Part 4

14 The lazy lass was loth to rise; She looked through a little hole; ‘By my troth,’ crys the lazy lass, ‘Our mare has brought a bonie foal.’

15 ‘Rise up, rise up, thou lazy lass, And, een as the sun it shines sae clear, I’ll wager my life against a groat The foal was better than ever the mare.’

* * * * *

C

The Edinburgh Topographical, Traditional, and Antiquarian Magazine, 1849, p. 58; communicated by W. G. “from the recitation of a friend, who learned it many years ago from her grandfather,” a farmer in Wigtonshire, who died in 1813, at the age of ninety-four.

1 It’s hae ye heard tell o the auld harper That lang lived in Lochmaben town, How he maun awa to England fair, To steal King Henry’s Wanton Brown? Faw aiden diden an diden an diden Faw aiden diden faw aiden dee

2 Out then bespak his gude auld wife, I wat she spak out very wiselie; ‘Ye’ll ride the mear to England fair, But the foal ye’ll leave at hame wi me.

3 ‘Ye’ll hide your halter in o your hose, And o your purpose ye’ll no fail; Ye’ll cast a hook on the Wanton’s nose, And tie him to the gray mear’s tail.

4 ‘Ye’ll lead them awa by a back yett, And hound them out at a wee hole; The mear she’ll neer [let] the Wanton bait Till hame at Lochmaben town wi her foal.’

5 Awa then rade the auld harper, I wat he rade right merrilie, Until he cam to England fair, Where wonned the gude King Henerie.

6 ‘Light down, light down, ye auld harper, And some o your harping let me hear; ‘O williwa!’ quo the auld harper, Will I get stabling for my mear?’

* * * * * *

7 And aye he harped and he carped, Till a’ the lordlings fell asleep; Syne bundled his fiddles upon his back, And down the stairs fu fast did creep.

8 He’s taen the halter out o his hose, And o his purpose he didna fail; He’s cast a hook on the Wanton’s nose, And tied him to the gray mear’s tale.

9 He’s led them awa by the back yett, And hounded them out at a wee hole; The mear she neer let the Wanton bait Till hame at Lochmaben town wi her foal.

10 And when they cam to the house-end, Wi mony a nicker but an a neigh, They waukend the auld wife out o her sleep; She was a-dreaming she was fouie.

11 ‘Rise up, rise up, my servant-lass, Let in your master and his mear;’ ‘It’s by my sooth,’ the wee lassie goud say, ‘I’m in a sleeping drowsy air.’

12 Wi mony a gaunt she turned her round, And keekit through at a wee hole; ‘It’s by my sooth!’ the wee lassie goud say, ‘Our mear has gotten a braw brown foal!’

13 ‘Lie still, lie still, ye lazy lass, It’s but the moon shines in your ee;’ ‘Na, by my sooth,’ the lassie goud say, ‘And he’s bigger than ony o his degree.’

14 Then lightly rose the gude auld wife, I wat the first up in a’ the town; She took the grit oats intil her lap And fodderd King Henry’s Wanton Brown.

15 King Henry’s groom rase in the morn, And he was of a sorry cheer: ‘King Henry’s Wanton Brown’s awa, And sae is the silly auld harper’s mear!’

16 Up then rase the auld harper, And loudly he did curse and swear: ‘In Scotland they but steald my foal, In England ye hae steald my mear!’

17 ‘It’s haud your tongue,’ King Henry did say, ‘Ye’ll hae nae cause to curse or swear; Here’s thirty guineas for your foal, And three times thirty for your mear.’

* * * * *

D

Taken down by the Rev George Murray from the singing of Sarah Rae, a weak-minded woman of Balmaclellan, Kirkcudbright, 1866. Communicated by Mr Macmath.

1 There was a poor silly harper-man, And he lived in Lochmaben toon, And he has wagered wi lairds and lords, And mony a guinea ag_ains_t a croon. Tum tid iddly Dodaly diddely Tidaly diddaly Dodaly dan

2 And he has wagered wi lairds and lords, And mony a guinea ag_ains_t a croon, That into England he w_oul_d go, And steal King Henerie’s Wanton Broun.

3 Out spak the silly poor harper’s wife, And O but she spak wililie: ‘If into England you do go, Leave the wee-wee foal wi me.’

4 The harper he got on to ride, And O but he rode richt highlie! The very first man that he did meet, They said it was King Henerie.

5 ‘Licht doon, licht doon, ye silly poor harper, And o _you_r harping let me hear;’ ‘And by my sooth,’ quoth the silly poor harper, ‘I’d rather hae stabling for my mear.’

