Appendix
THE LOVELY NORTHERNE LASSE
#a.# Roxburghe Ballads, I, 190, in the Ballad Society’s reprint, ed. W. Chappell, I, 587. #b.# Rawlinson Ballads, 566, fol. 205.
#a# WAS printed at London for F. Coules, who, according to Mr Chappell, flourished during the last five years of James First’s reign and throughout that of Charles First: dated by Mr Bullen, 1640. #b# was printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright, 1655–80 (Chappell). There is another copy in the Euing collection, No 166, printed for Francis Coles in the Old Bayly, who may be the same person as the printer of #a#; and a fourth in the Douce collection, II, 137, verso, without printer’s name. A copy differing from #a# by only three words is given by R. H. Evans, Old Ballads, 1810, I, 88.
Burton, in the fifth edition of his Anatomy of Melancholy, Oxford, 1638, p. 536, says: “The very rusticks and hog-rubbers ... have their ballads, country tunes, O the broome, the bonny, bonny broome,” etc. (Chappell). This remark is not found in the fourth edition, Oxford, 1632, p. 544. Concerning the air, see Chappell’s Popular Music, pp. 458–61, 613, 783.
THE LOVELY NORTHERNE LASSE.
Who in this ditty, here complaining, shewes What harme she got, milking her dadyes ewes.
To a pleasant Scotch tune, called The broom of Cowden Knowes.
1 Through Liddersdale as lately I went, I musing on did passe; I heard a maid was discontent, she sighd, and said, Alas! _All maids that ever deceived was beare a part of these my woes, For once I was a bonny lasse, when I milkt my dadyes ewes. With, O the broome, the bonny broome, the broome of Cowdon Knowes! Faine would I be in the North Countrey, to milke my dadyes ewes._
2 ‘My love into the fields did come, when my dady was at home; Sugred words he gave me there, praisd me for such a one. His honey breath and lips so soft, and his alluring eye And tempting tong, hath woo’d me oft, now forces me to cry, All maids, &c.
3 ‘He joyed me with his pretty chat, so well discourse could he, Talking of this thing and of that, which greatly likëd me. I was so greatly taken with his speech, and with his comely making; He usëd all the meanes could be to inchant me with his speaking.
4 ‘In Danby Forest I was borne; my beauty did excell; My parents dearely lovëd me till my belly began to swell. I might have beene a prince’s peere when I came over the knoes, Till the shepherds boy beguilëd me, milking my dadyes ewes.
5 ‘When once I felt my belly swell, no longer might I abide; My mother put me out of doores, and bangd me backe and side. Then did I range the world so wide, wandering about the knoes, Cursing the boy that helpëd me to fold my dadyes ewes.
6 ‘Who would have thought a boy so young would have usd a maiden so As to allure her with his tongue, and then from her to goe? Which hath also procured my woe, to credit his faire shewes, Which now too late repent I doe, the milking of the ewes.
7 ‘I often since have wisht that I had never seen his face; I needed not thus mournefully have sighed, and said Alas! I might have matchëd with the best, as all the country knowes, Had I escaped the shepherds boy helpt me to fold my ewes.
8 ‘All maidens faire, then have a care when you a milking goe; Trust not to young men’s tempting tongues, that will deceive you so. Them you shall finde to be unkinde and glory in your woes; For the shepheards boy beguilëd mee folding my dadyes ewes.’
9 ‘If you your virgin honours keepe, esteeming of them deare, You need not then to waile and weepe, or your parents anger feare. As I have said, of them beware would glory in your woes; You then may sing with merry cheere, milking your dadyes ewes.’
10 A young man, hearing her complaint, did pity this her case, Saying to her, Sweet beautious saint, I grieve so faire a face Should sorrow so; then, sweeting, know, to ease thee of thy woes, Ile goe with thee to the North Country, to milke thy dadyes ewes.
11 ‘Leander like, I will remaine still constant to thee ever, As Piramus, or Troyalus, till death our lives shall sever. Let me be hated evermore, of all men that me knowes, If false to thee, sweet heart, I bee, milking thy dadyes ewes.’
12 Then modestly she did reply, ‘Might I so happy bee Of you to finde a husband kinde, and for to marrie me, Then to you I would during life continue constant still, And be a true, obedient wife, observing of your will. _With, O the broome, the bonny broome, the broome of Cowden Knoes! Faine would I be in the North Country, milking my dadyes ewes._
13 Thus, with a gentle soft imbrace, he tooke her in his armes, And with a kisse he smiling said, ‘Ile shield thee from all harmes, And instantly will marry thee, to ease thee of thy woes, And goe with thee to the North Country, to milke thy dadyes ewes.’ _With, O the broome, the bonny broome, the broome of Cowden Knoes! Faine would I be in the North Country, to milke my dadyes ewes._
* * * * *
#a.#
After 7: The Second Part.
#b.#
Title: in the ditty.
2^1. field.
2^2. from home.
5^6. amongst for about.
6^3. So to.
6^6. hath alas.
7. Wanting.
8^5. Then.
9^1. virgins.
10^5. I know.
13^3. my for thy.
13^9. With O the broom, &c.
218
THE FALSE LOVER WON BACK
#A.# ‘The Fause Lover,’ Buchan’s MSS, I, 114; Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 268.
#B.# ‘The place where my love Johnny dwells,’ Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 144.
A young man is deserting one maid for another. The object of his new fancy lives at a distance, and he is on his way to her. He is followed by his old love from stage to stage; he repelling her, and she tenderly remonstrating. His heart gradually softens; he buys her gifts from town to town, and though each time he bids her go back, he ends with buying her a wedding gown (ring) and marrying her.
Two pretty stanzas in #A#, 4, 5, seem not to belong to this story. The inconstant youth would have been only too glad to have the faithful maid look to other men, and gives her all liberty to do so. These two stanzas are first found in Herd’s MSS, I, 53, and in Herd’s Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, 1776, II, 6, as follows:
False luve, and hae ye played me this, In the simmer, mid the flowers? I sall repay ye back agen, In the winter, mid the showers.
Bot again, dear luve, and again, dear luve, Will ye not turn again? As ye look to ither women, Sall I to ither men.
In a manuscript at Abbotsford, entitled Scottish Songs, 1795 (containing pieces dated up to 1806), fol. 69, they stand thus:
False luve, and hae ye played me this, In simmer amang the flowers? I shall repay you back agen In winter amang the showers.
Unless again, again, dear luve, But if ye turn agen, As ye look other women to, Sall I to other men.
Scott has put these verses, a little varied, into Davie Gellatley’s mouth, in the ninth chapter of ‘Waverley.’ The first, with a change, occurs also in ‘The Gardener,’ No 219, #A# 7, #B# 15, #C# 3.
#A# is translated by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, p. 141, No 32; by Gerhard, p. 114.
* * * * *
A
<small>Buchan’s MSS, I, 114.</small>
1 A Fair maid sat in her bower-door, Wringing her lily hands, And by it came a sprightly youth, Fast tripping oer the strands.
2 ‘Where gang ye, young John,’ she says, ‘Sae early in the day? It gars me think, by your fast trip, Your journey’s far away.’
3 He turnd about wi surly look, And said, What’s that to thee? I’m gaen to see a lovely maid, Mair fairer far than ye.
4 ‘Now hae ye playd me this, fause love, In simmer, mid the flowers? I shall repay ye back again, In winter, mid the showers.
5 ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye not turn again? For as ye look to other women, I shall to other men.’
6 ‘Make your choice of whom you please, For I my choice will have; I’ve chosen a maid more fair than thee, I never will deceive.’
7 But she’s kilt up her claithing fine, And after him gaed she; But aye he said, Ye’ll turn again, Nae farder gae wi me.
8 ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye never love me again? Alas for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’
9 The first an town that they came till, He bought her brooch and ring; And aye he bade her turn again, And gang nae farder wi him.
10 ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye never love me again? Alas for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’
11 The next an town that they came till, He bought her muff and gloves; But aye he bade her turn again, And choose some other loves.
12 ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye never love me again? Alas for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’
13 The next an town that they came till, His heart it grew mair fain, And he was as deep in love wi her As she was ower again.
14 The next an town that they came till, He bought her wedding gown, And made her lady of ha’s and bowers, Into sweet Berwick town.
* * * * *
B
Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 144; from the recitation of a woman born in Buchan.
1 The sun shines high on yonder hill, And low on yonder town; In the place where my love Johnny dwells, The sun gaes never down.
2 ‘O when will ye be back, bonny lad, O when will ye be hame?’ ‘When heather-hills are nine times brunt, And a’ grown green again.’
3 ‘O that’s ower lang awa, bonny lad, O that’s ower lang frae hame; For I’ll be dead and in my grave Ere ye come back again.’
4 He put his foot into the stirrup And said he maun go ride, But she kilted up her green claithing And said she woudna bide.
5 The firsten town that they came to, He bought her hose and sheen, And bade her rue and return again, And gang nae farther wi him.
6 ‘Ye likena me at a’, bonny lad, Ye likena me at a’;’ ‘It’s sair for you likes me sae weel And me nae you at a’.’
7 The nexten town that they came to, He bought her a braw new gown, And bade her rue and return again, And gang nae farther wi him.
8 The nexten town that they came to, He bought her a wedding ring, And bade her dry her rosy cheeks, And he would tak her wi him.
9 ‘O wae be to your bonny face, And your twa blinkin een! And wae be to your rosy cheeks! They’ve stown this heart o mine.
10 ‘There’s comfort for the comfortless, There’s honey for the bee; There’s comfort for the comfortless, There’s nane but you for me.’
* * * * *
#A.#
9^1. first and: come.
11^1, 13^1. next and.
Variations in Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 268.
5^4. Shall I.
6^1. your choose.
7^3. turn back.
7^4. gang.
11, 12. Omitted.
13^3. as wanting.
14^4. In bonny Berwick.
219
THE GARDENER
#A.# Kinloch MSS, V, 47. ‘The Gardener,’ Kinloch MSS, VII, 19; Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 74.
#B.# ‘The Gardener Lad,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 187.
#C.# Fragment communicated by Dr Thomas Davidson.
A gardener will apparel a maid from head to foot with flowers, if she will be his bride. He gets a wintry answer: the snow shall be his shirt, the wind his hat, the rain his coat.
#B# 1–6 is mere jargon, foisted into this pretty ballad as a preface.
#A# 7, #B# 15, #C# 3, is found, substantially, in the preceding ballad, and perhaps belonged originally to neither.
Freely translated from #A# and #B# by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, p. 134, No 30.
* * * * *
A
Kinloch MSS, V, 47, in the handwriting of James Beattie; from the recitation of his aunt, Miss Elizabeth Beattie.
1 The gardener stands in his bower-door, With a primrose in his hand, And by there came a leal maiden, As jimp ‘s a willow wand. And by, etc.
2 ‘O lady, can you fancy me, For to be my bride, You’ll get a’ the flowers in my garden, To be to you a weed.
3 ‘The lily white shall be your smock; Becomes your body neat; And your head shall be deckd with jelly-flower, And the primrose in your breast.
4 ‘Your gown shall be o the sweet-william, Your coat o camovine, And your apron o the salads neat, That taste baith sweet and fine.
5 ‘Your stockings shall be o the broad kail-blade, That is baith broad and long; And narrow, narrow at the coot, And broad, broad at the brawn.
6 ‘Your gloves shall be the marygold, All glittering to your hand, Well spread oer wi the blue blaewort, That grows in corn-land.’
7 ‘O fare you well, young man,’ she says, ‘Farewell, and I bid adieu; Since you’ve provided a weed for me, Among the summer flowers, Then I’ll provide another for you, Among the winter showers.
8 ‘The new-fallen snow to be your smock; Becomes your body neat; And your head shall be deckd with the eastern wind, And the cold rain on your breast.’
* * * * *
B
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 187
1 All ye young men, I pray draw near, I’ll let you hear my mind Concerning those who fickle are, And inconstant as the wind.
2 A pretty maid who late livd here, And sweethearts many had, The gardener-lad he viewd them all, Just as they came and gaed.
3 The gardener-lad he viewd them all, But swore he had no skill: ‘If I were to go as oft to her, Ye surely would me kill.
4 ‘I’m sure she’s not a proper maid, I’m sure she is not tall;’ Another young man standing by, He said, Slight none at all.
5 ‘For we’re all come of woman,’ he said, ‘If ye woud call to mind, And to all women for her sake Ye surely should be kind.’
6 ‘The summer hours and warm showers Make the trees yield in the ground, And kindly words will woman win, And this maid I’ll surround.’
7 The maid then stood in her bower-door, As straight as ony wand, When by it came the gardener-lad, With his hat in his hand.
8 ‘Will ye live on fruit,’ he said? ‘Or will ye marry me? And amongst the flowers in my garden I’ll shape a weed for thee.’
9 ‘I will live on fruit,’ she says, ‘But I’ll never marry thee; For I can live without mankind, And without mankind I’ll die.’
10 ‘Ye shall not live without mankind, If ye’ll accept of me; For among the flowers in my garden I’ll shape a weed for thee.
11 ‘The lily white to be your smock; Becomes your body best; And the jelly-flower to be your quill, And the red rose in your breast.
12 ‘Your gown shall be o the pingo white, Your petticoat cammovine, Your apron o the seel o downs; Come smile, sweet heart o mine!
13 ‘Your shoes shall be o the gude rue red— Never did I garden ill— Your stockings o the mary mild; Come smile, sweet heart, your fill!
14 ‘Your gloves shall be o the green clover, Comes lockerin to your hand, Well dropped oer wi blue blavers, That grow among white land.’
15 ‘Young man, ye’ve shap’d a weed for me, In summer among your flowers; Now I will shape another for you, Among the winter showers.
16 ‘The snow so white shall be your shirt; It becomes your body best; The cold bleak wind to be your coat, And the cold wind in your breast.
17 ‘The steed that you shall ride upon Shall be o the weather snell, Well bridled wi the northern wind, And cold sharp showers o hail.
18 ‘The hat you on your head shall wear Shall be o the weather gray, And aye when you come into my sight I’ll wish you were away.’
* * * * *
C
Communicated from memory by Dr Thomas Davidson as learned in Old Deer, Aberdeenshire.
1 Burd Ellen stands in her bower-door, As straucht ‘s a hollan wand, And by it comes the gairdner-lad, Wi a red rose in his hand.
2 Says, I have shapen a weed for thee Amang my simmer flowers; . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* * * * * *
3 ‘Gin ye hae shapen a weed for me, Amang your simmer flowers, It’s I’ll repay ye back again, Amang the winter showers.
4 ‘The steed that ye sall ride upon Sall be o the frost sae snell, And I’ll saddle him wi the norlan winds, And some sharp showers o hail.’
* * * * * *
* * * * *
#A.#
Kinloch has made changes in MSS, VII, 19, which appear in his printed copy.
#C.#
2. “He goes on to describe his weed, promising to array her in flowers more gorgeously than Solomon in all his glory.”
4. “She continues, after the same style.”
220
THE BONNY LASS OF ANGLESEY
#A.# ‘The Bonny Lass of Anglesey,’ Herd’s MSS, I, 148; Herd’s Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, 1776, II, 231.
#B.# ‘The Bonny Lass o Englessie’s Dance,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 63.
This little ballad might perhaps rightfully have come in earlier, if I had known what to make of it. There is a resemblance, remarkable as far as it goes, to ‘Little Kirstin’s Dance,’ Grundtvig, V, 118, No 263. Here the dance is for a match; the lass asks what she is to have if she wins, and is promised fifteen (five) ploughs and a mill, and her choice of the king’s knights for a husband. In the Danish ballad (#A#), a king’s son, to induce Little Kirstin to dance before him, promises a succession of gifts, none of which avail until he plights his honor and troth. The remainder of the story is like the conclusion of ‘Gil Brenton,’ No 5: see especially I, 66. (Danish #A# is translated by Prior, III, 89, No 112.)
Kirstin tires out fifteen knights in Danish #A# 12, #B# 10, #D# 14 (in #C# 7 eleven); and a Kirstin tires out fifteen partners again in Grundtvig, No 126, #F# 32, No 245, #A# 16. In Norwegian versions of No 263, given by Grundtvig in an appendix, numbers are not specified; Kirstin in Norwegian #A# 6, #D# 18, tires out all the king’s knights.
Buchan quite frightens one by what he says of his version, II, 314: “It is altogether a political piece, and I do not wish to interfere much with it.”
* * * * *
A
Herd’s MSS, I, 148.
1 Our king he has a secret to tell, And ay well keepit it must be: The English lords are coming down To dance and win the victory.
2 Our king has cry’d a noble cry, And ay well keepit it must be: ‘Gar saddle ye, and bring to me The bonny lass of Anglesey.’
3 Up she starts, as white as the milk, Between him and his company: What is the thing I hae to ask, If I sould win the victory?’
4 ‘Fifteen ploughs but and a mill I gie thee till the day thou die, And the fairest knight in a’ my court To chuse thy husband for to be.’
5 She’s taen the fifteen lord[s] by the hand, Saying, ‘Will ye come dance with me?’ But on the morn at ten o’clock They gave it oer most shamefully.
6 Up then rais the fifteenth lord— I wat an angry man was he— Laid by frae him his belt and sword, And to the floor gaed manfully.
7 He said, ‘My feet shall be my dead Before she win the victory;’ But before ’twas ten o’clock at night He gaed it oer as shamefully.
* * * * *
B
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 63.
1 Word has gane thro a’ this land, And O well noticed it maun be! The English lords are coming down To dance and gain the victorie.
2 The king has made a noble cry, And well attended it maun be: ‘Come saddle ye, and bring to me The bonny lass o Englessie.’
3 She started up, a’ dress’d in white, Between him and his companie; Said, What will ye gie, my royal liege, If I will dance this dance for thee?
4 ‘Five good ploughs but and a mill I’ll give you till the day ye die; The bravest knight in all my court, I’ll give, your husband for to be.’
5 She’s taen the first lord by the hand, Says, ‘Ye’ll rise up and dance wi me;’ But she made a’ these lords fifeteen To gie it up right shamefullie.
6 Then out it speaks a younger lord, Says, ‘Fye for shame! how can this be?’ He loosd his brand frae aff his side, Likewise his buckler frae his knee.
7 He sware his feet should be his dead Before he lost the victorie; He danc’d full fast, but tired at last, And gae it up as shamefullie.
* * * * *
#A.#
1^2, 2^2. we’ll keep it must and be.
221
KATHARINE JAFFRAY
#A. a.# ‘Katharine Jaffray,’ Herd’s MSS, I, 61, II, 56. #b.# The Aldine edition of Burns, 1839, III, 181, four stanzas.
#B.# ‘The Laird of Laminton,’ Herd’s MSS, I, 164, II, 58.
#C.# ‘Katherine Jaffarie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 30, Abbotsford.
#D.# ‘The Laird of Laminton,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 3, Abbotsford.
#E.# ‘Cathrine Jaffray,’ Skene MS., p. 81.
#F.# ‘Catherine Janferry,’ Kinloch MSS, V, 315.
#G.# ‘Catharine Jaffery,’ Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, 1824, p. 34.
#H.# Kinloch MSS, V, 313.
#I.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 327.
#J.# ‘Catherine Johnson,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 75; ‘Catherine Johnstone,’ Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, 1827, p. 225.
#K.# ‘Loch-in-var,’ Buchan’s Gleanings, 1825, p. 74.
#L.# Macmath MS., p. 72, two stanzas.
The ballad was first published by Sir Walter Scott, under the title ‘The Laird of Laminton,’ in the first edition of the Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 216. This copy was fashioned by the editor from two in Herd’s MSS, #A#, #B#. In later editions of the Minstrelsy (III, 122, 1833), the ballad was given, with the title Katharine Janfarie, “in a more perfect state, from several recited copies.” Twelve stanzas out of twenty-one, however, are repeated from the first edition. Much the larger part of what is not in Herd is taken from #C#; the name Lochinvar is adopted from #D#.[116] A few peculiar readings may be from copies now not known, or may be the editor’s.
The ballad in Christie, II, 16, is Scott’s later copy, with the omission of the 16th stanza. That in Nimmo’s Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, p. 141, is #J#, from Motherwell’s Minstrelsy.
A Scots laird wooes a Scots maid and wins her favor. An English laird or lord, very liberal as to gowd and gear, comes to court the same lass, gains the consent of her friends (who had at least made no opposition to the earlier suit), and sets the wedding-day. The first lover comes to the wedding, backed by a strong body of armed men, whom he keeps out of sight. He is asked why he has come; it is for a sight of the bride or a word with her, or to take a glass of wine with her or the bridegroom, and this had he will go away. Getting near the bride on this pretence, he swings her on to his horse and is off. A bloody fight follows, but the bride is not retrieved. Englishmen may take warning by this not to seek wives in Scotland; it will always end in their being tricked and balked.
The attitude of the young woman to her first lover is not distinctly brought out in several copies. That she had jilted him in favor of a wealthier Englishman would probably not lessen the Scot’s pleasure in carrying her off. In #E# 18, she does not go willingly; she greets and wrings her hands, and says it’s foul play.[117] In #F# 2, #G# 2, the first lover openly charges her with changing and foul play, and such is the implication in #E# 13. In #B# 14, the bride, seeing the bloodshed, exclaims, Wae’s me for foul play! and her lover replies, Wae to your wilful will for causing so much good blood to be spilt! from which we must infer a fault on her part. #I# 2 has the ambiguous line ‘and his love drew away,’ which cannot be interpreted to mean that the first lover was inconstant without flying in the face of all the other copies. #D#, #J#, #K#, unequivocally represent the lass as faithful to her first love. The bridegroom, in these versions, arranges the match with the family, and does not mention the matter to the lass until the wedding-day: so in #C#, #H#.[118] She sends word to her lover that if he will come for her she will go with him, #D#; writes ‘to let him understand,’ #J#, #K#, and not to pay him the cold compliment of an invitation to see her wed the man that has supplanted him, as in #B# 3, #E# 5,#F# 5, #I# 3.
In #E# 7–9, while the first lover is drinking with his comrades they incite him to carry off the bride on her wedding-day; so #G# 6, without explanation of the circumstances. In #E# 7–9, 12–15, he goes to the bridal-house, and sitting at a table vents words which the other guests cannot understand: there was a young man who loved a lass that to-day goes another man’s bride, and plays her old love foul play; had he been so served, he would take the bride away. Upon this the English ask if he wishes a fight. There is something of this in #B# 7–10, #F# 13, 14, #G# 11–14.
The lover would wish to keep the strong body of men that he had brought with him quite in the background until their cue came. When, therefore, in #I# 8, 9, the bridegroom’s friends ask him what was that troop of younkers they had seen, he puts them off with the phrase, It must have been the Fairy Court; so in #L#. In #B# 5, 6 (where a stanza, and more, has dropped out), when the bridegroom sees this troop from a high window, the bride (from incredulity, it must be, and not because she is in concert with her old lover) says he must have seen the Fairy Court. #G# 15, 16, where the phrase comes in again, seems to have suffered corruption; any way, the passage is not quite intelligible to me.
Katharine Jaffray (Jamphray, Janfarie) is the lass’s name in #A#, #C-G#, #K#, #L#; Katharine Johnstone[119] in #J#; in #B#, #H#, #I#, she is nameless.
The lover is Lochinvar in #E#, #F#, #G#, #I#, #K#, #L# (note); Lamington in #D#, #H#, #J#; Lauderdale in #A#, #C#; he has no name in #B#. The bridegroom is Lochinvar in #D#, #H#; Lamington in #B#, Lymington, #K#; Lauderdale in #F#, #G#; Lochinton #A#, Lamendall #E#, Limberdale #I# (obvious mixtures of the preceding); Faughanwood in #C#; in #J# he has no name. The bridegroom should be an Englishman, but Lochinvar, Lamington, and Lauderdale are all south-Scottish names. #B# puts a Scot from the North Country in place of the titular Englishman of the other copies, but this Norland man is laird of Lamington.
The place of the fight is Cadan bank and Cadan brae, #C#, #D#; Cowden bank (banks) and Cowden brae (braes), #A#, #H#, #J#, the variation being perhaps due to the very familiar Cowdenknows; Callien, Caylin, Caley bank (buss) and brae, in #E#, #I#, #F#; Foudlin dyke and Foudlin stane in #K#. No place is named in #B#, #G#[120]. In #I#, the lass lives in Bordershellin.
A copy from the recitation of a young Irishwoman living in Taunton, Massachusetts (learned from print, I suppose, and in parts imperfectly remembered), puts the scene of the story at Edenborough town. A squire of high degree had courted a comely country girl. When her father came to hear of this, he was an angry man, and “requested of his daughter dear to suit his company,” or to match within her degree. The only son of a farmer in the east had courted this girl until he thought he had won her, and had got the consent of her father and mother. The girl writes the squire a letter to tell him that she is to be married to the farmer’s son. He writes in answer that she must dress in green at her wedding (a color which no Scots girl would wear, for ill luck), and he will wear a suit of the same, and wed her ‘in spite of all that’s there.’ He mounts eight squire-men on milk-white steeds, and rides ‘to the wedding-house, with the company dressed in green.’ (See the note to #L#.)
‘O welcome you, fair welcome! And where have you spent all day? Or did you see those gentlemen That rode along this way?’
He looked at her and scoffed at her, He smiled and this did say, ‘They might have been some fairy troops, That rode along this way.’
She fills him a glass of new port wine, which he drinks to all the company, saying, Happy is the man that is called the groom, but another may love her as well as he and take her from his side.
Up spoke the intended groom, And an angry man was he, Saying, If it is to fight that you came here, I am the man for thee.
‘It is not to fight that I came here, But friendship for to show; So give me one kiss from your lovely bride, And away from you I’ll go.’
He took her by the waist so small, And by the grass-green sleeve; He took her out of the wedding-house, Of the company asked no leave.
The drums did beat and the trumpets sound, Most glorious to be seen, And then away to Edenborough town, With the company dressed in green.
Scott’s Lochinvar, in the fifth canto of Marmion, was modelled on ‘Katharine Jaffray.’
Another ballad (but a much later and inferior) in which a lover carries off a bride on her wedding-day is ‘Lord William,’ otherwise ‘Lord Lundy,’ to be given further on.
A Norse ballad of the same description is ‘Magnus Algotsøn,’ Grundtvig, No 181, III, 734,[121] Syv, No 77,==‘Ungen Essendal,’ Kristensen, Jydske Folkeminder, I, 104, No 41, ‘Hr. Essendal,’ X, 247, No 61, A, B. Syv’s version is translated by Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 335.
Scott’s ballad is translated by Schubart, p. 198, Doenniges, p. 15. Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 65, translates Aytoun.
* * * * *
A
#a.# Herd’s MSS, I, 61, II, 56. #b.# The Aldine edition of Burns’s Poems, by Sir Harris Nicolas, 1839, III, 181, from Burns’s autograph.
1 There livd a lass in yonder dale, And doun in yonder glen, O And Kathrine Jaffray was her name, Well known by many men. O
2 Out came the Laird of Lauderdale, Out frae the South Countrie, All for to court this pretty maid, Her bridegroom for to be.
3 He has teld her father and mither baith, And a’ the rest o her kin, And has teld the lass hersell, And her consent has win.
4 Then came the Laird of Lochinton, Out frae the English border, All for to court this pretty maid, Well mounted in good order.
5 He’s teld her father and mither baith, As I hear sindry say, But he has nae teld the lass her sell, Till on her wedding day.
6 When day was set, and friends were met, And married to be, Lord Lauderdale came to the place, The bridal for to see.
7 ‘O are you came for sport, young man: Or are you come for play? Or are you come for a sight o our bride, Just on her wedding day?’
8 ‘I’m nouther come for sport,’ he says, ‘Nor am I come for play; But if I had one sight o your bride, I’ll mount and ride away.’
9 There was a glass of the red wine Filld up them atween, And ay she drank to Lauderdale, Wha her true-love had been.
10 Then he took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, And he mounted her high behind him there, At the bridegroom he askt nae leive.
11 Then the blude run down by the Cowden Banks, And down by Cowden Braes, And ay she gard the trumpet sound, ‘O this is foul, foul play!’
12 Now a’ ye that in England are, Or are in England born, Come nere to Scotland to court a lass, Or else ye’l get the scorn.
13 They haik ye up and settle ye by, Till on your wedding day, And gie ye frogs instead o fish, And play ye foul, foul play.
* * * * *
B
Herd’s MSS, I, 164, II, 58.
1 The gallant laird of Lamington Cam frae the North Countree To court a gallant gay lady, And wi presents entered he.
2 He neither stood for gould nor gear— For she was a well-fared may— And whan he got her friends’ consent He set the wedding-day.
3 She’s sent unto her first fere love, Gin he would come to see, And he has sent word back again Weel ans_were_d should she be.
4 He has sent a mess_en_g_e_r Right quietly throe the land, Wi mony armed men, To be at his command.
5 The bridegroom looked out at a high window, Beheld baith dool and doon, And there he spied her first fere love, Come riding to the toun.
6 She scoffed and she scorned him, Upo the wedding-day, And said it had been the Fairy Court That he had seen in array.
7 But as he sat at yon table-head, Amo yon gentlemen, And he began to speak some words That na ane there could ken.
8 ‘There is a lass into this town— She is a weel-far’d may— She is another man’s bride today, But she’ll play him foul play.’
9 Up did start the bonny bridegroom, His hat into his hand, . . . . . . . . . . . . .
10 ‘O cam you here, young man, to fight? Or came you here to flee? Or cam you here to drink good wine, And be good company?’
11 They filled a cup o good red wine, Drunk out between them twa: ‘For one dance wi your bonny bride, I shall gae hame my wa.’
12 He’s taen her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, He’s mounted her high behind himself, At her kin’s speired nae leave.
13 Now . . . . . . And swords flew in the skies, And droop and drowsie was the blood Ran our yon lilly braes.
14 The blood ran our the lilly bank, And our the lilly brae, And sighing said the bonny bride, ‘A, wae’s me for foul play!’
15 ‘My blessing on your heart, sweet thing, Wae to your wilfu will! So many a gallant gentleman’s blood This day as ye’ve garred spill.
16 ‘But a’ you that is norland men, If you be norland born, Come never south to wed a bryde, For they’ll play you the scorn.
17 ‘They will play you the scorn Upo your wedding-day, And gie you frogs instead o fish, And do you foul, foul play.’
* * * * *
C
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 30, Abbotsford. Sent Scott by William Laidlaw, in September, 1802; obtained by him from Jean Scott.
