The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 4 (of 5)
Part 3
23 ‘Here, Johnny Armstrong, take thou my sword, That is made of the mettle so fine, And when thou comst to the border-side, Remember the death of Sir Hugh of the Grime.’
* * * * *
B
Johnson’s Museum, No 303, p. 312, contributed by Burns; Cromek, Reliques of Robert Burns, 4th ed., 1817, p. 287; Cromek, Select Scottish Songs, etc., 1810, II, 151. From oral tradition in Ayrshire.
1 Our lords are to the mountains gane, A hunting o the fallow deer, And they hae gripet Hughie Graham, For stealing o the bishop’s mare.
2 And they hae tied him hand and foot, And led him up thro Stirling town; The lads and lasses met him there, Cried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loun!
3 ‘O lowse my right hand free,’ he says, ‘And put my braid sword in the same, He’s no in Stirling town this day Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham.’
4 Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord, As he sat by the bishop’s knee: ‘Five hundred white stots I’ll gie yon, If ye’ll let Hughie Graham gae free.’
5 ‘O haud your tongue,’ the bishop says, ‘And wi your pleading let me be! For tho ten Grahams were in his coat, Hughie Graham this day shall die.’
6 Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord, As she sat by the bishop’s knee: ‘Five hundred white pence I’ll gee you, If ye’ll gie Hughie Graham to me.’
7 ‘O haud your tongue now, lady fair, And wi your pleading let it be! Altho ten Grahams were in his coat, It’s for my honour he maun die.’
8 They’ve taen him to the gallows-knowe, He looked to the gallows-tree, Yet never colour left his cheek, Nor ever did he blink his ee.
9 At length he looked round about, To see whatever he could spy, And there he saw his auld father, And he was weeping bitterly.
10 ‘O haud your tongue, my father dear, And wi your weeping let it be! Thy weeping’s sairer on my heart Than a’ that they can do to me.
11 ‘And ye may gie my brother John My sword that’s bent in the middle clear, And let him come at twelve o’clock, And see me pay the bishop’s mare.
12 ‘And ye may gie my brother James My sword that’s bent in the middle brown, And bid him come at four o’clock, And see his brother Hugh cut down.
13 ‘Remember me to Maggy my wife, The niest time ye gang oer the moor; Tell her, she staw the bishop’s mare, Tell her, she was the bishop’s whore.
14 ‘And ye may tell my kith and kin I never did disgrace their blood, And when they meet the bishop’s cloak, To mak it shorter by the hood.’
* * * * *
C
Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1803, III, 85, 1833, III, 107, procured by W. Laidlaw in Blackhouse, and long current in Selkirkshire; with readings from Ritson’s copy.
1 Gude Lord Scroope’s to the hunting gane, He has ridden oer moss and muir, And he has grippet Hughie the Græme, For stealing o the bishop’s mare.
2 ‘Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be! Here hangs a broad sword by my side, And if that thou canst conquer me, The matter it may soon be tryed.’
3 ‘I neer was afraid of a traitor thief; Although thy name be Hughie the Græme, I’ll make thee repent thee of thy deeds, If God but grant me life and time.’
4 ‘Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope, And deal your blows as hard as you can; It shall be tried, within an hour, Which of us two is the better man.’
5 But as they were dealing their blows so free, And both so bloody at the time, Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall, All for to take brave Hughie the Græme.
6 Then they hae grippit Hughie the Græme, And brought him up through Carlisle town; The lasses and lads stood on the walls, Crying, Hughie the Græme, thou’se neer gae down!
7 Then they hae chosen a jury of men, The best that were in Carlisle town, And twelve of them cried out at once, Hughie the Græme, thou must gae down!
8 Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume, As he sat by the judge’s knee: ‘Twenty white owsen, my gude lord, If you’ll grant Hughie the Græme to me.’
9 ‘O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume, Forsooth and sae it mauna be; For were there but three Græmes of the name, They suld be hanged a’ for me.’
10 ’Twas up and spake the gude Lady Hume, As she sat by the judge’s knee: ‘A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge, If you’ll grant Hughie the Græme to me.’
11 ‘O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume, Forsooth and so it mustna be; Were he but the one Græme of the name, He suld be hanged high for me.’
12 ‘If I be guilty,’ said Hughie the Græme, ‘Of me my friends shall hae small talk;’ And he has loupd fifteen feet and three, Though his hands they were tied behind his back.
13 He looked over his left shoulder, And for to see what he might see; There was he aware of his auld father, Came tearing his hair most piteouslie.