6 O he lookit ower his left shoulder, And saw ane of the stable-grooms: ‘Go take the sillie poor harper’s mear, And stable her by my Wanton Brown.’

7 And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit, Till a’ the nobles fell on the floor, And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit, Till they forgot the key of the stable-door.

8 And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit, Till a’ the nobles fell fast asleep; He has taen his harp upon his back, And doon the stair did softly creep.

9 He has taen a halter frae his hose, And o his purpose did not fail; He coost a wap on Wanton’s nose, And tyed her to his ain mear’s tail.

10 He ca’d her through at the bye-yett, Through mony a syre and mony a hole; She never loot Wanton licht till she Was at Lochmaben, at her foal.

11 And she came oer Lochmaben heights, Wi mony a nicker and mony a sneeze, And waukend the silly poor harper’s wife, As she was a sleeping at her ease.

12 ‘Rise up, rise up, ye servant-lass, Let in the maister and the mear;’ ‘By my sooth,’ quoth the servant-lass, ‘I think my maister be na here.’

13 Up then rose the servant-lass, And lookit through a wee, wee hole; ‘By my sooth,’ quoth the servant-lass, ‘Our mear has gotten a waly foal.’

14 ‘Ye clatter, ye clatter, ye servant-lass, It is the moon shines in your ee;’ ‘By my sooth,’ quoth the servant-lass, ‘It’s mair than ever her ain will be.’

16 It’s whan the stable-groom awoke, Put a’ the nobles in a fear; King Henerie’s Wanton Brown was stown, And Oh! the silly poor harper’s mear.

16 Out then spak the silly poor harper, Says, Oh, this loss I douna thole! In England fair a guid grey mear, In fair Scotland a guid cout-foal.

17 ‘Haud your tongue, ye sillie poor harper, And wi your carping let me be; Here’s ten pounds for your auld gray mear, And a weel paid foal it’s be to thee!’

18 And O the silly poor harper’s wife, She’s aye first up in Lochmaben toun; She’s stealing the corn and stealing the hay, And wappin it oer to Wanton Broun.

* * * * *

E

Buchan’s MSS, I, 35; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 37, Percy Society, vol. xvii.

1 There was a jolly harper-man, That harped aye frae toun to toun; A wager he made, with two knights he laid To steal King Henry’s Wanton Brown.

2 Sir Roger he wagered five ploughs o land, Sir Charles wagered five thousand pound, And John he’s taen the deed in hand, To steal King Henry’s Wanton Brown.

3 He’s taen his harp into his hand, And he gaed harping thro the toun, And as the king in his palace sat, His ear was touched wi the soun.

4 ‘Come in, come in, ye harper-man, Some o your harping let me hear;’ ‘Indeed, my liege, and by your grace, I’d rather hae stabling to my mare.’

5 ‘Ye’ll gang to yon outer court, That stands a little below the toun; Ye’ll find a stable snug and neat, Where stands my stately Wanton Brown.

6 He’s down him to the outer court, That stood a little below the toun; There found a stable snug and neat, For stately stood the Wanton Brown.

7 Then he has fixd a good strong cord Unto his grey mare’s bridle-rein, And tied it unto that steed’s tail, Syne shut the stable-door behin.

8 Then he harped on, an he carped on, Till all were fast asleep; Then down thro bower and ha he’s gone, Even on his hands and feet.

9 He’s to yon stable snug and neat, That lay a little below the toun; For there he placed his ain grey mare, Alang wi Henry’s Wanton Brown.

10 ‘Ye’ll do you down thro mire an moss, Thro mony bog an lairy hole; But never miss your Wanton slack; Ye’ll gang to Mayblane, to your foal.’

11 As soon’s the door he had unshut, The mare gaed prancing frae the town, An at her bridle-rein was tied Henry’s stately Wanton Brown.

12 Then she did rin thro mire an moss, Thro mony bog an miery hole; But never missed her Wanton slack Till she reachd Mayblane, to her foal.

13 When the king awaked from sleep He to the harper-man did say, O waken ye, waken ye, jolly John, We’ve fairly slept till it is day.

14 ‘Win up, win up, ye harper-man, Some mair o harping ye’ll gie me:’ He said, My liege, wi a’ my heart, But first my gude grey mare maun see.

15 Then forth he ran, and in he came, Dropping mony a feigned tear: ‘Some rogue[s] hae broke the outer court, An stown awa my gude grey mare.’

