Part 17

6 ‘I’ll leave unto my eldest son My houses and my lands; I’ll leave unto my youngest son Full forty thousand pounds.

7 ‘I’ll leave unto my gay lady, And to my loving wife, The second part of my estate, To maintain a lady’s life.’

8 He kissd her on the pillow soft, In child-bed where she lay, And bade farewell, neer to return, Unto his lady gay.

9 He put his foot in the stirup, His nose began to bleed; The ring from ‘s finger burst in two When he mounted on his steed.

10 He had not rode a mile or two Till his horse stumbled down; ‘A token good,’ said Lord Arnwaters, ‘I’ll never reach London town.’

11 But when into Westminster Hall, Amongst the nobles all, ‘A traitor, a traitor, Lord Arnwaters, A traitor,’ they did him call.

12 ‘A traitor? a traitor how call ye me? And a traitor how can I be For keeping seven thousand valiant men To fight for brave Jamie?’

13 Up then came a brave old man, With a broad ax in his hand: ‘Your life, your life, Lord Arnwaters, Your life’s at my command.’

14 ‘My life, my life, my brave old man, My life I’ll give to thee, And the coat of green that’s on my back You shall have for your fee.

15 ‘There’s fifty pounds in one pocket, Pray deal ‘t among the poor; There’s fifty and four in the other pocket, Pray deal ‘t from door to door.

16 ‘There’s one thing more I have to say, This day before I die; To beg the lords and nobles all To be kind to my lady.’

* * * * *

G

Motherwell’s MS., p. 126, from the recitation of Mrs Trail, Paisley, July 9, 1825: a song of her mother’s.

1 The king has wrote a long letter, And sealed it with his han, And he has sent it to my lord Dunwaters, To read it if he can.

2 The very first line he lookit upon, It made him to lauch and to smile; The very next line he lookit upon, The tear from his eye did fall.

3 ‘As for you, my auldest son, My houses and my land; And as for you, my youngest son, Ten thousand pound in hand.

4 ‘As for you, my gay lady, You being my wedded wife, The third of my estate I will leave to you, For to keep you in a lady’s life.’

* * * * * *

* * * * *

H

Shropshire Folk-Lore, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, p. 537; as recited in 1881 by Mrs Dudley, of Much Wenlock.

1 The king he wrote a letter, And sealëd it with gold, And sent it to Lor Derwentwater, To read it if he could.

2 The first three lines he looked upon, They made him to smile; And the next three lines he looked upon Made tears fall from his eyes.

3 O then bespoke his gay lady, As she on a sick-bed lay: ‘Make your will, my lord, Before you go away.’

4 ‘O there is for my eldest son My houses and my land, And there is for my youngest son Ten thousand pounds in hand.

5 ‘There is for you, my gay lady, My true and lawful wife, The third part of my whole estate, To maintain you a lady’s life.’

6 Then he called to his stable-groom To bring him his gray steed; For he must to London go, The king had sent indeed.

7 When he put his foot in the stirrup, To mount his grey steed, His gold ring from his finger burst, And his nose began to bleed.

8 He had not gone but half a mile When it began to rain; ‘Now this is a token,’ his lordship said, ‘That I shall not return again.’

9 When he unto London came, A mob did at him rise, And they callëd him a traitor, Made the tears fall from his eyes.

10 ‘A traitor, a traitor!’ his lordship said, . . . . . . . Is it for keeping eight score men To fight for pretty Jimmee?’

11 O then bespoke a grave man, With a broad axe in his hand: ‘Hold your tongue, Lord Derwentwater, Your life lies at my command.’

12 ‘My life, my life,’ his lordship said, ‘My life I will give to thee, And the black velvet coat upon my back, Take it for thy fee.’

13 Then he laid his head upon the block, He did such courage show, And asked the executioner To cut it off at one blow.

* * * * *

I

The Gentleman’s Magazine, 1825, vol. xcv, Part First, p. 489, taken down by G. H., apparently in Westmoreland, from the dictation of an old person who had learned it from her father; restored “to something like poetical propriety” by the assistance of “a poetical friend.”

1 King George he did a letter write, And sealed it up with gold, And sent it to Lord Derwentwater, To read it if he could.

2 He sent his letter by no post, He sent it by no page, But sent it by a gallant knight As eer did combat wage.

3 The first line that my lord lookd on Struck him with strong surprise; The second, more alarming still, Made tears fall from his eyes.

