Appendix

Appendix

THE KING OF SCOTS AND ANDREW BROWNE

A new Ballad, declaring the great treason conspired against the young King of Scots, and how one Andrew Browne, an Englishman, which was the king’s chamberlaine, preuented the same. To the tune of Milfield, or els to Greenesleeues.

This piece, which is contained in a collection of ballads and proclamations in the library of the Society of Antiquaries, London, is signed W. Elderton, and was “imprinted at London for Yarathe Iames, dvvelling in Nevvgate Market, ouer against Christes Church.” It was licensed to James, May 30, 1581: Arber II, 393. Reprinted by Percy, Reliques, 1765, II, 204; here from the original. There is an imperfect and incorrect copy in the Percy MS., p. 273; Hales and Furnivall, II, 265.

Morton was beheaded only three days after these verses were licensed, and had been in durance for several months before at the castle of Edinburgh. Elderton cannot be supposed to have the last news from Scotland, and he was not a man to keep his compositions by him nine years. The exhortation of Morton to his confederate, Douglas, in the last stanza but one is divertingly misplaced. The fictions of the privie banket and the selling of the king beyond seas are of the same mint as those in the ballad.

Jesus, God! what a griefe is this, That princes subiects cannot be true, But still the deuill hath some of his Will play their parts, whatsoeuer ensue; Forgetting what a greeuous thing It is to offend the annointed kinge. Alas for woe! why should it be so? This makes a sorowfull heigh ho.

In Scotland is a bonie kinge, As proper a youthe as neede to be, Well giuen to euery happy thing That can be in a kinge to see; Yet that vnluckie countrie still Hath people giuen to craftie will. Alas for woe! etc.

On Whitson eue it so befell A posset was made to give the kinge, Whereof his ladie-nurse hard tell, And that it was a poysoned thing. She cryed, and called piteouslie, ‘Now helpe, or els the king shall die!’ Alas for woe! etc.

One Browne, that was an English man, And hard the ladies piteous crye, Out with his sword, and besturd him than Out of the doores in haste to flie; But all the doores were made so fast, Out of a window he got at last. Alas for woe! etc.

He met the bishop comming fast, Hauing the posset in his hande; The sight of Browne made him agast, Who bad him stoutly staie and stand. With him were two that ranne away, For feare that Browne would make a fray. Alas for woe! etc.

‘Bishop,’ quoth Browne, ‘what hast thou there?’ ‘Nothing at all, my freend,’ sayde he, ‘But a posset to make the king good cheere.’ ‘Is it so?’ sayd Browne, ‘that will I see. First I will haue thy selfe begin, Before thou goe any further in; Be it weale or woe, it shall be so.’ This makes a sorrowfull heigh ho.

The bishop saide, Browne, I doo know Thou art a young man poore and bare; Liuings on thee I will bestowe; Let me go on, take thee no care. ‘No, no,’ quoth Browne, ‘I will not be A traitour for all Christiantie. Happe weal or woe, it shall be so: Drinke now, with a sorrowfull heigh ho.’

The bishop dranke, and by and by His belly burst and he fell downe: A iust reward for his traytery. ‘This was a posset in deede!’ quoth Browne. He serched the bishop, and found the keyes To come to the kinge when he did please. Alas for woe! etc.

As soone as the king gat word of this, He humbly fell vppon his knee, And praysed God that he did misse To tast of that extremity: For that he did perceaue and know His clergie would betray him so. Alas for woe! etc.

‘Alas,’ he said, ‘vnhappy realme! My father and godfather slaine, My mother banished, O extreame Vnhappy fate, and bitter bayne! And now like treason wrought for me. What more vnhappy realme can be!’ Alas for woe! etc.

The king did call his nurse to his grace, And gave her twentie pound a yeere; And trustie Browne to, in like case, He knighted him, with gallant geere, And gaue him . . . liuings great, For dooing such a manly feat As he did sho[w]e, to the bishops woe, Which made, etc.

When all this treason don and past Tooke not effect of traytery, Another treason at the last They sought against his Maiestie; How they might make their kinge away By a priuie banket on a daye. Alas for woe! etc.

Wherat they ment to sell the king Beyonde the seas, it was decreede: Three noble earles heard of this thing, And did preuent the same with speede. For a letter came, with such a charme, That they should doo they[r] king no harme, For further woe, if they did so; Which made a sorrowfull heigh ho.

The Earle Mourton told the Douglas then, ‘Take heede you doo not offend the kinge: But shew your selues like honest men, Obediently in euery thing; For his godmother will not see Her noble childe misvsde to be With any woe; for if it be so, She will make a sorrowfull heigh ho’

God graunt all subiects may be true, In England, Scotland, and euerie where, That no such daunger may ensue, To put the prince or state in feare; That God, the highest king, may see Obedience as it ought to be. In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so! To auoide the sorrowfull heigh ho.

181

THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY

#A.# ‘The Bonny Earl of Murray,’ Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, 11th ed., London, 1750, p. 356 (vol. iv).

#B.# ‘The Bonnie Earl o Murray,’ Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 11.

#A# is not in the ninth edition of the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1733, but may be in the tenth (1736? 1740?), which I have not seen. It is printed in Percy’s Reliques, 1765, II, 210, and in many subsequent collections: Herd’s Scots Songs, 1769, p. 32; Ritson’s Scottish Songs, 1794, II, 29; Johnson’s Museum, No 177; etc.

James Stewart, son of Sir James Stewart of Doune, became Earl of Murray in consequence of his marriage with the oldest daughter and heiress of the Regent Murray. “He was a comely personage, of a great stature, and strong of body like a kemp.”[289] There was a violent hostility between Murray and the Earl of Huntly. The occurrence which is the subject of the ballad may be narrated in the least space by citing the account given by Spottiswood. After his assault on Holyrood House in December (or September), 1591, “Bothwell went into the north, looking to be supplied by the Earl of Murray, his cousin-german; which the king suspecting, Andrew Lord Ochiltrie was sent to bring Murray unto the south, of purpose to work a reconcilement betwixt him and Huntly. But a rumor being raised in the mean while that the Earl of Murray was seen in the palace with Bothwell on the night of the enterprise, the same was entertained by Huntly (who waited then at court) to make him suspected of the king, and prevailed so far as he did purchase a commission to apprehend and bring Murray to his trial. The nobleman, not fearing that any such course should be used, was come to Donibristle, a house situated on the north side of Forth, and belonging to his mother the lady Doune. Huntly, being advertised of his coming, and how he lay there secure, accompanied only with the Sheriff of Murray and a few of his own retinue, went thither and beset the house, requiring him to render. The Earl of Murray refusing to put himself in the hands of his enemy, after some defence made, wherein the sheriff was killed, fire was set to the house, and they within forced by the violence of the smoke and flame to come forth. The earl staid a great space after the rest, and, the night falling down, ventured among his enemies, and, breaking through the midst of them, did so far outrun them all as they supposed he was escaped; yet searching him among the rocks, he was discovered by the tip of his head-piece, which had taken fire before he left the house, and unmercifully slain. The report went that Huntly’s friends, fearing he should disclaim the fact (for he desired rather to have taken him alive), made him light from his horse and give some strokes to the dead corpse.... The death of the nobleman was universally lamented, and the clamors of the people so great ... that the king, not esteeming it safe to abide at Edinburgh, removed with the council to Glasgow, where he remained until Huntly did enter himself in ward in Blackness, as he was charged. But he staid not there many days, being dimitted, upon caution, to answer before the justice whensoever he should be called. The corpses of the Earl and Sheriff of Murray were brought to the church of Leith in two coffins, and there lay divers months unburied, their friends refusing to commit their bodies to the earth till the slaughter was punished. Nor did any man think himself so much interested in that fact as the Lord Ochiltrie, who had persuaded the Earl of Murray to come south; whereupon he fell afterwards away to Bothwell, and joined with him for revenge of the murder.”

This outrage was done in the month of February, 1592. Huntly sheltered himself under the king’s commission, and was not punished. He was no doubt a dangerous man to discipline, but the king, perhaps because he believed Murray to be an abettor of Bothwell, showed no disposition that way.

According to Sir James Balfour, “the queen, more rashly than wisely, some few days before had commended” Murray, “in the king’s hearing, with too many epithets of a proper and gallant man.” Balfour may have had gossip, or he may have had a ballad, for his authority (see #A# 5); the suggestion deserves no attention.[290]

In #B# the Countess of Murray is treated as the sister of Huntly.

#A# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 8, p. 52; by Herder, II, 71. #B# by Arndt, Blütenlese, p. 196.

A

Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, 1763, p. 356.

1 Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands, Oh where have you been? They have slain the Earl of Murray, And they layd him on the green.

2 ‘Now wae be to thee, Huntly! And wherefore did you sae? I bade you bring him wi you, But forbade you him to slay.’

3 He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he might have been a king!

4 He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the ba; And the bonny Earl of Murray Was the flower amang them a’.

5 He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the glove; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he was the Queen’s love!

6 Oh lang will his lady Look oer the castle Down, Eer she see the Earl of Murray Come sounding thro the town! Eer she, etc.

B

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 11; from recitation.

1 ‘Open the gates, and let him come in; He is my brother Huntly, he’ll do him nae harm.’

2 The gates they were opent, they let him come in, But fause traitor Huntly, he did him great harm.

3 He’s ben and ben, and ben to his bed, And with a sharp rapier he stabbed him dead.

4 The lady came down the stair, wringing her hands: ‘He has slain the Earl o Murray, the flower o Scotland.’

5 But Huntly lap on his horse, rade to the king: ‘Ye’re welcome hame, Huntly, and whare hae ye been?

6 ‘Whare hae ye been? and how hae ye sped?’ ‘I’ve killed the Earl o Murray, dead in his bed.’

7 ‘Foul fa you, Huntly! and why did ye so? You might have taen the Earl o Murray, and saved his life too.’

8 ‘Her bread it’s to bake, her yill is to brew; My sister’s a widow, and sair do I rue.

9 ‘Her corn grows ripe, her meadows grow green, But in bonny Dinnibristle I darena be seen.’

182

THE LAIRD O LOGIE

#A.# ‘The Laird o Logie,’ Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 128. The same, with the insertion of one stanza from recitation, Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 56.

#B.# ‘The young Laird of Ochiltrie,’ Herd, The Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 240; ed. 1776, I, 21. Repeated in Campbell MSS, I, 142.

#C.# ‘The Laird of Logie,’ a stall-copy printed by M. Randall, Stirling. The same in Motherwell’s MS., p. 504, and in Maidment’s Scotish Ballads and Songs, p. 8, ‘The young Laird of Logie.’

#D.# ‘Young Logie,’ Harris MS., fol. 16.

#E.# ‘The Laird o Logie, or, May Margaret,’ Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 56, one stanza.

Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, a madcap cousin of the king, had been guilty of a violent assault upon Holyrood House in December (or September), 1591, and in June, 1592, had “conspired the apprehension of the king’s person” while James was residing at Falkland. In August following he attempted to force himself into the king’s presence to “make his reconciliation.”

“The lairds of Burlie and Logie, delated to [have] had intelligence with the Earl Bothwell, were taken and apprehended by the Duke of Lennox the ninth day of August, 1592, and committed to ward within Dalkeith; where being examined they both confessed the same. Burley gat his life for telling the truth, but Logie, being a great courtier with the king, and dealer with the Earl Bothwell in Bothwell’s enterprise which should [have] been done at Dalkeith, to wit, that they should come in at the back gate through the yard and [have] gotten the king in their hands, the said laird of Logie was ordained to be tried by an assize and executed to the death. But the same night that he was examined, he escaped out by the means of a gentlewoman whom he loved, a Dane, who conveyed him out of his keepers’ hands, through the queen’s chamber, where his Majesty and the queen were lying in their beds, to a window in the backside of the place, where he went down upon a tow [rope], and shot three pistols in token of his onlouping [mounting his horse] where some of his servants, with the laird of Niddry, were awaiting him.” (Moysie’s Memoirs, p. 95.)

Another account may be added, from The Historie of King James the Sext (p. 253 f.):

“It fortuned that a gentleman called Wemyss of Logie, being also in credence at court, was delated as a trafficker with Francis Earl Bothwell; and he, being examined before king and council, confessed his accusation to be of verity; that sundry times he had spoken with him, expressly against the king’s inhibition proclaimed in the contrary; which confession he subscribed with his hand....

“Queen Anne, our noble princess, was served with divers gentlewomen of her own country, and namely with one called Mistress Margaret Twynstoun, to whom this gentleman, Wemyss of Logie, bore great honest affection, tending to the godly band of marriage; the which was honestly requited by the said gentlewoman, yea, even in his greatest mister (need). For how soon she understood the said gentleman to be in distress, and apparently by his confession, to be punisht to the death, and she having privilege to lie in the queen’s chamber that same very night of his accusation, where the king was also reposing that same night, she came forth of the door privily, both the princes being then at quiet rest, and past to the chamber where the said gentleman was put in custody to certain of the guard, and commanded them that immediately he should be brought to the king and queen; whereunto they giving sure credence obeyed. But how soon she was come back to the chamber-door, she desired the watches to stay till he should come forth again; and so she closed the door and conveyed the gentleman to a window, where she ministered a long cord unto him to convey himself down upon, and so, by her good charitable help, he happily escaped, by the subtlety of love.”

Calderwood gives the following account: “Upon Monday the seventh of August, the king being in Dalkeith, the young laird of Logie and Burlie promised to Bothwell to bring him in before the king to seek his pardon. The king was forewarned, and Bothwell, howbeit brought in quietly within the castle, was conveyed out again. Burlie was accused and confessed; Logie denied, and therefore would have suffered trial. The night before, one of the queen’s dames, Mistress Margaret, a Dutchwoman, came to the guard and desired that he might be suffered to come to the queen, who had something to inquire of him. Two of the guard brought him to the king’s chamber-door, and staid upon his coming forth, but she conveyed him in the mean time out at a window in a pair of sheets.... Logie married the gentlewoman after, when he was received into the king’s favor again.”[291] Logie, according to Calderwood, was “a varlet of the king’s chamber.”

Spottiswood says: John Weymis younger of Logie, gentleman of his Majesty’s chamber, and in great favor both with the king and queen, was discovered to have the like dealing with Bothwell, and, being committed to the keeping of the guard, escaped by the policy of one of the Dutch maids, with whom he entertained a secret love. The gentlewoman, named Mistress Margaret Twinslace, coming one night, whilst the king and queen were in bed, to his keepers, shewed that the king called for the prisoner, to ask of him some question. The keepers, suspecting nothing, for they knew her to be the principal maid in the chamber, conveyed him to the door of the bed-chamber, and making a stay without, as they were commanded, the gentlewoman did let him down at a window, by a cord that she had prepared. The keepers, waiting upon his return, staid there till the morning, and then found themselves deceived. This, with the manner of the escape, ministered great occasion of laughter; and not many days after, the king being pacified by the queen’s means, he was pardoned, and took to wife the gentlewoman who had in this sort hazarded her credit for his safety.[292]

The lady, called by Calderwood and Spottiswood a Dutchwoman, but rightly by Moysie a Dane, was one of a train of her countrywomen who attended Queen Anne when she came to Scotland in May, 1590. She is called Mistress Margaret Vinstar in a letter of Robert Bowes to Lord Burghley of August 12, 1592;[293] Margaret Weiksterne in a charter dated 25th December, 1594.[294]

Young Logie cannot have received a complete pardon within a few days of his escape. At a council meeting, September 14, 1592, it is ordered that Wemyss of Logie the younger, having failed to appear this day to answer touching the ‘intercommuning and having intelligence with Francis, sometime Earl Bothwell,’ be denounced rebel.[295]

#A.# Young Logie is a prisoner, in Carmichael’s[296] keeping, and May Margaret, who is enamored of him, is weeping for his expected death. The queen can do nothing, and tells her that she must go to the king himself to beg the life of her lover. She goes, accordingly, but gets an ill answer: all the gold in Scotland shall not save Young Logie. In this strait she steals the king’s comb and the queen’s knife, and sends them to Carmichael as tokens that Logie is to be discharged. She provides the young man with money, and gives him a pair of pistols, which he is to fire in sign that he is at liberty. The king hears the ‘volley’ from his bed, and by his peculiar sagacity recognizes the shot of Young Logie. He sends for Carmichael, and learning that the prisoner was set free in virtue of a royal token, says, You will make his place good tomorrow. Carmichael hurries to Margaret, and wants a word with Logie. Margaret, with a laugh, tells him that the bird is flown. The young pair severally take ship and are married.

In #B#, the queen, instead of referring Margaret to the king as the only resource, herself undertakes to save the young man’s life. She asks it of her consort as her first boon; the king makes her the same answer which he gives Margaret in #A#, All the gold in Scotland will not buy mercy. Margaret, in desperation, wishes to kill herself, but the queen will put her in a better way to save her lover. The queen steals the prison-keys, and the story proceeds as before. The king threatens to hang all his gaolers, to the number of thirty and three. The gaolers plead that they received the keys (which are also thirty and three) with a strict command to enlarge the prisoner. The queen says that, if the gaolers are to hang, a beginning must be made with her.

#B# substitutes Ochiltrie for Logie. Andrew Stewart, Lord of Ochiltrie, was an active partisan of Bothwell (see the preceding ballad), and at a council-meeting on May 2, 1594 (the same meeting at which a caution of three hundred merks was required for Young Logie), was ordered to be denounced rebel for not appearing to answer touching his “tressounable attemptattis”; that is, for having been Bothwell’s main helper in the Raid of Leith, April 3 preceding.[297] So far his case resembles Young Logie’s, and it may be that the two became confounded in tradition earlier than the middle of the eighteenth century, about which time #B# was taken down. But an interchange of names is of the commonest occurrence in traditional ballads, and perhaps Ochiltrie’s appearance here no more requires to be accounted for than his figuring, as he does, in one of the versions of ‘The Broom of Cowdenknows.’

Although the queen had no hand in the freeing of Young Logie, and is not known even to have winked at it, she stood by Mistress Margaret, and refused to give her up when requested.[298]

#C# agrees with #B# as to the part taken by the queen in the rescue. There are but three keepers, and presumably but three keys to steal from under the king’s head, and the queen sends her wedding-ring with the keys, as a warrant to the keepers. In 5, Anne is queen of England as well as queen of Scotland; but we cannot expect that a stall-ballad of this century should be nice about a matter of eleven years.

The offence for which Young Logie is to die in #D# is the stealing of a kiss “from the queen’s marie,” which shows a high appreciation of the discipline at James’s court. The queen counterfeits the king’s hand and steals his right glove, and sends the forged paper and the glove to “Pitcairn’s walls” as authority for the liberation of the prisoner. The king, looking over his castle-wall, sees Young Logie approaching, and his exclamation at the sight brings the queen to an instantaneous confession of what she has done. The king very good-naturedly overlooks the offence and absolves the lover for whom it was committed.

Translated from Motherwell by Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 73.

A

Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 128, “as recited by a gentleman residing near Biggar.”

1 I will sing, if ye will hearken, If ye will hearken unto me; The king has taen a poor prisoner, The wanton laird o Young Logie.

2 Young Logie’s laid in Edinburgh chapel, Carmichael’s the keeper o the key; And May Margaret’s lamenting sair, A’ for the love of Young Logie.

3 ‘Lament, lament na, May Margaret, And of your weeping let me be; For ye maun to the king himsell, To seek the life of Young Logie.’

4 May Margaret has kilted her green cleiding, And she has curld back her yellow hair: ‘If I canna get Young Logie’s life, Farewell to Scotland for evermair!’

5 When she came before the king, She knelit lowly on her knee: ‘O what’s the matter, May Margaret? And what needs a’ this courtesie?’

6 ‘A boon, a boon, my noble liege, A boon, a boon, I beg o thee, And the first boon that I come to crave Is to grant me the life of Young Logie.’

7 ‘O na, O na, May Margaret, Forsooth, and so it mauna be; For a’ the gowd o fair Scotland Shall not save the life of Young Logie.’

8 But she has stown the king’s redding-kaim, Likewise the queen her wedding knife, And sent the tokens to Carmichael, To cause Young Logie get his life.

9 She sent him a purse o the red gowd, Another o the white monie; She sent him a pistol for each hand, And bade him shoot when he gat free.

10 When he came to the Tolbooth stair, There he let his volley flee; It made the king in his chamber start, Een in the bed where he might be.

11 ‘Gae out, gae out, my merrymen a’, And bid Carmichael come speak to me; For I’ll lay my life the pledge o that That yon’s the shot o Young Logie.’

12 When Carmichael came before the king, He fell low down upon his knee; The very first word that the king spake Was, Where’s the laird of Young Logie?

13 Carmichael turnd him round about, I wot the tear blinded his ee: ‘There came a token frae your Grace Has taen away the laird frae me.’

14 ‘Hast thou playd me that, Carmichael? And hast thou playd me that?’ quoth he; ‘The morn the Justice Court’s to stand, And Logie’s place ye maun supplie.’

15 Carmichael’s awa to Margaret’s bower, Even as fast as he may dree: ‘O if Young Logie be within, Tell him to come and speak with me.’

16 May Margaret turnd her round about, I wot a loud laugh laughed she: ‘The egg is chippd, the bird is flown, Ye’ll see nae mair of Young Logie.’

17 The tane is shipped at the pier of Leith, The tother at the Queen’s Ferrie, And she’s gotten a father to her bairn, The wanton laird of Young Logie.

B

Herd, The Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 240.

1 O listen, gude peopell, to my tale, Listen to what I tel to thee; The king has taiken a poor prisoner, The wanton laird of Ochiltrie.

2 When news came to our guidly queen, Sche sicht, and said right mournfullie, ‘O what will cum of Lady Margret! Wha beirs sick luve to Ochiltrie.’

3 Lady Margret tore hir yellow hair When as the queen tald hir the saim: ‘I wis that I had neir bin born, Nor neir had knawn Ochiltrie’s naim!’

4 ‘Fie, na!’ quoth the queen, ‘that maunna be; Fie, na! that maunna be; I’ll fynd ye out a better way To saif the lyfe of Ochiltrie.’

5 The queen sche trippit up the stair, And lowlie knielt upon hir knie: ‘The first boon which I cum to craive Is the life of gentel Ochiltrie.’

6 ‘O iff you had askd me castels or towirs, I wad hae gin thaim, twa or thrie; Bot a’ the monie in fair Scotland Winna buy the lyfe of Ochiltrie.’

7 The queen sche trippit down the stair, And down she gade richt mournfullie: ‘It’s a’ the monie in fair Scotland Winna buy the lyfe of Ochiltrie!’

8 Lady Margaret tore her yellow hair When as the queen tald hir the saim: ‘I’ll tak a knife and end my lyfe, And be in the grave as soon as him!’

9 ‘Ah, na! Fie, na!’ quoth the queen, ‘Fie, na! Fie, na! this maunna be; I’ll set ye on a better way To loose and set Ochiltrie frie.’

10 The queen sche slippit up the stair, And sche gaid up richt privatlie, And sche has stoun the prison-keys, And gane and set Ochiltrie frie.

11 And sche’s gien him a purse of gowd, And another of whyt monie; Sche’s gien him twa pistoles by ’s syde, Saying to him, Shute, when ye win frie.

12 And when he cam to the queen’s window, Whaten a joyfou shute gae he! ‘Peace be to our royal queen, And peace be in hir companie!’

13 ‘O whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth the king, ‘Whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth he; ‘Whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth the king; ‘I think it’s the voyce of Ochiltrie.

14 ‘Call to me a’ my gaolours, Call thaim by thirtie and by thrie; Whairfoir the morn, at twelve a clock, It’s hangit schall they ilk ane be.’

15 ‘O didna ye send your keyis to us? Ye sent thaim be thirtie and be thrie, And wi thaim sent a strait command To set at lairge young Ochiltrie.’

16 ‘Ah, na! Fie, na!’ quoth the queen, ‘Fie, my dear luve, this maunna be! And iff ye’re gawn to hang thaim a’, Indeed ye maun begin wi me.’

17 The tane was schippit at the pier of Leith, The ither at the Queen’s Ferrie, And now the lady has gotten hir luve, The winsom laird of Ochiltrie.

C

A stall-copy, printed by M. Randall, Stirling.

1 The young laird of Logie is to prison cast; Carmichael’s the keeper of the key; Lady Margaret, the queen’s cousin, is very sick, And it’s all for love of Young Logie.

2 She’s into the queen’s chamber gone, She has kneeld low down on her knee; Says she, You must go to the king yourself; It’s all for a pardon to Young Logie.

3 The queen is unto the king’s chamber gone, She has kneeld low down on her knee: ‘O what is the matter, my gracious queen? And what means all this courtesie?

4 ‘Have I not made thee queen of fair Scotland? The queen of England I trow thou be; Have not I made thee my wedded wife? Then what needs all this courtesie?’

5 ‘You have made me queen of [fair] Scotland, The queen of England I surely be; Since you have made me your wedded wife, Will you grant a pardon for Young Logie?’

6 The king he turned him right round about, I think an angry man was he: ‘The morrow, before it is twelve o’clock, O hangd shall the laird of Logie be.’

7 The queen she’s into her chamber gone, Amongst her maries, so frank and free; ‘You may weep, you may weep, Margaret,’ she says, ‘For hanged must the laird of Logie be.’

8 She has torn her silken scarf and hood, And so has she her yellow hair: ‘Now fare you well, both king and queen, And adieu to Scotland for ever mair!’

9 She has put off her goun of silk, And so has she her gay clothing: ‘Go fetch me a knife, and I’ll kill myself, Since the laird of Logie is not mine.’

10 Then out bespoke our gracious queen, And she spoke words most tenderlie; ‘Now hold your hand, Lady Margaret,’ she said, ‘And I’ll try to set Young Logie free.’

11 She’s up into the king’s chamber gone, And among his nobles so free; ‘Hold away, hold away!’ says our gracious king, ‘No more of your pardons for Young Logie.

12 ‘Had you but askd me for houses and land, I would have given you castles three; Or anything else shall be at your command, But only a pardon for Young Logie.’

13 ‘Hold your hand now, my sovereign liege, And of your anger let it be; For the innocent blood of Lady Margret It will rest on the head of thee and me.’

14 The king and queen are gone to their bed, But as he was sleeping so quietly, She has stole the keys from below his head, And has sent to set Young Logie free.

15 Young Logie he’s on horseback got, Of chains and fetters he’s got free; As he passd by the king’s window, There he has fired vollies three.

16 The king he awakend out of his sleep, Out of his bed came hastilie; Says, I’ll lay all my lands and rents That yonder’s the laird of Logie free.’

17 The king has sent to the prison strong, He has calld for his keepers three; Says, How does all your prisoners? And how does the young laird of Logie?

18 ‘Your Majesty sent me your wedding-ring, With your high command to set him free;’ ‘Then tomorrow, before that I eat or drink, I surely will hang you keepers three.’

19 Then out bespoke our gracious queen, And she spoke words most tenderlie; ‘If ever you begin to hang a man for this, Your Majesty must begin with me.’

20 The one took shipping at [the pier of] Leith, The other at the Queen’s Ferrie; Lady Margaret has gotten the man she loves, I mean the young laird of Logie.

D

Harris MS., fol. 16; from Mrs Harris’s recitation.

1 Pretty is the story I hae to tell, Pretty is the praisin o itsel, An pretty is the prisner oor king’s tane, The rantin young laird o Logie.

2 Has he brunt? or has he slain? Or has he done any injurie? Oh no, no, he’s done nothing at all, But stown a kiss frae the queen’s marie.

3 Ladie Margaret cam doon the stair, Wringin her hands an tearin her hair; Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam, Aye to see Young Logie dee!

4 ‘Had your tongue noo, Lady Margaret, An a’ your weepin lat a bee! For I’ll gae to the king my sell, An plead for life to Young Logie.’

5 ‘First whan I to Scotland cam, You promised to gie me askens three; The first then o these askens is Life for the young laird o Logie.’

6 ‘If you had asked house or lands, They suld hae been at your command; But the morn, ere I taste meat or drink, High hanged sall Young Logie be.’

7 Lady Margaret cam doon the stair, Wringin her hands an tearin her hair; Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam, A’ to see Young Logie dee!

8 ‘Haud your tongue noo, Lady Margaret, An a’ your weepin lat a bee! For I’ll counterfiet the king’s hand-write, An steal frae him his richt hand gloe, An send them to Pitcairn’s wa’s, A’ to lat Young Logie free.’

9 She counterfieted the king’s hand-write, An stole frae him his richt hand gloe, An sent them to Pitcairn’s wa’s, A’ to let Young Logie free.

10 The king luikit owre his castle-wa, Was luikin to see what he cald see: ‘My life to wad an my land to pawn, Yonder comes the young laird o Logie!’

11 ‘Pardon, oh pardon! my lord the king, Aye I pray you pardon me; For I counterfieted your hand-write, An stole frae you your richt hand gloe, An sent them to Pitcairn’s wa’s, A’ to set Young Logie free.’

12 ‘If this had been done by laird or lord, Or by baron of high degree, I’se mak it sure, upon my word, His life suld hae gane for Young Logie.

13 ‘But since it is my gracious queen, A hearty pardon we will gie, An for her sake we’ll free the loon, The rantin young laird o Logie.’

E

Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 56, the third stanza; from recitation.

May Margaret sits in the queen’s bouir, Knicking her fingers ane be ane, Cursing the day that she ere was born, Or that she ere heard o Logie’s name.

* * * * *

#B.#

6^1. and towirs in ed. 1776.

Qu in what, etc., is rendered by w, and z in ze, etc., by y.

#C.#

Maidment’s copy has some slight variations, such as often occur in different issues of stall-prints.

1^3. very very.

1^4. the love.

3^1. into.

4^2. you be.

6^4. It’s hanged.

7^1. her own.

7^2. and so free.

7^3. Lady Margret.

8^1. tore.

8^2, 9^2. she has.

8^3. ye.

11^1. up to.

14^2. beds.

18^2. commands.

19^3. you do hang.

20^1. at the pier of.

#D.#

2^1. Perhaps brent.

6^1. Perhaps houses.

10^2. Perhaps culd.

183

WILLIE MACINTOSH

#A.# ‘Burning of Auchindown.’ #a.# The Thistle of Scotland, p. 106. b. Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 248.

#B.# ‘Willie Mackintosh,’ Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 89.

The murder of the “Bonny Earl of Murray” was the occasion of serious commotions in the North Highlands. Towards the end of the year 1592, the Macintoshes of the Clan Chattan, who of all the faction of Murray “most eagerly endeavored to revenge his death,” invaded the estates of the Earl of Huntly, and killed four gentlemen of the surname of Gordon. Huntly retaliated, “and rade into Pettie (which was then in the possession of the Clan Chattan), where he wasted and spoiled all the Clan Chattan’s lands, and killed divers of them. But as the Earl of Huntly had returned home from Pettie, he was advertised that William Macintosh with eight hundred of Clan Chattan were spoiling his lands of Cabrach: whereupon Huntly and his uncle Sir Patrick Gordon of Auchindown, with some few horsemen, made speed towards the enemy, desiring the rest of his company to follow him with all possible diligence, knowing that if once he were within sight of them they would desist from spoiling the country. Huntly overtook the Clan Chattan before they left the bounds of Cabrach, upon the head of a hill called Stapliegate, where, without staying for the rest of his men, he invaded them with these few he then had. After a sharp conflict he overthrew them, chased them, killed sixty of their ablest men, and hurt William Macintosh with divers others of his company.”[299]

Two William Macintoshes are confounded in the ballad. The burning of Auchindown is attributed, rightly or wrongly, to an earlier William, captain of the clan, who, in August, 1550, was formally convicted of conspiracy against the life of the Earl of Huntly, then lieutenant in the north, sentenced to lose his life and lands, and, despite a pledge to the contrary, executed shortly after by the Countess of Huntly.[300]

Auchindown castle is on the banks of the Fiddich, #B# 1. By Cairn Croom, #A# 4, is meant, I suppose, the noted Cairngorm mountain, at the southern extremity of Banffshire.

A

#a.# The Thistle of Scotland, p. 106, 1823. #b.# Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 248; from an Aberdeen newspaper of about 1815.

1 ‘Turn, Willie Macintosh, Turn, I bid you; Gin ye burn Auchindown, Huntly will head you.’

2 ‘Head me or hang me, That canna fley me; I’ll burn Auchendown, Ere the life lea me.’

3 Coming down Deeside, In a clear morning, Auchindown was in flame, Ere the cock-crawing.

4 But coming oer Cairn Croom, And looking down, man, I saw Willie Macintosh Burn Auchindown, man.

5 ‘Bonny Willie Macintosh, Whare left ye your men?’ ‘I left them in the Stapler, But they’ll never come hame.’

6 ‘Bonny Willie Macintosh, Whare now is your men?’ ‘I left them in the Stapler, Sleeping in their sheen.’

B

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 89, 1808, as recollected by a lady and communicated by Walter Scott.

1 As I came in by Fiddich-side, In a May morning, I met Willie Mackintosh, An hour before the dawning.

2 ‘Turn again, turn again, Turn again, I bid ye; If ye burn Auchindown, Huntly he will head ye.’

3 ‘Head me, hang me, That sall never fear me; I’ll burn Auchindown Before the life leaves me.’

4 As I came in by Auchindown, In a May morning, Auchindown was in a bleeze, An hour before the dawning.

* * * * *

5 Crawing, crawing, For my crowse crawing, I lost the best feather i my wing For my crowse crawing.

* * * * *

#A. b.#

1^2. Turn, turn.

1^3. If you.

2^2. That winna.

3 wanting.

4^1. But wanting.

After 4: Light was the mirk hour At the day-dawing, For Auchindoun was in flames Ere the cock-crawing.

5, 6 wanting.

184

THE LADS OF WAMPHRAY

Glenriddell MSS, XI, 34, 1791.

‘Lads of Wamphray, ane old ballad, sometimes called The Galiard,’ is the superscription in the manuscript. Printed in Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 208, 1802, II, 148, 1833; with the omission of 4 and 36, the insertion of four verses after 8, two transpositions, and some changes of language.

“The following song celebrates the skirmish, in 1593, betwixt the Johnstones and Crichtons, which led to the revival of the ancient quarrel betwixt Johnstone and Maxwell, and finally to the battle of Dryffe Sands, in which the latter lost his life. Wamphray is the name of a parish in Annandale. Lethenhall was the abode of Johnstone of Wamphray, and continued to be so till of late years. William Johnstone of Wamphray, called the Galliard, was a noted freebooter. A place near the head of Teviotdale retains the name of the Galliard’s Faulds (folds), being a valley, where he used to secrete and divide his spoil with his Liddesdale and Eskdale associates. His nom de guerre seems to have been derived from the dance called the galliard. The word is still used in Scotland to express an active, gay, dissipated character. Willie of the Kirkhill, nephew to the Galliard, and his avenger, was also a noted Border robber.”

“Leverhay, Stefenbiggen, Girth-head, etc., are all situated in the parish of Wamphray. The Biddes-burn, where the skirmish took place betwixt the Johnstones and their pursuers, is a rivulet which takes its course among the mountains on the confines of Nithesdale and Annandale. The Wellpath is a pass by which the Johnstones were retreating to their fastnesses in Annandale. Ricklaw-holm is a place upon the Evan water, which falls into the Annan below Moffat. Wamphray-gate was in these days an alehouse.” Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 208 ff., ed. 1802.

This affair is briefly noticed in the Historie of King James the Sext in the following terms: “Sum unbrydlit men of Johnestons ... hapnit to ryd a steiling in the moneth of Julij this present yeir of God 1593, in the lands and territoreis pertening to the Lord Sanquhar and the knyghtis of Drumlanryg, Lag and Closburne, upon the watter of Nyth; whare, attoure the great reaf and spulye that thay tuik away with violent hand, thay slew and mutilat a great nomber of men wha stude for defence of thair awin geir and to reskew the same from the hands of sik vicious revers.”[301] P. 297.

It is hard to determine whether the first eight stanzas of the ballad are anything more than a prelude, and whether 5, 7 note the customary practice of the Lads of Wamphray, or anticipate, as is done in 3, certain points in the story which follows. The gap after 8 is filled by Scott with verses which describe the Galliard as incapable of keeping his hands from another man’s horse, and as having gone to Nithsdale to steal Sim Crichton’s dun. The Galliard makes an unlucky selection from the Crichton stable, and takes a blind horse instead of the coveted dun. Under the impression that he has the right beast, he calls out to Sim to come out and see a Johnstone ride. The Crichtons mount for pursuit; the Galliard sees that they will be up with him, and tries to hide behind a willow-bush. Resistance is vain, for there is no other man by but Will of Kirkhill; entreaties and promises are bootless; the Crichtons hang the Galliard high. Will of Kirkhill vows to avenge his uncle’s death, and to this end goes back to Wamphray and raises a large band of riders, who proceed to Nithsdale and drive off the Crichtons’ cattle. On the return the Johnstones are followed or intercepted by the Crichtons; a fight ensues, and the Crichtons suffer severely. Will of Kirkhill boasts that he has killed a man for every finger of the Galliard. The Johnstones drive the Crichtons’ nout to Wamphray.[302]

There is a story, not sufficiently authenticated, that Lord Maxwell, while engaged in single combat with Johnstone, at the battle of Dryfesands, “was slain behind his back by the cowardly hands of Will of Kirkhill.” The New Statistical Account of Scotland, IV, 148, note[B].

1 Twixt the Girthhead and Langwood-end Livd the Galiard and Galiard’s men.

2 It is the lads of Lethenha, The greatest rogues among them a’.

3 It is the lads of Leverhay, That drove the Crichtons’ gier away.

4 It is the lads o the Kirkhill, The gay Galiard and Will o Kirkhill,

5 But and the lads o Stefenbiggin, They broke the house in at the riggin.

6 The lads o Fingland and Hellbackhill, They were neer for good, but aye for ill.

7 Twixt the Staywood Bass and Langside Hill, They stelld the broked cow and branded bull.

8 It is the lads o the Girthhead, The diel’s in them for pride and greed.

9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

10 The Galiard is to the stable gane; Instead of the Dun, the Blind he’s taen.

11 ‘Come out now, Simmy o the Side, Come out and see a Johnston ride!

12 ‘Here’s the boniest horse in a’Nithside, And a gentle Johnston aboon his hide.’

13 Simmy Crichton’s mounted then, And Crichtons has raised mony a ane.

14 The Galiard thought his horse had been fleet, But they did outstrip him quite out o sight.

15 As soon as the Galiard the Crichton he saw, Beyond the saugh-bush he did draw.

16 The Crichtons there the Galiard hae taen, And nane wi him but Willy alane.

17 ‘O Simmy, Simmy, now let me gang, And I vow I’ll neer do a Crichton wrang!

18 ‘O Simmy, Simmy, now let me be, And a peck o goud I’ll gie to thee!

19 ‘O Simmy, Simmy, let me gang, And my wife shall heap it wi her hand!’

20 But the Crichtons wadna let Willy bee, But they hanged him high upon a tree.

21 O think then Will he was right wae, When he saw his uncle guided sae.

22 ‘But if ever I live Wamphray to see, My uncle’s death revenged shall be!’

23 Back to Wamphray Willy’s gane, And riders has raised mony a ane.

24 Saying, My lads, if ye’ll be true, Ye’s a’be clad in the noble blue.

25 Back to Nidsdale they are gane, And away the Crichtons’ nout they hae taen.

26 As they came out at the Wallpath-head, The Crichtons bad them light and lead.

27 And when they came to the Biddess-burn, The Crichtons bad them stand and turn.

28 And when they came to the Biddess-strand, The Crichtons they were hard at hand.

29 But when they cam to the Biddess-law, The Johnstons bad them stand and draw.

30 Out then spake then Willy Kirkhill: ‘Of fighting, lads, ye’s hae your fill.’

31 Then off his horse Willy he lap, And a burnishd brand in his hand he took.

32 And through the Crichtons Willy he ran, And dang them down both horse and man.

33 O but these lads were wondrous rude, When the Biddess-burn ran three days blood!

34 ‘I think, my lads, we’ve done a noble deed; We have revengd the Galiard’s blood.

35 ‘For every finger o the Galiard’s hand, I vow this day I’ve killed a man.’

36 And hame for Wamphray they are gane, And away the Crichtons’ nout they’ve taen.

37 ‘Sin we’ve done na hurt, nor we’ll take na wrang, But back to Wamphray we will gang.’

38 As they came in at Evanhead, At Reaklaw-holm they spred abread.

39 ‘Drive on, my lads, it will be late; We’ll have a pint at Wamphray Gate.

40 ‘For where eer I gang, or eer I ride, The lads o Wamphr[a]y’s on my side.

41 ‘For of a’the lads that I do ken, The lads o Wamphr[a]y’s king o men.’

* * * * *

Not divided into stanzas in the MS. Scott makes stanzas of four lines.

3^1. Leuerhay.

After 8 Scott inserts:

For the Galliard, and the gay Galliard’s men, They neer saw a horse but they made it their ain.

The Galliard to Nithside is gane, To steal Sim Crichton’s winsome dun.

20^1. let Willy bee, in the text: or the Galiard, in the margin.

21^1. In the margin: Will of Kirkhill.

38^2. Breaklaw: changed in the MS. to Reaklaw.

185

DICK O THE COW

#a.# ‘An excelent old song cald Dick of the Cow.’ Percy Papers, 1775. #b.# Caw’s Poetical Museum, p. 22, 1784. #c.# Campbell, Albyn’s Anthology, II, 31, 1818.

#a# seems to have been communicated to Percy by Roger Halt in 1775. #b# was contributed to Caw’s Museum by John Elliot of Reidheugh, a gentleman, says Scott, well skilled in the antiquities of the western border. #c# was taken down “from the singing and recitation of a Liddesdale-man, namely, Robert Shortreed, sheriff-substitute of Roxburghshire, in the autumn of 1816;” but it differs from #b# in no important respect except the omission of thirteen stanzas, 17, 18, 24, 32, 35–38, 51, 52, 56–58.

Scott’s copy, I, 137, 1802, II, 63, 1833, is #c# with the deficient stanzas supplied from #b#. A copy in the Campbell MSS, I, 204, is #b#.

Ritson pointed out to Scott a passage in Nashe’s Have with you to Saffren Walden which shows that this ballad was popular before the end of the sixteenth century: “Dick of the Cow, that mad demi-lance northren borderer, who plaied his prizes with the lord Jockey so bravely,” 1596, in Grosart’s Nashe, III, 6.

An allusion to it likewise occurs in Parrot’s Laquei Ridiculosi, or Springes for Woodcocks, London, 1613, Epigr. 76.

Owenus wondreth, since he came to Wales, What the description of this isle should be, That nere had seen but mountains, hills, and dales; Yet would he boast, and stand on pedigree From Rice ap Richard, sprung from Dick a Cow; Be cod, was right gud gentleman, look ye now!

Scott’s Minstrelsy, II, 62, 1833.

In a list of books printed for and sold by P. Brooksby, 1688, occurs Dick-a-the-Cow, containing north-country songs: Ritson, in Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 223, 1833.

Two stanzas are cited in Pennant’s Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides in 1772, Part II, p. 276, ed. 1776.

Then Johnie Armstrong to Willie gan say, ‘Billie, a riding then will we; England and us have been long at feud; Perhaps we may hit on some bootie.’

Then they’re come on to Hutton-Ha; They rade that proper place about; But the laird he was the wiser man, For he had left na geir without.

Fair Johnie Armstrong[303] and Willie his brother, having lain long in, ride out on the chance of some booty. They come to Hutton Hall, but find no gear left without by the experienced laird, except six sheep, which they scorn to take. Johnie asks Willie who the man was that they last met, and learning that it was Dick o the Cow, a fool whom he knows to have three as good kine as are in Cumberland, says, These kine shall go with me to Liddesdale. They carry off Dick’s three kine, and also three coverlets from his wife’s bed. When daylight reveals the theft, Dick’s wife raises a wail; he bids her be still, he will bring her three cows for one. Dick goes to his master and makes his loss known, and asks leave to go to Liddesdale to steal; his troth is required that he will steal from none but those who have stolen from him. Dickie goes on to Puddingburn, where there are three and thirty Armstrongs, and complains to the Laird’s Jock of the wrong which Fair Johnie Armstrong and Willie have done him. Fair Johnie is for hanging Dick, Willie for slaying him, and another young man for tossing him in a sheet, beating him, and letting him go. The Laird’s Jock, who is a better fellow than the rest, tells Dick that if he will sit down he shall have a bit of his own cow. Dick observes that a key has been flung over the doorhead by lads who have come in late. With this key he opens the stable where are the Armstrongs’ three and thirty horses. He ties all but three with a triple knot,[304] leaps on one, takes another in his hand, and makes off. Fair Johnie discovers in the morning that his own horse and Willie’s have been stolen, borrows the Laird’s-Jock’s, which Dick (for improvement of the story) happens not to have tied, arms himself, and sets out in pursuit. Overtaking Dick on Canoby lee, Johnie sends a spear at him, which only pierces the innocent’s jerkin. Dick turns on Johnie, and has the good fortune to fell him with the pommel of his sword. He strips Johnie of armor and sword, takes the third horse, and goes home to his master, who threatens to hang him for his thieving. The fool plants himself upon the terms his master had made with him: he had stolen from none but those that had stolen from him. His having the Laird Jock’s horse requires explanation; but Dick is able to give such satisfaction on that point that his master offers twenty pound and one of his best milk-kye for the horse. Dick exacts and gets thirty, and makes the same bargain with his master’s brother for Fair Johnie Armstrong’s horse. So he goes back to his wife, and gives her threescore pound for her three coverlets, two kye as good as her three, and has the third horse over and above. But Dick sees that he cannot safely remain on the border after this reprisal upon the Armstrongs, and removes to Burgh (Brough) under Stainmoor, in the extreme south of Cumberland.[305]

Henry Lord Scroop of Bolton was warden of the West Marches for thirty years from 1563, and his son Thomas for the next ten years, down to the union of the crowns. Which of the two is intended in this ballad might be settled beyond question by identifying my lord’s brother, Ralph Scroop, Bailif Glazenberrie, or Glozenburrie, st. 54 f.; but the former is altogether more probable.

The Laird’s Jock, in the opinion of Mr R. B. Armstrong, was a son of Thomas of Mangerton, the elder brother of Gilnockie. There are notices of him from 1569 to 1599. In 1569 Archibald Armstrong of Mangerton declined to be pledge for John Armstrong, called the Lardis Jok, Reg. P. Council; in 1599 he and other principal Armstrongs executed a bond,[306] and he is mentioned (in what fashion will presently appear) at various intermediate dates.

Jock, the Laird’s son, an Armstrong of Liddesdale, had a brother called John,[307] MS. General Register House, 1569. (He is not called Fair John in any document besides the ballad.) In a later MS. there is an entry of the marriage of John Armstrong, called the Lord’s John. John Armstrong, son to the laird of Mangerton, is witness to two bonds in which John of the Syde is a party, in 1562, 1563: R. B. Armstrong, History of Liddesdale, etc., Appendix, pp. ciii, civ. In a London MS. the Lord’s John is said to have been executed.

