Part 61

9 He’s taen out a little pen-knife, Hang low doun by his gaer, An thro an thro Clerk Sandy’s middle; A word spake he never mair.

10 They lay lang, an lang they lay, Till the bird in its cage did sing; She softly unto him did say, I wonder ye sleep sae soun.

11 They lay lang, an lang they lay, Till the sun shane on their feet; She softly unto him did say, Ye ly too sound asleep.

12 She softly turnd her round about, An wondred he slept sae soun; An she lookd ovr her left shoulder, An the blood about them ran.

1^2. bents o Broun.

71. The Bent Sae Brown.

P. 170 a, III, 509 a, IV, 164 b. #Danish.# ‘Jomfruens Brødre,’ ‘Hr. Hjælm,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 266, 269, No 65, #A, B#, No 66.

72. The Clerk’s Twa Sons o Owsenford.

P. 174, 512 a, III, 509 a. M. Gaston Paris has made it strongly probable that Pontoise, and not Toulouse, was originally the scene of the French-Catalan-Italian ballad. Three students had inadvertently trespassed on the hunting-grounds of Enguerrand de Couci; the baron had them arrested by his foresters and hanged from the battlements of his castle; for which St Louis made him pay a heavy fine, and with the money founded a hospital at Pontoise. Journal des Savants, Sept.-Nov., 1889, p. 614.

73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.

P. 180. Norse (1). ‘Peder och liten Stina,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 18, No 5. Stina hangs herself in the orchard. Peder runs on his spear.

181, III, 510 b. French ballads. ‘La Délaissée,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 50. ‘Le Rossignolet,’ Revue des Traditions pop., V, 144, 205.

* * * * *

I

P. 182 f. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 h; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. From Jean Scott.

1 Fair Annie an Sweet Willie Sat a’ day on yon hill; Whan day was gane an night was comd, They hadna said their fill.

2 Willie spak but ae wrang word, An Annie took it ill: ‘I’ll never marry a fair woman Against my friends’s will.’

3 Annie spak but ae wrang word, An Willy lookit down: ‘If I binna gude eneugh for yer wife, I’m our-gude for yer loun.’

4 Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about, He’s turnd it to the broom, An he’s away to his father’s bower, I the ae light o the moon.

5 Whan he cam to his father’s bower, [He tirlt at the pin; Nane was sae ready as his father To rise an let him in.]

6 ‘An askin, an askin, dear father, An askin I’ll ask thee;’ ‘Say on, say on, my son Willie, Whatever your askin be.’

7 ‘O sall I marry the nit-brown bride, Has corn, caitle an kye, Or sall I marry Fair Annie, Has nought but fair beauty?’

8 ‘Ye ma sit a gude sate, Willy, Wi corn, caitle an kye; But ye’ll but sit a silly sate Wi nought but fair beauty.’

9 Up than spak his sister’s son, Sat on the nurse’s knee, Sun-bruist in his mother’s wame, Sun-brunt on his nurse’s knee:

10 ‘O yer hogs will die out i the field, Yer kye ill die i the byre; An than, whan a’ yer gear is gane, A fusom fag by yer fire! But a’ will thrive at is wi you An ye get yer heart’s desire.’

11 Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about, He’s away to his mother’s bour, etc.

12 ‘O my hogs ill die out i the field, My kye die i the byre, An than, whan a’ my gear is gane, A fusom fag bi my fire! But a’ will thrive at is wi me Gin I get my heart’s desire.’

13 Willie’s, etc., He’s awae to his brother’s bower, etc.

14 “ ” “ ” sister’s bower, etc.@

15 Than Willie has set his wadin-day Within thirty days an three, An he has sent to Fair Annie His waddin to come an see.

16 The man that gade to Fair Annie Sae weel his errant coud tell: ‘The morn it’s Willie’s wadin-day, Ye maun be there yer sell.’

17 ’Twas up an spak her aged father, He spak wi muckle care; ‘An the morn be Willie’s wadin-day, I wate she maun be there.

18 ‘Gar take a steed to the smiddie, Caw on o it four shoon; Gar take her to a merchant’s shop, Cut off for her a gown.’

19 She wadna ha’t o the red sae red, Nor yet o the grey sae grey, But she wad ha’t o the sky couler That she woor ilka day.

* * * * * *

20 There war four-an-twontie gray goss-hawks A flaffin their wings sae wide, To flaff the stour thra off the road That Fair Annie did ride.

21 The[re] war four-a-twontie milk-white dows A fleein aboon her head, An four-an-twontie milk-white swans Her out the gate to lead.

