Part 62

9 ‘See ye not my father’s castle, Well covered ower wi tin? There’s nane has sic an anxious wish As I hae to be in.’

10 ‘O hame, fair maid, ye’se quickly won, But this request grant me; When ye are safe in downbed laid, That I may sleep wi thee.’

11 ‘If hame again, sir, I could win, I’ll this request grant thee; When I am safe in downbed laid, This night ye’se sleep wi me.’

12 Then he poud up a birken bow, Pat it in her right han, And they are to yon castle fair, As fast as they coud gang.

13 When they came to yon castle fair, It was piled round about; She slipped in and bolted the yetts, Says, Ghaists may stand thereout.

14 Then he vanishd frae her sight In the twinkling o an ee; Says, Let never ane a woman trust Sae much as I’ve done thee.

80. Old Robin of Portingale.

P. 240, 513 a, III, 514. Mabillon cites Balderic’s history of the first crusade, whose words are: “Multi etiam de gente plebeia crucem sibi divinitus innatam jactando ostentabant, quod et idem quædam ex mulierculis præsumpserunt; hoc enim falsum deprehensum est omnino. Multi vero ferrum callidum instar crucis sibi adhibuerunt, vel peste jactantiæ, vel bonæ suæ voluntatis ostentatione.” Migne, Patrologiæ Curs. Compl., tom. clxvi, col. 1070.

A man who is looking forward to a pilgrimage to the Holy Land wishes to have the cross burned into his right shoulder, since then, though he should be stript of his clothes, the cross would remain: Miracula S. Thomæ, Auctore Benedicto, Robertson, Materials for the History of Thomas Becket, II, 175. The branding of the cross in the flesh must have become common, since it was forbidden by the canon law. In some editions of the Sarum Missal, a warning is inserted in the Servitium Peregrinorum: “Combustio crucis in carne peregrinis euntibus Hierusalem prohibitum est in lege, secundum jura canonica, sub pœna excommunicationis majoris.” Sarum Missal, Burntisland, 1867, col. 856*. (Cited by Cutts, Scenes and Characters of the Middle Ages, p. 167.)

81. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard.

P. 242 ff. #F#, which Jamieson says he received from Scotland, happens to have been preserved at Abbotsford. Since Jamieson made a considerable number of small changes, the original text is now given here.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 133 c, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1 ‘I have a towr in Dalesberry, Whilk now is dearly dight, And I will gie it to young Musgrave, To lodge wi me a night.’

2 ‘To lodge wi thee a night, fair lady, Wad breed baith sorrow and strife; For I see by the rings on your fingers Ye’re good Lord Barnaby’s wife.’

3 ‘Lord Barnaby’s wife although I be, Yet what is that to thee? For we’l beguile him for this ae night; He’s on to fair Dundee.

4 ‘Come here, come here, my little foot-page, This guinea I will give thee, If ye will keep thir secrets closs Tween young Musgrave an me.

5 ‘But here hae I a little pen-knife, Hings low down by my gare; If ye dinna keep thir secrets closs, Ye’l find it wonder sair.’

6 Then she’s taen him to her chamber, An down in her arms lay he; The boy koost off his hose an shoon An ran for fair Dundee.

7 When he came to the wan water, He slackd his bow an swam, An when he wan to growan gress Set down his feet an ran.

8 And whan he came to fair Dundee, Could nouther rap nor ca, But set his braid bow to his breast An merrily jumpd the wa.

9 ‘O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, Waken, an come away!’ ‘What ails, what ails my wee foot-page He cry’s sae lang or day?

10 ‘O is my towers burnt, my boy? Or is my castle won? Or has the lady that I loe best Brought me a daughter or son?’

11 ‘Your halls are safe, your towers are safe An free frae all alarms; But oh, the lady that ye loe best Lyes sound i Musgrave’s arms.’

12 ‘Gae saddle me the black,’ he cry’d, ‘Gae saddle me the gray; Gae saddle me the milk-white steed, To hie me out the way.’

13 ‘O lady, I heard a wee horn tout, An it blew wonder clear, An ay the turnin o the note Was, Barnaby will be here!

14 ‘I thought I heard a wee horn blaw, An it blew loud an hie, An ay at ilka turn it said, Away, Musgrave, away!’

15 ‘Lye still, my dear, lye still, my dear, Ye keep me frae the cold! For it is but my father’s shepherds, Drivin there flocks to the fold.’

16 Up they lookit, an down they lay, An they’re fa’n sound asleep; Till up start good Lord Barnaby, Just closs at their bed-feet.