1 There leeft a may, an a weel-far’d may, High, high up in yon glen; O Her name was Katarine Janfarie, She was courtit by monie men. O
2 Up then cam Lord Lauderdale, Up thrae the Lawland border, And he has come to court this may, A’ mountit in gude order.
3 He’s telld her father, he’s telld her mother, An a’ the lave o her kin, An he has telld the bonnie lass hersel, An has her favour win.
4 Out then cam Lord Faughanwood, Out frae the English border, An for to court this well-far’d may, A’ mountit in gude order.
5 He telld her father, he telld her mother, An a’ the rest o her kin, But he neer telld the bonnie lass hersell Till on her waddin-een.
6 When they war a’ at denner set, Drinkin the bluid-red wine, ’Twas up then cam Lord Lauderdale, The bridegroom soud hae been.
7 Up then spak Lord Faughanwood, An he spak very slee: ‘O are ye come for sport?’ he says, ‘Or are ye come for play? Or are ye come for a kiss o our bride, An the morn her waddin-day?’
8 ‘O I’m no come for ought,’ he says, ‘But for some sport or play; An ae word o yer bonnie bride, Than I’ll horse an ride away.’
9 She filld a cup o the gude red wine, She filld it to the ee: ‘Here’s a health to you, Lord Lauderdale, An a’ your companie.’
10 She filld a cup o the gude red wine, She filld it to the brim: ‘Here’s a health to you, Lord Lauderdale, My bridegroom should hae been.’
11 He’s taen her by the milk-white hand, And by the gars-green sleeve, An he has mountit her behind him, O the bridegroom spierd nae leave.
12 ‘It’[s] now take yer bride, Lord Faughanwood, Now take her an ye may; But if ye take yer bride again We will ca it foul play.’
13 There war four a twenty bonnie boys, A’ clad i the simple gray; They said the wad take their bride again, By the strang hand an the may.
14 Some o them were fu willin men, But they war na willin a’; Sae four an twentie ladies gay Bade them ride on their way.
15 The bluid ran down by the Cadan bank, An in by the Cadan brae, An ther the gard the piper play It was a’ for foul, foul play.
16 A’ ye lords in fair England That live by the English border, Gang never to Scotland to seek a wife, Or than ye’ll get the scorn.
17 They’ll keep ye up i temper guid Untill yer wadin-day, They’ll thraw ye frogs instead o fish, An steal your bride away.
* * * * *
D
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No. 3, Abbotsford. Sent Scott September 11, 1802, by William Laidlaw; received by him from Mr Bartram of Biggar.
1 There lives a lass into yon bank, She lives hersell alone, Her name is Kathrine Jamphray, Well known by many a one.
2 Than came the Laird of Lamington, It’s frae the West Countrie, And for to court this bonnie may, Her bridegroom hopes to be.
3 He asked at her father, sae did he at her mother, And the chief of all her kin, But still he askd the lass hersell, Till he had her true love won.
4 At length the Laird of Lachenware Came from the English border, And for to court this bonnie bride, Was mounted in good order.
5 He asked at her father, sae did he at her mother, As I heard many say, But he never loot the lassie wit Till on her wedding-day.
6 She sent a spy into the west Where Lamington might be, That an he wad come and meet wi her That she wad with him gae.
7 They taen her on to Lachenware, As they have thought it meet; They taen her on to Lachanware, The wedding to compleat.
8 When they came to Lachanware, And near-han by the town, There was a dinner-making, Wi great mirth and renown.
9 Lamington has mounted twenty-four wiel-wight men, Well mounted in array, And he’s away to see his bonnie bride, Just on her wedding-day.
10 When she came out into the green, Amang her company, Says, ‘Lamington and Lachanware This day shall fight for me.’
11 When he came to Lachanware, And lighted on the green, There was a cup of good red wine Was filled them between, And ay she drank to Lamington, Her former love who’d been.
12 It’s out and spake the bridegroom, And a angrie man was he: ‘It’s wha is this, my bonnie bride, That ye loe better than me?
13 ‘It’s came you here for sport, young man? Or came you here for play? Or came you for a sight of my bonnie bride, Upon her wedding-day?’
14 ‘I came not here for sport,’ he says, ‘Nor came I here for play; But an I had ae word of your bride, I’ll horse and gae my way.’
15 The first time that he calld on her, Her answer was him Nay; But the next time that he calld on her, She was not slow to gae.
16 He took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, He’s pulld her on behind him, At the bridegroom speard nae leave.
17 The blood ran up the Caden bank, And down the Caden brae, And ay she bade the trumpet sound ‘It’s a’ for foul, foul play.’
18 ‘I wonder o you English squires, That are in England born, That ye come to court our Scots lasses, For fear ye get the scorn.
19 ‘For fear you get the scorn,’ she says, ‘Upon y_ou_r wedding-day; They’ll gee you frogs instead of fish, And take your bride away.’
20 Fair fa the lads of Lamington, Has taen their bride away! They’ll set them up in temper wood And scorn you all day.
* * * * *
E
Skene MS., p. 81; taken down in the north of Scotland, 1802–3.
1 Bonny Cathrin Jaffray, That proper maid sae fare, She has loved young Lochinvar, She made him no compare.
2 He courted her the live-long winter-night, Sae has he the simmer’s day; He has courted her sae long Till he sta her heart away.
3 But the lusty laird of Lamendall Came frae the South Country, An for to gain this lady’s love In entreid he.
4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . He has gained her friends’ consent, An sett the wedding-day.
5 The wedding-day it being set, An a’ man to it . . . , She sent for her first fair love, The wedding to come to.
6 His father an his mother came, . . . . . . . They came a’, but he came no; It was a foul play.
7 Lochinvar, as his comrads Sat drinkine at the wine, [‘Fie] on you,’ said his comrads, ‘Tak yer bride for shame.
8 ‘Had she been mine, as she was yours, An done as she has done to you, I wad tak her on her bridal-day, Fra a’ her companie.
9 ‘Fra a’ her companie, Without any other stay; I wad gie them frogs insted o fish, An tak their bride away.’
10 He gat fifty young men, They were gallant and gay, An fifty maidens, An left them on a lay.
11 Whan he cam in by Callien bank, An in by Callien brae, He left his company Dancing on a lay.
12 He cam to the bridal-house, An in entred he; . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
13 ‘There was a young man in this place Loved well a comly may, But the day she gaes an ither man’s bride, An played him foul play.
14 ‘Had it been me as it was him, An don as she has don him tee, I wad ha geen them frogs instead o fish, An taen their bride away.’
15 The English spiered gin he wad fight; It spak well in his mind; . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
16 ‘It was no for fightin I cam here, But to bear good fellowship; Gae me a glass wi your bridegroom, An so I go my way.’
17 The glass was filled o guid red wine, . . . between them twa: ‘Man, man I see yer bride, An so I gae my waa.’
18 He was on guid horseback, An whipt the bride him wi; She grat an wrang her hands, An said, ‘It is foul play.
19 . . . . . . . ‘An this I dare well say, For this day I gaed anither man’s bride, An it’s been foul play.’
20 But now sh’s Lochinvar’s wife, . . . . . . . He gaed them frogs instead o fish, An tain their bride away.
* * * * *
F
Kinloch MSS, V, 315, in the handwriting of John Hill Burton.
1 Bonny Catherine Janferry, The dainty dame so fair, She’s faun in love wi young Lochinvar, And she loved him without compare.
2 She loved him well, and wondrous well To change her mind away; But the day she goes another man’s bride, And plays him foul play.
3 Home came the Laird o Lauderdale, A’ from the South Countree, And a’ to court this weel-fart may, And I wat good tent took he.
4 Gold nor gear he did no spare, She was so fair a may, And he agreed wi her friends all, And set the wedding-day.
5 She sent for her first true-love, Her wedding to come tee; His father and his mother both, They were to come him wi.
6 His father and his mother both, They were to come him wi; And they came both, and he came no, And this was foul play.
7 He’s sent a quiet messenger Now out thro a’ the land, To warn a hundred gentlemen, O gallant and good renown.
8 O gallant and good renown, And all o good aray, And now he’s made his trumpet soun A voss o foul play.
9 As they came up by Caley buss, And in by Caley brae, ‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men, Stay still, if that you may.
10 ‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men, Stay still, if that you may; I’ll go to the bridal-house, And see what they will say.’
11 When he gaed to the bridal-house, And lighted and gaed in, There were four and twenty English lords, O gallant and good renown.
12 O gallant and good renown, And all o good aray, But aye he garred his trumpets soun A voss o foul play.
13 When he was at the table set, Amang these gentlemen, He begoud to vent some words They couldna understan.
14 The English lords, they waxed wroth What could be in his mind; They stert to foot, on horseback lap, ‘Come fecht! what’s i your mind?’
15 ‘I came na here to feght,’ he said, ‘But for good sport and play; And one glass wi yer bonny bridegroom, And I’ll go boun away.’
16 The glass was filled o good reed wine, And drunken atween the twa; ‘And one glass wi your bonny bride, And I’se go boun away.’
17 Her maiden she stood forbye, And quickly she said, ‘Nay I winna gee a word o her To none nor yet to thee.’
18 ‘Oh, one word o yer bonny bride! Will ye refuse me one? Before her wedding-day was set, I would hae gotten ten.
19 ‘Take here my promise, maiden, My promise and my hand, Out oer her father’s gates this day Wi me she shanna gang.’
20 He’s bent him oer his saddle-bow, To kiss her ere he gaed, And he fastened his hand in her gown-breast, And tust her him behind.
21 He pat the spurs into his horse And fast rade out at the gate; Ye wouldna hae seen his yellow locks For the dust o his horse feet.
22 Fast has he ridden the wan water, And merrily taen the know, And then the battle it began; I’me sure it was na mow.
23 Bridles brack, and weight horse lap, And blades flain in the skies, And wan and drousie was the blood Gaed lapperin down the lays.
24 Now all ye English lords, In England where ye’r borne, Come never to Scotland to woo a bride, For they’le gie you the scorn.
25 For they’le gie you the scorn, The scorn, if that they may; They’ll gie you frogs instead of fish, And steal your bride away.
* * * * *
G
Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 34.
1 O bonny Catharine Jaffery, That dainty maid so fair, Once lovd the laird of Lochinvar, Without any compare.
2 Long time she lood him very well, But they changed her mind away, And now she goes another’s bride, And plays him foul play.
3 The bonny laird of Lauderdale Came from the South Countrie, And he has wooed the pretty maid, Thro presents entered he.
4 For tocher-gear he did not stand, She was a dainty may; He ‘greed him with her friends all, And set the wedding-day.
5 When Lochinvar got word of this, He knew not what to do, For losing of a lady fair That he did love so true.
6 ‘But if I were young Lochinvar, I woud not care a fly To take her on her wedding-day From all her company.
7 ‘Get ye a quiet messenger, Send him thro all your land For a hundred and fifty brave young lads, To be at your command.
8 ‘To be all at your command, And your bidding to obey, Yet still cause you the trumpet sound The voice of foul play.’
9 He got a quiet messenger To send thro all his land, And full three hundred pretty lads Were all at his command.
10 Were all at his command, And his bidding did obey, Yet still he made the trumpet sound The voice of foul play.
11 Then he went to the bridal-house. Among the nobles a’, And when he stepped upon the floor He gave a loud huzza.
12 ‘Huzza! huzza! you English men, Or borderers who were born, Neer come to Scotland for a maid, Or else they will you scorn.
13 ‘She’ll bring you on with tempting words, Aye till the wedding-day, Syne give you frogs instead of fish, And play you foul play.’
14 The gentlemen all wondered What could be in his mind, And asked if he’d a mind to fight; Why spoke he so unkind?
15 Did he e’er see such pretty men As were there in array? ‘O yes,’ said he, ‘a Fairy Court Were leaping on the hay.
16 ‘As I came in by Hyland banks, And in by Hyland braes, There did I see a Fairy Court, All leaping on the leas.
17 ‘I came not here to fight,’ he said, ‘But for good fellowship gay; I want to drink with your bridegroom, And then I’ll boun my way.’
18 The glass was filled with good red wine, And drunk between them twae: ‘Give me one shake of your bonny bride’s hand, And then I’ll boun my way.’
19 He’s taen her by the milk-white hands, And by the grass-green sleeve, Pulld her on horseback him behind, At her friends askd nae leave.
20 Syne rode the water with great speed, And merrily the knows; There fifty from the bridal came— Indeed it was nae mows—
21 Thinking to take the bride again, Thro strength if that they may; But still he gart the trumpet sound The voice of foul play.
22 There were four and twenty ladies fair All walking on the lea; He gave to them the bonny bride, And bade them boun their way.
23 They splintered the spears in pieces now, And the blades flew in the sky, But the bonny laird of Lochinvar Has gained the victory.
24 Many a wife- and widow’s son Lay gasping on the ground, But the bonny laird of Lochinvar He has the victory won.
* * * * *
H
Kinloch MSS, V, 313.
1 There was a lady fair, fair, Lived low down in yon glen, O And she’s been courted far an near By several gentlemen. O
2 At length the laird of Lammington Came frae the West Country, All to court that pretty girl, And her bridegroom for to be.
3 He told her father, so did he her mother, And all the rest of her kin, And he has told the lass hersel, And her kind favour has won.
4 At length the laird of Laughenwaur Came frae the English border, And all to court that pretty girl, Well mounted in good order.
5 He told her father, so did he her mother, As I heard people say, But he ner told the lass hersel, Till on her wedding-day.
6 But when the wedding-day was fixed, And married for to be, Then Lamington came to the town, The bridegroom for to see.
7 ‘O are ye come for sport, sir?’ he said, ‘Or are ye come for play? Or are ye for a sight o my bonny bride, Upon her wedding-day?’
8 ‘A ‘m neither come for sport, sir,’ he said, ‘Nor am I come for play, But if I had one word o the bride I’d mount and go away.’
9 There was a cup of the good red wine Was filled out them between, And aye she drank to Lammington, Who her true-love had been.
10 He’s taen her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve; He’s mounted her behind him then, At the bridegroom speered no leave.
11 The blood ran down by Cowden banks, And down by Cowden brae, And aye they gaured the piper play ‘It was a foul, foul play.’
12 Ye gentlemen of Lochenwaur, That’s laigh in England born, Come ner to Scotland to court a wife, Or be sure ye’l get the scorn.
13 The’ll keep ye up, and tamper ye at, Until yer wedding-day, And they’l gie ye frogs instead o fish, And they’ll play ye a foul play.
* * * * *
I
Motherwell’s MS., p. 327, “from the recitation of Robert Sim, weaver, in Paisley, 16 July, 1825. It was a song of his father’s, a great reciter of heroick ballads.”
1 In Bordershellin there did dwell A comely, handsome may, And Lochinvar he courted her, And stole her heart away.
2 She loved him but owre weel, And his love drew away; Another man then courted her, And set the wedding-day,
3 They set the wedding-day so plain, As plain as it might be; She sent a letter to her former love, The wedding to come see.
4 When Lochinvar the letter read, He sent owre a’ his land For four and twenty beltit knichts, To come at his command.
5 They all came to his hand, I say, Upon that wedding-day; He set them upon milk-white steeds, And put them in array.
6 He set them in array, I say, Most pleasant to be seen, And he’s awa to the wedding-house, A single man his lane.
7 And when he was to the wedding-house come, They were all sitten down; Baith gentlemen and knichts was there, And lords of high renown.
8 They saluted him, baith auld and young, Speired how he had spent the day, And what young Lankashires was yon They saw all in array.
9 But he answerd them richt scornfullie, Upon their wedding-day; He says, It’s been some Fairy Court Ye’ve seen all in array.
10 Then rose up the young bridegroom, And an angry man was he: ‘Lo, art thou come to fight, young man? Indeed I’ll fight wi thee.’
11 ‘O I am not come to fight,’ he sayd, ‘But good fellowship to hae, And for to drink the wine sae red, And then I’ll go away.’
12 Then they filld him up a brimming glass, And drank it between them twa: ‘Now one word of your bonnie bride, And then I’ll go my wa.’
13 But some were friends, and some were faes, Yet nane o them was free To let the bride on her wedding-day Gang out o their companie.
14 But he took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, And set her on a milk-white steed, And at nane o them speerd he leave.
15 Then the blood ran down the Caylin bank, And owre the Caylin brae; The auld folks knew something o the sport, Which gart them cry, Foul play!
16 Ye lusty lads of Limberdale, Tho ye be English born, Come nae mair to Scotland to court a maid, For fear ye get the scorn.
17 For fear that ye do get the scorn Upon your wedding-day; Least ye catch frogs instead of fish, And then ye’ll ca’t foul play.
* * * * *
J
Motherwell’s MS., p. 75, from the recitation of Mrs Thomson, an old woman of Kilbarchan.
1 There was a lass, as I heard say, Lived low down in a glen; Her name was Catharine Johnson, Weel known to many men.
2 Doun cam the laird o Lamingtoun, Doun frae the South Countrie, And he is for this bonnie lass, Her bridegroom for to be.
3 He’s askd her father and mother, The chief of a’ her kin, And then he askd the bonnie lass, And did her favour win.
4 Doun cam an English gentleman, Doun frae the English border; He is for this bonnie lass, To keep his house in order.
5 He askd her father and mother, As I do hear them say, But he never askd the lass hersell, Till on her wedding-day.
6 But she has wrote a lang letter, And sealed it wi her hand, And sent it to Lord Lamington, To let him understand.
7 The first line o the letter he read, He was baith glad and fain; But or he read the letter owre He was baith pale and wan.
8 Then he has sent a messenger, And out through all his land, And four-and-twenty armed men Was all at his command.
9 But he has left his merry men, Left them on the lea; And he’s awa to the wedding-house, To see what he could see.
10 But when he came to the wedding-house, As I do understand, There were four-and-twenty belted knights Sat at a table round.
11 They rose all for to honour him, For he was of high renown; They rose all for to welcome him, And bade him to sit doun.
12 O meikle was the good red wine In silver cups did flow, But aye she drank to Lamingtoun, For with him would she go.
13 O meikle was the good red wine In silver cups gaed round; At length they began to whisper words, None could them understand.
14 ‘O came ye here for sport, young man? Or cam ye here for play? Or cam ye for our bonnie bride, On this her wedding-day?’
15 ‘I came not here for sport,’ he said, ‘Neither did I for play; But for one word o your bonnie bride I’ll mount and ride away.’
16 They set her maids behind her, To hear what they would say, But the first question he askd at her Was always [answered] nay; The next question he askd at her Was, ‘Mount and come away.’
17 It’s up the Couden bank, And doun the Couden brae; And aye she made the trumpet sound, ‘It’s a weel won play.’
18 O meikle was the blood was shed Upon the Couden brae; And aye she made the trumpet sound, ‘It’s a’ fair play.’
19 Come, all ye English gentlemen, That is of England born, Come nae doun to Scotland, For fear ye get the scorn.
20 They’ll feed ye up wi flattering words, And that’s foul play; And they’ll dress ye frogs instead o fish, Just on your wedding-day.
* * * * *
K
Buchan’s Gleanings of Scotch, English and Irish Scarce Old Ballads, 1825, pp. 74, 193; “taken down from oral tradition.”
1 There lives a lass in yonder dale, In yon bonny borrows-town, Her name it is Catherine Jeffrey, She is loved by mony a ane.
2 Lord Lochinvar has courted her These twelve months and a day; With flattering words and fair speeches He has stown her heart away.
3 There came a knight from south sea-bank, From north England I mean, He alighted at her father’s yetts, His stile is Lord Lymington.
4 He has courted her father and moth Her kinsfolk ane and aye, But he never told the lady hersell Till he set the wedding-day.
5 ‘Prepare, prepare, my daughter dear, Prepare, to you I say; For the night it is good Wednesday night, And the morn is your wedding-day.’
6 ‘O tell to me, father,’ she said, ‘O tell me who it is wi; For I’ll never wed a man on earth Till I know what he be.’
7 ‘He’s come a knight from the south sea-bank. From north England I mean, For when he lighted at my yetts, His stile is Lord Lymington.’
8 ‘O where will I get a bonny boy Will win baith meet and fee, And will run on to Lochinvar And come again to me?’
9 ‘O here am I, a bonny boy That will win baith hose and sheen, And will run on to Lochinvar, And come right seen again.’
10 ‘Where ye find the brigs broken, Bend your bow and swim; Where ye find the grass growing, Slack your bow and run.
11 ‘When ye come on to Lochinvar, Byde not to chap nor ca, But set your bent bow to your breast And lightly loup the wa.
12 ‘Bid him mind the words he last spake, When we sendered on the lee; Bid him saddle and ride full fast, If he be set for me.’
13 Where he found the brigs broken, He bent his bow and swam; Where he found the grass growing, He slackt his bow and ran.
14 When he came on to Lochinvar, He did not chap nor ca; He set his bent bow till his breast And lightly leapt the wa.
15 ‘What news? what news, my bonny boy? What news have ye to me?’ ‘Bad news, bad news, my lord,’ he said, ‘Your lady awa will be.
16 ‘You’r bidden mind the words ye last spake, When we sendered on the lee; You’r bidden saddle and ride full fast, Gin ye set for her be.’
17 When he came to her father’s yetts, There he alighted down; The cups of gold of good red wine Were going roun and roun.
18 ‘Now came ye here for sport?’ they said, ‘Or came ye here for play? Or for a sight of our bonny bride, And then to boun your way? ’
19 ‘I came not here for sport,’ he says, ‘Nor came I here for play, But if I had a sight of your bonny bride Then I will boun my way.’
20 When Lymington he called on her, She would not come at a’, But Lochinvar he called on her, And she was not sweer to draw.
21 He has taen her by the milk-white hand, And by her silken sleeve, He has mounted her high him behind, He spiered nae mair their leave. 22 And aye she scoffed and scorned them, And aye she rode away, And aye she gart the trumpet sound The voice of foul play, To take the bride frae her bridegroom Upon her wedding-day.
23 As they came in by Foudlin dyke, And in by Foudlin stane, There were mony gallant Englishmen Lay gasping on the green.
24 Now a’ you that are English lords, And are in England born, Come never here to court your brides, For fear ye get the scorn.
25 For aye they’ll scoff and scorn you, And aye they’ll ride away; They’ll gie you frogs instead of fish, And call it foul play.
* * * * *
L
Macmath MS., p. 72, communicated January 13, 1883, by Dr Robert Trotter, as remembered from the recitation of his father, Dr Robert Trotter, of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire.
1 They askëd him and speirëd him, And unto him did say, ‘O saw ye ocht o an armed band, As ye cam on your way?’
2 He jested them and jeerëd them, And thus to them did say, ‘O I saw nocht but a fairy troop, As I rode on my way.’
* * * * *
#A.#
#a.#
The second copy has some different spellings, and drops the second the in 11^1. 3, 5 are 5, 3 in both. Sense requires the change: cf. also #F# 5, #H# 5, #I# 4.
#b.#
1^4. to many. 3==the MS. 3. 4^4. All mounted.
#B.#
The first copy is written in long lines (two to a stanza); neither is divided into stanzas. There are differences of spelling. 3^1, 5^3, fere seems to be meant for fair: cf. #C# 5^3. 4^4. At her, both: cf. #E# 7, #G# 4, #H# 8. 5^2. Both copies have doom. 5^2, 15^4. First, behold, garned, in my copy, probably by error. Second, beheld, gard.
The second copy has these variations. 2^3. got the. 3^1, 5^3. fere wanting. 15^1. thing wanting. 16^1. that are.
The first edition of the ballad in Scott’s Minstrelsy is made up as follows (it being remembered that the editor did not profess or practice a servile fidelity in the treatment of his materials): #B# 1–6; #B# 10, #A# 7; #A# 8, #B# 11; #A# 9; #B# 12; #B# 13 (but mostly Scott’s); #A# 11, #B# 14; #B# 15; #B# 16; #A# 13.
12 of these 15 stanzas are repeated in the later edition; the new stanzas in that copy are 1–5, 14–16, 20. These are substantially #C# 1–5, 12–14, 16.
Some variations will be noticed under #C#.
#C.#
O, the tag to the second and fourth lines, is not written in 2, 4, 16^2, 17^4.
1^2. into written over up.
2^4. Weel in the margin against A’.
3^2. rest struck out before lave.
4^1. Up struck out before Out. Faughan Wood, here and 7^1; in 12^1, Faughan Wood.
7^1. Up the then.
9^1. gude struck out before red, and red written over.
15^1. Originally down by; down struck out.
15^2. Originally in by; in struck out. These last two changes, and others, seem to be editorial.
1–5, 12–14, 16, with variations, are 1–5, 14–16, 20 of the later edition of the ballad in Scott’s Minstrelsy. Slight alterations, such as Scott was accustomed to make, do not require notice.
Scott, 3^{1,2}. He told na in the Minstrelsy: almost certainly an arbitrary change, and not a good one, since it makes the hardship to Lauderdale the less.
4^1. Lochinvar (also in 14^1) for Lord Faughanwood; introduced from #D#.
15^2. clad in the Johnstone grey: for which no authority is known.
16^3. Leader lads for ladies gay: probably a conjectural emendation.
20^4. For fear of sic disorder: presumably a change for rhyme, disorder suggested by 2^4.
#D.#
9^1. 24.
12^1. It’s is of later insertion, perhaps editorial.
14^1. I came not here: obscured in the process of binding.
20. This must be a mixture of two stanzas. The third line has no sense, and is not much improved by reading temper good, as in #C# 17^1.
#E.#
Written mostly in long lines, without separation of stanzas, sometimes without a proper separation of verses. The division here made is partly conjectural.
2^1. She courted him.
3^4. entreid or entried: indistinct.
6, 7^{1,2}. His father an his mother came they came a but he came no It was a foul play Lochinvar As his comrades sat drinkine at the wine
7^3. ... on.
13^2. Lodged for Loved.
16^3. Gae man glass me your.
17^{2,3}. between them tva man Man I see, etc.
#F.#
23^1. We have had a similar verse in the north-Scottish version of ‘Hugh Spencer,’ No 158, #C# 11: O bridles brak and great horse lap.
#H.#
11^4. It was awful foul foul play. Awful was probably a misunderstanding of a foul.
#I.#
8^3. Lank-a-Shires.
14^3. He is written over And.
15^1. bank, the original reading, is changed to heuch.
#J.#
12^1. Oh.
15^4. go is written over ride. Motherwell made two slight changes in his printed copy.
#K.#
1^4. my mony.
2^1. Loch-in-var; and always.
3^1. South sea bank.
7^1. the South sea bank.
10^3. For for Where: probably a misprint, perhaps a preservation of the northern f for wh.
13^3. the brigs broken, wrongly repeated.
16^2. When we, preserved from 12^2.
23^3. Englishman.
#L.#
“The story of the ballad was that Lochinvar went to Netherby with a band of men dressed in green, whom he concealed near the tower, and with whose assistance he forcibly abducted the young lady.”
222
BONNY BABY LIVINGSTON
#A.# ‘Bonny Baby Livingston.’ #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS. #b.# Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, II, 135.
#B.# ‘Barbara Livingston,’ Buchan’s MSS, I, 77.
#C.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 375; ‘Barbara Livingston,’ Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 304.
#D.# ‘Annie Livingston,’ Campbell MSS, II, 254.
#E.# ‘Baby Livingstone,’ Kinloch MSS, V, 355.
Mrs Brown was not satisfied with #A b#, which Jamieson had taken down from her mouth, and after a short time she sent him #A a#. The verbal differences are considerable. We need not suppose that Mrs Brown had heard two “sets” or “ways,” of which she blended the readings; the fact seems to be that, at the time when she recited to Jamieson, she was not in good condition to remember accurately.
#A a.# Glenlion carries off Barbara Livingston from Dundee and takes her to the Highlands. She is in a stupor of grief. Glenlion folds her in his arms, and says that he would give all his flocks and herds for a kind look. She tells him that he shall never get look or smile unless he takes her back to Dundee; and he her that she shall never see Dundee till he has married her. His brother John tries to dissuade him; he himself would scorn a hand without a heart; but Glenlion has long loved her, and is resolved to keep her, nevertheless. Glenlion’s three sisters receive Baby kindly, and the youngest begs her to disclose the cause of her grief. Baby tells the sympathetic Jean that she has been stolen from her friends and from her lover, and obtains not only the means of writing a letter to Johny Hay, the lover, but a swift-footed boy to carry it to Dundee. Johny Hay, with a band of armed men, makes all speed to Glenlion’s castle. He calls to Baby to jump, and he will catch her; she, more prudently, slips down on her sheets; her lover takes her on his horse and rides away. Glenlion hears the ring of a bridle and thinks it is the priest come to marry him. His brother corrects the mistake; there are armed men at the castle-gate, and it turns out that there are enough of them to deter Glenlion’s Highlanders from an attack. So Johny Hay conveys Baby Livingstone safely back to Dundee.
The other versions give the story a tragical catastrophe. In #B#, Barbara is forced into Glenlion’s bed. Afterwards she exclaims that if she had paper and pen she would write to her lover in Dundee. No difficulty seems to be made; she writes her letter, and sends it by the ever-ready boy. Geordie, lying in a window, sees the boy, asks for news, and is told that his love is stolen by Glenlion. He orders his horse, in fact three horses, and also a mourning hat and cloak; but though he tires out all three horses, his love is dead before he reaches Glenlion. This copy is pieced out with all sorts of commonplaces from other ballads: see 9 (which is nonsense), 10, 13, 14, 19, 21, 23, 25, 27, 29, 30.
#C# is a briefer, that is, an unfarced, form of #B#. Glenlion is corrupted to Linlyon.
#D# has its commonplaces again. For Barbara we have Annie, and Glendinning for Glenlion, and a brother Jemmy instead of a lover. In #E# the ravisher is Lochell.
Dr Joseph Robertson in his Adversaria, MS., p. 87, gives these two lines of ‘Baby Livingston:’
O bony Baby Livingston Was playin at the ba.[122]
The kidnapping of women for a compulsory marriage was a practice which prevailed for hundreds of years, and down to a late date, and, of course, not only in Great Britain. The unprotected female, especially if she had any property, must have been in a state of miserable insecurity, and even a convent was far from furnishing her an asylum. See for England, in the first half of the fifteenth century, Beamont’s Annals of the Lords of Warrington, pp. 256–61 and 265 f.; for Scotland, in the same century and the two following, Sharpe’s Ballad Book, p. 99 ff., R. Chambers’s Domestic Annals of Scotland, 1858, I, 223–5, 415 f.; for Ireland, Froude, The English in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century, 1872, I, 417 ff. Other Scottish ballads celebrating similar abductions are ‘Eppie Morrie,’ ‘The Lady of Arngosk,’ and ‘Rob Roy,’ which immediately follow.[123]
#A b# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 126, No 18.
