 
we must suppose an earlier date than 1625. 

The fourth edition of Spotiswood's history, 
printed in 1677 (about forty years after the 
author's death), calls Brackley of 1592 John 
Gordon. Further, there is this anonymous 
marginal note, not found in the preceding 
editions : " I have read in a MS. called the 
Acts of the Gordons, that Glenmuick, Glen- 
taner, Strathdee and Birs were spoiled, and 
Brachlie, with his son-in-law, slain, by Mackon- 
doquy [that is Maconochie, alias Campbell] 
of Inner-Aw." f 

Brackley, on the Muick, is in close vicinity 
to the village of Ballater, on the Dee, some 
forty miles westward from Aberdeen. 

Translated by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen 
Alt-Englands, p. 156, after Allingham. 

this and other communications relatinjj to the Gordons of 
Brackley, sujrgested and urged the hypothesis of a mix- 
ture of two events in this ballad. 



84 



,#' 



U 



*^ 



^ 



203. THE BARON 






1>* 

a. Scarce Ancient Ballads [Alexander Laing], Aberdeen, 
1822, p. 9. b. Buchan's Gleanings, p. 68. c. The New 
Deeside Guide, by James Brown (i. e. Joseph Robertson), 
Aberdeen [1832], p. 46. 

1 Inverey cam doun Deeside, whistlin and playin, 
He was at brave Braikley's yett ere it was 

dawin. 

2 He rappit fa loudly an wi a great roar, 
Cried, Cum doun, cum doun, Braikley, and 

open the door. 

3 * Are ye sleepin, Baronne, or are ye wakin ? 
Ther's sharpe swords at your yett, will gar 

your blood spin. 

4 * Open the yett, Braikley, and lat us within, 
Till we on the green turf gar your bluid rin.' 

5 Out spak the brave baronne, owre the castell- 

wa: 
* Are ye cum to spulyie and plunder mi ha ? 

6 ' But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum in : 
Gin ye drink o my wine, ye '11 nae gar my 

bluid spin. 

7 * Gin ye be hir'd widifus, ye may gang by. 
Ye may gang to the lawlands and steal their fat 

8 ' Ther spulyie like rievers o wyld kettrin clan, 
Who plunder unsparing baith houses and Ian. 

9 * Gin ye be gentlemen, licht an cum [in], 
Ther 's meat an drink i my ha for every man. 

10 ' Gin ye be hir'd widifus, ye may gang by. 
Gang doun to the lawlands, and steal horse and 

ky.' 

11 Up spak his ladie, at his bak where she lay, 

' Get up, get up, Braikley, and be not afraid ; 
The 'r but young hir'd widifus wi belted plaids.' 

12 * Cum kiss me, mi Peggy, I 'le nae langer stay, 
For I will go out and meet Inverey. 

13 ' But baud your tongue, Peggy, and mak nae 

sic din, 
For yon same hir'd widifus will prove them- 
selves men.' 



OF BRACKLEY 

14 She called on her marys, they cam to her 

hand ; 
Cries, Bring me your rocks, lassies, we will 
them command. 

15 ' Get up, get up, Braikley, and turn bak your 

ky, 
Or me an mi women will them defy. 

16 ' Cum forth then, mi maidens, and show them 

some play ; 
We '11 ficht them, and shortly the cowards will 
%. 

17 ' Gin I had a husband, whereas I hae nane. 
He woud nae ly i his bed and see his ky taen. 

18 ' Ther 's f our-and-twenty milk-whit calves, twal 

o them ky. 
In the woods o Glentanner, it 's ther thei a' ly. 

19 ' Ther 's goat i the Etnach, and sheep o the 

brae. 
An a' will be plunderd by young Inverey.' 

20 ' Now haud your tongue, Peggy, and gie me a 

gun, 
Ye '11 see me gae furth, but I '11 never cum in. 

21 * Call mi brothei' William, mi unkl also, ^ 
Mi cousin James Gordon; we'll mount and 

we '11 go.' 

22 When Braikley was ready and stood i the 

closs. 
He was the bravest baronne that eer mounted 
horse. 

23 Whan all wer assembld o the castell green. 
No man like brave Braikley was ther to be seen. 

24 

' Turn bak, brother William, ye are a bride- 
groom ; 

25 ' Wi bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o the mill ; 

sichin and sobbin she '11 soon get her fill.' 

26 ' I 'm no coward, brother, 't is kend I 'm a man ; 

1 '11 ficht i your quarral as lang 's I can stand. 

27 ' I '11 ficht, my dear brother, wi heart and gude 

will, 
And so will young Harry that lives at the mill. 



203. THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



85 



28 * But turn, mi dear brother, and nae langep 

stay: 
What '11 cum o your ladie, gin Braikley thei 
slay? 

29 * What '11 cum o your ladie and bonnie young 

son? 
O what '11 cum o them when Braikley is 



gone 



?' 



30 * I never will turn : do you think I will fly ? 
But here I will ficht, and here I will die.' 

31 * Strik dogs,' crys Inverey, ' and ficht till ye 're 

slayn, 
For we are four hundered, ye are but four 
men. 

32 * Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your honour is 

gone. 
Your lands we will plunder, your castell we '11 
burn.' 



35 Thei killd William Gordon, and James o the 

Knox, 
And brave Alexander, the flour o Glenmuick. 

36 What sichin and moaning was heard i the glen, 
For the Baronne o Braikley, who basely was 

slayn I 

37 ' Cam ye bi the castell, and was ye in there ? 
Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair ? ' 

38 ' Yes, I cam by Braikley, and I gaed in there. 
And there [saw] his ladie braiding her hair. 

39 ' She was rantin, and dancin, and singin for 

joy, ^ 
And vowin that nicht she woud feest Inverey. 

40 ' She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him 

in, 
Was kind to the man that had slayn her bar- 
onne.' 



33 At the head o the Etnach the battel began. 
At Little Auchoilzie thei killd the first man. 

34 First thei killd ane, and soon they killd twa, 
Thei killd gallant Braikley, the flour o them a'. 



41 Up spake the son on the nourice's knee, 

* Gin I live to be a man, revenged I '11 be.' 

42 Ther 's dool i the kitchin, and mirth i the ha. 
The Baronne o Braikley is dead and awa. 



B 



Kinloch MSS, V, 379, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton. 

1 * Baron of Brackley, are ye in there ? 

The 're sharp swords at yer yetts, winna ye 
spear.' 

2 ' If they be gentlemen, lat them cum in ; 

But if they be reavers, we'll gar them be 
taen.' 

3 ' It is na gentlemen, nor yet pretty lads. 

But a cum hir'd widdifus, wears belted 
plaids.* 

4 She called on her women and bade them come 

in: 
* Tack a' yer rocks, lasses, and we '11 them 
coman. 



5 ' We '11 f echt them, we '11 slight them, we '11 do 

what we can. 
And I vow we will shoot them altho we shod 
bang. 

6 ' Eise up, John,' she said, ' and turn in yer 

kye. 
For they '11 hae them to the Hielands, and you 
they '1 defie.' 

7 * Had your still, Catharine, and still yer young 

son, 
For ye '11 get me out, but I '11 never cum in.' 

8 ' If I had a man, as I hae na nane. 

He wudna lye in his bed and see his kye tane.' 

9 * Ye '11 cum kiss me, my Peggy, and bring me 

my gun, 
For I 'm gaing out, but I '11 never cum in.' 



86 



203. THE BARON OP BRAOKLEY 



10 There was twenty wi Invery, tweniy and 

ten; 
There was nana wi the baron but his brother 
and him. 

11 At the head of Eeneeten the battle began ; 
Ere they wan Auehoilzie, they killed mony a 

man. 

12 They killed Harry Gordon and Harry of the 

Knock, 
The mullertd's four sons up at Glenmuick. 

13 They killed Harry Gordon and Harry of the 

Knock, 
And they made the brave baron like kail to a 
pot. 

14 First they killed ane, and then they killed 

twa, 
Then they killed the brave barou, the flower o 
them a'. 



15 Then up came Craigievar, and a party wi him ; 
If he had come an hour sooner, Brackley had 

not been slain. 

16 ' Came ye by Brackley ? and was ye in there ? 
Or say ye his lady, was making great care ? ' 

17 * I came by Brackley, and I was in there, 
But I saw his lady no makin great care. 

18 * For she eat wi them, drank wi them, welcomed 

them in ; 
She drank to the villain that killed her guid 
man. 

19 * Woe to ye, Kate Fraser ! sorry may yer heart 

be. 
To see yer brave baron's blood cum to yer 
knee.' 

20 There is dule in the kitchen, and mirth i the ha, 
But the Baron o B[rjackley is dead and awa. 



a. Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. vili, as transcribed 
for Janiieson by Kev. Andrew Brown, and sent him by Mrs 
Brown in a letter of June 18, 1801. b. Jamit son's Popular 
Ballads, 1, 102 ; Mrs. Brown's copy combined with an imper- 
fect one taken down by Sir W. Scott " from the recitation 
of two ladies, great-grandchildren of Farquharson of Inve- 

1 O Inverey came down Dee side, whistling and 

playing ; 
He 's landed at Braikly's yates at the day daw- 
ing. 

2 Says, Baron of Braikly, are ye within ? 
There 's sharp swords at the yate will gar your 

blood spin. 

3 The lady raise up, to the window she went ; 
She heard her kye lowing oer hill and oer 

bent. 

4*0 rise up, John,' she says, * turn back your 
kye; 
They 're oer the hills rinning, they 're skipping 
away.* 



6 * Come to your bed, Peggie, and let the kye 
rin. 
For were I to gang out, I would never get in.' 

6 Then she 's cry'd on her women, they quickly 

came ben : 
* Take up your rocks, lassies, and fight a* like 
men. 

7 ' Though I 'm but a woman, to head you I '11 

try, 
Nor let these vile Highland-men steal a' our 
kye.' 

8 Then up gat the baron, and cry'd for his 

graith ; 
Says, Lady, I 'U gang, tho to leave you I 'm 
laith. 

9 * Come, kiss me, my Peggie, nor think I *m to 

blame ; 
For I may well gang out, but I '11 never win in.' 

10 When the Baron of Braikly rade through the 
close, 
A gallanter baron neer mounted a horse. 



303. THE BARON OF BRAOKLEY 



87 



11 Tho there came wi Inverey thirty and three, 
There was nane wi bonny Braikly but his 

brother and he. 

12 Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw ; 
But against four and thirty, wae 's me, what 

was twa ? 

13 Wi swords and wi daggers they did him sur- 

round, 
And they Ve pierc'd bonny Braikly wi mony 
a wound. 

14 Frae the head of the Dee to the banks of the 

Spey, 
The Gordons may mourn him, and bann In- 
verey. 

15 ' came ye by Braikly, and was ye in there ? 
Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair ? ' 

,16 *0 I came by Braikly, and I was in there. 
But I saw not his Peggy dear riving her hair.' 



17 * fye on ye, lady ! how could ye do sae ? 
You opend your yate to the faus Inverey.* 

18 She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him 

in; 
She welcomd the villain that slew her baron. 

19 She kept him till morning, syne bad him be 

gane. 
And showd him the road that he woud na be 
tane. 

20 * Thro Birss and Aboyne,' she says, * lyin in a 

tour, 
Oer the hills of Glentanor you '11 skip in an 
hour.' 

21 There is grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the 

ha, 
But the Baron of Braikly is dead and awa. 



Skene MS., p. 110; north of Scotland, 1802-3. 

1 * Baron o Breachell, are ye within ? 

The sharp souerd is at yer gate, Breachell, 
we 'U gar yer blood spin.' 

2 * Thei 'r at yer gate, Breachel, thei 'r neither 

men nor lads, 
But fifty heard widifas, wi belted plaids.' 

3 ' if I had a man,' she says, ' as it looks I had 

nane, 
He widna sit in the house and see my kye tane. 

4 ' But lasses tak down yer rocks, and we will 

defend 



5 * kiss me, dear Peggy, and gee me down my 

gun, 
I may well ga out, but I '11 never come in.' 

6 Out spak his brither, says, Gee me yer hand ; 
I '11 fight in yer cause sae lang as I may stand. 



7 Whan the Baron o Breachell came to the closs, 
A braver baron neir red upon horse. 



8 



I think the silly heard widifas are grown 
fighten men. 

9 First they killed ane, and syen they killed twa, 
And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. 

10 They killed Sandy Gordon, Sandy Gordon o 

the Knock, 
The miller and hb three sons, that lived at 
Glenmuick. 

11 First they killed ane, and seyn they killed twa, 
And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. 

12 Up came Crigevar and a' his fighten men : 

* Had I come an hour soonur, he sudna been 
slain.' 

13 For first they killed ane, and seyn they killed 

twa, 
And the Baron o Breachell is dead and awa. 



88 



203. THE BAKON OF BRAOKLEY 



14 * O came ye by Breachell, lads ? was ye in 

their ? 
Saw ye Peggy Dann riving her hair ? ' 

15 ' We cam by Breachell, lads, we was in there. 
And saw Peggie Dann cairling her hair. 

16 ' She eat wi them, drank wi them, bad them 

come in 
To her house an hours that had slain her baron. 

17 ' Come in, gentlemen, eat and drink wi me ; 
Tho ye ha slain my baron, I ha na a wite at ye.' 

18 ' O was [ye] at Glenmuik, lads ? was ye in 

theire ? 
Saw ye Cathrin Gordon rivin her hair ? ' 



19 * We was at Glenmuik, lads, we was in 

there, 
We saw Cathrin Gordon rivin her hair. 

20 ' Wi the tear in her eye, seven bairns at her 

foot. 
The eighth on her knee . . . 

21 They killed Peter Gordon, Peter Gordon of 

the Knock, 
The miller and his three sons, that lived at 
Glenmuik. 

22 First they killed ane, and syn they killed 

twa. 
And the Baron of Breachell is dead and 
awa. 



A. No division of stanzas. Both copies are prob- 
ably from stall-prints or broadsides, b dif- 
fers frequently from a in spelling. 

a. 5*, 8^. spulzie. 6^ gentlmen. 
118, 25S401. ^e for wi. 

22\ thee. 30^ I will never. 

b. 11^. laid. 11*. young wanting. 
13^. prove to be men. 15'^. For me. 
16^ ply. 19^ Ther are goats. 

20^*. never return. 22^. thee. 

25^^. seen (phonetic). 26\ it 's kent. 

30^ I never will : ye. 30^. No, here. 

34^. an syne. 36^. was heard. 38*. ther said. 

c. This copy is to the extent of about two thirds 

taken from a; half a dozen stanzas are 
from Jamieson's text, C b; half a dozen 
more agree, nearly or entirely, with B, 
and may have been derived from Dr. J. H. 
Burton, or directly from some traditional 
source. The order has been regulated by 
the editor, who has also made a slight ver- 
bal change now and then. 
1-3 = a 1-3. 4-8 = 5-9. 9 = 11^'*, near- 
ly (c 9^ and face Inverey). ll'^ = 13^^. 
12-14 = 18, 19, 17. 15 = 15, nearly: 
cf B 6\ 17* = 16*^. 18 = 20, nearly. 
19 = 21. 22 = 31, with different num- 
bers. 23 = 33 : Reneatan for Efcnach, cf. 
B 11^. 24 = 35. 25 = 34. 29 = 38. 
30 = 39. 31^ = 401. 322 _ 492^ b 18«- 
35 = 41. 36 = 42. 37 = 36. 



FromCh. 20 = 12. 21 z= IS, nearly. 26 
= 16. 33, 34 = 23, 24, nearly. 38 = 17. 
10 (nearly B 6 : cf.o 15^). 

Get up, get up Brackley, and turn back your 

kye, 
Or they '11 hae them to the Highlands, and 

you they '11 defy. 

16 (nearly B 4 : cf. a 14) : 

She called on her maidens, and bade them 

come in : 
Tak a' your rocks, lasses, we will them com- 

man. 

27 (nearly B 15 : cf D 12). Had he come 
one hour, etc. 

28 = B 16. 312 _ B 182 (a 40^). She 
drank to the villain that killed her barrone. 

32 = B 19, nearly. Wae to you, Kate Fra- 
ser, sad may your heart be. 

B. 11^ Keneeten perhaps : b. Reneatan. 

12^ They for The. y 

C. a. Not divided, but roughly mxirked off into v 

stanzas of four verses. 
6". frocks /or rocks. 
b. 1^. Down Dee side came Inverey. 
1'. lighted at Brackley yates. 
2}. O are. 4^. rise up, ye baron, and. 



203. THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



89 



4*. For the lads o Drumwhaxran are driving 
them bye. 

5. *How can I rise, lady, or turn them- again? 
Whareer I have ae man, I wat they hae 

ten.' 

6. * Then rise up, my lasses, tak rocks in your 

hand. 
And turn back the kye ; I hae you at com- 
mand. 

7. * Gin I had a husband, as I hae nane. 

He wadna lye in his bower, see his kye 
tane.' 

8^ got. 
After 8 : 

Come kiss me then, Peggy, and gie me my 

speir ; 
I ay was for peace, fcho I never feard weir. 

9^. me then, Peggy. O**. I weel may gae out. 
10^. When Brakley was busked and rade oer 

the closs. 
10^. neer lap to a. 
After 10 : 

When Braekley was mounted and rade oer 

the green. 
He was as bald a baron as ever was seen. 



12 



12'. what is. 15^. by Braekley yates, was. 

16^. by Braekley yates, I. 

16'. And I saw his Peggy a-making good 

cheer. 
After 16 : 

The lady she feasted them, carried them 

ben; 
She laughd wi the men that her baron had 

slain. 

17^. on you : could you. 17'. yates. 

19'. shoudna. 

" Poetical justice requires that I should subjoin 
the concluding stanza of the fragment, which 
could not be introduced into the text ; as the 
reader cannot be displeased to learn that 
the unworthy spouse of the amiable, affec- 
tionate, and spirited baron of Braekley was 
treated by her unprincipled gallant as she 
deserved, and might have expected : 

inverey spak a word, he spak it wrang ; 
' My wife and my bairns will be thinking 
lang.' 

' O wae fa ye, Inverey ! ill mat ye die ! 
First to kill Braekley, and then to slight me.' 

D. Title, 1\ etc. Breachell. Perhaps miscopied 
hy Skene from Breachlie ; and so Crigeran, 
12^, for Crigevar. 
17'. at thee. 



90 



a04. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



204 

JAMIE DOUGLAS 



A. *Lord Douglas,' or, 'The Laird of Blackwood,' 
Kinloch MSS, I, 93. 

B. 'Jamie Douglas,' Kinloch MSS, V, 887. 

C. ' Lady Douglas and Blackwood,' Kinloch MSS, V, 
207, I, 103. 

D. 'Jamie Douglas,' Kinloch MSS, I, 107. 

E. ' The Laird o Blackwood,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 127; 
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 58. 

F. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 507. 

G. ' Lord Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 845. 
H. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 297. 



I. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 500. 

J. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 299. 

K. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 302. 

L. ' Jamie Douglas,' Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 4. 

M. Herd's MSS, I, 54 ; Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, 
I, 144. 

O. 'Lord Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 
Appendix, p. v, the last three stanzas. 

N. 'Jamie Douglas,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appen- 
dix, p. xvii, IX, one stanza. 



This ballad first appeared in print in the 
second edition of Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, 
but only as a fragment of five stanzas. Pink- 
erton repeats three stanzas from Herd, very 
slightly " polished by the editor," Tragic 
Ballads, 1781, pp. 83, 119. A stall-copy, 
> says Motherwell, was printed in 1798, under 
the title of *Fair Orange Green.' A and 
O were used by Aytoun for the copy given 
in his second edition, 1859, I, 133, and D 
for Part Fourth of Chambers's compilation, 
Scottish Ballads; p. 157. The "traditionary 
version," in thirty-four stanzas, given in the 
Appendix to Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. v 
(see his Introduction, p. Ixiii, note 5), is made 
up, all but the fifth stanza and the three last, 
from P- J and O : see note to N. 

Lady Barbara Erskine, eldest daughter of 
John, Earl of Mar, was married to James, 
second Marquis of Douglas, near the end of 
the year 1670. The marriage did not prove 
to be happy, and the parties were formally 
separated in 1681. They had had one child, 
James, Earl of Angus, and he having been 
killed in battle in the Netherlands in 1692, the 



Marquis of Douglas married again, and had 
two sons and a daughter. The second of the 
sons was Archibald, the third marquis, and 
first and only duke of Douglas. 

In an affectionate letter of December, 1676 
(succeeding several others to which no an- 
swer had been returned), the Marchioness of 
Douglas writes to her husband: "I am not 
such a stranger to myself to pretend to the 
exactness of obedience and duty that my 
humor or frowardness may not have offended 
you, and all I can say is, that hereafter I shall 
so study yours and what may please you that 
I shall endeavor a conformity to your good will 
so near as I can. This only I must (most) 
complain of, that you should retain those in 
your service or company who takes the liberty 
of talking so much to the prejudice of your 
honor and mine. Sure I am I never give the 
least occasion for it, neither do I think, my 
dear, that you really believe it. If religion 
and virtue were not ties strong enough, sense 
of your honor and mine own, and of that 
noble family of yours and our posterity, could 
not but prevail against such base thoughts. 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



91 



and God, who knows my heart, knows my 
innocence and the malice of those who wounds 
us both by such base calumnies." In Febru- 
ary, 1677, the marchioness (not for the first 
time, as it appears) invokes the interposition 
of the Privy Council in her domestic affairs, 
and applies for an "aliment" on which she 
may live apart from her husband, whom she 
charges with shunning her company and 
treating her with contempt. The marquis in 
his reply alleges that his wife had not treated 
him with due respect, but seems to be averse 
to a separation. Four years after, a separation 
was mutually agreed to, and in the contract 
to this effect the ground is expressed to be 
"great animosities, mistakes and differences be- 
twixt the said marquis and his lady, which have 
risen to a great height, so as neither of them 
are satisfied longer to continue together." * 

The blame of the alienation of Douglas from 
his wife is imputed by tradition to William 
Lawrie, the marquis's principal chamberlain 
or factor, who was appointed to that place in 
1670, the year of the marriage. Lawrie mar- 
ried Marion Weir, of the family of Blackwood, 
then a widow. He is often styled the laird 
of Blackwood, a title which belonged to his 
son by this marriage, his own proper designa- 
tion being, after that event, the Tutor of 
Blackwood. " The belief that Blackwood 
was the chief cause of this unhappy quarrel 
was current at the time among the Douglas 
tenantry, with whom he was very unpopular, 
and it is corroborated by letters and other doc- 
uments in the Douglas charter-chest. The 
marchioness, indeed, evinces temper, but the 
marquis appears to have been morose and 



peevish, and incapable of managing his own 
affairs. In this matter he consulted, and was 
advised by, Blackwood at every step, sending 
him copies of the letters he wrote to his wife, 
and subscribing whatever document Black- 
wood thought fit to prepare. Members of the 
family and dependents alike characterized 
Lawrie as hypocritical and double-dealing; but 
on the other hand, it is only fair to mention 
that on two occasions, Charles, Earl of Mar, 
wrote to Blackwood thanking him for his 
kindness to his sister, and assuring him of his 
esteem." t 

John, Earl of Mar, the father of Lady 
Barbara Erskine, died in 1668, before his 
daughter's marriage, and it would have been 
her brother Charles, the next earl, who took 
her home. He was colonel of a regiment of 
foot at the time of the separation, whence, prob- 
ably, the drums, trumpets, and soldiers in the 
ballad. Barbara Douglas died in 1690, two 
years before the marquis's second marriage. 

The reciter of A, who got her information 
from an old dey at Douglas castle, as far back 
as 1770, told Kinloch that the ballad was a 
great favorite with Archibald, Duke of Doug- 
las, who lived till 1761. " The Duke used 
often to get the old dey to sing it to him 
while he wheeled round the room in a gilded 
chair . . . and muttered anathemas against 
Lourie, saying, O that Blackwood must have 
been a damned soul ! " $ 

The story of the ballad is very simple. A 
lady, daughter of the Earl of Mar, B, I, mar- 
ried to Lord James Douglas, Marquis of 
Douglas, D, lives happily wilh him until 
Blackwood (Blacklaywood, Blackly) makes 



* Fraser, Th« Douglas Book, Edinburgh, 1885, IT, 277 f, 
449 f. The contract, being a mutual paper, may not express 
to the full the supposed grievances of either party. 

t The Douglas Book, II, 450 f. " Liwrie is mpntioned 
by Lord Fountainhall as 'late chamberlain to the Miirquis 
of Douglas, and repute a bad instrument between him and 
his lady in their differences.' Decisions, I, 196." 

What should prompt Lawrie to malice against the 
marchioness is unknown. Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Bal- 
lads, p. 58, accepting the story of the old woman from 
whom he obtained E, says: ''The Laird of Blackwood and 

the Marquis of were rivals in the affection of a lovely 

and amiable young lady, who, preferring the latter, became 
his wife. Blackwood . . . vowed revenge," etc. Cham- 
bers, who repeats this account, Scottish Ballads, p. 150, re- 



marks that Lawrie seems to have been considerably advanced 
in life at the time. Lawrie's son made a " retour of services " 
in 16.50, and may be supposed then to have been of age. 
The Marquis of Douglas was in his twenty-fourth year 
when he married, in 1670, and probably Lady Barbara 
Erskine was not older. Maidment is surprised that Lawrie, 
"a man of uncertnin lineage,'' should have succeeded wiih 
the widow Marion Weir. What is to be thought of his 
aspiring, at the age of sixty, or more, to " the affection of a 
lovely and amiable young lady " of the family of Mar, one 
of the most ancient in Scotland 1 

X Kinloch MSS, I, 95 f. For one or two points see Maid- 
ment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1868, II, 262 ff., the 
preface to the ballad there called ' Lady Barbara Erskine's 
Lament.' 



92 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



her husband believe that she has trespassed 
(with one Lockhart, A). Her protestations 
of innocence and the blandishments with 
which she seeks to win back her lord's affec- 
tions are fruitless. Her father sends for her 
and takes her home. He offers to get a bill 
of divorce and make a better match for her, 
but she will listen to no such proposal. 

The lady is daughter of the Earl of York, 
D ; her brother is the Duke of York (a some- 
what favorite personage in ballads), B ; her 
mother is daughter of the Duke of York, G, 
and her father is the Lord of Murray. Her 
husband is the Earl of March, I (and P?). 
Had she foreseen the event of the mar- 
riage with Douglas, she would have staid 
at Lord Torchard's gates (Argyle's, Athol's, 
Lord Orgul's) and have been his lady, G, 
H, I, L, or in fair Orange green and have 
been his (Orange's?) K. (Orange gate ap- 
pears in D, also, and so it may be Orange 
wine, and not orange, that Jamie Douglas 
is invited to drink in I 5.) A handsome 
nurse makes trouble in F 6, but nowhere 
else. It is not Blackwood that whispers mis- 
chief into the husband's ear in J 4, but a 
small bird; a black bird, fause bird, in two 
of Finlay's three copies, a blackie in the 
other, L. In B 7 the lady will not wash her 
face, comb her hair, or have fire or light in 
her bower: cf. Nos 69, 92, II, 156, 317. In 
I 15, when the lady had returned to her 
father's and the tenants came to see her, she 
could not speak, and " the buttons off her 
clothes did flee ; " " an affecting image of 
overpowering grief," says Chambers. See 
also ' Andrew Laramie.' 

D 10-15, N, are palpable and vulgar tags 

* "Matthew Crawford, weaver, Howwood, sings 'Jamie 
Douglas ' with the conclusion in which the lady dies after 
her return and reconciliation with her lord." Motherwell's 
Note-Book, p. 56. 

" I was informed by A. Lile that she has heard a longer 
set of the ballad in which, while Lady Douglas is continu- 
ing her lament, she observes a troop of gentlemen coming 
to her father's, and she expresses a wish that these should 
be sent by her lord to bring her home. They happen to be 
sent for that purpose, and she accompanies them. On her 
meeting, however, with her lord, and while putting a cup of 
wine to her lips, her heart breaks, and she drops down dead 
at his feet." Motherwell, note to G, MS., p. 347. 

Lawrie came near losing his head in 1683 for political 
reasons, but he survived the revolution of 1688, "got all 



to a complete story. James Douglas comes 
to his father-in-law's house with his three 
children, and sends a soldier to the gate to bid 
his lady come down ; he has hanged false 
Blackwood, and she is to come home : N. In 
D the hanging of Blackwood is not men- 
tioned ; Douglas calls for wine to drink to his 
gay lady, she takes a cup in her hand, but her 
heart breaks.* 

A-M have all from one stanza to four of a 
beautiful song, known from the first quarter of 
the eighteenth century, and printed fifty years 
earlier than any copy of the ballad.f This 
song is the lament of an unmarried woman for 
a lover who has proved false, and, as we find 
by the last stanza, has left her with an unborn 
babe. A, O have this last stanza, although 
the lady in these copies has born three chil- 
dren (as she has in every version except the 
fragmentary E).| 

WALY, WALY, GIN LOVE BE BONY. 

a. Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, the second volume, 
published before 1727 ; here from the Dublin edition of 1729, 
p. 176. b. Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, second edition, 
1733, 1, 71 ; four stanzas in the first edition, 1725, No 34. § 

' 1 O WALY, waly up the bank ! 

And waly, waly, down the brae ! 
And waly, waly yon burn-side, 

Where I and my love wont to gae ! 

2 I leand my back unto an aik, 
I thought it was a trusty tree ; 
But first it bowd, and syne it brak, 
Sae my true-love did lightly me. 

V 3 O waly, waly ! but love be bony 
A httle time, while it is new ; 

the proceedings against him annulled, ana a complete re- 
habilitation." "Wodrow, II, 295; Maidment, 1868, II, 
268. 

t All but E have b 4 : E has a 4. All but A, D, E, L, M 
have 1. A, C, E have 10 ; J has 2, 3 ; A has 8; F has 9. 

t It must be said, however, that stanza 8, ' When we came, 
in by Glasgow town,' etc., hardly suits the song, and would 
be entirely appropriate to the ballad (as it is in A 2). It 
may have been taken up from this ballad (which must date IX 
from the last quarter of the seventeenth century), or from 
some other. 

§ a is followed in Percy's Reliques, 1765, III, 144, Herd, 
Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 196; b, in the 
Musical Museum, p. 166, No 158; with slight variations in 
each copy. 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



93 



But when 't is auld, it waxeth cauld, 
And fades away like morning dew. 

•y 4 O wherefore shoud I busk my head ? 

Or wherf ore shoud I kame my hair ? 
For my true-love has me forsook, 
And says he '11 never love me mair. 

6 Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed, 

The sheets shall neer be fyl'd by me ; 
Saint Anton's well shall be my drink, 
Since my true-love has forsaken me. 

6 Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, 

And shake the green leaves o£B the tree ? 

gentle death, when wilt thou come ? 
For of my life I am weary. 

7 'T is not the frost that freezes fell, 

Nor blawing snaw's inclemency ; 
'T is not sic cauld that makes me cry, 
But my love's heart grown cauld to me. 

^ 8 When we came in by Glasgow town, 
We were a comely sight to see ; 
My love was cled in the black velvet, 
And I my sell in cramasie. 

V 9 But had I wist, before I kissd. 

That love had been sae ill to win, 

1 'd lockd my heart in a case of gold, 

And pin'd it with a silver pin. 



V 10 Oh, oh, if my young babe were born. 
And set upon the nurse's knee. 
And I my sell were dead and gane ! 
For a maid again I '11 never be. 

A stanza closely resembling the third of this 
song occurs in a Yule medley in Wood's MSS, 
about 1620.* 

Hey trollie loUie, love is jolly 

A qhyll qhill it is new ; 
Qhen it is old, it grows full cold. 

Woe worth the love untrew ! 

The Orpheus Caledonius has for the fourth 
stanza this, which is found (with variations) 
in A-M, excepting the imperfect copy B : 

When cockle-shells turn siller bells. 
And mussles grows on evry tree, 

When frost and snaw shall warm us a', 
Then shall my love prove true to me. 

Ed. 1725. 

Several stanzas occur in a song with the 
title 'Arthur's Seat shall be my bed,' etc., 
which is thought to have been printed as early 
as the Tea-Table Miscellany, or even consid- 
erably earlier. This song is given in an 
appendix. 

Aytoun's ballad, 1859, I, 135, is loosely 
translated by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, 
p. 59. 



A L/^ 

Kinloch MSS, I, 93; from the recitation of Mary Barr, 
Lesmahago, Lanarkshire, May, 1827, and learned by her 
about sixty years before from an old dey at Douglas 
Castle. 

1 I WAS a lady of high renown 

As lived in the north countrie ; 
I was a lady of high renown 
Whan Earl Douglas loved me. 

* Scottish Psalter, 1566, Wood's MSS, Bassus, Laing's 
MSS, University of Edinburgh, MS. Books, 483, III, p. 209. 
The medley is by a different and later hand: Laing in the 
Musical Museum, 1853, I, xxviii f., IV, 440*. It is printed 
in the second edition of Forbea's Cautus, Aberdeen, 1666. 



2 Whan we came through Glasgow toon, 

We war a comely sight to see ; 
My gude lord in velvet green, 
And I mysel in cramasie. 

3 Whan we cam to Douglas toun, 

We war a fine sight to behold ; 
My gude lord in cramasie. 
And I myself in shining gold. 



There was a much older stave, or proverb, to the same pxir- 
port, as we see by Chaucer's Clerk's Tale, vv. 855, 57. 

But sooth is seyd, algate I fynde it trewe, 
Loue is noght old as whan that it is newe. 



94 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



4 Whan that my auld son was horn, 
And set upon the nurse's knee, 
I was as happy a woman as eer was horn, 
And my gude lord he loved me. 

; 6 But oh, an my young son was horn, 
And set upon the nurse's knee. 
And I mysel war dead and gane, 
For a maid again I '11 never he ! 

6 There cam a man into this house, 

And Jamie Lockhart was his name, 
And it was told to my gude lord 
That I was in the hed wi him. 

7 There cam anither to this house, 

And a bad friend he was to me ; 
He put Jamie's shoon below my bed-stock, 
And bade my gude lord come and see. 

8 wae be unto thee, Blackwood, 

And ae an ill death may ye dee ! 
For ye was the first and the foremost man 
That parted my gude lord and me, 

9 Whan my gude lord cam in my room, 

This grit falsehood for to see, 
He turnd about, and, wi a gloom, 
He straucht did tak farewell o me. 

10 * fare thee well, my once lovely maid ! 
fare thee well, once dear to me ! 



fare thee well, my once lovely maid ! 
For wi me again ye sail never be.' 

11 ' Sit doun, sit doun, Jamie Douglas, 

Sit thee doun and dine wi me. 
And 111 set thee on a chair of gold. 
And a silver towel on thy knee.' 

12 * Whan cockle-shells turn silver bells. 

And mussels they bud on a tree, 
Whan frost and snaw turns fire to burn, 
Then I '11 sit down and dine wi thee.' 

13 O wae be unto thee, Blackwood, 

And ae an ill death may ye dee ! 
Ye war the first and the foremost man 
That parted my gude lord and me. 

14 Whan my father he heard word 

Tliat my gude lord had forsaken me, 
He sent fifty o his brisk dragoons 
To fesh me hame to my ain countrie. 

15 That morning before I did go. 

My bonny palace for to leave, 

1 went into my gude lord's room. 

But alas ! he wad na speak to me. 

16 * Fare thee well, Jamie Douglas ! 

Fare thee well, my ever dear to me ! 
Fare thee well, Jamie Douglas ! 

Be kind to the three babes I 've born to thee.' 



B 



Kinloch MSS, V, 387, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton when a youth. 



n/ 



1 Waly, waly up the bank ! 

And waly, waly down the brae ! 
And waly, waly to yon burn-side, 
Where me and my love wunt to gae ! 

2 As I lay sick, and very sick. 

And sick was I, and like to die, 
And Blacklay wood put in my love's ears 
That he staid in bower too lang wi me. 

3 As I lay sick, and very sick, 

And sick was I, and like to die. 



And walking into my garden green, 
I heard my good lord lichtlie me. 

4 Now woe betide ye, Blacklaywood ! 
I 'm sure an ill death you must die ; 
Ye '11 part me and my ain good lord, 
And his face again I '11 never see. 

6 * Come down stairs now, Jamie Douglas, 

Come down stairs and drink wine wi me ; 
I '11 set thee into a chair of gold. 

And not one farthing shall it cost thee.' 

V 6 * When cockle-shells turn silver bells, 
And muscles g^ow on every tree, 
When frost and snaw turn fiery baas, 

I '11 come down the stair and drink wine wi 
thee.' 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



95 



7 * What 's needs me value you, Jamie Douglas, 

More than you do value me ? 
The Earl of Mar is my father, 

The Duke of York is my brother gay. 

8 * But when my father gets word o this, 

I trow a sorry man he '11 be ; 
He '11 send four score o his soldiers brave 
To tak me hame to mine ain countrie.* 

9 As I lay owre my castell-wa, 

I beheld my father comin for me, 
Wi trumpets sounding on every side ; 
But they werena music at a' for me. 

10 ' And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas ! 

And fare ye weel, my children three ! 
And fare ye weel, my own good lord ! 
For my face again ye shall never see. 

11 ' And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas ! 

And fare ye weel, my children three 1 



And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas ! 
But my youngest son shall gae wi me.' 

12 * What ails ye at yer youngest son, 
Sits smilin at the nurse's knee ? 
I 'm sure he never knew any harm. 
Except it was from his nurse or thee.' 



13 



And when I was into my coaches set. 
He made his trumpets a' to soun. 

14 I 've heard it said, and it 's oft times seen, 

The hawk that flies far f rae her nest ; 
And a' the world shall plainly see 
It 's Jamie Douglas that I love best. 

15 Ive heard it said, and [it 's] oft times seen. 

The hawk that flies from tree to tree ; 
And a' the world shall plainly see 
It 's for Jamie Douglas I maun die. 



Kinloch MSS, V, 207, 1, 103 ; from John Rae, Lesmahago. 

^10 WALLT, wally up yon bank ! 
And wally down yon brae ! 
And wally, wally up yon burn-side, 
Where me and my lord wont to gae ! 

2 I leand me on yon saugh sae sweet, 

I leand me on yon saugh sae sour, 
And my gude lord has forsaken me. 
And he swears he '11 never loe me more. 

3 There came a young man to this town, 

And Jamie Lockhart was his name ; 
Fause Blackwood lilted in my lord's ear 
That I was in the bed wi him. 

4 * Come up, come up, Jamie Douglas, 

Come up, come up and dine wi me, 
And I '11 set thee in a chair of gold. 
And use you kindly on my knee.' 



s/ 



5 * When cockle-shells turn silver bells. 
And mussels hing on every tree. 



When frost and snow turn fire-brands. 
Then I '11 come up and dine wi thee.' 

6 When my father and mother they got 

word 
That my good lord had forsaken me, 
They sent fourscore of soldiers brave 
To bring me hame to my ain countrie. 

7 That day that I was forc'd to go, 

My pretty palace for to leave, 
I went to the chamber were my lord lay. 
But alas ! he wad na speak to me. 

8 * O fare ye weel, Jamie Douglas ! 

And fare ye weel, my children three ! 
I hope your father will prove mair kind 
To you than he has been to me. 

9 * You take every one to be like yoursel. 

You take every one that comes unto thee ; 
But I could swear by the heavens high 
That I never knew anither man but thee. 

10 * O foul fa ye, fause Blackwood, 

And an ill death now may ye die ! 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



For ye was the first occasioner 
Of parting my gude lord and me.' 

11 Whan we gaed in by Edinburgh town, 

My father and mither they met me, 
Wi trumpets sounding on every side ; 
But alas ! they could na cherish me. 

12 * Hold your tongue, daughter,' my father said, 

* And with your weeping let me be ; 
And we 'U get out a bill of divorce, 
And I '11 get a far better lord to thee.' 



13 ' hold your tongue, father,' she says, 

' And with your talking let me be ; 
I wad na gie a kiss o my ain lord's lips 
For a' the men in the west country.' 

14 Oh an I had my baby born, 

And set upon the nurse's knee. 
And I myself were dead and gone ! 
For a maid again I will never be. 



Kinloch MSS, 1, 107 : " West-Country version." 

1 I FELL sick, and very, very sick. 

Sick I was, and like to dee ; 
A friend o mine cam frae the west, 

A friend o mine came me to see. 
And the black told it to my gude lord 

He was oure lang in the chamber wi me. 



2 ' Come doun the stair, Jamie Douglas, 

Come doun and drink wine wi me ; 
I '11 set ye on a chair of gold. 

And not ae farthing will it cost thee.' 

3 ' Whan cockle-shells turn siller bells, 

And fishes flee frae tree to tree, 
Whan frost and snaw turn fire-beams, 
I '11 come doun and drink wine wi thee.* 



6 Whan I was set in my coach and six. 

Taking fareweel o my babies three, 

' I beg your father's grace to be kind. 

For your face again I '11 never see.' 



7 As I was walking up London streets. 

My father was coming to meet me, 

Wi trumpets sounding on every side ; 

But that was na music at a' for me. 

8 ' Hold your tongue, my dochter dear, 

And of your weeping let abee ; 
A bill o divorcement I '11 send to him, 
A far better match I '11 get for thee.' 

9 ' Hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And with your folly let abee ; 
There '11 never man sleep in my twa arms. 
Sin my gude lord has forsaken me.' 



4 ' What ails ye at your young son James, 

That sits upo the nurse's knee ? 
I 'm sure he never did ye no harm. 
If it war na for the nurse or me. 

5 * What care I for you, Jamie Douglas ? 

Not a small pin I value thee ; 
For my father he is the Earl of York, 

And of that my mither 's the gay ladie ; 
They will send fourscore of his soldiers bold 

For to tak me hame to my ain countrie.' 



10 As I was sitting at my bouer-window. 

What a blythe sicht did I see ! 
I saw four score of his soldiers bold. 

And I wishd that they were coming for me. 

11 Out bespeaks the foremost man, 

And what a weel-spoken man was he ! 
' If the Marquis o Douglas's lady be within. 
You '11 bid her come doun and speak to 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



97 



12 It 's out bespak my auld father then, 

I wat an angry man was he ; 
* Ye may gang back the road ye cam, 
For her face again ye '11 never see.' 

13 * Hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And with your folly let abee ; 
For I '11 ga back, and I '11 ne'er return ; 
Do ye think I love you as weel as he ? ' 



14 As I cam in by the Orange gate, 
What a blythe sicht did I see ! 
I saw Jamie Douglas coming me to meet, 
And at his foot war his babies three. 

16 * Ga fetch, ga fetch a bottle of wine, 

That I may drink to my gay ladie ; ' 
She took the cup into her hand, 

But her bonnie heart it broke in three. 



E 



Kinloch MSS, VII, 127 ; 24 April, 1826, from the recita- 
tion of Jenny Watson, Lanark, aged 73, wlio had it from her 
grandmother. 

1 I LAY sick, and very sick, 

And I was bad, and like to dee ; 

A friend o mine cam to visit me. 
And Blackwood whisperd in my lord's ear 
That he was oure lang in chamber wi me. 

2 ' O what need I dress up my head. 

Nor what need I caim doun my hair, 
Whan my gude lord has forsaken me. 
And says he will na love me mair ! 



k/.. 



' But oh, an my young babe was born. 
And set upon some nourice knee. 

And I mysel war dead and gane ! 
For a maid again I '11 never be.* 

4 * Na mair o this, my dochter dear, 
And of your mourning let abee ; 



For a bill of divorce I '11 gar write for 
him, 
A mair better lord I '11 get for thee.* 

6 ' Na mair o this, my father dear, 
And of your folly let abee ; 
For I wad na gie ae look o my lord's 
face 
For aw the lords in the haill cuntree. 

6 * But I '11 cast aff my robes o red. 
And I '11 put on my robes o blue, 
And I will travel to some other land, 
To see gin my love will on me rue. 

^ 7 ' There shall na wash come on my face. 
There shall na kaim come on my hair ; 
There shall neither coal nor candle-licht 
Be seen intU my bouer na mair. 

8 ' O wae be to thee, Blackwood, 
And an ill death may ye dee ! 
For ye 've been the haill occasion 
Of parting my lord and me.' 



1- 



f^' 



Motherwell's MS, p. 507 ; from the recitation of old Mrs 
Brown, residing at Linsart, parish of Lochwinnoch, Septem- 
ber, 1826. 

^ 1 Waly, waly up yon bank ! 

And waly, waly up yon brae ! 
And waly, waly by yon river-side, 

Where me and my love were wont to gae 1 

2 My mither tauld me when I was young 
That young men's love was ill to trow ; 

VOL. IV. 13 



But to her I would give nae ear, 

And alas ! my ain wand dings me now. 

3 But gin I had wist or I had kisst 

That young man's love was sae ill to win, 
I would hae lockt my heart wi a key o gowd, 
And pinnd it wi a sillar pin. 

4 When lairds and lords cam to this toun. 

And gentlemen o a high degree, 
I took my auld son in my arms. 

And went to my chamber pleasantly. 



98 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



5 But when gentlemen come thro this toun, 

And gentlemen o a high degree, 
I must sit alane in the dark, 

And the babie on the nurse's knee. 

6 I had a nurse, and she was fair, 

She was a dearly nurse to me ; 

She took my gay lord frae my side, 

And used him in her company. 

7 Awa ! awa, thou false Blackwood ! 

Ay and an ill death may thou die ! 
Thou wast the first occasioner 
Of parting my gay lord and me. 

8 When I was sick, and very sick. 

Sick I was, and like to die, 
I drew me near to my stair-head. 

And I heard my own lord lichtly me. 

9 * Come doun, come doun, thou Earl of March, 

Come doun, come doun and dine with 
me; 
I '11 set thee on a chair of gowd, 

And treat thee kindly on my knee ! * 

Ny 10 * When cockle-shells grow sillar bells. 
And mussells grow on every tree. 
When frost and snaw turns fiery ba's, 

Then I '11 come doun and dine with thee.' 



11 When my father and mother got word 

That my gay lord had forsaken me. 
They sent three score of soldiers bold 
To bring me to my own countrie. 

12 When I in my coach was set, 

My tenants all was with me tane ; 
They set them doun upon their knees, 
And they begd me to come back again. 

13 Fare ye weel, Jamie Douglas ! 

And fare ye weel, my babies three ! 
I wish your father may be kind 
To these three faces that I do see. 

14 When we cam in by Edinbro toun, 

My father and mother they met me ; 
The cymbals sounded on every side. 
But alace ! the gave no comfort to me. 

15 * Hold your tongue, my daughter dear, 

And of your weeping let abee. 
And I '11 give him a bill of divorce. 
And I '11 get as good a lord to thee.' 

16 ' Hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And of your scoffing let me bee ; 
I would rather hae a kiss of my own lord's 
mouth 
As all the lords in the north countrie.' 



Motherwell's MS., p. S45. 

V 1 O WALY, waly up the bank ! 

And waly, waly down the brae ! 
And waly by yon river side, 

Where me and my lord was wont to gae ! 

2 An I had wit what I wit now, 

Before I came over the river Tay, 
I would hae staid at Lord Torchard's yetts. 
And I micht hae been his own lady gay. 

3 When I lay sick, and was very sick, 

A friend of mine came me to see ; 
When our Blacklywood told it in my lord's 
ears 
That he staid too long in chamber with me. 



4 Woe be to thee, thou Blacklywood ! 
I wish an ill death may thou die ; 
For thou 's been the first and occasion last 
That put strife between my good lord and 



5 When my father he heard of this. 

His heart was like for to break in three ; 
He sent fourscore of his soldiers brave 

For to take me home to mine own countree. 

6 In the morning when I arose, 

My bonnie palace for to see, 
I came unto my lord's room-door, 

But he would not speak one word to me. 

7 ' Come down the stair, my lord Jamie Douglas, 

Come down and speak one word with me ; 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



99 



./ 



I '11 set thee in a chair of gold, 

And the never a penny it will cost thee.' 

8 ' When cockle-shells grow silver hells, 

And grass grows over the highest tree, 
When frost and snaw turns fiery bombs. 
Then will I come down and drink wine with 
thee.' 

9 what need I care for Jamie Douglas 

More than he needs to care for me ? 
For the Lord of Murray 's my father dear, 
And the Duke of York's daughter my 
mother be. 



12 Quickly, quickly then rose he up. 

And quickly, quickly came he down ; 
When I was in my coaches set. 
He made his trumpets all to sound. 

13 As we came in by Edinburgh town, 

My loving father came to meet me, 

With trumpets sounding on every side ; 

But it was not comfort at all to me. 

14 ' hold your tongue, my daughter dear, 

And of your weeping pray let abee ; 
A bill of divorcement I '11 to him send. 
And a better lord I will chose for thee.' 



10 Thou thocht that I was just like thyself. 

And took every one that I did see ; 

But I can swear by the heavens above 

That I never knew a man but thee. 

11 But fare thee weel, my lord Jamie Douglas ! 

And fare you weel, my sma childer three ! 
God grant your father grace to be kind 
Till I see you all in my own countrie. 



15 * Hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And of your flattery pray let abee ; 
I '11 never lye in another man's arms. 

Since my Jamie Douglas has forsaken me.' 

16 It 's often said in a foreign land 

That the hawk she flies far from her nest ; 
It 's often said, and it 's very true. 

He 's far from me this day that I luve best. 



Motherwell's MS, p. 297 ; from the recitation of Mrs 

Traill of Paisley. 

'^ 1 O WAiiY, waly up the hank ! 

And waly, waly doun the brae ! 
And waly, waly by yon burn-side, 

Whare me and my luve was wont to gae ! 

2 If I had kent what I ken now, 

I wud neer hae crossed the waters o Tay ; 
For an I had staid at Argyle's yetts, 
I might hae been his lady gay. 

3 When I lay sick, and very sick. 

And very sick, just like to die, 
A gentleman, a friend of mine own, 

A gentleman came me to see ; 
But Blackliewoods sounded in my luve's ears 

He was too long in chamer with me. 

4 woe be to thee, Blackliewoods, 

But an an ill death may you die ! 



Thou 's been the first and occasion last 
That eer put ill twixt my luve and me. 

6 ' Come down the stairs now, Jamie Douglas, 
Come down the stairs and drink wine wi 
me ; 
I '11 set thee in a chair of gold, 

And it 's not one penny it will cost thee.' 

6 ' When cockle-shells grow silver bells. 

And gowd grows oer yon lily lea. 
When frost and snaw grows fiery bombs, 
I will come down and drink wine wi thee.' 

7 * What ails you at our youngest son, 

That sits upon the nurse's knee ? 
I 'm sure he 's never done any harm 
And it 's not to his ain nurse and me.' 

8 My loving father got word of this, 

But and an angry man was he ; 
He sent three score of his soldiers brave 
To take me to my own countrie. 



100 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



9 * O fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas ! 
And fare ye weel, my children three ! 
God grant your father may prove kind 
Till I see you in my own countrie.' 

10 When she was set into her coach 



11 ' Cheer up your heart, my loving daughter, 

Cheer up your heart, let your weeping bee ! 
A bill of divorce I will write to him. 

And a far better lord I '11 provide for thee.' 

12 It 's very true, and it 's often said. 

The hawk she 's flown and she 's left her 
nest ; 
But a' the warld may plainly see 
They 're far awa that I luve best 



Motherwell's MS., p. 500 ; from Mrs Notman. 

^ 1 ' O "WALT, waly up yon bank ! 

And waly, waly down yon brae ! 
And waly, waly by yon burn-bank, 
Where me and my lord wont to gae ! 

2 ' A gentleman of good account, 

A friend of mine, came to visit me, 
And Blackly whispered in my lord's ears 
He was too long in chamber with me. 

3 * When my father came to hear % 

I wot an angry man was he ; 
He sent five score of his soldiers bright 
To take me safe to my own countrie. 

4 ' Up in the mornin when I arose, 

My bonnie palace for to lea. 
And when I came to my lord's door. 
The neer a word he would speak to me. 

5 * Come down, come down, Jamie Douglas, 

And drink the Orange wine with me ; 
I '11 set thee in a chair of gold, 
That neer a penny it cost thee.' 

J 6 * When sea and sand turns foreign land, 
And mussels grow on every tree, 
When cockle-shells turn silver bells, 
I '11 drink the Orange wine with thee.' 

7 ' Wae be to you. Blackly,' she said, 
' Aye and an ill death may you die ! 
You are the first, and I hope the last, 
That eer made my lord lichtly me.' 



8 ' Fare ye weel then, Jamie Douglas ! 

I value you as little as you do me ; 
The Earl of Mar is my father dear, 
And I soon will see my own countrie. 

9 ' Ye thought that I was like yoursell, 

And loving each ane I did see ; 
But here I swear, by the day I die, 
I never loved a man but thee. 

10 ' Fare ye weel, my servants all ! 

And you, my bonny children three ! 
God grant your father grace to be kind 
Till I see you safe in my own countrie.' 

11 ' As I came into Edinburgh toune. 

With trumpets sounding my father met me ; 
But no mirth nor rausick sounds in my ear. 
Since the Earl of March has forsaken me.' 

12 ' O hold your tongue, my daughter dear, 

And of your weeping let abee ; 
I '11 send a bill of divorce to the Earl of March, 
And get a better lord for thee.' 

13 ' Hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And of your folly let abee ; 
No other lord shall lye in my arms, 

Since the Earl of March has forsaken me. 

14 ' An I had known what I know now, 

I 'd never crossed the water o Tay, 
But stayed still at AthoU's gates ; 

He would have made me his lady gay.' 

15 When she came to her father's lands, 

The tenants a' came her to see ; 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



101 



Never a word she could speak to them, 
But the buttons o£E her clothes did flee. 

16 * The linnet is a honnie bird, 

And af ten flees far f rae its nest ; 



So all the warld may plainly see 
They 're far awa that I luve best.' 



Motherwell's MS., p. 299 ; from the recitation of Rebecca 
Duiise, a native of GKlloway, 4 May, 1825. " A song of her 
mother's, an old woman." 

V 1 "WALT, waly up yon bank ! 

And waly, waly doun yon brae ! 
And waly, waly by yon burn-side, 
Where me and my luve used to gae ! 

^ 2 Oh Johnie, Johnie, but love is bonnie 
A little while, when it is new ; 
But when love grows aulder, it grows mair 
caulder. 
And it fades awa like the mornin dew. 



yy 



k/ 



3 I leaned my back against an aik, 

I thocht it was a trusty tree ; 
But first [it] bowed, and syne it brak, 
And sae did my fause luve to me. 

4 Once I lay sick, and very sick, 

And a friend of mine cam to visit me, 
> But the small bird whispered in my love's ears 
That he was ower lang in the room wi me. 

5 ' It 's come down stairs, my Jamie Douglas, 

Come down stairs, luve, and dine wi me ; 
I '11 set you on a chair of gold. 
And court ye kindly on my knee.' 

* When cockle-shells grow silver bells, 
And gold it grows on every tree, 

When frost and snaw turns fiery balls. 
Then, love, I '11 come down and dine wi 
thee.' 



V 7 If I had known what I know now, ^i 

That love it was sae ill to win, [ 

I should neer hae wet my cherry cheek 
For onie man or woman's son. 

8 When my father he cam to know 

That my first luve had sae slighted me. 
He sent four score of his soldiers bright 
To guard me home to my own countrie. 

9 Slowly, slowly rose I up. 

And slowly, slowly I came down, 
And when he saw me sit in my coach. 
He made his drums and trumpets sound. 

10 It 's fare ye weel, my pretty palace ! 

And fare ye weel, my children three ! 
And I hope your father will get mair grace, 
And love you better than he 's done to me. 

11 When we came near to bonnie Edinburgh 

toun. 
My father cam for to meet me ; 
He made his drums and trumpets sound, 
But they were no comfort at all to me. 

12 * It 's hold your tongue, my daughter dear. 

And of your weeping pray let be ; 
For a bill of divorcement I '11 send to him, 
And a better husband I '11 you supply.' 

13 ' O hold your tongue, my father dear. 

And of your folly pray now let be ; 
For there 's neer a lord shall enter my bower. 
Since my first love has so slighted me.' 



'Y 



102 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



Motherwell's MS., p. 302 ; from Jean Nicol. 

^10 WALT, waly up the bank ! 

And waly, waly doun the brae ! 
And waly by yon river-side, 

Where me and my love were wont to gae ! 

2. A gentleman, a friend of mine, 
Came to the toun me for to see. 



' Come doun the stair, Jamie Douglas, 

Come doun the stair and drink wine wi 
me ; 

For a chair of gold I wiU set thee in, 
And not one farthing it will cost thee.' 

' When cockle-shells grow siller bells, 

And mussels grow on ilka tree, 
When frost and snaw turns out fire-bombs, 

Then I '11 come doun and drink wine wi 
thee.' 



5 But when her father heard of this, 

but an angry man was he ! 

And he sent four score of his ain regiment 
To bring her hame to her ain countrie. 

6 when she was set in her coach and six, 

And the saut tear was in her ee, 
Saying, Fare you weel, my bonnie palace ! 
And fare ye weel, my children three ! 

7 when I came into Edinburgh toun, 

My loving father for to see. 
The trumpets were sounding on every side, 
But they were not music at all for me. 

8 ' hold your tongue, my daughter dear. 

And of your folly I pray let be ; 
For a bill of divorcement I '11 send him, 
And a better lord I '11 provide for thee.' 

9 ' O hold your tongue, my father dear, 

And of your folly I pray let be ; 
For if I had stayed in fair Orange Green, 

1 might have been his gay ladye.' 



Finlay's Scottish Ballads, 11, 1, a collation of three 
copies, one of which was M. 

1 When I fell sick, an very sick, 

An very sick, just like to die, 
A gentleman of good account 

He cam on purpose to visit me ; 
But his blackie whispered in my lord's ear 

He was owre lang in the room wi me. 

2 * Gae, little page, an tell your lord, 

Gin he will come and dine wi me 
I '11 set him on a chair of gold 

And serve him on my bended knee.' 

3 The little page gaed up the stair : 

* Lord Douglas, dine wi your ladie ; 
She '11 set ye on a chair of gold, 

And serve you on her bended knee.' 

vl 4 ' When cockle-shells turn silver bells, 
When wine drieps red frae ilka tree, 
When frost and snaw will warm us a', 
Then I '11 cum down an dine wi thee." 



5 But whan my father gat word o this, 

what an angry man was he ! 
He sent fourscore o his archers bauld 

To bring me safe to his countrie. 

6 When I rose up then in the morn, 

My goodly palace for to lea, 
I knocked at my lord's chamber-door. 
But neer a word wad he speak to me. 

7 But slowly, slowly, rose he up. 

And slowly, slowly, cam he down, 
And when he saw me set on my horse. 
He caused his drums and trumpets soun. 

8 * Now fare ye weel, my goodly palace ! 

And fare ye weel, my children three ! 
God grant your father grace to love you 
Far more than ever he loved me.' 

9 He thocht that I was like himsel. 

That had a woman in every hall ; 
But I could swear, by the heavens clear, 

1 never loved man but himsel. 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 



103 



10 As on to Embro town we cam, 

My guid father he welcomed me ; 
He caused his minstrels meet to sound, 
It was nae music at a' to me. 

11 ' Now haud your tongue, my daughter dear, 

Leave off your weeping, let it be ; 
For Jamie's divorcement I '11 send over ; 
Far better lord I '11 provide for thee.' 

12 ' haud your tongue, my father dear, 

And of such talking let me be ; 
For never a man shall come to my arms, 
Since my lord has sae slighted me.' 



13 an I had neer crossed the Tweed, 

Nor yet been owre the river Dee, 
I might hae staid at Lord Orgul's gate, 
Where I wad hae been a gay ladie. 

14 The ladies they will cum to town. 

And they will cum and visit me ; 
But I '11 set me down now in the dark, 
For ochanie ! who '11 comfort me .'' 

15 An wae betide ye, black Fastness, 

Ay, and an ill deid may ye die ! 
Ye was the first and foremost man 
Wha parted my true lord and me. 



M 

Herd's MSS, I, 54. 

1 Earl Douglas, than wham never knight 

Had valour moe ne courtesie, 
Yet he 's now blamet be a' the land 
For lightlying o his gay lady. 

2 ' Go, little page, and tell your lord, 

Gin he will cum and dine wi me, 
I '11 set him on a seat of gold, 

I '11 serve him on my bended knee.* 



3 The little page gaed up the stair : 

' Lord Douglas, dyne wi your lady ; 
She '11 set ye on a seat of gold. 

And serve ye on her bended knee.' 

V 4 ' When cockle-shells turn siller bells. 
When mussels grow on ilka tree. 
When frost and snow sail warm us a', 
Then I sail dyne wi my ladie.' 

5 * Now wae betide ye, black Fastness, 
Ay and an ill dead met ye die ! 
Ye was the first and the foremost man 
Wha parted my true lord and me.' 



N 



Motherwell's MiDstrelsy, Appendix, p. v, the last three 
stanzas. 



1 She looked out at her father's window. 
To take a view of the countrie ; 
Who did she see but Jamie Douglas, 
And along with him her children three ! 



2 There came a soldier to the gate, 

And he did knock right hastilie : 
* If Lady Douglas be within. 

Bid her come down and speak to me.* 

3 * O come away, my lady fair, 

Come away now alang with me. 
For I have hanged fause Blackwood, 
At the very place where he told the lie.* 



104 



204. JAMIE DOUGLAS 

o 

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvii, IX. 

* O COME down stairs, Jamie Douglas, 
O come down stairs and speak to me, 

And I '11 set thee in a fine chair of gowd, 
And I '11 kindly daut thee upon my knee. 



Variations o/Waly, Waly, etc. 

a. Put among ' Auld Sangs brushd up ' in Ram- 
say's " Contents" p. 329. Printed in 
eight-line stanzas. 

4. Burns had heard this stanza " in the west 
country " thus {Cromek's Beliques, 1817, p. 
245): 

O wherefore need I busk my head ? 

Or wherefore need I kame my hair ? 
Sin my fause luve has me forsook. 

And says he 'II never luve me mair. 

7*. my cry : me in the London edition of 
1733. 

b. 1^. up yon bank. l'^. down yon brea. 
1'. And waly by yon river's side. 
1*. Where ray love and I was wont to gae. 
2, 3 are 3, 2. 
2*. And sae did my fause love to me. 

Waly, waly, gin love be bonny, 
little while when. 3^ it 's : waxes, 
wears away like. 
Already given. 
O Martinmas. 
And take a life that wearies me. 

B. 3^. wlalking. 6^. bells turn silver shells. 

C. These variations in the second copy (I, 103) 

are Kinloch's: 
4«. on a. 9*. to thee. 12'. let abee. 
12*. for thee. 13^ father, I said. 
13». ae kiss. 14*. I '11. 
P. 5*. For gentlemen Motherwell queries, lairds 

and lords ? 
9^. Earl of Marquis ; March qtieried by Moth- 

eirwell. It is March in I. 
I. 5^ 6*. Orange, not orange, in the MS. 
6^. Motherwell queries far in for foreign. 



3^ 

32. 

3*. 

4. 

6^. 

6*. 

38. 



J. 2^. nonnie, nonny is written in pencil by Moth- 
erwell between 1 and 2 ; no doubt as a con- 
jectural emendation of Johnie, Johnie. 

L. 2, 3, 4, 15 are M 2-5, with slight changes. 
1^. " One copy here bears black-bird and 

another a fause bird." {Fiyilay.') 
13^. Lord Orgul. " This name is differently 

given by reciters." {Finlay.) 
15^. Fastness as a proper name, but evidently 
meant for faustness, falseness, as Mother- 
well has observed. 

M. Quham, quhen, quha are printed wham, when, 
wha ; zet, ze, zour, are printed yet, ye, 
your. 

N. Motherwell's ballad is " traditionary " to the 
extent that it is substantially made up from 
traditionary material. The text of the re- 
cited copies is not always strictly adhered to. 
The fifth stanza happens not to occur in the 
texts used, but may have come in in some 
other recitation obtained by Motherwell, or 
may simply have been adopted from Ramsay. 
The three last stanzas (N) are from some 
recitation not preserved in Motherwell's rel- 
ics. Neglecting unimportant divergencies, 
the constituent parts are as follows : 
1 = H V^, G 1*. 2, 3 = J 2, 3. 4 = F 2. 
(5 = Ramsay 4.) 6 = F 3. 7 = 1 14. 
8 - 10 = F 4 - 6. 11 = F 7i'2*, H 4». 
12 = H 3 {see E l*'^, L 1*). 13 = F 8. 
14 = I 51-8, O*. 15 = I 6. 16 = H 7. 
17 = J 7. 18 = F ir, I 31-H 19, 
20 = 1 4, 8. 21 = 1 9 {see L 9"). 



22 = J 9 

25 = I 10, 

13, 1 118". 

30,31 = 1 15, 16. 

148'*; 33, Dll.) 



23 = F 12. 24 = J 10. 

26 = I V-\ G 4*. 27 = G 

28 = F15,G14. 29 = F16. 

(32 resembles D lO^-', 



205. LOUDON HILL, OR, DRUMCLOG 



105 



APPENDIX 



^ 



ARTHUR'S SEAT SHALL BE MY BED, 
ETC., OR, LOVE IN DESPAIR 

A KEW song much in request, sung with its own 
proper tune. 

Laing, Broadsides Ballads, No. 61, not dated but consid- 
ered to have been printed towards the end of the seven- 
teenth or the beginning of the eighteenth century, and prob- 
ably at Edinburgh. 

1 Come lay me soft, and draw me near, 
And lay thy white hand over me, 
For I am starving in the cold, 
And thou art bound to cover me. 



I 'le rather travel into Spain, 
Where I 'le get love for love again. 

And I 'le cast off my robs of black, <V ^ 
And will put on the robs of blue, ^ 

And I will to some other land 
Till I see my love will on me rue. 



v"T» 



9 



n 



v 



OA 






2 O cover me in my distress, 

And help me in my miserie. 
For I do wake when I should sleep, 
All for the love of my dearie. 

3 My rents they are but very small 
For to maintain ray love withall. 
But with my labour and my pain 

I will maintain my love with them. 

4 O Arthur's Seat shall be my bed. 

And the sheets shall never be fil'd for me, 
St Anthony's well shall be my drink, 
Since my true-love 's forsaken me. 

1 (Should I be bound, that may go free? 
I Should I love them that loves not me? 



7 It 's not the cold that makes me cry, 
Nor is 't the weet that wearies me, 
Nor is 't the frost that freezes fell ; 
But I love a lad, and I dare not tell. 

8 O faith is gone and truth is past. 

And my true-love 's forsaken me; 
If all be true that I hear say, 
I 'le mourn until the day I die. 



'^ 9 Oh, if I had nere been born 

Than to have dy'd when I was young I 
Then I had never wet my cheeks 
For the love of any woman's son. 

V 10 Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, 
And set upon the nurse's knee. 
And I my self were dead and gone ! 
For a maid again I 'le never be. 

y 11 Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blow. 
And blow the green leafs off the tree 
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come! 
For of my life I am wearie. 