The Laird’s Jock, his father the laird of Mangerton, Sim’s Thom, and their accomplices, are complained of in November, 1582, by Sir Simon Musgrave for burning of his barns, wheat, etc., worth £1,000 sterling: Nicolson and Burn, History of Westmoreland and Cumberland, I, xxxi. The commendation of the Laird’s Jock’s honesty in st. 47, as Scott says, seems but indifferently founded; “for in July, 1586, a bill was fouled against him, Dick of Dryup, and others, by the deputy of Bewcastle, at a warden-meeting, for four hundred head of cattle taken in open foray from the Drysike in Bewcastle; and in September, 1587, another complaint appears, at the instance of one Andrew Rutledge of the Nook, against the Laird’s Jock and his accomplices, for fifty kine and oxen, besides furniture to the amount of one hundred merks sterling:” Nicolson and Burn, as above. To be sure, we find the laird of Mangerton, on the next page, making complaints of the same kind against various persons, but it is to be feared that the Laird’s Jock, at least, did not keep to the innocent’s golden rule, ‘to steal frae nane but them that sta from thee.’ Sir Richard Maitland gives him his character:

Thay spuilye puire men of thair pakis, Thay leife tham nocht on bed nor bakis; Baith henne and cok, With reill and rok, The Lairdis Jok all with him takis. (MS.)

Hutton Hall, 3, being more than twenty miles from the border, seems remote for the Armstrongs’ first reconnaissance, and it is no wonder that Fair Johnie stickled at driving six sheep to such a distance. We might ask how Dick, who evidently lives near Carlisle (for, besides other reasons, he is intimately acquainted with the Armstrongs), should have been met so far from home.

Harribie, 14, mentioned also in ‘Kinmont Willie,’ was the place of execution at Carlisle.

Puddingburn House, 16, according to Chambers, Scottish Ballads, p. 48, was a strong place on the side of the Tinnis Hill, about three miles westward from the Syde (and therefore a very little further from the house of Mangerton), of which the ruins now serve for a sheepfold. A MS. cited by Mr R. B. Armstrong says: “Joke Armestronge, called the Lord’s Joke, dwelleth under Denys Hill besides Kyrsoppe in Tenisborne;” and in another MS. the Lord Jock of Tennesborne is stated to have lived a mile west from Kersopp-foote. The name Puddingburn has not been found on any map.[308]

Cannobei, 34, is on the east of the Esk, just above its juncture with the Liddel. Mattan, 52, 58 (Morton in #b#), is perhaps the small town a few miles east of Whitehaven. There were cattle-fairs at Arlochden, which is very nigh, in the early part of this century: Lysons, Cumberland, p. 10.

The Cow in Dick’s name can have no reference to his cattle, for then his style would have been Dick o the Kye. Cow may possibly denote the hut in which he lived; or bush, or broom.

Translated by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 15, p. 42.

1 Now Liddisdale has lain long in, Fa la There is no rideing there a ta; Fa la Their horse is growing so lidder and fatt That are lazie in the sta. Fa la la didle

2 Then Johnë Armstrang to Willie can say, Billie, a rideing then will we; England and us has been long at a feed; Perhaps we may hitt of some bootie.

3 Then they’r comd on to Hutton Hall, They rade that proper place about; But the laird he was the wiser man, For he had left nae gear without.

4 Then he had left nae gear to steal, Except six sheep upon a lee; Says Johnie, I’de rather in England die Before their six sheep good to Liddisdale with me.

5 ‘But how cald they the man we last w_i_t_h_ mett, Billie, as we came over the know?’ ‘That same he is an innocent fool, And some men calls him Dick o the Cow.’

6 ‘That fool has three as good kyne of his own As is in a’ Cumberland, billíe,’ quoth he: ‘Betide my life, betide my death, These three kyne shal go to Liddisdaile with me.’

7 Then they’re comd on to the poor fool’s house, And they have broken his wals so wide; They have loosd out Dick o the Cow’s kyne three, And tane three coerlets off his wife’s bed.

8 Then on the morn, when the day grew light, The shouts and crys rose loud and high: ‘Hold thy tongue, my wife,’ he says, ‘And of thy crying let me bee.

9 ‘Hald thy tongue, my wife,’ he says, ‘And of thy crying let me bee, And ay that where thou wants a kow, Good sooth that I shal bring the three.’

10 Then Dick’s comd on to lord and master, And I wate a drerie fool [was] he: ‘Hald thy tongue, my fool,’ he says, ‘For I may not stand to jest with thee.’

11 ‘Shame speed a your jesting, my lord,’ quo Dickie, ‘For nae such jesting grees with me; Liddesdaile has been in my house th_i_s last night, And they have tane my three kyne from me.

12 ‘But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwel, To be your poor fool and your leel, Unless ye give me leave, my lord, To go to Liddisdale and steal.’

13 ‘To give thee leave, my fool,’ he says, ‘Thou speaks against mine honour and me; Unless thou give me thy trouth and thy right hand Thou’l steal frae nane but them th_a_t sta from thee.’

14 ‘There is my trouth and my right hand; My head shal hing on Hairibie, I’le never crose Carlele sands again, If I steal frae a man but them th_a_t sta frae me.’

15 Dickie has tane leave at lord and master, And I wate a merrie fool was he; He has bought a bridle and a pair of new spurs, And has packed them up in his breek-thigh.

16 Then Dickie’s come on for Puddinburn, Even as fast as he may drie; Dickie’s come on for Puddinburn, Where there was thirty Armstrongs and three.

17 ‘What’s this comd on me!’ quo Dickë, ‘What meakle wae’s th_i_s happend on me,’ quo he, ‘Where here is but ae innocent fool, And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!’

18 Yet he’s comd up to the hall among th_e_m all; So wel he became his courtisie: ‘Well may ye be, my good Laird’s Jock! But the deil bless all your companie.

19 ‘I’m come to plain of your man Fair Johnie Armstrong, And syne his billie Willie,’ quo he; ‘How they have been in my house th_i_s last night, And they have tane my three ky frae me.’

20 Quo Johnie Armstrong, We’ll him hang; ‘Nay,’ thain quo Willie, ‘we’ll him slae;’ But up bespake another young man, We’le nit him in a four-nooked sheet, Give him his burden of batts, and lett him gae.

21 Then up bespake the good Laird’s Jock, The best falla in the companie: Fitt thy way down a little while, Dickë, And a peice of thine own cow’s hough I’l give to thee.

22 But Dicki’s heart it grew so great That never a bitt of it he dought to eat; But Dickie was warr of ane auld peat-house, Where there al the night he thought for to sleep.

23 Then Dickie was warr of that auld peat-house, Where there al the night he thought for to ly; And a’the prayers the poor fool prayd was, ‘I wish I had a mense for my own three kye!’

24 Then it was the use of Puddinburn, And the house of Mangertoun, all haile! These that came not at the first call They gott no more meat till the next meall.

25 The lads, that hungry and aevery was, Above the door-head they flang the key; Dickie took good notice to that; Says, There’s a bootie younder for me.

26 Then Dickie’s gane into the stable, Where there stood thirty horse and three; He has ty’d them a’with St Mary knot, All these horse but barely three.

27 He has ty’d them a’with St Mary knott, All these horse but barely three; He has loupen on one, taken another in his hand, And out at the door and gane is Dickie.

28 Then on the morn, when the day grew light, The shouts and cryes rose loud and high; ‘What’s that theife?’ quo the good Laird’s Jock; ‘Tel me the truth and the verity.

29 ‘What’s that theife?’ quo the good Laird’s Jock; ‘See unto me ye do not lie:’ ‘Dick o the Cow has been in the stable this last night, And has my brother’s horse and mine frae me.’

30 ‘Ye wad never be teld it,’ quo the Laird’s Jock; ‘Have ye not found my tales fu leel? Ye wade never out of England bide, Till crooked and blind and a’wad steal.’

31 ‘But will thou lend me thy bay?’ Fair Johnë Armstrong can say, ‘There’s nae mae horse loose in the stable but he; And I’le either bring ye Dick o the Kow again, Or the day is come that he must die.’

32 ‘To lend thee my bay,’ the Laird’s Jock can say, ‘He’s both worth gold and good monie; Dick o the Kow has away twa horse, I wish no thou should no make him three.’

33 He has tane the Laird’s jack on his back, The twa-handed sword th_a_t hang lieugh by his thigh; He has tane the steel cap on his head, And on is he to follow Dickie.

34 Then Dickie was not a mile off the town, I wate a mile but barely three, Till John Armstrang has oertane Dick o the Kow, Hand for hand on Cannobei lee.

35 ‘Abide th[e], bide now, Dickie than, The day is come that thow must die;’ Dickie looked oer his left shoulder; ‘Johnie, has thow any mo in thy company?

36 ‘There is a preacher in owr chapell, And a’the lee-lang day teaches he; When day is gane, and night is come, There’s never a word I mark but three.

37 ‘The first and second’s Faith and Conscience; The third is, Johnie, Take head of thee; But what faith and conscience had thow, traitor, When thou took my three kye frae me?

38 ‘And when thou had tane my three kye, Thou thought in thy heart thou was no wel sped; But thou sent thi billie Willie oer the know, And he took three coerlets of my wife’s bed.’

39 Then Johne lett a spear fa leaugh by his thigh, Thought well to run the innocent through; But the powers above was more than his, He ran but the poor fool’s jerkin through.

40 Together they ran or ever they blan— This was Dickie, the fool, and hee— Dickie could not win to him w_i_t_h_ the blade of the sword, But he feld [him] with the plummet under the eye.

41 Now Dickie has [feld] Fair Johnë Armstrong, The prettiest man in the south countrey; ‘Gramercie,’ then can Dickie say, ‘I had twa horse, thou has made me three.’

42 He has tane the laird’s jack off his back, The twa-handed sword th_a_t hang leiugh by his thigh; He has tane the steel cape off his head: ‘Johnie, I’le tel my master I met with thee.’

43 When Johnë wakend out of his dream, I wate a dreiry man was he: ‘Is thou gane now, Dickie, than? The shame gae in thy company!

44 ‘Is thou gane now, Dickie, than? The shame go in thy companie! For if I should live this hundred year, I shal never fight with a fool after thee.’

45 Then Dickie comed home to lord and master, Even as fast as he may driee: ‘Now Dickie, I shal neither eat meat nor drink Till high hanged that thou shall be!’

46 ‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo Dickie, ‘That was no the promise ye made to me; For I’d never gane to Liddesdale to steal Till that I sought my leave at thee.’

47 ‘But what gart thow steal the Laird’s-Jock’s horse? And, limmer, what gart thou steal him?’ quo he; ‘For lang might thow in Cumberland dwelt Or the Laird’s Jock had stoln ought frae thee.’

48 ‘Indeed I wate ye leed, my lord, And even so loud as I hear ye lie; I wan him frae his man, Fair Johnë Armstrong, Hand for hand on Cannobie lee.

49 ‘There’s the jack was on his back, The twa-handed sword that hung lewgh by his thigh; There’s the steel cap was on his head; I have a’these takens to lett you see.’

50 ‘If that be true thou to me tels— I trow thou dare not tel a lie— I’le give thee twenty pound for the good horse, Wel teld in thy cloke-lap shall be.

51 ‘And I’le give thee one of my best milk-kye, To maintain thy wife and children three; [And that may be as good, I think, As ony twa o thine might be.’]

52 ‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo Dicke, ‘Trow ye ay to make a fool of me? I’le either have thirty pound for the good horse, Or els he’s gae to Mattan fair wi me:’

53 Then he has given him thirty pound for the good horse, All in gold and good monie; He has given him one of his best milk-kye, To maintain his wife and children three.

54 Then Dickie’s come down through Carlile town, Even as fast as he may drie: The first of men that he with mett Was my lord’s brother, Bailife Glazenberrie.

55 ‘Well may ye be, my good Ralph Scrupe!’ ‘Welcome, my brother’s fool!’ quo he; ‘Where did thou gett Fair Johnie Armstrong’s horse?’ ‘Where did I get him but steall him,’ quo he.

56 ‘But will thou sell me Fair Johnie Armstrongś horse? And, billie, will thou sel him to me?’ quo he: ‘Ay, and tel me the monie on my cloke-lap, For there’s not one fathing I’le trust thee.’

57 ‘I’le give thee fifteen pound for the good horse, Wel teld on thy cloke-lap shal be; And I’le give [thee] one of my best milk-kye, To maintain thy wife and thy children three.’

58 ‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo Dickë, ‘Trow ye ay to make a fool of me?’ quo he: ‘I’le either have thirty pound for the good horse, Or else he’s to Mattan Fair with me.’

59 He has given him thirty pound for the good horse, All in gold and good monie; He has given him one of his best milk-kye, To maintain his wife and children three.

60 Then Dickie lap a loup on high, And I wate a loud laughter leugh he: ‘I wish the neck of the third horse were browken, For I have a better of my own, and onie better can be.’

61 Then Dickie comd hame to his wife again; Judge ye how the poor fool he sped; He has given her three score of English pounds For the three auld coerlets was tane of her bed.

62 ‘Hae, take thee there twa as good kye, I trow, as al thy three might be; And yet here is a white-footed naigg; I think he’le carry booth thee and me.

63 ‘But I may no langer in Cumberland dwell; The Armstrongs the’le hang me high:’ But Dickie has tane leave at lord and master, And Burgh under Stanemuir there dwels Dickie.

* * * * *

#a.#

4^4. Over good is written went.

10^2. I wats: cf. 15^2, 34^2, 43^2.

21^3. Fitt: Caw, Sit. I take fitt in the sense of fettle.

23^4. a mense.

38^3. Sent y^e.

47^2. steal the Laird Jock horse erroneously repeated from the line above: corrected from Caw.

51^{3,4} wanting: supplied from #b#.

55^1. Srcupe.

62^2. for thy, thyee, corrected from three.

#b.#

Burden, after the first and fourth line, Fala, fala, fala, faliddle.

1^3. horses are grown sae lidder fat.

1^4. They downa stur out o the sta.

2^2. then we’ll gae.

2^4. Ablins we’ll hit on.

3^2. rade the.

4^3. Quo J.

4^4. Ere thir: gae.

5^1. with wanting.

5^4. men ca.

6^{1,4}, 11^4, 19^4. ky.

6^2. As there’s.

6^3. me for my, twice.

7^3. three ky.

8^1. day was.

8^3, 9^1. O had.

9^4. In good sooth I’ll.

10^1. on for ’s.

10^2. was he.

10^3. Now had.

11^3. this wanting.

13^1. I gi.

13^2. speakest: my.

13^3. right wanting.

13^4. but wha sta frae.

14^2. hang.

14^4. but wha sta.

16^2. might.

16^3. Now Dickie’s.

16^4. were.

17^1. O what’s this comd o me now.

18^2. Sae weil’s.

19^2. o his.

19^3. the last.

20^3, 21^1. up and.

20^3. We’ll nit him in a four-nooked sheet wanting.

20^4. We’ll gie im his batts.

21^2. in a’the.

21^3. Sit thy ways: Dickie.

21^4. thy: gi thee.

22^3. Then Dickie.

22^4, 23^2. there wanting.

23^1. o an auld.

23^3. was wanting.

23^4. a mense.

24^3. came na.

24^4. t’the.

25^1. weary for aevery: were.

25^2. Aboon: hang for flang.

25^3. Dickie he.

26^1. Then D. into the stable is gane.

26^2, 27^2. horses.

26^3, 27^1. Mary’s.

27^3. tane: his wanting.

28^3, 29^1. O where’s.

29^2. dinna.

29^3. Dickie’s been: this wanting.

30^1. it wanting.

31^1. But lend me thy bay, Johnie.

31^2. mae wanting.

31^3. ye wanting.

31^4. he shall.

32^2. worth baith.

32^4. na thou may make.

33^2. lieugh wanting.

33^4. he gane.

34^1. was na.

34^3. Till he’s oertane by Johnie A.

35^1. Abide, abide.

35^2. maun die.

35^3. Then wanting.

35^4. thy wanting.

36^4. neer ae.

37^2. third, neer let a traitor free.

37^3. But Johnie: hadst: traitor wanting.

38^1. tane away.

38^3. But sent thy.

39^2. to hae slain the innocent, I trow.

39^3. were mair than he.

39^4. For he.

40^4. But feld ’im.

41^1. has feld.

42^2. leiugh wanting.

43^1. Johnie.

43^3, 44^1. And is.

44^3. years.

44^4. I neer shall.

45^1. come.

45^3. I’ll neither eat nor.

45^4. hanged thou shalt.

46^4. Till I had got my.

47^2. gard thou steal him, quo he.

47^4. Ere: stawn frae.

48^3. Johnie.

49^3. And there’s.

49^4. let thee.

50^2. dare na.

50^3, 52^3, 53^1, 57^1, 58^3, 59^1. punds.

51^{3,4}. And that may be as good, I think, As ony twa o thine might be.

52^4. els wanting: Mortan.

53^1. He’s gien.

54^1. Dickie came.

54^2. he might.

54^3. met with.

54^4. Glozenburrie.

56^{1,2}. wilt.

56^4. no ae fardin.

57^3. gi thee.

57^4. thy wanting.

58^4. Or he’s gae: Mortan.

60^1. fu hie.

60^2. laugh laughed.

60^4. if better can be.

61^1. Dickie’s.

61^2. fool sped.

62^1. these for there.

62^3. a accidentally wanting: nagie.

63^1. bide for dwell.

63^4. dwells he.

Simple Scotticisms and ordinary contractions have generally not been noted.

#c.#

Reading of #b# are not repeated.

Burden: after the first and the second verse, Lal de ral, thrice, la lal de; at the end of the stanza: Lal lal de ridle la di, fal lal de ridle la di, Fal lal di lal la, fal lal di ridle la.

2^1. Fair Johnie.

2^2. riding we will.

2^3. have been: at feid.

2^4. we’ll light.

3^1. they are come.

3^2. that proper, as #a#.

4^1. For he.

5^1. ca.

5^4. And men they call.

6^2. there are.

7^1. they have come.

7^4. frae his.

8^2. rase.

9^2. ay where thou hast lost ae.

9^4. suith I shall.

10^1. Now Dickie’s gane to the gude Lord Scroop.

11^1. Shame fa your.

11^4. hae awa.

12^3. you.

13^4. Thou’lt.

15^1. leave o.

15^2. And wanting.

16^1. on to Pudding-burn house.

16^3. Then: on to.

17, 18 wanting.

19^3. house last.

20^1. Ha quo fair.

20^2. then wanting.

20^3. Then up and spak: young Armstrang.

21^1. But up and spak.

21^3. down thy ways.

21^4. gie ye.

22^2. the neer.

22^3. Then was he aware.

23^4. Were I: amends: my gude.

24 wanting.

25^2. they threw.

25^3. o that.

25^4. There will be a bootie for.

26^1. has into the stable gane.

27^4. And away as fast as he can hie.

28^1. But.

28^2. raise.

28^3. Ah, whae has done this.

29^1. Whae has done this deed.

29^2. See that to me.

29^4. has taen.

31^1. But lend me thy bay, Fair Johnie can say.

31^2. save he.

31^3. either fetch.

32 wanting.

33^2. A: to hang by.

33^3. a for the.

33^4. And galloped on to.

34^1. Then wanting: frae aff.

34^3. When he was: Fair J. A.

35–38 wanting.

39^1. fu for fa: misprint?

40^3. at him.

41^1. Thus.

41^4. hast.

42^1. the steil-jack aff Johnie’s back.

42^2. hang low.

43^4. The shame and dule is left wi me.

44^2. The deil.

44^3. these h. years.

45^1. hame to the good Lord Scroop.

45^2. he might hie.

46^4. Had I not got my leave frae.

47^1. garrd thee.

47^2. garrd ye.

47^3. thou mightst.

48^3. wan the horse frae Fair.

48^4. Hand to.

49^2. This: sword hang.

49^4. brought a’.

50^2. And I think thou dares.

50^3. fifteen pounds for the horse.

50^4. on thy.

51, 52 wanting.

53^1. twenty pounds.

54^2. could drie.

55^1. Well be ye met.

55^3. didst.

56, 57, 58 wanting.

59^1. twenty punds.

59^2. Baith in.

60^4. If ony of the twa were better than he.

61^1. Dickie’s come.

61^2. had sped.

61^3. twa score.

61^4. was wanting.

62^1. And tak.

63^2. they would.

63^3. So D.

63^4. And at.

186

KINMONT WILLIE

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, I, 111, 1802; II, 32, 1833.

This ballad celebrates a bold and masterly exploit of Sir Walter Scott of Branxholm, laird of Buccleuch, which is narrated as follows by a contemporary, Archbishop Spotiswood:[309]

“The Lord Scroop being then Warden of the West-Marches of England, and the Laird of Bacleugh having the charge of Lidisdale, they sent their deputies to keep a day of truce for redress of some ordinary matters. The place of meeting was at the Dayholme of Kershop, where a small brook divideth England from Scotland, and Lidisdale from Bawcastle. There met, as deputy for the Laird of Bacleugh, Robert Scott of Hayninge, and for the Lord Scroop, a gentleman within the West-Wardenry called Mr Salkeld. These two, after truce taken and proclaimed, as the custom was, by sound of trumpet, met friendly, and, upon mutual redress of such wrongs as were then complained of, parted in good terms, each of them taking his way homewards. Meanwhile it happened one William Armstrong, commonly called Will of Kinmouth, to be in company with the Scottish deputy; against whom the English had a quarrel for many wrongs he had committed, as he was indeed a notorious thief. This man having taken his leave of the Scots deputy, and riding down the river of Liddell on the Scottish side, towards his own house, was pursued by the English that espied him from the other side of the river, and after a chase of three or four miles taken prisoner, and brought back to the English deputy, who carried him away to the castle of Carlile.

“The Laird of Bacleugh complaining of the breach of truce (which was always taken from the time of meeting unto the next day at sun-rising) wrote to Mr Salkeld and craved redress. He excused himself by the absence of the Lord Scroop. Whereupon Bacleugh sent to the Lord Scroop, and desired the prisoner might be set at liberty, without any bond or condition, seeing he was unlawfully taken. Scroop answered that he could do nothing in the matter, it having so happened, without a direction from the queen and council of England, considering the man was such a malefactor. Bacleugh, loath to inform the king of what was done, lest it might have bred some misliking betwixt the princes, dealt with Mr Bowes, the resident ambassador of England, for the prisoner’s liberty: who wrote very seriously to the Lord Scroop in that business, advising him to set the man free, and not to bring the matter to a farther hearing. But no answer was returned; the matter thereupon was imparted to the king, and the queen of England solicited by letters to give direction for his liberty; yet nothing was obtained. Which Bacleugh perceiving, and apprehending both the king, and himself as the king’s officer, to be touched in honor, he resolved to work the prisoner’s relief by the best means he could.

“And upon intelligence that the castle of Carlile, wherein the prisoner was kept, was surprisable, he employed some trusty persons to take a view of the postern-gate, and measure the height of the wall, which he meant to scale by ladders; and if those failed, to break through the wall with some iron instruments, and force the gates. This done so closely as he could, he drew together some two hundred horse, assigning the place of meeting at the tower of Morton,[310] some ten miles from Carlile, an hour before sun-set. With this company passing the water of Esk about the falling, two hours before day he crossed Eden beneath Carlile bridge (the water through the rain that had fallen being thick), and came to the Sacery [Sacray], a plain under the castle. There making a little halt at the side of a small bourn which they call Cadage [Caday, Caldew], he caused eighty of the company to light from their horses, and take the ladders and other instruments which he had prepared with them. He himself, accompanying them to the foot of the wall, caused the ladders to be set to it; which proving too short, he gave order to use the other instruments for opening the wall, nigh the postern, and finding the business like to succeed, retired to the rest whom he had left on horseback, for assuring those that entered upon the castle against any eruption from the town. With some little labor a breach was made for single men to enter, and they who first went in brake open the postern for the rest. The watchmen and some few the noise awaked made a little restraint, but they were quickly repressed and taken captive. After which they passed to the chamber wherein the prisoner was kept, and having brought him forth, sounded a trumpet, which was a signal to them without that the enterprise was performed. My Lord Scroop and Mr Salkeld were both within the house, and to them the prisoner cried a good-night. The captives taken in the first encounter were brought to Bacleugh, who presently returned them to their master, and would not suffer any spoil, or booty, as they term it, to be carried away. He had straightly forbidden to break open any door but that where the prisoner was kept, though he might have made prey of all the goods within the castle and taken the warden himself captive; for he would have it seen that he did intend nothing but the reparation of his Majesty’s honor. By this time the prisoner was brought forth, the town had taken the alarm, the drums were beating, the bells ringing, and a beacon put on the top of the castle to give warning to the country. Whereupon Bacleugh commanded those that entered the castle, and the prisoner, to horse, and marching again by the Sacery, made to the river at the Stony bank, on the other side whereof certain were assembled to stop his passage; but he, causing sound the trumpet, took the river, day being then broken; and they choosing to give him way, he retired in order through the Grahams of Esk (men at that time of great power and his unfriends) and came back into Scottish ground two hours after sun-rising, and so homewards. This fell out the thirteenth of April, 1596.” (History of the Church of Scotland, 1639, in the second edition, 1666, p. 413 ff.)

Lord Scroope, on the morning after, wrote thus to the Privy Council of England:

“Yesternight, in the dead time thereof, Walter Scott of Hardinge and Walter Scott of Goldylands, the chief men about Buclughe, accompanied with five hundred horsemen of Buclughe and Kinmont’s friends, did come, armed and appointed with gavlocks and crows of iron, hand-picks, axes, and scaling-ladders, unto an outward corner of the base-court of this castle, and to the postern-door of the same, which they undermined speedily and quickly, and made themselves possessors of the base-court, brake into the chamber where Will of Kinmont was, carried him away, and, in their discovery by the watch, left for dead two of the watchmen, hurt a servant of mine, one of Kinmont’s keepers, and were issued again out of the postern before they were descried by the watch of the inner ward, and ere resistance could be made. The watch, as it should seem, by reason of the stormy night, were either on sleep or gotten under some covert to defend themselves from the violence of the weather, by means whereof the Scots achieved their enterprise with less difficulty.... If Buclughe himself have been thereat in person, the captain of this proud attempt, as some of my servants tell me they heard his name called upon (the truth whereof I shall shortly advertise) then I humbly beseech that her Majesty may be pleased to send unto the king to call for and effectually to press his delivery, that he may receive punishment as her Majesty shall find that the quality of his offence shall demerit.”[311] MS. of the State Paper Office, in Tytler’s History, IX, 436.

Kinmont’s rapacity made his very name proverbial. “Mas James Melvine, in urging reasons against subscribing the act of supremacy, in 1584, asks ironically, Who shall take order with vice and wickedness? The court and bishops? As well as Martine Elliot and Will of Kinmont with stealing upon the borders!” Scott, Minstrelsy, 1833, II, 46.

Accordingly, when James was taking measures for bringing the refractory ministers and citizens of Edinburgh into some proper subjection, at the end of the year 1596, a report that Kinmont Willie was to be let loose upon the city caused a lively consternation; “but too well grounded,” says Scott, “considering what had happened in Stirling ten years before, when the Earl of Angus, attended by Home, Buccleuch, and other border chieftains, marched thither to remove the Earl of Arran from the king’s councils: the town was miserably pillaged by the borderers, particularly by a party of Armstrongs, under this very Kinmont Willie, who not only made prey of horses and cattle, but even of the very iron grating of the windows.” Minstrelsy, II, 45.

The ballad gives Buccleuch only forty men, and they are all of the name of Scott except Sir Gilbert Elliot of Stobs: st. 16. A partial list of the men who forced the castle was obtained by Lord Scroope. It includes, as might be expected, not a few Armstrongs, and among them the laird of Mangerton, Christy of Barngleish (son of Gilnockie), and four sons of Kinmont Willie (he had at least seven); two Elliots, but not Sir Gilbert; four Bells.[312] Scott of Satchells, in his History of the Name of Scott, 1688, makes Sir Gilbert Elliot one of the party, but may have taken this name from the ballad. (Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, II, 43.) Dick of Dryhope, 24, 25, was an Armstrong.[313] The ballad, again, after cutting down Buccleuch’s men to thirty (st. 33) or forty (18, 19), assigns the very liberal garrison of a thousand to the castle, 33; the ladders are long enough, Buccleuch mounts the first,[314] the castle is won, and Kinmont Willie, in his irons, is borne down the ladder on Red Rowan’s[315] shoulders: all of which is as it should be in a ballad. And so with the death of the fause Sakelde, though not a life seems to have been lost in the whole course of the affair.

“This ballad,” says Scott, “is preserved by tradition in the West Borders, but much mangled by reciters, so that some conjectural emendations have been absolutely necessary to render it intelligible. In particular, the Eden has been substituted for the Esk [in 26^2], the latter name being inconsistent with geography.” It is to be suspected that a great deal more emendation was done than the mangling of reciters rendered absolutely necessary. One would like, for example, to see stanzas 10–12 and 31 in their mangled condition.[316]

1. William Armstrong, called Will of Kinmonth, lived in Morton Tower, a little above the Marchdike-foot. He appears, says Mr R. B. Armstrong, to have been a son of Sandy, alias Ill Will’s Sandy. Haribee is the place of execution outside of Carlisle. 3. The Liddel-rack is a ford in that river, which, for a few miles before it empties into the Esk, is the boundary of England and Scotland. 8. Branxholm, or Branksome, is three miles southwest, and Stobs, 16, some four miles southeast, of Hawick. 19. Woodhouselee was a house on the Scottish border, a little west of the junction of the Esk and Liddel, “belonging to Buccleuch,” says Scott.

1 O have ye na heard o the fause Sakelde? O have ye na heard o the keen Lord Scroop? How they hae taen bauld Kinmont Willie, On Hairibee to hang him up?

2 Had Willie had but twenty men, But twenty men as stout as he, Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont taen, Wi eight score in his companie.

3 They band his legs beneath the steed, They tied his hands behind his back; They guarded him, fivesome on each side, And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

4 They led him thro the Liddel-rack, And also thro the Carlisle sands; They brought him to Carlisle castell, To be at my Lord Scroope’s commands.

5 ‘My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, And whae will dare this deed avow? Or answer by the border law? Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?’

6 ‘Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver! There’s never a Scot shall set ye free; Before ye cross my castle-yate, I trow ye shall take farewell o me.’

7 ‘Fear na ye that, my lord,’ quo Willie; ‘By the faith o my bodie, Lord Scroop,’ he said, ‘I never yet lodged in a hostelrie But I paid my lawing before I gaed.’

8 Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper, In Branksome Ha where that he lay, That Lord Scroope has taen the Kinmont Willie, Between the hours of night and day.

9 He has taen the table wi his hand, He garrd the red wine spring on hie; ‘Now Christ’s curse on my head,’ he said, ‘But avenged of Lord Scroop I’ll be!

10 ‘O is my basnet a widow’s curch? Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree? Or my arm a ladye’s lilye hand? That an English lord should lightly me.

11 ‘And have they taen him Kinmont Willie, Against the truce of Border tide, And forgotten that the bauld Bacleuch Is keeper here on the Scottish side?

12 ‘And have they een taen him Kinmont Willie, Withouten either dread or fear, And forgotten that the bauld Bacleuch Can back a steed, or shake a spear?

13 ‘O were there war between the lands, As well I wot that there is none, I would slight Carlisle castell high, Tho it were builded of marble-stone.

14 ‘I would set that castell in a low, And sloken it with English blood; There’s nevir a man in Cumberland Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.

15 ‘But since nae war’s between the lands, And there is peace, and peace should be, I’ll neither harm English lad or lass, And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!’

16 He has calld him forty marchmen bauld, I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, calld The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.

17 He has calld him forty marchmen bauld, Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch, With spur on heel, and splent on spauld, And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.

18 There were five and five before them a’, Wi hunting-horns and bugles bright; And five and five came wi Buccleuch, Like Warden’s men, arrayed for fight.

19 And five and five like a mason-gang, That carried the ladders lang and hie; And five and five like broken men; And so they reached the Woodhouselee.

20 And as we crossd the Bateable Land, When to the English side we held, The first o men that we met wi, Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde!

21 ‘Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?’ Quo fause Sakelde; ‘come tell to me!’ ‘We go to hunt an English stag, Has trespassd on the Scots countrie.’

22 ‘Where be ye gaun, ye marshal-men?’ Quo fause Sakelde; ‘come tell me true!’ ‘We go to catch a rank reiver, Has broken faith wi the bauld Buccleuch.’

23 ‘Where are ye gaun, ye mason-lads, Wi a’your ladders lang and hie?’ ‘We gang to herry a corbie’s nest, That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.’

24 ‘Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?’ Quo fause Sakelde; ‘come tell to me!’ Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, And the nevir a word o lear had he.

25 ‘Why trespass ye on the English side? Row-footed outlaws, stand!’ quo he; The neer a word had Dickie to say, Sae he thrust the lance thro his fause bodie.

26 Then on we held for Carlisle toun, And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we crossd; The water was great, and meikle of spait, But the nevir a horse nor man we lost.

27 And when we reachd the Staneshaw-bank, The wind was rising loud and hie; And there the laird garrd leave our steeds, For fear that they should stamp and nie.

28 And when we left the Staneshaw-bank, The wind began full loud to blaw; But ’twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet, When we came beneath the castel-wa.

29 We crept on knees, and held our breath, Till we placed the ladders against the wa; And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell To mount the first before us a’.

30 He has taen the watchman by the throat, He flung him down upon the lead: ‘Had there not been peace between our lands, Upon the other side thou hadst gaed.

31 ‘Now sound out, trumpets!’ quo Buccleuch; ‘Let’s waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!’ Then loud the Warden’s trumpets blew ‘O whae dare meddle wi me?’

32 Then speedilie to wark we gaed, And raised the slogan ane and a’, And cut a hole thro a sheet of lead, And so we wan to the castel-ha.

33 They thought King James and a’ his men Had won the house wi bow and speir; It was but twenty Scots and ten That put a thousand in sic a stear!

34 Wi coulters and wi forehammers, We garrd the bars bang merrilie, Untill we came to the inner prison, Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie.

35 And when we cam to the lower prison, Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie, ‘O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, Upon the morn that thou’s to die?’

36 ‘O I sleep saft, and I wake aft, It’s lang since sleeping was fleyd frae me; Gie my service back to my wyfe and bairns, And a’gude fellows that speer for me.’

37 Then Red Rowan has hente him up, The starkest men in Teviotdale: ‘Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell.

38 ‘Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!’ he cried; ‘I’ll pay you for my lodging-maill When first we meet on the border-side.’

39 Then shoulder high, with shout and cry, We bore him down the ladder lang; At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont’s airns playd clang.

40 ‘O mony a time,’ quo Kinmont Willie, ‘I have ridden horse baith wild and wood; But a rougher beast than Red Rowan I ween my legs have neer bestrode.

41 ‘And mony a time,’ quo Kinmont Willie, ‘I’ve pricked a horse out oure the furs; But since the day I backed a steed I nevir wore sic cumbrous spurs.’

42 We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, When a’the Carlisle bells were rung, And a thousand men, in horse and foot, Cam wi the keen Lord Scroope along.

43 Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water, Even where it flowd frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in wi a’his band, And safely swam them thro the stream.

44 He turned him on the other side, And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he: ‘If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me!’

45 All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope, He stood as still as rock of stane; He scarcely dared to trew his eyes When thro the water they had gane.

46 ‘He is either himsell a devil frae hell, Or else his mother a witch maun be; I wad na have ridden that wan water For a’the gowd in Christentie.’

187

JOCK O THE SIDE

#A.# ‘John a Side,’ Percy MS., p. 254; Hales and Furnivall, II, 203.

#B.# ‘Jock o the Side.’ #a.# Caw’s Poetical Museum, 1784, p. 145. #b.# Campbell, Albyn’s Anthology, II, 28, 1818.

#C.# ‘John o the Side,’ Percy Papers, as collected from the memory of an old person in 1775.

#D.# Percy Papers, fragment from recitation, 1774.

The copy in Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 154, 1833, II, 76, is #B b#, with the insertion of three stanzas (6, 7, 23) from #B a#. Neither Campbell nor Scott has the last stanza of #B a#. Campbell says, in a note to his copy: The melody and particularly the words of this Liddesdale song were taken down by the editor from the singing and recitation of Mr Thomas Shortreed, who learnt it from his father. As to the words (except in the omission of four stanzas), #b# does not differ significantly from #a#, and it may, with little hesitation, be said to have been derived from #a#. Campbell seems to have given this copy to Scott, who published it sixteen years before it appeared in the Anthology, with the addition already mentioned.[317] The copy in the Campbell MSS, I, 220, is #B a#.

The earliest appearance of John o the Side is, perhaps, in the list of the marauders against whom complaint was made to the Bishop of Carlisle “presently after” Queen Mary Stuart’s departure for France; not far, therefore, from 1550: “John of the Side (Gleed John).”

Mr R. B. Armstrong has printed two bonds in which John Armstrong of the Syde is a party, with others, of the date 1562 and 1563. History of Liddesdale, etc., Appendix, pp ciii, civ, Nos LXV, LXVI.

The earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, after the failure of the Rising in the North, fled first to Liddesdale, and thence “to one of the Armstrongs,” in the Debateable Land. The Liddesdale men stole the Countess of Northumberland’s horses, and the earls, continuing their flight, left her “on foot, at John of the Syde’s house, a cottage not to be compared to any dog-kennel in England.” At his departing, “my lord of Westmoreland changed his coat of plate and sword with John of the Syde, to be the more unknown:” Sussex to Cecil, December 22, 1569, printed in Sharp’s Memorials of the Rebellion, p. 114 f.

John is nephew to the laird of Mangerton in #B# 1, 3, 4, #C# 1, 3, and therefore cousin to the Laird’s Jock and the Laird’s Wat:[318] but this does not appear in #A#.

Sir Richard Maitland commemorates both John of the Syde and the Laird’s Jock in his verses on the thieves of Liddesdale:

He is weill kend, Johne of Syde, A greater theife did never ryd: He never tyres For to brek byres, Our muire and myres our guid ane gyde.

(MS., fol. 4, back, line 13.)

An Archie Armstrang in Syde is complained of, with others, in 1596, for burning eleven houses (Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, V, 294), and Christie of the Syde is “mentioned in the list of border clans, 1597” (Scott).

In Blaeu’s map of Liddesdale, “Syid” is on the right bank of the Liddel, nearly opposite Mangerton, but a little higher up the stream.

#A.# John a Side has been taken in a raid[319] and carried prisoner to Newcastle. Sybill o the Side (his mother, 20) runs by the water with the news to Mangerton, where lords and ladies are ready to sell all their cattle and sheep for John’s ransom. But Hobby Noble says that with five men he would fetch John back. The laird offers five thousand, but Hobby will take only five. They will not go like men of war, but like poor corn-dealers, and their steeds must be barefoot. When they come to Chollerton, on the Tyne, the water is up. Hobby asks an old man the way over the ford. The old man in threescore years and three has never seen horse go over except a horse of tree; meaning, we may suppose, a foot-bridge. In spite of the old man they find a way where they can cross in pairs. In Howbram wood they cut a tree of three-and-thirty foot, and with help of this, or without it, they climb to the top of the castle, where John is making his farewells to his mother, the lord of Mangerton, Much the Miller’s son, and “Lord Clough.” Hobby Noble calls to John to say that he has come to loose him;[320] John fears that it will not be done. Two men keep the horses, and four break the outer door (John himself breaking five doors within) and come to the iron door. The bell strikes twelve. Much the Miller fears they will be taken, and even John despairs of success. Hobby is not daunted; he files down the iron door and takes John out. John in his bolts can neither sit nor stride; Hobby ties the chains to John’s feet, and says John rides like a bride. As they go through Howbram town John’s horse stumbles, and Much is again in a panic, which seems to show that John’s commendation of him in 22 applies rather to his capacity as a thief than to his mettle. In Howbram wood they file off John’s bolts at the feet. Now, says Hobby, leap over a horse! and John leaps over five. They have no difficulty in fording the Tyne on their return, and bring John home to Mangerton without further trouble.

It is Hobby Noble, then, that looses John in #A#, as he is said to have done in his own ballad, st. 27; but in #B#, #C# the Laird’s Jock takes the lead, and Hobie plays a subordinate part. The Laird’s Wat replaces the faint-hearted Much (who, however, is again found in the fragment #D#); Sybil of the Side becomes Downie (in #D# Dinah); the liberating party is but three instead of six.

The laird in #B# orders the horses to be shod the wrong way,[321] whereas in #A# the shoes were taken off; and the party must not seem to be gentlemen, Heaven save the mark! but look like corn-cadgers, as in #A#. At Cholerford they cut a tree with fifteen nags, #B# 11, #C# with fifty nags, on each side, #D# twenty snags, and three long ones on the top; but when they come to Newcastle it proves to be too short, as the ladders are in the historical account of the release of Kinmont Willie. The Laird’s Jock says they must force the gate. A proud porter withstands them; they wring his neck, and take his keys, #B# 13, 14, #C# 10 (cf. No 116, st. 65, No 119, 70, 71, and III, 95 note [86]). When they come to the jail, they let Jock know that they mean to free him; he is hopeless; the day is come he is to die; fifteen stone of iron (fifty, #C#) is laid on him. Work thou within and we without, says the Laird’s Jock. One door they open and one they break. The Laird’s Jock gets John o the Side on his back and takes him down the stair, declining help from Hobie. They put the prisoner on a horse, with the same jest as before; the night is wet, as it was when Kinmont Willie was loosed, but they hie on merrily. They had no trouble in crossing the Tyne when they were coming, but now it is running like a sea. The old man had never seen it so big; the Laird Wat says they are all dead men. Set the prisoner on behind me, cries the gallant Laird’s Jock, and they all swim through. Hardly have they won the other side when twenty Englishmen who are pursuing them reach the river. The land-sergeant says that the water will not ride, and calls to them to throw him the irons; they may have the rogue. The Laird’s Jock answers that he will keep the irons to shoe his grey mare.[322] They bring John to Liddesdale, and there they free him of his irons, #B#. Now, John, they say, ‘the day was come thou wast to die;’ but thou’rt as well at thy own fireside.

In #D# 5 they cut their mares’ tails before starting, and never stop running till they come to Hathery Haugh. Tyne is running like a sea when they come to Chollerton, on their way to the rescue, as in #A#. They cut their tree in Swinburn wood. When they are to re-cross the river, Much says his mare is young and will not swim; the Laird’s Jock (?) says, Take thou mine, and I’ll take thine.

The ballad is one of the best in the world, and enough to make a horse-trooper of any young borderer, had he lacked the impulse. In deference to history, it is put after Kinmont Willie, for it may be a free version of his story.

A

Percy MS., p. 254; Hales and Furnivall, II, 203.

* * * * *

1 Peeter a Whifeild he hath slaine, And Iohn a Side, he is tane, And Iohn is bound both hand and foote, And to the New-castle he is gone.

2 But tydinges came to the Sybill o the Side, By the water-side as shee rann; Shee tooke her kirtle by the hem, And fast shee runn to Mangerton.

3 . . . . . . . . The lord was sett downe at his meate; When these tydings shee did him tell, Neu_er_ a morsell might he eate.

4 But lords, the wrunge their fingars white, Ladyes did pull themselues by the haire, Crying, Alas and weladay! For Iohn o the Side wee shall neu_er_ see more.

5 ‘But wee’le goe sell our droues of kine, And after them our oxen sell, And after them our troopes of sheepe, But wee will loose him out of the New Castell.’

6 But then bespake him Hobby Noble, And spoke these words wonderous hye; Sayes, Giue me fiue men to my selfe, And I’le feitch Iohn o the Side to thee.

7 ‘Yea, thou’st haue fiue, Hobby Noble, Of the best _tha_t are in this countrye; I’le giue thee fiue thousand, Hobby Noble, _Tha_t walke in Tyuidale trulye.’

8 ‘Nay, I’le haue but fiue,’ saies Hobby Noble, ‘_Tha_t shall walke away w_i_th mee; Wee will ryde like noe men of warr; But like poore badgers wee wilbe.’

9 They stuffet vp all their baggs w_i_th straw, And their steeds barefoot must bee; ‘Come on, my bretheren,’ sayes Hobby Noble, ‘Come on yo_u_r wayes, and goe w_i_th mee.’

10 And when they came to Culerton ford, The water was vp, they cold it not goe; And then they were ware of a good old man, How his boy and hee were at the plowe.

11 ‘But stand you still,’ sayes Hobby Noble, ‘Stand you still heere at this shore, And I will ryde to yonder old man, And see w[h]ere the gate it lyes ore.

12 ‘But Christ you saue, father!’ q_uo_th hee, ‘Crist both you saue and see! Where is the way ou_er_ this fford? For Christ’s sake tell itt mee!’

13 ‘But I haue dwelled heere three score yeere, Soe haue I done three score and three; I neu_er_ sawe man nor horsse goe ore, Except itt were a horse of tree.’

14 ‘But fare thou well, thou good old man! The devill in hell I leave w_i_th thee, Noe better comfort heere this night Thow giues my bretheren heere and me.’

15 But when he came to his brether againe, And told this tydings full of woe, And then they found a well good gate They might ryde ore by two and two.

16 And when they were come ou_er_ the fforde, All safe gotten att the last, ‘Thankes be to God!’ sayes Hobby Nobble, ‘The worst of our perill is past.’

17 And then they came into Howbrame wood, And there then they found a tree, And cutt itt downe then by the roote; The lenght was thirty ffoote and three.

18 And four of them did take the planke, As light as it had beene a fflee, And carryed itt to the New Castle, Where as Iohn a Side did lye.

19 And some did climbe vp by the walls, And some did climbe vp by the tree, Vntill they came vpp to the top of the castle, Where Iohn made his moane trulye.

20 He sayd, God be w_i_th thee, Sybill o the Side! My owne mother thou art, q_uo_th hee; If thou knew this night I were here, A woe woman then woldest thou bee.

21 And fare you well, Lo_rd_ Mangerton! And eu_er_ I say God be w_i_th thee! For if you knew this night I were heere, You wold sell your land for to loose mee.

22 And fare thou well, Much, Millers sonne! Much, Millars sonne, I say; Thou has beene better att merke midnight Then eu_er_ thou was att noone o the day.

23 And fare thou well, my good Lord Clough! Thou art thy ffathers sonne and heire; Thou neu_er_ saw him in all thy liffe But w_i_th him durst thou breake a speare.

24 ‘Wee are brothers childer nine or ten, And sisters children ten or eleven. We neu_er_ came to the feild to fight, But the worst of us was counted a man.’

25 But then bespake him Hoby Noble, And spake these words vnto him; Saies, Sleepest thou, wakest thou, Iohn o the Side, Or art thou this castle w_i_thin?

26 ‘But who is there,’ q_uo_th Iohn oth Side, ‘_Tha_t knowes my name soe right and free?’ ‘I am a bastard-brother of thine; This night I am comen for to loose thee.’

27 ‘Now nay, now nay,’ q_uo_th Iohn o the Side; ‘Itt ffeares me sore _tha_t will not bee; Ffor a pecke of gold and silver,’ Iohn sayd, ‘In faith this night will not loose mee.’