14 ‘O hald your tongue, my father,’ he says, ‘And see that ye dinna weep for me! For they may ravish me o my life, But they canna banish me fro heaven hie.
15 ‘Fare ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife! The last time we came ower the muir ’Twas thou bereft me of my life, And wi the bishop thou playd the whore.
16 ‘Here, Johnnie Armstrang, take thou my sword, That is made o the metal sae fine, And when thou comest to the English side Remember the death of Hughie the Græme.’
* * * * *
D
Roxburghe Ballads, III, 456; edited for the Ballad Society by J. W. Ebsworth, VI, 598.
1 Good Lord John is a hunting gone, Over the hills and dales so far, For to take Sir Hugh in the Grime, For stealing of the bishop’s mare. He derry derry down
2 Hugh in the Grime was taken then And carried to Carlisle town; The merry women came out amain, Saying, The name of Grime shall never go down!
3 O then a jury of women was brought, Of the best that could be found; Eleven of them spoke all at once, Saying, The name of Grime shall never go down!
4 And then a jury of men was brought, More the pity for to be! Eleven of them spoke all at once, Saying, Hugh in the Grime, you are guilty.
5 Hugh in the Grime was cast to be hangd, Many of his friends did for him lack; For fifteen foot in the prisin he did jump, With his hands tyed fast behind his back.
6 Then bespoke our good Lady Ward, As she set on the bench so high: ‘A peck of white pennys I’ll give to my lord, If he’ll grant Hugh Grime to me.
7 ‘And if it be not full enough, I’ll stroke it up with my silver fan; And if it be not full enough, I’ll heap it up with my own hand.’
8 ‘Hold your tongue now, Lady Ward, And of your talkitive let it be! There is never a Grime came in this court That at thy bidding shall saved be.’
9 Then bespoke our good Lady Moor, As she sat on the bench so high: ‘A yoke of fat oxen I’ll give to my lord, If he’ll grant Hugh Grime to me.’
10 ‘Hold your tongue now, good Lady Moor, And of your talkitive let it be! There is never a Grime came to this court That at thy bidding shall saved be.’
11 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out of the door, With his hand out of the bar; There he spy’d his father dear, Tearing of his golden hair.
12 ‘Hold your tongue, good father dear, And of your weeping let it be! For if they bereave me of my life, They cannot bereave me of the heavens so high.’
13 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out at the door, Oh, what a sorry heart had he! There [he] spy’d his mother dear, Weeping and wailing ‘Oh, woe is me!’
14 ‘Hold your tongue now, mother dear, And of your weeping let it be! For if they bereave me of my life, They cannot bereave me of heaven’s fee.
15 ‘I’ll leave my sword to Johnny Armstrong That is made of mettal so fine, That when he comes to the border-side He may think of Hugh in the Grime.’
* * * * *
E
Buchan’s MSS, I, 53.
1 Lord Home he is a hunting gane, Through the woods and valleys clear, And he has taen Sir Hugh the Græme, For stealing o the bishop’s mare.
2 They hae taen Sir Hugh the Græme, Led him down thro Strieveling town; Fifeteen o them cried a’ at ance, ‘Sir Hugh the Græme he must go down!’
3 They hae causd a court to sit, Mang a’ their best nobilitie; Fifeteen o them cried a’ at ance, ‘Sir Hugh the Græme he now must die!’
4 Out it speaks the lady Black, And o her will she was right free: ‘A thousand pounds, my lord, I’ll gie, If Hugh the Græme set free to me.’
5 ‘Hold your tongue, ye Lady Black, And ye’ll let a’ your pleadings be! Though ye woud gie me thousands ten, It’s for my honour he must die.’
6 Then out it speaks her Lady Bruce, And o her will she was right free: ‘A hundred steeds, my lord, I’ll gie, If ye’ll gie Hugh the Græme to me.’
7 ‘O hold your tongue, ye Lady Bruce, And ye’ll let a’ your pleadings be! Though a’ the Græmes were in this court, It’s for my honour he must die.’
8 He looked over his shoulder, It was to see what he coud see, And there he saw his auld father, Weeping and wailing bitterlie.
9 ‘O hold your tongue, my old father, And ye’ll let a’ your mourning be! Though they bereave me o my life, They canno had the heavens frae me.
10 ‘Ye’ll gie my brother John the sword That’s pointed wi the metal clear, And bid him come at eight o’clock, And see me pay the bishop’s mare.
11 ‘And, brother James, take here the sword That’s pointed wi the metal brown; Come up the morn at eight o’clock, And see your brother putten down.
