Part 68

P. 4 a. James Hogg, writing to Scott, June 30, [1802?] says: “I am surprised to find that the songs in your collection differ so widely from my mother’s.... ‘Jamie Telfer’ differs in many particulars.” (Letters, I, No. 44.) Scott’s remarks should have been cited from the edition of 1802, I, 91.

5. Mr Andrew Lang has obligingly called my attention to difficulties which attend the assumption that the Dodhead of the ballad is the place of that name in Selkirkshire. Jamie Telfer, st. 7, runs ten miles between Dodhead and Stobs, and this is far enough if help is to be timely; but he would have to run thirty if his Dodhead were in Selkirkshire. With succor not nearer than that, Telfer would soon have been harried out of existence. The distances are too great both for the English and the Scots. But there is a Dod south of the Teviot, not far from Skelfhill, which is some seven miles only from Stobs. (Dodhead is not entered here on the Ordnance map, “but Dodburn is just under Dodrig, and where there is a Dodburn there is ‘tied’ to be a Dodhead in this country.”) Turning from Stobs to Teviot, Telfer would come in due order to Coltherdscleugh, Branxholm, and Borthwick Water, without the loss of time which he would, on the other supposition, incur in passing and returning. (See a note, by Mr Lang, in Mrs G. R. Tomson’s Ballads of the North Countrie, 1888, p. 435.)

Several other matters are not quite clear. Catslockhill, for instance, seems to be misplaced. Mr Lang, a native of Ettrick valley, knows of no Catslack but that in Yarrow. Of this, Mr T. Craig-Brown (Selkirkshire, I, 21), who accepts Scott’s Dodhead, says, “A long ride, if Catslack is in Yarrow.”

191. Hughie Grame.

P. 8. #C.# Substitute for Scott’s Minstrelsy, etc., “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 87, Abbotsford. Add: #H.# ‘Hughie Grame,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 4. #I#. ‘Hughie Graeme,’ Wilkie’s MS., in “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 36.

P. 10 ff. For #C# substitute this, the original copy, as procured for Scott by William Laidlaw.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 87, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. “From Robert Laidlaw.”

1 Gude Lord Scroop’s to the huntin gane; He’s ridden oer monie a moss an muir, An he has grippit Hughie the Græme, For stealin o the bishop’s mare.

2 An they hae grippit Hughie the Græme, An brought him up thro Carlisle town; The lasses an lads they stood by the wa’s, Cryin, Hughie the Græme, thou’s no gae down!

3 They ha chosen a jury o men, The best that were i Coventry, An fifteen o them out a’ at anse, ‘Hughie the Græme, thou art guiltie.’

4 Than up bespak him gude Lord Hume, As he sat at the judge’s knee; ‘Twentie white ousen, my gude lord, If ye’ll grant Hughie the Græme to me.’

5 ‘O no, no, no, my gude Lord Hume, For sooth an so it mauna be; For war there but twae Græms o the name, They sould be hangit a’ for me.’

6 ’Twas up than spak her gude Lady Hume, As she sat by the judge’s knee; ‘A peck o white pennies, my gude lord, If ye’ll grant Hughie the Græme to me.’

7 ‘O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume, For sooth an so it sal na be; For war there but twae Greames of the name, They soud be hangit a’ for me.’

8 ‘If I be guilty,’ said Hughie the Graeme, ‘Of me my friends sal hae nae lack;’ An he has luppen fifteen feet an three, An his hands they war tyed ahint his back.

9 He’s lookit oer his left shouther, To see what he coud see, An there he saw his auld father commin, An he was weepin bitterlie.

10 ‘O had yer tongue, my father,’ he says, ‘An see that ye dinna weep for me, For they may ravish me o my life, But they canna banish me thrae the heavens hie.

11 ‘Fare ye weel, Maggie, my wife; The last time I came oer the muir, It was you berievt me o my life, An wi the bishop playd the w[hore].’

* * * * *

H

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 4, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.

1 Lairds and lords a hounting gane, Out-over hills and valleys clear, And there they met Hughie Grame, Was riding on the bishop’s mare.

2 And they have tied him hand and foot, And they have carried him to Stirling town; The lads and lasses there about Crys, Hughie Grame, you are a lown!

3 ‘If I be a lown,’ says he, ‘I am sure my friends has had bad luck;’ We that he jumpted fifteen foot, With his hands tied behind his back.

4 Out and spoke Laidy Whiteford, As she sat by the bishop’s knee; ‘Four-and-twenty milk-kie I’ll give to thee, If Hughie Grame you will let free.’