1^. darw. 



% ^'■■) 



J 



,M 



iJv^ 



205 
LOUDON HILL, OR, DRUMCLOG 

The Battle of Loudoun Hill,' Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 188, 1803; II, 206, 1833. 



The " gospel-lads," otherwise self-styled 
the true Presbyterian party, had in 1679, 
May 29 (observed both as the king's birth- 
day and the anniversary of the Restoration), 
begun their testimony against the iniquity of 
the times by publishing a Declaration, put- 
ting out loyal bonfires, and burning all acts 

VOL. IV. 14 



of Parliament obnoxious to Covenanters, in 
retaliation for the burning of the Covenant at 
London seventeen years before. They had 
intended to do this at Glasgow, but as Claver- 
house had established himself there, the dem- 
onstration was made at Rutherglen, a little 
place two miles off. On the 31st Claverhouse 



106 



205. LOUDON HILL, OR, DRUMCLOG 



laid hands on three of the rioters and an out- 
lawed minister. The Covenanters had ap- 
pointed a great meeting, an armed conven- 
ticle, for the next day, Sunday, June 1, at 
Loudon Hill, on the borders of the shires 
of Ayr and Lanark. Not so many came 
as were expected, for Claverhouse had been 
heard of, but there were at least two hun- 
dred and fifty armed men ; and these num- 
bers were subsequently increased.* It was 
resolved to rescue the prisoners taken the 
day before, if the Lord should enable them, 
and in prosecution of this object they moved 
on to Drumclog, a swampy farm two miles 
east of Loudon HilL The chief of command 
was Robert Hamilton, and with him were as- 
sociated John Balfour of Kinloch, called Burly, 
Hackston of Rathillet, and others. What 
ensued is told in a frank letter of Claver- 
house, written the night of the same Sunday. 
The prisoners were to be conveyed to Glas- 
gow. " I thought," says Claverhouse, " that 
we might make a little tour, to see if we could 
fall upon a conventicle ; which we did, little to 
our advantage. For, when we came in sight 
of them, we found them drawn up in battle, 
upon a most advantageous ground, to which 
there was no coming but through mosses and 
lakes. They were not preaching, and had 
got away all their women and children. They 
consisted of four battalions of foot, and all 
well armed with fusils and pitchforks, and 
three squadrons of horse. We sent, both, par- 
ties to skirmish, they of foot and we of dra- 
goons ; they run for it, and sent down a bat- 
talion of foot against them (the dragoons). 
We sent threescore of dragoons, who made 

* " Public worship was begun by Mr Douglas, when the 
accounts came to them that Claverhouse and bis men were 
coming upon them, and had Mr King and others their 
friends prisoners. Upon this, finding evil was determined 
against them, all who had arms drew out from the rest of 
the meeting, and resolved to go and meet the soldiers and 
prevent their dismissing the meeting, and, if possible, relieve 
Mr King and the other prisoners." Wodrow's History, 
1722, II, 46. 

t ( Postscript : " My lord, I am so wearied and so sleepy 
that I have written this very confusedly.") See Russell, in 
the Appendix to C. K. Sharpe's edition of Kirkton's Secret 
and True History of the Church of Scotland, p. 438 ff.; Na- 
pier's Memorials and Letters of John Graham of Claver- 
house, II, 219-223. There is a good account of the affair 
in Mowbray Morris's " Claverhouse," ch. iv. 



them run again shamefully. But in the end 
(they perceiving that we had the better of 
them in skirmish), they resolved a general 
engagement, and immediately advanced with 
their foot, the horse following. They came 
through the loch, and the greatest body of all 
made up against my troop. We kept our fire 
till they were within ten pace of us. They 
received our fire and advanced to shock. The 
first they gave us brought down the cornet, 
Mr Crafl^ord, and Captain Bleith. Besides 
that, with a pitchfork, they made such an 
opening in my sorrel horse's belly that his guts 
hung out half an ell, and yet he carried me ofE 
a mile ; which so discouraged our men that 
they sustained not the shock, but fell into dis- 
order. Their horse took the occasion of this, 
and pursued us so hotly that we got no time 
to rally. I saved the standards, but lost on 
the place about eight or ten men, besides 
wounded. But the dragoons lost many more. 
They are not come easily off on the other 
side, for I saw several of them fall before we 
came to the shock. I made the best retreat 
the confusion of our people would suffer." f 

The cornet killed was Robert Graham, the 
" nephew " of Claverhouse, of whom so much 
is made in " Old Mortality." There is no evi- 
dence beyond the name to show that he was a 
near kinsman of his captain. The Covenant- 
ers thought they had killed Claverhouse him- 
self, because of the name Graham being 
wrought into the cornet's shirt, and treated 
the body with much brutality. In ' Bothwell 
Bridge,' st. 12, Claverhouse is represented as 
refusing quarter to the Covenanters in revenge 
for ' his cornet's death.' if 

t Napier interprets the cornet to be Mr Crafford (Craw- 
ford), who, in the preceding February, was a corporal in the 
troop: Memorials, II, 191. But Creichton, in his Memoirs, 
mentions " the loss of Cornet Robert Graham " at Drum, 
clog. Russell speaks of a Graham killed at Drumclog, and, 
like Creichton, tells a story of the disfigurement of his fac* 
(which he attributes to the cornet's own dog). Lawrie oi 
Blackwood, Lord Jamie Douglas's lago, was indicted and 
tried, Nov. 24, 1682- Feb. 7. 1683, for (among other things) 
countenancing John Aulston, who "in the late rebellion " 
murdered Cornet Graham : Wodrow, II, 293, 295. Guild, 
in his Belliim Bothuellianum, cited by Scott, has "signifer, 
trajectus globulo, Grsemns." 

Napier will know only of a William Graham as comet to 
Claverhouse, " and certainly not killed at Drumclog." 
William Graham is referred to in a dispatch of Claver- 



205. LOUDON HILL, OR, DBUMCLOG 



107 



I 



1 You 'l marvel when I tell ye o 

Our noble Burly and his train, 
When last he marchd up through the land, 
Wi sax-and-twenty westland men. 

2 Than they I neer o braver heard, 

For they had a' baith wit and skill ; 
They proved right well, as I heard tell, 
As they cam up oer Loudoun Hill. 

3 Weel prosper a' the gospel-lads 

That are into the west countrie 
Ay wicked Claverse to demean, 
And ay an ill dead may he die ! 

4 For he 's drawn up i battle rank. 

An that baith soon an hastilie ; 
But they wha live till simmer come, 
Some bludie days for this will see. 

5 But up spak cruel Claverse then, 

Wi hastie wit an wicked skill, 
* Gae fire on you westlan men ; 
I think it is my sovreign's will.' 

6 But up bespake his cornet then, 

* It 's be wi nae consent o me ; 
I ken I '11 neer come back again, 
An mony mae as weel as me. 

7 ' There is not ane of a' yon men 

But wha is worthy other three ; 
There is na ane amang them a' 
That in his cause will stap to die. 

8 ' An as for Burly, him I knaw ; 

He 's a man of honour, birth, an fame ; 
Gie him a sword into his hand. 
He '11 fight thysel an other ten.' 

house's, March (?) 1679, as commanding a small garrison: 
Napier II, 201 . A Cornet Graham in Claverhouse's troop 
captured a rebel in March, 1682: R. Law's Memorials, ed. 
Sharpe, p. 222. A William Graham was " cornet fo Claver- 
house," January 3, 1684 : Wodrow, II, 338. (See " Clavers, 
The Despot's Champion, by a Southern," London, 1889, 



9 But up spake wicked Claverse then — 

I wat his heart it raise fu hie — 

And he has cry'd, that a' might hear, 

' Man, ye hae sair deceived me. 

10 ' I never kend the like afore, 

Na, never since I came frae harae. 
That you sae cowardly here suld prove, 
An yet come of a noble Graeme.' 

11 But up bespake his cornet then, 

' Since that it is your honour's will, 
Mysel shall be the foremost man 
That shall gie fire on Loudoun Hill. 

12 * At your command I '11 lead them on, 

But yet wi nae consent o me ; 
For weel I ken I '11 neer return. 
And mony mae as weel as me.* 

13 Then up he drew in battle rank — 

I wat he had a bonny train — 

But the first time that bullets flew 

Ay he lost twenty o his men. 

14 Then back he came the way he gaed, 

I wat right soon an suddenly ; 
He gave command amang his men, 

And sent them back, and bade them flee. 

15 Then up came Burly, bauld an stout, 

Wi 's little train o westland men, 
Wha mair than either aince or twice 
In Edinburgh confind had been. 

16 They hae been up to London sent. 

An yet they 're a' come safely down ; 
Sax troop o horsemen they hae beat. 
And chased them into Glasgow town. 

p. 48 f., a careful and impartial book, to which I owe a 
couple of points that I had not myself noticed.) 

C. K. Sharpe calls Robert Graham Claverhouse's cousin, 
Napier, I, 271, but probably would not wish the title to be 
taken strictly. 



108 



206. BOTHWELL BBIDGE 



206 
BOTHWELL BRIDGE 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 209, 1803 ; II, 226, 1838. From recitation. 



The report of the success of the Covenant- 
ers at Drumelog brought four or five thousand 
malcontents into the rising, many of whom, 
however, were not radicals of the Hamilton 
type, but moderate Presbyterians. After not 
a little moving up and down, they established 
their camp on the nineteenth of June at Ham- 
ilton, on the south side of the Clyde, near the 
point where the river is crossed by Bothwell 
Bridge. They were deficient in arms and am- 
munition and in oflBcers of military expe- 
rience. " But," as a historian of their own 
party says, " the greatest loss was their want 
of order and harmony among themselves; 
neither had they any person in whom they 
heartily centred, nor could they agree upon 
the grounds of their appearance." Both be- 
fore and after their final encampment at Ham- 
ilton, they were principally occupied with de- 
bating what testimony they should make 
against Popery, Prelacy, Erastianism, and the 
Indulgence, and whether their declaration 
should contain an acknowledgment of the 
king's authority. Dissension ran high, " and 
enemies had it to observe and remark that 
ministers preached and prayed against one 
another." 

The king named the Duke of Monmouth 
to command his army in Scotland. Both 
the instructions which were given him and 
the duke's own temper were favorable to an 
accommodation. The royal forces were at 
Bothwell Muir on the twenty-second of June, 
and their advanced guards within a quarter 
of a mile of the bridge. The duke marched 
his army to an eminence opposite the main 
body of the enemy, who lay on the moor (st. 
10). The bridge was held by Hackston of 
Rathillet and other resolute men. It was 



very defensible, being only twelve feet wide 
and rising from each end to the middle, where 
there was a gate, and it was also obstructed 
with stones. Early in the morning a deputa- 
tion was sent by the rebels to the duke to lay 
before him their demands. He heard them 
patiently, and expressed his willingness to do 
all that he could for them with the king, but 
would engage himself to nothing until they 
laid down their arms. He gave them an hour 
to make up their mind. The officers of the 
insurgents were unable to come to an agree- 
ment. Hamilton, who assumed the general 
command, was against any pacific arrange- 
ment, and no answer was returned. In the 
interim four field-pieces had been planted 
against the bridge. The defenders main- 
tained themselves under the fire of these and 
of the musketeers and dragoons until their 
own powder was exhausted, and then unwil- 
lingly withdrew to the main body, by Hamil- 
ton's order. The bridge was cleared of ob- 
structions, and the royal army crossed and 
advanced in order of battle against the rebels 
on the moor. The first fire made the Cove- 
nanters' horse wheel about, and their retreat 
threw the nearest foot into disorder ; in con- 
sequence of which the whole army fell into 
confusion. Twelve hundred surrendered with- 
out resistance, the rest fled, and several hun- 
dred were killed in the pursuit.* 

1-9. William Gordon of Earlston, a hot 
Covenanter, while on his way to Hamilton 
on the twenty-second to join the insurgents, 
fell in with some dragoons who were pursuing 
his already routed copartisans, and, resisting 
their attempt to make him prisoner, was 

* "Wodrow's History, 1722,11, 54-67; Creichton's Me- 
moirs ; Russell, in Sharpe's ed. of Kirkton, p. 447 ff. 



206. BOTHWELL BRIDGE 



109 



killed. His son Alexander, a man of more 
temperate views, was at Bothwell Bridge,* 
and escaped. Although Earlston in st. 4 is 
represented as bidding farewell to his father, 
the grotesque narrative with which the ballad 
begins can be understood only of the father ; 
sts. 7, 8 make this certain. 

9. It seems to be meant, as grammar would 
require, that it is the * Lennox lad,' and a 
Covenanter, that sets up ' the flag of red set 
about with blue.' In "Old Mortality," Sir 
Walter Scott makes the Covenanters plant 
" the scarlet and blue colors of the Scottish 
covenant" on the keep of Tillietudlem. 
Whether he had other authority than this 
ballad for the scarlet, I have not been able 
to ascertain. All the flags of the covenant 
may not have been alike, but all would prob- 
ably have a ground of blue, which is known 
to have been the Covenanters' color. One flag, 
which belonged to a Covenanter who figured 
at Druuiclog and Bothwell Bridge, has fortu- 
nately been preserved. It is of blue silk, 
with three inscriptions, one of which is, " No 
Quarters to y® Active Enimies of y® Covenant," 
first painted in some light color, afterwards 
repainted in a dull red. (Napier, I, xliv). 

The last half of the stanza must be spoken 
by Monmouth, and the tone of it is more chiv- 
alrous than the circumstances call for. 



12-15. For Claverhouse's cornet, see the 
preceding ballad. Captain John Graham, for 
that was all he then was, was not conspicuous 
at Bothwell Bridge. He commanded the 
horse on the right, and Captain Stuart the 
dragoons on the left, when the advance was 
made on the Covenanters. He was as capable 
of insubordination as Robert Hamilton was of 
Erastianism, and it is nearly as unnecessary, at 
this day, to vindicate him from the charge of 
cruelty as from that of procuring Monmouth's 
execution six years in advance of the fates.f 

' Earlistoun,' Chambers, Twelve Romantic 
Scottish Ballads, p. 26, is this piece with the 
battle omitted, or stanzas 1-6, 7^'^, S^-*, 16. 

Scott observes : " There is said to be an- 
other song upon this battle, once very popu- 
lar, but I have not been able to recover it." 

There is a stall-ballad of Bothwell Brigg, 
not traditional, a very good ballad of its sort, 
with a touching story and a kindly moral, 
which may or may not be later than Sir 
Walter Scott's day. It is of John Carr and 
his wife Janet and a non-covenanting lad}^, who 
carries off John, badly wounded, from the field 
(where he had fought better than most of his 
party), and nurses him in herjord's castle till 
he is well enough to be visited by his wife. 

Translated by Talvj, Charakteristik, p. 581. 



1 ' BILLIE, billie, bonny billie, 

Will ye go to the wood wi me ? 
We '11 ca our horse hame masterless, 
An gar them trow slain men are we.' 

2 * no, O no ! ' says Earlstoun, 

' For that 's the thing that mauna be ; 
For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill, 
"Where I maun either gae or die.' 

3 So Earlstoun rose in the morning, 

An mounted by the break o day, 
An he has joind our Scottish lads, 
As they were marching out the way. 

4 * Now, farewell, father ! and farewell, mother ! 

An fare ye weel, my sisters three ! 

* Russell, as above, p, 464 ; Wodrow, II, 86. 



An fare ye well, my Earlstoun ! 
For thee again I '11 never see.' 

6 So they 're awa to Bothwell Hill, 
An waly, they rode bonnily ! 
When the Duke o Monmouth saw them comin, 
He went to view their company. 

6 * Ye 're welcome, lads,' then Monmouth said, 

' Ye 're welcome, brave Scots lads, to me ; 
And sae are you, brave Earlstoun, 
The foremost o your company. 

7 * But yield your weapons ane an a', 

O yield your weapons, lads, to me ; 

For, gin ye '11 yield your weapons up, 

Ye'se a' gae hame to your country.' 

t But see " Clavers, the Despot's Champion," p. 72 fl. 



110 



207. LORD DELAMEBB 



8 Out then spak a Lennox lad, 

And waly, but he spoke bonnily ! 

* I winna yield my weapons up, 

To you nor nae man that I see.' 

9 Then he set up the flag o red, 

A' set about wi bonny blue : 

* Since ye '11 no cease, and be at peace, 

See that ye stand by ither true.' 

10 They stelld their cannons on the height. 

And showrd their shot down in the how, 
An beat our Scots lads even down ; 
Thick they lay slain on every know. 

11 As eer you saw the rain down fa. 

Or yet the arrow frae the bow, 
Sae our Scottish lads fell even down, 
An they lay slain on every know. 

12 ' O hold your hand,' then Monmouth cry'd, 

' Gie quarters to yon men for me ; ' 



But wicked Claverhouse swore an oath 
His cornet's death revengd sud be. 

13 ' O hold your hand,' then Monmouth cry'd, 

* If ony thing you '11 do for me ; 
Hold up your hand, you cursed Graeme, 
Else a rebel to our king ye '11 be.' 

14 Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about — 

I wot an angry man was he — 
And he has lifted up his hat, 

And cry'd, God bless his Majesty ! 

15 Than he 's awa to London town, 

Ay een as fast as he can dree ; 
Fause witnesses he has wi him taen. 

An taen Monmouth's head frae his body. 

16 Alang the brae beyond the brig, 

Mony brave man lies cauld and still ; 

But lang we '11 mind, and sair we '11 rue. 

The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill. 



207 

LORD DELAMERE 



A. ' The Long-armed Duke,' first printed, about 1843, 
in a periodical called the Story Teller; afterwards 
in Notes and Queries, First Series, V, 243, 1852. 

B. ' Devonshire's Noble Duel with Lord Danby, in the 
year 1687,' Llewellynn Jewitt's Ballads and Songs 
of Derbyshire, p. 55, 1867. 

C. Llewellynn Jewitt's Ballads and Songs of Derby- 
shire, p. 57, two stanzas. 



D. 'Lord Delaware,' Thomas Lyle's Ancient Ballads 
and Songs, chiefly from tradition, manuscripts, and 
scarce works, etc., London, 1827, p. 125. ' Lord Del- 
amare,' Motherwell's MS., p. 539. Dixon, Ancient 
Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of Eng- 
land, p. 80, Percy Society, vol. xvii, 1846; the same, 
ed. Robert Bell, 1857, p. 66. 



? 



Of D the editor says : " An imperfect copy 
. . . was noted down by us from the singing 
of a gentleman in this city [Glasgow], which 
has necessarily been remodelled and smoothed 
down to the present measure, without any 
other liberties, however, having been taken 
with the original narrative, which is here 
carefully preserved as it was committed to us." 
The air, says Lyle, was "beautiful, and pe- 
culiar to the ballad." 



E. Leigh, Ballads and Legends of Cheshire, 
p. 203, repeats A. 

Mr E. Peacock had an imperfect manu- 
script copy with the title 'Lord Delamere,' 
beginning 

I wonder very much that our sovereign king 
So many large taxes upon this land should bring. 
Notes and Queries, First Series, II, 104, 1851. 

Dr Rimbault remembered hearing a version 



207. LORD DELAMEBE 



111 



sung at a village in Staffordshire, about 
1842, in which Hereford was substituted for 
Devonshire : Notes and Queries, First Series, 
V, 348, 1852. 

Lord Delamere, upon occasion of the im- 
position of some new taxes, begs a boon of the 
king, in the Parliament House ; it is that he 
may have all the poor men in the land down 
to Cheshire and hang them, since it would be 
better for them to be hanged than to be 
starved. A French (Dutch) lord says that 
Delamere ought to be stabbed for publicly 
affronting the king. The Duke of Devonshire 
offers himself to fight for Delamere, and a 
stage is set up for a duel to the utterance. 
Devonshire's sword bends at the first thrust and 
then breaks. An English lord who is stand- 
ing by (Willoughby, B) gives him another, and 
advises him to play low, for there is treach- 
ery. Devonshire drops on his knee and gives 
his antagonist his death-wound. The king 
orders the dead man to be taken away, but 
Devonshire insists on first examining the body. 
He finds that the French lord had been wear- 
ing armor, and the king's armor, while he 
himself was fighting bare. He reproaches 
the king with the purpose of taking his life, 
and tells him that he shall not have his armor 
back until he wins it. 

According to the title of B, the duel was 
between Devonshire and Lord Danby, and in 
1687. The other party is, however, called a 
Dutch lord in the ballad. The king is James. 
Delamere is said to be under age (he was 
thirty.five in 1687). 

In D, Delamere is changed to Delaware, of 
Lincolnshire ; the Duke of Devonshire is 
called a Welsh lord, and fights a Dutch lord 
in defence of young Delaware. When Devon- 
shire's sword breaks, he springs from the 
stage, borrows another from a soldier in the 
ring, and leaps back to the stage. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that the duel 
is on a par for historical verity with that in 
' Johnie Scot ' (No 99). If there was to be a 
duel, Devonshire (Earl, he was not created 
Duke till 1694, the last year of Delamere's 



life) was well chosen for the nonce. He had 
fought with Lord Mohun, in 1676, and was 
credited with challenging Count Konigsmark, 
in 1682. What is true in the ballad is that 
Delamere was a strenuous and uncompromis- 
ing advocate of constitutional government, 
and that he and Devonshire were political and 
personal friends. Both were particularly ac- 
tive in bringing in the Prince of Orange ; and 
so was Lord Danby, with whom, according to 
the title of B, Devonshire was fighting the 
duel the year before the revolution. 

It has been suggested,* and it is barely 
conceivable, that the ballad may have grown 
out of a perverted report of the affair of 
the Earl of Devonshire with Colonel Cole- 
pepper. 

" On Sunday the 24th of April, 1687, the 
said earl, meeting on Colonel Culpepper in 
the drawing-room in Whitehall (who had 
formerly affronted the said earl in the king's 
palace, for which he had not received any sat- 
isfaction), he spake to the said colonel to go 
with him into the next room, who went with 
him accordingly ; and when they were there, 
the said earl required of him to go down stairs, 
that he might have satisfaction for the affront 
done him, as aforesaid ; which the colonel 
refusing to do, the said earl struck him with 
his stick, as is supposed."! For this, Devon- 
shire was summoned to the King's Bench and 
required to give sureties to the amount of 
.£30,000 that he would appear to stand trial. 
Delamere was surety for £5,000. Devon- 
shire was in the end fined .£30,000, and Dela- 
mere made a strong plea, apparently in the 
House of Lords, against the legality of the 
proceedings of the court. 

There is the slightest possible similitude 
here to the facts of the ballad. It is merely 
that one party stands up for the other ; but 
Delamere appears as the champion of Devon- 
shire, not Devonshire of Delamere. If Dev- 
onshire had testified for Delamere when the 
latter was tried for high treason in 1686, 
there would be something to go upon. A 
more plausible explanation is desirable. 



• In Notes and Qaeries, First Series, V, 249. 

t The Works of the late L. Delamer, 1694, The Case of 



William, Earl of Devonshire, p. 563 ; which is the plea r6« 
ferred to farther on. 



112 



207. LORD DELAMERB 



Taken down from recitation in Derbyshire, and first 
printed, about 1843, in a periodical called The Story Teller; 
afterwards in Notes and Queries, First Series, V, 243, by 
C. W. G. 

1 Good people, give attention, a story you shaU 

hear, 
It is of the king and my lord Delamere ; 
The quarrel it arose in the Parliament House, 
Concerning some taxations going to be put in 
force. 
^ Ri toora loora la. 

2 Says my lord Delamere to his Majesty soon, 

* If it please you, my liege, of you 1 '11 soon beg 

a boon.' 

* Then what is your boon ? let me it under- 

stand : ' 

* It 's to have all the poor men you have in your 

land. 

3 ' And I '11 take them to Cheshire, and there I 

will sow 
Both herapseed and flaxseed, and [hang] them 

all in a row. 
Why, they 'd better be hanged, and stopped 

soon their breath. 
If it please you, my liege, than to starve them 

to death.' 

4 Then up starts a French lord, as we do 

hear, 
Saying, ' Thou art a proud Jack,' to my lord 

Delamere ; 
* Thou oughtest to be stabbed ' — then he 

turnd him about — 
*For affronting the king in the Parliament 

House.' 



6 The very first push, as we do understand, 
The duke's sword he bended it back into his 

hand. 
He waited a while, but nothing he spoke, 
Till on the king's armour his rapier he broke. 

7 An English lord, who by that stage did stand, 
Threw Devonshire another, and he got it in his 

hand : 
'Play low for your life, brave Devonshire,' 

said he, 
' Play low for your life, or a dead man you 

will be.' 

8 Devonshire dropped on his knee, and gave him 

his death-wound ; 

then that French lord fell dead upon the 

ground. 
The king called his guards, and he unto them 
did say, 

* Bring Devonshire down, and take the dead 

man away.' 

9 * No, if it please you, my liege, no ! I 've slain 

him like a man ; 

1 'm resolved to see what clothing he 's got on. 
Oh, fie upon your treachery, your treachery ! ' 

said he, 

* Oh, king, 't was your intention to have took 

my life away. 

10 * For he fought in your armour, whilst I have 

fought jn bare ; 
The same thou shalt win, king, before thou 

does it wear.' 
Then they all turned back to the Parliament 

House, 
And the nobles made obesiance with their 

hands to their mouths. 



6 Then up starts his grace, the Duke of Devon- 
shire, 
Saying, I '11 fight in defence of my lord 

Delamere. 
Then a stage was erected, to battle they went, , 
To kill or to be killed was our noble duke's 
intent. 



11 * God bless all the nobles we have in our land. 
And send the Church of England may flourish 

still and stand ; 
For I 've injured no king, no kingdom, nor no 

crown. 
But I wish that every honest man might enjoy 

his own.' 



207. LORD DELAMERB 



113 



B 



Llewellynn Jewitt, Ballads and Songs of Derbyshire, 1867, 
p. 55, from a broad-sheet. 

1 Good people give attention to a story you shall 

hear: 
Between the king and my lord Delamere, 
A quarrel arose in the Parliament House, 
Concerning the taxes to be put in force. 
^ With my fal de ral de ra. 

2 I wonder, I wonder that James, our good king, 
So many hard taxes upon the poor should bring ; 
So many hard taxes, as I have heard them say 
Makes many a good farmer to break and run 

away. 

3 Such a rout has been in the parliament, as I hear, 
Betwixt a Dutch lord and my lord Delamere. 
He said to the king, as he sat on the throne, 

' If it please you, my liege, to grant me a boon.' 

4 ' O what is thy boon ? Come, let me understand.' 
' 'T is to give me all the poor you have in the 

land; 
I '11 take them down to Cheshire, and there I 

will sow 
Both hemp-seed and flax-seed, and hang them 

in a row. 

5 *It 's better, my liege, they should die a 

shorter death 
Than for your Majesty to starve them on earth.' 
With that up starts a Dutch lord, as we hear. 
And he says, ' Thou proud Jack,' to my lord 

Delamere, 

6 'Thou ought to be stabbed,' and he turned 

him about, 

'For affronting the king in the Parliament 
House.' 

Then up got a brave duke, the Duke of Devon- 
shire, 

Who said, I will fight for my lord Delamere. 

7 * He is under age, as I '11 make it appear, 

So I '11 stand in defence of my lord Delamere.' 

VOL. IV. 15 



A stage then was built, and to battle they went, 
To kill or be killed it was their intent. 

8 The very first blow, as we understand, 
Devonshire's rapier went back to his hand ; 
Then he mused awhile, but not a word spoke. 
When against the king's armour his rapier he 

broke. 

9 O then he stept backward, and backward stept 

he. 
And then stept forward my lord Willoughby ; 
He gave him a rapier, and thus he did say ; ■ 
Play low, Devonshire, there 's treachery, I 

see. 

10 He knelt on his knee, and he gave him the 

wound, 
With that the Dutch lord fell dead on the 

ground : 
The king caUd his soldiers, and thus he did 

say: 
Call Devonshire down, take the dead man 

away. 

11 He answered. My liege, I 've killed him like a 

man. 
And it is my intent to see what clothing he 's 
got on. 

treachery ! O treachery ! as I well may say. 
It was your intent, O king, to take my life 

away. 

12 ' He fought in your armour, while I fought him 

bare. 
And thou, king, shalt win it before thou dost it 
wear ; 

1 neither do curse king, parliament, or throne, 
But I wish every honest man may enjoy his 

own. 

13 * The rich men do flourish with silver and gold, 
^yiule poor men are starving with hunger and 

cold; 
And if they hold on as they have begun. 
They '11 make little England pay dear for a 

king.' 



114 



207. LORD DELAMERE 



Llewellynn Jewitt's Ballads and Songs of Derbyshire, p. 
57. "Another version, which I have in MS., has, besides 
many minor variations, these verses." 

1 O THE Duchess of Devonshire was standing 

hard by ; 
Upon her dear husband she cast her lovely eye : 
* Oh, fie upon treachery ! there 's been treachery 

I say, 
It was your full intent to have taen my duke's 

life away.' 



2 Then away to the parliament these votes all 
went again. 
And there they acted like just and honest 

men. 
I neither curse my king, nor kingdom, crown 

or throne. 
But I wish every honest man to enjoy but 
what is lus own. 



T. Lyle's Ancient Ballads and Songs, p. 135, 1827, as 
"noted down from the singing of a gentleman," and then 
"remodelled and smoothed down" by the editor. 

1 In the Parliament House a great rout has 

been there, 
Betwixt our good king and the lord Delaware : 
Says Lord Delaware to his Majesty full soon, 

* Will it please you, my liege, to grant me a 

boon ? ' 

2 ' What 's your boon ? * says the king, ' now let 

me understand.' 

* It 's, give me all the poor men we Ve starving 

in this land. 
And without delay I '11 hie me to Lincolnshire, 
To sow hemp-seed and flax-seed, and hang 

them all there. 

3 * For with hempen cord it 's better to stop each 

poor man's breath 
Than with famine you should see your subjects 

starve to death.' 
Up starts a Dutch lord, who to Delaware did 

say, 
Thou deservest to be stabbd! then he turnd 
himself away. 

4 'Thou deservest to be stabbd, and the dogs 

have thine ears, 
For insulting our king, in this parliament of 

peers.' 
Up sprang a Welsh lord, the brave Duke of 

Devonshire : 

* In young Delaware's defence, I '11 fight this 

Dutch lord, my sire. 



5 * For he is in the right, and I 'U make it so 

appear ; 
Him I dare to single combat, for insulting 

Delaware.' 
A stage was soon erected, and to combat they 

went; 
For to kill or to be killd, it was either's full 

intent. 

6 But the very first flourish, when the heralds 

gave command. 
The sword of brave Devonshire bent backward 

on his hand. 
In suspense he paused a while, scannd his foe 

before he strake, 
Then against the king's armour his bent sword 

he brake. 

7 Then he sprang from the stage to a soldier in 

the ring. 
Saying, Lend your sword, that to an end this 

tragedy we bring. 
Though he 's fighting me in armour, while I 

am fighting bare, 
Even more than this I 'd venture for young 

Lord Delaware. 

8 Leaping back on the stage, sword to buckler 

now resounds, 

TUl he left the Dutch lord a bleeding in his 
wounds. 

This seeing, cries the king to his guards with- 
out delay. 

Call Devonshire down ! take the dead man 
away ! 



208. LORD DERWENTWATBR 



115 



9 ' No.' says brave Devonshire, * I 've fought 10 ' God bless the Church of England ! may it 

him as a man ; prosper on each hand, 

Since he 's dead, I will keep the trophies I And also every poor man now starving in this 

have won. land. 

For he fought me in your armour, while I And while I pray success may crown our king 

fought him bare, upon his throne, 

And the same you must win back, my liege, I '11 wish that every poor man may long enjoy 

if ever you them wear. his own.* 



A. 4^ Dutch for French, according to some re- 

citers. 
%\ Oh. 

B. 4\ 91. Oh. 

C. 1^ Oh. 

D. Printed hy Lyle in stanzas of eight short lines. 

The copy in MotherwelVs MS. is not in Moth- 
erwell's handwriting. It may have been 
vrritten down from recollection of Lyle, or 
may have been arbitrarily altered. 



The variations are as follows: 
1^. Delamare, aTid always. 2^. pray let. 
2\ now /or we 've. 2*, with flax seed. 
3^. the poor men's. 4*. or for our. 
5^ it wanting. 6^. in his. 6'. the stroke. 
6*. broke. 7\ The sprang. 
8^ he laid. S". to the. 
9*. must won : my liege wanting. 
10^ bliss. 10«. the king. 



208 
LORD DERWENTWATER 

A. * Lord Dunwaters,' Motherwell's MS., p. 331 ;' Lord B. * Lord Derwentwater,' Notes and Queries, Fourth 
Derwentwater,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 349. Series, XI, 499. 

B. 'Lord Derwentwater,* Notes and Queries, First P. 'Lord Arnwaters,' Buchan's MSS, II, 478. 
Series, XII, 492. 

Q. ' Lord Dunwaters,' Motherwell's MS., p. 126. 

C. Bell's Rhymes of Northern Bards, 1812, p. 225, 

three stanzas. H. ' Lord Derwentwater's Death,' Shropshire Folk- 

Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, p. 537. 

D. ♦ Lord Derntwater,' Kinloch MSS, I, 32S. 

Z. The Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xcv, 1825, Part 
First, p. 489. 



Three stanzas of this ballad were printed it been given as taken down, and not restored 

in 1812 (0). I followed in 1825, a full copy, " to something like poetical propriety." * The 

which would have been a very good one had editor of the " old song " observes that it was 

* Such poetical propriety as 'The second, more alarm- Butreally the text was not very much altered. Some verses, 

ing still/ 32 ; ' The words that passd, alas ! presaged' IS^, here dropped, were added " to give a finish." 



116 



208. LORD DERWBNTWATER 



.•: 



one of the most popular in the north of Eng- 
land for a long period after the event which 
it records, and a glance at what is here brought 
together will show that the ballad was at least 
equally popular in Scotland. I is repeated in 
Kichardson's Borderer's Table-Book, VI, 291, 
and in Harland and Wilkinson's Ballads and 
Songs of Lancashire, 1882, p. 265. Mr J. H. 
Dixon, in Notes and Queries, 4th Series, XI, 
389, says that the ballad " originally appeared 
in the Town and Country Magazine." 

' Lord Derwentwater's Goodnight,' Hogg's 
Jacobite Relics, II, 30, 268, was both com- 
municated and composed by Robert Surtees. 
' Der went water,' Cromek's Remains of Niths- 
dale and Galloway Song, 1810, p. 127, is from 
the pen of Allan Cunningham. It is repeated 
in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, 1821, II, 28, and 
in Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, 1825, 
III, 192, etc. ; also in Kinloch MSS, V, 413, 
with two lines to fill out an eighth stanza. 
(Translated by Lod ve - Veimars, p. 375.) 
* Young Ratcliffe,' Sheldon's Minstrelsy of 
the English Border, p. 400, is another ballad 
of the same class. 

James Ratcliffe, Earl of Derwentwater, 
being suspected or known to be engaged in 
concerting a rising in the north of England in 
behalf of the Pretender, a warrant was issued 
by the Secretary of State for his apprehension, 
towards the end of September, 1715. Here- 
upon he took arms, and he was one of the 
fifteen hundred English and Scots who were 
forced to an inglorious surrender at Preston, 
November 14. The more distinguished pris- 
oners were conveyed to London, where they 
had a boisterous reception from the mob. 
Derwentwater was committed to the Tower, 
December 9 ; was impeached of high treason, 
and pleaded guilty, in January; was sen- 
tenced to death, February 9, at Westminster 
Hall, and was executed February 24 (1716). 
In a paper which he read from the scaffold he 
stated that he had regarded his plea of guilty 
as a formality consequent upon his " having 
submitted to mercy," and declared that he 
had never had "any other but King James the 
Third for his rightful and lawful sovereign." 



Derwentwater had not attained the age of 
twenty-seven at the time of his death. We 
may believe that the character given of him 
by the renegade Patten was not overcharged : 
" The sweetness of his temper and disposition, 
in which he had few equals, had so secured 
him the affection of all his tenants, neighbors, 
and dependants that multitudes would have 
lived and died with him. The truth is, he 
was a man formed by nature to be generally 
beloved, for he was of so universal a benefi- 
cence that he seemed to live for others. As 
he lived among his own people, there he spent 
his estate, and continually did offices of kind- 
ness and good neighborhood to everybody, as 
opportunity offered. He kept a house of 
generous hospitality and noble entertainment, 
which few in that country do, and none come 
up to. He was very charitable to poor and 
distressed families on all occasions, whether 
known to him or not, and whether Papist or 
Protestant. His fate will be sensibly felt by 
a great many who had no kindness for the 
cause he died in." 

The king's letter, which, in the ballad, 
summons Derwentwater to London (to an- 
swer for his head, D 3), suggests the Secretary 
of State's warrant of arrest, which his lord- 
ship, unhappily for himself, evaded. But very 
probably the ballad-maker supposed Derwent- 
water to have gone home after his less than 
six weeks in arms. As he is setting forth to 
obey the mandate, his wife calls to him from 
child-bed to make his will. This business 
does not delay him long : one third of his es- 
tate is to be his wife's, and the rest to go to 
his children. (He had a son not two years 
old at the date of his execution, and a daughter 
who must have been born, at the earliest, not 
much before the rising. His very large es- 
tates first passed to the crown, and were af- 
terwards bestowed on Greenwich hospital.) 
Bad omens attend his departure. As he 
mounts his horse, his ring drops from his 
finger, or breaks, and his nose begins to bleed, 
B 5, D 6, E 8, F 9, H 7, I 10 ; presently his 
horse stumbles, A 8, B 9, F 10, I 11 ; it 
begins to rain, H 8. When he comes to Lon- 
don, to Westminster Hall, B 6, P 11, to 



208. LORD DERWENTWATER 



117 



Whitehall, D 7, rides up Westminster Street, 
in sight of the White Hall, I 12, the lords 
and knights, the lords and ladies, a mob, H 
9, call him " traitor." How can that be, he 
answers, with surprise or indignation, except 
for keeping five hundred men (five thousand, 
seven thousand, eight score), to fight for King 
Jamie? A 10, D 8, B 11, P 12, H 10, I 13. 
A man with an ax claims his life, which he 
ungrudgingly resigns, B 8, D 9, 10, B 12, 13, 
P 13, 14, H 11, 12, I 14, 15, directing that a 
good sum of money which he has in his pockets 
shall be given to the poor, A 12, D 11, E 14, 
P 15, 1 17. 

In A 2, D 12, Derwent water seems to be 
taken for a Scot. 

Ellis, Brand'3 Antiquities, 1813, II, 261, 
note, remarks that he had heard in Northum- 
berland that when the Earl of Derwentwater 
was beheaded, the stream (the Divelswater) 
that runs past his seat at Dilston Hall flowed 
with blood.* 



The Northern Lights (perhaps the red-col- 
ored ones) were peculiarly vivid on the night 
of February 16, 1716, and were long called 
Lord Derwentwater's Lights in the north of 
England, where, it is said, many of the people 
know (or knew) them by no other name. It 
was even a popular belief that the aurora 
borealis was first seen on that night : Notes 
and Queries, Third Series, IX, 154, 268; Gib- 
son, Dilston Hall, p. 111. 

The omen of nose-bleed occurs in the ballad 
of ' The Mother's Malison,' No 216, O ; both 
nose-bleed and horse-stumbling, as omens, in 
Webster's Dutchess of Malfi, Act II, Scene 
2, Dyce, 1859, p. 70, cited, with other cases, 
in Ellis's ed. of Brand's Antiquities, II, 497. 

'Brig. Macintosh's Farewell to the High- 
lands,' or 'Macintosh was a Soldier Brave,' 
is one half a Derwentwater ballad : see Har- 
land's Ballads and Songs of Lancashire, 1865, 
p. 75, Ritson's Northumberland Garland, p. 
85, Hogg's Jacobite Relics, II, 102, etc. 



V 



Motherwell's MS., p. 331, July 19, 1825, "from the reci- 
tation of Agnes Lile, Kilbarchan, a woman verging on 
fifty ; " learned from her father, who died fourteen years 
before, at the age of eighty. 

1 Our king has wrote a lang letter, 

And sealed it owre with gold ; 
He sent it to my lord Dunwaters, 

To read it if he could. , 

2 He has not sent it with a boy, with a boy, 

Nor with anie Scotch lord ; 
But he 's sent it with the noblest knight 
Eer Scotland could afford. 

3 The very first line that my lord did read, 

He gave a smirkling smile ; 
Before he had the half o 't read, 
The tears from his eyes did falL 

4 ' Come saddle to me my horse,' he said, 

' Come saddle to me with speed ; 

* See W. S. Gibson, Dilston Hall, etc., 1850, p. 54. 



For I must away to fair London town, 
For me was neer more need.' 

5 Out and spoke his lady gay, 

In child-bed where she lay : 

* I would have you make your will, my lord 

Dunwaters, 
Before you go away.' 

6 ' I leave to you, my eldest son, 

My houses and my land ; 
I leave to you, my second son, 
Ten thousand pounds in hand. 

7 ' I leave to you, my lady gay — 

You are my wedded wife — 
I leave to you, the third of my estate ; 
That '11 keep you in a lady's life.' 

8 They had not rode a mile but one, 

Till his horse fell owre a stane : 

* It 's warning gude eneuch,' my lord Dunwac 

ters said, 
' Alive I '11 neer come hame.' 



118 



208. LORD DERWENTWATER 



9 When they came into fair London town, 
Into the courtiers' hall, 
The lords and knichts in fair London town 
Did him a traitor call. 

10 ' A traitor ! a traitor ! ' says my lord, 
' A traitor ! how can that be. 
An it was na for the keeping of five thousand 
men 
To fight for King Jamie ? 



11 ' O all you lords and knichts in fair London 

town, 
Come out and see me die ; 
O all you lords and knichts into fair London 

town. 
Be kind to my ladie. 

12 ' There 's fifty pounds in my richt pocket. 

Divide it to the poor ; 
There 's other fifty pounds in my left pocket, 
Divide it from door to door.' 



Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 492, 1855 ; learned 
some forty five years before from an old gentleman, who, 
S about 1773, got it by heart from an old washerwoman sing- 
ing at her tub. 

1 The king he wrote a love-letter, 

And he sealed it up with gold. 
And he sent it to Lord Derwentwater, 
For to read it if he could. 

2 The first two lines that he did read. 

They made him for to smile ; 
But the next two lines he looked upon 
Made the tears from his eyes to fall. 

3 ' Oh,' then cried out his lady fair, 

As she in child-bed lay, 
* Make your will, make your will, Lord Deiv 
wentwater. 
Before that you go away.' 

4 ' Then here 's for thee, my lady fair, 

A thousand pounds of beaten gold, 
To lead you a lady's life.' 



his milk-white steed. 
The ring dropt from his little finger, 
And his nose it began to bleed. 

6 He rode, and he rode, and he rode along, 

Till he came to Westminster Hull, 
Where all the lords of England's court 
A traitor did him call. 

7 ' Oh, why am I a traitor ? ' said he ; 

' Lideed, I am no such thing ; 
I have fought the battles valiantly 
Of James, our noble king.' 

8 then stood up an old gray-headed man, 

With a pole-axe in his hand : 
* 'T is your head, 't is your head. Lord Der- 
wentwater, 
'T is your head that I demand.' 



9 



His eyes with weeping sore, 
He laid his head upon the block. 
And words spake never more. 



Bell's Rhymes of Northern Bards, 1812, p. 225. 

The king has vn-itten a broad letter, 

And seald it up with gold, 
And sent it to the lord of Derwentwater, 

To read it if he would. 



2 He sent it with no boy, no boy. 

Nor yet with eer a slave. 
But he sent it with as good a knight 
As eer a king could have. 

3 When he read the three first lines, 

He then began to smile ; 
And when he read the three next lines 
The tears began to sile. 



a08. LORD DEBWENTWATEB 



119 



D 

Kinloch MSS, I, 323. 

1 The king has written a braid letter, 

And seald it up wi gowd, 
And sent it to Lord Derntwater, 
To read it if he coud. 

2 The first lines o 't that he read, 

A blythe, blythe man was he ; 
But ere he had it half read through, 
The tear blinded his ee. 

3 * Go saddle to me my milk-white horse, 

Go saddle it with speed ; 
For I maun ride to Lun[n]on town, 
To answer for my head.' 

4 ' Your will, your will, my lord Derntwater, 

Your will before ye go ; 
For you will leave three dochters fair, 
And a wife to wail and woe.' 

6 * My will, my will, my lady Derntwater ? 
Ye are my wedded wife ; 
Be kind, be kind to my dochters dear, 
If I should lose my life.' 

6 He set his ae fit on the grund. 
The tither on the steed ; 
The ring upon his finger burst, 
And his nose began to bleed. 



7 He rode till he cam to Lunnon town. 

To a place they ca Whiteha ; 
And a' the lords o merry England 
A traitor him gan ca. 

8 * A traitor ! a traitor ! O what means thb ? 

A traitor ! what mean ye ? ' 
' It 's a' for the keeping o five hundred men 
To fecht for bonny Jamie.' 

9 Then up started a gray-headed man, 

Wi a braid axe in his hand : 
' Your life, your life, my lord Derntwater, 
Your life 's at my command.' 

10 * My life, my life, je old gray-headed man. 

My life I '11 freely gie ; 
But before ye tak my life awa 
Let me speak twa words or three. 

11 ' I 've fifty pounds in ae pocket. 

Go deal it frae door to door ; 
I 've fifty five i the other pocket, 
Go gie it to the poor. 

12 * The velvet coat that I hae on. 

Ye may tak it for your fee ; 
And a' ye lords 6 merry Scotland 
Be kind to my ladie ! ' 



I 



E 



Communicated to Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, XI, 
499, 1873, by Mr J. P. Moriis, as taken down by him from 
the recitation of a woman nearly seventy years of age, at 
Ulverston, North Lancashire. 

1 The king wrote a letter to my lord Derwent- 

water. 
And he sealed it with gold ; 
He sent it to my Lord Derwentwater, 
To read it if he could. 

2 He sent it by no boy, 

He sent it by no slave. 
But he sent it by as true a knight 
As heart could wish or have. 



3 The very first line that he looked upon 

Made him for to laugh and to smile ; 
The very next line that he looked upon. 
The tears from his eyes did fall. 

4 He called to his stable-boy 

To saddle his bonny grey steed, 
* That I unto loving London 
May ride away with speed.' 

6 His wife heard him say so. 
In childbed as she lay ; 
Says she, ' My lord Derwentwater, 

Make thy will before thou goest away.* 

6 ' It 's to my little son I give 
My houses and my land. 



120 



208. LOBD DERWENTWATER 



And to my little daughter 

Ten thousand pounds in hand. 

7 ' And unto thee, my lady gay, 

Who is my wedded wife, 
The third part of my estate thou shalt have, 
To maintain thee through thy life.' 

8 He set his foot in the level stirrup, 

And mounted his bonny grey steed ; 
The gold rings from his fingers did break, 
And his nose began for to bleed. 

9 He had not ridden past a mile or two, 

When his horse stumbled over a stone ; 
* These are tokens enough,' said my lord Der- 
wentwater, 
* That I shall never return.' 

10 He rode and he rode till he came to merry 
London, 
And near to that famous hall ; 
The lords and knights of merry London, 
They did him a traitor call. 



11 ' A traitor ! a traitor ! a traitor ! ' he cried, 

' A traitor ! how can that be, 
Unless it 's for keeping five hundred men 
For to fight for King Jamie ? ' 

12 It 's up yon steps there stands a good old man. 

With a broad axe in his hand ; 
Says he, ' Now, my lord Derwentwater, 
Thy life 's at my command.' 

13 ' My life, my Ufe, thou good old man, 

My life I '11 give to thee. 
And the green coat of velvet on my back 
Thou mayst take it for thy fee. 

14 ' There 's fifty pounds and five in my right 

pocket. 
Give that unto the poor ; 
There 's twenty pounds and five in my left 

pocket, 
Deal that from door to door.' 

15 Then he laid his head on the fatal block, 

****** 



P 

Buchan's MSS, II, 478. 

1 The king has written a broad letter, 

And seald it with his hand. 
And sent it on to Lord Arnwaters, 
To read and understand. 

2 Now he has sent it by no boy, 

No boy, nor yet a slave. 
But one of England's fairest knights, 
The one that he would have. 

3 When first he on the letter lookd. 

Then he began to smile ; 
But ere he read it to an end. 
The tears did trickling fall. 

4 He calld upon his saddle-groom 

To saddle his milk-white steed, 
' For I unto London must go, 
For me there is much need.' 



' Make your will, make your will, my knight, 
For fear ye rue the day.' 

6 * I '11 leave unto my eldest son 

My houses and my lands ; 

I '11 leave unto my youngest son 

Full forty thousand pounds. 

7 ' I '11 leave unto my gay lady. 

And to my loving wife. 
The second part of my estate, 
To maintain a lady's life.' 

8 He kissd her on the pillow soft. 

In child-bed where she lay. 
And bade farewell, neer to return. 
Unto his lady gay. 

9 He put his foot in the stirup. 

His nose began to bleed ; 
The ring from 's finger burst in two 
When he mounted on his steed. 



6 Out then speaks his gay lady. 
In child-bed where she lay : 



10 He had not rode a mile or two 
Till his horse stumbled down ; 



208. LORD DEBWENTWATBR 



121 



' A token good,' said Lord Am waters, 
' I '11 never reach London town.' 

11 But when into Westminster Hall, 

Amongst the nobles all, 

* A traitor, a traitor. Lord Arnwaters, 

A traitor,' they did him call. 

12 * A traitor ? a traitor how call ye me ? 

And a traitor how can I be 
For keeping seven thousand valiant men 
To fight for brave Jamie ? ' 

13 Up then came a brave old man. 

With a broad ax in his hand : 

* Your life, your life, Lord Arnwaters, 

Your life 's at my command.' 



14 ' My life, my life, my brave old man, 

My life I '11 give to thee. 
And the coat of green that 's on my back 
You shall have for your fee. 

15 ' There 's fifty pounds in one pocket, 

Pray deal 't among the poor ; 
There 's fifty and four in the other pocket, 
Pray deal 't from door to door. 

16 ' There 's one thing more I have to say, 

This day before I die ; 
To beg the lords and nobles all 
To be kind to my lady.' 



G 

Motherwell's MS,, p. 126, from the recitation of Mrs 
Trail, Paisley, July 9, 1 825 : a song of her mother's. 

1 The king has wrote a long letter, 

And sealed it with his han, 
And he has sent it to my lord Dunwaters, 
To read it if he can. 

2 The very first line he lookit upon, 

It made him to lauch and to smile ; 
The very next line he lookit upon. 
The tear from his eye did fall. 



3 ' As for you, my auldest son, 

My houses and my land ; 
And as for you, my youngest son. 
Ten thousand pound in hand, 

4 ' As for you, my gay lady. 

You being my wedded wife. 
The third of my estate I will leave to you, 
For to keep you in a lady's life.' 



Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 
p, 537 ; as recited in 1881 by Mrs Dudley, of Much Wen- 
lock. 

1 The king he wrote a letter. 

And sealed it with gold. 
And sent it to Lor Derwentwater, 
To read it if he could. 

2 The first three lines he looked upon, 

They made him to smile ; 
And the next three lines he looked upon 
Made tears fall from his eyes. 

TOL.IV. 16 



3 O then bespoke his gay lady, 

As she on a sick-bed lay : 
* Make your will, my lord. 
Before you go away.' 

4 ' there is for my eldest son 

My houses and my land, 
And there is for my youngest son 
Ten thousand pounds in hand. 

5 ' There is for you, my gay lady, 

My true and lawful wife. 
The third part of my whole estate, 
To maintain you a lady's life.' 



122 



a08. LORD DERWBNTWATBE 



6 Then he called to his stable-groom 

To bring him his gray steed ; 
For he must to London go, 
The king had sent indeed. 

7 When he put his foot in the stirrup, 

To mount his grey steed, 
His gold ring from his finger burst, 
And his nose began to bleed. 

8 He had not gone but half a mUe 

When it began to rain ; 
* Now this is a token,' his lordship said, 
* That I shall not return again.' 

9 When he unto London came, 

A mob did at him rise. 
And they called him a traitor. 
Made the tears fall from his eyes. 



10 * A traitor, a traitor ! ' his lordship said, 

Is it for keeping eight score men 
To fight for pretty Jimmee ? * 

11 O then bespoke a grave man. 

With a broad axe in his hand : 
* Hold your tongue, Lord Derwentwater, 
Your life lies at my command.' 

12 * My life, my life,' his lordship said, 

' My life I will give to thee. 
And the black velvet coat upon my back. 
Take it for thy fee.' 

13 Then he laid his head upon the block, 

He did such courage show, 
And asked the executioner 
To cut it o£E at one blow. 



The Gentleman's Magazine, 1825, vol. xcv, Part First, p. 
489, taken down by G. H., apparently in Westmoreland, from 
the dictation of an old person who had learned it from her 
father ; restored " to something like poetical propriety " by 
the assistance of " a poetical friend." 

1 KixG George he did a letter write. 

And sealed it up with gold. 
And sent it to Lord Derwentwater, 
To read it if he could. 

2 He sent his letter by no post, 

He sent it by no page, 
But sent it by a gallant knight 
As eer did combat wage. 

3 The first line that my lord lookd on 

Struck him with strong surprise; 
The second, more alarming still, 
Made tears fall from his eyes. 

4 He called up his stable-groom, 

Saying, Saddle me well my steed, 
For I must up to London go, 
Of me there seems great need. 

5 His lady, hearing what he said, 

As she in child-bed lay, 
Cry'd, My dear lord, pray make your will 
Befortf you go away. 



6 • I 'II leave to thee, my eldest son, 

My houses and my land ; 
I '11 leave to thee, my younger son, 
Ten thousand pounds in hand. 

7 * I '11 leave to thee, my lady gay. 

My lawful married wife, 
A third part of my whole estate. 
To keep thee a lady's life.' 

8 He knelt him down by her bed-side. 

And kissed her lips so sweet ; 
The words that passd, alas ! presaged 
They never more should meet. 

9 Again he calld his stable-groom. 

Saying, Bring me out my steed, 
For I must up to London go. 
With instant haste and speed. 

10 He took the reins into his hand. 

Which shook with fear and dread ; 
The rings from off his fingers dropt, 
His nose gushd out and bled. 

11 He had but ridden miles two or three 

When stumbling fell his steed ; 
' 111 omens these,' Derwentwater said, 
' That I for James must bleed.' 

12 As he rode up Westminster street, 

In sight of the White Uall, 



209. 6EOBDIE 



123 



The lords and ladies of London town 
A traitor they did him call. 

13 ' A traitor ! ' Lord Derwentwater said, 

' A traitor how can I be, 
Unless for keeping five hundred men 
Fighting for King Jemmy ? ' 

14 Then started forth a grave old man. 

With a brpad-mouthd axe in hand : 
• Thy head, thy head, Lord Derwentwater, 
Thy head 's at my command.' 

15 ' My head, my head, thou grave old man, 

My head I will give thee ; 
Here 's a coat of velvet on my back 
Will surely pay thy fee. 



16 'But give me leave,' Derwentwater said, 

' To speak words two or three ; 
Ye lords and ladies of London town, 
Be kind to my lady. 

1 7 ' Here 's a purse of fifty sterling pounds, 

Pray give it to the poor; 
Here 's one of forty-five beside 
You may dole from door to door.' 

18 He laid his head upon the block, 

The axe was sharp and strong, 



^ 



J 



Ajfx 



%^S'^ 



/^ 



A. 2*. Ere. 7". the 3rd. 

Motherwell has made a few changes in his 
printed copy. 
12. This stanza is given in Notes and Qtce- 
ries, First Series, I, 318, by a scholar of 
Christ's Hospital, who informs us that 
the ballad was there current about 1785- 
1800 : 

There 's fifty pounds in my right pocket, 
To be given to the poor ; 



There 's fifty pounds in my left pocket, 
To be given from door to door. 

B. V'. And sealed it with gold in Mr J. P. Mor- 
ris's communication to Notes and Queries, 
the same volume, p. 333. 
P. 2^ by and by : cf E 2. 

2*^. No one, no not a slave : c/l E 2. 
I. 18. The remainder of four stanzas appended 
by G. H. is omitted. 



209 
GEORDIE 



A. * Geordie,' Johnson's Musical Museum, No 346, P. * Geordie Lukely,' Motherwell's MS., p. 367. 
p. 357, 1792. 



B. *« Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
Abbotsford, 1802. 

C. a. ' The Laird of Geight, or Gae.' b. • The Laird 
of Geight.' " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border 
Minstrelsy," Abbotsford, 1813-15. 

D. ' The Laird of Gigh, or Gae,' " Scotch Ballads, Ma- 
terials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford, 1813-15. 

E. a. Kinloch MSS, V, 180. b. ' Geordie,' Kinloch's 
Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 192. 



Q. 'Geordie,' 'Geordie Lukelie,' Motherwell's Note- 
Book, p. 17, p. 10. 

H. 'Will ye go to the Hielans, Geordie?* Christie, 
Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 44. 

I. a. * Gight's Lady,' Bucban'sMSS,II, 143. b. 'Laird 
(Lord?; of Gight,' Kinloch MSS, VI, 1. 

J. ' Gight's Lady,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of 
Scotland, I, 133. 

K. Motherwell's MS., p. 400, two stanzas. 



124 



209. 6EORDIE 



L. 'Geordie,' Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, TI, 186, N. ' Geordie,' Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 20, one 
two stanzas. stanza. 

M. 'Geordie,' ' Geordie Lukely,' Motherwell's Note- 
Book, p. 2, one stanza. 



" Of this," says Motherwell, " many varia- 
tions exist among reciters," and his remark is 
borne out by what is here given. 

The copy in Cunningham's Songs of Scot- 
land, II, 186, is A retouched, with st. 5 
dropped and two stanzas (L) inserted from 
recitation. The texts of Christie, I, 62, 84, 
are J abridged and E b. Of J Christie says 
that he heard in 1848 a version sung by a na- 
tive of Buchan, Aberdeenshire, who had it 
through her grandmother and great-grand- 
mother, which differed only in being more 
condensed and wanting the catastrophe, and 
in having Badenoch's lady for Bignet's, and 
Keith-Hall and Gartly for Black Riggs and 
Kincraigie. 

Geordie Gordon, A, of Gight (Gigh), B b, 
C, D, I, of the Bog o Gight, H, is in prison, 
on a charge endangering his life. He sends a 
message to his wife to come to Edinburgh. 
She rides thither with the utmost haste, and 
finds Geordie in extremity. She is told that 
his life may be redeemed by the payment of 
a large sum of money. She raises a contri- 
bution on the spot, pays the ransom, and 
rides off with her husband. 

Kinloch and others incline to take Geordie 
to be George Gordon, fourth earl of Huntly, 
who incurred the Queen Regent's displeasure 
for failing to execute a commission against a 
Highland robber in 1554. Huntly was com- 
mitted to Edinburgh Castle, and some of his 
many enemies urged that he should be ban- 
ished to France, others that he should be put 
to death. The Earl of Cassilis, though a foe 
to Huntly, resisted these measures on grounds 
of patriotism, and proposed that he should be 
deprived of certain honors and offices and 

• Buchanan, Rer. Scot. Hist., fol. 186 ; Lesley, History 
of Scotland, p. 251 f. 

t In J, which cannot be relied on for smaller points, we 



fined. A fine was exacted, and the places 
which had been taken from him were re- 
stored.* With regard to this hypothesis, it 
may at least be said that, if it should be ac- 
cepted, the ballad would be quite as faithful 
to history as many others. 

A-E are the purer forms of the ballad ; 
P-J are corrupted by admixture. 

Geordie is Geordie Lukely of Stirling in P. 
In G, he is the Earl of Cassilis, 'of Hye,' as 
if some singer of the Gordons had turned the 
tables on Huntly's enemy. In H, Geordie 
lives at the Bog o Gight, and should be the 
Earl, or Marquis, of Huntly ; but writers of 
peerages will consult st. 17. 

There has been a battle in the North in 
A-B. Sir Charles Hayf has been killed, and 
Geordie is in custody for this. A, B. Geordie 
has killed a man and is to die, C ; the man is 
his wife's brother, D. In B, Geordie is a 
rebel. 

P begins with two stanzas from a vulgar 
last-dying-speech, of which more by and by : 
otherwise the story is not essentially injured, 
though the style is lowered. Geordie (in the 
first two stanzas) has done many an ill deed, 
but no murder or slaughter ; he has stolen 
fifteen of the king's horse and sold them in 
Bohemia. Earl Cassilis, likewise, in G, could 
not keep his hand off horses ; he has stolen 
three geldings out of a park and sold them 
to Balleny (Balveny). Huntly, if it be he, 
in H, has only made free with the king's deer. 
In I, J, Geordie has had an intrigue with Big- 
net's (Pilbagnet's, Badenoch's) lady, for 
which the husband has thrown him into 
prison, and he is to die. But he owns to more 
than this in J. Beginning with an acknowl- 
edgment of one of the king's best steeds stolen 

read that Charles Hay has been hanged, for reasons not 
given : st. 20. 



209. GEORDIE 



125 



r 



and sold in ' Bevany,' upon being pressed, he 
confesses to a woman abused and five orphan 
babes killed for their money. 

Geordie points his message to his wife in 
C 2, D 4, by begging her to sew him or 
bring him his linen shirt (shirts), a good side 
shirt, which will be the last he shall need, and 
a lang side sark is equally prominent in the 
lady's thoughts in I 8. 

The lady stops for nothing in her ride to 
Edinburgh. She will not, and does not, eat or 
drink all the way, A 4, 5. When she comes 
to the water-side, finding no boat ready, she 
swims the Queen's Ferry, B 7, C 5, D 9, J 13, 
L 1 ; or pays a boatman prodigally to take 
her over, H 9, I 9, J 14. 

When the lady gaes oer the pier of Leith, 
comes to Edinburgh, to the West Port, the Ca- 
nongate, the Parliament Close, the tolbooth- 
stair, the prison-door, she deals out crowns and 
ducatoons, makes the handfus o red gold fly, 
among the numerous poor, and bids them pray 
for Geordie. She has the prudence, in G 5, 
to do the same among the nobles many at 
the tolbooth-gate, that they may plead for 
Geordie. 

The block and axe are in sight, and Geordie, 
in chains, is coming down the stair, A; the 
napkin is laid over his face, and the gallows is 
making ready, B (so P, but put further on), 
his head is to go, C ; the rest of the nobles sit 
(stand) hat on head, but hat in hand stands 
Geordie, D, B, H, I, J, L. 

The lady makes a plea for her husband's 
life. She is the mother of many children (the 
tale ranges from six to eleven) and is going 
with yet another, B, C, K, N. She would 
bear them all over again for the life of 
Geordie, O, D, or see them all streekit before 
her eyes, B; and for his life she will part 
with all that she owns, A 10, B 11, 16, 
D 14. 

The king in A is moved by neither of these 
appeals. The number of her children is so 

* This intimation is repeated in G 10, with the ludicrous 
variation of bloody * breaks.' In B, an English lord, whose 
competency and interest in the matter are alike difficult to 
comprehend, declares that he will have Geordie hanged, will 
have Geordie's head, before the morrow. A Scottish lord 
rejoins that he will cast off his coat and fight, will fight in 



far from affecting him that he orders the 
heading-man to make haste. But the Gordons 
collect and pass the word to be ready. There 
would have been bloody bouks upon the 
green.* 

The lady is told that by paying a good 
round sum, 5,000 (500) pounds, 10,000 (1000) 
crowns, she can redeem Geordie's life. An 
aged lord prompts the king to offer these terms 
in A ; in the other versions, they are proposed 
directly ; by the king himself, P, G, I ; by 
the queen, B, I ; by the good Argyle, D ; by 
an English lord, H. The bj'^standers con- 
tribute handsomely; she pays the ransom 
down, and wins the life of Geordie, A-D, 
G-J. 

In E, which is a mere fragment, there is 
no fine or collection : a bold baron says, such 
true lovers shall not be parted, and she gets 
her Geordie forthwith. In P, no contribution 
is required, because the lady, after scattering 
the red gold among the poor, is still in a con- 
dition to produce the five thousand pound 
from her own pocket. For this she receives a 
' remit,' with which she hies to the gallows 
and stops the impending execution. In I b, 
which is defective, the money collected is to 
pay the jailer's fee. After the discharge has 
been secured (in two or three copies earlier). 
Lord Corstorph, B a, the Laird o Logie, B b, 
an Irish lord, C, H, an English lord, D, the 
gleid Argyle, I, Lord Montague, J, expresses 
a wish that Geordie's head were off, because 
he might have succeeded to the lady. The 
lady checks this aspiration, sometimes in very 
abusive language. 

The pair now ride off together, and when 
she is set in her saddle, no bird in bush or on 
briar ever sang so sweet as she, B, C, B, P, 
H, I. If we were to trust some of those who 
recite her story, the lady who has shown so 
much spirit and devotion was not one of those 
who blush to find good deeds fame. ' Gar 
print me ballants that I am a worthy lady,' 

blood up to the knees; and the king adds, there will be 
bloody heads among us all, before that happens. Who the 
parties to the fight are to be, unless it is the English lord 
against Scotland, is not evident. B is inflated with super- 
fluous verses. 



126 



209. GEORDIE 



B 30 makes her say ; ' Hae me to some writ- 
er's house, that I may write down Gight's la- 
ment and how I borrowed Geordie,' I a 25 ; 
' Call for one of the best clerks, that he may 
write all this I've done for Geordie,' J 36. 
What she really did say is perhaps faithfully 
given in D18: 'Where is there a writer's 
house, that I may write to the north that I 
have won the life of Geordie ? ' 

I and J are probably from stall-prints, and 
it has not been thought necessary to notice 
some things which may have been put into 
these to eke them out to a convenient length. 
J has an entirely spurious supplement. 
When the pair are riding away, and even as 
the wife is protesting her affection, Geordie 
turns round and says, A finger of Bignet's 
lady's hand is worth a' your fair body. A dis- 
pute ensues, and Geordie pulls out a dagger 
and stabs his lady ; he then takes to flight, 
and never is found. Another set, mentioned 
by Motherwell, makes Geordie drown his 
deliverer in the sea, in a fit of jealousy 
(Minstrelsy, p. Ixxvi, 46). 

There is an English broadside ballad, on 
the death of " George Stoole " which seemed 
to Motherwell " evidently imitated from the 
Scottish song." This was printed by H. Gos- 
son, whose time is put at 1607-41.* This 
ballad was to be sung " to a delicate Scottish 
tune ; " Georgy comes in as a rhyme at the 
end of stanzas not seldom ; Georgy writes to 
his lad}', bewailing his folly ; he never stole 
no oxe nor cow, nor ever murdered any, but 
fifty horse he did receive of a merchant's man 
of Gory, for which he was condemned to die, 
and did die. These are the data for deter- 
mining the question of imitation. 

