Part 54

#B# has nearly the same story with additional circumstances. Patrick wishes that eleven devils may attend his last day should he wed another woman. When he goes to inquire how Isabel came to refuse the request he had made through his aunt, he takes the opportunity to make over to her child the third part of his land. She has two clerks, her cousins, at her call, who see to the legal formalities pertaining to this transfer; she commits the boy to one of these, and herself goes to an unco land to drive love out of her mind. We hear of nothing worse happening to Earl Patrick for selling his precious soul than his never getting further ben the church than the door.

#C# is a variety of #B#, but not half so long. Whether #B# has added or #C# omitted, no reader will much concern himself to know.

St. 7 (nearly) occurs in No 92, #B# 17, II, 313, and something similar in various ballads.

* * * * *

A

Kinloch MSS, I, 211; “obtained in the North Country, from the recitation of Mrs Charles.”

1 There is a stane in yon water, It’s lang or it grow green; It’s a maid that maks her ain fortune, It’ll never end its leen.

2 Burd Bell was na full fyfteen Till to service she did gae; Burd Bell was na full sixteen Till big wi bairn was scho.

* * * * * *

3 ‘Burd Bell she is a gude woman, She bides at hame wi me; She never seeks to gang to church, But bides at hame wi me.’

4 It fell ance upon a day She fell in travail-pain; He is gane to the stair-head Some ladies to call in.

5 ‘O gin ye hae a lass-bairn, Burd Bell, A lass-bairn though it be, Twenty ploughs bot and a mill Will mak ye lady free.

6 ‘But gin ye hae a son, Burd Bell, Ye’se be my wedded wife, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .’

7 The knichts they knack their white fingers, The ladies sat and sang, T was a’ to cheer bonnie Burd Bell, She was far sunk in pain.

* * * * * *

8 Earl Patrick is to his mither gane, As fast as he could hie: ‘An askin, an askin, dear mither, An askin I want frae thee.

9 ‘Burd Bell has born to me a son; What sail I do her wi?’ ‘Gie her what ye like, Patrick, Mak na her your ladie.’

10 He has gane to bonnie Burd Bell, Hir heart was pressd wi care: . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

11 ‘My father will dee, bonnie Burd Bell, My mither will do the same, And whan ye hear that they are gane It’s then I’ll bring ye hame.’

12 Earl Patrick’s bigget to her a hour, And strawn it round wi sand; He coverd it wi silver on the outside, Wi the red gowd within.

13 It happened ance upon a day She was kaiming his yellow hair, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

14 ‘Your father is dead, Earl Patrick, Your mither is the same; And what is the reason, Earl Patrick, Ye winna tak me hame?’

15 ‘I’ve bigget to you a bonnie bour, I’ve strawn it round wi sand; I’ve coverd it wi silver on the outside, Wi gude red gowd within.

16 ‘If eer I marry anither woman, Or bring anither hame, I wish a hundred evils may enter me, And may I fa oure the brim!’

17 It was na very lang after this That a duke’s dochter he’s wed, Wi a waggon fu of gowd . . . . . . .

18 Burd Bell lookit oure her castle-wa, And spied baith dale and down, And there she saw Earl Patrick’s aunt Come riding to the town.

19 ‘What want ye here, Earl Patrick’s aunt? What want ye here wi me?’ ‘I want Earl Patrick’s bonnie young son; His bride fain wad him see.’

20 ‘I wad like to see that woman or man, Of high or low degree, That wad tak the bairn frae my foot That I ance for bowd my knee.’

* * * * * *

21 ‘Burd Bell, she’s the bauldest woman That ever I did see:’ ‘It’s I’ll gang to bonnie Burd Bell, She was never bauld to me.’

22 Burd Bell lookit oure her castle-wa, Behauding brave dale and down, And there she spied him Earl Patrick Slowly riding to the town.

23 ‘What said ye to my great-grand-aunt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .’

24 ‘I said nathing to your great-grand-aunt But I will say to thee: I wad like to see the woman or man, Of high or low degree, That wad tak the bairn frae my foot I ance for bowd my knee.

25 ‘O dinna ye mind, Earl Patrick, The vows ye made to me, That a hundred evils wad enter you If ye provd fause to me?’

26 He’s turnd him richt and round about, His horse head to the wind, The hundred evils enterd him, And he fell oure the brim.

* * * * *

B

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 76.