4 He called up his stable-groom, Saying, Saddle me well my steed, For I must up to London go, Of me there seems great need.

5 His lady, hearing what he said, As she in child-bed lay, Cry’d, My dear lord, pray make your will Before you go away.

6 ‘I’ll leave to thee, my eldest son, My houses and my land; I’ll leave to thee, my younger son, Ten thousand pounds in hand.

7 ‘I’ll leave to thee, my lady gay, My lawful married wife, A third part of my whole estate, To keep thee a lady’s life.’

8 He knelt him down by her bed-side, And kissed her lips so sweet; The words that passd, alas! presaged They never more should meet.

9 Again he calld his stable-groom, Saying, Bring me out my steed, For I must up to London go, With instant haste and speed.

10 He took the reins into his hand, Which shook with fear and dread; The rings from off his fingers dropt, His nose gushd out and bled.

11 He had but ridden miles two or three When stumbling fell his steed; ‘Ill omens these,’ Derwentwater said, ‘That I for James must bleed.’

12 As he rode up Westminster street, In sight of the White Hall, The lords and ladies of London town A traitor they did him call.

13 ‘A traitor!’ Lord Derwentwater said, ‘A traitor how can I be, Unless for keeping five hundred men Fighting for King Jemmy?’

14 Then started forth a grave old man, With a broad-mouthd axe in hand: ‘Thy head, thy head, Lord Derwentwater, Thy head’s at my command.’

15 ‘My head, my head, thou grave old man, My head I will give thee; Here’s a coat of velvet on my back Will surely pay thy fee.

16 ‘But give me leave,’ Derwentwater said, ‘To speak words two or three; Ye lords and ladies of London town, Be kind to my lady.

17 ‘Here’s a purse of fifty sterling pounds, Pray give it to the poor; Here’s one of forty-five beside You may dole from door to door.’

18 He laid his head upon the block, The axe was sharp and strong, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

* * * * *

#A.#

2^4. Ere.

7^3. the 3rd.

_Motherwell has made a few changes in his printed copy._

12. _This stanza is given in Notes and Queries, First Series, I, 318, by a scholar of Christ’s Hospital, who informs us that the ballad was there current about 1785–1800:_

There’s fifty pounds in my right pocket, To be given to the poor; There’s fifty pounds in my left pocket, To be given from door to door.

#E.#

1^2. And sealëd it with gold _in Mr J. P. Morris’s communication to Notes and Queries, the same volume_, p. 333.

#F.#

2^1. by and by: _cf._ #E# 2.

2^2. No one, no not a slave: _cf._ #E# 2.

#I.#

18. _The remainder of four stanzas appended by_ G. H. _is omitted._

209

GEORDIE

#A.# ‘Geordie,’ Johnson’s Musical Museum, No. 346, p. 357, 1792.

#B.# “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford, 1802.

#C. a.# ‘The Laird of Geight, or Gae.’ #b.# ‘The Laird of Geight.’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford, 1813–15.

#D.# ‘The Laird of Gigh, or Gae,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford, 1813–15.

#E. a.# Kinloch MSS, V, 130. #b.# ‘Geordie,’ Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 192.

#F.# ‘Geordie Lukely,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 367.

#G.# ‘Geordie,’ ‘Geordie Lukelie,’ Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 17, p. 10.

#H.# ‘Will ye go to the Hielans, Geordie?’ Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 44.

#I. a.# ‘Gight’s Lady,’ Buchan’s MSS, II, 143. #b.# ‘Laird (Lord?) of Gight,’ Kinloch MSS, VI, 1.

#J.# ‘Gight’s Lady,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 133.

#K.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 400, two stanzas.

#L.# ‘Geordie,’ Cunningham’s Songs of Scotland, II, 186, two stanzas.

#M.# ‘Geordie,’ ‘Geordie Lukely,’ Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 2, one stanza.

#N.# ‘Geordie,’ Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 20, one stanza.

“Of this,” says Motherwell, “many variations exist among reciters,” and his remark is borne out by what is here given.

The copy in Cunningham’s Songs of Scotland, II, 186, is #A# retouched, with st. 5 dropped and two stanzas (#L#) inserted from recitation. The texts of Christie, #I#, 52, 84, are #J# abridged and #E b#. Of #J# Christie says that he heard in 1848 a version sung by a native of Buchan, Aberdeenshire, who had it through her grandmother and great-grandmother, which differed only in being more condensed and wanting the catastrophe, and in having Badenoch’s lady for Bignet’s, and Keith-Hall and Gartly for Black Riggs and Kincraigie.