28 But then bespake him Hobby Noble, And till his brother thus sayd hee; Sayes, Four shall take this matter in hand, And two shall tent our geldings ffree.

29 Four did breake one dore w_i_thout, Then Iohn brake fiue himsell; But when they came to the iron dore, It smote twelue vpon the bell.

30 ‘Itt ffeares me sore,’ sayd Much, the Miller, ‘_Tha_t heere taken wee all shalbee;’ ‘But goe away, bretheren,’ sayd Iohn a Side, ‘For eu_er_ alas! this will not bee.’

31 ‘But ffye vpon thee!’ sayd Hobby Noble; ‘Much, the Miller, fye vpon thee! ‘It sore feares me,’ said Hobby Noble, ‘Man _tha_t thou wilt neu_er_ bee.’

32 But then he had Fflanders files two or three, And hee fyled downe _tha_t iron dore, And tooke Iohn out of the New Castle, And sayd, Looke thou neu_er_ come heere more!

33 When he had him fforth of the New Castle, ‘Away w_i_th me, Iohn, thou shalt ryde:’ But eu_er_ alas! itt cold not bee; For Iohn cold neither sitt nor stryde.

34 But then he had sheets two or three, And bound Iohns boults fast to his ffeete, And sett him on a well good steede, Himselfe on another by him seete.

35 Then Hobby Noble smiled and loug[h]e, And spoke these worde in mickle pryde: Thou sitts soe finely on thy geldinge _Tha_t, Iohn, thou rydes like a bryde.

36 And when they came thorrow Howbrame towne, Iohns horsse there stumbled at a stone; ‘Out and alas!’ cryed Much, the Miller, ‘Iohn, thou’le make vs all be tane.’

37 ‘But fye vpon thee!’ saies Hobby Noble, ‘Much, the Millar, fye on thee! I know full well,’ sayes Hobby Noble, ‘Man _tha_t thou wilt neu_er_ bee.’

38 And when the came into Howbrame wood, He had Fflanders files two or three To file Iohns bolts beside his ffeete, _Tha_t hee might ryde more easilye.

39 Sayes, ‘Iohn, now leape ou_er_ a steede!’ And Iohn then hee lope ou_er_ fiue: ‘I know well,’ sayes Hobby Noble, ‘Iohn, thy ffellow is not aliue.’

40 Then he brought him home to Mangerton; The lo_rd_ then he was att his meate; But when Iohn o the Side he there did see, For faine hee cold noe more eate.

41 He sayes, Blest be thou, Hobby Noble, _Tha_t euer thou wast man borne! Thou hast feitched vs home good Iohn oth Side, _Tha_t was now cleane ffrom vs gone.

B

#a.# Caw’s Poetical Museum, 1784, p. 145; “from an old manuscript copy.” #b.# Campbell’s Albyn’s Anthology, II, 28; “taken down from the recitation of Mr Thomas Shortreed,” of Jedburgh, “who learnt it from his father.”

1 ‘Now Liddisdale has ridden a raid, But I wat they had better staid at hame; For Mitchel o Winfield he is dead, And my son Johnie is prisner tane.’ With my fa ding diddle, la la dow diddle.

2 For Mangerton House auld Downie is gane; Her coats she has kilted up to her knee, And down the water wi speed she rins, While tears in spaits fa fast frae her eie.

3 Then up and bespake the lord Mangerton: ‘What news, what news, sister Downie, to me?’ ‘Bad news, bad news, my lord Mangerton; Mitchel is killd, and tane they hae my son Johnie.’

4 ‘Neer fear, sister Downie,’ quo Mangerton; ‘I hae yokes of oxen four and twentie, My barns, my byres, and my faulds, a’weel filld, And I’ll part wi them a’ere Johnie shall die.

5 ‘Three men I’ll take to set him free, Weel harnessd a’wi best o steel; The English rogues may hear, and drie The weight o their braid swords to feel.

6 ‘The Laird’s Jock ane, the Laird’s Wat twa, Oh, Hobie Noble, thou ane maun be; Thy coat is blue, thou has been true, Since England banishd thee, to me.’

7 Now Hobie was an English man, In Bewcastle-dale was bred and born; But his misdeeds they were sae great, They banishd him neer to return.

8 Lord Mangerton them orders gave, ‘Your horses the wrang way maun a’ be shod; Like gentlemen ye must not seem, But look like corn-caugers gawn ae road.

9 ‘Your armour gude ye maunna shaw, Nor ance appear like men o weir; As country lads be all arrayd, Wi branks and brecham on ilk mare.’

10 Sae now a’their horses are shod the wrang way, And Hobie has mounted his grey sae fine, Jock his lively bay, Wat’s on his white horse behind, And on they rode for the water o Tyne.

11 At the Choler-ford they a’light down, And there, wi the help o the light o the moon, A tree they cut, wi fifteen naggs upo ilk side, To climb up the wa o Newcastle town.

12 But when they cam to Newcastle town, And were alighted at the wa, They fand their tree three ells oer laigh, They fand their stick baith short and sma.

13 Then up and spake the Laird’s ain Jock, ‘There’s naething for’t, the gates we maun force;’ But when they cam the gates unto, A proud porter withstood baith men and horse.

14 His neck in twa I wat they hae wrung, Wi hand or foot he neer playd paw; His life and his keys at anes they hae tane, And cast his body ahind the wa.

15 Now soon they reach Newcastle jail, And to the prisner thus they call: ‘Sleips thou, wakes thou, Jock o the Side? Or is thou wearied o thy thrall?’

16 Jock answers thus, wi dolefu tone: Aft, aft I wake, I seldom sleip; But wha’s this kens my name sae weel, And thus to hear my waes do[es] seik?

17 Then up and spake the good Laird’s Jock, ‘Neer fear ye now, my billie,’ quo he; ‘For here’s the Laird’s Jock, the Laird’s Wat, And Hobie Noble, come to set thee free.’

18 ‘Oh, had thy tongue, and speak nae mair, And o thy tawk now let me be! For if a’Liddisdale were here the night, The morn’s the day that I maun die.

19 ‘Full fifteen stane o Spanish iron They hae laid a’right sair on me; Wi locks and keys I am fast bound Into this dungeon mirk and drearie.’

20 ‘Fear ye no that,’ quo the Laird’s Jock; ‘A faint heart neer wan a fair ladie; Work thou within, we’ll work without, And I’ll be bound we set thee free.’

21 The first strong dore that they came at, They loosed it without a key; The next chaind dore that they cam at, They gard it a’in flinders flee.

22 The prisner now, upo his back, The Laird’s Jock’s gotten up fu hie; And down the stair him, irons and a’, Wi nae sma speed and joy brings he.

23 ‘Now, Jock, I wat,’ quo Hobie Noble, ‘Part o the weight ye may lay on me;’ ‘I wat weel no,’ quo the Laird’s Jock, ‘I count him lighter than a flee.’

24 Sae out at the gates they a’ are gane, The prisner’s set on horseback hie; And now wi speed they’ve tane the gate, While ilk ane jokes fu wantonlie.

25 ‘O Jock, sae winsomely’s ye ride, Wi baith your feet upo ae side! Sae weel’s ye’re harnessd, and sae trig! In troth ye sit like ony bride.’

26 The night, tho wat, they didna mind, But hied them on fu mirrilie, Until they cam to Cholerford brae, Where the water ran like mountains hie.

27 But when they came to Cholerford, There they met with an auld man; Says, Honest man, will the water ride? Tell us in haste, if that ye can.

28 ‘I wat weel no,’ quo the good auld man; ‘Here I hae livd this threty yeirs and three, And I neer yet saw the Tyne sae big, Nor rinning ance sae like a sea.’

29 Then up and spake the Laird’s saft Wat, The greatest coward in the company; ‘Now halt, now halt, we needna try’t; The day is comd we a’maun die!’

30 ‘Poor faint-hearted thief!’ quo the Laird’s Jock, ‘There’ll nae man die but he that’s fie; I’ll lead ye a’right safely through; Lift ye the prisner on ahint me.’

31 Sae now the water they a’hae tane, By anes and twas they a’swam through; ‘Here are we a’safe,’ says the Laird’s Jock, ‘And, poor faint Wat, what think ye now?’

32 They scarce the ither side had won, When twenty men they saw pursue; Frae Newcastle town they had been sent, A’English lads, right good and true.

33 But when the land-sergeant the water saw, ‘It winna ride, my lads,’ quo he; Then out he cries, Ye the prisner may take, But leave the irons, I pray, to me.

34 ‘I wat weel no,’ cryd the Laird’s Jock, ‘I’ll keep them a’, shoon to my mare they’ll be; My good grey mare, for I am sure. She’s bought them a’ fu dear frae thee.’

35 Sae now they’re away for Liddisdale, Een as fast as they coud them hie; The prisner’s brought to his ain fire-side, And there o’s aims they make him free.

36 ‘Now, Jock, my billie,’ quo a’the three, ‘The day was comd thou was to die; But thou’s as weel at thy ain fire-side, Now sitting, I think, tween thee and me.’

37 They hae gard fill up ae punch-bowl, And after it they maun hae anither, And thus the night they a’hae spent, Just as they had been brither and brither.

C

Percy Papers. “The imperfect copy sent me from Keelder, as collected from the memory of an old person by Mr William Hadley, in 1775.”

1 ‘Now Liddisdale has ridden a rade, But I wat they had a better staid at home; For Michel of Windfield he is slain, And my son Jonny, they have him tane.’ With my fa dow diddle, lal la dow didle

2 Now Downy’s down the water gone, With all her cots unto her arms, And she gave never over swift running Untill she came to Mengertown.

3 Up spack Lord Mengertown and says, What news, what news now, sister Downy? what news hast thou to me? ‘Bad news, bad news, Lord Mengertown, For Michal of Windfield he is slain, and my son Jonny they have him tain.’

4 Up speaks Lord Mengertown and says, I have four and twenty yoke of oxen, And four and twenty good milk-ky, And three times as mony sheep, And I’ll gie them a’before my son Jonny die.

5 I will tak three men unto myself; The Laird’s Jack he shall be ane, The Laird’s Wat another, For, Hobbie Noble, thow must be ane.

6 . . . . . . . . . . thy cot is of the blue; For ever since thou cam to Liddisdale To Mengertown thou hast been true.

7 Now Hobbie hath mounted his frienged gray, And the Laird’s Jack his lively bey, And Watt with the ald horse behind, And they are away as fast as they can ride.

8 Till they are come to the Cholar foord, And there they lighted down; And there they cut a tree with fifty nags upo each side, For to clim Newcastle wall.

9 And when they came there . . . It wad not reach by ellish three; ‘There’s nothing for’t,’ says the Laird’s Jack, ‘But forceing o New Castle gate.’

10 And when they came there, There was a proud porter standing, And I wat they were obliged to wring his neck in twa.

11 Now they are come to New Castle gile: Says they, Sleep thou, wakes thou, John o the Side?

12 Says he, Whiles I wake, but seldom sleep; Who is there that knows my name so well?

13 Up speaks the Laird’s Jack and says, . . . . . . . . Here is Jack and Watt and Hobby Noble, Come this night to set thee free.

14 Up speaks John of the Side and says, O hold thy tongue now, billy, and of thy talk now let me be; For if a’Liddisdale were here this night, The morn is the day that I must die.

15 For their is fifty stone of Spanish iron Laid on me fast wee lock and key, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

16 Then up speaks the Laird’s Jack and says, A faint heart neer wan a fair lady; Work thou within and we without, And this night we’el set the free.

17 The first door that they came at They lowsed without either lock or key, . . . . . . . . And the next they brock in flinders three.

18 Till now Jack has got the prisner on his back, And down the tolbooth stair came he; . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

19 Up spack Hobby Noble and says, O man, I think thou may lay some weight o the prisner upo me; ‘I wat weel no,’ says the Laird’s Jack, ‘For I do not count him as havy as ane poor flee.’

20 So now they have set him upo horse back, And says, O now so winsomly as thou dost ride, Just like a bride, wee beth thy feet Unto a side.

21 Now they are away wee him as fast as they can heye, Till they are come to the Cholar foord brae head; And they met an ald man, And says, Will the water ride?

22 ‘I wat well no,’ says the ald man, ‘For I have lived here this thirty years and three, . . . . . . . . And I think I never saw Tyne running so like a sea.’

23 Up speaks the Laird’s Watt and says— The greatest coward of the companie— . . . . . . . . ‘Now, dear billies, the day is come that we must a’die.’

24 Up speaks the Laird’s Jack and says, Poor cowardly thief, They will never one die but him that’s fee; . . . . . . . . Set the prisner on behind me.

25 So they have tain the water by ane and two, Till they have got safe swumd through.

26 Be they wan safe a’through, There were twenty men pursueing them from New Castle town.

27 Up speaks the land-sergant and says, If you be gone with the rog, cast me my irons.

28 ‘I wat weel no,’ says the Laird’s Jack, ‘For I will keep them to shew my good grey mere; . . . . . . . . For I am sure she has bought them dear.’

29 ‘Good sooth,’ says the Laird’s Jack, ‘The worst perel is now past.’

30 So now they have set him upo hoseback, And away as fast as they could hye, Till they brought him into Liddisdale, And now they have set him down at his own fireside.

31 And says, now John, The day was come that thou was to die, But thou is full as weel sitting at thy own fireside. . . . . . . . .

32 And now they are falln to drink, And they drank a whole week one day after another, And if they be not given over, They are all drinking on yet.

D

Percy Papers. “These are scraps of the old song repeated to me by Mr Leadbeater, from the neighborhood of Hexham, 1774.”

1 Liddisdaill has ridden a raid, But they had better ha staid at hame; For Michael a Wingfield he is slain, And Jock o the Side they hae taen.

2 Dinah’s down the water gane, Wi a’her coats untill her knes, . . . . . . . . To Mangerton came she.

3 . . . . . . . . . How now? how now? What’s your will wi me? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

4 To the New Castle h[e] is gane.

5 They have cuttin their yad’s tailes, They’ve cut them a little abune the hough, And they nevir gave oer s....d running Till they came to Hathery Haugh.

6 And when they came to Chollerton ford Tyne was mair running like a sea. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

7 And when they came to Swinburne wood, Quickly they ha fellen a tree; Twenty snags on either side, And on the top it had lang three.

8 ‘My mare is young, she wul na swim,’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

9 . . . . . . . ‘Now Mudge the Miller, fie on thee! Tak thou mine, and I’ll tak thine, And the deel hang down thy yad and thee.’

* * * * *

#A.#

1^1. whifeild: the first i may be t: Furnivall.

6^3, 7^1, 8^1. 5.

7^3. 5000.

13^1, 13^2. 3.

13^4. 3: Percy queries, tree?

15^4. 2 and 2.

17^4. 30: 3.

18^1. 4.

19^2. by. MS. eaten through by ink: Furnivall.

20^3. knight for night.

24^1. 9: or: 10:.

24^2. 10: or: 11:. The first and the second line might be transposed to the advantage of the rhyme.

25^1. hobynoble.

27^4. infaith.

28^3. 4.

28^4. 2.

29^1. for 4.

29^2. 5.

29^4. 12.

32^1, 34^1, 38^2. 2 or 3.

39^2. 5.

#B. a.#

13^2. wi’maun.

16^4. do seik (==dos seik).

34^3. grey mare, but bay in 10^3. #b# has bay in both.

#b.#

Burden after the first and the fourth line: Wi my fa ding diddle, lal low dow diddle.

1^2. hae staid.

1^3, 3^4. Michael.

1^4. And Jock o the Side.

2^1. Lady Downie has.

2^4. the wanting.

3^1. and spoke our gude auld lord.

3^4. and they hae taen.

4^2. ousen eighty and three.

5^1. I’ll send.

5^2. A’harneist wi the.

5^3. louns for rogues.

6, 7 wanting.

8^1. then for them.

8^2. maun be.

8^3. ye mauna.

8^4. the road.

9^1. you.

9^2. yet for ance.

9^4. on each.

10^1. a’ wanting: the wrang way shod.

10^3. Jock’s on his.

11^3. nogs on each.

13^3. the gate untill.

14^1. twa the Armstrangs wrang.

14^2. Wi fute or hand.

14^4. cast the.

15^4. Art thou weary.

16^4. to mese my waes does.

17^1. out and.

17^2. Now fear ye na.

17^3. here are.

18^1. Now haud thy tongue, my gude Laird’s Jock.

18^2. For ever alas this canna be.

18^3. was.

19^4. dark and.

20^4. be sworn we’ll.

21^4. a’ to.

22^2. Jock has.

23 wanting.

28^2. I hae lived here threty.

29^1. out and.

29^4. come.

30^1. cried the Laird’s ane Jock.

30^2. but him.

30^3. I’ll guide thee.

31^1. Wi that: they hae.

31^3. quo the.

32^1. the other brae.

32^4. lads baith stout.

33^2. says he.

33^3. Then cried aloud, The prisoner take.

33^4. the fetters.

34^1. quo the.

34^3. bay mare.

34^4. She has: right dear.

35^1. are onto.

36^2. is comd.

36^3. ingle side.

36^4. twixt thee.

37 wanting.

Scott changes Campbell’s readings for Caw’s now and then, and Caw’s for his own.

#C.#

Written continuously after the first stanza, and mostly without punctuation. The end of a stanza is indicated after 3 by the insertion of the burden. Some one, probably Percy, has attempted to show the proper separation by marks between the lines. #B# has been taken as a guide for the divisions here adopted.

9^1. And when they came there ends 8^4 in the MS.

11^2. Jnº for John.

14^2. And of thy talk, etc., is a line by itself in the MS.

16^3. And me.

19^2. Two lines in the MS.

20^2. Perhaps dos’.

20^3. Unto ℰ.

21^{2,3}, 24, 28. The lines are run together.

31. And says now John the day continues 30^4 in the MS.

#D.#

5^3. s....d, illegible.

7^1. Perhaps Swinburin.

9^3. gang has been changed to hang, or hang to gang: neither is quite intelligible.

1, 2, 3 are in the MS. 2, 3, 1.

188

ARCHIE O CAWFIELD

#A.# ‘Archie of the Cawfield,’ communicated to Percy by Miss Fisher of Carlisle, 1780.

#B. a.# ‘Archie of Cafield,’[323] Glenriddell MSS, XI, 14, 1791; Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 177. #b.# ‘Archie of Ca’field,’ Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, II, 116.

#C.# ‘The Three Brothers,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 111.

#D.# ‘Billie Archie,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 467, communicated by Buchan, and by him derived from James Nicol of Strichen; Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 335.

#E.# Macmath MS., p. 76, fragments.

#F.# Communicated by Mr J. M. Watson, of Clark’s Island, Plymouth Harbor, Massachusetts.

#B a# was printed by Scott in the first edition of his Minstrelsy, with the omission of stanzas 11, 13, 15^{3–6} (15^{3,4}, 16^{1,2}, of the MS.), 17^{3,4} (18^{1,2} of the MS.), 27, 28, and with many editorial improvements, besides Scotticising of the spelling. Of #B b#, the form in which the ballad appears in the later edition of the Minstrelsy, the editor says that he has been enabled to add several stanzas obtained from recitation, of which he remarks that, “as they contrast the brutal indifference of the elder brother with the zeal and spirit of his associates, they add considerably to the dramatic effect of the whole.” The new stanzas are ten, and partly displace some of #a#. None of the omitted stanzas are restored, and the other changes previously made are retained, except of course where new stanzas have been introduced.

This ballad is in all the salient features a repetition of ‘Jock o the Side,’ Halls playing the parts of Armstrongs. The Halls are several times complained of for reif and away-taking of ky, oxen, etc., in 1579. There is a Jok Hall of the Sykis, Jok Hall, called Paitti’s Jok, a Jokie Hall in the Clintis, and the name Archie Hall occurs, which is, to be sure, a matter of very slight consequence. See the Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, III, 236 f., 354 f. Cafield is about a mile west of Langholm, in Wauchopedale. The Armstrongs had spread into Wauchopedale in the sixteenth century, and Jock Armstrong of the Caffeild appears in the Registers of the Privy Council, III, 43, 85, 133, 535. I have not found Halls of Caffeild, and hope not to do them injustice by holding that some friend or member of that sept has substituted their name, for the glory of the family.[324]

From a passage in A History of Dumfries, by William Bennet, in The Dumfries Monthly Magazine, III, 9 f., July, 1826 (kindly brought to my attention by Mr Macmath), there appears to have been a version of this ballad in which the Johnstones played the part of the Halls, or Armstrongs; but against their enemies the Maxwells, not against the public authority. A gentleman of Dumfries informed Bennet that he had “often, in early life, listened to an interesting ballad, sung by an old female chronicle of the town, which was founded upon the following circumstance. In some fray between the Maxwells and Johnstones, the former had taken the chief of the latter prisoner, and shut him up in the jail of Dumfries, in Lochmaben gate; for in Dumfries they possessed almost the same power as in the Stewartry of Annandale, Crichton of Sanquhar, who was then hereditary sheriff of Nithsdale, being their retainer. In a dark night shortly afterwards, a trusty band of the Johnstones marched secretly into Dumfries, and, surprising the jail-keepers, bore off their chief, manacled as he then was, and, placing him behind one of their troopers, galloped off towards the head of Locher, there to regain the Tinwald side and strike into the mountains of Moffat before their enemies should have leisure to start in pursuit. A band of the Maxwells, happening to be in town, and instantly receiving the alarm, started in pursuit of the fugitives, and overtook them about the dawn of morning, just as they had suddenly halted upon the banks of the Locher, and seemed to hesitate about risking its passage; for the stream was much swollen by a heavy rain which had lately fallen, and seemed to threaten destruction to any who should dare to enter it. On seeing the Maxwells, however, and reflecting upon the comparative smallness of their own party, they plunged in, and, by dextrous management, reached in safety the opposite bank at the moment their pursuers drew up on the brink of that which they had left. The Johnstones had now the decided advantage, for, had their enemies ventured to cross, they could, while struggling against the current, have been easily destroyed. The bloodthirsty warriors raged and shook their weapons at each other across the stream; but the flood rolled on as if in mockery of their threatenings, and the one party at length galloped off in triumph, while the other was compelled to return in disgrace.”

There are three Halls in #A#, #B#, #C#, brothers, of whom Archie is a prisoner, condemned to die. The actors in #D# are not said to be brothers or Halls; the prisoner is Archie, as before. In #A#, Jock the laird and Dickie effect the rescue, assisted by Jocky Ha, a cousin. Dick is the leader, Jocky Ha subordinate, and Jock the laird is the despondent and repining personage, corresponding to Much in Jock o the Side, #A#, #D#, and to the Laird’s Wat, #B#, #C#. In #B#, Dick is the only brother named; he and Jokie Hall from Teviotdale effect the rescue; Jokie Hall is prominent, and Dickie has the second place; Archie the prisoner is faint-hearted, but, properly speaking, that part is omitted. Jokie Hall represents Hobie Noble, who is the leader in #A# of the other ballad, as Jokie is here in #B#, and also #C#; whereas Dick is the leader in #A#, #D# of the ballad before us, and represents the Laird’s Jock, who is principal in #B#, #C# of the other. In #B#, #C#, only two are concerned in breaking the jail. In #C#, Dick loses heart, or has the place of Much; in #D#, Caff o Lin.

In #A# 38, Jock the laird says his colt will drown him if he attempts to cross the river; so Dick in #B# 23 (for it can be no other, though Dick is not named) and in #C# 24, and Caff o Lin in #D# 14. They have not two attacks of panic, as Much has in ‘Jock o the Side,’ #A#, with such excellent effect in bringing out Hobie Noble’s steadiness. To make up for this, however, the laird has an unheroic qualm after all is well over, in #A# 44: the dearsome night has cost him Cawfield! It is a fine-spirited answer that Dick makes: ‘Light o thy lands! we should not have been three brothers.’ In one of the stanzas which Scott added in #B b#, “coarse Ca’field,” that is, the laird again, is addressed (inconsecutively, as the verses stand) with the like reproach: ‘Wad ye even your lands to your born billy!’

Archie is prisoner at Dumfries in #A#, #B#, at Annan in #C#; in #D# no place is mentioned. The route followed in #A# is Barnglish,[325] only two or three miles westward, where the horseshoes are turned, 8; Bonshaw wood, where they take counsel, 10; over the Annan at Hoddam, 12, to Dumfries, 13; back by Bonshaw Shield, where they again take counsel, 29; over the Annan at Annan Holm (Annan Bank?), opposite Wamphray (where the Johnstones would be friendly), 31, to Cafield. Bonshaw Shield would have to be somewhere between Dumfries and Annan Water; it seems to be an erroneous repetition of the Bonshaw on the left of the Annan.

The route in #B# is The Murraywhat, where shoes are turned, 6; Dumfries, 8; back by Lochmaben, 17; The Murraywhat, where they file off the shackles, 18; to and across the Annan. Here we may ask why the shoes are not changed earlier; for The Murraywhat is on the west side of the Annan. The route in #C# is not described; there is no reason, if they start from Cafield (see 23), why they should cross the Annan, the town being on the eastern side. All difficulties are escaped in #D# by giving no names.

The New England copy, #F#, naturally enough, names no places. There are three brothers, as in #A#, #B#, #C#, and Dickie is the leader. The prisoner, here called Archer, gives up hope when he comes to the river; his horse is lame and cannot swim; but horses are shifted, and he gets over. His spirits are again dashed when he sees the sheriff in pursuit.

#A#, 6^2, 14^2, 16^4, ‘for leugh o Liddesdale cracked he,’ is explained by #B a#, 10^2, ‘fra the laigh of Tiviotdale was he;’ he bragged for lower Liddesdale, was from lower Liddesdale; it seems to be a sort of εὔχετο εἶναι. #B b# reads (that is, Scott corrects), ‘The luve of Teviotdale was he.’ #B a#, 16^4, ‘And her girth was the gold-twist to be,’ is unintelligible to me, and appears to be corrupt, #b# reads, And that was her gold-twist to be, an emendation of Scott’s, gold-twist meaning “the small gilded chains drawn across the chest of a war-horse.” The three stanzas introduced in #B b# after 7 (the colloquy with the smith) are indifferent modern stuff. This and something worse are #C# 14, where Johnny Ha takes the prisoner on his back and leads the mare, the refreshments in 16, 17, and the sheriff in 19–21, 28, 29.

A

Communicated to Percy by Miss Fisher of Carlisle, 1780.

1 Late in an evening forth as I went, ’Twas on the dawning of the day; I heard two brothers make their moan, I listend well what they did say.

2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . We were three born brethren, There[s] one of us condemnd to die.

3 Then up bespake Jock the laird: ‘If I had but a hundre men, A hundred o th best i Christenty, I wad go on to fair Dumfries, I wad loose my bro_the_r and set him free.’

4 So up bespak then Dicky Ha, He was the wisest o the three: ‘A hundre men we’ll never get, Neither for gold nor fee, But some of them will us betray; They’l neither fight for gold nor fee.

5 ‘Had I but ten well-wight men, Ten o the best i Christenty, I w_a_d gae on to fair Dumfries, I w_a_d loose my bro_th_er and set him free.

6 ‘Jocky Ha, our cousin, ’s be the first man’ (For leugh o Liddesdale cracked he); ‘An ever we come till a pinch, He’ll be as good as ony three.’

7 They mounted ten well-wight men, Ten o the best i Christenty; . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

8 There was horsing and horsing of haste, And cracking o whips out oer the lee, Till they came to fair Barngliss, And they ca’d the smith right quietly.

9 He has shod them a’ their horse, He’s shod them siccer and honestly, And he as turnd the cawkers backwards oer, Where foremost they were wont to be.

10 And there was horsing, horsing of haste, And cracking of whips out oer the lee, Until they came to the Bonshaw wood, Where they held their council privately.

11 Some says, We’ll gang the Annan road, It is the better road, s_ai_d they; Up bespak then Dicky Ha, The wisest of that company.

12 ‘Annan road’s a publick road, It’s no the road that makes for me; But we will through at Hoddam ford, It is the better road,’ said he.

13 And there was horsing, horsing o haste, And cracking of whips out oer the lea, Until they came to fair Dumfries, And it was newly strucken three.

14 Up bespake then Jocky Ha, For leugh o Liddesdale cracked he: ‘I have a mare, they ca her Meg, She is the best i Christenty; An ever we come till a pinch, She’ll bring awa both thee and me.’

15 ‘But five we’ll leave to had our horse, And five will watch, guard for to be; Who is the man,’ said Dicky then, ‘To the prison-door will go with me?’

16 Up bespak then Jocky Ha, For leugh o Liddesdale cracked he: ‘I am the man,’ said Jocky than, ‘To the prison-door I’ll go with thee.’

17 They are up the jail-stair, They stepped it right soberly, Until they came to the jail-door; They ca’d the prisoner quietly.

18 ‘O sleeps thou, wakest thou, Archie, my billy? O sleeps thou, wakes thou, dear billy?’ ‘Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I wake; But who’s that knows my name so well?’ [said he.] ‘I am thy brother Dicky,’ he says; ‘This night I’m come to borrow thee.’

19 But up bespake the prisoner then, And O but he spake woefully! ‘Today has been a justice-court, . . . . . . . And a’ Liddesdale were here the night, The morn’s the day at I’se to die.’

20 ‘What is thy crime, Archie, my billy? What is the crime they lay to thee?’ ‘I brake a spear i the warden’s breast, For saving my master’s land,’ said he.

21 ‘If that be a’ the crime they lay to thee, Archie, my billy, If that be the crime they lay to thee, Work thou within, and me without, And thro good strength I’ll borrow thee.’

22 ‘I cannot work, billy,’ he says, ‘I cannot work, billy, with thee, For fifteen stone of Spanish iron Lyes fast to me with lock and key.’

23 When Dicky he heard that, ‘Away, thou crabby chiel!’ cried he; He’s taen the door aye with his foot, And fast he followd it with his knee. Till a’ the bolts the door hung on, O th’ prison-floor he made them flee.

24 ‘Thou’s welcome, welcome, Archy, my billy, Thou’s aye right dear welcome to me; There shall be straiks this day,’ he said, ‘This day or thou be taen from me.’

25 He’s got the prisoner on o his back, He’s gotten him irons and aw, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

26 Up bespake then Jocky Ha, ‘Let some o th’ prisoner lean on me;’ ‘The diel o there,’ quo Dicky than, ‘He’s no the wightdom of a flea.’

27 They are on o that gray mare, And they are on o her aw three, And they linked the irons about her neck, And galloped the street right wantonly.

28 ‘To horse, to horse,’ then, ‘all,’ he says, ‘Horse ye with all the might ye may, For the jailor he will waken next; And the prisoners had a’ wan away.’

29 There was horsing, horsing of haste, And cracking o whips out oer the lea, Until they came to the Bonshaw Shield; There they held their council privately.

30 Some says, ‘We’ll gang the Annan road; It is the better road,’ said they; But up bespak than Dicky Ha, The wisest of that company:

31 ‘Annan road’s a publick road, It’s not the road that makes for me; But we will through at Annan Holme, It is the better road,’ said he; ‘An we were in at Wamfrey Gate, The Johnstones they will a’ help me.’

32 But Dicky lookd oer his left shoulder, I wait a wiley look gave he; He spied the leiutenant coming, And a hundre men of his company.

33 ‘So horse ye, horse ye, lads!’ he said, ‘O horse ye, sure and siccerly! For yonder is the lieuten_an_t, With a hundred men of his company.’

34 There was horsing, horsing of haste, And cracking o whips out oer the lea, Until they came to Annan Holme, And it was running like a sea.

35 But up bespake the lieutenant, Until a bonny lad said he, ‘Who is the man,’ said the leiuten_an_t, ‘Rides foremost of yon company?’

36 Then up bespake the bonny lad, Until the lieuten_an_t said he, ‘Some men do ca him Dicky Ha, Rides foremost of yon company.’

37 ‘O haste ye, haste ye!’ said the leiuten_an_t, ‘Pursue with a’ the might ye may! For the man had needs to be well saint That comes thro the hands o Dicky Ha.’

38 But up bespak Jock the laird, ‘This has been a dearsome night to me; I’ve a colt of four years old, I wait he wannelld like the wind; If ever he come to the deep, He will plump down, leave me behind.’

39 ‘Wae light o thee and thy horse baith, Jock, And even so thy horse and thee! Take thou mine, and I’ll take thine, Foul fa the warst horse i th’ company! I’ll cast the prisoner me behind; There’ll no man die but him that’s fee.’

40 There they’ve a’taen the flood, And they have taen it hastily; Dicky was the hindmost took the flood, And foremost on the land stood he.

41 Dicky’s turnd his horse about, And he has turnd it hastilly: ‘Come through, come thro, my lieuten_an_t, Come thro this day, and drink wi me, And thy dinner’s be dressd in Annan Holme, It sall not cost thee one penny.’

42 ‘I think some witch has bore the, Dicky, Or some devil in hell been thy daddy; I w_ou_d not swum that wan water double-horsed, For a’ the gold in Christenty.

43 ‘But throw me thro my irons, Dicky, I wait they cost me full dear;’ ‘O devil be there,’ quo Jocky Hall, ‘They’l be good shoon to my gray mare.’

44 O up bespoke then Jock the laird, ‘This has been a dearsome night to me; For yesternight the Cawfield was my ain, Landsman again I neer sall be.’

45 ‘Now wae light o thee and thy lands baith, Jock, And even so baith the land and thee! For gear will come and gear will gang, But three brothers again we never were to be.’

B

#a.# Glenriddell MSS, XI, 14, 1791, “an old West Border ballad.” #b.# Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, II, 116.

1 As I was walking mine alane, It was by the dawning o the day, I heard twa brothers make their maine, And I listned well what they did say.

2 The eldest to the youngest said, ‘O dear brother, how can this be! There was three brethren of us born, And one of us is condemnd to die.’

3 ‘O chuse ye out a hundred men, A hundred men in Christ[e]ndie, And we’ll away to Dumfries town, And set our billie Archie free.’

4 ‘A hundred men you cannot get, Nor yet sixteen in Christendie; For some of them will us betray, And other some will work for fee.

5 ‘But chuse ye out eleven men, And we ourselves thirteen will be, And we’ill away to Dumfries town, And borrow bony billie Archie.’

6 There was horsing, horsing in haste, And there was marching upon the lee, Untill they came to the Murraywhat, And they lighted a’ right speedylie.

7 ‘A smith, a smith!’ Dickie he crys, ‘A smith, a smith, right speedily, To turn back the cakers of our horses feet! For it is forward we woud be.’

8 There was a horsing, horsing in haste, There was marching on the lee, Untill they came to Dumfries port, And there they lighted right manfulie.

9 ‘Thereś six of us will hold the horse, And other five watchmen will be; But who is the man among you a’ Will go to the Tolbooth door wi me?’

10 O up then spake Jokie Hall (Fra the laigh of Tiviotdale was he), ‘If it should cost my life this very night, I’ll ga to the Tollbooth door wi thee.’

11 ‘O sleepst thou, wakest thow, Archie laddie? O sleepst thou, wakest thow, dear billie?’ ‘I sleep but saft, I waken oft, For the morn’s the day that I man die.’

12 ‘Be o good cheer now, Archie lad, Be o good cheer now, dear billie; Work thow within and I without, And the morn thou’s dine at Cafield wi me.’

13 ‘O work, O work, Archie?’ he cries, ‘O work, O work? ther’s na working for me; For ther’s fifteen stane o Spanish iron, And it lys fow sair on my body.’

14 O Jokie Hall stept to the door, And he bended it back upon his knee, And he made the bolts that the door hang on Jump to the wa right wantonlie.

15 He took the prisoner on his back, And down the Tollbooth stairs came he; Out then spak Dickie and said, Let some o the weight fa on me; ‘O shame a ma!’ co Jokie Ha, ‘For he’s no the weight of a poor flee.’

16 The gray mare stands at the door, And I wat neer a foot stirt she, Till they laid the links out oer her neck, And her girth was the gold-twist to be.

17 And they came down thro Dumfries town, And O but they came bonily! Untill they came to Lochmaben port, And they leugh a’ the night manfulie.

18 There was horsing, horsing in haste, And there was marching on the lee, Untill they came to the Murraywhat, And they lighted a’ right speedilie.

19 ‘A smith, a smith!’ Dickie he cries, ‘A smith, a smith, right speedilie, To file off the shakles fra my dear brother! For it is forward we wad be.’

20 They had not filtt a shakle of iron, A shakle of iron but barely three, Till out then spake young Simon brave, ‘Ye do na see what I do see.

21 ‘Lo yonder comes Liewtenant Gordon, And a hundred men in his company:’ ‘O wo is me!’ then Archie cries, ‘For I’m the prisoner, and I must die.’

22 O there was horsing, horsing in haste, And there was marching upon the lee, Untill they came to Annan side, And it was flowing like the sea.

23 ‘I have a colt, and he’s four years old, And he can amble like the wind, But when he comes to the belly deep, He lays himself down on the ground.’

24 ‘But I have a mare, and they call her Meg. And she’s the best in Christendie; Set ye the prisoner me behind; Ther’ll na man die but he that’s fae!’

25 Now they did swim that wan water, And O but they swam bonilie! Untill they came to the other side, And they wrang their cloathes right drunk[i]lie.

26 ‘Come through, come through, Lieutenant Gordon! Come through, and drink some wine wi me! For ther’s a ale-house neer hard by, And it shall not cost thee one penny.’

27 ‘Throw me my irons, Dickie!’ he cries, ‘For I wat they cost me right dear;’ ‘O shame a ma!’ cries Jokie Ha, ‘For they’ll be good shoon to my gray mare.’

28 ‘Surely thy minnie has been some witch, Or thy dad some warlock has been; Else thow had never attempted such, Or to the bottom thow had gone.

29 ‘Throw me my irons, Dickie!’ he cries, ‘For I wot they cost me dear enough;’ ‘O shame a ma!’ cries Jokie Ha, ‘They’ll be good shakles to my plough.’

30 ‘Come through, come through, Liewtenant Gordon! Come throw, and drink some wine wi me! For yesterday I was your prisoner, But now the night I am set free.’

C

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 111.

1 As I walked on a pleasant green— ’Twas on the first morning of May— I heard twa brothers make their moan, And hearkend well what they did say.

2 The first he gave a grievous sigh, And said, Alas, and wae is me! We hae a brother condemned to death, And the very morn must hanged be.

3 Then out it speaks him Little Dick, I wat a gude fellow was he: ‘Had I three men unto mysell, Well borrowed shoud Bell Archie be.’

4 Out it speaks him Johnny Ha, A better fellow by far was he: ‘Ye shall hae six men and yoursell, And me to bear you companie.

5 ‘Twa for keepers o the guard, See that to keep it sickerlie, And twa to come, and twa to gang, And twa to speak wi Bell Archie.

6 ‘But we winna gang like men o weir, Nor yet will we like cavalliers; But we will gang like corn-buyers, And we’ll put brechens on our mares.’

7 Then they are to the jail-house doors, And they hae tirled at the pin: ‘Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Bell Archie? Quickly rise, lat us come in.’

8 ‘I sleep not aft, I lie not saft; Wha’s there that knocks and kens my name?’ ‘It is your brothers Dick and John; Ye’ll open the door, lat us come in.’

9 ‘Awa, awa, my brethren dear, And ye’ll had far awa frae me; If ye be found at jail-house door, I fear like dogs they’ll gar ye die.’

10 ‘Ohon, alas! my brother dear, Is this the hearkning ye gie to me? If ye’ll work therein as we thereout, Well borrowd shoud your body be.’

11 ‘How can I work therein, therein, Or yet how can I work thereout, When fifty tons o Spanish iron Are my fair body round about?’

12 He put his fingers to the lock, I wat he handled them sickerlie, And doors of deal, and bands of steel, He gart them all in flinders flee.

13 He’s taen the prisoner in his arms, And he has kissd him cheek and chin: ‘Now since we’ve met, my brother dear, There shall be dunts ere we twa twine.’

14 He’s taen the prisoner on his back, And a’ his heavy irons tee, But and his marie in his hand, And straight to Annan gate went he.

15 But when they came to Annan water, It was roaring like the sea: ‘O stay a little, Johnny Ha, Here we can neither fecht nor flee.

16 ‘O a refreshment we maun hae, We are baith dry and hungry tee; We’ll gang to Robert’s at the mill, It stands upon yon lily lee.’

17 Up in the morning the jailor raise, As soon’s ’twas light that he coud see; Wi a pint o wine and a mess sae fine, Into the prison-house went he.

18 When he came to the prison-door, A dreary sight he had to see; The locks were shot, the doors were broke, And a’ the prisoners won free.

19 ‘Ye’ll gae and waken Annan town, Raise up five hundred men and three; And if these rascals may be found, I vow like dogs I’ll gar them die.

20 ‘O dinna ye hear proud Annan roar, Mair loud than ever roard the sea? We’ll get the rascals on this side, Sure they can neither fecht nor flee.

21 ‘Some gar ride, and some gar rin, Wi a’ the haste that ye can make; We’ll get them in some tavern-house, For Annan water they winna take.’

22 As Little Dick was looking round, All for to see what he could see, Saw the proud sheriff trip the plain, Five hundred men his companie.

23 ‘O fare ye well, my bonny wife, Likewise farewell, my children three! Fare ye well, ye lands o Cafield! For you again I neer will see.

24 ‘For well I kent, ere I came here, That Annan water woud ruin me; My horse is young, he’ll nae lat ride, And in this water I maun die.’

25 Out it speaks him Johnny Ha, I wat a gude fellow was he: ‘O plague upo your cowardly face! The bluntest man I eer did see.

26 ‘Gie me your horse, take ye my mare, The devil drown my mare and thee! Gie me the prisoner on behind, And nane will die but he that’s fay.’

27 He quickly lap upo the horse, And strait the stirrups siccarlie, And jumpd upo the other side, Wi the prisoner and his irons tee.

28 The sheriff then came to the bank, And heard its roaring like the sea; Says, How these men they hae got ower, It is a marvel unto me.

29 ‘I wadna venture after them, For a’ the criminals that I see; Nevertheless now, Johnny Ha, Throw ower the fetters unto me.’

30 ‘Deil part you and the fetters,’ he said, ‘As lang as my mare needs a shee; If she gang barefoot ere they be done, I wish an ill death mat ye die.’

31 ‘Awa, awa, now Johnny Ha, Your talk to me seems very snell; Your mither’s been some wild rank witch, And you yoursell an imp o hell.’

D

Motherwell’s MS., p. 467, “received in MS. by Buchan from Mr Nicol, of Strichen, who wrote as he had learned early in life from old people:” Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 335.

1 ‘Seven years have I loved my love, And seven years my love’s loved me, But now to-morrow is the day That billy Archie, my love, must die.’

2 O then out spoke him Little Dickie, And still the best fellow was he: ‘Had I but five men and my self, Then we would borrow billy Archie.’

3 Out it spoke him Caff o Lin, And still the worst fellow was he: ‘You shall have five men and yourself, And I will bear you companye.’

4 ‘We will not go like to dragoons, Nor yet will we like grenadiers, But we will go like corn-dealers, And lay our brechams on our meares.

5 ‘And twa of us will watch the road, And other twa will go between, And I will go to jail-house door, And hold the prisoner unthought lang.’

6 ‘Who is this at jail-house door, So well as they do know the gin?’ ‘It’s I myself,’ [said] him Little Dickie, ‘And oh sae fain ’s I would be in!’

7 ‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie! Away, let all your folly be! If the Lord Lieutenant come on you, Like unto dogs he’ll cause you die.’

8 ‘Hold you, hold you, billy Archie, And now let all your folly be! Tho I die without, you’ll not die within, For borrowed shall your body be.’

9 ‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie! Away, let all this folly be! An hundred pounds of Spanish irons Is all bound on my fair bodie.’

10 Wi plough-culters and gavellocks They made the jail-house door to flee; ‘And in God’s name,’ said Little Dickie, ‘Cast you the prisoner behind me!’

11 They had not rode a great way off, With all the haste that ever could be, Till they espied the Lord Lieutenant, With a hundred men in’s companie.

12 But when they came to wan water, It now was rumbling like the sea; Then were they got into a strait, As great a strait as well could be.

13 Then out did speak him Caff o Lin, And aye the warst fellow was he: ‘Now God be with my wife and bairns! For fatherless my babes will be.

14 ‘My horse is young, he cannot swim; The water’s deep, and will not wade; My children must be fatherless, My wife a widow, whateer betide.’

15 O then cried out him Little Dickie, And still the best fellow was he: ‘Take you my mare, I’ll take your horse, And Devil drown my mare and thee!’

16 Now they have taken the wan water, Tho it was roaring like the sea, And whan they got to the other side, I wot they bragged right crouselie.

17 ‘Come thro, come thro now, Lord Lieutenant! O do come thro, I pray of thee! There is an alehouse not far off, We’ll dine you and your companye.’

18 ‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie! O now let all your taunting be! There’s not a man in the king’s army That would have tried what’s done by thee.

19 ‘Cast back, cast back my fetters again! Cast back my fetters! I say to thee; And get you gane the way you came, I wish no prisoners like to thee.’

20 ‘I have a mare, she’s called Meg, The best in all our low countrie; If she gang barefoot till they are done, An ill death may your lordship die!’

E

Macmath MS, p. 76. “Taken down by me, September, 1886, from my aunt, Miss Jane Webster: heard by her in her youth, at Airds.”

1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘We’ll awa to bonnie Dundee, And set our brither Archie free.’

* * * * *

2 They broke through locks, and they broke through bars, And they broke through everything that cam in their way, Until they cam to a big iron gate, And that’s where brother Archie lay.

[Little John says]

3 . . . . . . . ‘O brither Archie speak to me, . . . . . . . For we are come to set ye free.’

4 . . . . . . . ‘Such a thing it canna be, For there’s fifty pund o gude Spanish airn Atween my neckbane and my knee.’

F

Communicated by Mr J. M. Watson, of Clark’s Island, Plymouth Harbor, Massachusetts, April 10, 1889, as remembered by him from the singing of his father.

1 As I walked out one morning in May, Just before the break of day, I heard two brothers a making their moan, And I listened a while to what they did say. I heard, etc.

2 ‘We have a brother in prison,’ said they, ‘Oh in prison lieth he! If we had but ten men just like ourselves, The prisoner we would soon set free.’

3 ‘Oh no, no, no!’ Bold Dickie said he, ‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be! For forty men is full little enough And I for to ride in their companie.

4 ‘Ten to hold the horses in, Ten to guard the city about, Ten for to stand at the prison-door, And ten to fetch poor Archer out.’

5 They mounted their horses, and so rode they, Who but they so merrilie! They rode till they came to a broad river’s side, And there they alighted so manfullie.

6 They mounted their horses, and so swam they, Who but they so merrilie! They swam till they came to the other side, And there they alighted so manfullie.

7 They mounted their horses, and so rode they, Who but they so merrilie! They rode till they came to that prison-door, And then they alighted so manfullie.

8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘For I have forty men in my companie, And I have come to set you free.’

9 ‘Oh no, no, no!’ poor Archer says he, ‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be! For I have forty pounds of good Spanish iron Betwixt my ankle and my knee.’