* * * * *
A
#a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. xii, sent by Mrs Brown to Jamieson, in a letter dated September 15, 1800. #b.# Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, II, 135, as taken from Mrs Brown’s recitation a short time before a was written down.
1 O bonny Baby Livingston Went forth to view the hay, And by it came him Glenlion, Sta bonny Baby away.
2 O first he’s taen her silken coat, And neest her satten gown, Syne rowd her in a tartan plaid, And hapd her round and rown.
3 He has set her upon his steed And roundly rode away, And neer loot her look back again The live-long summer’s day.
4 He’s carried her oer hills and muirs Till they came to a Highland glen, And there he’s met his brother John, With twenty armed men.
5 O there were cows, and there were ewes, And lasses milking there, But Baby neer anse lookd about, Her heart was filld wi care.
6 Glenlion took her in his arms, And kissd her, cheek and chin; Says, I’d gie a’ these cows and ewes But ae kind look to win.
7 ‘O ae kind look ye neer shall get, Nor win a smile frae me, Unless to me you’ll favour shew, And take me to Dundee.’
8 ‘Dundee, Baby? Dundee, Baby? Dundee you neer shall see Till I’ve carried you to Glenlion And have my bride made thee.
9 ‘We’ll stay a while at Auchingour, And get sweet milk and cheese, And syne we’ll gang to Glenlion, And there live at our ease.’
10 ‘I winna stay at Auchingour, Nor eat sweet milk and cheese, Nor go with thee to Glenlion, For there I’ll neer find ease.’
11 Than out it spake his brother John, ‘O were I in your place, I’d take that lady hame again, For a’ her bonny face.
12 ‘Commend me to the lass that’s kind, Tho na so gently born; And, gin her heart I coudna gain, To take her hand I’d scorn.’
13 ‘O had your tongue now, John,’ he says, ‘You wis na what you say; For I’ve lood that bonny face This twelve month and a day.
14 ‘And tho I’ve lood her lang and sair A smile I neer coud win; Yet what I’ve got anse in my power To keep I think nae sin.’
15 When they came to Glenlion castle, They lighted at the yate, And out it came his sisters three, Wha did them kindly greet.
16 O they’ve taen Baby by the hands And led her oer the green, And ilka lady spake a word, But bonny Baby spake nane.
17 Then out it spake her bonny Jean, The youngest o the three, ‘O lady, dinna look sae sad, But tell your grief to me.’
18 ‘O wherefore should I tell my grief, Since lax I canna find? I’m stown frae a’ my kin and friends, And my love I left behind.
19 ‘But had I paper, pen, and ink, Before that it were day, I yet might get a letter sent In time to Johny Hay.’
20 O she’s got paper, pen, and ink, And candle that she might see, And she has written a broad letter To Johny at Dundee.
21 And she has gotten a bonny boy, That was baith swift and strang, Wi philabeg and bonnet blue, Her errand for to gang.
22 ‘O boy, gin ye’d my blessing win And help me in my need, Run wi this letter to my love, And bid him come wi speed.
23 ‘And here’s a chain of good red gowd, And gowdn guineas three, And when you’ve well your errand done, You’ll get them for your fee.’
24 The boy he ran oer hill and dale. Fast as a bird coud flee, And eer the sun was twa hours height The boy was at Dundee.
25 And when he came to Johny’s door He knocked loud and sair; Then Johny to the window came, And loudly cry’d, ‘Wha’s there?’
26 ‘O here’s a letter I have brought, Which ye maun quickly read, And, gin ye woud your lady save, Gang back wi me wi speed.’
27 O when he had the letter read, An angry man was he; He says, Glenlion, thou shalt rue This deed of villany!
28 ‘O saddle to me the black, the black, O saddle to me the brown, O saddle to me the swiftest steed That eer rade frae the town.
29 ‘And arm ye well, my merry men a’. And follow me to the glen, For I vow I’ll neither eat nor sleep Till I get my love again.’
30 He’s mounted on a milk-white steed, The boy upon a gray, And they got to Glenlion’s castle About the close of day.
31 As Baby at her window stood, The west wind saft did bla; She heard her Johny’s well-kent voice Beneath the castle wa.
32 ‘O Baby, haste, the window jump! I’ll kep you in my arm; My merry men a’ are at the yate, To rescue you frae harm.’
33 She to the window fixt her sheets And slipped safely down, And Johny catchd her in his arms, Neer loot her touch the ground.
34 When mounted on her Johny’s horse, Fou blithely did she say, ‘Glenlion, you hae lost your bride! She’s aff wi Johny Hay.’
35 Glenlion and his brother John Were birling in the ha, When they heard Johny’s bridle ring, As first he rade awa.
36 ‘Rise, Jock, gang out and meet the priest, I hear his bridle ring; My Baby now shall be my wife Before the laverocks sing.’
37 ‘O brother, this is not the priest; I fear he’ll come oer late; For armed men with shining brands Stand at the castle-yate.’
38 ‘Haste Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh! Haste, take your sword and spier! We’ll gar these traytors rue the hour That eer they ventured here.’
39 The Highland men drew their claymores, And gae a warlike shout, But Johny’s merry men kept the yate, Nae ane durst venture out.
40 The lovers rade the live-lang night, And safe gat on their way, And bonny Baby Livingston Has gotten Johny Hay.
41 ‘Awa, Glenlion! fy for shame! Gae hide ye in some den! You’ve lettn your bride be stown frae you. For a’ your armed men.’
* * * * *
B
Buchan’s MSS, I, 77.
1 Bonny Barbara Livingston Went out to take the air, When came the laird o Glenlyon And staw the maiden fair.
2 He staw her in her cloak, her cloak, He staw her in her gown; Before he let her look again, Was mony mile frae town.
3 So they rade over hills and dales, Through m[o]ny a wilsome way, Till they came to the head o yon hill, And showed her ewes and kye.
4 ‘O will ye stay with me, Barbara, And get good curds and whey? Or will ye go to Glenlyon, And be a lady gay?’
5 ‘The Highlands is nae for me, kind sir, The Highlands is nae for me, But, gin ye woud my favour win, Have me to bonny Dundee.’
6 ‘Dundee, Barbara? Dundee, Barbara? That town ye’se never see; I’ll hae you to a finer place Than eer was in Dundee.’
7 But when she came to Glenlyon, And lighted on the green, Every lady spake Earse to her, But Barbara could speak nane.
8 When they were all at dinner set, And placed the table round, Every one took some of it, But Barbara took nane.
9 She put it to her cheek, her cheek, She put it to her chin, And put it to her rosey lips, But neer a bit gaed in.
10 When day was gone, and night was come, And a’ man bound for bed, Glenlyon and that fair lady To one chamber were laid.
11 ‘O strip, O strip, my love,’ he said, ‘O strip and lay you down;’ ‘How can I strip? How can I strip, To bed wi an unco man?’
12 He’s taen out his little pen-knife, And he slit down her gown, And cut her stays behind her back, And forc’d her to lie down.
13 ‘O day, dear sir! O day, dear sir! O dear! if it were day, And me upon my father’s steed, I soon shoud ride away.’
14 ‘Your father’s steed is in my stable, Eating good corn and hay, And ye are in my arms twa; What needs you lang for day?’
15 ‘If I had paper, pens, and ink, And light that I may see, I woud write a broad, broad letter To my love in Dundee.’
16 They brought her paper, pen, and ink, And light that she might see, And she has written a broad letter To her love in Dundee.
17 And aye she wrote, and aye she grat, The saut tear blinded her ee; And aye at every verse’s end, ‘Haste, my bonny love, to me!’
18 ‘If I had but a little wee boy, Would work for meat and fee, Would go and carry this letter To my love in Dundee!’
19 ‘O here am I, a little wee boy Will work for meat and fee, Will go and carry that letter To your love in Dundee.’
20 Upstarts the morn, the boy he ran Oer mony a hill and dale, And he wan on to bonny Dundee About the hour o twall.
21 There Geordy oer a window lay, Beholding dale and down; And he beheld a little wee boy Come running to the town.
22 ‘What news? what news, my little wee boy, You run sae hastilie?’ ‘Your love is stown by Glenlyon, And langs your face to see.’
23 ‘Gae saddle to me the black, the black, Gae saddle to me the brown; Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed Will hae me to the town.
24 ‘Get me my hat, dyed o the black, My mourning-mantle tee, And I will on to Glenlyon, See my love ere she die.’
25 First he tired the black, the black, And then he tired the brown, And next he tired the swiftest steed Ere he wan to the town.
26 But for as fast as her love rade, And as fast as he ran, Before he wan to Glenlyon His love was dead and gane.
27 Then he has kissd her cheek, her cheek, And he has kissd her chin, And he has kissd her comely mouth, But no life was therein.
28 ‘O wae mat worth you, Glenlyon, An ill death mat ye die! Ye’ve twind me and the fairest flower My eyes did ever see.
29 ‘But I will kiss your cheek, Barbara, And I will kiss your chin, And I will kiss your comely mouth, But neer woman’s again.
30 ‘Deal well, deal well at my love’s lyke The beer but and the wine, For ere the morn at this same time Ye’ll deal the same at mine.’
* * * * *
C
Motherwell’s MS., p. 375, from the recitation of Agnes Lyle of Kilbarchan.
1 Four-and-twenty ladies fair Was playing at the ba, And out cam Barbra Livingston, The flower amang them a’.
2 Out cam Barbra Livingston, The flower amang them a’; The lusty laird of Linlyon Has stown her clean awa.
3 ‘The Hielands is no for me, kind sir, The Hielands is no for me; But, if you wud my favour win, You’ll tak me to Dundee.’
4 ‘The Hielands’ll be for thee, my dear, The Hielands will be for thee; To the lusty laird o Linlyon A-married ye shall be.’
5 When they came to Linlyon’s yetts, And lichted on the green, Every ane spak Earse to her, The tears cam trinkling down.
6 When they went to bed at nicht, To Linlyon she did say, ‘Och and alace, a weary nicht! Oh, but it’s lang till day!’
7 ‘Your father’s steed in my stable, He’s eating corn and hay, And you’re lying in my twa arms; What need you long for day?’
8 ‘If I had paper, pen, and ink, And candle for to see, I wud write a lang letter To my love in Dundee.’
9 They brocht her paper, pen, and ink, And candle for to see, And she did write a lang letter To her love in Dundee.
10 When he cam to Linlyon’s yetts, And lichtit on the green, But lang or he wan up the stair His love was dead and gane.
11 ‘Woe be to thee, Linlyon, An ill death may thou die! Thou micht hae taen anither woman, And let my lady be.’
* * * * *
D
Campbell MSS, II, 254.
1 Bonnie Annie Livingstone Was walking out the way, By came the laird of Glendinning, And he’s stolen her away. The Highlands are no for me, kind sir, The Highlands are no for me, And, if you wad my favour win, You’d take me to Dundee.
2 He mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon a grey, He’s taen her to the Highland hills, And stolen her quite away.
3 When they came to Glendinning gate, They lighted on the green; There many a Highland lord spoke free, But fair Annie she spake nane.
4 When bells were rung, and mass begun, And a’ men bound for bed, Bonnie Annie Livingstone Was in her chamber laid.
5 ‘O gin it were but day, kind sir! O gin it were but day! O gin it were but day, kind sir, That I might win away!’
6 ‘Your steed stands in the stall, bonnie Ann, Eating corn and hay, And you are in Glendinning’s arms; What need ye long for day?’
7 ‘O fetch me paper, pen, and ink, A candle that I may see, And I will write a long letter To Jemmy at Dundee.’
8 When Jemmie looked the letter on, A loud laughter gave he; But eer he read the letter oer The tear blinded his ee.
9 ‘Gar saddle,’ he cried, ‘my war-horse fierce, Warn a’ my trusty clan, And I’ll away to Glendinning Castle And see my sister Ann.’
10 When he came to Glendinning yet, He lighted on the green, But ere that he wan up the stair Fair Annie she was gane.
11 ‘The Highlands were not for thee, bonnie Ann, The Highlands were not for thee, And they that would have thy favour won Should have brought you home to me.
12 ‘O I will kiss thy cherry cheeks, And I will kiss thy chin, And I will kiss thy rosy lips, For they will neer kiss mine.’
* * * * *
E
Kinloch MSS, V, 355, in the handwriting of John Hill Burton.
1 Bonny Baby Livingstone Went out to view the hay, And by there came a Hieland lord, And he’s stown Baby away.
2 He’s stown her in her coat, her coat, And he’s stown her in her gown, And he let not her look back again Ere she was many a mile from town.
3 He set her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon another, And they are on to bonny Lochell, Like sister and like brother.
4 The bells were rung, the mass was sung, And all men bound to bed, And Baby and her Hieland lord They were both in one chamber laid.
5 ‘Oh day, kind sir! Oh day, kind sir! Oh day fain would I see! I would gie a’ the lands o Livingstone For day-light, to lat me see.’
6 ‘Oh day, Baby? Oh day, Baby? What needs you long for day? Your steed is in a good stable, And he’s eating baith corn and hay.
7 ‘Oh day, Baby? Oh day, Baby? What needs you long for day? You’r lying in a good knight’s arms, What needs you long for day?’
8 ‘Ye’ll get me paper, pen, and ink, And light to let me see, Till I write on a broad letter And send ‘t to Lord ...’
* * * * *
#A.#
“On the other page you will find the whole ballad of Bonny Baby Livingston. I found upon recollection that I had the whole story in my memory, and thought it better to write it out entire, as what I repeated to you was, I think, more imperfect.” Mrs Brown, MS., Appendix, p. xv.
#a.#
35^4. first may be fast, as in #b#.
#b.#
1^2. gaed out.
2^1. And first.
2^3. in his.
3^1. He’s mounted her upon a.
4^1. oer yon hich hich hill.
4^2. Intill #a.#
4^3. He met.
5^1. And there.
5^2. And there were kids sae fair.
5^3. But sad and wae was bonny Baby.
5^4. was fu o.
6^1. He’s taen her in his arms twa.
6^3. I wad gie a’ my flocks and herds.
6^4. Ae smile frae thee to.
7. A smile frae me ye’se never win, I’ll neer look kind on thee; Ye’ve stown me awa frae a’ my kin, Frae a’ that’s dear to me.
Dundee, kind sir, Dundee, kind sir, Tak me to bonny Dundee! For ye sall neer my favour win Till it ance mair I see.
8^3. But I will carry you.
8^4. Where you my bride shall be.
9^1. Or will ye stay at.
9^2. And get.
9^3. Or gang wi me to.
9^4. we’ll live.
10^2. I care neither for milk nor.
10^3. gang.
11^2. If I were in.
11^3. I’d send.
12^3. coudna win.
13^1. tongue, my brother John.
13^3. I hae.
13^4. This mony a year and day.
14^1. I’ve lued her lang and lued her weel.
14^2. But her love I.
14^3. And what I canna fairly gain.
14^4. To steal.
15^3. they cam, his three sisters.
15^4. Their brother for to greet.
16^1. And they have taen her bonny Baby.
17^3. why look ye sae.
17^4. Come tell.
18^3. I’m far frae.
19^2. Afore.
19^3. letter wrate.
19^4. And sent to.
After 19:
And gin I had a bonny boy To help me in my need, That he might rin to bonny Dundee, And come again wi speed.
20. Wanting.
21^1. And they hae.
21^2. Their errand for to gang.
21^3. And bade him run to bonny Dundee.
21^4. And nae to tarry lang.
22, 23. Wanting.
24^1. oer muir.
24^2. As fast as he.
25, 26. Wanting.
27. Whan Johnie lookit the letter on, A hearty laugh leuch he; But ere he read it till an end The tear blinded his ee.
O wha is this, or what is that, Has stown my love frae me? Although he were my ae brither, An ill dead sall he die.
28^1. Gae saddle to me the black, he says.
28^{2,3}. Gae.
29^1. He’s called upon his merry.
29^2. To follow him to.
29^3. And he’s vowd he’d neither.
29^4. he got his. 30^1. him on.
30^2. And fast he rade away.
30^3. And he’s come to Glenlyon’s yett.
31^2. And the.
31^4. Aneath.
32^1. window loup.
34. Wanting.
35^4. As fast.
36^4. laverock.
37^1. nae the.
#B.#
3^4. ewes. Indistinctly written.
5^2. fore.
223
EPPIE MORRIE
‘Eppie Morrie,’ Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 40, 18
“This ballad,” says Maidment, “is probably much more than a century old, though the circumstances which have given rise to it were unfortunately too common to preclude the possibility of its being of a later date.” He does not tell us where the ballad came from, and no other editor seems to know of it. Two stanzas, 10, 11, occur in a copy of ‘Rob Roy’ (No 225, #J#) which had once been in Maidment’s hands, and perhaps was obtained from the same region.
Four-and-twenty Highlanders, the leader of whom is one Willie, come to Strathdon from Carrie (Carvie?) side to steal away Eppie Morrie, who has refused to marry Willie. They tie her on a horse and take her to a minister, whom Willie, putting a pistol to his breast, orders to marry them. The minister will not consent unless Eppie is willing, and she strenuously refuses; so they take her to Carrie side and put her to bed. She defends herself successfully, and in the morning comes in her lover, Belbordlane, or John Forsyth, well armed, and we presume well supported, who carries her back to her mother, to be his bride.
Scott, Introduction to Rob Roy, Appendix, No V, cites two stanzas of a ballad derived from tradition which, if we had the whole, might possibly turn out to be the same story with different names.
Four-and-twenty Hieland men Came doun by Fiddoch side, And they have sworn a deadly aith Jean Muir suld be a bride.
And they have sworn a deadly aith, Ilke man upon his durke, That she should wed with Duncan Ger, Or they’d make bloody worke.
* * * * *
1 Four-and-twenty Highland men Came a’ from Carrie side To steal awa Eppie Morrie, Cause she would not be a bride.
2 Out it’s came her mother, It was a moonlight night, She could not see her daughter, Their swords they shin’d so bright.
3 ‘Haud far awa frae me, mother, Haud far awa frae me; There’s not a man in a’ Strathdon Shall wedded be with me.’
4 They have taken Eppie Morrie, And horse back bound her on, And then awa to the minister, As fast as horse could gang.
5 He’s taken out a pistol, And set it to the minister’s breast: ‘Marry me, marry me, minister, Or else I’ll be your priest.’
6 ‘Haud far awa frae me, good sir, Haud far awa frae me; For there’s not a man in all Strathdon That shall married be with me.’
7 ‘Haud far awa frae me, Willie, Haud far awa frae me; For I darna avow to marry you, Except she’s as willing as ye.’
8 They have taken Eppie Morrie, Since better could nae be, And they’re awa to Carrie side, As fast as horse could flee.
9 When mass was sung, and bells were rung, And all were bound for bed, Then Willie an Eppie Morrie In one bed they were laid.
10 ‘Haud far awa frae me, Willie, Haud far awa frae me; Before I’ll lose my maidenhead, I’ll try my strength with thee.’
11 She took the cap from off her head And threw it to the way; Said, Ere I lose my maidenhead, I’ll fight with you till day.
12 Then early in the morning, Before her clothes were on, In came the maiden of Scalletter, Gown and shirt alone.
13 ‘Get up, get up, young woman, And drink the wine wi me;’ ‘You might have called me maiden, I’m sure as leal as thee.’
14 ‘Wally fa you, Willie, That ye could nae prove a man And taen the lassie’s maidenhead! She would have hired your han.’
15 ‘Haud far awa frae me, lady, Haud far awa frae me; There’s not a man in a’ Strathdon The day shall wed wi me.’
16 Soon in there came Belbordlane, With a pistol on every side: ‘Come awa hame, Eppie Morrie, And there you’ll be my bride.’
17 ‘Go get to me a horse, Willie, And get it like a man, And send me back to my mother A maiden as I cam.
18 ‘The sun shines oer the westlin hills; By the light lamp of the moon, Just saddle your horse, young John Forsyth, And whistle, and I’ll come soon.’
* * * * *
5^1. pistol, and.
5^2. Set.
16^1. their.
224
THE LADY OF ARNGOSK
Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1823, p. 99.
“The following fragment,” says Sharpe in his preface (he had not then recovered the second stanza), “I cannot illustrate either from history or tradition.” Very soon after the publication of the Ballad Book, full particulars of the carrying off of the Lady of Arngosk were procured for him by David Webster, the bookseller. Webster addressed himself to Mrs Isobell Dow, otherwise Mrs Mac Leish, of Newburgh, Fife, whose mother, he had learned, was waiting-maid to the lady at the time of the rape. “In my very early years,” he wrote, July 4, 1823, “I have listened with great delight to my mother when she sung me a song the first stanza of which was this:
The Highlandmen are a’ cum down, They’re a’ cum down almost, They’ve stowen awa the bonny lass, The lady of Arngosk.
“Now Miss Finlay informs me that Isobel Stewart, your mother, was waiting-maid to the ‘bonny lass’ at the time she was ‘stowen awa,’ and that you are the most likely person now alive who will be able to recollect the song, or the particulars that gave rise to it. My reason for requesting this favour from a lady I have not the pleasure to know is, some gentlemen, my acquaintance, are making a collection of old Scots songs, which is printing, and they are anxious to have it as full as possible. We therefore wish a copy of the song entire, if you can recollect it, and the name of the lady who was the ‘bonny lass,’” etc. Mrs Dow replied, July 8, through John Masterton, that she was “sorrow” to say that she could not recollect more of the song than Webster was already in possession of, but the story she could never forget, having heard her mother repeat it so often: and this story Masterton proceeds to give in Mrs Dow’s own words. Although Mrs Dow was liberal of details, Webster seems to have wanted to hear more, and accordingly Masterton writes at greater length July 30, repeating what had been said before, with “some particular incidents” omitted in the former letter, but nothing very material except that Miss Gibb was rich, and that Isobell Dow had “brought to her recolection another verse of the song” (st. 2). The earlier letter even is somewhat out of proportion to so meagre a relic of verse, an intolerable deal of bread to a half-penny worth of sack; but it is very readable, and has some value as a chapter from domestic life in Scotland in the first half of the last century.[124]
NEWBURGH, 8 July, 1823.
DEAR SIR. I am directed by Isobell Dow to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, and to write you an answer to your request respecting the stealing awa the Lady of Arngosk. She is sorrow to say she cannot recolect any more of the song than what you are in possession off already. As for the truth of the story, she can never forget, having heard her mother repeat it so often. I will therefore give you it in her own words.
Yours, &c.,
JN MASTERSON.
My mother was waiting-maid to the Lady of Arngask, whose name was Miss Margret Gibb, at which time two gentlemen paid addresses to her; the one a Mr Jamieson, a writer in Strathmiglo, the other a Mr Graham, of Bracko Castle, who was the subject of the story; but his love did not meet with a return suitable to his wishes; he therefore came to the strong resolution of taking her away by force. It will be proper to mention that he came two nights previous, when my mother was in the barn dighting corn, and accosted her thus: Tiby, I want to see Margret. She answerd: I doubt, Mr Graham, you canna see her the night, but I’ll gang an tell her. She went and was orderd to tell him that he could not see her; which put him in such a frenzy that he ran up and down the barn through chaff and corn up to the middle; however, he forced in to her company, but what passed betwixt them my mother did not know. But on the second night after, at midnight, when in bed (my mother alway sleeping with Miss Gibb),[125] a very sharp knock was heard at the door, which alarmd them very much, it being a lonely place. My mother went and called, who was there; she was answered, Open the door, Tiby, and see. She said: Keep me! Mr Graham, what way are you here at this time? Ye canna won in the night. She drew the bar, and was almost frighted out of her sences by the appearance of above thirty Hillandmen on horseback, all armed with swords and dirks, &c. She atempted to shut the door again, but Mr Graham pressed his knee in and forced his way. He went ben, and ordered them to put on their clothes an go along with him. Miss Gibb insisted on stoping ere daylight, and she would go with good will; but he would admit of no delay, but ordered her to dress herself imediately, otherwise he would do it by force. She then said she would not go unless Tiby acompanied her, which he said he intended to propose had she not mentioned it; but my mother would not go, she said, to ride behind none of these Hillandmen. Mr Graham then proposed to take her behind himself. They did then all mount; he at the same time used the precaution of placing sentries on the houses where the other servants lodged, to prevent them giving the alarm, and also three stout men at the bell of the church, to prevent it being rung. They kept their posts till they thought them a sufficient distance on the way, Mr Graham always joking to my mother about something or other, asuring her so soon as he had all over he would make her happy and comfortable all the days of her life. They rode on over hill and dale till within sight of Bracko Castle, when all of a sudden the Hillanmen dispersed, or deserted them, excepting his own imediate servants; which my mother thought was because he had deceived them, saying that the lady was willing to marry him but her friends would not alow, which by this time they must have found out. He told my mother that a minister was waiting them at Bracko, but he must have been disappointed, for the minister never appeared; else, she always thought, they would been married. Report said that Mr Jamieson had so contrived to stop his arrival. My mother and Miss Margret were then secured in an uper room in the castle till the next day, when there appeared mostly all the men of the parishes of Arngask and Strathmiglo, demanding their lady; my father among the rest, demanding my mother as his intended wife. It seemed so soon as the Hillan sentries were gone from the houses and church-bell of Arngask, that the servants ran to the bell, and rang such a peal as made all the Ochles resound wi the sad news that their lady was stowen awa by Graham an his clan. Mr Jamieson was no less busy in alarming and rousing the indignation of the good folk of Strathmiglo, who were much atached to her interest, so that both parishes rose to a man, and armed themselves with whatever came in the way, and marched in a body to make an attack on the castle, and rescue their much esteemed lady. But on their making their appearance before the castle in such formidable array, Mr Graham thought it prudent to surender rather than sustain the attack of such a body of desperate men. Mr Graham conducted them down stairs with his cap in hand (the gentlemen in those days wore velvet caps), and addressed her thus: I shall see you on your horse, Margret, for a’ the ill you’ve done me, and bade her a long and lasting farewell; at which she stamped with her foot and recommended him to the devil. They all came home in safety, and the bells, that so lately rang to alarm and spread the dismal news, were again rung to proclaim the happy return of the lady that was stowen awa. Bonefires were also erected on the highest of the Ochles. She was married that same year to Mr Jamieson, and I suppose some of their children are alive to this day. It was generaly reported that Mr Graham was so much affronted at the dissapointment that he left the country soon after.
Such, sir, is the story that gave rise to the song you are so much in request off, which I have gathered from Isobell Dow, and put in order according to my weak capacity, knowing it will fall into better and abler hands, and that, altho the song be a wanting, there is ample mater for composition.
I remain your most Obed^t H^{le} Serv^t,
JOHN MASTERTON, for ISOBELL DOW.
P. S. I had almost forgot to mention as to the period of time when it happened, which cannot be less than 87 years, which Isobell makes out in the following maner; it being two years before her father and mother was married, and that they lived together fifty-one years, it being now thirty-four years since her mother died, which makes it to have been about the year 1736.
J. M.
* * * * *
1 The Highlandmen hae a’ come down, They’ve a’ come down almost, They’ve stowen away the bonny lass, The Lady of Arngosk.
2 They hae put on her petticoat, Likewise her silken gown; The Highland man he drew his sword, Said, Follow me ye’s come.
3 Behind her back they’ve tied her hands, An then they set her on; ‘I winna gang wi you,’ she said, ‘Nor ony Highland loon.’
225
ROB ROY
#A.# Skene MS., p. 44.
#B.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 343.
#C.# ‘Rob Roy MacGregor,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 93.
#D.# ‘Rob Roy,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 147, Abbotsford.
#E.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 41.
#F.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Campbell MSS, II, 229.
#G.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Cromek’s Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 199.
#H.# Sir Walter Scott’s Introduction to “Rob Roy,” Appendix, No V.
#I.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Campbell’s MSS, II, 58.
#J.# ‘Rob Oig,’ A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Aungervyle Society, 1881.
#K.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Laing’s Thistle of Scotland, p. 93.
The hero of this ballad was the youngest of the five sons of the Rob Roy who has been immortalized by Sir Walter Scott, and was known as Robert Oig, young, or junior. When a mere boy (only twelve years old, it is said) he shot a man mortally whom he considered to have intruded on his mother’s land, and for not appearing to underlie the law for this murder he was outlawed in 1736. He had fled to the continent, and there he enlisted in the British army, and was wounded and made prisoner at Fontenoy in 1745. He was exchanged, returned to Scotland and obtained a discharge from service, and, though still under ban, was able to effect a marriage with a woman of respectable family. She lived but a few years, and after her death, whether spontaneously or under the influence of his brother James, a man of extraordinary hardihood, Rob Oig formed a plan of bettering his own fortune, and incidentally that of his kin, by a marriage of the Sabine fashion with a woman of means. The person selected was Jean Key, who had been two months the widow of John Wright. She was but nineteen years of age, and was living with her mother at Edinbelly, in Stirlingshire, and her property is said to have been, not the twenty thousand pounds of some of the ballads, but some sixteen or eighteen thousand marks.
On the night of December 8, 1750, Rob Oig, accompanied by his brothers James and Duncan and others, first placing guards at the door and windows, to prevent escape from within and help from without, entered the house of Jean Key, and not finding her, because she had taken alarm and hidden herself in a closet, obliged the mother to produce her daughter, under threats “to murder every person in the family, or to burn the house and every person in it alive.” Jean Key, on being brought out, was told by James MacGregor that the party had come to marry her to Robert, his brother.” Upon her desiring to be allowed till next morning, or some few hours, to deliberate upon the answer she was to give to so unexpected and sudden a proposal as a marriage betwixt her, then not two months a widow, and a man with whom she had no manner of acquaintance,” after some little expostulation, they laid hands upon her, dragged her out of doors, tied her on the back of a horse, and carried her first to a house at Buchanan, six miles from Edinbelly, thence to Rowerdennan, “thence, by water, to some part of the Highlands about the upper part of Loch Lomond, out of the reach of her friends and relations, where she was detained in captivity and carried from place to place for upwards of three months.” At Rowerdennan, or further north, a priest read the marriage-service while the resolute James held up the young woman before him, and declared Rob Oig and her to be man and wife.