12 ‘And, brother Allan, take this sword That’s pointed wi the metal fine; Come up the morn at eight o’clock, And see the death o Hugh the Græme.
13 ‘Ye’ll tell this news to Maggy my wife, Niest time ye gang to Strievling town, She is the cause I lose my life, She wi the bishop playd the loon.’
14 Again he ower his shoulder lookd, It was to see what he could see, And there he saw his little son, Was screaming by his nourice knee.
15 Then out it spake the little son, ‘Since ’tis the morn that he must die, If that I live to be a man, My father’s death revengd shall be.’
16 ‘If I must die,’ Sir Hugh replied, ‘My friends o me they will think lack;’ He leapd a wa eighteen feet high, Wi his hands bound behind his back.
17 Lord Home then raised ten armed men, And after him they did pursue; But he has trudged ower the plain As fast as ony bird that flew.
18 He looked ower his left shoulder, It was to see what he coud see; His brother John was at his back, And a’ the rest o his brothers three.
19 Some they wound, and some they slew, They fought sae fierce and valiantly; They made his enemies for to yield, And sent Sir Hugh out ower the sea.
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F
Macmath MS., p. 79. “Received by me 20th August and 7th September, 1887, from my aunt, Miss Jane Webster, who derived it from her mother, Janet Spark, Kirkcudbrightshire.”
1 ‘Ye may tell to my wife Maggie, When that she comes to the fair, She was the cause of all my ruin, It was her that stole the bishop’s mare.
2 ‘Ye may tell to my wife Maggie, When that she comes to the town, She was the cause of all my ruin, It was her that stole the bishop’s gown.’
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G
Harris MS., fol. 27 b.
Dukes an lords a huntin gane, Over hills an vallies clear; There the’ve bound him Hughie Grame, For stealin o the bishop’s mare.
* * * * *
#A. a.#
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, in West-smith-field, neer the Hospital-gate.
12^2. Garland.
13^1. another.
22^3. the causer of my life.
#b.#
To a pleasant new northern tune.
Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden-Ball, in Westsmithfield.
3^3. Lords.
9^3. Then cry’d _wanting_.
9^4. never.
10^4. of the.
12^2. Garlard.
13^1. other.
21^3. ware.
22^3. the causer of my life.
22^4. plays.
23^3. borders.
#c.#
Printed for P. Brooksby [_torn off_] West-smith-field.
2^4. he _wanting_.
5^3. of thy.
9^3. Then cry’d _wanting_.
10^4. of the.
11^3. thy fact.
12^2. Garlard.
13^1. other.
21^3. ware.
22^3. the causer of my life.
22^4. plays.
23^3. borders.
#d.#
2^2. the same serime.
8^1. again.
8^2. compast.
9^{2,3}, 12^2. Garland.
9^3. Then cry’d.
10^1. the _wanting_.
11^4. it _wanting_.
13^1. other.
14^3. will I.
17^4. they _wanting_.
22^3. cause of the loss.
#e.#
_No imprint._
2^2. rid _wanting_: the same.
2^3. he could.
5^2. my _for_ thy.
7^1. as _wanting_.
8^2. compast.
9^{2,3}. Garland.
9^3. Then cry’d.
10^1. to town.
10^4. calld to.
11^2. for to.
13^1. other.
14^3. will I.
18^4. With his.
19^4. come.
22^3. of the loss of.
#B.#
8^4. blin’ _in Johnson’s Museum_: blink _in Cromek_.
#D.#
Sir Hugh in the Grime’s Downfall, or, A New Song made on Sir Hugh in the Grime, who was hangd for stealing the Bishop’s Mare. London: Printed and sold by L. How. (About 1770?)
5^2. did leet: _cf._ #A# 18^2.
10^4. biding.
14^1. tonge.
192
THE LOCHMABEN HARPER
#A. a.# ‘The Blind Harper of Lochmaben,’ Glenriddell MSS, XI, 42, 1791. #b.# ‘The Blind Harper,’ Johnson’s Museum, No 579, 1803. #c.# ‘The Lochmaben Harper,’ Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1802, I, 65; 1833, I, 422.
#B.# ‘Lochmaben Harper,’ Glenriddell MSS, XI, 39.
#C.# ‘The Auld Harper,’ The Edinburgh Topographical, Traditional, and Antiquarian Magazine, 1849, p. 58.
#D.# Macmath MS, p. 35.
#E.# ‘The Jolly Harper,’ Buchan’s MSS, I, 35; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, Percy Society, vol. xvii, p. 37.
