The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. | Part VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
VII. Part VII.
189
HOBIE NOBLE
HOBIE NOBLE
2
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 pulld 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 feiries five!And aye, what is your wills 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 grund,
And I'll be a guide worth ony twa
That may in Liddisdale be fund.
12
‘Tho dark the night as pick and tar,I'll guide ye oer yon hills fu hie,
And bring ye a' in safety back,
If you'll 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 lighted 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.’
3
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-burn,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 will on to Conscowthart Green,
For there, I think, w'll 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 feiries five —For I wat here makes a fu 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 sair
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 forfoughen 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 little his desire.
30
Then they gave him a wheat loaf to eatAnd 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'll 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'll 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.’
4
190
JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD
JAMIE TELFER OF THE FAIR DODHEAD
5
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.
6
3
‘What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?’‘Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;
But gin ye'll gae to the Fair Dodhead,
Mony a cow's cauf I'll 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.
5
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 frae 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'll neer pay mail to Elliot again,
And the Fair Dodhead I'll 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 DodheadBut 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.’
7
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, braid 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 winna 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 sall 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 aff 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'll neer see Tiviot side again,
Or Willie's death revenged sall 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 mae 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
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 frae 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.
191
HUGHIE GRAME
10
The Life and Death of Sir Hugh of the Grime
HUGHIE GRAME—A
[_]
a. Roxburghe Ballads, II, 294. b. Douce Ballads, II, 204 b. c. Rawlinson Ballads, 566, fol. 9. All printed for P. Brooksby: 1672-95(?). d. Pills to purge Melancholy, VI, 289, 17. e. Roxburghe 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'l 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.
11
9
Sir Hugh of the Grime now taken isAnd 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, my 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 bound 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.’
Hughie Graham
HUGHIE GRAME—B
[_]
Johnson's Museum, No 303, p. 312, contributed by Burns; Cromek, Reliques of Robert Burns, 4th ed., 1817, p. 287; Cromek, 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 loun!
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
4
Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,As he sat by the bishop's knee:
‘Five hundred white stots I'll gie you,
If ye'll let Hughie Graham gae free.’
5
‘O haud 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'll gee you,
If ye'll gie Hughie Graham to me.’
7
‘O haud 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
‘O haud 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 JohnMy sword that's bent in the middle clear,
And let him cone at twelve o'clock,
And see my pay the bishop's mare.
12
‘And ye may gie my brother JamesMy 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 kinI never did disgrace their blood,
And when they meet the bishop's cloak,
To mak it shorter by the hood.’
Hughie the Græme
HUGHIE GRAME—C
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 87, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. “From Robert Laidlaw.”
1
Gude Lord Scroop's to the huntin gane;He's ridden oer monie a moss an muir,
An he has grippit Hughie the Græme,
For stealin o the bishop's mare.
2
An they hae grippit Hughie the Græme,An brought him up thro Carlisle town;
The lasses an lads they stood by the wa's,
Cryin, Hughie the Græme, thou's no gae down!
3
They ha chosen a jury o men,The best that were i Coventry,
An fifteen o them out a' at anse,
‘Hughie the Græme, thou art guiltie.’
4
Than up bespak him gude Lord Hume,As he sat at the judge's knee;
‘Twentie white ousen, my gude lord,
If ye'll grant Hughie the Græme to me.’
5
‘O no, no, no, my gude Lord Hume,For sooth an so it mauna be;
For war there but twae Græms o the name,
They sould be hangit a' for me.’
6
'Twas up than spak her gude Lady Hume,As she sat by the judge's knee;
‘A peck o white pennies, my gude lord,
If ye'll grant Hughie the Greame to me.’
7
‘O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,For sooth an so it sal na be;
For war there but twae Greames of the name,
They soud be hangit a' for me.’
8
‘If I be guilty,’ said Hughie the Graeme,‘Of me my friends sal hae nae lack;’
An he has luppen fifteen feet an three,
An his hands they war tyed ahint his back.
9
He's lookit oer his left shouther,To see what he coud see,
An there he saw his auld father commin,
An he was weepin bitterlie.
10
‘O had yer tongue, my father,’ he says,‘An see that ye dinna weep for me,
For they may ravish me o my life,
But they canna banish me thrae the heavens hie.
11
‘Fare ye weel, Maggie, my wife;The last time I came oer the muir,
It was you berievt me o my life,
An wi the bishop playd the w[hore].’
13
Sir Hugh in the Grime's Downfall
HUGHIE GRAME—D
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 thenAnd carried to Carlisle town;
The merry women came out amain,
Saying, The name of Grime shall never go down!
3
O 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'll give to my lord,
If he'll grant Hugh Grime to me.
7
‘And if it be not full enough,I'll stroke it up with my silver fan;
And if it be not full enough,
I'll 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'll give to my lord,
If he'll 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
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'll leave my sword to Johnny ArmstrongThat is made of mettal so fine,
That when he comes to the border-side
He may think of Hugh in the Grime.’
Sir Hugh the Græme
HUGHIE GRAME—E
1
Lord Home he is a hunting gane,Through the woods and valleys clear,
And he has taen Sir Hugh the Græme,
For stealing o the bishop's mare.
2
They hae taen Sir Hugh the Græme,Led him down thro Strieveling town;
Fifeteen o them cried a' at ance,
‘Sir Hugh the Græme 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 Græme 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'll gie,
If Hugh the Græme set free to me.’
5
‘Hold your tongue, ye Lady Black,And ye'll 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'll gie,
If ye'll gie Hugh the Græme to me.’
7
‘O hold your tongue, ye Lady Bruce,And ye'll let a' your pleadings be!
Though a' the Græmes 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'll let a' your mourning be!
Though they bereave me o my life,
They canno had the heavens frae me.
10
‘Ye'll gie my brother John the swordThat'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 swordThat'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 swordThat's pointed wi the metal fine;
Come up the morn at eight o'clock,
And see the death o Hugh the Græme.
13
‘Ye'll 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,
15
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;
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.
HUGHIE GRAME—F
[_]
Macmath MS., p. 79. “Received by me 20th August and 7th September, 1887, from my aunt, Miss Jane Webster, who derived it from her mother, Janet Spark, Kirkcudbrightshire.”
1
‘Ye may tell to my wife Maggie,When that she comes to the fair,
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.’
Hughie Grame
HUGHIE GRAME—G
Dukes an lords a huntin gane,Over hills an vallies clear;
There the've bound him Hughie Grame,
For stealin o the bishop's mare.
HUGHIE GRAME—H
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 4, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.
1
Lairds and lords a hounting gane,Out-over hills and valleys clear,
And there they met Hughie Grame,
Was riding on the bishop's mare.
2
And they have tied him hand and foot,And they have carried him to Stirling town;
The lads and lasses there about
Crys, Hughie Grame, you are a lown!
3
‘If I be a lown,’ says he,‘I am sure my friends has had bad luck;’
We that he jumpted fifteen foot,
With his hands tied behind his back.
4
Out and spoke Laidy Whiteford,As she sat by the bishop's knee;
‘Four-and-twenty milk-kie I'll give to thee,
If Hughie Grame you will let free.’
5
‘Hold your tongue, my laidy Whiteford,And of your pleading now lay by;
If fifty Grames were in his coat,
Upon my honour he shall die.’
6
Out and spoke Lord Whiteford,As he sat by the bishop's knee;
‘Four-and-twenty stots I'll give thee,
If Hughie Grame you will let free.’
7
‘Hold your tongue, my lord Whiteford,And of your pleading now lay by;
If twenty Grames were in his coat,
Upon my honour he shall die.’
8
‘You may tell to Meg, my wife,The first time she comes through the mu[ir],
She was the causer of my death,
For with the bishop [she] plaid the whore.
9
‘You may tell to Meg, my wife,The first time she comes through the town,
She was the causer of my death,
For with the bishop [she] plaid the lown.’
10
He looked oer his left shoulder,To see what he could spy or see,
And there he spied his old father,
Was weeping bitterly.
11
‘Hold your tongue, my dear father,And of your weeping now lay by;
They may rub me of my sweet life,
But not from me the heavence high.
12
‘You may give my brother JohnThe sword that's of the mettle clear,
That he may come the morn at four o clock
To see me pay the bishop's mare.
13
‘You may give my brother JamesThe sword that's of the mettle brown;
Tell him to come the morn at four o clock
To see his brother Hugh cut down.’
14
Up and spoke his oldest son,As he sat by his nurse's knee;
‘If ere I come to be a man,
Revenged for my father['s] death I'll be.’
HUGHIE GRAME—I
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 36, Abbotsford, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813-15, p. 9; “from a young girl, a Miss Nancy Brockie, Bemerside, who learned it from an old woman called Maron Miller, Threepwood.” Another copy, in Wilkie's hand, No 86 of the same.
1
Ye dukes and lords that hunt and goOut-over moors and mountains clear,
And they have taen up poor Hughie Græme,
For stealing of the bishope's mare.
Fall all the day, fall all the daudy,
Fall all the day, fall the daudy O.
2
They hae tied him hand and foot,They hae led him thro the town;
The lads and lassies they all met,
Cried, Hughie Græme, ye've playd the loon!
3
‘O if that I had playd the loon,My friends of me they hae bad luck;’
With that he jumped fifteen feet,
Wi his hands tied fast behind his back.
4
Up then spoke my lady Whiteford,As she sat by the bishope's knee;
‘Five hundred white pence I'll give thee,
If you let Hughie Græme go free.’
5
‘I'll hae nane of your hundred pense,And your presents you may lay by;
For if Græme was ten times in his coat,
By my honour, Hugh shall die.’
6
Up then spoke my lord Whiteford,As he sat by the bishope's knee;
‘Five score of good stotts I'll thee give,
If you'll sett Hughie Græme but free.’
7
‘I'll have none of your hundred stotts,And all your presents you may keep to yoursell;
‘For if Græme was ten times in his coat
Hugh shall die, and die he shall.’
8
Then they hae tied him hand and foot,And they hae led [him] to the gallows high;
The lads and lassies they all met,
Cried, Hughie Græme, thou art to die!
9
Now's he looked oer his left shoulder,All for to see what he could spy,
And there he saw his father dear,
Stood weeping there most bitterlie.
10
‘O hold your tongue now, father,’ he said,‘And of your weeping lai'd now by;
For they can rob me of my life,
But they cannot rob me of the heavens high.
11
‘But you must give to my brother JohnThe sword that's bent in the middle clear,
And tell him to come at twelve o clock
And see me pay the bishope's mare.
12
‘And you may give to my brother JamesThe sword that's bent in the middle brown,
And tell him to come at four o clock
And see his brother Hugh cut down.
13
‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife,The first time she comes thro the town,
She was the occasion of my death
And wi the bishope playd the loon.
14
‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife,The first time she comes thro the fair,
She was the occasion of my death,
And from the bishope stole the mare.’
16
192
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER
The Blind Harper of Lochmaben; or, The Blind Harper; or, The Lochmaben Harper
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER—A
[_]
a. Glenriddell MS. XI, 42, 1791; “from a MS. collection of Mr Henderson.” b. Johnson's Museum, No 579, VI, 598, 1803, communicated by Burns. c. Scott's Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 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.
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'll 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;’
‘O, 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,
18
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 still 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'll wad my hail fee against a groat,
It's bigger than eer our foal will be.’
18
The neighbours too that heard the noiseCried 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 mare.’
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.’
Lochmaben Harper
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER—B
1
Hard 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 shoulderAnd called to his stable-groom:
‘Gae stable up the harper's mare,
And just beyond the Wanton Brown.’
19
5
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,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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 gray 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'll wager my life against a groat
The foal was better than ever the mare.’
The Auld Harper
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER—C
[_]
The Edinburgh Topographical, Traditional, and Antiquarian 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 harperThat 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'll ride the mear to England fair,
But the foal ye'll leave at hame wi me.
3
‘Ye'll hide your halter in o your hose,And o your purpose ye'll no fail;
Ye'll cast a hook on the Wanton's nose,
And tie him to the gray mear's tail.
4
‘Ye'll lead them awa by a back yett,And hound them out at a wee hole;
The mear she'll 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 merrilie,
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
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 fu 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 a-dreaming 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 haud your tongue,” King Henry did say,‘Ye'll hae nae cause to curse or swear;
Here's thirty guineas for your foal,
And three times thirty for your mear.’
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER—D
[_]
Taken down by the Rev George Murray from the singing of Sarah Rae, 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 O 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 your 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.
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 O 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.
The Jolly Harper
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER—E
[_]
Buchan's MSS, I, 35; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions 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'll gang to yon outer court,That stands a little below the toun;
Ye'll 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 cordUnto his grey mare's bridle-rein,
And tied it unto that steed's tail,
Syne shut the stable-door behin.
8
Then he harped on, an he carped on,Till all were fast asleep;
22
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'll do you down thro mire an moss,Thro mony bog an lairy hole;
But never miss your Wanton slack;
Ye'll 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 sleepHe to the harper-man did say,
O 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'll 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,
I 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'll see.
25
‘My music pleasd the king sae wellMair 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.
24
193
THE DEATH OF PARCY REED
25
A song of Parcy Reed and the Three False Halls
THE DEATH OF PARCY REED—A
[_]
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'll gar the house of the Troughend fa.
3
So as it happened on a dayThat 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.