5 ‘Hold your tongue, my laidy Whiteford, And of your pleading now lay by; If fifty Grames were in his coat, Upon my honour he shall die.’

6 Out and spoke Lord Whiteford, As he sat by the bishop’s knee; ‘Four-and-twenty stots I’ll give thee, If Hughie Grame you will let free.’

7 ‘Hold your tongue, my lord Whiteford, And of your pleading now lay by; If twenty Grames were in his coat, Upon my honour he shall die.’

8 ‘You may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes through the mu[ir], She was the causer of my death, For with the bishop [she] plaid the whore.

9 ‘You may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes through the town, She was the causer of my death, For with the bishop [she] plaid the lown.’

10 He looked oer his left shoulder, To see what he could spy or see, And there he spied his old father, Was weeping bitterly.

11 ‘Hold your tongue, my dear father, And of your weeping now lay by; They may rub me of my sweet life, But not from me the heavence high.

12 ‘You may give my brother John The sword that’s of the mettle clear, That he may come the morn at four o clock To see me pay the bishop’s mare.

13 ‘You may give my brother James The sword that’s of the mettle brown; Tell him to come the morn at four o clock To see his brother Hugh cut down.’

14 Up and spoke his oldest son, As he sat by his nurse’s knee; ‘If ere I come to be a man, Revenged for my father [’s] death I’ll be.’

* * * * *

I

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 36, Abbotsford, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813–15, p. 9; “from a young girl, a Miss Nancy Brockie, Bemerside, who learned it from an old woman called Maron Miller, Threepwood.” Another copy, in Wilkie’s hand, No 86 of the same.

1 Ye dukes and lords that hunt and go Out-over moors and mountains clear, And they have taen up poor Hughie Græme. For stealing of the bishope’s mare. Fall all the day, fall all the daudy, Fall all the day, fall the daudy O.

2 They hae tied him hand and foot, They hae led him thro the town; The lads and lassies they all met, Cried, Hughie Græme, ye’ve playd the loon!

3 ‘O if that I had playd the loon, My friends of me they hae bad luck;’ With that he jumped fifteen feet, Wi his hands tied fast behind his back.

4 Up then spoke my lady Whiteford, As she sat by the bishope’s knee; ‘Five hundred white pence I’ll give thee, If you let Hughie Græme go free.’

5 ‘I’ll hae nane of your hundred pense, And your presents you may lay by; For if Græme was ten times in his coat, By my honour, Hugh shall die.’

6 Up then spoke my lord Whiteford, As he sat by the bishope’s knee; ‘Five score of good stotts I’ll thee give, If you’ll sett Hughie Græme but free.’

7 ‘I’ll have none of your hundred stotts, And all your presents you may keep to yoursell; ‘For if Græme was ten times in his coat Hugh shall die, and die he shall.’

8 Then they hae tied him hand and foot, And they hae led [him] to the gallows high; The lads and lassies they all met, Cried, Hughie Græme, thou art to die!

9 Now’s he looked oer his left shoulder, All for to see what he could spy, And there he saw his father dear, Stood weeping there most bitterlie.

10 ‘O hold your tongue now, father,’ he said, ‘And of your weeping lai’d now by; For they can rob me of my life, But they cannot rob me of the heavens high.

11 ‘But you must give to my brother John The sword that’s bent in the middle clear, And tell him to come at twelve o clock And see me pay the bishope’s mare.

12 ‘And you may give to my brother James The sword that’s bent in the middle brown, And tell him to come at four o clock And see his brother Hugh cut down.

13 ‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes thro the town, She was the occasion of my death And wi the bishope playd the loon.

14 ‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes thro the fair, She was the occasion of my death, And from the bishope stole the mare.’

* * * * *

#A.#

_A copy in_ The Northern Garland, Newcastle Garlands, No 1, Bell Ballads, Abbotsford Library, P. 5, _has these readings, some of which appear to be editorial_:

2^2. after him for some time.

4^4. shall soon.

11^3. my fault.

16^2. down low.

22^3. cause and the loss.

#H.#

8^3, 9^3. the casurer, the casure. _Perhaps we should read_ occasion: _cf._ #I# 13^3, 14^3.

9^4. plaid the whore; _but cf._ #E# 13^4, #I# 13^4.

#I.#

2^3. they (all met) ran in flocks: _cf._ 8^3.

3^1. Of that: _see No_ 86, _below_.

5^3. in==his coat==ocent (_sic_).