The Stationers’ Registers, 22 July, 1564–22 July, 1565, Arber, I, 260, have an entry of a fee from Owyn Rogers for license to print “a ballett intituled The Blende Harper, etc.”; and again, the following year, Arber, I, 294, of a fee from Lucas Haryson for license to print “a ballet intituled The Blynde Harpers, with the Answere.” Nothing further is known of this ballet.
Boyd, the translator of Dante, had a recollection of a ballad of a Scotch minstrel who stole a horse from one of the Henries of England: Ritson, Scotish Song, I, xxxvi, note 25, 1794.
Printed in Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802 (#A c#), and the next year in the Musical Museum (#A b#), as communicated by Burns. Burns’s copy differs very slightly from #A a#, however he came by it. Scott had access to the Glenriddell collection, and his ballad (of which he gives no account) was made by changing #A a# to his taste, substituting one stanza of his own in place of 18, and the last two of #B#, with alterations, for the last of #A a#. To reduce improbabilities, Scott put the Lord Warden for King Henry.
#C# was pointed out to me, and transcribed from the short-lived periodical in which it was printed, by Mr James Barclay Murdoch, to whom I have been from the beginning indebted for the most essential help.
Of #D# Mr Macmath writes: This version was copied by me in fac-simile from the original manuscript in the handwriting of the late Rev. George Murray, of Troquhain, minister of Balmaclellan, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, and was in possession of his son, the Rev. George Murray, to whose kindness I was indebted for the loan of it. The late Mr Murray took down the ballad from the singing of Sarah Rae, a poor weak-minded woman of his parish. Sarah Rae was the last person known to Mr Murray—and he was a keen observer of such matters—to use the distaff. The present Mr George Murray wrote to me on 12th January, 1883: “I may add that I have heard her sing the ballad myself, to a very simple but particularly plaintive lilt—more like a rapid chant than an ordinary song—which rings in my ear yet, although I only heard it once, when a lad.”[8]
#A-C.# A harper of Lochmaben (blind, #A#, #B#) who means to steal the Wanton Brown, a horse of King Henry’s, consults with his wife before setting about the business, and gets a few valuable hints; among them, to leave his mare’s foal at home. He goes up to England, and has the good luck, so common in ballads, of finding King Henry at his gate. The king wants to hear some of his harping, and, as the harper makes a difficulty about the stabling of his mare, orders the beast to be put into his own stable. The harper harps all his hearers asleep; then makes his way softly to the stable, slips a halter over the Wanton’s nose and ties him to the mare’s tail, and turns the mare out. She goes straight to Lochmaben, to her foal, neighs at the harper’s house, and is let in by the servant-lass, who exclaims at the braw foal that the mare has got. In the morning they find in England that both the Wanton Brown and the mare have been stolen. The harper breaks out into ‘allaces:’ he has lost a foal in Scotland and had his mare stolen in England! The king quiets him with a promise of a better mare and pay for his foal to boot.
In #D#, #E#, the harper steals the horse on a wager, which, however, is passed over lightly in #D#. The wager in #E# is with two knights of Stirling, five ploughs of land with one and five thousand pounds with the other, and “John” has to go all the way to London to win it. The knights pay their loss and then restore the Wanton Brown to Henry!—so great an improvement upon the dealings of the Scots with English horseflesh as to compel one to assign this particular version of the story to the nineteenth, if not the twentieth, century.[9]
The twelve armed men in armor bright that guard the stable night and day in #E# 23 remind us of popular tales; as of the Grimms’ ‘Master Thief.’
#A b# is loosely translated by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 16, p. 58.
* * * * *
A
#a.# Glenriddell MS. XI, 42, 1791; “from a MS. collection of Mr Henderson.” #b.# Johnson’s Museum, No 579, VI, 598, 1803, communicated by Burns, #c.# Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 65.
1 Heard ye eer of the silly blind harper, That long livd in Lochmaben town, How he wad gang to fair England, To steal King Henry’s Wanton Brown? Sing, Faden dilly and faden dilly Sing, Faden dilly and deedle dan
2 But first he gaed to his gude wife, Wi a’ the speed that he coud thole; ‘This wark,’ quo he, ‘will never work Without a mare that has a foal.’
3 Quo she, Thou has a gude gray mare, That’al rin oer hills baith law and hie; Gae tak the gray mare in thy hand, And leave the foal at hame wi me.
4 ‘And tak a halter in thy hose, And o thy purpose dinna fail; But wap it oer the Wanton’s nose, And tie her to the gray mare’s tail.
5 ‘Syne ca her out at yon back geate, Oer moss and muir and ilka dale; For she’ll neer let the Wanton bite Till she come hame to her ain foal.’