5
O some they stole his powder-horn,And some put water in his lang gun:
‘O waken, waken, Parcy Reed!
For we do doubt thou sleeps too sound.
6
‘O waken, O 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 be 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, O Parcy Reed,
That they will slay both us and thee.’
9
‘O stay, O stay, O Tommy Hall,O stay, O man, and fight with me!
If we see the Troughend again,
My good black mare I will give thee.’
10
‘I will not stay, nor I dare not stay,O Parcy Reed, to fight for thee;
For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed,
That they will slay both me and thee.’
26
11
‘O stay, O stay, O Johnnie Hall,O stay, O man, and fight for me!
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, O Parcy Reed,
That they will slay both me and thee.’
13
‘O stay, O stay, O Willie Hall,O stay, O 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.’
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!O 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,
I surely had been man alive.
18
‘Farewell all friends! as for my foes,To distant lands may they be tane,
And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield,
They'll never be trusted nor trowed again.’
The Death of Parcy Reed
THE DEATH OF PARCY REED—B
[_]
Letters addressed to Sir Walter Scott, XIII, No 73, Abbotsford. “Parcy Reed, exactly as it is sung by an old woman of the name of Cathrine Hall, living at Fairloans, in the remotest corner of Oxnam parish:” James Telfer, Browndeanlaws, May 18, 1824.
1
O Parcy Reed has Crozer taen,And has deliverd him to the law;
But Crozer says he'll do warse than that,
For he'll gar the tower of the Troughend fa.
2
And Crozer says he will do warse,He will do warse, if warse can be;
For he'll make the bairns a' fatherless,
And then the land it may lie lea.
3
O Parcy Reed has ridden a raid,But he had better have staid at hame;
For the three fause Ha's of Girsenfield
Alang with him he has them taen.
4
He's hunted up, and he's hunted down,He's hunted a' the water of Reed,
Till wearydness has on him taen,
I the Baitinghope he's faen asleep.
5
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
And the fause, fause Ha's o Girsenfield,
They'll never be trowed nor trusted again.
6
They've taen frae him his powther-bag,And they've put water i his lang gun;
They've put the sword into the sheathe
That out again it'll never come.
7
‘Awaken ye, awaken ye, Parcy Reed,For I do fear ye've slept owre lang;
For yonder are the five Crozers,
A coming owre by the hinging-stane.’
8
‘If they be five and we be four,If that ye will stand true to me,
If every man ye will take one,
Ye surely will leave two to me.
9
‘O turn, O turn, O Johny Ha,O turn now, man, and fight wi me;
If ever ye come to Troughend again,
A good black nag I will gie to thee;
He cost me twenty pounds o gowd
Atween my brother John and me.’
10
‘I winna turn, I canna turn;I darena turn and fight wi thee;
For they will find out Parcy Reed,
And then they'll kill baith thee and me.’
11
‘O turn, O turn now, Willie Ha,O turn, O man, and fight wi me,
And if ever ye come to the Troughend again
A yoke of owsen I will gie thee.’
12
‘I winna turn, I canna turn;I darena turn and fight wi thee;
For they will find out Parcy Reed,
And they will kill baith thee and me.’
13
‘O turn, O turn, O Thommy Ha,O turn now, man, and fight wi me;
If ever ye come to the Troughend again,
My daughter Jean I'll gie to thee.’
14
‘I winna turn, I darena turn;I winna turn and fight with thee;
For they will find out Parcy Reed,
And then they'll kill baith thee and me.’
15
‘O woe be to ye, traitors a'!I wish England ye may never win;
Ye've left me in the field to stand,
And in my hand an uncharged gun.
16
‘Ye've taen frae me my powther-bag,And ye've put water i my lang gun;
Ye've put the sword into the sheath
That out again it'll never come.
17
‘O fare ye weel, my married wife!And fare ye weel, my brother John!
That sits into the Troughend ha
With heart as black as any stone.
18
‘O fare ye weel, my married wife!And fare ye weel now, my sons five!
For had ye been wi me this day
I surely had been man alive.
19
‘O fare ye weel, my married wife!And fare ye weel now, my sons five!
And fare ye weel, my daughter Jean!
I loved ye best ye were born alive.
20
‘O some do ca me Parcy Reed,And some do ca me Laird Troughend,
But it's nae matter what they ca me,
My faes have made me ill to ken.
21
‘The laird o Clennel wears my bow,The laird o Brandon wears my brand;
Whae ever rides i the Border side
Will mind the laird o the Troughend.’
28
194
THE LAIRD OF WARISTON
31
The Laird of Waristoun
THE LAIRD OF WARISTON—A
[_]
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 109, as taken down by Sir Walter Scott from the recitation of his mother.
1
Down by yon garden greenSae 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 chamberA 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'll 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.’
Laird of Wariestoun
THE LAIRD OF WARISTON—B
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 wayHer 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
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.’
Death of Lord Warriston
THE LAIRD OF WARISTON—C
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.
5
‘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'll 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'll be revenged
For these harsh words he's said to me.
10
She's counselld wi her father's stewardWhat 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
‘O 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 fause 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:
33
O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.’
16
‘O borrow me, brother, borrow me?O borrowd shall I never be;
For I gart kill my ain gude lord,
And life is nae pleasure to me.’
17
In it came her mother dear,I 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?O 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,I 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'll 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 aff this dowie head o mine.
25
‘Ye'll take me out at night, at night,When there are nane to gaze and see,
And hae me to yon heading-hill,
And ye'll 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.’
34
195
LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT
36
Lord Maxwell's Last Goodnight
LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT—A
1
‘Good lord of the land, will you stay thaneAbout my faither's house,
And walk into these gardines green,
In my arms I'll the embraice.
2
‘Ten thousand times I'll 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.
5
‘Adue, Dumfriese, that proper place!Fair well, Carlaurike faire!
37
And all my buldings there!
6
‘Adue, Lochmaben gaits so faire,And the Langhm 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 frends do duell!
The bangisters will beat them doun,
And will them sore compell.
8
‘I'll 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! fals was ay,And Closburn! in a band;
The laird of the Lag from my faither fled
When the Jhohnstones struek 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[s] two!
Fair well, Robin in the Orchet!
Fore the my heart is wo.
12
‘Adue, the lillie, 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,Where at hang sygnets three:
‘Take thou that, my own kind thing,
And ay have mind of me.
14
‘Do not mary another lordAgan 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 frends 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.
Lord Maxwell's Goodnight
LORD MAXWELL'S LAST GOODNIGHT—B
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 oftOf 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!
38
And, trust me, I maunna stay with 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'll revenge that feed mysellWhen 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 thenUnto my father's place,
And walk into their gardens green,
And I will you embrace.
12
‘Ten thousand times I'll 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 off 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 lordEre 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.
39
196
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT
44
The Fire of Frendraught; or, Burning of Frendraught
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT—A
[_]
a. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 161, from a MS. of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. b. Maidment's North Countrie Garland, 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;
'Twill be a token of good greement
'Twixt your good lord and mine.’
4
‘We'll 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.
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
‘O waken, waken, Rothiemay!O waken, brother dear!
And turn you to our Saviour;
There is strong treason here.’
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'll 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:
14
‘O loup, O loup, my dear master!O loup and come to me!
I'll catch you in my arms two,
One foot I will not flee.
15
‘O loup, O loup, my dear master!O loup and come away!
I'll catch you in my arms two,
But Rothiemay may lie.’
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,O 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.
The Burning of Frendraught
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT—B
[OMITTED]1
‘Ye'll stay this night wi me, Lord John,Ye'll 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.
4
‘I'll gie you a Strathboggie lands,And the laigh lands o Strathray,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
5
‘Ye'll stay this night wi me, Lord John,Ye'll stay this night wi me,
And I'll lay you in a bed of down,
And Rothiemay you wi.’
6
When mass was sung, and bells were rung,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
8
The doors were shut, the keys were thrownInto a vault of stone,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
9
He is dune him to the weir-window,The stauncheons were oer strong;
There he saw him Lord George Gordon
Come haisling to the town.
10
‘What news, what news now, George Gordon?Whats news hae you to me?
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
11
He's dune him to the weir-window,The stauncheons were oer strang;
And there he saw the Lady Frendraught,
Was walking on the green.
12
‘Open yer doors now, Lady Frendraught,Ye'll open yer doors to me;
And bonny's be the mornin-gift
That I shall to you gie.
13
‘I'll gie you a' Straboggie lands,And the laigh lands o Strathbrae,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
14
‘Now there's the rings frae my fingers,And the broach frae my breast-bone;
Ye'll gae that to my gude ladye
[OMITTED]
15
‘How can I loup, or how shall I loup?How can I loup to thee?
When the blood is boiling in my body,
And my feet burnin frae me?’
16
‘If I was swift as any swallow,And then had wings to fly,
I could fly on to fause Frendraught
And cry vengeance till I die.’
The Fire of Frendraught
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT—C
[_]
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 Frendraught,
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'll 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'll 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.
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 Irving was a bonny boy,And leapt the stanks so deep:
‘Come down, come down, my master dear!
In my arms I'll 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'll 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'll gie that to my lady dear,
From me she'll 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'll sleep by her side.’
18
Ladie Rothiemay came on the morn,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 killd my own good lord,
And now you've burnd my son.
22
‘I caredna sae muckle for my good lordI saw him in battle slain,
But a' is for my own son dear,
The heir o a' my lan.
23
‘I caredna sae muckle for my good lordI saw him laid in clay,
But a' is for my own son dear,
The heir o Rothiemay.’
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT—D
[_]
Ritson's Scotish Songs, 1794, II, 35; remembered by the Rev. 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'll catch you in my arms twa,
And never a foot from you I'll flee.’
5
‘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
THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT—E
Now wake, now wake you, Rothiemay!I dread you sleep oer soun;
The bed is burnin us about
And the curtain's faain down.
49
197
JAMES GRANT
JAMES GRANT
[_]
Motherwelll's MS., p. 470, communicated apparently by Buchan; ‘The Gordons and the Grants,’ Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 220.
50
1
‘Away with you, away with you, James de Grant!And, Douglas, ye'll be slain;
For Baddindalloch's at your gates,
With many brave Highland men.’
2
‘Baddindalloch has no feud at me,And I have none at him;
Cast up my gates baith broad and wide,
Let Baddindalloch in.’
3
‘James de Grant has made a vaunt,And leaped the castle-wa;
But, if he comes this way again,
He'll no win sae well awa.
4
‘Take him, take him, brave Gordons,O take him, fine fellows a'!
If he wins but ae mile to the Highland hills,
He'll defy you Gordons a'.’
51
198
BONNY JOHN SETON
52
Bonny John Seton
BONNY JOHN SETON—A
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 Pitmeddin,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 MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee,
His name was Colonel Henderson
That let the cannons flee.
7
His name was Major MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee,
And his name was Colonel Henderson
That dung Pitmeddin 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 lan
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, likewise his shield;
Yea, they have left him naked there,
Upon the open field.
13
The Highland men, they're clever menAt handling sword and shield,
But yet they are too naked men
To stay in battle field.
14
The Highland men are clever menAt 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 nightIs like thunder in the air;
There's not a man in Highland dress
Can face the cannon's fire.
53
The Death of John Seton
BONNY JOHN SETON—B
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 MiddletonThat 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.
5
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 swelldThe rings would not come aff;
They cutted the grips out o his ears,
Took out the gowd signots.
14
Then they rade on, and further on,Till 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'll even laet it be.’
16
Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose,‘Your purpose I will break;
We winna burn the bonny burgh,
We'll never build its make.
17
‘I see the women and their childrenClimbing the craigs sae hie;
We'll sleep this night in the bonny burgh,
And even lat it be.’
54
199
THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE
56
The Bonnie House o Airly; or, The Bonny House of Airly; or, The Bonny House of Airly; or, The Bonny House o Airly
THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE—A
[_]
a. Sharpe's 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 stallcopy. e, f. Aberdeen stall copies, “printed for the booksellers.” 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 harnessd rarely,
And he's awa by the back of Dunkell,
To plunder the castle of Airlie.
3
Lady Ogilvie 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 O 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 born unto him,The eleventh neer saw his daddy;
But though I had an hundred mair,
I'd gie them a' to King Charlie.’
THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE—B
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.
57
7
‘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.’
The Bonny House of Airley; or, Young Airly; or, The Bonny House o Airlie; or, The Bonny House o Airlie
THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE—C
[_]
a. Kinloch MSS, V, 205, recited by John Rae. b. Cromek'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'll neither come down nor kiss you,’ she says,
‘Tho you should na leave a standing stane in Airley.’
5
‘I ask but one favour of you, Argyle,And I hope you'll grant me fairly
To tak me to some dark dowey glen,
That I may na see the plundering of Airley.’
6
He has taen her by the left shoulder,And O 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 Airley.
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 Charlie.’
THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE—D
[_]
Kinloch MSS, V, 106, in the handwriting of James Beattie, and from the recitation of Elizabeth Beattie.
1
O gleyd Argyll has written to MontroseTo see gin the fields they were fairly,
And to see whether he should stay at hame,
'Or come to plunder bonnie Airly.
2
Then great Montrose has written to ArgyllAnd 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
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'll tak me by the milk-white hand,And ye'll lift me up sae rarely,
And ye'll throw me outoure my [ain] castlewa,
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
‘O 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.’