There is a later ' Georgy ' ballad, of the 
same general cast, on the life and death of 
" George of Oxford," a professed and con- 
fessed hiohwayman, a broadside printed in 
the last quarter of the seventeenth century. 
In this, Lady Gray hastens to Newcastle to 



beg Georgy's life of the judge, and offers gold 
and land to save him, after the fashion of 
Lady Ward in ' Hughie Graham ; ' to no pur- 
pose, as in ' Hughie Graham.' This Georgy 
owns and boasts himself a thief, but with lim- 
itations much the same as those which are 
made a point of by the other ; he never stole 
horse, mare, or cloven-foot, with one excep- 
tion — the king's white steeds, which he sold 
to Bohemia. 

Both of these ballads are given in an ap- 
pendix. 

Whether the writers of these English bal- 
lads knew of the Scottish ' Geordie,' I would 
not undertake to affirm or deny ; it is clear 
that some far-back reciter of the Scottish 
ballad had knowledge of the later English 
broadside. The English ballads, however, 
are mere "goodnights." The Scottish ballads 
have a proper story, with a beginning, middle, 
and end, and (save one late copy), a good 
end, and they are most certainly original and 
substantially independent of the English. 
The Scottish Geordie is no thief, nor even a 
Johnie Armstrong. There are certain pas- 
sages in certain versions which give that im- 
pression, it is true, but these are incongru- 
ous with the story, and have been adopted 
from some copy of the broadside, the later 
rather than the earlier. These are, the first 
two stanzas of F, utterly out of place, where 
we have the king's horses stolen and sold 
in Bohemia, almost exactly as in the bal- 
lad of ' George of Oxford,' 15 ; G 7, where 
the Earl of Cassilis is made to steal geldings 
and sell them in Balleny ; and J 23, in which 
the Laird of Gight steals one of the king's 
steeds (precisely as in ' George of Oxford ') 
and sells it in Bevany. That is to say, we 
have the very familiar case of the introduction 
(generally accidental and often infelicitous) 
of a portion of one ballad into another ; which, 
if accidental in the present instance, would 
easily be accounted for by a George being 



* It seems to have been familiar in Aberdeen as early as 
1627. Joseph Haslewood made an entry in his copy of Rit- 
. |s I son's Scotish Song of a manuscript Lute-Book (presented in 
'^'^ I 1781 to Dr Charles Burney by Dr Skene of Marischal 
College) which contained airs noted and collected by Robert 



Gordon, "at Aberdein, in the yeare of our Lord 1627." | 
Among some ninety titles of tunes mentioned, there occur .' 
* 'I'her wer three ravns ' and ' God be with the, Geordie.' / 
(W. Macmath.) ' 



309. GEOEDIE 



127 



the hero in each. Further ; the burden of B, 
embodied in the bal'lud in two versions, I 27, 
J 35, has a general resemblance to that of 
' George Stoole,' and could hardly have been 
original with the Scottish ballad. There was 



probably a ' Geordie Luklie,' a Scottish vari- 
ety of one of the English broadsides. 

G is translated by Gerhard, p. 56 ; A, in 
part, by Knortz, Schottische Balladeu, p. 101. 



Johnson's Museum, No 346, p. 357, 1792; communicated 
by Robert Burns. 

1 There was a battle in the north, 

And nobles there was many, 
And they hae killd Sir Charlie Hay, 
And they laid the wyte on Geordie. 

2 he has written a lang letter, 

He sent it to his lady : 
* Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town, 
To see what word 's o Geordie.' 

3 "When first she lookd the letter on, 

She was baith red and rosy ; 
But she had na read a word but twa 
Till she wallowt like a lily. 

4 ' Gar get to me my gude grey steed, 

My menyie a' gae wi me, 
For I shall neither eat nor drink 
Till Enbrugh town shall see me.' 

5 And she has mountit her gude grey 

steed, 
Her menyie a' gaed wi her. 
And she did neither eat nor drink 
Till Enbrugh town did see her. 

6 And first appeard the fatal block, 

And syne the aix to head him. 
And Geordie cumin down the stair, 
And bands o airn upon him. 

7 But tho he was chaind in fetters Strang, 

O airn and steel sae heavy, 

There was na ane in a' the court 

Sae bra a man as Geordie. 



8 O she 's down on her bended knee, 

I wat she 's pale and weary : 

' pardon, pardon, noble king, 

And gie me back my dearie ! 

9 ' I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, 

The seventh neer saw his daddie ; 
O pardon, pardon, noble king. 
Pity a waef u lady ! ' 

10 * Gar bid the headin-man male haste,* 

Our king reply 'd fu lordly : 
* O noble king, tak a' that 's mine. 
But gie me back my Geordie ! ' 

11 The Gordons cam, and the Gordons ran. 

And they were stark and steady, 
And ay the word amang them a' 
Was, Gordons, keep you ready ! 

12 An aged lord at the king's right hand 

Says, Noble king, but hear me ; 
Gar her tell down five thousand pound. 
And gie her back her dearie. 

13 Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, 

Some gae her dollars many. 
And she 's telld down five thousand pound, 
And she 's gotten again her dearie. 

14 She blinkit blythe in her Geordie's face, 

Says, Dear I 've bought thee, Geordie ; 
But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green 
Or I had tint my laddie. 

15 He claspit her by the middle sma, 

And he kist her lips sae rosy : 
' The fairest flower o woman-kind 
Is my sweet, bonie lady ! ' 



128 



209. GEORDIE 



B 

a. " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 
13, Abbotsford. Sent to Scott by William Laidlaw, Sep- 
tember 11, 1802 (Letters, vol. i, No 73), as written down by 
Laidlaw from the recitation of Mr Bartram of Biggar. b. 
Variations received by Laidlaw from J. Scott. 

1 ' There was a battle i the north 

Amang our nobles many, 
And they have killed Sir Charles Hay, 
And they 've taen thrae me my Geordie.' 

2 * O where '11 1 gett a wi bit boy, 

A bonnie boy that 's ready. 

That will gae in to my biggin 

With a letter to my ladie ? ' 

3 Then up and startit a wi bit boy, 

An a bonnie boy was ready : 
' It 's I '11 gae in to your biggin 
Wi a letter to your ladie.' 

4 When the day was fair an the way was clear, 

An the wi bit boy was ready. 
An he 's gane in to his biggin, 
Wi a letter to his ladie. 

5 When she lookd the letter on, 

She was no a wearit ladie ; 
But when she lookit the other side, 
She mourned for her Geordie. 

6 ' Gar sadle to me the black,' she says, 

' For the brown rade neer sey bonnie. 
An I 'U gae down to Enbro town, 
An see my true-love Geordie.' 

7 When she cam to the water-side. 

The cobles war na ready ; 
She 's turnd her horse's head about. 
An in by the Queen's Ferry. 

8 When she cam to the West Port, 

There war poor folks many ; 
She dealt crowns an the ducatdowns, 
And bade them pray for Geordie. 

9 When she cam to the Parliament Gloss, 

There amang our nobles many. 

Cravats an caps war standing there. 

But low, low lay her Geordie. 

10 When she gaed up the tolbooth-stairs, 
Amang our nobles manie, 



The napkin 's tyed oer Geordie's face. 
And the gallows makin ready. 

11 ' O wad ye hae his lands or rents ? 

Or wad ye hae his monie ? 
Take a', a' frae him but his sark alone, 
Leave me my true-love Geordie.' 

12 The captain pu'd her on his knee, 

An ca'd her heart an honey : 
' An ye wad wait se'en years for me, 
Ye wad never jump for Geordie.' 

13 ' O hold your tongue, you foolish man, 

Your speech it 's a' but folly ; 
For an ye wad wait till the day ye die, 
I wad neer take John for Geordie.' 

14 'T was up an spak the Lord Corstarph, 

The ill gae wi his body ! 
' O Geordie's neck it war on a block, 
Gif I had his fair ladie ! ' 

15 ' O hand yer tongue, ye foolish man, 

Yer speech is a' but folly ; 
For if Geordie's neck war on a block. 
Ye sould neer enjoy his ladie. 

16 ' It 's I hae se'en weel gawn mills, 

I wait they a' gang daily ; 
I '11 gie them a' an amang ye a' 
For the sparin o my Geordie. 

17 ' I hae ele'en bairns i the wast, 

I wait the're a' to Geordie ; 
I 'd see them a' streekit afore mine eyes 
Afore I lose my Geordie. 

18 ' I hae ele'en bairns i the wast, 

The twalt bears up my body ; 
The youngest 's on his nurse's knee, 
An he never saw his dadie. 

19 ' I hae se'en uncles in the north. 

They gang baith proud an lordly ; 
I 'd see them a' tread down afore my 
eyes 
Afore I lose my Geordie.' 

20 Then out an spak an English lord. 

The ill gae wi his bodie ! 
* It 's I gard hang Sir Francie Grey, 
An I '11 soon gar hang your Geordie.' 



209. GEORDIE 



129 



21 It 's out an spak than a Scottish lord, 

May the weel gae wi his body ! 

* It 's I '11 cast oi my coat an f eght 

Afore ye lose your Geordie.' 

22 It 's out then spak an English lord, 

May the ill gae wi his bodie ! 
' Before the morn at ten o'clock, 
I 's hae the head o Geordie.' 

23 Out then spak the Scottish lord, 

May the weel gae wi his body ! 

* I '11 fight i bluid up to the knees 

Afore ye lose your Geordie.' 

24 But out an spak the royal king, 

May the weel gae wi his body ! 

* There 's be bluidie heads amang us a' 

Afore ye lose your Geordie.' 

26 'T was up than spak the royal queen, 
' May the weel gae wi his body ! 
Tell down, tell down five hunder pound, 
An ye 's get wi you yer Geordie.' 



26 Some gae her gold, some gae her crowns. 

Some gae her ducats many, 
An she 's telld down five hundred pound. 
An she 's taen away her Geordie. 

27 An ay she praisd the powers above. 

An a' the royal family. 
An ay she blessed the royal queen. 
For sparin o her Geordie. 

28 

Nae bird sang sweeter in the bush 
Than she did wi her Geordie. 

29 * It 's wo be to my Lord Costorph, 

It 's wo be to him daily ! 
For if Geordie's neck had been on the block 
He had neer enjoy d his ladie. 

30 * Gar print me ballants weel,' she said, 

' Gar print me ballants many. 
Gar print me ballants weel,' she said, 
' That I am a worthy ladie.' 



a. "Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
Abbotsford, No 38, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813-15, p. 
16 ; taken down from the singing of Miss Christy Robert- 
eon, Dunse. b. "Scotch Ballads," etc., No 108, in a lady's 
hand, and perhaps obtained directly from Miss Eobertson. 

1 Theee was a battle in the north, 
Among the nobles many ; 
The Laird of Geight he 's killd a man. 
And there 's nane to die but Geordie. 



2 * What news ? what news, my bonny boy ? 

What news hae ye frae Geordie ? ' 
* He bids ye sew his linen shirts. 
For he 's sure he '11 no need many.' 

3 * Go saddle the black, go saddle the brown, 

Go saddle to me the bonny ; 
For I will neither eat nor drink 
Until I see my Geordie.' 

VOL. IV. 17 



4 They 've saddled the black, they 've saddled 

the brown, 
They 've saddled her the bonny. 
And she is away to Edinborough town, 
Straight away to see her Geordie. 

5 When she came to the sea-side. 

The boats they were nae ready ; 
She turned her horse's head about, 
Ajid swimd at the Queen's Ferry. 

6 And when she came to the prison-door. 

There poor folks they stood many ; 
She dealt the red guineas them among, 
And bade them pray weel for Geordie. 

7 And when she came into the hall, 

Amang the nobles many, 
The napkin 's tied on Geordie's face. 
And the head 's to gae frae Geordie. 

8 * I have born ten bonny sons, 

And the eleventh neer sa his dadie, 



I 



130 



209. GEOKDIE 



And I will bear them all oer again 
For the life o bonny Geordie. 

9 *I have born the Laird of Gight, 

And the Laird of bonny Pernonnie ; 
And I will gie them all to thee 

For the life of my bonny Geordie.' 

10 Up then spoke [a kind-hearted man], 

Wha said, He 's done good to many ; 
If ye '11 tell down ten hundred crowns 
Away ye shall hae yer Geordie. 

11 Some telld shillings, and some telld crowns, 

But she telld the red guineas many, 
TiU they 've telld down ten hundred crowns, 
And away she 's got her Geordie. 



12 [It 's up then spoke an Irish lord, 

And O but he spoke bauldly ! ] 

* I wish his head had been on the block, 

That I might hae got his fair lady.' 

13 She turned about .... 

And but she spoke boldly ! 

* A pox upon your nasty face ! 

Will ye eer be compared to my Geor- 
die?' 

14 She set him on a milk-white steed. 

Herself upon another ; 
The thrush on the briar neer sang so clear 
As she sang behind her Geordie. 



" Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 
64, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813-1.5, p. 50, Al)botsford. "I 
took this down from the recitation of Janet Scott, Bowden, 
^ who sung it to a beautiful plaintive old air." 

1 There was a battle i the north 

Among the nobles many, 
The Laird of Gigh he 's killd a man, 
The brother of his lady. 

2 * Where will I get a man or boy. 

That will win both goud and money, 
That will run into the north. 
And fetch to me my lady ? ' 

3 Up then spake a bonny boy. 

He was both bly the and merry ; 
* O I will run into the north. 
And fetch to you your lady.' 

4 ' You may tell her to sew me a gude side shirt. 

She '11 no need to sew me mony ; 
Tell her to bring me a gude side shirt, 
It will be the last of any.' 

5 He has written a broad letter. 

And he 's seald it sad and sorry ; 
He 's gaen it to that bonny boy. 
To take to his fair lady. 

6 Away the bonny boy he 's gaen. 

He was both blythe and merrie ; 



He 's to that fair lady gane. 

And taen her word frae Geordie. 

7 When she looked the letter on, 

She was both sad and sorrie : 
* I '11 away to fair Edinburgh town 
Myself and see my Geordie. 

8 ' Gar saddle to me the black,' she says, 

* The brown was neer sae bonny ; 
And I '11 straight to Edinburgh 
Myself and see my Geordie.' 

9 When she came to that wan water. 

The boats was not yet ready ; 
She wheeld her horse's head around, 
And swimd at the Queen's Ferry. 

10 When she came to the Parliament Close, 

Amang the poor folks many. 
She dealt the crowns with duckatoons, 
And bade them pray for Geordy. 

11 When she came to the Parliament House, 

Among the nobles many, 
The rest sat all wi hat on head. 
But hat in hand sat Geordie. 

12 Up bespake an English lord, 

And he spake blythe and merrie ; 

' Was Geordie's head upon the block, 

I am sure I would have his lady.' 



209. 6EOBDIE 



131 



13 Up bespake that lady fair, 

And but she was sorrie ! 
* If Geordie's head were on the block, 
There 's never a man gain his lady. 

14 * I have land into the north. 

And I have white rigs many, 
And I could gie them a' to you 
To save the life of Geordie. 



16 Up bespake the gude Argyle ; 

He has befriended many ; 
* If ye '11 tell down ten hundred crowns, 
Ye 's win the life o Geordie.' 

17 Some gaed her shillings, and some her crowns, 

And some gaed her guinaas many. 
And she 's telld down ten hundred crowns, 
And she 's wone the life o Geordie. 



15 * I have seven children in the north, 
And they seem very bonnie, 
And I could bear them a' over again 
For to win the life o Geordie.' 



18 When she came down through Edinborough, 

And Geordie in her hand, 0, 
• Where will I get a writer's [house], 

A writer's house so ready. 
That I may write into the north 

I have wone the life o Geordie* ? 



E 






a. Kinloch MSS, V, 130; in the handwriting of James 
Beattie. b. Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 192. 

1 There was a battle in the north, 

And rebels there were many, 
And they were a' brought before the king, 
And taken was my Geordie. 

My Geordie 0, my Geordie O, 

the love I bear to Geordie ! , 
For the very ground I walk upon 
Bears witness I love Geordie. 

2 As she went up the tolbooth-stair, 
The cripples there stood many, 

And she dealt the red gold them among. 
For to pray for her love Geordie. 



3 And when she came unto the haU 

The nobles there stood many, 
And every one stood hat on head. 
But hat in hand stood Geordie. 

4 O up bespoke a baron bold. 

And O but he spoke bonnie ! 
* Such lovers true shall not parted be,* 
And she 's got her true-love Geordie. 

5 When she was mounted on her high horse. 

And on behind her Geordie, 
Nae bird on the brier eer sang sae clear 
As the young knight and his lady. 
O my Geordie O, O my Geordie O, 

O the love I bear to Geordie I 
The very stars in the firmament 
Bear tokens I love Geordie. 



Motherwell's MS., p. 367 ; from the recitation of Agnes 
Lyle, Kilbarchan. 

1 ' Geordie Lukely is my name, 

And many a one doth ken me ; O 
Many an ill deed I hae done, 

But now death will owrecome me. O 

2 ' I neither murdered nor yet have I slain, 

I never murdered any ; 



But I stole fyfteen o the liing's bay horse, 
And I sold them in Bohemia. 

3 * Where would I get a pretty little boy, 

That would fain win gold and money, 
That would carry this letter to Stirling town, 
And give it to my lady ? ' 

4 * Here am I, a pretty little boy. 

That wud fain win gold and money ; 



132 



209. GEORDIB 



I '11 carry your letter to Stirling town, 
And give it to your lady.' 

5 As he came in by Stirling town 

He was baith weet and weary ; 
The cloth was spread, and supper set, 
And the ladies dancing merry. 

6 When she read the first of it, 

She was baith glad and cheery ; 
But before she had the half o 't read. 
She was baith sad and sorry. 

7 * Come saddle to me the bonnie dapple gray, 

Come saddle to me the wee poney ; 
For I '11 awa to the king mysell, 

And plead for my ain love Geordie.' 

8 She gaed up the Cannogate, 

Amang the puir folk monie ; 
She made the handfus o red gold fly, 

And bade them pray for Geordie, 
And aye she wrang her lily-white hands. 

Saying, I am a wearyd lady ! 

9 Up and spoke the king himsell, 

And oh, but he spok bonnie ! 
* It 's ye may see by her countenance 
That she is Geordie's lady.' 

10 Up and spoke a bold bluidy wretch. 

And oh, but he spoke boldly ! 
' Tho [thou] should pay ten thousand pounds, 
Thou '11 never get thy own love Geordie. 

11 ' For I had but ae brother to mysell, 

I loved him best of any ; 



They cutted his head from his fair bodie. 
And so will they thy love Geordie.' 

12 Up and spoke the king again. 

And oh, but he spak bonnie ! 

* If thou '11 pay me five thousand pound, 

I '11 gie thee hame thy love Geordie.* 

13 She put her hand in her pocket. 

She freely paid the money. 
And she 's awa to the Gallows Wynd, 
To get her nain love Geordie. 

14 As she came up the Gallows Wynd, 

The people was standing many ; 
The psalms was sung, and the bells was 
rung. 
And silks and cords hung bonnie. 

15 The napkin was tyed on Geordie's face. 

And the hangman was just readie : 
' Hold your hand, you bluidy wretch ! 

O hold it from my Geordie ! 
For I 've got a remit from the king, 

That I '11 get my ain love Geordie.' 

16 When he heard his lady's voice. 

He was baith blythe and merry : 

* There 's many ladies in this place ; 

Have not I a worthy ladie ? ' 

17 She mounted him on the bonnie dapple 

grey. 
Herself on the wee poney, 
And she rode home on his right hand, 
All for the pride o Geordie. 



G 



Motherwell's Note Book, p. 17, p. 10; from Mrs Rule, 
Paisley, August 16, 1825. Apparently learned from a blind 
aunt, pp. 1, 3. 

1 The weather it is clear, and the wind blaws 

fair. 
And yonder a boy rins bonnie. 
And he is awa to the gates of Hye, 
With a letter to my dear ladie. 

2 The first line that she lookit on, 

She was baith red and rosy ; 



She droppit down, and she dropt in a swoon, 
Crys, Och and alace for Geordie ! 

3 ' Gar saddle to me the black, black horse ; 

The brown is twice as bonnie ; 
But I will neither eat nor drink 
Till I relieve my Geordie.' 

4 When she cam to the canny Cannygate, 

Amang the puir folk many. 
She made the dollars flee amang them a'. 
And she bade them plead for Geordie. 



209. GEORDIE 



133 



5 When she came to the tolbooth-gate, 

Amang the nobles many, 
She made the red gold flee amang them a', 
And she bade them plead for Geordie. 

6 Out and spoke the king himsell, 

* Wha 's aught this weary lady ? * 
Out and spoke a pretty little page, 
' She 's the Earl o Cassilis lady.' 

7 ' Has he killed ? or has he slain ? 

Or has he ravishd any ? ' 
' He stole three geldings out o yon park, 
And sold them to Balleny.' 



8 ' Pleading is idle,' said the king, 

' Pleading is idle with any ; 
But pay you down five hundred pund. 
And tak you hame your Geordie.' 

9 Some gave marks, and som gave crowns. 

Some gave dollars many ; 
She 's paid down the five hundred pund, 
And she 's relieved her Geordie. 

10 The lady smiled in Geordie's face : 
' Geordie, I have bocht thee ; 
But down in yon green there had been bluidy 
breeks 
Or I had parted wi thee.* 



¥ 



Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 44 ; " long favorite 
in the counties of Aberdeen and Banff." 

1 ' Will ye go to the Hielans, my bonny lad ? 

Will ye go to the Hielans, Geordie ? 
Though ye tak the high road and I tak the 
low, 
I will be in the Hielans afore ye.' 

2 He hadna been in the high Hielans 

A month but barely twa, O, 
Till he was laid in prison strong, 

For hunting the king's deer and rae, O. 

3 * where will I get a bonny, bonny boy, 

That wiU run my errand cannie, 
And gae quickly on to the bonny Bog o Gight, 
Wi a letter to my lady ? ' 

4 * O here am I, a bonny, bonny boy. 

That wiU run your errand cannie. 
And will gae on to the bonny Bog o Gight, 
Wi a letter to your lady.' 

5 When she did get this broad letter, 

A licht, licht laugh gae she, O ; 
But before she read it to an end 
The saut tear was in her ee, O. 

6 ' O has he robbd ? or has he stown ? 

Or has he killed ony? 
Or what is the ill that he has done, 

That he 's gaun to be hangd sae shortly ? ' 



7 ' He hasna robbd, he hasna stown, 

He hasna killed ony ; 
But he has hunted the king's deer and rae. 
And he will be hanged shortly.' 

8 ' Come saddle to me the bonny brown steed. 

For the black never rade sae bonny. 
And I will gae on to Edinboro town 
To borrow the life o my Geordie.' 

9 The first water-side that she cam to. 

The boatman wasna ready ; 
She gae anither skipper half-a-crown. 
To boat her oer the ferry. 

10 When she cam on to Edinboro town. 

The poor stood thick and mony ; 
She dealt them money roun and roun. 

Bade them pray for the life o her Geordie. 

11 When she gaed up the tolbooth-stair, 

She saw there nobles mony. 
And ilka noble stood hat on head, 
But hat in hand stood Geordie. 

12 Then out it spak an English lord. 

And vow, but he spake bonny ! 
* If ye pay down ten thousand crouns. 
Ye 'U get the life o your Geordie.' 

13 Some gae her marks, some gae her crouns, 

Some gae her guineas rarely, 
Till she paid down ten thousand crouns. 
And she got the life o her Geordie. 



134 



209. 6EOBDIE 



14 Then out it spak an Irish lord, 

O wae bef a his body ! 

* It 's a pity the knicht didna lose his head, 

That I micht hae gotten his lady.' 

15 But out it spak the lady hersel, 

And vow, but she spak bonny ! 

* The pock-marks are on your Irish face, 

You could not compare wi my Geordie ! ' 

16 "When she was in the saddle set. 

And on ahint her Geordie, 



The bird on the bush neer sang sae sweet, 
As she sung to her love Geordie. 

17 ' First I was mistress o bonny Auchindown, 

And I was lady o a' Carnie, 
But now I have come to the bonny Bog o Gight, 
The wife o my true-love Geordie. 

18 * If I were in the high Hielans, 

I would hear the white kye lowing ; 
But I 'd rather be on the bonny banks o Spey, 
To see the fish-boaties rowing.' 



a. Buchan's MSS, II, 143. b. Kinloch MSS, VI, 1, in 
the handwriting of Joseph Hobertsoa. 

1 *I CHOOSED my love at the bonny yates of 

Gight, 
Where the birks an the flowers spring bony, 
But pleasures I had never one. 
But crosses very mony. 

2 ' First I was mistress of Pitfan 

And madam of Kincraigie, 
And now my name is bonny Lady Anne, 
And I am Gight's own lady. 

3 * He does not use me as his wife. 

Nor cherish me as his lady. 
But day by day he saddles the grey, 
And rides o£E to Bignet's lady.* 

4 Bignet he got word of this. 

That Gight lay wi his lady ; 
He swore a vow, and kept it true, 
To be revengd on 's body. 

6 ' Where will I get a bonny boy 
Will run my errand shortly. 
That woud run on to the bonny yates o Gight 
Wi a letter to my lady ? * 

6 Gight has written a broad letter, 

And seald it soon and ready, 
And sent it on to Gight's own yates, 
For to acquaint his lady. 

7 The first of it she looked on, 

O dear ! she smiled bonny ; 



But as she read it till an end 
The tears were thick an mony. 

8 ' Come saddle to me the black,' she says, 

' Come saddle him soon and shortly, 
Ere I ride down to Edinburgh town, 
Wi a lang side sark to Gecrdy.' 

9 When she came to the boat of Leith, 

I wad she did na tarry ; 
She gave the boatman a guinea o gold 
To boat her oer the ferry. 

10 As she gaed oer the pier of Leith, 

Among the pearls many, 
She dealt the crowns and dukedoons. 
Bade them a' pray for Geordy. 

11 As she gaed up the tolbooth-stair, 

Among the nobles many. 
Every one sat hat on head. 
But hat in hand stood Geordy. 

12 ' Has he brunt ? or has he slain ? 

Or has he robbed any ? 
Or has he done any other crime. 
That gars you head my Geordy ? ' 

13 ' He hasna brunt, he hasna slain. 

He hasna robbed any ; 
But he has done another crime. 
For which he will pay dearly. ' 

14 In it comes him First Lord Judge, 

Says, George, I 'm sorry for you ; 
You must prepare yourself for death. 
For there '11 be nae mercy for you. 



209. GEOBDIE 



135 



15 In it comes him Second Lord Judge, 

Says, George I 'm sorry for you ; 
You must prepare yourself for death. 
For there '11 be nae mercy for you. 

16 Out it speaks Gight's lady herself, 

And vow, but she spake wordy ! 

* Is there not a lord among you all 

Can plead a word for Geordy ? ' 

17 Out it speaks the first Lord Judge: 

* What lady 's that amang you 
That speaks to us so boldly here, 
And bids us plead for Geordy ? * 

18 Out then spake a friend, her own. 

And says, It 's Gight's own lady, 
Who is come to plead her own lord's 
cause. 
To which she 's true and steady. 

19 The queen, looking oer her shott-window, 

Says, Ann, I 'm sorry for you ; 
If ye '11 tell down ten thousand crowns, 
Ye shall get home your Geordy. 

20 She 's taen the hat out of his hand, 

And dear ! it set her bonny ; 
She 's beggd the red gold them among, 
And a' to borrow Geordy. 

21 She turnd her right and round about 

Among the nobles many ; 
Some gave her dollars, some her crowns, 
And some gave guineas many. 



22 She spread her mantle on the floor, 

dear ! she spread it bonny. 
And she told down that noble sum ; 

Says, Put on your hat, my Geordy. 

23 But out it speaks him gleid Argyle, 

Says, Woe be to your body ! 
I wish that Gight had lost his head, 

1 should enjoyd his lady. 

24 She looked oer her left shoulder, 

A proud look and a saucy ; 
Says, Woe be to you, gleid Argyle ! 
Ye '11 neer be like my Geordy. 

25 * You '11 hae me to some writer's house. 

And that baith seen and shortly, 
That I may write down Gight's lament, 
And how I borrowed Geordy.' 

26 When she was in her saddle set, 

And aye behind her Geordy, 
Birds neer sang blyther in the bush 
Than she behind her Geordy. 

27 ' bonny George, but I love thee well, 

And sae dear as I love thee ! 
The sun and moon and firmament above 
Bear witness hoiv I love thee ! ' 

28 ' O bonny Ann, but I love thee well. 

And but sae dear as I love thee ! 
The birds in the air, that fly together pair and 
pair, 
Bear witness, Ann, that I love thee ! ' 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, 1, 188. 

1 * First I was lady o Black Riggs, 

And then into Kincraigie ; 
Now I am the Lady o Gight, 
And my love he 's ca'd Geordie. 

2 ' I was the mistress o Pitfan, 

And madam o Kincraigie ; 
But now my name is Lady Anne, 
And I am Gight's own lady. 



3 * We courted in the woods o Gight, 

Where birks and flowrs spring bonny ; 
But pleasures I had never one. 
But sorrows thick and mony. 

4 * He never ownd me as his wife, 

Nor honourd me as his lady, 
But day by day he saddles the grey, 
And rides to Bignet's lady.' 

6 When Bignet he got word of that. 
That Gight lay wi his lady, 
He 's casten him in prison strong. 
To ly till lords were ready. 



136 



209. GEORDIB 



6 * Where will I get a little wee boy, 

That is baith true and steady, 
That will run on to bonny Gight, 
And bring to me my lady ? ' 

7 * O here am I, a little wee boy. 

That is baith true and steady, 

That will run to the yates o Gight, 

And bring to you your lady.' 

8 ' Ye '11 bid her saddle the grey, the grey, 

The brown rode neer so smartly ; 
Ye '11 bid her come to Edinbro town, 
A' for the life of Geordie.' 

9 The night was fair, the moon was clear. 

And he rode by Bevany, 
And stopped at the yates o Gight, 
Where leaves were thick and mony. 

10 The lady lookd oer castle-wa. 

And dear, but she was sorry ! 

* Here comes a page f rae Edinbro town ; 

A' is nae well wi Geordie. 

11 * What news, what news, my little boy ? 

Come tell me soon and shortly ; ' 

* Bad news, bad news, my lady,' he said, 

* They 're going to hang your Geordie.* 

12 * Ye '11 saddle to me the grey, the grey. 

The brown rade neer so smartly ; 
And I '11 awa to Edinbro town, 
Borrow the life o Geordie.' 

13 When she came near to Edinbro town, 

I wyte she didna tarry. 
But she has mounted her grey steed. 
And ridden the Queen's Ferry. 

14 When she came to the boat of Leith, 

I wat she didna tarry ; 
She gae the boatman a guinea o gowd 
To boat her ower the ferry. 

15 When she came to the pier o Leith, 

The poor they were sae many ; 
She dealt the gowd right liberallie, 
And bade them pray for Geordie, 

16 When she gaed up the tolbooth-stair. 

The nobles there were many : 



And ilka ane stood hat on head, 
But hat in hand stood Geordie. 

17 She gae a blink out-ower them a', 

And three blinks to her Geordie ; 
But when she saw his een fast bound, 
A swoon fell in this lady. 

18 * Whom has he robbd ? What has he stole ? 

Or has he killed ony? 
Or what 's the crime that he has done, 
His foes they are sae mony ? ' 

19 * He hasna brunt, he hasna slain. 

He hasna robbed ony ; 
But he has done another crime, 
For which he will pay dearly.' 

20 Then out it speaks Lord Montague, 

wae be to his body ! 

* The day we hangd young Charles Hay, 
The morn we '11 head your Geordie.' 

21 Then out it speaks the king himsell, 

Vow, but he spake bonny ! 
' Come here, young Gight, confess your sins, 
Let 's hear if they be mony. 

22 ' Come here, yoimg Gight, confess your sins, 

See ye be true and steady ; 
And if your sins they be but sma. 
Then ye 'se win wi your lady.' 

23 * Nane have I robbd, nought have I stown, 

Nor have I killed ony ; 
But ane o the king's best brave steeds, 

1 sold him in Bevany.' 



24 Then out it speaks the king again. 

Dear, but he spake bonny ! 

* That crime 's nae great ; for your lady's 

Put on your hat now, Geordie.' 

25 Then out it speaks Lord Montague, 

wae be to his body ! 

* There 's guilt appears in Gight's ain face, 

Ye '11 cross-examine Geordie.' 

26 ' Now since it all I must confess, 

My crimes' baith great and mony : 
A woman abused, five orphan babes, 

1 killd them for their money.' 



209. 6EOBDIE 



137 



S7 Out it speaks the king again, 
And dear, but he was sorry ! 

* Your confession brings confusion. 

Take aff your hat now, Geordie.* 

28 Then out it speaks the lady hersell, 

Vow, but she was sorry ! 

* Now all my life I '11 wear the black, 

Mourn for the death o Geordie.' 

29 Lord Huntly then he did speak out, 

fair mot fa his body ! 

* I there will fight doublet alane 

Or ony thing ails Geordie.' 

30 Then out it speaks the king again, 

Vow, but he spake bonny ! 

* If ye '11 tell down ten thousand crowns. 

Ye '11 buy the life o Geordie.' 

31 She spread her mantle on the ground. 

Dear, but she spread it bonny ! 
Some gae her crowns, some ducadoons, 

And some gae dollars mony : 
Then she tauld down ten thousand crowns, 

* Put on your hat, my Geordie.' 

32 Then out it speaks Lord Montague, 

Wae be to his body ! 
' I wisht that Gight wanted the head ; 

1 might enjoyd his lady.' 

33 Out it speaks the lady hersell, 

* Ye need neer wish my body ; 
O ill bef a your wizzend snout ! 

Woud ye compare wi Geordie ? * 

34 When she was in her saddle set, 

Riding the leys sae bonny, 



The fiddle and fleet playd neer sae sweet 
As she behind her Geordie. 

36 * O Geordie, Geordie, I love you well, 

Nae jealousie coud move me ; 

The birds in air, that fly in pairs, 

Can witness how I love you. 

36 * Ye '11 call for one, the best o clerks. 

Ye '11 call him soon and shortly. 
As he may write what I indite, 
A' this I 've done for Geordie.' 

37 He turned him right and round about, 

And high, high looked Geordie : 
* A finger o Signet's lady's hand 
Is worth a' your fair body.' 

38 * My lands may a' be masterless, 

My babes may want their mother ; 
But I 've made a vow, will keep it true, 
I '11 be bound to no other.' 

39 These words they causd a great dispute, 

And proud and fierce grew Geordie ; 
A sharp dagger he pulled out. 
And pierced the heart o 's lady. 

40 The lady 's dead, and Gight he 's fled. 

And left his lands behind him ; 
Altho they searched south and north, 
There were nane there coud find him. 

41 Now a' that lived into Black Riggs, 

And likewise in Kincraigie, 
For seven years were clad in black. 
To mourn for Gight's own lady. 



Motherwell's MS., p. 370, as sung by Agnes Lyle's father. 

1 * I HAVE eleven babes into the north, 
And the twelfth is in my body, O 
And the youngest o them 's in the nurse's arms. 
He neer yet saw his daddy.' O 



2 Some gied her ducks, some gied her drakes. 
And some gied her crowns monie. 
And she 's paid him down five thousand pound. 
And she 's gotten hame her Geordie. 



VOL. IV. 



18 



138 



300. GEOBDIE 



Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, 11, 186, 188; "from the 
recitation of Mrs Cunningham." 

1 And soon she came to the water broad, 
Nor boat nor barge was ready ; 
She turned her horse's head to the flood, 
And swam through at Queensferry. 



2 But when she to the presence came, 
'Mang earls high and lordlie, 
There hat on head sat every man, 
While hat in hand stood Geordie. 



M 



Motherwell's Note-Book, pp. 2, 1 ; from Miss Brown, sis- 
ter of Dr James Brown, of Glasgow. 

When he came out at the tolbooth-stair, 

He was baith red and rosy ; 
But gin he cam to the gallows-fit, 

He was wallourt like the lily. 



N 

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 20. 

I HAVE nine children in the west, 
The tenth ane 's in my bodie ; 

The eldest o them she never knew a man, 
And she knows not wha 's her daddy. 



A. 4^, 5'. menzie. 

B. a. 88, 9«, 192, 21«. &for an. 

13^ for struck out before Your. 

14*. O has been altered from K, and is not 

very distinct. 
25'. wi her ? 
25". Tell down, tell tell down. 

26. Or, She 's put her hand to her pocket, 
She 's pulld out ducats many. 
An she 's telld down, etc. 

27*. Var. she blessd. 

28''*. No indication that this is an imperfect 
stanza. The last line is nearly bound in, 
and not easy to read. 
30*. Gar print, etc. 
b. Variations written on the margin of a. 
1'. The Laird of Gigh has killd a man. 
2*. That will gae rin to the yates of Gigh. 
7^. Burntisland sands for the water-side. 
8^ the water-yate. 
8*. dealt the red gold them amang. 

14. 'T was up than spak a gentleman. 
Was ca'd the Laird of Logic, 
War Gighie's head but on the blo[ck]. 
If I had his fair ladie ! ' 



21*. the gude Argyle for a Scottish lord. 
21'. He 's been a friend to many. 

C. a. "This song was taken down from a Miss 

Christy Robertson, Dunse, who sung it to a 
very pretty old tune. Being an old maid 
herself, she did not let it want any of the 
original plainture which I suppose the origi- 
nal air would have." 

The MS. of Thomas Wilkie is inscribed, at 
the beginning, Gattonside, 4th Sept., 1813 ; 
at the end, Bowden, 2d Sept., 1816. 

6*. goud written over guineas. 

8*''. Var. BIX for ten, seventh /or eleventh. 

10*. a kind-hearted man, wanting in b, has 
evidently been supplied. 

12^''. Supplied : originally only A man spoke 
loud. 

12*. Geordie's written over his ; were over had 
been. 
b. 2'. shirt. 4'. And they saddled to her. 

6*. red goud. 7\ When she. 9*. Geight. 

10*. a kind-hearted man wanting. 

12*''. A man spoke loud. 

13*. my wanting. 

14'. And herself. 

D. 2'. goud and money substituted for hose and 

shoon struck out. 
9'. they struck out before was. 



/ 



I 

\ 

/ 



209. GEOBDIE 



139 



} 



r 



18*"'. Written in two lines. 

E. b. No account is given of the variations of the 

printed copy from the manuscript, hut it is 
presumed that the larger ones were tradi- 
tional. 

1'. And monie ane got broken heads. 

2\ she gaed. 2*. To pray. 3^ into. 

3^ And ilka ane. 

After 3 : 

Up bespak a Norlan lord, 

I wat he spak na bonnie ; 
* If ye '11 stay here a little while, 

Ye '11 see Geordie hangit shortly.' 

4*. Then up bespak. 

4*'*. If ye '11 pay doun five hundred crowns, 

Ye 'se get your true-love Geordie. 
After 4 : 

Some lent her guineas, some lent her crowns, 

Some lent her shillings monie, 
And she 's paid doun five hundred crowns, 

And she 's gotten her bonnie love Geordie. 

5^. hie steed. 6^ ahint. 
Burden, first line : My Geordie O, my Geordie O. 

F. " Sung to a tune something similar to ' My 

Nannie O.' " 

10". 10000. 123. 5000. 

G. 88, 9". 500. 

10*. breeks is a corruption, for bouks, A 14'. 
I. a. 10*. crowns like duke o Downs : cf b 21', 

G31». 
12*. gars your. 
b. 1^. I was courted a wife in the bonny woods 

of Fife. 
1^. and flowers. 

1*. And pleasures I 've had never nane. 
1*. I 've had mony. 

2^. was lady of bonny Pitfauns. 2*. Then. 
2'. is Lady. 

2^ I 'm even. 3^ He never owns me. 
3*. Nor loves me. 3*. But every day. 
3*. rides to Pilbagnet's. 
4^. Pilbagnet he 's. 
4^^. has lien wi. 

4'. And he 's put him in prison Strang. 
4*. Wanting. 

5'. That will rin on to Ythan side. 
5*. Wi letters. 

6. Now here am I, a bonny boy, 
"Will rin your errand shortly, 



That will rin on to Ythan side 
Wi letters to your ladye. 



7^ But when she looked the letter on. 

7*. But ere : to an. 7*. tears fell. 

8^ Ye '11 saddle: said. 

8^ Tho the brown should ride never so bonny. 

8«. I '11 go on to. 

8*. To see how they 're using my. 

9. As she rode down by the pier of Leith, 

The poor met her never so mony. 
And she dealt the red gold right liberally. 
And bade them pray well for her Geordie. 

10. As she rode down by Edinbro town, 

The poor met her never so mony. 
And she dealt the red gold right liberallie, 
And bade them pray weel for her Geor- 
die. 

After 10: 

The king looked ower his castle-wa, 

And he spak seen and shortly ; 
' Now who is this,' said our liege the king, 
' Deals the red gold sae largely ? ' 

Then up bespak a bonny boy, 
Was richt nigh to her Geordie ; 

' I '11 wager my life and a' my Ian 
That it is Gicht's own ladye.' 

11^. Then she went down the toolbooth-stair. 
11". all the nobles so. 
11'. And every one had his hat on. 
12-20. Wanting. 

21. Then she went down the toolbooth-stair. 
Among all the nobles so many ; 
Some gave her guineas, some gave her 
crowns, 
Some gave her dukedoons many. 
And she has paid down the jailor's fee, 
And now she enjoys her Geordie. 

22-26. Wanting. 

27. ' bonnie George, I love you weel ! 
dear George, as I love you ! 
The sun and the moon, go together roun 
and roun. 
Bear witness, dear George, how I love 



you 



t' 



140 



209. GEOBDIE 



28. ' O bonnie Anne, I love you weel ! 
Oh dear Anne, how I love you ! 
The birds of the air, fly together pair and 
pair, 
Bear witness, dear Anne, how I love 
you!' 

J. 13*. the queen's berry. 

26'. crimes. / suppose crimes is to be meant. 



" Of the preceding ballad [P], Agnes Lile says 
she has heard her father .sing a different set, 
all of which she forgets except this, that 
there was nothing said of ' a bold bluidy 
wretch,' and in place of what is given to him 
in this version [F 10, 11], there were the 
two following stanzas." MotherwelVs MS., 
p.SlOf. 

2». 5000. 



APPENDIX 



y- 



' " A lamentable new ditty, made upon the death 
of a worthy gentleman named George Stoole, dwell- 
ing sometime on Gate-side Moore, and sometime 
at New-Castle in Northumberland : with his peni- 
tent end. To a delicate Scottish tune." Roxburghe 
Collection, I, 186, 187. Roxburghe Ballads, ed. 
\ti. W. Chappell, I, 576. Previously printed by [Rit- 
' M son], Northumberland Garland, Newcastle, 1793, 
.»> p. 33 (p. 43 of Haslewood's reprint, London, 1809), 
and in Bell's Rhymes of Northern Bards, p. 162. 

1 Come, you lusty northerne lads, 
That are so blith and bonny, 

Prepare your hearts to be full sad, 
To hear the end of Georgey. 

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bon[n]y love, 

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny ! 
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my owne deare love, 
And God be with my Georgie 1 

2 When Georgie to his triall came, 
A thousand hearts were sorry ; 

A thousand lasses wept full sore, 
And all for love of Georgy. 

8 Some did say he would escape, 
Some at his fall did glory ; 
But these were clownes and fickle friends, 
And none that loved Georgy. 

4 Might friends have satisfide the law. 
Then Georgie would find many ; 

Yet bravely did he plead for life. 
If mercy might be any. 

5 But when this doughty carle was cast, 
He was full sad and sorry ; 

Yet boldly did he take his death, 
So patiently dyde Georgie. 

6 As Georgie went up to the gate, 
He tooke his leave of many ; 



He tooke his leave of his lard's wife. 
Whom he lovd best of any. 

7 With thousand sighs and heavy lookes, 

Away from thence he parted 
Where he so often blith had beene. 
Though now so heavy-hearted. 

8 He writ a letter with his owne hand, 

He thought he writ it bravely ; 
He sent to New-castle towne, 
To his beloved lady. 

9 Wherein he did at large bewaile 

The occasion of his folly, 

Bequeathing life unto the law. 

His soule to heaven holy. 

10 ' Why, lady, leave to weepe for me ! 

Let not my ending grieve ye ! 
Prove constant to the man you love, 
For I cannot releeve ye. 

11 ' Out upon the, Withrington 1 

And fie upon the. Phoenix ! 
Thou hast put downe the doughty one 
That stole the sheepe from Anix. 

12 ' And fie on all such cruell carles 

Whose crueltie 's so fickle 
To cast away a gentleman, 
In hatred, for so little! 

IS • I would I were on yonder hill, 
Where I have beene full merry, 
My sword and buckeler by my side. 
To fight till I be weary. 

14 ' They well should know, that tooke me first. 

Though hopes be now forsaken, 
Had I but freedome, armes, and health, 
I 'de dye ere I 'de be taken. 

15 ♦ But law condemns me to my grave. 

They have me in their power ; 
Ther 's none but Christ that can mee save 
At this my dying houre.' 



209. 6EOBDIE 



141 



16 He calld his dearest love to him, 

When as his heart was sorry, 
And speaking thus, with manly heart, 
'Deare sweeting, pray for Georgie.* 

17 He gave to her a piece of gold, 

And bade her give 't her barnes, 
And oft he kist her rosie lips, 
And laid him into her armes. 

18 And comming to the place of death, 

He never changed colour ; 
The more they thought he would looke pale, 
The more his veines were fuller. 

19 And with a cheerefuU countenance, 

Being at that time entreated 
For to confesse his former life, 
These words he straight repeated. 

! 20 'I never stole no oxe nor cow, 

^ Nor never murdered any ; 
' But fifty horse I did receive 

Of a merchant's man of Gory. 

21 • For which I am condemnd to dye. 

Though guiltlesse I stand dying ; 
Deare gracious God, my soule receive I 
For now my life is flying.* 

22 The man of death a part did act 

Which grieves mee tell the story ; 
God comfort all are comfortlesse. 
And did[e] so well as Georgie I 
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny love, 
Heigh-ho, heigh[-ho], my bonny, 
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, mine own true love, 
Sweet Christ receive my Greorgie I 

1. Burden to st. 1 : honny in the second line. 
10*. the ney. 14^. whoops. 14*. dye are. 

/ " The Life and Death of George of Oxford. To 
K / a pleasant tune, called Poor Georgy." Roxburghe 
i Collection, TV, 53, Pepys, II, 150, Jersey, I, 86, 
\ Huth, I, 150, according to Mr J. W. Ebsworth, 
\ Roxburghe Ballads, VII, 70, 1890. It v\ras printed 
/ for P. Brooksby, whose time Mr Ebsworth gives as 
\ between 1671 and 1692. 

As I went over London Bridge, 

All in a misty morning. 
There did I see one weep and mourn, 
Lamenting for her Georgy. 

His time it is past, his life it will not last. 

Alack and alas, there is no remedy! 
Which makes the heart within me ready to 
burst in three. 
To think on the death of poor Georgy. 



2 ' George of Oxford is my name. 

And few there 's but have known me ; 
Many a mad prank have I playd, 
But now they 've overthrown me.' 

3 O then bespake the Lady Gray ; 

*I 'le haste me in the morning, 
And to the judge I 'le make my way, 
To save the life of Georgy. 

4 ' Go saddle me my milk-white steed, 

Go saddle me my bonny. 
That I may to New-Castle speed, 
To save the life of Greorgy.' 

5 But when she came the judge before, 

Full low her knee she bended ; 

For Georgy's life she did implore. 

That she might be befriended. 

6 ' O rise, O rise, fair Lady Gray, 
Your suit cannot be granted ; 

Content your self as well you may, 
For Georgy must be hanged.' 

7 She wept, she waild, she [w]rung her hands, 

And ceased not her mourning ; 
She ofEerd gold, she offerd lands, 
To save the life of Georgy. 

8 ' I have travelld through the land, 

And met with many a man, sir. 
But, knight or lord, I bid him stand ; 
He durst not make an answer. 

9 « The Brittain bold that durst deny 

His money for to tender, 
Though he were stout as valiant Guy, 
I forced him to surrender. 

10 ' But when the money I had got, 

And made him cry peccavi, 
To bear his charge and pay his shot, 
A mark or noble gave I. 

11 « The ladies, when they had me seen, 

Would ner have been affrighted ; 
To take a dance upon the green 
With Georgy they delighted. 

12 • When I had ended this our wake. 

And fairly them bespoken, 
Their rings and jewels would I take, 
To keep them for a token.' 

13 The hue-and-cry for George is set, 

A proper handsome fellow, 
With diamond eyes as black as jet. 
And locks like gold so yellow. 



142 



210. BONNIE JAMBS CAMPBELL 



14 Long it was, with all their art, 

Ere they could apprehend him, 
But at the last his valiant heart 
No longer could defend him. 

15 ' I ner stole horse nor mare in my life, 

Nor cloven foot, or any, 
But once, sir, of the king's white steeds, 
And I sold them to Bohemia.' 



[ 16 Georgy he went up the hill. 
And after followed many ; 
Georgy was hanged in silken string, 
The like was never any. 

The burden (here given with only the first stanza) is 
from time to time varied. 

81, 61. Oh. After 7. Greorge's Confession. 



210 
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL 



A. Herd's MSS, I, 40, II, 184. 

B. Finlay's Scottish Ballads, 1808, 1, xxxiii. 



C. ' Bonnie George Campbell,' Smith's Scotish Min- 
strel, V, 42. 

D. Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, III, 2. 



A WAS copied by Sir Walter Scott (with 
slight variations) into a MS. at Abbotsford, 
'Scottish Songs,' fol. 68 (1795-1806). The 
first half is printed from notes of Scott in 
Laing's edition of Sharpe's Ballad Book, pp. 
143, 156 f, and to these two stanzas, nearly 
as here printed, there are added in the second 
case, p. 157, the following verses, which are 
evidently modern, with the exception of the 
last: 
His hawk and his hounds they are wandered and 

gane, 
His lady sits dowie and weary her lane, 
His bairns wi greetin hae blinded their een, 
His croft is unshorn, and his meadow grows green. 

Scott subjoins, "I never heard more of this." 
He was familiar with Herd's MSS. 

C, like many things in the Scotish Minstrel, 
has passed through editorial hands, whence 
the 'never return' of st. 4, and 'A plume in 
his helmet, a sword at his knee,' st. 5. This 
copy furnished the starting point for Allan 
Cunningham, III, 1, who, however, substitutes 
Finlay's 'wife' for the Minstrel's 'bryde,' and 
presents her with three bairns. 

Motherwell made up his 'Bonnie George 



Campbell' (Minstrelsy, p. 44) from B, 0, D. 
In a manuscript copied out by a granddaughter 
of Lord Woodhouselee (1840-50), D is com- 
bined with Cunningham's ballad. 

Motherwell says that this ballad " is prob- 
ably a lament for one of the adherents of the 
house of Argyle who fell in the battle of 
Glenlivet, stricken on Thursday, the third day 
of October, 1594." Sir Robert Gordon ob- 
serves that Argyle lost in this battle his two 
cousins, Archibald and James Campbell: Gen- 
ealogical History of Sutherland, p. 229. Maid- 
ment, Scotish Ballads, 1868, T, 240, chooses to 
think that " there can be little doubt " that 
the ballad refers to the murder of Sir John 
Campbell of Calder by one of his own sur- 
name, in 1591, and alters the title accord- 
ingly to ' Bonnie John Campbell.' Mother- 
well has at least a name to favor his suppo- 
sition. But Campbells enow were killed, in 
battle or feud, before and after 1590, to for- 
bid a guess as to an individual James or George 
grounded upon the slight data afforded by the 
ballad. 

Motherwell's ballad is translated by Wolff, 
Halle der Volker, I, 79, Hausschatz, p. 226. 



210. BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL 



143 



Herd's MSS, I, 40, II, 184. 

1 it 's up in the Highlands, 

and along the sweet Tay, 
Did bonie James Campbell 
ride monie a day. 

2 Sadled and bridled, 

and bonie rode he ; 
Hame came horse, hame came sadle, 
but neer hame cam he. 



3 And doun cam his sweet sisters, 

greeting sae sair. 
And down cam his bonie wife, 
tearing her hair. 

4 * My house is unbigged, 

my barn 's unbeen, 
My corn 's unshorn, 

my meadow grows green.* 



B 

rinlay's Scottish Ballads, 1808, 1, xxxiiL 

1 Saddled and briddled 

and booted rade he ; 
Toom hame cam the saddle, 
but never cam he. 

2 Down cam his auld mither, 

greetin fu sair, 



And down cam his bonny wife, 
wringin her hair. 

3 Saddled and briddled 
and booted rade he ; 
Toom hame dam the saddle, 
but never cam he. 



Smith's Scotish Minstrel, V, 42. 

1 Hie upon Hielands, 

and laigh upon Tay, 
Bonnie George Campbell 
rode out on a day. 

2 He saddled, he bridled, 

and gallant rode he. 
And hame cam his guid horse, 
but never cam he. 

3 Out cam his mother dear, 

greeting fu sair. 
And out cam his bonnie bryde, 
riving her hair. 



4 ' The meadow lies green, 
the corn is unshorn, 
But bonnie George Campbell 
will never return.' 

6 Saddled and bridled 
and booted rode he, 
A plume in his helmet, 
a sword at his knee. 

6 But toom cam his saddle, 
all bloody to see. 
Oh, hame cam his guid horse, 
bat never cam he ! 



144 



211. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, III, 2, communicated 
by Mr Yellowlees. 

1 High upon Highlands, 
and low upon Tay, 



Bonnie George Campbell 
rode out on a day. 

2 * My meadow lies green, 
and my corn is unshorn, 
My barn is to build, 
and my babe is unborn. 



A is written, and printed, in stanzas of four 

long lines. 
A. 1^ Sharpe, 143, O wanting. 

1\ Scottish Songs and Sharpe, and wanting. 



2\ Scottish Songs, and gallant, as in O. 

2*. Sharpe, but hame cam na he. 

4*. Scottish Songs, meadows grow green. 



211 

BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



a. * The Song of Bewick and Grahame,' a stall-copy, 
in octavo, British Museum, 11621. e. 1. (4.) b. ' A 
Hemarkable and Memorable Song of Sir Robert Be- 
wick and the Laird Graham,' broadside, Roxburghe 
Ballads, III, 624. c. * A Remarkable and Memora- 
ble Song of Sir Robert Bewick and the Laird Gra- 
ham,' broadside, Percy papers, d. 'Bewick and 
Graham's Garland,' M. Angus and Son, Newcastle, 



Bell Ballads, Abbotsford Library, P. 5, vol. i. No 60. 
e. Broadside, in " A Jolly Book of Garlands collected 
by John Bell in Newcastle," No 29, Abbotsford Li- 
brary, E. 1. f. 'Bewick and Graham,' chapbook, 
Newcastle, W. Fordyce. g. " Scotch Ballads, Mate- 
rials for Border Minstrelsy," No 145, Abbotsford. 
h. ' Chirstie Graeme,' the same, No 89. 



No copy of this ballad earlier than the last 
century is known to me. The Museum Cata- 
logue gives a conjectural date of 1740 to a 
> and of 1720 to b, and, conjecturally again, as- 
signs both to Newcastle, o, d, e are also with- 
out date, o may be as old as b ; d, e are at 
least not old, and f is of this century. The 
ballad was given under the title ' Graeme and 
Bewick,' in Scott's Minstrelsy, 1803, III, 93, 
" from the recitation of a gentleman " who re- 
membered it but imperfectly. In a succeed- 
ing edition, III, 66, 1833, deficiencies were 
partly supplied and some different readings 
adopted " from a copy obtained by the recita- 
tion of an ostler in Carlisle." The first copy 
(entitled * Chirstie Graeme') was sent Scott 



by William Laidlaw, January 3, 1803 (Let- 
ters, vol. i. No 78), as taken down by him 
from the singing of Mr Walter Grieve, in 
Craik, on Borthwick Water. It is preserved 
in " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Min- 
strelsy," No 89, Abbotsford (h) ; and in the 
same volume. No 145, is what is shown by 
internal evidence to be the ostler's copy (g). 
Both copies were indisputably derived from 
print, though h may have passed through sev- 
eral mouths, g agrees with b-f closely as to 
minute points of phraseology which it is diflS- 
cult to believe that a reciter would have re- 
tained. It looks more like an immediate, 
though faulty, transcript from print. Of 
many deviations, though most may be charge- 



211. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



146 



able to a bad copyist, or, if one pleases, a bad 
memory, others indicate an original which dif- 
fered in some particulars from b-f ; and the 
same may perhaps be true of h, which is, how- 
ever, of only very trifling value.* 

' The Brothers-in-Arms,' Maidment, Scotish 
Ballads and Songs, 1868, II, 160, is Scott's 
later copy. 

Old Graham and old Bewick are drinking 
together at Carlisle. Graham proposes the 
health of their respective sons. Bewick de- 
murs. Young Graham is no peer for young 
Bewick, who is good at both books and arms, 
whereas Graham is no scholar. Old Graham 
goes home mortified and angry, repeats to his 
son Christy what Bewick had said, and bids 
him, as he would have his blessing, prove that 
he can at least hold his own in a fight with 
young Bewick. Christy is ' faith and troth,' 
or sworn-brother, to young Bewick, and begs his 
father to forbear. The father insists; Christy 
may make his choice, to fight with young Be- 
wick or with himself. Christy, upon reflec- 
tion, concludes that it would be a less crime to 
kill his sworn-brother than to kill his father, 
but swears that, should it be his lot to kill his 
friend, he will never come home alive. He 
arms himself and goes to seek his comrade. 
Bewick, who has been teaching his five schol- 
ars their fence, and apparently also their 
psalms, is walking in his father's close, with 
his sword under his arm, and sees a man 
in armor riding towards him. Recognizing 
Graham, he welcomes him affectionately. 
Graham informs him that he has come to 
fight with him, rehearses the scene with old 
Graham, and puts by all his friend's remon- 
strances and the suggestion that the fathers 
may be reconciled through arbitrators. Forced 
to fight, Bewick vows, as Graham had done, 
that, if it be his fortune to kill his brother, he 
will never go home alive. Graham throws off 



his armor that he may have no advantage ; 
they fight two hours with no result, and then 
Graham gives Bewick one of those ' ackward ' 
strokes which have determined several duels 
in foregoing ballads. The wound is deadly ; 
Bewick intreats Graham to fly th,e country ; 
Graham swears that his vow shall be kept, 
leaps on his sword and is the first to die. Old 
Bewick comes up and is disposed to congrat- 
ulate his son on his victory. Young Bewick 
begs him to make one grave for both, and to 
lay young Graham on the sunny side, for he 
had been the better man. The two fathers 
indulge in exclamations of grief. 

I am persuaded that there was an older and / 
better copy of this ballad than those which 
are extant. The story is so well composed, 
proportion is so well kept, on the whole, that 
it is reasonable to suppose that certain pas- 
sages (as stanzas 3, 4, 50) may have suffered . 
some injury. There are also phrases which ' 
are not up to the mark of the general style, 
as the hack-rhymester lines at 7^, 19^. But 
it is a fine-spirited ballad as it stands, and 
very infectious. 

" The ballad is remarkable," observes Sir 
Walter Scott, "as containing probably the 
very latest allusion to the institution of brother- 
hood in arms." And he goes on to say : " The 
quarrel of the two old chieftains over their 
wine is highly in character. Two generations 
have not elapsed [1803] since the custom of 
drinking deep and taking deadly revenge for 
slight offences produced very tragical events 
on the border ; to which the custom of going 
armed to festive meetings contributed not a 
little." 

Scott's later edition is translated by Lo^ve- 
Veimars, p. 323 ; by Rosa Warrens, Schot- 
tische Volkslieder der Vorzeit, p. 99, No 22. 



* Somebody, perhaps J., the editor of The Common-Place 
Book of Ancient and Modern Ballad, etc., Edinburgh, 1824, 
attempted an improvement of the later edition of Scott's 
ballad. The recension was used by Loere-Veimars for his 



translation, and is given in his Popular Ballads and Songs 
from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Scarce Editions, Paris, 
1825, p. 71. This copy, with variations, is found in the 
Campbell MSS, I, 348. The alterations axe mostly trivial. 



19 



146 



ail. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



1 Old Grahame [he] is to Carlisle gone, 

Where Sir Robert Bewick there met he ; 
In arms to the wine they are gone, 
And drank till they were both merry. 

2 Old Grahame he took up the cup, 

And said, ' Brother Bewick, here 's to thee ; 
And here 's to our two sons at home, 
For they live best in our country.' 

3 * Nay, were thy son as good as mine, 

And of some books he could but read. 
With sword and buckler by his side. 
To see how he could save his head, 

4 * They might have been caUd two bold breth- 

ren 
Where ever they did go or ride ; 
They might [have] been calld two bold 

brethren, 
They might have crackd the Border-side. 

5 ' Thy son is bad, and is but a lad. 

And bully to my son cannot be ; * 
For my son Bewick can both write and read. 
And sure I am that cannot he.' 

6 * I put him to school, but he would not learn, 

I bought him books, but he would not read ; 
But my blessing he 's never have 

Till I see how his hand can save his head.' 

7 Old Grahame called for an account. 

And he askd what was for to pay ; 
There he paid a crown, so it went round. 
Which was all for good wine and hay. 

8 Old Grahame is into the stable gone. 

Where stood thirty good steeds and three ; 
He 's taken his own steed by the head. 
And home rode he right wantonly. 

9 When he came home, there did he espy, 

A loving sight to spy or see. 
There did he espy his own three sons. 

Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was 
he. 

10 There did he espy his own three sons. 

Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was 
he: 
* Where have you been all day, father. 
That no counsel you would take by me?' 



11 * Nay, I have been in Carlisle town. 

Where Sir Robert Bewick there met me ; 
He said thou was bad, and calld thee a lad, 
And a baffled man by thou I be. 

12 * He said thou was bad, and calld thee a lad. 

And bully to his son cannot be ; 
For his son Bewick can both write and read. 
And sure I am that cannot thee. 

13 ' I put thee to school, but thou would not learn, 

I bought thee books, but thou would not read ; 
But my blessing thou 's never have 

Till I see with Bewick thou can save thy 
head.' 

14 ' Oh, pray forbear, my father dear ; 

That ever such a thing should be ! 
Shall I venture my body in field to fight 
With a man that 's faith and troth to me ? * 

15 ^ What 's that thou sayst, thou limmer loon ? 

Or how dare thou stand to speak to me.'' 
If thou do not end this quarrel soon. 
Here is my glove thou shalt fight me.' 

16 Christy stoopd low unto the ground, 

Unto the ground, as you '11 understand : 
* father, put on your glove again, 

The wind hath blown it from your hand.' 

17 ' What 's that thou sayst, thou limmer loon ? 

Or how dare thou stand to speak to me ? 
If thou do not end this quarrel soon. 
Here is my hand thou shalt fight me.' 

18 Christy Grahame is to his chamber gonej 

And for to study, as well might be, 
Whether to fight with his father dear, 
Or with his bully Bewick he. 

19 ' If it be [my] fortune my bully to kill. 

As you shall boldly understand. 
In every town that I ride through, 

They '11 say, There rides a brotherless man ! 

20 * Nay, for to kill my bully dear, 

I think it will be a deadly sin ; 
And for to kill my father dear, 

The blessing of heaven I near shall win. 

21 ' O give me your blessing, father,' he said, 

* And pray well for me for to thrive ; 



211. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



147 



If it be my fortune my bully to kill, 
I swear I '11 neer come home alive.' 

22 He put on his back a good plate-jack, 

And on his head a cap of steel, 
With sword and buckler by his side ; 

gin he did not become them well I 

23 ' fare thee well, my father dear ! 

And fare thee well, thou Carlisle town ! 
If it be my fortune my bully to kill, 

1 swear I '11 neer eat bread again.' 

24 Now we '11 leave talking of Christy Grahame, 

And talk of him again belive ; 
But we will talk of bonny Bewick, 

Where he was teaching his scholars five. 

26 Now when he had learnd them well to fence, 
To handle their swords without any doubt, 
He 's taken his own sword under his arm. 
And walkd his father's close about. 

26 He lookd between him and the sun, 

To see what farleys he coud see ; 
There he spy'd a man with armour on. 
As he came riding over the lee. 

27 ' I wonder much what man yon be 

That so boldly this way does come ; 
I think it is my nighest friend, 
I think it is my bully Grahame. 

28 ' welcome, welcome, bully Grahame ! 

man, thou art my dear, welcome ! 

man, thou art my dear, welcome ! 
For I love thee best in Christendom.* 

29 ' Away, away, bully Bewick, 

And of thy buUyship let me be ! 
The day is come I never thought on ; 
Bully, I 'm come here to fight with thee.' 

30 ' no ! not so, bully Grahame ! 

That eer such a word should spoken be ! 

1 was thy master, thou was my scholar : 

So well as I have learned thee.' 

31 * My father he was in Carlisle town, 

Where thy father Bewick there met he ; 
He said I was bad, and he calld me a lad. 
And a baffled man by thou I be.' 



32 ' Away, away, O bully Grahame, 

And of all that talk, man, let us be ! 
We 'U take three men of either side 
To see if we can our fathers agree.* 

33 * Away, away, O bully Bewick, 

And of thy bullyship let me be ! 
But if thou be a man, as I trow thou art, 
Come over this ditch and fight with me.' 

34 * no ! not so, my bully Grahame ! 

That eer such a word should spoken be ! 
Shall I venture my body in field to fight 
With a man that 's faith and troth to me ? ' 

35 ' Away, away, bully Bewick, 

And of all that care, man, let us be ! 
If thou be a man, as I trow thou art. 
Come over this ditch and fight with me.' 

36 ' Now, if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to 

kill, 
As God's will 's, man, it all must be ; 
But if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, 
'T is home again I '11 never gae.' 

37 ' Thou art of my mind then, bully Bewick, 

And sworn-brethren will we be ; 
If thou be a man, as I trow thou art. 
Come over this ditch and fight with me.' 

38 He flang his cloak from [ofE] his shoulders. 

His psalm-book out of his hand flang he, 
He clapd his hand upon the hedge. 
And oer lap he right wantonly. 

39 When Grahame did see his bully come, 

The salt tear stood long in his eye : 
* Now needs must I say that thou art a man. 
That dare venture thy body to fight with me. 

40 ' Now I have a harness on my back ; 

I know that thou hath none on thine ; 
But as little as thou hath on thy back. 
Sure as Httle shall there be on mine.' 

41 He flang his jack from off his back. 

His steel cap from his head flang he ; 
He 's taken his sword into his hand, 
He 's tyed his horse unto a tree. 

42 Now they fell to it with two broa[d swords], 

For two long hours fought Bewick [and he] ; 



148 



211. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



Much sweat was to be seen on them both, 
But never a drop of blood to see. 

43 Now Grahame gave Bewick an ackward stroke, 

An ackward stroke surely struck he ; 
He struck him now under the left breast, 
Then down to the ground as dead fell he. 

