Chapter 82

In Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellany, he tells us that about thirty of the songs in that publication were the works of some young gentlemen of his acquaintance; which songs are marked with the letters D. C. &c.--Old Mr. Tytler of Woodhouselee, the worthy and able defender of the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the _Tea-table_, were the composition of a Mr. Crawfurd, of the house of Achnames, who was afterwards unfortunately drowned coming from France.--As Tytler was most intimately acquainted with Allan Ramsay, I think the anecdote may be depended on. Of consequence, the beautiful song of Tweed Side is Mr. Crawfurd's, and indeed does great honour to his poetical talents. He was a Robert Crawfurd; the Mary he celebrates was a Mary Stewart, of the Castle-Milk family, afterwards married to a Mr. John Ritchie.

I have seen a song, calling itself the original Tweed Side, and said to have been composed by a Lord Yester. It consisted of two stanzas, of which I still recollect the first--

"When Maggy and I was acquaint, I carried my noddle fu' hie; Nae lintwhite on a' the green plain, Nor gowdspink sae happy as me: But I saw her sae fair and I lo'ed: I woo'd, but I came nae great speed; So now I maun wander abroad, And lay my banes far frae the Tweed."--

* * * * *

THE POSY.

It appears evident to me that Oswald composed his _Roslin Castle_ on the modulation of this air.--In the second part of Oswald's, in the three first bars, he has either hit on a wonderful similarity to, or else he has entirely borrowed the three first bars of the old air; and the close of both tunes is almost exactly the same. The old verses to which it was sung, when I took down the notes from a country girl's voice, had no great merit.--The following is a specimen:

"There was a pretty May, and a milkin she went; Wi' her red rosy cheeks, and her coal black hair; And she has met a young man a comin o'er the bent, With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.

O where are ye goin, my ain pretty May, Wi' thy red rosy cheeks, and thy coal black hair? Unto the yowes a milkin, kind sir, she says, With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.

What if I gang alang with thee, my ain pretty May, Wi' thy red rosy cheeks, any thy coal-black hair; Wad I be aught the warse o' that, kind sir, she says, With a double and adieu to thee, fair May."

* * * * *

MARY'S DREAM.

The Mary here alluded to is generally supposed to be Miss Mary Macghie, daughter to the Laird of Airds, in Galloway. The poet was a Mr. John Lowe, who likewise wrote another beautiful song, called Pompey's Ghost.--I have seen a poetic epistle from him in North America, where he now is, or lately was, to a lady in Scotland.--By the strain of the verses, it appeared that they allude to some love affair.

* * * * *

THE MAID THAT TENDS THE GOATS.

BY MR. DUDGEON.

This Dudgeon is a respectable farmer's son in Berwickshire.

* * * * *

I WISH MY LOVE WERE IN A MIRE.

I never heard more of the words of this old song than the title.

* * * * *

ALLAN WATER.

This Allan Water, which the composer of the music has honoured with the name of the air, I have been told is Allan Water, in Strathallan.

* * * * *

THERE'S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE.

This is one of the most beautiful songs in the Scots, or any other language.--The two lines,

"And will I see his face again! And will I hear him speak!"

as well as the two preceding ones, are unequalled almost by anything I ever heard or read: and the lines,

"The present moment is our ain, The neist we never saw,"--

are worthy of the first poet. It is long posterior to Ramsay's days. About the year 1771, or 72, it came first on the streets as a ballad; and I suppose the composition of the song was not much anterior to that period.

* * * * *

TARRY WOO.

This is a very pretty song; but I fancy that the first half stanza, as well as the tune itself, are much older than the rest of the words.

* * * * *

GRAMACHREE.

The song of Gramachree was composed by a Mr. Poe, a counsellor at law in Dublin. This anecdote I had from a gentleman who knew the lady, the "Molly," who is the subject of the song, and to whom Mr. Poe sent the first manuscript of his most beautiful verses. I do not remember any single line that has more true pathos than

"How can she break that honest heart that wears her in its core!"

But as the song is Irish, it had nothing to do in this collection.

* * * * *

THE COLLIER'S BONNIE LASSIE.