17 ‘How do ye like my bed, Musgrave? An how like ye my sheets? An how like ye my fair lady, Lyes in your arms an sleeps?’

18 ‘Weel I like your bed, my lord, An weel I like your sheets; But ill like I your fair lady, Lyes in my arms an sleeps.

19 ‘You got your wale o se’en sisters, An I got mine o five; So take ye mine, an I’s take thine, An we nae mair shall strive.’

20 ‘O my woman’s the best woman That ever brake world’s bread, But your woman’s the worst woman That ever drew coat oer head.

21 ‘I have two swords in my scabbart, They are baith sharp an clear; Take ye the best, and I the worst, An we’l end the matter here.

22 ‘But up an arm thee, young Musgrave, We’l try it hand to hand; It’s neer be said o Lord Barnaby He struck at a naked man.’

23 The first stroke that young Musgrave got, It was baith deep an sair, An down he fell at Barnaby’s feet, An word spak never mair.

24 ‘A grave! a grave!’ Lord Barnaby cry’d, ‘A grave to lay them in! My lady shall lye on the sunny side, Because of her noble kin.’

25 But O how sorry was that good lord, For a’ his angry mood, When he espy’d his ain young son All weltering in his blood!

The following copy was kindly communicated to me by Mr David MacRitchie, Honorary Secretary of the Gypsy Lore Society, in advance of its publication in the Journal of the society. While it preserves the framework of the story, it differs very considerably in details from all the printed copies. It is evidently of the same origin as some of the Scottish versions (all of which seem to derive from print), though it has no marked resemblance to the actual form of any particular one of these. Some peculiarities are plausibly attributable to dim or imperfect recollection. Thus, the ball-play of #D#, #E#, etc., is turned into a ball. Lord Barnard is made a king, and the page the king’s brother (neither of which changes is an improvement). We may observe that in #J# Lord Barnabas is at the king’s court, and in #I# Sir Grove is Lord Bengwill’s brother; but these points are not decisive, and the changes may be purely arbitrary. 4 shows traces of #E# 5 and #F# 3; 8 may have been suggested by something like #G# 4; and the last line of 14 looks like a corruption of #G# 29. This involves the supposition that the source of the ballad was a version somewhat different from any hitherto recovered; but ‘Little Musgrave’ is one of the best known of all ballads, and the variants must have been innumerable. On the whole, 1–8, 14, present a free treatment of ill-remembered matter; 9–13 are fairly well preserved; compare #E# 13–17.

* * * * *

O

‘Moss Groves,’ taken down in 1891 by Mr John Sampson, Liverpool, from Philip Murray, an old tinker, who learned the ballad in his boyhood from an old gypsy named Amos Rice.

1 There was four-and-twenty ladies Assembled at a ball, And who being there but the king’s wife, The fairest of them all.

2 She put her eye on the Moss Groves, Moss Groves put his eye upon she: ‘How would you like, my little Moss Groves, One night to tarry with me?’

3 ‘To sleep one night with you, fair lady, It would cause a wonderful sight; For I know by the ring upon your hand You are the king’s wife.’

4 ‘If I am the king’s wife, I mean him to beguile; For he has gone on a long distance, And won’t be back for a while.’

5 Up spoke his brother, An angry man was he; ‘Another night I’ll not stop in the castle Till my brother I’ll go see.’

6 When he come to his brother, He was in a hell of a fright: ‘Get up, get up, brother dear! There’s a man in bed with your wife.’

7 ‘If it’s true you tell unto me, A man I’ll make of thee; If it’s a lie you tell unto me, It’s slain thou shalt be.’

8 When he came to his hall, The bells begun to ring, And all the birds upon the bush They begun to sing.

9 ‘How do you like my covering-cloths? And how do you like my sheets? How do you like my lady fair, All night in her arms to sleep?’

10 ‘Your covering-cloths I like right well, Far better than your sheets; Far better than all your lady fair, All night in her arms to sleep.’

11 ‘Get up, get up now, little Moss Groves, Your clothing do put on; It shall never be said in all England That I drew on a naked man.

12 ‘There is two swords all in the castle That cost me very dear; You take the best, and I the worst, And let’s decide it here.’

13 The very first blow Moss Groves he gave, He wounded the king most sore; The very first blow the king gave him, Moss Groves he struck no more.

14 She lifted up his dying head And kissed his cheek and chin: ‘I’d sooner have you now, little Moss Groves, Than all their castles or kings.’

259 a. Insert under #C#: #d.# Printed and sold in Aldermary Church-yard, Bow Lane, London.