61
200
THE GYPSY LADDIE
65
Johny Faa, the Gypsy Laddie
THE GYPSY LADDIE—A
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 all her maids before her;
As soon as they saw her well-far'd face,
They coost the glamer oer her.
3
‘Gae tak frae me this gay mantile,And bring to me a plaidie;
For if kith and kin and a' had sworn,
I'll follow the gypsie laddie.
4
‘Yestreen I lay in a well-made bed,And my good lord beside me;
This night I'll ly in a tenant's barn,
Whatever shall betide me.’
5
‘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'll go to bed to my Johny Faa,I'll 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'll mak a hap to my Johnny Faa,And I'll 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,
66
‘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'll 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.
THE GYPSY LADDIE—B
[_]
a. The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, being a new series of the Scots Magazine (vol. lxxx of the entire work), November, 1817, p. 309, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, as taken down from the recitation 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 owre 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 off her finger.
4
‘Will ye go with me, my hinny and my heart?Will 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 glowring 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
‘Aften 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
‘O wilt thou go home, my hinny and my heart,O wilt thou go home, my dearie?
67
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.
Davie Faw; or, Gypsie Davy
THE GYPSY LADDIE—C
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 aff 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 tenant'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'll 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'll 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
The Egyptian Laddy
THE GYPSY LADDIE—D
[_]
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'll take frae me this gay mantle,And ye'll 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.
5
When they came to a wan water,I wite it wasna bonny,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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 aff wi the Gyptian laddy.’
13
‘Ye'll 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.’
The Gypsie Laddie
THE GYPSY LADDIE—E
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 glaumry owre 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.
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 lain 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 wild hie mountain,
Until that he heard his ain lady say,
‘Now my lord will be hame frae the hounting.’
15
‘Than will you come hame, my hinnie and my love?’Quoth he to his charming dearie,
‘And I'll 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 clearie,
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'll tak ye hame, and the gypsies I'll hang,Ay, I'll make them girn in a wuddie,
And afterwards I'll 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!
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 burnside,
To beek themsells there sae sunnie.
70
Johnny Faa, the Gypsey Laddie
THE GYPSY LADDIE—F
[_]
The Songs of England and Scotland [by P. Cunningham], 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 O 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.
3
‘O come wi me,’ says Johnnie Faw,‘O 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'll follow the gypsie laddie.
5
‘Yestreen I lay in a weel-made bed,And my gude lord beside me;
This night I'll lie in a tenant's barn,
Whatever shall betide me.
6
‘Last night I lay in a weel-made bed,Wi silken hangings round me;
But now I'll lie in a farmer's barn,
Wi the gypsies all around me.
7
‘The first ale-house that we come at,We'll hae a pot o brandie;
The next ale-house that we came at,
We'll 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.
The Gypsie Loddy
THE GYPSY LADDIE—G
[_]
a. A broadside in the Roxburghe Ballads, III, 685, entered in the catalogue, doubtfully, as 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,They were brisk and bonny; O
They rode till they came to the Earl of Castle'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,
'T was the ring from off her finger.
4
She pulld off her high-heeld shoes,They was made of Spanish leather;
She put on her highland brog[u]es,
To follow the gypsey loddy.
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.
The Gipsy Laddie
THE GYPSY LADDIE—H
[_]
Shropshire Lolk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, p. 550, as sung May 23, 1885, by gypsy children.
1
There came a gang o gipsies by,And they was singing so merry, O
Till they gained the heart o my lady gay,
[OMITTED]
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
‘O 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
‘Didn't I leave you houses and land?And didn't I leave you money?
Didn'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?’
[OMITTED]
7
‘The tother night you was on a feather bed,Now you're on a straw one,’
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
THE GYPSY LADDIE—I
1
There come seven gypsies on a day,Oh, but they sang bonny! O
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
‘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 will you come home, my honey?
And, by the point of my broad sword,
A hand I'll neer lay on you.’
6
‘Last night I lay on a good feather-bed,And my own wedded lord beside me,
And tonight I'll 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.’
The Gipsey Davy
THE GYPSY LADDIE—J
[_]
a. Written down by Newton Pepoun, as learned from a boy with whom he went to school in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, about 1845. b. From the singing of Mrs Farmer, born 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 servantman,
‘She's gone with the gipsey Davy.’
3
‘Go saddle me my best black mare;The grey is neer so speedy;
For I'll ride all night, and I'll 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'll forsake my house and home,Yes, I'll 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.
Lord Garrick
THE GYPSY LADDIE—K
[_]
a. From Mrs Helena Titus Brown of New York. b. From Miss Emma A. Clinch of New York. Derived, 1820, or a little later, a directly, b indirectly, from the singing of Miss Phœbe 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'll take off my low-heeled shoes,
And away we'll go together.’
Lumpy dumpy linky dinky day
Lumpy dumpy linky dinky daddy
73
2
They brought her down her high-heeled shoes,Made of the Spanish leather,
And she took off 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'll go to the Misty Mount,
And overtake my lady.’
5
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.’
THE GYPSY LADDIE—L
[_]
Communicated to the Journal of The Gypsy Society, II, 85, by Mr John Sampson, from the dictation of Lias Robinson, a Gypsy. A translation into Gypsy, by Robinson and his brothers, is given at p. 84 of the same.
1
A band of gypsies, all in a road,All so black and brawny, oh
Away come a lady all dressed in silk,
To follow the roving gypsies. oh
The gypsies, oh!
The gypsies, oh!
To follow the roving gypsies, oh!
2
Her husband came home at ten o'clock of night,And asked for his lady fair;
The servant informed him very soon
She had gone with the roving gypsies.
3
‘Saddle to me my bonny gray mare,Saddle to me my pony;
I will go where the green grass grow,
To find out the roving gypsies.
4
‘Last night she slept in a fair feather-bed,And blankets by bonins;
Tonight she sleeps in a cold shed-barn,
Through following the roving gypsies.
5
‘Why did you leave your houses and your lands?Why did you leave your babies?
Why did you leave your decent married man,
To follow the roving gypsies?’
6
‘What cares I for my houses and my lands?What cares I for my babies?
What cares I for my decent married man?
I will go with the roving gypsies.’
75
201
BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY
BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY
[_]
a. Sharpe's Ballad Book, 1823, p. 62. b. Lyle's Ancient Ballads and Songs, 1827, p. 160, “collated from the singing of two aged persons, one of them a native of Perthshire.” c. Scott's Minstrelsy, 1833, I, 45, two stanzas.
76
1
O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray,They war twa bonnie lasses;
They bigget a bower on yon burn-brae,
And theekit it oer wi rashes.
77
2
They theekit 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,Amang their noble kin;
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.
202
THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH
THE BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH
[_]
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 153, 1803, II, 166, 1833. “preserved by tradition in Selkirkshire.”
78
1
On Philiphaugh a fray began,At Hairheadwood it ended;
The Scots outoer the Græmes 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 burn,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 menEncamped on yon lee;
Ye'll 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'll think the day's their ain,
And frae the trench they'll come.
79
13
‘Then, those that are behind them maunGie 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;
‘O 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'll hang thee on a tree.’
17
‘Sir, I will not a traitor prove;Montrose has plunderd me;
I'll 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.
203
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY
84
The Baronne of Braikley; or, The Baron of Braikley; or, The Barrone of Brackley
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY—A
[_]
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 fu 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 castellwa:‘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'll 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 ky.
8
‘Ther spulyie like rievers o wyld kettrin clan,Who plunder unsparing baith houses and lan.
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 haud your tongue, Peggy, and mak nae sic din,For yon same hir'd widifus will prove themselves men.’
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'll ficht them, and shortly the cowards will fly.
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 four-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'll see me gae furth, but I'll never cum in.
21
‘Call mi brother William, mi unkl also,Mi cousin James Gordon; we'll mount and we'll 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
[OMITTED]‘Turn bak, brother William, ye are a bridegroom;
25
‘Wi bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o the mill;O sichin and sobbin she'll soon get her fill.’
26
‘I'm no coward, brother, 'tis kend I'm a man;I'll ficht i your quarral as lang's I can stand.
27
‘I'll ficht, my dear brother, wi heart and gude will,And so will young Harry that lives at the mill.
85
28
‘But turn, mi dear brother, and nae langer stay:What'll cum o your ladie, gin Braikley thei slay?
29
‘What'll cum o your ladie and bonnie young son?O what'll 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'll burn.’
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’.
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!
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 baronne.’
41
Up spake the son on the nourice's knee,‘Gin I live to be a man, revenged I'll be.’
42
Ther's dool i the kitchin, and mirth i the ha,The Baronne o Braikley is dead and awa.
The Baron of Brackley
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY—B
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 curn hir'd widdifus, wears belted plaids.’
4
She called on her women and bade them come in:‘Tack a' yer rocks, lasses, and we'll them coman.
5
‘We'll fecht them, we'll slight them, we'll do what we can,And I vow we will shoot them altho we shod bang.
6
‘Rise up, John,’ she said, ‘and turn in yer kye,For they'll hae them to the Hielands, and you they'l defie.’
7
‘Had your still, Catharine, and still yer young son,For ye'll get me out, but I'll 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'll cum kiss me, my Peggy, and bring me my gun,For I'm gaing out, but I'll never cum in.’
86
10
There was twenty wi Invery, twenty and ten;There was nane wi the baron but his brother and him.
11
At the head of Reneeten the battle began;Ere they wan Auchoilzie, 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 baron, 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[r]ackley is dead and awa.
The Baron of Braikly; or, The Baron of Brackley
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY—C
[_]
a. Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. viii, as transcribed for Jamieson by Rev. Andrew Brown, and sent him by Mrs Brown in a letter of June 18, 1801. b. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 102; Mrs. Brown's copy combined with an imperfect one taken down by Sir W. Scott “from the recitation of two ladies, great-grandchildren of Farquharson of Inverey.”
1
O Inverey came down Dee side, whistling and playing;He's landed at Braikly's yates at the day dawing.
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
‘O rise up, John,’ she says, ‘turn back your kye;They're oer the hills rinning, they're skipping away.’
5
‘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'll 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'll 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'll never win in.’
10
When the Baron of Braikly rade through the close,A gallanter baron neer mounted a horse.
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 surround,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 Inverey.
15
‘O came ye by Braikly, and was ye in there?Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?’
16
‘O I came by Braikly, and I was in there,But I saw not his Peggy dear riving her hair.’
17
‘O 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'll 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.
The Baron of Breachell
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY—D
1
‘Baron o Breachell, are ye within?The sharp souerd is at yer gate, Breachell, we'll 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
‘O 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[OMITTED]
5
‘O kiss me, dear Peggy, and gee me down my gun,I may well ga out, but I'll never come in.’
6
Out spak his brither, says, Gee me yer hand;I'll 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
[OMITTED]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 his 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
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 inTo her house an bours 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 [OMITTED]
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.
90
204
JAMIE DOUGLAS
93
Lord Douglas; or, The Laird of Blackwood
JAMIE DOUGLAS—A
[_]
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 renownAs lived in the north countrie;
I was a lady of high renown
Whan Earl Douglas loved me.
2
Whan we came through Glasgow toun,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.
94
4
Whan that my auld son was born,And set upon the nurse's knee,
I was as happy a woman as eer was born,
And my gude lord he loved me.
5
But oh, an my young son was born,And set upon the nurse's knee,
And I mysel war dead and gane,
For a maid again I'll never be!
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 bed 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
O 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
‘O fare thee well, my once lovely maid!O fare thee well, once dear to me!
O fare thee well, my once lovely maid!
For wi me again ye sall never be.’
11
‘Sit doun, sit doun, Jamie Douglas,Sit thee doun and dine wi me,
And Ill 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'll 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 wordThat 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,
I 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.’
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—B
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 Blacklaywood 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'll part me and my ain good lord,
And his face again I'll never see.
5
‘Come down stairs now, Jamie Douglas,Come down stairs and drink wine wi me;
I'll set thee into a chair of gold,
And not one farthing shall it cost thee.’
6
‘When cockle-shells turn silver bells,And muscles grow on every tree,
When frost and snaw turn fiery baas,
I'll come down the stair and drink wine wi thee.’
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'll be;
He'll 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!
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
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
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 frae 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.
Lady Douglas and Blackwood
JAMIE DOUGLAS—C
1
O wally, 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'll 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'll set thee in a chair of gold,
And use you kindly on my knee.’
5
‘When cockle-shells turn silver bells,And mussels hing on every tree,
When frost and snow turn fire-brands,
Then I'll come up and dine wi thee.’
6
When my father and mother they got wordThat 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!
96
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'll get out a bill of divorce,
And I'll get a far better lord to thee.’
13
‘O 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.
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—D
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'll 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'll come doun and drink wine wi thee.’
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.’
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'll 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'll send to him,
A far better match I'll get for thee.’
9
‘Hold your tongue, my father dear,And with your folly let abee;
There'll never man sleep in my twa arms,
Sin my gude lord has forsaken me.’
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'll bid her come doun and speak to me.’
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'll never see.’
13
‘Hold your tongue, my father dear,And with your folly let abee;
For I'll ga back, and I'll 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.
15
‘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.
The Laird o Blackwood
JAMIE DOUGLAS—E
[_]
Kinloch MSS, VII, 127; 24 April, 1826, from the recitation of Jenny Watson, Lanark, aged 73, who had it from her grandmother.