1 Take warning, a’ ye young women, Of low station or hie, Lay never your love upon a man Above your ain degree.

2 Thus I speak by Burd Isbel; She was a maid sae fair, She laid her love on Sir Patrick, She’ll rue it for evermair.

3 And likewise, a’ ye sprightly youths, Of low station or hie, Lay never your love upon a maid Below your ain degree.

4 And thus I speak by Sir Patrick, Who was a knight sae rare; He’s laid his love on Burd Isbel, He’ll rue it for evermair.

5 Burd Isbel was but ten years auld, To service she has gane; And Burd Isbel was but fifeteen Whan her young son came hame.

6 It fell ance upon a day Strong travelling took she; None there was her bower within But Sir Patrick and she.

7 ‘This is a wark now, Sir Patrick, That we twa neer will end; Ye’ll do you to the outer court And call some women in.’

8 He’s done him to the outer court, And stately there did stand; Eleven ladies he’s calld in, Wi ae shake o his hand.

9 ‘Be favourable to Burd Isbel, Deal favourable if ye may; Her kirking and her fair wedding Shall baith stand on ae day.

10 ‘Deal favourable to Burd Isbel, Whom I love as my life; Ere this day month be come and gane, She’s be my wedded wife.’

11 Then he is on to his father, Fell low down on his knee; Says, Will I marry Burd Isbel? She’s born a son to me.

12 ‘O marry, marry Burd Isbel, Or use her as ye like; Ye’ll gar her wear the silks sae red And sae may ye the white. O woud ye marry Burd Isbel, Make her your heart’s delight?

13 ‘You want not lands nor rents, Patrick, You know your fortune’s free; But ere you’d marry Burd Isbel I’d rather bury thee.

14 ‘Ye’ll build a bower for Burd Isbel, And set it round wi sand; Make as much mirth in Isbel’s bower As ony in a’ the land.’

15 Then he is to his mother gane, Fell low down on his knee: ‘O shall I marry Burd Isbel? She’s born a son to me.’

16 ‘O marry, marry Burd Isbel, Or use her as ye like; Ye’ll gar her wear the silks sae red, And sae may ye the white. O would ye marry Burd Isbel, Make her wi me alike?

17 ‘You want not lands and rents, Patrick, You know your fortune’s free; But ere you marry Burd Isbel I’d rather bury thee.

18 ‘Ye’ll build a bower to Burd Isbel, And set it round wi glass; Make as much mirth in Isbel’s bower As ony in a’ the place.’

19 He’s done him down thro ha, thro ha, Sae has he in thro bower; The tears ran frae his twa grey eyes, And loot them fast down pour.

20 ‘My father and my mother baith To age are coming on; When they are dead and buried baith, Burd Isbel I’ll bring home.’

21 The words that passd atween these twa Ought never to be spoken; The vows that passd atween these twa Ought never to be broken.

22 Says he, If I another court, Or wed another wife, May eleven devils me attend At the end-day o my life.

23 But his father he soon did die, His mother nae lang behind; But Sir Patrick of Burd Isbel He now had little mind.

24 It fell ance upon a day, As she went out to walk, And there she saw him Sir Patrick, Going wi his hound and hawk.

25 ‘Stay still, stay still, now Sir Patrick, O stay a little wee, And think upon the fair promise Last year ye made to me.

26 ‘Now your father’s dead, kind sir, And your mother the same; Yet nevertheless now, Sir Patrick, Ye’re nae bringing me hame.’

27 ‘If the morn be a pleasant day, I mean to sail the sea, To spend my time in fair England, All for a month or three.’

28 He hadna been in fair England A month but barely ane Till he forgot her Burd Isbel, The mother of his son.

29 Some time he spent in fair England, And when returnd again He laid his love on a duke’s daughter, And he has brought her hame.

30 Now he’s forgot his first true love He ance lovd ower them a’; But now the devil did begin To work between them twa.

31 When Sir Patrick he was wed, And all set down to dine, Upon his first love, Burd Isbel, A thought ran in his mind.

32 He calld upon his gude grand-aunt To come right speedilie; Says, Ye’ll gae on to Burd Isbel, Bring my young son to me.

33 She’s taen her mantle her about, Wi gowd gloves on her hand, And she is on to Burd Isbel, As fast as she coud gang.

34 She haild her high, she haild her low, With stile in great degree: ‘O busk, O busk your little young son, For he maun gang wi me.’

35 ‘I woud fain see the one,’ she said, ‘O low station or hie, Woud take the bairn frae my foot, For him I bowed my knee.