83. Child Maurice.

P. 266. #B.# Motherwell sent ‘Child Noryce’ to Sir Walter Scott in a letter dated 28 April, 1825 (Letters, XIV, No 94, Abbotsford). He changed several readings (as, orders to errand, in 6^4), and in three cases went back to original readings which he has altered in his manuscript. I am now convinced that the alterations made in the manuscript are not in general, if ever, corrections derived from the reciters, but Motherwell’s own improvements, and that the original readings should be adhered to.

86. Young Benjie.

P. 281. “From Jean Scott.” In the handwriting of William Laidlaw. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 29, Abbotsford.

Excepting the first stanza, the whole of this fragment (with slight changes) is found in the ballad in Scott’s Minstrelsy. That ballad has about twice as many verses, and the other half might easily have been supplied by the editor.

1 Fair Marjorie sat i her bower-door, Sewin her silken seam, When by then cam her false true-love, Gard a’ his bridles ring.

2 ‘Open, open, my true-love, Open an let me in;’ ‘I dare na, I dare na, my true-love, My brethren are within.’

3 ‘Ye lee, ye lee, my ain true-love, Sae loud I hear ye lee! For or I cam thrae Lothian banks They took fare-weel o me.’

4 The wind was loud, that maid was proud, An leath, leath to be dung, But or she wan the Lothian banks Her fair coulour was gane.

5 He took her up in his armis, An threw her in the lynn.

6 Up then spak her eldest brother, Said, What is yon I see? Sure, youn is either a drowned ladie Or my sister Marjorie.

7 Up then spak her second brother, Said, How will wi her ken? Up then spak her . . . brother, There a hinnie-mark on her chin.

8 About the midle o the night The cock began to craw; About the middle o the night The corpse began to thraw.

9 ‘O whae has doon ye wrang, sister? O whae has doon ye wrang?’

10 ‘Young Boonjie was the ae first man I laid my love upon; He was sae proud an hardie He threw me oer the lynne.’

11 ‘O shall we Boonjie head, sister? Or shall we Boonjie hang? Or shall we pyke out his twa grey eyes, An punish him or he gang?’

12 ‘O ye sanna Boonjie head, brother, Ye sana Boonjie hang; But ye maun pyke out his twa grey eyes, An punish him or he gang.’

13 ‘The ae best man about your house Maun wait young Boonjie on.’

3^3. _thare._

4 _should probably follow 5._

6^3. either a _substituted for_ some.

7^3. her second: second _struck out_. youngest?

8^2. The corpse: corpse _struck out_.

89. Fause Foodrage.

P. 297. #Danish.# Now printed as No 298 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, by Axel Olrik, the continuator of that noble collection, with the title ‘Svend af Vollersløv.’ There are fifteen old versions besides Tragica 18 (which is a compounded and partly ungenuine text) and the one recently printed by Kristensen, the basis of which is the copy in Tragica. ‘Ung Villum’ is Tragica 18 with two stanzas omitted.

298, III, 515 b. ‘Liden Engel’ is No 297 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser. There are eight old copies, and Kristensen has added five from recent tradition: the two here noted and three in Jyske Folkeminder, No 49, #A-C#, 201 ff. There is also a Swedish copy of 1693, printed in Dybeck’s Runa, 1844, p. 98, which I had not observed.

90. Jellon Grame.

P. 303 b, 513 b, III, 515 b. Robert le Diable in Luzel’s ballad, II, 24 f, when one year old, was as big as a child of five.

At the age of five, Cuchulinn sets out for his uncle’s court, where he performs prodigies of strength. In his seventh year he is received among the heroes, etc.: Zimmer, Göttingische Gelehrte Anzeigen, 1890, pp. 519–20. Merlin, when two years old, “speaks and goes,” and defends his mother before the justice: Arthour and Merlin, vv. 1069–70, ed. Turnbull for the Abbotsford Club, p. 41. Ögmundr when seven years old was as strong as a full-grown man: Örvar-Odds Saga, c. 19, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, II, 241. The three-nights-old son of Thórr and Járnsaxa removes the foot of Hrungnir from the neck of his father when all the gods have tried in vain. He also speaks. Skáldskaparmál, c. 17. “The Shee an Gannon was born in the morning, named at noon, and went in the evening to ask his daughter of the king of Erin:” Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, p. 114. Cf. p. 223, where a champion jumps out of the cradle. (G. L. K.)

91. Fair Mary of Wallington.

P. 309. #B.# “The ballad about Lady Livingston appears to be founded on a truth; her fate is mentioned by Sir R. Gordon. Only her mother, Lady Huntley, is made a queen; which it was natural enough in a Highland poet to do.” Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe to Sir Walter Scott, Letters, XV, No 231, Abbotsford, 1825 or 26.

