Chapter 11

19. O he cam cripple, and he cam blind, Cam twa-fald o’er a tree: ‘O be he cripple, or be he blind, This very same man is he.’

20. ‘O whether will ye marry the bonny may, Or hang on the gallows-tree?’ ‘O I will rather marry the bonny may, Afore that I do die.’

21. But he took out a purse of gold, Weel locked in a glove: ‘O tak ye that, my bonny may, And seek anither love.’

22. ‘O I will hae none o’ your gold,’ she says, ‘Nor as little ony of your fee, But I will hae your ain body, The king has granted me.’

23. O he took out a purse of gold; A purse of gold and store; ‘O tak ye that, fair may,’ he said, ‘Frae me ye’ll ne’er get mair.’

24. ‘O haud your tongue, young man,’ she says, ‘And I pray you let me be; For I will hae your ain body, The king has granted me.’

25. He mounted her on a bonny bay horse, Himsel’ on the silver grey; He drew his bonnet out o’er his een, He whipt and rade away.

26. O whan they cam to yon nettle bush, The nettles they war spread: ‘O an my mither war but here,’ she says, ‘These nettles she wad sned.’

27. ‘O an I had drank the wan water Whan I did drink the wine, That e’er a shepherd’s dochter Should hae been a love o’ mine!’

28. ‘O may be I’m a shepherd’s dochter, And may be I am nane! But you might hae ridden on your ways, And hae let me alane.’

29. O whan they cam unto yon mill She heard the mill clap: ... ... ... ... ... ...

30. ‘Clap on, clap on, thou bonny mill, Weel may thou, I say, For mony a time thou’s filled my pock Wi’ baith oat-meal and grey.’

31. ‘O an I had drank the wan water Whan I did drink the wine, That e’er a shepherd’s dochter Should hae been a love o’ mine!’

32. ‘O may be I’m a shepherd’s dochter, And may be I am nane; But you might hae ridden on your ways, And hae let me alane.

33. ‘But yet I think a fitter match Could scarcely gang thegither Than the King of France’s auld dochter And the Queen of Scotland’s brither.’

[Annotations: 8.2: ‘weel,’ advantage. So, in the comparative, ‘better,’ 9.2. 19.2: ‘twa-fald o’er a tree,’ bent double on a stick. 26.4: ‘Sned,’ cut, lop. 29.2: Two lines wanting in the MS. 30.3: ‘pock,’ bag. 30.4: ‘grey,’ _i.e._ grey meal, barley.]

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR

+The Text+ is from Herd’s _Ancient and Modern Scots Songs_ (1769), which is almost identical with a copy in Johnson’s _Museum_. Another variant, also given in the _Museum_, was contributed by Burns, who made it shorter and more dramatic.

+The Story+ of this farcical ballad has long been popular in many lands, European and Oriental, and has been introduced as an episode in English, French, and German plays. A close parallel to the ballad may be found in Straparola, Day VIII., first story.

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR

1. It fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was then, When our goodwife got puddings to make, And she’s boil’d them in the pan.

2. The wind sae cauld blew south and north, And blew into the floor; Quoth our goodman to our goodwife, ‘Gae out and bar the door.’

3. ‘My hand is in my hussyfskep, Goodman, as ye may see; An it shoud nae be barr’d this hundred year, It’s no be barr’d for me.’

4. They made a paction ’tween them twa, They made it firm and sure, That the first word whae’er shoud speak, Shoud rise and bar the door.

5. Then by there came two gentlemen, At twelve o’clock at night, And they could neither see house nor hall, Nor coal nor candle-light.

6. ‘Now whether is this a rich man’s house, Or whether is it a poor?’ But ne’er a word wad ane o’ them speak, For barring of the door.

7. And first they ate the white puddings, And then they ate the black; Tho’ muckle thought the goodwife to hersel’, Yet ne’er a word she spake.

8. Then said the one unto the other, ‘Here, man, tak ye my knife; Do ye tak aff the auld man’s beard, And I’ll kiss the goodwife.’

9. ‘But there’s nae water in the house, And what shall we do than?’ ‘What ails ye at the pudding-broo, That boils into the pan?’