10 Bold Dickie broke lock, Bold Dickie broke key, Bold Dickie broke everything that he could see; He took poor Archer under one arm, And carried him out so manfullie.

11 They mounted their horses, and so rode they, Who but they so merrilie! They rode till they came to that broad river’s side, And there they alighted so manfullie.

12 ‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ poor Archer says he, ‘Take my love home to my wife and children three; For my horse grows lame, he cannot swim, And here I see that I must die.’

13 They shifted their horses, and so swam they, Who but they so merrilie! They swam till they came to the other side, And there they alighted so manfullie.

14 ‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ poor Archer says he, ‘Look you yonder there and see; For the high-sheriff he is a coming, With an hundred men in his companie.’

15 ‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ High-sheriff said he, ‘You’re the damndest rascal that ever I see! Go bring me back the iron you’ve stole, And I will set the prisoner free.’

16 ‘Oh no, no, no!’ Bold Dickie said he, ‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be! For the iron ‘twill do to shoe the horses, The blacksmith rides in our companie.’

17 ‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ High-sheriff says he, ‘You’re the damndest rascal that ever I see!’ ‘I thank ye for nothing,’ Bold Dickie says he, ‘And you’re a damned fool for following me.’

* * * * *

#A.#

Written in long lines, without division into stanzas, excepting a few instances.

1^1. folk I saw went.

13^2. And cracking, etc.

13^4. 3.

29^2. o whips, etc.

42^3. one water.

42^4. Xtenty.

43^1. Perhaps we should read, But throw me, throw me.

#B. a.#

12^4. Capeld.

15^{5,6} are 16^{1,2}: 16^{1,2} are 16^{3,4}: 16^{3,4}, 17^{1,2}: 17^{1,2}, 17^{3,4}: 17^{3,4}, 18^{1,2}: 18^{1–4}, 18^{3–6}.

#b.#

1^1. a-walking.

1^4. weel to what.

2^{1,2}. The youngest to the eldest said, Blythe and merrie how can we be.

2^3. were.

3–5. ‘An ye wad be merrie, an ye wad be sad, What the better wad billy Archie be? Unless I had thirty men to mysell, And a’to ride in my cumpanie.

‘Ten to hald the horses’ heads, And other ten the watch to be, And ten to break up the strong prison Where billy Archie he does lie.’

Then up and spak him mettled John Hall (The luve of Teviotdale aye was he); ‘An I had eleven men to mysell, It’s aye the twalt man I wad be.’

Then up bespak him coarse Ca’field (I wot and little gude worth was he); ‘Thirty men is few anew, And a’ to ride in our companie.’

6^2. on the.

6^3. the wanting.

6^4, 18^4. there for a’.

7^3. shoon for feet.

7^4. it’s unkensome.

After 7: ‘There lives a smith on the water-side Will shoe my little black mare for me, And I’ve a crown in my pocket, And every groat of it I wad gie.’

‘The night is mirk, and it’s very mirk, And by candle-light I canna weel see; The night is mirk, and it’s very pit mirk, And there will never a nail ca right for me.’

‘Shame fa you and your trade baith! Canna beet a good fellow by your mystery; But leeze me on thee, my little black mare! Thou’s worth thy weight in gold to me.’

8^1. a wanting.

8^2. And there: upon.

8^4. And they lighted there right speedilie.

9^1. There’s five.

9^2. will watchmen be.

9^3. ye a’.

10^1. spak him mettled John Hall.

10^2. of wanting.

11 wanting.

12^3. and we.

12^4. Ca’field.

13 wanting.

14^2. bended low back his knee.

14^3. that wanting.

14^4. Loup frae the.

15^2. stair.

15^{3–6} wanting.

16^1. The black mare stood ready at.

16^2. And wanting: I wot a foot neer stirred she.

16^3. Till wanting.

16^4. And that was her gold.

17^2. And wow: speedilie.

17^{3,4} wanting.

18^{1,2}. The live-lang night these twelve men rade, And aye till they were right wearie.

18^4. lighted there right.

19^1. then Dickie.

19^3. file the irons frae.

19^4. For forward, forward.

20^1. hadna filed.

20^3. When out and spak.

20^4. O dinna you see.

21^2. Wi a.

21^{3,4}. This night will be our lyke-wake night, The morn the day we a’ maun die.

22^1. was mounting, mounting.

22^3. Annan water.

23, 24. ‘My mare is young and very skeigh, And in o the weil she will drown me;’ ‘But ye’ll take mine, and I’ll take thine, And sune through the water we sall be.’

Then up and spak him coarse Ca’field (I wot and little gude worth was he): ‘We had better lose ane than lose a’ the lave; We’ll lose the prisoner, we’ll gae free.’

‘Shame fa you and your lands baith! Wad ye een your lands to your born billy? But hey! bear up, my bonnie black mare, And yet thro the water we sall be.’

25^2. And wow.

25^4. drunkily.

26^3. there is an ale-house here.

26^4. thee ae.

27, 28 wanting.

29^1. irons, quo Lieutenant Gordon.

29^2. For wanting.

29^3. The shame a ma, quo mettled John Ha.

30^3. Yestreen I was.

30^4. now this morning am I free.

#C.#

5^2. Sae that?

#D.#

Slightly changed by Motherwell in printing.

2^1, 15^1, 18^2. Oh.

#E.#

The ancient and veritable ballad of ‘Bold Dickie,’ as sung by A. M. Watson, and remembered and rendered by his son, J. M. Watson.

ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS

VOL. I.

1. Riddles Wisely Expounded.

P. 1 a. Guess or die. A grim kemp, an unco knicht, asks nine riddles of a young man; all are guessed; wherefore the kemp says it shall go well with him. Kristensen, Skattegraveren, II, 97 ff., 154 f., Nos 457, 458, 724; V, 49, No 454.

2. The Elfin Knight.

P. 6. Nigra, No 118, p. 483, ‘Che mestiere è il vostro?’ A sempstress to make a shirt without stitch or seam; a mason to make a room without bricks and mortar.

7 b, second paragraph. Add: ‘Store Fordringer,’ Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 8, No 6.

3. The Fause Knight upon the Road.

P. 20. ‘Kall og svein ungi,’ Hammershaimb, Færøsk Anthologi, p. 283, No 36 (three versions), is another piece of this kind. The boat is in all the copies, Scottish, Swedish, and Färöe.

M. Gaidoz, Mélusine, IV, 207, cites a passage from Plutarch’s life of Numa, c. 15, which is curiously like this ballad. The question being what is the proper expiatory sacrifice when divine displeasure has been indicated by thunderbolts, Zeus instructs Numa that it must be made with heads. Onions’? interposes Numa. With men’s—says Zeus. Hairs? suggests Numa. With LIVE—says Zeus. Sardines? puts in Numa.

4. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight.

P. 22. #E# is given from singing and recitation in Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 1883–86, p. 548.

Mr W. H. Babcock has recently printed the following version, as sung in a Virginian family from “the corner between the Potomac and the Blue Ridge:” The Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 28.

WILSON.

1 Wilson, sitting in his room one day, With his true-love on his knee, Just as happy as happy could be, be, be, Just as happy as happy could be,

2 ‘Do you want for fee?’ said she, ‘Or do you want for gold? Or do you want a handsome ladye, More handsomer than me?’

3 ‘I do want for fee,’ said he, ‘And I do want for gold; But I don’t want a handsomer ladye, More handsomer than thee.

4 ‘Go get some of your father’s fee, And some of your father’s gold, And two of the finest horses he has, And married we will be, be, be, And married we will be.’

5 She mounted on the milk-white steed, And he the iron-grey, And when they got to the broad waterside It was six hours and a half till day.

6 ‘Get down, get down! my pretty fair maid, Get down, get down!’ said he; ‘For it’s nine of the king’s daughters I’ve drowned here, And the tenth one you shall be.

7 ‘Take off, take off that costly silk, For it is a costly thing; It cost your father too much bright gold To drown your fair body in.

8 ‘In stooping down to cut the cords round, Sing, Turn your back on me;’ And with all the strength this lady had, She pushed him right into the sea.

9 ‘Help me out! my pretty fair miss, O help me out!’ said he, ‘And we’ll go down to the Catholic church, And married we will be.’

10 ‘Lie there, lie there! you false-hearted man, Lie there, lie there!’ said she, ‘For it’s nine of the king’s daughters you’ve drowned here, But the tenth one’s drowned thee.’

11 She mounted on the milk-white steed, And led the iron-grey, And when she got to her own father’s house It was three hours and a half till day.

12 While she was walking in the room, Which caused the parrot to wake, Said he, What’s the matter, my pretty fair miss, That you’re up so long before day?

13 ‘Hush up, hush up! my pretty little parrot, Don’t tell no tales on me; Your cage shall be lined with sweet may gold, And the doors of ivorie.’

14 While they were talking all of this, Which caused the old man to wake, Said, What’s the matter, my pretty little parrot, That you chatter so long before day?

15 ‘The cat she sprung against my cage, And surely frightened me, And I called for the pretty fair miss To drive the cat away.’

(1 lacks the third verse; in 2^{1,2}, 3^{1,2}, 4^{1,2}, fee and gold should be exchanged; in 12^2, 14^2, wake should perhaps be say.)

26 b. Add these Danish copies: Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 210 ff., Nos 1198, 1199. (Some stanzas of ‘Kvindemorderen’ are inserted in No 932, III, 177.)

29, 34 f. #O#, #P#. #O# is repeated in Lütolf, Sagen, Bräuche u. Legenden, u. s. w., p. 71, No 29, ‘Schön Anneli;’ #P# in Kurz, Aeltere Dichter, u. s. w., der Schweizer, I, 117. ‘Schön Anneli,’ Töbler, Schweizerische Volkslieder, II, 170, No 6, is an edited copy, mainly #O#, with use of #P#.

42. A variety of #A# in Revue des Traditions populaires, II, 293, communicated by A. Gittée, Chanson wallonne, de Bliquy, environs d’Ath.

42 f. A robber has his hand cut off by a girl. Later he marries her. The day after the marriage they go on horseback to see his relations. On coming to a wood he says, Do you remember the night when you cut off my hand? It is now my turn. He orders her to strip, threatening her with his dagger. When she is in her shift, she begs him to turn away his eyes, seizes the dagger, and cuts his throat. ‘Le Voleur des Crêpes,’ Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, I, 341, No 62. (G. L. K.)

43 b. ‘La Fille de Saint-Martin,’ etc. Add: Roland, II, 171, obtained by Nérée Quépat.

44 a. Nigra, Canti popolari del Piemonte, 1888, p. 90 ff., No 13, ‘Un’ Eroina,’ gives five unpublished versions (#B-F#), ‘La Monferrina,’ #D#, being #A# of this large and beautiful collection.

Add also: Giannini, Canti p. della Montagna Lucchese, 1889, p. 143, ‘La Liberatrice;’ Finamore, Storie p. abruzzesi, in Archivio, I, 207, ‘Lu Pringepe de Meláne.’

44 b. ‘Il Corsaro,’ in Nigra’s collection, No 14, p. 106 ff., with the addition of another version. For ‘La Monferrina incontaminata,’ see Nigra again, ‘La Fuga,’ No 15, pp. 111 ff.; Finamore, in Archivio, I, 87, ‘La Fandell’ e lu Cavaljiere’ (mixed).

#Spanish#, Nos 38–41, ‘Venganza de Honor,’ No 42, ‘La Hija de la Viudina,’ Pidal, Asturian Romances, have the incident of the girl’s killing with his own sword or dagger a caballero who offers her violence. The weapon is dropped in the course of a struggle in all but No 40; in this the damsel says, Give me your sword, and see how I would wear it.

It is a commonplace for a pair on horseback to go a long way without speaking. So Pidal, pp. 114, 115, 130, 133, 135, 159:

Siete leguas anduvieron sin hablar una palabra.

60 a. #A.# Burden. The song in the Tea-Table Miscellany and the music are found in John Squair’s MS., fol. 22, Laing collection, library of the University of Edinburgh, handwriting about 1700. (W. Macmath.)

5. Gil Brenton.

P. 65 b. A ballad from Normandy, published by Legrand, Romania, X, 367, III, which I am surprised to find that I have not mentioned, is a very interesting variety of ‘Gil Brenton,’ more particularly of the Danish ‘Peder og Malfred.’ It has the attempt at substitution (a sister); the wife acknowledges that she had been forced (par ses laquais les bras il me bandit); the husband reveals, and proves, that he was the ravisher. The beginning of the Norman ballad, which is lost, would probably have had the feature of the information given the husband by the shepherdess. Another French ballad, corrupted (environs de Redon, Ille-et-Vilaine), has this and the attempt to pass off the sister; the husband kills his wife. Music is ordered in the last stanza. Rolland, IV, 70. An Italian and a Breton ballad which begin like the Danish, but proceed differently, are spoken of under ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64, II, 102 f.. See now Nigra’s ‘Fidanzata infedele’ in his collection, No 34, p. 197.

6. Willie’s Lady.

P. 82. ‘Hustru og mands moder,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 73, No 436, VII, 97, No 651; ‘Barselkvinden,’ the same, II, 10, No 7. (The tale, p. 83 b, is reprinted by inadvertence, I, 73, No 234.)

7. Earl Brand.

P. 88 a. #B.# “The copy principally used in this edition of the ballad was supplied by Mr Sharpe.” Scott. “The Douglas Tragedy was taught me by a nurserymaid, and was so great a favorite that I committed it to paper as soon as I was able to write.” Sharpe’s Letters, ed. Allardyce, I, 135, August 5, 1802. Sharpe was born in 1781.

88 b. ‘Hr. Kibolt,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VI, 17, No 257, is a good copy of ‘Ribold og Guldborg.’ It has the testaments at the end, like several others (see I, 144 b).

89–91 a. ‘Stolt Hedelil,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 68, No 231, is another version of ‘Hildebrand og Hilde,’ closely resembling #G#. So is ‘Den mislykkede flugt,’ the same, VIII, 17, No 24, with the proper tragic conclusion. Both are inferior copies.

92 a and 489 b. Add: #K#, ‘Kung Vallemo ock liten Kerstin,’ Bergström ock Nordlander, Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., p. 101.

95 b, 96, 489. I have omitted to mention the effect of naming on ‘Clootie’ in No 1, #C# 19, I, 5:

As sune as she the fiend did name, He flew awa in a blazing flame.

The Alpthier loses its power to harm and appears in its proper shape, as this or that person, if called by name: Wuttke, Der deutsche Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart, 2d ed., p. 257. Were-wolves appear in their proper human shape on being addressed by their name: Wilhelm Hertz, Der Werwolf, pp. 61, 84, Ulrich Jahn, Volkssagen aus Pommern u. Rügen, pp. 386–7. An enchanted prince is freed when his name is pronounced: Meier, No 53, p. 188 and n., p. 311. “There was in the engagement a man [on the side of Hades] who could not be vanquished unless his name could be discovered:” Myvyrian Archaiology of Wales, I, 167, as quoted by Rhys, Celtic Mythology, Hibbert Lectures, p. 244. (G. L. K.)

96 ff., 489, II, 498. Plants from lovers’ graves.

Add: #Portuguese#, Roméro, II, 157, two pines.

#Italian#, Nigra, No 18, ‘Le due Tombe,’ p. 125 ff.

#A.# The lovers are buried apart, one in the church, one outside, a pomegranate springs from the man’s grave, an almond-tree from the maid’s; they grow large enough to shade three cities! #B.# A pomegranate is planted on the man’s grave, a hazel on the maid’s; they shade the city, and interlock. #C.# An almond-tree is planted on the maid’s grave, and is cut down. #D.# The lovers are buried as in #A# (and #C#), an almond-tree grows from the grave of the man, a jessamine from the maid’s. See also No 19, ‘Fior di Tomba,’ where, however, there is but one grave, which is to contain the maid’s parents as well as her lover. The same phenomenon in the fragments #E#, #F#. ‘Il Castello d’Oviglio,’ Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, No 45, p. 64, is another version of this ballad. A pomegranate springs up at the maid’s feet, and shades three cities. Cf. ‘La Mort des deux Amants,’ Rolland, I, 247, No 125.

#Roumanian.# ‘Ring and Handkerchief’ also in Marienescu, Balade, p. 50: cited in Mélusine, IV. 142.

97 b and 489 f., II, 498 a. #Bulgarian#, Miladinof, Bùlgarski narodni pěsni, p. 455, No 497, translated by Krauss, Sagen u. Märchen der Südslaven, II, 427; the youth as rose-tree, the maid as grape-vine. Cited by G. Meyer in Mélusine, IV, 87. #Little-Russian#, plane-trees of the two sexes; cited by J. Karlowicz, ib., 87 f. Ruthenian (mother attempting to poison her son’s wife poisons both wife and son), Herrmann, Ethnologische Mittheilungen, 205 f.; buried on different sides of the church, plants meet over the roof of the church, the mother tries to cut them down, and while so engaged is turned into a pillar.

#Servian.# Vuk, I, No 342, II, No 30; youth, pine, maid, grape-vine. Krasić, p. 105, No 21, p. 114, No 26; vine and pine, vine twines round pine. #Bulgarian#, Miladinof, p. 375, No 288, rose and vine. #Magyar-Croat#, Kurelac, p. 147, No 444, grape-vine and rose; No 445, youth behind the church, maid before, grape-vine and rose; p. 154, No 454, rosemary and a white flower (aleluja?). (W. W.)

#Breton.# Mélusine, III, 453 f. A tree springs from over the young man’s heart (but this is an insertion, and not quite beyond suspicion), a rose from the maid’s. There is another version of the ballad at p. 182 f., in which une fleur dorée grows over the man’s grave, nothing being said of his mistress’s grave, or even of her death.

#Italo-Albanian.# Also in Vigo, Canti p. siciliani, 1857, p. 345, V, and the edition of 1870–74, p. 698: cited in Mélusine, IV, 87.

#Gaelic.# Of Naisi (Naois) and Deirdre. King Conor caused them to be buried far apart, but for some days the graves would be found open in the morning and the lovers found together. The king ordered stakes of yew to be driven through the bodies, so that they might be kept asunder. Yew trees grew from the stakes, and so high as to embrace each other over the cathedral of Armagh. Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Dublin, I, 133, 1808.

In a Scotch-Gaelic version recently obtained, after Naois is put into his grave, Deirdre jumps in, lies down by his side and dies. The bad king orders her body to be taken out and buried on the other side of a loch. Firs shoot out of the two graves and unite over the loch. The king has the trees cut down twice, but the third time his wife makes him desist from his vengeance on the dead. The original in Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, XIII, 257; a translation in The Celtic Magazine, XIII, 138. (All of these cited by Gaidoz, Mélusine, IV, 12, and 62, note.)

8. Erlinton.

107 b, and also No 53, ‘Young Beichan,’ I, 463 b. For the Magyar ballads of Szilágyi and Hagymási, see Herrmann, Ethnologische Mittheilungen, cols 65–66; also col. 215. (A Transylvanian-Saxon ballad, a Roumanian tale, and a Transylvanian-Gipsy ballad, which follow, are of more or less questionable authenticity: Herrmann, col. 216.)

109. #C#, as well as ‘Robin Hood and the Pedlars,’ III, 170, are found in a manuscript pretended to be of about 1650, but are written in a forged hand of this century. I do not feel certain that the ballads themselves, bad as they are, are forgeries, and accordingly give the variations of Gutch’s Robin Hood from the manuscript, not regarding spelling.

3^2. hold good.

3^4. thou will.

7^1. thus he.

10^1. Thorough: I run.

11^1. [kine?]

16^3. while.

19^1. Ile.

21^3. he lent.

24^3. be not.

25^3. eldest.

28^1. leant.

29^2. wield. No “Finis” at the end.

9. The Fair Flower of Northumberland.

P. 113. The Servian hero Marko Kraljević is guilty of the same ingratitude. The daughter of the Moorish king releases him from a long captivity and makes him rich gifts. He promises to marry her and they go off together. During a halt the princess embraces him, and he finds her black face and white teeth so repulsive that he strikes off her head. He seeks to atone for his sin by pious foundations. Servian, Vuk, II, No 44 [Bowring, p. 86]; Croat, Bogišić, p. 16; Bulgarian, Miladinof, No 54, Kačanofskij, No 132. (W. W.)

10. The Twa Sisters.

P. 119. A Danish fragment of nine stanzas in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, IV, 161, No 509.

119 b. Three copies of the Swedish ballad are printed by Wahlfisk, Bidrag till Södermanlands äldere Kulturhistoria, No VI, p. 33 f.

124 b, 493 b, II, 498 b.

Rudchenko, South Russian Popular Tales, I, No 55: murder of brother revealed by a flute made from a reed that grows from his grave (No 56, flute from a willow). II, No 14, murder of a boy killed and eaten by his parents revealed by a bird that rises from his bones. (W. W.)

In a Flemish tale reported in the Revue des Traditions populaires, II, 125, Janneken is killed by Milken for the sake of a golden basket. The murder is disclosed by a singing rose. In ‘Les Roseaux qui chantent’ a sister kills her brother in a dispute over a bush covered with pain-prunelle. Roses grow from his grave. A shepherd, hearing them sing, cuts a stem of the rose-bush and whistles in it. The usual words follow. Revue des Traditions populaires, II, 365 ff.; cf. Sébillot’s long note, p. 366 ff. Das Flötenrohr (two prose versions), U. Jahn, Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen, No 510, pp. 399–401. (G. L. K.)

11. The Cruel Brother.

Pp. 142 b, 496 a. ‘Rizzardo bello,’ #E#, ‘Ruggiero,’ in Mazzatinti, Canti p. umbri, p. 286, Bologna, 1883.

143 b. ‘Hr. Adelbrant og jomfru Lindelil,’ with a testament, again in Skattegraveren, I, 5, No I, and V, 17, No 12.

144 a, 496 b. Testaments. A wife who has been gone from home in pursuit of her pleasure is so beaten by her husband on her return that she dies. She leaves valuable legacies to her children and a rope to him. Nigra, No 25, ‘Testamento della Moglie,’ p. 159.

144 b. ‘Rævens Arvegods,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, II, 192 ff, Nos 774–78, and VIII, 209, No 810.

12. Lord Randal.

Pp. 152, 498. #Italian.# Add #G#, #H#, #I#, Nigra, No 26, #A#, #B#, #C#, ‘Testamento dell’ Avvelenato.’ #J.# ‘L’Amante avvelenato,’ Giannini, No 27, p. 199. #K.# ‘Mamma e Figghiolo,’ Nerucci, in Archivio, II, 526.

154 b, 498 b. ‘A megetétt János’ in Arany and Gyulai, III, 7, Kriza.

156 a. ‘Donna Lombarda’ is now No 1 of Nigra’s collection, where it is given in sixteen versions.

156 b, 499 a, II, 499 a. Slavic ballads of the sister that poisons her brother, etc. Add: Servian, Rajkowić, No 251. Compare, Bulgarian, Miladinof, No 262; Croat, Mažuranić, p. 152, Sammlung der Zeitschrift ‘Naša Sloga,’ II, No 158; Slovenian, Koritko, IV, No 47.—In Golovatsky, II, 584, a mother asks her son whether he supped with the widow. He supped with her, the witch. What did she cook for him? A small fish. Where did she catch it, dress it? Did she eat any of it? No, her head ached. Did the children? No, they went to bed.—In Verković, No 317, p. 350, the fair Stana is poisoned by her husband’s parents with a snake given as a fish. (W. W.)

A Ruthenian ballad of a mother attempting to poison her son’s wife, and poisoning the pair, Herrmann, in Ethnologische Mittheilungen, col. 205 f.

A Slovak ballad of this sort in Kollár, Narodnie Zpiewanky, II, 32, translated by Herrmann, 91 f., No 3; and another version of the same col. 204 f., No 7. Roumanian versions, cols 206, 207 f., 209 f., Nos 9, 10, 12, the last with another story prefixed. See also Herrmann, col. 90, No 1, 92 f., Nos 4, 5, 208 f., No 11, for poisoning-ballads, and his references at the top of col. 211.

13. Edward.

Pp. 167 b, 501 b. Another copy of ‘Sven i Rosengård,’ #F#, is printed by Aminson in Bidrag till Södermanlands äldere Kulturhistoria, No V, p. 12, eleven stanzas. The swain has killed his sister.

168 b. #Danish.# Four concluding stanzas (When?) in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 100, No 459.

14. Babylon, or, The Bonnie Banks o Fordie.

P. 170. Add:

F

“In Gipsy Tents,” by Francis Hindes Groome, p. 143.

1 There were three sisters going from home, All in a lea and alony, oh They met a man, and he made them stand, Down by the bonny banks of Airdrie, oh.

2 He took the first one by the hand, He turned her round, and he made her stand.

3 Saying, Will you be a robber’s wife? Or will you die by my penknife?

4 ‘Oh, I wont be a robber’s wife, But I will die by your penknife.’

5 Then he took the second by her hand, He turned her round, and he made her stand.

6 Saying, Will you be a robber’s wife? Or will you die by my penknife?

7 ‘Oh, I wont be a robber’s wife, But I will die by your penknife.’

8 He took the third one by the hand, He turned her round, and he made her stand.

9 Saying, Will you be a robber’s wife? Or will you die by my penknife?

10 ‘Oh, I wont be a robber’s wife, And I wont die by your penknife.

11 ‘If my two brothers had been here, You would not have killed my sisters two.’

12 ‘What was your two brothers’ names?’ ‘One was John, and the other was James.’

13 ‘Oh, what did your two brothers do?’ ‘One was a minister, the other such as you.’

14 ‘Oh, what is this that I have done? I have killed my sisters, all but one.

15 ‘And now I’ll take out my penknife, And here I’ll end my own sweet life.’

P. 173, II, 499. Add to the French ballad: ‘Le Passage du Bois,’ V. Smith, Chants p. du Velay et du Forez, Romania, X, 205; ‘La Doulento,’ Arbaud, I, 120; Poésies p. de la France, MS., IV, fol. 442, printed in Rolland, III, 55. With these belong ‘La Ragazza assassinata,’ Nigra, No 12, three versions, p. 85 ff.; ‘La Vergine uccisa,’ Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 17.

15. Leesome Brand.

P. 179 a. #Danish#, II. ‘Rosenelle og hr. Agervold,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 65, No 230, is an important variety of Redselille og Medelvold. Another version, III, 82, No 260, ‘Rosenelle og hr. Medervold.’ In both of these the knight is the lady’s brother.

#Swedish#, II. A copy of ‘Lilla Lisa och Herr Nedervall’ is printed by Aminson, Bidrag, o. s. v., No 5, p. 17.

16. Sheath and Knife.

P. 185. Mr Macmath has found the following ballad in Motherwell’s handwriting, on a half-sheet of paper. It is not completely intelligible (why should Lady Ann be left in the death-throe, to bury herself?), but undoubtedly belongs here. The first stanza agrees with #D#.

E

1 One king’s daughter said to anither, Brume blumes bonnie and grows sae fair ‘We’ll gae ride like sister and brither.’ And we’ll neer gae down to the brume nae mair

2 ‘We’ll ride doun into yonder valley, Whare the greene green trees are budding sae gaily.

3 ‘Wi hawke and hounde we will hunt sae rarely, And we’ll come back in the morning early.’

4 They rade on like sister and brither, And they hunted and hawket in the valley thegether.

5 ‘Now, lady, hauld my horse and my hawk, For I maun na ride, and I downa walk.

6 ‘But set me doun be the rute o this tree, For there hae I dreamt that my bed sall be.’

7 The ae king’s dochter did lift doun the ither, And she was licht in her armis like ony fether.

8 Bonnie Lady Ann sat doun be the tree, And a wide grave was houkit whare nane suld be.

9 The hawk had nae lure, and the horse had nae master, And the faithless hounds thro the woods ran faster.

10 The one king’s dochter has ridden awa, But bonnie Lady Ann lay in the deed-thraw.

Some words are difficult to read.

2. sae wanting in burden 1.

3^1. hunt? growis fair in burden 1.

5^1. Originally Oh hauld my bridle and stirrup. Ann, or come, is written over Oh.

9^2. faithless?

The lost knife here in #A# 8–10, #B# 5, and in ‘Leesome Brand,’ No 15, 36–41, appears in ‘The Squire of Low Degree,’ Percy Folio, III, 267, vv. 117–126 (not in the version printed by Ritson and by Hazlitt).

‘Daughter,’ he sais, ‘ffor whose sake Is _tha_t sorrow _tha_t still thou makes?’ ‘Ffather,’ shee sais, ’as I doe see, Itt is ffor no man in Christentye; Ffather,’ shee sayes, ’as I doe thriue, Itt is ffor noe man this day aliue. Ffor yesterday I lost my kniffe; Much rather had I haue lost my liffe!’ ‘My daughter,’ he sayes, ‘if itt be but a blade, I can gett another as good made.’ ‘Ffather,’ shee sais, ‘there is neuer a smith but one _Tha_t [can] smith you such a one.’

(G. L. K.)

17. Hind Horn.

P. 193 (2). ‘Hr. Lovmand’ in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, VIII, 49, No 115.

194 ff., 502 f., II, 499 b.

According to a Devonshire tradition given by Mrs Bray, Traditions of Devonshire, II, 172 (II, 32, of the new ed. of 1879, which has a fresh title, The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy), Sir Francis Drake, having been abroad seven years, was apprised by one of his devils that his wife was about to marry again. He immediately discharged one of his great guns up through the earth. The cannon-ball “fell with a loud explosion between the lady and her intended bridegroom,” who were before the altar. In another version, known to Southey and communicated by him to Mrs Bray (as above, II, 174; new ed., II, 33, 34), the marriage is broken off by a large stone (no doubt a gun-stone) which falls on the lady’s train as she is on her way to church. Drake, in this version, returns in disguise, but is recognized by his smile. See for various stories of the same kind, ‘Iouenn Kerménou,’ Luzel, Contes pop. de Basse-Bretagne, I, 416; ‘Der todte Schuldner,’ Zingerle, Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie, II, 367; ‘De witte Swâne,’ Woeste, the same, III, 46, translated from the Markish dialect by Simrock, ‘Der gute Gerhard,’ u. s. w., p. 75; Vernaleken, Mythen u. Bräuche des Volkes in Oesterreich, p. 372; Vernaleken, Kinder- u. Hausmärchen, No 54, p. 315 f.; J. H. Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir, p. 184 f.; Prym u. Socin, Syrische Sagen u. Märchen, No 20, II, 72. (G. L. K.)

Pp. 198 b, 502 b, II, 499 b. An Italian form of ‘Le Retour du Mari’ is ‘Il Ritorno del Soldato,’ Nigra, No 28^b, p. 174.

Another Italian ballad has some of the points in the story of Horn. A man goes off for seven years immediately after marriage; the woman looking out towards the sea perceives a pilgrim approaching; he asks for charity, and makes what seems an impudent suggestion, for which she threatens him with punishment. But how if I were your husband? Then you would give me some token. He pulls out his wedding-ring from under his cloak. ‘Il finto [falso] Pellegrino,’ Bernoni, ix, no 7, Ferraro, C. p. monferrini, p. 33, Giannini, p. 151 (nearly the same in Archivio, VI, 361); ‘La Moglie fedele,’ Wolf, p. 59, No 81, Ive, p. 334; ‘Bennardo,’ Nerucci, in Archivio, III, 44.

To the Portuguese ballads, I, 502 b, add ‘A bella Infanta,’ Bellermann, p. 100.

Add to the Polish ballads, p. 502 b: Roger, p. 13, Nos 25, 26.

With the Slavic ballads belong: Servian, Vuk, III, No 25; Bulgarian, Miladinof, Nos 65, 66, 111, 573, Kačanovskiy, Nos 68–73, 112. (W. W.)

202 a. The three singing laverocks in #B# 3, #F# 4, (cf. #A# 3,) are to be taken as curiosities of art. Artificial singing-birds are often mentioned in the earlier times, (by Sir John Mandeville for instance): see Liebrecht, Volkskunde, p. 89 f., No 5. Such birds, and artificially hissing snakes, occur in the Great-Russian bylina of Djuk Stepanović; cf. Wollner, Untersuchungen ü. d. grossr. Volksepik, p. 134 f. (W. W.)

205. #G# would have been printed as it stands in Kinloch MSS VII, 117, had the volume been in my possession. The copy principally used in Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 138, was derived from the editor’s niece, M. Kinnear. Readings of another copy are written in pencil over the transcript of the first in places, and as the name “Christy Smith” is also written at the beginning in pencil, it may be supposed that these readings were furnished by this Christy Smith. Kinloch adopted some of these readings into the copy which appears in his book, and he introduced others which seem to be his own. The readings of the Kinnear copy not retained by Kinloch will now be given under #a#, and those supplied (as may be supposed) by Christy Smith under #b#.

#a.#

1^2. Whare was ye born? or frae what cuntrie?

3^1. a gay gowd wand.

4^1. a silver ring.

5^1. Whan that ring.

6^1. Whan that ring.

7^2. Till he cam.

8^1. Whan he lookit to.

8^2. Says, I wish.

9^2. Until he cam till.

10^1. met with.

10^2. It was with.

11^1. my puir auld man.

13^1. to me.

13^2. I’ll lend you.

15^1. He has changed wi the puir auld.

16^1. What is the way that ye use.

16^2. words that.

18^1, 22^1. to yon town end.

19^2. your Hynde (your struck out).

23^2. his Hynde (his struck out).

24^1. he took na frae ane.

27^1. But he drank his glass.

27^2. Into it he dropt.

30^2. to your.

34^2. him evermair.

36^1. The red: oure them aw.

#b.#

1^2. in what.

2^1. greenwud’s.

2^2. have left.

3^1. a silver wand.

4^1. And my love gave me a gay gowd ring.

5^1. As lang as that ring.

7^2. Till that he cam.

9^2. Until that.

10^2. a jolly beggar man.

15^1. struck out in pencil.

18^1. And whan: yonder down.

20^2. Unless it be frae.

22^1. yonder down.

24^1. But he wad tak frae nane.

34^2. for evermair.

19. King Orfeo.

P. 217. The first half of the Norse burden is more likely to have been, originally, what would correspond to the Danish Skoven [er] herlig grön, or, Skoven herlig grönnes. In the other half, grün forbids us to look for hjort in giorten, where we are rather to see Danish urt (English wort), Icelandic jurt: so that this would be, in Danish, Hvor urten hun grönnes herlig. (Note of Mr. Axel Olrik.)

20. The Cruel Mother.

P. 218 b. #Danish.# ‘I dølgsmål,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, V, 98, No 644; corrupted.

(#N#, #O# should be #O#, #P#, II, 500: see I, 504.)

Q

‘The Cruel Mother,’ Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 1883–86, p. 540; “sung by Eliza Wharton and brothers, children of gipsies, habitually travelling in North Shropshire and Staffordshire, 13th July, 1885.”

1 There was a lady, a lady of York, Ri fol i diddle i gee wo She fell a-courting in her own father’s park. Down by the greenwood side, O

2 She leaned her back against the stile, There she had two pretty babes born.

3 And she had nothing to lap ’em in, But she had a penknife sharp and keen.

4 . . . . . . . . There she stabbed them right through the heart.

5 She wiped the penknife in the sludge; The more she wiped it, the more the blood showed.

6 As she was walking in her own father’s park, She saw two pretty babes playing with a ball.

7 ‘Pretty babes, pretty babes, if you were mine, I’d dress you up in silks so fine.’

8 ‘Dear mother, dear mother, [when we were thine,] You dressed us not in silks so fine.

9 ‘Here we go to the heavens so high, You’ll go to bad when you do die.’

219 b, 504 a, II, 500 a. (#M# at this last place should be #O#.) Add: #P#, ‘Die Schäferstochter,’ as sung in the neighborhood of Köslin, Ulrich Jahn, Volkssagen aus Pommern u. Rügen, No 393, p. 310 f. (G. L. K.)

A Magyar-Croat ballad of the same tenor as the German, Kurelac, p. 150, No 451. (W. W.)

21. The Maid and the Palmer.

P. 228 a. #Danish.# Another copy of ‘Synderinden ’ in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, VII, 81, No 505.

230 b. #Slavic.# Sušil, No 3, p. 2, closely resembles Moravian #A#; the woman is turned to stone. In a variant, p. 3, she has had fifty paramours, and again in a Little-Russian ballad, Golovatsky, I, 235, No 68, seventy. In this last, after shrift, the sinner is dissipated in dust. (W. W.)

231. #French.# Add: Victor Smith, Chants du Velay et du Forez, Romania IV, 439 (the conversion, p. 438); Chabaneau, Revue des Langues Romanes, XXIX, 265, 267, 268.

#Catalan.# ‘Santa Magdalena,’ conversion and penance, Miscelánea Folk-Lórica, 1887, p. 119, No 8. The Samaritan Woman, simply, p. 118, No 7.

22. St Stephen and Herod.

P. 234 a. ‘Rudisar vísa’ is now No 11 of Hammershaimb’s Færøsk Anthologi, p. 39. There are two other copies.

237. ‘Skuin over de groenelands heide,’ Dykstra en van der Meulen, p. 121, resembles the Breton stories, but lacks the miracle of the capon.

239. Miracle of the roasted cock. Jesus visits a Jew on Easter Sunday and reproaches him with not believing in the resurrection. The Jew replies that Jesus having been put to death it was as impossible for him to come to life again as it would be for a roast chicken which lies before them. Faith can do anything, says Jesus. The fowl comes to life and lays eggs; the Jew has himself baptized. Kostomarof, Monuments of the older Russian Literature, I, 217. In a note, a Red-Russian ballad is mentioned which seems to be identical with Golovatsky, II, 6, No 8. A young Jewess, who was carrying water, was the first to see Jesus after his resurrection. She tells her father, as he sits at meat, that the God of the Russians is risen from the dead. “If you were not my daughter, I would have you drowned,” says the father. “The God of the Russians will not rise again till that capon flies up and crows.” The capon does both; the Jew is turned to stone. (W. W.)

25. Willie’s Lyke-Wake.

Pp. 247–49 a. #Danish.# Add: ‘Vågestuen,’ in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 17, No 17; IV, 17, 115, Nos 26, 285.

249 b and 506 a. #Swedish.# Bröms Gyllenmärs’ visbok has been printed in Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., 1887, and the ballad of Herr Carl is No 77, p. 252. There is an imperfect copy in Bergström ock Nordlander, Nyare Bidrag, p. 102, No 9.

250. ‘Il Genovese’ is given in eight versions, one a fragment, by Nigra, No 41, p. 257.

250, 506 a, II, 502 a. #Bulgarian.# Stojan, who wants to carry off Bojana, does, at his mother’s advice, everything to bring her within his reach. He builds a church, digs a well, plants a garden. All the maids come but her. He then feigns death; she comes with flowers and mourns over him; he seizes her; the priest blesses their union. Miladinof, p. 294, No 185. An old woman, in a like case, advises a young man to feign death, and brings Bojana to see the body. “Why,” asks Bojana, “do his eyes look as if they had sight, his arms as if they would lay hold of me, his feet as if ready to jump up?” “That is because he died so suddenly,” says the beldam. The youth springs up and embraces Bojana. Verković, p. 334, No 304. A Magyar-Croat version begins like this last, but has suffered corruption: Kurelac, p. 148, No. 447. (W. W.)

28. Burd Ellen and Young Tamlane.

P. 256. The first paragraph was occasioned by a misprint in Motherwell (corrected at p. cv of his Introduction), and may be dropped. In Pitcairn’s MS. it is noted that this fragment was obtained from Mrs Gammell.

29. The Boy and the Mantle.

Pp. 268 ff., 507, II, 502.

On going to war a king gives each of his two daughters a rose. “Si vous tombez en faute, quoi que ce soit,” says he, “vos roses flétriront.” Both princesses yield to the solicitations of their lovers, so that the king, on returning, finds both roses withered, and is grieved thereat. Vinson, Folk-Lore du Pays Basque, p. 102.

Wer ein ausgelöschtes Licht wieder anblasen kann ist noch Jungfrau oder Junggeselle. Wer ein ganz volles Glas zum Munde führen kann, ohne einen Tropfen su verschütten, ist Junggeselle. Zingerle, Sitten der Tiroler, p. 35.

There is a shield in Perceval le Gallois which no knight can wear with safety in a tournament if he is not all that a knight should be, and if he has not, also, “bele amie qui soit loiaus sans trecerie.” Several of Arthur’s knights try the shield with disastrous results; Perceval is more fortunate. (See 31805–31, 31865, 32023–48, 32410 ff., Potvin, IV, 45 ff..)

“Vpon the various earth’s embrodered gowne There is a weed vpon whose head growes downe; Sow-thistle ’tis ycleepd; whose downy wreath If any one can blow off at a breath, We deeme her for a maid.”

(William Browne, Britannia’s Pastorals, Book I, Song 4, Works, ed. Hazlitt, p. 103.)

Eodem auxilii genere, Tucciae virginis Vestalis, incesti criminis reae, castitas infamiae nube obscurata emersit. Quae conscientia certae sinceritatis suae spem salutis ancipiti argumento ausa petere est. Arrepto enim cribro, ‘Vesta,’ inquit, ‘si sacris tuis castas semper admovi manus, effice ut hoc hauriam e Tiberi aquam et in aedem tuam perferam.’ Audaciter et temere iactis votis sacerdotis rerum ipsa natura cessit. Valerius Maximus, viii, 1, 5. Cf. also Pliny, Hist. Nat., xxviii, 2 (3), and the commentators.

There was a (qualified) test of priestesses of Ge at Æegæ by drinking bull’s blood, according to Pausanias, VIII, xxv, 8; cited by H. C. Lea, Superstition and Force, 3d ed., 1878, p. 236 f. (All the above by G. L. K.)

A spring in Apollonius Heinrichs von Neustadt blackens the hand of the more serious offender, but in a milder case only the ring-finger, “der die geringste Befleckung nicht erträgt.” W. Grimm’s Kleinere Schriften, III, 446. (C. R. Lanman.)

30. King Arthur and King Cornwall.

P. 274. That this ballad is a traditional variation of Charlemagne’s Journey to Jerusalem and Constantinople, was, I am convinced, too hastily said. See M. Gaston Paris’s remarks at p. 110 f. of his paper, Les romans en vers du cycle de la Table Ronde (Extrait du tome xxx de l’Histoire Littéraire de la France). The king who thinks himself the best king in the world, etc., occurs (it is Arthur) also in the romance of Rigomer: the same, p. 92.

34. Kemp Owyne.

P. 307 b. Add ‘Linden,’ Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, V, 50, No 455.

A princess in the form of a toad is kissed three times and so disenchanted: Revue des Traditions populaires, III, 475–6. A princess in the form of a black wolf must be kissed thrice to be disenchanted: Vernaleken, Alpensagen, p. 123. A princess persuades a man to attempt her release from enchantment. Three successive kisses are necessary. On the first occasion she appears as a serpent; he can kiss her but once. The second attempt is also unsuccessful; she appears as a salamander and is kissed twice. The third time she takes the form of a toad, and the three kisses are happily given. Luzel, in the Annuaire de la Soc. des Traditions populaires, II, 53. (G. L. K.)

35. Allison Gross.

P. 314 a. Hill-maid’s promises. Add: ‘Bjærgjomfruens frieri,’ Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 100, No 460.

37. Thomas Rymer.

P. 319 b, last paragraph. In a Breton story, ‘La Fleur du Rocher,’ Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, II, 31, Jean Cate addresses the fairy, when he first sees her, as the Virgin Mary. (G. L. K.)

39. Tam Lin.

P. 335. Mr Macmath has found an earlier transcript of #B# in Glenriddel’s MSS, VIII, 106, 1789. The variations (except those of spelling, which are numerous) are as follows:

1^2. that wears.

1^3. go.

3^3. has snoded.

3^5. is gaen.

5^1. had not.

6^3. comes.

7^2. give.

8^{2,4}, 16^{2,4}, 35^{2,4}. above.

11^1. Out then: gray-head.

11^3. And ever alas, fair Janet, he says.

13^3. fair Janet.

13^4. thow gaes.

14^1. If I.

14^3. Ther’e not.

14^4, 34^4. bairns.

15^4. ye nae, wrongly.

16^5. she is on.

19^2. groves green.

20^1. Thomas.

20^2. for his.

20^3. Whether ever.

22^3. from the.

22^4. Then from.

23^3. The Queen o Fairies has.

23^4. do dwell.

23^6. Fiend, wrongly.

24^1. is a Hallow-een.

24^3. And them.

25^3. Amongst.

27^1. ride on.

27^6. gave.

30^4. wardly.

31^3. Hald me.

34^2. then in.

37^4. And there.

38^3. Them that hes.

38^4. Has.

40^{3,4}. eyes.

41^1. I kend.

41^3. I’d.

J.

‘The Queen of the Fairies,’ Macmath MS., p. 57. “Taken down by me 14th October, 1886, from the recitation of Mr Alexander Kirk, Inspector of Poor, Dalry, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, who learned it about fifty years ago from the singing of David Ray, Barlay, Balmaclellan.”

This copy has been considerably made over, and was very likely learned from print. The cane in the maid’s hand, already sufficiently occupied, either with the Bible or with holy water, is an imbecility such as only the “makers” of latter days are capable of. (There is a cane in another ballad which I cannot at this moment recall.)

1 The maid that sits in Katherine’s Hall, Clad in her robes so black, She has to yon garden gone, For flowers to flower her hat.

2 She had not pulled the red, red rose, A double rose but three, When up there starts a gentleman, Just at this lady’s knee.

3 Says, Who’s this pulls the red, red rose? Breaks branches off the tree? Or who’s this treads my garden-grass, Without the leave of me?

4 ‘Yes, I will pull the red, red rose, Break branches off the tree, This garden in Moorcartney wood, Without the leave o thee.’

5 He took her by the milk-white hand And gently laid her down, Just in below some shady trees Where the green leaves hung down.

6 ‘Come tell to me, kind sir,’ she said, ‘What before you never told; Are you an earthly man?’ said she, ‘A knight or a baron bold?’

7 ‘I’ll tell to you, fair lady,’ he said, ‘What before I neer did tell; I’m Earl Douglas’s second son, With the queen of the fairies I dwell.

8 ‘When riding through yon forest-wood, And by yon grass-green well, A sudden sleep me overtook, And off my steed I fell.

9 ‘The queen of the fairies, being there, Made me with her to dwell, And still once in the seven years We pay a teind to hell.

10 ‘And because I am an earthly man, Myself doth greatly fear, For the cleverest man in all our train To Pluto must go this year.

11 ‘This night is Halloween, lady, And the fairies they will ride; The maid that will her true-love win At Miles Cross she may bide.’

12 ‘But how shall I thee ken, though, sir? Or how shall I thee know, Amang a pack o hellish wraiths, Before I never saw?’

13 ‘Some rides upon a black horse, lady, And some upon a brown, But I myself on a milk-white steed, And I aye nearest the toun.

14 ‘My right hand shall be covered, lady, My left hand shall be bare, And that’s a token good enough That you will find me there.

15 ‘Take the Bible in your right hand, With God for to be your guide, Take holy water in thy left hand, And throw it on every side.’