22 Whan she cam to St Marie’s kirk, She lightit on a stane; The beauty o that fair creature Shone oer mony ane.

23 ’Twas than out cam the nit-brown bride, She spak wi muckle spite; ‘O where gat ye the water, Annie, That washes you sae white?’

24 ‘I gat my beauty Where ye was no to see; I gat it i my father’s garden, Aneath an apple tree.

25 ‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said, ‘An ye ma wash i syke, But an ye wad wash till doomsday Ye neer will be as white.

26 ‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said, ‘An ye ma wash i the sea, But an ye soud wash till doomsday Ye’ll neer be as white as me.

27 ‘For I gat a’ this fair beauty Where ye gat never none, For I gat a’ this fair beauty Or ever I was born.’

28 It was than out cam Willie, Wi hats o silks and flowers; He said, Keep ye thae, my Fair Annie, An brook them weel for yours.’

29 ‘Na, keep ye thae, Willie,’ she said, ‘Gie them to yer nit-brown bride; Bid her wear them wi mukle care, For woman has na born a son Sal mak my heart as sair.’

30 Annie’s luppen on her steed An she has ridden hame, Than Annie’s luppen of her steed An her bed she has taen.

31 When mass was sung, an bells war rung, An a’ man bound to bed, An Willie an his nit-brown bride I their chamber war laid.

32 They war na weel laid in their bed, Nor yet weel faen asleep, Till up an startit Fair Annie, Just up at Willie’s feet.

33 ‘How like ye yer bed, Willie? An how like ye yer sheets? An how like ye yer nut-brown bride, Lies in yer arms an sleeps?’

34 ‘Weel eneugh I like my bed, Annie, Weel eneugh I like my sheets; But wae be to the nit-brown bride Lies in my arms an sleeps!’

35 Willie’s ca’d on his merry men a’ To rise an pit on their shoon; ‘An we’ll awae to Annie’s bower, Wi the ae light o the moon.’

36 An whan he cam to Annie’s bower, He tirlt at the pin; Nane was sae ready as her father To rise an let him in.

37 There was her father a[n] her se’en brethren A makin to her a bier, Wi ae stamp o the melten goud, Another o siller clear.

38 When he cam to the chamber-door Where that the dead lay in, There was her mother an six sisters A makin to her a sheet, Wi ae drap o . . . . Another o silk sae white.

39 ‘Stand by, stand by now, ladies a’, Let me look on the dead; The last time that I kiss[t] her lips They war mair bonny red.’

40 ‘Stand by, stand by now, Willie,’ they said, ‘An let ye her alane; Gin ye had done as ye soud done, She wad na there ha lien.’

41 ‘Gar deal, gar deal at Annie’s burrial The wheat bread an the wine, For or the morn at ten o clock Ye’s deal’d as fast at mine.’

5. Whan he cam to his father’s bower, etc. _Completed from 36._

7^2. caitle _written under_ cattle.

8^4. Annie _written over_ nought.

11. _4–8 are intended to be repeated, with mother substituted for_ father.

13, 14. 4–8, 12, _are intended to be repeated, with the proper substitutions for_ brother, sister.

_After 19_: Something about her sadle and steed.

20^2, 37^2, 38^4. A’; _which may be intended_.

29. _Compare #E# 30: but I am unable to suggest a satisfactory restoration of the stanza._

_After 41_: etc. See Sweet Willie an Janet. _What should follow is probably_, Sweet Willie was buried, _etc._

There are six stanzas of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Elenor,’ from Mrs Gammell’s recitation, in Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 35. They are of no value.

75. Lord Lovel.

P. 204 f., note †, 512 b. Add: Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche V. l. aus Böhmen, p. 108, No 20, #a-f#.

205 a, note, III, 510 b. For ‘Stolten Hellelille, see Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, V, II, 352, No 312, ‘Gøde og Hillelille.’ Add: ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 319, No 79, #A-E#.

205 b, III, 510 b. ‘Den elskedes Død:’ the same volume of Kristensen, ‘Herr Peders Kjæreste,’ p. 327, No 80.

206, 512 b, III, 510 b. ‘Lou Fil del Rey et sa Mio morto,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 82.

There is a similar ballad, ending with admonition from the dead mistress, in Luzel, Soniou, I, 324, 25, ‘Cloaregic ar Stanc.’

76. The Lass of Roch Royal.

213 a. Title of #B#. Not Lochroyan in Herd, I, 144, but, both in title and text, Lochvoyan. In Herd, II, 60, the title has Lochroyan; the word does not occur in so much of the text as remains. Printed Lochroyan by Herd, and probably Lochroyan was intended in I, 144, as the alternative, though the last letter but one is indistinctly written, and may be read _e_. #B# came to Herd “by post from a lady in Ayrshire (?), name unknown.” Also, No 38, #A a#, No 51, #A a#; No 161, #B a#; No 220, #A#. Note (in pencil, and indistinct as to the place), Herd’s MSS, I, 143.