The first half stanza is much older than the days of Ramsay.--The old words began thus:

"The collier has a dochter, and, O, she's wonder bonnie! A laird he was that sought her, rich baith in lands and money. She wad na hae a laird, nor wad she be a lady, But she wad hae a collier, the colour o' her daddie."

* * * * *

MY AIN KIND DEARIE-O.

The old words of this song are omitted here, though much more beautiful than these inserted; which were mostly composed by poor Fergusson, in one of his merry humours. The old words began thus:

"I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, My ain kind dearie, O, I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, My ain kind dearie, O, Altho' the night were ne'er sae wat, And I were ne'er sae weary, O; I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, My ain kind dearie, O."--

* * * * *

MARY SCOTT, THE FLOWER OF YARROW.

Mr. Robertson, in his statistical account of the parish of Selkirk, says, that Mary Scott, the Flower of Yarrow, was descended from the Dryhope, and married into the Harden family. Her daughter was married to a predecessor of the present Sir Francis Elliot, of Stobbs, and of the late Lord Heathfield.

There is a circumstance in their contract of marriage that merits attention, and it strongly marks the predatory spirit of the times. The father-in-law agrees to keep his daughter for some time after the marriage; for which the son-in-law binds himself to give him the profits of the first Michaelmas moon!

* * * * *

DOWN THE BURN, DAVIE.

I have been informed, that the tune of "Down the burn, Davie," was the composition of David Maigh, keeper of the blood slough hounds, belonging to the Laird of Riddel, in Tweeddale.

* * * * *

BLINK O'ER THE BURN, SWEET BETTIE.

The old words, all that I remember, are,--

"Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, It is a cauld winter night: It rains, it hails, it thunders, The moon, she gies nae light: It's a' for the sake o' sweet Betty, That ever I tint my way; Sweet, let me lie beyond thee Until it be break o' day.--

O, Betty will bake my bread, And Betty will brew my ale, And Betty will be my love, When I come over the dale: Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, Blink over the burn to me, And while I hae life, dear lassie, My ain sweet Betty thou's be."

* * * * *

THE BLITHSOME BRIDAL.

I find the "Blithsome Bridal" in James Watson's collection of Scots poems, printed at Edinburgh, in 1706. This collection, the publisher says, is the first of its nature which has been published in our own native Scots dialect--it is now extremely scarce.

* * * * *

JOHN HAY'S BONNIE LASSIE.

John Hay's "Bonnie Lassie" was daughter of John Hay, Earl or Marquis of Tweeddale, and late Countess Dowager of Roxburgh.--She died at Broomlands, near Kelso, some time between the years 1720 and 1740.

* * * * *

THE BONIE BRUCKET LASSIE.

The two first lines of this song are all of it that is old. The rest of the song, as well as those songs in the Museum marked T., are the works of an obscure, tippling, but extraordinary body of the name of Tytler, commonly known by the name of Balloon Tytler, from his having projected a balloon; a mortal, who, though he drudges about Edinburgh as a common printer, with leaky shoes, a sky-lighted hat, and knee-buckles as unlike as George-by-the-grace-of-God, and Solomon-the-son-of-David; yet that same unknown drunken mortal is author and compiler of three-fourths of Elliot's pompous Encyclopedia Britannica, which he composed at half a guinea a week!

* * * * *

SAE MERRY AS WE TWA HA'E BEEN.

This song is beautiful.--The chorus in particular is truly pathetic. I never could learn anything of its author.

CHORUS.

"Sae merry as we twa ha'e been, Sae merry as we twa ha'e been; My heart is like for to break, When I think on the days we ha'e seen."

* * * * *

THE BANKS OF FORTH.

This air is Oswald's.

* * * * *

THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUAIR.

This is another beautiful song of Mr. Crawfurd's composition. In the neighbourhood of Traquair, tradition still shows the old "Bush;" which, when I saw it, in the year 1787, was composed of eight or nine ragged birches. The Earl of Traquair has planted a clump of trees near by, which he calls "The New Bush."

* * * * *

CROMLET'S LILT.

The following interesting account of this plaintive dirge was communicated to Mr. Riddel by Alexander Fraser Tytler, Esq., of Woodhouselee.