36 ‘I woud fain see the one,’ she said, ‘O low station or mean, Woud take the bairn frae my foot Whom I own to be mine.’

37 Then she has done her hame again, As fast as gang coud she; ‘Present,’ said he, ‘my little young son, For him I wish to see.’

38 ‘Burd Isbel’s a bauld woman,’ she said, ‘As eer I yet spake wi;’ But sighing said him Sir Patrick, She ne’er was bauld to me.

39 But he’s dressd in his best array, His gowd rod in his hand, And he is to Burd Isbel’s bower, As fast as he coud gang.

40 ‘O how is this, Burd Isbel,’ he said, ‘So ill ye’ve used me? What gart you anger my gude grand-aunt, That I did send to thee?’

41 ‘If I hae angerd your gude grand-aunt, O then sae lat it be; I said naething to your gude grand-aunt But what I’ll say to thee.

42 ‘I woud fain see the one, I said, O low station or hie, Wha woud take this bairn frae my foot, For him I bowed the knee.

43 ‘I woud fain see the one, I said, O low station or mean, Woud take this bairn frae my foot Whom I own to be mine.’

44 ‘O if I had some counsellers here, And clerks to seal the band, I woud infeft your son this day In third part o my land.’

45 ‘I hae two couzins, Scottish clerks, Wi bills into their hand, An ye’ll infeft my son this day In third part o your land.’

46 Then he calld in her Scottish clerks, Wi bills into their hand, And he’s infeft his son that day The third part o his land.

47 To ane o these young clerks she spoke, Clerk John it was his name; Says, Of my son I gie you charge Till I return again.

48 ‘Ye’ll take here my son, clerk John, Learn him to dance and sing, And I will to some unco land, Drive love out of my mind.

49 ‘And ye’ll take here my son, clerk John, Learn him to hunt the roe, And I will to some unco land; Now lat Sir Patrick go.

50 ‘But I’ll cause this knight at church-door stand, For a’ his noble train; For selling o his precious soul Dare never come farther ben.’

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C

Motherwell’s MS., p. 440.

1 All young maidens fair and gay, Whatever your station be, Never lay your love upon a man Above your own degree.

2 I speak it all by Bird Isabel; She was her father’s dear, She laid her love on Earl Patrick, Which she rues ever mair.

3 ‘Oh, we began a wark, Patrick, That we two cannot end; Go you unto the outer stair And call some women in.’

4 He’s gone unto the outer stair, And up in it did stand, And did bring in eleven ladies, With one sign of his hand.

5 He did him to the doctor’s shop, As fast as he could gang, But ere the doctor could get there Bird Isabel bore a son.

6 But he has courted a duke’s daughter, Lived far beyont the sea; Burd Isabel’s parents were but mean, They had not gear to gie.

7 He has courted a duke’s daughter, Lived far beyond the foam; Burd Isabel was a mean woman, And tocher she had none.

8 Now it fell once upon a day His wedding day was come; He’s hied him to his great-grand-aunt, As fast as he could gang.

9 Says, Will you go this errand, aunt? Go you this errand for me, And if I live and bruick my life I will go as far for thee.

10 ‘Go and bring me Bird Isbel’s son, Dressed in silks so fine, And if he live to be a man He shall heir all my land.’

11 Now she went hailing to the door, And hailing ben the floor, And Isabel styled her madame, And she, her Isabel dear.

12 ‘I came to take Earl Patrick’s son, To dress in silks so fine; For if he live to be a man He is to heir his land.’

13 ‘Oh is there ever a woman,’ she said, ‘Of high station or mean, Daur take this bairn from my knee? For he is called mine.

14 ‘Oh is there ever a woman,’ she said, ‘Of mean station or hie, Daur tak this bairn frae my foot? For him I bowed my knee.’

15 His aunt went hailing to his door, And hailing ben the floor, And she has styled him, Patrick, And [he] her, aunty dear.

16 She says, I have been east and west, And far beyond the sea, But Isabel is the boldest woman That ever my eyes did see.

17 ‘You surely dream, my aunty dear, For that can never be; Burd Isabel’s not a bold woman, She never was bold to me.’

18 Now he went hailing to her door, And hailing ben the floor, And she has styled him, Patrick, And he her, Isabel dear.

19 ‘O ye have angered my great-grand-aunt; You know she’s a lady free;’ ‘I said naught to your great-grand-aunt But what I’ll say to thee.

20 ‘Oh is there ever a woman, I said, Of high station or mean, Daur tak this bairn from my knee? For he is called mine.