16 She’s taen her mantle her about, A cane into her hand, And she has unto Miles Cross gone, As hard as she can gang.

17 First she has letten the black pass by, And then she has letten the brown, But she’s taen a fast hold o the milk-white steed, And she’s pulled Earl Thomas doun.

18 The queen of the fairies being there, Sae loud she’s letten a cry, ‘The maid that sits in Katherine’s Hall This night has gotten her prey.

19 ‘But hadst thou waited, fair lady, Till about this time the morn, He would hae been as far from thee or me As the wind that blew when he was born.’

20 They turned him in this lady’s arms Like the adder and the snake; She held him fast; why should she not? Though her poor heart was like to break.

21 They turned him in this lady’s arms Like two red gads of airn; She held him fast; why should she not? She knew they could do her no harm.

22 They turned him in this lady’s arms Like to all things that was vile; She held him fast; why should she not? The father of her child.

23 They turned him in this lady’s arms Like to a naked knight; She’s taen him hame to her ain bower, And clothed him in armour bright.

338 a, 507, II, 505 b.

A king transformed into a nightingale being plunged three times into water resumes his shape: Vernaleken, K.-u. H. Märchen, No 15, p. 79. In Guillaume de Palerne, ed. Michelant, v. 7770 ff., pp. 225, 226, the queen who changes the werewolf back into a man takes care that he shall have a warm bath as soon as the transformation is over; but this may be merely the bath preliminary to his being dubbed knight (as in Li Chevaliers as Deus Espees, ed. Förster, vv. 1547–49, p. 50, and L’Ordene de Chevalerie, vv. 111–124, Barbazan-Méon, I, 63, 64). A fairy maiden is turned into a wooden statue. This is burned and the ashes thrown into a pond, whence she immediately emerges in her proper shape. She is next doomed to take the form of a snake. Her lover, acting under advice, cuts up a good part of the snake into little bits, and throws these into a pond. She emerges again. J. H. Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir, p. 468 ff.. (G. L. K.)

339 b, II, 505 b.

Fairy salve and indiscreet users of it. See also Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, II, 41, 42, cf. I, 122–3; the same, Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne, I, 89, 109; the same, Litt. orale de la Haute-B., pp. 19–23, 24–27, and note; Mrs Bray, Traditions of Devonshire, 1838, I, 184–188, I, 175 ff. of the new ed. called The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy; “Lageniensis” [J. O’Hanlon], Irish Folk-Lore, Glasgow, n. d., pp. 48–49. In a Breton story a fairy gives a one-eyed woman an eye of crystal, warning her not to speak of what she may see with it. Disregarding this injunction, the woman is deprived of the gift. Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, II, 24–25. (G. L. K.)

340. The danger of lying under trees at noon. “Is not this connected with the belief in a δαιμονιόν μεσημβρινόν (LXX, Psalm xci, 6)? as to which see Rochholz, Deutscher Unsterblichkeitsglaube, pp. 62 ff., 67 ff., and cf. Lobeck, Aglaophamus, pp. 1092–3.” Kittredge, Sir Orfeo, in the American Journal of Philology, VII, 190, where also there is something about the dangerous character of orchards. Of processions of fairy knights, see p. 189 of the same.

Tam o Lin. Add: Tom a Lin, Robert Mylne’s MS. Collection of Scots Poems, Part I, 8, 1707. (W. Macmath.)

40. The Queen of Elfan’s Nourice.

P. 358 f., II, 505 b.

Mortal women as midwives to fairies, elves, water-sprites, etc. Further examples are: Sébillot, Littérature orale de la Haute-Bretagne, pp. 19–23; the same, Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne, I, 89, 109; Vinson, Folk-Lore du Pays Basque, pp. 40, 41; Meier, Deutsche Sagen, u. s. w., aus Schwaben, pp. 16–18, 59, 62; Mrs Bray, Traditions of Devonshire, 1838, I, 184–188 (in the new ed., which is called The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy, I, 174 ff.); “Lageniensis” [J. O’Hanlon], Irish Folk Lore, Glasgow, n. d., pp. 48, 49; U. Jahn, Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen, pp. 50, 72; Vonbun, Die Sagen Vorarlbergs, p. 16, cf. p. 6; Vernaleken, Alpensagen, p. 183.—Mortal woman as nurse for fairy child. Sébillot, Contes populaires de la Haute-Bretagne, I, 121. (G. L. K.)

41. Hind Etin.

P. 361 f. #Danish.# Add: ‘Jomfruen og dværgen,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, III, 98, No 393. A fragment of four stanzas, IV, 193, No 570.

364. #Danish.# Add: ‘Angenede og havmanden,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, III, 17, No 34.

42. Clerk Colvill.

P. 379 a, II, 506. Breton #F# is now printed entire (twenty-one stanzas instead of eleven) by Gaidoz, in Mélusine, IV, 301 ff. (The language appears to be Cornish.)

380, II, 506. #A# is printed by Rolland, III, 39; #P#, #Q#, ib., p. 41, p. 37; #T#, ib., p. 32, and in Revue des Traditions pop., #I#, 33; #X#, by Rolland, III, 45; #GG#, in Revue des T. p., III, 195. The five stanzas in Poés. pop. de la F., MS., VI, 491 (#MM#), by Rolland, III, 36.

Add: #NN#, 38 verses, without indication of place, by C. de Sivry in Rev. des T. p., II, 24; #OO#, ‘Le roi Léouis,’ Haute-Bretagne, 60 verses, P. Sébillot, in the same, III, 196.

A Basque version, with a translation, in Rev. des Trad. pop., III, 198.

382 a. #Italian.# #C-F#, #H-K# now in Nigra’s collection, ‘Morte Occulta,’ #A-G#, No 21, p. 142, in a different order. #C#, #D#, #E#, #F#, #H#, #I#, #K# are in Nigra now #A#, #C#, #D#, #E#, #G#, #F#, #B#. The fragment spoken of p. 383 b is now Nigra’s No 22, p. 149, ‘Mal ferito.’ The tale which follows this is given p. 148 f.

384 a. There are two good Asturian versions in Pidal, ‘Doña Alda,’ Nos 46, 47, pp. 181, 183. The editor mentions a copy in the second number of Folk-Lore Betico-Extremeño, much injured by tradition, which is more like the Catalan than the Asturian versions.

43. The Broomfield Hill.

P. 392 b. Sleep-thorns.

Sleep-thorns, or something similar, occur in the West Highland tales. In a story partly reported by Campbell, I, xci, “the sister put gath nimh, a poisonous sting or thorn, into the bed, and the prince was as though he were dead for three days, and he was buried. But Knowledge told the other two dogs what to do, and they scraped up the prince and took out the thorn, and he came alive again and went home.” So in “The Widow’s Son,” Campbell, II, 296: “On the morrow he went, but the carlin stuck a bior nimh, spike of hurt, in the outside of the door post, and when he came to the church he fell asleep.” In another version of The Widow’s Son, II, 297, a “big pin” serves as the “spike of hurt.” Cf. the needle in Haltrich, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen, 3d ed., p. 141, No 32. (G. L. K.)

393. Italian ballad. Add: Righi, p. 33, No 96; Nigra, No 77, p. 393, ‘La Bevanda sonnifera,’ #A-H#; Giannini, ‘Il Cavaliere ingannato,’ p. 157; Ferrari, Biblioteca di Lett. pop. italiana, I, 218, ‘La bella Brunetta;’ Finamore, in Archivio, I, 89, La Fandell’ e lu Cavaljiere (mixed); Nerucci, in Archivio, II, 524, ‘La Ragazza Fantina;’ Julia, in Archivio, VI, 244, ‘La ‘nfantina e lu Cavalieri;’ Rondini, in Archivio, VII, 189.

Ricordi, Canti p. Lombardi, No 9, ‘La Moraschina,’ gives the first half of the story, with a slight alteration for propriety’s sake.

44. The Twa Magicians.

P. 400 a, II, 506 b. #E#, #F#, partly, in Revue des Traditions populaires, I, 104 f. (#Q# was previously cited as #J#.) #Q.# ‘Les Transformations,’ Avenay, Marne, Gaston Paris, in Rev. des Trad. pop., I, 98; #R#, Haute-Bretagne, Sébillot, the same, p. 100; #S#, Le Morvan, Tiersot, p. 102; #T#, Tarn-et-Garonne, the same, II, 208. #U.# ‘Les Métamorphoses,’ Finistère, Rolland, IV, 32, c; #V#, environs de Brest, the same, p. 33, d. #E# is printed by Rolland, IV, 30, b.

#Italian.# A ballad in Nigra, No 59, p. 329, ‘Amore inevitabile.’

401 a. Vuk, I, No 602, is translated in Bowring’s Servian Popular Poetry, p. 195.

In a Magyar-Croat ballad the lover advises the maid, who has been chidden by her mother on his account, if her mother repeats the scolding, to turn herself into a fish, then he will be a fisherman, etc. Kurelac, p. 309, XV, 2. (W. W.)

401 b, last two paragraphs.

Other specimens of the first kind (not in Köhler’s note to Gonzenbach, II, 214) are:

Luzel, Annuaire de la Société des Traditions populaires, II, 56; Baissac, Folk-Lore de l’Île Maurice, p. 88 ff.; Wigström, Sagor ock Äfventyr uppt. i Skåne, p. 37; Luzel, Revue des Traditions populaires, I, 287, 288; Luzel, Contes pop. de Basse-Bretagne, II, 13, 41 ff., cf. 64–66; Vernaleken, Kinder- u. Hausmärchen, No 49, p. 277; Bladé, Contes pop. de la Gascogne, II, 26–36; Carnoy, Contes populaires picards, Romania, VIII, 227. Cf. also Ortoli, Contes pop. de l’Île de Corse, pp. 27–29, and Cosquin’s notes (which do not cite any of the above-mentioned places), Contes pop. de Lorraine, I, 105 ff.

Other specimens of the second kind:

Luzel, Contes pop. de Basse-Bretagne, II, 92–95, and note; Haltrich, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande, u. s. w., 3d ed., 1882, No 14, p. 52 f.. (G. L. K.)

402 a, last paragraph. “The pursuit in various forms by the witch lady has an exact counterpart in a story of which I have many versions and which I had intended to give if I had room. It is called ‘The Fuller’s Son,’ ‘The Cotter’s Son,’ and other names, and it bears a strong resemblance to the end of the Norse tale of ‘Farmer Weathersky.’” Campbell, Pop. Tales of the West Highlands, IV, 297. (G. L. K.)

46. Captain Wedderburn’s Courtship.

P. 415, note [391]. A version from Scotland has been printed in the Folk-Lore Journal, III, 272, ‘I had six lovers over the sea.’ (G. L. K.)

417, note [396], II, 507 b.

The one stake with no head on it occurs also in Wolfdietrich B. The heathen, whom Wolfdietrich afterwards overcomes at knife-throwing, threatens him thus:

“Sihstu dort an den zinnen fünf hundert houbet stân, Diu ich mit mînen henden alle verderbet hân? Noch stât ein zinne lære an mînem türnlîn: Dâ muoz dîn werdez houbet ze einem phande sîn.”

(St. 595, Jänicke, Deutsches Heldenbuch, III, 256.)

Two cases in Campbell’s Pop. T. of the West Highlands. “Many a leech has come, said the porter. There is not a spike on the town without a leech’s head but one, and may be it is for thy head that one is.” (The Ceabharnach, I, 312.) Conall “saw the very finest castle that ever was seen from the beginning of the universe till the end of eternity, and a great wall at the back of the fortress, and iron spikes within a foot of each other, about and around it; and a man’s head upon every spike but the one spike. Fear struck him and he fell a-shaking. He thought that it was his own head that would go on the headless spike.” (The Story of Conall Gulban, III, 202.) In Crestien’s Erec et Enide, Erec overcomes a knight in an orchard. There are many stakes crowned with heads, but one stake is empty. Erec is informed that this is for his head, and that it is customary thus to keep a stake waiting for a new-comer, a fresh one being set up as often as a head is taken. Ed. by Bekker in Haupt’s Ztschr., X, 520, 521, vv. 5732–66. (G. L. K.)

49. The Twa Brothers.

P. 435. There is a copy in Nimmo, Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, p. 131, made from #D#, #E#, with half a dozen lines for connection.

437 b. It is #E# (not #A#) that is translated by Grundtvig; and #D# by Afzelius, Grimm, Talvj, Rosa Warrens.

436 f. In one of the older Croat ballads Marko Kraljević and his brother Andrija, who have made booty of three horses, quarrel about the third when they come to dividing, and Marko fells Andrija with a stab. Andrija charges Marko not to tell their mother what took place, but to say that he is not coming home, because he has become enamored of a girl in a foreign country. Bogišić p. 18, No 6. There is a Magyar-Croat variant of this, in which two brothers returning from war fall out about a girl, and the older (who, by the way, is a married man) stabs the younger. The dying brother wishes the mother to be told that he has staid behind to buy presents for her and his sisters. The mother asks when her son will come home. The elder brother answers, When a crow turns white and a withered maple greens. The (simple) mother gets a crow and bathes it daily in milk, and irrigates the tree with wine; but in vain. Other Slavic examples of these hopeless eventualities: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, I, 74, No 30, 97, No 7, 164, No 12, 173, No 23, 229, No 59; II, 41, No 61, 585, No 18, 592, No 27; III, 12, No 9, 136, No 256, 212, No 78; Bohemian, Erben, p. 182, No 340; Polish, Roger, p. 3, No 2; Servian, Vuk, I, No 364, Herzegovine, p. 209, No 176, p. 322, No 332; Bulgarian, Verković, No 226; Dozon, p. 95; Magyar-Croat, Kurelac, p. 11, No 61, p. 130, No 430, p. 156, No 457 (and note), p. 157, No 459, p. 244, No 557. (W. W.)

53. Young Beichan.

P. 454. The modern street or broadside ballad #L# (see II, 508) is given from singing by Miss Burne, Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 547.

459 b. The Färöe ballad (of which there are four copies) is printed in Hammershaimb’s Færøsk Anthologi, p. 260, No 33, ‘Harra Pætur og Elinborg.’

462 a. ‘Gerineldo,’ also in Pidal, Asturian Romances, p. 90 f.

462 a, b. ‘Moran d’ Inghilterra,’ with a second version, in Nigra, No 42, p. 263.

VOL. II.

55. The Carnal and the Crane.

P. 7 f., 510 a. Legend of the Sower. Catalan (with the partridge), Miscelánea Folk-Lórica, 1887, p. 115, No 6.

Moravian, Sušil, p. 19, No 16; Little-Russian, Golovatsky, II, 9, No 13. (W. W.)

56. Dives and Lazarus.

P. 10 b. ‘Il ricco Epulone,’ Nigra, No 159, p. 543, with Jesus and the Madonna for Lazarus.

Little-Russian, Golovatsky, II, 737, No 5; III, 263, No 1, and 267, No 2. Lazarus and the rich man are represented as brothers. (W. W.)

57. Brown Robyn’s Confession.

P. 13 b, 5th line. #A# is not a manuscript of the ‘fifteenth’ century, but of the date 1590 or 1591. (Note of Mr Axel Olrik.)

59. Sir Aldingar.

Pp. 37–43. The first adventure of the fragmentary romance of Joufrois affords this story. Count Richard of Poitiers has a son Joufrois. The boy begs his father to send him to the English court, that King Henry may knight him. The English king receives him well, but he remains a vaslet for some time. The seneschal of the court endeavors to win the queen’s amisté, but fails. He tells the king that he has seen the queen in bed with a kitchen-boy, and Henry swears that she shall hang or burn. The vaslet Joufrois offers to prove the seneschal a liar, and begs to be knighted for that purpose. Everybody thinks him mad to undertake battle with the seneschal, who is an unmatched man-at-arms: li biaus vaslet estoit enfens. The fight takes place at Winchester. Joufrois’ sword is broken, but he picks up a piece of a huge lance and disables his adversary with a blow on the arm. Joufrois then threatens to cut off the felon’s head if he does not retract, and as the seneschal prefers death to eating his words, this is done. Joufrois, Altfranzösisches Rittergedicht, ed. Hofmann und Muncker, vv. 91–631, pp. 3–18. (G. L. K.)

60. King Estmere.

Pp. 51, 510 b. Mr Kittredge has noted for me some twenty other cases in metrical romances of knights riding into hall.

Aiol’s steed is stabled in the hall, Aiol et Mirabel, ed. Förster, vv. 1758–61, p. 51. So Gawain’s horse in the ‘Chevalier à l’Espée,’ vv. 224–236, Méon, Nouveau Recueil, I, 134. Cf. ‘Perceval le Gallois,’ ed. Potvin, II, 255 ff., vv. 16803–42. In ‘Richars li Biaus,’ the hero evidently has his horse with him while at dinner in the hall of the robber-castle: ed. Förster, v. 3396, p. 93; cf. the editor’s note, p. 182. In ‘Perceval le Gallois,’ a knight takes his horse with him into a bedchamber and ties him to a bed-post: ed. Potvin, III, 34, v. 21169 f.. Cf. Elie de Saint Gille, ed. Förster, pp. 377, 379, 380, vv. 2050–55, 2105, 2129–42. (G. L. K.)

61. Sir Cawline.

P. 56 b. Amadas, while watching at the tomb of Ydoine, has a terrific combat with a highly mysterious stranger knight, whom he vanquishes. The stranger then informs Amadas that Ydoine is not really dead, etc., etc. He gives sufficient evidence of his elritch character, and the author clinches the matter by speaking of him as “the maufé” (v. 6709). Amadas et Ydoine, ed. Hippeau, vv. 5465 ff., p. 189 ff.. (G. L. K.)

60. Stanzas 42 ff.. It might have been remarked that this feat of tearing out a lion’s heart belongs to King Richard (see Weber’s Romances, II, 44), hence, according to the romance, named Cœur de Lion, and that it has also been assigned to an humbler hero, in a well-known broadside ballad, ‘The Honour of a London Prentice,’ Old Ballads, 1723, I, 199 (where there are two lions for one).

63. Child Waters.

P. 83. #Italian.# ‘Ambrogio e Lietta,’ Nigra, No 35, p. 201. The Piedmontese ballad, though incomplete, has the rough behavior of the man to the woman, the crossing of the water, the castle and the mother, the stable, and twins brought forth in a manger.

84 b. #Danish.# ‘Hr. Peders stalddreng,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 121, No 441; ‘Liden Kirsten som stalddreng,’ V, 98, No 645.

‘Hr. Grönnevold,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VII, 49, No 177, is an imperfect copy of the second sort of Scandinavian ballads.

64. Fair Janet.

P. 103, note. ‘La Fidanzata Infedele’ is now No 34 of Nigra’s collection. See above the addition to No 5, I, 65 b.

65. Lady Maisry.

P. 113 a, last paragraph. Burning, etc. See Amis e Amiloun (the French text), v. 364, p. 134, ed. Kölbing; Elie de St Gille, ed. Förster, vv. 2163–69, p. 381. Amadis de Gaule, Nicolas de Herberay, Anvers, 1573, I, 8 f., book 1, chap. 2, maid or wife; but Venice, 1552, I, 6 b, and Gayangos, Libros de Caballerias, p. 4, wife. (G. L. K.)

113 b. Only certain copies, and those perverted, of Grundtvig Nos 108, 109 have the punishment of burning for simple incontinence. This is rather the penalty for incest: cf. Syv, No 16,==Kristensen, I, No 70, II, No 49,==Grundtvig, No 292, and many other ballads. (Note of Mr Axel Olrik.)

Note §. ‘Galanzuca,’ ‘Galancina,’ Pidal, Asturian Romance, Nos 6, 7, pp. 92, 94, belong here. They have much of the story of ‘Lady Maisry,’ with a happy ending.

66. Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet.

P. 127 a, 9th line of the second paragraph. A copy of ‘Fru Margaretha’ in Harald Oluffsons Visbok. Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., p. 36, No 16, stanzas 21, 22.

127 b, 511 b. In a Breton ballad, Mélusine, III, 350 f., a priest jumps a table, at the cry of his sister, who is in a desperate extremity.

But the greatest achievements in this way are in Slavic ballads. A bride, on learning of her bridegroom’s death, jumps over four tables and lights on the fifth, rushes to her chamber and stabs herself: Moravian, Sušil, p. 83. According to a variant, p. 84, note, she jumps over nine. A repentant husband who had projected the death of his wife, on hearing that she is still living, leaps nine tables without touching the glasses on them: Magyar-Croat, Kurelac, p. 184, No 479. (W. W.)

Mr Kittredge has given me many cases from romances.

127 b, note. Sword reduced to a straw: add Nigra, No 113, etc. ‘Gerineldo:’ add Pidal, Asturian Romances, Nos 3, 4, 5.

67. Glasgerion.

P. 137 b. ‘Poter del Canto’ is now No 47, p. 284, of Nigra’s collection.

68. Young Hunting.

P. 142. A copy in A. Nimmo’s Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, ‘Young Hyndford,’ p. 155, is made up (with changes) from Scott, Kinloch, Buchan, Motherwell and Herd, #E#, #J#, #B#, #K#, #F#, #G#.

143, 512 a. Discovery of drowned bodies. See Revue des Traditions populaires, I, 56; Mélusine, III, 141.

69. Clerk Saunders.

P. 157. There are four copies of the Färöe ‘Faðir og dóttir,’ and Hammershaimb has printed a second (with but slight variations) in his Færøsk Anthologi: p. 253, No 31.

158. Spanish. Add: ‘La Esposa infiel,’ Pidal, Asturian Romances, No 33, p. 154.

71. The Bent Sae Brown.

P. 170. Nine versions of ‘Jomfruens Brødre’ in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 145 ff., Nos 717–23, V, 81 ff., Nos 633, 634.

72. The Clerk’s Twa Sons o Owsenford.

Pp. 174, 512. Add to the French ballads one from Carcassonne, first published in a newspaper of that place, Le Bon Sens, August 10, 1878, and reprinted in Mélusine, II, 212. The occurrence which gave rise to the ballad is narrated by Nigra, C. p. del Piemonte, p. 54 f., after Mary Lafon, and the Italian version is No 4 of that collection, ‘Gli Scolari di Tolosa.’ The ballad is originally French, the scene Toulouse.

73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.

P. 179 f. #D.# The Roxburghe copy of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor,’ III, 554, is printed by Mr J. W. Ebsworth in the Ballad Society’s edition of the Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 647. (Mr Ebsworth notes that the broadside occurs in the Bagford Ballads, II, 127; Douce, I, 120 v., III, 58 v., IV, 36; Ouvry, II, 38; Jersey, III, 88.) ‘The Unfortunate Forrester,’ Roxburghe, II, 553, is printed at p. 645 of the same volume. A copy from singing is given (with omissions) in Miss Burne’s Shropshire Folk-Lore, 1883–86, p. 545; another, originally from recitation, in Mr G. R. Tomson’s Ballads of the North Countrie, 1888, p. 82. Both came, traditionally, from print. Still another, from the singing of a Virginian nurse-maid (helped out by her mother), was communicated by Mr W. H. Babcock to the Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 33, 1889, and may be repeated here, both because it is American and also because of its amusing perversions.

THE BROWN GIRL

1 ‘O mother, O mother, come read this to me, And regulate all as one, Whether I shall wed fair Ellinter or no, Or fetch you the brown girl home.’

2 ‘Fair Ellinter she has houses and wealth, The brown girl she has none; But before I am charged with that blessing, Go fetch me the brown girl home.’

3 He dressed himself in skylight green, His groomsmen all in red; And every town as he rode through They took him to be some king.

4 He rode and he rode until he came to fair Ellinter’s door; He knocked so loud at the ring; There was none so ready as fair Ellinter herself To rise and let him in.

5 ‘O what is the news, Lord Thomas?’ she said, ‘O what is the news to thee?’ ‘I’ve come to invite you to my wedding, And that is bad news to thee.’

6 ‘God forbid, Lord Thomas,’ she said, ‘That any such thing should be! For I should have been the bride myself, And you should the bridegroom be.

7 ‘O mother, O mother, come read this to me, And regulate all as one, Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas’ wed, Or stay with you at home.’

8 ‘Here you have one thousand friends, Where there you would but one; So I will invite you, with my blessing, To stay with me at home.’

9 But she dressed herself in skylight red, Her waiting-maids all in green, And every town as she rode through They took her to be some queen.

10 She rode and she rode till she came to Lord Thomas’s door; She knocked so loud at the ring; There was none so ready as Lord Thomas himself To rise and let her in.

11 He took her by her lily-white hand, He led her across the hall; Sing, ‘Here are five and twenty gay maids, She is the flower of you all.’

12 He took her by her lily-white hand, He led her across the hall, He sat her down in a big arm-chair, And kissed her before them all.

13 The wedding was gotten, the table was set, . . . . . . . The first to sit down was Lord Thomas himself, His bride, fair Ellinter, by his side.

14 ‘Is this your bride, Lord Thomas?’ she said; ‘If this is your bride, Lord Thomas, she looks most wonderfully dark, When you could have gotten a fairer As ever the sun shone on.’

15 ‘O don’t you despise her,’ Lord Thomas said he, ‘O don’t you despise her to me; Yes, I like the end of your little finger Better than her whole body.’

16 The brown girl, having a little penknife, And being both keen and sharp, Right between the long and short ribs, She pierced poor Ellinter’s heart.

17 ‘O what is the matter, fair Ellinter,’ said he, ‘That you look so very dark, When your cheeks used to have been so red and rosy As ever the sun shined on?’

18 ‘Are you blind, or don’t you see, My heart-blood come trickling down to my knee?’

3^{1,2}. green and red should be interchanged: cf. 9.

13, 14. Rearranged.

15^1. said she.

181. Add to the French ballads, ‘La Délaissée,’ V. Smith, Romania, VII, 82; Legrand, Romania, X, 386, No 32; ‘La triste Noce,’ Thiriat, Mélusine, I, 189; and to the Italian ballad, Nigra, No 20, p. 139, ‘Danze e Funerali.’

75. Lord Lovel.

P. 205 b. Other copies of ‘Den elskedes Død’ (‘Kjærestens Død’), Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VII, 1, 2, Nos 1, 2; Bergström ock Nordlander, in Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., pp. 92, 100; and ‘Olof Adelen,’ p. 98, may be added, in which a linden grows from the common grave, with two boughs which embrace.

Note. With the Scandinavian-German ballads belongs ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, V, 20, No 14.

206, 512 b. To the southern ballads which have a partial resemblance may be added: French, Beaurepaire, p. 52, Combes, Chants p. du Pays castrais, p. 139, Arbaud, I, 117, Victor Smith, Romania, VII, 83, No. 32; Italian, Nigra, ‘La Sposa morta,’ No 17, p. 120 ff. (especially #D#).

215. I ought not to have omitted the σήματα by which Ulysses convinces Penelope, Odyssey, xxiii, 181–208; to which might be added those which convince Laertes, xxiv, 328 ff. See also the romance of Don Bueso, Duran, I, lxv:

¿Qué señas me dabas Por ser conocida? et cét.

76. The Lass of Roch Royal.

II, 213. There is a version of this ballad in the Roxburghe collection, III, 488, a folio slip without imprint, dated in the Museum Catalogue 1740. I was not aware of the existence of this copy till it was printed by Mr Ebsworth in the Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 609. He puts the date of issue circa 1765. It is here given from the original. Compare #H#.

THE LASS OF OCRAM

1 I built my love a gallant ship, And a ship of Northern fame, And such a ship as I did build, Sure there never was seen.

2 For her sides were of the beaten gold, And the doors were of block-tin, And sure such a ship as I built There sure never was seen.

3 And as she was a sailing, By herself all alone, She spied a proud merchant-man, Come plowing oer the main.

4 ‘Thou fairest of all creatures Under the heavens,’ said she, ‘I am the Lass of Ocram, Seeking for Lord Gregory.’

5 ‘If you are the Lass of Ocram, As I take you for to be, You must go to yonder island, There Lord Gregory you’ll see.’

6 ‘It rains upon my yellow locks, And the dew falls on my skin; Open the gates, Lord Gregory, And let your true-love in!’

7 ‘If you’re the Lass of Ocram, As I take you not to be, You must mention the three tokens Which passd between you and me.’

8 ‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory, One night on my father’s hill, With you I swaft my linen fine? It was sore against my will.

9 ‘For mine was of the Holland fine, And yours but Scotch cloth; For mine cost a guinea a yard, And yours but five groats.’

10 ‘If you are the Lass of Ocram, As I think you not to be, You must mention the second token That passd between you and me.’

11 ‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory, One night in my father’s park, We swaffed our two rings? It was all in the dark.

12 ‘For mine was of the beaten gold, And yours was of block-tin; And mine was true love without, And yours all false within.’

13 ‘If you are the Lass of Ocram, As I take you not to be, You must mention the third token Which past between you and me.’

14 ‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory, One night in my father’s hall, Where you stole my maidenhead? Which was the worst of all.’

15 ‘Begone, you base creature! Begone from out of the hall! Or else in the deep seas You and your babe shall fall.’

16 ‘Then who will shoe my bonny feet? And who will close my hands? And who will lace my waste so small, Into a landen span?

17 ‘And who will comb my yellow locks, With a brown berry comb? And who’s to be father of my child If Lord Gregory is none?’

18 ‘Let your brother shoe your bonny feet, Let your sister close your hands, Let your mother lace your waist so small, Into a landen span.

19 ‘Let your father comb your yellow locks, With a brown berry comb, And let God be father of your child, For Lord Gregory is none.’

20 ‘I dreamt a dream, dear mother, I could wish to have it read; I saw the Lass of Ocram A floating on the flood.’

21 ‘Lie still, my dearest son, And take thy sweet rest; It is not half an hour ago, The maid passd this place.’

22 ‘Ah! cursed be you, mother! And cursed may you be, That you did not awake me, When the maid passd this way!

23 ‘I will go down into some silent grove, My sad moan for to make; It is for the Lass of Ocram My poor heart now will break.’

(4^1. Perhaps the reading was: The fairest, etc.)

Mr W. H. Babcock has printed a little ballad as sung in Virginia, in which are two stanzas that belong to ‘The Lass of Roch Royal:’ The Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 31.

‘Come along, come along, my pretty little miss, Come along, come along,’ said he, ‘And seat yourself by me.’

‘Neither will I come, and neither sit down, For I have not a moment’s time; For I heard that you had a new sweetheart, And your heart is no more mine.’

‘It never was, and it never shall be, And it never was any such a thing; For yonder she stands, in her own father’s garden, The garden of the vine, Mourning for her own true love, Just like I’ve mourned for mine.’

I laid my head in a little closet-door, To hear what my true love had to say, So that I might know a little of his mind Before he went away.

I laid my head on the side of his bed, My arms across his breast; I made him believe, for the fall of the year, The sun rose in the west.

‘I’m going away, I’m coming back again, If it is ten thousand miles; It’s who will shoe your pretty little feet? And who will glove your hand? And who will kiss your red, rosy lips, While I’m in a foreign land?’

‘My father will shoe my pretty little feet, My mother glove my hand, My babe will kiss my red, rosy lips, While you’re in a foreign land.’

Mr James Mooney, of the Bureau of Ethnology, obtained two very similar stanzas in the ‘Carolina Mountains.’

‘O who will shoe your feet, my dear? Or who will glove your hands? Or who will kiss your red rosy cheeks, When I’m in the foreign lands?’

‘My father will shoe my feet, my dear, My mother will glove my hands, And you may kiss my red rosy cheeks When you come from the foreign lands.’

78. The Unquiet Grave.

P. 234.

E

‘In Gipsy Tents,’ by Francis Hindes Groome, 1880, p. 141, as sung by an old woman.

1 ‘Cold blows the wind over my true love, Cold blows the drops of rain; I never, never had but one sweet-heart, In the green wood he was slain.

2 ‘But I’ll do as much for my true love As any young girl can do; I’ll sit and I’ll weep by his grave-side For a twelvemonth and one day.’

3 When the twelvemonth’s end and one day was past, This young man he arose: ‘What makes you weep by my grave-side For twelve months and one day?’

4 ‘Only one kiss from your lily cold lips, One kiss is all I crave; Only one kiss from your lily cold lips, And return back to your grave.’

5 ‘My lip is cold as the clay, sweet-heart, My breath is earthly strong; If you should have a kiss from my cold lip, Your days will not be long.’

6 ‘Go fetch me a note from the dungeon dark, Cold water from a stone; There I’ll sit and weep for my true love For a twelvemonth and one day.

7 ‘Go dig me a grave both long, wide and deep; I will lay down in it and take one sleep, For a twelvemonth and one day; I will lay down in it and take a long sleep, For a twelvemonth and a day.’

F

‘Cold blows the wind,’ Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 1883–86, p. 542; “sung by Jane Butler, Edgmond, 1870–80.”

‘Cold blows the wind over my true love, Cold blow the drops of rain; I never, never had but one true love, And in Camvile he was slain.

‘I’ll do as much for my true love As any young girl may; I’ll sit and weep down by his grave For twelve months and one day.’

But when twelve months were come and gone, This young man he arose: ‘What makes you weep down by my grave? I can’t take my repose.’

‘One kiss, one kiss, of your lily-white lips, One kiss is all I crave; One kiss, one kiss, of your lily-white lips, And return back to your grave.’

‘My lips they are as cold as my clay, My breath is heavy and strong; If thou wast to kiss my lily-white lips, Thy days would not be long.

‘O don’t you remember the garden-grove Where we was used to walk? Pluck the finest flower of them all, ‘Twill wither to a stalk.’

‘Go fetch me a nut from a dungeon deep, And water from a stone, And white milk from a maiden’s breast [That babe bare never none].’

G

From the singing of a wandering minstrel and story-teller of the parish of Cury, Cornwall. After the last stanza followed “a stormy kind of duet between the maiden and her lover’s ghost, who tries to persuade the maid to accompany him to the world of shadows.” Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England, First Series, 1865, p. xvi.

1 ‘Cold blows the wind to-day, sweetheart, Cold are the drops of rain; The first truelove that ever I had In the green wood he was slain.

2 ‘’Twas down in the garden-green, sweetheart, Where you and I did walk; The fairest flower that in the garden grew Is witherd to a stalk.

3 ‘The stalk will bear no leaves, sweetheart, The flowers will neer return, And since my truelove is dead and gone, What can I do but mourn?’

4 A twelvemonth and a day being gone, The spirit rose and spoke: . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

5 ‘My body is clay-cold, sweetheart, My breath smells heavy and strong, And if you kiss my lily-white lips Your time will not be long.’

235 f. Add: Gaspé, Les anciens Canadiens, Québec, 1877, I, 220 ff.; cited by Sébillot, Annuaire des Traditions populaires, 1887, p. 38 ff..

236. #A# 5, etc. So Nigra, ‘La Sposa morta,’ p. 122, No 17, #D# 12: ‘Mia buca morta l’à odur di terra, ch’a l’era, viva, di roze e fiur.’

Little-Russian tale, Trudy, II, 416, No 122. A girl who is inconsolable for the death of her mother is advised to hide herself in the church after vespers on Thursday of the first week in Lent, and does so. At midnight the bells ring, and a dead priest performs the service for a congregation all of whom are dead. Among them is the girl’s godmother, who bids her begone before her mother remarks her. But the mother has already seen her daughter, and calls out, You here too? Weep no more for me. My coffin and my grave are filled with your tears; wretched it is to bathe in them! (W. W.) After this the mother’s behavior is not quite what we should expect. Cf. the tale in Gaspé, just cited.

79. The Wife of Usher’s Well.

II, 238.

C

‘The Widow-Woman,’ Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 1883–86, p. 541; “taken down by Mr Hubert Smith, 24th March, 1883, from the recitation of an elderly fisherman at Bridgworth, who could neither read nor write, and had learnt it some forty years before from his grandmother in Corve Dale.”

“The West and South Shropshire folk say far for fair.”

1 There was a widow-woman lived in far Scotland, And in far Scotland she did live, And all her cry was upon sweet Jesus, Sweet Jesus so meek and mild.

2 Then Jesus arose one morning quite soon, And arose one morning betime, And away he went to far Scotland, And to see what the good woman want.

3 And when he came to far Scotland, . . . . . . . Crying, What, O what, does the good woman want, That is calling so much on me?

4 ‘It’s you go rise up my three sons, Their names, Joe, Peter, and John, And put breath in their breast, And clothing on their backs, And immediately send them to far Scotland, That their mother may take some rest.’

5 Then he went and rose up her three sons, Their names, Joe, Peter, and John, And did immediately send them to far Scotland, That their mother may take some rest.

6 Then she made up a supper so neat, As small, as small, as a yew-tree leaf, But never one bit they could eat.

7 Then she made up a bed so soft, The softest that ever was seen, And the widow-woman and her three sons They went to bed to sleep.

8 There they lay; about the middle of the night, Bespeaks the youngest son: ‘The white cock he has crowed once, The second has, so has the red.’

9 And then bespeaks the eldest son: ‘I think, I think it is high time For the wicked to part from their dead,’

10 Then they laid [==led] her along a green road, The greenest that ever was seen, Until they came to some far chaperine, Which was builded of lime and sand; Until they came to some far chaperine, Which was builded with lime and stone.

11 And then he opened the door so big, And the door so very wide; Said he to her three sons, Walk in! But told her to stay outside.

12 ‘Go back, go back!’ sweet Jesus replied, ‘Go back, go back!’ says he; ‘For thou hast nine days to repent For the wickedness that thou hast done.’

13 Nine days then was past and gone, And nine days then was spent, Sweet Jesus called her once again, And took her to heaven with him.

80. Old Robin of Portingale.

P. 240 a. ‘Sleep you, wake you.’ Add: ‘Young Beichan,’ No 53, #B# 5; Duran, Romancero, I, 488, Nos 742, 743.

240 a, II, 513 a.

The very wicked knight Owen, after coming out of St Patrick’s Purgatory, lay in his orisons fifteen days and nights before the high altar,

“And suþþe in is bare flech þe holi crois he nom, And wende to þe holi lond, and holi mon bicom.”

Horstmann, Altengl. Legenden, 1875, p. 174, vv. 611–612; also p. 208, v. 697, and p. 209, v. 658. In a mediæval traveller’s tale the Abyssinians are said to burn the cross in their children’s foreheads. “Vort wonent da andere snoide kirsten in deme lande ind die heischent Ysini; wan man yr kinder douft ind kirsten macht, dan broet der priester yn eyn cruce vor dat houft.” Ein niederrheinischer Bericht über den Orient, ed. Röhricht u. Meier, in Zacher’s Zeitschrift, XIX, 15. (G. L. K.)

83. Child Maurice.

P. 272. #F.#

Mr Macmath has found the edition of 1755, and has favored me with a copy. Substitute for #F. a.#, p. 263: Gill Morice, An Ancient Scottish Poem. Second Edition. Glasgow, Printed and sold by Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1755. (Small 4º, 15 pages.) The copy mentioned p. 263 b, note, is a reprint of this or of the first edition; it has but two variations of reading. The deviations from the text of 1755 will be put in the list of things to be corrected in the print.

84. Bonny Barbara Allen.

P. 276. In Miss Burne’s Shropshire Folk-Lore, 1883–86, p. 543, there is a copy, taken from singing, which I must suppose to be derived ultimately from print.

85. Lady Alice.

P. 279. The following version is printed by Mr G. R. Tomson in his Ballads of the North Countrie, 1888, p. 434, from a MS. of Mrs Rider Haggard.

GILES COLLINS AND LADY ANNICE

1 Giles Collins said to his own mother, ‘Mother, come bind up my head, And send for the parson of our parish, For to-morrow I shall be dead.

2 ‘And if that I be dead, As I verily believe I shall, O bury me not in our churchyard, But under Lady Annice’s wall.’

3 Lady Annice sat at her bower-window, Mending of her night-coif, When passing she saw as lovely a corpse As ever she saw in her life.

4 ‘Set down, set down, ye six tall men, Set down upon the plain, That I may kiss those clay-cold lips I neer shall kiss again.

5 ‘Set down, set down, ye six tall men, That I may look thereon; For to-morrow, before the cock it has crowd, Giles Collins and I shall be one.

6 ‘What had you at Giles Collins’s burying? Very good ale and wine? You shall have the same to-morrow night, Much about the same time.’

7 Giles Collins died upon the eve, This fair lady on the morrow; Thus may you all now very well know This couple died for sorrow.

Lt-Col. Prideaux has sent me this copy, from Fly-Leaves, London, John Miller, 1854, Second Series, p. 98.

GILES COLLINS

1 Lady Annis she sat in her bay-window, A-mending of her night-coif; As she sat, she saw the handsomest corpse That ever she saw in her life.

2 ‘Who bear ye there, ye four tall men? Who bear ye on your shouldyers?’ ‘It is the body of Giles Collins, An old true lovyer of yours.’

3 ‘Set’n down, set’n down,’ Lady Annis she said, ‘Set’n down on the grass so trim; Before the clock it strikes twelve this night, My body shall lie beside him.’

4 Lady Annis then fitted on her night-coif, Which fitted her wondrous well; She then pierced her throat with a sharp-edgd knife, As the four pall-bearers can tell.

5 Lady Annis was buried in the east church-yard, Giles Collins was laid in the west, And a lily grew out from Giles Collins’s grave Which touched Lady Annis’s breast.

6 There blew a cold north-westerly wind, And cut this lily in twain; Which never there was seen before, And it never will again.

89. Fause Foodrage.

P. 298 a. Add, ‘Sönnens hævn,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, IV, 113, No 284; a fragment.

90. Jellon Grame.

Pp. 303 b, 513 b. Marvellous growth, etc. Ormr Stórólfsson very early attained to a great size, and at seven was a match for the strongest men: Flateyjarbok, I, 521, Fornmanna Sögur, III, 205, cited by Bugge in Paul u. Braune’s Beiträge, XII, 58. Wolfdietrich gains one man’s strength every year, and amazes everybody in his infancy even. Wolfdietrich A, ed. Amelung, sts 31, 38–41, 45, 233, 234, pp. 84, 85, 86, 108. (Some striking resemblances to Robert le Diable.) Cf. also Wigalois, ed. Pfeiffer, 36, 2 f.,==Benecke, 1226 f.:

In einem jâre wuchs ez mêr dan ein anderz in zwein tuo.

Elias (afterwards the Knight of the Swan), who is to avenge his mother, astonishes by his rapid growth the old hermit who brings him up:

“A! Dieu! dist ly preudons, à qui est cest enfant? Il est sy jouènes d’âge et s’a le corps sy grant: S’il croist sy faitement, ce sera ung gaiant.”

Chevalier au Cygne, ed. Reiffenberg, vv. 960–963, I, 45. “The little Malbrouk grew fast, and at seven years old he was as tall as a tall man.” Webster, basque Legends, 2d ed., p. 78; Vinson, Folk-Lore du Pays basque, p. 81. The Ynca Mayta Ccapac “a few months after his birth began to talk, and at ten years of age fought valiantly and defeated his enemies.” Markham, Narratives of the Rites and Laws of the Yncas, Hakluyt Society, p. 83. A Tête-Rasée infant in four days grows to the full size of man. Petitot, Traditions Indiennes du Canada Nord-Ouest, pp. 241–243. (G. L. K.)

91. Fair Mary of Wallington.

P. 310. #Danish.# Another copy of ‘Malfreds Død,’ Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, VI, 195, No 804.

93. Lamkin.

P. 320. The negroes of Dumfries, Prince William County, Virginia, have this ballad, orally transmitted from the original Scottish settlers of that region, with the stanza found in #F# (19) and #T# (15):

Mr Lammikin, Mr Lammikin, oh, spare me my life, And I’ll give you my daughter Betsy, and she shall be your wife.

“They sang it to a monotonous measure.” (Mrs Dulany.)

94. Young Waters.

P. 343. By the kindness of Mr Macmath, I have now a copy of the original edition.

Young Waters, an Ancient Scottish Poem, never before printed. Glasgow, Printed and sold by Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1755. (Small 4º, 8 pages.) The few differences of reading will be given with corrections to be made in the print.

95. The Maid Freed from the Gallows.

P. 346. Mr Alfred Nutt has communicated to the Folk-Lore Journal, VI, 144, 1888, the outline of a ballad in which, as in some versions of the European continent, the man has the place of the maid. But this may be a modern turn to the story, arising from the disposition to mitigate a tragic tale. The ballad was obtained “from a relative of Dr Birbeck Hill’s, in whose family it is traditional. Mother, father, and brethren all refuse him aid, but his sweetheart is kinder, and buys him off.” For the burden see #C# 6, which, as well as #B# 12, might better have been printed as such.

1 ‘Hold up, hold up your hands so high! Hold up your hands so high! For I think I see my own mother coming Oer yonder stile to me. Oh the briars, the prickly briars, They prick my heart full sore; If ever I get free from the gallows-tree, I’[ll] never get there any more.

2 ‘Oh mother hast thou any gold for me, Any money to buy me free, To save my body from the cold clay ground, And my head from the gallows-tree?’

3 ‘Oh no, I have no gold for thee, No money to buy thee free, For I have come to see thee hanged, And hangëd thou shalt be.’

Struppa’s text of ‘Scibilia Nobili’ is repeated in Salomone-Marino’s Leggende p. siciliane in Poesia, p. 160, No 29. The editor supplies defects and gives some varying readings from another version, in which Scibilia is the love, not the wife, of a cavalier.—Mango, Calabria, in Archivio, I, 394, No 75 (wife).—‘La Prigioniera,’ Giannini, No 25, p. 195, two copies, reduces the story to four or five stanzas. The sequel, No 26, p. 197, is likely to have been originally an independent ballad. It is attached to ‘Scibilia Nobili,’ but is found separately in Bernoni, XI, No 3, ‘La Figlia snaturata,’ Finamore, Archivio, I, 212, ‘Catarine.’

347 b. ‘Frísa vísa’ is reprinted by Hammershaimb, Færøsk Anthologi, p. 268, No 34. The editor expressly says that the ballad is used as a children’s game, like the English #F#. So also are Danish #A#, and a Magyar ballad of like purport, to be mentioned presently.

348 b. #Danish.# #A#, in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, ‘Jomfruens udløsning,’ II, 49, No 279, 1884; #B#, III, 5, No 3, 1885. From tradition. Both versions agree with the Swedish in all important points, and the language of #B# points to a Swedish derivation.

349 a. Ransom for maid refused by father, mother, brother, sister, and paid by lover: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, I, 50, No 11; II, 245, No 7. (W. W.)

349 b, 514 a. Man redeemed by maid when abandoned by his own blood: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, I, 250, No 26; Servian, Vuk, III, 547, No 83; Magyar-Croat, Kurelac, p. 254, No 61, p. 352, No 96. (W. W.)

In a Slovak ballad in Kollár, Národnie Zpiewanky, II, 13, translated by Herrmann, Ethnologische Mittheilungen, col. 42 f., John, in prison, writes to his father to ransom him; the father asks how much would have to be paid; four hundred pieces of gold and as many of silver; the father replies that he has not so much, and his son must perish. An ineffectual letter to mother, brother, sister, follows; then one to his sweetheart. She brings a long rope, with which he is to let himself down from his dungeon. If the rope proves too short, he is to add his long hair (cf. I, 40 b, line 2, 486 b); and if it be still too short, he may light upon her shoulders. John escapes. Nearly the same is the Polish ballad translated in Waldbrühl’s Balalaika, which is referred to II, 350 b.