"In the latter end of the sixteenth century, the Chisolms were proprietors of the estate of Cromlecks (now possessed by the Drummonds). The eldest son of that family was very much attached to a daughter of Sterling of Ardoch, commonly known by the name of Fair Helen of Ardoch.

"At that time the opportunities of meeting betwixt the sexes were more rare, consequently more sought after than now; and the Scottish ladies, far from priding themselves on extensive literature, were thought sufficiently book-learned if they could make out the Scriptures in their mother-tongue. Writing was entirely out of the line of female education. At that period the most of our young men of family sought a fortune, or found a grave, in France. Cromlus, when he went abroad to the war, was obliged to leave the management of his correspondence with his mistress to a lay-brother of the monastery of Dumblain, in the immediate neighbourhood of Cromleck, and near Ardoch. This man, unfortunately, was deeply sensible of Helen's charms. He artfully prepossessed her with stories to the disadvantage of Cromlus; and, by misinterpreting or keeping up the letters and messages intrusted to his care, he entirely irritated both. All connexion was broken off betwixt them; Helen was inconsolable, and Cromlus has left behind him, in the ballad called 'Cromlet's Lilt,' a proof of the elegance of his genius, as well as the steadiness of his love.

"When the artful monk thought time had sufficiently softened Helen's sorrow, he proposed himself as a lover: Helen was obdurate: but at last, overcome by the persuasions of her brother, with whom she lived, and who, having a family of thirty-one children, was probably very well pleased to get her off his hands--she submitted, rather than consented to the ceremony; but there her compliance ended; and, when forcibly put into bed, she started quite frantic from it, screaming out, that after three gentle taps on the wainscot, at the bed-head, she heard Cromlus's voice, crying, 'Helen, Helen, mind me!' Cromlus soon after coming home, the treachery of the confidant was discovered,--her marriage disannulled,--and Helen became Lady Cromlecks."

N. B. Marg. Murray, mother to these thirty-one children, was daughter to Murray of Strewn, one of the seventeen sons of Tullybardine, and whose youngest son, commonly called the Tutor of Ardoch, died in the year 1715, aged 111 years.

* * * * *

MY DEARIE, IF THOU DIE.

Another beautiful song of Crawfurd's.

* * * * *

SHE ROSE AND LOOT ME IN.

The old set of this song, which is still to be found in printed collections, is much prettier than this; but somebody, I believe it was Ramsay, took it into his head to clear it of some seeming indelicacies, and made it at once more chaste and more dull.

* * * * *

GO TO THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.

I am not sure if this old and charming air be of the South, as is commonly said, or of the North of Scotland. There is a song, apparently as ancient us "Ewe-bughts, Marion," which sings to the same tune, and is evidently of the North.--It begins thus:

"The Lord o' Gordon had three dochters, Mary, Marget, and Jean, They wad na stay at bonie Castle Gordon, But awa to Aberdeen."

* * * * *

LEWIS GORDON.

This air is a proof how one of our Scots tunes comes to be composed out of another. I have one of the earliest copies of the song, and it has prefixed,

"Tune of Tarry Woo."--

Of which tune a different set has insensibly varied into a different air.--To a Scots critic, the pathos of the line,

"'Tho' his back be at the wa',"

--must be very striking. It needs not a Jacobite prejudice to be affected with this song.

The supposed author of "Lewis Gordon" was a Mr. Geddes, priest, at Shenval, in the Ainzie.

* * * * *

O HONE A RIE.

Dr. Blacklock informed me that this song was composed on the infamous massacre of Glencoe.

* * * * *

I'LL NEVER LEAVE THEE.

This is another of Crawfurd's songs, but I do not think in his happiest manner.--What an absurdity, to join such names as _Adonis_ and _Mary_ together!

* * * * *

CORN RIGS ARE BONIE.

All the old words that ever I could meet to this air were the following, which seem to have been an old chorus:

"O corn rigs and rye rigs, O corn rigs are bonie; And where'er you meet a bonie lass, Preen up her cockernony."

* * * * *

THE MUCKING OF GEORDIE'S BYRE.

The chorus of this song is old; the rest is the work of Balloon Tytler.

* * * * *

BIDE YE YET.