21 ‘Oh is there ever a woman, I said, Of mean station or hie, Daur tak this bairn from my foot? For him I bowed my knee.

22 ‘But I’ll cause you stand at good church-door, For all your noble train; For selling of your precious soul, You shall not get further ben.’

258

BROUGHTY WA’S

#a.# ‘Helen,’ Buchan’s MSS, I, 233.

#b.# ‘Burd Hellen,’ or, ‘Browghty Wa’s,’ Harris MS., fol. 17 b; from Mrs Harris.

A young woman is carried off from Broughty Castle, near Dundee, by a body of armed Highlanders. Her lover, who is making her a visit at the time, is either taken along with her—an unnecessary incumbrance, one would think—or follows her. The pair go out to take the air; she throws herself into a river; her lover leaps in after her and is drowned. She kilts up her clothes and makes her way to Dundee, congratulating herself that she had learned to swim for liberty.

Stanza 9, as it runs in #b#, is a reminiscence of ‘Bonny Baby Livingston,’ and 13 recalls ‘Child Waters,’ or ‘The Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter.’

* * * * *

1 Burd Helen was her mother’s dear, Her father’s heir to be; He was the laird of Broughty Walls, And the provost o Dundee.

2 Burd Helen she was much admired By all that were round about; Unto Hazelan she was betrothed, Her virgin days were out.

3 Glenhazlen was a comely youth, And virtuous were his friends; He left the schools o bonny Dundee And on to Aberdeen.

4 It fell upon a Christmas Day Burd Helen was left alone For to keep her father’s towers; They stand two miles from town.

5 Glenhazlen’s on to Broughty Walls, Was thinking to win in; But the wind it blew, and the rain dang on And wat him to the skin.

6 He was very well entertaind, Baith for his bed and board, Till a band o men surrounded them, Well armd wi spear and sword.

7 They hurried her along wi them, Lockd up her maids behind; They threw the keys out-ower the walls, That none the plot might find.

8 They hurried her along wi them, Ower mony a rock and glen, But, all that they could say or do, From weeping would not refrain.

9 ‘The Hiland hills are hie, hie hills, The Hiland hills are hie; They are no like the banks o Tay, Or bonny town o Dundee.’

10 It fell out ance upon a day They went to take the air; She threw hersell upon the stream, Against wind and despair.

11 It was sae deep he coudna wide, Boats werna to be found, But he leapt in after himsell, And sunk down like a stone.

12 She kilted up her green claiding A little below her knee, And never rest nor was undrest Till she reachd again Dundee.

13 ‘I learned this at Broughty Walls, At Broughty near Dundee, That if water were my prison strong I would swim for libertie.’

* * * * *

#a.#

7^2. Tuckd.

#b.#

1^4. the _wanting_.

2^3. But to Hunglen.

3^2. were _wanting_.

4^1. fell oot once upon a time.

4^3. All for.

4^4. stand ten.

5^1. Glenhazlen he cam ridin bye.

5^2. An thinkin to get in.

7^1, 8^1. They hies̄ēd.

7^2. Locked up.

7^3. An flang.

8^4. To weep she wald.

9^{3,4}. An if you wald my favour gain, Oh, tak me to Dundee!

10^1. once upon a time.

10^2. went oot to.

10^3. into the.

10^4. Between.

11^1. The stream was deep.

11^2. So he: after her himsell.

_After 11_:

‘The Highland hills are high, high hills, The Highland hills are hie; They’re no like the pleasant banks o Tay, Nor the bonnie town o Dundee’.

13^3. water waur my prison-walls.

13^4. I could.

259

LORD THOMAS STUART

Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 1.

Lord Thomas Stuart has married a young countess, and has given her Strathbogie and Aboyne for a morning-gift. The lady has a desire to see these places. As they are on their way thither (from Edinburgh), her husband is attacked with a pain which obliges him to turn back; he tells her to ride on, and she seems so to do. The pain proves to be beyond the skill of leeches. Lord Thomas begs his father to see that his wife gets what he has given her. He dies; the horses turn wild in the stables, the hounds howl on the leash. Lady Stuart has the usual dream (No 74, #A# 8, #B# 11, etc.). She comes back wringing her hands; she knows by the horses that are standing about the house that the burial is preparing.

* * * * *

1 Thomas Stuart was a lord, A lord of mickle land; He used to wear a coat of gold, But now his grave is green.

2 Now he has wooed the young countess, The Countess of Balquhin, An given her for a morning-gift Strathboggie and Aboyne.