16 ‘Then by my sooth,’ the king replied, ‘If there’s been rogues into the toun, I fear, as well as your grey mare, Awa is my stately Wanton Brown.’

17 ‘My loss is great,’ the harper said, ‘My loss is twice as great, I fear; In Scotland I lost a gude grey steed, An here I’ve lost a gude grey mare.’

18 ‘Come on, come on, ye harper-man, Some o your music lat me hear; Well paid ye’se be, John, for the same, An likewise for your gude grey mare.’

19 When that John his money received, Then he went harping frae the toun, But little did King Henry ken He’d stown awa his Wanton Brown.

20 The knights then lay ower castle-wa, An they beheld baith dale an down, An saw the jolly harper-man Come harping on to Striveling toun.

21 Then, ‘By my sooth,’ Sir Roger said, ‘Are ye returned back to toun? I doubt my lad ye hae ill sped Of stealing o the Wanton Brown.’

22 ‘I hae been into fair England, An even into Lunan toun, An in King Henry’s outer court, An stown awa the Wanton Brown.’

23 ‘Ye lie, ye lie,’ Sir Charles he said, ‘An aye sae loud’s I hear ye lie; Twall armed men, in armour bright, They guard the stable night and day.’

24 ‘But I did harp them all asleep, An managed my business cunninglie; If ye make light o what I say, Come to my stable an ye’ll see.

25 ‘My music pleasd the king sae well Mair o my harping he wishd to hear; An for the same he paid me well, And also for my gude grey mare.’

26 Then he drew out a gude lang purse, Well stored wi gowd an white monie, An in a short time after this The Wanton Brown he lat them see.

27 Sir Roger produced his ploughs o land, Sir Charles produced his thousand pounds, Then back to Henry, the English king, Restored the stately Wanton Brown.

* * * * *

#A. a.#

“I have here given another copy of this Border Ballad, which I took from a MS. collection of Mr Henderson. It varies a little from the former [#A#], which I had from Dr Clapperton of Lochmaben.”

4^4, 13^4, 18^4. _The Wanton Brown is a mare: so #b#, and #D#, 9^4. But the Brown is a stallion in #C#, 3^4, 8^4, 13^4, and is so made to be in #A c#, 13^4, 17^3: rightly, I should suppose._

8^2. say.

12^4. _to wanting_.

#b.#

_The third and fourth lines are repeated as burden._

1^1. O heard ye of a silly harper.

1^2. Livd long.

1^3. he did.

8^1. he _wanting_.

9^2. lords gaed through.

9^4. That they forgat.

14^4. ere it.

15^2. gae.

16^1. raise.

17^1. then (_misprint_) _for_ those.

17^3. gainst.

21^3. shall.

#c.#

_No burden._

1^1. O heard ye na o.

1^2. How lang he lived.

1^3. And how.

1^4. steal the Lord Warden’s.

2^2. the haste.

2^3. will neer gae weel.

3^1. hast.

3^2. That can baith lance oer laigh.

3^3. Sae set thee on the gray mare’s back.

4, 5, _wanting._

6^2. And even: he may drie.

6^3. And when he cam to Carlisle gate.

6^4. O whae: but the Warden, he.

7^1. into my hall, thou.

7^4. I wad.

8^1. The Warden lookd ower.

8^2. said.

8^3. silly blind. 8^4. beside.

9^1. Then aye.

9^2. the lordlings footed.

9^3. But an the.

9^4. The groom had nae mind o.

10^2. were fast.

11^1 hied.

11^4. gude _wanting_.

12^1. took a cowt halter.

12^2. he did.

13^1. He turned them loose at the castle gate.

13^2. muir and moss.

13^3. neer let: bait.

13^4. But kept him a-galloping hame to her foal.

14^1. The mare she was: foot.

14^2. She didna.

14^4. A lang: before the day.

15^3. Rise up.

16^1. cloathes.

16^2. keekit through at the.

16^3. then cried.

16^4. braw brown.

17^1. haud thy tongue, thou silly wench.

17^2. morn’s: in your ee.

17^3. He’s.

18. Now all this while, in merry Carlisle, The harper harped to hie and law, And the fiend thing dought they do but listen him to, Untill that the day began to daw.

19^3. Behold the Wanton Brown was gane.

19^4. poor blind.

20^1. quo the cunning auld.

20^2. And ever allace.

20^3. I lost a.

21, 22, _alteration of_ #B# 11, 12:

Come cease thy allacing, thou silly blind harper, And again of thy harping let us hear; And weel payd sall thy cowt-foal be, And thou sall have a far better mare.