The rest of the story does not come into the ballad, but it may be added that both the military and the civil power took the matter in hand; that the MacGregors found it necessary to release their captive (who died, but not of the violence she had undergone, ten months after she was taken away); that James MacGregor was brought to trial in July, 1752, for hamesucken (invasion of a private house), forcible abduction of a woman, and constraining her to a marriage, was convicted of a part of the charge but not of the last count, and while the court had the verdict under consideration made his escape from Edinburgh castle; that Rob Oig was apprehended the following year, tried and condemned to death, and was executed in February, 1754.[126]
We may easily believe that, as Scott says, the imagination of half-civilized Highlanders was not much shocked at the idea of winning a wife in a violent way. It had been common, and they may naturally have wondered why it should seem so particular in their instance. It is certain that Jean Key did not receive the sympathy of all of her own sex. A lady of much celebrity has told us that it is safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion, and there were those in Jean Key’s day, and after, who thought it mere silliness to make a coil about a little compulsion. “It is not a great many years,” Sir Walter Scott testifies, “since a respectable woman, above the lower rank of life, expressed herself very warmly to the author on his taking the freedom to censure the behaviour of the MacGregors on the occasion in question. She said, ‘that there was no use in giving a bride too much choice upon such occasions; that the marriages were happiest lang syne which had been done off hand.’ Finally, she averred that her ‘own mother had never seen her father till the night he brought her up from the Lennox with ten head of black cattle, and there had not been a happier couple in the country.’”
The ballad adheres to fact rather closely; indeed a reasonably good “dittay” could be made out of it. The halt at Buchanan is mentioned #B# 8, #C# 10, #K# 14; the road would be through Drymen, as in #C# 10, #K# 13; and Balmaha, #H# 2, is a little beyond Buchanan. Ballyshine is substituted for Buchanan in #E# 6, #J# 4. At Buchanan, or Ballyshine (‘as they came in by Drimmen town, and in by Edingarry,’ #K# 13), a cloak and gown are bought (fetched) for the young woman to be married in, #B# 8, #C# 10, #F# 4. It is a cotton gown, #E# 6, coat and gown, #A# 8; in cotton gown she is married, #J# 4; meaning probably that she was married in a night-gown, having been roused from her bed. It is at Buchanan, or Ballyshine, that she is married. Four held her up to the priest, #A#, #C#, #F# (two, #D#, #I#, #K#, three, #E#, #J#, six, #B#), four laid her in bed, #A#, #B#, #E#, #F#, #I#, #J#, #K# (two, #C#, #D#).
Rob Roy is said to come from Drunkie (the home of his first wife), #J# 1; to come over the Loch of Lynn, #G# 2. Jean Key’s abode seems to be called White House (Wright?) in #A# 2, but Blackhills, #C# 2, and in #K# 2 Jean Key is called Blackhill’s daughter. Blackhill is apparently a corruption of Mitchell, Jean’s mother’s maiden name. The mother is called Jean Mitchell in #J# 2.
In #A# 8, Rob Roy’s party are wrongly said to tarry at Stirling. In #J# 2, Glengyle is said to go with him to steal Jean Mitchell’s daughter. Glengyle, Rob Oig’s cousin, and chief of his immediate family was, for a MacGregor, an orderly man,[127] and did not countenance the proceeding. #J# 6, 7 belong to the ballad of ‘Eppie Morrie,’ No 223.
Rob Oig puts Jean Key’s fortune at £20,000, #A# 13, #C# 19; 50,000 merks, #D# 14; 30,000, #K# 23; 20,000, which was not very far from right, #E# 10. The reading in #B# 15 is a manifest corruption of thirty thousand merks.
Old Rob Roy is in several copies spoken of as still alive. Though the time both of his birth and death is not accurately known, this was certainly not the case.
#H# is translated by Fiedler, Geschichte der schottischen Liederdichtung, I, 52.
* * * * *
A
Skene MS., p. 44; from recitation in the north of Scotland, 1802–3.
1 Rob Roy, frae the high Highlands, Came to the Lawlan border; It was to steel a lady away, To keep his Highland house in order.
2 As he came in by White House, He sent nae ane before him; She wad hae secured the house, For she did ay abhor him.
3 Twenty men surrount the house, an twenty they went in, They found her wi her mither; Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes They parted frae ane anither.
4 ‘O will ye be my dear?’ he says, ‘Or will ye be my honnie? O will ye be my wedded wife? I lee you best of ony.’
5 ‘I winna be your dear,’ [she says,] ‘Nor will I be your honnie, Nor will I be your wedded wife; Ye lee me for my money.’
6 . . . . by the way, This lady aftimes fainted; Says, Woe be to my cursed gold, This road for me’s invented!
7 He gave her no time for to dress Like ladies when they’re ridin, But set her on hie horseback, Himsel was ay beside her.
8 Whan they came to the Black House, And at Stirling tarried, There he bought her coat an gown, But she would not [be] married.
9 Four men held her to the priest, An four they did her bed, Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes Whan she by him was laid.
10 ‘Be content, be content, Be content wi me, lady; Now ye are my wedded wife Untill the day ye die, lady.
11 ‘My father was a Highlan laird, McGrigor was his name, lady; A’ the country roun about They dreadit his great fame, lady.
12 ‘He kept a hedge about his lands, A prickle to his foes, lady, An every ane that did him wrang, He took him by the nose, lady.
13 ‘My father he delights in nout and goats, An me in horse and sheep, lady; You an twenty thousan pounds Makes me a man complete, lady.
14 ‘You’re welcome to this Highlan lan, It is my native plain, lady; Think nae mair of gauin back, But tak it for your hame, lady.
15 ‘I’m gauin, [I’m gauin,] I’m gauin to France, lady; Whan I come back I’ll learn ye a dance, lady.
16 ‘Set your foot, [set your foot,] Set your foot to mine, lady; Think nae mair of gauin back, But tak it for your hame, lady.’
* * * * *
B
Kinloch MSS, I, 343.
1 Rob Roy frae the Hielands cam Unto the Lawland border, And he has stown a ladie fair, To hand his house in order.
2 He guarded the house round about, Himsel went in and found her out, She hung close by her mither; Wi dolefu cries and watery eyes They parted frae each ither.
3 ‘Gang wi me, my dear,’ he says, ‘Gang and be my honey; Gang and be my wedded wife, I loe ye best o onie.’
4 ‘I winna gang wi you,’ she says, ‘I winna be your honey; I winna be your wedded wife; Ye loe me for my money.’
5 He gied na her na time to dress As ladies whan they’re brides, But hurried her awa wi speed, And rowd her in his plaids.
6 He gat her up upon a horse, Himsel lap on ahind her; And they’re awa to the Hieland hills; Her friends they canna find her.
7 As they gaed oure the Hieland hills, This lady aften fainted, Saying, Wae be to my cursed gowd, This road to me invented!
8 As they gaed oure the Hieland hills, And at Buchanan tarried, He bought to her baith cloak and goun, Yet she wadna be married.
9 Six held her up afore the priest, Four laid her in a bed, O; Maist mournfully she wept and cried Whan she bye him was laid, O.
10 ‘O be content, be content, Be content to stay, ladie; For now ye are my wedded wife Unto your dying day, ladie.
11 ‘Rob Roy was my father calld, M’Gregor was his name, ladie; And in a’ the country whare he dwalt He exceeded ae in fame, ladie.
12 ‘He was a hedge unto his friends, A heckle to his faes, ladie; And ilka ane that did him wrang, He beat him on the neis, ladie.
13 ‘I’m as bold, I am as bold As my father was afore, ladie; Ilka ane that does me wrang Sall feel my gude claymore, ladie.
14 ‘There neer was frae Lochlomond west That eer I did him fear, ladie; For, if his person did escape, I seizd upon his gear, ladie.
15 ‘My father delights in horse and kye, In sheep and goats and a’, ladie, And thee wi me and thirty merks Will mak me a man fu braw, ladie.
16 ‘I hae been in foreign lands, And servd the king o France, ladie; We will get the bagpipes, And we’ll hae a dance, ladie.’
* * * * *
C
Motherwell’s MS., p. 93.
1 Rob Roy’s from the Hielands come Unto our Lowland border, And he has stolen a lady away, To keep his house in order.
2 Rob Roy’s come to Blackhill’s gate, Twenty men his arms did carry, And he has stolen a lady away, On purpose her to marry.
3 None knew till he surrounded the house, No tidings came before him, Or else she had been gone away, For she did still abhor him.
4 All doors and windows guarded were, None could the plot discover; Himself went in and found her out, Professing how he loved her.
5 ‘Come go with me, my dear,’ he said, ‘Come go with me, my honey, And you shall be my wedded wife, I love you best of onie.’
6 ‘I will not go with you,’ she said, ‘Nor will I be your honey; I neer shall be your wedded wife, You love me for my money.’
7 But he her drew amongst his crew, She holding by her mother; With mournful cries and watery eyes They parted from each other.
8 No time they gave her to be dressed As ladies when they’re brides, O, But hurried her away in haste; They rowed her in their plaids, O.
9 As they went over hills and rocks, The lady often fainted; Says, Wae may it be, my cursed money, This road to me invented!
10 They passed away by Drymen town, And at Buchanan tarried; They bought to her a cloak and gown, Yet she would not be married.
11 But without consent they joined their hands; By law ought not to carry; The priest his zeal it was so hot On her will he would not tarry.
12 Four held her up before the priest, Two laid her in the bed, O; Och, mournfully she weeped and cried When she by him was laid, O.
13 ‘Now you’re come to the Highland hills, Out of your native clime, lady, Never think of going back, But take this for your hame, lady.
14 ‘Be content, be content, Be content to stay, lady; Now ye are my wedded wife Unto your dying day, lady.
15 ‘O Rob Roy was my father called, But McGregor was his name, lady; In all the country far and near None did exceed his fame, lady.
16 ‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold, I’m as bold as he, lady; In France and Ireland I’ll dance and fight, And from them take the gree, lady.
17 ‘He was a hedge about his friends, But a heckle to his faes, lady, And every one that did him wrong, He took them owre the nose, lady.
18 ‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold, I’m as bold, and more, lady; Every one that does me wrong Shall feel my good claymore, lady.
19 ‘My father he has stots and ewes, And he has goats and sheep, lady, But you and twenty thousand punds Makes me a man complete, lady.’
* * * * *
D
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 147, Abbotsford; in a handwriting of the early part of this century.
1 Rob Roy from the Highlands came Unto the Lowland border; It was to steal a ladie away, To keep his house in order.
2 He gae her nae time to dress herself Like a lady that was to be married, But he hoisd her out among his crew, And rowd her in his plaidie.
3 ‘Will ye go wi me, my dear?’ he says, ‘Will ye go wi me, my honey? Will ye go wi me, my dear?’ he says, ‘For I love you best of ony.’
4 ‘I winna be your dear,’ she says, ‘Nor I’ll never be your honey; I’ll never be your wedded wife, For you love me but for my money.’
5 He hoisd her out among his crew, She holding by her mother; Wi watry eyes and mournfu cries They parted from each other.
6 As they gaed oer yon high hill, The ladie often fainted; ‘Oh, wae be to my gold,’ she said, ‘This road for me invented!’
7 Two held her up before the priest, And two put her to bed, Wi mournful cries and watry eyes As she lay by his side.
8 ‘Be content, be content, Be content wi me, ladie, For now you are my wedded wife Until the day ye die, ladie.
9 ‘Rob Roy was my father calld, McGrigor was his name, ladie, And a’ the country round about Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.
10 ‘You do not think yourself a match For such a one as I, ladie; But I been east and I been west, And saird the king of France, ladie.
11 ‘And now we hear the bag-pipe play, And we maun hae a dance, ladie, And a’ the country round about Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.
12 ‘Shake your foot, shake your foot, Shake your foot wi me, ladie, For now you are my wedded bride Until the day ye die, ladie.
13 ‘My father dealt in cows and ewes, Likewise in goats and sheep, ladie, And a’ the country round about Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.
14 ‘And ye have fifty thousand marks, Makes me a man compleat, ladie; Why mayn’t I maid May I not ride in state, ladie?
15 ‘My father was a Highland laird, Altho he be now dead, ladie, And a’ the country round about Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.’
* * * * *
E
Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 41; “from tradition (Widow Stevenson).”
1 Rob Roy from the Highlands cam Unto our Scottish border, And he has stown a lady fair, To hand his house in order.
2 And when he cam he surrounded the house; Twenty men their arms did carry; And he has stown this lady fair, On purpose her for to marry.
3 And whan he cam he surrounded the house; No tidings there cam before him, Or else the lady would have been gone, For still she did abhor him.
4 Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes, Fast hauding by her mother, Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes They parted frae each other.
5 Nae time he gied her to be dressed As ladys do when they’re bride, O, But he hastened and hurried her awa, And he rowd her in his plaid, O.
6 They rade till they cam to Ballyshine, At Ballyshine they tarried; He bought to her a cotton gown, Yet would she never be married.
7 Three held her up before the priest, Four carried her to bed, O, Wi watery eyes and murnfu sighs When she behind was laid, O.
8 ‘O be content, be content, Be content to stay, lady, For you are my wedded wife Unto my dying day, lady. Be content, etc.
9 ‘My father is Rob Roy called, MacGregor is his name, lady; In all the country whare he dwells, He does succeed the fame, lady. Be content, etc.
10 ‘My father he has cows and ewes, And goats he has anew, lady, And you and twenty thousand merks Will mak me a man complete, lady.’ Be content, etc.
* * * * *
F
Campbell MSS, II, 229.
1 Rob Roy frae the Highlands came Unto the Lawland border, And he has stolen a lady away, To hand his house in order.
2 He’s pu’d her out amang his men, She holding by her mother; With mournfu cries and watery eyes They parted frae each other.
3 When they came to the heigh hill-gate, O it’s aye this lady fainted: ‘O wae! what has that cursed monie That’s thrown to me invented?’
4 When they came to the heigh hill-gate, And at Buchanan tarried, They fetchd to her a cloak and gown, Yet wad she not be married.
5 Four held her up before the priest, Four laid her on her bed, With mournfu cries and watery eyes When she by him was laid.
6 ‘I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind to thee, lady, And all the country for thy sake Shall surely favoured be, lady.
7 ‘Be content, be content, Be content and stay, lady; Now ye are my weded wife Until your dying-day, ladie.
8 ‘Rob Roy was my father called, McGregor was his name, lady; In every country where he was, He did exceed the fame, lady.
9 ‘He was a hedge about his friends, A terror to his foes, lady, And every one that did him wrong, He hit them oer the nose, lady.
10 ‘Be content, be content, Be content and stay, lady; Now ye are my wedded wife Until your dying-day, lady.
11 ‘We will go, we will go, We will go to France, lady, Where I before for safety fled, And there wee’l get a dance, lady.
12 ‘Shake a fit, shake a fit, Shake a fit to me, lady; Now ye are my wedded wife Until your dying-day, lady.
* * * * *
G
Cromek, Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 194, 199; sent by Burns to William Tytler, in a letter.
1 Rob Roy from the Highlands cam Unto the Lawlan border, To steal awa a gay ladie, To hand his house in order.
2 He cam owre the Lock o Lynn, Twenty men his arms did carry; Himsel gaed in an fand her out, Protesting he would marry.
3 ‘O will ye gae wi me’? he says, ‘Or will ye be my honey? Or will ye be my wedded wife? For I love you best of any.’
4 ‘I winna gae wi you,’ she says, ‘Nor will I be your honey, Nor will I be your wedded wife; You love me for my money.’
* * * * * *
5 But he set her on a coal-black steed, Himsel lap on behind her, An he’s awa to the Highland hills, Whare her friens they canna find her.
* * * * * *
6 ‘Rob Roy was my father ca’d, MacGregor was his name, ladie; He led a band o heroes bauld, An I am here the same, ladie.
7 ‘Be content, be content, Be content to stay, ladie; For thou art my wedded wife Until thy dying day, ladie.
8 ‘He was a hedge unto his friens, A heckle to his foes, ladie, Every one that durst him wrang, He took him by the nose, ladie.
9 ‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold, I’m as bold, an more, ladie; He that daurs dispute my word Shall feel my guid claymore, ladie.’
* * * * *
H
Sir Walter Scott’s Introduction to his novel “ Rob Roy,” Appendix, No V, Waverley Novels, Cadell, 1846, VII, cxxxiii; “from memory.”
1 Rob Roy is frae the Hielands come Down to the Lowland border, And he has stolen that lady away, To haud his house in order.
2 He set her on a milk-white steed, Of none he stood in awe, Untill they reached the Hieland hills, Aboon the Balmaha.
3 Saying, Be content, be content, Be content with me, lady; Where will ye find in Lennox land Sae braw a man as me, lady?
4 ‘Rob Roy he was my father called, MacGregor was his name, lady; A’ the country, far and near, Have heard MacGregor’s fame, lady.
5 ‘He was a hedge about his friends, A heckle to his foes, lady; If any man did him gainsay, He felt his deadly blows, lady.
6 ‘I am as bold, I am as bold, I am as bold, and more, lady; Any man that doubts my word May try my gude claymore, lady.
7 ‘Then be content, be content, Be content with me, lady, For now you are my wedded wife Until the day ye die, lady.’
* * * * *
I
Campbell MSS, II, 58.
1 Rob Roy is frae the Highlands come Unto the Scottish border, And he has stolen a lady gay, To keep his house in order.
2 He and his crew surrounded the house; No tidings came before him, Or else I’m sure she wad been gone, For she did still abhore him.
3 He drew her thro amang his crew, She holding by her mother; With watery eyes and mournfu cries They parted from each other.
4 He’s set her on a milk-white steed, Himself jumped on behind her, And he’s awa to the Highland hills, And her friends they couldna find her.
5 ‘O be content, be content, O be content and stay, lady, And never think of going back Until your dying day, lady.’
6 As they went over hills and dales, This lady oftimes fainted; Cries, Wae be to that cursed money This road to me invented!
7 ‘O dinna think, O dinna think, O dinna think to ly, lady; O think na ye yersell weel matchd On sic a lad as me, lady?
8 ‘What think ye o my coal-black hair, But and my twinkling een, lady, A little bonnet on my head, And cocket up aboon, lady?
9 ‘O dinna think, O dinna think, O dinna think to ly, lady; O think nae ye yersell weel matchd On sic a lad as me, lady?
10 ‘Rob Roy was my father calld, But Gregory was his name, lady; There was neither duke nor lord Could eer succeed his fame, lady.
11 ‘O may not I, may not I, May not I succeed, lady? My old father did so design; O now but he is dead, lady.
12 ‘My father was a hedge about his friends, A heckle to his foes, lady, And every one that did him wrang, He hit them oer the nose, lady.
13 ‘I [’m] as bold, I [’m] as bold, I [’m] as bold, and more, lady, And every one that does me wrong Shall feel my good claymore, lady.
14 ‘You need not fear our country cheer, Ye’se hae good entertain, lady; For ye shall hae a feather-bed, Both lang and broad and green, lady.
15 ‘Come, be content, come, be content, Come, be content and stay, lady, And never think of going back Until yer dying day, lady.’
16 Twa held her up before the priest, Four laid her in her bed, And sae mournfully she weeping cry’d When she by him was laid!
17 ‘Come, dinna think, come, dinna think, Come, dinna think to ly, lady; You’ll surely think yersell weel matchd On sic a lad as me, lady.
18 ‘Come, be content, come, be content, Come, be content and stay, lady, And never think of going back Until your dying day, lady.’
* * * * *
J
A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Aungervyle Society, 1881, from a manuscript which had belonged to Maidment.
1 From Drunkie in the Highlands, With four and twenty men, Rob Oig is cam, a lady fair To carry from the plain.
2 Glengyle and James with him are cam, To steal Jean Mitchell’s dauchter, And they have borne her far away, To haud his house in order.
3 And he has taen Jean Key’s white hand, And torn her grass-green sleeve, And rudely tyed her on his horse, At her friends asked nae leave.
4 They rode till they cam to Ballyshine, At Ballyshine they tarried; Nae time he gave her to be dressed, In cotton gown her married.
5 Three held her up before the priest, Four carried her to bed, O; Wi watery eyes and mournfu sighs She in bed wi Rob was laid, O.
6 ‘Haud far awa from me, Rob Oig, Haud far awa from me! Before I lose my maidenhead, I’ll try my strength with thee.’
7 She’s torn the cap from off her head And thrown it to the way, But ere she lost her maidenhead She fought with him till day.
8 ‘Wae fa, Rob Oig, upon your head! For you have ravished me, And taen from me my maidenhead; O would that I could dee!’
9 ‘My father he is Rob Roy called, And he has cows and ewes, And you are now my wedded wife, And can nae longer chuse.’
* * * * *
K
Laing’s Thistle of Scotland, p. 93; compounded, with some alterations, from two copies, one from Miss Harper, Kildrummy, the other from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket.
1 Rob Roy frae the Highlands came Doun to our Lowland border; It was to steal a lady away, To haud his house in order.
2 With four-and-twenty Highland men, His arms for to carry, He came to steal Blackhill’s daughter, That lady for to marry.
3 Nae are kend o his comming, Nae tiddings came before him, Else the lady woud hae been away, For still she did abhore him.
4 They guarded doors and windows round, Nane coud their plot discover; Rob Roy enterd then alane, Expressing how he lovd her.
5 ‘Come go with me, my dear,’ he said, ‘Come go with me, my honey, And ye shall be my wedded wife, For I love you best of any.’
6 ‘I will not go with you,’ she said, ‘I’ll never be your honey; I will not be your wedded wife, Your love is for my money.’
7 They woud noc stay till she was drest As ladies when thei’r brides, O, But hurried her awa in haste, And rowd her in their plaids, O.
8 He drew her out among his crew, She holding by her mother; With mournful cries and watry eyes They parted from each other.
9 He placed her upon a steed, Then jumped on behind her, And they are to the Highlands gone, Her friends they cannot find her.
10 With many a heavy sob and wail, They saw, as they stood by her, She was so guarded round about Her friends could not come nigh her.
11 Her mournful cries were often heard, But no aid came unto her; They guarded her on every side That they could not rescue her.
12 Over rugged hills and dales They rode; the lady fainted; Cried, Woe be to my cursed gold That has such roads invented!
13 As they came in by Drimmen town And in by Edingarry, He bought to her both cloak and gown, Still thinking she would marry.
14 As they went down yon bonny burn-side, They at Buchanan tarried; He clothed her there as a bride, Yet she would not be married.
15 Without consent they joind their hands, Which law ought not to carry; His passion waxed now so hot He could no longer tarry.
16 Two held her up before the priest, Four laid her in the bed then, With sighs and cries and watery eyes When she was laid beside him.
17 ‘Ye are come to our Highland hills, Far frae thy native clan, lady; Never think of going back, But take it for thy home, lady.
18 ‘I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind to thee, lady; All the country, for thy sake, Shall surely favourd be, lady.
19 ‘Rob Roy was my father calld, MacGregor was his name, lady, And all the country where he dwelt He did exceed for fame, lady.
20 ‘Now or then, now or then, Now or then deny, lady; Don’t you think yourself well of With a pretty man like I, lady?
21 ‘He was a hedge about his friends, A heckle to his foes, lady, And all that did him any wrong, He took them by the nose, lady.
22 ‘Don’t think, don’t think, Don’t think I lie, lady, Ye may know the truth by what Was done in your country, lady.
23 ‘My father delights in cows and horse, Likewise in goats and sheep, lady, And you with thirty thousand marks Makes me a man complete, lady.
24 ‘Be content, be content, Be content and stay, lady; Now ye are my wedded wife Untill your dying day, lady.
25 ‘Your friends will all seek after me, But I’ll give them the scorn, lady; Before dragoons come oer the Forth, We shall be doun by Lorn, lady.
26 ‘I am bold, I am bold, But bolder than before, lady; Any one dare come this way Shall feel my good claymore, lady.
27 ‘We shall cross the raging seas, We shall go to France, lady; There we’ll gar the piper play, And then we’ll have a dance, lady.
28 ‘Shake a foot, shake a foot, Shake a foot wi me, lady, And ye shall be my wedded wife Until the day ye die, lady.’
* * * * *
#A.#
6^{1,2}. In one line: By the way this lady aftimes fainted. Cf. #B# 7, #C# 9, etc.
12^2. prickle: a bad reading for heckle.
15, 16. Each written in two lines in the MS.
#B.#
15^3. wi me and thirty merks. Corrupted from wi, or and, thirty thousand merks: cf. #K#, 23^8.
#C.#
“Tune, Gipsy Laddy,” 1–12.
13. “Tune changes to Haud awa fra me, Donald.”
14, 16, 18 are written as a burden to the stanzas preceding them.
7^8. weepin originally written for watery, and erased.
18^2. as bold I’ll roar: more written over roar.
#D.#
After 7: Answer to Rob Roy. 8–15 are written in four stanzas of long lines.
9^4. Rob struck out before Roy’s.
#E.#
“The first part [1–7] is sung to the air of Bonny House of Airly, and the last, Haud awa frae me, Donald.”
7^4. was laid behind, O: behind wrongly for by him. Cf. A 9^4, etc.
9^4. succeed the fame. So #I# 10 nearly: #F# 8 did exceed the fame. This line evidently troubled reciters. Another set, says Pitcairn, gives. It did exceed the same. #B# 11, #C# 15, #K# 19 have a reading which we may take to be near the original.
#F.#
1^4. To keep (haud).
#G.#
In stanzas of eight lines. “Tune, a rude set of Mill, Mill O.” After 4: “The song went on to narrate the forcing her to bed; when the tune changes to something like Jenny dang the weaver.”
#I.#
12^4. As a variation, but wrongly (see 13^4), Did feel his good claymore, lady.
#J.#
“I had the first copy from Miss Harper, Kildrummy; but fearing imperfections, I made application, and by chance got another copy from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket. These I blended together and formed a very good copy; but I have taken the liberty of altering the order of some of the stanzas, and in particular, taking out the ninth and making it the eleventh, and changing some of the words to make it more agreeable.” p. 97. Original readings in 2^2, specified by Laing, have been restored, and his 11 put back to 9. What follows 16 has the title, Variation.
226
LIZIE LINDSAY
#A.# ‘Lizie Lindsay.’ #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. ii. #b.# Jamieson’s Popular Ballads. II, 149.
#B.# ‘Donald of the Isles,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 237. Aytoun’s Ballads of Scotland, 1859, I, 277.
#C.# ‘Donald of the Isles,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 253.
#D.# ‘Lizzy Lindsay,’ from a Note-Book of Dr Joseph Robertson, January, 1830, No 6.
#E.# ‘Bonny Lizie Lindsay,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 102.
#F.# ‘Lizzie Lindsay,’ Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 51.
#G.# ‘Leezie Lindsay,’ Notes and Queries, Third Series, I, 463.
Of #A# a Professor Robert Scott says, in the letter in which it was enclosed: “You will find above, all I have been able to procure in order to replace the lost fragment of ‘Lizie Lindsay.’ I believe it is not so correct or so complete as what was formerly sent, but there are materials enough to operate upon, and by forcing the memory of the recorder more harm than good might have been done.” Jamieson says of #b#: “Transmitted to the editor by Professor Scott of Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an old woman.[128] It is very popular in the northeast[north-east] of Scotland, and was familiar to the editor in his early youth; and from the imperfect recollection which he still retains of it he has corrected the text in two or three unimportant passages.”
There is nothing to show whether the lost copy was recovered, unless it be the fact that Jamieson prints about twice as many stanzas as there are in #a#. But Jamieson was not always precise in the account he gave of the changes he made in his texts.
In his preface to #B#, Kinloch remarks that the ballad is very popular in the North, “and few milk-maids in that quarter but can chaunt it, to a very pleasant tune. Lizie Lindsay,” he adds, “according to the tradition of Mearnsshire, is said to have been a daughter of Lindsay of Edzell; but I have searched in vain for genealogical confirmation of the tradition.” Kinloch gave Aytoun a copy of this version, changing a few phrases, and inserting st. 20 of #C#.
The following stanza, printed as No 434 of the Musical Museum, was sent with the air to Johnson by Burns, who intended to communicate something more. (Museum, 1853, IV, 382):
Will ye go to the Highlands, Leezie Lindsay? Will ye go to the Highlands wi me? Will ye go to the Highlands, Leezie Lindsay, My pride and my darling to be?
Robert Allan added three stanzas to this, Smith’s Scotish Minstrel, II, 100, and again, p. 101 of the same, others (in which Lizie Lindsay is, without authority, made ‘a puir lassie’). The second stanza of the second “set” is traditional (cf. #B# 8, #C# 6, #D# 6, #E# 8):
To gang to the Hielands wi you, sir, I dinna ken how that may be, For I ken nae the road I am gaeing, Nor yet wha I’m gaun wi.
Donald MacDonald, heir of Kingcausie, wishes to go to Edinburgh for a wife (or to get Lizie Lindsay for his wife). His mother consents, on condition that he shall use no flattery, and shall ‘court her in great poverty’ (policy, #D#). He sees many bonny young ladies at Edinburgh, but Lizie Lindsay is above compare with others. He presents himself to her in simple Highland garb; what he can offer is a diet of curds and whey and a bed of green rushes (bracken). Lizie would like to know where she would be going, and with whom. His father is an old shepherd (couper, souter), his mother an old dey, and his name is Donald MacDonald. Lizie’s father and mother threaten to have him hanged, which daunts him not in the least. Her maid warmly seconds the suit. Lizie packs up her clothes and sets forth with Donald to foot the steep and dirty ways; she wishes herself back in Edinburgh. They come at last to a shieling, where a woman welcomes Sir Donald; he bids her call him Donald her son, and orders a supper of curds and whey, and a bed of green rushes. Lizie, ‘weary with travel,’ lies late in the morning, and is roused as if to help at the milking; this makes her repine again. But Donald takes her out of the hut and shows her Kingcausie, where she is to be lady.
Kingcausie is some seven miles from Aberdeen, on the south side of the Dee.
Ballads of this description are peculiarly liable to interpolation and debasement, and there are two passages, each occurring in several versions, which we may, without straining, set down to some plebeian improver.
In #B# 10, #D# 10, #E# 19, Lizie Lindsay, not quite ready to go with Donald, makes him an offer of five or ten guineas if he will stay long enough for her to take his picture, ‘to keep her from thinking long.’ In #F# 11 Donald makes the same offer for her picture. In #E# 10, #F# 6, Lizie tells Donald, who has asked where she lives, that if he will call at the Canongate Port, she will drink a bottle of sherry with him, and in the next stanza she is as good as her word. This convivial way of the young ladies of Edinburgh is, owing to an injury to the text, not perceptible in #D# 14, where Donald seems to be inviting Lizie’s mother to bring a bottle of sherry with her in case she should call on him at the Canongate Port.