A fragment of a Székler ransom-ballad is found in Arany and Gyulai’s collection, III, 42: Herrmann, as above, col. 49. Another form of love-test is very popular in Hungary, of which Herrmann gives eight versions. In one of these, from a collection made in 1813, Arany and Gyulai, I, 189 (Herrmann’s IV), the story is told with the conciseness of the English ballad. A snake has crept into a girl’s bosom: she entreats her father to take it out; he dares not, and sends her to her mother; the mother has as little devotion and courage as the father, and sends her to her brother; she is successively passed on to sister-in-law, brother-in-law, sister; then appeals to her lover, who instantly does the service. This is the kernel, and perhaps all that is original, in versions, I (of Herrmann), col. 34 f., contributed by Kálmány; II, 36 f., contributed by Szabó; V, col. 38, Kálmány, Koszorúk az Alföld vad Virágaiból, I, 21, translated into German by Wlislocki, Ungarische Revue, 1884, p. 344; VIII, col. 39, Kálmány, Szeged Népe, II, 13. In Herrmann, VI, col. 38, Kálmány, Koszorúk, II, 62; VII, col. 38 f., Kálmány, Szeged Népe, II, 12; and III, col. 37 (a fragment), young man and maid change parts. In I, III, V (?), VI, VII, the father says he can better do without a daughter (son) than without one of his hands, and the youth (maid) would rather lose one of his (her) hands than his (her) beloved.[326] In I the snake has been turned to a purse of gold when the maid attempts to take it out; in II, according to a prose and prosaic comment of the reciter, there was no snake, but the girl had put a piece of gold in her bosom, and calls it a yellow adder to experiment upon her family; in VII, again, there is no snake, but a rouleau of gold, and the snake is explained away in like manner in a comment to VIII. Even the transformation in I is to be deprecated; the money in the others is a modern depravation.

A brief ballad of the Transylvania Gipsies, communicated and translated by Wlislocki, Ungarische Revue, 1884, p. 345 f., agrees with the second series of those above. A youth summons mother and sister to take a reptile from his breast; they are afraid; his sweetheart will do it if she dies. A very pretty popular Gipsy tale to the same effect is given by Herrmann, col. 40 f.

A Roumanian ballad, ‘Giurgiu,’ closely resembling the Magyar I, VII, from Pompiliu Miron’s Balade populare române, p. 41, is given in translation by Herrmann, col. 106 ff.; a fragment of another, with parts reversed, col. 213.

A man, to make trial of his blood-relations, begs father, mother, etc., to take out a snake from his breast, and is refused by all. His wife puts in her hand and takes out a pearl necklace, which she receives as her reward: Servian, Vuk, I, No 289, Herzegovine, No 136, Petranović, Serajevo, 1867, p. 191, No 20; Slavonian, Stojanović, No 20. (W. W.)

There are many variations on this theme, of which one more may be specified. A drowning girl given over by her family is saved by her lover: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, II, 80, No 14, 104, No 18, 161, No 15, 726, No 11; Servian, Vuk, I, Nos 290, 291; Bulgarian, Dozon, p. 98, No 61; Polish, Kolberg, Lud, 1857, I, 151, 12^a. Again, man is saved by maid: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, I, 114, No 28; Waclaw z Oleska, p. 226. (W. W.)

96. The Gay Goshawk.

P. 356 a. (1.) (2.) (4.) are now printed in Mélusine, II, 342, III, 1, II, 341. (15.) (16.) ‘La Fille dans la Tour,’ Victor Smith, Chansons du Velay et du Forez, Romania, VII, 76, 78. (17.) Bladé, Poésies p. rec. dans l’Armagnac, etc., p. 23, ‘La Prisonnière.’

There is an Italian form of ‘Belle Isambourg’ in Nigra, No 45, p. 277, ‘Amor costante.’

356 b. For other forms of ‘Les trois Capitaines,’ see, French, Puymaigre, I, 131, 134 and note; Tiersot, in Revue des Traditions populaires, III, 501, 502; Rolland, III, 58 ff., a, b, d; Italian, Marcoaldi, p. 162, ‘La Fuga e il Pentimento;’ Nigra, No 53, p. 309, ‘L’Onore salvato.’

357 b, second paragraph.

On messenger-birds, see Nigra, p. 339 f., and note.

A girl feigns death simply to avoid a disagreeable suitor. Proof by fire, etc.; cf. #C# 23 f., #D# 7 f., #E# 27 f., #F# 1–3, #G# 36–38. Servian. (1.) Mara, promised to the Herzog Stephen, and wishing for good reasons to escape him, pretends death. Stephen is incredulous; puts live coals into her bosom, then a snake; she does not flinch. He then tickles her face with his beard; she does not stir. Stephen is convinced and retires; Mara springs from the bier. Her mother asks her what had given her most trouble. She had not minded the coals or the snake, but could hardly keep from laughing when tickled with the beard. Vuk, I, 551, No 727. (2.) The suitor tests the case by thrusting his hands into the girl’s bosom, fire, snake. The first is the worst. Vuk, Herzegovine, No 133. (3.) The same probation, with the same verdict (in this case the girl loves another), Petranović, Srpske n. pjesme, Serajevo, 1867, No 362. Cf. Rajković, p. 176, No 211.—Bulgarian. Proofs by snow and ice laid on the heart; a snake. She stands both. Miladinof, No 68, cf. No 468. In the same, No 660, the girl holds out under ice and snake, but when kissed between the eyes wakes up.—Bohemian, Erben, p. 485, No 20, ‘The Turk duped,’ and Moravian, Sušil, No 128, the tests are lacking. (W. W.)

Three physicians from Salerno pour melted lead in the hands of Fenice, who is apparently dead. (She has taken a drug which makes her unconscious for a certain time. Her object is to escape from her husband to her lover, Cligés.) The lead has no effect in rousing Fenice. Crestien de Troies, Cligés, ed. Förster, vv. 6000–6009, pp. 246, 247. Förster cites Solomon and Morolf (Salman und Morolf, st. 133, ed. F. Vogt, Die deutschen Dichtungen v. Salomon und Markolf, I, 27, molten gold), and other parallels. Einleitung, pp. xix-xx. Cf. Revue de Traditions pop., II, 519. (G. L. K.)

100. Willie o Winsbury.

P. 398. There is a ‘Lord Thomas of Wynnesbury ’ in the Murison MS., p. 17, which was derived from recitation in Aberdeenshire, but it seems to me to have had its origin in the stalls, resembling #I#, which is of that source.

101. Willie o Douglas Dale.

Pp. 407, 409, #A# 14^2, #B# 12^2, ‘An lions gaed to their dens,’ ‘And the lions took the hill.’ “Lions we have had verie manie in the north parts of Scotland, and those with maines of no less force than they of Mauritania are sometimes reported to be; but how and when they were destroied as yet I doo not read:” Holinshed, I, 379.

102. Willie and Earl Richard’s Daughter.

P. 412 b. #A# is translated by Anastasius Grün, Robin Hood, p. 57; Doenniges, p. 166; Knortz, L. u. R. Altenglands, No 18; Loève-Veimars, p. 252.

105. The Bailiff’s Daughter of Islington.

II, 426 b, 428. The tune of 105 #b# is, I have a good old woman at home: of #f#, I have a good old wife at home.

#Italian.# ‘La Prova,’ Nigra, No 54, p. 314, #A-D#. ‘Il Ritorno,’ Giannini, p. 154.

106. The Famous Flower of Serving-Men.

P. 428. The Roxburghe copy, III, 762, Aldermary Church-Yard, is in the Ballad Society’s edition, VI, 567. The Euing copy, printed for John Andrews, is signed L. P., for Laurence Price: Mr J. W. Ebsworth, at p. 570.

109. Tom Potts.

P. 441 b. #B. b.# Ritson’s copy was “compared with another impression, for the same partners, without date.”

I have failed to mention, but am now reminded by Mr Macmath, that the ballad of ‘Jamie o Lee’ is given, under the title ‘James Hatelie,’ by Robert Chambers in the Romantic Scottish Ballads, their Epoch and Authorship, 1859, p. 37, Lord Phenix appearing as simple Fenwick.

112. The Baffled Knight.

P. 480 b. Spanish #C#, ‘El Caballero burlado,’ is now printed in full in Pidal, Asturian Romances, No 34, p. 156.

481 b. Add: ‘La Marchande d’Oranges’ in Rolland, V, 10. (Say Rolland, I, 258.)

Tears. Add: Rolland, II, 29, e, g, h.

Varieties. There may be added: Mélusine I, 483==Revue des Traditions pop., III, 634 f.; Romania, X, 379 f., No 18; Bladé, Poésies p. de la Gascogne, II, 208.

482 a. #Italian.# Nigra, No 71, p. 375, ‘Occasione mancata,’ #A-F#. See also ‘La Monacella salvata,’ No 72, p. 381, and ‘Il Galante burlato,’ No 75, p. 388.

482 b. The ballad, it seems, is by Madame Favart: see Rolland, II, 33, k. Add: l, ib., p. 34, and Poésies pop. de la France, MS., III, 493.

483 b. Danish #A# is translated by Prior, III, 182, No 126.

113. The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry.

P. 494.

“On the west coast of Ireland the fishermen are loth to kill the seals, which once abounded in some localities, owing to a popular superstition that they enshrined ‘the souls of thim that were drowned at the flood.’ They were supposed to possess the power of casting aside their external skins and disporting themselves in human form on the sea-shore. If a mortal contrived to become possessed of one of these outer coverings belonging to a female, he might claim her and keep her as his bride.” Charles Hardwick, Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore, chiefly Lancashire and the North of England, p. 231. (G. L. K.)

506 a, last paragraph but one. So in Douns Lioð, Strengleikar, ed. Kayser and Unger, p. 52 ff. (G. L. K.)

VOL. III.

116. Adam Bell, etc.

P. 17 b. I have omitted to mention the Norwegian ballad ‘Hemingjen aa Harald kungen’ in Bugge’s Gamle Norske Folkeviser, No 1, p. 1.

44. ‘A Robynhode,’ etc.

In the Convocation Books of the Corporation of Wells, Somerset, vol. ii, “under the 13th Henry 7, Nicholas Trappe being master, there is the following curious entry, relative, apparently, to a play of Robin Hood, exhibitions of dancing girls, and church ales, provided for at the public expense.

“‘Et insuper in eadem Convocatione omnes et singuli burgenses unanimi assensu ad tunc et ibidem dederunt Magistro Nicolao Trappe potestatem generalem ad inquirendum in quorum manibus pecuniæ ecclesiæ ac communitatis Welliæ sunt injuste detentæ; videlicet, provenientes ante hoc tempus de Robynhode, puellis tripudiantibus, communi cervisia ecclesiæ, et hujusmodi. Atque de bonis et pecuniis dictæ communitati qualitercunque detentis, et in quorumcunque manibus existentibus. Et desuper, eorum nomina scribere qui habent hujusmodi bona, cum summis, etc.’” H. T. Riley in the First Report of the Historical MSS Commission, 1874, Appendix, p. 107.

The passage in the Wells Convocation Records is perhaps illustrated by an entry in the Churchwardens’ Accounts of the Parish of Kingston-upon-Thames, cited by Ritson, Robin Hood, 2d ed., I, cxviii, from Lysons, Environs of London, 1792, I, 228:

“16 Hen. 8. Rec^d at the church-ale and Robynhode all things deducted

3 10 6.”

With this may be compared the following:

“Anno MDLXVI, or 9 of Eliz., payde for setting up Robin Hoodes bower

0 18”

(Churchwardens’ Accompts of St. Helen’s [at Abingdon, Berks], Archæologia, I, 18). This latter entry is loosely cited by Ritson, I, cxiv, 2d ed., as dating from 1556. Ibidem may be found his opinion as to R. H.’s bower (n. *). Hampson, Medii Ævi Kalendarium, I, 265, quotes this entry, also with the wrong year. He has no doubt about the Bower: “An arbour, called Robin Hood’s Bower, was erected in the church-yard, and here maidens stood gathering contributions.” I, 283. (All the above by G. L. K.)

117. A Gest of Robyn Hode.

P. 46 b, note. The Sloane MS. cited by Ritson as No 715 is No 780 (which is bound up with 715) and is “paper, early xviith century:” Ward, Catalogue of Romances, etc., I, 517. This correction is also to be made at p. 121 b, note; pp. 129 a, 173 b, 175 b.

51 b, sts 62–66.

The late Miss Hamilton McKie, New Galloway, told me this story:

A sturdy beggar, or luscan, came to a farm-house among the hills and asked quarters for the night. The gudewife, before entrusting him with the bedclothes in which to sleep in one of the outhouses, required a pledge or security for their return. He said he had none to offer but his Maker, and got his night’s lodging. In the morning he walked off with the bedclothes, but, becoming bewildered in a mist, he wandered about the whole day, and in the evening, seeing the light of a house, made towards it and knocked at the door. A woman opened it and said, “Your Cautioner has proved gude!” He had come back to the same house.

Mactaggart gives the story in his Gallovidian Encyclopedia, p. 325, but without the trait of the security. (W. Macmath.)

147. Robin Hood’s Golden Prize.

P. 210. The signature to a, L. P., is for Laurence Price: Ebsworth, Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 64.

150. Robin Hood and Maid Marian.

P. 218 (and 43–46).

Mr H. L. D. Ward, in his invaluable Catalogue of Romances, etc., while treating of Fulk Fitz-Warine, has made the following important remarks concerning the literary history of Maid Marian (p. 506 f.).

“There were three Matildas who were popularly supposed to have been persecuted by King John. The most historical of these was Matilda de Braose. She was imprisoned, with her son and her son’s wife, in 1210, some (Matthew Paris and others) say at Windsor, but another chronicler says at Corfe Castle (see a volume published by the Soc. de l’Hist. de France in 1840), and they were all starved to death. The second was Fulk’s wife Mahaud, who was the widow of Theobald Walter. The third was the daughter of Robert Fitz-Walter. The only authority that can be quoted for the story of the third Matilda is the Chronicle of Dunmow, of which one copy of the 16th century remains, in the Cotton MS., Cleopatra, C. iii. (ff. 281–7), but which was probably begun by Nicholas de Brumfeld, a canon of Dunmow in the latter part of the 13th century. It is there stated that, when Robert Fitz-Walter fled to France in 1213, his daughter took refuge in Dunmow Priory, where John, after a vain attempt at seduction, poisoned her. Now all these three Matildas may be said to appear in the two plays known as The Downfall and The Death of Robert Earle of Huntington, by Anthony Munday and Henry Chettle, which are first mentioned in Henslowe’s Diary in February and November, 1598. Two of them indeed appear in their own names, Matilda de Braose (or Bruce) and Matilda Fitz-Walter; and the one is starved at Windsor and the other is poisoned at Dunmow in the second play. But in the first play Matilda Fitz-Walter escapes the solicitations of John by joining her newly-married husband in Sherwood, where they are called Robin Hood and Maid Marian. This is clearly owing to a combination of the second and third Matildas. It may have been effected by the course of tradition, or it may have been the arbitrary work of a single author. But if the romance of Fulk Fitz-Warin had been known to either Munday or Chettle, other portions of it would almost certainly have appeared in plays or novels or ballads. Now Munday introduces the piece as a rehearsal, conducted by John Skelton the poet, who himself plays Friar Tuck, with a view to performing it before Henry VIII. And it is not at all unlikely that it was really founded upon a May-day pageant devised by Skelton, but not important enough to be specified in the list of his works in his Garlande of Laurell. We know that Skelton did write Interludes, of which one still remains, Magnyfycence: and Anthony Wood tells us that at Diss in Norfolk, where Skelton was rector, he was ‘esteemed more fit for the stage than the pew or pulpit.’ Thus there was no man more likely than Skelton to devise a new Robin Hood pageant for his old pupil, Henry VIII. And again, there was no man more likely to celebrate the story of Matilda Fitz-Walter, for the patron of his living was Robert Lord Fitz-Walter, who was himself a Ratcliffe, but who had inherited the lordship of Diss through his grandmother, the last of the old Fitz-Walters.[327] But whether Skelton may have read the then accessible poem about Fulk, afterwards described by Leland, or whether either he or Munday may have received the story in its composite form, it is pretty evident that the two reputed objects of King John’s desire, Matilda Walter and Matilda Fitz-Walter, have become blended together into the Maid Marian of the play.”

155. Sir Hugh, or, The Jew’s Daughter.

P. 235 a. Bells ringing of themselves (in ballads). Pidal, Asturian Romances, ‘Il Penitente,’ Nos 1, 2, pp. 82, 84; Nigra, ‘Sant’ Alessio,’ No 148, A, B, p. 538 ff., and see p. 541.

161. The Battle of Otterburn.

P. 294. St George our Lady’s knight.

A nemnede sein Gorge our leuedi kniȝt:

Sir Beues of Hamtoun, ed. Kölbing, v. 2817, p. 129; Maitland Club ed., v. 2640. (G. L. K., who also gave me the case in Roister Doister.)

“Now holy St George, myne only avower, In whom I trust for my protection, O very Chevalier of the stourished Flower, By whose Hands thy Sword and Shield hast wone, Be mediator, that she may to her Sone Cause me to hear Rex splendens songen on hye, Before the Trinitye, when that I shall dye.”

Poem on the Willoughbies of Eresby, in the form of a prayer to St George put into the mouth of one of the Willoughby family, Dugdale, Baronage of England, 1676, II, 85, 86. Dugdale does not date the MS. The male line of the Willoughbies became extinct in 1525.

(3. flourished? 4. thou thy?) (G. L. K.)

169. Johnie Armstrong.

P. 371 f. #B# #a#, #b# are signed T. R., the initials of a purveyor or editor of ballads for the popular press. #B# #a# of ‘Robin Hood and the Butcher,’ No 122, and #a# of ‘Robin Hood and the Beggar,’ I, No 133, bear the same signature: see pp. 116, 156 of this volume. No such rhymster as T. R. shows himself to be in these two last pieces could have made ‘Johnie Armstrong,’ one of the best ballads in English.

178. Captain Car, or, Edom o Gordon.

P. 423. “The Donean Tourist,” by Alexander Laing, Aberdeen, 1828, p. 100, has a very bad copy, extended to fifty-nine stanzas.

182. The Laird o Logie.

P. 449. ‘Young Logie’ is among the ballads taken down by Mrs Murison in Aberdeenshire, p. 88 of the collection. The copy is imperfect, and extremely corrupted. Lady Margaret is the daughter of the king (who is not called by that name), but is confused with her mother, who counterfeits her consort’s han-write and steals his right-han glove, as is done in #D#. Three ships at the pier of Leith, and three again at Queen’s Ferry.

184. The Lads of Wamphray.

P. 458. Mr Macmath has pointed out to me a case in Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials, I, 397 f., in which “Jok Johnstoun, callit the Galzeart, Jok J., bruþer to Wille of Kirkhill,” with a Grahame, a couple of Armstrangs, and their accomplices, are accused of the theft of twelve score sheep from James Johnstoune, in February, 1557. We can make no inference as to the relation of Jok the Galliard to the Galliard of our ballad. There were generations of Jocks and Wills in these families, and the sobriquet of The Galliard, as Pitcairn has remarked, “was very prevalent.” He cites a “Gilbert Ellote, callit Gib the Galzart,” III, 441, under the date 1618.

To be Corrected in the Print.

I, 7 b, last line but three of text. Read Fordringer.

71 a, 33^2. tell thee, ed. 1802; tell to thee, ed. 1833.

132 b, 7^2. Read Lord John.

159 a, 3^{1,2}. to your, in the MS.

186 a, Notes to #A b#. Add 2^2. slung at.

256 a, 1^4. Read Machey for May-hay.

274 b, note [261]. Read Romania IX.

356 b, #D c# 1^3. Read O go not.

400 a, #I.# Read II, 360.

469 a, 22^3. Read your for yonr.

482 a, #D# 16, 17, 5th line. Read Hine.

489 a, between 67 a and 84 b. Insert 6. Willie’s Lady.

503 a. The title of #I# is ‘Hynd Horn.’

504 b, between 226 a and 231. Insert 21. The Maid and the Palmer.

II, 70 a, 18^4. Fall, ed. 1802; fell, ed. 1833.

104 a, 19^{1,2}. Read pat.

129 a, 11^1. Read ‘O here I am’ the boy says.

135 a, #A. a.# 11^1. Drop.

176 b, 11^3. Read Gae.

179 b, note to #B# 7^2. Drop.

192 a, 7^4. Read maun. 8^2. Read Ye’r seer. 9^2. Drop the brackets.

193 a, 20^4. Read ye never gat. 22^2. Drop the brackets. 25^2. Read dreams.

193 b, 28^1. Read Ge (==Gae) for Ye.

226 a, 229 a, ‘Sweet William’s Ghost,’ #A.# Read 1750 for 1763.

239 a, #B# 3^1. Read O she.

272 f. Read (according to the text of 1755): 2^1. will I. 7^4. gar thy.

10^2. to thy.

18^3. maun cum.

22^1. Note: “perhaps fetchie” nurse.

23^4. hes he.

26^1. sits.

26^3. means a’ those folks.

26^4. mother she.

27^1. And when he cam to gude grene wod.

27^3. first saw.

27^4. Kemeing down.

28^2. Than, misprint for That.

34^4. they lay.

35^4. hip was.

39^2. ill deed.

275 b. Read, v. 17, You see his heid upon my. v. 20, that did, apparently a misprint for that thocht.

The only variations in the other copy are: 26^3, these for those; thocht for did, in v. 20 of p. 275 b.

276 a. #A. a.# Read 1750 for 1763 twice.

276 b, 4th line of the preface. Read Annandale. 13th line of the preface. Read our old. 2^1. Read man (ed. 1750).

310 a, third paragraph, line seven. Read authenticatable.

343. Read (ed. 1755): 2^3. And there. 3^3. And mantel. 12^1. I have. (Drop the notes to 3^3, 5^1.)

348 b, #G#, #H#. Read Reifferscheid.

352 b, #D# 5^4. MS. has And free.

378 a, last line. Read Andrew Small.

381 b, 20^3. Read Scotch.

393 a, 14^2. Read shook.

405 b, notes. 16 belongs to #I# and should be on p. 406.

437 b, translations. Read #E# is translated by Grundtvig, etc.; #D# by Afzelius, etc.

462 a, 26^4. Read sned for sued.

478, first line after the title. Read 56 b for 27 b.

481 b, third paragraph, sixth line. Read, 27.

500, #20#, first line. Read #O# for #M#. English #N#, #O# should be #O#, #P#.

502 b, #34#, first line. Read Decurtins for Decurtius.

506 b, #44#, 400 a. Drop #Q#, etc.. Note to 401, drop Revue des Traditions, etc..

513 a, seventh line from bottom. Read quam.

III, 6 a, 12^1. Read Braidisbauks.

11, #M.# Say: Reminiscences by Thomas Carlyle, II, 171, 1881, Froude’s Life of Carlyle, II, 416, 1882. In line 2, read, O busk and go with me, me.

46 b, line 9. Read S. S. for S. G.

95 b, note [86]. Say: Jock o the Side, #B# 13, 14, #C# 10, III, 480, 482.

(The following are mostly trivial variations from the spelling of the text.)

I, 71 b, 51^1. Oh, ed. 1802; O, ed. 1883.

80 b, 14^1. Read f[e]ast.

132 a, 5^1. Read father[s].

133 a, #M#. Read Deer.

137 b, #S# 4^2. Read cam.

256 b, 3^2. Read O. 4^2. Read rocked.

302 a, #B#^{1,2}. Read Whare.

321 b, 7^4. Read doun.

325 a, 3^3. Read Heavn. 6^2. Read danton.

331 a, #C# 2^4. Read thrie. #D# 2^3. Read micht.

441 a, 1^6. Read warsell. 4^3. Read bloody.

468 a, 4^1. Read stock. 10^2. Read saftly. b 13^2. MS. has bone. 16^3. Read Beachen.

481 a, 31^2. Read dazled.

500 a, 10^4. Read down.

508 a, 7^4. Read by.

II, 32 a, #P# 1^4. Read aboon.

70 a, 19^4. Read cheik. 20^2. Read smil’d. b, 30^4. Read tine.

90 b, 26^1. Read won, twice.

108 a, 2^4. Read die. b, 11^3. Read mony.

130 a, 3^3. Read Gil. 4^3. Read Jill.

131 a, 17^3. Read han. b, 19^3. Read ain.

152 a, 4^3, 5^1. Read grene.

153 b, 22^3. Read grene.

161 a, 7^1, 8^1. Read tane.

192 a, 5^4. Read An. 7^3. Read askin.

193 b, 26^1. Read bour.

240 a, note. Read Madden.

272 f. Read (ed. 1755): 1^1. Gill Morice. 5^2. said. 6^3. red. 8^3, 16^3, 17^3, 24^3, 26^1, 36^3. guid grene wod. 9^2, 18^2. slive. 10^2, 15^2. Tho. 11^1. micht. 11^2. near. 11^2, 20^2. coud. 12^3. I’s. 13^3. whar he. 14^2. woud. 15^8. stracht. 17^4. Even. 21^4. welcom. 21^4, 39^4. me. 22^2. lie. 22^4. she. 23^2. he. 24^4. with. 26^1. Gill. 26^2. whistld. 26^4. tarrys. 27^2, 36^2. miekle. 27^2. cair. 28^2. well. 29^4, 31^1, 31^4, 33^3, 34^1. heid. 30^3. bodie. 33^4. town. 34^4. there. 35^3. ance. 37^1. credle. 39^2. die.

275 a, last line but three. Read Wi, pearce. L. l. but one, naithing, heid. Last line, coud. b, v. 3. day[s]. 7. been. 8. me. 15. teirs, wensom. 18. bluid. 22. comly. 25. driry.

321 b, note [152]. Read Balcanqual.

331 b, 3^1. Read nurice.

343. Read (ed. 1755): 1^4, favord. 5^1. spack. 6^3. bot. 7^3. bin. 9^1. coud. 9^4, 14^4. die.

352 b, 3^3. Read pown.

363 b, 11^1. Read ladie’s.

364 a, 20^1. Read ladye’s.

389 a, 8^3. Read You’r.

390 b, 29^2. Read hir. 51. Read bouer.

391 a, 12^1. Read Whan.

396 a, 1^2. Read blithe.

404 b, 9^1. Read Whan.

473 b, 17^3. Read mony.

475 a, 11^3. Read down, twice.

478. Read: 1^2, on for an. 4^1. s_ir_. 6^2. do. 14^1. a[t] London. 15^1. medans. 17^1. leyne.

483, 1^3. Read wel. 6^4. Read beene.

III, 2 a, note, line 5. Read Bennet.

5 a, #D# 5^2. Read Lincolm. b, 10^1. Read there.

8 b, 24^1. Read betide.

253 b, #R#, v. 3. Read dochter.

-----

Footnote 1:

This manuscript, which Fry bought in Glasgow in 1810, contained several other ballads, “but written so corruptly as to be of little or no authority.” It did not occur to Fry that the illiteracy of the drummer gave his ballads the best of authority. I have done what I could to recover the manuscript, but in vain, though I had the kindest assistance in Bristol from the Rev. J. Percivall, Mr Francis Fry, and Mr J. F. Nicholls.

Footnote 2:

See Motherwell’s apt remarks, Minstrelsy, p. 1.

Footnote 3:

“It is sometimes said that this outlaw possessed the old Castle of Morton in Dumfriesshire, now ruinous.... The mention of Durisdeer, a neighboring parish, adds weight to the tradition.” Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1833, III, 114 f. Mr W. Bennett, writing in 1826 in The Dumfries Monthly Magazine, III, 250, of which he was editor, speaks of a field a little to the southwest of Lochmaben as still showing the trace of a circular tower, which was “called Cockiesfield, from one John Cock, or O’Cock, who had there his residence, and who during his lifetime was one of the most renowned freebooters in Annandale.” Mr Macmath, who pointed out the passage to me, observes that in Thomson’s map of Dumfriesshire, 1828, the name is given “Cocketfield,” and that there is also a Cocket Hill.

Footnote 4:

Colophon: [P]rynted at London, in Fletestrete, at [the si]gne of the Sonne, by me Iohn [By]ddell. In the yere of our lord god m.ccccc.xxxvj. The seconde daye of June. Iohn̄ Byddell.

Eight lines wanting: 120^{3,4}; 121; 168^{3,4}. Mutilated at the beginning: 169; 170. Mutilated at the end: 164^1; 165^3; 167^1.

Footnote 5:

Eleven lines wanting: 60^{2,3,4}; 67^4; 68^{1,2}; 100^3; 104^4; 105^{1,2}; 110^4. Mutilated at the beginning: 61–64^1; 64^3–67^3; 75^4–83^1; 90^{4,5,6}; 96^4; 105^3–110^3; 111^{1,2}. Mutilated at the end: 60^1; 101^3; 102^3; 103^1; 104^{2,3}. Elsewhere: 97^{2,3}; 104^1.

Footnote 6:

Colophon. Imprinted at London, in Lothburye, by Wyllyam Copeland.

Footnote 7:

“Two leaves, discovered in the pasteboard or fly-leaves of a book received from abroad.”

Footnote 8:

#b# was kindly copied for me by Mr J. P. Collier in 1857. Mr Collier described his fragment as “a scrap which once formed the fly-leaf of a book.” Hazlitt says that the type is clearly older than Copland’s, and very like Wynkyn de Worde’s.

Footnote 9:

This old woman gives the title ‘Auld Matrons’ to a ballad in Buchan’s larger collection, II, 238, in which kitchen-tradition has made over some of the incidents in the First Fit of Adam Bell.

Footnote 10:

Vischer, Die Sage von der Befreiung der Waldstädte, pp 33, 36 f; Rochholz, Germania, XIII, 56 f. “Wa er das nit hette gethan, so hette er selbs müssen darumb sterben:” Russ’s Chronicle, 1482, Vischer, p. 50.

Footnote 11:

Liliencron, Die historischen Volkslieder der Deutschen, II, 109, No 147; Böhme, p. 47, No 10; Vischer, p. 46; Rochholz, Tell u. Gessler, p. 180; Tobler, p. 3. This or a like song was known to Russ, 1482. Tschudi, about a hundred years later, c. 1570, says that the child was five or six, not more than six, years old: Vischer, p. 122. There is another, but later and even worse, “song” about William Tell and the confederacy: Böhme, No 11, p. 49; Wunderhorn, 1808, II, 129; etc.

Footnote 12:

Müllenhoff, Sagen, u. s. w., der Herzogthümer Schleswig Holstein u. Lauenburg, p. 57, No 66. The story is localized at another place in Holstein, with the change of apple to pear: Lütolf, Germania, VIII, 213.

Footnote 13:

Torfæus, in his history of Norway, III, 371, speaks of a ballad about Heming sung in his time, c. 1700, which would seem to have been the same as this, only somewhat fuller. Landstad, p. 187.

These ballads represent the king as regarding himself as quite unapproachable in athletic exercises. The little boy of ballads, smádrengin, kongins lítil svein, Norwegian #B#, Färöe #A#, or, in a Färöe variation (Hammershaimb, p. 161), Harald’s queen, intimates knowledge of an equal or superior. Harald answers, in true ballad style, in Färöe #A# 6, If he is not my better, you shall burn for it. In Norwegian #B#, Färöe #A#, the king immediately sets out to find his rival. Cf. Charlemagne and King Arthur, I, 275, 279, and the beginning of ‘King Estmere,’ II, 51, and Landstad, p. 177, note 1.

Footnote 14:

The Witches’ Hammer was composed in 1486, and Punker is there recorded to have exercised his devil’s craft sixty years before. Elsewhere Punker [Pumper] is said to have been torn to pieces by oppressed peasants in 1420. The name is spelled Puncler in the edition of 1620, pp 248 f, and Puncher in the edition followed by Grimm. See Rochholz in Germania, XIII, 48–51.

Footnote 15:

The Tell story, complete, Apfelschuss, Felsensprung und Tyrannenmord, is said to occur among the Finns and the Lapps: E. Pabst, cited by Pfannenschmid, Germania, IX, 5. Particulars’, which are very desirable, are not given. This would not add much to the range of the story.

Footnote 16:

In the prose Hemings Ðáttr, the intent to take vengeance appears from Hemingr’s wish that the king should stand close to the mark; in the ballads he reserves an arrow. In the Ólafs Saga, Eindriði openly announces his purpose; in all but this version (treating the prose Hemings Ðáttr and the ballads as one), the archer provides himself with two arrows, or three.

Footnote 17:

Such as the penalty for missing, as above said; or Tell’s shooting at a hundred and twenty paces, and bearing Cloudesly’s name, William. If the coincidence as to the distance should be held to be very important, I, for one, should have no objection to admitting that this part of the ballad may be derived from the Tell story.

J. Grimm remarked in 1813, Gedanken über Mythos, Epos und Geschichte (Kleinere Schriften, IV, 77), that the similarity of the names Tell, Bell, Velent, Bellerophon (see a little further on, p. 21), could hardly fail to strike even a superficial observer, and also pointed to the identity of Tell’s and Cloudesly’s Christian name. In his Deutsche Mythologie, I, 317, ed. 1875, it is simply said that the surname Bell, as well as Cloudesly’s Christian name, is suggestive of William Tell.

Footnote 18:

The poet is Mohammed ben Ibrahim, 1119–c. 1230, and he bore the honorary title of Furîd Uddîn (Pearl of Religion), and the sobriquet of Attâr, perfumer. The title of the poem is The Language of Birds. Garcin de Tassy, La Poésie Philosophique et Religieuse chez les Persans, Extrait de la Revue Contemporaine, t. xxiv, pp. 4, 35. “Nur den Apfel treffen wir hier.... Es bleibt also weiter nichts übrig als anzunehmen dass die persische Sage ... in die grauesten Urzeiten des arischen Alterthums hinaufreichen muss.” (Pfannenschmid, in Germania, X, 26 f.) A rapid inference.

Footnote 19:

Eindriði also had accomplished a harder shot before he tried the chessman. But Hemingr, having done what was thought a masterly thing in cleaving a nut, is compelled to knock the same nut, shooting at the same distance, from his brother’s head.

Footnote 20:

Das Inland, No 39, p. 630, cited by Rochholz, Tell und Gessler, p. 40 f. Gerhard’s Wila, I, 147 f, cited by Rochholz, p. 39 f. Eustathius to Iliad, xii, 101, first cited by Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie (who says, “Es stimmt auch theilweise,” p. 317, ed. 1875); by others later.

Footnote 21:

To Virgil, Ecl. v, 11, cited by Ideler, Die Sage von dem Schuss des Tell, p. 59, note 3.

Footnote 22:

Hisely, Recherches Critiques sur l’Histoire de Guillaume Tell, p. 590.

Footnote 23:

Pfannenschmid, in Germania, X, 25; Rochholz, Tell und Gessler, p. 41 f.

Footnote 24:

T. B. Thorpe, Reminiscences of the Mississippi, in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, XII, 30. A story is there related of a famous Mike Fink’s striking an apple from a man’s head by shooting between it and the skull, like the Scandinavian marksmen. In Captain Mayne Reid’s Scalp Hunters, or Romantic Adventures in Northern Mexico, ch. 22, we are told of an Indian’s shooting a prairie-gourd from the head of his sister, which may or may not be an invention. The title of the chapter is A Feat à la Tell, and this may perhaps be the only foundation for an assertion that the Tell story had been found in Mexico; at least, inquiries have not brought to light any other.

Footnote 25:

For the interpretation which has been put upon the Tell story, see, among many, Pfannenschmid, in Germania, X, 1–40; Rochholz, Tell und Gessler, in Sage und Geschichte.

The mildew of myth spreads, of course, from William to his comrades. J. Grimm, in his Gedanken über Mythos, etc., 1813, interprets Clim, Cloudesly, and Clough all in the sense of nail, sharp point, arrow; and as Bell is βέλος, Tell is telum, Toko τόξον, and Egil is igel, hedgehog, and therefore the spine of the hedgehog, and therefore dart, the names are all one as to meaning. But Grimm appears to have been less confident about these etymologies in later days. Sir G. W. Cox, on the other hand, says that Cloudesly’s name marks him as an inhabitant of Cloudland. (Meanwhile, every likelihood favors the derivation of Cloudesly from clúd, rock, and leáh, lea, and the interpretation of Clim as Clem and of Clough as ravine.) Cloudesly and his mates are all the more mythical because they are three, and because, as it is asserted, Robin Hood is mythical, with whom they are, one and all, assumed to be identical.

Footnote 26:

Camden, Britannia, II, 175, ed. 1772. King Edward the First, when hunting in this forest, is said to have killed two hundred bucks in one day. For Arthur’s hunting there, see Robson, Three Early English Metrical Romances, p. 26, LV^7, p. 59, V^1; Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 298, v. 16; this book, I, 294, st. 9, etc.

Footnote 27:

Cronykil of Scotland, Book vii, v. 3523 f, ed. Laing, II, 263.

Footnote 28:

John Bell robbed the Chamberlain’s men of cattle, 1337: Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, II, 437. The Bells are included with the Grahams, Armstrongs, and others, among the bad and more vagrant of the great surnames of the border, by the Lord Warden of the Marches of England, 1593 (Rymer’s Fœdera, XVI, 183, ed. 1727, cited by Bishop Percy), and had no better estimation in Scotland.

Footnote 29:

#a# preserves stanzas 1–83^4, 118^4–208^3, 314^2–349^3; with defects at 2^{2,3}, 7^1, 123^4–127^3, 133–136^3. It has therefore about 200 stanzas out of 456.

#c# preserves 26^4–60^3; #d#, 280–350, very much mutilated; #e#, 435^4–450^1, very much mutilated. #e#, inserted among the Douce fragments, was presented by Mr Halliwell-Phillips.

Footnote 30:

Dr Farmer considered these leaves to be of Rastell’s printing, and older by some years than #b#; which is not quite intelligible, since Rastell’s work is put at 1517–38. #c# is cited under Rastell’s name in Ritson’s second edition as well as his first.

Footnote 31:

9^4, #a#, allther moste: #b#, all other moste. (#f#, #g#, of all other; #b#, 283^3, all ther best; 284^1, all theyre best; #f#, #g#, al of the best.) 61^4, #a#, Muche in fere: #b#, Much also. 68^4, #a#, By xxviii (eight and twenty) score: #b# (#f#, #g#), By eyghtene score, which gives no meaning. 138^3, #a#, frembde bested: #b# (#f#, #g#), frend. 173^4, #a#, same nyght: #b#, same day. 176^4, #a#, wode hore: #b# (#f#, #g#), wode tre. 333^2, #a#, on rode: #b# (#f#, #g#), on a tre. 343^2, #a#, The sherif: #b# (#f#, #g#), The knyght.

Footnote 32:

13^3, #a#, #b#, husbonde: #f#, #g#, husbandeman. 256^1, #b#, in yonder other corser: #f#, on the other courser: #g#, in the other coffer. 274^4, 286^2, 387^4, 412^2, #b#, trystell-tre: #f#, #g#, trusty tre. 385^1, #b#, “tarpe”: #f#, #g#, seale. 371^4, #b#, blyve: #f#, #g#, blythe, etc.

Footnote 33:

111^2, That all this worldë wrought; 163^2, The whilë that he wolde; 316^4, To metë can they gone; 72^4, But his bowë tree; 29^1, They brought hym to the lodgë dore.

255^4, To seke a monkës male; 360^3, He shall haue the knyghtës londys; 369^1, And I wyll be your ledës man; 376^1, Robyn toke the kyngës hors; 366^3, 367^2, 368^4, etc. 336^3, For our derë lady loue.

31^1, With wordës fayre and fre; 34^4, Of all these wekÿs thre; 210^2, Or a man that myrthës can; 318^4, The wallës all aboute; 60^2, 331^4, 332^2, 371^2, etc. 433^4, And all his mennës fe.

21^2, By a dernë strete; 25^1, Welcome be thou to grenë wode; 298^1, But had I the in grenë wode; 327^3, 373^3, 374^3.

56^4, Ouer the saltë see; 173^4, That ylkë samë nyght; 213^2, By the hyë way; 235^2, Of all this longë day; 241^1, 292^4, 303^2, 305^1, 393^2, 455^4, etc. 25^2, Hendë knyght & fre; 113^3, Out, he sayd, thou falsë knyght; 242^3, Therfore I cun the morë thanke.

47^2, 100^2, By God that madë me; 80^4, To walkë by his syde; 222^2, And that shall rewë the; 297^4, Other wyse thou behotë me; 426^1, So God me helpë, sayd our kynge. #d#, 282^2, 317^2, herkeneth.

Footnote 34:

Ritson had seen, among Peck’s collections for the history of Premonstratensian monasteries, a Latin poem with the title Prioris Alnwicensis de bello Scotico apud Dunbar, tempore regis Edwardi I, dictamen, sive rithmus Latinus, quo de Willielmo Wallace, Scotico illo Robin Whood, plura sed invidiose canit, and in the margin the date 22 Julii, 1304; whence he concluded that Robin Hood was both mentioned, and compared with Wallace, in 1304. The date refers to matters in the poem. The MS. (Sloane, 4934, pars II, ff 103–106) is of the eighteenth century, Hardy, Descriptive Catalogue, etc., III, 279, No 503. The title was supplied by Peck, one of whose marks is the spelling Whood.

Footnote 35:

Either Randle the second, earl from 1128 to 1153, or Randle the third, earl from 1181 and for fifty years, would be likely to be the subject of ballads, but especially the latter. He figures in the story of Fulk Fitz Warine: Wright, p. 149.

Footnote 36:

Cited by Ritson. I have not found the writs.

Footnote 37:

Cited in the Edinburgh Review, 1847, LXXXVI, 134, note; and by Hunter, 1852, The Ballad-Hero, Robin Hood, p. 58 (where the year is wrongly given as 1432). It appears from many cases that the name was very often pronounced Róbinhode.

Footnote 38:

“Robertus Hode et Litill-Johanne, cum eorum complicibus, de quibus stolidum vulgus hianter in comœdiis et in tragœdiis prurienter festum faciunt, et præ ceteris romanciis mimos et bardanos cantitare delectantur.”

“Of whom the foolish vulgar in comedies and tragedies make lewd entertainment, and are delighted to hear the jesters and minstrels sing them above all other ballads:” Ritson, whose translation may pass. Ritson rightly observes that comedies and tragedies here are not to be understood as plays. Then follows this abstract of one of the ‘tragedies.’

“De quo etiam quædam commendabilia recitantur, sicut patuit in hoc, quod cum ipse quondam in Barnisdale, iram regis et fremitum principis declinans, missam, ut solitus erat, devotissime audiret, nec aliqua necessitate volebat interrumpere officium, quadam die, cum audiret missam, a quodam vicecomite et ministris regis, eum sæpius perprius infestantibus, in illo secretissimo loco nemorali ubi missæ interfuit exploratus, venientes ad eum qui hoc de suis perceperunt ut omni annisu fugeret suggesserunt. Quod, ob reverentiam sacramenti, quod tunc devotissime venerabatur, omnino facere recusavit. Sed, ceteris suis ob metum mortis trepidantibus, Robertus, in tantum confisus in eum quem coluit, inveritus, cum paucis qui tunc forte ei affuerunt inimicos congressus eos de facili devicit, et, de eorum spoliis ac redemptione ditatus, ministros ecclesiæ et missas in majore veneratione semper et de post habere præelegit, attendens quod vulgariter dictum est:

Hunc deus exaudit qui missam sæpius audit.”

Scotichronicon, ed. Goodall, II, 104.

Footnote 39:

Major was in extreme old age in 1524: see Moir’s Wallace, I, iv. “Robertus Hudus Anglus et Paruus Ioannes, latrones famatissimi in nemoribus latuerunt, solum opulentorum virorum bona diripientes. Nullum nisi eos inuadentem, vel resistentem pro suarum rerum tuitione, occiderunt Centum sagittarios ad pugnam aptissimos Robertus latrociniis aluit, quos 400 viri fortissimi inuadere non audebant. Rebus huius Roberti gestis tota Britannia in cantibus utitur. Fœminam nullam opprimi permisit, nec pauperum bona surripuit, verum eos ex abbatum bonis ablatis opipare pauit.” Historia Maioris Britanniæ, fol. 55 b.

It will be observed that Wyntoun, Bower, and Mair are Scots.

Footnote 40:

Because comic and not heroic, and because Robin is put at a disadvantage. In the other ballads Robin Hood is “evermore the best.” Though there is humor in the Gest, it is kept well under, and never lowers Robin’s dignity.

Footnote 41:

The only one of these ballads entered in the Stationers’ Registers, or known to have been printed, at a date earlier than the seventeenth century is No 124, ‘Of Wakefylde and a Grene,’ 1557–58.

The earliest known copy of Robin Hood’s Garland is one in the Bodleian Library, Wood, 79, printed for W. Gilbertson, 1663. This contains seventeen ballads. An edition of 1670, in the same library, Douce, H. 80, for Coles, Vere and Wright, omits the first of these, a version of Robin Hood and Queen Katherine which is found nowhere else. There is an edition, printed by J. M. for J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger, among Pepys’s Penny Merriments, vol. iii, and Gutch had a copy, printed for the same, to which he gives the date 1686. Garlands of the eighteenth century increase the number of ballads to twenty-seven.

Footnote 42:

In the Stationers’ Registers, 1562–63, Arber, I, 204, ‘a ballett of Robyn Hod’ is licensed to John Alde. The best one would expect of this would be a better copy of some later broadside. ‘Robyn Hode in Barnysdale stode’ is the first line of a mock-song introduced into the Morality of the Four Elements (which alludes to the discovery of America “within this xx. yere”): Halliwell, Percy Society, vol. xxii, p. 51. It is mentioned (“As R. H.,” etc.) in Udall’s translation of Erasmi Apothegmata, 1542: Hazlitt, Handbook, pp 513 f. This line, Ritson observes, has been repeatedly cited, singularly enough, in law-cases (and always misquoted: in Barnwood stood, in Barnwell stood, upon Greendale stood): Ritson’s Robin Hood, 1832, I, lxxxix ff. We find “Robyn stode in Bernesdale,” Gest, 3^1; also, “As Robin Hood in the forest stood,” No 138, 2^1; “When Robin Hood in the greenwood stood,” No 141, 1^1, both texts very much later than the interlude. It is not strictly necessary to assume, as Ritson does, that the line belongs to a lost ballad; it may be from some older text of one that we have.

Footnote 43:

Knights and squires are exempted in the Gest, 14, inconsistently with 7, and, as to knights, with the tenor of what follows.

Footnote 44:

Bower, as above. The writer in the L. & W. Review does not distinguish Fordun and Bower.

Footnote 45:

Lieut.-Col. Prideaux states the resemblances between the story of Fulk Fitz Warine and that of Robin Hood, in an interesting article in Notes and Queries, 7th series, II, 421 ff, and suggests that the latter has borrowed from the former. Undoubtedly this might be, but both may have borrowed from the common stock of tradition.