3 But women’s wit is aye willful, Alas that ever it was sae! She longed to see the morning-gift That her gude lord to her gae.

4 When steeds were saddled an weel bridled, An ready for to ride, There came a pain on that gude lord, His back, likewise his side.

5 He said, Ride on, my lady fair, May goodness be your guide! For I’m sae sick an weary that No farther can I ride.

6 Now ben did come his father dear, Wearing a golden band; Says, Is there nae leech in Edinburgh Can cure my son from wrang?

7 ‘O leech is come, an leech is gane, Yet, father, I’m aye waur; There’s not a leech in Edinbro Can death from me debar.

8 ‘But be a friend to my wife, father, Restore to her her own; Restore to her my morning-gift, Strathboggie and Aboyne.

9 ‘It had been gude for my wife, father, To me she’d born a son; He would have got my land an rents, Where they lie out an in.

10 ‘It had been gude for my wife, father, To me she’d born an heir; He would have got my land an rents, Where they lie fine an fair.’

11 The steeds they strave into their stables, The boys could’nt get them bound; The hounds lay howling on the leech, Cause their master was behind.

12 ‘I dreamed a dream since late yestreen, I wish it may be good, That our chamber was full of swine, An our bed full of blood.’

13 I saw a woman come from the West, Full sore wringing her hands, And aye she cried, Ohon, alas! My good lord’s broken bands.

14 As she came by my good lord’s bower, Saw mony black steeds an brown: ‘I’m feared it be mony unco lords Havin my love from town!’

15 As she came by my gude lord’s bower, Saw mony black steeds an grey: ‘I’m feared it’s mony unco lords Havin my love to the clay!’

260

LORD THOMAS AND LADY MARGARET

#A. a.# ‘Lord Thomas,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 407. #b.# ‘Lord Thomas and Lady Margaret,’ the same, p. 71.

#B.# ‘Clerk Tamas,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 43.

Christie, who gives #B#, “epitomized and slightly changed,” under the title ‘Clerk Tamas and Fair Annie,’ Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 12, says that he can trace the ballad, traditionally, far into the last century.

#A.# Lord Thomas goes a-hunting, and Lady Margaret rides after him; when he sees her following, he orders his servants to hunt her far from him, and they hunt her high and low. She comes upon a tall young man, and begs ‘relief’ from him for a lady wronged in love and chased from her ‘country.’ No relief is to be had from him unless she will renounce all other men and be his wife. After a time, Lady Margaret, sewing at her window, observes a vagrant body, who turns out to be Lord Thomas, reduced to beggary; he has been banished from his own country, and asks relief. No relief from her; she would hang him were he within her bower. Not so, says Lord Thomas; rather he would kill her lord with his broadsword and carry her off. Not so, says Lady Margaret, but you must come in and drink with me. She poisons three bottles of wine, and pretends to be his taster. Lord Thomas drinks away merrily, but soon feels the poison. I am wearied with this drinking, he says. And so was I when you set your hounds at me, she replies; but you shall be buried as if you were one of my own.

#B# has Clerk Tamas for Lord Thomas, and Fair Annie for Lady Margaret. Tamas has loved Annie devotedly, but now hates her and the lands she lives in. Annie goes to ask him to pity her; he sees her coming, as he lies ‘over his shot-window,’ and orders his men to hunt her to the sea. A captain, lying ‘over his ship-window,’ sees Annie driven from the town, and offers to take her in if she will forsake friends and lands for him. The story goes on much as in #A#.

#A# 8 is borrowed from ‘The Douglas Tragedy,’ see No 7, #C# 9. #B# 14^{3,4} is a commonplace, which, in inferior traditional ballads, is often, as here, an out-of-place. #B# 15, 16 is another commonplace, of the silly sort: see No 87, #B# 3, 4, #D# 4, 5, and Buchan’s ‘Lady Isabel,’ 20, 21.

* * * * *

A

#a.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 407; from the recitation of Mrs Parkhill, Maxweltown, 28 September, 1825 (with variations, furnished by another person of the same neighborhood, interlined). #b.# Motherwell’s MS., p. 71; from Miss ——, Glasgow.

1 Lord Thomas is to the hunting gone, To hunt the fallow deer; Lady Margaret’s to the greenwood shaw, To see her lover hunt there.

2 He has looked over his left shoulder, To see what might be seen, And there he saw Lady Margaret, As she was riding her lane.