#A b# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 122; by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder der Vorzeit, p. 125, with deficient verses supplied from #F#. Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 158, translates Allingham’s ballad.
* * * * *
A
#a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. ii, as sent Jamieson by Professor Scott of Aberdeen, June 9, 1805. b. Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, 1806, II, 149, “transmitted to the editor by Professor Scott of Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an old woman,” but “corrected” from Jamieson’s recollection in two or three passages.
* * * * *
1 Out it spake Lizee Linzee, The tear blinket in her ee; How can I leave father and mother, Along with young Donald to gae!
2 Out spoke Lizee’s young handmaid, A bonny young lassie was she; Said, Were I heress to a kingdom, Along with young Donald I’d ga.
3 ‘O say ye so to me, Nelly? O say ye so to me? Must I leave Edinburgh city, To the high Highland to gae?’
4 Out spoke Lizie’s own mother, A good old lady was she; If you speak such a word to my dochter, I’ll gar hang [you] hi.
5 ‘Keep well your dochter from me, madam. Keep well your dochter fa me; For I care as little for your dochter As ye can care for me.’
6 The road grew wetty and dubby, And Lizee began to think lang; Said, I wish had staid with my mother, And nae wi young Donald had gane.
7 ‘You’r welcome hame, Sir Donald, You’r thrice welcome to me; You’r welcome hame, Sir Donald, And your young lady you wi.’
8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘Ye call na me Sir Donald, But ca me Donald your son.’
9 ‘Rise up, Lizee Linzee, You [have] lain too long in the day; Ye might have helped my mother To milch her goats and her kie.’
10 Out it spake Lizee Linzee, The tear blinket in her eye; ‘The ladys of Edinb_u_r_gh_ city, They neither milch goats nor kie.’
* * * * *
B
Kinloch MSS, I, 237, from Miss Catherine Beattie, Mearnsshire.
1 It’s of a young lord o the Hielands, A bonnie braw castle had he, And he says to his lady mither, ‘My boon ye will grant to me: Sail I gae to Edinbruch city, And fesh hame a lady wi me?’
2 ‘Ye may gae to Edinbruch city, And fesh hame a lady wi thee, But see that ye bring her but flattrie, And court her in grit povertie.’
3 ‘My coat, mither, sall be o the plaiden, A tartan kilt oure my knee, Wi hosens and brogues and the bonnet; I’ll court her wi nae flattrie.’
4 Whan he cam to Edinbruch city, He playd at the ring and the ba, And saw monie a bonnie young ladie, But Lizie Lindsay was first o them a’.
5 Syne, dressd in his Hieland grey plaiden, His bonnet abune his ee-bree, He called on fair Lizie Lindsay; Says, Lizie, will ye fancy me?
6 ‘And gae to the Hielands, my lassie, And gae, gae wi me? O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay, I’ll feed ye on curds and green whey.
7 ‘And ye’se get a bed o green bracken, My plaidie will hap thee and me; Ye’se lie in my arms, bonnie Lizie, If ye’ll gae to the Hielands wi me.’
8 ‘O how can I gae to the Hielands, Or how can I gae wi thee, Whan I dinna ken whare I’m gaing, Nor wha I hae to gae wi?’
9 ‘My father, he is an auld shepherd, My mither, she is an auld dey; My name it is Donald Macdonald, My name I’ll never deny.’
10 ‘O Donald, I’ll gie ye five guineas To sit ae hour in my room, Till I tak aff your ruddy picture; Whan I hae’t, I’ll never think lang.’
11 ‘I dinna care for your five guineas; It’s ye that’s the jewel to me; I’ve plenty o kye in the Hielands, To feed ye wi curds and green whey.
12 ‘And ye’se get a bonnie blue plaidie, Wi red and green strips thro it a’; And I’ll be the lord o your dwalling, And that’s the best picture ava.
13 ‘And I am laird o a’ my possessions; The king canna boast o na mair; And ye’se hae my true heart in keeping, There’ll be na ither een hae a share.
14 ‘Sae gae to the Hielands, my lassie, O gae awa happy wi me; O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay, And hird the wee lammies wi me.’
15 ‘O how can I gae wi a stranger, Oure hills and oure glens frae my hame?’ ‘I tell ye I am Donald Macdonald; I’ll ever be proud o my name.’
16 Doun cam Lizie Lindsay’s ain father, A knicht o a noble degree; Says, If ye do steal my dear daughter, It’s hangit ye quickly sall be.
17 On his heel he turnd round wi a bouncie, And a licht lauch he did gie: ‘There’s nae law in Edinbruch city This day that can dare to hang me.’
18 Then up bespak Lizie’s best woman, And a bonnie young lass was she; ‘Had I but a mark in my pouchie, It’s Donald that I wad gae wi.’
19 ‘O Helen, wad ye leave your coffer, And a’ your silk kirtles sae braw, And gang wi a bare-houghd puir laddie, And leave father, mither, and a’?
20 ‘But I think he’s a witch or a warlock, Or something o that fell degree, For I’ll gae awa wi young Donald, Whatever my fortune may be.’
21 Then Lizie laid doun her silk mantle, And put on her waiting-maid’s goun, And aff and awa to the Hielands She’s gane wi this young shepherd loun.
22 Thro glens and oure mountains they wanderd, Till Lizie had scantlie a shoe; ‘Alas and ohone!’ says fair Lizie, ‘Sad was the first day I saw you! I wish I war in Edinbruch city; Fu sair, sair this pastime I rue.’
23 ‘O haud your tongue now, bonnie Lizie, For yonder’s the shieling, my hame; And there’s my guid auld honest mither, That’s coming to meet ye her lane.’
24 ‘O ye’re welcome, ye’re welcome, Sir Donald, Ye’re welcome hame to your ain.’ ‘O ca me na young Sir Donald, But ca me Donald my son;’ And this they hae spoken in Erse, That Lizie micht not understand.
25 The day being weetie and daggie, They lay till ’twas lang o the day: ‘Win up, win up, bonnie Lizie, And help at the milking the kye.’
26 O slowly raise up Lizie Lindsay, The saut tear blindit her ee: ‘O, war I in Edinbruch city, The Hielands shoud never see me!’
27 He led her up to a hie mountain And bade her look out far and wide: ‘I’m lord o thae isles and thae mountains, And ye’re now my beautiful bride.
28 ‘Sae rue na ye’ve come to the Hielands, Sae rue na ye’ve come aff wi me, For ye’re great Macdonald’s braw lady, And will be to the dav that ye dee.’
* * * * *
C
Kinloch MSS, I, 253; from the recitation of Mrs Bouchart, of Dundee.
1 What wad ye gie to me, mither, What wad ye gie to me, If I wad gae to Edinbruch city And bring hame Lizie Lindsey to thee?’
2 ‘Meikle wad I gie to thee, Donald, Meikle wad I gie to thee, If ye wad gang to Edinbruch city And court her as in povertie.’
3 Whan he cam to Edinbruch city, And there a while to resort, He called on fair Lizie Lindsey, Wha lived at the Canongate-Port.
4 ‘Will ye gang to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsey? Will ye gae to the Hielands wi me? And I will gie ye a cup o the curds, Likewise a cup of green whey.
5 ‘And I will gie ye a bed o green threshes, Likewise a happing o grey, If ye will gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsey, If ye’ll gae to the Hielands wi me.’
6 ‘How can I gang?’ says Lizie Lindsey, ‘How can I gang wi thee? I dinna ken whare I am gaing, Nor wha I am gaing wi.’
7 ‘My father is a cowper o cattle, My mither is an auld dey; My name is Donald Macdonald, My name I’ll never deny.’
8 Doun cam Lizie Lindsey’s father, A revrend auld gentleman was he: ‘If ye steal awa my dochter, Hie hanged ye sall be.’
9 He turned him round on his heel And [a] licht lauch gied he: ‘There is na law in a’ Edinbruch city This day that can hang me.’
10 It’s doun cam Lizie’s hand-maid, A bonnie young lass was she: ‘If I had ae crown in a’ the warld, Awa wi that fellow I’d gae.’
11 ‘Do ye say sae to me, Nelly? Do ye say sae to me? Wad ye leave your father and mither, And awa wi that fellow wad gae?’
12 She has kilted her coats o green silk A little below her knee, And she’s awa to the Hielands wi Donald, To bear him companie.
13 And whan they cam to the vallies The hie hills war coverd wi snow, Which caused monie a saut tear From Lizie’s een to flow.
14 ‘O, gin I war in Edinbruch city, And safe in my ain countrie, O, gin I war in Edinbruch city, The Hielands shoud never see me.’
15 ‘O haud your tongue, Lizie Lindsey, Na mair o that let me see; I’ll tak ye back to Edinbruch city, And safe to your ain countrie.’
16 ‘Though I war in Edinbruch city, And safe in my ain countrie, Though I war in Edinbruch city, O wha wad care for me!’
17 Whan they cam to the shiels o Kilcushneuch, Out there cam an auld dey: ‘Ye’re welcome here, Sir Donald, You and your lady gay.’
18 ‘Ca me na mair Sir Donald, But ca me Donald your son, And I’ll ca ye my auld mither, Till the lang winter nicht is begun.’
19 ‘A’ this was spoken in Erse, That Lizie micht na ken; A’ this was spoken in Erse, And syne the broad English began.
20 ‘Ye’ll gae and mak to our supper A cup o the curds and whey, And ye’ll mak a bed o green threshes, Likewise a happing o grey.’
* * * * * *
21 ‘Won up, won up, Lizie Lindsey, Ye’ve lain oure lang in the day; Ye micht hae been helping my mither To milk the ewes and the kye.’
22 Then up got Lizie Lindsey, And the tear blindit her ee: ‘O, gin I war in Edinbruch city, The Hielands shoud never see me!’
23 ‘Won up, won up, Lizie Lindsey, A fairer sicht ye hae to see: Do ye see yon bonnie braw castle? Lady o it ye will be.’
* * * * *
D
From a Note-Book of Joseph Robertson, January, 1830, No. 6; derived from John Hill Burton.
1 There dwalt a lass in the South Countrie, Lizzy Lindsay called by name, And many a laird and lord sought her, But nane o them a’ could her gain.
2 Out spoke the heir o Kinkawsie, An down to his fader spoke he; ‘Fat would ye think o me, fadther, Fat would ye think o me, To go to Edinburgh city, Bring hame Lizzy Lindsay wi me?’
3 Out and spoke his auld modther, An auld revrend lady was she; ‘Court her wi nae fause flatterie, But in great policie.’
4 He was nae in Edinbruch citie But a twalmont an a day, When a’ the young lairds an the ladies Went forth to sport an play: There was nane like Lizzy Lindsay, She was baith gallan an gay.
5 ‘Will ye go to the Hielans, Lizzy Linsay? Will ye go to the Hielans wi me? If ye’ll go to the Hielans, Lizz[y] Linsay, I’ll gar ye get crouds an green whey.’
6 ‘How can I go to the Hielans? Or hoo will I go with thee? I dinna ken whaar I’m going, Or fa ‘t is I would go wi.’
7 ‘My fadther he is an auld couper, My modther a brave auld dey; If ye’ll go to the Hieland[s], Lizzy Linsay, I’ll gar ye get cruds and green whey.’
8 Out it spoke Lizzy’s best maiden, A wat a fine creature was she; ‘Tho I were born heir till a crown, It’s young Donald t_ha_t I would go wi.’
9 ‘Oh say ye sae to me, Nelly? Oh say ye sae to me? Will I cast off my fine gowns and laces, An gae to the Highlans him wi?’
10 She’s putten her hand in her pocket, She’s taen out ten guineas roun: ‘And that wad I gie to thee, Donald, To stay but ae hour i my room, Till I get your fair pictur painted, To haud me unthought lang.’
11 ‘I care as little for your guineas As you can care for mine; But gin that ye like my fair face, Then gae wi me, if that ye incline.’
12 Out it spak Lizzy’s auld mither, I wite a fine lady was she; ‘Gin I hear you speak sae to my daughter, I vow I’se cause them hang thee.’
13 He turned about on his heel, And a loud, loud laughter gae he: ‘They are not in Edinburgh city, I trow, that dare hang me.
14 ‘But an ye come to the Canongate-Port— An there ye’ll be sure to see me— Bring wi ye a bottle of sherry, I’ll bear you good company.’
15 They sought all Edinboro citie, They sought it roun an roun, Thinkin to fin Lizzy Lindsay, But awa to the Highlans she’s gane.
16 Whan they came to the shielin, Out bespoke the ould dye; ‘You’re welcome home, Sir Donald, Lang hae we been thinkin for thee.’
17 ‘Ye’ll call me nae mair Sir Donald, Ye’ll call me nae sic thing; But ye’se be my auld mither, And I’se be Donald your sin.
18 ‘Ye’ll mak for us a supper, A supper o cruds and green whey, And likewise a bed o green rashes, For Lizzy and I to ly.’
19 She’s made for them a supper, A supper o cruds and why, And likewise a bed o green rashes, For Lizzy an him to ly.
20 But Donald rose up i the mornin, The rest o his glens to spy; It was to look for his goats, His goats, his yows, an his kye.
21 But Lizzy, beein wearied wi travel, She lay till ’twas lang i the day: ‘Get up, get up, Lizzy Linsay, What maks you sae lang for to ly? You had better been helping my mither To milk her yews and her kye.’
22 But Lizzy drew till her her stockins, The tears fell down on her eye: ‘I wish I were at Edinboro city, I can neither milk yews nor kye.’
23 ‘Oh hold your tongue, Lizzy Linsay, Your weepin I mustna be wi; I’ll sen you hame to your mither, In the greatest o safety.’
24 But he has tane her by the han, And has shewn her the straight way to go: ‘An dont you see bonny Kincawsie, Wher you and I is to ly?’
25 Out then comes his old mither, An twenty brave knichts her wi: ‘Y’er welcome home, Sir Donald, Lang hae we been thinkin for thee.’
26 Out then comes his old father, An twenty brave ladies him wi: ‘You’r welcome home, Sir Donald, An that fair creature you wi.’
27 He’s taken her by the han, An he’s shewn her the straight way in: ‘An ye’se be Lady Kincawsie, An ye’se hae Donal, my sin.’
* * * * *
E
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 102.
1 In Edinburgh lived a lady, Was ca’d Lizie Lindsay by name, Was courted by mony fine suitors, And mony rich person of fame: Tho lords o renown had her courted, Yet none her favour could gain.
2 Then spake the young laird o Kingcaussie, And a bonny young boy was he; ‘Then let me a year to the city, I’ll come, and that lady wi me.’
3 Then spake the auld laird o Kingcaussie, A canty auld mannie was he; ‘What think ye by our little Donald, Sae proudly and crously cracks he?
4 ‘But he’s win a year to the city, If that I be a living man; And what he can mak o this lady, We shall lat him do as he can.’
5 He’s stript aff his fine costly robes, And put on the single liverie; With no equipage nor attendance, To Edinburgh city went he.
6 Now there was a ball in the city, A ball o great mirth and great fame; And fa danced wi Donald that day But bonny Lizie Lindsay on the green!
7 ‘Will ye gang to the Hielands, bonny Lizie? Will ye gang to the Hielands wi me? Will ye leave the South Country ladies, And gang to the Hielands wi me?’
8 The lady she turned about, And answered him courteouslie; ‘I’d like to ken faer I am gaun first, And fa I am gaun to gang wi.’
9 ‘O Lizie, ae favour I’ll ask you, This favour I pray not deny; Ye’ll tell me your place o abode, And your nearest o kindred do stay.’
10 ‘Ye’ll call at the Canogate-Port, At the Canogate-Port call ye; I’ll gie you a bottle o wine, And I’ll bear you my companie.’
11 Syne he called at the Canogate-Port, At the Canogate-Port calld he; She gae him a bottle o wine, And she gae him her companie.
12 ‘Will ye gang to the Hielands, bonny Lizie? Will ye gang to the Hielands wi me? Will ye leave the South Country ladies, And gang to the Hielands wi me?’
13 Then out spake Lizie’s auld mither, For a very auld lady was she; ‘If ye cast ony creed on my dochter, High hanged I’ll cause you to be.’
14 ‘O keep hame your dochter, auld woman, And latna her gang wi me; I can cast nae mair creed on your dochter, Nae mair than she can on me.’
15 ‘Now, young man, ae question I’ll ask you, Sin ye mean to honour us sae; Ye’ll tell me how braid your lands lie, Your name, and faer ye hae to gae.’
16 ‘My father he is an auld soutter, My mither she is an auld dey, And I’m but a puir broken trooper, My kindred I winna deny.
17 ‘Yet I’m nae a man o great honour, Nor am I a man o great fame; My name it is Donald M’Donald, I’ll tell it, and winna think shame.
18 ‘Will ye gang to the Hielands, bonny Lizie? Will ye gang to the Hielands wi me? Will ye leave the South Country ladies, And gang to the Hielands wi me?’
19 ‘O Donald, I’ll gie you ten guineas, If ye woud but stay in my room Until that I draw your fair picture, To look on it fan I think lang.’
20 ‘No, I carena mair for your guineas, Nae mair than ye care for mine; But if that ye love my ain person, Gae wi me, maid, if ye incline.’
21 Then out spake Lizie’s bower-woman, And a bonny young lassie was she; Tho I was born heir to a crown, Young Donald, I woud gang him wi.
22 Up raise then the bonny young lady, And drew till her stockings and sheen, And packd up her claise in fine bundles, And awa wi young Donald she’s gane.
23 The roads they were rocky and knabby, The mountains were baith strait and stay; When Lizie grew wearied wi travel, For she’d travelld a very lang way.
24 ‘O turn again, bonny Lizie Lindsay, O turn again,’ said he; ‘We’re but ae day’s journey frae town, O turn, and I’ll turn wi thee.’
25 Out speaks the bonny young lady, Till the saut tear blinded her ee; Altho I’d return to the city, There’s nae person woud care for me.
26 When they came near the end o their journey, To the house o their father’s milk-dey, He said, Stay still there, Lizie Lindsay, Till I tell my mither o thee.
27 When he came into the shielen, She hailed him courteouslie; Said, Ye’re welcome hame, Sir Donald, There’s been mony ane calling for thee.
28 ‘O ca me nae mair, Sir Donald, But Donald M’Donald your son; We’ll carry the joke a bit farther, There’s a bonny young lady to come.’
29 When Lizie came into the shielen, She lookd as if she’d been a feel; She sawna a seat to sit down on, But only some sunks o green feall.
30 ‘Now make us a supper, dear mither, The best o your cruds and green whey; And make us a bed o green rashes, And covert wi huddins sae grey.’
31 But Lizie being wearied wi travel, She lay till ’twas up i the day: ‘Ye might hae been up an hour seener, To milk baith the ewes and the kye.’
32 Out then speaks the bonny young lady, Whan the saut tear drapt frae her eye; I wish that I had bidden at hame, I can neither milk ewes nor kye.
33 ‘I wish that I had bidden at hame, The Hielands I never had seen, Altho I love Donald M’Donald, The laddie wi blythe blinking een.’
34 ‘Win up, win up, O bonny Lizie, And dress in the silks sae gay; I’ll show you the yetts o Kingcaussie, Whare I’ve playd me mony a day.’
35 Up raise the bonny young lady, And drest in the silks sae fine, And into young Donald’s arms Awa to Kingcaussie she’s gane.
36 Forth came the auld laird o Kingcaussie, And hailed her courteouslie; Says, Ye’re welcome, bonny Lizie Lindsay, Ye’re welcome hame to me.
37 ‘Tho lords o renown hae you courted, Young Donald your favour has won; Ye’se get a’ the lands o Kingcaussie, And Donald M’Donald, my son.’
* * * * *
F
Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 51, “from the recitation of a lady in Glasgow.”
1 There was a braw ball in Edinburgh, And mony braw ladies were there, But nae ane at a’ the assembly Could wi Lizzie Lindsay compare.
2 In cam the young laird o Kincassie, An a bonnie young laddie was he: ‘Will ye lea yere ain kintra, Lizzie, An gang to the Hielands wi me?’
3 She turned her roun on her heel, An a very loud laughter gaed she: ‘I wad like to ken whar I was ganging, And wha I was gaun to gang wi.’
4 ‘My name is young Donald M’Donald, My name I will never deny; My father he is an auld shepherd, Sae weel as he can herd the kye!
5 ‘My father he is an auld shepherd, My mother she is an auld dame; If ye’ll gang to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie, Ye’s neither want curds nor cream.’
6 ‘If ye’ll call at the Canongate-Port, At the Canongate-Port call on me, I’ll give you a bottle o sherry, And bear you companie.’
7 He ca’d at the Canongate-Port, At the Canongate-Port called he; She drank wi him a bottle o sherry, And bore him guid companie.
8 ‘Will ye go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie? Will ye go to the Hielands wi me? If ye’ll go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie, Ye shall not want curds nor green whey.’
9 In there cam her auld mither, A jolly auld lady was she: ‘I wad like to ken whar she was ganging, And wha she was gaun to gang wi.’
10 ‘My name is young Donald M’Donald, My name I will never deny; My father he is an auld shepherd, Sae weel as he can herd the kye!
11 ‘O but I would give you ten guineas To have her one hour in a room, To get her fair body a picture, To keep me from thinking long.’
12 ‘O I value not your ten guineas, As little as you value mine; But if that you covet my daughter, Take her with you, if you do incline.’
13 ‘Pack up my silks and my satins, And pack up my hose and my shoon, And likewise my clothes in small bundles, And away wi young Donald I’ll gang.’
14 They packd up her silks and her satins, They packd up her hose and her shoon, And likewise her clothes in small bundles, And away with young Donald she’s gane.
15 When that they cam to the Hielands, The braes they were baith lang and stey; Bonnie Lizzie was wearied wi ganging, She had travelld a lang summer day.
16 ‘O are we near hame, Sir Donald? O are we near hame, I pray?’ ‘We’re no near hame, bonnie Lizzie, Nor yet the half o the way.’
17 They cam to a homely poor cottage, An auld man was standing by: ‘Ye’re welcome hame, Sir Donald, Ye’ve been sae lang away.’
18 ‘O call me no more Sir Donald, But call me young Donald your son, For I have a bonnie young lady Behind me for to come in.’
19 ‘Come in, come in, bonnie Lizzie, Come in, come in,’ said he; ‘Although that our cottage be little, Perhaps the better we’ll gree.
20 ‘O make us a supper, dear mother, And make it of curds an green whey; And make us a bed o green rushes, And cover it oer wi green hay.’
* * * * * *
21 ‘Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie, Why lie ye so long in the day? Ye might hae been helping my mother To make the curds and green whey.’
22 ‘O haud your tongue, Sir Donald, O haud your tongue, I pray; I wish I had neer left my mother; I can neither make curds nor whey.’
23 ‘Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie, And put on your satins so fine, For we maun to be at Kincassie Before that the clock strikes nine.’
24 But when they came to Kincassie The porter was standing by: ‘Ye’re welcome home, Sir Donald, Ye’ve been so long away.’
25 It’s down then came his auld mither, With all the keys in her hand, Saying, Take you these, bonnie Lizzie, All under them’s at your command.
* * * * *
G
Notes and Queries, Third Series, I, 463; “from recitation, September, 1828.”
1 ‘Will you go to the Highlands wi me, Leezie? Will you go to the Highlands wi me? Will you go to the Highlands wi me, Leezie? And you shall have curds and green whey.’
2 Then up spoke Leezie’s mother, A gallant old lady was she; ‘If you talk so to my daughter, High hanged I’ll gar you be.’
3 And then she changed her coaties, And then she changed them to green, And then she changed her coaties, Young Donald to gang wi.
4 But the roads grew broad and broad, And the mountains grew high and high, Which caused many a tear To fall from Leezie’s eye.
5 But the roads grew broad and broad, And the mountains grew high and high, Till they came to the glens of Glen Koustie, And out there came an old die.
6 ‘You’re welcome here, Sir Donald, And your fair ladie, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
7 ‘O call not me Sir Donald, But call me Donald your son, And I will call you mother, Till this long night be done.’
8 These words were spoken in Gaelic, And Leezie did not them ken; These words were spoken in Gaelic, And then plain English began.
9 ‘O make her a supper, mother, O make her a supper wi me; O make her a supper, mother, Of curds and green whey.’
* * * * * *
10 ‘You must get up, Leezie Lindsay, . . . . . . . You must get up, Leezie Lindsay, For it is far in the day.’
11 And then they went out together, And a braw new bigging saw she, And out cam Lord Macdonald, And his gay companie.
12 ‘You ‘re welcome here, Leezie Lindsay, The flower of a’ your kin, And you shall be Lady Macdonald, Since you have got Donald, my son.’
* * * * *
#A. a.#
Written in stanzas of two long lines.
3^2. Oh.
#b.#
#a# and #b# correspond nearly as follows: #a.# 4, 5, 2, 3^{1,2}, 8^{3,4}, 7, 9^{1,2}, 9^{3,4}, 10. #b.# 2, 3, 4, 5^{1,2}, 13^{3,4}, 14, 16^{3,4}, 17^{3,4}, 18.
1 ‘Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay? Will ye go to the Highlands wi me? Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay, And dine on fresh cruds and green whey?’
2 Then out spak Lizie’s mother, A good old lady was she; Gin ye say sic a word to my daughter, I’ll gar ye be hanged high.
3 ‘Keep weel your daughter frae me, madam; Keep weel your daughter frae me; I care as little for your daughter As ye can care for me.’
4 Then out spak Lizie’s ain maiden, A bonny young lassie was she; Says, Were I the heir to a kingdom, Awa wi young Donald I’d be.
5 ‘O say you sae to me, Nelly? And does my Nelly say sae? Maun I leave my father and mother, Awa wi young Donald to gae?’
6 And Lizie’s taen till her her stockings, And Lizie’s taen till her her shoen, And kilted up her green claithing, And awa wi young Donald she’s gane.
7 The road it was lang and weary; The braes they were ill to climb; Bonny Lizie was weary wi travelling, And a fit furder coudna win.
8 And sair, O sair, did she sigh, And the saut tear blin’d her ee: ‘Gin this be the pleasures o looing, They never will do wi me!’
9 ‘Now haud your tongue, bonny Lizie, Ye never shall rue for me; Gie me but your love for my love, It is a’ that your tocher will be.
10 ‘And haud your tongue, bonny Lizie, Altho that the gait seem lang, And you’s hae the wale o good living Whan to Kincawsen we gang.
11 ‘There my father he is an auld cobler, My mother she is an auld dey, And we’ll sleep on a bed o green rashes, And dine on fresh cruds and green whey.’
12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘You’re welcome hame, Sir Donald, You’re welcome hame to me.’
13 ‘O ca me nae mair Sir Donald; There’s a bonny young lady to come; Sae ca me nae mair Sir Donald, But ae spring Donald your son.’
14 ‘Ye’re welcome hame, young Donald, Ye’re welcome hame to me; Ye’re welcome hame, young Donald, And your bonny young lady wi ye.’
15 She’s made them a bed of green rashes, Weel coverd wi hooding o grey; Bonny Lizie was weary wi travelling, And lay till ’twas lang o the day.
16 ‘The sun looks in oer the hill-head, And the laverock is liltin gay; Get up, get up, bonny Lizie, You’ve lain till it’s lang o the day.
17 ‘You might hae been out at the shealin, Instead o sae lang to lye, And up and helping my mother To milk baith her gaits and kye.’
18 Then out spak Lizie Lindsay, The tear blindit her eye; ‘The ladies o Edinburgh city, They neither milk gaits nor kye.’
19 Then up spak young Sir Donald, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
20 ‘For I am the laird o Kincawsyn, And you are the lady free, And . . . . . . . . . . . .
#D.#
9^1. nay (not) sae, not struck out.
25^4. wi.
#E.#
29. In a much altered chap-book copy, printed by J. Morren, Edinburgh, we have:
When they came to the braes o Kinkassie, Young Lizie began for to fail; There was not a seat in the house But what was made of the green fell.
#F.#
16^1, 22^1. The Sir is an anticipation.
#G.#
7^1, 9^{1–3}. Oh.
227
BONNY LIZIE BAILLIE
#a.# ‘Bonny Lizie Balie, A New Song very much in Request,’ Laing broadsides, No 46; no date or place. #b.# ‘Bonny Lizzie Bailie,’ Maidment’s Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 13. #c.# ‘My bonny Lizzie Baillie,’ Johnson’s Museum, ed. 1853, IV, *451. #d.# ‘Lizae Baillie,’ Herd’s MSS, I, 101, and, in part, II, 121. #e.# ‘Lizie Baillie,’ Campbell MSS, I, 98. #f.# ‘Lizzie Bailie,’ Smith’s Scotish Minstrel, IV, 90. #g.# ‘Lizie Baillie,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 173.
#a#, from the collection of broadsides made by David Laing, now in the possession of Lord Rosebery, may probably have been printed at the beginning of the last century, at Edinburgh. #b# was taken “from a tolerably old copy printed at Glasgow.” Excepting the lack of two stanzas, the variations from a are mostly of slight consequence; two or three are for the better, #c# (only the beginning, stanzas 1–4^1) was communicated by C. K. Sharpe, from a “MS. copy of some antiquity.” #d-g# are of no authority. #d#, #e# are fragmentary stanzas, misremembered if not corrupted. #f# has ten stanzas, eight of which (some with a word or two changed) are from #d.# #g# is a washy rifacimento.
#d# is printed in Herd’s Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, 1776, II, 3. The copy in Johnson’s Museum, No 456, p. 469, is #d# without the first stanza.
Stanzas 19–21 of #a#, #b#, and their representatives in #d#, #e#, recall ‘The Gypsy Laddie.’
Lizzie Baillie, of Castle Gary, Stirlingshire, while paying a visit to a sister at Gartartan, Perthshire, makes an excursion to Inchmahome, an island in Loch Menteith. Here she meets Duncan Graham, who, against the opposition of her parents, persuades her to prefer a Highland husband to any Lowland or English match.
“The heroine of this song,” says Sharpe, “was a daughter of Baillie of Castle Carey, and sister, as it is said, to the wife of Macfarlane of Gartartan.” The Baillies, as Maidment has shown, acquired Castle Gary “at a comparatively recent date,” and that editor must be nearly, or quite, right in declaring the ballad to be not older than the commencement of the last century. Buchan has a bit of pseudo-history anent Lizie Baillie in his notes, at II, 326.
The story is told in a somewhat disorderly way even in a, and we may believe that we have not attained the original yet, though this copy is much older than any that has appeared in previous collections.