Then aye he harped, and aye he carped, Sae sweet were the harpings he let them hear! He was paid for the foal he had never lost, And three times ower for the gude gray mare.

#B.#

1^2. in a Bell town: _see_ 13^1.

5. _The burden is here_: Sing, Fadle fidle, etc.

#C.#

“The following is an oral version of a ballad which appears in the first volume of the ‘Minstrelsy.’ I have written it down from the recitation of a friend who learned it many years ago from her grandfather, a Mr John Macreddie, farmer, Little Laight parish of Inch, Wigtonshire. He died in 1813, at the age of ninety-four, and is supposed to have acquired the song from tradition in his youth. On comparison, it will be found to differ in several respects from Sir Walter’s version. 11 Hill Street, Anderston, Glasgow. W. G.”

#D.#

3^2, 4^2, 6^1, 18^1, oh. 10^1, at, 16^1, then, _added by Mr Murray in pencil above the line, as if on reading over what he had written down_.

18^4. _Dr Mitchell gives_: An waps. “ The ower-word,” _he adds_, “was something like the following:”

Hey tum tidly Doodlem didly Hey tum tidly Doodley dan.

#E.#

2^2. _The reading is perhaps_ pounds.

7^{2,3}. _Absurdity could be avoided by exchanging_ grey mare _and_ steed.

24^2. by _for_ my.

193

THE DEATH OF PARCY REED

#A.# ‘A song of Parcy Reed and the Three False Halls,’ the late Robert White’s papers.

#B.# ‘The Death of Parcy Reed,’ Richardson’s Borderer’s Table Book, 1846, VII, 361; J. H. Dixon, Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England, p. 99, Percy Society, vol. xvii, 1846.

Of #B#, which purports to have been taken down from an old woman’s singing by James Telfer, Mr Robert White, from whom I received #A#, said in a letter to Mr J. H. Dixon: “Parcy Reed, as you suspect, is not genuine, for it bears marks of our friend’s improvements. I have a copy of the original somewhere, but may not be able to find it.” And again, Telfer himself, “in a letter to the late Robert Storey, the Northumbrian poet,” wrote, “I will send Mr Dixon the real verses, but it is but a droll of a ballad.” (J. H. Dixon, in Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, I, 108, V, 520.)

Comparison will show that almost the whole of #A# is preserved in #B#, and in fairly good form. #B# has also some stanzas not found in #A# which may be accepted as traditional. Telfer may have added a dozen of his own, and has retouched others.

Mr White, after remarking that there is no historical evidence to show when the event on which the ballad was founded occurred, informs us that almost every circumstance in the narrative has been transmitted to the present century by local tradition.

“Percival, or Parcy, Reed,” in the words of Mr White, “was proprietor of Troughend, an elevated tract of land lying on the west side and nearly in the centre of Redesdale, Northumberland. The remains of the old tower may still be seen, a little to the west of the present mansion, commanding a beautiful and most extensive view of nearly the whole valley. Here he resided, and being a keen hunter and brave soldier, he possessed much influence, and was appointed warden or keeper of the district. His office was to suppress and order the apprehension of thieves and other breakers of the law; in the execution of which he incurred the displeasure of a family of brothers of the name of Hall, who were owners of Girsonsfield, a farm about two miles east from Troughend. He also drew upon himself the hostility of a band of moss-troopers, Crosier by name, some of whom he had been successful in bringing to justice. The former were, however, artful enough to conceal their resentment, and under the appearance of friendship calmly awaited an opportunity to be avenged. Some time afterwards, they solicited his attendance on a hunting expedition to the head of Redesdale, and unfortunately he agreed to accompany them. His wife had some strange dreams anent his safety on the night before his departure, and at breakfast, on the following morning, the loaf of bread from which he was supplied chanced to be turned with the bottom upwards, an omen which is still accounted most unfavorable all over the north of England. Considering these presages undeserving of notice, Reed set out in company with the Halls, and, after enjoying a good day’s sport, the party withdrew to a solitary hut in Batinghope, a lonely glen stretching westward from the Whitelee, whose little stream forms one of the chief sources of Reedwater. The whole of this arrangement had been previously planned by the Halls and Crosiers, and when the latter came down, late in the evening, to execute their purpose of vengeance, they found Parcy Reed altogether a defenceless man. His companions not only deserted him, but had previously driven his sword so firmly in its scabbard that it could not be drawn, and had also moistened the powder with which the very long gun he carried with him was charged, so as to render both useless when he came to rely upon them for protection. Accordingly the Crosiers instantly put him to death; and so far did they carry out their sanguinary measures, even against his lifeless body, that tradition says the fragments thereof had to be collected together and conveyed in pillow-slips home to Troughend. Public indignation was speedily aroused against the murderers; the very name of Crosier was abhorred throughout Redesdale, and the abettors were both driven from their residence and designated as the fause-hearted Ha’s, an appellation which yet remains in force against them.” (Richardson’s Borderer’s Table Book, VII, 361.)