Geordie Gordon, #A#, of Gight (Gigh), #B b#, #C#, #D#, #I#, of the Bog o Gight, #H#, is in prison, on a charge endangering his life. He sends a message to his wife to come to Edinburgh. She rides thither with the utmost haste, and finds Geordie in extremity. She is told that his life may be redeemed by the payment of a large sum of money. She raises a contribution on the spot, pays the ransom, and rides off with her husband.

Kinloch and others incline to take Geordie to be George Gordon, fourth earl of Huntly, who incurred the Queen Regent’s displeasure for failing to execute a commission against a Highland robber in 1554. Huntly was committed to Edinburgh Castle, and some of his many enemies urged that he should be banished to France, others that he should be put to death. The Earl of Cassilis, though a foe to Huntly, resisted these measures on grounds of patriotism, and proposed that he should be deprived of certain honors and offices and fined. A fine was exacted, and the places which had been taken from him were restored.[88] With regard to this hypothesis, it may at least be said that, if it should be accepted, the ballad would be quite as faithful to history as many others.

#A#-#E# are the purer forms of the ballad; #F#-#J# are corrupted by admixture.

Geordie is Geordie Lukely of Stirling in #F#. In #G#, he is the Earl of Cassilis, ‘of Hye,’ as if some singer of the Gordons had turned the tables on Huntly’s enemy. In #H#, Geordie lives at the Bog o Gight, and should be the Earl, or Marquis, of Huntly; but writers of peerages will consult st. 17.

There has been a battle in the North in #A#-#E#. Sir Charles Hay[89] has been killed, and Geordie is in custody for this, #A#, #B#. Geordie has killed a man and is to die, #C#; the man is his wife’s brother, #D#. In #E#, Geordie is a rebel.

#F# begins with two stanzas from a vulgar last-dying-speech, of which more by and by: otherwise the story is not essentially injured, though the style is lowered. Geordie (in the first two stanzas) has done many an ill deed, but no murder or slaughter; he has stolen fifteen of the king’s horse and sold them in Bohemia. Earl Cassilis, likewise, in #G#, could not keep his hand off horses; he has stolen three geldings out of a park and sold them to Balleny (Balveny). Huntly, if it be he, in #H#, has only made free with the king’s deer. In #I#, #J#, Geordie has had an intrigue with Bignet’s (Pilbagnet’s, Badenoch’s) lady, for which the husband has thrown him into prison, and he is to die. But he owns to more than this in #J#. Beginning with an acknowledgment of one of the king’s best steeds stolen and sold in ‘Bevany,’ upon being pressed, he confesses to a woman abused and five orphan babes killed for their money.

Geordie points his message to his wife in #C# 2, #D# 4, by begging her to sew him or bring him his linen shirt (shirts), a good side shirt, which will be the last he shall need, and a lang side sark is equally prominent in the lady’s thoughts in #I# 8.

The lady stops for nothing in her ride to Edinburgh. She will not, and does not, eat or drink all the way, #A# 4, 5. When she comes to the water-side, finding no boat ready, she swims the Queen’s Ferry, #B# 7, #C# 5, #D# 9, #J# 13, #L# 1; or pays a boatman prodigally to take her over, #H# 9, #I# 9, #J# 14.

When the lady gaes oer the pier of Leith, comes to Edinburgh, to the West Port, the Canongate, the Parliament Close, the tolbooth-stair, the prison-door, she deals out crowns and ducatoons, makes the handfus o red gold fly, among the numerous poor, and bids them pray for Geordie. She has the prudence, in #G# 5, to do the same among the nobles many at the tolbooth-gate, that they may plead for Geordie.

The block and axe are in sight, and Geordie, in chains, is coming down the stair, #A#; the napkin is laid over his face, and the gallows is making ready, #B# (so #F#, but put further on), his head is to go, #C#; the rest of the nobles sit (stand) hat on head, but hat in hand stands Geordie, #D#, #E#, #H#, #I#, #J#, #L#.

The lady makes a plea for her husband’s life. She is the mother of many children (the tale ranges from six to eleven) and is going with yet another, #B#, #C#, #K#, #N#. She would bear them all over again for the life of Geordie, #C#, #D#, or see them all streekit before her eyes, #B#; and for his life she will part with all that she owns, #A# 10, #B# 11, 16, #D# 14.