There is a beautiful song to this tune, beginning,

"Alas, my son, you little know,"--

which is the composition of Miss Jenny Graham, of Dumfries.

* * * * *

WAUKIN O' THE FAULD.

There are two stanzas still sung to this tune, which I take to be the original song whence Ramsay composed his beautiful song of that name in the Gentle Shepherd.--It begins

"O will ye speak at our town, As ye come frae the fauld."

I regret that, as in many of our old songs, the delicacy of this old fragment is not equal to its wit and humour.

* * * * *

TRANENT-MUIR.

"Tranent-Muir," was composed by a Mr. Skirving, a very worthy respectable farmer near Haddington. I have heard the anecdote often, that Lieut. Smith, whom he mentions in the ninth stanza, came to Haddington after the publication of the song, and sent a challenge to Skirving to meet him at Haddington, and answer for the unworthy manner in which he had noticed him in his song. "Gang away back," said the honest farmer, "and tell Mr. Smith that I hae nae leisure to come to Haddington; but tell him to come here, and I'll tak a look o' him, and if I think I'm fit to fecht him, I'll fecht him; and if no, I'll do as he did--_I'll rin awa."_--

* * * * *

TO THE WEAVERS GIN YE GO.

The chorus of this song is old, the rest of it is mine. Here, once for all, let me apologize for many silly compositions of mine in this work. Many beautiful airs wanted words; in the hurry of other avocations, if I could string a parcel of rhymes together anything near tolerable, I was fain to let them pass. He must be an excellent poet indeed whose every performance is excellent.

* * * * *

POLWARTH ON THE GREEN.

The author of "Polwarth on the Green" is Capt. John Drummond M'Gregor, of the family of Bochaldie.

* * * * *

STREPHON AND LYDIA.

The following account of this song I had from Dr. Blacklock.

The Strephon and Lydia mentioned in the song were perhaps the loveliest couple of their time. The gentleman was commonly known by the name of Beau Gibson. The lady was the "Gentle Jean," celebrated somewhere in Hamilton of Bangour's poems.--Having frequently met at public places, they had formed a reciprocal attachment, which their friends thought dangerous, as their resources were by no means adequate to their tastes and habits of life. To elude the bad consequences of such a connexion, Strephon was sent abroad with a commission, and perished in Admiral Vernon's expedition to Carthagena.

The author of this song was William Wallace, Esq. of Cairnhill, in Ayrshire.

* * * * *

I'M O'ER YOUNG TO MARRY YET.

The chorus of this song is old. The rest of it, such as it is, is mine.

* * * * *

M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL.

M'Pherson, a daring robber, in the beginning of this century, was condemned to be hanged at the assizes of Inverness. He is said, when under sentence of death, to have composed this tune, which he called his own lament or farewell.

Gow has published a variation of this fine tune as his own composition, which he calls "The Princess Augusta."

* * * * *

MY JO, JANET.

Johnson, the publisher, with a foolish delicacy, refused to insert the last stanza of this humorous ballad.

* * * * *

THE SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT.

The words by a Mr. R. Scott, from the town or neighbourhood of Biggar.

* * * * *

THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

I composed these stanzas standing under the falls of Aberfeldy, at or near Moness.

* * * * *

THE HIGHLAND LASSIE O.

This was a composition of mine in very early life, before I was known at all in the world. My Highland lassie was a warm-hearted, charming young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of the most ardent reciprocal attachment, we met by appointment on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot by the banks of Ayr, where we spent the day in taking a farewell before she should embark for the West Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected change of life. At the close of autumn following she crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock, where she had scarce landed when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried my dear girl to the grave in a few days, before I could even hear of her last illness.

* * * * *

FIFE, AND A' THE LANDS ABOUT IT.

This song is Dr. Blacklock's. He, as well as I, often gave Johnson verses, trifling enough perhaps, but they served as a vehicle to the music.

* * * * *

WERE NA MY HEART LIGHT I WAD DIE.

Lord Hailes, in the notes to his collection of ancient Scots poems, says that this song was the composition of a Lady Grissel Baillie, daughter of the first Earl of Marchmont, and wife of George Baillie, of Jerviswood.