1
I lay sick, and very sick,And I was bad, and like to dee;
[OMITTED]
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!
3
‘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'll never be.’
4
‘Na mair o this, my dochter dear,And of your mourning let abee;
For a bill of divorce I'll gar write for him,
A mair better lord I'll get for thee.’
5
‘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'll cast aff my robes o red,And I'll 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 intil 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.’
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—F
[_]
Motherwell's MS, p. 507; from the recitation of old Mrs Brown, residing at Linsart, parish of Lochwinnoch, September, 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!
2
My mither tauld me when I was youngThat young men's love was ill to trow;
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 kisstThat 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
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'll set thee on a chair of gowd,
And treat thee kindly on my knee!’
10
‘When cockle-shells grow sillar bells,And mussells grow on every tree,
When frost and snaw turns fiery ba's,
Then I'll come doun and dine with thee.’
11
When my father and mother got wordThat 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'll give him a bill of divorce,
And I'll 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.’
Lord Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—G
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 me.
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;
99
And the never a penny it will cost thee.’
8
‘When cockle-shells grow silver bells,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
O what need I care for Jamie DouglasMore 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.
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.
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
‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,And of your weeping pray let abee;
A bill of divorcement I'll to him send,
And a better lord I will chose for thee.’
15
‘Hold your tongue, my father dear,And of your flattery pray let abee;
I'll never lye in another man's arms,
Since my Jamie Douglas has forsaken me.’
16
It's often said in a foreign landThat 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.
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—H
1
O waly, waly up the bank!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
O 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.
5
‘Come down the stairs now, Jamie Douglas,Come down the stairs and drink wine wi me;
I'll 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
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[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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'll 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.
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—I
1
‘O waly, 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't,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, O Jamie Douglas,And drink the Orange wine with me;
I'll set thee in a chair of gold,
That neer a penny it cost thee.’
6
‘When sea and sand turns foreign land,And mussels grow on every tree,
When cockle-shells turn silver bells,
I'll 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 musick 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'll 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 Atholl'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;
101
But the buttons off her clothes did flee.
16
‘The linnet is a bonnie bird,And aften flees far frae its nest;
So all the warld may plainly see
They're far awa that I luve best.’
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—J
[_]
Motherwell's MS., p. 299; from the recitation of Rebecca Dunse, a native of Galloway, 4 May, 1825. “A song of her mother's, an old woman.”
1
O waly, 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 bonnieA little while, when it is new;
But when love grows aulder, it grows mair caulder,
And it fades awa like the mornin dew.
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'll set you on a chair of gold,
And court ye kindly on my knee.’
6
‘When cockle-shells grow silver bells,And gold it grows on every tree,
When frost and snaw turns fiery balls,
Then, love, I'll come down and dine wi thee.’
7
If I had known what I know now,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 knowThat 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'll send to him,
And a better husband I'll 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.’
102
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—K
1
O waly, 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,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
3
‘Come doun the stair, Jamie Douglas,Come doun the stair and drink wine wi me;
For a chair of gold I will set thee in,
And not one farthing it will cost thee.’
4
‘When cockle-shells grow siller bells,And mussels grow on ilka tree,
When frost and snaw turns out fire-bombs,
Then I'll come doun and drink wine wi thee.’
5
But when her father heard of this,O but an angry man was he!
And he sent four score of his ain regiment
To bring her hame to her ain countrie.
6
O 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
O 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
‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,And of your folly I pray let be;
For a bill of divorcement I'll send him,
And a better lord I'll 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,
I might have been his gay ladye.’
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—L
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'll 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'll set ye on a chair of gold,
And serve you on her bended knee.’
4
‘When cockle-shells turn silver bells,When wine drieps red frae ilka tree,
When frost and snaw will warm us a',
Then I'll cum down an dine wi thee.”
5
But whan my father gat word o this,O 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,
I never loved man but himsel.
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'll send over;
Far better lord I'll provide for thee.’
12
‘O 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
O 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'll set me down now in the dark,
For ochanie! who'll 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.
JAMIE DOUGLAS—M
1
Earl Douglas, than wham never knightHad 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'll set him on a seat of gold,
I'll serve him on my bended knee.’
3
The little page gaed up the stair:‘Lord Douglas, dyne wi your lady;
She'll set ye on a seat of gold,
And serve ye on her bended knee.’
4
‘When cockle-shells turn siller bells,When mussels grow on ilka tree,
When frost and snow sall warm us a',
Then I sall 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.’
Lord Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—N
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
Jamie Douglas
JAMIE DOUGLAS—O
‘O come down stairs, Jamie Douglas,O come down stairs and speak to me,
And I'll set thee in a fine chair of gowd,
And I'll kindly daut thee upon my knee.
105
205
LOUDON HILL, OR, DRUMCLOG
The Battle of Loudoun Hill
107
1
You'l marvel when I tell ye oOur 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-ladsThat 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 yon 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'll neer come back again,
An mony mae as weel as me.
7
‘There is not ane of a' yon menBut 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'll fight thysel an other ten.’
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 hame,
That you sae cowardly here suld prove,
An yet come of a noble Græme.’
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'll lead them on,But yet wi nae consent o me;
For weel I ken I'll 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.
108
206
BOTHWELL BRIDGE
BOTHWELL BRIDGE
109
1
‘O billie, billie, bonny billie,Will ye go to the wood wi me?
We'll ca our horse hame masterless,
An gar them trow slain men are we.’
2
‘O 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!
An fare ye well, my Earlstoun!
For thee again I'll never see.’
5
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'll yield your weapons up,
Ye'se a' gae hame to your country.’
110
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'll 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'll do for me;
Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,
Else a rebel to our king ye'll 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'll mind, and sair we'll rue,
The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.
207
LORD DELAMERE
112
The Long-armed Duke
LORD DELAMERE—A
[_]
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 shall 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 I'll soon beg a boon.’
‘Then what is your boon? let me it understand:’
‘It's to have all the poor men you have in your land.
3
‘And I'll take them to Cheshire, and there I will sowBoth hempseed 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.’
5
Then up starts his grace, the Duke of Devonshire,Saying, I'll 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.
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;O 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;I'm resolved to see what clothing he's got on.
Oh, fie upon your treachery, your treachery!’ said he,
‘Oh, king, 'twas your intention to have took my life away.
10
‘For he fought in your armour, whilst I have fought in 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.
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.’
113
Devonshire's Noble Duel with Lord Danby, in the year 1687
LORD DELAMERE—B
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.’‘'Tis to give me all the poor you have in the land;
I'll 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 deathThan 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 Devonshire,
Who said, I will fight for my lord Delamere.
7
‘He is under age, as I'll make it appear,So I'll stand in defence of my lord Delamere.’
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 calld 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.
O 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;
I 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,While poor men are starving with hunger and cold;
And if they hold on as they have begun,
They'll make little England pay dear for a king.’
114
LORD DELAMERE—C
[_]
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 his own.
Lord Delaware; or, Lord Delamare
LORD DELAMERE—D
[_]
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'll 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 breathThan 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'll fight this Dutch lord, my sire.
5
‘For he is in the right, and I'll 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,Till he left the Dutch lord a bleeding in his wounds.
This seeing, cries the king to his guards without delay,
Call Devonshire down! take the dead man away!
115
9
‘No,’ says brave Devonshire, ‘I've fought him as a man;Since he's dead, I will keep the trophies I have won.
For he fought me in your armour, while I fought him bare,
And the same you must win back, my liege, if ever you them wear.
10
‘God bless the Church of England! may it prosper on each hand,And also every poor man now starving in this land.
And while I pray success may crown our king upon his throne,
I'll wish that every poor man may long enjoy his own.’
208
LORD DERWENTWATER
117
Lord Dunwaters; or, Lord Derwentwater
LORD DERWENTWATER—A
[_]
Motherwell's MS., p. 331, July 19, 1825, “from the recitation 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;
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'll 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 Dunwaters said,
‘Alive I'll neer come hame.’
118
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.’
Lord Derwentwater
LORD DERWENTWATER—B
[_]
Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 492, 1855; learned some forty five years before from an old gentleman, who, about 1773, got it by heart from an old washerwoman singing 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 Derwentwater,
Before that you go away.’
4
‘Then here's for thee, my lady fair,[OMITTED]
A thousand pounds of beaten gold,
To lead you a lady's life.’
5
[OMITTED][OMITTED] 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 Hall,
Where all the lords of England's court
A traitor did him call.
7
‘Oh, why am I a traitor?’ said he;‘Indeed, I am no such thing;
I have fought the battles valiantly
Of James, our noble king.’
8
O then stood up an old gray-headed man,With a pole-axe in his hand:
‘'Tis your head, 'tis your head, Lord Derwentwater,
'Tis your head that I demand.’
9
[OMITTED]His eyes with weeping sore,
He laid his head upon the block,
And words spake never more.
LORD DERWENTWATER—C
1
The king has written 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.
119
Lord Derntwater
LORD DERWENTWATER—D
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.’
5
‘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 this?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, ye old gray-headed man,My life I'll 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 o merry Scotland
Be kind to my ladie!’
Lord Derwentwater
LORD DERWENTWATER—E
[_]
Communicated to Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, XI, 499, 1873, by Mr J. P. Morris, 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 Derwentwater,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 uponMade 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-boyTo saddle his bonny grey steed,
‘That I unto loving London
May ride away with speed.’
5
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 giveMy houses and my land,
120
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 Derwentwater,
‘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 life, thou good old man,My life I'll 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, [OMITTED]Lord Arnwaters
LORD DERWENTWATER—F
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-groomTo saddle his milk-white steed,
‘For I unto London must go,
For me there is much need.’
5
Out then speaks his gay lady,In child-bed where she lay:
‘Make your will, make your will, my knight,
For fear ye rue the day.’
6
‘I'll leave unto my eldest sonMy houses and my lands;
I'll leave unto my youngest son
Full forty thousand pounds.
7
‘I'll 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.
10
He had not rode a mile or twoTill his horse stumbled down;
121
‘I'll 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'll 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.’
Lord Dunwaters
LORD DERWENTWATER—G
[_]
Motherwell's MS., p. 126, from the recitation of Mrs Trail, Paisley, July 9, 1825: 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.’
Lord Derwentwater's Death
LORD DERWENTWATER—H
[_]
Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, p. 537; as recited in 1881 by Mrs Dudley, of Much Wenlock.
1
The king he wrote a letter,And sealëd 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.
3
O then bespoke his gay lady,As she on a sick-bed lay:
‘Make your will, my lord,
Before you go away.’
4
‘O there is for my eldest sonMy 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
6
Then he called to his stable-groomTo 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 mileWhen 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 callëd him a traitor,
Made the tears fall from his eyes.
10
‘A traitor, a traitor!’ his lordship said,[OMITTED]
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 off at one blow.
LORD DERWENTWATER—I
[_]
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
King 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 onStruck 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
Before you go away.
6
‘I'll leave to thee, my eldest son,My houses and my land;
I'll leave to thee, my younger son,
Ten thousand pounds in hand.
7
‘I'll 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 threeWhen stumbling fell his steed;
‘Ill omens these,’ Derwentwater said,
‘That I for James must bleed.’
12
As he rode up Westminster street,In sight of the White Hall,
123
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 broad-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.
17
‘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,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
LORD DERWENTWATER—J
1
The king has written a brod letter,An sealled it our with gould,
An sent it to Lord Darnwater,
To read it if he could.
2
Whan Lord Darnwater saa the letter,A light laughter lough he;
Bat or he read it to an end
The tear blinded his eye,
An sighan said him good Lord Darnwater,
I am near the day to dei.
3
Out spak his lady,In child-bed wher she lay;
‘My d[ea]r Lord Darnweter, what is to becom of me,
An my young famely?’
4
‘I will leave my young famelyAs well as I cane;
For I will leave to my lady
The third part of my land,
An I will live to my e[l]dest son,
The tua part of my land.
5
‘An I will live to my eldest daught[er]Five thousand pound of gold,
An I will live to my second daughter
Three thousand pound of gold.
6
‘Ye saddel to me my littel gray horse,That I had wont to ried;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
7
The first stape Lord Darnwater staped,He stumbled on a ston;
Said Lord Darnwater,
I feer I ill never come home.
8
When he came to fair London city,An near unt[o] the toun,
‘A trater! a trater!’ said they,
‘A trator we see!’
9
‘A trater?’ said good Lord Darnwater,‘A trator I nier could be,
Unless it was bringen three hundred men
To fight for young Jamie.’
10
But when he came to Tour HillBefor him came a bold man,
[OMITTED]
With a broad aix in his hand.
11
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
‘Hear is five ginies of gold an my green velvet coat,
For to be your fee.’
12
‘Ye nobels all,Come hear to see me die,
An ye peopell of fair Sco[t]land,
Be kind to my family.’
13
Lord Darnuater was dumed to die, to die,Good Lord Darnwater was dumed to die.
209
GEORDIE
127
Geordie
GEORDIE—A
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
O 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:
‘O 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 waefu lady!’
10
‘Gar bid the headin-man mak 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 handSays, 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
GEORDIE—B
[_]
a. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 13, Abbotsford. Sent to Scott by William Laidlaw, September 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 northAmang our nobles many,
And they have killed Sir Charles Hay,
And they've taen thrae me my Geordie.’