44 ' Arise, arise, bully Bewick, 

Arise, and speak three words to me ! 
Whether this be thy deadly wound. 

Or God and good surgeons will mend thee.' 

45 * horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, 

And pray do get thee far from me ! 
Thy sword is sharp, it hath wounded my heart, 
And so no further can I gae. 

46 * horse, horse, bully Grahame, 

And get thee far from me with speed ! 
And get thee out of this country quite ! 

That none may know who 's done the deed.' 

47 * O if this be true, my bully dear. 

The words that thou dost tell to me. 
The vow I made, and the vow I '11 keep ; 
I swear I '11 be the first that die. 

48 Then he stuck his sword in a moody-hill, 

Where he lap thirty good foot and three ; 
First he bequeathed his soul to God, 
And upon his own sword-point lap he. 

49 Now Grahame he was the first that died, 

And then came Robin Bewick to see ; 
* Arise, arise, O son ! ' he said, 
* For I see thou 's won the victory. 



50 ' Arise, arise, O son ! ' he said, 

' For I see thou 's won the victory : ' 
' [Father, co]uld ye not drunk your wine at 
home, 
[And le]tten me and my brother be? 

51 ' Nay, dig a grave both low and wide, 

And in it us two pray bury ; 
But bury my buUy Grahame on the sun-side, 
For I 'm sure he 's won the victory.' 

52 Now we '11 leave talking of these two brethren. 

In Carlisle town where they lie slain, 
And talk of these two good old men. 

Where they were making a pitiful moan. 

53 With that bespoke now Robin Bewick : 

' O man, was I not much to blame ? 
I have lost one of the liveliest lads 
That ever was bred unto my name.' 

54 With that bespoke my good lord Grahame : 

' O man, I have lost the better block ; 
I have lost my comfort and my joy, 

I have lost my key, I have lost my lock. 

56 * Had I gone through all Ladderdale, 
And forty horse had set on me, 
Had Christy Grahame been at my back, 
So well as he woud guarded me.' 

56 I have no more of my song to sing, 

But two or three words to you I '11 name ; 
But 't will be talk'd in Carlisle town 

That these two [old] men were all the blame. 



a. The Song of Bewick and Grahame : contain- 
ing an account how the Lord Grahame met 
with Sir Robert Bewick in the town of 
Carlisle, and, going to the tavern, a dispute 
happened betwixt them which of their sons 
was the better man ; how Grahame rode 
away in a passion, and, meeting with his 
son, persuaded him to go and fight young 
Bewick, which he did accordingly ; and how 
it prov'd both their deaths. 

Licensd and enterd according to order. 



2*. love, b — g have live ; h, like us. 
11*. thou. Cf. 31*. 13*. you can. 
IS'*, might he. 

25\ 36S 40\ 42S 43\ A9\ Nay /or Now. 
37^. art in mind then. 

b, C, e, f . art then of my mind. 
40*-*. of for on. 41*. spear for sword : 

so b— f, but g, k, sword. 
42^'"^, 50^'*. The top corner is torn off : cf. b — f. 
b — f. A remarkable and memorable Song [f, 

Remarkable and memorable History] of 



211. BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



149 



Sir Robert Bewict and the Laird Graham, 
giving an account of Laird Graham's meet- 
ing with Sir Robert Bewick in the town of 
Carlisle, and, they going to a tavern, a dis- 
pute happened betwixt them which of their 
sons was the best man. How Graham rode 
home in a passion, and caused his son to 
fight young Bewick, which proved their 
deaths. 

1^. b, o, d, e. he is. f. he has. 

1*. b. drink. 2\ d. he wanting. 

2*. live best. 3^ b. safe. 4^. do go. 

4*. might have. 5\ he is. 5'-*. Wanting 

6*. how he can. 7^. he calld. 

1\ what there was to. 

7*. b, d. e, f. good wanting. 8^. is to. 

9^. came there he did. 9'. d. spy. 

10^'^ Wanting. 10*. you '11 take. 11^ been at. 

11*'*. d. Wanting, 

11'. f. wast. b. calld thou. e. he called. 

11*. b. a wanting, b, c, e, f. by thee. 

12K d, f. wast. e. he called. 

12*. b, c, d, e. cannot be. 

13^. b, d, f. wouldst. 

13^. b, d, e, f. wouldst. IS', e. blessings. 

13*. d, e. see if with, b, d, e, f. thou canst. 

14'. d. in a. 

15^. d. you say, you. e. thou says. 

lb\ d, e, f. dare you. 16^ d, e. Christy he. 

17^. dare you. f. Or wanting. 17'. If you. 

18^. might be. c. for no study, wrongly. 

19^ be my. 19^ d. town as. 

20 ^ my brother. 20^ it were. 

20*. d. blessings. 21^. me then to. 

21*. b, d, e, f. I shall, b-f. never. 

22^ good old. b, d, e, f. jacket, o. jack. 

22*. weel. 23^ b. O fare the torn away. 
d. weel. 23*^. b. And fa torn away. 

23*. c, d. e. I '11 swear. 

24^. leave off. d, e, f. we leave. 

242. b, c, f. of them. 

25^ b, d, e, f. Now, c. Nay. 
b — f. learned : well wanting. 

25'. own wanting. 

26\ b, c. between them. 

26'. b, c, d, e. espy'd. f. And espied. 

272. doth. 27'. b. is wanting. 

28\ my bully. 

29'. b, c, e, f . come that I neer. d. come neer. 

29*. b, c, d, e. come hither. 30^ d. my bully. 

30'. b, d, e, f. and thou wast. c. and thou 
was. 

30*. b, o, d. as wanting, b. have wanting. 



31'. d, e, f. he wanting. 31*. d. a wanting. 

t. by you. 
32^. all wanting. 
32'. on either, b, c. make. 
33', 35', 37'. b, c, e. I true. 
33'. d. thou be. 34'. d. in a. 
34*. b. truth. 35^ thou /or O. 
35^ all that wanting. 
S6K h, o, d, e. Nay. f. Now. 
36^ will, b, c. almost. 
36'. f. But wanting. 36*. d. I'd. 
37^. b, c, e, f. art then of my mind. d. then 

wanting. 
372. d, e, f. we will. 
38\ from off. d. flung, b. shoulder. 
38^. b, c, d, e. book from off (d, from) his 

shoulders. 
39^. tears. 39'. that wanting. 40^. Nay. 
40^. none on. f. hast. 40'. C, d, f. hast. 
40*. be on. f. Sure wanting. 41^. jacket. 
41 '^. b, o, d, e. from off. f. cap of steel. 
41'. his spear. 42^ b, d, e, f. Now. c. Nay. 

b — f. broad swords. 
422. and he. 43^ b, d, e, f. Now. c. Nay. 
43'. f. now wanting. 
44'. d, e. Were this to be. 
45'. b, c, f. it is. d. has wounded. 
46*. That not one. 47^ Oh. 47=^. b, d, e. doth. 
47*. d, e, f. first to. 
48^ b, o. struck, b— f. mould hill. 
481 b, o, d, e. Then he leapd. f. And he 

leapt, b — f. feet. 
48*. sword leapd he. 
49^ b, d, e, f. Now. c. Nay. 
49^^. then Robert (d, e, f, Sir Robert) Bewick 

came. c. see wanting. 
50^-2. d, f. Wanting. 
50'. b, o, d, e. Father, could you not drink. 

f. could not you drink. 
60*. And letten : my bully. 51^ f. Now. 
52^. leave of, off : these bold. 52^^. they were. 
53^ b. o, d, e. Robert, b. Berwick. 
64\ d, e, f. laird. 55^ Lauderdale. 
55^ d. horses set. 55*. well he would have. 
56^. b, d, e, f. to you wanting, f . I will. 
56'. f. But wanting. 56*. b, c. two old. 
Headings found only in f which have an edi- 
torial character. 
6'. he shall. 

12*. And sure I cannot say that of thee. 
13'. thou shalt. 

13*. Till with Bewick thou canst. 
22*. And O he did become. 



150 



212. THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE 



29*. Bully wanting : I 'm hither come to fight 

with thee. 
38^ psalm-book from his pouch. 
44*. Is this to be thy deadly wound. 
53^. And now up spake Sir Robert Bewick. 
54^. With that up spake my good laird. 
g. {Only partially collated.) 1^. he is. 
22. Billy Bewick. 

2\ leave (=:live). 5''. billy, and always. 
5^'*. Wanting. 

6*. see with Bewick he can. Cf. 13*. 
7*. good wine, as in a, c. 
10^'^. Wanting. 10*. you will take. 
12*. cannot be. ld^'\ would. 13». thou shall. 
14=^. should spoken be. Cf. 30^. 
20^. my brother. 

20^^. think that were. 22\ good ould jack. 
24^ leave of. 

25S 36\ 40S 42S 43S 44\ Nay. 
25^ had teacht. 28^. my billey. 30^ my billy. 
30*. have teacht. 31*. by thou. 
35^ thou /or O. SG''. will. 36». Nay /or But. 



37^ 
382. 
39*. 
41^ 
41«. 
48^. 
50*. 
521. 
53*. 
56*. 
h. 2*. 
41". 
48\ 



then wanting. 38^ from of his back, 
book from his shoulders. 39^. tear- 
in feald to fight. 40*. Sure wanting. 
jacket from. 

sword for spear : much better. 
mould hiU. 482. feet. 48*. lept. 
my billy. 51*. sunney side, 
leave of : thease bould. 62^. they were, 
was born. 55*. well he would a. 
two old. 

like us best. 5^. billie, and always. 
he stuck his sword into the grund. 
moudie hill. 51®. on the sunny side. 



The Common Place Book of Ancient and Mod- 
ern Ballad, etc., p. 292, gives 18 thus : 

Then Christie Graham 's to his chamber gane. 
And his thoughts within him made him sick, 

Whether he suld fight wi his auld father, 
Or wi his billie, learnd Bewick. 



212 

THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE 



A. Cromek's Select Scotish Song's, 1810, II, 196. 

B. Skene MS., p. 10. 

C. 'Duke of Athole's Gates,' Kinloch MSS, I, 335. 

D. ' Duke of Athole's Nurse,' Kinloch MSS, I, 337. 



E. a. ' Duke o Athole's Nourice,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 
171. b. 'The Duke of Athol's Nourice,' Kinloch's 
Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 127. 

P. 'The Duke of Athole's Nurse.' a. Buchan's Ballads 
of the North of Scotland, II, 23. b. Christie's Tradi- 
tional Ballad Airs, I, 80. 



M, N of No 214 have stanzas belonging 
here. M 1, 3 = A 3, 6; N 4, 6, 7 = A 2, 4, 6. 
A V-^\ 2 nearly, are found in No 213, 'Sir 
James the Rose,' 4^'^, 5, where also there is a 
treacherous leman. 

B. The ' new-come darling ' of the Duke 
of Athole offers the duke's nurse a ring if she 
will carry a word to her leman. This leman 
had previously been the nurse's lover, and 
comes to tell her that another has now pos- 
session of his heart. The nurse plans revenge, 
but dissimulates : she tells the faithless fellow 



to go for the night to an ale-house, and she 
will meet him there in the morning. But in- 
stead of the nurse he sees a band of men, her 
seven brothers (nine brothers, P), coming 
towards the house, and easily divines that 
they are come to slay him. He appeals to the 
landlady to save him; she dresses him in 
woman's clothes and sets him to her baking. 
The seven brothers ask the landlady if she 
had a lodger last night ; they are come to pay 
his reckoning. A lodger had been there, but 
he did not stay till morning. They search the 



212. THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE 



151 



^ 



house and stab the beds, often passing the 
sham baking-maid without detecting the dis- 
guise. 

C-P have nothing about the 'new-come 
darling,' but begin at once with the nurse, 



who longs for her lover, and would give her 
half-year's fee to see him. He appears, and 
avows to her that another woman has gained 
his heart. 



Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, 11, 196, 194; sent, 
with other fragments, by Robert Burns to William Tytler, 
August, 1790; stanzas 2-6. 

1 '• Whebb shall I gang, my ain true love ? 

Where shall I gang to hide me ? 
For weel ye ken i yere father's bowr 
It wad be death to find me.' 

2 ' O go you to yon tavern-house, 

An there count owre your lawin, 
An, if I be a woman true, 
I '11 meet you in the dawin.' 



3 O he 's gone to yon tavern-house, 

An ay he counted his lawin, 
An ay he drank to her guid health 
Was to meet him in the dawin. 

4 O he 's gone to yon tavern-house. 

An counted owre his lawin, 
When in there cam three armed men, 
To meet him in the dawin. 

6 ' O woe be unto woman's wit ! 
It has beguiled many ; 
She promised to come hersel, 

But she sent three men to slay me.* 



B 



Skene MS., p. 10 ; taken down in the north of Scotland, 
1802-3. 

1 * Ye are the Duke of Athol's nurse. 

And I 'm the new-come darling ; 
I '11 gie you my gay gold rings 
To get ae word of my leman.' 

2 * I am the Duke of Athol's nurse, 

And ye 're the new-come darling ; 
Keep well your gay gold rings, 

Ye sail get twa words o your leman.' 

3 He leand oure his saddle-bow. 

It was not for to kiss her : 
* Anither woman has my heart. 
And I but come here to see ye.* 

4 ' If anither woman has your heart, 

dear, but I am sorry ! 
Ye hie you down to yon ale-house. 
And stay untill 't be dawing. 



And if I be a woman true 
I 'U meet you in the dawing.' 

5 He did him down to yon ale-house. 

And drank untill 't was dawing ; 
He drank the bonnie lassie's health 
That was to clear his lawing. 

6 He lookit out of a shot-window, 

To see if she was coming. 
And there he seed her seven brithers, 
So fast as they were running ! 

7 He went up and down the house, 

Says, ' Landlady, can you save me ? 
For yonder comes her seven brithers. 
And they are coming to slay me.' 

8 So quick she minded her on a wile 

How she might protect him ! 
She dressd him in a suit of woman's attire 
And set him to her baking. 



152 



212. THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE 



9 * Had you a quarterer here last night, 
Or staid he to the dawing ? 
Shew us the room the squire lay in, 
We are come to clear his lawing.* 

10 ' I had a quarterer here last night, 
But he staid not to the dawing ; 



He called for a pint, and paid as he went, 
You have nothing to do with his lawing.' 

11 They searchd the house haith up and down, 
The curtains they spaird not to rive em, 
And twenty times they passd 
The squire at his baking. 



Kinloch MSS, I, 335. 

1 As I went down by the Duke of Athole's gates, 

Where the bells of the court were ringing. 
And there I heard a fair maid say, 
O if I had but ae sight o my Johnie ! 

2 * here is your Johnie just by your side ; 

What have ye to say to your Johnie ? 
O here is my hand, but anither has my heart. 
So ye '11 never get more o your Johnie.' 

3 ' O ye may go down to yon ale-house, 

And there do sit till the dawing ; 
And call for the wine that is very, very fine. 
And I 'U come and clear up your lawing.' 

4 So he 's gane down to yon ale-house. 

And he has sat till the dawing ; 
And he 's calld for the wine that 's very, very 
fine. 
But she neer cam to clear up his lawing. 

5 Lang or the dawing he oure the window looks. 

To see if his true-love was coming, 
And there he spied twelve weel armd boys, 
Coming over the plainstanes running. 

6 ' landlady, landlady, what shall I do ? 

For my life it 's not worth a farthing ! ' 



* O young man,' said she, * tak counsel by me, 
And I will be your undertaking. 

7 ' I will clothe you in my own body-clothes 

And I '11 send you like a girl to the baking : ' 
And loudly, loudly they rapped at the door. 
And loudly, loudly they rapped. 

8 * O had you any strangers here late last night ? 

Or were they lang gane or the dawing ? 
O had you any strangers here late last night ? 
We are now come to clear up his lawing.' 

9*01 had a stranger here late last night. 
But he was lang gane or the dawing ; 
He called for a pint, and he paid it as he went, 
And ye 've no more to do with his lawing.' 

10 ' show me the room that your stranger lay in, 

If he was lang gane or the dawing : ' 
She showed them the room that her stranger 
lay in, 
But he was lang gane or the dawing. 

11 they stabbed the feather-bed all round and 

round, 
And the curtains they neer stood to tear 

them ; 
And they gade as they cam, and left a' things 

undone. 
And left the young squire by his baking. 



Kinloch MSS, I, 337. 

1 As I cam in by the Duke of Athole's gate, 
I heard a fair maid singing, 
Wi a bonny baby on her knee, 

And the bells o the court were ringing. 



* O it 's I am the Duke of Athole's nurse, 
And the place does well become me ; 

But I would gie a' my half-year's fee 
Just for a sight o my Johnie. 



213. THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE 



153 



3 ' If ye '11 gae down to yon ale-house, 

And stop till it be dawing, 
And ca for a pint o the very, very best. 
And I '11 come and clear up your lawing.' 

4 O he 's gane down to yon ale-house, 

And stopt till it was dawing ; 
He ca'd for a pint o the very, very best, 
But she cam na to clear up his lawing. 

6 He looked out at the chamber-window. 
To see if she was coming ; 
And there he spied ten armed men, 
Across the plain coming running. 

6 ' landlady, landlady, what shall I do ? 
For my life is not worth a farthing ; 
I paid you a guinea for my lodging last 
night. 
But I fear I '11 never see sun shining.' 



7 ' If ye will be advised by me, 

I '11 be your undertaking ; 
I '11 dress you up in my ain body-clothes 
And set you to the baking.' 

8 So loudly at the door they rapt, 

So loudly are they calling, 
* O had you a stranger here last night, 
Or is he within your dwalling ? ' 

9*01 had a stranger here last night, 
But he wos gane or dawing ; 
He ca'd for a pint, and he paid it or he went, 
And I hae nae mair to do wi his lawing.' 

10 They stabd the feather-beds round and round, 
The curtains they spared na to tear them ; 
But they went as they came, and left a' things 
undone, 
And the young man busy baking. 



E 



a. Kinloch MSS, Vll, 171; from the recitation of Mrs 
Charles, Torry. b. Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, 
p. 127. 

1 ' I AM the Duke o Athole's nurse. 

My part does weill become me. 
And I wad gie aw my half-year's fee 
For ae sicht o my Johnie.' 

2 ' Keep weill, keep weill your half-year's fee, 

For ye '11 soon get a sicht o your Johnie ; 
But anither woman has my heart, 
And I 'm sorry for to leave ye.' 

3 * Ye '11 dow ye doun to yon changehouse. 

And ye '11 drink till the day be dawin ; 

At ilka pint's end ye 'U drink my health out, 

And I '11 come and pay for the lawin.' 

4 Ay he ranted and he sang, 

And drank till the day was dawin, 



And ay he drank the bonnie lassy's health 
That was coming to pay the lawin. 

6 He spared na the sack, tho it was dear, 
The wine nor the sugar-candy. 



6 He *s dune him to the shot-window. 

To see an she was coming. 
And there he spied twelve armed men, 
That oure the plain cam rinning. 

7 He 's dune him doun to the landlady. 

To see gin she wad protect him ; 
She 's buskit him up into women's claiths 
And set him till a baking. 

8 Sae loudly as they rappit at the yett, 

Sae loudly as they callit, 
* Had ye onie strangers here last nicht, 
That drank till the day was dawin ? ' 



20 



154 



aia. THE DUKE OF ATHOLES NURSE 



a. Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 23. 
b. Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 80. 

1 As I gaed in yon greenwood-side, 

I heard a fair maid singing ; 
Her voice was sweet, she sang sae complete 
That all the woods were ringing. 

2 ' O I 'm the Duke o Athole's nurse, 

My post is well becoming ; 
But I woud gie a' my half-year's fee 
For ae sight o my leman.' 

3 * Ye say, ye 're the Duke o Athole's nurse, 

Your post is well becoming ; 
Keep well, keep well your half-year's fee. 
Ye 'se hae twa sights o your leman.' 

4 He leand him ower his saddle-bow 

And caunilie kissd his dearie : 
* Ohon and alake ! anither has my heart, 
And I darena mair come near thee.' 

5 * Ohon and alake ! if anither hae your heart, 

These words hae fairly undone me ; 
But let us set a time, tryst to meet again. 
Then in gude friends you will twine me. 

6 ' Ye will do you down to yon tavern-house 

And drink till the day be dawing, 
And, as sure as I ance had a love for you, 
I '11 come there and clear your lawing. 

7 ' Ye '11 spare not the wine, altho it be fine, 

Nae Malago, tho it be rarely, 
But ye '11 aye drink the bonnie lassie's health 
That 's to clear your lawing fairly.' 

8 Then he 's done him down to yon tavern-house 

And drank till day was dawing, 
And aye he drank the bonny lassie's health 
That was coming to clear his lawing. 

9 And aye as he birled, and aye as he drank, 

The gude beer and the brandy. 
He spar'd not the wine, altho it was fine. 
The sack nor the sugar candy. 

10 * It 's a wonder to me,' the knight he did say, 
* My bonnie lassie's sae delaying ; 



She promisd, as sure as she loved me ance, 
She woud be here by the dawing.' 

11 He 's done him to a shott-window, 

A little before the dawing, 
And there he spied her nine brothers bauld. 
Were coming to betray him. 

12 ' Where shall I rin ? where shall I gang ? 

Or where shall I gang hide me ? 
She that was to meet me in friendship this 
day 
Has sent nine men to slay me ! * 

13 He 's gane to the landlady o the house, 

Says, ' can you supply me ? 
For she that was to meet me in friendship this 
day 
Has sent nine men to slay me.' 

14 She gae him a suit o her ain female claise 

And set him to the baking ; 
The bird never sang mair sweet on the bush 
Nor the knight sung at the baking. 

15 As they came in at the ha-door, 

Sae loudly as they rappit ! 
And when they came upon the floor, 
Sae loudly as they chappit ! 

16 ' O had ye a stranger here last night, 

Who drank till the day was dawing ? 
Come show us the chamber where he lyes in. 
We '11 shortly clear his lawing.' 

17 * I had nae stranger here last night 

That drank till the day was dawing ; 
But ane that took a pint, and paid it ere he 
went. 
And there 's naething to clear o his law- 

18 A lad amang the rest, being o a merry mood. 

To the young knight fell a-talking ; 
The wife took her foot and gae him a kick, 
Says, Be busy, ye jilt, at your baking. 

19 They stabbed the house baith but and ben, 

The curtains they spared nae riving, 
And for a' that they did search and ca. 

For a kiss o the knight they were striv- 
ing. 



213. SIR JAMES THE ROSE 



155 



E. a. 1^ nurse altered to nurice. 

3*. drink the bonnie out, originally. 
4:\ drank struck out for sang. 
7^. and struck out before gin. 
S\ callit changed in pencil to were calling. 
b. The printed copy seems to have been made up 
from a and Kinloch's other versions. 
1. Preceded by these two lines, taken from D : 

As I cam in by Athol's yetts, 
I heard a fair maid singing. 

1^. And I wat it weel does set me. 

S^. ye '11 omitted. 3'. drink the lass' health. 

3*. That 's coming to pay the. (This stanza 

occurs in MotherwelVs Note-Book, p. 46, 

where it is credited to a MS.) 

After 3 : 

He hied him doun to yon change-house, 

And he drank till the day was dawing. 
And at ilka pint's end he drank the lass' 
health 
That was coming to pay for his lawing. 

4^. and aye. 

6'. see gin she war. 



P. 



6*. There he saw the duke and a' his merry 

men. 
6*. the hill. 7^. doun omitted. 
7'. She buskit : woman's. 
8'. they war calling. 
8'. Had ye a young man here yestreen. 
After 8 : 

* He drank but ae pint, and he paid it or he 
went. 
And ye 've na mair to do wi the lawing.' 
They searchit the house a' round and round, 
And they spared na the curtains to tear 
them, 

While the landlady stood upo the stair-head, 
Crying, ' Maid, be busy at your baking ! ' 

They gaed as they cam, and left a' undone. 
And left the bonnie maid at her baking. 

b. " Some alterations mxtde from the way it 
was sung " by the editor's maternal grand- 
father. 
4^. And kindly said. My dearie. 
6*. as you ance had a love for me. 
11*. That were. 

12*. Where shall I gang to hide me. 
14*. Than the. 



213 

SIR JAMES THE ROSE 



*Sir James the Rose.' a. From a stall-tract of about 
1780, Abbotsford library, b. Motherwell's Min- 
strelsy, p. 321. c. Sir James the Rose's Garland, 
one of a volume of the like from Heber's library. 



d. Motherwell's MS., p. 281 ; from the recitation of 
Mrs Gentles, of Paisley, e. Herd's MSB, I, 82. f. 
The same, II, 42. g. ' Sir James the Rose,' Pin- 
kerton's Scottish Tragic Ballads, 1781, p. 61. 



b, says Motherwell, " is given as it occurs 
in early stall-prints, and as it is to be ob- 
tained from the recitations of elderly people." 
Most of the variations are derived from d. 
o may have been printed earlier than a, but 
is astonishingly faulty, d, well remembered 
from print, is what Motherwell meant by 
" the recitations of elderly people." e was ob- 



tained by Herd, probably from recitation, as 
early as 1776, but must have been learned 
from print, f is e with a few missing lines 
supplied, g, says Pinkerton, " is given from 
a modern edition in one sheet 12mo," but was 
beyond question considerably manipulated by 
the editor. All the important variations are 
certainly his work. 



y 



156 



213. SIR JAMES THE ROSE 



The copy in Buchan's Gleanings, p. 9, is g. 
Whitekw, in his Book of Scotish Ballads, p. 
39, has combined b and g. 

Half a dozen lines preserved by Burns, 
Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, II, 196 (see 
the preface to No 212), seem to belong to 
this ballad. 

' Sir James the Ross, A Historical Ballad ' 
I (sometimes called ' The Buchanshire Trage- 
dy '), was composed by the youthful Michael 
Bruce (f 1767) upon the story of the popu- 
■ lar ballad, and has perhaps enjoyed more 
^ favor with " the general " than the original.* 
' Elfrida and Sir James of Perth,' Caw's Po- 
etical Museum, 1784, p. 290 (probably taken, 
as most of the pieces are by the collector said 
to be, from some periodical publication), looks 
more like an imitation of Bruce's ballad than 
of its prototype. It is in fact a stark plagia- 
rism. 

Sir James the Rose has killed a squire, and 
men are out to take him. A nurse at the 
house of Marr is his leman, and he resorts to 
her in the hope that she may befriend him. 
She advises him to go to an ale-house for the 
night, promising to meet him there in the 
morning; he says he will do so, but, per- 
haps from distrust, which proves to be well 
grounded, prefers to wrap himself in his plaid 
and sleep under the sky. The party sent 
out to take him question the nurse, who at 
first makes a deceptive answer, then gives 
them a direction to his hiding-place. They 
find James the Rose asleep and take away his 
arms ; he wakes and begs for mercy, and is 
told that he shall have such as he has given. 
He appeals to his servant to stay by him till 
death, and then to take his body to Loch 
Largan (Loughargan), for which service the 
man shall have his clothes and valuables. The 
avengers cut out his heart and take it to his 
leman at the house of Marr; she raves over her 



treachery, and is ' born away ' bodily, to be 
seen no more. 

e, f, it may be by accident, lack the vulgar 
passage 18, 19, which may be a later addi- 
tion, for nothing is said of a man being in 
attendance when Sir James goes to his lair. 
The leader of the band that takes Sir James 
the Rose is Sir James the Graham, Sir James 
Graham, in o, e, f ; a simple error, evidently. 
No motive is furnished in a-f for the woman's s/ 
betraying her leman. g makes her offer in- 
formation on condition of getting a proper 
reward, and she is promised Sir James's purse 
and brechan, but in the end is tendered his 
bleeding heart and his bleeding tartan, what- 
ever that may be other than his brechan. 
This must be one of Pinkerton's improve- 
ments. The moral tag, st. 24, is dropped, or 
wanting, in o, e, f, g. 

The topography of traditional ballads fre- 
quently presents difficulties, both because it 
is liable to be changed, wholly, or, what is 
more embarrassing, partially, to suit a locality 
to which a ballad has been transported, and 
again because unfamiliar names, when not ex- 
changed, are exposed to corruption. Some of 
the places, also, have not a dignity which en- 
titles them to notice in gazetteers. The first 
point, in the case before us, would be to settle 
the whereabouts of the House of Marr, in the 
vicinity of which the scene is laid. This I 
am unable to do. There is a Ballechin in Lo- 
gierait Parish, Perthshire. There is said to 
be a Baleichan in Forfarshire.f It is not easy 
to see why the heir of either of these places 
(Buleighan and the rest may stand for either) 
should wish to have his body taken to Loch 
Largon in Invernesshire, if Loch Largon 
means Loch Laggan, as seems likely. J 

Translated by Knortz, Schottische Balla- 
den, p. 79, after Aytoun. 



j^ - * ' Sir James the Ross ' was first printed in The Weekly 

•^•^X' Magazine, or, Edinburgh Amusement, IX, 371, in 1770 
^. (Grosart, Works of Michael Bruce, p. 257, the ballad at 

p. 197), and in the same year in " Poems on Several Occa- 
sions, by Michael Bruce " (p. 30), with differences, which are 
attributed to Logan, the editor. 

t " The older ballad, entitled ' The Young Heir of Balei- 
chan,' or Baleighan, ... is claimed for this parish [Crim- 



ond, Aberdeenshire] ; while the same ballad is said to be 
founded on a traditionary tale of Baleichan in Forfarshire." 
Smith, A New History of Aberdeenshire, 1875, p. 429. 

X Pinkerton reads Loch Lagan. He also reads 'the 
Hichts of Lundie,* in 10*, for 'the gates of London.' Lun- 
die is in Forfarshire. I suppose both readings to be Pin- 
kerton's emendations. 



213. SIB JAMES THE ROSE 



157 



1 O HEARD ye of Sir James the Bose, 

The young heir of Buleighen ? 
For he has killd a gallant squire, 
An 's friends are out to take him. 

2 Now he 's gone to the House of Marr, 

Where the nourrice was his leman ; 
To see his dear he did repair, 

Thinking she would befriend him. 

3 * Where are you going, Sir James ? ' she says, 

' Or where now are you riding ? ' 

* O I am bound to a foreign land, 

For now I 'm under hiding. 

4 * Where shall I go ? Where shall I run ? 

Where shall I go to hide me ? 
For I have killd a gallant squire. 
And they 're seeking to slay me.' 

5 ' O go ye down to yon ale-house, 

And I '11 pay there your lawing ; 
And, if I be a woman true, 
I *11 meet you in the dawing.' 

6 ' I '11 not go down to yon ale-house. 

For you to pay my lawing ; 
There 's forty shillings for one supper, 
I '11 stay in 't till the dawing.' 

7 He 's turnd him right and round about 

And rowd him in his brechan. 

And he has gone to take a sleep, 

In the lowlands of Buleighen. 

8 He was not well gone out of sight, 

Nor was he past Milstrethen, 

Till four and twenty belted knights 

Came riding oer the Leathen. 

9 * O have you seen Sir James the Bose, 

The young heir of Buleighen ? 
For he has killd a gallant squire, 
And we 're sent out to take him.' 

10 ' O I have seen Sir James,' she says, 

* For he past here on Monday ; 

If the steed be swift that he rides on, 
He 's past the gates of London.' 

11 But as they were going away. 

Then she calld out behind them ; 

* If you do seek Sir James,' she says, 

* I '11 tell you where you '11 find him. 



12 ' You '11 seek the bank above the mill, 

In the lowlands of Buleighen, 
And there you '11 find Sir James the Rose, 
Lying sleeping in his brechan. 

13 * You must not wake him out of sleep, 

Nor yet must you affright him. 
Till you run a dart quite thro his heart, 
And thro the body pierce him.' 

14 They sought the bank above the mill. 

In the lowlands of Buleighan, 
And there they found Sir James the Rose, 
A sleeping in his brechan. 

16 Then out bespoke Sir John the Graeme, 
Who had the charge a keeping ; 
' It 's neer be said, dear gentlemen. 
We '11 kill him when he 's sleeping.' 

16 They seizd his broadsword and his targe, 

And closely him surrounded ; 
But when he wak'd out of his sleep, 
His senses were confounded. 

17 * O pardon, pardon, gentlemen ! 

Have mercy now upon me ! ' 
* Such as you gave, such you shall have. 
And so we '11 fall upon thee.' 

18 ' Donald my man, wait me upon. 

And I '11 give you my brechan, 
And, if you stay here till I die, 
You '11 get my trews of tartan. 

19 ' There is fifty pounds in my pocket, 

Besides my trews and brechan ; 
You '11 get my watch and diamond ring ; 
And take me to Loch Largon.' 

20 Now they have taken out his heart 

And stuck it on a spear, 
Then took it to the House of Marr, 
And gave it to his dear. 

21 But when she saw his bleeding heart 

She was like one distracted ; 
She smote her breast, and wrung her hands. 
Crying, ' What now have I acted ! 

22 * Sir James the Rose, now for thy sake 

O but my heart 's a breaking ! 
Curst be the day I did thee betray, 
Thou brave knight of Buleighen.' 



158 



213. SIR JAMES THE ROSE 



23 Then up she rose, and forth she goes, 
All in that fatal hour, 
And bodily was born away, 
And never was seen more. 



24 But where she went was never kend. 
And so, to end the matter, 
A traitor's end, you may depend. 
Can be expect'd no better. 



a» From " A collection of Popular Ballads and 
Tales," in six volumes, " formed by me," 
says Sir W. Scott, " when a boy, from the 
baskets of the travelling pedlars. ... It con- 
tains most of the pieces that were popular 
about thirty years since." (" 1810.") Vol. 
IV, No 21. In stanzas of eight lines. 
b. l'*. Buleighan, and always. 2^. To seek (d). 

5'. there pay. 5^. maiden true (d). 

11^. As they rode on, man after man. 

11^ she cried. 11^. James the Rose. 

12^. Seek ye the bank abune. 

138. yo^ (jrive (d). 13*. through his (d). 

14^. abune (d). 14*. Lying sleeping (d). 

15\ Up then spake (d). 15«. It shall (d). 

15*. We killed : when a (d). 16*. And (d). 

17*. we fall (d). 

20^. they 've taen out his bleeding heart (d). 

21'. wrung her hands and tore her hair (d). 

21*. Oh, what have I. 

22^ It 's for your sake. Sir J. the R. (d). 

221 That my poor heart's (d). 

23*. She bodily. 24*. Can never be no. 
O. 1^. Did you hear. 

V. That young. 1% 7*, 9^. Belichan. 

1*. For xoanting. 1*. Who was sent out. 

2^. Now wanting. 

2^. nurse she was his layman. 

Z^. where ar# you a. 

3'. I am going to some land. 

3*. For I am. 4^. Where must : I turn. 

4^. I run. 4^ 9^ esquire. 

4*. And my friends are out to take me. 

5^. Go you. 

5^. There you '11 stay till the dawning. 

5*. I '11 come and pay your lawing. 

6^. down wanting. 

6*^. To stay unto the dawning. 

6*. Now if you be a woman true. 

6*. [D] o ( ? ) come and pay the lawning. 

7\ himself quite round. 7*. he is. 

8^. not quite out. 8^^. Wanting. 

8*. ore Beligham. 9^. did you see. 

92. That. 98. For wanting. 



9*. Who was sent. 

10^. Oh yes, I seed S. J. the R. 

lO'^. He passed by here. 

10'. His steed was : rid. 10*. And past. 

11^. Just as. 

11'. They thought no more upon him. 

11«. Oh if you want S. J. the R. 

12^^. And the : Belighan. 12*. And wanting. 

13 as 14. 13^. him from his. 
13^^. you wanting. 

13'. But in his breast must run a dart. 

14 as 13. 14'. And lowlands. 
14*. Lying sleeping. 

15^. up bespoke Sir James the Graham. 

15'. charge in. 15'. Letitneer: gentleman. 

15*. We killd a man a sleeping. 

16^ They have taken from him his sword and 

target. 
16'. wakened out of sleep. 16*. was. 
17^. O wanting. 
17'. And now have mercy on. 
17'. Which as. 

17*. And so shall fall upon you. 
18'. Until I be a dead man. 
18'. You '11 get my hose, likewise my shoes. 
18*. Likewise my Highland brichan. 
19^''. Wanting. 
19'* with 20^': 20'* with 21i-': 21«'* with 

22'-*: 22^'^ wanting. 
19'. You shall have my. 
19*. If you '11 carry me to Lougliargan. 
20^. tane out his bleeding heart. 
20'. And fetched it on a spear man. 
20'. And locked it to the Marr. 
20*. A present to. 21'. She ran. 
21'. She wrung her hands and smote her 

breast. 
21*. Oh what have I done, what have I acted. 
22'. day I you betrayd. 22*. of Brichan. 
23^ Then wanting. 23'. And in. 
23'. Her body by. 

23*. never was heard tell of : more wanting. 
24. Wanting. 
d. 1'. Buleichan, and always. 1*. And his. 



213. SIB JAMES THE ROSE 



159 



2^. Now wanting. 2®. To seek. 
3. Wanting. 

4*. They 're seeking for to. 5^ there I '11 pay. 
6'. a maiden. 6^. no gae. 
6*. thirty shillings for your. 
6*. And stay until the. 8^ He had. 
8'. And past the Mill strethan. 
10^ S. J. the Rose. 11^ But wanting. 
IV. She cried out. 11". S. J. the Rose. 
12^ Search the. 13*. you drive. 
13*. through his. 14^. They searched : abune. 
14*. Lying sleeping. 15^ Up then spoke. 
16*. It shall. 15*. We killed him when a. 
16*. And. 17*. we faU. 
19^. There is wanting. 
20^. They 've taen out his bleeding. 
20*. And they 've gone to. 20*. And gien. 
21^. But wanting. 

21®. She wrung her hands and tore her hair. 
21*. Crying, Now what. 
22^ It 's for your sake, S. J. the R. 
22**. That my poor heart 's. 
23^. Then wanting. 23^. And in. 
23®. Bodily : She prefixed later. 24^ kent. 
24*. Cannot expect no. 
e, f. e. Another song of Sir James the Ross ; 

this following Bruce' s ballad, which has the 

title (jp. 73) Sir James the Rose or de Ross. 

f. Another song of Sir James de Ross. 
1*. did ye na ken Sir. 
l**. e. Ballachen, and always. 
f. 1% 7*, 92, Ballachen ; 12^ Ballichan ; 
142, Ballichin; 22*, Ballichen. 
1*. e. And they seeking, f. And they're 

seeking. 
2\ He 's hy'd him : Moor. 
2^*, 3. e. Wanting. 
S^. t. O where away are. 
3'. f. to some. 4}. O where. 
4*. O whither shall I hide me. 
4*. to kill. 5^. e. gan ye. f. gang you. 
6'. I will pay your. 5®. And gin there be. 
6^. gang. 6". shillings in my purse. 
6*. We '1 stake it in the. 7^ He turnd. 
7«. is gone. 8^ Mill Strechin. 8«. Ere. 
8*. the Rechin. 9^. O saw ye. 
10^ O yes, I saw S. J. the R. 
10'. And gif : swift he : on wanting. 
10*. He 's near. 

11^. They were not well gane out o sight. 
11^. Ere she. 11^ O gin ye seek S. J. the R. 
11*. ye where to. 
12^. Ye '11 search the bush aboon the know. 



13^. him from his sleep. 

13'. Neither man you 

14^. the bush aboon the know. 

14*. Lying sleeping. 

15^. O then spake up Sir James Graham. 

15*. Let it not be. 15*. We killd : while. 

16^. They 've tane his broadsword from his 

side. 
1Q\ him they have for closely him. 
16^ o for of his. 
17^. pardon me, I pray ye. 
17®. ye gae, such shall ye hae. 
17*. There is no pardon for ye. 
18, 19. Wanting. 

20^ they 've tane out his bleeding heart. 
202. f stigi^t it^ 

20'. Then carried, e. Mure. f. Moor. 
20*. And shewd. 21^. But wanting. 
212. ghe rav'd. 

21®. And cried, Alake, a weel (well) a day. 
21*. Alas what have. 22^, My heart it is a. 
22®. Wae to the day I thee betrayd. 
22*. Thou bold. 23'. In that unhappy hour. 
23*. neer was heard of more. 24. Wanting. 
g. 1^. Buleighan, and always. 

1*. Whase friends. 2\ has gane. 

2'. Whar nane might seek to find him. 

2*. Weining. 3^ said. 

32. O whar awa are ye. 3®. I maun be bound. 

3*. And now. 4'. I rin to lay. 

4*. And his friends seek. 6^ yon laigh. 

52. I sail pay there. 

5®. And as I am your leman trew. 

5*. at the. 6. Wanting. 7\ He turnd. 

7". And laid him doun to. 8®. Whan. 

9*. sent to. 10\ Yea, I : said. 

102. jjg past by here. 10®. Gin. 

10*. the Hichts of Lundie. 

11^ as wi speid they rade awa. 

11^. She leudly cryd. 

11®. Gin ye '11 gie me a worthy meid. 

11*. whar to. 

12. ' O tell, fau" maid, and, on our band, 
Ye 'se get his purse and brechan : * 
* He 's in the bank aboon the mill, 
In the lawlands o Buleighan.' 

13, 14. Wanting. 15^. out and spak. 
15®. said, my stalwart feres. 
15*. We killd him whan a. 
16''*. O pardon, mercy, gentlemen ! 
He then fou loudly sounded. 



160 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



17»'*-19. 

' Sic as ye gae sic ye sail hae, 

Nae grace we shaw to thee can.' 
* Donald my man, wait till I fa, 

And ye shall hae my brechan ; 
Ye '11 get my purse, thouch fou o gowd. 

To tak me to Loch Lagan.' 

20^ Syne they tuke out his bleeding heart. 
20''. And set. 20*. And shawd. 



21. We cold nae gie Sir James's purse. 
We cold nae gie his brechan. 
But ye sail ha his bleeding heart, 
Bot and his bleeding tartan. 

22^ for. 22«. My heart is now. 

22^. day I wrocht thy wae. 22*. brave heir. 

23*^^ And in that hour o tein. She wanderd 

to the dowie glen. 
23*. never mair was sein. 24. Wanting. 



214 

THE BRAES YARROW 



A. * The Braes of Yarrow,' communicated to Percy by 
Dr Robertson, Principal of Edinburgh. 

B. *The Braes o Yarrow,' Murison MS., p. 105. 

C. ' The Dowie Downs o Yarrow,' Motherwell's MS., 
p. 334 ; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 252. 

D. 'The Bonny Braes of Yarrow,' communicated to 
Percy by Robert Lambe, of Norham, 1768. 

E. a. * The Dowy Houms o Yarrow,' " Scotch Bal- 
lads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 
b. ' The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,' Scott's Minstrelsy 
III, 72, 1803, III, 143, 1833. 

P. * The Dowie Dens o Yarrow,' " Scotch Ballads^, 
Materials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 

O. 'The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,' "Scotch Ballads, 
Materials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 

H. 'The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,' Campbell MSS, 
11,65. 



I. 'Braes of Yarrow,' Buchan's MSS, 11, 161; Bu- 
chan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 203 ; 
Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Bal- 
lads, p. 68, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 

J. * The Dowie Glens of Yarrow,' " Scotch Ballads, 
Materials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 

K. ' The Dowie Den in Yarrow,' Campbell MSS, I, 8. 

L. ' The Dowie Dens,' Blackwood's Magazine, 
CXLVII, 741, June, 1890. 

M. * Dowie Banks of Yarrow,' " Scotch Ballads, Ma- 
terials for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 

N. * The Yetts of Gowrie,' " Scotch Ballads, Materials 
for Border Minstrelsy," Abbotsford. 

O. Herd's MSS, I, 35, II, 181; Herd's Ancient and 
Modern Scottish Songs, 1776, 1, 145; four stanzas. 

P. Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 196 ; two 
stanzas. 



First published in Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border, 1803 (B b). Scott remarks that 
he "found it easy to collect a variety of copies, 
but very difficult indeed to select from them 
such a collated edition as might in any degree 
suit the taste of 'these more light and giddy- 
paced times.' " The copy principally used 
was E a. St. 12 of Scott, which suited the 



taste of the last century, but does not suit with 
a popular ballad, is from O, and also st. 18, 
and there are traces of F, G, M, but 5-7 have 
lines which do not occur in any version that I 
have seen. 

A had been somewhat edited before it was 
communicated to Percy ; the places were, 
however, indicated by commas. Several copies 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



161 



\ besides O, already referred to, have slight 

^ passages that never came from the unsophis- 

I ticated people ; as J 2, in which a page " runs 

I with sorrow," for rhyme and without reason, 

L 2% and L 12^'*, which is manifestly taken 

from Logan's Braes of Yarrow.* N has been 

interpolated with artificial nonsense,f and is 

an almost worthless copy; the last stanza 

may defy competition for silliness. 

M 1, 8, and N 4, 6, 7, belong to 'The 
Duke of Athole's Nurse.' So also does one 
half of a fragment sent by Burns in a letter to 
William Tytler, Cromek's Select Scotish 
Songs, 1810, II, 194-8, which, however, has 
two stanzas of this ballad (P) and two of 
* Rare Willie 's drowned in Yarrow,' No 215. 
The fragment in Ritson's Scotish Songs, 
1794, I, Ixvii, is O. 

Herd's MSS, I, 36, II, 182, have the follow- 
ing couplets, evidently from a piece treating 
the story of this ballad : 

O when I look east my heart is sair, 
But when I look west it 's mair and mair, 
For there I see the braes of Yarrow, 
And there I lost for ay my marrow. 

The groups A-I and J-P are distinguished 
by the circumstance, of no importance to the 
story, that the hero and heroine in the former 
are man and wife, in the other unmarried 
lovers. In all the versions (leaving out of 
account the fragments O, P) the family of the 
woman are at variance with the man. Her 
brothers think him an unfit match for their 
sister, A 8, B 2.$ In O 2 the brothers have 
taken offence because their sister was not re- 
garded as his equal by her husband, which is 
perhaps too much of a refinement for ballads, 

* Logan has a page, and the page may have come from 
some previously corrupted version of the popular ballad 
which J may follow. The first half of the stanza corre- 
sponding to L 12 in Logan is from the popular ballad. 

t Sometimes also with sensible prose, as 7^, ' But I find 
she has deceived me ; ' 12^, 'I dreamed my luive had lost 
his life.' 
f The loose, though limited, rhyme in this ballad, in ' The 
! Bonnie House of Airlie,' etc., does not favor exact recollec- 
i tion, and furnishes a temptation to invention : hence the 
] sparrow in B 6, the arrow in D 7, the narrow in I 12, and, 
I I fear, the harrow in L 9, which of itself is good, while all 
' the others are bad. 

I It must be noted, however, that in ' Ye think me an un- 

VOL. IV. 21 



and may be a perversion. She was worth 
stealing in O as in B. The dispute in two or 
three copies appears to take the form who is 
the flower, or rose, of Yarrow, that is the best 
man, C 8, 9, 17, B 1, 12, D 1, 14 ; but this 
matter is muddled, cf. C 2, 3, D 2. We hear 
nothing about the unequal match in D-I, but 
in J-L a young lady displeases her father by 
refusing nine gentlemen in favor of a servant- 
lad. 

Men who are drinking together fall out and 
set a combat for the next day, B-P, H, I. It 
is three lords that drink and quarrel in B-D 
(ten (?) in I). The lady fears that her three 
brothers will slay her husband, B 5, C 5. The 
lord in D 2 seems not to be one of the three 
in D 1, and we are probably to understand 
that three brothers get into a brawl with a 
man who has surreptitiously married their 
sister. Only one brother is spoken of in A (6), 
from whom treachery is looked for, E 2. 

In I-L the father makes the servant-lad 
fight with the nine high-born suitors. 

The wife tries to keep her husband at home, 
A-E, I ; but he is confident that all will go 
well, and that he shall come back to her early, 
A, B, C, I. She kisses (washes) and combs 
him, and helps to arm him, B, C, B, P, G, I ; 
so J, K.§ He finds nine armed men awaiting 
him on the braes or houms of Yarrow, A, E-G, 
I-M, ten B, D.|| They ask if he has come to 
hawk, hunt (drink), or fight ; he replies that 
he has come to fight, C, E, I ; cf . A 5, 6. Five 
(four) he slays and four (five) he wounds, 
A, B, D, E, I, J, K; in P he kills all the nine ; 
in L he gets no further than the seventh ; in 
G he kills all but one. 

These nine, after the way of ballads, should 

meet marrow,' A 8^, Ye is an editorial reading. I may re- 
mark that I have included M-P in the second group simply 
because the hero in these is called love or true-love. The 
husband, however, has both titles in A. 

§ ' Wi a thrusty rapier,' J, which I feel compelled to un- 
derstand as the commonplace ' trusty ;' but, guided by ' a 
rusted rapier,' E, we ought perhaps to read ' rusty.' In L 
the lady kisses and combs the swain, and sets him on her 
milk-white steed. — Since I suppose lover to have been sub- 
stituted for husband in the course of tradition, I shall not 
be so precise as to distinguish the two when this would be 
inconvenient. 

II Nine is the number also in H, as we see from st. 5, com- 
pared with E, 5, 11. 



162 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



be the lady's brothers, and such they are in 
A 7, 8. Three of them, but only three, should 
be the lady's brother^ according to B 1-5, 
O 1-5. Three brethren are charged by the 
husband with a message to his lady in D 8, 
and these might be his brothers-in-law. The 
message is sent in E 9 by a good-brother, or 
wife's brother, John, who clearly was not in 
the fight in B, though the husband says he is 
going to meet this brother John in A 6. This 
brother-in-law of E is probably intended by 
brother in I 8. 

After the hero has successively disposed of 
his nine or ten antagonists (he takes them 
* man for man '), he is stabbed from behind 
in a cowardly way, A, B, 0, B, I, L, N, by 
somebody. The tradition is much blurred 
here; it is a squire out of the bush, a cow- 
ardly man, a fause lord. An Englishman 
shoots him with an arrow out of a bush in D. 
But other reports are distinct. The lady's 
father runs him through (not from behind) in 
J, K. Her brother springs from a bush be- 
hind and runs him through, L. Her brother 
John comes behind him and slays him, N. 
Up and rose her brother James and slew 
him, M. In B " that stubborn knight " comes 
behind him and runs his body through, and 
that (a) "stubborn lord" is the author of 
his death in G, P. Taking B 2, 8, 9 together, 
the stubborn knight, at least in B, may be in- 
terpreted as good-brother John, whose treach- 
ery is feared in E 2, who is prominent in A 6, 
and who is expressly said to slay his sister's 
true-love in N. On the whole, the preponder- 
ance of tradition is to the effect that the hero 
was treacherously slain by his wife's (love's) 
brother. 

V ♦It will be remembered that green is an unlncky color : 
/^ see II, 181 f. 

I t She tears the ribbons from her head in D 11, 1 12, when 

she hears the tidings : but this belongs to the bride in the 
ballad which succeeds, No 215. 

} Ten in F, to include the lord with his nine foemen. 
Bat why only nine in E, 6, M ? Is it not because one of 
the brothers had not been mortally wounded, the brother who 
is said to kill the husband ("lover} in L, M, N, and who may 
reasonably be supposed to do this in E, F, G 1 Such a mat- 
ter would not be left in obscurity in the original ballad. 
(' § This is disagreeable, assuredly, and unnatural too. It is 
'drank,' probably, that is softened to 'wiped' in A 14. 
, l^r Scott, to avoid unpleasantness, reads ' She kissd them (his 
I "Y ) wounds) till her lips grew red ; * which would not take long. 

f 'X 



V" 



<: 



Word of her husband's death is sent or car- 
ried to the wife by her brother, brother John, 
A, B, L, N ; her or his three brothers, D 8 ; 
her or his brother, I 8; his man John, O 12, 
by mistake ; her father (?), J, K ; her sister 
Anne, P, G, H. The wile has had a dream 
that she, her lord or true-love and she, had 
been pulling green heather (birk) in Yarrow, 

A, C-F, I-M, O.* The dream is explained 
to signify her lord's death, and she is en- 
joined to fetch him home. In A, the dream 
occurs before the fight and is double, of pull- 
ing green heather and of her love coming 
headless home ; in B, the lady dreams that her 
lord was sleeping sound in Yarrow, and in the 
highly vitiated N that ' he had lost his life.' 

The wife hurries to Yarrow ; f up a high, 
high hill and down into the valley, where she 
sees nine (ten) dead men, B, P, G, M (nine 
well-armed men, wrongly, H).J She sees her 
true-love lying slain, finds him sleeping sound, 
in Yarrow, A, B, J, K. She kisses him and 
combs his hair, A, B, F, G, I, L, M ; she . 

drinks the blood that runs from him, B 12, i. W< 
P 11, G7, M 9.§ 

Her hair is five quarters long ; she twists it 
round his hand and draws him home, C ; ties 
it round his middle and carries him home, D. 
She takes three lachters of her hair, ties them 
tight round his middle and carries him home, 

B. Hii hair is five quarters long I she ties it 
to her horse's mane and trails him home, K.|| 
The carrying strikes one as unpractical, the 
trailing as barbarous. In L, after the lover is 
slain, the surviving lords and her brother trail 
him by the heels to Yarrow water and throw 
him into a whirlpool. The lady, searching for 
him, sees him 'deeply drowned.' His hair. 

This is all nicely arranged in L : ' She laid him on her 
milk-white steed, and bore him home from Yarrow; she 
washed his wounds in yon well-strand, and dried him wi the 
hoUan.' The washing and drying are done in J on the spot, 
where there might have been water, but no hoUan. 

II The reciters of A and J, whether they gave what they 
had received, or tried to avoid the material difficulties about 
the hair, graze upon absurdity. Her hair was three quarters 
long, she tied it round 'her' ("for his?^ white hause-bane — 
and died, A 15. His hair was three quarters long, she 's wrapt 
it round her middle — and brought it home, J 16. The hair 
comes in again in the next two ballads, and causes difficulty. 
Wonderful things are done with hair in ballads and tales: 
see I, 40 b, and the note at 486 b. 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



163 



which we must suppose to float, is five quar- 
ters long ; she twines it round her hand and 
draws him out. Raising no petty questions, it 
appears enough to say that this is the only ver- 
sion of fourteen in which the drowning occurs, 
and that the drowning of the lover is the char- 
acteristic of No 215, the next following ballad, 
which has otherwise been partly confused with 
this.* 

The lady's father urges her to restrain her 
grief ; he will wed her with as good a lord as 
she has lost, or a better ; she rejects his sug- 
gestions. Her heart breaks, B, I; she dies 
in her father's arms, D, P-H, J-L, being at 
the time big with child, B, D, F-H, J. 

The lady tells her father to wed his sons, B 
12; his seven sons, J 18. So 'Clerk Saun- 
ders ' (of which this may be a reminiscence, 
for we do not hear of seven sons in this bal- 
lad), No 69, G 28 ; cf. A 26, B 19. 

She bids him take home his ousen and his 
kye, E 15, F 12, G 8, H 9. This I conceive 
to be an interpolation by a reciter who fol- 
lowed the tradition cited from Hogg further on. 

The message to the mother to come take up 
her son in I 8 may possibly be a reminiscence 
from ' Johnie Cock,' No 114. It occurs in no 
other copy, and comes in awkwardly. 

* The Braes of Yarrow' (' Busk ye, busk ye, 
my bony, bony bride '), written by William 
Hamilton of Bangour "in imitation of the 
ancient Scottish manner,' was suggested by 
this ballad.f 

'The Dowy Dens,' Evans's Old Ballads, 
1810, HI, 342, has the same foundation. 
' The Haughs o Yarrow,' a modern piece in 
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, 
n, 211, repeats with a slight change the third 

* L 19 is also fonnd only in that copy. It seems to me, 
but only because L does not strike me as being of an origi- 
nal cast — rather a ballad improved by reciters, — to be an 
adaptation of No 2 1 5, A 2. 

t James Chalmers, in Archseolojna Scotica, Til, 261, says 
that Hamilton's balliid was contributed to the second vol- 
ume of the Tea Table Miscellany in 1724. It is not in the 
Dublin edition of 1729. It is at p. 242 of the London edi- 
tion of 1733; in Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, II, 34, of 
the same year; at p. 46 of the first edition of [Hamilton's] 
Poems on Several Occasions, Glasgow, 1748. The author 
died in 1754, The copy in the second edition of Hamilton's 
Poems, 1760, p. 67, says Chalmers, is somewhat altered. 

In Hamilton's ballad it is a lover, and not a husband, who 



stanza of O, and has further on half a stanza 
from ' Willie's rare,' No 215. 

James Hogg, in sending B a to Sir Walter 
Scott, wrote as follows : " Tradition placeth 
the event on which this song is founded very 
early. That the song hath been written neai 
the time of the transaction appears quite evi- 
dent, although, like others, by frequent sing- 
ing the language is become adapted to an age 
not so far distant. The bard does not at all 
relate particulars, but only mentions some 
striking features of a tragical event which 
everybody knew. This is observable in many 
of the productions of early times ; at least the 
secondary bards seem to have regarded their 
songs as purely temporary. 

" The hero of the ballad is said to have been 
of the name of Scott, and is called a knight of 
great bravery. He lived in Ettrick, some say 
at Oakwood, others Kirkhope ; but was treach- 
erously slain by his brother-in-law, as related 
in the ballad, who had hira at ill will because 
his father had parted with the half of all his 
goods and gear to his sister on her marriage 
with such a respectable man. The name of 
the murderer is said to be Annand, a name I 
believe merely conjectural from the name of 
the place where they are said both to be bur- 
ied, which at this day is called Annan's Treat, 
a low muir lying to the west of Yarrow church, 
where two huge tall stones are erected, below 
which the least child that can walk the road 
will tell you the two lords are buried that 
were slain in a duel." 

Sir Walter Scott, in the revised edition of 
his Minstrelsy, expressed a conviction that 
this ballad referred to a duel fought between -^^ 
John Scott of Tushielaw and his brother-in- 

is slain, and he is thrown into the Tarrow. It is a qnestion / 
whether Hamilton's ballad did not affect tradition in the case j 
of J, K, L, particularly L. The editorial Douglas in A 11 
is from Hamilton 24. ' Wi her tears she bathed his wounds,' 
I 1 33, looks like Hamilton 9^. The 'dule and sorrow 'of 
O 42 is a recurring phrase in Hamilton, and ' slain the come- 
liest swain ' O 4', is in Hamilton 6^. 

In Hamilton's ballad the slayer of the lover endeavors to 
induce the lady to marry him, as is done in the Icelandic 
ballad spoken of under No 89, II, 297 f. 

A song by Ramsay, T. T. M., Dublin, 1729, p. 139, has 
nearly the same fir.'-t four lines as Hamilton's ballad, and 
these have been thought to be traditional. 



164 



214. THE BRAES O YAKROW 



law Walter Scott of Thirlestane, in wliicli 
the latter was slain.* Contemporary entries 
in the records of the Presbytery of Selkirk 
show that John Scott, son to Walter of Tush- 
ielaw, killed Walter Scott, brother of Sir 
)> I Robert of Thirlestane, in 1609. The slain 
Walter Scott was not, however, the brother- 
in-law of John of Tushielaw, for his wife was 
a daughter of Sir Patrick Porteous. A violent 
feud ensued, as might be expected, between 
the Scotts of Thirlestane and of Tushielaw. 
> Seven years later, in 1616, a Walter Scott of 
Tushielaw made " an informal and inordi- 
nat marriage with Grizel Scott of Thirlestane 
without consent of her father." The record 
of the elopement is three months after fol- 
lowed by an entry of a summons to Simeon 
Scott of Bonytoun (an adherent of Thirlestane) 
and three other Scotts " to compear in Melrose 
to hear themselves excommunicat for the hor- 
rible slaughter of Walter Scott " [of Tushie- 
law]. Disregarding the so-called duel, we 
have a Walter Scott of Tushielaw carrying off 
a wife from the Scotts of Thirlestane, with 
which family he was at feud ; and a Walter 
Scott of Tushielaw horribly slaughtered by 
Scotts of Thirlestane. These facts correspond 
rather closely with the incidents of the bal- 
lad. We do not know, to be sure, that the 
two Walter Scotts of Tushielaw were the same 
person. There were Walter Scotts many ; but 
tradition is capable of confounding the two or 
the three connected with this series of events. 
On the other hand, there is nothing in the 
ballad to connect it preferably with the 
Scotts; the facts are such as are likely to 



have occurred often in history, and a similar 
story is found in other ballads. 

In the Scandinavian ballad ' Herr Helmer,' 
Helmer has married a lady whose family are 
at feud with him for the unatoned slaughter 
of her uncle; he meets her seven brothers, 
who will now hear of no satisfaction ; there is 
a fight ; Helmer kills six, but spares the 
seventh, who treacherously kills him : Afze- 
lius, ed. Bergstrom, I, 264, Arwidsson, I, 155 
(etc., see II, 170 of this collection, note J). 
Other forms make the last of the brothers 
willing to accept an arrangement : ' Herr Hel- 
mer Blau,' Dauske Viser, IV, 251, No 209, 
' Herr Hjselm,' Grundtvig, Danske Folkemin- 
der, 1861, p. 81. ' Jomf ruen i Skoven,' Danske 
Viser, III, 99, No 123, has also several fea- 
tures of our ballad. The hero, on parting 
from a lady with whom he has passed the 
night in a wood, is warned by her to avoid 
her seven brothers. This he is too brave to do, 
and he meets them. They ask him where are 
his hawk and his hound. He tries, unsuccess- 
fully, to induce them to give him their sister 
for wife ; they fight ; he kills all the seven 
brothers, and is slain himself, in some way not 
explained. (These ballads are translated in 
Prior, III, 371, 230.) 

The next ballad has been partially con- 
fused with this. 

B b, Scott's ballad, is translated by Doen- 
niges, p. 237 ; by Lo^ve-Veimars, p. 347. 
Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, 
p. 92, translates AUingham's ballad. 



Communicated to Percy by Dr William Robertson, Prin- 
cipal of Edinburgh. 

1 ' I DREAMED a dreary dream this night, 
That fills my heart wi sorrow ; 
I dreamed I was pouing the heather green 
Upon the braes of Yarrow. 

* Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 144. For a criticism of Sir 
Walter Scott's remarks and a correction of some errors, 
with much new information, see Mr T. Craig-Brown's 



2 ' O true-luve mine, stay stiU and dine, 

As ye ha done before, O ; ' 
* O I '11 be hame by hours nine, 
And frae the braes of Yarrow.' 

3 I dreamed a dreary dream this night, 

That fills my heart wi sorrow ; 



History of Selkirkshire, Edinburgh, 1886, 1, 14-16, 311-15, 
of which work grateful use is here made. 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



165 



I dreamed my luve came headless hame, 
frae the braes of Yarrow I 

4 * O true-luve mme, stay still and dine, 
As ye ha done before, O ; ' 
' O I '11 be hame by hours nine, 
And frae the braes of Yarrow.' 

6 * O are ye going to hawke,' she says, 

* As ye ha done before, O ? 
Or are ye going to weild your brand, 
Upon the braes of Yarrow ? ' 

6*01 am not going to hawke,' he says, 
' As I have done before, O, 
But for to meet your brother Jhon, 
Upon the braes of Yarrow.' 

7 As he gade down yon dowy den. 

Sorrow went him before, O ; 
Nine well-wight men lay waiting him. 
Upon the braes of Yarrow. 

8 * I have your sister to my wife, 

' Ye ' think me an unmeet marrow ; 
But yet one foot will I never flee 
Now frae the braes of Yarrow.' 

9 ' Than ' four he kUld and five did wound, 

That was an unmeet marrow ! 
* And he had weel nigh wan the day 
Upon the braes of Yarrow.' 



10 ' Bot ' a cowardly * loon ' came him behind, 

Our Lady lend him sorrow ! 
And wi a rappier pierced his heart. 
And laid him low on Yarrow. 

11 * Now Douglas ' to his sister 's gane, 

Wi meikle dale and sorrow : 
* Gae to your luve, sister,' he says, 
' He 's sleeping sound on Yarrow.' 

12 As she went down yon dowy den, 

Sorrow went her before, O ; 

She saw her true-love lying slain 

Upon the braes of Yarrow. 

13 ' She swoond thrice upon his breist 

That was her dearest marrow ; 
Said, Ever alace and wae the day 
Thou wentst frae me to Yarrow ! ' 

14 She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair, 

As she had done before, O ; 
She ' wiped ' the blood that trickled doun 
Upon the braes of Yarrow. 

15 Her hair it was three quarters lang, 

It hang baith side and yellow ; 
She tied it round ' her ' white hause-bane, 
' And tint her life on Yarrow.* 



B 



Murison MS., p. 105 ; Old Deer, Aberdeenshire. 

1 Three lords sat drinking at the wine 
I the bonny braes o Yarrow, 
An there cam a dispute them between. 
Who was the Flower o Yarrow. 



Or will ye try the weel airmt sword, 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow ? * 

4 * I winna try hearts, I winna try bans, 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow, 
But I will try the weel airmt sword, 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.' 



2 * I 'm wedded to your sister dear. 
Ye coont nae me your marrow ; 
I stole her fae her father's back. 

An made her the Flower o Yarrow.* 



' Ye '11 stay at home, my own good lord, 
Ye '11 stay at home tomorrow ; 

My brethren three they will slay thee, 
I the bonaie braes o Yarrow. ' 



8 * Will ye try hearts, or will ye try bans, 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow ? 



6 ' Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun. 
An early sings the sparrow ; 



166 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



Before the clock it will strike nine 
An I 'U be home tomorrow.' 

7 She 's kissed his mouth, an combed his hair, 

As she had done before, ; 
She 's dressed him in his noble bow, 
An he 's awa to Yarrow. 

8 As he gaed up yon high, high hill, 

An doon the dens o Yarrow, 
An there he spied ten weel airmt men 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow. 

9 It 's five he wounded, an five he slew, 

I the bonnie braes o Yarrow ; 

There cam a squire out o the bush. 

An pierced his body thorough. 

10 ' I dreamed a dream now sin the streen, 

God keep us a' f ae sorrow ! 
That my good lord was sleepin soun 
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.' 

11 ' hold your tongue, my daughter dear, 

An tak it not in sorrow ; 



I '11 wed you wi as good a lord 

As you 've lost this day in Yarrow.' 

12 ' O haud your tongue, my father dear, 

An wed your sons wi sorrow ; 
For a fairer flower ueer sprang in May nor 
June 
Nor I 've lost this day in Yarrow.' 

13 Fast did she gang, fast did she rin. 

Until she cam to Yarrow, 
An there she fan her own good lord, 
He was sleepin soun in Yarrow. 

14 She 's taen three lachters o her hair, 

That hung doon her side sae bonny. 
An she 's tied them roon his middle tight, 
An she 's carried him hame frae Yar- 



15 This lady being big wi child, 

She was f u o grief an sorrow ; 
Her heart did break, and then she died, 
She did not live till morrow. 