What Sir Robert Gordon says is: “In July 1616 yeirs, Elizabeth Gordoun, Ladie of Livingstoun (wyff to the Lord Livingstoun, now Earle of Lithgow), daughter to the Marquis of Huntly, died in chyld-bed, at Edinburgh, of a son called George, who is now Lord Livingstoun.” (Genealogy of the Earls of Sutherland, p. 335.) The characteristic particulars are wanting.

#D# is also in Kinloch MSS, V, 363, in the youthful handwriting of J. H. Burton, and is probably the original copy. The differences from the text of #D#, p. 314, except spellings, are these:

1^1, it was. 1^3, and me.

93. Lamkin.

P. 321, note *. See further in Notes and Queries, First Series, II, 519; V, 32, 112, 184, 355.

321 ff., 513.

* * * * *

X

‘Lamkin,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 133, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1 Lamkin was as good a mason As ever liftit stane; He built to the laird o Lariston, But payment gat he nane.

2 Oft he came, an ay he came, To that good lord’s yett, But neither at dor nor window Ony entrance could get.

3 Till ae wae an weary day Early he came, An it fell out on that day That good lord was frae hame.

4 He bade steek dor an window, An prick them to the gin, Nor leave a little wee hole, Else Lamkin wad be in.

5 Noorice steekit dor an window, She steekit them to the gin; But she left a little wee hole That Lamkin might win in.

6 ‘O where’s the lady o this house?’ Said cruel Lamkin; ‘She’s up the stair sleepin,’ Said fause noorice then.

7 ‘How will we get her down the stair?’ Said cruel Lamkin; ‘We’l stogg the baby i the cradle,’ Said fause noorice then.

8 He stoggit, and she rockit, Till a’ the floor swam, An a’ the tors o the cradle Red wi blude ran.

9 ‘O still my son, noorise, O still him wi the kane;’ ‘He winna still, madam, Till Lariston come hame.’

10 ‘O still my son, noorice, O still him wi the knife;’ ‘I canna still him, madam, If ye sude tak my life.’

11 ‘O still my soon, noorice, O still him wi the bell;’ ‘He winna still, madam, Come see him yoursel.’

12 Wae an weary rase she up, Slowly pat her on Her green claethin o the silk, An slowly came she down.

13 The first step she steppit, It was on a stone; The first body she saw Was cruel Lamkin.

14 ‘O pity, pity, Lamkin, Hae pity on me!’ ‘Just as meikle pity, madam, As ye paid me o my fee.’

15 ‘I’ll g’ye a peck o good red goud, Streekit wi the wand; An if that winna please ye, I’ll heap it wi my hand.

16 ‘An if that winna please ye, O goud an o fee, I’ll g’ye my eldest daughter, Your wedded wife to be.’

17 ‘Gae wash the bason, lady, Gae wash’t an mak it clean, To kep your mother’s heart’s-blude, For she’s of noble kin.’

18 ‘To kep my mother’s heart’s-blude I wad be right wae; O tak mysel, Lamkin, An let my mother gae.’

19 ‘Gae wash the bason, noorice, Gae wash’t an mak it clean, To kep your lady’s heart’s-blude, For she’s o noble kin.’

20 ‘To wash the bason, Lamkin, I will be right glad, For mony, mony bursen day About her house I’ve had.’

21 But oh, what dule an sorrow Was about that lord’s ha, When he fand his lady lyin As white as driven snaw!

22 O what dule an sorrow Whan that good lord cam in, An fand his young son murderd, I the chimley lyin!

9^2. kane. kame, #B# 13^2. But _cf._ wand, #A# 16^2 #J# 10^2, #M# 3^2.

95. The Maid freed from the Gallows.

P. 346, III, 516 a. Add ‘Leggenda Napitina’ (still sung by the sailors of Pizzo); communicated to La Calabria, June 15, 1889, p. 74, by Salvatore Mele; Canto Marinaresco di Nicotera, the same, September 15, 1890. A wife is rescued by her husband.

347 b. #Swedish.# ‘Den bortsålda,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 22, No 6, _a_, _b_, _c_.

349 b, 514 a, III, 516 b, and especially 517 a. A wounded soldier calls to mother, sister, father, brother for a drink of water, and gets none; calls to his love, and she brings it: Waldau, Böhmische Granaten, II, 57, No 81.

* * * * *

I

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 127, Abbotsford. Sent to John Leyden, by whom and when does not appear.

1 ‘Hold your tongue, Lord Judge,’ she says, ‘Yet hold it a little while; Methinks I see my ain dear father Coming wandering many a mile.