215 a. A part of this ballad is introduced into two versions of ‘The Mother’s Malison,’ No 216; see IV, 186. See also ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64, #A# 13, #D# 5, #G# 5.

217. #B.# Lochvoyan everywhere, not Lochroyan.

221. #E# 2^2. Finlay, in a letter to Scott, March 27, 1803 (Letters, I, No 87), says, “in a copy which I have seen, with the music, it is a birchen, instead of a silver, kame.”

‘The Lass of Lochroyan,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 82, Abbotsford. Communicated to Scott by Major Henry Hutton, Royal Artillery, 24th December, 1802 (Letters I, No 77), as recollected by his father and the family.

Some ten stanzas of this version (16–19, 25–27, 30, 32, 34) appear to have been used by Scott in compiling the copy printed in his Minstrelsy, #E b#. (The note on #E b#, p. 226, requires correction.) There is much in common with #B#, #E a#, #F#.

1 ‘O wha will shoe my bonny foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will bind my middle jimp Wi a lang, lang linen band?

2 ‘O wha will kame my yellow hair, With a haw bayberry kame? And wha will be my babe’s father Till Gregory come hame?’

3 ‘Thy father, he will shoe thy foot, Thy brother will glove thy hand, Thy mither will bind thy middle jimp Wi a lang, lang linen band.

4 ‘Thy sister will kame thy yellow hair, Wi a haw bayberry kame; The Almighty will be thy babe’s father Till Gregory come hame.’

5 ‘And wha will build a bonny ship, And set it on the sea? For I will go to seek my love, My ain love Gregory.’

6 Up then spak her father dear, A wafu man was he; ‘And I will build a bonny ship, And set her on the sea.

7 ‘And I will build a bonny ship, And set her on the sea, And ye sal gae and seek your love, Your ain love Gregory.’

8 Then he’s gard build a bonny ship, And set it on the sea, Wi four-and-twenty mariners, To bear her company.

9 O he’s gart build a bonny ship, To sail on the salt sea; The mast was o the beaten gold, The sails [o] cramoisie.

10 The sides were o the gude stout aik, The deck o mountain pine, The anchor o the silver shene, The ropes o silken twine.

11 She had na saild but twenty leagues, But twenty leagues and three, When she met wi a rank rever, And a’ his companie.

12 ‘Now are ye queen of heaven hie, Come to pardon a’ our sin? Or are ye Mary Magdalane, Was born at Bethlam?’

13 ‘I’m no the queen of heaven hie, Come to pardon ye your sin, Nor am I Mary Magdalane, Was born in Bethlam.

14 ‘But I’m the lass of Lochroyan, That’s sailing on the sea To see if I can find my love, My ain love Gregory.’

15 ‘O see na ye yon bonny bower? It’s a’ covered oer wi tin; When thou hast saild it round about, Lord Gregory is within.’

16 And when she saw the stately tower, Shining both clear and bright, Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave, Built on a rock of height,

17 Says, Row the boat, my mariners, And bring me to the land, For yonder I see my love’s castle, Close by the salt sea strand.

18 She saild it round, and saild it round, And loud and loud cried she ‘Now break, now break your fairy charms, And set my true-love free.’

19 She’s taen her young son in her arms And to the door she’s gane, And long she knockd, and sair she ca’d, But answer got she nane.

20 ‘O open, open, Gregory! O open! if ye be within; For here’s the lass of Lochroyan, Come far fra kith and kin.

21 ‘O open the door, Lord Gregory! O open and let me in! The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory, The rain drops fra my chin.

22 ‘The shoe is frozen to my foot, The glove unto my hand, The wet drops fra my yellow hair, Na langer dow I stand.’

23 O up then spak his ill mither, An ill death may she die! ‘Y’re no the lass of Lochroyan, She’s far out-our the sea.

24 ‘Awa, awa, ye ill woman, Ye’re no come here for gude; Ye’re but some witch or wil warlock, Or mermaid o the flood.’

25 ‘I am neither witch nor wil warlock, Nor mermaid o the sea, But I am Annie of Lochroyan, O open the door to me!’

26 ‘Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan, As I trow thou binna she, Now tell me of some love-tokens That past tween thee and me.’

27 ‘O dinna ye mind, love Gregory, As we sat at the wine, We chang’d the rings frae our fingers? And I can shew thee thine.