Motherwell's MS., pp. 334, 331, from the recitation of 
Agnes Lile, Kilbarchan, July 19, 1825; learned from her 
father, who died fourteen years earlier, at the age of eighty. 

1 Theee were three lords birling at the wine 

On the dowie downs o Yarrow ; 

They made a compact them between 

They would go fight tomorrow. 

2 * Thou took our sister to be thy bride, 

And thou neer thocht her thy marrow ; 
Thou stealed her frae her daddie's back, 
When she was the rose o Yarrow.' 

3 * Yes, I took your sister to be my bride, 

And I made her my marrow ; 
I stealed her frae her daddie's back, 
And she 's still the rose o Yarrow.' 

4 He is hame to his lady gane. 

As he had dune before ! O ; 
Says, Madam, I must go and fight 
On the dowie downs o Yarrow. 



5 'Stay at hame, my lord,' she said, 

' For that will cause much sorrow ; 
For my brethren three they will slay thee. 
On the dowie downs o Yarrow.' 

6 ' Hold your tongue, my lady fair, 

For what needs a' this sorrow ? 
For I '11 be hame gin the clock strikes nine, 
From the dowie downs o Yarrow.' 

7 She wush his face, she kamed his hair, 

As she had dune before, O ; 
She dressed him up in his armour clear, 
Sent him furth to fight on Yarrow. 

8 * Come you here to hawk or hound. 

Or drink the wine that 's so clear, O ? 

Or come you here to eat in your words, 

That you 're not the rose o Yarrow ? ' 

9 * I came not here to hawk or hound. 

Nor to drink the wine that 's so clear, O ; 
Nor I came not here to eat in my words, 
For I 'm still the rose o Yarrow.' 



aii. THE BRAKS O YAKKOW 



167 



10 Then they a' begoud to fight, 

I wad they focht richt sore, O, 
Till a cowardly man came behind his back, 
And pierced his body thorough. 

11 * Gae harae, gae hame, it 's my man John, 

As ye have done before, O, 
And tell it to my gay lady 

That I soundly sleep on Yarrow.' 

12 His man John he has gane hame, 

As he had dune before, O, 
And told it to his gay lady, 

That he soundly slept on Yarrow. 

13 ' I dreamd a dream now since the streen, 

God keep us a' frae sorrow ! 
That my lord and I was pu'ing the heather 
green 
From the dowie downs o Yarrow.' 



14 Sometimes she rade, sometimes she gaed. 

As she had dune before, O, 
And aye between she fell in a soune, 
Lang or she cam to Yarrow. 

15 Her hair it was five quarters lang, 

'T was like the gold for yellow ; 
She twisted it round his milk-whito hand, 
And she 's drawn him hame from Yarrow. 

16 Out and spak her father dear, 

Says, What needs a' this sorrow ? 
For I '11 get you a far better lord 
Than ever died on Yarrow. 

17 ' O hold your tongue, father,' she said, 

' For ye 've bred a' my sorrow ; 
For that rose '11 neer spring sae sweet in 
May 
As that rose I lost on Yarrow.' 



Communicated to Percy by Robert Lambe, Norham, April 
16, 1768. 

1 There were three lords drinking of wine 

On the bonny braes of Yarrow ; 
There fell a combat them between, 
Wha was the rose of Yarrow. 

2 Up then spak a noble lord, 

And I wot it was hot sorrow : 
* I have as fair a flower,' he said, 

* As ever sprang on Yarrow.' 

3 Then he went hame to his ain house, 

For to sleep or the morrow, 
But the first sound the trumpet gae 
"Was, Mount and haste to Yarrow. 

4 ' Oh stay at hame,' his lady said, 

* Oh stay untill the morrow. 
And I will mount upon a steed, 

And ride with you to Yarrow.' 

6 ' Oh hawd your tongue, my dear,' said he, 
*■ And talk not of the morrow ; 
This day I have to fight again. 
In the dowy deans of Yarrow.' 



6 As he went up yon high, high hill, 

Down the dowy deans of Yarrow, 
There he spy'd ten weel armd men, 
There was nane o them his marrow. 

7 Five he wounded and five he slew, 

In the dowy deans of Yarrow, 
But an English-man out of a bush 
Shot at him a lang sharp arrow. 

8 * Ye may gang hame, my brethren three, 

Ye may gang hame with sorrow. 
And say this to my fair lady, 
I am sleeping sound on Yarrow.' 

9 * Sister, sister, I dreamt a dream — 

You read a dream to gude, O ! 
That I was puing the heather green 
On the bonny braes of Yarrow.' 

10 * Sister, sister, I '11 read your dream, 

But alas ! it 's unto sorrow ; 
Your good lord is sleeping sound. 
He is lying dead on Yarrow.* 

11 She as pu'd the ribbons of her head, 

And I wot it was wi sorrow, 
And she 's gane up yon high, high hill, 
Down the dowy deans of Yarrow. 



168 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



12 Her hair it was five quarters lang, 

The colour of it was yellow ; 
She as ty'd it round his middle jimp, 
And she as carried him frae Yarrow. 

13 ' hawd your tongue ! ' her father says, 

* What needs a' this grief and sorrow ? 
I '11 wed you on as fair a flower 
As ever sprang on Yarrow.' 



14 ' No, hawd your tongue, my father dear, 

I 'm fow of grief and sorrow ; 
For a fairer flower ne[v]er sprang 
Than I 've lost this day on Yarrow.' 

15 This lady being big wi bairn, 

And fow of grief and sorrow, 
She as died within her father's arms, 
And she died lang or the morrow. 



E 



a. In the handwriting of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shep- 
herd, about 1801 ; now in a volume with the title "Scotch 
Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 136, Abbots- 
ford, b. Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 72, 1803, III, 143, 1833. 

1 Late at een, drinkin the wine, 

Or early in a mornin. 
The set a combat them between, 
To fight it in the dawnin. 

2 *■ O stay at hame, my noble lord ! 

O stay at hanie, my marrow ! 
My cruel brother will you betray, 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.' 

3 ' O fare ye weel, my lady gaye ! 

fare ye weel, my Sarah ! 
For I maun gae, tho I neer return 

Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow.' 

4 She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair, 

As she had done before, O ; 
She belted on his noble brand, 
An he 's awa to Yarrow. 

6 O he 's gane up yon high, high hill — 

1 wat he gaed wi sorrow — 

An in a den spied nine armd men, 
I the dowy houms o Yarrow. 

6 ' ir ye come to drink the wine. 

As ye hae doon before, O ? 
Or ir ye come to wield the brand, 
On the bonny banks o Yarrow ? ' 

7 * I im no come to drink the wine. 

As I hae don before, O, 
But I im come to wield the brand. 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.' 



8 Four he hurt, an five he slew, 

On the dowy houms o Yarrow, 
Till that stubborn knight came him be- 
hind. 
An ran his body thorrow. 

9 ' Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John, 

An tell your sister Sarah 
To come an lift her noble lord. 
Who 's sleepin sound on Yarrow.' 

10 * Yestreen I dreamd a dolefu dream ; 

I kend there wad be sorrow ; 
I dreamd I pu'd the heather green. 
On the dowy banks o Yarrow.' 

11 She gaed up yon high, high hill — 

I wat she gaed wi sorrow — 
An in a den spy'd nine dead men. 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow. 

12 She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair, 

As oft she did before, O ; 
She drank the red blood frae him ran. 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow. 

13 ' O hand your tongue, my douchter dear, 

For what needs a' this sorrow ? 
I '11 wed you on a better lord 
Than him you lost on Yarrow.' 

14 ' O baud your tongue, my father dear, 

An dinna grieve your Sarah ; 
A better lord was never born 
Than him I lost on Yarrow. 

15 ' Tak hame your ousen, tak hame your kye, 

For they hae bred our sorrow ; 
I wiss that they had a' gane mad 
Whan they cam first to Yarrow.' 



^^ 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



169 



"From Nelly Laidlaw." In the handwriting of William 
Laidlaw, " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
No 20 a, Abbotsford. 

1 Late in the eenin, drinkin the wine, 

Or early in the mornin, 
The set a combat them between, 
To fight it out i the dawnin. 

2 She 's kissd his lips, an she 's caimd his hair, 

As she did ay afore, O, 
She 's belted him in his noble brown, 
Afore he gaed to Yarrow. 

3 Then he 's away oer yon high hill — 

A wait he 's gane wi sorrow — 
An in a den he spied nine armd men, 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow. 



8 * I dreamd a dream now sin yestreen, 

I thought it wad be sorrow ; 
I thought I was pouin the hether green 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.' 

9 Then she 's away oer yon high hill — 

I wat she 's gane wi sorrow — 
And in a den she 's spy'd ten slain men. 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow. 

10 * My love was a' clad oer last night 

Wi the finest o the tartan, 
But now he 's a' clad oer wi red. 
An he 's red bluid to the garten.' 

11 She 's kissd his lips, she 's caimd his hair, 

As she had done before, O ; 
She drank the red bluid that frae him ran, 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow. 



(X 



4 * If I see ye a', ye 'r nine for ane. 
But ane 's [unjequal marrow ; 
Yet as lang 's I 'm able wield my brand, 
I '11 fight an bear ye marrow. 

6 'There are twa swords into my sheath, 
The 're ane and equal marrow ; 
Now wale the best, I '11 take the warst. 
An, man for man, I '11 try ye.' 

6 He has slain a' the nine men, 
A ane an equal marrow. 
But up there startit a stuborn lord. 
That gard him sleep on Yarrow. 



12 * Tak hame your ousen, father, and yer 

kye, 
, For they 've bred muckle sorrow ; 
I wiss that they had a' gaen mad 
Afore they came to Yarrow.' 

13 ' O baud yer tongue, my daughter dear. 

For this breeds ay but sorrow ; 
I '11 wed you to a better lord 
Than him you lost on Yarrow.* 

14 * O baud yer tongue, my father dear, 

For ye but breed mair sorrow ; 
A better rose will never spring 
-^ Than him I 've lost on Yarrow.' 



7 ' Gae hame, gae hame, my sister Anne, 
An tell yer sister Sarah 
That she may gang an seek her lord, 
He 's lyin sleepin on Yarrow.' 



15 This lady being big wi child. 
An f u o lamentation. 
She died within her father's arms, 
Amang this stuborn nation. 



G 



" Carterhaugh, June 15, 1802." "Scotch Ballads, Mate- 
rials for Border Minstrelsy," No 135, Abbotsford. 



1 She kissd his mouth and she combd his hair. 

As she had done before, O, 
VOL. IV. 23 



She belted him in his noble broun, 
Before he went to Yarrow. 

2 O he 's gone up yon high, [high] hill — 
I wat it was with sorrow — 
In a den he spied nine weal armd men. 
On the bonny banks of Yarrow. 



170 



ai4. THE BBAES O YARROW 



3 * I see that you are nine for one, 

Which are of an unequal marrow ; 
As lang 's I 'm able to wield my bran, 
I '11 fight and be your marrow.' 

4 O he has killed them a' but one, 

Which bred to him great sorrow ; 
For up and rose that stubborn lord, 
Made him sleep sound in Yarrow. 

5 * Rise up, rise up, my daughter Ann, 

Go tell your sister Sarah 
She may rise up go lift her lord ; 
He 's sleeping sound in Yarrow.* 

6 She 's gone up yon high, high hill — 

I wat it was with sorrow — 
And in a den she spied nine slain men, 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow. 

7 O she kissed his mouth, and she combd his 

hair, 
As she had done before, ; 



She drank the bleed that from him ran, 
On the dowie banks o Yarrow. 

8 * Take hame your oxen, tak hame your kye. 

They 've bred to me great sorrow ; 
I wish they had all now gone mad 
First when they came to Yarrow.' 

9 ' O hold your tongue now, daughter dear. 

These words to me 's great sorrow ; 
I '11 wed you on a better lord 
Than you have lost on Yarrow.' 

10 ' hold your tongue now, father dear, 

These words to me 's great sorrow ; 
A brighter shall there never spread 
Than I have lost in Yarrow.' 

11 This lady being big with child. 

And full of lamentation. 
She died unto her father's arms, 
Among the stubborn nation. 



^/ 



H 

Campbell MSS, II, 55. 

1 'T WAS late at evening drinking wine, 
And early in the morning. 
He set a combat them among. 
And he fought it in the morning. 



2 * I have two swords by my side, 

They cost me both gold and money ; 
Take ye the best, I '11 take the worst, 
Come man for man, I '11 try ye.' 

3 He has foughten them all round, 

His equal man and marrow. 
While up bespake the stubborn lord, 
* He 's made them sleep in Yarrow.' 

4 He says. Go home, my daughter Ann, 

And tell your sister Sarah 
To come and lift her stubborn lord ; 
The lad 's made him sleep in Yarrow. 

5 As she gaed up yon high, high hill, 

I wot she gaed right sorrow, 



And in a den spied nine well armd men, 
In the dowie dens of Yarrow. 

6 * My love was dressd in the finest robes, 

And of the finest tartan. 
And now he 's a' clad oer wi red, 
He 's bloody to the gartan ! ' 

7 ' O hold yer tongue, daughter ! ' he says, 

* That would breed but sorrow ; 
Ye shall be wed to a finer lord 

Than the one you 've lost in Yarrow.' 

8 ' Hold your tongue, father ! ' she says, 

* For that will breed but sorrow ; 
A finer lord can neer be born 

Than the one I 've lost in Yarrow. 

9 * Take hame yer ox, and take hame yer kye, 

You 've bred me muckle sorrow ; 

I wish they 'd a' gane mad that day. 

That day they came to Yarrow.* 

10 This woman being big wi child, 
And full of lamentation, 
She died into her father's arms, 
Among that stubborn nation. 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



171 



Buchan's MSS, II, 161. 

1 Ten lords sat drinking at the wine 

Intill a morning early ; 
There fell a combat them among, 
It must be fought, nae parley. 

2 * stay at hame, my ain gude lord ! 

stay, my ain dear marrow ! ' 
* Sweetest min, I will be thine. 
An dine wi you tomorrow.' 

3 She kissd his lips, an combed his hair, 

As she had done before 0, 
Gied him a brand down by his side, 
An he is on to Yarrow. 

4 As he gaed oer yon dowey knowe, 

As he had dane before 0, 

Nine armed men lay in a den, 

Upo the braes o Yarrow. 

6 * O came ye here to hunt or hawk. 
As ye hae dane before O ? 
Or came ye here to wiel your brand, 
Upo the braes o Yarrow ? ' 

6 * I came nae here to hunt nor hawk. 

As I hae done before 0; 
But I came here to wiel my brand, 
Upo the braes o Yarrow.' 

7 Four he hurt, an five he slew, 

Till down it fell himsell O ; 
There stood a fause lord him behin. 
Who thrust his body thorrow. 

8 * Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John, 

An tell your sister sorrow ; 
Your mither woud come take up her son, 
A£E o the braes o Yarrow.' 



9 As he gaed oer yon high, high hill. 
As he had dane before O, 
There he met his sister dear, 
Came rinnin fast to Yarrow. 

10 * I dream d a dream last night,' she says, 

* I wish it binna sorrow ; 

I dreamd I was puing the heather green 
Upo the braes o Yarrow.' 

11 * I '11 read your dream, sister,' he says, 

* I '11 read it into sorrow ; 

•Ye 're bidden gae take up your luve, 
He 's sleeping sound on Yarrow.' 

12 She 's torn the ribbons f rae her head — 

They were baith thick an narrow — 
She 's kilted up her green claithing, 
An she 's awa to Yarrow. 

13 She 's taen him in her arms twa, 

An gaen him kisses thorough, 
An wi her tears she bath'd his wounds, 
Upo the braes o Yarrow. 

14 Her father, looking oer the castle-wa, 

Beheld his daughter's sorrow ; 
* O had your tongue, daughter,' he says, 

* An lat be a' your sorrow ! 
I '11 wed you wi a better lord 

Than he that died on Yarrow.' 

15 ' had your tongue, father,' she says, 

' An lat be till tomorrow! 
A better lord there coudna be 
Than he that died on Yarrow.' 

16 She kissd his lips, an combd his hair. 

As she had done before 0, 
An wi a crack her head did brack, 
Upo the braes o Yarrow. 



172 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



Taken down from the singing of Marion Miller, in Threep- 
wood, in the parish of Melrose. In Thomas Wilkie's hand- 
writing, " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
No 107, Abbotsford. Another copy in Thomas Wilkie's 
MS., 1813-15, p. 57, No 67 of "Scotch Ballads," etc. 

1 In Thoro town there lives a maid, 

I am sure she has no marrow ; 
For she has forsaken both lords and knights, 
And loved a servant-lad in Galla. 

2 Evening and morning her page he ran. 

Her page he ran wi sorrow. 
With letters bound, just frae the town. 
To the servant-lad in Galla. 

3 Her father he got word of that, 

And he 's bred all her sorrow ; 

He sent him forth to fight wi nine, 

In the dowie glens of Yarrow. 

4 She washd his face, she combd his hair, 

She thought he had no marrow ; 
Wi a thrusty rapier by his side. 
She sent him forth to Yarrow. 

5 She 's taen fareweel of him that day, 

As she had done before, 0, 
And she 's comd back to her bonny bower. 
But her love 's away to Yarrow. 

6 He wanderd up, he wandred down. 

His heart was full of sorrow ; 
There he spied nine gentlemen, 
Watering their steeds in Yarrow. 

7 ' O come away, young man,' they said, 

' I 'm sure ye 'r no our marrow ; 
Ye 'r welcome here, young man,' they said, 
* For the bonny lass o Thorro.' 

8 ' Nine against one, weel do ye ken, 

That 's no an equal marrow ; 
Yet for my love's sake I '11 venture my life, 
In the dowie glens of Yarrow.* 

9 Five was wounded, and four was slain, 

Amongst them a' he had no marrow ; 
He 's mounted on his horse again. 

Cries, I have won the bonny lass of Thorro ! 



10 Up then spake her father dear — 

And he 's bred all her sororw — 
And wi a broad sword ran him through. 
In the dowie glens of Yarrow. 

11 * I have dreamd a dream, father, 

I doubt I have dreamd for sorrow ; 
I dreamd I was pouing the heather green 
Wi my true love in Yarrow.' 

12 ' O I will read your dream, daughter. 

Although it be for your sorrow ; 
Go, and ye '11 find your love lying sound. 
In a heather-bush in Yarrow.' 

13 She 's calld on her maidens then — 

Her heart was full of sorrow — 
And she 's away wi her maidens twa. 
To the dowie glens o Yarrow. 

14 She wandered up, she wandred down. 

In the dowie glens of Yarrow, 
And there she spied her love lying sound. 
In a heather-bush in Yarrow. 

16 She 's washd him in the clear well-strand, 
She 's dry'd him wi the hoUand, 
And aye she sighd, and said, Alass ! 
For my love I had him chosen. 

16 His hair it was three quarters long, 

Three quarters long and yellow ; 
And she 's rapt it round her middle small, 
And brought it home to Thorro. 

17 ' O hold your tongue, my daughter dear. 

And talk no more of sorrow ; 
I '11 soon wed you on a better match 
Thau your servant-lad in Galla.' 

18 ' O you may wed a' your seven sons, 

I wish you may wed them in sorrow : 
O you may wed a' your seven sons. 

For you '11 neer wed the bonny lass of 
Thoro.' 

19 This lady being big wi child. 

And her heart was full wi sorrow. 
She died between her father's arms, 
In the bonny house of Thorro. 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



173 



Campbell MS., I, 8; "communicated by Janet Ormstone, 
^ Innerleithen, who sung it to a beautiful old air." 

1 There lived a lady in the south, 

She thought she had not her marrow ; 
And she was courted by nine gentlemen, 
In the dowie dens in Yarrow. 

2 All their offers they proved in vain. 

She thought that they were not her marrow ; 
She has forsaken a' the nine, 
Loved a servant-lad on Galla. 

3 Up bespoke her father dear. 

Who bred them a' this sorrow ; 
You must go far, far to fight the nine. 
In the dowie den in Yarrow.' 

4 She washd his face, she combd his hair. 

Her heart being full of sorrow. 
With a rusted rapier down by his side, 
To fight his foes in Yarrow. 

5 He 's ridden east, he 's ridden west, 

He 's ridden into Yarrow, 
And there he espied aU the nine. 
Watering their steeds in Yarrow. 

6 ' Ye 'r welcome, welcome, young man,' they 

said, 
' But I think ye are not our marrow ; ' 
* But I '11 fight ye all out, one by one, 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.' 



7 Four he has wounded, five he has slain. 

He left them a' sound in Yarrow ; 
He turned him round with re joy full looks, 
Says, I wone the lady of Thoro. 

8 Up then spoke her father dear, 

Who bred them a' this sorrow ; 
He's taen out a broadsword and run him 
through. 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow. 

9 ' I dreamed a dream last night,' she says, 

' I fear it is for sorrow ; 
I dreamd I was pulling the heather green 
With my true love in Yarrow.' 

10 * I '11 read your dream now, daughter dear, 

I fear it is for sorrow ; 
You will find your true-love lying sound. 
In a heather bush in Yarrow.' 

11 She 's ridden east, she 's ridden west, 

She 's ridden into Yarrow ; 
There she found her true lover sound, 
In a heather bush in Yarrow. 

12 His hair it was five quarters lang. 

It was baith lang and yellow ; 
She 's tied it to her horse's mane, 

She 's trailed him home from Yarrow. 

13 * O woe be to you, father dear ! 

You 've bred me all this sorrow ; ' 
So she died between her father's arms. 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow. 



Blackwood's Magazine, CXLVII, 741, June, 1890; com- 
municated by Professor John Veitch, as received from Wil- 
liam Welsh, a Peeblesshire cottar and poet, born 1799, whose 
mother used to recite the ballad, and whose grandmother 
had a copy in her father's handwriting. 

1 At Dryhope lived a lady fair. 

The fairest flower in Yarrow, 
And she refused nine noble men 
For a servan lad in Gala. 

2 Her father said that he should fight 

The nine lords all to-morrow, 



And he that should the victor be 
Would get the Rose of Yarrow. 

3 Quoth he. You 're nine, an I 'm but ane. 

And in that there 's no much marrow ; 
Yet I shall fecht ye, man for man. 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow. 

4 She kissed his lips, and combed his hair, 

As oft she 'd done before, O, 
An set him on her milk-white steed, 
Which bore him on to Yarrow. 



174 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



5 "When he got oer yon high, high hill, 

An down the dens o Yarrow, 
There did he see the nine lords all, 
But there was not one his marrow. 

6 * Now here ye 're nine, an I 'm but ane, 

But yet I am not sorrow ; 
For here I '11 fecht ye, man for man, 
For my true love in Yarrow.' 

7 Then he wheeld round, and fought so fierce 

Till the seventh fell in Yarrow, 
When her brother sprang from a bush behind, 
And ran his body thorough. 

8 He never spoke more words than these, 

An they were words o sorrow ; 
* Ye may tell my true love, if ye please, 
That I 'm sleepin sound in Yarrow.' 

9 They 've taen the young man by the heels 

And trailed him like a harrow, 
And then they flung the comely youth 
In a whirlpool o Yarrow. 

10 The lady said, I dreamed yestreen — 

I fear it bodes some sorrow — 
That I was pu'in the heather green 
On the scroggy braes o Yarrow.* 

11 Her brother said, I '11 read your dream, 

But it should cause nae sorrow ; 
Ye may go seek your lover hame. 
For he 's sleepin sound in Yarrow. 

12 Then she rode oer yon gloomy height. 

An her heart was fu o sorrow, 
But only saw the clud o night, 
Or heard the roar o Yarrow. 



13 But she wandered east, so did she wast, 

And searched the forest thorough, 
Until she spied her ain true love, 
Lyin deeply drowned in Yarrow. 

14 His hair it was five quarters lang, 

Its colour was the yellow ; 
She twined it round her lily hand, 
And drew him out o Yarrow. 

15 She kissed his lips, and combed his head. 

As oft she 'd done before, ; 
She laid him oer her milk-white steed. 
An bore him home from Yarrow. 

16 She washed his wounds in yon well-strand. 

And dried him wi the hollan. 
And aye she sighed, and said, Alas ! 
For my love I had him chosen. 

17 ' Go hold your tongue,' her father said, 

' There 's little cause for sorrow ; 
I '11 wed ye on a better lad 
Than ye hae lost in Yarrow.' 

18 ' Hand your ain tongue, my faither dear, 

I canna help my sorrow ; 
A fairer flower neer sprang in May 
Than I hae lost in Yarrow. 

19 * I meant to make my bed f u wide, 

But you may make it narrow ; 
For now I 've nane to be my guide 
But a deid man drowned in Yarrow.' 

20 An aye she screighed, and cried Alas ! 

Till her heart did break wi sorrow, 
An sank into her faither's arms, 
Mang the dowie dens o Yarrow. 



M 



In the handwriting of James Hofrg, the Ettrick Shepherd 
(later than E a). " Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border 
Minstrelsy," No 11 a, Abbotsford. 

1 AT he sat, and ay he drank, 
An ay he counted the laying, 
An ay he drank to the lass'es health 
Was to meet him in the dawning. 



2 Up he gaes on yon high, high hill. 

An a wat he gaes wi sorrow, 
An in a den he spy'd nine well armd men, 
On the dowie banks of Yarrow. 

3 ' Oh woe be to young women's wit ! 

For the 've bred to me meikle sorrow ; 
She promisd for to meet me here. 
An she 's sent nine men to slay me. 



ai4. THE BEAES O YARROW 



175 



4 ' But there is two swords in my scabba[rd], 
They cost me gold and money ; 
Tak ye the best, and I '11 tak the wa[rst], 
An come man for man, I '11 not fly yo[u].' 

6 Ay he stood, an ay he fought, 
Till it was near the dawning, 
Then up an rose her brother James, 
An has slain him in the dawning. 

6 * the last night I dreamd a dream, 

God keep us a' f rae sorrow ! 
I dreamd I was powing the heather green 
In the dowie banks of Yarrow.' 

7 Up she gaes on yon high, high hill. 

An a wat she gaes with sorrow, 
An in a den she spy'd nine slain men, 
In the dowie banks of Yarrow. 



8 * the last time I saw my love 

He was a' clad oer in tartan ; 
But now he 's a' clad oer in red, 
An he 's a' blood to the gartin.' 

9 She kist his mouth, an she 's combd his hair, 

As she had done before, 0, 
She drank the blood that from him ran. 
In the dowie banks of Yarrow. 

10 * O hold your tongue now, daughter,' he says, 

* An breed to me no more sorrow ; 
For I '11 wed you on a better match 

Than you have lost on Yarrow.' 

11 ' Hold your tongue now, father,' she says, 

* An breed to me no more sorrow ; 
For a better rose will never spring 

Than I have lost on Yarrow.' 



N 



Commnnicated to Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, 
London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, No 189); presumably 
learned by her at Longnewton, near Jedburgh. " Scotch 
Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 84, Abbots- 
ford. 

1 The cock did craw, and the day did daw, 

And the moon shone fair and clearly ; 
Sir James gade out o his castle-yett, 
To meet fair Anne, his dearie. 

2 ' come down, come down, my true-love Anne, 

And speak but ae word to me ! 
But ae kiss o your bonny mouth 
Wad yield much comfort to me.' 

3 * how can I come down ? ' she says, 

* Or how can I win to thee ? 
When there is nane that I can trust 
Wad safe convey me to thee. 

4 ' But gang doun, gang doun, to yon hostess' 

house. 
And there take on yere lawing. 
And, as I 'm a woman kind and true, 
I '11 meet you at the dawing.' 

5 Then he gade thro the good green-wood. 

And oer the moor sae eerie, 



And lang he stayd, and sair he sighd. 
But he never mair saw his dearie. 

6 And ay he sat, and lang he drank, 

And ay he counted his lawing, 
Till fifteen men did him surround, 
To slay him or the dawing. 

7 ' O she promisd ance to meet me this night. 

But I find she has deceived me ; 
She promisd ance to meet me this night, 
And she 's sent fifteen to slay me ! 

8 ' There are twa swords in my scabard. 

They cost me gowd and money ; 
Take ye the best, and gie me the warst, 
And man for man I '11 try ye.' 

9 Then they fought on, and on they fought. 

Till maist o them were fallen. 
When her brother John cam him behind. 
And slew him at the dawing. 

10 Then he 's away to his sister Anne, 

To the chamber where 's she 's lying : 
* Come doun, come doun, my sister Anne, 
And take up your true-love Jamie ! 

11 * Come doun, come doun now, sister Anne ! 

For he 's sleeping in yon logie; 



176 



214. THE BRAES O YABROW 



Sound, sound he sleeps, nae mair to wake, 
And nae mair need ye be vogie.' 

12 * I dreamd a drearie dream yestreen, 

Gin it be true, it will prove my sorrow ; 
I dreamd my luive had lost his life. 
Within the yetts o Gowrie. 

13 ' O wae betide ye, lassies o Gowrie 

For ye hae sleepit soundly ; 
Gin ye had keepit your yetts shut, 

Ye might hae sav'd the life o my Jamie. 

14 ' Yestreen my luive had a suit o claise 

Were o the finest tartan ; 



But lang or ere the day did daw 
They war a' red bluid to the garten. 

15 * Yestreen my luive had a suit o claise 

Were o the apple reamin ; 
But lang or ere the day did daw 
The red bluid had them streamin.' 

16 In yon fair ha, where the winds did blaw. 

When the moon shone fair and clearly. 
She 's thrawn her green skirt oer her head. 
And ay she cried out mercy. 



Herd's MSS, I, 35, II, 181. 

1 ' I DREAMT) a dreary dream last night, 

God keep us a' frae sorrow ! 
I dreamd I pu'd the birk sae green 
Wi my true luve on Yarrow.' 

2 ' I '11 read your dream, my sister dear, 

I '11 tell you a' your sorrow ; 
You pu'd the birk wi your true luve, 
He 's killd, he 's killd on Yarrow ! * 



3 * O gentle wind, that blaweth south 

To where my love repaireth. 
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth, 
And tell me how he f areth ! 

4 ' But oer yon glen run armed men. 

Have wrought me dule and sorrow ; 
They 've slain, they 've slain the comliest swain, 
He bleeding lies on Yarrow.' 



Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, 11,196, the seventh 
and tenth stanzas ; sent by Burns to William Tytler in 1790. 

1 * Get up, get up now, sister Ann, 
I fear we 've wrought you sorrow ; 
Get up, ye '11 find your true love slain. 
Among the banks of Yarrow.' 



2 * I made my love a suit of clothes, 
I clad him all in tartan. 
But ere the morning sun arose. 
He was a' bluid to the gartan.' 



A. The words in ' ' are so distinguished in the 
MS., and are of course emendations. 
* Than,' 9^, is obviously an insertion / ' Now 
Douglas,' 11^, is entirely unauthorized, and, 
as before said, is taken from Hamilton's 
ballad; 'wiped,' 14', is jprobahly substi- 



tuted for drank, cf. 12', etc. ; and * her,* 
15', is very likely to have been his. 

B. 12^ Var. O father dear, I pray forbear. 

C. 7^ He. V. SHe, originally He. 

9^''. a in came is not closed ; possibly cume. 



214. THE BRAES O YARROW 



177 



A few changes were, as usual, made by Moth- 
erwell in 'printing. 
D. 1*. Wha is blotted. 

B. b. A minute collation of a copy constructed by 
Scott would be useless and deceptive, and 
therefore only the larger variations will be 
noted. 
1'. And ere they paid the lawing. 
5^. As he gaed up the Tennies bank. 
6^'*. come ye here to part your land, 

The bonnie forest thorough. 
7^*'. I come not here to part my land, 
And neither to beg nor borrow. 

After 7 : 

If I see all, ye 're nine to ane, {Cf P 4^) 

And that 's an unequal marrow ; {Cf. G 3'.) 
Yet will I fight while lasts my brand, 

{Cf P 48, G 3».) 

On the bonny banks of Yarrow. ( (7/*. E a 6*.) 

10*. "Wi my true love, on Yarrow. {Cf.O 1*.) 
After 10, two stanzas which are nearly O 3, 4. 
118. ten slain men. {Cf P O^.) 
12^*. She searchd his wounds all thorough ; 

She kissd them till her lips grew red. 
13'. For a' this breeds but sorrow. {Cf.¥lZ\) 
14*. Ye mind me but of sorrow. 
148'*. A fairer rose did never bloom 

Than now lies croppd on Yarrow. 
{Cf M ll"'*.) 
Scott gives in a note, III, 79, 1803, " the last 
stanza, as {since?) it occurs in most copies." 
{Cf P, G, H.) 

That lady, being big with child. 

And full of consternation. 
She swooned in her father's arms, 

Amidst that stubborn nation. 

F. 2'. browns, and so again G 1^. A derivation 
from bruny, mail-coat, is scarcely to be 
thought of. Apparently a corruption of 
brand, {cf. E 4') ; but brand occurs in P 4', 
G3». 

Q. 1'. before him. 1*. and his noble brouns. 
10». shalt. 

H. 3, 4. The stubborn lord in 3' is the wife's fa- 
ther, and the race, or family, is stubborn 
according to 10. Stubborn folk think op- 
posers stubborn, no dotibt ; still the epithet 
is unlikely in 4*. Lad / suppose to refer 

VOL. IV. 23 



to the TTian who in tTie other versions stabs 
from behind. 

5*. dern for den. The nine men must be 
dead, as in E 11, P 9, G 6. The well 
armd belongs to an earlier {lost) stanza, 
corresponding ^o E 5, P 3, G 2. 
I. Variations in BucharCs printed copy : 

1\ Ten lords. The lords in my copy of the 
MS., but, as Dixon has also Ten, I presume 
The to be an error. Otherwise I should 
have read Th[re]e, as in B, C, D. 

4?. As aft he'd. 

7*. thrust him thro body and mell, O. 

8*. mother to. 14*. ower his. 
J. The first copy seems to be the earlier, and that 
which was transcribed into the MS. to have 
been slightly edited, but the variations are 
few, mostly spellings. The first copy has 
no title. The title of the second is altered 
from The Braes of Yarrow to The Dowie 
Glens of Yarrow. At the end of the second 
is this note : This song I took down from 
Marion MiUer in Threepwood, in the Parish 
of Melrose. The air was plaintive and ex- | \^ 
tremely wild. I consider this song more ' 
valuable on account that Mem had never 
sung it to any but myself for fifteen years, 
and she had almost said, or rather prom- 
ised, that she would never sing it to another. • 

Thoro, 1^, etc., is spelt Thorough, Thorrough, 
in the first copy. Thorough, Thorrough, 
Thorro, Thoro, in the second; but in the 
latter ugh is struck out wherever it occurs. 

4'. thrusty, in both ; i. e., trusty. 

11'. the (birks) heather green, in both. 

First. 5% n\ 18K oh. Oh. 

Second. 5\ What she had neer done before, O. 

6^ 192. was filled wi. 

9^ Five he. 9''. nae. 9". steed. 

12'. to your. 

18'. wi for in. 
K. 3*. far far should probably be forth, as in J ; 

possibly forth for. 
L. 12*'*, 13^''. Compare Logan's Braes of Yarrow. 

They sought him east, they sought him west, 
They sought him all the forest thorough ; 

They only saw the cloud of night 
They only heard the roar of Yarrow. 

O. " A fragment, to the tune of Leaderhaughs and ^^ 
Yarrow." 



178 



215. BAItE WILLIE PBOWNED IN YABBOW, OB, THE WATER O GAMBIE 



215 

RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER 

GAMRIE 



A. * Willy 's rare and Willy 's fair,' Thomson's Or- 
pheus Caledonius, II, 110, 1733. 

B. a. Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 196. 
b. Stenhouse, Musical Museum, 1853, lY, 464. 

C. ' The Dowie Dens o Yarrow,' Gibb MS., p. 37. 

D. Skene MS., p. 47. 



E. * Willie 's drowned in Gamery,' Buchan's Ballads of 
the North of Scotland, I, 245. 

P. 'The Water o Gamery,' Buchan's MSS, II, 159. 
Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient 
Ballads, p. 66, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 

G. ♦ The Water o Ganrie,' Motherwell's MS., p. 637. / 



H. * The Water o Gemrie,' Campbell MSS, II, 78. 



A WAS inserted in the fourth volume of The 
Tea-Table Miscellany, and stands in the edi- 
tion of 1763 at p. 321, ' Rare Willie drowned 
in Yarrow,' It is given in Herd's Ancient 
and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 197 (with 
two or three trifling changes) ; in Johnson's 
Museum, p. 542, No 525. P is epitomized 
in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 66, 
" with some changes from the way the editor 
has heard it sung." 

The fragment in Cromek's Select Scotish 
Songs, 1810, II, 196, sent by Burns in a letter 
to William Tytler, 1790, belongs, as already 
said, mostly with ' The Duke of Athole's 
Nurse,' but has two stanzas of ' Willie drowned 
in Yarrow ' (B). 

*The Braes of Yarrow,' Ritson's Scotish 
Song, I, 154, composed upon the story of this 
ballad by the Rev. John Logan (1748-88), 
has two of the original lines (nearly) : 

They sought him east, they sought him west, 
They sought him all the forest thorough. 

* Buchan's note to E is, for a wonder, to the purpose. 
With his usual simplicity, he informs us that " the unfortu- 
nate hero of this ballad was a factor to the laird of Kin- 
mundy." He then goes on to say : "As the young woman 
to whom he was to be united in connubial wedlock resided 
in Gamery, a small fishing-town on the east coast of the 
Murray Frith, the marriage was to be solemnized in the 
church of that parish ; to which he was on his way when over- 
taken by some of the breakers which overflow a part of the 



.V^ 



Willie is drowned in Yarrow according to ^^ 
the older (southern) tradition, A; also B, O. \ 
In the northern copies, D, E, F, with which G, 
H, agree, the scene is transferred to Gamrie, on 
the coast of the Moray Frith, where, as Christie 
remarks, " there is no water that Willie could 
have been drowned in but the sea, oh his way 
along the sands to the old kirk." * In the 
ballad which follows this, a western variety 
of the same story, Willie is drowned in the 
Clyde. 

2, 3, 5, 6, belong to the preceding ballad, 
and 4 is common to that and this. 

A 2 would come in better at the end of 
the story (as it does in 0, a copy of slight 
authority), if it might properly find a place 
anywhere in the ballad. But this stanza suits 
only a woman who has been for some time 
living with her husband. A woman on her 
wedding-day could have no call to make her 
bed broad in her mother's house, whether 
yestreen or the morrow. I therefore conclude 
that A 2 does not belong to this ballad.f 

road he had to pass, and dash with impetuous fury against 
the lofty and adamantine rocks wiih which it is skirted." 
I, 315. 

t Professor Veitch has remarked on the incongruous- 
ness of this stanza in Blackwood's Magazine, June, 1890, 
p. 739 ff. Something like it, but adjusted to the circum- 
stances of a maid, occurs in the ballad which he there 
prints as the " Original Ballad of the Dowie Dens." See 
No 214, p. 174, L 19. 



215. RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE 



179 



D-H. Rare Willie has promised to marry 
Meggie, E (also A, C, D). His mother would 
give her the wale of all her other sons, but 
not Willie; she will have him only; D, B 
(cf. G 1). The bridegroom, with a large 
company, is mounted to ride for the bride; he 
tells his friends to go forward, he has forgotten 
to ask his mother's blessing ; D, B, P, H. He 
receives the blessing, D, P, H ; her blessing 
goes not with him, G ; he gets her heavy 
curse, B ; even in P his mother, after giving 
her blessing, says that he will never see his 
wedding. (The mother's curse is the charac- 
teristic feature of the next following ballad.) 
The bridal party come to the river, or burn, 
of Gamrie; all the others pass the stream 
safely, buL Willie is washed from his saddle, 
D-H. The rest ride on to the kiik of Gamrie. 
The bride asks where is the man who was to 
marry her, and is told that Willie is drowned. 
She tears the ribbons from her hair and runs 
to the river, plunges in, and finds Willie in the 
deepest pot, the middle, the deepest weil. She 
will make her bed with him in Gamrie ; both 
mothers shall be alike sorry ; D-G. 

In H, Willie's horse comes home with an 



empty saddle. His mother is sure that her son 
is dead ; her daughter tries in vain to persuade 
her that all is well ; Meggie takes her lover's 
body from the river and lays it on the grass ; 
she will sleep with him in the same grave at 
Gamrie. 

In A, B, the drowned body is found in the 
cleft of a rock, the clifting or clintin of a 
craig ; in 4 neath a buss of brume, that 
stanza belonging, as most of the copy does, 
to the preceding ballad ; cf. J 14, K 11 of No 
214. The bride ties three links of her hair, 
which is three quarters long, round Willie's 
waist, and draws him out of the water, B 2, 
5 ; for the hair, cf. No 214, where also it is 
not advantageously used. The bride's tearing 
the ribbons from her head, D 12, B 15, P 8, 
G 7, H 14, is found also in No 214, D 11, 1 12, 
but is inappropriate there. A brother, brother 
John, whether the man's or the woman's, tells 
the bad news in No 214, A 11, E 9, 1 8, L 11, 
N 9, 10, as here D 11, B 14, P 7, G 6, H 13. 

' Annan Water,' a ballad in which a lover is 
drowned on his way to visit his mistress, is 
given in an appendix. 



Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, II, 110, 1733. 

1 * Willy 's rare, and Willy 's fair, 

And Willy 's wondrous bony, 
And Willy heght to marry me, 
Gin eer he marryd ony. 

2 ' Yestreen I made my bed fu hrade, 

The night I '11 make it narrow, 
For a' the live-long winter's night 
I lie twin'd of my maiTow. 



3 * came you by yon water-side ? 

Pu'd you the rose or lilly ? 
Or came you by yon meadow green ? 
Or saw you my sweet Willy .'' ' 

4 She sought him east, she sought him west, 

She sought him brade and narrow ; 
Sine, in the clifting of a craig, 

She found him drownd in Yarrow. 



B 

a. CromeVs Select Scntish Songs, 1810, IT, 196; eighth 
and ninth stanzas of a fragment sent William Tytler by 
Bums in 1790. b. Stenhouse's edition of the Musical 
Museum, 1853, IV, 464, 

1 She sought him east, she sought him west, 
She sought him braid and narrow, 



Till in the clintin of a craig 

She found him drownd in Yarrow. 

2 She 's taen three links of her yellow hair, 
That hung down lang and yellow, 
And she 's tied it about sweet Willie's waist. 
An drawn him out o Yarrow. 



180 



215. RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE 



o 



Gibb MS., No 7, p. 37; from recitation. "Traced to 
Eppie Eraser, daughter of a tramp, and unable to read, 
circa 1840." 

1 * Willie 's fair, an "Willie 's rare, 

An Willie 's wondrous bonny, 
An Willie 's promised to marry me, 
If eer he marry ony.' 

2 ' O sister dear, I Ve dreamed a dream, 

I 'm afraid it 's unco sorrow ; 
I dreamed I was pu'in the heather green, 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.' 

3 ' sister dear, I '11 read your dream, 

I 'm afraid it will be sorrow ; 



Ye '11 get a letter ere it 's een 

Your lover 's drowned in Yarrow.* 

4 She socht him up, she socht him doun. 
In mickle dule an sorrow ; 
She found him neath a buss o brume, 
In the dowie dens o Yarrow. 

6 Her hair it was three quarters lang. 
Its colour it was yallow ; 
She tied it to his middle sma, 
An pu'ed him oot o Yarrow. 

6 * My bed it was made wide yestreen. 
The nicht it sail be narrow ; 
There 's neer a man lie by my side 
Since Willie 's drowned in Yarrow.' 



Skene MS., p. 47; taken down from recitation in the 
north of Scotland, 1802-3. 

1 * Willie 's fair, and Willie 's rare, 

An he is wondrous bonnie. 
An Willie has promist to marry me, 
Gin ever he marry ony.' 

2 * Ye 's get Jammie, or ye 's [get] Johnnie, 

Or ye 's get bonny Peter ; 
Ye 's get the wale o a' my sons. 
But leave me Willie the writer.* 

S ^ I winna hae Jamie, I winna hae Johnie, 
I winna hae bonny Peter ; 
I winna hae ony o a' your sons. 
An I get na Willie the writer.* 



4 



There was threescore and ten brisk young men 
Was boun to briddal-stool wi him : 

5 ' Ride on, ride on, my merry men a*, 

I forgot something behind me ; 
I forgat my mither's blessing, 
To hae to bride-stool wi me.' 

6 ' God's blessin an mine gae wi ye, Willie, 

God's blessing an mine gae wi ye ; 



For ye 're nae ane hour but bare nineteen. 
Fan ye 're gauin to meet your Meggie.* 

7 They rode on, and farther on. 

Till they came to the water of Gamrie, 
An they a' wan safe through, 
Unless it was sweet Willie. 

8 The first ae step that Willie's horse steppit, 

He steppit to the bridle ; 
The next ae step that Willie's horse steppit, 
Toom grew Willie's saddle. 

9 They rod on, an farther on, 

Till they came to the kirk of Gamrie. 



10 Out spak the bonny bride, 

* Whar is the man that's to gie me his han 

This day at the kirk of Gamrie ? ' 

11 Out spak his brother John, 

An O bat he was sorrie ! 

* It fears me much, my bonny bride. 

He sleeps oure soun in Gamerie.' 

12 The ribbons that were on her hair — 

An they were thick and monny — 
She rive them a', let them down fa, 
An is on[to] the water o Gamerie. 



215. BABE WILLIE DROWNED IN YAREOW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE 



181 



13 She sought it up, she sought it down, 
She sought it braid and narrow ; 
An in the deepest pot o Gamerie, 
There she got sweet Willie. 



14 She has kissd his comely mouth, 
As she had done before [0] : 
* Baith our mithers sail be alike sorry, 
For we 's baith sleep in Gamery.' 



E 



Bncban's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 245. 

1 ' Willie is fair, and Willie is rare, 

And Willie is wondrous bonny, 
And Willie says he '11 marry me, 
Gin ever he marry ony.' 

2 ' ye 'se get James, or ye 'se get George, 

Or ye 's get bonny Johnnie ; 

Ye 'se get the flower o a' my sons, 

Gin ye '11 forsake my Willie.' 

3 * O what care I for James or George, 

Or yet for bonny Peter ? 
I dinna value their love a leek, 
An I getna Willie the writer. 

4 * O Willie has a bonny hand, 

And dear but it is bonny ! ' 
* He has nae mair for a' his land ; 
What woud ye do wi Willie ? * 

5 * Willie has a bonny face. 

And dear but it is bonny ! ' 
' But Willie has nae other grace ; 
What woud ye do wi Willie?' 

6 * Willie 's fair, and Willie 's rare, 

And Willie 's wondrous bonny ; 
There 's nane wi him that can compare, 
I love him best of ony.' 

7 On Wednesday, that fatal day, 

The people were convening ; 
Besides all this, threescore and ten. 
To gang to th« bride-steel wi him. 

8 * Ride on, ride on, my merry men a', 

I 've forgot something behind me ; 
I 've forgot to get my mother's blessing. 
To gae to the bride-steel wi me.* 



9 ' Your Peggy she 's but bare fifteen, 
And ye are scarcely twenty ; 
The water o Gamery is wide and braid ; 
My heavy curse gang wi thee I ' 

10 Then they rode on, and further on. 

Till they came on to Gamery ; 
The wind was loud, the stream was proud, 
And wi the stream gaed Willie. 

11 Then they rode on, and further on, 

Till they came to the kirk o Gamery ; 
And every one on high horse sat. 
But Willie's horse rade toomly. 

12 When they were settled at that place. 

The people fell a mourning. 
And a council held amo them a', 
But sair, sair wept Kinmundy. 

13 Then out it speaks the bride hersell, 

Says, What means a' this mourning ? 
Where is the man amo them a' 
That shoud gie me fair wedding ? 

14 Then out it speaks his brother John, 

Says, Meg, I '11 tell you plainly ; 
The stream was strong, the clerk rade wrong, 
And Willie 's drownd in Gamery. 

16 She put her hand up to her head, 
Where were the ribbons many ; 
She rave them a', let them down fa'. 
And straightway ran to Gamery. 

16 She sought it up, she sought it down, 

Till she was wet and weary ; 
And in the middle part o it, 
There she got her deary. 

17 Then she stroakd back his yellow hair. 

And kissd his mou sae comely : 
* My mother's heart's be as wae as thine ! 
We 'se baith asleep in the water o Gamery.* 



182 



215. BABE WILLIE DBOWNED IN YABBOW, OB, THE WATEB O GAMBIE 



Buchan MSS, U, 159. 

1 Whan Willie was in his saddle set, 

And all his merry men wi him, 
* Stay still, stay still, my merrj"^ men all, 
I 've forgot something behind me. 

2 * Gie me God's blessing an yours, mither. 

To hae me on to Gamery ; 
Gie me God's blessing an yours, mither, 
To gae to the bride-stool wi me.' 

3 ' I '11 gie ye God's blessing an mine, Willie, 

To hae you on to Gamery ; 
Ye 's hae God's blessing an mine, Willie, 
To gae to the bride-stool wi you. 



* But Gamery it is wide and deep, 
An ye '11 never see your wedding ; ' 

5 Some rede back, an some rede fore, 
An some rede on to Gamery ; 
The bonniest knight's saddle among them all 
Stood teem in the Water o Gamery. 



6 Out it spake the bride hersell. 

Says, What makes all this riding ? 
Where is the knight amongst you all 
Aught me this day for wedding ? 

7 Out it spake the bridegroom's brother, 

Says, Margaret, I '11 tell you plainly ; 
The knight ye should hae been wedded on 
Is drownd in the Water o Gamery. 

8 She 's torn the ribbons aff her head — 

They were baith thick an mony — 
She kilted up her green claithing, 
And she has passed the Gamery. 

9 She 's plunged in, so did she down, 

That was baith black an jumly. 
And in the middle o that water 
She found her ain sweet Willie. 

10 She's taen him in her arms twa 
And gied him kisses many : 
* My mother 's be as wae as thine ! 

We '11 baith lie in the Water o Gamery.' 



G 



Motherwell's MS., p. 637 ; from the recitation of the wife 
of James Baird, forester at Dalrymple. 

1 ' STAY at harne, my ain son Willie, 

And let your bride tak Johnie ! 

stay at hame, my ain son Willie I 
For my blessing gaes not wi thee.' 

2 ' I canna stay, nor I winna stay, 

And let my bride tak Johnie ; 

1 canna stay, nor I winna stay, 

Though your blessing gaes na wi me. 

3 ' I have a steed in my stable 

That cost me monie a pennie, 

And on that steed I winna dread 

To ride the water o Genrie.' 

4 The firsten step that Willie stept. 

He steppit to the bellie ; 
The wind blew loud, the stream ran proud. 
And awa wi it gaed WiUie. 



5 And when the bride gaed to the kirk, 

Into the kirk o Ganrie, 
She cuist her ee among them a', 
But she sawna her love Willie. 

6 Out and spak her auld brither, 

Saying, Peggie, I will tell thee ; 
The man ye should been married till 
Lyes in the water o Genrie. 

7 She tore the ribbons aff her head. 

That were baith rich and manie. 
And she has kiltit up her coat. 
And ran to the water o Ganrie. 

8 She's sought him up, sae did she doun. 

Thro a' the water o Ganrie ; 
In the deepest weil in a' the burn, 
Oh, there she fand her Willie ! 

9 She has taen him in her arms twa, 

Sae fondly as she kisst him ! 
Said, ' My mither sail be wae as thine,' 
And she 's lain doun aside him. 



215. RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE 



183 



Campbell MSS, H, 78. 

1 Thby were saddled a', they were briddled a', 

Bridegroom and a' was ready ; 

* Stop,' says he, ' my nobles a', 

For I 've left something behind me. 

2 * It is your blessing, mother dear, 

To bound [to] the bride-styl with me : * 

* God's blessing now, my son,' says she, 

' And mine and a* gang wi ye ! 

3 ' For ye are scarce nineteen years of age 

When ye met in wi bonny Maggie, 
And I 'm sure, my dear, she '11 welcome you 
This day in the kirk o Gemrie.' 

4 It 's they have ridden up, it 's they have ridden 

down, 
And joy was in their gallant company ; 
It 's they have ridden up, and they have ridden 

down. 
Till they came to the water o Gemrie. 

5 When they came to the water, it was flooded ; 

In the middle Sweet William he fell ; 

The spray brook over his horse's mane, 

And the wind sang his funeral knell. 

6 ' O much is the pity ! O much is the pity I ' 

Cried that joyful company ; 
' much is the pity ! much is the pity ! ' 
But alas ! now are woeful and wae. 



7 Hame and hame came his stead, 

And ran to its ain stable ; '" 

They 've gien it corn and hay to eat. 
As much as it was able. 



•^1 



9 It 's up and spak her daughter Ann : 

* What needs be a' this mourning ? 
He 's lighted at yon bonny kirk-style, 

And his steed has run away from him.' 

10 * had yer tongue, my daughter Ann, 

Nor scold na me about mourning ; 
Hadna my son there men enew 
To hae taken his steed from him ? ' 

11 They 've ridden up, they 've ridden down. 

Till they came to the kirk o Gemrie ; 
There they saw his winsome bride. 
Alone at the kirk-style standing. 

12 ' Where away is the man,' says she, 

* That promised me fair wedding ? 
This day he vowd to meet me here. 

But O he 's lang o coming ! ' 

13 Up and spak his brother John, 

Says, ' Meg, I '11 tell ye plainly ; 
The stream was Strang, and we rade wrang, 
And he 's drownd in the water o Gemrie.' 

14 She 's torn the ribons frae her hair, 

That were baith thick and many ; 
She 's torn them a', lettin them fa', 

And she 's away to the waters o Gemrie. 

15 She ['s] sought him up, she 's sought him down, 

Until that she 's gotten his body. 
And she 's laid it on the green, green grass. 
And flung her mantle oer him. 

16 * O Willie was red, but now he 's white ' 

And Willie was wondrous bonny, 
And Willie he said he 'd marry me, 
Gin ere he married oney. 



8 His mother she was a waefu woman. 
As dung as woman could be ; 
*My son,' says she, 'is either hurt or slain, 
Or drowned in the waters of Gemrie.' 



17 * He was red, he was white, he was my delight, 
And aye, aye I thought him bonny ; 
But now since Willie has dy'd for me, 

I will sleep wi him in the same grave at 
Gemrie.' 



B. b. " The editor has often heard the following 
additional stanza [the second"], though it is 
omitted by Thomson." 
2\ links o her gowden locks. 



2*. She 's tied them about. 

D. Not divided into stanzas in the MS. 

E. Variations in Christie, I, 66 ; 
21-8. ye '11. 6^ O Willie 's. 



184 



315. RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE 



7^ And there were mair than threescore and 

ten. 
14*. at Gamery. 15*. Where she had ribbons. 
15'. And tore them a' and let 



G. 
H. 



15*. And syne she ran. 16*. 'T was there. 
17^ She straiked back. 17*. We'll baith sleep. 
6^. Originally But out. 
2\ bound the bridgestyle. 



APPENDIX 



ANNAN WATER 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1833, III, 282; 1802, 
II, 138. 

The first edition lacks stanzas 5, 6, 8, 9. Two 
of these were inserted " from another copy of the 
ballad in which the conclusion proves fortunate." 

" The ballad," says Scott, " is given from tradi- 
tion," for which a more precise expression would per- 
haps be " oral repetition." It is asserted in the 
Minstrelsy to be " the original words of the tune of 
' Allan Water,' by which name the song is mentioned 
in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany " (' Allan Water, 
or, My love Annie 's very bonny,' T. T. M., vol. i, 
p. 105, of the Dublin edition of 1729). This asser- 
tion is not justified by any reasons, nor does it seem 
pertinent, if the Allan was originally the river of 
the baUad, to add, as the editor does, that "the 
Annan and the Frith of Solway, into which it falls, 
are the frequent scenes of tragical accidents." 

A song which may pass for the original Allan 
Water until an earlier is produced is among the 
Laing broadsides (now in the possession of Lord 
Rosebery), No 59. There is no date or place, but it 
is thought to have been printed toward the end of 
the seventeenth century, or the beginning of the 
eighteenth, and probably at Edinburgh. 

The title is : ' Allan Water, or, A Lover in Cap- 
tivity.* A new song, sung with a pleasant new 
air.' There are three eight-line stanzas, and it be- 
gins: 

Allan Water 's wide and deep, 

and my dear Anny *s very bonny; 
Wide 's the straith that lyes above 't, 
if 't were mine, I 'de give it all for Anny. 

Allan Cunningham says of the ballad, Songs of 

* Mr Macmath informs me that in " A Collection of Old 
Ballads, etc., printed at Edinburgh between the years 1660 
and 1720," No 7228 of the catalogue issued by John Steven- 
son, Edinburgh, 1827, there is this item: "Be valiant still. 



Scotland, 11, 102 : " I have heard it sung on the 
banks of the Annan. Like all traditional verses, 
there are many variations." And he cites as " from 
an old fragment " these couplets : 

Annan water's wading deep, [{. e. wide and] 
Yet I am loth to weet my feet; 

But if ye '11 consent to marry me, 

1 '11 hire a horse to carry thee.f 

It is my conviction that * Anna Water,' in Ram- 
say's language, is one of the " Scots poems wrote 
by the ingenious before " 1800. 

" By the Gatehope Slack," says Sir Walter 
Scott, "is perhaps meant the Gate Slack, a pass 
in Annandale." 

1 * Annan water 's wading deep, 

And my love Annie 's wondrous bonny, 
And I am laith she suld weet her feet, 
Because I love her best of ony. 

2 ' Gar saddle me the bonny black, 

Gar saddle sune, and make him ready. 
For I will down the Gatehope-Slaek, 
And all to see my bonny ladye.' 

3 He has loupen on the bonny black, 

He stirrd him wi the spur right sairly ; 
But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack, 
I think the steed was wae and weary. 

4 He has loupen on the bonny grey, 

He rade the right gate and the ready ; 
I trow he would neither stint nor stay, 
For he was seeking his bonny ladye. 

5 O he has ridden oer field and fell, 

Through muir and moss, and mony a mire ; 
His spurs o steel were sair to bide, 
And frae her fore-feet flew the fire. 

6 * Now, bonny grey, now play your part! 

Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary, 

etc., a new song much in request ; also Logan Water, or, A 
Lover in Captivity." 

t " Hire a horse," in an " old fragment "1 — Cunningham 
gives the first two stanzas of the ballad, with variations in 
the first, in his edition of Burns, 1834, V, 107. 



216. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER 



185 



Wi corn and hay ye 'se be fed for aye, 
And never spur sail make you wearie.' 

7 The grey was a mare, and a right good mare. 

But when she wan the Annan water 
She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair 
Had a thousand merks been wadded at her. 

8 ' O boatman, boatman, put off your boat! 

Put off your boat for gowden money ! 
I cross the drumly stream the night, 
Or never mair I see my honey.' 

9*01 was sworn sae late yestreen. 
And not by ae aith, but by many; 
And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland 
I dare na take ye through to Annie.* 

10 The ride was stey, and the bottom deep, 
Frae bank to brae the water pouring, 
And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear. 
For she heard the water-kelpy roaring. 



11 O he has poud aff his dapperpy coat, 

The silver buttons glanced bonny; 
The waistcoat bursted aff his breast. 
He was sae full of melancholy. 

12 He has taen the ford at that stream tail; 

I wot he swam both strong and steady; 
But the stream was broad, and his strength did 
fail, 
And he never saw his bonny ladye ! 

13*0 wae betide the frush saugh wand 1 
And wae betide the bush of brier! 
It brake into my true-love's hand, 

When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire. 

14 * And wae betide ye, Annan Water, 

This night that ye are a drumlie river! 
For over thee I '11 build a bridge, 
That ye never more true love may sever.* 



216 

THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER 



A. * Clyde's Water,' Skene MS., p. 50. 

B. 'Willie and May Margaret,' Jamieson's Popular 
Ballads, 180i), I, 135. 



C. ' The Drowned Lovers,' Buchan's Ballads of the 
North of Scotland, I, 140 ; * Willie and Margaret,* 
Motherwell's MS., p. 611 ; printed in part in Mother- 
well's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. iii. 



Stanzas 1, 5, 6, 7, 16, of B were printed by 
Jamieson (under the title of Sweet Willie and 
May Margaret) in the Scots Magazine, Octo- 
ber, 1803, p. 700, in the hope of obtaining a 
complete copy. 

In notes to B are here given some vari- 
ous readings and supplementary verses which 
were entered by Motherwell in a copy of his 
Minstrelsy, without indication of their origin.* 
Motherwt41 made a few changes in transcrib- 
ing C into his MS., and others in the verses 
which he printed in the appendix to his Min- 
strelsy. 

* This volume came in 1 836 into the hands of Mother- 
well's friend, Mr P. A. Ramsay. The entries have been com- 
municated to me by Mr Macmath. 



The copy of this ballad in Nimmo's Songs 
and Ballads of Clydesdale, p. 134, was com- 
pounded from B and 0. 

Willie orders his horse and his man to be 
fed, for he means to be that very night with 
his love Margaret. His mother would have 
bim stay with her : he shall have the best bed 
in the house and the best hen in the roost, A ; 
the best cock in the roost and the best sheep 
in the flock, B ; a sour wind is blowing and 
the night will be dark, C. He cares for 
none of these, and will go. My malison 
drown thee in Clyde ! says his mother. Clyde 
is roaring fearfully, but he wins through. 
Arrived at Margaret's bower, he tirls at the 



186 



216. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER 



pin and calls to her to open. A voice asks, 
Who is there ? It is her lover, his boots full 
of Clyde's water. An answer comes, as if 
from Margaret, that she has no lovers without 
and none within, and she will not open, A, C ; 
her mother is fast asleep, and she dares make 
no din, B. Then he begs for some shelter for 
the night; but is told that one chamber is 
full of corn, another full of hay, and the third 
full of gentlemen, who will not go till morning. 
Farewell, then ; he has won his mother's 
malison by coming. Clyde's water is half 
up over the brae, B, and sweeps him off his 
horse, C. Margaret wakens from a dreary 
dream that her love had been ' staring ' 
(standing ?) at the foot of her bed, A ; had 
been at the gates, and nobody would let him 
in, C. Her mother informs her that her lover 
had really been at the gates but half an hour 
before. Margaret instantly gets up and goes 
after Willie, crying to him against the loud 
wind. She does not stop for the river. No 
more was ever seen of Willie but his hat, no 
more of Margaret but her comb and her 
snood. A, which might end well so, but has 
lost a few lines. C ends like the preceding 
ballad : Margaret finds Willie in the deepest 
pot in Clyde ; they shall sleep together in 
its bed. 

C 20, 21 absurdly represents Willie's brother 
as standing on the river-bank and expostula- 
ting with him; this in the dead of night.* 

The passage in two of the copies, A 10-16, 
C 11-15, 22-25, in which the mother, pretend- 
ing to be her daughter, repels the lover, and 
the daughter, who has dreamed that her lover 
had come and had been refused admittance, 
is told by her mother that this had actually 
happened, and sets off in pursuit of her lover, 
\ seems to have been adopted from 'The Lass 
of Roch Royal,' No 76. Parts are exchanged, 
as happens not infrequently with ballads ; in 
the * Lass of Roch Royal,' the lass is turned 
away by her lover's mother, pretending to 
speak in his person. There is verbal corre- 
' I spondence, particularly in A 16 ; cf. No 76, 

* The cane in 18^ of this copy is a touch of "realism" 
which we have had in a late copy of Tarn Lin; see J 16, 
III, 505. 



D 26, 27, B 22, 23. In D 19 of No 76 the 
professed Love Gregor tells Annie that he has 
another love, as the professed Meggie in A 11 
(inconsistently with what precedes) tells 
Willie. 

The three steps into the water, C 26-28, / 
occur also in ' Child Waters,' No 63, B 7-9, "^ 
C 6-8, I 3, 4, 6. Nose-bleed, G 1, is a bad \ 
omen ; see No 208. 

Verses A 81-2, C 10i'2, 

Make me your wrack as I come back, 
But spare me as I go, 

are found in a broadside ' Tragedy of Hero 
and Leander,' Roxburghe Ballads, III, 152, 
etc., of the date, it is thouglit, of about 
1650; Ebsworth's Roxburghe Ballads, VI, > 
558, Collier's Book of Roxburghe Ballads, 
1847, p. 227. The conceit does not overwell 
suit a popular ballad. The original is Mai'- 
tial's Parcite dum propero, mergite cum redeo, \ 
otherwise, Mergite me, fluctus, cum rediturus 
ero, Epigr. lib., 25 b, and lib. xiv, 181. 

A very popular Italian ballad has some of |^/«, 
the traits of * The Mother's Malison,' parts 
being exchanged and the girl drowned. A 
girl is asked in marriage; her mother objects, 
in most of the copies on the ground of her 
daughter's youth ; she goes off with her lover ; 
the mother wishes that she may drown in the 
sea ; arrived at the seashore her horse becomes 
restive, and the girl is drowned (or she goes 
down in mid-sea) : ' Maledizione della Madre,' 
Nigra, Canti popolari del Piemonte, p. 151, 
No 23 A-F ; ' La Maledizione materna, ' Mar- 
coaldi, p. 170, No 15 ; ' La Maledetta,' Fer- 
raro, C. p. monferrini, p. 35, No 27 ; ' Buona- 
sera, vedovella,' Ferraro, C. p. del Basso Mon- 
ferrato,p. 16, No 7 ; ' La Figlia disobbediente,' 
Bolza, C. p. comasche, No 55 ; ' Amor di , 
Fratello,' Bernoni, C. p. veneziani, Puntata 9, 
No 4 ; Righi, C. p. veronesi, p. 30, No 93 ; 
Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, No 92 (a 
fragment). In 'Marinai,' Ferraro, C. p. di 
Ferrara, etc., p. 59, No 9, the suitor is a sailor, 
and the girl goes down in his ship, and so in 
*I1 marinaro e la sua amorosa,' No 94, Wolf, 
but in this last she is still told to stick to her 
horse. A fragment in Marie Aycard's Bal- 



21G. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER 



187 



/ 



lades et ch. p. de la Provence, p. xix, repeated 
in Arbaud, II, 166, makes it probable that 
the Italian ballad was known in the south of 
France. (All the above are cited by Count 
Nigra.) 

A mother's curse upon her son, who is rid- 
ing to fetch his bride, results iu his breaking 
his neck, in a Bohemian ballad already spoken 
of under ' Clerk Colvil,' No 42 ; see I, 368 
(where a translation by Wenzig, Slawische 
Volkslieder, p. 47, might have been noted). 

A mother refuses to give her daughter in 
marriage because the girl is under age; the 



daughter is forcibly carried off; the mother 
wishes that she may not live a year, which 
comes to pass : ' Der Mutter Fluch,' Meinert, 
p. 246. 

B is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og 
skotshe Folkeviser, p. 64, No 10, and (with 
use of C), by Wolff, Halle der Volker, I, 26, 
Hausscliatz, p. 203 ; Aytoun's ballad (with 
use of C) by Rosa Warrens, Schottisclie Volks- 
lieder, p. 152, No 35 ; Allingham's ballad by 
Kuortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, p. 123. 