2 ‘O have you brought me gold, father? Or have you brought me fee? Or are you come to save my life From off this gallows-tree?’

3 ‘I have not brought you gold, daughter, Nor have I brought you fee, But I am come to see you hangd, As you this day shall be.’

[“The verses run thus untill she has seen her mother, her brother, and her sister likewise arrive, and then

Methinks I see my ain dear lover, etc.”]

4 ‘I have not brought you gold, true-love, Nor yet have I brought fee, But I am come to save thy life From off this gallows-tree.’

5 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, father,’ she says, ‘Gae hame and saw yer seed; And I wish not a pickle of it may grow up, But the thistle and the weed.

6 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, gae hame, mother, Gae hame and brew yer yill; And I wish the girds may a’ loup off, And the Deil spill a’ yer yill.

7 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, gae hame, brother, Gae hame and lie with yer wife; And I wish that the first news I may hear That she has tane your life.

8 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, sister,’ she says, ‘Gae hame and sew yer seam; I wish that the needle-point may break, And the craws pyke out yer een.’

* * * * *

J

Communicated by Dr George Birkbeck Hill, May 10, 1890, as learned forty years before from a schoolfellow, who came from the north of Somersetshire and sang it in the dialect of that region. Given from memory.

1 ‘Hold up, hold up your hands so high! Hold up your hands so high! For I think I see my own father Coming over yonder stile to me.

2 ‘Oh father, have you got any gold for me? Any money for to pay me free? To keep my body from the cold clay ground, And my neck from the gallows-tree?’

3 ‘Oh no, I’ve got no gold for thee, No money for to pay thee free, For I’ve come to see thee hangd this day, And hangëd thou shalt be.’

4 ‘Oh the briers, prickly briers, Come prick my heart so sore; If ever I get from the gallows-tree, I’ll never get there any more.’

[“The same verses are repeated, with mother, brother, and sister substituted for father. At last the sweetheart comes. The two first verses are the same, and the third and fourth as follows.”]

5 ‘Oh yes, I’ve got some gold for thee, Some money for to pay thee free; I’ll save thy body from the cold clay ground, And thy neck from the gallows-tree.’

6 ‘Oh the briers, prickly briers, Don’t prick my heart any more; For now I’ve got from the gallows-tree I’ll never get there any more.’

[“I do not know any title to this song except ‘Hold up, hold up your hands so high!’ It was by that title that we called for it.”]

Julius Krohn has lately made an important contribution to our knowledge of this ballad in an article in Virittäjä, II, 36–50, translated into German under the title ‘Das Lied vom Mädchen welches erlöst werden soll,’ Helsingfors, 1891. Professor Estlander had previously discussed the ballad in Finsk Tidskrift, X, 1881 (which I have not yet seen), and had sought to show that it was of Finnish origin, a view which Krohn disputes and refutes. There are nearly fifty Finnish versions. The curse with which #I# ends, and which is noted as occurring in Swedish #C# (compare also the Sicilian ballad), is never wanting in the Finnish, and is found also in the Esthonian copies.

96. The Gay Goshawk.

P. 356 a, III, 517 a. Add: (18) ‘La Fille dans la Tour,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 174 ; (19) ‘La belle dans la Tour,’ Pas de Calais, communicated by M. G. Doncieux to Revue des Traditions populaires, VI, 603 ; (20) ‘Belle Idoine,’ Questionnaire de Folklore, publié par la Société du Folklore Wallon, p. 79.

M. Doucieux has attempted a reconstruction of the text in Mélusine, V, 265 ff. He cites M. Gaston Paris as having lately pointed out a striking similitude between the first half of the French popular ballad and that of a little romance of Bele Ydoine composed in the twelfth century by Audefrois le Bastars (Bartsch, Altfranzösische Romanzen und Pastourellen, p. 59, No 57). This resemblance has, I suppose, occasioned the title of ‘Belle Idoine’ to be given editorially to No 20 above, for the name does not occur in the ballad.

356 b, III, 517 a. Add: ‘Au Jardin des Olives,’ Guillon, p. 83, ‘Dessous le Rosier blanc,’ Daymard, p. 171 (Les trois Capitaines). A girl feigns death to avoid becoming a king’s mistress, ‘Hertig Henrik och Konungen,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 117, No 37.

363. #E.# The following is the MS. copy, “of some antiquity,” from which #E# was in part constructed. (Whether it be the original or a transcript cannot be determined, but Mr Macmath informs me that the paper on which it is written “seems about the oldest sheet in the volume.”) The text was freely handled. ‘Lord William’ does not occur in it, but the name is found in another version which follows this.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 146 a, Abbotsford.