10. O up then started our goodman, An angry man was he: ‘Will ye kiss my wife before my een, And sca’d me wi’ pudding-bree?’

11. Then up and started our goodwife, Gi’ed three skips on the floor: ‘Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word, Get up and bar the door.’

[Annotations: 3.1: ‘hussyfskep’ = housewife’s skep, a straw basket for meal. 6.4: ‘For,’ _i.e._ to prevent: cp. _Child Waters_, 28.6 (First Series, p. 41). 9.3: ‘what ails ye,’ etc. = why not use the pudding-broth. 10.4: ‘sca’d,’ scald.]

END OF THE SECOND SERIES

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APPENDIX

THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE SKERRIE (p. 63)

Since the version given in the text was in type, my friend Mr. A. Francis Steuart of Edinburgh has kindly pointed out to me the following fuller and better variant of the ballad, which was unknown to Professor Child. It may be found in R. Menzies Fergusson’s _Rambling Sketches in the Far North and Orcadian Musings_ (1883), pp. 140-141, whence I have copied it, only adding the numbers to the stanzas.

THE GREY SELCHIE OF SHOOL SKERRY

1. In Norway lands there lived a maid, ‘Hush, ba, loo lillie,’ this maid began; ‘I know not where my baby’s father is, Whether by land or sea does he travel in.’

2. It happened on a certain day, When this fair lady fell fast asleep, That in cam’ a good grey selchie, And set him doon at her bed feet,

3. Saying, ‘Awak’, awak’, my pretty fair maid. For oh! how sound as thou dost sleep! An’ I’ll tell thee where thy baby’s father is; He’s sittin’ close at thy bed feet.’

4. ‘I pray, come tell to me thy name, Oh! tell me where does thy dwelling be?’ ‘My name it is good Hein Mailer, An’ I earn my livin’ oot o’ the sea.

5. ‘I am a man upon the land; I am a selchie in the sea; An’ whin I’m far frae every strand, My dwellin’ is in Shool Skerrie.’

6. ‘Alas! alas! this woeful fate! This weary fate that’s been laid for me! That a man should come frae the Wast o’ Hoy, To the Norway lands to have a bairn wi’ me.’

7. ‘My dear, I’ll wed thee with a ring, With a ring, my dear, I’ll wed wi’ thee.’ ‘Thoo may go wed thee weddens wi’ whom thoo wilt; For I’m sure thoo’ll never wed none wi’ me.’

8. ‘Thoo will nurse my little wee son For seven long years upo’ thy knee, An’ at the end o’ seven long years I’ll come back an’ pay the norish fee.’

9. She’s nursed her little wee son For seven long years upo’ her knee, An’ at the end o’ seven long years He cam’ back wi’ gold an’ white monie.

10. She says, ‘My dear, I’ll wed thee wi’ a ring, With a ring, my dear, I’ll wed wi’ thee.’ ‘Thoo may go wed thee weddens wi’ whom thoo will; For I’m sure thoo’ll never wed none wi’ me.

11. ‘But I’ll put a gold chain around his neck, An’ a gey good gold chain it’ll be, That if ever he comes to the Norway lands, Thoo may hae a gey good guess on hi’.

12. ‘An’ thoo will get a gunner good, An’ a gey good gunner it will be, An’ he’ll gae oot on a May mornin’ An’ shoot the son an’ the grey selchie.’

13. Oh! she has got a gunner good, An’ a gey good gunner it was he, An’ he gaed oot on a May mornin’, An’ he shot the son and the grey selchie.

When the gunner returned from his expedition and showed the Norway woman the gold chain, which he had found round the neck of the young seal, the poor woman, realising that her son had perished, gives expression to her sorrow in the last stanza:--

14. ‘Alas! alas! this woeful fate! This weary fate that’s been laid for me!’ An’ ance or twice she sobbed and sighed, An’ her tender heart did brak in three.

+Note.+ --Doubtless _grey_ selchie is more correct than _great_, as in the other version. Some verses were forgotten after stanza 13.

THE LYKE-WAKE DIRGE (p. 88)

‘Art thow i-wont at lychwake Any playes for to make?’

John Myrc’s _Instructions for Parish Priests_ (circa 1450).