2
‘O where'll I 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'll 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'll 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 Closs,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
'Twas 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 haud 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'll 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'll soon gar hang your Geordie.’
129
21
It's out an spak than a Scottish lord,May the weel gae wi his body!
‘It's I'K cast of my coat an feght
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'll 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.’
25
'Twas 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
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
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 enjoyd 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.’
The Laird of Geight, or Gae; or, The Laird of Geight
GEORDIE—C
[_]
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 Robertson, Dunse. B. “Scotch Ballads,” etc., No 108, in a lady's hand, and perhaps obtained directly from Miss Robertson.
1
There 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'll 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.’
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,
And 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,
130
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'll 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,
Till 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 [OMITTED]And O but she spoke boldly!
‘A pox upon your nasty face!
Will ye eer be compared to my Geordie?’
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.
The Laird of Gigh, or Gae
GEORDIE—D
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 64, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813-15, p. 50, Abbotsford. “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 northAmong 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 blythe 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'll 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:
‘O I'll 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'll 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.’
131
13
Up bespake that lady fair,And O 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.
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.’
16
Up bespake the gude Argyle;He has befriended many;
‘If ye'll 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 guineas many,
And she's telld down ten hundred crowns,
And she's wone the life o Geordie.
18
When she came down through Edinborough,And Geordie in her hand, O,
‘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'?
Geordie
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 O, O my Geordie O,
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 hallThe 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!
The very stars in the firmament
Bear tokens I love Geordie.
Geordie Lukely
GEORDIE—F
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 king'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
And give it to your lady.’
5
As he came in by Stirling townHe 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'll 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'll 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'll pay me five thousand pound,
I'll 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'll 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.
Geordie; or, Geordie Lukelie
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.
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.’
Will ye go to the Hielans, Geordie?
GEORDIE—H
[_]
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 HielansA month but barely twa, O,
Till he was laid in prison strong,
For hunting the king's deer and rae, O.
3
‘O where will I get a bonny, bonny boy,That will 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 will 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 killëd 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 killëd ony;
But he has hunted the king's deer and rae,
And he will be hangëd 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'll 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
14
Then out it spak an Irish lord,O wae befa 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.’
Gight's Lady; or, Laird (Lord?) of Gight
GEORDIE—I
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 PitfanAnd 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 off 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.
5
‘Where will I get a bonny boyWill 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 Geordy.’
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 peerls 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 robbëd 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'll be nae mercy for you.
135
15
In it comes him Second Lord Judge,Says, George I'm sorry for you;
You must prepare yourself for death,
For there'll 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'll 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 aboutAmong the nobles many;
Some gave her dollars, some her crowns,
And some gave guineas many.
22
She spread her mantle on the floor,O 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,
I 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'll neer be like my Geordy.
25
‘You'll 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
‘O bonny George, but I love thee well,And O sae dear as I love thee!
The sun and moon and firmament above
Bear witness how I love thee!’
28
‘O bonny Ann, but I love thee well,And O 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!’
Gight's Lady
GEORDIE—J
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.’
5
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
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'll bid her saddle the grey, the grey,The brown rode neer so smartly;
Ye'll 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 frae 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'll saddle to me the grey, the grey,The brown rade neer so smartly;
And I'll 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,O wae be to his body!
‘The day we hangd young Charles Hay,
The morn we'll 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, young 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,
I 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 sake,
Put on your hat now, Geordie.’
25
Then out it speaks Lord Montague,O wae be to his body!
‘There's guilt appears in Gight's ain face,
Ye'll cross-examine Geordie.’
26
‘Now since it all I must confess,My crimes' baith great and mony:
A woman abused, five orphan babes,
I killd them for their money.’
137
27
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'll wear the black,
Mourn for the death o Geordie.’
29
Lord Huntly then he did speak out,O 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'll tell down ten thousand crowns,
Ye'll 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;
I might enjoyd his lady.’
33
Out it speaks the lady hersell,‘Ye need neer wish my body;
O ill befa 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.
35
‘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'll call for one, the best o clerks,Ye'll 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 Bignet'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'll 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.
GEORDIE—K
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.
138
Geordie
GEORDIE—L
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.
Geordie; or, Geordie Lukely
GEORDIE—M
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.
Geordie
GEORDIE—N
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.
142
210
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL
143
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL—A
1
O 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.’
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL—B
1
Saddled and briddledand 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 briddledand booted rade he;
Toom hame cam the saddle,
but never cam he.
Bonnie George Campbell
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL—C
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 came 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.’
5
Saddled and bridledand 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,
but never cam he!
144
BONNIE JAMES CAMPBELL—D
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.
211
BEWICK AND GRAHAM
BEWICK AND GRAHAM
[_]
a. ‘The Song of Bewick and Grahame,’ a stall-copy, in octavo, British Museum, 11621. e. 1. (4.) b. ‘A Remarkable and Memorable Song of Sir Robert Bewick and the Laird Graham,’ broadside, Roxburghe Ballads, III, 624. c. ‘A Remarkable and Memorable Song of Sir Robert Bewick and the Laird Graham,’ 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 Library, E. 1. f. ‘Bewick and Graham,’ chapbook, Newcastle, W. Fordyce. g. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 145, Abbotsford. h. ‘Chirstie Græme,’ the same, No 89.
146
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 calld two bold brethrenWhere 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'll understand:
‘O 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 gone,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'll 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 neer shall win.
21
‘O give me your blessing, father,’ he said,‘And pray well for me for to thrive;
147
I swear I'll 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;
O gin he did not become them well!
23
‘O fare thee well, my father dear!And fare thee well, thou Carlisle town!
If it be my fortune my bully to kill,
I swear I'll neer eat bread again.’
24
Now we'll 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.
25
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 beThat so boldly this way does come;
I think it is my nighest friend,
I think it is my bully Grahame.
28
‘O welcome, O welcome, bully Grahame!O man, thou art my dear, welcome!
O man, thou art my dear, welcome!
For I love thee best in Christendom.’
29
‘Away, away, O bully Bewick,And of thy bullyship let me be!
The day is come I never thought on;
Bully, I'm come here to fight with thee.’
30
‘O no! not so, O bully Grahame!That eer such a word should spoken be!
I was thy master, thou was my scholar:
So well as I have learnëd 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'll 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
‘O 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, O 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,
'Tis home again I'll 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 [off] 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 little 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
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, O bully Bewick,Arise, and speak three words to me!
Whether this be thy deadly wound,
Or God and good surgeons will mend thee.’
45
‘O 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
‘O horse, O horse, O 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'll keep;
I swear I'll 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 bully Grahame on the sun-side,
For I'm sure he's won the victory.’
52
Now we'll 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.
55
‘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'll name;
But't will be talk'd in Carlisle town
That these two [old] men were all the blame.
150
212
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE
151
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—A
[_]
Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 196, 194; sent, with other fragments, by Robert Burns to William Tytler, August, 1790; stanzas 2-6.
1
‘Where 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'll 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.
5
‘O woe be unto woman's wit!It has beguiled many;
She promised to come hersel,
But she sent three men to slay me.’
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—B
1
‘Ye are the Duke of Athol's nurse,And I'm the new-come darling;
I'll 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 sall 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,O 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'll 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 wileHow she might protect him!
She dressd him in a suit of woman's attire
And set him to her baking.
152
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 baith up and down,The curtains they spaird not to rive em,
And twenty times they passd
The squire at his baking.
Duke of Athole's Gates
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—C
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
‘O 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'll 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'll 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
‘O 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-clothesAnd I'll send you like a girl to the baking:’
And loudly, loudly they rapped at the door,
And loudly, loudly they rappëd.
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
‘O I 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
‘O 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
O 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.
Duke of Athole's Nurse
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—D
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.
2
‘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.
153
3
‘If ye'll gae down to yon ale-house,And stop till it be dawing,
And ca for a pint o the very, very best,
And I'll 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.
5
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
‘O 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'll never see sun shining.’
7
‘If ye will be advised by me,I'll be your undertaking;
I'll 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
‘O I 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.
Duke o Athole's Nourice; or, The Duke of Athol's Nourice
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—E
[_]
a. Kinloch MSS, VII, 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'll soon get a sicht o your Johnie;
But anither woman has my heart,
And I'm sorry for to leave ye.’
3
‘Ye'll dow ye doun to yon changehouse,And ye'll drink till the day be dawin;
At ilka pint's end ye'll drink my health out,
And I'll 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.
5
He spared na the sack, tho it was dear,The wine nor the sugar-candy,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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?’
154
The Duke of Athole's Nurse
THE DUKE OF ATHOLE'S NURSE—F
[_]
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-bowAnd cannilie 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-houseAnd drink till the day be dawing,
And, as sure as I ance had a love for you,
I'll come there and clear your lawing.
7
‘Ye'll spare not the wine, altho it be fine,Nae Malago, tho it be rarely,
But ye'll aye drink the bonnie lassie's health
That's to clear your lawing fairly.’
8
Then he's done him down to yon tavern-houseAnd 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, ‘O 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 claiseAnd 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'll shortly clear his lawing.’
17
‘I had nae stranger here last nightThat 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 lawing.’
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 striving.
155
213
SIR JAMES THE ROSE
Sir James the Rose
SIR JAMES THE ROSE
[_]
a. From a stall-tract of about 1780, Abbotsford library. b. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 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 MSS, I, 82. f. The same, II, 42. g. ‘Sir James the Rose,’ Pinkerton's Scottish Tragic Ballads, 1781, p. 61.
157
1
O heard ye of Sir James the Rose,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'll pay there your lawing;
And, if I be a woman true,
I'll meet you in the dawing.’
6
‘I'll not go down to yon ale-house,For you to pay my lawing;
There's forty shillings for one supper,
I'll stay in't till the dawing.’
7
He's turnd him right and round aboutAnd 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 Rose,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'll tell you where you'll find him.
12
‘You'll seek the bank above the mill,In the lowlands of Buleighen,
And there you'll 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.
15
Then out bespoke Sir John the Græme,Who had the charge a keeping;
‘It's neer be said, dear gentlemen,
We'll 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'll fall upon thee.’
18
‘Donald my man, wait me upon,And I'll give you my brechan,
And, if you stay here till I die,
You'll get my trews of tartan.
19
‘There is fifty pounds in my pocket,Besides my trews and brechan;
You'll get my watch and diamond ring;
And take me to Loch Largon.’
20
Now they have taken out his heartAnd 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 heartShe 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 sakeO but my heart's a breaking!
Curst be the day I did thee betray,
Thou brave knight of Buleighen.’
158
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.
160
214
THE BRAES O YARROW
164
The Braes of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—A
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.
2
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I'll 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;
165
O frae the braes of Yarrow!
4
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I'll be hame by hours nine,
And frae the braes of Yarrow.’
5
‘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
‘O I 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 killd 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 dule 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 breistThat 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.’
The Braes o Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—B
1
Three lords sat drinking at the wineI the bonny braes o Yarrow,
An there cam a dispute them between,
Who was the Flower 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.’
3
‘Will ye try hearts, or will ye try hans,I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?
Or will ye try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?’
4
‘I winna try hearts, I winna try hans,I the bonnie braes o Yarrow,
But I will try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’
5
‘Ye'll stay at home, my own good lord,Ye'll stay at home tomorrow;
My brethren three they will slay thee,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’
6
‘Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun,An early sings the sparrow;
166
An I'll be home tomorrow.’
7
She's kissed his mouth, an combed his hair,As she had done before, O;
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' fae sorrow!
That my good lord was sleepin soun
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’
11
‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,An tak it not in sorrow;
I'll 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 neer 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 Yarrow.
15
This lady being big wi child,She was fu o grief an sorrow;
Her heart did break, and then she died,
She did not live till morrow.
The Dowie Downs o Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—C
[_]
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
There were three lords birling at the wineOn 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'll 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.’
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 hame, 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,'Twas like the gold for yellow;
She twisted it round his milk-white hand,
And she's drawn him hame from Yarrow.
16
Out and spak her father dear,Says, What needs a' this sorrow?
For I'll 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'll neer spring sae sweet in May
As that rose I lost on Yarrow.’
The Bonny Braes of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—D
1
There were three lords drinking of wineOn 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 bot 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.’
5
‘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'll 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
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
‘O hawd your tongue!’ her father says,‘What needs a' this grief and sorrow?
I'll 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.
The Dowy Houms o Yarrow; or, The Dowie Dens o Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—E
[_]
a. In the handwriting of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, about 1801; now in a volume with the title “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 136, Abbotsford. 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 hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.’
3
‘O fare ye weel, my lady gaye!O 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.
5
O he's gane up yon high, high hill—I wat he gaed wi sorrow—
An in a den spied nine armd men,
I the dowy houms o Yarrow.
6
‘O 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 behind,
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 haud your tongue, my douchter dear,For what needs a' this sorrow?
I'll wed you on a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.’
14
‘O haud 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.’
169
The Dowie Dens o Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—F
[_]
“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.
4
‘If I see ye a’, ye'r nine for ane,But ane's [un]equal marrow;
Yet as lang's I'm able wield my brand,
I'll fight an bear ye marrow.
5
‘There are twa swords into my sheath,The're ane and equal marrow;
Now wale the best, I'll take the warst,
An, man for man, I'll 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.
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.’
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 nightWi 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.
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 haud yer tongue, my daughter dear,For this breeds ay but sorrow;
I'll wed you to a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.’