* * * * *
1 It fell about the Lambmass tide, When the leaves were fresh and green, Lizie Bailie is to Gartartain [gane], To see her sister Jean.
2 She had not been in Gartartain Even but a little while Till luck and fortune happend her, And she went to the Isle.
3 And when she went into the Isle She met with Duncan Grahame; So bravely as he courted her! And he convoyd her hame.
4 ‘My bonny Lizie Bailie, I’ll row thee in my pladie, If thou will go along with me And be my Highland lady.’
5 ‘If I would go along with thee, I think I were not wise; For I cannot milk cow nor ewe, Nor yet can I speak Erse.’
6 ‘Hold thy tongue, bonny Lizie Bailie, And hold thy tongue,’ said he; ‘For any thing that thou does lack, My dear, I’ll learn thee.’
7 She would not have a Lowland laird, He wears the high-heeld shoes; She will marry Duncan Grahame, For Duncan wears his trews.
8 She would not have a gentleman, A farmer in Kilsyth, But she would have the Highland man, He lives into Monteith.
9 She would not have the Lowland man, Nor yet the English laddie, But she would have the Highland man, To row her in his pladie.
10 He took her by the milk-white hand, And he convoyed her hame, And still she thought, both night and day, On bonny Duncan Grahame.
11 ‘O bonny Duncan Grahame, Why should ye me miscarry? For, if you have a love for me, We’ll meet a[t] Castle Carry.
12 ‘As I came in by Dennie bridge, And by the holland-bush, My mother took from me my cloaths, My rings, ay and my purse.
13 ‘Hold your tongue, my mother dear, For that I do not care; For I will go with Duncan Grahame Tho I should ner get mair.
14 ‘For first when I met Duncan Grahame I met with meikle joy, And many pretty Highland men Was there at my convoy.’
15 And now he is gone through the muir, And she is through the glen: ‘O bonny Lizie Bailie, When will we meet again!’
16 Shame light on these logerheads That lives in Castle Carry, That let away the bonny lass The Highland man to marry!
17 ‘O bonny Lizie, stay at home! Thy mother cannot want thee; For any thing that thou does lack, My dear, I’ll cause get thee.’
18 ‘I would not give my Duncan Grahame For all my father’s land, Although he had three lairdships more, And all at my command.’
19 And she’s cast off her silken gowns, That she weard in the Lowland, And she’s up to the Highland hills, To wear [the] gowns of tartain.
20 And she’s cast off her high-heeld shoes, Was made of the gilded leather, And she’s up to Gillecrankie, To go among the heather.
21 And she’s cast off her high-heeld shoes, And put on a pair of laigh ones, And she’s away with Duncan Grahame, To go among the brachans.
22 ‘O my bonny Lizie Bailie, Thy mother cannot want thee; And if thou go with Duncan Grahame Thou’ll be a Gilliecrankie.’
23 ‘Hold your tongue, my mother dear, And folly let thee be; Should not I fancie Duncan Grahame When Duncan fancies me?
24 ‘Hold your tongue, my father dear, And folly let thee be; For I will go with Duncan Grahame Fore all the men I see.’
25 ‘Who is it that’s done this turn? Who has done this deed?’ ‘A minister it’s, father,’ she says, ‘Lives at the Rughburn bridge.’
26 ‘A minister, daughter?’ he says, ‘A minister for mister!’ ‘O hold your tongue, my father dear, He married first my sister.’
27 ‘O fare you well, my daughter dear, So dearly as I lovd thee! Since thou wilt go to Duncan Grahame, My bonny Lizie Bailie.’
28 ‘O fare you well, my father dear, Also my sister Betty; O fare you well, my mother dear, I leave you all compleatly.’
* * * * *
#a.#
3^4. conveyd; cf. 10^2.
17^4. Suspicious. I’ll surely grant thee in #b#, which preserves the rhyme, and is otherwise preferable.
20^3. #b# avoids Gillecrankie here by reading to the Highland hills, and lacks 22.
23^2, 24^2. Hardly possible. In 23^2 #b# has, With your folly let me be.
27^1. fair ye: cf. 28^{1,3}.
#b#.
1^1, upon the.
1^3. gane.
2^1. been long at.
2^3. to her.
3^4. convoyd.
4^3. wilt.
5^1. I should: with you.
5^2. They’d think.
5^3. can neither.
6^3. dost.
6^4. I will teach.
7^2. That wears.
7^3. But she would.
7^4. he wears trews.
8^3. have a.
8^4. That lives.
11^2. you.
11^4. at.
14^3. mony a: Highlandman.
15^1. now she.
15^2. And he.
15^3. O my.
17^3. dost want.
17^4. I’ll surely grant thee: better.
19^1. Now she’s: gown.
19^2. wore: Lowlands.
19^4. the gowns.
20^2. oiled for the gilded.
20^3. to the Highland hills.
20^4, 21^4. gang.
21^2. And wanting.
22. Wanting.
23^2. With your folly let me be.
23^4. ‘Fore all the men I see.
24 (or, 23^4 24^{1–3}). Wanting.
25^1. that has.
25^2. Or who hath.
25^4. Red Burn.
27^1. So for O.
27^2. love.
27^3. go with.
27^4. Thou’lt get no gear from me.
#c.#
Only 1–4^1 given.
1^1. It was in and about the Martinmass.
Absurd. Lammas, even, is late enough for leaves to be fresh and green; in fact both are verbiage.
1^3. gane.
2^1. She was nae in.
2^2. Even wanting.
2^3. When luck.
2^4. she gaed.
3^1. When she gaed to the bonny Isle.
#d.#
11 stanzas: 1^{3,4}, 3^{2,4}; 4; 5, in two forms, one struck out; 6 (?), 20, 19, 9, 11 (?), 12, 18, 16.
5. ‘I am sure they wad nae ca me wise, Gin I wad gang wi you, sir, For I can neither card nor spin, Nor yet milk ewe nor cow, sir.’
6. ‘My bonie Liza Baillie, Let nane o these things daunt ye; Ye’ll hae nae need to card or spin, Your mither weel can want ye.’
9. She wad nae hae a Lawland laird, Nor be an English ladie, But she wad gang wi Duncan Grame, And row her in his plaidie.
11. (?)She was nae ten miles frae the town When she began to weary; She often looked back and said, ‘Farewell to Castlecarry!’
12. The first place I saw my Duncan Grame Was near yon holland-bush; My father took frae me my rings, My rings but and my purse.
19. And she’s cast aff her bonie goun, Made o the silk and sattin, And she’s put on a tartan plaid, To row amang the bracken. (21^4.)
20. Now she’s cast aff her bonie shoon, Made o the gilded leather, And she’s put on her Highland brogues, To skip amang the heather.
This is enough to show the quality of #d#. It has been extensively corrupted. 11 is out of character, and suggested by ‘Lizie Lindsay.’
#e.#
Stanzas 4, 5, 17, 20, 19, 9, only.
5. ‘If I wad gang alang wi you They wadna ca me wise, sir; For I can neither card nor spin, Nor yet can I speak Erse, sir.’
9. She wadna hae a Lawland laird, Nor be a English lady, But she’s awa wi Duncan Grahame He’s rowd her in his plaidy.
17. ‘My bonny Lizie Baillie, Your minny canna want you; Sae let the trooper gang his lane, And carry his ain portmanteau.’
19. Nearly as in #d#. A’ wrought wi gowd an satin: To sport amang.
20. Nearly as in #d#. Spanish leather.
17^{3,4} is not intelligible, and may have slipped in from some “Trooper” ballad.
#f.#
10 stanzas, edited from some copy of #d#. f 3–9, 10==d 2–8, 12, nearly.
1^1. Lammas time.
1^2. trees were.
1^3. L. B. gaed to Garter town.
2,3. She’d no been lang in Garter town Till she met wi Duncan Graham, Wha kindly there saluted her, And wad convoy her hame.
4^2. Ye’s hae a tartan plaidie.
9^3. wad gang wi Duncan Graham.
9^4. And wear a tartan plaidie.
19^1. her lowland braws.
19^3. put on the worset gown.
19^4. To skip amang the breckin.
#g.#
14 stanzas.
2. She meant to go unto that place To stay a little while; But mark what fortune her befell When she went to the Isle.
It fell out upon a day, Sheep-shearing at an end, Lizie Baillie she walkd out, To see a distant friend.
3. But going down in a low glen She met wi Duncan Græme, Who courted her along the way, Likewise convoyed her hame.
The whole ballad is treated with the like freedom and feebleness.
22. ‘O stay at hame,’ her father said, ‘Your mither cannot want thee; And gin ye gang awa this night We’ll hae a Killycrankie.’
Killycrankie for a row: a droll emendation of #a#, and the only spirited line in the piece.
228
GLASGOW PEGGIE
#A.# ‘Glasgow Peggie,’ Sharpe’s Ballad Book, p. 40.
#B.# #a.# ‘Glasgow Peggy,’ Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 174. b. Kinloch MSS, VII, 259. c. ‘Glasgow Peggie,’ Aytoun’s Ballads of Scotland, 1859, II, 230.
#C.# #a.# ‘Galla Water,’ ‘Bonny Peggy,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 89. b. ‘Glasgow Peggie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 116, and Sharpe’s Ballad Book, ed. 1880, p. 137, one stanza.
#D.# ‘Donald of the Isles,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 155.
#E.# ‘Glasgow Peggy,’ Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 70.
#F.# ‘The Young Maclean,’ Alexander Laing’s MS., p. 5.
“Common in stalls,” says Motherwell, “under this title [‘Glasgow Peggie’], or that of the ‘Earl of Hume,’ or ‘The Banks of Omey:’” Minstrelsy, p. xciii, note 133. In his MS., p. 90, the stall-copy is said to be better than the imperfect #C a#.
A young Highlander comes to Glasgow and is smitten with bonnie Peggie. Her father says the Highlander may steal cow or ewe, but not Peggie; and her mother asks in disgust whether her daughter, so long the object of her care, would end with going off in such company. For all that, Peggie goes. The Earl of Argyle, or the Earl of Hume, or the young Earl of Hume, takes this much to heart. The pair ride to a low glen in the north country, and lie down on the grass. The Lowland lass has some compunctions, stimulated by the lack of the good beds at home. The captivating Highlander reassures her. He has the same comforts which she misses; they are his, and will soon be hers. He points out a fine castle which is his too, and he himself is Donald, Earl of Skye, and she will be a lady. #B# and #E#, to make the contrast of her two homes the greater, maintain that, despite her regrets for the comforts of her father’s mansion, all that Peggie left was a wee cot-house and a wee kail-yairdie.
In the fragment #F#, Maclean replaces Macdonald.
* * * * *
A
Sharpe’s Ballad Book, No XV, p. 40.
1 ‘As I cam in by Glasgow town, The Highland troops were a’ before me, And the bonniest lass that eer I saw, She lives in Glasgow, they ca her Peggie.
2 ‘I wad gie my bonnie black horse, So wad I my gude grey naigie, If I were twa hundred miles in the north, And nane wi me but my bonnie Peggie.’
3 Up then spak her father dear, Dear wow! but he was wondrous sorrie; ‘Weel may ye steal a cow or a yowe, But ye dare nae steal my bonnie Peggie.’
4 Up then spak her mother dear, Dear wow! but she spak wondrous sorrie; Now since I have brought ye up this length, Wad ye gang awa wi a Highland fellow?’
5 He set her on his bonnie black horse, He set himsel on his gude gray naigie, And they have ridden oer hills and dales, And he’s awa wi his bonnie Peggie.
6 They have ridden oer hills and dales, They have ridden oer mountains many, Until they cam to a low, low glen, And there he’s lain down wi his bonnie Peggie.
7 Up then spak the Earl of Argyle, Dear wow! but he spak wondrous sorrie; ‘The bonniest lass in a’ Scotland Is off and awa wi a Highland fellow!’
8 Their bed was of the bonnie green grass, Their blankets war o the hay sae bonnie; He folded his philabeg below her head, And he’s lain down wi his bonnie Peggie.
9 Up then spak the bonny Lowland lass, And wow! but she spak wondrous sorrie; ‘I’se warrant my mither wad hae a gay sair heart To see me lien here wi you, my Willie.’
10 ‘In my father’s house there’s feather-beds, Feather-beds, and blankets mony; They’re a’ mine, and they’ll sune be thine, And what needs your mither be sae sorrie, Peggie?
11 ‘Dinna you see yon nine score o kye, Feeding on yon hill sae bonnie? They’re a’ mine, and they’ll sune be thine, And what needs your mither be sorrie, Peggie?
12 ‘Dinna ye see yon nine score o sheep, Feeding on yon brae sae bonnie? They’re a’ mine, and they’ll sune be thine, And what needs your mither be sorrie for ye?
13 ‘Dinna ye see yon bonnie white house, Shining on yon brae sae bonnie? And I am the Earl of the Isle of Skye, And surely my Peggie will be ca’d a lady.’
* * * * *
B
#a.# Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 174; from recitation, #b.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 259; “from Mrs K.’s recitation.” #c.# Aytoun’s Ballads of Scotland, 1859, II, 230.
1 The Lawland lads think they are fine, But the Hieland lads are brisk and gaucy, And they are awa, near Glasgow toun, To steal awa a bonnie lassie.
2 ‘I wad gie my gude brown steed, And sae wad I my gude grey naigie, That I war fifty miles frae the toun, And nane wi me but my bonnie Peggy.’
3 But up then spak the auld gudman, And vow! but he spak wondrous saucie; ‘Ye may steal awa our cows and ewes, But ye sanna get our bonnie lassie.’
4 ‘I have got cows and ewes anew, I’ve got gowd and gear already; Sae I dinna want your cows nor ewes, But I will hae your bonnie Peggy.’
5 ‘I’ll follow you oure moss and muir, I’ll follow you oure mountains many, I’ll follow you through frost and snaw, I’ll stay na langer wi my daddie.’
6 He set her on a gude brown steed, Himself upon a gude grey naigie; They’re oure hills, and oure dales, And he’s awa wi his bonnie Peggy.
7 As they rade out by Glasgow toun, And doun by the hills o Achildounie, There they met the Earl of Hume, And his auld son, riding bonnie.
8 Out bespak the Earl of Hume, And O! but he spak wondrous sorry; ‘The bonniest lass about a’ Glasgow toun This day is awa wi a Hieland laddie!’
9 As they rade bye auld Drymen toun, The lasses leuch and lookit saucy, That the bonniest lass they ever saw Sud be riding awa wi a Hieland laddie.
10 They rode on through moss and muir, And so did they owre mountains many, Until that they cam to yonder glen, And she’s lain doun wi her Hieland laddie.
11 Gude green hay was Peggy’s bed, And brakens war her blankets bonnie, Wi his tartan plaid aneath her head; And she’s lain doun wi her Hieland laddie.
12 ‘There’s beds and bowsters in my father’s house, There’s sheets and blankets, and a’ thing ready, And wadna they be angry wi me, To see me lie sae wi a Hieland laddie!’
13 ‘Tho there’s beds and beddin in your father’s house, Sheets and blankets, and a’ made ready, Yet why sud they be angry wi thee, Though I be but a Hieland laddie?
14 ‘It’s I hae fifty acres of land, It’s a’ plowd and sawn already; I am Donald, the Lord of Skye, And why sud na Peggy be calld a lady?
15 ‘I hae fifty gude milk kye, A’ tied to the staws already; I am Donald, the Lord of Skye, And why sud na Peggy be calld a lady?
16 ‘See ye no a’ yon castles and towrs? The sun sheens owre them a sae bonnie; I am Donald, the Lord of Skye, I think I’ll mak ye as blythe as onie.’
17 A’ that Peggy left behind Was a cot-house and a wee kail-yardie; Now I think she is better by far Than tho she had got a Lawland lairdie.
* * * * *
C
#a.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 89; from recitation. #b.# “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 116, and Sharpe’s Ballad Book, ed. 1880, p. 137, the last stanza.
* * * * *
1 ‘He set her on his bonnie black horse, He set himsel on his good gray naigie; He has ridden over hills, he has ridden over dales, And he’s quite awa wi my bonny Peggy.
2 ‘Her brow it is brent and her middle it is jimp, Her arms are long and her fingers slender; One sight of her eyes makes my very heart rejoice, And wae’s my heart that we should sunder!’
3 His sheets were of the good green hay, His blankets were of the brackens bonnie; He’s laid his trews beneath her head, And she’s lain down wi her Highland laddie.
4 ‘I am my mother’s ae daughter, And she had nae mair unto my daddie, And this night she would have a sore, sore heart For to see me lye down with a Highland laddie.’
5 ‘Ye are your mother’s ae daughter, And she had nae mae unto your daddie; This night she need not have a sore, sore heart For to see you lie down with a Highland laddie.
6 ‘I have four-and-twenty acres of land, It is ploughed, it is sown, and is always ready, And you shall have servants at your command; And why should you slight a Highland laddie?
7 ‘I have four-and-twenty good milk-kye, They are feeding on yon meadow bonnie; Besides, I have both lambs and ewes, Going low in the haughs o Galla water.
8 ‘My house it stands on yon hill-side, My broadsword, durk, and bow is ready, And you shall have servants at your command; And why may not Peggy be called a lady?’
* * * * *
D
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 155.
1 A bonny laddie brisk and gay, A handsome youth sae brisk and gaddie, And he is on to Glasgow town, To steal awa his bonny Peggy.
2 When he came into Glasgow town, Upon her father’s green sae steady, ‘Come forth, come forth, old man,’ he says, ‘For I am come for bonny Peggy.’
3 Out it spake her father then; ‘Begone from me, ye Highland laddie; There’s nane in a’ the West Country Dare steal from me my bonny Peggy.’
4 ‘I’ve ten young men all at my back, That ance to me were baith true and steady; If ance I call, they’ll soon be nigh, And bring to me my bonny Peggy.’
5 Out it spake her mother then, Dear! but she spake wondrous saucy; Says, Ye may steal my cow or ewe, But I’ll keep sight o my ain lassie.
6 ‘Hold your tongue, old woman,’ he says, ‘Ye think your wit it is fu ready; For cow nor ewe I ever stole, But I will steal your bonny Peggy.’
7 Then all his men they boldly came, That was to him baith true and steady, And thro the ha they quickly went, And forth they carried bonny Peggy.
8 Her father gae mony shout and cry, Her mother cursed the Highland laddie; But he heard them as he heard them not, But fixd his eye on bonny Peggy.
9 He set her on his milk-white steed, And he himsell on his grey naigie; Still along the way they rode, And he’s awa wi bonny Peggy.
10 Says, I wad gie baith cow and ewe, And sae woud I this tartan plaidie, That I was far into the north, And alang wi me my bonny Peggy.
11 As they rode down yon pleasant glen, For trees and brambles were right mony, There they met the Earl o Hume, And his young son, were riding bonny.
12 Then out it spake the young Earl Hume, Dear! but he spake wondrous gaudie; ‘I’m wae to see sae fair a dame Riding alang wi a Highland laddie.’
13 ‘Hold your tongue, ye young Earl Hume, O dear! but ye do speak right gaudie; There’s nae a lord in a’ the south Dare eer compete wi a Highland laddie.’
14 Then he rade five miles thro the north, Thro mony hills sae rough and scroggie, Till they came down to a low glen, And he lay down wi bonny Peggy.
15 Then he inclosed her in his arms, And rowd her in his tartan plaidie: ‘There are blankets and sheets in my father’s house, How have I lien down wi a Highland laddie!’
16 Says he, There are sheep in my father’s fauld, And every year their wool is ready; By the same our debts we pay, Altho I be but a Highland laddie.
17 ‘There are fifty cows in my father’s byre, That all are tyed to the stakes and ready; Five thousand pounds I hae ilk year, Altho I be but a Highland laddie.
18 ‘My father has fifty well shod horse, Besides your steed and my grey naigie; I’m Donald o the Isle o Sky, Why may not you be ca’d a lady?
19 ‘See ye not yon fine castle, On yonder hill that stands sae gaudie? And there we’ll win this very night, Where ye’ll enjoy your Highland laddie.’
* * * * *
E
Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 70, as sang by an old woman living near Keith, Banffshire.
1 The Hielan lads sae brisk and braw, The Hielan lads sae brisk and gaudie, Hae gane awa to Glasgow town, To steal awa the bonny Peggy.
2 As they cam on to Glasgow town, And passd the banks and braes sae bonny, There they espied the weel-faurd may, And she said to them her name was Peggy.
3 Their chief did meet her father soon, And O! but he was wondrous angry; Says, Ye may steal my owsen and kye, But ye maunna steal my bonnie Peggy.
4 ‘O haud your tongue, ye gude auld man, For I’ve got cows and ewes already; I come na to steal your owsen and kye, But I will steal your bonny Peggy.’
5 He set her on a milk-white steed, And he himsel rode a gude grey naigie, And they are on mony miles to the north, And nane wi them but the bonny Peggy.
6 ‘I hae fifty acres o gude red lan, And a’ weel ploughd and sawn already, And why should your father be angry wi me, And ca me naething but a Hielan laddie?
7 ‘I hae twenty weel mounted steeds, Black and brown and grey, already; And ilk ane o them is tended by a groom, Altho I be but a Hielan laddie.
8 ‘I hae now ten thousand sheep, A’ feeding on yon braes sae bonny, And ilka hundred a shepherd has, Altho I be but a Hielan laddie.
9 ‘I hae a castle on yonder hill, It’s a’ set roun wi windows many; I’m Lord M’Donald o the whole Isle of Skye; And why shouldna Peggy be ca’d my Lady?’
10 Now a’ that Peggy had before Was a wee cot-house and a little kail-yairdie, But now she is lady o the whole Isle of Skye, And now bonny Peggy is ca’d my Lady.
* * * * *
F
Alexander Laing’s MS., 1829, p. 5.
1 The young Maclean is brisk an bauld, The young Maclean is rash an ready. An he is to the Lowlands gane, To steal awa a bonnie ladye.
* * * * * *
2 Out an spak her auld father, An O! but he spak wondrous angry; ‘Ye may steal my cows an ewes, But ye shall not steal my dochter Peggie.’
3 ‘O haud your tongue, ye gude auld man, For I hae gear enough already; I cum na for your cows an ewes, But I cum for your dochter Peggie.’
4 He set her on a milk-white steed, Himsel upon a gude gray naggie, An they are to the Highlands gane, The young Maclean an his bonnie ladye.
* * * * *
#B. b.#
Stanzas 7, 3, 12^2, 6, 4.
3. And then out and spak her father dear, And oh! but he was wondrous angrie; ‘It’s ye may steal my cows and ews, But ye maunna steal my bonnie Peggy.’
4. ‘Hold your tongue, you silly auld man, For ye’ve said eneuch already; I’ll neither steal your cows nor ews, But I wat I’ll steal your bonnie Peggy.’
6^1. He’s mounted her on a milk-white.
6^2. are ouer hill and they’re ouer dale.
6^4. he’s clean awa.
7^1. As I cam in by.
7^3. I met.
7^4. son, war.
12^2. Feather beds and bowsters many. (A, 10.^2)
#c.#
“I have carefully collated these [Kinloch’s copy, #B a#, and Sharpe’s, #A#] with another copy, giving, for the most part, the preference to the version of Mr Kinloch.” Readings (quite unimportant) which do not occur in #B a#, #A#:
1^3. they hae come doun to Glasgow toun.
2^1. O I.
2^3. were a hundred.
4^3. or.
After 4, cf. #A# 4^{1,2}:
But up then spak the auld gudewife, And wow! but she lookd wondrous yellow.
5^{1–3}. follow him.
5^4. I’ll bide.
7^1. out frae.
7^2. And by the side o Antermony.
7^4. Wi him his.
8^2. sadly for sorry.
10^1. It’s they.
11^4. wi the.
12^1. There’s mair than ae bed in.
16^2. on them.
16^3. It’s I.
#C.# #b.#
8. In a letter of John Hamilton’s to Sir W. Scott, dated August 17, 1803 (“Scotch Ballads,” etc., No 116), this stanza is given thus:
My palace stands on yon burn-brae, My bow is bent an arrows ready; My name is Donald, in the Isle of Sky, Although I be but a Highland laddie.
Scott probably trusted to his memory when making the following note to a, printed in Sharpe’s Ballad Book, ed. 1880:
‘I have a dirk and a gude claymore, My bow is bent and my arrow ready; My castle stands in the Isle of Skye, Although I am but a Highland laddie.’
“The above stanza, which I got from the late Mr Hamilton, music-seller in Edinburgh, seems to belong to ‘Glasgow Peggie.’”
229
EARL CRAWFORD
#A. a.# ‘Earl Crawford,’ Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 290, from recitation. #b.# From recitation.
#B.# ‘Earl Crawford,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 61. Abridged, in Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 68.
#A.# One of seven handsome sisters makes a great match with the Earl of Crawford. In a fit of jealousy at the fondness which he shows his young son, Ladie Lillie addresses to her husband a quip on that head, to which the earl replies in the same tone. But the matter does not end there. The earl sets his wife on a horse, with her son, and sends her home to her father at Stobhall, never to enter his gates again. Her father is surprised that she should come without notice or attendants; she tells him that a word from her merry mouth has parted her and her lord. The father offers to make a better match for her; she would not give a kiss of Crawford’s for all her father’s gold. She sends a messenger to the earl to see whether he retains affection for her; word is brought back that she is to stay with her father and never enter Crawford’s gates again. Her heart breaks. Her father puts on black, rides to Crawford’s, and finds the earl just setting forth with a party to bring Lady Lillie home. Upon learning that his wife is dead, the earl declares that the sun shall nevermore shine on him.
#B.# Lady Crawford rides to her husband’s castle in person to see if the earl will pity her. He shuts his gates and steeks his doors, and will neither come down to speak with her himself nor send his man. She retires weeping. The earl in turn now goes to the castle where his lady is lying, to see if she will pity him. She shuts the gates and steeks the doors, and will neither come down to speak with him nor send her waiting-maid. Not the less she takes to her bed, both she and Crawford die before morning, and both are buried in one tomb.
The late Earl of Crawford recognized an agreement with fact in some of the details of this story: Christie, I, 289. David, eleventh earl of Crawford, who succeeded his father in 1574, married Lilias Drummond, daughter of David, second Lord Drummond, the Laird of Stobhall. This was considered so great a match for the lady that a tocher was given with her “far beyond what was customary in those times, to wit, ten thousand merks.” Although the peerages mention no children by this marriage, there is evidence that Earl David had by Lilias “an only child, David, who died in infancy.” “These collateral verities” seemed to Earl Crawford “to found a presumption in favor of the truth of the main incident of the ballad.” Crawford did not live at Crawford Castle, as the ballad has it. “That place had ceased to be the family residence for a long while. Earl David lived at Finhaven Castle, in Angus; not too far from Stobhall to be in keeping with the riding to and fro recorded in the ballad.”
The first lines of the ballad are probably borrowed from ‘Gil Brenton:’ see No 5, #A# 43, #B# 34, #C# 1, #D# 1, #H# 1, 2. #A# 11, 12, #B# 15, 16, is a commonplace: see most of the versions of ‘Jamie Douglas,’ No 204, and of ‘The Braes o Yarrow,’ No 214, and ‘Clerk Saunders,’ No 69, #E# 15, #G# 27.
#B# is translated by Gerhard, p. 108.
* * * * *
A
#a.# Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 290, as taken down 1867–73, from the recitation of Mrs Mary Robertson, wife of James Robertson, shoemaker, Bogmoor, near Fochabers. #b.# Obtained by Mr Macmath, March 25, 1890, from the daughter of Mrs Robertson, Mrs Mary Thomson, wife of James Thomson, gardener at Gordon Castle gardens, Fochabers.
1 O we were sisters, sisters seven, We were a comely crew to see, And some got lairds, and some got lords, And some got knichts o hie degree; And I mysel got the Earl o Crawford, And wasna that a great match for me!
2 It was at fifteen that I was married, And at sixteen I had a son; And wasna that an age ower tender For a lady to hae her first-born! And wasna, etc.
3 But it fell ance upon a day I gaed into the garden green, And naebody was therein walking But Earl Crawford and his young son.
4 ‘I wonder at you, ye Earl Crawford, I wonder at you wi your young son; Ye daut your young son mair than your Lillie; [I’m sure you got na him your lane.’]
5 [He turned about upon his heel, I wite an angry man was he; Says, If I got nae my young son my lane, Bring me here the one that helpet me.]
6 [‘O hold your tongue, my Earl Crawford, And a’ my folly lat it be; There was nane at the gettin o oor son, Nae body only but you and me.’]
7 He set her on a milk-white steed, Her little young son her before; Says, Ye maun gae to bonny Stobha, For ye will enter my yates no more.
8 When she cam to her father’s bowers, She lichtit low down on the stane, And wha sae ready as her auld father To welcome Lady Lillie in?
9 ‘O how’s a’ wi you, my daughter Lillie, That ye come here sae hastilie? And how’s a’ wi’ the Earl o Crawford, That he didna send a boy wi thee?’
10 ‘O haud your tongue now, my old father, And ye’ll lat a’ your folly be; For ae word that my merry mou spak Has parted my good lord and me.’
11 ‘O haud your tongue, my daughter Lillie, And a’ your follies lat them be; I’ll double your portion ten times ower, And a better match I’ll get for thee.’
12 ‘O haud your tongue now, my old father, And a’ your folly lat it be; I wouldna gie ae kiss o Crawford For a’ the goud that ye can gie.
13 ‘Whare will I get a bonny boy, That’s willin to win meat and fee, Wha will gae on to Earl Crawford An see an’s heart be fawn to me?’
14 When he cam to the yates o Crawford, They were a’ sitting down to dine: ‘How comes it now, ye Earl Crawford, Ye arena takin Lady Lillie hame?’
15 ‘Ye may gae tell her Lady Lillie, And ye maun neither lee nor len, She may stay in her father’s bowers, For she’ll not enter my yates again.’
16 When he cam back to her father’s yates, He lichtit low down on his knee: ‘What news, what news, my bonny boy? What news, what news hae ye to me ?’
17 ‘I’m bidden tell you, Lady Lillie— I’m bidden neither to lee nor len— She may stay in her father’s bowers, For she’ll not enter my yates again.’
18 She stretched out her lily hand, Says, ‘Adieu, adieu to ane and a! Adieu, adieu to Earl Crawford!’ Wi that her sair heart brak in twa.
19 Then dowie, dowie her father raise up, And dowie, dowie the black put on, And dowie, dowie he mounted the brown, And dowie, dowie sat thereon.
20 And dowie rade to the yates o Crawford, And when to Crawford’s yates he came, They were a’ dressd in the robes o scarlet, Just gaun to tak Lady Lillie hame.