Aubrey’s version of _The Lyke-Wake Dirge_ is printed, more or less correctly, in the following places:--

i. Brand. _Observations on Popular Antiquities_, ed. Ellis (1813), ii. 180-81. (Not in first edition of Brand.)

ii. W. J. Thoms. _Anecdotes and Traditions_, Camden Society, 1839, pp. 88-90, and notes pp. 90-91, which are reprinted by Britten (see below).

iii. W. K. Kelly. _Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folklore_, 1863, pp. 116-17.

iv. Edward Peacock. In notes, pp. 90-92, to John Myrc’s _Instructions for Parish Priests_, E.E.T.S., 1868. (Re-edited by F. J. Furnivall for the E.E.T.S., 1902, where the notes are on pp. 92-94.)

v. James Britten. _Aubrey’s Remains of Gentilisme and Judaisme:_ the whole MS. edited for the Folklore Society, 1881, pp. 30-32.

Aubrey’s remarks and sidenotes are as follow (Lansdowne MS. 231, fol. 114 _recto_):--

‘From Mr. Mawtese, in whose father’s youth, sc. about 60 yeares since now (1686), at country vulgar Funerals, was sung this song.

‘At the Funeralls in Yorkeshire, to this day, they continue the custome of watching & sitting up all night till the body is inhersed. In the interim some kneel down and pray (by the corps) some play at cards some drink & take Tobacco: they have also Mimicall playes & sports, e.g. they choose a simple young fellow to be a Judge, then the suppliants (having first blacked their hands by rubbing it under the bottom of the Pott) beseech his Lo:p [_i.e._ Lordship] and smutt all his face. [‘They play likewise at Hott-cockles.’ --_Sidenote._] Juvenal, Satyr II.

“Esse aliquos manes, et subterranea regna, “Et contum, & Stygio ranas in gurgite nigras, “Atq. unâ transire vadum tot millia cymbâ.

‘This beliefe in Yorkshire was amongst the vulgar (& phaps is in part still) that after the persons death, the Soule went over Whinny moore [‘Whin is a furze.’ --_Sidenote_.] and till about 1616 (1624) at the Funerall a woman came [like a Præfica] and sung this following Song.’

Then follow several verses scratched out, and then the Dirge, to which, however, is prefixed the remark,

‘This not ye first verse.’

As regards the doubtful reading ‘sleete’ for ‘fleet,’ there is curiously contradictory evidence. Pennant, in his _Tour in Scotland_, MDCCLXIX. (Chester, 1771, pp. 91-92), remarks:--

‘On the death of a Highlander, the corps being stretched on a board, and covered with a coarse linen wrapper, the friends lay on the breast of the deceased a wooden platter, containing a small quantity of salt and earth, separate and unmixed; the earth, an emblem of the corruptible body; the salt, an emblem of the immortal spirit. All fire is extinguished where a corps is kept; and it is reckoned so ominous, for a dog or cat to pass over it, that the poor animal is killed without mercy.

‘The _Late-wake_ is a ceremony used at funerals: the evening after the death of any person, the relations and friends of the deceased meet at the house, attended by bagpipe or fiddle; the nearest of kin, be it wife, son, or daughter, opens a melancholy ball, dancing and greeting; _i.e._ crying violently at the same time; and this continues till daylight; but with such gambols and frolicks, among the younger part of the company, that the loss which occasioned them is often more than supplied by the consequences of that night. If the corps remains unburied for two nights the same rites are renewed.’

The Rev. J. C. Atkinson, on the other hand, states the contrary regarding the fire,--see his _Glossary of the Cleveland Dialect_ (1868), p. 595. He supposes ‘fleet’ to be equivalent to the Cleveland ‘flet,’ live embers. ‘The usage, hardly extinct even yet in the district, was on no account to suffer the fire in the house to go out during the entire time the corpse lay in it, and throughout the same time a candle was (or is yet) invariably kept burning in the same room with the corpse.’

Bishop Kennett, in Lansdowne MS. 1033, fol. 132, confirms Aubrey’s gloss of ‘fleet’ = water, in quoting the first verse of the dirge. He adds, ‘hence the _Fleet_, _Fleet-ditch_, in _Lond._ Sax. fleod, amnis, fluvius.’