14
‘O haud yer tongue, my father dear,For ye but breed mair sorrow;
A better rose will never spring
Than him I've lost on Yarrow.’
15
This lady being big wi child,An fu o lamentation,
She died within her father's arms,
Amang this stuborn nation.
The Dowie Dens of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—G
[_]
“Carterhaugh, June 15, 1802.” “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 135, Abbotsford.
1
She kissd his mouth and she combd his hair,As she had done before, O,
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
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'll 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, O;
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'll wed you on a better lord
Than you have lost on Yarrow.’
10
‘O hold your tongue now, father dear,These words to me's great sorrow;
A brighter O 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.
The Dowie Dens of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—H
1
'Twas 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'll take the worst,
Come man for man, I'll 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.
171
Braes of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—I
1
Ten lords sat drinking at the wineIntill a morning early;
There fell a combat them among,
It must be fought, nae parley.
2
‘O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!O 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 O,
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 O,
Nine armed men lay in a den,
Upo the braes o Yarrow.
5
‘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 O;
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,
Aff 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 dreamd 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'll read your dream, sister,’ he says,‘I'll read it into sorrow;
Ye're bidden gae take up your luve,
He's sleeping sound on Yarrow.’
12
She's torn the ribbons frae 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'll wed you wi a better lord
Than he that died on Yarrow.’
15
‘O 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 O,
An wi a crack her head did brack,
Upo the braes o Yarrow.
172
The Dowie Glens of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—J
[_]
Taken down from the singing of Marion Miller, in Threepwood, in the parish of Melrose. In Thomas Wilkie's handwriting, “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, O,
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'll 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'll 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.
15
She's washd him in the clear well-strand,She's dry'd him wi the holland,
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'll soon wed you on a better match
Than 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'll 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.
173
The Dowie Den in Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—K
[_]
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 all 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'll 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 rejoyfull 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'll 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.
The Dowie Dens
THE BRAES O YARROW—L
[_]
Blackwood's Magazine, CXLVII, 741, June, 1890; communicated by Professor John Veitch, as received from William 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 fightThe 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
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'll fecht ye, man for man,
For my true love in Yarrow.’
7
Then he wheeld round, and fought so fierceTill 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 heelsAnd 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'll 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, O;
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'll wed ye on a better lad
Than ye hae lost in Yarrow.’
18
‘Haud 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 fu 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.
Dowie Banks of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—M
[_]
In the handwriting of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd (later than E a). “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 11 a, Abbotsford.
1
O ay 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.
175
4
‘But there is two swords in my scabba[rd],They cost me gold and money;
Tak ye the best, and I'll tak the wa[rst],
An come man for man, I'll not fly yo[u].’
5
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
‘O the last night I dreamd a dream,God keep us a' frae 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
‘O the last time I saw my loveHe 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, O,
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'll 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.’
The Yetts of Gowrie
THE BRAES O YARROW—N
[_]
Communicated to Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, No 189); presumably learned by her at Longuewton, near Jedburgh. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 84, Abbotsford.
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
‘O 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
‘O 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'll 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'll 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
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 GowrieFor 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 claiseWere 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 claiseWere 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.
THE BRAES O YARROW—O
1
‘I dreamd 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'll read your dream, my sister dear,I'll 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 southTo where my love repaireth,
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
And tell me how he fareth!
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.’
THE BRAES O YARROW—P
[_]
Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 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'll 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.’
177
The Dowie Dens of Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—Q
[_]
Kidson's Traditional Tunes, etc., 1891, p. 21. From Mrs Calvert, of Gilnockie, Eskdale; obtained by her on the braes of Yarrow from her grandmother, Tibbie Stuel. (Compare, especially, J-L.)
1
There lived a lady in the West,I neer could find her marrow;
She was courted by nine gentlemen,
And a ploughboy-lad in Yarrow.
2
These nine sat drinking at the wine,Sat drinking wine in Yarrow;
They made a vow among themselves
To fight for her in Yarrow.
3
She washed his face, she kaimed his hair,As oft she'd done before, O,
She made him like a knight sae bright,
To fight for her in Yarrow.
4
As he walked up yon high, high hill,And down by the holmes of Yarrow,
There he saw nine armëd men,
Come to fight with him in Yarrow.
5
‘There's nine of you, there's one of me,It's an unequal marrow;
But I'll fight you all one by one,
On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’
6
Three he slew, and three they flew,And three he wounded sorely,
Till her brother John he came in beyond,
And pierced his heart most foully.
7
‘Go home, go home, thou false young man,And tell thy sister Sarah
That her true-love John lies dead and gone
On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’
8
‘O father dear, I dreamed a dream,I'm afraid it will bring sorrow;
I dreamed I was pulling the heather-bell
In the dowie dens of Yarrow.’
9
‘O daughter dear, I read your dream,I doubt it will prove sorrow;
For your true-love John lies dead and gone
On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’
10
As she walked up yon high, high hill,And down by the holmes of Yarrow,
There she saw her true-love John,
Lying pale and dead on Yarrow.
11
Her hair it being three quarters long —The colour it was yellow —
She wrapped it round his middle sma,
And carried him hame to Yarrow.
12
‘O father dear, you've seven sons,You may wed them a' tomorrow,
But a fairer flower I never saw
Than the lad I loved in Yarrow.’
13
The fair maid being great with child,It filled her heart with sorrow;
She died within her lover's arms,
Between that day and morrow.
THE BRAES O YARROW—R
[_]
Macmath MS. p. 91. Inserted in a copy of The Scottish Ballads ... by Robert Chambers, 1829, p. 145, latterly belonging to Rev. Dr James C. Burns, Free Church, Kirkliston.
1
‘There were three lords drinking at the wineIn the Leader Haughs of Yarrow:
‘Shall we go play at cards and dice,
As we have done before, O?
Or shall we go play at the single sword,
In the Leader Haughs of Yarrow?’
2
Three he wounded, and five he slew,As he had [done] before, O,
But an English lord lap from a bush,
And he proved all the sorrow;
He had a spear three quarters long,
And he thrust his body thorogh.
3
‘I dreamed [OMITTED]I wis it prove nae sorrow!
I dreamed I was puing the apples green
In the dowie howms o Yarrow.’
4
‘O sister, sister, I'll read your dream,And I'll read it in sorrow;
Ye may gae bring hame your ain true-love,
For he's sleepin sound in Yarrow.’
5
She sought him east, she sought him west,She sought him all the forest thorogh;
She found him asleep at the middle yett,
In the dowie howms o Yarrow.
6
Her hair it was three quarters lang,And the colour of it was yellow;
She's bound it round his middle waist,
And borne him hame from Yarrow.
The Dowie Dens o Yarrow
THE BRAES O YARROW—S
1
There lived a lady in the South,Ye would scarcely find her marrow;
She was courted by nine gentlemen
An a ploughman-lad frae Yarrow.
2
Ae nicht the nine sat drinkin wineTo the lass wha had nae marrow,
When the ploughman swore, tho they were a score
He wad fecht them a' in Yarrow.
3
It's he's gane ower yon high, high hill,And doon yon glen sae narrow,
An there he saw nine armëd men,
To fecht wi him in Yarrow.
4
‘There's nine o you an I'm but ane,An that's an unequal marrow,
But wi this gude blade and powerfu arm
I'll lay you low on Yarrow.’
5
It's three he slew, and three withdrew,And three lay dead on Yarrow,
But in behind cam her brother John,
An pierced his body thorough.
6
‘Gae hame, gae hame, you fause young man,An tell your sister sorrow,
That her true-love John lies dead and gone
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.’
7
‘O father dear, I've dreamed a dream,I'm feared it will prove sorrow;
I dreamed I was puin the heather-bells sweet
On the bonny braes o Yarrow.’
8
‘O daughter dear, your dream is read,I'm feared it will prove sorrow;
Your true-love John lies dead and gone
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.’
9
It's she's gane ower yon high, high hill,An doon yon glen sae narrow,
An there she saw her true-love John
Lyin cauld an dead on Yarrow.
10
She washed his face an combed his hair,Wi muckle grief an sorrow,
She rowed him i the plaid she wore,
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.
11
Her hair it was three quarters lang,The colour being yellow;
She tied it round his middle sma,
An carried him hame frae Yarrow.
12
‘O daughter dear, I pray forbear,I'll wed you to another marrow;
I'll wed you to some fitter match
Than the lad that died on Yarrow.’
13
‘O father dear, you hae seven sons,Should you wed them a' to-morrow,
A fairer flower never grew in June
Than the lad that died on Yarrow.’
14
This lady, being six months with childTo the ploughman lad of Yarrow,
She fell into her father's arms
An died wi grief on Yarrow.
178
215
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE
179
Willy's rare and Willy's fair
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—A
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 brade,The night I'll make it narrow,
For a' the live-long winter's night
I lie twin'd of my marrow.
3
‘O 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.
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—B
[_]
a. Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 196; eighth and ninth stanzas of a fragment sent William Tytler by Burns 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
The Dowie Dens o Yarrow
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—C
[_]
Gibb MS., No 7, p. 37; from recitation. “Traced to Eppie Fraser, 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
‘O sister dear, I'll read your dream,I'm afraid it will be sorrow;
Ye'll 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.
5
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 sall be narrow;
There's neer a man lie by my side
Since Willie's drowned in Yarrow.’
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—D
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.’
3
‘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
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
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.
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
10
Out spak the bonny bride, [OMITTED]‘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.
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 [O]:
‘Baith our mithers sall be alike sorry,
For we's baith sleep in Gamery.’
Willie's drowned in Gamery
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—E
1
‘O Willie is fair, and Willie is rare,And Willie is wondrous bonny,
And Willie says he'll marry me,
Gin ever he marry ony.’
2
‘O 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'll 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
‘O 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 the 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!’
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'll tell you plainly;
The stream was strong, the clerk rade wrong,
And Willie's drownd in Gamery.
15
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
The Water o Gamery
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—F
1
Whan Willie was in his saddle set,And all his merry men wi him,
‘Stay still, stay still, my merry 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'll 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.
4
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
‘But Gamery it is wide and deep,
An ye'll 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'll 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 twaAnd gied him kisses many:
‘My mother's be as wae as thine!
We'll baith lie in the Water o Gamery.’
The Water o Ganrie
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—G
[_]
Motherwell's MS., p. 637; from the recitation of the wife of James Baird, forester at Dalrymple.
1
‘O stay at hame, my ain son Willie,And let your bride tak Johnie!
O stay at hame, my ain son Willie!
For my blessing gaes not wi thee.’
2
‘I canna stay, nor I winna stay,And let my bride tak Johnie;
I canna stay, nor I winna stay,
Though your blessing gaes na wi me.
3
‘I have a steed in my stableThat 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 Willie.
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 sall be wae as thine,’
And she's lain doun aside him.
183
The Water o Gemrie
RARE WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW, OR, THE WATER O GAMRIE—H
1
They 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 ageWhen ye met in wi bonny Maggie,
And I'm sure, my dear, she'll 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!’Cried that joyful company;
‘O much is the pity! O 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.
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.’
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
‘O 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'll 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 O now he's whiteAnd Willie was wondrous bonny,
And Willie he said he'd marry me,
Gin ere he married oney.
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.’
185
216
THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER
187
Clide's Water
THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—A
1
‘Ye gie corn to my hors,An meatt to my man,
For I will gai to my true-love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
2
‘O stay att home, my son Willie,This a bare night we me;
The best bed in a' my house
Sall be well made to the.’
3
‘I care na for your beds, mider,I care na a pin;
For I ill gae to my love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
4
‘O stay, my son Willie,This night we me;
The best hen in a' mey reast
Sall be well made ready for the.’
5
‘I care na for your heans, midder,I care na a pin;
For I ull gae to my love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
6
‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,This a bare night we me,
Gin Claid's water be dip an fue of flud,
My malicen droun ye in.’
7
He road up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den;
The roring of Clid's water
Wod ha flied ten thousand men.
8
‘O spair me, Claid's water,Spare me as I gaa!
Make me yer wrak as I come back,
Bat spare me as I gaa!’
9
He raid in, an forder in,Till he came to the chin;
An he raid in, an forder in,
Till he came to dray lan.
10
An fan he came to his love's gatesHe tirled att the pin:
‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,
Open yer gates to me,
For my bets is fue of Claid's water,
An the rain rins on a' my chine.’
11
‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,‘I haa ne love theren;
My true-love is in my arms tua,
An nean will I latt in.’
12
‘Open yer gates, Meggie,This night to me,
For Clide's water is full of flood,
An my mider's mallison will droun me in.’
13
‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,‘Anether is full of hay,
The other is full of gentelmen,
An they winnë remove till day.’
14
Out waked her May Meggie,Out of her drussie dream:
‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,
God read a' dreams to gued!
That my true-love Willie
Was staning att my bed-feet.’
15
‘Nou lay still, my a dather,An keep my back fraa the call;
It's na the space of haf an hour
Sayn he gade fra your hall.’
16
‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’
But ay the louder that she crayed
He read agenst the wind.
17
He raid up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den,
An the roring that was in Clid's water
Wad ha fleed ten thousand men.
18
He raid inTell he came to the chine,
An he raid forder in,
Bat never mare came out agen.
19
She sought him up, she sought him doun,She sought him braid an narrou;
In the depest pot in a' Claid's water,
Ther she gat Suit Willie.