Footnote 46:

The Pinder of Wakefield became, according to his ballad, one of Robin Hood’s men, but is not heard of in any other. Will Stutly is also one in No 141; Clifton, No 145; David of Doncaster, No 152. Robin Hood assumes the name Locksley in No 145, and by a blunder Locksley is made one of his men in 147 and 153. Scarlet and Scathlock are made two in the Earl of Huntington plays. Grafton says that the name of William of Goldesborough was graven, among others, with that of Robin Hood on Robin’s tombstone: Chronicle, I, 222, ed. 1809. Ritson says that Munday makes Right-hitting Brand one of the band: I have not observed this.

Footnote 47:

Robin Hood presents the friar with a “lady free,” not named, who may be meant for a degraded Maid Marian, such as Falstaff refers to in 1 Henry IV, III, iii, 129.

Footnote 48:

Stow, Survay of London, 1598, p. 72, in Ritson’s excellent note EE, Robin Hood, I, cix ff, ed. 1832, which contains almost all the important information relative to the subject. Stow adds that in consequence of a riot on Mayday, 1517, the great Mayings and May-games were not after that time “so freely used as afore.”

Footnote 49:

These are the people’s sports. Hall, fol. lvi, b, cited by Ritson, gives an account of a Maying devised by the guards for the entertainment of Henry VIII and his queen, in 1516. The king and queen, while riding with a great company, come upon a troop of two hundred yeomen in green. One of these, calling himself Robin Hood, invites the king to see his men shoot, and then to an outlaws-breakfast of venison. The royal party, on their return home, were met by a chariot drawn by five horses, in which sat “the Lady May accompanied with Lady Flora,” who saluted the king with divers songs.

Footnote 50:

Lysons, The Environs of London, I, 225–32.

Footnote 51:

The last two lines are to be understood, I apprehend, exclusively of the May, and the lord and lady mean Lord and Lady of the May. The Lord of Misrule, “with his hobby-horses, dragons, and other ántiques,” used to go to church: Stubbes, Anatomy of Abuses, ed. Furnivall, p. 147.

Footnote 52:

Myselfe remembreth of a childe, in contreye native mine, A Maygame was of Robyn Hood, and of his traine, that time, To traine up young men, stripplings, and eche other younger childe, In shooting; yearely this with solempne feast was by the guylde Or brotherhood of townsmen don, etc.

Richard Robinson, 1553, in Ritson, p. cxii f, ed. 1832.

Footnote 53:

A Christmas game of very modern date is described in The Mirror, XXVI, 42, in which there was a troop of morris-dancers with Robin Hood and Maid Marian; and also Beelzebub and his wife. Cited by Kuhn, Haupt’s Zeitschrift, V, 481.

Footnote 54:

The entries in the Kingston accounts for 28 and 29 Henry VIII, if they refer to the morris-dance only, would show the morris to be constituted as follows:

(28 Henry VIII.) Four dancers, fool, Maid Marian, friar, and piper. A minstrel is also mentioned.

(29 Henry VIII.) Friar, Maid Marian, Morian (Moor?), four dancers, fool. This entry refers to the costume of the characters, which may account for the omission of the piper. Lysons, Environs of London, I, 228 f.

Footnote 55:

It need hardly be remarked that the morris was neither an exclusively English dance nor exclusively a May-game dance. A Flemish morris, delineated in an engraving dated 1460–70, has for personages a lady, fool, piper, and six dancers: Douce, p. 446 f. In Robert Laneham’s description of a bride-ale at Kenilworth, 1575, there is a morris-dance, “according to the ancient manner,” in the which the parties are Maid Marian, the fool, and six dancers: Furnivall, Captain Cox, p. 22 f. A painting of about 1625 has a morris-dance of seven figures, a Maid Marian, fool, piper, hobby-horse, and three dancers. A tract, of Elizabeth’s time, speaks of “a quintessence, beside the fool and the Maid Marian, of all the picked youth, footing the morris about a Maypole,” to the pipe and tabor, and other music; and a poem of 1614 describes a country morris-dance of a fool, Maid Marian, hobby-horse, and piper: Ellis’s Brand, p. 206 f.

Footnote 56:

The well-to-do Codrus says to the starving Menalcas, who has been venting his spleen against “rascolde” rivals,

‘Yet would I gladly heare some mery fit Of Maide Marian, or els of Robin Hood.’

Codrus is here only suggesting themes which would be agreeable to him. We are not to deduce from his words that there were ballads about Maid Marian. But if there had been, they would have been distinct from ballads about Robin Hood.

Footnote 57:

See Monmerqué et Michel, Théatre Français au Moyen Age, 1842, Notice sur Adam de la Halle, pp 27 ff, the songs, pp 31 ff, the play, pp 102 ff; Ducange, Robinetus. Henryson’s Robin and Ma’kyne was undoubtedly suggested by the French pastorals.

Footnote 58:

I must invoke the spirit of Ritson to pardon the taking of no very serious notice of Robin Hood’s noble extraction. The first mention of this seems to be in Grafton’s Chronicle, 1569. Grafton says: In an olde and auncient pamphlet I finde this written of the sayd Robert Hood. This man, sayth he, discended of a noble parentage; or rather, beyng of a base stocke and linage, was for his manhoode and chiualry aduaunced to the noble dignitie of an erle.... But afterwardes he so prodigally exceeded in charges and expences that he fell into great debt, by reason whereof so many actions and sutes were commenced against him, wherevnto he aunswered not, that by order of lawe he was outlawed, etc.: I, 221, ed. 1809. (Some such account furnished a starting-point for Munday.) Leland also, Ritson adds, has expressly termed him “nobilis” (Ro: Hood, nobilis ille exlex), Collectanea, I, 54, ed. 1770, and Warner, in Albion’s England (1586), p. 132, ed. 1612, calls him a “county”:

Those daies begot some mal-contents, the principall of whom A countie was, that with a troop of yeomandry did roam.

Ritson also cites the Sloane MS., 715, “written, as it seems, toward the end of the sixteenth century;” and Harleian MS., 1233, which he does not date, but which is of the middle of the seventeenth century. Against the sixteenth-century testimony, so to call it, we put in that of the early ballads, all of which describe Robin as a yeoman, the Gest emphasizing the point.

Footnote 59:

The Edinburgh Review, LXXXVI, 123 (with a slight correction in one instance), mostly from Ritson, I, cix, cxxvi ff, 1832, and from Wright’s Essays, etc., II, 209 f, 1846. Of course the list might be extended: there are some additions in The Academy, XXIV, 231, 1883, and four Robin Hood’s wells in Yorkshire alone are there noted.

Footnote 60:

A Robin Hood’s Stone, near Barnsdale, of what description we are not told, is mentioned in an account of a progress made by Henry VII, and Robin Hood’s Well, in the same region, in an account of a tour made in 1634: Hunter’s Robin Hood, p. 61. The well is also mentioned by Drunken Barnaby. A Robin Hood’s Hill is referred to in Vicars’ account of the siege of Gloucester in 1643: The Academy, XXIV, 231.

Footnote 61:

Gough, in the Gentleman’s Magazine, March 8, 1793, cited by Gutch. Wright has, somewhat naively, furnished his own refutation: “A large tumulus we know well in our own county, near Ludlow in Shropshire, which is also called Robin Hood’s But, and which affords us a curious instance how new stories were often invented to account for a name whose original import was forgotten. The circumstances, too, in this case, prove that the story was of late invention. The barrow, as regarded superstitiously, had borne the name of Robin Hood. On the roof of one of the chancels of the church of Ludlow, which is called Fletchers’ chancel, as having been, when ‘the strength of England stood upon archery,’ the place where the fletchers held their meetings, and which is distant from the aforesaid barrow two miles, or two miles and a half, there stands an iron arrow, as the sign of their craft. The imagination of the people of the place, after archery and fletchers had been forgotten, and when Robin Hood was known only as an outlaw and a bowman, made a connection between the barrow (from its name) and the chancel (from the arrow on its roof), and a tale was invented how the outlaw once stood upon the former and took aim at the weathercock on the church steeple; but the distance being a little too great, the arrow fell short of its mark, and remained up to the present day on the roof of the chancel.” (Essays, I, 209 f.)

A correspondent of The Academy, XXIV, 181, remarks that one of the Anglo-Saxon charters in Kemble’s Codex Diplomaticus mentions a “place” in Worcestershire called Hódes ác (now Hodsoak), that there is a village in Nottinghamshire called Hodsock, that it is improbable that two men living in districts so widely apart should each have given his name to an oak-tree, and that therefore we may safely conclude Hód to be a mythical personage. Somebody’s tree is given as a boundary mark more than thirty times in these charters, somebody’s thorn at least ten times, somebody’s oak at least five times. How often such a mark might occur in connection with any particular name would depend upon the frequency of the name. Hód or Hóde is cited thirteen times by Kemble, and few names occur oftener. The name, we may infer, was relatively as common then as it is in our century, which has seen three Admiral Hoods (who, by virtue of being three, may be adjudged as mythical by and by) and one poet Hood alive together. Why may not three retired wícings and one scóp, of the name, have been living in Berks, Hants, Wilts, and Worcestershire in the tenth century?

Footnote 62:

Plot’s History of Staffordshire, p. 434, cited in Ellis’s Brand, I, 383; The Mirror, XX, 419, cited by Kuhn, Haupt’s Zeitschrift, V, 474 f. The Kentish sport is also described in the Rev. W. D. Parish’s Dictionary of the Kentish Dialect, p. 77, under Hoodening.

Footnote 63:

In West Worcestershire h is put for w, “by an emphatic speaker,” in such words as wood, wool: Mrs Chamberlain’s Glossary. Hood for wood occurs in East Sussex; also in Somerset, according to Halliwell’s Dictionary. The derivation of Hood from wood has often been suggested: as by Peele, in his Edward I, “Robin of the Wood, alias Robin Hood,” Works, Dyce, I, 162. The inventive Peck was pleased always to write Robin Whood.

Footnote 64:

The Hobby-Horse, Schimmel, Fastnachtspferd, Herbstpferd, Adventspferd, Chevalet, Cheval Mallet, is maintained by Mannhardt to be figurative of the Corn-Sprite, Korndämon; nichts anderes als das Kornross, Vegetationsross, nicht aber eine Darstellung Wodans, wie man nach Kuhns Vorgang jetzt allgemein annimmt: Mannhardt, Mythologische Forschungen, in Quellen u. Forschungen, LI, p. 165. “Man sieht den Ungrund der bei deutschen Mythologen so beliebten Identifizierung von Robin Hood und Wodan:” Mannhardt, Wald- u. Feldkulte, I, 546, note 3.

Footnote 65:

The reasoning, in the instance of Robin Hood, has been signally loose and incautious; still, the general conclusion finds ready acceptance with mythologists, on one ground or another, and deductions are made with the steadiness of a geometer. Robin Hood, being one of the “solar heroes,” “has his faint reflection in Little John, who stands to him in the same relation as Patroclus to Achilles,” etc. “Maid Marian will therefore be the dawn-maiden, to be identified with Briseis,” etc. “Friar Tuck is one of the triumvirate who appear also in the Cloudesly and Tell legends,” etc. And again, by an interpreter of somewhat different views: “though a considerable portion of this story is ultimately derived from the great Aryan sun-myth, there is the strongest reason for believing that the Anglian Hód was not originally a solar personage, but a degraded form of the God of the Wind, Hermes-Woden. The thievish character of this divinity explains at once why his name should have been chosen as the popular appellation of an outlaw chief.” (The Academy, XXIV, 250, 384.)

The Potter in the later Play of Robin Hood (not in the corresponding ballad) wears a rose garland on his head. So does a messenger in the history of Fulk Fitz Warine, Wright, p. 78, not to mention other cases referred to by Ritson, Robin Hood, II, 200, ed. 1832. Fricke, Die Robin-Hood Balladen, p. 55, surmises that the rose garland worn by the Potter may be a relic of the strife between Summer and Winter; and this view, he suggests, would tend to confirm “the otherwise well-grounded hypothesis” that Robin Hood is a mythological personage.

Footnote 66:

“Desde la última década del siglo xvi hasta pocos años hace, no eran ya los héroes del pueblo ni los Bernardos, ni los Cides, ni los Pulgares, ni los Garcilasos, ni los Céspedes, ni los Paredes, porque su pueblo estaba muerto ó trasformado en vulgo, y este habia sustituido á aquellos los guapos Francisco Estéban, los Correas, los Merinos, los Salinas, los Pedrajas, los Montijos.” (Duran, p. 389, note.)

Footnote 67:

Bernardo del Montijo, Duran, No 1342, kills an alcalde at the age of eighteen, “con bastante causa:” upon which phrase Duran observes, “para el vulgo era bastante causa, sin duda, el ser alcalde.” Beginning with so much promise of spirit, he afterwards, in carrying off his mistress, who was about to be wedded against her will, kills six constables, a corregidor, the bridegroom, and a captain of the guard. For differences, compare the English broadside R. H. and Allen-a-Dale, No 138.

Footnote 68:

“Doch sind sie meist ohne grossen poetischen Werth, nur als Zeugniss für die Denkweise des Volkes über die ‘armen Bursche,’ die es lange nicht für so grosse Verbrecher hält als der Staat, und die es, ihre Vorurtheile theilend, im Gegentheile oft als kühne Freiheitshelden betrachtet, die gegen grössere oder kleinere Tyrannen sich zu erheben und denselben zu trotzen wagen, und als ungerecht verfolgte Söhne seines Stammes in Schutz nimmt gegen die fremden Gesetzvollstrecker.” (Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, p. xxvi f.)

Footnote 69:

J. Hunter (Critical and Historical Tracts, No IV), whom I follow here, shows that Barnsdale was peculiarly unsafe for travellers in Edward the First’s time. Three ecclesiastics, conveyed from Scotland to Winchester, had a guard, sometimes of eight archers, sometimes of twelve, or, further south, none at all; but when they passed from Pontefract to Tickhill, the number was increased to twenty, propter Barnsdale: p. 14.

Footnote 70:

Hunter suspects that the Nottinghamshire knight, Sir Richard at the Lee, in the latter half of the Gest, was originally a different person from the knight in the former half, “the knight of the Barnsdale ballads,” p. 25. Fricke makes the same suggestion, Die Robin-Hood Balladen, p. 19. This may be, but the reasons offered are not quite conclusive.

Footnote 71:

And so, as to Nottingham and Barnsdale, in No 118; and perhaps No 121, for the reference to Wentbridge, st. 6, would imply that Robin Hood is in Barnsdale rather than Sherwood.

Footnote 72:

I say Barnsdale, though the place is not specified, and though Sherwood would remove or reduce the difficulty as to distance. We have nothing to do with Sherwood in the Gest: a rational topography is out of the question. In the seventh fit the king starts from Nottingham, 365, walks “down by yon abbey,” 368, and ere he comes to Nottingham, 370, falls in with Robin, 375.

Footnote 73:

This was a custom of Arthur’s only upon certain holidays, according to the earlier representation, but in later accounts is made general. For romances, besides these mentioned at I, 257, in which this way of Arthur’s is noted (Rigomer, Jaufré, etc.), see Gaston Paris, Les Romans en vers du Cycle de la Table Ronde, Histoire Litt. de la France, XXX, 49.

Footnote 74:

Pothouis Liber de Miraculis S. D. G. Mariæ, c. 33, p. 377; Vincentius B., Speculum Hist., vii. c. 82. Mussafia, Sitzungsberichte der Wiener Akad., Phil.-Hist. Classe, CXIII, 960–91, notes nine Latin copies, besides that attributed to Potho, in MSS mostly of the 13th century. Gautier de Coincy, ed. Poquet, cols. 543–52; Adgar’s Marienlegenden, Neuhaus, p. 176, No 29; Miracles de Nostre Dame par Personnages, G. Paris et U. Robert, VI, 171–223, No 35; Romania, VIII, 16, No 3 (Provençal). Berceo, in Sanchez, II, 367, No 23. Unger, Mariu Saga, No 15, pp. 87–92, 1064–67. Mone’s Anzeiger, VIII, col. 355, No 8, as a broadside ballad. Afanasief, Skazki, vii, No 49, as a popular tale, the Jew changed to a Tartar, and the Cross taken as surety, Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales, p. 27. “God-borg” in Alfred’s Laws, c. 33, Schmid, Gesetze der Angelsachsen, p. 88 f., was perhaps only an asseveration with an invocation of the Deity, like the Welsh “briduw.” And so “Ich wil dir got ze bürgen geben,” “Got den wil ich ze bürgen han,” in the Ritter v. Staufenberg, vv. 403, 405, Jänicke, Altdeutsche Studien.

Footnote 75:

Le Doctrinal de Sapience, fol. 67 b, cited by Legrand, is not to the purpose. Scala Celi refers to a Speculum Exemplorum.

In Peele’s Edward I, the friar, having lost five nobles at dice to St Francis, pays them to St Francis’ receiver; but presently wins a hundred marks of the saint, and makes the receiver pay. (The story has in one point a touch of the French fabliau.) Peele’s Works, ed. Dyce, I, 157–61.

Footnote 76:

hey hoy.

Footnote 77:

435. The three in 433, as in 416, is for rhyme, and need not be taken strictly.

Footnote 78:

Critical and Historical Tracts, No IV, Robin Hood, p. 28 ff.

Footnote 79:

Think of Robin as light porter,—Robin who had been giving and taking buffets that might fell an ox. Think of him as worn out with the work in eleven months, and dropped for disability. Think of his being put on threepence a day, after paying his yeomen at thrice the rate, 171, not to speak of such casual gratuities as we hear of in 382. “There is in all this, perhaps, as much correspondency as we can reasonably expect between the record and the ballad,” says Hunter, p. 38.

Footnote 80:

Hunter asks if it is not possible to find in this Robert Hood of Wakefield, near Barnsdale, “the identical person whose name has been so strangely perpetuated.” This Robert Hood would be a person of some consideration, and he would thus be qualified “for his station among the vadlets of the crown,”—three-penny vadlets, Great Hob, Little Coll, Robert Trash, and their fellows. The Wakefield Robert’s wife was named Matilda, “and the ballad testimony is—not the Little Gest, but other ballads of uncertain antiquity,—that the outlaw’s wife was named Matilda, which name she exchanged for Marian when she joined him in the green-wood.” (Pp 46–48.) Hunter has made a trivial mistake about Matilda: she belongs to Munday’s play, and not to the ballads (ballad) he has in mind.

Footnote 81:

The sheriff flees from Barnsdale “towards his house in Nottingham,” in stanza 57. In fact, though these places are fifty miles apart, this ballad treats them as adjacent. See p. 50 f.

Footnote 82:

Formerly among Sir John Fenn’s papers (for the history of which see Gairdner, Paston Letters, I, vii. ff); now in the possession of Mr William Aldis Wright, of Trinity College, Cambridge. The fragment, Mr Wright informs me, is written on a paper which was evidently the last half-leaf of a folio MS. On the back are various memoranda, and among them this: It^m. R^d of Rechard Wytway, penter [or peuter], for hes hosse rent, in full payment, lx [ix?] s’, the vij day of November, aº Ed. iiij^{ti} xv \[1475]. The grammatical forms of themselves warrant our putting the composition further back. This interesting relic has already been printed in Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 321, from a very incorrect copy made by Dr Stukely. It is given here from a transcript made for me by Henry Bradshaw, of honored memory. Mr Wright has compared this with the original, and given me the history of the paper, so far as known.

This paper, as far as we can see, came into Sir John Fenn’s hands in company with the Paston Letters. In a letter of the date 1473, Sir John Paston writes: W. Woode, whyche promysed ... he wold never goo fro me, and ther uppon I have kepyd hym thys iii yer to pleye Seynt Jorge, and Robyn Hod and the Shryff off Nottyngham, and now, when I wolde have good horse, he is gone into Bernysdale, and I without a keeper. Fenn, Original Letters, etc., 1787, II, 134, cited by Ritson; Gairdner, Paston Letters, III, 89. The play cited above might be called one of Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham, and may possibly have been the very one in which William Wood was used to perform, before he went “into Barnysdale,” that is, ran away from service.

Footnote 83:

The [d]oo in the last line is not quite certain. I am not sure that the parts are always rightly assigned in the third dialogue.

Footnote 84:

Norray should be Nornee, or Norny, the name of a court fool. He is mentioned in James IV’s Treasurer’s Accounts, 1503–12. See Laing’s Dunbar, II, 307 f. Allan Bell being sly at shot, it is probable that Allan is miswritten in the MS. for Adam.

Footnote 85:

The gap at 30^2 occurs between two pages, and is peculiarly regrettable. The former reading of “Robyns men” in 30^1 made matters much worse, since there was no way of accounting for the appearance of his men at this point. We must suppose that some one of Robin’s many friends carries the news of his capture to his band, and not simply that; with this there must have come information that their leader was to be held to await knowledge of the king’s pleasure, otherwise delay would be dangerous, and summary measures for his deliverance be required.

Footnote 86:

The porter or warden, in such cases, may commonly look to have his neck wrung, to be thrown over the wall, into a well, etc.: compare Adam Bell, st. 65; Jock o the Side, sts 13, 14; the Tale of Gamelyn, Skeat, v. 303–05; Fulk Fitz Warine, Wright, pp 44, 82 f; King Horn. ed. Wissmann, vv 1097–99; Romance de don Gaiferos, F. Wolf, Ueber eine Sammlung spanischer Romanzen, p. 76, Wolf y Hofmann, Primavera, II, 148, No 174; etc.

Footnote 87:

En le temps de Averyl e May, quant les prees e les herbes reverdissent, et chescune chose vivaunte recovre vertue, beaute e force, les mountz e les valeys retentissent des douce chauntz des oseylouns, e les cuers de chescune gent, pur la beaute du temps e la sesone, mountent en haut e s’enjolyvent, etc.: Wright, Warton Club, 1855, p. 1; Stevenson, Radulphi de Coggeshall Chronicon Anglicanum, etc., p. 277.

Footnote 88:

Already cited at p. 41. Bower wrote 1441–47, and died 1449: Skene, Johannis de Fordun Chronica, pp xv, xli.

Footnote 89:

Par cest exemple bien veons Que li dous Deux en qui creons Ame et chierist et honneure Celui qui volentiers demeure Pour oïr messe en sainte eglise, etc.

‘Du chevalier qui ooit la messe, et Notre-Dame estoit pour lui au tournoiement,’ Barbazan et Méon, Fabliaux, 1808, I, 86.

Footnote 90:

These resemblances are noted by Fricke, Die Robin Hood Balladen, a dissertation, reprinted in Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen (vol. 69), in which the relations of the ballads in question are discussed with sagacity and vigilance.

Footnote 91:

“You shall never hear more of me” might mean something stronger, but it is unlikely that Will is so touchy as to throw up fealty for a testy word from a sick man. A stanza or more seems to be lost here. Arthur is equally hasty with Gawain. He makes his vow to be the bane of Cornwall King. It is an unadvised vow, says Gawain.

And then bespake him noble Arthur, And these were the words said he: Why, if thou be afraid, Sir Gawaine the gay, Goe home, and drink wine in thine own country.

I, 285, sts 33–35.

Footnote 92:

John is again his sole companion when Robin goes in search of Guy of Gisborne. The yeoman in stanza 3 should be Red Roger; but a suspicion has more than once come over me that the beginning of this ballad has been affected by some version of Guy of Gisborne.

Footnote 93:

I can make nothing of “give me mood,” in 23^{1,2}. ‘Give me God’ or ‘Give me my God,’ seems too bold a suggestion: at any rate I have no example of God used simply for housel.

Footnote 94:

A few verses are wanting at the end. The “met-yard” of the last line is one of the last things we should think Robin would care for.

Footnote 95:

It seemed to me at one time that there was a direction to shoot an arrow to determine the place of a grave also in No 16, #A# 3, #I#, 185.

Now when that ye hear me gie a loud cry, Shoot frae thy bow an arrow, and there let me lye.

But upon considering the corresponding passage in 16 #B#, #C#, and in 15 #B#, the idea seems rather to be, that the arrow is to leave the bow at the moment when the soul shoots from the body.

Footnote 96:

Ralston, Songs of the Russian People, p. 46, who cites #B# 17, 18. Mr Ralston observes that most of the so-styled Robber Songs of the Russians are reminiscences of the revolt of the Don Cossacks against Tsar Alexis Mikhailovich. Stenka Razín, the chief of the insurgents, after setting for several years the forces of the Tsar at defiance, was put to a cruel death in 1672: p. 45, as above.

Footnote 97:

The personage may have been varied in the broadside ballads to catch the pence of tanners, tinkers, and the rest; or possibly some member of the respective fraternities might do this for the glory of his craft. A parallel case seems to be afforded by the well-known German ballad, ‘Der Zimmergesell und die junge Markgräfin,’ which is also sung of a journeyman shoemaker, tailor, locksmith, etc.; as remarked by A. Grün, Robin Hood, Ein Balladenkranz, p. 47 f.

Footnote 98:

Fricke, Die Robin-Hood-Balladen, p. 20 f, suggests a ballad of Robin Hood and the Sheriff (How Robin took revenge for the sheriff’s setting a price on his head), which may have been blended with another, of the Rescue of a Knight, to form the sixth fit of The Gest; and points to st. 329 of the Gest, ‘Robyn Hode walked in the forest,’ etc., as the probable beginning of such a ballad.

Footnote 99:

#b# would have taken precedence of #a#, having been printed earlier (1607–41), but I am at liberty only to collate Pepys copies. The Wood copies of Robin Hood ballads are generally preferable to the Pepys.

Footnote 100:

“A wet weary man,” #A# 7^1, should probably be “wel weary.” Why should R. H. be wet? And if wet, he may as well be a little wetter.

Footnote 101:

Like terms are assured the cook by John in the Gest, sts 170, 171, and offered the Tanner by Robin Hood, R. H. and the Tanner, st. 26. Cf. Adam Bell, sts 163–65.

The ‘Life’ in the Sloane MS., which is put not much before 1600, says: He procurd the Pynner of Wakefeyld to become one of his company, and a freyr called Muchel; though some say he was an other kynd of religious man, for that the order of freyrs was not yet sprung up.

Footnote 102:

Curtilarius (Old English curtiler) qui curtile curat aut incolit: Ducange.

Footnote 103:

I suppose that it must already have been pointed out that the story of King Ramiro, versified by Southey from the Portuguese, Poetical Works, 1838, VI, 122, is a variety of that of Solomon. There are curious points of resemblance between ‘R. H. rescuing Three Squires’ and the conclusion of the story of Solomon.

Footnote 104:

Dodsley’s Old Plays, 4th ed., by W. C. Hazlitt, VIII, 195, 232.

Footnote 105:

A very serious offence: see E. Peacock, Hales and Furnivall, Percy Folio Manuscript, I, lxii, note to p. 34.

Footnote 106:

Further on, Brathwayte alludes to a difference between Robin Hood and the Shoemaker of Bradford, which had been treated of by stage-poets. This refers to the fight that Robin Hood and George a Green have with the shoemakers, in chap. xii of the History (Thoms, p. 52 f), which is introduced into Robert Greene’s play (Dyce, p. 199 f), but only George does the fighting there. It is mere carelessness when Munday, ‘Downfall,’ etc., applies the name of George a Greene to the Shoemaker of Bradford (Hazlitt, as above, p. 151). In the same play and the same scene he makes Scathlock and Scarlet two persons.

Footnote 107:

Robin Hood Newly Revived (which, by the way, is in the same bad style as Robin Hood and Little John) is directed to be sung ‘to a delightful new Tune.’ The tune, as is seen from the burden, was that of Arthur a Bland, etc., called in Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon (the Second Part of Robin Hood Newly Revived) Robin Hood, or Hey down, down a down. The earliest printed copy of the air is preserved in the ballad-opera of The Jovial Crew, 1731 (Rimbault, in Gutch’s Robin Hood, II, 433, Chappell’s Popular Music, p. 391), and the song which is there sung to it has middle rhyme in the first line as well as the third, which is the case with no Robin Hood ballad except Robin Hood and the Peddlers.

Robin Hood and Maid Marian, which has the middle rhyme in the third line, is directed to be sung to Robin Hood Revived. Robin Hood and the Scotchman, as already said, has middle rhyme in the third line; so have The King’s Disguise, etc., R. H. and the Golden Arrow, R. H. and the Valiant Knight; but the tune assigned to the last is Robin Hood and the Fifteen Foresters, that is, Robin Hood’s Progress to Nottingham.

It ought to be added that Robin Hood Newly Revived is found in the Garland of 1663, in company with R. H. and the Bishop, R. H. and the Butcher, etc., and that Robin Hood and Little John is not there; but I do not consider this circumstance sufficient to offset the probability in favor of the supposition, that by Robin Hood and the Stranger is meant Robin Hood and Little John.

Footnote 108:

Fourteen foot, as proved by his bones, preserved, according to Hector Boece, in the kirk of Pette, in Murrayland. See Ritson’s Robin Hood, 1832, I, cxxxii f; and Gutch, II, 112, note *.

Footnote 109:

The Bold Pedlar and Robin Hood, No 132, is a traditional variation of Robin Hood Revived.

Footnote 110:

Though Mr W. C. Hazlitt, in his Handbook to the Popular, Poetical, and Dramatic Literature of Great Britain, p. 514, No 25, has: “Robin Hood and the Stranger. In two parts. [Col.] London: printed by and for W. O., and to be sold at the booksellers. Roxb. and Wood Colls.” This colophon belongs only to Robin Hood, Will Scadlock, and Little John, otherwise Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon, which see. The title Robin Hood and the Stranger is adopted from Ritson.

Footnote 111:

‘Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon,’ in Thackeray’s list, Ballad Society, I, xxiv, and in the late Garlands, 1749, etc.

Footnote 112:

Remarked by Fricke, p. 88 f.

Footnote 113:

Mr E. Maunde Thompson, Keeper of the Manuscripts in the British Museum, in an obliging letter to Harvard College Library, and in The Academy, 1885, March 7, p. 170. No 8 C of this collection is in this manuscript.

Footnote 114:

A verse in the passage from Drayton’s Polyolbion, Song xxvi, cited by Ritson, I, viii of Robin Hood, 1795, may refer to this version of the ballad: “The widow in distress he graciously relievd.”

Footnote 115:

In st. 2 Robin is in his proper Lincoln green. He wears scarlet red again in No. 141, st. 6 and in No 145, st. 18, his men being in green.

Footnote 116:

Fricke has observed this, pp 59, 69, and at p. 58 the resemblance to Wallace.

Footnote 117:

Even the author of #A# seems not to be aware that Much, the Miller’s Son, is the standing name of one of Robin Hood’s men, and therefore would not answer for a disguise. In #B#, #C#, nothing is expressly said about the change of names, and in fact this arrangement seems not to be understood, since in #B# 21^1 Clifton is spoken of as one Clifton. Comparing #B# 33, 34, 37, we see that Clifton should be Little John, but Midge, the Miller’s Son, himself, not Scathlock, still less John.

Footnote 118:

Also says Ritson, Robin Hood, II, 97, by Francis Coule, 13th June, 1631; but the ballad there entered is The Noble Fisherman.

Footnote 119:

Robin Hood, ed. 1832, p. xxxvi, note, p. lxxxvii.

Footnote 120:

The mutilated parts are supplied, to a slight extent, from a copy in the Bodleian Library (L. 78. Art., 5th tract), which happens to be injured on the right side of the title-page in nearly the same places as the Museum copy, and also has the lower portion cut off, to the loss of the printer’s name; the rest from an edition printed for J. Clark, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger, 1686. Mr J. P. Collier possessed a copy with the same imprint as that of the Museum, which he lent Gutch, and which Gutch says he used for his text. If Gutch followed the Collier copy, then that was not identical with the Museum copy. Ritson reprinted the text of 1686.

Footnote 121:

“Now, under this precise gentleman’s favor, one would be glad to know what these same superstitious words were; there not being anything of the kind in Dr Gale’s copy, which seems to be the original, and which is shorter by two lines than the above. Thirteen should be thirty.” Ritson, Robin Hood, ed. 1832, II, 127 f. For the epitaph and the gravestone, see the same volume, pp. liv-lvii.

Footnote 122:

Percy: “As for Mirryland Town, it is probably a corruption of Milan (called by the Dutch Meylandt) town; the Pa is evidently the river Po, although the Adige, not the Po, runs through Milan.” #B#, 1 is unintelligible. Do the lads run down the Pa?

Footnote 123:

In #J#, 4, he will be beaten for losing his ball. In the Irish #F#, 8, the mother takes a little rod in her hand, meaning to bate him for staying so long: cf. #J# 10, #N# 4, 12,and the last verse of T. Hood’s ‘Lost Heir.’

Footnote 124:

Dem Volke war die Glocke nicht herzlos; sie war ihm eine beseelte Persönlichkeit, und stand als solche mit dem Menschen in lebendigem Verkehr.... Die Glocken ... scheinen auch von höheren Mächten berührt zu werden; sie sprechen wie Gottesstimmen, ertönen oft von selbst, als Mahnung von oben, als Botschaft vom Tode bedeutender Personen, als Wahrzeichen der Unschuld eines Angeklagten, zur Bewährung der Heiligkeit eines von Gott erwählten Rüstzeugs. Uhland, Schriften zur Geschichte der Dichtung u. Sage, VIII, 588 f.

Footnote 125:

Annales Monastici, ed. Luard, II, 346 ff. “From 1219 to 1266 the MS. was written contemporaneously with the events described, from year to year:” p. xxxvi.

Footnote 126:

Chronica Majora, ed. Luard, V, 516–19. Matthew Paris died in 1259.

Footnote 127:

Seventy-one were thus reserved, but escaped, by the use of money or by the intercession of the Franciscans, or both. See the same volume, p. 546; but also the account which follows, from the Annals of Burton.

Footnote 128:

Annales de Burton, in Annales Monastici, Luard, I, 340–48. Hugh of Lincoln is commemorated in the Acta Sanctorum, July (27), VI, 494.

Footnote 129:

Michel, Hugues de Lincoln, etc., from a MS. in the “Bibliothèque royale, No 7268, 3. 3. A. Colb. 3745, fol. 135, rº, col. 1.” Reprinted by Halliwell, Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln, p. 1, and from Halliwell by Hume, Sir Hugh of Lincoln, etc., p. 43 ff. In stanzas 13, 75, there is an invocation in behalf of King Henry (Qui Deu gard et tenge sa vie!), which implies that he is living. The ballad shows an acquaintance with the localities.

Footnote 130:

“A la gule de aust.” The day, according to the Annals of Burton, was the vigil of St Peter ad vincula. We find in Henschel’s Ducange, “ad festum S. Petri, in gula Augusti,” and “le jour de feste S. Pere, en goule Aoust.” Strictly taken, goule should be the first day, Lammas.

Peitevin was actually resident in Lincoln at the time. “He was called Peitevin the Great, to distinguish him from another person who bore the appellation of Peitevin the Little. The Royal Commission issued in 1256 directs an inquisition to be taken of the names of all those who belonged to the school of Peytevin Magnus, who had fled on account of his implication in the crucifixion of a Christian boy.” London Athenæum, 1849, p. 1270 f.

Footnote 131:

The site of the Jewry was on the hill and about the castle: London Athenæum, 1849, p. 1271.

Footnote 132:

These renegades play a like part in many similar cases.

Footnote 133:

Les Jus, 82^1; but this is impossible, and we have li justis in 91^1.

Footnote 134:

“Canwick is pleasantly situated on a bold eminence, about a mile northward of Lincoln.” Allen, History of the County of Lincoln, I, 208.

Footnote 135:

I do not find this story in the Basel edition of c. 1475.

Footnote 136:

A case cited by Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum, 2^r Theil, p. 220, from Socrates, Ecclesiastical History, l. vii, 16, differs from later ones by being a simple extravagance of drunkenness. Some Jews in Syria, “A. D. 419,” who were making merry after their fashion, and indulging in a good deal of tomfoolery, began, as they felt the influence of wine, to jeer at Christ and Christians; from which they proceeded to the seizing of a Christian boy and tying him to a cross. At first they were contented to make game of him, but, growing crazy with drink, they fell to beating him, and even beat him to death; for which they were properly punished.

Footnote 137:

See the ballads ‘Vom Judenmord zu Deggendorf,’ 1337, ‘Von den Juden zu Passau,’ 1478, in Liliencron, I, 45, No 12, II, 142, No 153.

Footnote 138:

Nothing could be more just than these words of Percy: “If we consider, on the one hand, the ignorance and superstition of the times when such stories took their rise, the virulent prejudices of the monks who record them, and the eagerness with which they would be catched up by the barbarous populace as a pretence for plunder; on the other hand, the great danger incurred by the perpetrators, and the inadequate motives they could have to excite them to a crime of so much horror, we may reasonably conclude the whole charge to be groundless and malicious.” Reliques, 1795, I, 32.

Footnote 139:

Read the indictment against Christians filed by Zunz, Die synagogale Poesie des Mittelalters, pp 19–58, covering the time from the eleventh century to the middle of the sixteenth. It is regrettable that Zunz has not generally cited his authorities. See also Stobbe, Die Juden in Deutschland, p. 183 ff., and notes, p. 280 ff., where the authorities are given.

Footnote 140:

In vol. viii, pp 225, 344, 476, 598, 730, vol. ix, 107, 219, 353, 472, 605, the confessions of the defendants are given from the original minutes of the trial; and it fully appears from these confessions that blood is requisite for a proper performance of the Paschal ceremonies, and also that the blood must be got from a boy, and from a boy while he is undergoing torment. Only it is to be remembered that the inducements to these confessions were the same as those which led the Jews of Passau to acknowledge that blood exuded from the Host when it was stabbed, and that when two bits of the wafer were thrown into an oven two doves flew out: Train, as above, p. 116, note 57.

Footnote 141:

For other pictures of these martyrdoms, see the Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493, fol. ccliiii, vº, for Simon of Trent; Lacroix, Mœurs, Usages, etc., 1875, p. 473, for Richard of Pontoise, p. 475, for Simon, repeated from the N. Chron.; that of Munich, 1285, and the children of Ratisbon, reproduced in Cosmos, March 30, 1885 (according to Drumont, II, 418, note). See also Michel, Hugues de Lincoln, p. 54, note 41.

Footnote 142:

The extraordinary occurrence in Damascus in the same year, 1840, which excited the indignation, sympathy, and active interposition of nearly all the civilized world, requires but the briefest allusion. A capuchin friar was in this instance the victim immolated, and for blood to mix with the Paschal bread. The most frightful torture was used, under the direction of the Turkish pacha, assisted by the French consul, under which three unhappy men succumbed. See Illgen’s detailed account of this persecution in the periodical and article above cited, pp. 153 ff. Drumont is of the same mind as he would have been four or five hundred years ago: “les faits étaient prouvés, démontrés, indiscutables” (La France Juive, II, 411).

Footnote 143:

The threat implied in #E# 3^4 has no motive; and the phrase “haly spark” in 5^4 is an unadvised anticipation.

Footnote 144:

Found also in the ballad, A Warning-Piece to England against Pride and Wickedness: Being the Fall of Queen Eleanor, Wife to Edward the First, King of England, who, for her Pride, by God’s Judgments, sunk into the Ground at Charing-Cross and rose at Queen-Hithe. A Collection of Old Ballads, I, 97.

Footnote 145:

There attributed to Jacques de Vitry, but not found in his Exempla. Professor Crane informs me that, though the Scala Celi cites Jacques de Vitry sixty-two times, only fourteen of such exempla occur among J. de V.’s.

Footnote 146:

The story does not occur in Doni’s Marmi, iii, 27, as has been said. What is there found is somewhat after the fashion of ‘The Baffled Knight,’ No 112.

Footnote 147:

Cunningham, in his loose way, talks of several fragments which he had endeavored to combine, but can spare room for only one couplet:

Though lame of a leg and blind of an ee, You’re as like William Wallace as ever I did see.

But this is the William of ‘The Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter,’ No 110.

Footnote 148:

#A# 15, #B# 12, #D# 12, are somewhat corrupted. In #F# 14 Wallace says he never had a better bode. In #E# 10 Wallace’s reply is, Pay down, for if your answer be not good you shall have the downfall of Robin Hood; and in #G# 30, Tell down, and ye shall see William Wallace with the downcome of Robin Hood; that is, I suppose, you shall be knocked down as if by Robin Hood.

Footnote 149:

Post enim conflictum de Roslyn, Wallace, ascensa navi, Franciam petit, ubi quanta probitate refulsit, tam super mare a piratis quam in Francia ab Anglis perpessus est discrimina, et viriliter se habuit, nonnulla carmina, tam in ipsa Francia quam Scotia, attestantur. Scotichronicon, Goodall, II, 176, note.

Footnote 150:

“Thou hadst twenty ships hither, thou’st have twenty away,” #B# 37. It would be more in the ballad-way were the second twenty doubled.

Footnote 151:

In the London Athenæum, about twenty-five years ago, there was (I think) a story of an Englishman in Russia resembling Hugh Spencer’s. I have wrongly noted the number as 1871, and have not recovered the story after much rummaging. This ballad is not very unlike Russian bylinas.

Footnote 152:

Presbyteri, fratres et clerici, sutores et mechanici, Bower; agricolæ ac pastores, et capellani imbecilles et decrepiti, Knyghton; miseri monachi, improbi presbyteri, porcorum pastores, sutores et pelliparii, Chronicon de Lanercost; clericos et pastores, Walsingham, Hist. Angl.

Footnote 153:

It is very doubtful whether there was an Earl of Buchan in 1346. Henry de Beaumont, according to the peerages, died in 1341. He was an Englishman, had fought against the Scots at Duplin, 1332, and was after that in the service of Edward III.

Footnote 154:

‘Famous,’ the MS. reading in 14^1, may probably be an error for James, which occurs so often in 28–33. William Douglas, the Knight of Liddesdale, had a brother James, but this James had been killed in 1335. He had also a brother John, Scotichronicon and Chronicon de Lanercoste, and the latter, as has been mentioned, puts John in Murray’s division. Knyghton, col. 2590, gives as among the prisoners dominus Willielmus Duglas et frater ejusdem Willielmi.

Footnote 155:

When William Douglas, in the Chronicle of Lanercost, tells the king that the English are at hand, and David replies, there is nothing in England but monks, priests, swineherds, etc., Douglas says, ‘aliter invenietis; sunt varii validi viri.’

Footnote 156:

Froissart says that the English force was in four battalions: the first commanded by the Bishop of Durham and Lord Percy; the second by the Archbishop of York and Lord Neville; the third by the Bishop of Lincoln and Lord Mowbray; the fourth by Edward Balliol and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Footnote 157:

Crécy, 26 August, 1346; Durham, 17 October, 1346; Poitiers, 19 September, 1356.

Footnote 158:

“Froissart describes a Scottish host of the same period as consisting of ‘.iiii. M. of armes, knightis and squiers, mounted on good horses, and other .x. M. men of warre, armed after their gyse, right hardy and firse, mounted on lytle hackeneys, the whiche were never tyed nor kept at hard meate, but lette go to pasture in the feldis and busshes.’” Happily cited by Scott, in illustration of #C# 16: Lord Berners’ translation, cap. xvii, Pynson, 1523, fol. viii.

Footnote 159:

A consolation as old as wise. So Paris, for himself: νίκη δ’ ἐπαμείβεται ἄνδρας, Iliad, vi, 339.

Footnote 160:

Buchanan has these numbers, with the exception of 1840, for 1860, killed: ed. 1582, fol. 101. “That there was a memorable slaughter in this affair, a slaughter far beyond the usual proportion to the numbers engaged, cannot be doubted; nor was there ever bloodshed more useless for the practical ends of war. It all came of the capture of the Percy’s pennon. The Scots might have got clear off with all their booty; the English forgot all the precautions of war when they made a midnight rush on a fortified camp without knowledge of the ground or the arrangements of their enemy. It was for these specialties that Froissart admired it so. He saw in it a fight for fighting’s sake, a great passage at arms in which no bow was drawn, but each man fought hand to hand; in fact, about the greatest and bloodiest tournament he had to record. Hence his narrative is ever interrupted with bursts of admiration as his fancy contemplates the delightful scene raised before it.” Burton, History of Scotland, II, 364, ed. 1873 (who, perhaps by an error of the press, makes the losses of the English in killed eight hundred and forty, in place of Buchanan’s eighteen hundred and forty).

Footnote 161:

Bower and Barry say St Oswald’s day, Wednesday, the 5th, Scotichronicon, II, 405, 407; Knyghton also; the continuator of Higden’s Polychronicon, August 12, Wednesday. The ballad, #A# 18^4, gives the day as Wednesday. There was a full moon August 20, which makes the 19th of itself far more probable, and Froissart says the moon was shining. See White, Battle of Otterburn, p. 133.

Footnote 162:

Walsingham writes in the vein of Froissart: “Erat ibidem cernere pulchrum spectaculum, duos tam præclaros juvenes manus conserere et pro gloria decertare.” Walsingham says that the English were few. Malverne puts the Scots at 30,000, and here, as in the ballad #A# 35, the cronykle does not layne (indeed, the ballad is all but accurate), if the main body of the Scots be included, which was at first supposed to be supporting Douglas.

Footnote 163:

‘The perssee and the mongumrye met, that day, that day, that gentil day,’ which I suppose to be either a different reading from any that has come down, or a blending of a line from Otterburn with one from The Hunting of the Cheviot, #A# 24^1; indicating in either case the present ballad only, for The Hunttis of Cheuet had been cited before. Furnivall holds that the second line means another ballad: Captain Cox, p. clix.

Footnote 164:

The History of the Houses of Douglas and Angus, 1644, p. 104.

Footnote 165:

For Motherwell’s views, see his Minstrelsy, li, lii, and lxxi, note 30.

Footnote 166:

#B# 20. Ingen iomfru maa ieg loffue, huerchen lønlig eller aaben-bahre; det haffuer ieg iomfru Maria loffuet hindis tienere skall ieg verre.

Footnote 167:

The burden is ‘O kiennicheinn Maria’ in the first, ‘Hilf Maria’ in the second; in both George declines the king’s daughter, and orders a church to be built ‘mit Mariabeild,’ or to himself and Mary. This, and perhaps the hint for St George’s addiction to Mary altogether, is from the Golden Legend, where the king “in honorem beatæ Mariæ et beati Georgii ecclesiam miræ magnitudinis construxit”: Grässe, p. 261.

Footnote 168:

Following in part Buchanan, who, however, says nothing of Melrose, or of the prophecy, which is the point here. Illa vero a vobis postrema peto: primum, vt mortem meam et nostros et hostes cœletis; deinde, ne vexillum meum dejectum sinatis; demum, vt meam cædem vlciscamini. Hæc si sperem ita fore, cætera æquo animo feram. Fol. 101, ed. 1582.

Footnote 169:

I have not resorted to the MS. in this case, for the reason that I could not expect to get a transcript which would merit the confidence which must attach to one made by the hand of Professor Skeat.

Footnote 170:

British Bibliographer, IV, 99 f; Wright, Songs and Ballads, p. viii; etc.