The king in #A# is moved by neither of these appeals. The number of her children is so far from affecting him that he orders the heading-man to make haste. But the Gordons collect and pass the word to be ready. There would have been bloody bouks upon the green.[90]

The lady is told that by paying a good round sum, 5,000 (500) pounds, 10,000 (1000) crowns, she can redeem Geordie’s life. An aged lord prompts the king to offer these terms in #A#; in the other versions, they are proposed directly; by the king himself, #F#, #G#, #I#; by the queen, #B#, #I#; by the good Argyle, #D#; by an English lord, #H#. The bystanders contribute handsomely; she pays the ransom down, and wins the life of Geordie, #A#-#D#, #G#-#J#.

In #E#, which is a mere fragment, there is no fine or collection: a bold baron says, such true lovers shall not be parted, and she gets her Geordie forthwith. In #F#, no contribution is required, because the lady, after scattering the red gold among the poor, is still in a condition to produce the five thousand pound from her own pocket. For this she receives a ‘remit,’ with which she hies to the gallows and stops the impending execution. In #I b#, which is defective, the money collected is to pay the jailer’s fee. After the discharge has been secured (in two or three copies earlier), Lord Corstorph, #B a#, the Laird o Logie, #B b#, an Irish lord, #C#, #H#, an English lord, #D#, the _gleid_ Argyle, #I#, Lord Montague, #J#, expresses a wish that Geordie’s head were off, because he might have succeeded to the lady. The lady checks this aspiration, sometimes in very abusive language.

The pair now ride off together, and when she is set in her saddle, no bird in bush or on briar ever sang so sweet as she, #B#, #C#, #E#, #F#, #H#, #I#. If we were to trust some of those who recite her story, the lady who has shown so much spirit and devotion was not one of those who blush to find good deeds fame. ‘Gar print me ballants that I am a worthy lady,’ #B# 30 makes her say; ‘Hae me to some writer’s house, that I may write down Gight’s lament and how I borrowed Geordie,’ #I a# 25; ‘Call for one of the best clerks, that he may write all this I’ve done for Geordie,’ #J# 36. What she really did say is perhaps faithfully given in #D# 18: ‘Where is there a writer’s house, that I may write to the north that I have won the life of Geordie?’

#I# and #J# are probably from stall-prints, and it has not been thought necessary to notice some things which may have been put into these to eke them out to a convenient length. #J# has an entirely spurious supplement. When the pair are riding away, and even as the wife is protesting her affection, Geordie turns round and says, A finger of Bignet’s lady’s hand is worth a’ your fair body. A dispute ensues, and Geordie pulls out a dagger and stabs his lady; he then takes to flight, and never is found. Another set, mentioned by Motherwell, makes Geordie drown his deliverer in the sea, in a fit of jealousy (Minstrelsy, p. lxxvi, 46).

There is an English broadside ballad, on the death of “George Stoole” which seemed to Motherwell “evidently imitated from the Scottish song.” This was printed by H. Gosson, whose time is put at 1607–41.[91] This ballad was to be sung “to a delicate Scottish tune;” Georgy comes in as a rhyme at the end of stanzas not seldom; Georgy writes to his lady, bewailing his folly; he never stole no oxe nor cow, nor ever murdered any, but fifty horse he did receive of a merchant’s man of Gory, for which he was condemned to die, and did die. These are the data for determining the question of imitation.

There is a later ‘Georgy’ ballad, of the same general cast, on the life and death of “George of Oxford,” a professed and confessed highwayman, a broadside printed in the last quarter of the seventeenth century. In this, Lady Gray hastens to Newcastle to beg Georgy’s life of the judge, and offers gold and land to save him, after the fashion of Lady Ward in ‘Hughie Graham;’ to no purpose, as in ‘Hughie Graham.’ This Georgy owns and boasts himself a thief, but with limitations much the same as those which are made a point of by the other; he never stole horse, mare, or cloven-foot, with one exception—the king’s white steeds, which he sold to Bohemia.

Both of these ballads are given in an appendix.