The ‘Brig o’ Dread’ (which is perhaps a corruption of ‘the Bridge of the Dead’), ‘Whinny-moor,’ and the Hell-shoon, have parallels in many folklores. Thus, for the Brig, the Mohammedans have their _Al-Sirat_, finer than a hair, sharper than a razor, stretched over the midst of hell. The early Scandinavian mythology told of a bridge over the river Giöll on the road to hell.

In Snorri’s _Edda_, when Hermôdhr went to seek the soul of Baldr, he was told by the keeper of the bridge, a maiden named Môdhgudhr, that the bridge rang beneath no feet save his. Similarly Vergil tells us that Charon’s boat (which is also a parallel to the Brig) was almost sunk by the weight of Æneas.

Whinny-moor is also found in Norse and German mythology. It has to be traversed by all departed souls on their way to the realms of Hel or Hela, the Goddess of Death. These realms were not only a place of punishment: all who died went there, even the gods themselves taking nine days and nights on the journey. The souls of Eskimo travel to Torngarsuk, where perpetual summer reigns; but the way thither is five days’ slide down a precipice covered with the blood of those who have gone before.

The passage of Whinny-moor or its equivalent is facilitated by Hell-shoon. These are obtained by the soul in various ways: the charitable gift of a pair of shoes during life assures the right to use them in crossing Whinny-moor; or a pair must be burned with the corpse, or during the wake. In one of his Dialogues, Lucian makes the wife of Eukrates return for the slipper which they had forgotten to burn.

Another parallel, though more remote, to the Hell-shoon, is afforded by the account of one William Staunton, who, like so many others, was privileged to see a vision of Purgatory and of the Earthly Paradise, on the first Friday after the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross in the year 1409. Accounts of such experiences, it may be remarked here, were popular from the tenth century onwards amongst the Anglo-Saxons and English, especially after the middle of the twelfth century, when the story of the famous ‘St. Patrick’s Purgatory’ was first published. William Staunton relates (Royal MS. 17 B. xliii. in the British Museum) that in one part of Purgatory, as he went along the side of a ‘water, the which was blak and fowle to sight,’ he saw on the further side a tower, with a fair woman standing thereon, and a ladder against the tower: but ‘hit was so litille, as me thowght that it wold onnethe [scarcely] bere ony thing; and the first rong of the ladder was so that onnethe might my fynger reche therto, and that rong was sharper than ony rasor.’ Hearing a ‘grisly noyse’ coming towards him, William ‘markid’ himself with a prayer, and the noise vanished, and he saw a rope let down over the ladder from the top of the tower. And when the woman had drawn him safely to the top, she told him that the cord was one that he had once given to a chapman who had been robbed.

The whole subject of St. Patrick’s Purgatory is extremely interesting; but it is outside our present scope, and can best be studied in connection with the mythology of the _Lyke-wake Dirge_ in Thomas Wright’s _St. Patrick’s Purgatory_ (1844). The popularity of the story is attested by accounts extant in some thirty-five Latin and English MSS. in the British Museum, in the Bodleian, at Cambridge, and at Edinburgh. Calderon wrote a drama round the myth, _El Purgatorio de San Patricio_; Robert Southey a ballad; and an early poem of George Wither’s, lost in MS., treated of the same subject. Recently the tale has received attention in G. P. Krapp’s _Legend of St. Patrick’s Purgatory_, Baltimore, 1900.

A correspondent in _Notes and Queries_, 9th Ser., xii. 475 (December 12, 1903), remarks that the ‘liche-wake’ is still spoken of in the Peak district of Derbyshire.