20
She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had den afore:
‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,
For we's bath slipe soun in Clide's water.’
21
Ther was na mare seen of that gued lordBat his hat frae his head;
There was na mare seen of that gued lady
Bat her keem an her sneed.
22
Ther mideers went up an doun the water,Saying, Clayd's water din us wrong!
188
Willie and May Margaret
THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—B
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
‘O 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!’
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.’
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 corn,The tither is fu o hay;
The tither is fu 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,
'Twas half up oer the brae.
17
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
[OMITTED] he plunged in,
But never raise again.
The Drowned Lovers; or, Willie and Margaret
THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—C
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'll awa to Maggie's bower;
I'll win ere she lie down.’
3
‘O bide this night wi me, Willie,O 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,I value not a prin,
For I'll awa to Meggie's bower;
I'll win ere she lie down.’
5
‘Stay this night wi me, Willie,O 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,I value not a prin,
For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower;
I'll 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 uponCost me thrice thretty pound;
And I'll 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
‘O 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'll 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
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'll nae remove till day.’
16
‘O fare ye well, my fause Meggie,O 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 ower 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'll turn ye to your high horse head
And learn how to sowm.
21
‘How can I turn to my horse headAnd 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 sankInto 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.’
191
217
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS
193
The Laird of Knotington
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—A
[_]
Percy papers; communicated to Percy by R. Lambe, of Norham, August 17, 1768, and dated May, 1768.
1
There was a troop of merry gentlemenWas 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 wantThe best of corn and hay;
But as to you yoursel, kind sir,
I've naething for to say.’
5
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.’
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 misty 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,
194
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'll 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.’
Bonny May
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—B
1
It was on an evning sae saft and sae clearA 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:’
‘O if I do sae, it may breed me wae,
For langer I dare nae stay.’
3
But dark and misty was the nightBefore 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 three,
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 eveningThe 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.’
Laird o Ochiltre
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—C
1
It was on a day whan a lovely mayWas 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;
195
And the way I canna see.’
3
‘O haud you on the same way,’ she said,‘O 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 by 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 hae 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 mayWas 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 aff 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
[OMITTED]
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.
The Laird o Ochiltree Wa's
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—D
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
Out-ower the tap o the knows, knows, knowes,
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
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 herHe 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'll see nae mair.
8
He pu't out a silken purseAnd he gied her guineas thrie,
Saying, Gin I may na be back in three quarters o a year,
It will pay the nourice fee.
9
He put his fut into the stirrupAnd 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'll 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.’
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—E
[_]
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'll give thee my milk-white steed,It cost me three hundred pound,
If ye'll 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.’
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'll 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 againHe's gien her guineas three:
‘If I be na back gin three quarters o a year,
Ye need neer think mair on me.’
8
‘O where hast thou been, bonnie may,’ he said,‘O 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;
For or he had taen the bonnie lamb he took,
Ye 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 ca'ing out her father's kye,
And by came a troop of gentlemen,
And they rode by and by.
15
‘O wha got the bairn wi thee, bonnie may?O wha got the bairn wi thee?’
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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'll 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.
Bonny May
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—F
[_]
Gibb MS., p. 9. “From recitation; traced to Mary Jack, Lochlee, Forfarshire, died 1881, aged 94.”
1
Bonny 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
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's 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 sall 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.’
The Broom of Cowdenknows
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—G
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 gentlemenCame 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?’
5
‘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
‘Ride 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
‘O winna ye pity me, bonny lass?O winna ye pity me?
An winna ye pity my poor steed,
Stands trembling at yon tree?’
199
8
‘I wadna pity your poor steed,Tho 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
O he's leapt on his berry-brown steed,An soon he's oertaen his men;
And ane and a' cried out to him,
O 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.’
25
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 hills,I hae thirty plows and three,
An I hae gotten the bonniest lass
That's in a' the south country.’
200
The Maid o the Cowdenknows
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—H
1
There 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.’
5
‘Haud by the gate ye cam, kind sir,Haud 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-faurd 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.’
15
‘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 pocketAnd tane out guineas three;
Says, Tak ye that, my bonnie may;
It'll 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,
201
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?O 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, fause may,’ he said,‘Sae loud as I hear ye lee!
Dinna ye mind o the mirk misty nicht
I 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 sall 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
O 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.’
Laird o Lochnie
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—I
[_]
Kinloch MSS, VII, 153; from the recitation of Miss M. Kinnear, August 23, 1826, a North Country 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'll 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.
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 maidTill 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
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—J
[_]
Kinloch MSS, VI, 11; in the handwriting of Dr Joseph Robertson, and given him by his mother, Christian Leslie.
1
It was a dark and a misty night,[OMITTED]
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,
Rides 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
[OMITTED]
8
[OMITTED]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-fa'it may!Wha's aught the bairn ye're wi?’
‘O I hae a husband o my ain,
To father my bairn te.’
10
‘You lie, you lie, you well-far'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.’
Maiden o the Cowdenknowes
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—K
[_]
Joseph Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No 6; “taken down from a man in the parish of Leochel, 12 February, 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'll get a boy for meat,’ she says,‘Ye'll get a boy for fee,
[OMITTED]
That will shew you the right way.’
4
‘We'll get a boy for meat,’ he says,‘We'll get a boy for fee,
But we do not know where to seek
That bonny boy out.’
5
‘It's foul befa 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.’
203
The Broom of the Cowden Knowes
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—L
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.
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,
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 lays,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 aboutAnd 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
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 steedAnd 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.
The broom grows oer the burn!
Aye when she minds on his yellow hair,
She shall neer hae cause to mourn.
Broom o the Cowdenknowes
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—M
1
'Twas on a misty day, a fair maiden gayWent 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.
5
‘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 gentlemenCame 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
‘O 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 beguiles a' our young women.’
13
‘O 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 lamar beads,And by your merry winking ee,
205
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.’
‘O 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
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
‘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 timeShe 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
O 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?
‘O 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
‘O 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, O pity me!’
32
‘Win up, win up, fair maiden,’ he said,‘Nae langer here ye'll stay;
This night ye'se be my wedded wife,
Without any more delay.’
33
He lighted aff his milk-white steedAnd set the lassie on;
206
‘She'll 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.
The Laird of Lochinvar
THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS—N
1
O there war a troop o merry gentlemenCam riding oure the knowes,
And they hear the voice o a bonny lass,
In the buchts, milking the yowes.
2
‘O save thee, O 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 handAnd 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:
‘O 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;
O 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, O 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'll na tell the daddie o itTill father nor to mither,
And she'll na tell the daddie o it
To sister nor to brither.
207
17
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'll na tell the daddie o itTo father nor to mither,
And she'll 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 thoucht he
‘Better do I loe her little finger
Than a' thy haill 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'll mak thee.
28
‘Come doun, come doun, now gentlemen a',And set this fair lady on;
Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will,
For she'll 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 countrie.’
209
218
THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK
210
The Fause Lover
THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK—A
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 turnd 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, fause 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'll 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?
211
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.
The Place where my love Johnny dwells
THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK—B
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;
For I'll be dead and in my grave
Ere ye come back again.’
4
He put his foot into the stirrupAnd said he maun go ride,
But she kilted up her green claithing
And said she woudna bide.
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.
6
‘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'.’
7
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.
8
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.
9
‘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.
10
‘There's comfort for the comfortless,There's honey for the bee;
There's comfort for the comfortless,
There's nane but you for me.’
212
219
THE GARDENER
The Gardener
THE GARDENER—A
[_]
Kinloch MSS, V, 47, in the handwriting of James Beattie; 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
‘O lady, can you fancy me,For to be my bride,
You'll 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 jellyflower,
And the primrose 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.
5
‘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'll 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.’
213
The Gardener Lad
THE GARDENER—B
1
All ye young men, I pray draw near,I'll 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.
5
‘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 showersMake the trees yield in the ground,
And kindly words will woman win,
And this maid I'll 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'll shape a weed for thee.’
9
‘I will live on fruit,’ she says,‘But I'll never marry thee;
For I can live without mankind,
And without mankind I'll die.’
10
‘Ye shall not live without mankind,If ye'll accept of me;
For among the flowers in my garden
I'll 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 you,
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 uponShall 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 wearShall be o the weather gray,
And aye when you come into my sight
I'll wish you were away.’
214
THE GARDENER—C
1
Burd 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 theeAmang my simmer flowers;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
3
‘Gin ye hae shapen a weed for me,Amang your simmer flowers,
It's I'll repay ye back again,
Amang the winter showers.
4
‘The steed that ye sall ride uponSall be o the frost sae snell,
And I'll saddle him wi the norlan winds,
And some sharp showers o hail.’
220
THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY
215
The Bonny Lass of Anglesey
THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY—A
1
Our 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 millI gie thee till the day thou die,
And the fairest knight in a' my court
To chuse thy husband for to be.’
5
She's taen the fifteen lord[s] 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 frae him his belt and sword,
And to the floor gaed manfully.
7
He said, ‘My feet shall be my deadBefore she win the victory;’
But before 't was ten o'clock at night
He gaed it oer as shamefully.
The Bonny Lass o Englessie's Dance
THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY—B
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 maun 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 millI'll give you till the day ye die;
The bravest knight in all my court,
I'll give, your husband for to be.’
5
She's taen the first lord by the hand,Says, ‘Ye'll 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 deadBefore he lost the victorie;
He danc'd full fast, but tired at last,
And gae it up as shamefullie.
216
221
KATHARINE JAFFRAY
219
Katharine Jaffray
KATHARINE JAFFRAY—A
[_]
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.
1
There livd a lass in yonder dale,And doun in yonder glen, O
And Kathrine Jaffray was her name,
Well known by many men. O
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;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'll mount and ride away.’
9
There was a glass of the red wineFilld 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'l 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.
The Laird of Laminton
KATHARINE JAFFRAY—B
1
The gallant laird of LamingtonCam 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 messengerRight 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
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'll play him foul play.’
9
Up did start the bonny bridegroom,His hat into his hand,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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 [OMITTED]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'll play you the scorn.
17
‘They will play you the scornUpo your wedding-day,
And gie you frogs instead o fish,
And do you foul, foul play.’
Katherine Jaffarie
KATHARINE JAFFARY—C
[_]
“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 telld the bonnie lass hersel,
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,
'Twas up then cam Lord Lauderdale,
The bridegroom soud hae been.
7
Up then spak Lord Faughanwood,An he spak very slee:
‘O are ye come for sport?’ he says,
‘Or are ye come for play?
221
An the morn her waddin-day?’
8
‘O I'm no come for ought,’ he says,‘But for some sport or play;
An ae word o yer bonnie bride,
Than I'll horse an ride away.’
9
She filld 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,And by the gars-green sleeve,
An he has mountit her behind him,
O the bridegroom spierd nae leave.
12
‘It'[s] now take yer bride, Lord Faughanwood,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 EnglandThat live by the English border,
Gang never to Scotland to seek a wife,
Or than ye'll get the scorn.
17
They'll keep ye up i temper guidUntil yer wadin-day,
They'll thraw ye frogs instead o fish,
An steal your bride away.
The Laird of Laminton
KATHARINE JAFFARY—D
[_]
“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 LachenwareCame 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 westWhere 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
8
When they came to Lachanware,And near-han by the town,
There was a dinner-making,
Wi great mirth and renown.
9
Lamington 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'll 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 your wedding-day;
They'll gee you frogs instead of fish,
And take your bride away.’
20
Fair fa the lads of Lamington,Has taen their bride away!
They'll set them up in temper wood
And scorn you all day.
Cathrine Jaffray
KATHARINE JAFFARY—E
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 LamendallCame frae the South Country,
An for to gain this lady's love
In entreid he.
4
[OMITTED][OMITTED]
He has gained her friends' consent,
An sett the wedding-day.
5
The wedding-day it being set,An a' man to it [OMITTED],
She sent for her first fair love,
The wedding to come to.
223
6
His father an his mother came,[OMITTED]
They came a', but he came no;
It was a foul play.
7
Lochinvar, as his comradsSat 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;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
13
‘There was a young man in this placeLoved 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;
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
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,[OMITTED] 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
[OMITTED]‘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,[OMITTED]
He gaed them frogs instead o fish,
An tain their bride away.
Catherine Janferry
KATHARINE JAFFARY—F
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 wellTo 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
5
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 messengerNow out thro a' the land,
To warn a hundred gentlemen,
O gallant and good renown.
8
O 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'll go to the bridal-house,
And see what they will say.’
11
When he gaed to the bridal-house,And lighted and gaed in,
There were four and twenty English lords,
O gallant and good renown.
12
O 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 wrothWhat could be in his mind;
They stert to foot, on horseback lap,
‘Come fecht! what's i your mind?’
15
‘I came na here to feght,’ he said,‘But for good sport and play;
And one glass wi yer bonny bridegroom,
And I'll 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 horseAnd 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'll gie you frogs instead of fish,
And steal your bride away.
225
Catharine Jaffery
KATHARINE JAFFARY—G
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 LauderdaleCame 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.
5
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 all at your command,And your bidding to obey,
Yet still cause you the trumpet sound
The voice of foul play.’
9
He got a quiet messengerTo send thro all his land,
And full three hundred pretty lads
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.
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'll 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 wonderedWhat 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 menAs were there in array?