6 So he is up to England gane, Even as fast as he can hie, Till he came to King Henry’s geate; And wha was there but King Henry?
7 ‘Come in,’ quo he, ‘thou silly blind harper, And of thy harping let me hear;’ ‘O, by my sooth,’ quo the silly blind harper, ‘I’d rather hae stabling for my mare.’
8 The king he looks oer his left shoulder, And says unto his stable-groom, Gae tak the silly poor harper’s mare, And tie her side my Wanton Brown.
9 And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, Till a’ the lords had fitted the floor; They thought the music was sae sweet, And they forgot the stable-door.
10 And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, Till a’ the nobles were sound asleep; Than quietly he took aff his shoon, And safly down the stair did creep.
11 Syne to the stable-door he hies, Wi tread as light as light coud be, And when he opned and gaed in, There he fand thirty gude steads and three.
12 He took the halter frae his hose, And of his purpose did na fail; He slipt it oer the Wanton’s nose, And tied it to his gray mare’s tail.
13 He ca’d her out at yon back geate, Oer moss and muir and ilka dale, And she loot neer the Wanton bite, But held her still gaun at her tail.
14 The gray mare was right swift o fit, And did na fail to find the way, For she was at Lochmaben geate Fu lang three hours ere ’twas day.
15 When she came to the harper’s door, There she gave mony a nicher and sneer; ‘Rise,’ quo the wife, ‘thou lazey lass, Let in thy master and his mare.’
16 Then up she rose, pat on her claes, And lookit out through the lock-hole; ‘O, by my sooth,’ then quoth the lass, ‘Our mare has gotten a braw big foal!’
17 ‘Come had thy peace, thou foolish lass, The moon’s but glancing in thy eye; I’ll wad my hail fee against a groat, It’s bigger than eer our foal will be.’
18 The neighbours too that heard the noise Cried to the wife to put hir in; ‘By my sooth,’ then quo the wife, ‘She’s better than ever he rade on.’
19 But on the morn, at fair day light, When they had ended a’ thier chear, King Henry’s Wanton Brown was stawn, And eke the poor old harper’s mare.
20 ‘Allace! allace!’ says the silly blind harper, ‘Allace, allace, that I came here! In Scotland I’ve tint a braw cowte-foal, In England they’ve stawn my gude gray mare.’
21 ‘Come had thy tongue, thou silly blind harper, And of thy allacing let me be; For thou shalt get a better mare, And weel paid shall thy cowte-foal be.’
* * * * *
B
Glenriddell MSS, XI, 39, 1791; “from Dr Clapperton, of Lochmaben.”
1 Hard ye tell of the silly blind harper? Long he lived in Lochmaben town; He’s away to fair Carlisle, To steal King Henry’s Wanton Brown. Sing, Fadle didle dodle didle Sing, Fadle didle fadle doo
2 He has mounted his auld gray mare, And ridden oer both hills and mire, Till he came to fair Carlisle town, And askd for stabling to his mare.
3 ‘Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper, ‘Some of thy harping let us hear;’ ‘By my sooth,’ says the silly blind harper, ‘I would rather hae stabling to my mare.’
4 The king looked oer his left shoulder And called to his stable-groom: ‘Gae stable up the harper’s mare, And just beyond the Wanton Brown.’
5 Ay he carped, and ay he harped, Till a’ the lords gaed thro the floor; But and the musick was sae sweet The groom forgot the key o the stable-door.
6 Ay he harped, and ay he carped, Till a’ the lords fell fast asleep, And, like a fause deceiver as he was, He quickly down the stair did creep.
7 He pulld a colt-halter out o his hoe, On purpose as I shall to you tell; He sliped it oer the Wanton’s nose, And tyed it to his gray mare’s tail.
8 ‘My blessing light upon my wife! I think she be a daily flower; She told me to ken my ain gray mare When eer I felt her by the ewer.’
9 ‘Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper, Some of thy harping let us hear:’ ‘Oh and alas!’ says the silly blind harper, ‘Oh and alas that eer I came here!
10 ‘For in Scotland I lost a good brown foal, And in England a good gray mare, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
11 ‘Harp on, harp on, thou silly blind harper, Some of thy harping let us hear, And thy brown foal shall be well payed, And thou’s hae a far better gray mare.’
12 Ay he harped, and ay he carped, And some of his harping he let them hear, And his brown foal it was well payed, And he got a better gray mare.
13 His mare’s away to Lochmaben, Wi mony a nicker and mony a sneer; His wife cry’d, Rise up, you lazy lass, Let in your master and his mare.