* * * * *

THE YOUNG MAN'S DREAM.

This song is the composition of Balloon Tytler.

* * * * *

STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT.

This air in the composition of one of the worthiest and best-hearted men living--Allan Masterton, schoolmaster in Edinburgh. As he and I were both sprouts of Jacobitism we agreed to dedicate the words and air to that cause.

To tell the matter-of-fact, except when my passions were heated by some accidental cause, my Jacobitism was merely by way of _vive la bagatelle._

* * * * *

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.

The chorus of this is old; the two stanzas are mine.

* * * * *

THE TEARS OF SCOTLAND.

Dr. Blacklock told me that Smollet, who was at the bottom a great Jacobite, composed these beautiful and pathetic verses on the infamous depredations of the Duke of Cumberland after the battle of Culloden.

* * * * *

WHAT WILL I DO GIN MY HOGGIE DIE.

Dr. Walker, who was minister at Moffat in 1772, and is now (1791) Professor of Natural History in the University of Edinburgh, told the following anecdote concerning this air.--He said, that some gentlemen, riding a few years ago through Liddesdale, stopped at a hamlet consisting of a few houses, called Moss Platt, when they were struck with this tune, which an old woman, spinning on a rock at her door, was singing. All she could tell concerning it was, that she was taught it when a child, and it was called "What will I do gin my Hoggie die?" No person, except a few females at Moss Platt, knew this fine old tune, which in all probability would have been lost had not one of the gentlemen, who happened to have a flute with him, taken it down.

* * * * *

I DREAM'D I LAY WHERE FLOWERS WERE SPRINGING.

These two stanzas I composed when I was seventeen, and are among the oldest of my printed pieces.

* * * * *

AH! THE POOR SHEPHERD'S MOURNFUL FATE.

Tune--"Gallashiels."

The old title, "Sour Plums o' Gallashiels," probably was the beginning of a song to this air, which is now lost.

The tune of Gallashiels was composed about the beginning of the present century by the Laird of Gallashiel's piper.

* * * * *

THE BANKS OF THE DEVON.

These verses were composed on a charming girl, a Miss Charlotte Hamilton, who is now married to James M'Kitrick Adair, Esq., physician. She is sister to my worthy friend Gavin Hamilton, of Mauchline, and was born on the banks of the Ayr, but was, at the time I wrote these lines, residing at Herveyston, in Clackmannanshire, on the romantic banks of the little river Devon. I first heard the air from a lady in Inverness, and got the notes taken down for this work.

* * * * *

MILL, MILL O.

The original, or at least a song evidently prior to Ramsay's is still extant.--It runs thus,

CHORUS.

"The mill, mill O, and the kill, kill O, And the coggin o' Peggy's wheel, O, The sack and the sieve, and a' she did leave, And danc'd the miller's reel O.--

As I came down yon waterside, And by yon shellin-hill O, There I spied a bonie bonie lass, And a lass that I lov'd right well O."

* * * * *

WE RAN AND THEY RAN.

The author of "We ran and they ran"--was a Rev. Mr. Murdoch M'Lennan, minister at Crathie, Dee-side.

* * * * *

WALY, WALY.

In the west country I have heard a different edition of the second stanza.--Instead of the four lines, beginning with, "When cockle-shells, &c.," the other way ran thus:--

"O wherefore need I busk my head, Or wherefore need I kame my hair, Sin my fause luve has me forsook, And sys, he'll never luve me mair."

* * * * *

DUNCAN GRAY.

Dr. Blacklock informed me that he had often heard the tradition, that this air was composed by a carman in Glasgow.

* * * * *

DUMBARTON DRUMS.

This is the last of the West-Highland airs; and from it over the whole tract of country to the confines of Tweedside, there is hardly a tune or song that one can say has taken its origin from any place or transaction in that part of Scotland.--The oldest Ayrshire reel, is Stewarton Lasses, which was made by the father of the present Sir Walter Montgomery Cunningham, alias Lord Lysle; since which period there has indeed been local music in that country in great plenty.--Johnie Faa is the only old song which I could ever trace as belonging to the extensive county of Ayr.

* * * * *

CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.

This song is by the Duke of Gordon.--The old verses are,