Skene MS., p. 50; taken down from recitation in the 
north of Scotland, 1802-3. 

1 ' Ye gie corn unto my horse, 

An meat unto my man, 
For I will gae to my true-love's gates 
This night, gin that I can.' 

2 ' O stay at hame this ae night, Willie, 

This ae bare night wi me ; 

The best bed in a' my house 

Sail be well made to thee.' 

3 * I carena for your beds, mither, 

I carena ae pin. 
For I '11 gae to my love's gates 
This night, gin I can win.' 

4 * O stay, my son Willie, this night, 

This ae night wi me ; 
The best hen in a' my roost 

Sail be well made ready for thee.' 

5 * I carena for your hens, mither, 

I carena ae pin ; 
I sail gae to my love's gates 
This night, gin I can win.' 

6 ' Gin ye winna stay, my son Willie, 

This ae bare night wi me. 
Gin Clyde's water be deep and fu o flood. 
My malisen drown ye ! ' 



7 He rode up yon high hill, 

An down yon dowie glen ; 
The roaring of Clyde's water 

Wad hae fleyt ten thousand men. 

8 ' spare me, Clyde's water, 

O spare me as I gae ! 
Mak me your wrack as I come back, 
But spare me as I gae ! ' 

9 He rade in, and farther in, 

Till he came to the chin ; 
And he rade in, and farther in. 
Till he came to dry Ian. 

10 An whan he came to his love's gates, 

He tirled at the pin : 
* Open your gates, Meggie, 

Open your gates to me, 
For my beets are fu o Clyde's water. 

And the rain rains oure my chin.' 

11 ' I hae nae lovers therout,' she says, 

* I hae nae love within ; 
My true-love is in my arms twa, 
An nane will I lat in.' 

12 ' Open your gates, Meggie, this ae night, 

Open your gates to me ; 
For Clyde's water is fu o flood, 

An my mither's malison '11 drown me.' 

13 ' Ane o my chamers is fu o corn,' she says, 

' An ane is f u o hay ; 



188 



216. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OB, CLYDE'S WATER 



Anither is fu o gentlemen, 
An they winna move till day.* 

14 Out waked her May Meggie, 

Out o her drousy dream : 
* I dreamed a dream sin the yestreen, 

God read a' dreams to guid ! 
That my true-love Willie 

Was staring at my bed-feet/ 

15 ' Now lay ye still, my ae dochter, 

An keep my back fra the call, 
For it 's na the space of hafe an hour 
Sen he gad fra yer hall.' 

16 ' An hey, Willie, an hoa, Willie, 

Winne ye turn agen ? ' 
But ay the louder that she crayed 
He rod agenst the wind. 



17 He rod up yon high hill. 

An doun yon douey den ; 
The roring that was in Clid[e]'s water 
Wad ha flayed ten thousand men. 

18 He road in, an farder in, 

Till he came to the chine ; 

An he road in, an farder in, 

Bat neuer mare was seen. 



19 Ther was na mare seen of that guid lord 

Bat his hat frae his head ; 
Ther was na mare seen of that lady 
Bat her comb an her sneed. 

20 Ther waders went up an doun 

Eadying Claid's water 
Hav don us wrang 



B 



Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 135; from Mrs Brown's 
recitation, apparently in 1800. 

1 ' GiE corn to my horse, mither, 

Gie meat unto my man. 
For I maun gang to Margaret's bower 
Before the nicht comes on.' 

2 * stay at hame now, my son Willie, 

The wind blaws cald and sour ; 
The nicht will be baith mirk and late 
Before ye reach her bower.* 

3 * O tho the nicht were ever sae dark, 

Or the wind blew never sae cald, 
I will be in my Margaret's bower 
Before twa hours be tald.' 

4 ' O gin ye gang to May Margaret, 

Without the leave of me, 
Clyde's water 's wide and deep enough, 
My malison drown thee 1 ' 

5 He mounted on his coal-black steed. 

And fast he rade awa. 
But ere he came to Clyde's water 
Fu loud the wind did blaw. 



6 As he rode oer yon hich, hich hill, 

And down yon dowie den, 
There was a roar in Clyde's water 
Wad feard a hunder men. 

7 His heart was warm, his pride was up ; 

Sweet Willie kentna fear ; 
But yet his mither's malison 
Ay sounded in his ear. 

8 O he has swam through Clyde's water, 

Tho it was wide and deep. 
And he came to May Margaret's door, 
When a' were fast asleep. 



9 O he 's gane round and round about, 
And tirled at the pin ; 
But doors were steekd, and windows barrd. 
And nane wad let him in. 

10 * O open the door to me, Margaret ! 

O open and lat me in ! 
For my boots are full o Clyde's water 
And frozen to the brim.' 

11 ' I darena open the door to you, 

Nor darena lat you in. 
For my mither she is fast asleep, 
And I darena mak nae din.' 



f 9 



216. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER 



189 



12 ' O gin ye winna open the door, 

Nor yet be kind to me, 
Now tell me o some out-chamber 
Where I this nicht may be.' 

13 * Ye canna win in this nicht, Willie, 

Nor here ye canna be ; 
For I 've nae chambers out nor in, 
Nae ane but barely three. 

14 ' The tane o them is fu o com, 

The tither is f u o hay ; 
The tither is f u o merry young men ; 
They winna remove till day.' 



15 ' O fare ye weel, then. May Margaret, 

Sin better manna be ; 
I 've win my mither's malison. 
Coming this nicht to thee.' 

16 He 's mounted on his coal-black steed, 

O but his heart was wae ! 
But, ere he came to Clyde's water, 
'T was half up oer the brae. 



17 . 



he plunged in, 
But never raise again. 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 140. 

1 Willie stands in his stable-door. 

And clapping at his steed. 
And looking oer his white fingers 
His nose began to bleed. 

2 ' Gie corn to my horse, mother. 

And meat to my young man. 
And I '11 awa to Maggie's bower ; 
I '11 win ere she lie down.' 

3 ' O bide this night wi me, Willie, 

bide this night wi me ; 
The best an cock o a' the reest 

At your supper shall be.' 

4 ' A' your cocks, and a' your reests, 

1 value not a prin, 

For I '11 awa to Meggie's bower ; 
I '11 win ere she lie down.' 

5 ' Stay this night wi me, Willie, 

stay this night wi me ; 
The best an sheep in a' the flock 

At your supper shall be.' 

6 * A' your sheep, and a' your flocks, 

1 value not a prin. 

For I '11 awa' to Meggie's bower ; 
I '11 win ere she lie down.' 



7 ' O an ye gang to Meggie's bower, 

Sae sair against my will. 
The deepest pot in Clyde's water. 
My malison ye 's feel.' 

8 * The guid steed that I ride upon 

Cost me thrice thretty pound ; 
And I '11 put trust in his swift feet 
To hae me safe to land.' 

9 As he rade ower yon high, high hill. 

And down yon dowie den, 
The noise that was in Clyde's water 
Woud feard five huner men. 

10 ' roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud. 

Your streams seem wondrous Strang ; 
Make me your wreck as I come back, 
But spare me as I gang ! * 

11 Then he is on to Maggie's bower, 

And tirled at the pin ; 
' O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie,' he said, 
' Ye '11 open, lat me come in.' 

12 * O wha is this at my bower-door, 

That calls me by my name ? ' 

* It is your first love, sweet Willie, 

This night newly come hame.' 

13 * I hae few lovers thereout, thereout, 

As few hae I therein ; 



190 



216. THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OB, CLYDE'S WATER 



The best an love that ever I had 
Was here just late yestreen.' 

14 ' The warstan stable in a' your stables, 

For my puir steed to stand ! 
The warstan bower in a' your bowers, 

For me to lie therein ! 
My boots are fu o Clyde's water, 

I 'm shivering at the chin.' 

15 ' My barns are fu o corn, Willie, 

My stables are fu o hay ; 
My bowers are fu o gentlemen, 
They '11 nae remove till day.' 

16 * fare ye well, ray fause Meggie, 

farewell, and adieu ! 
I 've gotten my mither's malison 
This night coming to you.' 

17 As he rode ower yon high, high hill, 

And down yon dowie den, 
The rushing that was in Clyde's water 
Took Willie's cane frae him. 

18 He leand him owor his saddle-bow, 

To catch his cane again ; 
The rushing that was in Clyde's water 
Took Willie's hat frae him. 

19 He leand him ower his saddle-bow, 

To catch his hat thro force ; 
The rushing that was in Clyde's water 
Took Willie frae his horse. 

20 His brither stood upo the bank. 

Says, Fye, man, will ye drown ? 
Ye '11 turn ye to your high horse head 
And learn how to sowm. 

21 * How can I turn to my horse head 

And learn how to sowm ? 



I 've gotten my mither's malison, 
It 's here that I maun drown.' 

22 The very hour this young man sank 

Into the pot sae deep, 
Up it wakend his love Meggie 
Out o her drowsy sleep. 

23 * Come here, come here, my mither dear. 

And read this dreary dream ; 
I dreamd my love was at our gates. 
And nane wad let him in.' 

24 ' Lye still, lye still now, my Meggie, 

Lye still and tak your rest ; 
Sin your true-love was at your yates, 
It 's but twa quarters past.' 

25 Nimbly, nimbly raise she up. 

And nimbly pat she on, 
And the higher that the lady cried, 
The louder blew the win. 

26 The first an step that she steppd in, 

She stepped to the queet ; 
* Ohon, alas ! ' said that lady, 
* This water 's wondrous deep.' 

27 The next an step that she wade in, 

She wadit to the knee ; 
Says she, ' I coud wide farther in, 
If I my love coud see.' 

28 The next an step that she wade in, 

She wadit to the chin ; 
The deepest pot in Clyde's water 
She got sweet Willie in. 

29 ' You 've had a cruel mither, Willie, 

And I have had anither ; 
But we shall sleep in Clyde's water 
Like sister an like brither.' 



A. Not divided into stanzas in the MS.; some- 
times not into verses. 

15®. For is written after call in the preced- 
ing line. 

16®. But ay is written after agen in the pre- 
ceding line. 

16*. He is written after crayed in the pre- 
ceding line. 



ld)\ Till is written after in in the preceding 
line. 

19. Ther was na mare seen of 
that guid lord bat his hat 
frae his head ther was na 
mare seen of that lady bat 
her comb an her sneed. 



217. THE BROOM OF OOWDBNKNOWS 



191 



20^ Doun stands at the beginning of the next 

line. 
A 14-16 might perhaps he letter put after 
the drowning, as in C. 
B. Readings inserted by Motherwell in a copy of 
his Minstrelsy. 
4**. My malison and deidly curse 

Shall bear ye companie. 
After 7 : 

He swam high, and he swam low, 

And he swam to and fro, 
Until he gript a hazel-bush, 

That brung him to the brow. 

9*. Var. But his mother answered him. 

10. O rise, rise, May Marget, h[e says], 

{cut away by the binder') 
O rise and let me in, 
For the very steed that I came on 
Does tremble at every Hmb. 

11*. mither and father 's baith awauk. 

12. hae ye neer a stable, he says, 
Or hae ye neer a barn, 
Or hae ye neer a wild-guse house, 
Where I might rest till morn ? 



14^ My iiarn is. 14^ My stable is. 
14^ The house is fu o wild, wild gees. 
14*. They canna be moved. 
15*. Rides in my companie. 
16*. his milk-white. 
16^ And who could ride like him. 
16*. 'T was far outowre the brim. 
After 16 : 

He swam high, and he swam low, 

And he swam to and fro. 
But he neer could spy the hazel-bush 
That would bring him to the brow. 

Comment: The mother was a witch; made 
responses for Margaret ; met him in a green 
habit on his return home. He inquired for 
the ford ; she directed hira to the deepest 
linn. When he got into the water, two 
hounds seized on his horse, and left him to 
struggle with the current. 

Willie's mother had transferred herself to 
Margaret's house according to the varia- 
tion in 9* ; so she is the witch. 

All this is very paltry. The mother's curse 
was enough to drown Willie without her 
bestirring herself further. 



217 

THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



A. 'The Laird of Knotington,' Percy papers, 1768. H. 'The Maid o the Cowdenknows,' Kinloch MSS, 

I, 137. 

B. 'Bonny May.' a. Herd's Ancient and Modern 

Scots Songs, 1769, p. 308 ; 1776, 1, 98. b. Johnson's I. « Laird o Lochnie,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 153; Kin- 
Museum, No 110, p. 113. loch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 167. 

C. 'Laird o Ochiltree,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 143; Kin- J. Kinloch MSS, VI, 11. 
loch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 160. 



D. ' The Laird o Ochiltree Wa's,' Motherwell's MS., 
p. 517. 

E. Motherwell's MS., p. 175. 

P. 'Bonny May,' Gibb MS., p. 9. 

Q. * The Broom of Cowdenknows,' Scott's Minstrelsy, 
III, 280, 1803 ; III, 37, 1833. 



K. ' Maiden o the Cowdenknowes,' Dr Joseph Robert- 
son's Journal of Excursions, No 6. 

L. 'The Broom of the Cowden Knowes,' Buchan's 
MSS, II, 178. 

M. 'Broom o the Cowdenknowes,' Buchan's Ballads 
of the North of Scotland, 1, 172. 

N. « The Lakd of Lochinvar,' Kinloch MSS, I, 145. 



192 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



v/ 



This ballad was widely diffused in Scot- 
land. "It would be useless," says Mother- 
well, "to enumerate the titles of the different 
versions which are common among reciters." 
" Each district has its own version," says Kin- 
loch. So it must have done no little mischief 
in its day. The earliest known copies. A, B, 
are of the second half of the last century. 

There is an English " ditty " (not a tradi- 
tional ballad) of a northern lass who got 
harm while milking her father's ewes, which 
was printed in the first half of the seventeenth 
century. It is here given in an appendix. 
This ditty is " to a pleasant Scotch tune 
called The broom of Cowden Knowes," and 
the burden is : 

With, O the broome, the bonny broome, 
The broome of Cowden Knowes ! 

Fain would I be in the North Countrey, 
To milk my dadyes ewes. 

The tune was remarkably popular, and the 
burden is found, variously modified, in con- 
nection with several songs : see Chappell's 
Popular Music, pp. 458-461, 613, 783. ' The 
Broom of Cowdenknows,' a " new " song, in 
the Tea-Table Miscellany, p. 22, Dublin, 1729, 
has the burden not greatly changed ; also Q, 
L, M, of this ballad. 

There is very little story to the English 
ditty. A maid is beguiled by a shepherd-boy 
while milking her father's ewes ; the conse- 
quences are what might be expected ; her 
mother puts her out of doors, and she ranges 
the world ; a young man who hears her com- 
plaint offers to marry her, and go to the North 
Country with her to milk her father's ewes. 
The Scottish ballad could not have been devel- 
oped from a story of this description. On 
the other hand, it is scarcely to be believed 
that the author of the English ditty, if he 
had known the Scottish ballad, would have 
dropped all the interesting particulars. It is 
possible that he may have just heard about it, 
but much more likely that he knew only the 
burden and built his very slight tale on that. 
It may be observed that his maid, though she 

* The attempt to lessen the disproportion of tlie match 
seems to me a decidedly modern trait. In H 27, 28, this 
goes so far that the maid has twenty ploughs and three 



haunts Liddesdale, and should have belonged 
to Cowdenknowes, was born in Danby Forest, 
Yorkshire. 

Two passages which do not occur in A may 
have been later additions : D 9, 10, F 5, 6, G 
13, 14, M 19, 20, in which the laird, returning 
to his men, is told that he has tarried long, 
and answers that, east or west, he has never 
seen so bonny a lass as was in the ewe- 
buchts ; and H 12-15, J 2-5, L 5-8, where 
the laird tries to pass himself off for one of 
his men, and the maid for one of her mother's 
servants (found in part, also, in G 9, 10, I 5, 
M 12-14). "The maid of a place, such as 
the maid of the Cowdenknows," as Dr Joseph 
Robertson remarks, " means the eldest daugh- 
ter of the tenant or proprietor, who is gener- 
ally called by the name of his farm." * 

It is obvious that the maid would keep her 
counsel when she came back to her father. 
She puts him off with a riddle, C 9, D 13, B 
11, P 9, G 18, H 20, J 6, L 14, M 23, N 7, 
which it is the height of absurdity to make 
her explain, as is done in A 11, B 4, C 10, 
D 14, B 12 ; and so of the exclamation against 
the shepherd if uttered in the father's pres- 
ence, as in P 8, H 19, I 11, L 13, N 8. 

H 10, 11 (cf. D 6), where the maid asks the 
man's name, is a familiar commonplace : see 
No 39, I, 340 a ; No 50, I, 444, 446 ; No 110, 
II, 458 ff. (especially p. 473, H 3, 4) ; No 111, 
II, 478 f. 

M has many spurious stanzas of its own; 
as 3-5, 25, 30-32, 35. N is quite perverted 
from 9 to 28. It is impossible that 9-14 
should follow upon 8, and stanzas 15-27 have 
not a genuine word in them. 

Cunningham has rewritten the ballad, 
Songs of Scotland, II, 113. He says that 
through Dumfriesshire and Galloway the hero 
is always Lord Lochinvar, and cites this 
stanza, which he had heard sung : 

For I do guess, by your golden-rimmed hat, 

And by the silken string, 
That ye are the lord of the Lochinvar, 

Who beguiles all our young women. 

against the laird's thirty and three. In M 3-5, the maid's 
father was once a landed laird, but gambles away his estate, 
and then both father and mother take to drinking ! 



317. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



193 



* Malfred og Sadelmand,' Kristensen, I, 258, 
No 99, is an independent ballad, but has some 
of the traits of this : the maid, who is treated 
with great violence, asks the knight's name, 
as in H, D ; he comes back to marry her, 
after she has borne twins. 

Cowdenknowes is on the east bank of 
Leader, near Earlston, and some four or five 
miles from Melrose. Auchentrone, in B b 11, 



Stenhouse conjectures to be a corruption of 
Auchentroich, an estate in the county of Stir- 
ling, and Oakland Hills, in G, to be Ochil 
Hills, in the same county : Musical Museum, 
IV, 112. 

B is translated by Knortz, Schottiscbe Bal- 
laden, p. 92, No 29. 



Percy papers ; communicated to Percy by E. Lambe, of 
Norham, August 17, 1768, and dated May, 1768. 

1 Theke was a troop of merry gentlemen 

"Was riding atween twa knows, 
And they heard the voice of a bonny lass, 
In a bught milking her ews. 

2 There 's ane o them lighted frae off his steed, 

And has ty'd him to a tree, 
And he 's gane away to yon ew-bught, 
To hear what it might be. 

3 ' O pity me, fair maid,' he said, 

* Take pity upon me ; 
O pity me, and my milk-white steed 
That 's trembling at yon tree.' 

4 * As for your steed, he shall not want 

The best of corn and hay ; 

But as to you yoursel, kind sir, 

I 've naething for to say.' 

6 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand. 
And by the green gown-sleeve, 
And he as led her into the ew-bught, 
Of her friends he speerd nae leave. 

6 He as put his hand in his pocket. 

And given her guineas three : 
* If I dinna come back in half a year, 
Then luke nae mair for me. 

7 ' Now show to me the king's hie street, 

Now show to me the way ; 
Now show to me the king's hie street, 
And the fair water of Tay.' 
VOL. nr. 25 



8 She showd to him the king's hie street, 

She showd to him the way ; 
She showd him the way that he was to go, 
By the fair water of Tay. 

9 When she came hame, her father said, 

' Come, tell to me right plain ; 
I doubt you 've met some in the way. 
You have not been your lain.' 

10 * The night it is baith mist and mirk. 

You may gan out and see ; 
The night is mirk and mist^ too. 
There 's nae body been wi me. 

11 * There was a tod came to your flock. 

The like I neer did see ; 
When he spake, he lifted his hat. 
He had a bonny twinkling eee.' 

12 When fifteen weeks were past and gane, 

Full fifteen weeks and three, 
Then she began to think it lang 
For the man wi the twinkling eee. 

13 It fell out on a certain day. 

When she cawd out her father's ky. 
There was a troop of gentlemen 
Came merrily riding by. 

14 * Weel may ye sigh and sob,' says ane, 

' Weel may you sigh and see ; 
Weel may you sigh, and say, fair maid, 
Wha 's gotten this bairn wi thee ? ' 

15 She turned her sel then quickly about, 

And thinking meikle shame. 



I 



194 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



* O no, kind sir, it is na sae, 
For it has a dad at hame.* 

16 * O hawd your tongue, my bonny lass, 

Sae loud as I hear you lee ! 
For dinna you mind that summer night 
I was in the bught wi thee ? ' 

17 He lighted off his milk-white steed, 

And set this fair maid on ; 



* Now caw out your ky, good father,' he said, 
* She '11 neer caw them out again. 

18 * I am the laird of Knottington, 
I 've fifty plows and three ; 
I 've gotten now the bonniest lass 
That is in the hale country.' 



B 



a. Herd's Ancient and Modem Scots Songs, 1769, p. 308. 
b. Johnson's Museum, No 110, p. 113. 

1 It was on an evning sae saft and sae clear 

A bonny lass was milking the kye, 
And by came a troup of gentlemen, 
And rode the bonny lassie by. 

2 Then one of them said unto her, 

' Bonny lass, prythee shew me the way : ' 
' if I do sae, it may breed me wae, 
For langer I dare nae stay.' 



3 But dark and misty was the night 

Before the bonny lass came hame : 
* Now where hae you been, my ae doughter ? 
I am sure you was nae your lane.' 

4 * O father, a tod has come oer your lamb, 

A gentleman of high degree. 
And ay whan he spake he lifted his hat, 
And bonny, bonny blinkit his ee.' 

5 Or eer six months were past and gane, 

Six months but and other thi'ee, 
The lassie begud for to fret and to frown. 
And think lang for his blinkin ee. 



6 * O wae be to my father's shepherd, 

An ill death may he die ! 
He bigged the bughts sae far frae hame, 
And trysted a gentleman to me ! * 

7 It fell upon another fair evening 

The bonny lassie was milking her ky, 
And by came the troop of gentlemen. 
And rode the bonny lassie by. 

8 Then one of them stopt, and said to her, 

* Whae 's aught that baby ye are wi ? ' 
The lassie began for to blush, and think. 
To a father as good as ye. 

9 * O had your tongue, my bonny may, 

Sae loud I hear you lie ! 
O dinnae you mind the misty night 
I was in the bught with thee ? ' 

10 Now he 's come aff his milk-white steed. 

And he has taen her hame : 
* Now let your father bring hame the ky. 
You neer mair shall ca them agen. 

11 ' I am a lord of castles and towers, 

With fifty ploughs of land and three, 
And I have gotten the bonniest lass 
That is in this countrie.' 



Einloch MSS, Vll, 143, from the recitation of Jenny 
Watson, 24 April, 1826; Clydesdale. 

1 It was on a day whan a lovely may 
Was cawing out her father's kye. 



And she spied a troop o' gentlemen, 
As they war passing bye. 

2 * O show me the way, my pretty maid, 
O show me the way,' said he ; 



217. THE BBOOM OP COWDENKNOWS 



195 



* My steed has just now rode wrong, 

And the way I canna see.' 

3 ' O haud yon ou the same way/ she said, 

* haud ye on 't again, 

For, if ye haud on the king's hieway. 
Rank rievers will do ye na harm.' 

4 He took her hy the milk-white hand, 

And by the gerss-green sleeve, 
And he has taiglet wi the fair may, 
And of her he askd na leave. 

5 Whan ance he got her gudwill, 

Of her he craved na mair. 
But he poud out a ribbon frae his pouch, 
And snooded up the may's hair. 

6 He put his hand into his pouch. 

And gave her guineas three : 
' If I come na back in twenty weeks. 
Ye need na look mair for me.' 

7 But whan the may did gang hame. 

Her father did her blame ; 

* "Whare hao ye been now, dame ? ' he said 

* For ye 've na been your lane.' 

8 * The nicht is misty and mirk, father. 

Ye may come to the door and see ; 
The nicht is misty and mirk, father, 
And there 's na body wi me. 

9 * But there cam a tod to your flock, father, 

The like o him I never saw ; 
Or he had tane the lambie that he had, 
I wad rather he had tane them aw. 

10 * But he seemd to be a gentleman. 
Or a man of some pious degree ; 
For whanever he spak, he lifted up his hat. 
And he had [a] bonnie twinkling ee.' 



11 Whan twenty weeks were come and gane. 

Twenty weeks and three. 
The lassie began to grow thick in the waist. 
And thoucht lang for his twinkling ee. 

12 It fell upon a day whan bonnie may 

Was cawing out the kye, 
She spied the same troop o gentlemen. 
As they war passing bye. 

13 * O well may you save, my pretty may, 

Weill may you save and see ! 
Weill may ye save, my lovely may ! 
Go ye wi child to me ? ' 

14 But the may she turnd her back to him. 

She begoud to think meikle shame ; 
'Na, na, na, na, kind sir,' she said, 
* I 've a gudeman o my ain.' 

15 * Sae loud as I hear ye lie, fair may, 

Sae loud as I hear ye lee ! 
Dinna ye mind o yon misty nicht 
Whan I was in the bucht wi thee?* 

16 He lichted a£B his hie, hie horse. 

And he set the bonnie may on : 
•Now caw out your kye, gud father. 
Ye maun caw them out your lone. 

17 ' For lang will ye caw them out, 

And weary will ye be. 
Or ye get your dochter again 



18 He was the laird o Ochiltree, 
Of therty ploughs and three. 
And he has stown awa the loveliest may 
In aw the south cuntree. 



//f? rv.f*-^ 



Motherwell's MS., p. 517 ; from the singing of Mrs Storie, 
of Lochwinuoch. 

1 O BONNIE May is to the yowe-buchts gane. 
For to milk her daddie's yowes. 
And ay she sang, and her voice it rang 
f Out-ower the tap o the knows, knows, knowes, 

I Out-owr the tap o the knowes. 



2 Ther cam a troop o gentilmen. 

As they were rydand by. 
And ane o them he lichtit doun. 
For to see May milkand her kye. 

3 * Milk on, milk on, my bonnie lass. 

Milk on, milk on,' said he, 
* For out o the buchts I winna gang 
Till ye shaw me owr the lee.' 



196 



21T. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



4 ' Ryde on, ryde on, ye rank rydars, 

Your steeds are stout and Strang, 
For out o the yowe-buchts I winna gae, 
For fear that ye do me some wrang.' 

5 He took her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the green gown-sleive, 
And thare he took his will o her, 
Bot o her he askit nae leive. 

6 But whan he gat his will o her 

He loot her up again, 
And a' this bonny maid said or did 
Was, Kind sir, tell me your name. 

7 He pou't out a sillar kame, 

Sayand, Kame your yellow hair ; 
And, gin I be na back in three quarters o a 
year, 
It 's o me ye '11 see nae mair. 

8 He pu't out a silken purse 

And he gied her guineas thrie, 
Saying, Gin I may na be back in three quar- 
ters o a year. 
It will pay the nourice fee. 

9 He put his fut into the stirrup 

And rade after his men, 
And a' that his men said or did 

Was, Kind maister, ye 've taiglit lang. 

10 * I hae rade east, I hae rade wast. 

And I hae rade owr the knowes, 
But the bonniest lassie that I ever saw 

Was in the yowe-buchts, milkand her yowes/ 

11 She put the pail upon her heid. 

And she 's gane merrilie hame, 
And a' that her faither said or did 
Was, Kind dochter, ye 've taiglit lang. 



12 * Oh, wae be to your men, faither, 

And an ill deth may they die ! 
For they cawit a' the yowes out-owre the 
knowes, 
And they left naebody wi me. 

13 * There cam a tod unto the bucht. 

The like I never saw. 
An, afore that he took the ane that he took, 
I wad leifar he had tane ither twa. 

14 'There cam a tod unto the bucht. 

The like I never did see, 
And, ay as he spak, he liftit his hat, 
And he had a bonnie twinkland ee.' 

15 It was on a day, and it was a fine simmer day, 

She was cawing out her faither's kye, 
There cam a troup o gentilmen, 

And they rade ways the lass near by. 

16 * Wha has dune to you this ill, my dear ? 

Wha has dune to you this wrang ? ' 
And she had na a word to say for hersell 
But, * Kind sir, I hae a man o my ain.' 

17 *Ye lie, ye lie, bonnie May,' he says, 

* Aloud I hear ye lie ! 
For dinna ye mind yon bonnie simmer nicht 
Whan ye war in the yowe-buchts wi me ? 

18 ' Licht doun, licht doun, my foremaist man, 

Licht doun and let her on, 
For monie a time she cawit her faither's 
kye, 
But she '11 neir caw them again. 

19 * For I am the laird o Ochiltree Wawis, 

I hae threttie pleuchs and thrie. 

And I hae tane awa the bonniest lass 

That is in a' the north countrie.' 



B 



Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 175; "from the recitation 
of Mrs Thomson, Kilbarchan, a native of Dumbartonshire, 
where she learned it." 

1 There was a may, and a bonnie may, 
In the bught, milking the ewes. 
And by came a troop of gentlemen. 
And they rode by and by. 



2 ' O I '11 give thee my milk-white steed. 

It cost me three hundred pound. 
If ye '11 go to yon sheep-bught. 
And bring yon fair maid doun.' 

3 * Your steed ye canna want, master, 

But pay to ane a fee ; 
Fifty pound of good red gold. 
To be paid down to me.' 



aiT. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



197 



4 'Come shew me the way, pretty may,' he 

said, 
* For our steeds are quite gone wrong ; 
Will you do to me such a courtesy 
As to shew us the near-hand way ? ' 

5 * O go ye doun to yon meadow. 

Where the people are mowing the hay ; 
Go ye doun to yon meadow. 

And they '11 shew you the near-hand way.' 

6 But he 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the grass-green sleeve ; 
He 's bowed her body to the ground, 
Of her kin he asked no leave. 

7 When he lifted her up again 

He 's gien her guineas three : 
' If I be na back gin three quarters o a year, 
Ye need neer think mair on me.' 



For or he had taen the bonnie lamb he took, 
Te had as weel hae gien them a'. 

12 * There came a tod to your bught, father, 

The like o him I neer did see ; 
For aye when he spak he lifted up his hat, 
And he had a bonnie twinkling ee.' 

13 But when twenty weeks were come and gane. 

Aye, twenty weeks and three. 
This lassie began to spit and to spew. 
And to lang for the twinkling ee. 

14 It fell on a day, and a bonnie summer day, 

She was caing out her father's kye. 
And by came a troop of gentlemen. 
And they rode by and by. 

15 ' wha got the bairn wi thee, bonnie may ? 

O wha got the bairn wi thee ? ' 



8 '0 where hast thou been, bonnie may,' he 

said, 

* where hast thou been sae lang ? 

O where hast thou been, bonnie may ? ' he 
said, 

* Thou hast na been sae lang thy lane.* 

9 ' O come to the door and see, father, 

O come to the door and see. 
And see such a weety and a windy night ; 
There were nobody wi me. 

10 * But wae be to your herd, father, 

And an ill death may he die ! 
For he left the ewes strayed owre the knowes. 
And he left naebody wi me. 

11 * But there came a tod to your bught, father. 

The like o him I neer saw ; 



16 She turned hersell right round about. 

She began to blush and think shame, 
And never a word this bonnie lassie spok 
But ' I have a good-man at hame.' 

17 * Thou lie, thou lie, my bonnie may, 

Sae loud I hear thee lie ! 
Do ye mind o the weety and windy night 
When I was in the ewe-bught wi thee ? 

18 * Light off, light off, the gentlest of my men, 

And set her on behind, 
And ca out your kye, good father, yoursell. 
For she '11 never ca them out again.* 

19 He was the laird o twenty plough o land. 

Aye, twenty plough and three. 
And he 's taen awa the bonniest lass 
Was in a' the south countrie. 



P 



Gibb MS., p. 9. "From recitation; traced to Marjr 
Jack, Lochlee, Forfarshire, died 1881, aged 94." 

1 BoNNT MAY has to the ewe-bughts gane, 
To milk her father's ewes. 
An aye as she milked her bonny voice rang 
Far out amang the knowes. 



2 ' Milk on, milk on, my bonny, bonny may, 

Milk on, milk on,' said he; 
* Milk on, milk on, my bonny, bonny may ; 
Will ye shew me out-ower the lea ? * 

3 ' Ride on, ride on, stout rider,' she said, 

* Yere steed 's baith stout and Strang ; 



198 



217. THE BROOM OP COWDENKNOWS 



For out o the ewe-bught I dauma come, 
For fear ye do me wrang.' 

4 But he 's tane her by the milk-white hand, 

An by the green gown-sleeve, 
An he 'a laid her low on the dewy grass, 
An at nae ane spiered he leave. 

5 Then he 's mounted on his milk-white steed, 

An ridden after his men, 
An a' that his men they said to him 
Was, Dear master, ye 've tarried lang. 

6 * I 've ridden east, an I 've ridden wast. 

An I 've ridden amang the knowes. 
But the bonniest lassie eer I saw 
Was milkin her daddie's yowes.' 

7 She 's taen the milk-pail on her heid. 

An she 's gane langin hame. 
An a her father said to her 

Was, Daughter, ye 've tarried lang. 

8 ' Oh, wae be to your shepherds ! father, 

For they take nae care o the sheep ; 
For they 've bygit the ewe - bught far frae 
hame. 
An they 've trysted a man to me. 



9 * There came a tod unto the bucht. 
An a waefu tod was he, 
An, or ever he had tane that ae ewe-lamb, 
I had rather he had tane ither three.' 

10 But it fell on a day, an a bonny summer day. 

She was ca'in out her father's kye, 
An bye came a troop o gentlemen. 
Cam ridin swiftly bye. 

11 Out an spoke the foremost ane, 

Says, Lassie hae ye got a man ? 
She turned herself saucy round about. 
Says, Yes, I 've ane at hame. 

12 ' Ye lee, ye lee, ye my bonny may, 

Sae loud as I hear ye lee ! 
For dinna ye mind that misty nicht 
Ye were in the ewe-bughts wi me ? * 

13 He ordered ane o his men to get down ; 

Says, Lift her up behind me ; 
Your father may ca in the kye when he likes. 
They sail neer be ca'ed in by thee. 

14 ' For I 'm the laird o Athole swaird, 

Wi fifty ploughs an three, 
An I hae gotten the bonniest lass 
In a' the north countrie.' 



Scott's Minstrelsy, HI, 280, 1803 j from Ettrick Forest. 

1 O THE broom, and the bonny, bonny broom. 

And the broom of the Cowdenknows ! 
And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang, 
I the bought, milking the ewes. 

2 The hills were high on ilka side, 

An the bought i the lirk o the hill, 
And aye, as she sang, her voice it rang 
Out-oer the head o yon hill. 

3 There was a troop o gentlemen 

Came riding merrilie by. 
And one o them has rode out o the way. 
To the bought to the bonny may. 



4 * Weel may ye save an see, bonny lass. 
An weel may ye save an see ! ' 
* An sae wi you, ye weel-bred knight, 
And what 's your will wi me ? ' 

6 ' The night is misty and mirk, fair may. 
And I have ridden astray. 
And will ye be so kind, fair may. 
As come out and point my way ? * 

6 * Eide out, ride out, ye ramp rider ! 

Your steed 's baith stout and Strang ; 
For out of the bought I dare na come. 
For fear at ye do me wrang.* 

7 * winna ye pity me, bonny lass? 

O winna ye pity me ? 
An winna ye pity my poor steed. 
Stands trembling at yon ti'ee ? ' 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



199 



8 * I wadna pity your poor steed, 

The it were tied to a thorn ; 
For if ye wad gain my love the night 
Ye wad slight me ere the morn. 

9 * For I ken you by your weel-busked hat, 

And your merrie twinkling ee. 
That ye 're the laird o the Oakland hills. 
An ye may weel seem for to be.' 

10 * But I am not the laird o the Oakland hills, 

Ye 're far mistaen o me ; 
But I 'm ane o the men about his house, 
An right aft in his companie.' 

11 He 's taen her by the middle jimp. 

And by the grass-green sleeve. 
He 's lifted her over the fauld-dyke, 
And speerd at her sma leave. 

12 O he 's taen out a purse o gowd. 

And streekd her yellow hair : 

* Now take ye that, my bonnie may. 

Of me till you hear mair.' 

13 he 's leapt on his berry-brovm steed, 

An soon he 's oertaen his men ; 
And ane and a' cried out to him, 
master, ye 've tarryd lang ! 

14 ' O I hae been east, and I hae been west, 

An I hae been far oer the knows. 

But the bonniest lass that ever I saw 

Is i the bought, milkin the ewes.' 

15 She set the cog upon her head, 

An she 's gane singing hame : 

* O where hae ye been, my ae daughter ? 

Ye hae na been your lane.' 

16 * O nae body was wi me, father, 

O nae body has been wi me ; 
The night is misty and mirk, father, 
Ye may gang to the door and see. 

17 * But wae be to your ewe-herd, father, 

And an ill deed may he die ! 



He bug the bought at the back o the know 
And a tod has frighted me. 

18 * There came a tod to the bought-door, 

The like I never saw ; 
And ere he had taken the lamb he did 
I had lourd he had taen them a'.' 

19 O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane. 

Fifteen weeks and three. 
That lassie began to look thin and pale, 
An to long for his merry-twinkling ee. 

20 It fell on a day, on a het simmer day. 

She was ca'ing out her father's kye, 
By came a troop o gentlemen, 
A' merrilie riding bye. 

21 * Weel may ye save an see, bonny may ! 

Weel may ye save and see ! 
Weel I wat ye be a very bonny may, 
But whae 's aught that babe ye are wi ? ' 

22 Never a word could that lassie say, 

For never a ane could she blame. 

An never a word could the lassie say, 

But, I have a good man at hame. 

23 * Ye lied, ye lied, my very bonny may, 

Sae loud as I hear you lie ! 
For dinna ye mind that misty night 
I was i the bought wi thee ? 

24 ' I ken you by your middle sae jimp. 

An your merry-twinkling ee. 
That ye 're the bonny lass i the Cowdenknow, 
An ye may weel seem for to be.' 

26 Than he 's leapd off his berry-brown steed, 
An he 's set that fair may on : 
* Caw out your kye, gude father, yoursel, 
For she 's never caw them out again. 

26 * I am the laird of the Oakland hUls, 
I hae thirty plows and three. 
An I hae gotten the bonniest lass 
That 's in a' the south country.' 



200 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



Kinloch MSS, I, 137 ; from Mrs Boutchart. 

1 Thebe was a may, a maiden sae gay, 

Went out wi her milking-pail ; 
Lang she foucht or her ewes wad bucht, 
And syne she a milking fell. 

2 And ay as she sang the rocks they rang, 

Her voice gaed loud and shill ; 
Ye wad hae heard the voice o the maid 
On the tap o the ither hill. 

3 And ay she sang, and the rocks they rang, 

Her voice gaed loud and hie ; 
Till by there cam a troop o gentlemen, 
A riding up that way. 

4 * Weel may ye sing, ye bonnie may, 

Weel and weel may ye sing ! 
The nicht is misty, weet, and mirk, 
And we hae ridden wrang.' 

6 * Hand by the gate ye cam, kind sir, 
Hand by the gate ye cam ; 
But tak tent o the rank river, 
For our streams are unco Strang.' 

6 * Can ye na pity me, fair may, 

Canna ye pity me ? 
Canna ye pity my puir steed, 
Stands trembling at yon tree ? ' 

7 * What pity wad ye hae, kind sir ? 

What wad ye hae frae me ? 
If he has neither corn nor hay. 
He has gerss at libertie.' 

8 * Can ye na pity me, fair may, 

Can ye na pity me ? 
Can ye na pity a gentle knicht 
That 's deeing for love o thee ? * 

9 He 's tane her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the gerss-green sleeve ; 
He 's laid her laigh at the bucht-end, 
At her kin speird na leave. 

10 ' After ye hae tane your will o me, 
Your will as ye hae tane, 
Be as gude a gentle knicht 
As tell to me your name.' 



11 ' Some do ca me Jack,' says he, 

' And some do ca me John ; 
But whan I 'm in the king's hie court 
Duke William is my name. 

12 * But I ken by your weel-f aurd face, 

And by your blinking ee, 
That ye are the Maid o the Cowdenknows, 
And seem very weel to be.' 

13 * I am na the maid o the Cowdenknows, 

Nor does not think to be ; 
But I am ane o her best maids, 
That 's aft in her companie. 

14 ' But I ken by your black, black hat, 

And by your gay gowd ring, 
That ye are the Laird o Rochna hills, 
Wha beguiles a' our women.' 

16 * I am na the Laird o Rochna hills, 
Nor does na think to be ; 
But I am ane o his best men. 
That 's aft in his companie.' 

16 He 's put his hand in his pocket 

And tane out guineas three ; 
Says, Tak ye that, my bonnie may ; 
It '11 pay the nourice fee. 

17 She 's tane her cog upon her head, 

And fast, fast gaed she hame : 
*Whare hae ye been, my dear dochter .'' 
Ye hae na been your lane. 

18 ' The nicht is misty, weet, and mirk ; 

Ye may look out and see ; 
The ewes war skippin oure the knowes. 
They wad na bucht in for me. 

19 ' But wae be to your shepherd, father, 

An ill death may he dee ! 
He bigget the buchts sae far frae the toun, 
And he trysted a man to me. 

20 * There cam a tod amang the flock, 

The like o him I neer did see ; 
Afore he had tane the lamb that he took, 
I 'd rather he 'd tane ither three.' 

21 Whan twenty weeks war past and gane, 

Twenty weeks and three, 



217. THE BBOOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



201 



The lassie begoud to spit and spue, 
And thought lang for 's blinkin ee. 

22 'T was on a day, and a day near bye. 

She was ca'ing out the kye, 
That by cam a troop o merry gentlemen, 
Cam riding bye that way. 

23 * Wha 's gien ye the scorn, bonnie may ? 

wha 's done ye the wrang ? ' 

* Na body, na body, kind sir,' she said, 
* My baby's father 's at hame.' 

24 * Ye lee, ye lee, f ause may,' he said, 

' Sae loud as I hear ye lee ! 
Dinna ye mind o the mirk misty nicht 

1 buchted the ewes wi thee ? ' 



25 ' Weel may I mind yon mirk misty nicht, 

. Weel may I mind,' says she ; 

* For ay whan ye spak ye lifted up your hat, 

Ye had a merry blinkin ee.' 

26 He 's turned him round and richt about. 

And tane the lassie on ; 

* Ca out your ky, auld father,' he said, 

' She sail neer ca them again. 

27 * For I am the Laird o Rochna hills, 

O thirty plows and three ; 
And I hae gotten the bonniest lass 
a' the west countrie.' 

28 ' And I 'm the Maid o the Cowdenknows, 

O twenty plows and three ; 
And I hae gotten the bonniest lad 
In a' the north countrie.' 



Kinloch MSS, VII, 153; from the recitation of Miss M. 
Kin near, August 23, 1826, a North Countrj version. 

1 The lassie sang sae loud, sae loud, 

The lassie sang sae shill ; 
The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang, 
At the farther side o yon hill. 

2 Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen, 

They aw rode merry bye ; 
The very first and the foremaist 
Was the first that spak to the may. 

3 * This is a mark and misty nicht. 

And I have ridden wrang ; 
If ye wad be sae gude and kind 
As to show me the way to gang.' 

4 ' If ye binna the laird o Lochnie's lands. 

Nor nane o his degree, 
I '11 show ye a nearer road that will keep you 
frae 
The glen-waters and the raging sea.' 

5 ' I 'm na the laird o Lochnie's lands, 

Nor nane o his degree ; 
But I am as brave a knicht. 
And ride aft in his company. 
VOL. IV. 26 



6 * Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid ? 

Have ye na pity on me ? 
Have ye na pity on my puir steed. 
That stands trembling by yon tree ? * 

7 * What pity wad ye hae, kind sir ? 

What pity wad ye hae frae me ? 
Though your steed has neither corn nor hay. 
It has gerss at its liberty.' 

8 He has trysted the pretty maid 

Till they cam to the brume. 
And at the end o yon ew-buchts 
It 's there they baith sat doun. 

9 Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails. 

And away gaed she hame ; 
Up bespak her auld father, 

* It 's whare hae ye been sae lang ? * 

10 * This is a mark and a misty nicht, 

Ye may gang to the door and see ; 
The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the 
knows, 
They winna bucht in for me. 

11 * I may curse my father's shepherd ; 

Some ill death mat he dee ! 
He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun, 
And has trysted the young men to me.' 



202 



217. THE BBOOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



Kinloch MSS, VI, 11 ; in the handwriting of Dr Joseph 
Bobertson, and given him by his mother, Chribtian Leslie. 

1 It was a dark and a misty night, 

And by came a troop o gentlemen, 
Said, Lassie, shew me the way. 

2 * Oh well ken I by your silk mantle, 

And by your grass-green sleeve, 
That you are the maid of the Cowdenknows, 
And may well seem to be.' 

3 ' I 'm nae the maid of the Cowdenknows, 

Nor ever think to be ; 
I am but ane of her hirewomen, 
Bides aft in her companie. 

4 * Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed, 

And by your merry winking ee. 
That you are the laird of Lochinvar, 
And may well seem to be.' 

5 * I 'm nae the laird of Lochinvar, 

Nor may well seem to be ; 
But I am one of his merry young men, 
And am oft in his companie.' 



6 * The tod was among your sheep, father, 

You may look forth and see ; 
And before he had taen the lamb he 's taen 
I had rather he had taen three.' 

7 When twenty weeks were come and gane, 

Twenty weeks and three. 
The lassie she turned pale and wan 



And was caain out her father's kye, 
When by came a troop of gentlemen, 
Were riding along the way. 

9 * Fair may it fa thee, weel-f a'rt may ! 
Wha 's aught the bairn ye 're wi ? ' 
* I hae a husband o my ain, 
To father my bairn te.' 

10 ' You lie, you lie, you well-f ar'd may, 

Sae loud 's I hear you lie ! 
Do you mind the dark and misty night 
I was in the bught wi thee ? ' 

11 * Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed. 

And by your merry winkin ee. 

That you are the laird of Lochinvar, 

That was in the bught wi me.' 



Joseph Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No 6 ; "taken 
down from a man in the parish of Leochel, 12 Febroarj, 
1829." 



1 There was four and twenty gentlemen, 

As they were ridin by. 
And aff there loups the head o them, 
Cums in to this fair may. 

2 ' It 's a mark and a mark and a misty night. 

And we canna know the way ; 
And ye wad be as gude to us 
As shew us on the way.' 



3 * Ye '11 get a boy for meat,' she says, 

* Ye '11 get a boy for fee. 

That will shew you the right way.* 

4 ' We '11 get a boy for meat,' he says, 

* We '11 get a boy for fee. 

But we do not know where to seek 
That bonny boy out.* 



5 * It 's foul bef a my auld father's men, 
An ill death mat they die ! 
They 've biggit the ewe bucht sae far frae the 
town 
They 've tristed the men to me.* 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



203 



Buchan'sMSS, II, 178. 

O THE broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 
The broom grows oer the burn ! 

Aye when I mind on 's bonny yellow hair, 
I aye hae cause to mourn. 

1 There was a bonny, a well-fared may, 

In the fauld milking her kye, 
When by came a troop of merry gentlemen, 
And sae merrily they rode by. 
O the broom, etc. 

2 The maid she sang till the hills they rang. 

And a little more forebye, 
Till in came ane of these gentlemen 
To the bught o the bonny may. 

3 * "Well mat ye sing, fair maid,' he says, 

* In the fauld, milking your kye ; 
The night is misty, weet and dark. 
And I 've gane out o my way.* 

4 * Keep on the way ye ken, kind sir. 

Keep on the way ye ken ; 
But I pray ye take care o Clyde's water. 
For the stream runs proud and fair.' 

5 * I ken you by your lamar beads, 

And by your blinking ee, 
That your mother has some other maid 
To send to the ewes than thee.' 

6 * I ken you by your powderd locks. 

And by your gay gold ring. 
That ye are the laird o Rock-rock lays. 
That beguiles all young women.' 



7 * I 'm not the laird o the Rock-rock 
Nor ever hopes to be ; 
But I am one o the finest knights 
That 's in his companie. 



8 * Are ye the maid o the Cowden Knowes ? 

I think you seem to be ; ' 
• No, I 'm not the maid o the Cowden Knowes, 

Nor ever hopes to be ; 
But I am one o her mother's maids. 

And oft in her companie.' 

9 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand. 

And by her grass-green sleeve. 



He 's set her down upon the ground 
Of her kin spierd nae leave. 

10 He 's gien her a silver comb. 

To comb her yellow hair ; 
He bade her keep it for his sake, 
For fear she never got mair. 

11 He pat his hand in his pocket, 

He 's gien her guineas three ; 
Says, Take ye that, fair maid, he says, 
'T will pay the nourice's fee. 

12 She 's taen her milk-pail on her head. 

And she gaed singing hame. 
And a' that her auld father did say, 
' Daughter, ye 've tarried lang.' 

13 * Woe be to your shepherd, father. 

And an ill death mat he die ! 
He 's biggit the bught sae far frae the town, 
And trystit a man to me. 

14 * There came a tod into the bught, 

The like o 'm I neer did see ; 
Before he 'd taen the lamb he 's taen, 
I 'd rather he 'd taen other three.' 

15 Or eer six months were past and gane, 

Six months but other three, 
The lassie begud for to fret and frown, 
And lang for his blinking ee. 

16 It fell upon another day, 

When ca'ing out her father's kye. 
That by came the troop o gentlemen, 
Sae merrily riding by. 

17 Then ane of them stopt, and said to her, 

* Wha 's aught that bairn ye 're wi ? ' 
The lassie began for to blush, and think, 

To a father as good as ye. 

18 She turnd her right and round about 

And thought nae little shame ; 
Then a' to him that she did say, 

* I 've a father to my bairn at hame.* 

19 ' Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-fared may, 

Sae loud 's I hear ye lie ! 
For dinna ye mind yon misty night 
I was in the bught wi thee ? 



204 



217. 



THE BROOM OF OOWDENKNOWS 



20 ' I gave you a silver comb, 

To comb your yellow hair ; 
I bade you keep it for my sake, 
For fear ye 'd never get mair. 

21 ' I pat my hand in my pocket, 

I gae you guineas three ; 
I bade you keep them for my sake. 
And pay the nourice's fee.' 

22 He 's lappen aff his berry-brown steed 

And put that fair maid on ; 



' Ca hame your kye, auld father,' he says, 
' She shall never mair return. 

23 ' I am the laird o the Rock-rock lays, 
Hae thirty ploughs and three, 
And this day will wed the fairest maid 
That eer my eyes did see.' 

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 
The broom grows oer the burn ! 

Aye when she minds on his yellow hair, 
She shall neer hae cause to mourn. 



M 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 172. 

1 'T WAS on a misty day, a fair maiden gay 

Went out to the Cowdenknowes ; 
Lang, lang she thought ere her ewes woud 
bught, 
Wi her pail for to milk the ewes. 

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 

The broom o the Cowdenknowes ! 
And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang, 
In the ewe-bught, milking her ewes. 

2 And aye as she sang the greenwoods rang, 

Her voice was sae loud and shrill ; 
They heard the voice o this well-far'd maid 
At the other side o the hill. 

3 ' My mother she is an ill woman, 

And an ill woman is she ; 
Or than she might have got some other maid 
To milk her ewes without me. 

4 ' My father was ance a landed laird, 

As mony mair have been ; 
But he held on the gambling trade 
Till a 's free lands were dune. 

6 ' My father drank the brandy and beer, 
My mother the wine sae red ; 
Gars me, poor girl, gang maiden lang. 
For the lack o tocher guid.' 

6 There was a troop o merry gentlemen 
Came riding alang the way, 
And one o them drew the ewe-bughts unto. 
At the voice o this lovely may. 



7 ' O well may you sing, my well-far'd maid, 

And well may you sing, I say. 
For this is a mirk and a misty night, 
And I 've ridden out o my way.' 

8 ' Ride on, ride on, young man,' she said, 

* Ride on the way ye ken ; 
But keep frae the streams o the Rock-river, 
For they run proud and vain. 

9 * Ye winna want boys for meat, kind sir, 

And ye winna want men for fee ; 
It sets not us that are young women 
To show young men the way.' 

10 ' winna ye pity me, fair maid ? 

O winna ye pity me ? 
O winna ye pity my poor steed. 
Stands trembling at yon tree ? ' 

11 ' Ride on, ride on, ye rank rider. 

Your steed 's baith stout and Strang ; 
For out o the ewe-bught I winna come. 
For fear that ye do me wrang. 

12 ' For well ken I by your high-colld hat, 

And by your gay gowd ring. 
That ye are the Earl o Rock-rivers, 
That begfuiles a' our young women.' 

13 * I 'm not the Earl o the Rock-rivers, 

Nor ever thinks to be ; 
But I am ane o his finest knights. 
Rides aft in his companie. 

14 ' I know you well by your laraar beads. 

And by your merry winking ee. 



21T. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



205 



That ye are the maid o the Cowdenknowes, 
And may very well seem to be.' 

15 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the grass-green sleeve, 
He 's laid her down by the ewe-bught-wa, 
At her he spiered nae leave. 

16 When he had got his wills o her. 

And his wills he had taen, 
He lifted her up by the middle sae sma, 
Says, Fair maid, rise up again. 

17 Then he has taen out a siller kaim, 

Kaimd down her yellow hair ; 
Says, Fair maid, take that, keep it for my sake. 
Case frae me ye never get mair. 

18 Then he put his hand in his pocket. 

And gien her guineas three ; 
Says, Take that, fair maiden, till I return, 
'T will pay the nurse's fee. 

19 Then he lap on his milk-white steed, 

And he rade after his men. 
And a' that they did say to him, 

* Dear master, ye 've tarried lang.* 

20 * I 've ridden east, I 've ridden west, 

And over the Cowdenknowes, 
But the bonniest lass that eer I did see, 
Was i the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.' 

21 She 's taen her milk-pail on her head. 

And she gaed singing hame ; 
But a' that her auld father did say, 

* Daughter, ye 've tarried lang.' 
* the broom, the bonny, bonny broom. 

The broom o the Cowdenknowes ! 
Aye sae sair 's I may rue the day. 
In the ewe-bughts, milking my ewes. 

22 * O this is a mirk and a misty night, 

O father, as ye may see ; 
The ewes they ran skipping over the knowes. 
And they woudna bught in for me. 



23 



* Before that he 'd taen the lamb that he took, 
I rather he 'd taen other three.' 

24 When twenty weeks were come and gane. 
And twenty weeks and three. 



The lassie's colour grew pale and wan, 
And she longed this knight to see. 

25 Says, * Wae to the fox came amo our flock ! 

I wish he had taen them a' 
Before that he 'd taen frae me what he took ; 
It 's occasiond my downfa.' 

26 It fell ance upon a time 

She was ca'ing hame her kye. 
There came a troop o merry gentlemen, 
And they wyled the bonny lassie by. 

27 But one o them spake as he rode past, 

Says, Who owes the bairn ye are wi ? 
A little she spake, but thought wi hersell, 
' Perhaps to ane as gude as thee.' 

28 then she did blush as he did pass by. 

And dear ! but she thought shame,^ 
And all that she did say to him, 
' Sir, I have a husband at hame.' 

29 * Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-far'd maid, 

Sae loud as I hear you lie ! 
For dinna ye mind yon misty night. 
Ye were in the bught wi me ? 

* the broom, the bonny, bonny broom. 

The broom o the Cowdenknowes ! 
Aye say sweet as I heard you sing, 
In the ewe-bughts, milking your ewes.' 

30 • well do I mind, kind sir,' she said, 

* As ye rode over the hill ; 

Ye took frae me my maidenhead, 
Fell sair against my will. 

* O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 

The broom o the Cowdenknowes ! 
And aye sae sair as I rue the day 
I met you, milking my ewes. 

31 * And aye as ye spake, ye lifted your hat. 

Ye had a merry winking ee ; 
I ken you well to be the man, 
Then kind sir, pity me ! ' 

32 * Win up, win up, fair maiden,' he said, 

* Nae langer here ye '11 stay ; 
This night ye 'se be my wedded wife, 

Without any more delay.' 

33 He lighted aff his milk-white steed 

And set the lassie on ; 



206 



21T. THE BBOOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



* Ca in your kye, auld man,' he did say, 
* She '11 neer ca them in again. 

34 ' I am the Earl o the Rock-rivers, 
Hae fifty ploughs and three. 
And am sure I 've chosen the fairest maid 
That ever my eyes did see.' 



35 Then he stript her o the robes o grey, 
Donned her in the robes o green, 
And when she came to her lord's ha 
They took her to be some queen. 

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom. 

The broom o the Cowdenknowes ! 
And aye sae sweet as the bonny lassie sang, 
That ever she milked the ewes. 



N 

Einloch MSS, I, 145 ; from Mary Barr. 

1 THERE war a troop o merry gentlemen 

Cam riding oure the knowes. 
And they hear the voice o a bonny lass, 
In the buchts, milking the yowes. 

2 * O save thee, save thee, my bonnie may ! 

O saved may ye be ! 
My steed he has riden wrang, 
Fain wad I ken the way.' 

3 She has tane the steed by the bridle-reins. 

Has led him till the way. 
And he has tane out three gowd rings, 
Gien them to that bonnie may. 

4 And he has tane her by the milk-white hand 

And by the gerss-green sleeve. 
And he laid her doun on the side o yon hill, 
At her daddie speird na leave. 

5 Now she has hame to her father gane. 

Her father did her blame : 
* whare hae ye been, my ae dochter ? 
For ye hae na been your lane.' 

6 * O the nicht is mirk, and very, very wet, 

Ye may gang to the door and see ; 
there 's nabody been wi me, father. 
There 's nabody been wi me. 

7 ' But there cam a tod to your bucht, father. 

The like o him I neer saw ; 
Afore you 'd gien him the lamb that he took, 
Ye 'd rather hae gien them a'. 

8 ' O wae be to my father's sheep-hird, 

An ill death may he dee ! 



For bigging the bucht sae nar the road, 
Let the Lochinvar to me ! ' 

9 She 's tane her pig and her cog in her hand. 
And she 's gane to milk the kye ; 
But ere she was aware, the Laird o Lochinvar 
Cam riding in the way. 

10 * O save thee, save thee, my bonnie may ! 

I wish ye may be sound ; 
O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may ! 
What maks thy belly sae round ? * 

11 O she has turnd hersel round about. 

And she within her thoucht shame : 
' O it 's nabody's wills wi me, kind sir, 
For I hae a gudeman o my ain.* 

12 * Ye lee, ye lee, my bonnie may, 

Weel do I ken ye lee ! 
For dinna ye mind o the three gowd rings 
I gied ye o the new moneye ? ' 

13 * O weel do I mind thee, kind sir, 

O weel do I mind thee ; 
For ae whan ye spak ye lifted up your hat, 
And ye had a bonnie twinklin ee.' 

14 * O ye need na toil yoursel, my dear. 

Neither to card nor to spin ; 
For there 's ten pieces I gie unto thee ; 
Keep them for your lying in.' 

15 Now she has hame to her father gane, 

As fast as she could hie ; 
And she was na weel crownd wi joy 
Till her auld son gat she. 

16 But she '11 na tell the daddie o it 

Till father nor to mither, 
And she '11 na tell the daddie o it 
To sister nor to brither. 



217. THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS 



207 



1 7 And word is to the Lochinvar, 

And word is to him gane, 
That sic a tenant's dochter 
Has born a bastard son : 

18 And she '11 na tell the daddie o it 

To father nor to mither, 
And she '11 na tell the daddie o it 
Till sister nor to brither. 

19 * O weel do I ken the reason o that, 

And the reason weel do I ken ; 
O weel ken I the reason o that ; 
It 's to some o her father's men. 

20 ' But I will awa to Littlejohn's house, 

Shule them out o the door ; 
For there 's na tenant on a' my land 
Shall harbour an arrant hure.' 

21 Then out and spak the house-keeper, 

* Ye 'd better lat her abee ; 

For an onie harm befa this may, 

A' the wyte will be on me.' 

22 O he has turnd himsel round about. 

Within himsel thoueht he 
♦Better do I loe her little finger 
Than a' thy haili bodie. 

23 ' Gae saddle to me my six coach-mares. 

Put a' their harness on, 



And I will awa to Littlejohn's house 
For reports o this bastard son.' 

24 Now whan he cam to Littlejohn's house, 

Littlejohn was at the door : 
' Ye rascal, ye rogue, ye impudent dog. 
Will ye harbour an arrant hure ! ' 

25 ' O pardon me, my sovereign liege, 

O pardon me, I pray ; 
Oh that the nicht that she was born 
She 'd deed the very neist day ! * 

26 But he is in to his bonnie lassie gane, 

And has bolted the door behind, 
And there he has kissd his bonnie lassie sweet. 
It 's over and over again. 

27 * Ye did weel, ye did weel, my bonnie may, 

To keep the secret twixt me and thee ; 
For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair. 
The lady o 't I '11 mak thee. 

28 * Come donn, come doun, now gentlemen a', 

And set this fair lady on ; 
Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will, 
For she '11 neer milk them again. 

29 ' For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair, 

O thirty plows and three, 
And I hae gotten the bonniest may 
That 's in a' the south counti'ie.' 



B. a. 6 should probably come before 5. 9^. Whare. 
b. 2^^. lassie shew. 

6^ But when twenty weeks were. 

5'. O twenty weeks and three. 

6'. lassie began to grow pale and wan. 

6^ father's herd. 6*. And wadna bide wi me. 

9^ loud's. 

11. He was the laird of Auchentrone, 
With fifty ploughs and three, 
And he has gotten the bonniest lass 
In a' the south countrie. 

0. 3». if he. 

Kinloch has made changes in his printed copy. 
D. 1. Oh. 

1*. Changed later to ay as she sang, her. 
2*. Burden : To see. 
3*. Changed to oxA owx. 



5*. axit in the burden. 6^ But quhan. 

7*. neer inserted later after ye '11. 

Burden : It 's ye '11 see me. 

8^. purse-string originally. 8'. in 3. 

8*. It will ; t seems to be crossed out. I in the 

burden. 
9^ fit originally, altered to fut, or fot. 
13*. Originally, An afore the ane he took. 
15^. Changed to and a bonnie simmer day. 
le^'^. Quha. 172. Changed to Sae loud 's. 
The first stanza is given by Motherwell, Min- 
strelsy, Appendix, xvii, X, under the title 
'Ochiltree Walls,' with the variation, 
May, bonnie May. 
B. 2\ Oh. 

I. Kinloch has made changes in his printed copy. 
J. 11*. thee for me. 
L. 4*. fair, vain ? Cf M, 8*. 



t. 



208 



217. THE BROOM OF COWBBNKNOWS 



APPENDIX 



THE LOVELY NORTHEENE LASSE 

a. Roxbnrghe Ballads, I, 190, in the Ballad Society's re- 
pi-int, ed. W. Chappell, I, 587. b. Eawlinsoa Ballads, 566, 
fol. 205. 

a WAS printed at London for F. Coules, who, ac- 
cording to Mr Chappell, flourished during the last 
five years of James First's reign and throughout 
that of Charles First : dated by Mr Bullen, 1640. 
b was printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright, 
1655-80 (Chappell). There is another copy in the 
Euing collection, No 166, printed for F'rancis Coles 
in the Old Bayly, who may be the same person as 
the printer of a ; and a fourth in the Douce collec- 
tion, II, 137, verso, without printer's name. A 
copy differing from a by only three words is given 
by R. H. Evans, Old Ballads, 1810, I, 88. 

Burton, in the fifth edition of his Anatomy of 
Melancholy, Oxford, 1638, p. 636, says : " The very 
rusticks and hog-rubbers . . . have their ballads, 
country tunes, the broome, the bonny, bonny 
broome," etc. (Chappell). This remark is not found 
in the fourth edition, Oxford, 1632, p. 544. Con- 
cerning the air, see Chappell's Popular Music, 
pp. 458-61, 613, 783. 

The Lovely Nobthebnb Lasse. 

Who in this ditty, here complainino:, shewes 
What harme she got, milking her dadyes ewes. 

To a pleasant Scotch tune, called The broom of 
Cowden Knowes. 

1 Through Liddersdale as lately I went, 

I musing on did passe ; 
I heard a maid was discontent, 

she sighd, and said, Alas ! 
All maids that ever deceived was 

beare a part of these my woes. 
For once I was a bonny lasse, 

when I milkt my dadyes ewes. 
With, the broome, the bonny broome, 

the broome of Cowdon Knowes ! 
Faine would I be in the North Countrey, 

to milke my dadyes ewes. 

2 * My love into the fields did come, 

when my dady was at home ; 
Sugred words he gave me there, 

praisd me for such a one. 
His honey breath and lips so soft, 

and his alluring eye 
And tempting tong, hath woo'd me oft, 

now forces me to cry, 
All maids, &c. 



8 ' He joyed me with his pretty chat, 

so well discourse could he, 
Talking of this thing and of that, 

which greatly liked me. 
I was so greatly taken with his speech, 

and with his comely making ; 
He used all the meanes could be 

to inchant me with his speaking. 

4 ' In Danby Forest I was borne ; 

my beauty did excell ; 
My parents dearely loved me 

till my belly began to swell. 
I might have beene a prince's peere 

when I came over the knoes, 
Till the shepherds boy beguiled me, 

milking my dadyes ewes. 

5 * When once I felt my belly swell, 

no longer might I abide; 
My mother put me out of doores, 

and bangd me backe and side. 
Then did I range the world so wide, 

wandering about the knoes. 
Cursing the boy that helped me 

to fold my dadyes ewes. 

6 ' Who would have thought a boy so young 

would have usd a maiden so 
As to allure her with his tongue, 

and then from her to goe? 
Which hath also procured my woe, 

to credit his faire shewes, 
Which now too late repent I doe, 

the milking of the ewes. 

7 * I often since have wisht that I 

had never seen his face ; 
I needed not thus mournef ully 

have sighed, and said Alas! 
I might have matched with the best, 

as all the country knowes, 
Had I escaped the shepherds boy 

belpt me to fold my ewes. 

8 * All maidens faire, then have a care 

when you a milking goe ; 
Trust not to young men's tempting tongues, 

that will deceive you so. 
Them you shall finde to be unkinde 

and glory in your woes ; 
For the shepheards boy beguiled mee 

folding my dadyes ewes.' 

9 * If you your virgin honours keepe, 

esteeming of them deare, 
You need not then to waile and weepe, 
or your parents anger feare. 



218. THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK 



209 



As I have said, of tbem beware 

would glory in your woes ; 
You then may sing with merry cheere, 

milking your dadyes ewes.' 