INDEX OF TITLES Page

Adam 123 Allison Gross 9 A Noble Riddle Wisely Expounded 159

Baffled Knight, The 212 Bailiff’s Daughter of Islington, The 202 Bonnie George Campbell 95 Bonny Bee Ho’m 100 Bonny Earl of Murray, The 92 Broomfield Hill, The 115 Brown Robyn’s Confession 143

Captain Wedderburn 162 Carnal and the Crane, The 133 Cherry Tree Carol, The 129 Clerk Colven 43 Clerk Sanders 66 Clerk’s Twa Sons o’ Owsenford, The 56 Cospatrick 26

Dæmon Lover, The 112 Dives and Lazarus 139

Elphin Knight, The 170

Fair Helen of Kirconnell 104 Fause Knight upon the Road, The 180 Friar in the Well, The 221

Get up and Bar the Door 231 Glenlogie 205 Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie, The 63 Grey Selchie of Shool Skerry, The 235

Jew’s Daughter, The 107 Judas 145

Kemp Owyne 16 King John and the Abbot 173 King Orfeo 208 Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter, The 224

Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight 155 Laily Worm and the Machrel of the Sea, The 12 Lament of the Border Widow, The 197 Lord of Learne, The 182 Lowlands of Holland, The 102 Lyke-wake Dirge 88

Maid and the Palmer, The 152

Our Goodman 215

Queen of Elfan’s Nourice, The 6

Saint Stephen and King Herod 125 Sir Hugh, or the Jew’s Daughter 107

Tam Lin 47 Thomas Rymer 1 Three Ravens, The 80 Twa Corbies, The 82

Unquiet Grave, The 41

Wee Wee Man, The 24 Wife of Usher’s Well, The 60 Willie’s Fatal Visit 119

Young Akin 32 Young Benjie 83 Young Hunting 74

INDEX OF FIRST LINES Page

Adam lay i-bowndyn 123 An ancient story Ile tell you anon 174 An eartly nourris sits and sings 64 As I pass’d by a river side 134 As it fell out upon a day 140 As I was wa’king all alone (Wee Wee Man) 24 As I was walking all alane (Twa Corbies) 82

By Arthur’s Dale as late I went 100

Clark Colven and his gay ladie 44 Clark Sanders and May Margret 66 Cospatrick has sent o’er the faem 26

Der lived a king inta da aste 209

Fair lady Isabel sits in her bower sewing 157 Four and twenty bonny boys 109 Four and twenty nobles sits in the king’s ha’ 205

Hame came our goodman 215 Her mother died when she was young 16 Hie upon Hielands 95 Hit wes upon a Scere-thorsday 146

I have a yong suster 163 I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low 6 In Norway Lands there lived a maid 235 It fell about the Martinmas time 231 It fell upon a Wodensday 143 It was the worthy lord of Learne 184 It was upon a Scere-Thursday (paraphrase) 147 I wish I were where Helen lies 105 ‘I was but seven year auld 12

Joseph was an old man 129

Lady Margaret sits in her bower door 32

My love has built a bony ship, and set her on the sea 102 My love he built me a bonny bower 98

O Allison Gross, that lives in yon tow’r 9 Of a’ the maids o’ fair Scotland 84 O hearken and hear, and I will you tell 221 O I forbid you, maidens a’ 49 O I will sing to you a sang 56 ‘O lady, rock never your young son young 75 ‘O whare are ye gaun? 180 ‘O whare hae ye been, my dearest dear 113

Seynt Stevene was a clerk 126

The elphin knight sits on yon hill 170 The Lord of Rosslyn’s daughter gaed through the wud her lane 164 The maid shee went to the well to washe 153 ‘The wind doth blow to-day, my love 41 There lived a wife at Usher’s Well 60 There was a knight and a lady bright 116 There was a lady of the North Country 159 There was a shepherd’s dochter 225 There was a youth, and a well-belov’d youth 202 There were three rauens sat on a tree 80 This ean night, this ean night 90 True Thomas lay o’er yond grassy bank 2 ’Twas on an evening fair I went to take the air 119

Willie has taen him o’er the fame 20

Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands 93 Yonder comes a courteous knight 212

Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_Errata_ (noted by transcriber):

Thomas Rymer, Introduction: Thomas of Erceldoune his prophetic powers were given him by the Queen of Elfland [_text unchanged_]

Clerk Sanders 4.2, note: it ... part of the door-latch. [_A word is missing at line-end_]

The Lyke-Wake Dirge 2.4: and Christ recieve thy [thy silly poor] Sawle. [_bracketed text is in smaller type above line, inserted between “thy” and “silly”: see Note_]

_Missing or Invisible Punctuation_