28 ‘O yours was gude, and gude enough, But ay the best was mine, For yours was o the gude red gowd, But mine o the diamond fine.

29 ‘Yours was o the gude red gowd, Mine o the diamond fine; Mine was o the purest troth, But thine was false within.’

30 ‘If ye be the lass of Lochroyan, As I kenna thou be, Tell me some mair o the love-tokens Past between thee and me.’

31 ‘And dinna ye mind, love Gregory, As we sat on the hill, Thou twin’d me o my maidenheid, Right sair against my will?

32 ‘Now open the door, love Gregory! Open the door! I pray; For thy young son is in my arms, And will be dead ere day.’

33 ‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye ill woman, So loud I hear ye lie; For Annie of the Lochroyan Is far out-our the sea.’

34 Fair Annie turnd her round about: ‘Weel, sine that it be sae, May neer woman that has borne a son Hae a heart sae fu o wae!

35 ‘Take down, take down that mast o gowd, Set up a mast of tree; It disna become a forsaken lady To sail sae royallie.’

36 When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn, And the sun began to peep, Up then raise Lord Gregory, And sair, sair did he weep.

37 ‘O I hae dreamd a dream, mither, I wish it may bring good! That the bonny lass of Lochroyan At my bower-window stood.

38 ‘O I hae dreamd a dream, mither, The thought o’t gars me greet! That fair Annie of Lochroyan Lay dead at my bed-feet.’

39 ‘Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan That ye make a’ this main, She stood last night at your bower-door, But I hae sent her hame.’

40 ‘O wae betide ye, ill woman, An ill death may ye die! That wadna open the door yoursell Nor yet wad waken me.’

41 O he’s gane down to yon shore-side, As fast as he coud dree, And there he saw fair Annie’s bark A rowing our the sea.

42 ‘O Annie, Annie,’ loud he cried, ‘O Annie, O Annie, bide!’ But ay the mair he cried Annie The braider grew the tide.

43 ‘O Annie, Annie, dear Annie, Dear Annie, speak to me!’ But ay the louder he gan call The louder roard the sea.

44 The wind blew loud, the waves rose hie And dashd the boat on shore; Fair Annie’s corpse was in the feume, The babe rose never more.

45 Lord Gregory tore his gowden locks And made a wafu moan; Fair Annie’s corpse lay at his feet, His bonny son was gone.

46 ‘O cherry, cherry was her cheek, And gowden was her hair, And coral, coral was her lips, Nane might with her compare.’

47 Then first he kissd her pale, pale cheek, And syne he kissd her chin, And syne he kissd her wane, wane lips, There was na breath within.

48 ‘O wae betide my ill mither, An ill death may she die! She turnd my true-love frae my door, Who came so far to me.

49 ‘O wae betide my ill mither, An ill death may she die! She has no been the deid o ane, But she’s been the deid of three.’

50 Then he’s taen out a little dart, Hung low down by his gore, He thrust it through and through his heart, And words spak never more.

1^1, 43^1. Oh.

77. Sweet William’s Ghost.

P. 233. #G.# These three stanzas, which Scott annexed to ‘Clerk Saunders’ in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 41, were contributed by the Ettrick Shepherd, who writes, not quite lucidly: “Altho this ballad [Clerk Saunders] is mixed with another, according to my mother’s edition, in favour of whose originality I am strongly prepossessed, yet, as the one does in no sense disgrace the other in their present form, according to her it ends thus.”

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 141, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1 ‘But plett a wand o bonnie birk An lay it on my breast, An drap a tear upon my grave, An wiss my saul gude rest.

2 ‘But fair Marget, an rare Marget, An Marget, o verity, If eer ye loe another man, Neer loe him as ye did me.’

3 But up then crew the milk-white cock, An up then crew the grey; Her lover vanishd in the air, An she gaed weepin away.

78. The Unquiet Grave.

P. 236 b. Add: Waldau’s Böhmische Granaten, II, 121, No 176.

236 f., III, 512 f. The Rev. S. Baring-Gould has recovered several copies of ‘The Unquiet Grave’ in the West Country. It will be observed that the variations in this ballad do not take a wide range. The verses are not always sung in the same order; there is not story enough to keep them in place. Mr Baring-Gould informs me that there is a Devon popular tale which is very similar (possibly a prose version of the ballad). In this, a bramble-leaf comes between the lips of the maiden and her dead lover, and her life is saved thereby. This tale is utilized in the ballad as printed in Songs of the West, No 6, ‘Cold blows the wind, sweetheart!’