‘O yes,’ said he, ‘a Fairy Court
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'll 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'll 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
22
There were four and twenty ladies fairAll 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 sonLay gasping on the ground,
But the bonny laird of Lochinvar
He has the victory won.
KATHARINE JAFFARY—H
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 LammingtonCame 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 LaughenwaurCame frae the English border,
And all to court that pretty girl,
Well 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 wineWas 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'l get the scorn.
13
The'll keep ye up, and tamper ye at,Until yer wedding-day,
And they'l gie ye frogs instead o fish,
And they'll play ye a foul play.
227
KATHARINE JAFFARY—I
[_]
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 dwellA 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 scornfullie,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'll 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'll go away.’
12
Then they filld him up a brimming glass,And drank it between them twa:
‘Now one word of your bonnie bride,
And then I'll 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 scornUpon your wedding-day;
Least ye catch frogs instead of fish,
And then ye'll ca't foul play.
228
Catherine Johnson; or, Catherine Johnstone
KATHARINE JAFFARY—J
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 English border;
He is for this bonnie lass,
To keep his house in order.
5
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 wineIn silver cups did flow,
But aye she drank to Lamingtoun,
For with him would she go.
13
O meikle was the good red wineIn 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'll 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 shedUpon 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'll feed ye up wi flattering words,And that's foul play;
And they'll dress ye frogs instead o fish,
Just on your wedding-day.
229
Loch-in-var
KATHARINE JAFFARY—K
[_]
Buchan'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 herThese twelve months and a day;
With flattering words and fair speeches
He has stown her heart away.
3
There came a knight from south sea-bank,From north England I mean,
He alighted at her father's yetts,
His stile is Lord Lymington.
4
He has courted her father and mothHer kinsfolk ane and aye,
But he never told the lady hersell
Till he set the wedding-day.
5
‘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'll never wed a man on earth
Till 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 boyWill win baith meet and fee,
And will run on to Lochinvar
And come again to me?’
9
‘O here am I, a bonny boyThat 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;
Where ye find the grass growing,
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 will 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 roun.
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
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 bride frae her bridegroom
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'll scoff and scorn you,And aye they'll ride away;
They'll gie you frogs instead of fish,
And call it foul play.
KATHARINE JAFFARY—L
[_]
Macmath MS., p. 72, communicated January 13, 1883, by Dr Robert Trotter, as remembered from the recitation of his father, Dr Robert Trotter, of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire.
1
They askëd him and speirëd 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 jeerëd them,And thus to them did say,
‘O I saw nocht but a fairy troop,
As I rode on my way.’
231
222
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON
233
Bonny Baby Livingston
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON—A
[_]
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
O bonny Baby LivingstonWent forth to view the hay,
And by it came him Glenlion,
Sta bonny Baby away.
2
O 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.
3
He has set her upon his steedAnd roundly rode away,
And neer loot her look back again
The live-long summer's day.
4
He's carried her oer hills and muirsTill 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'll 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'll stay a while at Auchingour,And get sweet milk and cheese,
And syne we'll gang to Glenlion,
And there live at our ease.’
10
‘I winna stay at Auchingour,Nor eat sweet milk and cheese,
Nor go with thee to Glenlion,
For there I'll 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 says,‘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 sairA 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 handsAnd 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,
‘O 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
21
And she has gotten a bonny boy,That was baith swift and strang,
Wi philabeg and bonnet blue,
Her errand for to gang.
22
‘O boy, gin ye'd my blessing winAnd 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'll 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.
25
And when he came to Johny's doorHe 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!
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'll 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'll 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 sheetsAnd 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 aff wi Johny Hay.’
35
Glenlion and his brother JohnWere 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'll 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'll 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! fy for shame!Gae hide ye in some den!
You've lettn your bride be stown frae you,
For a' your armed men.’
235
Barbara Livingston
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON—B
1
Bonny Barbara LivingstonWent 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'll 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!O dear! if it were day,
And me upon my father's steed,
I 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
‘O here am I, a little wee boyWill work for meat and fee,
Will go and carry that letter
To your love in Dundee.’
20
Upstarts the morn, the boy he ranOer 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;
236
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 your 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 lykeThe beer but and the wine,
For ere the morn at this same time
Ye'll deal the same at mine.’
Barbara Livingston
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON—C
1
Four-and-twenty ladies fairWas 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'll tak me to Dundee.’
4
‘The Hielands'll 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.
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!
Thou micht hae taen anither woman,
And let my lady be.’
Annie Livingston
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON—D
1
Bonnie Annie LivingstoneWas 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's taen her to the Highland hills,
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.
5
‘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
‘O 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'll away to Glendinning Castle
And see my sister Ann.’
10
When he came to Glendinning yet,He lighted on the green,
ut 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
Baby Livingstone
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON—E
1
Bonny Baby LivingstoneWent 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'll get me paper, pen, and ink,And light to let me see,
Till I write on a broad letter
And send't to Lord [OMITTED]’
239
223
EPPIE MORRIE
Eppie Morrie
240
1
Four-and-twenty Highland menCame 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 frae me, mother,Haud far awa frae me;
There's not a man in a' Strathdon
Shall wedded be with me.’
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'll be your priest.’
6
‘Haud far awa frae me, good sir,Haud far awa frae me;
For there's not a man in all 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.
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.
10
‘Haud far awa frae me, Willie,Haud far awa frae me;
Before I'll lose my maidenhead,
I'll try my strength with thee.’
11
She took the cap from off her headAnd threw it to the way;
Said, Ere I lose my maidenhead,
I'll 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.
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'll 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.
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'll come soon.’
241
224
THE LADY OF ARNGOSK
THE LADY OF ARNGOSK
243
1
The Highlandmen hae a' come down,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
245
ROB ROY—A
1
Rob Roy, 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;
Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes
They parted frae ane anither.
4
‘O 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.’
5
‘I winna be your dear,’ [she says,]‘Nor will I be your honnie,
Nor will I be your wedded wife;
Ye lee me for my money.’
6
[OMITTED] by the way,This lady aftimes fainted;
Says, Woe be to my cursed gold,
This road for me's invented!
246
7
He gave her no time for to dressLike ladies when they're ridin,
But set her on hie horseback,
Himsel was ay beside her.
8
Whan they came to the Black House,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 lan,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'll learn ye a dance, lady.
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.’
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—B
1
Rob Roy frae the Hielands camUnto the Lawland border,
And he has stown a ladie fair,
To haud 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 dressAs 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, O;
Maist mournfully she wept and cried
Whan she bye him was laid, O.
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
‘Rob 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 faes, ladie;
And ilka ane that did him wrang,
He beat him on the neis, ladie.
13
‘I'm as bold, I am as boldAs my father was afore, ladie;
Ilka ane that does me wrang
Sall feel my gude claymore, ladie.
14
‘There neer was frae Lochlomond westThat eer I did him fear, ladie;
For, if his person did escape,
I seizd upon his gear, ladie.
15
‘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'll hae a dance, ladie.’
Rob Roy MacGregor
ROB ROY—C
1
Rob Roy's from the Hielands comeUnto 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 dressedAs 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 town,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, O.
13
‘Now you're come to the Highland hills,Out of your native clime, lady,
248
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
‘O 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'll 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.’
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—D
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 147, Abbotsford; in a handwriting of the early part of this century.
1
Rob Roy from the Highlands cameUnto the Lowland border;
It was to steal a ladie away,
To keep his house in order.
2
He gae her nae time to dress herselfLike 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'll never be your honey;
I'll 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;
‘Oh, 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 matchFor 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.
249
13
‘My father dealt in cows and ewes,Likewise in goats and sheep, ladie,
And a' the country round about
Has heard of Roy'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?
15
‘My father was a Highland laird,Altho he be now dead, ladie,
And a' the country round about
Has heard of Roy's fame, ladie.’
Rob Ro
ROB ROY—E
1
Rob Roy from the Highlands camUnto our Scottish border,
And he has stown a lady fair,
To haud 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 hauding by her mother,
Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes
They parted frae each other.
5
Nae time he gied her to be dressedAs 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, O,
Wi watery eyes and murnfu sighs
When she behind was laid, O.
8
‘O 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 Rob Roy called,MacGregor is his name, lady;
In all 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.
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—F
1
Rob Roy frae the Highlands cameUnto the Lawland border,
And he has stolen a lady away,
To haud his house in order.
2
He's pu'd her out amang his men,She holding by her mother;
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,
250
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'll be kind, I'll be kind,I'll 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 will go, we will go,We will go to France, lady,
Where I before for safety fled,
And there wee'l 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.
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—G
1
Rob Roy from the Highlands camUnto the Lawlan border,
To steal awa a gay ladie,
To haud 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
‘O will ye gae wi me’? he says,‘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 friens 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.
7
‘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 friens,A heckle to his foes, ladie,
Every one that durst him wrang,
He took him by the nose, ladie.
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.’
251
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—H
[_]
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 comeDown to the Lowland border,
And he has stolen that lady away,
To haud 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.’
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—I
1
Rob Roy is frae the Highlands comeUnto 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, O 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,O 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
He hit them oer the nose, lady.
13
‘I['m] as bold, I['m] 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'll 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.’
Rob Oig
ROB ROY—J
[_]
A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Aungervyle Society, 1881, from a manuscript which had belonged to Maidment.
1
From 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 haud 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.
4
They rode till they cam to Ballyshine,At Ballyshine they tarried;
Nae time he gave her to be dressed,
In cotton gown her married.
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'll try my strength with thee.’
7
She's torn the cap from off her headAnd 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!’
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.’
253
Rob Roy
ROB ROY—K
[_]
Laing's Thistle of Scotland, p. 93; compounded, with some alterations, from two copies, one from Miss Harper, Kildrummy, the other from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket.
1
Rob Roy frae the Highlands cameDoun to our Lowland border;
It was to steal a lady away,
To haud 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.
5
‘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'll 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 drestAs 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 rescúe her.
12
Over rugged hills and dalesThey rode; the lady fainted;
Cried, Woe be to my cursed gold
That has such roads invented!
13
As they came in by Drimmen townAnd 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'll 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 countrý, lady.
23
‘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
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'll 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'll gar the piper play,
And then we'll 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.’
ROB ROY—L
[_]
From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, now belonging to Mr Macmath. The paper on which it is written has the water-mark 1822.
1
Rob Roy's from the Highlands comeDown to the Lowland border,
255
To keep his house in order.
2
As he came in by Blackhill gate,Twenty men his arms did carry,
And he has stole a fair lady away,
On purpose hir to marry.
3
No tidings came unto the house,Nor none went in before him,
Or else she had been run away,
For she did still abhor him.
4
But with his men he surunded the house,Himself went in unto hir,
And when that he had found her out
He profest how much he lovt hir.
5
‘O wilt thou be my dear?’ he says,‘O wilt thou be my hony?
O wilt thou be my wedded wife?
For I love you far better than ony.’
6
‘I will not be your dear,’ she says,‘I will not be your honey,
I will not be your wedded wife;
You love me for my money.’
7
But he hir drew amongst his crew,She holding by hir mother;
With doleful cries and watry eyes
The parted from each other.
8
He gave hir no time for to dressAs brides do when the marry,
But fast he hurried hir away,
And rowd hir in his plaidy.
9
He set hir on a milk-white steed,Himself lept on behind hir,
And he has carried hir away,
Hir friends the could not find hir.
10
The lady's cries were oftimes heard,But none durst venture to hir;
She gaurded was on every side,
Hir friends could not rescue hir.
11
As the went over hills and rocks,The lady oftimes fainted;
Cries, Wo be to my curst mony,
These roads to me invented.
12
As the came in by Drummond townAnd at Bachannan tarried,
He bought to her a cloak and gown,
Yet wad she not be married.
13
And when she came the priest beforeHe askd if she would marry,
But the parson's zeal it was so hot
For her will he did not tarry.
14
Four held hir up before the priest,Tow laid hir in hir bed, O,
But still she cried, with watry eyes,
When she was by him laid O.
15
‘Now you'r to the Highlands come,Out of your native clime, lady,
Never think of going back,
But tak it for your hame, lady.
16
‘Be content, be content,Be content to stay, lady,
Now you are my wedded wife,
Until your dying day, lady.
17
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,McGregor was his name, lady,
And all the country where he dwelt
None could exceed his fame, lady.
18
‘I'll be kind, I'll be kind,I'll be kind to thee, lady,
A' thy kindred for thy sake
Shall truly favoured be, lady.
19
‘My father reignd as Highland king,And ruled at his will, lady,
There was nether lord nor duke
Durst do him ony ill, lady.
20
‘Ay through time, ay through time,Ay through time was he, lady,
Filled was w[ith] sweet revenge
On a' his enemys, lady.
21
‘He was a hedge about his friends,A heckle till his foes, lady,
And every ane that did him rang,
He took them oer the nose, lady.
22
‘I'm as bold, I'm as bold,[As bold] as forest boar, lady,
Every ane that does thee rang
Shall feell my stell claymore, lady.
23
‘Neer a man from Highlands cameThat ever did him dare, lady,
But if those persons did escape
He sized upon there gear, lady.
Ay through time, etc.
24
‘My father dealt in horse and cows,But thou in goats and sheep, lady,
Thre and twenty thousand merk
Makes me a man complete, lady.
Be content, etc.
25
‘Of all the exploits my father didI do him now outshine, lady;
He never took a prize in's life
With sic a face as thine, lady.’
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