Whether the writers of these English ballads knew of the Scottish ‘Geordie,’ I would not undertake to affirm or deny; it is clear that some far-back reciter of the Scottish ballad had knowledge of the later English broadside. The English ballads, however, are mere “goodnights.” The Scottish ballads have a proper story, with a beginning, middle, and end, and (save one late copy), a good end, and they are most certainly original and substantially independent of the English. The Scottish Geordie is no thief, nor even a Johnie Armstrong. There are certain passages in certain versions which give that impression, it is true, but these are incongruous with the story, and have been adopted from some copy of the broadside, the later rather than the earlier. These are, the first two stanzas of #F#, utterly out of place, where we have the king’s horses stolen and sold in Bohemia, almost exactly as in the ballad of ‘George of Oxford,’ 15; #G# 7, where the Earl of Cassilis is made to steal geldings and sell them in Balleny; and #J# 23, in which the Laird of Gight steals one of the king’s steeds (precisely as in ‘George of Oxford’) and sells it in Bevany. That is to say, we have the very familiar case of the introduction (generally accidental and often infelicitous) of a portion of one ballad into another; which, if accidental in the present instance, would easily be accounted for by a George being the hero in each. Further; the burden of #E#, embodied in the ballad in two versions, #I# 27, #J# 35, has a general resemblance to that of ‘George Stoole,’ and could hardly have been original with the Scottish ballad. There was probably a ‘Geordie Luklie,’ a Scottish variety of one of the English broadsides.

#G# is translated by Gerhard, p. 56; #A#, in part, by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 101.

* * * * *

A

Johnson’s Museum, No 346, p. 357, 1792; communicated by Robert Burns.

1 There was a battle in the north, And nobles there was many, And they hae killd Sir Charlie Hay, And they laid the wyte on Geordie.

2 O he has written a lang letter, He sent it to his lady: ‘Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town, To see what word’s o Geordie.’

3 When first she lookd the letter on, She was baith red and rosy; But she had na read a word but twa Till she wallowt like a lily.

4 ‘Gar get to me my gude grey steed, My menyie a’ gae wi me, For I shall neither eat nor drink Till Enbrugh town shall see me.’

5 And she has mountit her gude grey steed, Her menyie a’ gaed wi her, And she did neither eat nor drink Till Enbrugh town did see her.

6 And first appeard the fatal block, And syne the aix to head him, And Geordie cumin down the stair, And bands o airn upon him.

7 But tho he was chaind in fetters strang, O airn and steel sae heavy, There was na ane in a’ the court Sae bra a man as Geordie.

8 O she’s down on her bended knee, I wat she’s pale and weary: ‘O pardon, pardon, noble king, And gie me back my dearie!

9 ‘I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, The seventh neer saw his daddie; O pardon, pardon, noble king, Pity a waefu lady!’

10 ‘Gar bid the headin-man mak haste,’ Our king reply’d fu lordly: ‘O noble king, tak a’ that’s mine, But gie me back my Geordie!’

11 The Gordons cam, and the Gordons ran, And they were stark and steady, And ay the word amang them a’ Was, Gordons, keep you ready!

12 An aged lord at the king’s right hand Says, Noble king, but hear me; Gar her tell down five thousand pound, And gie her back her dearie.

13 Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, Some gae her dollars many, And she’s telld down five thousand pound, And she’s gotten again her dearie.

14 She blinkit blythe in her Geordie’s face, Says, Dear I’ve bought thee, Geordie; But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green Or I had tint my laddie.

15 He claspit her by the middle sma, And he kist her lips sae rosy: ‘The fairest flower o woman-kind Is my sweet, bonie lady!’

* * * * *

B

#a.# “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 13, Abbotsford. Sent to Scott by William Laidlaw, September 11, 1802 (Letters, vol. i, No 73), as written down by Laidlaw from the recitation of Mr Bartram of Biggar. #b.# Variations received by Laidlaw from J. Scott.

1 ‘There was a battle i the north Amang our nobles many, And they have killed Sir Charles Hay, And they’ve taen thrae me my Geordie.’

2 ‘O where’ll I gett a wi bit boy, A bonnie boy that’s ready, That will gae in to my biggin With a letter to my ladie?’

3 Then up and startit a wi bit boy, An a bonnie boy was ready: ‘It’s I’ll gae in to your biggin Wi a letter to your ladie.’

4 When the day was fair an the way was clear, An the wi bit boy was ready, An he’s gane in to his biggin, Wi a letter to his ladie.

5 When she lookd the letter on, She was no a wearit ladie; But when she lookit the other side, She mourned for her Geordie.

6 ‘Gar sadle to me the black,’ she says, ‘For the brown rade neer sey bonnie, An I’ll gae down to Enbro town, An see my true-love Geordie.’

7 When she cam to the water-side, The cobles war na ready; She’s turnd her horse’s head about, An in by the Queen’s Ferry.

8 When she cam to the West Port, There war poor folks many; She dealt crowns an the ducatdowns, And bade them pray for Geordie.