10 A young man, hearing her complaint, 

dill pity this her case, 
Saying to her, Sweet beautious saint, 

I grieve so faire a face 
Should sorrow so; then, sweeting, know, 

to ease thee of thy woes, 
He goe with thee to the North Country, 

to milke thy dadyes ewes. 

11 * Leander like, I will remaine 

still constant to thee ever, 
As Piramus, or Troyalus, 

till death our lives shall sever. 
Let me be hated evermore, 

of all men that me knowes, 
If false to thee, sweet heart, I bee, 

milking thy dadyes ewes.* 

12 Then modestly she did reply, 

' Might I so happy bee 



Of you to finde a husband kinde, 

and for to marrie me, 
Then to you I would during life 

continue constant still. 
And be a true, obedient wife, 

observing of your will. 
With, the broiime, the bonny broomed 

the broome of Cowden Knoes ! 
Faine would I be in the North Country^ 

milking my dadyes ewes. 

13 Thus, with a gentle soft imbrace, 

he tooke her in his arnies. 
And with a kisse he smiling said, 

' lie shield thee from all harmes, 
And instantly will marry thee, 

to ease thee of thy woes. 
And goe with thee to the North Country, 

to milke thy dadyes ewes.' 
With, the broome, the bonny broome, 

the broome of Cowden Knoes ! 
Faine would I be in the North Country^ 

to milke my dadyes ewes. 



a. After 7 : The Second Part. 

b. Title: in the ditty. 

2^. field. 2:K from home. 5*. amongst ^r about. 
6". So to. 6^. hath alas. 7. Wanting. 



8*. Then. 9^ virgins. 

10^ I know. 138. rnyybrthy. 

139. -With o the broom, &c. 



218 
THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK 



A. 'The Fause Lover,' Buchan's MSS, I, 114; Buch- 
an's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 268. 



B. * The place where my love Johnny dwells,' Christie's 
Traditional Ballad Abs, I, 144. 



A YOUNG man is deserting one maid for 
another. The object of his new fancy lives 
at a distance, and he is on his way to her. He 
is followed by his old love from stage to stage ; 
he repelling her, and she tenderly remonstrat- 
ing. His heart gradually softens; he buys 
her gifts from town to town, and though each 
time he bids her go back, he ends with buying 



her a wedding gown (ring) and marrying 
her. 

Two pretty stanzas in A, 4, 5, seem not 
to belong to this story. The inconstant 
youth would have been only too glad to have 
the faithful maid look to other men, and gives 
her all liberty to do so. These two stanzas are 
first found in Herd's MSS, I, 53, and in 



VOL. rv. 



27 



210 



218. THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK 



Herd's Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, 
1776, II, 6, as follows : 

False luve, and hae ye played me this, 
In the simmer, mid the flowers ? 

I sail repay ye back agen. 

In the winter, mid the showers. 

Bot again, dear luve, and again, dear luve. 

Will ye not turn again ? 
As ye look to ither women, 

Sail I to ither men. 

In a manuscript at Abbotsford, entitled 
Scottish Songs, 1795 (containing pieces dated 
up to 1806), fol. 69, they stand thus : 

False luve, and hae ye played me this, 
In simmer amang the flowers ? 



I shall repay you back agen 
In winter amang the showers. 

Unless again, again, dear luve. 

But if ye turn agen, 
As ye look other women to, 

Sail I to other men. 

Scott has put these verses, a little varied, 
into Davie Gellatley's mouth, in the ninth 
chapter of * Waverley.' The first, with a 
change, occurs also in *The Gardener,' No 
219, A 7, B 15, 3. 

A is translated by Rosa Warrens, Schot- 
tische Volkslieder, p. 141, No 32 ; by Gerhard, 
p. 114. 



A 

Buchan's MSS, 1, 114. 

1 A FAIR maid sat in her bower-door, 

"Wringing her lily hands. 
And by it came a sprightly youth. 
Fast tripping oer the strands. 

2 * Where gang ye, young John,' she says, 

* Sae early in the day ? 
It gars me think, by your fast trip. 
Your journey 's far away.' 

3 He tumd about wi surly look. 

And said, What 's that to thee ? 
I 'm gaen to see a lovely maid, 
Mair fairer far than ye. 

4 ' Now hae ye playd me this, f ause love, 

In simmer, mid the flowers ? 
I shall repay ye back again. 
In winter, mid the showers. 

5 ' But again, dear love, and again, dear love. 

Will ye not turn again ? 
For as ye look to other women, 
I shall to other men.' 

6 ' Make your choice of whom you please. 

For I my choice will have ; 



I 've chosen a maid more fair than thee, 
I never will deceive.' 

7 But she 's kilt up her claithing fine, 

And after him gaed she ; 
But aye he said, Ye '11 turn again, 
Nae farder gae wi me. 

8 * But again, dear love, and again, dear love. 

Will ye never love me again ? 
Alas for loving you sae well. 
And you nae me again ! ' 

9 The first an town that they came till. 

He bought her brooch and ring ; 
And aye he bade her turn again. 
And gang nae farder wi him. 

10 * But again, dear love, and again, dear love. 

Will ye never love me again ? 
Alas for loving you sae well. 
And you nae me again ! ' 

11 The next an town that they came till. 

He bought her muff and gloves ; 
But aye he bade her turn again. 
And choose some other loves. 

12 ' But again, dear love, and again, dear love, 

Will ye never love me again ? 



218. THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK 



211 



Alas for loving you sae well, 
And you nae me again ! ' 

13 The next an town that they came till, 
His heart it grew mair fain, 
And he was as deep in love wi her 
As she was ower again. 



14 The next an town that they came till, 
He bought her wedding gown, 
And made her lady of ha's and bowers. 
Into sweet Berwick town. 



Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, 1, 144 ; from the reci- 
tation of a woman born in Buchan. 

1 The sun shines high on yonder hill, 

And low on yonder town ; 
In the place where my love Johnny dwells. 
The sun gaes never down. 

2 ' O when will ye be back, bonny lad, 

O when will ye be hame ? ' 
* When heather-hills are nine times brunt, 
And a' grown green again.' 



3 * O that 's ower lang awa, bonny lad, 
O that 's ower lang frae hame ; 



W/ 



.', ^1' 



k 



I . t^ 



For I '11 be dead and in my grave ^, jC' >>i 
Ere ye come back again.' M; t^ ^ 

\\r^V 9 

4 He put his foot into the stirrup 
And said he maun go ride, 
But she kilted up her green claithing 
And said she woudna bide. 



10 



5 The firsten town that they came to. 
He bought her hose and sheen, 



And bade her rue and return again, 
And gang nae farther wi him. 

' Ye likena me at a', bonny lad. 
Ye likena me at a' ; ' 

* It 's sair for you likes me sae weel 

And me nae you at a'.' 

The nexten town that they came to. 
He bought her a braw new gown. 

And bade her rue and return again. 
And gang nae farther wi him. 

The nexten town that they came to, 
He bought her a wedding ring, 

And bade her dry her rosy cheeks. 
And he would tak her wi him. 

* O wae be to your bonny face, 

And your twa blinkin een ! 
And wae be to your rosy cheeks ! 
They 've stown this heart o mine. 

' There 's comfort for the comfortless. 
There 's honey for the bee ; 

There's comfort for the comfortless, 
There 's naue but you for me.' 



A. 9^ first and : come. 11^ 13^ next and. 

Variations in Buchan's Ballads of the North 
of Scotland, I, 268. 



5*. Shall I. 6*. your choose. 7*. turn back. 
7*. gang. 11, 12. Omitted. 13*. as wanting. 
14^ In bonny Berwick. 



k 



212 



219. THE GARDENER 



219 

THE GARDENER 

A. Kinloch MSS, V, 47. « The Gardener,' Kinloch B. ' The Gardener Lad,' Buchan's Ballads of the North 
MSS, VII, 19; Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, of Scotland, II, 187. 

p. 74. 

C. Fragment communicated by Dr Thomas Davidson. 



A GAEDENER will apparel a maid from head the preceding ballad, and perhaps belonged 



to foot with flowers, if she will be his bride. 
He gets a wintry answer: the snow shall be 
his shirt, the wind his hat, the rain his coat. 

B 1-6 is mere jargon, foisted into this 
pretty ballad as a preface. 

A 7, B 15, O 3, is found, substantially, in 



originally to neither. 

Freely translated from A and B by Rosa 
Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, p. 134, 
No 30. 



Kinloch MSS, V, 47, in the handwriting of James Beat- 
tie ; from the recitation of his aunt, Miss Elizabeth Beattie. 

1 The gardener stands in his bower-door, 

With a primrose in his hand. 
And by there came a leal maiden, 

As jimp 's a willow wand. 
And by, etc. 

2 ' lady, can you fancy me, 

For to be my bride. 
You '11 get a' the flowers in my garden, 
To be to you a weed. 

3 * The lily white shall be your smock ; 

Becomes your body neat ; 
And your head shall be deckd with jelly- 
flower. 
And the prinu'ose in your breast. 

4 ' Your gown shall be o the sweet-william, 

Your coat o camovine. 
And your apron o the salads neat, 
That taste baith sweet and fine. 



6 ' Your stockings shall be o the broad kail-blade. 
That is baith broad and long ; 
And narrow, narrow at the coot, 
And broad, broad at the brawn. 

6 ' Your gloves shall be the marygold, 

All glittering to your hand. 
Well spread oer wi the blue blaewort. 
That grows in corn-land.' 

7 * O fare you well, young man,' she says, 

* Farewell, and I bid adieu ; 
Since you 've provided a weed for me. 

Among the summer flowers. 
Then I 'U provide another for you, 

Among the winter showers. 

8 ' The new-fallen snow to be your smock ; 

Becomes your body neat ; 
And your head shall be deckd with the eastern 
wind. 
And the cold rain on your breast.' 



219. THE GARDENER 



213 



B 



Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 187 

1 All ye young men, I pray draw near, 

I '11 let you hear my mind 
Concerning those who fickle are, 
And inconstant as the wind. 

2 A pretty maid who late livd here, 

And sweethearts many had, 
The gardener-lad he viewd them all, 
Just as they came and gaed. 

3 The gardener-lad he viewd them all, 

But swore he had no skill : 
' If I were to go as oft to her. 
Ye surely would me kill. 

4 ' I 'm sure she 's not a proper maid, 

I 'm sure she is not tall ; ' 
Another young man standing by. 
He said, Slight none at all. 

6 * For we 're all come of woman,' he said, 
' If ye woud call to mind, 
And to all women for her sake 
Ye surely should be kind.' 

6 * The summer hours and warm showers 

Make the trees yield in the ground. 
And kindly words will woman win. 
And this maid I '11 surround.' 

7 The maid then stood in her bower-door, 

As straight as ony wand, 
When by it came the gardener-lad. 
With his hat in his hand. 

8 ' Will ye live on fruit,' he said ? 

' Or will ye marry me ? 
And amongst the flowers in my garden 
I '11 shape a weed for thee.' 

9 * I will live on fruit,' she says, 

* But I '11 never marry thee ; 
For I can live without mankind. 
And without mankind I '11 die.' 



10 * Ye shall not live without mankind. 

If ye '11 accept of me ; 
For among the flowers in my garden 
I '11 shape a weed for thee. 

11 * The lily white to be your smock ; 

Becomes your body best; 
And the jelly-flower to be your quill, 
And the red rose in your breast. 

12 * Your gown shall be o the pingo white, 

Your petticoat cammovine. 
Your apron o the seel o downs ; 
Come smile, sweet heart o mine ! 

13 ' Your shoes shall be o the gude rue red — 

Never did I garden ill — 
Your stockings o the mary mild ; 
Come smile, sweet heart, your fill ! 

14 ' Your gloves shall be o the green clover. 

Comes lockerin to your hand, 

Well dropped oer wi blue blavers. 

That grow among white land.' 

15 'Young man, ye 've shap'd a weed for me. 

In summer among your flowers ; 
Now I will shape another for ybu, 
Among the winter showers. 

16 * The snow so white shall be your shirt ; 

It becomes your body best ; 
The cold bleak wind to be your coat. 
And the cold wind in your breast. 

17 ' The steed that you shall ride upon 

Shall be o the weather snell, 
Well bridled wi the northern wind, 
And cold sharp showers o hail. 

18 * The hat you on your head shall wear 

Shall be o the weather gray, 
And aye when you come into my sight 
I '11 wish you were away.' 



214 



220. THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY 



Communicated from memory by Dr Thomas Davidson as 
learned in Old Deer, Aberdeenshire. 

1 BuBD Ellen stands in her bower-door, 

As straucht 's a hollan wand, 
And by it comes the gairdner-lad, 
Wi a red rose in his hand. 

2 Says, I have shapen a weed for thee 

Amang my simmer flowers ; 



3 * Gin ye hae shapen a weed for me, 

Amang your simmer flowers. 
It 's I '11 repay ye back again, 
Amang the winter showers. 

4 ' The steed that ye sail ride upon 

Sail be o the frost sae snell, 
And I '11 saddle him wi the norlan winds, 
And some sharp showers o hail.* 



A. Kinloch has made changes in MSS, VII, 19, 

which appear in his printed copy. 
C. 2. " He goes on to describe his weed, promising 



to array her in flowers more gorgeously 
than Solomon in all his glory." 
4. " She continues, after the same style." 



220 



THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY 



A. 'The Bonny Lass of Anglesey,* Herd's MSS, I, 
148; Herd's Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, 
1776, n, 231. 



B. * The Bonny Lass o Englessie's Dance,' Buchan's 
Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 63. 



y- 



r 



This little ballad might perhaps rightfully 
have come in earlier, if I had known what to 
make of it. There is a resemblance, remark- 
able as far as it goes, to ' Little Kirstin's 
Dance,' Grundtvig, V, 118, No 263. Here the 
dance is for a match ; the lass asks what she 
is to have if she wins, and is promised fifteen 
(five) ploughs and a mill, and her cboice of the 
king's knights for a husband. In the Danish 
ballad (A), a king's son, to induce Little 
Kirstin to dance before him, promises a suc- 
cession of gifts, none of which avail until he 
plights his honor and troth. The remainder 
of the story is like the conclusion of * Gil 



Brenton,' No 5 : see especially I, 66. (Dan- 
ish A is translated by Prior, III, 89, No 112.) 

Kirstin tires out fifteen knights in Danish 
A 12, B 10, D 14 (in C 7 eleven) ; and a 
Kirstin tires out fifteen partners again in 
Grundtvig, No 126, P 32, No 245, A 16. In 
Norwegian versions of No 263, given by 
Grundtvig in an appendix, numbers are not 
specified; Kirstin in Norwegian A 6, D 18, 
tires out all the king's knights. 

Buchan quite frightens one by what he says ' 
of his version, II, 314: "It is altogether a 
political piece, and I do not wish to interfere 
much with it." 



220. THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY 



215 



Herd's MSS, I, 148. 

1 OuB king he has a secret to tell, 

And ay well keepit it must be : 

The English lords are coming down 

To dance and win the victory. 

2 Our king has cry'd a noble cry, 

And ay well keepit it must be : 
* Gar saddle ye, and bring to me 
The bonny lass of Anglesey.' 

3 Up she starts, as white as the milk, 

Between him and his company : 
What is the thing I hae to ask. 
If I sould win the victory ? * 



4 < Fifteen ploughs but and a mill 
I gie thee till the day thou die, 
And the fairest knight in a' my court 
To chuse thy husband for to be.' 

6 She *8 taen the fifteen lord[8] by the hand, 
Saying, ' Will ye come dance with me ? * 
But on the morn at ten o'clock 
They gave it oer most shamefully. 

6 Up then rais the fifteenth lord — 

I wat an angry man was he — 
Laid by f rae him his belt and sword. 
And to the floor gaed manfully. 

7 He said, * My feet shall be ray dead 

Before she win the victory ; ' 
But before 't was ten o'clock at night 
He gaed it oer as shamefully. 



Bucban's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 63. 

1 Word has gane thro a' this land. 

And O well noticed it maun be ! 

The English lords are coming down 

To dance and gain the victorie. 

2 The king has made a noble cry, 

And well attended it maan be : 
* Come saddle ye, and bring to me 
The bonny lass o Englessie.' 

3 She started up, a' dress'd in white. 

Between him and his companie ; 
Said, What will ye gie, my royal liege, 
If I will dance this dance for thee ? 



4 * Five good ploughs but and a mill 

I 'U give you till the day ye die ; 
The bravest knight in all my court, 
I 'U give, your husband for to be.' 

5 She 's taen the first lord by the hand. 

Says, ' Ye '11 rise up and dance wi me ; * 
But she made a' these lords fifeteen 
To gie it up right shamefullie. 

6 Then out it speaks a younger lord, 

Says, * Fye for shame ! how can this be ? ' 
He loosd his brand frae aff his side, 
Likewise his buckler frae his knee. 

7 He sware his feet should be his dead 

Before he lost the victorie ; 
He danc'd full fast, but tired at last. 
And gae it up as shamefullie. 



A. 1', 2". we '11 keep it must and be. 



216 



321. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



221 
KATHARINE JAFFRAY 

A. a. < Katharine Jaffray,' Herd's MSS, T, 61, 11, 56. G. 'Catharine Jaffery,' Maidment's North Countrie 
b. The Aldine edition of Burns, 1839, 111, 181, four Garland, 1824, p. 34. 

stanzas. 

H. Kinloch MSS, V, 313. 

B. *The Lau:d of Laminton,' Herd's MSS, I, 164, 

II, 58. I. Motherwell's MS., p. 327. 

C. 'Katherine Jaffarie,' "Scotch Ballads, Materials J. * Catherine Johnson,' Motherwell's MS., p. 75; 
for Border Minstrelsy," No 30, Abbotsford. ' Catherine Johnstone,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827, 

p. 225. 

D. ' The Laird of Laminton,* " Scotch Ballads, Mate- 
rials for Border Minstrelsy," No 3, Abbotsford. K. * Loch-in-var,' Buchan's Gleanings, 1825, p. 74. 



E. * Cathriae Jaffray,' Skene MS., p. 81. 

P. * Catherine Janferry,' Kinloch MSS, V, 815. 



L. Macmath MS., p. 72, two stanzas. 



/( 



The ballad was first published by Sir Wal- 
ter Scott, under the title ' The Laird of Lam- 
inton,' in the first edition of the Minstrelsy, 
1802, 1, 216. This copy was fashioned by the 
editor from two in Herd's MSS, A, B. In 
later editions of the Minstrelsy (III, 122, 
1833), the ballad was given, with the title 
Katharine Janfarie, "in a more perfect state, 
from several recited copies." Twelve stanzas 
out of twenty-one, however, are repeated from 
the first edition. Much the larger part of 
what is not in Herd is taken from C ; the 
name Lochinvar is adopted from D.* A few 
peculiar readings may be from copies now not 
known, or may be the editor's. 

The ballad in Christie, IT, 16, is Scott's 
later copy, with the omission of the 16th 
stanza. That in Nimmo's Songs and Ballads 
of Clydesdale, p. 141, is J, from Motherwell's 
Minstrelsy. 

A Scots laird wooes a Scots maid and wins 

♦ Of D, W. Laidlaw writes as follows, September 11, 
1802 : "I had the surprise of a visit from my crack-brained 
acquaintance Mr Bartram of Biggar, the other day. He 
brought me a copy of the * Laird of Laminton,' which has 
greatly disappointed my expectations. It is composed of 
those you have and some nonsense. But it overturns the 



her favor. An English laird or lord, very 
liberal as to gowd and gear, comes to court 
the same lass, gains the consent of her friends 
(who had at least made no opposition to the 
earlier suit), and sets the wedding-day. The 
first lover comes to the wedding, backed by a 
strong body of armed men, whom he keeps 
out of sight. He is asked why he has come ; 
it is for a sight of the bride or a word with 
her, or to take a glass of wine with her or the 
bridegroom, and this had he will go away. 
Getting near the bride on this pretence, he 
swings her on to his horse and is off. A 
bloody fight follows, but the bride is not re- 
trieved. Englishmen may take warning by 
this not to seek wives in Scotland ; it will 
always end in their being tricked and balked. 
The attitude of the young woman to her 
first lover is not distinctly brought out in sev- 
eral copies. That she had jilted him in favor 
of a wealthier Englishman would probably 

tradition of this country, for it makes the wedding and bat- 
tle to have been at Lauchinwar." Letters addressed to Sir 
Walter Scott, I, No 73, Abbotsford. 

For the particulars of the compilation of the copies in the 
Minstrelsy, see the notes to B, C. 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



217 



not lessen the Scot's pleasure in carrying her 
off. In E 18, she does not go willingly ; she 
greets and wrings her hands, and says it 's 
foul play.* In P 2, G 2, the first lover openly 
charges her with changing and foul play, and 
such is the implication in E 13. In B 14, the 
bride, seeing the bloodshed, exclaims, Wae 's 
me for foul play ! and her lover replies, Wae 
to your wilful will for causing so much good 
blood to be spilt! from which we must infer a 
fault on her part. I 2 has the ambiguous line 
*and his love drew away,' which cannot be 
interpreted to mean that the first lover was 
inconstant without flying in the face of all 
the other copies. D, J, K, unequivocally rep- 
resent the lass as faithful to her first love. 
The bridegroom, in these versions, arranges 
the match with tha family, and does not men- 
tion the matter to the lass until the wedding- 
day : so in O, H. f She sends word to her 
lover that if he will come for her she will go 
with him, D; writes 'to let him understand,' 
J, K, and not to pay him the cold compliment 
of an invitation to see her wed the man that 
has supplanted him, as in B 3, E 5, P 5, I 3. 

In E 7-9, while the first lover is drinking 
with his comrades they incite him to carry off 
the bride on her wedding-day ; so G 6, with- 
out explanation of the circumstances. In 
E 7-9, 12-15, he goes to the bridal-house, and 
sitting at a table vents words which the other 
guests cannot understand : there was a young 
man who loved a lass that to-day goes another 
man's bride, and plays her old love foul play ; 
had he been so served, he would take the bride 
away. Upon this the English ask if he wishes 
a fight. There is something of this in B 7-10, 
P 13, 14, G 11-14. 

The lover would wish to keep the strong 
body of men that he had brought with him 

* This phrase, owing to the accidents of tradition, comes 
in without much pertinency in some places; as in A 11, 
JSi 22, where she gars the trumpet sound foul play (altered 
in J 17, 18, to ' a weel won play ' and ' a' fair play ' ). 

t And in A, as here printed ; hut in the MS., by misplace- 
ment of 3, 5, the lover is absurdly made to omit telling the 
lass till her wedding-day. 

X Foiir-and-twenty bonnie boys of the bridegroom's party 
are in C 13 clad in ' the simple gray ; ' for which Scott reads 
'Johnstone prey,' 'the livery of the ancient family of 
Johnstone.' This circumstance, says this editor, appears to 
support J, " which gives Katharine the surname of John- 

VOL. IV. 28 



quite in the background until their cue came. 
When, therefore, in I 8, 9, the bridegroom's 
friends ask him what was that troop of 
younkers they had seen, he puts them off with 
the phrase, It must have been the Fairy 
Court ; so in L. In B 5, 6 (where a stanza, 
and more, has dropped out), when the bride- 
groom sees this troop from a high window, 
the bride (from incredulity, it must be, and 
not because she is in concert with her old 
lover) says he must have seen the Fairy Court. 
G 15, 16, where the phrase comes in again, 
seems to have suffered corruption; any way, 
the passage is not quite intelligible to me. 

Katharine Jaffray (Jamphray, Janfarie) is 
the lass's name in A, C-G, K, L ; Katharine 
Johnstone J in J ; in B, H, I, she is nameless. 

The lover is Lochinvar in E, P, G, I, K, 
L (note) ; Lamington in D, H, J ; Lauder- 
dale in A, C ; he has no name in B. The 
bridegroom is Lochinvar in D, H; Lamington 
in B, Lymingtcn, K; Lauderdale in P, G; 
Lochinton A, Lamendall E, Limberdale I 
(obvious mixtures of the preceding) ; Faugh- 
anwood in C; in J he has no name. The , 
bridegroom should be 'an Englishman, but 
Lochinvar, Lamington, and Lauderdale are all 
south-Scottish names. B puts a Scot from the ' 
North Country in place of the titular English- 
man of the other copies, but this Norland 
man is laird of Lamington. 

The place of the fight is Cadan bank and 
Cadan brae, C, D ; Cowden bank (banks) 
and Cowden brae (braes). A, H, J, the va- 
riation being perhaps due to the very familiar 
Cowdenknows ; CalHen, Caylin, Caley bank 
(buss) and brae, in E, I, P ; Foudiin dyke and 
Foudlin stane in K. No place is named in 
B, G §. In I, the lass lives in Bordershellin. 

A copy from the recitation of a young 

stone." But the grey is the livery of Lord ' Faughanwood* 
in C, and the Johnstone seems to be a purely capricious 
venture of Scott's. 

§ " Caddon bank," says W. Laidlaw in a letter to Scott, 
September 28, [1802], "is a very difficult pass on Tweedside 
opposite Innerliethen. The road is now formed through 
the plantation of firs. The bank is exceedingly steep, and 
I would not think it difficult even yet with ten clever fellows 
to give a hundred horsemen a vast of trouble." Letters 
addressed to Sir Walter Scott, I, No 74, Abbotsford. — Cal- 
lien, etc., may be taken to be corruptions of Caden. Foud- 
lin, in the northern K, might be Foudland, Aberdeenshire. 



218 



221. KATHARINE JAFFBAY 



Irishwoman living in Taunton, Massachusetts 
(learned from print, I suppose, and in parts 
imperfectly remembered), puts the scene of 
the story at Edenborough town. A squire 
of high degree had courted a comely country 
girl. When her father came to hear of this, 
he was an angry man, and " requested of his 
daughter dear to suit his company," or to 
match within her degree. The only son of a 
farmer in the east had courted this girl until 
he thought he had won her, and had got the 
consent of her father and mother. The girl 
writes the squire a letter to tell him that she 
is to be married to the farmer's son. He 
writes in answer that she must dress in green 
at her wedding (a color which no Scots girl 
would wear, for ill luck), and he will wear a 
suit of the same, and wed her ' in spite of all 
that 's there.' He mounts eight squire-men 
on milk-white steeds, and rides ' to the wed- 
ding-house, with the company dressed in 
green.' (See the note to L.) 

* O welcome you, fair welcome ! 

And where have you spent all day ? 
Or did yon see those gentlemen 
That rode along this way ? * 

He looked at her and scoffed at her, 
He smiled and this did say, 

* They might have been some fairy troops, 

That rode along this way.* 

She fills him a glass of new port wine, 
which he drinks to all the company, saying, 
Happy is the man that is called the groom, 
but another may love her as well as he and 
take her from his side. 

* The heroine of this ballad, an historical lady of high 
rank, was the third in a regular line to be forcibly carried 
off by a lover. The date is 1287. Her mother and her 
grandmother were taken by the strong hand out of a con- 
vent in 1245 and about 1210; these much against their will, 



Up spoke the intended groom, 

And an angry man was he, 
Saying, If it is to fight that you came here, 

I am the man for thee. 

_ * It is not to fight that I came here, 
But friendship for to show ; 
So give me one kiss from your lovely bride, 
And away from you I '11 go.* 

He took her by the waist so small, 

And by the grass-green sleeve ; 
He took her out of the wedding-house, 

Of the company asked no leave. 

The drums did beat and the trumpets sound, 

Most glorious to be seen, 
And then away to Edenborough town, 

"With the company dressed in green. 

Scott's Lochinvar, in the fifth canto of 
Marmion, was modelled on ' Katharine Jaf- 
fray.' 

Another ballad (but a much later and in- 
ferior) in which a lover carries off a bride on 
her wedding-day is 'Lord William,' otherwise \/ 

* Lord Lundy,' to be given further on. yj" 

A Norse ballad of the same description is 

* Magnus Algots0n,' Grundtvig, No 181, III, 
734,* Syv, No 77, = « Ungen Essendal,' Kris- 
tensen, Jydske Folkeminder, I, 104, No 41, 
*Hr. Essendal,' X, 247, No 61, A, B. Syv's 
version is translated by Jamieson, Illustrations 
of Northern Antiquities, p. 335. 

Scott's ballad is translated by Schubart, 
p. 198, Doenniges, p. 15. Knortz, Schottische 
Balladen, p. 65, translates Aytoun. 

the other not so reluctantly, according to ballads in which 
they are celebrated, for curiously enough each hns her bal- 
lad. See Grundtvig, vol. iii, Nos 138, l.'JS, and No. 181, as 
above, and his remarks, p. 234, third note, and p. 738 f . 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



219 



a. Herd's MSS, I, 61, II, 56. b. The Aldine edition of 
Burns's Poems, by Sir Harris Nicolas, 1839, III, 181, from 
Burns's autograph. 



fJ'^J^ 



1 There livd a lass in yonder dale, 

And doun in yonder glen, 
And Kathrine Jaffray was her name, 
Well known by many men. 

2 Out came the Laird of Lauderdale, 

Out frae the South Countrie, 
All for to court this pretty maid. 
Her bridegroom for to be. 

3 He has teld her father and mither baith, 

And a' the rest o her kin, 
And has teld the lass hersell, 
And her consent has win. 

4 Then came the Laird of Lochinton, 

Out frae the English border, 

All for to court this pretty maid. 

Well mounted in good order. 

5 He 's teld her father and mither baith. 

As I hear sindry say. 
But he has nae teld the lass her sell, 
Till on her wedding day. 

6 When day was set, and friends were met. 

And married to be. 
Lord Lauderdale came to the place, 
The bridal for to see. 



7 * O are you came for sport, young man r 

Or are you come for play ? 
Or are you come for a sight o our bride, 
Just on her wedding day ? ' 

8 * I *m nouther come for sport,' he says, 

' Nor am I come for play ; 
But if I had one sight o your bride, 
I '11 mount and ride away.' 

9 There was a glass of the red wine 

Filld up them atween. 
And ay she drank to Lauderdale, 
Wha her true-love had been. 

10 Then he took her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the grass-green sleeve. 
And he mounted her high behind him there. 
At the bridegroom he askt nae leive. 

11 Then the blude run down by the Cowden Banks, 

And down by Cowden Braes, 
And ay she gard the trumpet sound, 
' O this is foul, foul play ! ' 

12 Now a' ye that in England are. 

Or are in England born. 
Come nere to Scotland to court a lass. 
Or else ye '1 get the scorn. 

13 They haik ye up and settle ye by, 

Till on your wedding day. 
And gie ye frogs instead o fish. 
And play ye foul, foul play. 



B 

Herd's MSS, I, 164, II, 58. 

1 The gallant laird of Lamington 

Cam frae the North Countree 
To court a gallant gay lady. 
And wi presents entered he. 

2 He neither stood for gould nor gear — 

For she was a well-fared may — 
And whan he got her friends' consent 
He set the wedding-day. 

3 She 's sent unto her first fere love. 

Gin he would come to see. 



And he has sent word back again 
Weel answered should she be. 

4 He has sent a messenger 

Right quietly throe the land, 
Wi mony armed men, 
To be at his command. 

5 The bridegroom looked out at a high window, 

Beheld baith dool and doon. 
And there he spied her first fere love, 
Come riding to the toun. 

6 She scoffed and she scorned him, 

Upo the wedding-day. 



220 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



> 



And said it had been the Fairy Court 
That he had seen in array. 

7 But as he sat at yon table-head, 

Amo yon gentlemen, 
And he began to speak some words 
That na ane there could ken. 

8 ' There is a lass into this town — 

She is a weel-far'd may — 
She is another man's bride today, 
But she '11 play him foul play.* 

9 Up did start the bonny bridegroom. 

His hat into his hand, 



10 * O cam you here, young man, to fight ? 

Or came you here to flee ? 
Or cam you here to drink good wine, 
And be good company ? ' 

11 They filled a cup o good red wine. 

Drunk out between them twa : 
* For one dance wi your bonny bride, 
I shall gae hame my wa.' 

12 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the grass-green sleeve, 



He 's mounted her high behind himself, 
At her kin 's speired nae leave. 

13 Now '...... 

And swords flew in the skies, 
And droop and drowsie was the blood 
Ran our yon lilly braes. 

14 The blood ran our the lilly bank. 

And our the lilly brae, 
And sighing said the bonny bride, 
' A, wae 's me for foul play ! ' 

15 * My blessing on your heart, sweet thing, 

Wae to your wilfu will ! 
So many a gallant gentleman's blood 
This day as ye 've garred spill. 

16 * But a' you that is norland men, 

If you be norland born, 
Come never south to wed a bryde, 
For they '11 play you the scorn. 

17 * They will play you the scorn 

Upo your wedding-day, 
And gie you frogs instead o fish, 
And do you foul, foul play.' 



^■Vv 



" Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
No 30, Abbotsford. Sent Scott by William Laidlaw, in 
September, 1802 ; obtained by him from Jean Scott. 

1 There leeft a may, an a weel-far'd may, 
High, high up in yon glen ; O 

Her name was Katarine Janfarie, 
She was courtit by monie men. O 

2 Up then cam Lord Lauderdale, 
Up thrae the Lawland border, 

And he has come to court this may, 
A' mountit in gude order. 

3 He 's telld her father, he 's telld her mother, 
An a' the lave o her kin, 

An he has teUd the bonnie lass bersel, 
An has her favour win. 



4 Out then cam Lord Faughanwood, 

Out frae the English border. 
An for to court this well-far'd may, 
A' mountit in gude order. 

5 He telld her father, he telld her mother, 

An a' the rest o her kin. 
But he neer telld the bonnie lass hersell 
Till on her waddin-een. 

6 When they war a' at denner set, 

Drinkin the bluid-red wine, 
'T was up then cam Lord Lauderdale, 
The bridegroom sbud hae been. 

7 Up then spak Lord Faughanwood, 

An he spak very slee : 
' are ye come for sport ? ' he says, 
* Or are ye come for play ? 



2»1. KATHABLNB JAFFRAY 



221 



Or are ye come for a kiss o our bride, 
An the morn her waddin-day ? ' 

8 * I 'm no come for ought,' he says, 

' But for some sport or play ; 
An ae word o yer bonnie bride, 
Than I '11 horse an ride away.* 

9 She fiUd a cup o the gude red wine. 

She filld it to the ee : 

* Here 's a health to you, Lord Lauderdale, 

An a' your companie.' 

10 She filld a cup o the gude red wine. 

She filld it to the brim : 

* Here 's a health to you, Lord Lauderdale, 

My bridegroom should hae been.' 

11 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand, 
•y. And by the gars-green sleeve. 

An he has mountit her behind him, 
the bridegroom spierd nae leave. 

12 'It '[s] now take yer bride, Lord Faughan- 

wood, 
Now take her an ye may ; 
But if ye take yer bride again 
We will ca it foul play.' 



13 There war four a twenty bonnie boys, 

A' clad i the simple gray ; 
They said the wad take their bride again, 
By the Strang hand an the may. 

14 Some o them were fu willin men, 

But they war na willin a' ; 
Sae four an twentie ladies gay 
Bade them ride on their way. 

15 The bluid ran down by the Cadan bank, 

An in by the Cadan brae. 
An ther the gard the piper play 
It was a' for foul, foul play. 

16 A' ye lords in fair England 

That live by the English border, 
Gang never to Scotland to seek a wife, 
Or than ye '11 get the scorn. 

17 They '11 keep ye up i temper guid 

Untill yer wadin-day, 
They '11 thraw ye frogs instead o fish, 
An steal your bride away. 



" Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No. 
3, Abbotsford. Sent Scott September 11, 1802, by William 
Laidlaw ; received by him from Mr Bartram of Biggar. 

1 There lives a lass into yon bank, 

She lives hersell alone. 
Her name is Kathrine Jamphray, 
Well known by many a one. 

2 Than came the Laird of Lamington, 

It 's frae the West Countrie, 

And for to court this bonnie may, 

Her bridegroom hopes to be. 

3 He asked at her father, sae did he at her 

mother, 
And the chief of all her kin, 
But still he askd the lass hersell, 
Till he had her true love won. 



4 At length the Laird of Lachenwar( 

Came from the English border. 
And for to court this bonnie bride, 
Was mounted in good order. 

5 He asked at her father, sae did he at her 

mother. 
As I heard many say, 
But he never loot the lassie wit 
Till on her wedding-day. 

6 She sent a spy into the west 

Where Lamington might be. 
That an he wad come and meet wi her 
That she wad with him gae. 

7 They taen her on to Lachenware, 

As they have thought it meet ; 
They taen her on to Lachanware, 
The wedding to compleat 



222 



221. KATHARINE JAFFKAY 



8 When they came to Lachanware, 

And near-han by the town, 
There was a dinner-making, 
Wi great mirth and renown. 

9 Lamiugton has mounted twenty-four wiel-wight 

men, 
Well mounted in array. 
And he 's away to see his bonnie bride, 
Just on her wedding-day. 

10 When she came out into the green, 

Amang her company, 
Says, ' Lamington and Lachanware 
This day shall fight for me.' 

11 When he came to Lachanware, 

And lighted on the green, 
There was a cup of good red wine 

Was filled them between, 
And ay she drank to Lamington, 

Her former love who 'd been. 

12 It 's out and spake the bridegroom. 

And a angrie man was he : 
* It 's wha is this, my bonnie bride, 
That ye loe better than me ? 

13 * It 's came you here for sport, young man ? 

Or came you here for play ? 
Or came you for a sight of my bonnie bride. 
Upon her wedding-day ? ' 

14 * I came not here for sport,' he says, 

* Nor came I here for play ; 



But an I had ae word of your bride, 
I '11 horse and gae my way.' 

15 The first time that he calld on her, 

Her answer was him Nay ; 
But the next time that he calld on her, 
She was not slow to gae. 

16 He took her by the milk-white hand, 

And by the grass-green sleeve, 
He 's pulld her on behind him, 

At the bridegroom speard nae leave. 

17 The blood ran up the Caden bank, 

And down the Caden brae, 
And ay she bade the trumpet sound 
' It 's a' for foul, foul play.' 

18 ' I wonder o you English squires. 

That are in England born, 
That ye come to court our Scots lasses, 
For fear ye get the scorn. 

19 ' For fear you get the scorn,' she says, 

' Upon yowr wedding-day ; 
They '11 gee you frogs instead of fish. 
And take your bride away.' 

20 Fair fa the lads of Lamington, 

Has taen their bride away ! 
They '11 set them up in temper wood 
And scorn you all day. 



V^ 



E 



Skene MS., p. 81 ; taken down in the north of Scotland, 
1802-3. 

1 Bonny Cathrin Jaffray, 

That proper maid sae fare, 

She has loved young Lochinvar, 

She made him no compare. 

2 He courted her the live-long winter-night, 

Sae has he the simmer's day ; 
He has courted her sae long 
Till he sta her heart away. 



3 But the lusty laird of Lamendall 
Came frae the South Country, 
An for to gain this lady's love 
In entreid he. 



He has gained her friends' consent, 
An sett the wedding-day. 

6 The wedding-day it being set. 
An a' man to it ... , 
She sent for her first fair love. 
The wedding to come to. 



231. KATHABINE JAFFRAY 



223 



6 His father an his mother came, 

They came a', but he came no ; 
It was a foul play. 

7 Lochinvar, as his comrads 

Sat drinkine at the wine, 
[* Fie] on you,' said his comrads, 
* Tak yer bride for shame. 

8 * Had she been mine, as she was yours, 

An done as she has done to you, 
I wad tak her on her bridal-day, 
Fra a' her companie. 

9 * Fra a' her companie, 

Without any other stay ; 
I wad gie them frogs insted o fish, 
An tak their bride away.' 

10 He gat fifty young men, 

They were gallant and gay, 
An fifty maidens, 

An left them on a lay. 

11 Whan he cam in by Callien bank. 

An in by Callien brae, 
He left his company 
Dancing on a lay. 

12 He cam to the bridal-house, 

An in entred he ; 



13 ' There was a young man in this place 
Loved well a comly may, 



But the day she gaes an ither man's bride, 
An played him foul play. 

14 ' Had it been me as it was him. 

An don as she has don him tee, 
I wad ha geen them frogs instead o fish, 
An taen their bride away.' 

15 The English spiered gin he wad fight ; 

It spak well in his mind ; 



16 * It was no for fightin I cam here, 

But to bear good fellowship ; 
Gae me a glass wi your bridegroom, 
An so I go my way.' 

17 The glass was filled o guid red wine, 

. . . between them twa : 
* Man, man I see yer bride, 
An so I gae my waa.' 

18 He was on guid horseback. 

An whipt the bride him wi ; 
She grat an wrang her hands, 
An said, ' It is foul play. 



19 



* An this I dare well say, 
For this day I gaed anither man's bride, 
An it 's been foul play.' 

20 But now sh 's Lochinvar's wife, 

He gaed them frogs instead o fish. 
An tain their bride away. 



P 



Einloch MSS, V, 315, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton. 

1 Bonny Catherine Janferry, 

The dainty dame so fair, 
She 's faun in love wi young Lochinvar, 
And she loved him without compare. 

2 She loved him well, and wondrous well 

To change her mind away ; 



But the day she goes another man's bride. 
And plays him foul play. 

3 Home came the Laird o Lauderdale, 

A' from the South Countree, 

And a' to court this weel-fart may. 

And I wat good tent took he. 

4 Gold nor gear he did no spare. 

She was so fair a may, 
And he agreed wi her friends all, 
And set the wedding-day. 



224 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



6 She sent for her first true-love, 
Her wedding to come tee ; 
His father and his mother both, 
They were to come him wi. 

6 His father and his mother both. 

They were to come him wi ; 
And they came both, and he came no, 
And this was foul play. 

7 He 's sent a quiet messenger 

Now out thro a' the land, 
To warn a hundred gentlemen, 
gallant and good renown. 

8 gallant and good renown. 

And all o good aray. 
And now he 's made his trumpet soun 
A voss o foul play. 

9 As they came up by Caley buss, 

And in by Caley brae, 
* Stay still, stay still, my merry young men, 
Stay still, if that you may. 

10 * Stay still, stay still, my merry young men. 

Stay still, if that you may ; 
I '11 go to the bridal-house. 
And see what they will say.* 

11 When he gabd to the bridal-house. 

And lighted and gaed in, 
There were four and twenty English lords, 
gallant and good renown. 

12 gallant and good renown, 

And all o good aray. 
But aye he garred his trumpets soun 
A voss o foul play. 

13 When he was at the table set, 

Amang these gentlemen, 
He begoud to vent some words 
They couldna understan. 

14 The English lords, they waxed wroth 

What could be in his mind ; 
They stert to foot, on horseback lap, 

* Come fecht ! what 's i your mind ? * 

16 ' I came na here to feght,' he said, 

* But for good sport and play ; 



And one glass wi yer bonny bridegroom. 
And I '11 go boun away.' 

16 The glass was filled o good reed wine. 

And drunken atween the twa ; 
*And one glass wi your bonny bride. 
And I 'se go boun away.' 

17 Her maiden she stood forbye. 

And quickly she said, ' Nay 
I winna gee a word o her 
To none nor yet to thee.' 

18 * Oh, one word o yer bonny bride ! 

Will ye refuse me one ? 
Before her wedding-day was set, 
I would hae gotten ten. 

19 * Take here my promise, maiden, 
My promise and my hand. 
Out oer her father's gates this day 
Wi me she shanna gang.' 

20 He 's bent him oer his saddle-bow, 

To kiss her ere he gaed, 
And he fastened his hand in her gown-breast. 
And tust her him behind. 

21 He pat the spurs into his horse 

And fast rade out at the gate ; 
Ye wouldna hae seen his yellow locks 
For the dust o his horse feet. 

22 Fast has he ridden the wan water. 

And merrily taen the know, 
And then the battle it began ; 
I 'me sure it was na mow. 

23 Bridles brack, and weight horse lap, 

And blades flain in the skies, 
And wan and drousie was the blood 
Gaed lapperin down the lays. 

24 Now all ye English lords. 

In England where ye 'r borne, 
Come never to Scotland to woo a bride, 
For they 'le gie you the scorn. 

25 For they 'le gie you the scorn, 
The scorn, if that they may ; 
They '11 gie you irogs instead of fish, 
And steal your bride away. 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



225 



G 



Maidment's North Countrie Garland, p. 34. 

1 O BONNY Catharine Jaffery, 

That dainty maid so fair, 
Once lovd the laird of Lochinvar, 
Without any compare. 

2 Long time she lood him very well, 

But they changed her mind away, 
And now she goes another's bride, 
And plays him foul play. 

3 The bonny laird of Lauderdale 

Came from the South Countrie, 
And he has wooed the pretty maid, 
Thro presents entered he. 

4 For tocher-gear he did not stand. 

She was a dainty may ; 
He 'greed him with her friends all, 
And set the wedding-day. 

6 When Lochinvar got word of this, 
He knew not what to do. 
For losing of a lady fair 
That he did love so true. 

6 * But if I were young Lochinvar, 

I woud not care a fly 
To take her on her wedding-day 
From all her company. 

7 * Get ye a quiet messenger, 

Send him thro all your land 
For a hundred and fifty brave young lads. 
To be at your command. 

8 ' To be aU at your command, 

And your bidding to obey, 
Yet stiU cause you the trumpet sound 
The voice of foul play.' 

9 He got a quiet messenger 

To send thro all his land. 
And full three hundred pretty lada 
Were all at his command. 

10 Were all at his command, 
And his bidding did obey. 
Yet still he made the trumpet sound 
The voice of foul play. 
VOL. IV, 29 



11 Then he went to the bridal-house. 

Among the nobles a', 
And when he stepped upon the floor 
He gave a loud huzza. 

12 ' Huzza ! huzza ! you English men, 

Or borderers who were born, 
Neer come to Scotland for a maid, 
Or else they will you scorn. 

13 ' She '11 bring you on with tempting words. 

Aye till the wedding-day. 
Syne give you frogs instead of fish. 
And play you foul play.' 

14 The gentlemen all wondered 

What could be in his mind. 
And asked if he 'd a mind to fight ; 
Why spoke he so unkind ? 

15 Did he e'er see such pretty men 

As were there in array ? 

* O yes,' said he, ' a Fairy Court \y 

Were leaping on the hay. 

16 ' As I came in by Hyland banks, 

And in by Hyland braes. 
There did I see a Fairy Court, 
All leaping on the leas. 

17 * I came not here to fight,' he said, 

' But for good fellowship gay ; 
I want to drink with your bridegroom. 
And then I '11 boun my way.' 

18 The glass was filled with good red wine, 

And drunk between them twae : 

* Give me one shake of your bonny bride's hand, 

And then I '11 boun my way.' 

19 He 's taen her by the milk-white hands, 

And by the grass-green sleeve, 

Pulld her on horseback him behind. 

At her friends askd nae leave. 

20 Syne rode the water with great speed, 

And merrily the knows ; 
There fifty from the bridal came — 
Indeed it was nae mows — 

21 Thinking to take the bride again. 

Thro strength if that they may ; 
But still he gart the trumpet sound 
The voice of foul play. 



226 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



22 There were four and twenty ladies fair 

All walking on the lea ; 
He gave to them the bonny bride, 
And bade them boun their way. 

23 They splintered the spears in pieces now, 

And the blades flew in the sky, 



But the bonny laird of Lochinvar 
Has gained the victory. 

24 Many a wife- and widow's son 
Lay gasping on the ground, 
But the bonny laird of Lochinvar 
He has the victory won. 



H 

Kinloch MSS, V, 313. 

1 There was a lady fair, fair, 

Lived low down in yon glen, O 
And she 's been courted far an near 
By several gentlemen. O 

2 At length the laird of Lammington 

Came frae the West Country, 
All to court that pretty girl. 
And her bridegroom for to be. 

3 He told her father, so did he her mother, 

And all the rest of her kin, 
And he has told the lass hersel, 
And her kind favour has won. 

4 At length the laird of Laughenwaur 

Came frae the English border. 
And all to court that pretty girl, 
WeU mounted in good order. 

5 He told her father, so did he her mother, 

As I heard people say. 
But he ner told the lass hersel, 
Till on her wedding-day. 

6 But when the wedding-day was fixed. 

And married for to be. 
Then Lamington came to the town. 
The bridegroom for to see. 

7 * O are ye come for sport, sir ? ' he said, 

* Or are ye come for play ? 



Or are ye for a sight o my bonny bride, 
Upon her wedding-day ? ' 

8 ' A 'm neither come for sport, sir,' he said, 

* Nor am I come for play, 
But if I had one word o the bride 
I 'd mount and go away.' 

9 There was a cup of the good red wine 

Was filled out them between, 
And aye she drank to Lammington, 
Who her true-love had been. 



10 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand. 

And by the grass-green sleeve ; 
He 's mounted her behind him then. 
At the bridegroom speered no leave. 

11 The blood ran down by Cowden banks. 

And down by Cowden brae, 
And aye they gaured the piper play 
' It was a foul, foul play.' 

12 Ye gentlemen of Lochenwaur, 

That 's laigh in England born, 
Come ner to Scotland to court a wife, 
Or be sure ye '1 get the scorn. 

13 The '11 keep ye up, and tamper ye at. 

Until yer wedding-day, 
And they '1 gie ye frogs instead o fish, 
And they 'U play ye a foul play. 



^ 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



227 



Motherwell's MS., p. 327, "from the recitation of Robert 
Sim, weaver, in Paisley, 16 July, 1825. It was a song of 
his father's, a great reciter of heroick ballads." 

1 In Bordershellin there did dwell 

A comely, handsome may, 

And Lochinvar he courted her, 

And stole her heart away. 

2 She loved him but owre weel, 

And his love drew away ; 

Another man then courted her. 

And set the wedding-day, 

3 They set the wedding-day so plain, 

As plain as it might be ; 
She sent a letter to her former love. 
The wedding to come see. 

4 When Lochinvar the letter read, 

He sent owre a' his land 
For four and twenty beltit knichts, 
To come at his command. 

5 They all came to his hand, I say. 

Upon that wedding-day ; 
He set them upon milk-white steeds. 
And put them in array. 

6 He set them in array, I say. 

Most pleasant to be seen. 
And he 's awa to the wedding-house, 
A single man his lane. 

7 And when he was to the wedding-house come. 

They were all sitten down ; 
Baith gentlemen and knichts was there, 
And lords of high renown. 

8 They saluted him, baith auld and young, 

Speired how he had spent the day, 
And what young Lankashires was yon 
They saw all in array. 



9 But he answerd them richt scornfuUie, 
Upon their wedding-day ; 
He says. It 's been some Fairy Court 
Ye 've seen all in array. 

10 Then rose up the young bridegroom. 

And an angry man was he : 

* Lo, art thou come to fight, young man ? 

Indeed I '11 fight wi thee.' 

11 ' O I am not. come to fight,' he sayd, 

' But good fellowship to hae, 
And for to drink the wine sae red. 
And then I '11 go away.' 

12 Then they fiUd him up a brimming glass. 

And drank it between them twa : 

* Now one word of your bonnie bride. 

And then I '11 go my wa.' 

13 But some were friends, and some were faes, 

Yet nane o them was free 
To let the bride on her wedding-day 
Gang out o their companie. 

14 But he took her by the milk-white hand. 

And by the grass-green sleeve, 
And set her on a milk-white steed, 
And at nane o them speerd he leave. 

15 Then the blood ran down the Caylin bank, 

And owre the Caylin brae ; 
The auld folks knew something o the sport. 
Which gart them cry, Foul play ! 

16 Ye lusty lads of Limberdale, 

Tho ye be English born, 
Come nae mair to Scotland to court a maid, 
For fear ye get the scorn. 

17 For fear that ye do get the scorn 

Upon your wedding-day ; 
Least ye catch frogs instead of fish, 
And then ye '11 ca 't foul play. 



228 



221. KATHARINE JAFFBAY 



Motherwell's MS., p. 75, from the recitation of Mrs 
Thomson, an old woman of Kilbarchan. 

1 There was a lass, as I heard say, 

Lived low down in a glen ; 
Her name was Catharine Johnson, 
Weel known to many men. 

2 Doun cam the laird o Lamingtoun, 

Doun frae the South Countrie, 
And he is for this bonnie lass, 
Her bridegroom for to be. 

3 He 's askd her father and mother, 

The chief of a' her kin, 
And then he askd the bonnie lass. 
And did her favour win. 

4 Doun cam an English gentleman, 

Doun frae the Enghsh border ; 
He is for this bonnie lass. 
To keep his house in order. 

6 He askd her father and mother. 
As I do hear them say, 
But he never askd the lass hersell, 
Till on her wedding-day. 

6 But she has wrote a lang letter. 

And sealed it wi her hand, 
And sent it to Lord Lamington, 
To let him understand. 

7 The first line o the letter he read, 

He was baith glad and fain ; 

But or he read the letter owre 

He was baith pale and wan. 

8 Then he has sent a messenger, 

And out through all his land. 
And four-and-twenty armed men 
Was all at his command. 

9 But he has left his merry men. 

Left them on the lea ; 
And he 's awa to the wedding-house. 
To see what he could see. 

10 But when he came to the wedding-house. 
As I do understand, 
There were four-and-twenty belted knights 
Sat at a table round. 



11 They rose all for to honour him. 

For he was of high renown ; 
They rose all for to welcome him. 
And bade him to sit doun. 

12 O meikle was the good red wine 

Li silver cups did flow. 
But aye she drank to Lamingtoun, 
For with him would she go. 

13 O meikle was the good red wine 

In silver cups gaed round ; 
At length they began to whisper words. 
None could them understand. 

14 * O came ye here for sport, young man ? 

Or cam ye here for play ? 

Or cam ye for our bonnie bride. 

On this her wedding-day ? ' 

15 ' I came not here for sport,' he said, 

' Neither did I for play ; 
But for one word o your bonnie bride 
I '11 mount and ride away.' 

16 They set her maids behind her. 

To hear what they would say. 
But the first question he askd at her 

Was always [answered] nay ; 
The next question he askd at her 

Was, ' Mount and come away.' 

17 It 's up the Couden bank, 

And doun the Couden brae ; 
And aye she made the trumpet sound, 
* It 's a weel won play.' 

18 O meikle was the blood was shed 

Upon the Couden brae ; 
And aye she made the trumpet sound, 
' It 's a' fair play.' 

19 Come, all ye English gentlemen, 

That is of England born. 

Come nae doun to Scotland, 

For fear ye get the scorn. 

20 They 'U feed ye up wi flattering words, 

And that 's foul play ; 
And they 'U dress ye frogs instead o fish. 
Just on your wedding-day. 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



229 



Bncban's Gleanings of Scotch, English and Irish Scarce 
Old Ballads, 1825, pp. 74, 193; "taken down from oral 
tradition." 

1 There lives a lass in yonder dale, 

In yon bonny borrows-town, 

Her name it is Catherine Jeffrey, 

She is loved by mony a ane. 

2 Lord Lochinvar has courted her 

These twelve months and a day ; 
With flattering words and fair speeches 
He has stown her heart away. 

3 There came a knight from south seairbank, 

From north England I mean, 

He alighted at her father's yetts, 

His stile is Lord Lymington. 

4 He has courted her father and moth 

Her kinsfolk ane and aye, 
But he never told the lady hersell 
Till he set the wedding-day. 

6 ' Prepare, prepare, my daughter dear, 
Prepare, to you I say ; 
For the night it is good Wednesday night, 
And the morn is your wedding-day.' 

6 * O tell to me, father,' she said, 

' O tell me who it is wi ; 
For I '11 never wed a man on earth 
TiU I know what he be.' 

7 * He 's come a knight from the south sea-bank, 

From north England I mean, 

For when he lighted at my yetts, 

His stile is Lord Lymington.' 

8 * O where will I get a bonny boy 

Will win baith meet and fee. 
And will run on to Lochinvar 
And come again to me ? * 

9 ' here am I, a bonny boy 

That will win baith hose and sheen, 
And will run on to Lochinvar, 
And come right seen again.' 

10 * Where ye find the brigs broken. 
Bend your bow and swim ; 
There ye find the grass growing. 



uentt your dow ana sw 
Where ye find the grass grc 
Slack your bow and run. 



11 ' When ye come on to Lochinvar, 

Byde not to chap nor ca. 
But set your bent bow to your breast 
And lightly loup the wa. 

12 * Bid him mind the words he last spake, 

When we sendered on the lee ; 
Bid him saddle and ride full fast. 
If he be set for me.' 

13 Where he found the brigs broken, 

He bent his bow and swam ; 
Where he found the grass growing, 
He slackt his bow and ran. 

14 When he came on to Lochinvar, 

He did not chap nor ca ; 
He set his bent bow till his breast 
And lightly leapt the wa. 

15 ' What news ? what news, my bonny boy ? 

What news have ye to me ? ' 
* Bad news, bad news, my lord,' he said, 
' Your lady awa wiU be. 

16 * You 'r bidden mind the words ye last spake, 

When we sendered on the lee ; 
You 'r bidden saddle and ride full fast, 
Gin ye set for her be.' 

17 When he came to her father's yetts. 

There he alighted down ; 
The cups of gold of good red wine 
Were going roun and roim. 

18 ' Now came ye here for sport ? ' they said, 

' Or came ye here for play ? 
Or for a sight of our bonny bride, 
And then to boun your way ? ' 

19 * I came not here for sport,' he says, 

' Nor came I here for play, 
But if I had a sight of your bonny bride 
Then I will boun my way.' 

20 When Lymington he called on her, 

She would not come at a'. 
But Lochinvar he called on her. 
And she was not sweer to draw. 

21 He has taen her by the milk-white hand, 

And by her silken sleeve. 
He has mounted her high him behind. 
He spiered nae mair their leave. 



230 



221. KATHARINE JAFFRAY 



22 And aye she scoffed and scorned them, 

And aye she rode away, 
And aye she gart the trumpet sound 

The voice of foul play, 
To take the hride frae her "bridegfroom 

Upon her wedding-day. 

23 As they came in by Foudlin dyke, 

And in by Foudlin stane, 
There were mony gallant Englishmen 
Lay gasping on the green. 



24 Now a' you that are English lords, ^ 

And are in England born, 
Come never here to court your brides. 
For fear ye get the scorn. 

25 For aye they '11 scoff and scorn you, 

And aye they '11 ride away ; 
They '11 gie you frogs instead of fish. 
And call it foul play. 



Macmath MS., p. 72, communicated January 13, 1883, by 
Dr Robert Trotter, as remembered from the recitation of his 
father, Dr Robert Trotter, of Dairy, Kirkcudbrightshire. 

1 They asked him and speirgd him, 
And unto him did say, 



* O saw ye ocht o an armed band, 

As ye cam on your way ? ' 

2 He jested them and jeered them, 
And thus to them did say, 

* O I saw nocht but a fairy troop. 

As I rode on my way.' 



v^ 



A. a. The second copy has some different spellings^ 

and drops the second the in 11*. 3, 6 are 5, 
3 in both. Sense requires the change : cf. 
also F 5, H 5, 1 4. 
b. 1*. to many. 3 = the MS. 3. 4*. AU 
mounted. 

B. The first copy is written in long lines (two to 

a stanza) ; neither is divided into stanzas. 
There are differences of spelling. 3*, 5', 
fere seems to he meant for fair : cf C 5'. 
4*. At her, both: cf. B 7, G 4, H 8. 5". 
Both copies have doom. 5^, 15*. First, 
behold, garned, in my copy, probably by 
error. Second, beheld, gard. 

The second copy has these variations. 2*. got 
the. 3*, 5*. fere wanting. 15*. thing 
wanting. 16*. that are. 

The first edition of the ballad in Scott's Min- 
strelsy is made up as follows (it being re- 
membered that the editor did not profess or 
practice a servile fidelity in the treatment 
of his materials) : B 1-6 ; B 10, A 7 ; A 8, 
B 11; A 9; B 12; B 13 [but mostly 
Scotfs) ; A 11, B 14 ; B 15 ; B 16 ; A 13. 

12 of these 15 stanzas are repeated in the 
later edition ; the new stanzas in that copy 



are 1-5, 14-16, 20. These are substan- 
tially C 1-5, 12-14, 16. 

Scmie variations will be noticed under 0. 
O, the tag to the second and fourth lines, is 
not written in 2, 4, 16^ 17*. 

1^ into written over up. 

2*. Weel in the margin against A'. 

3^. rest struck out before lave. 

4*. Up struck out before Out. Faughan Wood, 
here and 7* ; in 12*, Faughan Wood. 

7*. Up the then. 

9*. gude struck out before red, and red written 
over. 

15*. Originally down by ; down struck out. 

1Si\ Originally in by ; in struck out. These 
last two changes, and others, seem, to be edi- 
torial. 

1-5, 12-14, 16, with variations, are 1-5, 
14-16, 20 of the later edition of the ballad 
in Scotfs Minstrelsy. Slight alterations, 
such as Scott was accustomed to make, do 
not require notice. 

Scott, 3*'*. He told na in the Minstrelsy: 
alm^ost certainly an arbitrary change, and 
not a good one, since it makes the hairdship 
to Lauderdale the less. 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



231 



E. 



4^. Lochinvar {also in 14^) for Lord Faughan- 
wood ; introduced from D. 

IS*^. clad in the Johnstone grey : for which no 
authority is known. 

16^. Leader lads for ladies gay: probably a P. 
conjectural emendation. 

20*. For fear of sic disorder : presumably 
a change for rhyme, disorder suggested H. 
by2\ 
9*. 24. 12*. It 's is of later insertion, perhaps I. 
editorial. 

14*, I came not here : obscured in the process 
of binding. 

20. This must be a mixture of two stanzas. J. 
The third line has no sense, and is not 
much improved by reading temper good, as 
in C 17*. K. 

Written mostly in long lines, without separa- 
tion of stanzas, sometimes without a proper 
separation of verses. The division here 
mnde is partly conjectural. 

2\ She courted him. 

3*. entreid or entried : indistinct. 

6, 7*''. His father an his mother came they 

came a L. 

but he came no 
It was a foul play Lochinvar 
As his comrades sat drinkine at the 
wine 



7*. . . . on. IS''. Lodged /or Loved. 

16'. Gae man glass me your. 

17^'*. between them tva man 

Man I see, etc. 
23*. We have had a similar verse in the north- 
Scottish version of^ Hugh Spencer,' No 158, 
C 11 : bridles brak and great horse lap. 
11*. It was awful foul foul play. Awful was 
probably a misunderstanding of a foul. 

8^ Lank-a-Shires. 14*. He is written over 
And. 

15*. bank, the original reading, is changed to 
heuch. 
12*. Oh. 15*. go is written over ride. 

Motherwell made two slight changes in his 
printed copy. 

1*. my mony. 2*. Loch-in-var ; and always. 

3*. South sea bank. 7*. the South sea bank. 

10*. For for Where: probably a misprint, 
perhaps a preservation of the northern f 
for wh. 

13^ the brigs broken, wrongly repeated. 

16^. When we, preserved from 12\ 

23'. Englishman. 

The story of the ballad was that Lochinvar 
went to Netherby with a band of men dressed 
in green, whom he concealed near the tower, 
and with whose assistance he forcibly ab- 
ducted the young lady." 



222 

BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



^ Ij^A-hn/^i 



A. 'Bonny Baby Livingston.' a. Jamieson-Brown C. Motherwell's MS., p. 375; 'Barbara Livingston,' 
MS. b. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 135. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 304. 



B. < Barbara Livingston,' Buchan's MSS, I, 77. 



D. * Annie Livingston,' Campbell MSS, U, 254. 

E. *Baby Livingstone,' Kinloch MSS, V, 355. 



Mrs Brown was not satisfied with A b, 
which Jamieson had taken down from her 
mouth, and after a short time she sent him 
A a. The verbal differences are considerable. 
We need not suppose that Mrs Brown had 
heard two "sets" or "ways," of which she 



blended the readings; the fact seems to be 
that, at the time when she recited to Jamie- 
son, she was not in good condition to remem- 
ber accurately. 

A a. Glenlion carries off Barbara Living- 
ston from Dundee and takes her to the High- 



232 



233. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



lands. She is in a stupor of grief. Glenlion 
folds her in his arms, and says that he would 
give all his flocks and herds for a kind look. 
She tells him that he shall never get look or 
smile unless he takes her back to Dundee ; 
and he her that she shall never see Dundee 
till he has married her. His brother John 
tries to dissuade him ; he himself would scorn 
a hand without a heart; but Glenlion has 
long loved her, and is resolved to keep her, 
nevertheless. Glenlion's three sisters receive 
Baby kindly, and the youngest begs her to 
disclose the cause of her grief. Baby tells the 
sympathetic Jean that she has been stolen 
from her friends and from her lover, and ob- 
tains not only the means of writing a letter 
to Johny Hay, the lover, but a swift-footed 
boy to carry it to Dundee. Johny Hay, 
with a band of armed men, makes all speed to 
Glenlion's castle. He calls to Baby to jump, 
and he will catch her ; she, more prudently, 
slips down on her sheets ; her lover takes her 
on his horse and rides away. Glenlion hears 
the ring of a bridle and thinks it is the priest 
come to marry him. His brother corrects 
the mistake ; there are armed men at the cas- 
tle-gate, and it turns out that there are enough 
of them to deter Glenlion's Highlanders from 
an attack. So Johny Hay conveys Baby 
Livingstone safely back to Dundee. 

The other versions give the story a tragical 
catastrophe. In B, Barbara is forced into 
Glenlion's bed. Afterwards she exclaims 
that if she had paper and pen she would write 
to her lover in Dundee. No difficulty seems to 
be made ; she writes her letter, and sends it 
by the ever-ready boy. Geordie, lying in a 
window, sees the boy, asks for news, and is 
told that his love is stolen by Glenlion. He 
orders his horse, in fact three horses, and also 

* At the end of the account of the parish of Livingstone, 
in The Statistical Account of Scotland, XX, 17, 1798, there 
is this paragraph : " It may also be expected that something 
should be said of the Bonny Lass of Livingstone, so famed 
in song ; but although this ballad and the air to which it is 
sung seem to have as little claim to antiquity as they have 
to merit, yet we cannot give any satisfactory information 
upon the subject. All we can say is, that we have heard 
that she kept a public house at a place called the High 
House of Livingstone, about a mile west of the church ; that 
she was esteemed handsome, and knew how. to turn her 
charms to the best account." Dr Robertson, at the place 
above cited, treats this passage as pertaining to the ballad 



a mourning hat and cloak; but though he 
tires out all three horses, his love is dead be- 
fore he reaches Glenlion. This copy is pieced 
out with all sorts of commonplaces from other 
ballads : see 9 (which is nonsense), 10, 13, 14, 
19, 21, 23, 25, 27, 29, 30. 

C is a briefer, that is, an unfarced, form of 
B. Glenlion is corrupted to Linlyon. 

D has its commonplaces again. For Bar- 
bara we have Annie, and Glendinning for 
Glenlion, and a brother Jemmy instead of a 
lover. In B the ravisher is Lochell. 