* * * * *

H

#a.# Sent Rev. S. Baring-Gould by Mrs Gibbons, daughter of the late Sir W. L. Trelawney, as she remembered it sung by her nurse, Elizabeth Doidge, a woman of the neighborhood of Brentor, about 1828. #b.# Obtained by the same from John Woodrich, blacksmith, parish of Thrustleton, as heard from his grandmother about 1848. #c.# By the same, from Anne Roberts, Scobbeter.

1 ‘Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart, Cold are the drops of rain; The very first love that ever I had In greenwood he was slain.

2 ‘I’ll do as much for my sweet-heart As any young woman may; I’ll sit and mourn on his grave-side A twelve-month and a day.’

3 A twelve-month and a day being up, The ghost began to speak: ‘Why sit you here by my grave-side And will not let me sleep?

4 ‘What is it that you want of me, Or what of me would have?’ ‘A kiss from off your lily-white lips, And that is all I crave!’

5 ‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart, My breath is earthy strong; To gain a kiss of my cold lips, Your time would not be long.

6 ‘If you were not my own sweet-heart, As now I know you be, I’d tear you as the withered leaves That grew on yonder tree.’

7 ‘O don’t you mind the garden, love, Where you and I did walk? The fairest flower that blossomd there Is withered on the stalk.

* * * * * *

8 ‘And now I’ve mourned upon his grave A twelvemonth and a day, We’ll set our sails before the wind And so we’ll sail away.’

b.

1 Cold blows the wind to-night, my love, Cold are the drops of rain; The very first love that ever I had In greenwood he was slain.

2 ‘I’ll do as much for my true-love As any young woman may; I’ll sit and mourn upon his grave A twelve-month and a day.’

3 When a twelve-month and a day were up, His body straight arose: ‘What brings you weeping oer my grave That I get no repose?’

4 ‘O think upon the garden, love, Where you and I did walk; The fairest flower that blossomd there Is withered on the stalk.

5 ‘The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart. The flower will neer return, And my true-love is dead, is dead, And I do naught but mourn.’

6 ‘What is it that you want of me And will not let me sleep? Your salten tears they trickle down And wet my winding-sheet.’

7 ‘What is it that I want of thee, O what of thee in grave? A kiss from off your lily-white lips, And that is all I crave.’

8 ‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart, My breath is earthy strong; If you do touch my clay-cold lips, Your time will not be long.’

9 ‘Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart, One kiss is all I crave; I care not, if I kiss but thee, That I should share thy grave.’

10 ‘Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep, Wring water from a stone, And likewise milk from a maiden’s breast That never maid hath none. (_Read_ babe had.)

* * * * * *

11 ‘Now if you were not true in word, As now I know you be, I’d tear you as the withered leaves Are torn from off the tree.’

c.

1 ‘It’s for to meet the falling drops, Cold fall the drops of rain; The last true-love, _etc._

2 ‘I’ll do as much for my fair love As any,’ _etc._

_The rest “almost exactly” as #b#._

‘Charles Graeme,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 89, Motherwell’s MS., p. 624, begins with stanzas which belong to this ballad. What follows after the third, or just possibly the sixth, stanza reads as if some contributor had been diverting himself with an imposition on the editor’s simplicity. Buchan himself remarks in a note, p. 299: “There seems to be a very great inconsistency manifested throughout the whole of this ballad in the lady’s behavior towards the ghost of her departed lover. Perhaps she wished to sit and sigh alone, undisturbed with visits from the inhabitants of the grave.” (Translated by Gerhard, p. 63.)

1 ‘Cauld, cauld blaws the winter night, Sair beats the heavy rain; Young Charles Graeme’s the lad I love, In greenwood he lies slain.

2 ‘But I will do for Charles Graeme What other maidens may; I’ll sit and harp upon his grave A twelvemonth and a day.’

3 She harped a’ the live-lang night, The saut tears she did weep, Till at the hour o one o’clock His ghost began to peep.

4 Pale and deadly was his cheek, And pale, pale was his chin; And how and hollow were his een, No light appeard therein.

5 ‘Why sit ye here, ye maiden fair, To mourn sae sair for me?’ ‘I am sae sick, and very love-sick, Aye foot I cannot jee.

6 ‘Sae well’s I loved young Charles Graeme, I kent he loved me; My very heart’s now like to break For his sweet companie.’

7 ‘Will ye hae an apple, lady, And I will sheave it sma?’ ‘I am sae sick, and very love-sick, I cannot eat at a’.’

8 ‘Will ye hae the wine, lady, And I will drain it sma?’ ‘I am sae sick, and very love-sick, I cannot drink at a’.