Footnote 171:

The grammatical forms of the Hunting of the Cheviot are, however, older than those of the particular copy of Otterburn which has been preserved. The plural of the noun is very often in -ës or -ys, as lordës, 23^1; longës, 37^1; handdës, 60^1; sydis, 8^2; bowys, 13^2, 25^1, 29^1, etc., at least sixteen cases. We find, also, sydë at 6^2, and possibly should read fayllë at 9^3. The plural in -ës is rare in The Battle of Otterburn: starrës, 45^4; swordës, 54^2; Skottës, 59^1, 62^1. Probably we are to read swordës length in 55^3.

Footnote 172:

See the passage in the Memoirs of Carey, Earl of Monmouth, referred to in Percy’s Reliques, 1765, I, 235, and given at length in Hales and Furnivall, II, 3 f.

Footnote 173:

The minstrel was not too nice as to topography either: Otterburn is not in Cheviot.

Footnote 174:

Tytler, History of Scotland, III, 293, though citing only the Scotichronicon, says Sir Robert Ogle, and also Scott, I, 270; for reasons which do not appear.

Footnote 175:

An Apologie for Poetrie, p. 46 of Arber’s reprint of the first edition, 1595. For the date of the writing, 1581–85, see Arber, p. 7 f.

Footnote 176:

The courtly poet deserves much of ballad-lovers for avowing his barbarousness (one doubts whether he seriously believed that the gorgeous Pindar could have improved upon the ballad), but what would he not have deserved if he had written the blind crowder’s song down!

Footnote 177:

Popular Music, I, 198. Chevy Chase is entered in the Stationers’ Registers, among a large parcel of ballads, in 1624, and clearly was no novelty: Arber, IV, 131. “Had it been printed even so early as Queen Elizabeth’s reign,” says Percy, “I think I should have met with some copy wherein the first line would have been, God prosper long our noble queen.” “That it could not be much later than that time appears from the phrase doleful dumps, which in that age carried no ill sound with it, but to the next generation became ridiculous. We have seen it pass uncensured in a sonnet that was at that time in request, and where it could not fail to have been taken notice of had it been in the least exceptionable; see above, Book ii, song v, ver. 2 [by Richard Edwards, 1596?]. Yet, in about half a century after, it was become burlesque. Vide Hudibras, Pt. I, c. 3, v. 95.” Reliques, 1794, I, 268, note, 269.

The copy in the Percy MS., #B a#, though carelessly made, retains, where the broadsides do not, two of the readings of #A#: bade on the bent, 28^2; to the hard head haled he, 45^4.

Footnote 178:

Addison was not behind any of us in his regard for traditional songs and tales. No 70 begins: “When I travelled, I took a particular delight in hearing the songs and fables that are come from father to son and are most in vogue among the common people of the countries through which I passed; for it is impossible that anything should be universally tasted and approved by a multitude, tho they are only the rabble of a nation, which hath not in it some peculiar aptness to please and gratify the mind of man. Human nature is the same in all reasonable creatures, and whatever falls in with it will meet with admirers amongst readers of all qualities and conditions.”

Footnote 179:

A Description of the Parish of Melrose [by the Revd. Adam Milne], Edinburgh, 1743, p. 21. Scott cites the epitaph, with some slight variations (as “English louns”), Appendix to The Eve of St. John, Minstrelsy, IV, 199, ed. 1833. The monument was “all broken in pieces” in Milne’s time; seems to have been renewed and again broken up (The Scotsman, November 12, 1873); but, judging from Murray’s Handbook of Scotland, has again been restored.

Squire Meldrum’s valor was inferior to nobody’s, but as his fortune was happier than Witherington’s and Lilliard’s, a note may suffice for him. “Quhen his schankis wer schorne in sunder, vpon his knees he wrocht greit wounder:” Lindsay, ed. 1594, Cv. recto, v. 30 f, Hall, p. 358, v. 1349 f. But really he was only “hackit on his hochis and theis,” or as Pittscottie says, Dalyell, p. 306, “his hochis war cutted and the knoppis of his elbowis war strikin aff,” and by and by he is “haill and sound” again, according to the poet, and according to the chronicler he “leived fyftie yeires thairefter.”

Footnote 180:

As stanch as some of these was a Highlander at the battle of Gasklune, 1392, who, though nailed to the ground by a horseman’s spear, held fast to his sword, writhed himself up, and with a last stroke cut his foeman above the foot to the bone, “through sterap-lethire and the bute, thre ply or foure”: Wyntoun’s Chronicle, B. ix, ch. 14, Laing, III, 59.

Footnote 181:

Legally just: Maidment, Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and Traditionary, I, 349 ff.

Footnote 182:

And afterwards, 1748, by Robert Foulis, Glasgow: “Two old Historical Scots Poems, giving an account of the Battles of Harlaw and the Reid-Squair.”

Footnote 183:

Ane Catalogue of the Books, Manuscripts and Pamphlets Belonging to Robert Mylne, Wryter in Ed[r .], 1709: Advocates Library. Mr Macmath, who has come to my aid here, writes: “So far as I can make out, this catalogue contains no MSS. It is in two divisions: 1st, Printed Books; 2d, Pamphlets. The following is in the second division, and I understand the reference to be, year of publication, volume, or bundle of pamphlets, number of piece in bundle or volume:

“Harlaw The Battle yrof An: 1411 ... 1668, 79, 5.”

Mylne died in 1747, at the age, it is said, of 103 or 105: [Maidment], A Book of Scotish Pasquils, p. 423.

Footnote 184:

He talks like a canny packman:

I wist nocht quha was fae or freind; Yet quietly I did me carrie, . . . . . . . And thair I had nae tyme to tairie, For bissiness in Aberdene.

Footnote 185:

So with The Battle of Balrinnes and The Haughs of Cromdale. The first line of The Battle of Balrinnes is, ‘Betuixt Dunother and Aberdein.’

Footnote 186:

Not only were these long and affectionately remembered, but their heirs were exempted from certain feudal taxes, because the defeat of the Celts was regarded as a national deliverance: Burton’s History, II, 394.

Footnote 187:

A macaronic ascribed to Drummond of Hawthornden.

Interea ante alios dux piperlarius heros Præcedens, magnamque gestans cum burdine pipam, Incipit Harlai cunctis sonare Batellum.

(Poems, Maitland Club, p. 413, after the first dated edition of 1684.)

Footnote 188:

3^2. Away and away and away, #e#, #f#, #i#, #k#. 12^1. The first that fired it was the French, #f#, #g#, #h#. 12^4. were forced to flee, #f#, #i#, #m# (first to flee, #e#). 14^3. in all French land, #e#, #f#, #g#, (in our) #h#, #m#. Etc.

Footnote 189:

English balls again in #m#, tennis-balls in #i#, #k#.

Footnote 190:

Whose work was printed in 1850, ed. Benjamin Williams. I am for the most part using Sir Harris Nicolas’s excellent History of the Battle of Agincourt, 2d ed., 1832, here; see pp. 8–13, 301 f.

Footnote 191:

Nicolas, p. 302 f, slightly corrected; much the same in another copy of the poem, ib., Appendix, p. 69 #f.# The jest in Henry’s reply is carried out in detail when he comes to Harfleur, ib., pp. 308–310.

Footnote 192:

Nicolas, p. 10, as corrected by Hales and Furnivall, II, 161, and in one word emended by me. By several of the above writers the Dauphin Louis is called Charles, through confusion with his father or his younger brother.

Footnote 193:

The gifts are a whip (σκῦτος), a ball, and a casket of gold. In Julius Valerius’s version, Müller, as above, σκῦτος is rendered habena, whip or reins; in Leo’s Historia de Preliis, ed. Landgraf, p. 54, we have virga for habena; in Lamprecht’s Alexander, Weismann, I, 74, 1296–1301, the habena is a pair of shoe-strings. The French romance, Michelant, p. 52, 25 ff, to make sure, gives us both rod (verge) and reins; the English Alexander, Weber, I, 75, 1726–28, has a top, a scourge, and a small purse of gold. Weber has noticed the similarity of the stories, Romances, III, 299, and he remarks that in ‘The Famous Victories of Henry Fifth’ a carpet is sent with the tun of tennis-balls, to intimate that the prince is fitter for carpet than camp.

Footnote 194:

Cheshire, Lancashire, and the Earl of Derby are made to carry off the honors in ballad-histories of Bosworth and Flodden: see the appendix to No 168. Perhaps the hand of some minstrel of the same clan as the author or authors of those eulogies may be seen in this passage.

Footnote 195:

Henry of Monmouth, or Memoirs of the Life and Character of Henry the Fifth, II, 121, 197. Jewitt, Derbyshire Ballads, p. 2, says that there is a tradition in the Peak of Derby that Henry V would take no married man or widow’s son, when recruiting for Agincourt; but he goes on to say that the ballad is not unfrequently sung by the hardy sons of the Peak, which adequately accounts for the tradition.

Footnote 196:

Cf. #g# 6 and ‘Lord Bateman,’ 14, II, 508.

Footnote 197:

Vol. cxiii, fol. 14, Bodleian Library: cited (p. 303 f.) in Beamont’s Annals of the Lords of Warrington, Chetham Society, 1872, where may be found the fullest investigation yet attempted of this obscure matter. I have freely and thankfully used chapters 17–19 of that highly interesting work.

Footnote 198:

For Lord Grey’s making the suit void, and his lady’s resolution to be buried near Sir John, see Beamont, p. 319 f, pp. 297–99.

Footnote 199:

Beamont, p. 304.

Footnote 200:

Pennant, in the second half of the last century, heard that both Sir Thomas and his lady were murdered in his house by assassins, who, in the night, crossed the moat in leathern boats. Again, Sir Peter Legh, simply, was said to have slain Sir Thomas Butler. Sir Thomas died quietly in his bed, and Sir Peter, who had turned priest, administered ghostly consolations to him not long before his decease.

Footnote 201:

See Beamont, p. 308; and also p. 296 for another hypothesis.

Footnote 202:

Beamont, pp. 259, 321.

Footnote 203:

These are duly interpreted in Hales and Furnivall.

Footnote 204:

Lord Strange’s hair-breadth escape is, however, perhaps apocryphal: see Croston, County Families of Lancashire and Cheshire, 1887, p. 25 f.

Footnote 205:

#B# begins vilely, but does not go on so ill. The forty merchants coming ‘with fifty sail’ to King Henry on a mountain top, 3^{1,2}, requires to be taken indulgently.

Footnote 206:

“God’s curse on his hartt,’ saide William, ‘Thys day thy cote dyd on; If it had ben no better then myne, It had gone nere thy bone.’

(Vol. iii, 23, st. 27.)

Footnote 207:

An approach to sense may be had by reading ‘either in hach-bord or in hull,’ that is, by striking with his beam either the side or the body of the vessel; but I do not think so well of this change as to venture it.

Footnote 208:

The letters granted to the Bartons authorized them to seize all Portuguese ships till repaid 12,000 ducats of Portugal. Pinkerton, whose excellent account, everywhere justified by documents, I have been indebted to above, remarks: “The justice of letters of reprisal after an interval of thirty years may be much doubted. At any rate, one prize was sufficient for the injury, and the continuance of their captures, and the repeated demands of our kings, even so late as 1540, cannot be vindicated. Nay, these reprisals on Portugal were found so lucrative that, in 1543, Arran, the regent, gave similar letters to John Barton, grandson of the first John. In 1563 Mary formally revoked the letters of marque to the Bartons, because they had been abused into piracy.” Pinkerton’s History of Scotland, II, 60 f, 70.

Footnote 209:

Robert was skipper of the Great Michael, a ship two hundred and forty feet long, with sides ten feet thick, and said to be larger and stronger than any vessel in the navy of England or of France.

Footnote 210:

A mistake of Edmund for Edward and an anticipation. Sir Edward Howard was not made admiral till the next year. Edmund was his younger brother. Lesley has Edmund again; Stowe has Edward.

Footnote 211:

Britanus. “Breton, whom our chroniclers call Barton,” says Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Life of Henry VIII, 1649, p. 15.

Footnote 212:

Another anticipation. Sir Thomas Howard became admiral only after his brother Edward’s death, in 1513. The expedition of the Howards against Barton appears to have been a private one, though with the consent of the king.

Footnote 213:

The commissioners met, and “the wrongs done unto Scotland many ways, specially of the slaughter of Andrew Barton and taking of his ships, were conferred,” but the commissioners of England would not consent to make any redress or restitution till after a certain date when they expected to know the issue of their king’s invasion of France. Hereupon a herald was sent to King Henry in France, with a letter from King James, rehearsing the great wrongs and unkindnesses done to himself and his lieges, and among these the slaughter of Andrew Barton by Henry’s own command, though he had done no offence to him or his lieges; and no satisfaction being obtained, the herald, according to his instructions, “denounced war to the king of England,” August, 1513. (Lesley, pp. 87–91.)

Footnote 214:

#B# 63^3, “Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight.” Admiral Thomas Howard, for his good service at Flodden and elsewhere, was created Earl of Surrey in 1514. Bury is, one would suppose, a corruption of Surrey, and if so, Surrey may have been the reading of earlier copies, and perhaps Thomas again, instead of Charles.

Footnote 215:

By reading midwinter in #A# 17^3 this difficulty would be removed.

Footnote 216:

These beams, Henry Hunt intimates in 32, would be dangerous to boarders, which is conceivable should they chance to hit the right heads; but they are evidently meant to be dropped on the adversary’s vessel, and this by a process which is not distinctly described, and was, I fear, not perfectly grasped by the minstrel. The veriest landsman must think that a magazine of heavy timbers stowed in either castle (there is an upper and a lower in the pictures of Henry VII’s Great Harry and of Henry VIII’s Grace de Dieu, and the lower is well up the mast) would not be favorable to sailing; but this is a minor difficulty. Stones and fire-balls were sometimes thrown from the topcastle, which, properly, should be a stage at the very tip of the mast, as we find it in old prints: see Nicolas’s History of the Royal Navy, II, 170. Stones and iron bars thrown from the high decks of Spanish ships did much harm to the English in a fight in 1372: Froissart, Buchon, V, 276. An intelligible way of operating the ancient “dolphins,” heavy masses of metal dropped from the end of a yard, is suggested in Graser, De veterum re navali, 1864, p. 82 f.

Footnote 217:

A better, but defective, copy is in the second volume of Chetham Miscellanies, edited by Dr J. Robson, 1855.

Footnote 218:

Harleian MS. No 3526, date of about 1636; a printed copy of 1664, from which the poem was edited by Weber, Edinburgh, 1808; a printed copy of 1755–62, from a different source, excellently edited by Charles A. Federer, Manchester, 1884. See further this last, pp. 134–37.

Footnote 219:

Articles of the bataill betwix the Kinge of Scottes and the Erle of Surrey in Brankstone Feld, the 9 day of September: State Papers, vol. iv, King Henry the Eighth, Part iv, p. 2, 1836.

Footnote 220:

Hall’s Chronicle, p. 564.

Footnote 221:

Who are celebrated also in three other pieces, ‘Scottish Field,’ ‘Bosworth Field,’ and ‘Lady Bessie:’ Percy MS., Hales and Furnivall, I, 212, III, 235, 321.

Footnote 222:

“He never loved thee, for thy uncle [that is, Sir William Stanley] slew his father” [the Duke of Norfolk]; which, however, is not true.

Footnote 223:

Sir Ralph Egerton is made marshal in st. 91; but this Rowland is really Ralph over again. Ralph was knighted at Tournay, and was granted the manor of Ridley in February of the next year.

Footnote 224:

“Where they lay a long time, and left the town as they found it:” Hall, p. 861.

Footnote 225:

‘Where got thou these targits, Jony, That hings so low down by thy knee?’ ‘I got them, cukel king, in the field, Where thow and thy men durst not come see.’

Footnote 226:

This copy I have in MS. and have not noted, neither can I remember, how I came by it, but it is probably a transcript from recent print. It diverges from the ordinary text more than any that I have seen. After 17 comes this stanza (cf. ‘Robin Hood rescuing Three Squires,’ No 140, #B# 29):

They took the gallows frae the slack, An there they set it on a plain, An there they hanged Johnnie Armstrong, Wi fifty of his warlike men.

18–20, 23 are wanting. A “pretty little boy,” in what corresponds to 21, 22, says, ‘Johnnie Armstrong you’ll never see,’ and the lady ends the ballad with:

If that be true, my pretty little boy, Aye the news you tell to me, You’ll be the heir to a’my lands, You an your young son after thee.

Footnote 227:

A tract on the extreme western border, beginning between the mouths of the Sark and Esk and stretching north and east eight miles, with a greatest breadth of four miles. The particulars of the boundaries are given from an old roll in Nicolson and Burn’s Westmorland and Cumberland, I, xvi, and as follows by Mr T. J. Carlyle, The Debateable Land, Dumfries, 1868, p. 1: “bounded on the west by the Sark and Pingleburn, on the north by the Irvine burn, Tarras, and Reygill, on the east by the Mereburn, Liddal, and Esk, and on the south by the Solway Frith.” The land was parted between England and Scotland in 1552, with no great gain to good order for the half century succeeding.

Footnote 228:

It has been maintained that there was a Gilnockie tower on the eastern side of the Esk, a very little lower than the Hollows tower. “We can also inform our readers that Giltknock Hall was situate on a small rocky island on the river Esk below the Langholm, the remains of which are to be seen:” Crito in the Edinburgh Evening Courant, March 8, 1773. “Many vestiges of strongholds can be traced within the parish, although there is only one, near the new bridge already described, that makes an appearance at this point, its walls being yet entire:” Statistical Account of Canoby, Sinclair, XIV, 420.

Sir John Sinclair, 1795, says, in a note to this last passage, that the spot of ground at the east end of “the new bridge” is, “indeed, called to this day, Gill-knocky, but it does not exhibit the smallest vestige of mason-work.” Mr. T. J. Carlyle, The Debateable Land, p. 17, gives us to understand that the foundations of the tower were excavated and removed when the bridge was built; but this does not appear to be convincingly made out.

Footnote 229:

The History of Liddesdale, Eskdale, Ewesdale, Wauchopedale, and The Debateable Land, by Robert Bruce Armstrong, 1883, pp 177 f, 227 f, 245, 259 f; Appendix, pp. xxvi, xxxi.

Footnote 230:

The Cronicles of Scotland, etc., edited by J. G. Dalyell, 1814, II, 341 ff. (partially modernized, for more comfortable reading).

Footnote 231:

Wherein, if this be true, John differed much from Sym.

Footnote 232:

Rerum Scoticarum Historia, 1582, fol. 163 b, 164.

Footnote 233:

History of Scotland, Bannatyne Club, 1830, p. 143.

Footnote 234:

Anderson’s History, MS., Advocates Library, I, fol. 153 f. Anderson flourished about 1618–35. He gives the year both as 1527 and 1528. Cited by Armstrong, History of Liddesdale, etc., p. 274 f. For what immediately follows, Armstrong, pp. 273, 279.

Footnote 235:

A place two miles north of Mosspaul, on the road from Langholm to Hawick.

Footnote 236:

Scott remarks that the “common people of the high parts of Teviotdale, Liddesdale, and the country adjacent, hold the memory of Johnie Armstrong in very high respect.” “They affirm, also,” he adds, “that one of his attendants broke through the king’s guard, and carried to Gilnockie Tower the news of the bloody catastrophe:” but that is in the English ballad, #B# 20.

Footnote 237:

Dr Hill Burton has made a slight slip here, III, 146, ed. 1863; compare Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials, I, 154.

Footnote 238:

He lived in the West March, if that helps to an explanation.

Footnote 239:

Found also in one copy of Hugh the Græme, Buchan’s MSS, I, 63, st. 15. Borrowed by Sir Walter Scott in The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto I, ix.

Footnote 240:

See many cases in Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 210 f, to which may be added: Milà, Romancerillo, No 243, pp. 219–21; Briz, II, 222; Amador de los Rios, Historia de la Lit. Esp., VII, 449; El Folk-Lore Andaluz, 1882, pp. 41, 77; Almeida-Garrett, II, 56, note; Nigra, C. P. del Piemonte, No I, E-I, N, O; ‘Le serpent vert,’ Poésies p. de la France, MS., III, fol. 126, 508, now printed by Rolland, III, 10; Kolberg, Pieśni ludu polskiego, No 18, p. 208; Luzel, I, 81, II, 357, 515; Brewer, Dictionary of Miracles, pp. 205, 355 f.; Gaidoz, and others, Mélusine, IV, 228 ff., 272 ff., 298, 323 f., 405.

Footnote 241:

Grundtvig, No 84, ‘Hustru og Mands Moder,’ is not so good a case, though a boy just born announces that he will revenge his mother, because the boy is born nine years old; II, 412, #D# 30, #E# 18. This again in Kristensen, I, 202 f, No 74, #B# 12, #C# 11, and II, 113 ff, No 35, #A# 18, #B# 14, #C# 11. The stanza cited by Dr Prior, I, 37, from ‘Hammen von Reystett,’ Wunderhorn, 1808, II, 179, is hardly to the purpose.

Footnote 242:

Jamieson cites the first two verses in The Scots Magazine, October, 1803, and says: Of this affecting composition I have two copies, both imperfect, but they will make a pretty good and consistent whole between them.

Footnote 243:

Burnet; Rapin-Thoyras, 1724, V, 401.

Footnote 244:

W. Patten, The Expedicion into Scotlande, etc., reprinted in Dalyell’s Fragments of Scottish History, pp. 51, 66.

Footnote 245:

Deceivin, Abbey, are of course savin misunderstood. One of the reciters of #D# (4^2) gave ‘saving.’

Footnote 246:

History of the Reformation, Knox’s Works, ed. Laing, II, 415 f. Knox continues: “But yet was not the court purged of whores and whoredom, which was the fountain of such enormities; for it was well known that shame hasted marriage betwix John Semple, called the Dancer, and Mary Livingston, surnamed the Lusty. What bruit the Maries and the rest of the dancers of the court had, the ballads of that age did witness, which we for modesty’s sake omit.” This Mary Livingston is one of the Four Marys, but, as already said, is mentioned in version #F# only of our ballad.

Footnote 247:

“In this set of the ballad” [#D#], says Motherwell, “from its direct allusion to the use of the savin tree, a clue is perhaps afforded for tracing how the poor mediciner mentioned by Knox should be implicated in the crime of Mary Hamilton.” Maidment goes further: “The reference to the use of the savin tree in Motherwell induces a strong suspicion that the lover was a mediciner.” Maidment should have remembered that there is a popular pharmacopœia quite independent of the professional. No apothecary prescribes in ‘Tam Lin.’

Footnote 248:

In an extract from Gordon’s History of Peter the Great, Aberdeen, 1755, II, 308 f.

Footnote 249:

‘Maid-of-Honor Hamilton,’ by M. I. Semefsky, in Slovo i Dyelo (Word and Deed), 1885, St Petersburg, 3d edition, p. 187. I am indebted to Professor Vinogradof, of the University of Moscow, for pointing out this paper, and to Miss Isabel Florence Hapgood for a summary of its contents.

Footnote 250:

The parentage of these was not ascertained. Some accounts make Mary Hamilton to have been Peter’s mistress: for example [J. B. Schérer’s], Anecdotes intéressantes et secrètes de la cour de Russie, London, 1792, II, 272 ff. See also Mélanges de Littérature, etc., par François-Louis, comte d’Escherny, Paris, 1811, I, 7 f. (The white gown with black ribbons is here.)

Footnote 251:

“Hamilton, imperturbable, niait. Menzikoff engagea l’empereur à faire une perquisition dans les coffres d’Hamilton, ou l’on trouva le corps du délit, l’arrière-faix et du linge ensanglanté.” Schérer, Anecdotes, p. 274.

Footnote 252:

Bedford and Randolph to the Council, Wright’s Queen Elizabeth, etc., p. 227; Burton, History of Scotland, IV, 145.

Footnote 253:

Ruthven’s Relation, p. 30 f, London, 1699.

Footnote 254:

The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 6; Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 105 f; Tytler’s History, VII, 83.

Footnote 255:

To save appearances, we may understand “old copies” to mean copies restored or brought nearer to what is imagined to have been the original form. The variations will be given in notes as pièces justificatives.

Footnote 256:

Sir Cuthbert Sharp, Memorials of the Rebellion of 1569, p. 202; a collection of many original papers pertaining to this rising, with much subsidiary information. But the story should be read in the eighteenth chapter of Mr Froude’s Reign of Elizabeth. Both works have been used here passim; Froude in the edition of New York, 1870.

Footnote 257:

Northumberland, on being asked how much money he spent in the quarrel, says, “about one hundred and twenty pound.” The Queen’s proclamation, Nov. 24, declares that the earls were two persons as ill chosen for the reformation of any great matters as any could lie in the realm, for they were both in poverty, etc. Sharp, pp. 208, 66; also 290.

Footnote 258:

Sharp, p. 113.

Footnote 259:

The dun-bull of the Nevilles is given in Sharp, p. 87, and one greyhound’s head, with what may pass for a golden collar, at p. 316; the three dogs are not warranted. Percy’s half-moon is improperly mixed up with the banner of the five wounds in 31.

Footnote 260:

Sharp, pp. 92, 95, 97 f.

Footnote 261:

Sharp, pp. 114 f, 118. “My lord Regent convened with Martin Eliot that he should betray Thomas, Earl of Northumberland, who was fled in Liddesdale out of England for refuge, in this manner: that is to say, the said Martin caused Heckie Armstrong desire my lord of Northumberland to come and speak with him under trust, and caused the said earl believe that, after speaking, if my lord Regent would pursue him, that he and his friends should take plain part with the Earl of Northumberland. And when the said earl came with the same Heckie Armstrong to speak the said Martin, he caused certain light-horsemen of my lord Regent’s, with others his friends, to lie at await, and when they should see the said earl and the said Martin speaking together, that they should come and take the said earl; and so as was devised, so came to pass.” Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 154.

Footnote 262:

From a letter of January 6, we learn that the Earl of Northumberland was then in Edinburgh, attended by James Swyno, William Burton, and others. James Swyno is apparently the chamberlain of the ballad. Sharp, p. 139.

Footnote 263:

Lord Hunsdon, Sharp, p. 125.

Footnote 264:

Sharp, pp. 324–29. To whom the money went, if to anybody besides William Douglas, we are not distinctly told. Tytler intimates that Morton had a share: “this base and avaricious man sold his unhappy prisoner to Elizabeth,” VII, 395. There was baseness enough without the addition of avarice: “The Earl of Northumberland was rendered to the Queen of England, forth of the castle of Lochleven, by a certain condition made betwix her and the Earl of Morton for gold.... And indeed this was unthankfully remembered, for when Morton was banisht from Scotland he found no such kind man to him in England as this earl was.” Historie of King James the Sext, p. 106 f. Sir Richard Maitland, who spares Morton and Lochleven no epithets in his spirited invective against those who delivered the Earl of Northumberland, says that they “of his bluide resavit the pygrall pryce,” but does not charge Morton with an act of ingratitude.

Footnote 265:

Stanza 43 is corrupted.

Footnote 266:

Kirkpatrick Sharpe’s Historical Account of Witchcraft in Scotland, pp. 38–54, ed. 1884.

Footnote 267:

Rochholz, Schweizersagen aus dem Aargau, II, 162; Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, p. 783 f, ed. 1876, and Saxo Grammaticus (p. 34, ed 1576, Holder, p. 66), quoted by Grimm. These citations are furnished by Liebrecht, Göttingen Gelehrte Anzeigen, 1868, p. 1899, who finds hydromancy in st. 26, where, however, all that seems to be meant is that the mother would let her daughter see from Lochleven what was doing in London. Of dactyliomancy proper there is something in Delrio, IV, ii, 6, 4, 5, p. 547, ed. 1624.

Footnote 268:

Sharp’s Memorials, pp. 138, 142, 298 ff, 346 ff.

Footnote 269:

The most favorable interpretation has been given to ‘Now hath Armstrong taken.’ The meaning is rather, perhaps, that Armstrong has detained Neville and his followers.

Footnote 270:

71^3. ‘spekest soe litle.’

Footnote 271:

This is the date given me. It is very near to that of the event.

Footnote 272:

Lieut.-Col. H. W. Lumsden has very kindly allowed me a discretional use of an unpublished paper of his upon the historical basis of this ballad, and I freely avail myself of his aid, all responsibility remaining, of course, with me.

Footnote 273:

The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 95 ff. The History of the Feuds and Conflicts among the Clans, etc., p. 51 ff, in Miscellanea Scotica, vol. I. Diurnal of Occurrents, pp. 251, 253, 255.

Footnote 274:

Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 255. What place is meant by Carrigill here is of no present consequence, since it was Towie that was burnt. Many writers, as Tytler, VII, 367, following Crawfurd’s spurious Memoirs, p. 240, 1706, make the number that perished in the house thirty-seven.

Footnote 275:

Journal of the Transactions in Scotland during the contest between the adherents of Queen Mary and those of her son, 1570, 1571, 1572, 1573, p. 302 f., Edinburgh, 1806.

Footnote 276:

History of the Church of Scotland, ed. 1666, p. 259.

Footnote 277:

“For many miserable months Scotland presented a sight which might have drawn pity from the hardest heart: her sons engaged in a furious and constant butchery of each other; ... nothing seen but villages in flames, towns beleagured by armed men, women and children flying from the cottages where their fathers or husbands had been massacred; ... prisoners tortured, or massacred in cold blood, or hung by forties and fifties at a time.” Tytler, VII, 370.

Footnote 278:

These are nearly the words of Lieut.-Col. Lumsden, upon whom I am very glad to lean. That Ker was a valuable officer is well known.

Footnote 279:

The History of the Feuds and Conflicts among the Clans, p. 54 f.

Footnote 280:

Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 304 f. Also The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 111.

As to the ‘Bank of Fair,’ otherwise called Corrichie, the Earl of Huntly and two of his sons, John and Adam, were made prisoners at the battle there in 1562. The father, a corpulent man, “by reason of the throng that pressed him, expired in the hands of his takers.” John was executed, but Adam was spared because of his tender age. (Spottiswood, p. 187.)

Tytler observes of Adam Gordon: “In his character we find a singular mixture of knightly chivalry with the ferocity of the highland freebooter.... Such a combination as that exhibited by Gordon was no infrequent production in these dark and sanguinary times.” VII, 367. But it would have been a good thing to cite other instances.

Footnote 281:

Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, II, 355 f., 420, 480, 720. Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 350. Chronicle of Aberdeen, in The Miscellany of the Spalding Club, II, 53.

Footnote 282:

Register of the Privy Council, II, 199, 725; III, 10; V, 46, 187. Register of the Great Seal, No 1554, vol. V. Miscellany of the Spalding Club, III, 163. Historie of King James the Sext, pp 339 f., 342. The so-called ballad in Dalzell’s Scotish Poems of the Sixteenth Century, II, 347, which was in circulation as a broadside.

Footnote 283:

That a Margaret Campbell was the wife of John Forbes of Towie in 1556–63 appears from the Register of the Great Seal of Scotland, Nos 1124, 1404, 1469. But Lieut.-Col. Lumsden remarks that Sir John Campbell of Calder had no daughter of the name of Margaret, and that there is no record of such a marriage in the Cawdor papers. It may be observed in passing that Buchanan’s and Spottiswood’s error (as it seems to be) of substituting Alexander Forbes for John might easily arise, since, according to the Genealogy, John’s father, one of his brothers, a son, and a grandson, all bore the name Alexander.

Footnote 284:

“After making considerable researches upon the subject, I am come to the conclusion that it was Towie House that was burnt. Cargarf never was in possession of a Forbes.” (Joseph Robertson, Kinloch MSS, VI, 28.) What is said of Corgarf in the View of the Diocese of Aberdeen, 1732, Robertson, Collections for a History of the Shires of Aberdeen and Banff, pp. 611, 616, is derived from Lumsden. Robert Gordon, writing about 1654, says, “Non procul a fontibus [Donæ] jacet Corgarf, exigui nominis.” A description of the parish of Strathdon, written about 1725, in Macfarlane’s Geographical Collections, MS., says of Curgarf, “This is an old castle belonging to the earls of Mar, but nothing remarkable about it:” pp. 26, 616, of the work last cited. The Statistical Accounts of Scotland give no light; the older tells the story of Corgarf, the later of both Corgarf and Towie, and the one is as uncritical as the other.

John Forbes of Towie (Tolleis) is one of a long list of that name in an order of the Lords of Council concerning an action of the Forbes clan against the Earl of Huntly in 1573; and in another paper, dated July, 1578, which has reference to the same action, the Forbeses complain that “sum of thair housiss, wyiffis and bairnis being thairin, were all uterlie wraikit and brount.” (Robertson, Illustrations, etc., IV, 762, 765.) Bearing in mind the latitude of phraseology customary in indictments, we are perhaps under no necessity of thinking that the atrocity of Towie was but one of several instances of houses burnt, wives (women) and bairns being therein. There may be those who will think it plausible that “Carrigill” in the Diurnal of Occurrents should be Corgarf, and that both were burnt.

Footnote 285:

The making Gordon burn a house of the Hamiltons, who were of the queen’s party, is a heedless perversion of history such as is to be found only in ‘historical’ ballads. The castle of Hamilton had been burnt in 1570, “and the toun and palice of Hamiltoun thairwith,” more than a year before the burning of Towie, but by Lennox and his English allies. (Diurnal of Occurrents, p. 177.)

“The old castle of Loudoun,” says the Rev. Norman Macleod, “was destroyed by fire about 350 years ago [that is, about 1500]. The current tradition regarding the burning of the old castle ascribes that event to the clan Kennedy at the period above mentioned, and the remains of an old tower at Achruglen, on the Galston side of the valley, is still pointed out as having been their residence.”

Footnote 286:

#F.# 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. #G.# 1, 2, 3, 4, 13, 14, 5, 6, 30, 20, 15, 16, 22, 24, 25, 26, 34, 35.

Footnote 287:

“At the queen last being at Stirling, the prince being brought unto her, she offered to kiss him, but he would not, but put her away, and did to his strength scratch her. She offered him an apple, but it would not be received of him, and to a greyhound bitch having whelps was thrown, who eat it, and she and her whelps died presently. A sugar-loaf also for the prince was brought at the same time; it is judged to be very ill compounded.” Calendar of State Papers, Foreign, May 20, 1567, p. 235: cited by Burton. Considering that the prince had only just passed his eleventh month, it would seem that the apple or the sugar-loaf might have served without any compounding.

Footnote 288:

Historie of King James the Sext, p. 165 ff; Tytler’s History, VIII, 35 ff; Burton, V, 163 ff.

Footnote 289:

Historie of King James the Sext, p. 246.

Footnote 290:

Spottiswood’s History, ed. 1666, p. 387. See also The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 246 ff.; Moysie’s Memoirs, p. 88 ff.; Birrel’s Diary, p. 26 f.

Footnote 291:

History of the Church of Scotland, published by the Wodrow Society, Edinburgh, 1844, V, 173; in Maidment’s Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 8.

Footnote 292:

History of the Church of Scotland, ed. 1666, p. 389.

Footnote 293:

Calendar of the State Papers relating to Scotland, Thorpe, II, 611.

Footnote 294:

Carta Ioanni, filio natu maximo et heredi Andreæ Weymis de Myrecarny, et Margarete Weiksterne, sue sponse, Terrarum de Myrecarny, etc. Fife, 25 Dec^{rs}, 1594. Weymis de Myrecarny and Wemys de Logy are one, as appears by a charter of July 25, 1564. Register of the Great Seal of Scotland, Index, in the Signet Library, noted for me by Mr Macmath.

Footnote 295:

Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, V, 11. And again: 1594, April 13. Caution in £2000 by ——Wemys, apparent of that Ilk, for Johnne Wemyss, apparent of Logy, that he shall remain in ward with David Wemys of that Ilk till relieved.

May 2. Caution in 300 merks by Johnne Wemys, younger of that Ilk, for Johnne Wemys of Logy, that he shall answer before the Privy Council at Edinburgh upon 22d instant “to sic thingis as salbe inquirit of him.”

September 27. Sir Johnne Wemys of Tullibrek, Michaell Balfour of Monquhaine, and Andro Wemyss of Myrecairny, for Johnne Wemyss, son and apparent heir of Andro, £20,000, to go abroad by the 15th October next and not return without licence. Deleted by warrant subscribed by the king and treasurer-depute at Haliruidhous 20th February, 1594. Ib., pp 141 f., 144, 638. The entries in 1594 may have reference to later offences.

Footnote 296:

Sir John Carmichael was appointed captain of the king’s guard in 1588, and usually had the keeping of state criminals of rank. Scott.

Footnote 297:

The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 303 f.; Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, V, 144.

Footnote 298:

Calendar of State Papers relating to Scotland, Thorpe, II, 611, No 6.

Footnote 299:

The History of the Feuds and Conflicts among the Clans, etc., p. 41 f, in Miscellanea Scotica, Spottiswood, ed. 1666, p. 390.

Footnote 300:

Lesley, History of Scotland, p. 235; Gregory, History of the Western Highlands, ed. 1881, p. 184; Browne, History of the Highlands, IV, 476. For the traditional story, Finlay, II, 95, note; Laing’s Thistle of Scotland, p. 107 f.; Whitelaw, p. 248.

Footnote 301:

“In the end of this year [1593] there fell out great troubles in the west marches. Some of the surname of Johnston having in the July preceding made a great depredation upon the lands of Sanwhare and Drumlanrig, and killed eighteen persons that followed for rescue of their goods,” etc. Spottiswood, p. 400, ed. 1666.

Footnote 302:

37 does not come in happily. Scott put this stanza after 29, omitting ‘Sin’; but there is no rational sense gained, unless the Johnstones are supposed to deny the cattle-lifting. Admitting a bold anacoluthon in the first verse (a mixture of since—so and neither—nor), 37 might stand as and where it is. The Johnstones have done no wanton injury; they have only revenged in a proper way the death of the Galliard. But even then the Johnstones would be made to blink the Galliard’s horse-stealing.

Footnote 303:

As there was no great “routh” of Christian names among the clansmen of the borders, to-names became necessary for the distinction of the numerous Jocks, Christies, Watties and Archies. The name of parent, or of parent and grandparent, was sometimes prefixed, as John’s Christie, Agnes’ Christie, Peggie’s Wattie, Gibb’s Jack’s Johnie, Pattie’s Geordie’s Johnie; sometimes the place of abode was added, as Jock o the Side; sometimes there was distinction by personal peculiarities, dress, or arms, as Fair Johnie, Red Cloak, John with the Jack, etc., etc. See lists of all varieties in Mr R. B. Armstrong’s History of Liddesdale, etc., p. 78 f.

Footnote 304:

Ties them with St Mary’s knot: hamstrings them, says Caw, and say others after him. A St John’s knot is double, a St Mary’s triple. Observe that in 31 it is simply said that there is only one horse loose in the stable.

Footnote 305:

“The Armstrongs at length got Dick o the Cow in their clutches, and, out of revenge, they tore his flesh from his bones with red-hot pincers:” note in Caw’s Museum, p. 35. “At the conclusion of the ballad, the singer used invariably to add that Dickie’s removal to Burgh under Stainmuir did not save him from the clutches of the Armstrongs. Having fallen into their power, several years after this exploit, he was plunged into a large boiling pot, and so put to death. The scene of this cruel transaction is pointed out somewhere in Cumberland.” Chambers, Scottish Ballads, p. 55, note. No well-wisher of Dick has the least occasion to be troubled by these puerile supplements of the singers.

Footnote 306:

I am indebted to Mr R. B. Armstrong for all information not hitherto published.

Footnote 307:

“It was not unusual to call two sons by a favorite name, and the brother of Gilnockie would have probably called his sons by that name:” R. B. A.

Footnote 308:

“The place which is alluded to by Scott was pointed out to me about thirty years since. There then were the remains of a tower which stood on a small plateau where the Dow Sike and the Blaik Grain join the Stanygillburn, a tributary of the Tinnisburn. Some remains of the building may still be traced at the northern angle of the sheepfold of which it forms part. The walls that remain are 4 feet 3 inches thick, and measured on the inside about 6 feet high. They extend about 18 feet 6 inches in one direction and 14 feet in another, forming portions of two sides with the angle of the tower.... There must have been a considerable building of a rude kind.... This place, as the crow flies, is quite two miles and a quarter from Kershope-foot, and by the burn two miles and a half.... The Laird’s Jock’s residence is marked on a sketch map of Liddesdale by Lord Burleigh, drawn when Simon was laird of Mangerton. (Simon, son of Thomas, was laird in 1578–9.) It is also marked at the mouth of the Tinnisburn on a ‘platt’ of the country, of 1590.” R. B. A.

Footnote 309:

The Archbishop’s account is apparently based upon a more minute “relation of the maner of surprizeing of the Castell of Cairlell by the lord of Buccleugh,” given, from a manuscript of the period, in the later edition of the Minstrelsy, II, 32. There is another account of the rescue in The Historie of King James the Sext, p. 366 ff.

Footnote 310:

Near the water of Sark, in the Debateable Land, and belonging to Kinmont Willie: “William Armstrong, in Morton Tower, called Will of Kinmouth, 1569.” Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, II, 44.

Footnote 311:

“The queen of England, having notice sent her of what was done, stormed not a little,” and her ambassador was instructed to say that peace could not continue between the two realms unless Buccleuch were delivered to England, to be punished at the queen’s pleasure. Buccleuch professed himself willing to be tried, according to ancient treaties, by commissioners of the respective kingdoms, and the Scots made the proposal, but Elizabeth did not immediately consent to this arrangement. At last, to satisfy the queen, Buccleuch was put in ward at the castle of St Andrews. Spotiswood adds that he was “afterwards entered in England, where he remained not long” (and Tytler to the same effect, IX, 226). According to one of the MSS of The Historie of King James the Sext, the king, to please and pleasure her Majesty, entered Buccleuch in ward at Berwick with all expedition possible, and the queen, of her courtesy, released him back in due and sufficient time: p. 421. But Buccleuch seems to have been entered in England only once, and that in 1597, and not for the assault on Carlisle castle, or for a raid which he made in the next year, but because he did not deliver his pledges, as he was under obligation to do according to a treaty made by a joint commission in 1597. See Ridpath’s Border History, 1848, pp. 473, 477.

Footnote 312:

Tytler’s History, IX, 437. “The greatest nomber whareof war ordinar nycht-walkers” (H. of K. J. the Sext, p. 369).

Footnote 313:

“Dike Armestronge of Dryup dwelleth neare High Morgarton” (Mangerton). Dike Armestronge of Dryup appears in a list of the principal men in Liddesdale, drawn up when Simon Armstrong was laird of Mangerton, among Simon’s uncles or uncles’ sons. Dick of Dryup is complained of, with others, for reif and burning, in 1583, 1586, 1587, 1603, and his name is among the outlaws proclaimed at Carlisle July 23, 1603. (Notes of Mr R. B. Armstrong.)

Footnote 314:

“The informer saith that Buclughe was the fifth man which entered the castle:” Lord Scroop’s letter, Tytler, IX, 437. But the MS. used by Scott, Spotiswood’s account (founded chiefly or altogether upon that MS.), and The Historie of King James the Sext agree in saying that Buccleuch remained outside, “to assure the retreat of his awin from the castell againe.”

Footnote 315:

“Red Rowy Forster” is one of the list complained of to the Bishop of Carlisle, about 1550 (see ‘Hughie Grame’), and he is in company with Jock of Kinmont, one of Will’s four sons, Archie of Gingles, Jock of Gingles, and George of the Gingles, who may represent “The Chingles” in the informer’s list already cited. Nicolson and Burn, I, lxxxii.

Footnote 316:

This is also to be observed: “There are in this collection no fewer than three poems on the rescue of prisoners, the incidents in which nearly resemble each other, though the poetical description is so different that the editor did not think himself at liberty to reject any one of them, as borrowed from the others. As, however, there are several verses which, in recitation, are common to all these three songs, the editor, to prevent unnecessary and disagreeable repetition, has used the freedom of appropriating them to that in which they seem to have the best poetic effect.” ‘Jock o the Side,’ Minstrelsy, II, 76, ed. 1833.

Footnote 317:

Campbell “projected” his work as early as 1790, and he intimates in his preface, p. viii (if I have rightly understood him), that he gave help to Scott.

Footnote 318:

For the Laird’s Jock, see ‘Dick o the Cow,’ No 185. “I do not say there never was a Laird’s Wat, but I do not recollect having met with an Armstrong called Walter during the sixteenth century:” Mr R. B. Armstrong.

Footnote 319:

If the text is right, John (or was it Hobbie Noble?) had killed Peeter a Whifeild. See ‘Hobbie Noble,’ 9^4.

Footnote 320:

“I am a bastard brother of thine,” says Hobby in 26^3; cf. 28^2. But in #B# 7 and ‘Hobie Noble,’ 3, he is an Englishman, born in Bewcastle, and banished to Liddesdale.

Footnote 321:

This device, whether of great practical use or not, has much authority to favor it: Hereward, De Gestis Herwardi, Michel, Chroniques A. Normandes, p. 81; Fulk Fitz-Warin, Wright, p. 92; Eustache le Moine, Michel, p. 55, vv. 1505 ff. (see Michel’s note, p. 104 f.); Robert Bruce, Scotichronicon, Goodall, II, 226; other cases in Miss Burne’s Shropshire Folk-Lore, pp. 16, 20, 93 note. It is repeated in ‘Archie o Cawfield.’

Footnote 322:

Bay and grey should be exchanged in #B# 10, #C# 7.

Footnote 323:

Miswritten Capeld; again in 12^4.

Footnote 324:

“Tradition says that his [Archie’s] name was Archibald Armstrong.” (Note at the end of the MS.)

Footnote 325:

Belonging to John’s Christie, son of Johnie Armstrong. Christie of Barnglish was in Kinmont Willie’s rescue. R. B. Armstrong, Appendix, p. cii, No LXIV; T. J. Carlyle, The Debateable Land, p. 22. Tytler, IX, 437.

Footnote 326:

The “white hand” in the Slovenian ballad, II, 350, is hard to explain unless there is a mixture of a prison-ballad and a snake-ballad.

Footnote 327:

“The earldom of Huntingdon was vacant from about 1487 to 1529, and, as the Fitz-Walters were lineally descended from the daughter of the first Simon de St Liz, Earl of Huntingdon, this may have suggested to Skelton the idea of giving that title to the husband of Matilda Fitz-Walter.”

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. P. 204, changed "3. unto her lovely." to "3^3. unto her lovely.". 2. P. 287, changed "25. 5 score" to "25^1. 5 score". 3. Except as noted, all spelling errors were left uncorrected. 4. All punctuation was left uncorrected, except as follows. 5. A beginning or ending quote mark was added for obviously unbalanced pairs of quotes. 6. Full stops and commas were made consistent for the verse & line references, for example, "12^1," was corrected to "12^1." 7. Footnotes have been re-indexed using numbers and collected together at the end of the last chapter. 8. Enclosed italics font in underscores. 9. Enclosed bold font in #number signs#. 10. Enclosed letter spaced font in double angle quotation marks. 11. Superscripts are denoted by a caret before a single superscript character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}. 12. Superscript letters centered over subscript periods or colons are denoted by [th :].

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