Dr Joseph Robertson in his Adversaria, 
MS., p. 87, gives these two lines of ' Baby 
Livingston : ' 

O bony Baby Livingston 
Was play in at the ba."* 

The kidnapping of women for a compulsory 
marriage was a practice which prevailed for 
hundreds of years, and down to a late date, 
and, of course, not only in Great Britain. 
The unprotected female, especially if she had 
any property, must have been in a state of 
miserable insecurity, and even a convent was 
far from furnishing her an asylum. See for 
England, in the first half of the fifteenth cen- 
tury, Beamont's Annals of the Lords of War- 
rington, pp. 256-61 and 265 f. ; for Scotland, 
in the same century and the two following, 
Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 99 ff., R. Cham- 
bers's Domestic Annals of Scotland, 1858, I, 
223-5, 415 f. ; for Ireland, Froude, The Eng- 
lish in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century, 
1872, I, 417 ff. Other Scottish ballads cele- 
brating similar abductions are 'Eppie Mor- 
rie,' ' The Lady of Arngosk,' and ' Rob Roy,' 
which immediately follow, f 

A b is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske 
og skotske Folkeviser, p. 126, No 18. 

before us. But the reference is certainly to a song known 
as the " Lass o Livingston," beginning, ' The bonie lass o 
Liviston ; ' concerning which see Cromek's Keliques of Rob- 
ert Burns, p. 204 of the edition of 1817, and Johnson's Mu- 
seum, IV, 18, 1853. 

t I will add one more com to a heap. " Mrs Wharton, 
who was lately stole, is returned home to her friends, hav- 
ing been married against her consent to Captain Campbell " 
(November, 1690). Luttrell's Relation, II, 130. There is 
partial comfort, but somewhat cold, in the fact that the rav- 
isher was in many cases ultimately unsuccessful in his ob- 
ject, as he is in all the ballads here given. 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



233 



a. Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. xii, sent by Mrs 
Brown to Jamieson, in a letter dated September 15, 1800. 
b. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 135, as taken from Mrs 
Brown's recitation a short time before a was written down. 

1 BONNY Baby Livingston 

Went forth to view the hay, 
And by it came him Glenlion, 
Sta bonny Baby away. 

2 first he 's taen her silken coat, 

And neest her satten gown, 
Syne rowd her in a tartan plaid, 
And hapd her round and rown. 

S He has set her upon his steed 
And roundly rode away. 
And neer loot her look back again 
The live-long summer's day. 

4 He 's carried her oer hills and muirs 

Till they came to a Highland glen, 
And there he 's met his brother John, 
With twenty armed men. 

5 O there were cows, and there were ewes, 

And lasses milking there. 
But Baby neer anse lookd about. 
Her heart was filld wi care. 

6 Glenlion took her in his arms. 

And kissd her, cheek and chin ; 
Says, I 'd gie a' these cows and ewes 
But ae kind look to win. 

7 ' O ae kind look ye neer shall get. 

Nor win a smile frae me, 
Unless to me you '11 favour shew. 
And take me to Dundee.' 

8 ' Dundee, Baby ? Dundee, Baby ? 

Dundee you neer shall see 
Till I 've carried you to Glenlion 
And have my bride made thee. 

9 ' We '11 stay a while at Auchingour, 

And get sweet milk and cheese. 
And syne we '11 gang to Glenlion, 
And there live at our ease.' 

10 ' I winna stay at Auchingour, 

Nor eat sweet milk and cheese, 

VOL. TV. 30 



Nor go with thee to Glenlion, 
For there I '11 neer find ease.' 

11 Than out it spake his brother John, 

' O were I in your place, 
I 'd take that lady hame again, 
For a' her bonny face. 

12 ' Commend me to the lass that 's kind, 

Tho na so gently born ; 
And, gin her heart I coudna gain, 
To take her hand I 'd scorn.' 



13 ' O had your tongue now, John,' he 

* You wis na what you say ; 
For I 've lood that bonny face 
This twelve month and a day. 

14 * And tho I 've lood her lang and sair 

A smile I neer coud win ; 
Yet what I 've got anse in my power 
To keep I think nae sin.' 

15 When they came to Glenlion castle. 

They lighted at the yate, 
And out it came his sisters three, 
Wha did them kindly greet. 

16 O they 've taen Baby by the hands 

And led her oer the green. 
And ilka lady spake a word. 
But bonny Baby spake nane. 

17 Then out it spake her bonny Jean, 

The youngest o the three, 

' lady, dinna look sae sad, 

But tell your grief to me.' 



18 * O wherefore should I tell my grief. 

Since lax I canna find ? 
I 'm stown frae a' my kin and friends, 
And my love I left behind. 

19 ' But had I paper, pen, and ink. 

Before that it were day, 

I yet might get a letter sent 

In time to Johny Hay.' 

20 O she 's got paper, pen, and ink, 

And candle that she might see, 
And she has written a broad letter 
To Johny at Dundee. 



234 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



21 And she has gotten a honny boy, 

That was baith swift and Strang, 
Wi philabeg and bonnet blue. 
Her errand for to gang. 

22 ' boy, gin ye 'd my blessing win 

And help me in my need. 
Run wi this letter to my love. 
And bid him come wi speed. 

23 ' And here 's a chain of good red gowd. 

And gowdn guineas three. 
And when you 've well your errand done, 
You '11 get them for your fee.' 

24 The boy he ran oer hill and dale, 

Fast as a bird coud flee. 
And eer the sun was twa hours height 
The boy was at Dundee. 

26 And when he came to Johny's door 
He knocked loud and sair ; 
Then Johny to the window came, 
And loudly cry'd, ' Wha 's there ? * 

26 ' O here 's a letter I have brought, 

"Which ye maun quickly read. 
And, gin ye woud your lady save, 
Gang back wi me wi speed.' 

27 O when he had the letter read. 

An angry man was he ; 
He says, Glenlion, thou shalt rue 
This deed of villany I 

28 ' O saddle to me the black, the black, 

O saddle to me the brown, 
O saddle to me the swiftest steed 
That eer rade frae the town. 

29 ' And arm ye well, my merry men a', 

And follow me to the glen. 
For I vow I '11 neither eat nor sleep 
Till I get my love again.' 

30 He 's mounted on a milk-white steed, 

The boy upon a gray, 
And they got to Glenlion's castle 
About the close of day. 

31 As Baby at her window stood, 

The west wind saft did bla ; 



She heard her Johny's well-kent voice 
Beneath the castle wa. 

32 * O Baby, haste, the window jump ! 

I '11 kep you in my arm ; 
My merry men a' are at the yate. 
To rescue you frae harm.' 

33 She to the window fixt her sheets 

And slipped safely down. 
And Johny catchd her in his arms, 
Neer loot her touch the ground. 

34 When mounted on her Johny's horse, 

Fou blithely did she say, 
* Glenlion, you hae lost your bride ! 
She 's a£E wi Johny Hay.' 

35 Glenlion and his brother John 

Were birling in the ha, 
When they heard Johny's bridle ring. 
As first he rade awa. 

36 * Rise, Jock, gang out and meet the priest, 

I hear his bridle ring ; 
My Baby now shall be my wife 
Before the laverocks sing.' 

37 ' O brother, this is not the priest ; 

I fear he '11 come oer late ; 
For armed men with shining brands 
Stand at the castle-yate.' 

38 ' Haste Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh ! 

Haste, take your sword and spier ! 
We '11 gar these traytors rue the hour 
That eer they ventured here.' 

39 The Highland men drew their claymores, 

And gae a warlike shout. 
But Johny's merry men kept the yate, 
Nae ane durst venture out. 

40 The lovers rade the live-lang night, 

And safe gat on their way, 
And bonny Baby Livingston 
Has gotten Johny Hay. 

41 ' Awa, Glenlion ! f y for shame ! 

Gae hide ye in some den ! 
You 've lettn your bride be stown frae you, 
For a' your armed men.' 



232. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



235 



B 



Buchan's MSS, I, 77. 

1 BoNNT Barbara Livingston 

Went out to take the air, 
When came the laird o Glenlyon 
And staw the maiden fair. 

2 He staw her in her cloak, her cloak, 

He staw her in her gown ; 

Before he let her look again, 

Was mony mile frae town. 

3 So they rade over hills and dales. 

Through m[o]ny a wilsome way. 
Till they came to the head o yon hill. 
And showed her ewes and kye. 

4 * O will ye stay with me, Barbara, 

And get good curds and whey ? 
Or will ye go to Glenlyon, 
And be a lady gay ? ' 

5 ' The Highlands is nae for me, kind sir, 

The Highlands is nae for me. 

But, gin ye woud my favour win, 

Have me to bonny Dundee.' 

6 'Dundee, Barbara? Dundee, Barbara? 

That town ye 'se never see ; 
I '11 hae you to a finer place 
Than eer was in Dundee.' 

7 But when she came to Glenlyon, 

And lighted on the green. 
Every lady spake Earse to her. 
But Barbara could speak nane. 

8 When they were all at dinner set, 

And placed the table round, 
Every one took some of it. 
But Barbara took nane. 

9 She put it to her cheek, her cheek, 

She put it to her chin. 

And put it to her rosey lips, 

But neer a bit gaed in. 

10 When day was gone, and night was come. 
And a' man bound for bed, 
Glenlyon and that fair lady 
To one chamber were laid. 



11 * O strip, O strip, my love,' he said, 

' O strip and lay you down ; ' 
* How can I strip ? How can I strip, 
To bed wi an unco man ? ' 

12 He 's taen out his little pen-knife, 

And he slit down her gown. 
And cut her stays behind her back. 
And forc'd her to lie down. 

13 ' O day, dear sir ! O day, dear sir ! 

dear ! if it were day, 
And me upon my father's steed, 

1 soon shoud ride away.' 

14 ' Your father's steed is in my stable. 

Eating good corn and hay. 
And ye are in my arms twa ; 
What needs you lang for day ? ' 

15 ' If I had paper, pens, and ink. 

And light that I may see, 
I woud write a broad, broad letter 
To my love in Dundee.' 

16 They brought her paper, pen, and ink. 

And light that she might see, 
And she has written a broad letter 
To her love in Dundee. 

17 And aye she wrote, and aye she grat. 

The saut tear blinded her ee ; 
And aye at every verse's end, 
* Haste, my bonny love, to me ! * 

18 * If I had but a little wee boy, 

Would work for meat and fee, 
Would go and carry this letter 
To my love in Dundee ! ' 

19 * here am I, a little wee boy 

Will work for meat and fee. 
Will go and carry that letter 
To your love in Dundee.' 

20 Upstarts the mom, the boy he ran 

Oer mony a hill and dale. 
And he wan on to bonny Dundee 
About the hour o twall. 

21 There Geordy oer a window lay, 

Beholding dale and down ; 



% 



e^' 



236 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



And he beheld a little wee boy- 
Come running to the town. 

22 ' What news ? what news, my little wee boy, 

You run sae hastilie ? ' 
* Your love is stown by Glenlyon, 
And langs y-our face to see.' 

23 ' Gae saddle to me the black, the black, 

Gae saddle to me the brown ; 
Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed 
Will hae me to the town. 

24 ' Get me my hat, dyed o the black. 

My mourning-mantle tee, 

And I will on to Glenlyon, 

See my love ere she die.' 

25 First he tired the black, the black, 

And then he tired the brown, 
And next he tired the swiftest steed 
Ere he wan to the town. 

26 But for as fast as her love rade, 

And as fast as he ran, 



Before he wan to Glenlyon 
His love was dead and gane. 

27 Then he has kissd her cheek, her cheek, 

And he has kissd her chin, 
And he has kissd her comely mouth, 
But no life was therein. 

28 * O wae mat worth you, Glenlyon, 

An ill death mat ye die ! 
Ye 've twind me and the fairest flower 
My eyes did ever see. 

29 ' But I will kiss your cheek, Barbara, 

And I will kiss your chin. 
And I will kiss your comely mouth, 
But neer woman's again. 

30 ' Deal well, deal well at my love's lyke 

The beer but and the wine. 
For ere the morn at this same time 
Ye '11 deal the same at mine.' 



Motherwell's MS., p. 375, from the recitation of Agnes 
Lyle of Kilbarchan. 

1 FouR-AND-TWENTT ladies fair 

Was playing at the ba. 
And out cam Barbra Livingston, 
The flower amang them a'. 

2 Out cam Barbra Livingston, 

The flower amang them a' ; 
The lusty laird of Linlyon 
Has stown her clean awa. 

3 ' The Hielands is no for me, kind sir, 

The Hielands is no for me ; 

But, if you wud my favour win, 

You 'U tak me to Dundee.' 

4 * The Hielands '11 be for thee, my dear. 

The Hielands will be for thee ; 
To the lusty laird o Linlyon 
A-married ye shall be.' 



5 When they came to Linlyon's yetts, 

And lichted on the green. 
Every ane spak Earse to her. 
The tears cam trinkling down. 

6 When they went to bed at nicht, 

To Linlyon she did say, 
* Och and alace, a weary nicht ! 
Oh, but it 's lang till day ! ' 

7 * Your father's steed in my stable, 

He 's eating corn and hay. 
And you 're lying in my twa arms ; 
What need you long for day ? ' 

8 * If I had paper, pen, and ink, 

And candle for to see, 
I wud write a lang letter 
To my love in Dundee.* 

9 They brocht her paper, pen, and ink, 

And candle for to see. 
And she did write a lang letter 
To her love in Dundee. 



?> 



A 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



237 



10 When he cam to Linlyon's yetts, 
And lichtit on the green, 
But lang or he wan up the stair 
His love was dead and gane. 



11 * Woe be to thee, Linlyon, 

An ill death may thou die I 
Thou micht hae taen anither woman, 
And let my lady be.' 



?'i 



(^ 



Campbell MSS, U, 254. 

1 Bonnie Annie Livingstone 

Was walking out the way, 
By came the laird of Glendinning, 
And he 's stolen her away. 

The Highlands are no for me, kind sir, 

The Highlands are no for me. 
And, if you wad my favour win, 
You 'd take me to Dundee. 

# 

2 He mounted her on a milk-white steed. 

Himself upon a grey. 
He '» taen her to the Highland hiUs, 
And stolen her quite away. 

3 When they came to Glendinning gate. 

They lighted on the green ; 
There many a Highland lord spoke free, 
But fair Annie she spake nane. 

4 When bells were rung, and mass begun, 

And a' men bound for bed, 
Bonnie Annie Livingstone 
Was in her chamber laid. 

6 * O gin It were but day, kind sir ! 
O gin it were but day ! 
O gin it were but day, kind sir. 
That I might win away ! " 

6 * Your steed stands in the stall, bonnie Ann, 
Eating corn and hay, 



And you are in Glendinning's arms ; 
What need ye long for day ? * 

7 *0 fetch me paper, pen, and ink, 

A candle that I may see. 
And I will write a long letter 
To Jemmy at Dundee.* 

8 When Jemmie looked the letter on, 

A loud laughter gave he ; 

But eer he read the letter oer 

The tear blinded his ee. 

9 * Gar saddle,' he cried, ' my war-horse fierce. 

Warn a' my trusty clan, 
And I '11 away to Glendinning Castle 
And see my sister Ann.' 

10 When he came to Glendinning yet, 

He lighted on the green. 
But ere that he wan up the stair 
Fair Annie she was gane. 

11 'The Highlands were not for thee, bonnie 

Ann, 
The Highlands were not for thee. 
And they that would have thy favour won 
Should have brought you home to me. 

12 * O I will kiss thy cherry cheeks. 

And I will kiss thy chin. 
And I will kiss thy rosy lips. 
For they will neer kiss mine.' 



238 



222. BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON 



E 



Kinloch MSS, V, 355, in the handwriting of John Hill 
Burton. 

1 Bonny Baby Livingstone 

"Went out to view the hay, 
And by there came a Hieland lord, 
And he 's stown Baby away. 

2 He 's stown her in her coat, her coat. 

And he 's stown her in her gown, 
And he let not her look back again 
Ere she was many a mile from town. 

3 He set her on a milk-white steed. 

Himself upon another, 
And they are on to bonny Lochell, 
Like sister and like brother. 

4 The bells were rung, the mass was sung. 

And all men bound to bed, 
And Baby and her Hieland lord 

They were both in one chamber laid. 



5 ' Oh day, kind sir ! Oh day, kind sir ! 

Oh day fain would I see ! 
I would gie a' the lands o Livingstone 
For day-light, to lat me see.' ; 

6 * Oh day, Baby ? Oh day, Baby ? 

What needs you long for day ? 
Your steed is in a good stable. 

And he 's eating baith corn and hay. 

7 ' Oh day, Baby ? Oh day. Baby ? 

What needs you long for day ? 

You 'r lying in a good knight's arms. 

What needs you long for day ? ' 

8 ' Ye '11 get me paper, pen, and ink, 

And light to let me see. 
Till I write on a broad letter 
And send 't to Lord . . .' 



r<.ii 



i. " On the other page you will find the whole bal- 
lad of Bonny Baby Livingston. I found 
upon recollection that I had the whole story 
in my memory, and thought it better to 
write it out entire, as what I repeated to 
you was, I think, more imperfect." Mrs 
Brown, MS., Appendix, p. xv. 

a. 35*. first may be fast, as in b. 

b. 1". gaed out. 2K And first. 2". in his. 
3^. He 's mounted her upon a. 

4^. oer yon hich hich hill. 4^. Intill a. 

4". He met. 5^ And there. 

5\ And there were kids sae fair. 

5'. But sad and wae was bonny Baby. 

5*. was fu o. 

6^. He 's taen her in his arms twa. 

6'. I wad gie a' my flocks and herds. 

6*. Ae smile frae thee to. 

7. A smile frae me ye 'se never win, 

I '11 neer look kind on thee ; 
Ye 've stown me awa frae a' my km, 

Frae a' that 's dear to me. 

Dundee, kind sir, Dundee, kind sir, 
Tak me to bonny Dundee ! 



8«. 
8*. 
9\ 
9». 
102. 
112. 
12». 
13\ 
13*. 
14^ 
14*. 
14«. 
14*. 
15*. 
16^ 
17«. 
18". 
198. 
After 



gang. 



For ye sail neer my favour win 
Till it ance mair I see. 

But I will carry you. 
Where you my bride shall be. 
Or will ye stay at. 9*. And get. 
Or gang wi me to. 9*. we '11 live. 

I care neither for milk nor. 10". 

K I were in. 11*. I 'd send. 

coudna win. 

tongue, my brother John. 13*. I hae. 

This mony a year and day. 

I 've lued her lang and lued her weel. 

But her love I. 

And what I canna fairly gain. 

To steal. 15*. they cam, his three sisters. 

Their brother for to greet. 

And they have taen her bonny Baby. 

why look ye sae. 17*. Come tell. 

I 'm far frae. 19^. Afore. 

letter wrate. 19*. And sent to. 
19 : And gin I had a bonny boy 
To help me in my need, 
That he might rin to bonny Dundee, 
And come again wi speed. 



223. EPPIE MOBBIE 



239 



Wanting. 21^. And they hae. 

Their errand for to gang. 
21^. And bade him run to bonny Dundee. 
21*. And nae to tarry lang. 22, 23. Wanting, 

oer muir. 24^. As fast as he. 
26. Wanting. 



20. 
21« 



24^ 
25, 



27. Whan Johnie lookit the letter on, 
A hearty laugh leuch he ; 
But ere he read it till an end 
The tear blinded his ee. 

O wha is this, or what is that, 
Has stown my love f rae me ? 



Although he were my ae brither, 
An ill dead sail he die. 

28^. Gae saddle to me the black, he says. 
28^^*^ Gae. 29\ He 's called upon his merry. 



292. 
29». 
29*. 
30^ 
30». 
31^. 
32^ 
35*. 



To follow him to. 

And he 's vowd he 'd neither. 

he got his. 30^. him on. 

And fast he rade away. 

And he 's come to Glenlyon's yett. 

And the. 31*. Aneath. 

window loup. 34. Wanting. 

As fast. 36*. laverock. 37^. nae the. 



B. 3*. ewes. Indistinctly/ written. 5'^. fore. 



223 

EPPIE MORRIE 

' Eppie Morrie,' Maidment's North Countrie Garland, p. 40, 18 



" This ballad," says Maidment, " is prob- 
ably much more than a century old, though 
the circumstances which have given rise to it 
were unfortunately too common to preclude 
the possibility of its being of a later date." 
He does not tell us where the ballad came 
from, and no other editor seems to know of it. 
Two stanzas, 10, 11, occur in a copy of ' Rob 
Roy' (No 225, J) which had once been in 
Maidment's hands, and perhaps was obtained 
from the same region. 

Four-and-twenty Highlanders, the leader of 
whom is one Willie, come to Strathdon from 
Carrie (Carvie?) side to steal away Eppie 
Morrie, who has refused to marry Willie. 
They tie her on a horse and take her to a 
minister, whom Willie, putting a pistol to his 
breast, orders to marry them. The minister 
will not consent unless Eppie is willing, and 
she strenuously refuses ; so they take her to 



Carrie side and put her to bed. She defends 
herself successfully, and in the morning comes 
in her lover, Belbordlane, or John Forsyth, 
well armed, and we presume well supported, 
who carries her back to her mother, to be his 
bride. 

Scott, Introduction to Rob Roy, Appendix, 
No V, cites two stanzas of a ballad derived 
from tradition which, if we had the whole, 
might possibly turn out to be the same story 
with different names. 

Four-and-twenty Hieland men 

Came doun by Fiddoch side. 
And they have sworn a deadly aith 

Jean Muir suld be a bride. 

And they have sworn a deadly aith, 

like man upon his durke. 
That she should wed with Duncan Ger, 

Or they 'd make bloody worke. 



240 



223. EPPIE MORRIE 



1 FouB-and-twenty Highland men 

Came a' from Carrie side 
To steal awa Eppie Morrie, 
Cause she would not be a bride. 

2 Out it 's came her mother, 

It was a moonlight night, 
She could not see her daughter. 
Their swords they shin'd so bright. 

3 ' Haud far awa f rae me, mother, 

Hand far awa frae me ; 
There 's not a man in a' Strathdon 
Shall wedded be with me.' 



10 ' Haud far awa frae me, Willie, 

Haud far awa frae me ; 
Before I 'U lose my maidenhead, 
I '11 try my strength with thee.' 

11 She took the cap from off her head 

And threw it to the way ; 
Said, Ere I lose my maidenhead, 
I '11 fight with you till day. 

12 Then early in the morning. 

Before her clothes were on, 
In came the maiden of Scalletter, 
Gown and shirt alone. 



4 They have taken Eppie Morrie, 

And horse back bound her on. 
And then awa to the minister. 
As fast as horse could gang. 

5 He 's taken out a pistol, 

And set it to the minister's breast : 
' Marry me, marry me, minister, 
Or else I '11 be your priest.' 

6 ' Haud far awa frae me, good sir, 

Haud far awa frae me ; 
For there 's not a man in aU Strathdon 
That shall married be with me.' 

7 ' Haud far awa frae me, Willie, 

Haud far awa frae me ; 
For I darna avow to marry you. 
Except she 's as willing as ye.' 

8 They have taken Eppie Morrie, 

Since better could nae be. 
And they 're awa to Carrie side, 
As fast as horse could flee. 



13 ' Get up, get up, young woman, 

And drink the wine wi me ; ' 
*You might have called me maiden, 
I 'm sure as leal as thee.' 

14 ' Wally fa you, Willie, 

That ye could nae prove a man 
And taen the lassie's maidenhead ! 
She would have hired your han.' 

15 ' Haud far awa frae me, lady, 

Haud far awa frae me ; 
There 's not a man in a' Strathdon 
The day shall wed wi me.' 

16 Soon in there came Belbordlane, 

With a pistol on every side : 
* Come awa hame, Eppie Morrie, 
And there you '11 be my bride.' 

17 ' Go get to me a horse, Willie, 

And get it like a man. 
And send me back to my mother 
A maiden as I cam. 



9 When mass was sung, and bells were rung, 
And all were bound for bed. 
Then Willie an Eppie Morrie 
In one bed they were laid. 



18 ' The sun shines oer the westlin hills ; 
By the light lamp of the moon. 
Just saddle your horse, young John Forsyth, 
And whistle, and I '11 come soon.' 



5^ pistol, and. 5\ Set. 



16». their. 



824. THE LADY OF ABNGOSK 



241 



224 

THE LADY OF ARNGOSK 

Sharpe's Ballad Book, 182S, p. 99. 



" The following fragment," says Sharpe in 
his preface (he had not then recovered the 
second stanza), " I cannot illustrate either 
from history or tradition." Very soon after 
the publication of the Ballad Book, full par- 
ticulars of the carrying off of the Lady of 
Arngosk were procured for him by David 
Webster, the bookseller. Webster addressed 
himself to Mrs Isobell Dow, otherwise Mrs 
Mac Leish, of Newburgh, Fife, whose mother, 
he had learned, was waiting-maid to the lady 
at the time of the rape. " In my very early 
years," he wrote, July 4, 1823, " I have lis- 
tened with great delight to my mother when 
she sung me a song the first stanza of which 
was this : 

The Highlandmen are a' cum down, 
They 're a' cum down almost, 

They 've stowen awa the bonny lass, 
The lady of Arngosk. 

" Now Miss Finlay informs me that Isobel 
Stewart, your mother, was waiting-maid to 
the ' bonny lass ' at the time she was ' stowen 
awa,' and that you are the most likely person 
now alive who will be able to recollect the 
song, or the particulars that gave rise to it. 
My reason for requesting this favour from a 
lady I have not the pleasure to know is, some 
gentlemen, my acquaintance, are making a 
collection of old Scots songs, which is print- 
ing, and they are anxious to have it as full as 
possible. We therefore wish a copy of the 
song entire, if you can recollect it, and the 
name of the lady who was the ' bonny lass,' " 
etc. Mrs Dow replied, July 8, through John 
Masterton, that she was " sorrow " to say that 

* I owe the knowledge of these letters to Mr Macmath, 
who sent me a copy that he was allowed to make by the 
vot» IV. 31 



she could not recollect more of the song than 
Webster was already in possession of, but the 
story she could never forget, having heard her 
mother repeat it so often : and this story 
Masterton proceeds to give in Mrs Dow's own 
words. Although Mrs Dow was liberal of de- 
tails, Webster seems to have wanted to hear 
more, and accordingly Masterton writes at 
greater length July 30, repeating what had 
been said before, with " some particular inci- 
dents " omitted in the former letter, but noth- 
ing very material except that Miss Gibb was 
rich, and that Isobell Dow had "brought to 
her recolection another verse of the song" 
(st. 2). The earlier letter even is somewhat 
out of proportion to so meagre a relic of verse, 
an intolerable deal of bread to a half-penny 
worth of sack; but it is very readable, and 
has some value as a chapter from domestic 
life in Scotland in the first half of the last 
century.* 

Newbtjegh, 8 July, 1823. 

Dear Sir. I am directed by Isobell Dow to ac- 
knowledge the receipt of your letter, and to write 
you an answer to your request respecting the steal- 
ing awa the Lady of Arngosk. She is sorrow to 
say she cannot recolect any more of the song than 
what you are in possession ofiE already. As for the 
truth of the story, she can never forget, having 
heard her mother repeat it so often. I will there- 
fore give you it in her own words. 

Yours, &c., Jn Masterton. 

My mother was waiting-maid to the Lady of 
Arngask, whose name was Miss Margret Gibb, at 
which time two gentlemen paid addresses to her ; 
the one a Mr Jamieson, a writer in Strathmiglo, 
the other a Mr Graham, of Bracko Castle, who was 

courtesy of the Messrs Brodie of Edinburgh, in whose pos- 
session they now are. 



242 



224. THE LADY OF ARNGOSK 



the subject of the etory ; but his love did not meet 
with a return suitable to his wishes ; he therefore 
came to the strong resolution of taking her away 
by force. It will be proper to mention that he came 
two nights previous, when my mother was in the 
barn dighting corn, and accosted her thus : Tiby, 
I want to see Margret. She answerd : I doubt, 
Mr Graham, you canna see her the night, but I '11 
gang an tell her. She went and was orderd to 
tell him that he could not see her ; which put him 
in such a frenzy that he ran up and down the barn 
through chaff and corn up to the middle ; however, 
he forced in to her company, but what passed be- 
twixt them my mother did not know. But on the 
second night after, at midnight, when in bed (my 
mother alway sleeping with Miss Gibb),* a very 
sharp knock was heard at the door, which alarmd 
them very much, it being a lonely place. My 
mother went and called, who was there ; she was 
answered. Open the door, Tiby, and see. She 
said : Keep me ! Mr Graham, what way are you 
here at this time? Ye canna won in the night. 
She drew the bar, and was almost frighted out of 
her sences by the appearance of above thirty Hil- 
landmen on horseback, all armed with swords and 
dirks, &c. She atempted to shut the door again, 
but Mr Graham pressed his knee in and forced his 
way. He went ben, and ordered them to put on 
their clothes an go along with him. Miss Gibb 
insisted on stoping ere daylight, and she would go 
with good will ; but he would admit of no delay, but 
ordered her to dress herself imediately, otherwise he 
would do it by force. She then said she would not 
go unless Tiby acompanied her, which he said he 
intended to propose had she not mentioned it ; but 
my mother would not go, she said, to ride behind 
none of these Hillandmen. Mr Graham then pro- 
posed to take her behind himself. They did then 
all mount ; he at the same time used the precaution 
of placing sentries on the houses where the other 
servants lodged, to prevent them giving the alarm, 
and also three stout men at the bell of the church, 
to prevent it being rung. They kept their posts 
till they thought them a sufl&cient distance on the 
way, Mr Graham always joking to my mother about 
something or other, asuring her so soon as he had 
all over he would make her happy and comfortable 
all the days of her life. They rode on over hill and 
dale till within sight of Bracko Castle, when all of 
a sudden the Hillanmen dispersed, or deserted them, 
excepting his own imediate servants ; which my 

* " Being her guardian as well as waiting-maid, as ap- 
pointed by old Mrs Gibb when on her death-bed, they being, 
as the saying is, cousins once removed." Letter of July 30. 



mother thought was because he had deceived them, 
saying that the lady was willing to marry him but 
her friends would not alow, which by this time they 
must have found out. He told my mother that a 
minister was waiting them at Bracko, but he must 
have been disappointed, for the minister never ap- 
peared ; else, she always thought, they would been 
married. Report said that Mr Jamieson had so 
contrived to stop his arrival. My mother and Miss 
Margret were then secured in an uper room in the 
castle tiU the next day, when there appeared mostly 
all the men of the parishes of Arngask and Strath- 
miglo, demanding their lady ; my father among the 
rest, demanding my mother as his intended wife. 
It seemed so soon as the Hillan sentries were gone 
from the houses and church-bell of Arngask, that 
the servants ran to the bell, and rang such a peal as 
made all the Ochles resound wi the sad news that 
their lady was stowen awa by Graham an his clan. 
Mr Jamieson was no less busy in alarming and rous- 
ing the indignation of the good folk of Strathmiglo, 
who were much atached to her interest, so that 
both parishes rose to a man, and armed themselves 
with whatever came in the way, and marched in a 
body to make an attack on the castle, and rescue 
their much esteemed lady. But on their making 
their appearance before the castle in such formidable 
array, Mr Graham thought it prudent to surender 
rather than sustain the attack of such a body of des- 
perate men. Mr Graham conducted them down 
stairs with his cap in hand (the gentlemen in those 
days wore velvet caps), and addressed her thus: 
I shall see you on your horse, Margret, for a' the 
ill you 've done me, and bade her a long and last- 
ing farewell ; at which she stamped with her foot 
and recommended him to the devil. They all came 
home in safety, and the bells, that so lately rang to 
alarm and spread the dismal news, were again rung 
to proclaim the happy return of the lady that was 
stowen awa. Bonefires were also erected on the 
highest of the Ochles. She was married that same 
year to Mr Jamieson, and I suppose some of their 
children are alive to this day. It was generaly 
reported that Mr Graham was so much affronted 
at the dissapointment that he left the country soon 
after. 

Such, sir, is the story that gave rise to the song 
you are so much in request off, which I have gath- 
ered from Isobell Dow, and put in order according 
to my weak capacity, knowing it will fall into bet- 
ter and abler hands, and that, altho the song be a 
wanting, there is ample mater for composition. 

I remain your most Obed' H^'Serv', 

John Masterton, for Isobell Dow. 



225. ROB ROY 



243 



P. S. I had almost forgot to mention as to the 
period of time when it happened, which cannot be 
less than 87 years, which Isobell makes out in the 
following maner; it being two years before her 
father and mother was married, and that they 



lived together fifty-one years, it being now thirty- 
four years since her mother died, which makes it to 
have been about the year 1736. 

J.M. 



1 The Highlandmen hae a' come dovm, 

They 've a' come down almost, 
They 've stowen away the bonny lass, 
The Lady of Arngosk. 

2 They hae put on her petticoat, 

Likewise her silken gown ; 



The Highland man he drew his sword, 
Said, Follow me ye 's come. 

3 Behind her back they *ve tied her hands, 
An then they set her on ; 
* I winna gang wi you,' she said, 
* Nor ony Highland loon.' 



225 

ROB ROY 

A. Skene MS., p. 44. O. ♦ Rob Roy,* Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, 

II, 199. 

B. 'Rob Roy,' Kinloch MSS, I, 343. 

H. Sir Walter Scott's Introduction to «« Rob Roy," 

C. ' Rob Roy MacGregor,' Motherwell's MS., p. 93. Appendix, No V. 

D. 'Rob Roy,' "Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border I. 'Rob Roy,' Campbell's MSS, II, 58. 
Minstrelsy," No 147, Abbotsford. 

J. 'Rob Oig,' A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, 

E. « Rob Roy,' Piteairn's MSS, III, 41. p. 10, Aungervyle Society, 1881. 



P. ' Rob Roy,' Campbell MSS, II, 229. 



K. * Rob Roy,* Laing's Thistle of Scotland, p. 93. 



The hero of this ballad was the youngest 
of the five sons of the Rob Roy who has been 
immortalized by Sir Walter Scott, and was 
known as Robert Oig, young, or junior. When 
a mere boy (only twelve years old, it is said) 
he shot a man mortally whom he considered 
to have intruded on his mother's land, and 
for not appearing to underlie the law for this 
murder he was outlawed in 1736. He had 
fled to the continent, and there he enlisted in 
the British army, and was wounded and made 



prisoner at Fontenoy in 1745. He was ex 
changed, returned to Scotland and obtained a 
discharge from service, and, though still under 
ban, was able to effect a marriage with a 
woman of respectable family. She lived but 
a few years, and after her death, whether 
spontaneously or under the influence of his 
brother James, a man of extraordinary hardi- 
hood, Rob Oig formed a plan of bettering hia 
own fortune, and incidentally that of his kin, 
by a marriage of the Sabine fashion with a 



244 



225. ROB ROY 



woman of means. The person selected was 
Jean Key, who had been two months the 
widow of John Wright. She was but nine- 
teen years of age, and was living with her 
mother at Edinbelly, in Stirlingshire, and her 
property is said to have been, not the twenty 
thousand pounds of some of the ballads, but 
some sixteen or eighteen thousand marks. 

On the night of December 8, 1750, Rob 
Oig, accompanied by his brothers James and 
Duncan and others, first placing guards at the 
door and windows, to prevent escape from 
within and help from without, entered the 
house of Jean Key, and not finding her, be- 
cause she had taken alarm and hidden her- 
self in a closet, obliged the mother to produce 
her daughter, under threats " to murder every 
person in the family, or to burn the house 
and every person in it alive." Jean Key, on 
being brought out, was told by James Mac- 
Gregor that the party had come to marry her 
to Robert, his brother. " Upon her desiring 
to be allowed till next morning, or some few 
hours, to deliberate upon the answer she was 
to give to so unexpected and sudden a pro- 
posal as a marriage betwixt her, then not two 
months a widow, and a man with whom she 
had no manner of acquaintance," after some 
little expostulation, they laid hands upon her, 
dragged her out of doors, tied her on the back 
of a horse, and carried her first to a house at 
Buchanan, six miles from Edinbelly, thence 
to Rowerdennan, "thence, by water, to some 
part of the Highlands about the upper part of 
Loch Lomond, out of the reach of her friends 
and relations, where she was detained in cap- 
tivity and carried from place to place for up- 
wards of three months." At Rowerdennan, 
or further north, a priest read the marriage- 
service while the resolute James held up the 
young woman before him, and declared Rob 
Oig and her to be man and wife. 



The rest of the story does not come into 
the ballad, but it may be added that both the 
military and the civil power took the matter 
in hand ; that the MacGregors found it nec- 
essary to release their captive (who died, but 
not of the violence she had undergone, ten 
months after she was taken away) ; that 
James MacGregor was brought to trial in July, 
1752, for hamesucken (invasion of a private 
house), forcible abduction of a woman, and 
constraining her to a marriage, was convicted 
of a part of the charge but not of the last 
count, and while the court had the verdict un- 
der consideration made his escape from Edin- 
burgh castle ; that Rob Oig was apprehended 
the following year, tried and condemned to 
death, and was executed in February, 1754.* 

We may easily believe that, as Scott says, 
the imagination of half-civilized Highlanders 
was not much shocked at the idea of winning 
a wife in a violent way. It had been com- 
mon, and they may naturally have wondered 
why it should seem so particular in their in- 
stance. It is certain that Jean Key did not 
receive the sympathy of all of her own sex. ^am^^- 
A lady of much celebrity has told us that it '1\,\a\'^ 
is safest in matrimony to begin with a little 
aversion, and there were those in Jean Key's 
day, and after, who thought it mere silliness to 
make a coil about a little compulsion. " It is 
not a great many years," Sir Walter Scott tes- 
tifies, "since a respectable woman, above the 
lower rank of life, expressed herself very 
warmly to the author on his taking the free- 
dom to censure the behaviour of the MacGreg- 
ors on the occasion in question. She said, ' that 
there was no use in giving a bride too much 
choice upon such occasions ; that the mar- 
riages were happiest lang syne which had 
been done off hand.' Finally, she averred 
that her 'own mother had never seen her 
father till the night he brought her up from 



* The jury, in James's trial, brought in a special verdict 
with the intent to save his life, but no such effort was made 
in favor of Rob Oig, though there was a mitigating circum- 
stance in his case. For Jean Key " had informed her 
friends that, on the night of her being carried off, Robin 
Oig, moved by her cries and tears, had partly consented to 
let her return, when James came up, with a pistol in his 
hand, and asking whether he was such a coward as to relin- 



quish an enterprise in which he had risked everything to 
procure him a fortune, in a manner compelled his brother 
to persevere." It may be remarked, by the way, that Dun- 
can MacGregor had his trial as well, but was found not 
guilty. ( Scott, Introduction to " Rob Roy," which I have 
mostly followed, introducing passages from the indictment 
in James MacGregor's case when brevity would allow.) 



225. ROB ROY 



245 



the Lennox with ten head of black cattle, and 
there had not been a happier couple in the 
country.' " 

The ballad adheres to fact rather closely ; 
indeed a reasonably good "dittay" could be 
made out of it. The halt at Buchanan is 
mentioned B 8, O 10, K 14 ; the road would 
be through Drymen, as in O 10, K 13 ; and Bal- 
maha, H 2, is a little beyond Buchanan. Bal- 
ly shine is substituted for Buchanan in E 6, J 
4. At Buchanan, or Ballyshine (' as they 
came in by Drimmen town, and in by Edin- 
garry,' K 13), a cloak and gown are bought 
(fetched) for the young woman to be married 
in, B 8, C 10, F 4. It is a cotton gown, B 6, 
coat and gown, A 8 ; in cotton gown she is 
married, J 4; meaning probably that she was 
married in a night-gown, having been roused 
from her bed. It is at Buchanan, or Bally- 
shine, that she is married. Four held her up 
to the priest. A, C, F (two, D, I, K, three, E, 
J, six, B), four laid her in bed, A, B, E, F, I, 
J, K (two, O, D). 

Rob Roy is said to come from Drunkie 
(the home of his first wife), J 1 ; to come over 
the Loch of Lynn, G 2. Jean Key's abode 



seems to be called White House (Wright ?) 
in A 2, but Blackhills, C 2, and in K 2 Jean 
Key is called Blackhill's daughter. Blackhill 
is apparently a corruption of Mitchell, Jean's 
mother's maiden name. The mother is called 
Jean Mitchell in J 2. 

In A 8, Rob Roy's party are wrongly said 
to tarry at Stirling. In J 2, Glengyle is said 
to go with him to steal Jean Mitchell's daugh- 
ter. Glengyle, Rob Oig's cousin, and chief 
of his immediate family was, for a MacGregor, 
an orderly man,* and did not countenance 
the proceeding. J 6, 7 belong to the ballad 
of ' Eppie Morrie,' No 223. 

Rob Oig puts Jean Key's fortune at .£20,- 
000, A 13, C 19 ; 50,000 merks, D 14 ; 30,000, 
K 23 ; 20,000, which was not very far from 
right, E 10. The reading in B 15 is a mani- 
fest corruption of thirty thousand merks. 

Old Rob Roy is in several copies spoken of 
as still alive. Though the time both of his 
birth and death is not accurately known, this 
was certainly not the case. 

H is translated by Fiedler, Geschichte der 
schottischen Liederdichtung, I, 52. 



Skene MS., p. 44; from recitation in the north of Scot- 
land, 1802-3. 

1 Rob Rot, frae the high Highlands, 

Came to the Lawlan border ; 
It was to steel a lady away, 

To keep his Highland house in order. 

2 As he came in by White House, 

He sent nae ane before him ; 
She wad hae secured the house, 
For she did ay abhor him. 

3 Twenty men surrount the house, an twenty 

they went in, 
They found her wi her mither ; 

• "Such, at least, -was his general character; for when 
James Mohr [the Bi<r], while perpetrating the violence at 
Edinbelly, called out, in order to overawe opposition, that 
Glengyle was lying in the moor with a hundred men to pat- 



Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes 
They parted frae ane anither. 

4 ' will ye be my dear ? ' he says, 
' Or will ye be my honnie ? 
O will ye be my wedded wife ? 
I lee you best of ony.' 

6 ' I winna be your dear,' [she says,3 
' Nor will I be your honnie, 
Nor will I be your wedded wife; 
Ye lee me for my money.' 

6 . . . . by the way, 

This lady aftimes fainted ; 
Says, Woe be to my cursed gold, 
This road for me 's invented ! 



ronise his enterprise, Jean Key told him he lied, since she 
was confident Glengyle would never countenance so scoun- 
drelly a business." Scott, Introduction to " Kob Roy," ed. 
1846, p. c. 



246 



225. ROB ROY 



7 He gave her no time for to dress 

Like ladies when they 're ridin. 
But set her on hie horseback, 
Himsel was ay beside her. 

8 Whan they came to the Black Hoase, 

And at Stirling tarried, 
There he bought her coat an gown. 
But she would not [be] married. 

9 Four men held her to the priest, 

An four they did her bed, 
Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes 
Whan she by him was laid. 

10 *Be content, be content. 

Be content wi me, lady ; 
Now ye are my wedded wife 
Untill the day ye die, lady. 

11 * My father was a Highlan laird, 

McGrigor was his name, lady ; 
A' the country roun about 

They dreadit his great fame, lady. 



12 ' He kept a hedge about his lands, 

A prickle to his foes, lady, 
An every ane that did him wrang, 
He took him by the nose, lady. 

13 * My father he delights in nout and goats. 

An me in horse and sheep, lady ; 
You an twenty thousan pounds 
Makes me a man complete, lady. 

14 ' You 're welcome to this Highlan Ian, 

It is my native plain, lady ; 
Think nae mair of gauin back. 
But tak it for your hame, lady. 

15 * I 'm gauin, [I 'm gauin,] 

I 'm gauin to France, lady ; 
Whan I come back 

I '11 learn ye a dancey-4ady. 

16 * Set your foot, [set your foot,] 

Set your foot to mine, lady ; 
Think nae mair of gauin back, 
But tak it for your hame, lady.' 



B 

Kinloch MSS, I, 343. 

1 EOB EOY frae the Hielands cam 

Unto the Lawland border. 
And he has stown a ladie fair. 
To hand his house in order. 

2 He guarded the house round about, 
Himsel went in and found her out, 

She hung close by her mither ; 
Wi dolefu cries and watery eyes 
They parted frae each ither. 

3 ' Gang wi me, my dear,' he says, 

' Gang and be my honey ; 
Gang and be my wedded wife, 
I loe ye best o onie.' 

4 ' I winna gang wi you,' she says, 

' I winna be your honey ; 

I winna be your wedded wife ; 

Ye loe me for my money.' 



5 He gied na her na time to dress 

As ladies whan they 're brides. 
But hurried her awa wi speed. 
And rowd her in his plaids. 

6 He gat her up upon a horse, 

Himsel lap on ahind her ; 
And they 're awa to the Hieland hills ; 
Her friends they canna find her. 

7 As they gaed oure the Hieland hills, 

This lady aften fainted. 
Saying, Wae be to my cursed gowd, 
This road to me invented ! 

8 As they gaed oure the Hieland hills. 

And at Buchanan tarried, 
He bought to her baith cloak and goun. 
Yet she wadna be married. 

9 Six held her up afore the priest, 

Four laid her in a bed, ; 
Maist mournfully she wept and cried 
Whan she bye him was laid, 0. 



225. BOB ROY 



247 



10 * O be content, be content, 

Be content to stay, ladie ; 
For now ye are my wedded wife 
Unto your dying day, ladie. 

11 ' Eob Roy was my father calld, 

M'Gregor was his name, ladie ; 
And in a' the country whare he dwalt 
He exceeded ae in fame, ladie. 

12 * He was a hedge unto his friends, 

A heckle to his f aes, ladie ; 
And ilka ane that did him wrang, 
He beat him on the neis, ladie. 

13 ' I 'm as bold, I am as bold 

As my father was afore, ladie ; 



Ilka ane that does me wrang 

Sail feel my gude claymore, ladie. 

14 * There neer was frae Lochlomond west 
That eer I did him fear, ladie ; 
For, if his person did escape, 
I seizd upon his gear, ladie. 

16 * My father delights in horse and kye, 
In sheep and goats and a', ladie. 
And thee wi me and thirty merks 
Will mak me a man fu braw, ladie. 

16 * I hae been in foreign lands. 

And servd the king o France, ladie ; 
We will get the bagpipes. 

And we '11 hae a dance, ladie.' 



Motherwell's MS., p. 93. 

1 Rob Roy 's from the Hielands come 

Unto our Lowland border, 

And he has stolen a lady away, 

To keep his house in order. 

2 Rob Roy 's come to Blackhill's gate, 

Twenty men his arms did carry, 
And he has stolen a lady away, 
On purpose her to marry. 

3 None knew till he surrounded the house, 

No tidings came before him, 

Or else she had been gone away, 

For she did still abhor him. 

4 All doors and windows guarded were. 

None could the plot discover ; 
Himself went in and found her out. 
Professing how he loved her. 

5 ' Come go with me, my dear,' he said, 

' Come go with me, my honey. 
And you shall be my wedded wife, 
I love you best of onie.' 

6 ' I will not go with you,' she said, 

* Nor will I be your honey ; 

I neer shall be your wedded wife, 

You love me for my money.' 



7 But he her drew amongst his crew. 

She holding by her mother ; 
With mournful cries and watery eyes 
They parted from each other. 

8 No time they gave her to be dressed 

As ladies when they 're brides, O, 
But hurried her away in haste ; 
They rowed her in their plaids, O. 

9 As they went over hills and rocks. 

The lady often fainted ; 
Says, Wae may it be, my cursed money, 
This road to me invented ! 

10 They passed away by Drymen tovm. 

And at Buchanan tarried ; 
They bought to her a cloak and gown, 
Yet she would not be married. 

11 But without consent they joined their hands ; 

By law ought not to carry ; 
The priest his zeal it was so hot 
On her will he would not tarry. 

12 Four held her up before the priest. 

Two laid her in the bed, O ; 
Och, mournfully she weeped and cried 
When she by him was laid, 0. 

13 * Now you 're come to the Highland hills, 

Out of your native clime, lady. 



248 



225. BOB BOY 



Never think of going back, 

But take this for your hame, lady. 

14 ' Be content, be content. 

Be content to stay, lady ; 
Now ye are my wedded wife 
Unto your dying day, lady. 

15 * Rob Roy was my father called. 

But McGregor was his name, lady ; 
In all the country far and near 
None did exceed his fame, lady. 

16 * I 'm as bold, I 'm as bold, 

I 'm as bold as he, lady ; 
In France and Ireland I '11 dance and fight, 
And from them take the gree, lady. 



17 ' He was a hedge about his friends, 

But a heckle to his faes, lady. 
And every one that did him wrong. 
He took them owre the nose, lady. 

18 * I 'm as bold, I 'm as bold, 

I 'm as bold, and more, lady ; 
Every one that does me wrong 
Shall feel my good claymore, lady. 

19 'My* father he has stots and ewes. 

And he has goats and sheep, lady, 
But you and twenty thousand punds 
Makes me a man complete, lady.' 



"Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," 
No 1 47, Abbotsf ord ; in a handwriting of the early part of 
this century. 

1 Rob Rot from the Highlands came 

Unto the Lowland border ; 
It was to steal a ladie away, 
To keep his house in order. 

2 He gae her nae time to dress herself 

Like a lady that was to be married. 
But he hoisd her out among his crew, 
And rowd her in his plaidie. 

3 ' Will ye go wi me, my dear ? ' he says, 

* Will ye go wi me, my honey ? 
Will ye go wi me, my dear ? * he says, 

* For I love you best of ony.* 

4 * I winna be your dear,' she says, 

* Nor I '11 never be your honey ; 
I '11 never be your wedded wife. 

For you love me but for my money.* 

5 He hoisd her out among his crew. 

She holding by her mother ; 
Wi watry eyes and mournfu cries 
They parted from each other. 

6 As they gaed oer yon high hill, 

The ladie often fainted ; 



*0h, wae be to my gold,' she said, 
* This road for me invented ! ' 

7 Two held her up before the priest. 

And two put her to bed, 
Wi mournful cries and watry eyes 
As she lay by his side. 

8 * Be content, be content, 

Be content wi me, ladie, 
For now you are my wedded wife 
Until the day ye die, ladie. 

9 * Rob Roy was my father calld, 

McGrigor was his name, ladie. 
And a' the country round about 
Has heard of Roy's fame, ladie. 

10 ' You do not think yourself a match 

For such a one as I, ladie ; 
But I been east and I been west. 
And saird the king of France, ladie. 

11 * And now we hear the bag-pipe play. 

And we maun hae a dance, ladie, 
And a' the country round about 
Has heard of Roy's fame, ladie. 

12 ' Shake your foot, shake your foot. 

Shake your foot wi me, ladie. 
For now you are my wedded bride 
Until the day ye die, ladie. 



235. ROB BOY 



249 



13 ' My father dealt in cows and ewes, 

Likewise in goats and sheep, ladie. 
And a' the country round about 
Has heard of Boy's fame, ladie. 

14 ' And ye have fifty thousand marks, 

Makes me a man compleat, ladie ; 



Why mayn't I maid 

May I not ride in state, ladie ? 

16 * My father was a Highland laird, 
Altho he be now dead, ladie. 
And a' the country round about 
Has heard of Boy's fame, ladie.' 



B 



Pitcairn's MSS, III, 41 ; "from tradition (Widow Steven- 
son)." 

1 Bob Boy from the Highlands cam 
Unto our Scottish border, 
And he has stown a lady fair. 
To hand his house in order. 



2 And when he cam he surrounded the house ; 

Twenty men their arms did carry ; 
And he has stown this lady fair, 
On purpose her for to marry. 

3 And whan he cam he surrounded the house ; 

No tidings there cam before him, 
Or else the lady would have been gone. 
For still she did abhor him. 

4 Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes, 

Fast handing by her mother, 

Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes 

They parted frae each other. 

6 Nae time he gied her to be dressed 
As ladys do when they 're bride, O, 
But he hastened and hurried her awa. 
And he rowd her in his plaid, O. 



6 They rade till they cam to Ballyshine, 

At Ballyshine they tarried ; 
He bought to her a cotton gown, 
Yet would she never be married. 

7 Three held her up before the priest, 

Four carried her to bed, 0, 
Wi watery eyes and murnfu sighs 
When she behind was laid, O. 

8 * be content, be content. 

Be content to stay, lady. 
For you are my wedded wife 
Unto my dying day, lady. 

Be content, etc. 

9 ' My father is Bob Boy called, 

MacGregor is his name, lady ; 
In aU the country whare he dwells. 
He does succeed the fame, lady. 
Be content, etc. 

10 * My father he has cows and ewes, 
And goats he has anew, lady, 
And you and twenty thousand merks 
Will mak me a man complete, lady.* 
Be content, etc. 



N 



o 



p 

Campbell MSS, 11, 229. 

1 Bob Boy frae the Highlands came 

Unto the Lawland border. 
And he has stolen a lady away, 
To hand his house in order. 

2 He 's pu'd her out amang his men, 

She holding by her mother ; 



32 



With mournfu cries and watery eyes 
They parted frae each other. 

3 When they came to the heigh hill-gate, 

O it 's aye this lady fainted : 
* O wae ! what has that cursed monie 
That 's thrown to me invented ? ' 

4 When they came to the heigh hill-gate, 

And at Buchanan tarried, 



Ni 



250 



225. BOB BOY 



They fetchd to her a cloak and gown, 
Yet wad she not be married. 

5 Four held her up before the priest, 

Four laid her on her bed, 
With mournfu cries and watery eyes 
When she by him was laid. 

6 ' I '11 be kind, I 'U be kind, 

I '11 be kind to thee, lady, 
And all the country for thy sake 
Shall surely favoured be, lady. 

7 ' Be content, be content, 

Be content and stay, lady ; 
Now ye are my weded wife 
Until your dying-day, ladie. 

8 ' Rob Roy was my father called, 

McGregor was his name, lady ; 
In every country where he was. 
He did exceed the fame, lady. 



9 * He was a hedge about his friends, 
A terror to his foes, lady. 
And every one that did him wrong. 
He hit them oer the nose, lady. 

10 ' Be content, be content, 

Be content and stay, lady ; 
Now ye are my wedded wife 
Until your dying-day, lady. 

11 ' We win go, we will go. 

We will go to France, lady. 
Where I before for safety fled, 
And there wee '1 get a dance, lady. 

12 ' Shake a fit, shake a fit, 

Shake a fit to me, lady ; 
Now ye are my wedded wife 
Until your dying-day, lady. 



G 



Cromek, Select Scoti'sh Songs, 1810, II, 194, 199; sent by 
Barns to William Tytler, in a letter. 

1 Rob Rot from the Highlands cam 

Unto the Lawlan border. 
To steal awa a gay ladie. 
To hand his house in order. 

2 He cam owre the Lock o Lynn, 

Twenty men his arms did carry ; 
Himsel gaed in an fand her out, 
Protesting he would marry. 

/ 3*0 will ye gae wi me' ? he says, 
I ' Or will ye be my honey ? 

Or will ye be my wedded wife ? 
For I love you best of any.' 

4 ' I winna gae wi you,' she says, 
. ' Nor will I be your honey. 
Nor will I be your wedded wife ; 
You love me for my money.' 



5 But he set her on a coal-black steed, 
Himsel lap on behind her, 
An he 's awa to the Highland hills, 
Whare her f riens they canna find her. 



6 ' Rob Roy was my father ca'd, 

MacGregor was his name, ladie ; 
He led a band o heroes bauld, 
An I am here the same, ladie. 

( T) ' Be content, be content. 

Be content to stay, ladie ; 
For thou art my wedded wife 
Until thy dying day, ladie. 

8 ' He was a hedge unto his f riens, 
A heckle to his foes, ladie. 
Every one that durst him wrang, 
He took him by the nose, ladie. 



(31 



9/ * I 'm as bold, I 'm as bold, 

I 'm as bold, an more, ladie ; 
He that daurs dispute my word 
Shall feel my guid claymore, ladie.' 



225. ROB ROY 



251 



Sir Walter Scott's Introduction to his novel " Rob Roy," 
Appendix, No V, Waverley Novels, Cadell, 1846, VII, 
cxxxiii ; " from memory." 

1 Rob Roy is frae the Hielands come 

Down to the Lowland border, 
And he has stolen that lady away, 
To hand his house in order. 

2 He set her on a milk-white steed, 

Of none he stood in awe, 
Untill they reached the Hieland hills, 
Aboon the Balmaha. 

3 Saying, Be content, be content, 

Be content with me, lady ; 
Where will ye find in Lennox land 
Sae braw a man as me, lady ? 



4 ' Rob Roy he was my father called, 

MacGregor was his name, lady ; 
A' the country, far and near. 

Have heard MacGregor's fame, lady. 

5 ' He was a hedge about his friends, 

A heckle to his foes, lady ; 
If any man did him gainsay, 
He felt his deadly blows, lady. 

6 * I am as bold, I am as bold, 

I am as bold, and more, lady ; 
Any man that doubts my word 
May try my gude claymore, lady. 

7 * Then be content, be content, 

Be content with me, lady, 
For now you are my wedded wife 
Until the day ye die, lady.' 



Campbell MSS, II, 58. 

1 Rob Rot is frae the Highlands come 

Unto the Scottish border, 
And he has stolen a lady gay. 
To keep his house in order. 

2 He and his crew surrounded the house ; 

No tidings came before him. 
Or else I 'm sure she wad been gone, 
For she did still abhore him. 

3 He drew her thro amang his crew. 

She holding by her mother ; 
With watery eyes and mournfu cries 
They parted from each other. 

4 He 's set her on a milk-white steed, 

Himself jumped on behind her. 
And he 's awa to the Highland hills. 
And her friends they couldna find her. 

5 * O be content, be content, 

O be content and stay, lady. 

And never think of going back 

Until your dying day, lady.' 

6 As they went over hills and dales. 

This lady oftimes fainted ; 



Cries, Wae be to that cursed money 
This road to me invented ! 

7 * O dinna think, dinna think, 

O dinna think to ly, lady ; 
O think na ye yersell weel matchd 
On sic a lad as me, lady ? 

8 * What think ye o my coal-black hair. 

But and my twinkling een, lady, 
A little bonnet on my head, 
And cocket up aboon, lady ? 

9 * O dinna think, O dinna think, 

dinna think to ly, lady ; 
O think nae ye yersell weel matchd 
On sic a lad as me, lady ? 

10 ' Rob Roy was my father calld, 

But Gregory was his name, lady ; 
There was neither duke nor lord 
Could eer succeed his fame, lady. 

11 * O may not I, may not I, 

May not I succeed, lady ? 
My old father did so design ; 
O now but he is dead, lady. 

12 ' My father was a hedge about his friends, 

A heckle to his foes, lady. 



252 



225. ROB ROY 



And every one that did him wrang, 
He hit them oer the nose, lady. 

13 'I ['m] as bold, I fm] as bold, 

I ['m] as bold, and more, lady, 
And every one that does me wrong 
Shall feel my good claymore, lady. 

14 * You need not fear our country cheer, 

Ye 'se hae good entertain, lady ; 
For ye shall hae a feather-bed, 

Both lang and broad and green, lady. 

15 * Come, be content, come, be content, 

Come, be content and stay, lady, 
And never think of going back 
Until yer dying day, lady.' 



16 Twa held her up before the priest, 

Four laid her in her bed, 
And sae mournfully she weeping cry'd 
When she by him was laid ! 

17 ' Come, dinna think, come, dinna think. 

Come, dinna think to ly, lady ; 
You '11 surely think yersell weel matchd 
On sic a lad as me, lady. 

18 ' Come, be content, come, be content, 

Come, be content and stay, lady. 
And never think of going back 
Until your dying day, lady.' 



A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Annffervyle 
Society, 1881, from a manuscript which had belonged to 
Maidment. 

1 Fkom Drunkie in the Highlands, 

With four and twenty men, 
Rob Oig is cam, a lady fair 
To carry from the plain. 

2 Glengyle and James with him are cam, 

To steal Jean Mitchell's dauchter, 
And they have borne her far away, 
To hand his house in order. 

3 And he has taen Jean Key's white hand. 

And torn her grass-green sleeve, 
And rudely tyed her on his horse, 
At her friends asked nae leave. 



5 Three held her up before the priest. 

Four carried her to bed, O ; 
Wi watery eyes and mournfu sighs 
She in bed wi Rob was laid, O. 

6 * Haud far awa from me, Rob Oig, 

Haud far awa from me ! 
Before I lose my maidenhead, 
I '11 try my strength with thee.' 

7 She 's torn the cap from ofp her head 

And thrown it to the way, 
But ere she lost her maidenhead 
She fought with him till day. 

8 * Wae fa, Rob Oig, upon your head ! 

For you have ravished me, 
And taen from me my maidenhead ; 
O would that I could dee ! ' 



if 



|A 



.■^ 



4 They rode till they cam to Bally shine. 
At Ballyshine they tarried ; 
Nae time he gave her to be dressed. 
In cotton gown her married. 



9 * My father he is Rob Roy called. 
And he has cows and ewes. 
And you are now my wedded wife. 
And can nae longer chuse.' 



225. ROB ROY 



253 



Laing's Thistle of Scotland, p. 93 ; componnded, with some 
alterations, from two copies, one from Miss Harper, Kil- 
drummy, the other from the Kev. K. Scott, Glenbucket. 

1 Rob Roy frae the Highlands came 

Doun to our Lowland border ; 
It was to steal a lady away, 
To baud his house in order. 

2 With four-and-twenty Highland men, 

His arms for to carry, 
He came to steal Blackhill's daughter, 
That lady for to marry. 

3 Nae ane kend o his comming, 

Nae tiddings came before him, 
Else the lady woud hae been away, 
For still she did abhore him. 

4 They guarded doors and windows round, 

Nane coud their plot discover; 
Rob Roy enterd then alane, 
Expressing how he lovd her. 

6 ' Come go with me, my dear,' he said, 

• Come go with me, my honey, 
And ye shall be my wedded wife. 

For I love you best of any.' 

6 ' I will not go with you,* she said, 

• I '11 never be your honey ; 

I will not be your wedded wife, 
Your love is for my money.' 

7 They woud not stay till she was drest 

As ladies when thei 'r brides, O, 
But hurried her awa in haste. 
And rowd her in their plaids, O. 

8 He drew her out among his crew. 

She holding by her mother; 
With mournful cries and watry eyes 
They parted from each other. 

9 He placed her upon a steed, 

Then jumped on behind her, 
And they are to the Highlands gone. 
Her friends they cannot find her. 

10 With many a heavy sob and wail, 

They saw, as they stood by her. 
She was so guarded round about 
Her friends could not come nigh her. 

11 Her mournful cries were often heard. 

But no aid came unto her; 
They guarded her on every side 
That they could not resciie her. 



12 Over rugged hills and dales 

They rode ; the lady fainted ; 
Cried, Woe be to my cursed gold 
That has such roads invented! 

13 As they came in by Drimmen town 

And in by Edingarry, 
He bought to her both cloak and gown, 
Still thinking she would marry. 

14 As they went down yon bonny burn-side, 

They at Buchanan tarried ; 
He clothed her there as a bride, 
Yet she would not be married. 

15 Without consent they joind their hands. 

Which law ought not to carry; 
His passion waxed now so hot 
He could no longer tarry. 

16 Two held her up before the priest. 

Four laid her in the bed then, 
With sighs and cries and watery eyes 
When she was laid beside him. 

17 *Ye are come to our Highland hills, 

Far frae thy native clan, lady ; 
Never think of going back. 
But take it for thy home, lady. 

18 'I'll be kind, I'll be kind, 

I '11 be kind to thee, lady ; 
All the country, for thy sake, 
Shall surely favourd be, lady. 

19 ' Rob Roy was my father calld, 

MacGregor was his name, lady, 
And all the country where he dwelt 
He did exceed for fame, lady. 

20 * Now or then, now or then. 

Now or then deny, lady ; 
Don't you think yourself well of 
With a pretty man like I, lady? 

21 ' He was a hedge about his friends, 

A heckle to his foes, lady. 
And all that did him any wrong, 
He took them by the nose, lady. 

22 * Don't think, don't think, 

Don't think I lie, lady, 
Ye may know the truth by what 
Was done in your country, lady. 

28 ' My father delights in cows and horse, 
Likewise in goats and sheep, lady, 
And you with thirty thousand marks 
Makes me a man complete, lady. 



254 



225. BOB ROY 



24 * Be content, be content, 

Be content and stay, lady; 
Now ye are my wedded wife 
Untill your dying day, lady. 

25 ' Your friends will all seek after me, 

But I '11 give them the scorn, lady ; 
Before dragoons come oer the Forth, 
We shall be doun by Lorn, lady. 

26 * I am bold, I am bold, 

But bolder than before, lady ; 



Any one dare come this way 

Shall feel my good claymore, lady. 

27 ♦ "We shall cross the raging seas. 

We shall go to France, lady ; 
There we '11 gar the piper play, 
And then we '11 have a dance, lady. 

28 * Shake a foot, shake a foot, 

Shake a foot wi me, lady, 
And ye shall be my wedded wife 
Until the day ye die, lady.* 



X 



A. 6*'^ In one line : By the way this lady aftimes 

fainted. Cf. B 7, C 9, etc. 
12*^. prickle : a had reading for heckle. 
15, 16. Each written in two lines in the MS. 

B. 15'. wi me and thirty merks. Corrupted from 

wi, or and, thirty thousand merks : cf. K, 23*. 

C. "Tune, Gipsy Laddy," 1-12. 

13. " Tune changes to Haud awa fra me, Do- 
nald." 

14, 16, 18 are written as a burden to the stan- 
zas preceding them. 

7". weepin originally written for watery, and 
erased. 

18^^. as bold I 'U roar : more written over roar. 

D. After 7 : Answer to Rob Roy. 8-15 are writ- 

ten in four stanzas of long lines. 
9*. Rob struck out before Roy's. 
B. "The first part [1-7] is sung to the air of 

Bonny House of Airly, and the last, Haud 

awa frae me, Donald." 
7*. was laid behind, : behind wrongly for 

by him. Cf A 9*, etc. 
9*. succeed the fame. So 1 10 nearly ; P 8 

did exceed the fame. This line evidently 

troubled reciters. Another set, says Pit- 



I. 12* 



cairn, gives, It did exceed the same. B 11, 
C 15, K 19 have a reading which we may 
take to be near the original. 

1*. To keep (haud). 

In stanzas of eight lines. " Tune, a rude set 
of Mill, Mill 0." After 4 : » The song went 
on to narrate the forcing her to bed ; when 
the tune changes to something like Jenny 
dang the weaver." 

As a variation, hut wrongly (see 13*), Did 
feel his good claymore, lady. 
J. "I had the first copy from Miss Harper, Kil- 
drummy ; but fearing imperfections, I made 
application, and by chance got another copy 
from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket. These 
I blended together and formed a very good 
copy; but I have taken the liberty of alter- 
ing the order of some of the stanzas, and in 
particular, taking out the ninth and making 
it the eleventh, and changing some of the 
words to make it more agreeable." p. 97. 
Original readings in 2^, specified by Laing, 
have been restored, and his 11 put hack to 
9. What follows 16 has the title, Varia- 
tion. 



X 



CA3, 
v.4:|