21 ‘Ye may cast aff your robes o scarlet— I wyte they set you wondrous weel— And now put on the black sae dowie, And come and bury your Lady Lill.’
22 He took his hat into his hand, And laid it low down by his knee: ‘An it be true that Lillie’s dead, The sun shall nae mair shine on me.’
* * * * *
B
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 61.
1 O we were seven bonny sisters, As fair women as fair could be, And some got lairds, and some got lords, And some got knights o high degree: When I was married to Earl Crawford, This was the fate befell to me.
2 When we had been married for some time, We walked in our garden green, And aye he clappd his young son’s head, And aye he made sae much o him.
3 I turnd me right and round about, And aye the blythe blink in my ee: ‘Ye think as much o your young son As ye do o my fair body.
4 ‘What need ye clap your young son’s head? What need ye make so much o him? What need ye clap your young son’s head? I’m sure ye gotna him your lane.’
5 ‘O if I gotna him my lane, Show here the man that helpëd me; And for these words your ain mouth spoke Heir o my land he neer shall be.’
6 He calld upon his stable-groom To come to him right speedilie: ‘Gae saddle a steed to Lady Crawford, Be sure ye do it hastilie.
7 ‘His bridle gilt wi gude red gowd, That it may glitter in her ee; And send her on to bonny Stobha, All her relations for to see.’
8 Her mother lay oer the castle wa, And she beheld baith dale and down, And she beheld her Lady Crawford, As she came riding to the town.
9 ‘Come here, come here, my husband dear, This day ye see not what I see; For here there comes her Lady Crawford, Riding alane upon the lee.’
10 When she came to her father’s yates, She tirled gently at the pin: ‘If ye sleep, awake, my mother dear, Ye’ll rise lat Lady Crawford in.’
11 ‘What news, what news, ye Lady Crawford, That ye come here so hastilie?’ ‘Bad news, bad news, my mother dear, For my gude lord’s forsaken me.’
12 ‘O wae’s me for you, Lady Crawford, This is a dowie tale to me; Alas! you were too young married To thole sic cross and misery.’
13 ‘O had your tongue, my mother dear, And ye’ll lat a’ your folly be; It was a word my merry mouth spake That sinderd my gude lord and me.’
14 Out it spake her brither then, Aye as he stept ben the floor: ‘My sister Lillie was but eighteen years When Earl Crawford ca’ed her a whore.
15 ‘But had your tongue, my sister dear, And ye’ll lat a’ your mourning bee; I’ll wed you to as fine a knight, That is nine times as rich as hee.’
16 ‘O had your tongue, my brither dear, And ye’ll lat a’ your folly bee; I’d rather yae kiss o Crawford’s mouth Than a’ his gowd and white monie.
17 ‘But saddle to me my riding-steed, And see him saddled speedilie, And I will on to Earl Crawford’s, And see if he will pity me.’
18 Earl Crawford lay o’er castle wa, And he beheld baith dale and down, And he beheld her Lady Crawford, As she came riding to the town.
19 He called ane o his livery men To come to him right speedilie: ‘Gae shut my yates, gae steek my doors, Keep Lady Crawford out frae me.’
20 When she came to Earl Crawford’s yates, She tirled gently at the pin: ‘O sleep ye, wake ye, Earl Crawford, Ye’ll open, lat Lady Crawford in.
21 ‘Come down, come down, O Earl Crawford, And speak some comfort unto me; And if ye winna come yoursell, Ye’ll send your gentleman to me.’
22 ‘Indeed I winna come mysell, Nor send my gentleman to thee; For I tauld you when we did part Nae mair my spouse ye’d ever bee.’
23 She laid her mouth then to the yates, And aye the tears drapt frae her ee; Says, Fare ye well, Earl Crawford’s yates, You again I’ll nae mair see.
24 Earl Crawford calld on his stable-groom To come to him right speedilie, And sae did he his waiting-man, That did attend his fair bodie.
25 ‘Ye will gae saddle for me my steed, And see and saddle him speedilie, And I’ll gang to the Lady Crawford, And see if she will pity me.’
26 Lady Crawford lay oer castle-wa, And she beheld baith dale and down, And she beheld him Earl Crawford, As he came riding to the town.
27 Then she has calld ane o her maids To come to her right speedilie: ‘Gae shut my yates, gae steek my doors, Keep Earl Crawford out frae me.’
28 When he came to Lady Crawford’s yates, He tirled gently at the pin: ‘Sleep ye, wake ye, Lady Crawford, Ye’ll rise and lat Earl Crawford in.
29 ‘Come down, come down, O Lady Crawford, Come down, come down, and speak wi me; And gin ye winna come yoursell, Ye’ll send your waiting-maid to me.’
30 ‘Indeed I winna come mysell, Nor send my waiting-maid to thee; Sae take your ain words hame again At Crawford castle ye tauld me.
31 ‘O mother dear, gae make my bed, And ye will make it saft and soun, And turn my face unto the west, That I nae mair may see the sun.’
32 Her mother she did make her bed, And she did make it saft and soun; True were the words fair Lillie spake, Her lovely eyes neer saw the sun.
33 The Earl Crawford mounted his steed, Wi sorrows great he did ride hame; But ere the morning sun appeard This fine lord was dead and gane.
34 Then on ae night this couple died, And baith were buried in ae tomb: Let this a warning be to all, Their pride may not bring them low down.
#A. a.#
4^4, 5, 6. Omitted; supplied from #b#. Dean Christie notes that the lines omitted will be found in a copy which, with other things of the kind, he had destined for use in this collection. Unfortunately, and quite unaccountably, these pieces never came to hand.
19^2. put on the black.
#b.#
Of #b#, which was obtained some twenty years after #a# was written down, Mrs Thomson says: Enclosed is the whole of the ballad, as I had it from my mother.... She never sang those two verses to us [5, 6]. She only repeated them to me when Dean Christie wanted the ballad. We may, perhaps, infer from these last words that the ballad was originally taken down by the daughter from her mother’s recitation, and not by Dean Christie. It is to be observed that the mother was still living in 1890, but when #b# was committed to paper is not said.
#a#
8^{3, 4}, 9^{1, 2}, are wanting in #b#; #b# has a stanza, an inevitable one, which #a# lacks, in answer to 13.
1^1. It’s we were sisters and.
1^3. Some got dukes.
1^4. got men.
1^5. But I: Earl Crawford.
1^6. a meet.
2^1. Fifteen years that.
2^2. And sixteen years I.
2^3. that a tender age.
3^2. We were walking in yon.
3^3. There was nae body walking there.
3^4. But the earl himself and.
4^1. you, Earl.
4^2. You mak sae much o your.
4^3. I wonder at you, Earl Crawford.
4^4, 5, 6. Inserted in #a#.
7^2. little son he set her.
7^3. gee on to your father’s bowers.
8^2. down on her knee.
8^{3, 4}, 9^{1, 2}, wanting.
9^3. Hoo’s a’, hoo’s a.
9^4. thee wi.
10^1. now wanting.
10^2. And a’ my folly lat it.
10^3. For one: mouth.
11^1. my Lady.
11^2. And I’ll lat a’ your folly.
11^3. portion oer again.
11^4. I’ll provide for.
12^1. now wanting.
12^2. And speak nae mair o this to me.
12^3. For I wad nae.
12^4. ye could.
13^3. That will: Crawford’s.
13^4. see gin’s hairt be faen tae.
After 13:
‘O here am I, a bonny boy, That’s willin to win meat and fee, That will go on to Earl Crawford’s, And see an’s hairt be faen to thee.’
14^1. to Earl Crawford’s gates.
14^2. He lighted low down on a stane.
14^3. Says, I wonder at you, E. C.
14^4. You’r nae gaun to tak.
15^1. tell to Lady.
15^2. Ye may neither.
15^3. stay weel in.
15^4. she’ll never.
16^1. came to her father’s bowers.
17^1. tell to Lady.
17^3. You’r bidden stay well in your.
17^4. For yu’ll never enter his.
18^1. lily-white.
18^3. to the Earl himsell.
18^4. And wi that her bonny hairt did brack.
19^1. Dowie, dowie raise up her father.
19^2. And wanting: the black put on.
19^3. And wanting: his steed he mounted.
20^1. When he came to Earl Crawford’s gates.
20^2. They were all going to dine.
20^3. And were all drest in robes of white.
21^1. He says, You may put aff the robes o white.
21^3. And ye’ll put on the dowie black.
22^1. Earl Crawford took his hat in’s hand.
22^3. Says, If this be true that L[ady] L[illie’s].
22^4. sin shall never shine.
230
THE SLAUGHTER OF THE LAIRD OF MELLERSTAIN
In a folio volume with the title “Miscellanies,” the last piece in the volume, Abbotsford.
Birrel’s Diary has this entry under date of January 3, 1603: “The 3 of Januar Johne Hai[t]lie of Millstanes slaine at the Salt Tron be Williame Home hes guidfather. This William of Ball[int]a wes of the hous of Cowdenknowis.” P. 57. In a proclamation of the Privy Council against reset of criminals, 20th January, 1603, the list of cases begins with “the reset of the persons who lately most shamefully and barbarously slew the Laird of Mellestanes.” Register, VI, 525 f. There is nothing to show that these persons were ever brought to justice, and the efforts made by the public authorities to stop hostilities between the families concerned were, as usual, not readily successful. April 28, 1608, the parties to the “feud between James Haitlie, now of Mellirstanes [son of John], and Mr James Home of Eccles, on account of the slaughter of John Haitlie of Mellirstanes,” are ordered to appear before the Council on the 12th of May following, to be reconciled and to chop hands together. Register, VIII, 81 f.
An entry of the 4th of December, 1599, censures Sir George Home, sheriff of Berwick, for not proceeding against “William Home, younger, called of Coldenknowis and now of Ballinta, who slew within the said shire Mr Alexander Dicksoun,” and was denounced therefor 29th December, 1596. This William we may presume to have been the undegenerate son of the William whom Birrel calls Mellerstain’s “guidfather.” Register, VI, 57.
The lady of st. 1 was Marion Lumsden (otherwise Mariot, Margaret), “Lady Mellirstanes,” “relicta Joannis Haitlie de Mellerstanes.” Register P. C., VIII, 101; 366, Register of the Great Seal, VI, 722. Mellerstain stands on a rising ground near the right bank of the Eden, 1^2. Cowdenknows in 3^1 may have been Sir John Home of Cowdenknows, named as one of the curators of James Haitlie (a minor in 1607). Earlstoun is not determinate. Bemerside is an alternative reading for Earlstoun. The laird of Bemerside at the date of the slaughter was the turbulent James Haig. The lady in st. 4 is looking in several directions for the arrival of her husband’s body. (I have not found Fieldiesha and Yirdandstane.) The Salt Tron is a locality of much note in the history of Edinburgh: see Wilson’s Memorials, p. 249.
This fragment appears to have come into Sir Walter Scott’s hands through Mr W. Yellowlees, who filled out two of the defective stanzas, and appended some remarks under the date of 29th October, 1828.[129]
* * * * *
1 . . . . . . . As they came in by the Eden side, They heard a lady lamenting sair, Bewailing the time she was a bride.
2 . . . . . . . A stately youth of blude and lane, . . . . . . . John Hately, the laird of Mellerstain.
3 ‘Cowdenknows, had ye nae lack? And Earlstoun, had ye nae shame? Ye took him away beside my back, But ye never saw to bring him hame.’
4 And she has lookit to Fieldiesha, So has she through Yirdandstane; She lookit to Earlstoun, and she saw the Fans, But he’s coming hame by West Gordon.
5 And she staggerd and she stood,
6 ’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . wude; How can I keep in my wits, When I look on my husband’s blood?’
7 ‘Had we been men as we are women, And been at his back when he was slain, It should a been tauld for mony a lang year, The slaughter o the laird of Mellerstain.’
* * * * *
2^4 [James/John]Hately
3^2 [Earlstoun/Bemerside] had.
Between 3 and 4 are two half stanzas which belong to ‘James Hatley,’ No. 241, and are there given.
4^1. Fieldies ha.
4^2. yird and stane.
231
THE EARL OF ERROL
#A. a.# ‘Kate Carnegie,’ Campbell MSS, II, 94. #b.# The Edinburgh Magazine, or Literary Miscellany, June, 1803, p. 458.
#B.# Skene MS., p. 113.
#C.# ‘The Countess of Erroll,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 176.
#D. a.# ‘Lord and Lady Errol,’ Buchan’s Gleanings, p. 158. #b.# ‘Errol’s Place,’ Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 31. #c.# ‘Earl of Errol,’ Kinloch’s Ballad Book, p. 31.
#E.# Letters from and to Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, edited by Alexander Allardyce, I, 180; Sharpe’s Ballad Book, p. 89, No. 31.
#F.# ‘The Earl of Erroll,’ Kinloch MSS, III, 133.
Sir Gilbert Hay, tenth Earl of Errol, was married to Lady Catherine Carnegy, younger daughter of James, second Earl of Southesk, January 7, 1658, and had no children by her. He died in 1674. The ballad, says the person who communicated #A b# to the Edinburgh Miscellany, was “founded, it would seem, on some attempt to withhold from the Earl of Errol his consort’s portion.” It will be observed that the father proposes a beguiling to his daughter, and that she is ready to assent, in #A#, 12, 13.
It appears from a letter cited by Sharpe in his Ballad Book that the matters treated in the ballad were agitating, and had even “come to public hearing,” in February, 1659.
Sir John Hay of Killour, as the nearest male heir, became the eleventh Earl of Errol. His wife was Lady Anne Drummond, only daughter of James, third Earl of Perth, so that the Earl of Perth might seem to have an interest in this affair of Errol’s. She, however, was not born till January, 1656. Perth is actually made the other party in legal proceedings in #A a# 1, but in #A b# seems to espouse Errol’s side.
Carnegy’s other daughter, who in most of the versions censures her sister’s conduct, is called Jean in #A# 5, #D a# 7, #F# 10, Anne in #D b c#. These are stock ballad-names, and we need not suppose that Anne comes from Lady Anne Drummond. The older daughter’s name was Elizabeth.
Errol is in the Carse of Gowrie, a tract noted for its fertility; which accounts for #B# 2, #D a# 1, #D c# 1, #F# 2.
#E#, #F# go the length of imputing to Lady Errol an attempt to poison her husband with wine which she offers him. A page, of Errol’s kin, exposes her in #E#; in #F# Errol gives the drink to a greyhound, and the dog bursts.
The last stanza of #A b#, #C#, #D c# has reference to “the ancient separate maintenance of a lady dissatisfied with or apart from her husband.” (Edinburgh Magazine, as above.)
#E# is introduced in Sharpe’s letter by some pages of mild pleasantry in the form of a preface to “a specimen of the fourth volume of the Border Minstrelsy, speedily to be published.”
* * * * *
A
#a.# Campbell MSS., II, 94. #b.# The Edinburgh Magazine, or Literary Miscellany, June, 1803, p. 458.
1 There was a jury sat at Perth, In the merry month of May, Betwixt the noble Duke of Perth But and Sir Gilbert Hay.
2 My lord Kingside has two daughters, They are proper, straight and tall; But my lord Carnegie he has two That far excells them all.
3 Then Errol he has dressd him, As very well he could; I’m sure there was not one cloth-yard But what was trimmd with gold.
4 ‘Ane asking, ane asking, my lord Carnegie, Ane asking I’ve to thee; I’m come to court your daughter Jean, My wedded wife to be.’
5 ‘My daughter Jean was wed yestreen, To one of high degree, But where Jean got one guinea of gold With Kate I’ll give thee three.
6 ‘Full fifteen hundred pounds Had Jean Carnegie, But three fifteen hundred pounds With Kate I’ll gie to thee.’
7 Then Errol he has wed her, And fairly brought her hame; There was nae peace between them twa Till they sundered oer again.
8 When bells were rung, and mess was sung, And a’ man bound to bed, The Earl of Errol and his countess In one chamber was laid.
9 Early in the morning My lord Carnegie rose, The Earl of Errol and his countess, And they’ve put on their clothes.
10 Up spake my lord Carnegie; ‘Kate, is your toucher won?’ ‘Ye may ask the Earl of Errol, If he be your good-son.
11 ‘What need I wash my petticoat And hing it on a pin? For I am as leal a maid yet As yestreen when I lay down.
12 ‘What need I wash my apron And hing it on the door? It’s baith side and wide enough, Hangs even down before.’
13 Up spake my lord Carnegie; ‘O Kate, what do ye think ? We’ll beguile the Earl of Errol As lang as he’s in drink.’
14 ‘O what will ye beguile him wi? Or what will ye do than? I’ll swear before a justice-court That he’s no a sufficient man.’
15 Then Errol he cam down the stair, As bold as oney rae: ‘Go saddle to me my Irish coach, To Edinbro I’ll go.’
16 When he came to Edinbro, He lighted on the green; There were four-and-twenty maidens A’ dancing in a ring.
17 There were four-and-twenty maidens A’ dancing in a row; The fatest and the fairest To bed wi him must go.
18 He’s taen his Peggy by the hand, And he led her thro the green, And twenty times he kissd her there, Before his ain wife’s een.
19 He’s taen his Peggy by the hand, And he’s led her thro the hall, And twenty times he’s kissd her there, Before his nobles all.
20 ‘Look up, look up, my Peggy lass, Look up, and think nae shame; Ten hundred pounds I’ll gie to you To bear to me a son.’
21 He’s keepit his Peggy in his room Three quarter of a year, And just at the nine months’ end She a son to him did bear.
22 ‘Now if ye be Kate Carnegie, And I Sir Gilbert Hay, I’ll make your father sell his lands Your toucher for to pay.’
23 ‘To make my father sell his lands, It wad be a great sin, To toucher oney John Sheephead That canna toucher win.’
24 ‘Now hold your tongue, ye whorish bitch, Sae loud as I hear ye lie! For yonder sits Lord Errol’s son, Upon his mother’s knee; For yonder sits Lord Errol’s son, Altho he’s no by thee.’
25 ‘You may take hame your daughter Kate, And set her on the glen; For Errol canna please her, Nor nane o Errol’s men; For Errol canna please her, Nor twenty of his men.’
26 The ranting and the roving, The thing we a’ do ken, The lady lost her right that night, The first night she lay down; And the thing we ca the ranting o’t, The lady lies her lane.
* * * * *
B
Skene MS., p. 113; taken down from recitation in the north of Scotland, 1802–3.
1 Earell is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The greatest faut about the place Earell’s no a man. What ye ca the danting o’t, According as ye ken, For the pearting... Lady Earell lyes her lane.
2 Earell is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The roses they graw red an white, An apples they graw green.
3 ‘What need I my apron wash An hing upon yon pin? For lang will I gae out an in Or I hear my bairnie’s din.
4 ‘What need I my apron wash An hing upo yon door? For side and wide is my petticoat, An even down afore.
5 ‘But I will lace my stays again, My middle jimp an sma; I’l gae a’ my days a maiden. [Awa], Earell, awa!’
6 It fell ance upon a day Lord Earell Went to hunt him lane, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
7 He was na a mile fra the town, Nor yet sae far awa, Till his lady is on to Edinburgh, To try hir all the law.
8 Little did Lord Earell think, Whan he sat down to dine, That his lady was on to Edinburgh, Nor what was in her mind.
9 Till his best servant came For to lat him ken . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
10 She was na in at the toun-end, Nor yet sae far awa, Till Earell was at her back, His gaudy locks to sha.
11 She was na in at the loan-head, Nor just at the end, Till Earell he was at her back, Her errand for to ken.
12 ‘As lang as they ca ye Kate Carnegie, An me Sir Gilbert Hay, I’s gar yer father sell Kinaird, Yer tocher for to pay.’
13 ‘For to gar my father sell Kinnaird, It wad be a sin, To gee it to ony naughty knight That a tocher canna win.’
14 Out spak the first lord, The best amang them a’; ‘I never seed a lady come Wi sick matters to the law.’
15 Out spak the neest lord, The best o the town; ‘Ye get fifteen well-fared maids, An put them in a roun, An Earell in the midst o them, An lat him chuse out ane.’
16 They ha gotten fifteen well-fared maids, An pit them in a roun, An Earell in the mids o them, An bad him chuse out ane.
17 He viewed them a’ intill a raw, Even up an down, An he has chosen a well-fared may, An Meggie was her name.
18 He took her by the hand, Afore the nobles a’, An twenty times he kissed her mou, An led her thro the ha.
19 ‘Look up, Megie, look up, Megie, [Look up,] an think na shame; As lang as ye see my gaudy locks, Lady Earell’s be yer name.’
20 There were fifteen noblemen, An as mony ladies gay, To see Earell proven a man . . . . . . .
21 ‘Ye tak this well-fared may, And keep her three roun raiths o a year, An even at the three raiths’ end I sall draw near.’
22 They hae taen that well-fared may, An keepd her three roun raiths o a year, And even at the three raiths’ end Earell’s son she bare.
23 The gentlemen they ga a shout, The ladies ga a caa, Fair mat fa him Earell! But ran to his lady.
24 He was na in at the town-head, Nor just at the end, Till the letters they were waiting him That Earell had a son.
25 ‘Look up, Meggie, look up, Meggie, [Look up,] an think na shame; As lang as ye see my bra black hat, Lady Earell’s be yer name.
26 ‘I will gie my Meggie a mill, But an a piece o land, . . . . . . . To foster my young son.
27 ‘Faur is a’ my merry men a’, That I pay meat an gaire, To convey my Meggy hame, . . . . . . .?’
28 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Even in Lord Earell’s coach They conveyed the lassie hame.
29 ‘Take hame yer daughter, Lord Kinnaird, An take her to the glen, For Earell canna pleas her, Earell nor a’ his men.’
30 ‘Had I ben Lady Earell, Of sic a bonny place, I wad na gaen to Edinburgh My husband to disgrace.’
* * * * *
C
Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 176.
1 Erroll it’s a bonny place, It stands upon a plain; A bad report this ladie’s raisd, That Erroll is nae a man.
2 But it fell ance upon a day Lord Erroll went frae hame, And he is on to the hunting gane, Single man alane.
3 But he hadna been frae the town A mile but barely twa, Till his lady is on to Edinburgh, To gain him at the law.
4 O Erroll he kent little o that Till he sat down to dine, And as he was at dinner set His servant loot him ken.
5 ‘Now saddle to me the black, the black, Go saddle to me the brown, And I will on to Edinburgh, Her errands there to ken.’
6 She wasna well thro Aberdeen, Nor passd the well o Spa, Till Erroll he was after her, The verity to shaw.
7 She wasna well in Edinburgh, Nor even thro the town, Till Erroll he was after her, Her errands there to ken.
8 When he came to the court-house, And lighted on the green, This lord was there in time enough To hear her thus compleen:
9 ‘What needs me wash my apron, Or drie ‘t upon a door? What needs I eek my petticoat, Hings even down afore?
10 ‘What needs me wash my apron, Or hing it upon a pin? For lang will I gang but and ben Or I hear my young son’s din.’
11 ‘They ca you Kate Carnegie,’ he says, ‘And my name’s Gilbert Hay; I’ll gar your father sell his land, Your tocher down to pay.’
12 ‘To gar my father sell his land For that would be a sin, To such a noughtless heir as you, That canno get a son.’
13 Then out it speaks him Lord Brechen, The best an lord ava; ‘I never saw a lady come Wi sic matters to the law.’
14 Then out it speaks another lord, The best in a’ the town; ‘Ye’ll wyle out fifeteen maidens bright Before Lord Erroll come:’ And he has chosen a tapster lass, And Meggie was her name.
15 They kept up this fair maiden Three quarters of a year, And then at that three quarters’ end A young son she did bear.
16 They hae gien to Meggie then Five ploughs but and a mill, And they hae gien her five hundred pounds, For to bring up her chill.
17 There was no lord in Edinburgh But to Meggie gae a ring; And there was na a boy in a’ the town But on Katie had a sang.
18 ‘Kinnaird, take hame your daughter, And set her to the glen, For Erroll canna pleasure her, Nor nane o Erroll’s men.’
19 Seven years on Erroll’s table There stand clean dish and speen, And every day the bell is rung, Cries, Lady, come and dine.
* * * * *
D
#a.# Buchan’s Gleanings, p. 158. #b.# Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 31. #c.# Kinloch’s Ballad Book, p. 31.
1 O Errol’s place is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The flowers on it grow red and white, The apples red and green. The ranting o ‘t and the danting o ‘t, According as ye ken, The thing they ca the danting o ‘t, Lady Errol lies her lane.
2 O Errol’s place is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; But what’s the use of Errol’s place? He’s no like other men.
3 ‘As I cam in by yon canal, And by yon bowling-green, I might hae pleased the best Carnegy That ever bore that name.
4 ‘As sure’s your name is Kate Carnegy, And mine is Gibbie Hay, I’ll gar your father sell his land, Your tocher for to pay.’
5 ‘To gar my father sell his land, Would it not be a sin, To give it to a naughtless lord That couldna get a son?’
6 Now she is on to Edinburgh, For to try the law, And Errol he has followed her, His manhood for to shaw.
7 Then out it spake her sister, Whose name was Lady Jane; ‘Had I been Lady Errol,’ she says, ‘Or come of sic a clan, I would not in this public way Have sham’d my own gudeman.’
8 But Errol got it in his will To choice a maid himsel, And he has taen a country-girl, Came in her milk to sell.
9 He took her by the milk-white hand, And led her up the green, And twenty times he kissd her there, Before his lady’s een.
10 He took her by the milk-white hand, And led her up the stair; Says, Thrice three hundred pounds I’ll gie To you to bear an heir.
11 He kept her there into a room Three quarters of a year, And when the three quarters were out A braw young son she bear.
12 ‘Tak hame your daughter, Carnegy, And put her till a man, For Errol he cannot please her, Nor any of his men.’
* * * * *
E
C. K. Sharpe’s Letters, ed. Allardyce, I, 180 ff; written down from the recitation of Violet Roddick, a woman living near Hoddam Castle, 1803. Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1823, p. 89.
1 O Errol it’s a bonny place, It stands in yonder glen; The lady lost the rights of it The first night she gaed hame. A waly and a waly! According as ye ken, The thing we ca the ranting o ‘t, Our lady lies her lane, O.
2 ‘What need I wash my apron, Or hing it on yon door? What need I truce my petticoat? It hangs even down before.’
3 Errol’s up to Edinburgh gaen, That bonny burrows-town; He has chusit the barber’s daughter, The top of a’ that town.
4 He has taen her by the milk-white hand, He has led her through the room, And twenty times he’s kisst her, Before his lady’s een.
5 ‘Look up, look up now, Peggy, Look up, and think nae shame, For I’ll gie thee five hundred pound, To buy to thee a gown.
6 ‘Look up, look up, now, Peggy, Look up, and think nae shame, For I’ll gie thee five hundred pound To bear to me a son.
7 ‘As thou was Kate Carnegie, And I Sir Gilbert Hay, I’ll gar your father sell his lands, Your tocher-gude to pay.
8 ‘Now he may take her back again, Do wi her what he can, For Errol canna please her, Nor ane o a’ his men.’
9 ‘Go fetch to me a pint of wine, Go fill it to the brim, That I may drink my gude lord’s health, Tho Errol be his name.’
10 She has taen the glass into her hand, She has putten poison in, She has signd it to her dorty lips, But neer a drop went in.
11 Up then spake a little page, He was o Errol’s kin; ‘Now fie upon ye, lady gay, There’s poison there within.
12 ‘It’s hold your hand now, Kate,’ he says, ‘Hold it back again, For Errol winna drink on ‘t, Nor none o a’ his men.’
13 She has taen the sheets into her arms, She has thrown them oer the wa: ‘Since I maun gae maiden hame again, Awa, Errol, awa!’
14 She’s down the back o the garden, And O as she did murne! ‘How can a workman crave his wage, When he never wrought a turn?’
* * * * *
F
Kinloch MSS, III, 133.
1 O Errol is a bonny place, And stands upon yon plane, But the lady lost the rights o it Yestreen or she came hame.
2 O Erroll is a bonny place, And lyes forenent the sun, And the apples they grow red and white, And peers o bonny green.
3 ‘I nedna wash my apron, Nor hing it on the door; But I may tuck my petticoat, Hangs even down before.
4 ‘Oh, Erroll, Erroll, Oh, Erroll if ye ken, Why sh_oul_d I love Erroll, Or any of his men?’
5 She’s turned her right and round about, Poured out a glass o wine; Says, I will drink to my true love, He’ll drink to me again.
6 O Erroll stud into the fleer, He was an angry man: ‘See here it is a good gray-hun, We’ll try what is the run.’
7 Then Erroll stud into the fleer, Steered neither ee nor bree, Till that he saw his good gray-hun Was burst and going free.
8 ‘But ye are Kate Carnegie,’ he said, ‘And I am Sir Gilbert Hay; I’se gar your father sell Kinnaird, Your tocher-good to pay.’
9 Now she is on to Edinburgh, A’ for to use the law, And brave Erroll has followed her, His yellow locks to sheu.
10 Out and spak her sister Jean, And an angry woman was she; ‘If I were lady of Erroll, And hed as fair a face, I w_oul_d no go to Edinburgh, My good lord to disgrace.’
* * * * *
#A. a.#
23^4. toucher one.
26. May have been a burden.
#b.#
Ballad of Gilbert, Earl of Errol, and Lady Catherine Carnegie
. . . . . . .
13 Up spake Lord Carnegie, ’ O Kate, what do you think? We’ll beguile the Earl of Errol, As long as he’s in drink.’
14 ‘O what need you beguile him? Or what would you do than? For I can easy vow and testify Lord Errol’s not a man.
12 ‘You need not wash my petticoat And hang it at the door; For it’s baith side and wide enough, And hangs even down before.
11 ‘You need not wash my apron And hang it on a pin; For I’m as leil a maiden As first when I went in.’
15 Down came the Earl of Errol, As swift as any roe: ‘Come harness me my Irish coach, To Edinburgh I go.’
16 And when he came to Edinburgh, A ganging through the green, Full four-and-twenty maidens A’ dancing there were seen.
17 And there were fifteen maidens All dancing in a row, And the fairest and the fattest To prove that she must go.
18 He’s taen his Peggy by the hand, And led her through the green, And twenty times he’s kissed her, Before his lady’s een.
19 He’s taen his Peggy by the hand, And led her through the hall, And twenty times he’s kissed her, Before the nobles all.
He’s taen his Peggy by the hand, And led her to a room, And gave her a cup of claret wine, And syne a bed of down.