The farm of Girsonsfield, according to the ballad, #A# 3, 18, belonged to the Halls. But that place has been the property of others, says Mr White, “ever since the reign of Elizabeth;” whence he concludes that the story is not to be dated later than the sixteenth century.

Parcy Reed is famed to have had a favorite dog named Keeldar, and, though a “peerless archer,” to have killed him by an unlucky shot while hunting. Sir Walter Scott has celebrated this mishap and its consequence in ‘The Death of Keeldar’ (Table Book, as above, p. 240); and he alludes to the treacherous murder of Reed (with which he became acquainted through Robert Roxby’s ‘Lay of the Reedwater Minstrel,’ 1809) in Rokeby, written in 1812, Canto I, xx.

* * * * *

A

The late Robert White’s papers; “Woodburn, December 1, 1829, Thomas Hedley, Bridge End, Corsonside Parish.”

1 The Liddesdale Crosiers hae ridden a race, And they had far better staid at hame, For they have lost a gallant gay, Young Whinton Crosier it was his name.

2 For Parcy Reed he has him taen, And he’s delivered him to law, But auld Crosier has made answer That he’ll gar the house of the Troughend fa.

3 So as it happened on a day That Parcy Reed is a hunting gane, And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield They all along with him are gane.

4 They hunted up and they hunted down, They hunted all Reedwater round, Till weariness has on him seized; At the Batinghope he’s fallen asleep.

5 O some they stole his powder-horn, And some put water in his lang gun: ‘O waken, waken, Parcy Reed! For we do doubt thou sleeps too sound.

6 ‘O waken, O waken, Parcy Reed! For we do doubt thou sleeps too long; For yonder’s the five Crosiers coming, They’re coming by the Hingin Stane.

7 ‘If they be five men, we are four, If ye will all stand true to me; Now every one of you may take one, And two of them ye may leave to me.’

8 ‘We will not stay, nor we dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both us and thee.’

9 ‘O stay, O stay, O Tommy Hall, O stay, O man, and fight with me! If we see the Troughend again, My good black mare I will give thee.’

10 ‘I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, to fight for thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.’

11 ‘O stay, O stay, O Johnnie Hall, O stay, O man, and fight for me! If I see the Troughend again, Five yoke of oxen I will give thee.’

12 ‘I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.’

13 ‘O stay, O stay, O Willie Hall, O stay, O man, and fight for me! If we see the Troughend again, The half of my land I will give thee.’

14 ‘I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.’

15 ‘Now foul fa ye, ye traitors all, That ever ye should in England won! You have left me in a fair field standin, And in my hand an uncharged gun.

16 ‘O fare thee well, my wedded wife! O fare you well, my children five! And fare thee well, my daughter Jane, That I love best that’s born alive!

17 ‘O fare thee well, my brother Tom! And fare you well his children five! If you had been with me this day, I surely had been man alive.

18 ‘Farewell all friends! as for my foes, To distant lands may they be tane, And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield, They’ll never be trusted nor trowed again.’

* * * * *

B

Richardsons’ Borderers’ Table Book, VII, 361, 1846; “taken down by James Telfer, of Saughtree, Liddesdale, from the chanting of an old woman named Kitty Hall, a native of Northumberland.”

1 God send the land deliverance Frae every reaving, riding Scot; We’ll sune hae neither cow nor ewe, We’ll sune hae neither staig nor stot.

2 The outlaws come frae Liddesdale, They herry Redesdale far and near; The rich man’s gelding it maun gang, They canna pass the puir man’s mear.

3 Sure it were weel, had ilka thief Around his neck a halter strang; And curses heavy may they light On traitors vile oursels amang.

4 Now Parcy Reed has Crosier taen, He has delivered him to the law; But Crosier says he’ll do waur than that, He’ll make the tower o Troughend fa.

5 And Crosier says he will do waur, He will do waur if waur can be; He’ll make the bairns a’ fatherless, And then, the land it may lie lee.