20^{1,2} ‘Stand up, stand up, my Peggy, Stand up, and think na shame, Na hide your face within your hand, On me be all the blame.
‘For you shall have a thousand pounds As soon as it is won, 20^{3,4} And you shall have ten thousand pounds If you bear to me a son.’
21 He kept his Peggy in a room Full nine months and a day, And at the very nine months’ end She bore a son so gay.
As they were all at dinner sat, And merrily went the can, Up spake the noble Earl of Perth, ‘Kate, what ails you at your man?’
‘Oh, all the lands and earldom Are now to ruin gone, For I can easy vow and testify He’ll never get a son.’
24^{1–4} ‘Ye lie, ye lie, you filthy jade, So loud I hear you lie! For there sits Lord Errol’s son, Upon his mither’s knee.’
22 ‘As you are Kate Carnegie And I Sir Gilbert Hay, I’ll gar your father sell his land Your tocher for to pay.’
23 ‘To gar my father sell his land I’m sure would be a sin, For to tocher any John Sheephead Who could neer a tocher win.’
25^{1–4} ‘You may take hame your daughter Kate, And set her in a glen, For Lord Errol cannot please her, Nor none of Errol’s men.
‘You may provide a knife and fork, A trencher and a spoon, A little boy to call her, Come to your dinner, dame; A little boy to call her Till seven years are done.’
#B.#
Written in long lines, without division into stanzas; carelessly and in a bad hand, like other transcripts by Skene. The frequent gaps (of which only one is indicated, 5^4) make the division here adopted doubtful in some cases.
The burden is given at the end only, and is badly corrupted. 1. the Darton all. 3. Pearting?
7^4. hir all. Corrupted? hir, or him, at?
10^1. tour end: see 24^{1–2}.
15^3, 16^3. Earl.
20^2. gay ladies.
23^4. Corrupted? some malediction on the lady?
27^2. gaire is, I suppose, gear.
#D.# #b.#
Burden. 1. The wally o ‘t, the wally o ‘t. 3. the ranting o ‘t. 4. Our lady lies alane.
1^3. at it.
3^1. It’s I.
4^1. As sure as you’re Jean.
4^2. And I am.
4^3. I’ll cause.
5^1. To cause.
5^2. I think would be.
5^3. give to such a rogue as you.
5^4. Who never could it win.
6^1. So he must go.
6^2. Amang the nobles a’.
6^3. And there before good witnesses.
7^2. was called Miss Anne.
9^3. she says wanting.
8–12 A servant girl there was found out, On whom to show his skill; He gave to her a hundred pounds, To purchase her good-will.
And still he cried, Look up, Peggy, Look up, and think no shame, And you shall have your hundred pounds Before I lay you down.
Now he has lain him down wi her, A hundred pounds in pawn, And all the noblemen cried out That Errol is a man.
‘Tak hame your daughter,’ Errol said, ‘And tak her to a glen, For Errol canna pleasure her, Nor can no other man.’
#c.#
Burden. 1. And the. 3. And the thing we. 4. Is, Errol’s na a man.
1^1, 2^1. O Errol is.
1^2. Into the simmer time.
1^3. The apples they grow.
1^4. And the pears they grow green.
3^4. bore the.
4^1. Tho your name be Dame Cathrine Carnegie.
4^2. mine Sir Gilbert.
4^3. sell Kinnaird.
4^4. tocher gude to.
5^1. If ye gar my father sell Kinnaird.
5^2. ‘T will be a crying.
5^{3,4}. To tocher onie weary dwrf, That canna tocher win.
6^1. The lady is.
6^2. A’ for.
6^4. His ainsell.
7^1. O up bespak.
7^2. Lady Ann.
7^3. she says wanting.
After 7, two stanzas which are clearly a spurious interpolation.
8^1. Errol has got (But wanting).
8^3. has chosen a weel-faurd may.
8^4. Come. After 8 (==10):
‘Look up, look up, my weel-faurd may, Look up, and think na shame; I’ll gie to thee five hundred merk To bear to me a son.’
9^1. He’s tane the lassie by the han.
9^3. there wanting.
9^4. Afore.
After 9:
When they war laid in the proof-bed, And a’ the lords looking on, Then a’ the fifteen vowd and swore That Errol was a man.
11^1. But they hae keepit this lassie.
11^3. And at the end o nine lang months.
11^4. A son to him she bare.
After 11:
And there was three thairbut, thairbut, And there was three thairben, And three looking oure the window hie, Crying, Errol’s provd a man!
And whan the word gaed thro the toun, The sentry gied a cry, ‘O fair befa you, Errol, now! For ye hae won the day.’
‘O I’ll tak off my robes o silk, And fling them oure the wa, And I’ll gae maiden hame again, Awa, Errol, awa!’
12^1. Sir Carnegie.
12^2. till the glen.
12^3. he wanting.
12^4. nane o Errol’s.
(12 is found in Kinloch’s MSS, VII, 95, with Sir Carnegie beginning the line.)
After 12:
And ilka day her plate was laid, Bot an a siller spune, And three times cried oure Errol’s yett, ‘Lady Errol, come and dine.’
Kinloch gives the following as a variant. It is found in Kinloch’s MSS, VII, 95:
Seven years the trencher sat, And seven years the spune; Seven years the servant cried, ‘Lady Errol, come and dine.’
Burden, at the end. 3. ye ca. 4. Lady Errol lies her leen.
#E.#
Sharpe made these changes in his Ballad Book:
3^4. the toss.
4^2. He’s led her oer the green.
4^3. he kist.
7^1. Your name is.
7^2. And I’m.
12^3. shall not.
#F.#
1^1, 2^1, 6^1. Oh.
232
RICHIE STORY
#A.# ‘Ritchie Storie,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 426.
#B.# Skene MS., p. 96.
#C. a.# ‘Richie Story,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 65, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813–15, p. 53, Abbotsford. #b.# ‘Ritchie’s Tory Laddie,’ Campbell MSS, II, 116.
#D.# ‘Richy Story,’ the late Mr Robert White’s papers.
E. ‘Richard Storie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 76, Abbotsford.
#F. a.# ‘Richie Storie,’ Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1823, p. 95. #b.# ‘Richie Storrie,’ Nimmo, Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, 1882, p. 211.
#G. a.# ‘Richard Storry,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 203. #b.# ‘Richie Tory,’ Gibb MS., p. 77. #c.# ‘Ritchie’s Lady,’ Murison MS., p. 82. #d.# ‘Richie’s Lady,’ Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 72. #e.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 263, a fragment. #f.# ‘The Earl of Winton’s Daughter,’ Buchan’s MSS, I, 87.
#H.# The Scots Magazine, 1803, LXV, 253, one stanza.
The youngest (eldest, #A#) and fairest of the daughters of the Earl of Wigton, #A#, #F# (bonniest of his sisters, #E#), has fallen in love with her footman, Richie Story (Tory). Richie brings her a letter from a nobleman who desires to be her suitor; the Earl of Hume, #A#, #B#, #F#, #G a#, #d#, #e#; the Earl of Hume’s son, #D#; the Earl of Aboyne, #E#; of Cumbernauld, #G b#; of Mohun, #G c#; of Wemyss, #G f# and a variant of #E#; the Earls of Hume and Skimmerjim, Skimmerham (Kimmerghame), #C#. The lady has made a vow, and will keep it, to marry none but Richie. Richie deprecates; he has nothing to maintain her with; she is ready to descend to the lowest fortune. (In several versions she has enough of her own. Hunten Tour and Tillebarn and the House of Athol are hers, #B#; Musselburgh, #C#; the House of Athol and Taranadie, #G d#; Blair-in-Athol and Dunkeld, #H#.) Asked by her sister, by Richie, or by some one else, whether she is not sorry to have left Cumbernauld (Castle Norry, #G f#) to follow a footman, she answers that there is no reason, she has her heart’s desire and the lot that was ordained her. As she goes up the Parliament close, rides through Edinburgh town, Glasgow city (London city, #C b#, absurdly), she is greeted by many a lord, but few or none of them thought she was a footman’s lady. Arrived at the domicile of the Storys, her good-mother bids her, gars her, kilt up her coats and muck the byres with Richie.
#F#, #G#, are not satisfied with this conclusion. The footman is really a lover in disguise, the Earl of Hume or of Cumbernauld, #F#, #G a b#. (#G b 2# spoils the plot by making the Earl of Hume write to the lady that he will be her footman-laddie.) Four-and-twenty gentlemen welcome the bride at Ritchie’s gates, or elsewhere, and she blesses the day that she was Richie’s lady. This is incontestably a later invention.
#G f#, which is otherwise embellished, goes a good step beyond #G a-e#. Richie is an Englishman and takes the lady to London. ‘Madam’ has left her kindred to gang with a servant; he has ‘left the sceptre and the crown’ her servant for to be; little she knew that her waiting-man was England’s royal king.
“Lillias Fleming, second daughter of John, Earl of Wigton by his wife Jane Drummond (a daughter of the Earl of Perth), did elope with and marry one of her father’s servants, named Richard Storry. In 1673, she, with consent of her husband, resigned her portion, consisting of the five-merk land of Smythson, etc., in the barony of Lenzie, into the hands of her brother, Lieutenant-Colonel Fleming. The Fleming family afterwards procured for Richie a situation in the Custom-House.” So Hunter, Biggar and the House of Fleming, p. 555, and, in part, Douglas’s Peerage, where, however, Lady Lillias is said to have married Richard Storry, “Esq.:” ed. Wood, II, 616.
Douglas notes that “John, third Earl of Wigton, ... had a charter of the lordship of Cumbernauld, 1st February, 1634.” This place (Comarnad, Campernadie, etc., #B#, #D#, #G a#, #c#, #d#) is in Dumbartonshire. In #F 11# it is attributed to the young Earl of Hume, and the disguised lover is the Earl of Cumbernauld in #G b#.
The lady, ready for any extremity, says in #F 6# that she will lie ayont a dyke (on the other side of a wall), in #E 6# sit below the dyke, in #D 5# sit aneath the duke, and that she will be at Richie’s command at all times. This matter was not understood by the reciter of #B#, and in #B 7# the lady is made to say, We will go to sea, I’ll sit upon the deck (and be your servant, as in the other cases). In #A# the difficulty, such as it is, seems to have been evaded, and we read, #6#, I’ll live whereer you please (and be ready at your call late or early).
For the relation of this ballad to ‘Huntingtower’ and ‘The Duke of Athol,’ see an appendix.
* * * * *
A
Motherwell’s MS., p. 426; from the recitation of Mrs ——, of Kilbarchan, January 3, 1826.
1 The Earl of Wigton had three daughters, Oh and a waly, but they were unco bonnie! The eldest of them had the far brawest house, But she’s fallen in love with her footman-laddie.
2 As she was a walking doun by yon river-side, Oh and a wally, but she was unco bonnie! There she espied her own footman, With ribbons hanging over his shoulders sae bonnie.
3 ‘Here’s a letter to you, madame, Here’s a letter to you, madame; The Earl of Hume is waiting on, And he has his service to you, madame.’
4 ‘I’ll have none of his service,’ says she, ‘I’ll have none of his service,’ says she, ‘For I’ve made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, That I’ll marry none but you, Ritchie.’
5 ‘O say not so again, madame, O say not so again, madame; For I have neither lands nor rents For to keep you on, madam.’
6 ‘I’ll live where eer you please, Ritchie, I’ll live where eer you please, [Ritchie,] And I’ll be ready at your ca’, Either late or early, Ritchie.’
7 As they went in by Stirling toun, O and a wally, but she was unco bonnie! A’ her silks were sailing on the ground, But few of them knew of Ritchie Story.
8 As they went in by the Parliament Close, O and a wally, but she was unco bonnie! All the nobles took her by the hand, But few of them knew she was Ritchie’s lady.
9 As they came in by her goodmother’s yetts, O and a wally, but she was unco bonnie! Her goodmother bade her kilt her coats, And muck the byre with Ritchie Storie.
10 ‘Oh, may not ye be sorry, madame, Oh, may not ye be sorry, madame, To leave a’ your lands at bonnie Cumbernaud, And follow home your footman-laddie?’
11 ‘What need I be sorry?’ says she, ‘What need I be sorry?’ says she, ‘For I’ve gotten my lot and my heart’s desire, And what Providence has ordered for me.’
* * * * *
B
Skene MS., p. 96; taken down in the north of Scotland, 1802–3.
1 Comarnad is a very bonny place, And there is ladies three, madam, But the fairest and rairest o them a’ Has married Richard Storry.
2 ‘O here is a letter to ye, madam, Here is a letter to ye, madam; The Earle of Hume, that gallant knight, Has fallen in love wi ye, madam.’
3 ‘There is a letter to ye, madam, [There is a letter to ye, madam;] That gallant knight, the Earl of Hume, Desires to be yer servan true, madam.
4 ‘I’ll hae nane o his letters, Richard, I’ll hae nane o his letters, [Richard;] I hae voued, and will keep it true, I’ll marry nane but ye, Richie.’
5 ‘Say ne sae to me, lady, Say ne sae to me, [lady,] For I hae neither lands nor rents To mentain ye, lady.’
6 ‘Hunten Tour and Tillebarn, The House o Athol is mine, Richie, An ye sal hae them a’ Whan ere ye incline, Richie.
7 ‘For we will gae to sea, Richie, I’ll sit upon the deck, Richie, And be your servant ere and late, At any hour ye like, [Richie.’]
8 ‘O manna ye be sad, sister, An mann ye be sae sorry, To leave the house o bonny Comarnad, An follow Richard Storry?’
9 ‘O what neads I be sad, sister, An how can I be sorry? A bonny lad is my delit, And my lot has been laid afore me.’
10 As she went up the Parliament Close, Wi her laced shoon so fine, Many ane bad the lady good day, But few thought o Richard’s lady.
11 As she gaed up the Parliament Close, Wi her laced shoon so fine, Mony ane hailed that gay lady, But few hailed Richard Storry.
* * * * *
C
#a.# “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 65, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813–15, p. 53, from the singing or recitation of Miss Euphemia Hislope. #b.# Campbell MSS, II, 116.
1 There are three white hens i the green, madam, There are three white hens i the green, madam, But Richie Story he’s comd by, And he’s stollen away the fairest of them.
2 ‘O are’int ye now sad, sister, O are’in[t] ye now sad, sister, To leave your bowers and your bony Skimmerknow, And follow the lad they call Richie Story?’
3 ‘O say not that again, sister, O say not that again, sister, For he is the lad that I love best, And he is the lot that has fallen to me.’
4 ‘O there’s a letter to thee, madam, O there’s a letter to thee, madam; The Earl of Hume and Skimmerjim, For to be sweethearts to thee, madam.’
5 ‘But I’ll hae none of them, Richie, But I’ll hae none of them, Richie, For I have made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, I’ll have none but Ric[h]ie Story.’
6 ‘O say not that again, madam, O say not that again, madam, For the Earl of Hume and Skimmerjim, They are men of high renown.’
7 ‘Musslebury’s mine, Richie, Musslebury’s mine, Richie, And a’ that’s mine it shall be thine, If you will marry me, Richie.’
8 As she went up through Glasgow city, Her gold watch was shining pretty; Many [a] lord bade her good day, But none thought she was a footman’s lady.
9 As she went up through London city, There she met her scolding minny: ‘Cast off your silks and kilt your coats, And muck the byre wi Richie Story.’
10 ‘Hold your tongue, my scolding minnie, Hold your tongue, my scolding minnie; For I’ll cast of my silks and kilt my coats, And muck the byres wi Richie Story.’
* * * * *
D
The late Mr Robert White’s papers.
1 As I came in by Thirlwirl Bridge, A coming frae the land of fair Camernadie, There I met my ain true love, Wi ribbons at her shoulders many.
2 ‘Here is a letter to you, madam; [Here is a letter to you, madam;] The Earl of Hume’s eldest son Sent this letter to you, madam.
3 ‘I’ll have none of his [letters], Richy, I’ll have none of his letters, Richy; I made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, I’ll wed wi nane but you, Richy.’
4 ‘Say not so again, madam, Say not so again, madam; I have neither lands nor rents To maintain you on, madam.’
5 ‘I’ll sit aneath the duke, Richy, I’ll sit aneath the duke, Richy; I’ll sit on hand, at your command At ony time ye like, Richy.’
6 As they came in by Thirlewirle bridge, A coming frae fair Cummernadie, She brak the ribbons that tied her shoon Wi following after the footman-laddie.
7 ‘O but ye be sad, sister, O but ye be sad and sorry, To leave the lands o bonnie Cummernad, To gang alang wi a footman-laddie!’
8 ‘How can I be sad, sister? How can I be sad or sorry? I have gotten my heart’s delight; And what can ye get mair?’ says she.
9 To the house-end Richy brought his lady, To the house-end Richy brought his lady; Her mother-in-law gart her kilt her coats, And muck the byre wi Richy Story.
* * * * *
E
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 76, Abbotsford.
1 The Earl of Wigton has seven sisters, And O but they be wondrous bonnie! And the bonniest lass amang them a’ Has fallen in love wi Richie Storie.
2 As I came down by yon river-side, And down by the banks of Eache bonnie, There I met my own true-love, Wi ribbons on her shoulders bonnie.
3 ‘Here is a letter for you, madam, Here is a letter for you, madam; The Earl of Aboyne has a noble design To be a suitor to you, madam.’
4 ‘I’ll hae nane of his letters, Richie, I’ll hae nane of his letters, Richie, For I’ve made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, That I’ll hae nane but you, Richie.’
5 ‘Take your word again, madam, Take your word again, madam, For I have neither land nor rents For to mentain you on, madam.’
6 ‘I’ll sit below the dyke, Richie, I’ll sit below the dyke, Richie, And I will be at your command At ony time you like, Richie.
7 ‘Ribbons you shall wear, Richie, Ribbons you shall wear, Richie, A cambric band about your neck, And vow but ye’ll be braw, Richie!’
8 As they came in by the West Port, The naps of gold were bobbing bonnie; Many a one bade this lady gude-day, But neer a one to Richie Storie.
9 As they came up the Parliament Close, Naps of gold were bobbing bonnie; Many a gentleman lifted his cap, But few kennd she was Richie’s lady.
10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And ay methinks we’ll drink the night In Cambernauld sae bonnie.
11 ‘It’s are not you sick, sister, Are not you very sorrie, To leave the lands of bonnie Cambernauld, And run awae wi Richie Storie?’
12 ‘Why should I be sick, sister, O why should I be any sorrie, When I hae gotten my heart’s delight? I hae gotten the lot was laid afore me.’
* * * * *
F
#a.# Sharpe’s Ballad Book, p. 95, 1823. #b#. Nimmo, Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, p. 211, 1882.
1 The Erle o Wigton had three daughters, O braw wallie, but they were bonnie! The youngest o them, and the bonniest too, Has fallen in love wi Richie Storie.
2 ‘Here’s a letter for ye, madame, Here’s a letter for ye, madame; The Erle o Home wad fain presume To be a suitor to ye, madame.’
3 ‘I’l hae nane o your letters, Richie; I’l hae nane o your letters, Richie; For I’ve made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, That I’l have none but you, Richie.’
4 ‘O do not say so, madame; O do not say so, madame; For I have neither land nor rent, For to maintain you o, madame.
5 ‘Ribands ye maun wear, madame, Ribands ye maun wear, madame; With the bands about your neck O the goud that shines sae clear, madame.’
6 ‘I’l lie ayont a dyke, Richie, I’l lie ayont a dyke, Richie; And I’l be aye at your command And bidding, whan ye like, Richie.’
7 O he’s gane on the braid, braid road, And she’s gane through the broom sae bonnie, Her silken robes down to her heels, And she’s awa wi Richie Storie.
8 This lady gade up the Parliament stair, Wi pendles in her lugs sae bonnie; Mony a lord lifted his hat, But little did they ken she was Richie’s lady.
9 Up then spak the Erle o Home’s lady; ‘Was na ye richt sorrie, Annie, To leave the lands o bonnie Cumbernauld And follow Richie Storie, Annie?’
10 ‘O what need I be sorrie, madame? O what need I be sorrie, madame? For I’ve got them that I like best, And war ordained for me, madame.’
11 ‘Cumbernauld is mine, Annie, Cumbernauld is mine, Annie; And a’ that’s mine, it shall be thine, As we sit at the wine, Annie.’
* * * * *
G
#a.# Kinloch MSS, I, 203, from Alexander Kinnear, of Stonehaven. #b.# Gibb MS., p. 77, from Mrs Gibb, senior. #c.# Murison MS., p. 82. #d#. Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 72, from the recitation of a native of Buchan. #e.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 263 (a fragment). #f.# Buchan’s MSS, I, 87.
1 There were five ladies lived in a bouer, Lived in a bouer at Cumbernaldie; The fairest and youngest o them a’ Has fa’n in love wi her footman-laddie.
2 ‘Here is a letter to you, ladye, Here is a letter to you, ladye; The Earl o Hume has written doun That he will be your footman-laddie.’
3 ‘I want nane o his service, Ritchie, I want nane o his service, Ritchie; For I’ve made a vow, and I’ll keep it true, That I’ll wed nane but thee, Ritchie.’
4 ‘O that canna be, ladye, O that canna be, ladye; For I’ve neither house nor land, Nor ought suiting ye, ladye.’
5 ‘Livd ye on yonder hill, Ritchie, Livd ye on yonder hill, Ritchie, There’s my hand, I’m at your command, Marry me whan ye will, Ritchie!’
6 This boy he went to his bed, It was a’ to try this fair ladye; But she went up the stair to him: ‘Ye maun leave your comrades, Ritchie.
7 ‘To the Borders we maun gang, Ritchie, To the Borders we maun gang, Ritchie, For an my auld father he get word, It’s you he will cause hang, Ritchie.’
8 ‘To the Borders we’ll na gang, ladye, To the Borders we’ll na gang, ladye; For altho your auld father got word, It’s me he dare na hang, ladye.’
9 As they passed by her mither’s bouer, O but her sisters they were sorry! They bade her tak aff the robes o silk, And muck the byres wi Ritchie Storry.
10 Whan they cam to yon hie hill, Dear vow, but the lady she was sorry! She looked oure her left showther— ‘O an I war in bonny Cumbernaldie!’
11 ‘O are na ye sorry now, ladye, O are na ye sorry now, ladye, For to forsake the Earl o Hume, And follow me, your footman-laddie?’
12 ‘How could I be sorry, Ritchie, How could I be sorry, Ritchie? Such a gudely man as you, And the lot that lies afore me, Ritchie.’
13 As they rode up through Edinburgh toun, Her gowd watch hang doun sae gaudie; Monie a lord made her a bow, But nane o them thoucht she was Ritchie’s ladye.
14 Whan they cam to Ritchie’s yetts, Dear vow, but the music playd bonnie! There were four-and-twenty gay ladies To welcome hame Richard Storry’s ladye.
15 He called for a priest wi speed, A priest wi speed was soon ready, And she was na married to the Earl of Hume, But she blesses the day she got Richard Storry.
16 A coach and six they did prepare, A coach and six they did mak ready, A coach and six they did prepare, And she blesses the day made her Ritchie’s lady.
* * * * *
H
The Scots Magazine, LXV, 253, 1803, James Hogg.
Blair-in-Athol’s mine, Ritchie, Blair-in-Athol’s mine, Ritchie, And bonny Dunkeld, where I do dwell, And these shall a’ be thine, Ritchie.
* * * * *
#A.#
5^1. Oh.
7^4. Ritchie’s story.
#B.#
7^4. ye lake, or take.
8^2. manna ye be sorry?
9^2. An who.
#C. a.#
The air is said in the MS. to be beautiful and very plaintive.
5^{1,2}. madam instead of Richie. Richie in #b#.
6^3. Skimmerjim is glossed in the margin Kimmerghame.
8^1. Written twice.
8^2. hining. shining in #b#.
#b.#
2^{1,2}, 3^{1,2}, 4^{1,2}, 5^{1,2}, 6^{1,2}, are written in one line.
10^2. is indicated by &c.
1^{1,2}. There’s.
1^3. And Richies tory he’s come by.
2^{1,2}. O care ye not sad.
2^3. Skimmer knowes.
2^4. And go wi the lad they ca Richies tory.
3^{1,2}. not so again.
4^{1,2}. O wanting.
4^2. madam wanting.
4^3. For the: Skimmerham.
4^4. They will be: to you.
5^{1,2}. Richie, for madam of #a#.
5^4. none but thee, Richie.
6. Wanting.
7^2. Richie wanting.
8^1. London city.
8^2. shining.
8^3. Many a.
8^4. But few thought her a.
9^2. mammy.
9^4. Richies Torry.
10^{1,2}. Now hold: mammy.
10^3. and cast (wrongly).
10^4. And I’ll muck the byre wi Richies Torry.
#D.#
1^4. At his? The ribbons seem more likely to belong to the footman: see #A# 2, #G f# 1. But compare #E 2#, #G d#, after 1.
#E.#
1^4. Var.: wi her brother’s foot-boy.
2^3. On his?
3^3. Var.: Earl Wemyss.
11^3. Marginal note: Lady Hume, whose son was suitor to the runnaway lady.
#F. b.#
Evidently furbished, and therefore not collated. After 6 is inserted this stanza, corresponding to 11:
Fair Powmoodie is mine, dear Richie, And goud and pearlins too; Gin ye’ll consent to be mine, dear Richie, I will gie them a’ to you.
#G.#
Trivial variations are not noticed.
#a#,
15^{3,4}. It is certain from 16 and from other copies of G that she was married to the Earl of Hume, but I have let the text stand as delivered.
#b.#
Stanzas 1, 9^{3,4}, 2, 7, 8, 10–14, 15^{3,4} (?), 16: four marked as wanting.
1^{1,2}. Theres seven bonny ladies in yonder ha (twice).
1^3. The youngest an bonniest amon.
2^{3,4}. It’s from the Earl o Cumbernauld, An he is seekin you, lady.
7^1. we will go, Richie.
7^2. go, laddie.
9^3. Ye’ll cast aff your gowns o silk.
9^4. wi your Richie Tory.
10^{1,2}. As they gaed down by yon bonny waterside, O but the sma birds they sang bonnie!
11^2. sorry, lassie.
11^3. To leave the Earl o Cumbernauld.
12^2. sorry, laddie.
12^{3,4}. The thing that’s afore us we maun endure, So what need I be sorry, laddie?
13^{1,2}. As they gaed down by yon bonny waterside, O but her gold watch it hung bonny!
13^3. #a# ane gaed her a low bow.
13^4. But few kent she.
14^{1,2}. As she gaed doun by yon bonny ha-house, Oh but the pibrochs they sang bonny!
14^3. f. an t. belted knichts.
15^{3,4}. Says, I’m the Earl o Cumbernauld, That for your sake was a footman-laddie.
16^{3,4}. Now she rides in her coach-an-six, An blesses the day she saw Richie Tory.
#c.#
11 stanzas: 1, 6–9, 13, 10, 14, 16, and 11, 12 as a “chorus” to each of the others.
1^{1,2}. Seven sisters in yonder ha, Seven sisters in Campernadie.
6^{1–3}. Ritchie he went up the stair, Thinking for to meet his lady; But sae quick as she turnëd round.
7^{1,2}. we will go.
8^{1,2}. I’ll nae go.
9^1. they rode up by her sisters’ bowers.
9^3. Says, Ye mann tak aff the goons.
9^4. byres, nor wi Ritchie tarry.
10^2. lady grew unco weary.
10^4. were back at Campernadie.
11^3. the yerl o Mohun.
11^4. And wed wi me but.
12^{3,4}. What is before me must nae I endure? An why should I be sorry, Ritchie?
13^2. O but her gowd it was shinin bonnie!
13^3. Monie ane gae her a low bow.
13^4. But few o.
14^1. As they rode doon by yonder glen.
14^2. the organs they.
14^{3,4}. Four-an-twenty gentlemen Cam a’.
16^3. An now she rides in her coach-an-six.
#d.#
16 stanzas: 1; a stanza corresponding to #A# 2, #D# 1, 2–9, 13, 10–12, 14, 16.
1^{1,2}. There were ladies in yon ha, Seven ladies in Cumbernaudie. After 1: He gaed down the garden green, In amang the birks sae bonnie, And there he saw his lady gay, Wi ribbons on her shoulders mony.
2^{3,4}. With Earl Hume’s humble desire Your servant for to be.
3^1. I’ll hae nane o his letters.
3^2. Nane from Earl Hume.
3^{3,4}. But I’ll hae him that I like best, And I’ll hae nane but you, Richie.
4^{1,2}. Say na that to me.
4^3. lands nor rents.
4^4. For to maintain you wi.
5^{1,2}. Say na that again, Richie.
5^{3,4}. The House o Athole it is mine, Taranadie shall be thine, Richie.
6^{1,2}. He gaed from the garden green, Thinking he would shun his lady.
6^3. But quickly she followed after him.
7^2. I’ll gae to them wi thee, Richie.
8^{1,2}. To the Borders we will gae, We will to them gang, lady.
9^1. rode by her sister’s bowers.
9^4. And gang and beg wi her Richard Storie: editorial nicety.
10^2. she grew wondrous weary.
12^{3,4}. When I get him that I like best, And what is laid before me, Richie.
13^1. rode thro yon burrow-town.
14^1. As they rode by yon bonny House.
14^{3,4}. And four-and-twenty gallant knichts Came.
16^3. And now she rides in her coach-and-four. Christie touched up his text here and there.
#e.#
11^{3,4}, 12, 14, 16^{3,4}. Wanting.
12^4. What wad make me sorry?
14^1. yonder gates.
14^2. playd pretty.
14^3. four-and-twenty noble knichts.
14^4. welcome in Ritchie Torry’s lady.
16^{3,4}. Now she rides in her coach-and-six, She blesses the day she got Ritchie Torry.
#f.#
18 stanzas. Much manipulated, and not entitled to confidence.
1. As I came in yon bonny burn-side, And down below the bloom sae bonny, There I espied a handsome lad, Wi ribbons on his shoulders mony.
(Cf. A 2.)
2^{3,4}. Here’s a letter frae the Earl o Wemyss, That he’s in suit o thee, madam.
11. Out it speaks her mother then; O daughter, may not you be sorry To gang alang wi a servant-man, And lose the rights o Castle Norry?
12^{3,4}. I’m sure I’ve chosen a bonny lad, The lot has just been laid afore me.
14. When they gaed through the Parliament Closs, The silver loops hang down sae bonny; Then four-and-twenty noble lords Came hat in hand to Richard Storry.