10^2. (laid==lay it.)

_No 86, the other copy of #I#, has variations which seem to be mostly, if not wholly, editorial._

1^3. taken Hughie Græme.

2^3. lassies ran in flocks.

3^1. O if. 3^2. has had.

3^4. And his.

4^3. I will give.

4^4. ye’ll let.

5^2. And of your.

6^2. at the.

6^4. ye’ll let: go free.

7^1. _Above_ hundred _is written_ five score.

7^2. And of your presents ye may lay by.

7^4. By my honour, Hugh shall die, _bracketed with the reading in the text_.

8^2. And led him to.

9^1. Now he’s.

9^3. he spied.

10^1. now, father dear: he said _wanting_.

10^2. laid.

11^1. may give my.

12^1. give my.

13^3, 14^3. That she’s.

193. The Death of Parcy Reed.

P. 24 a. #B.# Telfer sent “the real verses” to Sir Walter Scott. It appears, as might be surmised, that one half of #B# is of his own making. 1–3==#B# 4, 5, 7; 4, 5==#A# 4, 18; 6==#B# 14; 7==#B# 15, #A# 6; 8==#A# 7, #B# 16; 9–14==#B# 18–23; 15==#A# 15; 16==#B# 25; 17–20==#B# 38, 39, 33, 41.

* * * * *

B

Letters addressed to Sir Walter Scott, XIII, No 73, Abbotsford. “Parcy Reed, exactly as it is sung by an old woman of the name of Cathrine Hall, living at Fairloans, in the remotest corner of Oxnam parish:” James Telfer, Browndeanlaws, May 18, 1824.

1 O Parcy Reed has Crozer taen, And has deliverd him to the law; But Crozer says he’ll do warse than that, For he’ll gar the tower of the Troughend fa.

2 And Crozer says he will do warse, He will do warse, if warse can be; For he’ll make the bairns a’ fatherless, And then the land it may lie lea.

3 O Parcy Reed has ridden a raid, But he had better have staid at hame; For the three fause Ha’s of Girsenfield Alang with him he has them taen.

4 He’s hunted up, and he’s hunted down, He’s hunted a’ the water of Reed, Till wearydness has on him taen, I the Baitinghope he’s faen asleep.

5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And the fause, fause Ha’s o Girsenfield, They’ll never be trowed nor trusted again.

6 They’ve taen frae him his powther-bag, And they’ve put water i his lang gun; They’ve put the sword into the sheathe That out again it’ll never come.

7 ‘Awaken ye, awaken ye, Parcy Reed, For I do fear ye’ve slept owre lang; For yonder are the five Crozers, A coming owre by the hinging-stane.’

8 ‘If they be five and we be four, If that ye will stand true to me, If every man ye will take one, Ye surely will leave two to me.

9 ‘O turn, O turn, O Johny Ha, O turn now, man, and fight wi me; If ever ye come to Troughend again, A good black nag I will gie to thee; He cost me twenty pounds o gowd Atween my brother John and me.’

10 ‘I winna turn, I canna turn; I darena turn and fight wi thee; For they will find out Parcy Reed, And then they’ll kill baith thee and me.’

11 ‘O turn, O turn now, Willie Ha, O turn, O man, and fight wi me, And if ever ye come to the Troughend again A yoke of owsen I will gie thee.’

12 ‘I winna turn, I canna turn; I darena turn and fight wi thee; For they will find out Parcy Reed, And they will kill baith thee and me.’

13 ‘O turn, O turn, O Thommy Ha, O turn now, man, and fight wi me; If ever ye come to the Troughend again, My daughter Jean I’ll gie to thee.’

14 ‘I winna turn, I darena turn; I winna turn and fight with thee; For they will find out Parcy Reed, And then they’ll kill baith thee and me.’

15 ‘O woe be to ye, traitors a’! I wish England ye may never win; Ye’ve left me in the field to stand, And in my hand an uncharged gun.

16 ‘Ye’ve taen frae me my powther-bag, And ye’ve put water i my lang gun; Ye’ve put the sword into the sheath That out again it’ll never come.

17 ‘O fare ye weel, my married wife! And fare ye weel, my brother John! That sits into the Troughend ha With heart as black as any stone.

18 ‘O fare ye weel, my married wife! And fare ye weel now, my sons five! For had ye been wi me this day I surely had been man alive.

19 ‘O fare ye weel, my married wife! And fare ye weel now, my sons five! And fare ye weel, my daughter Jean! I loved ye best ye were born alive.

20 ‘O some do ca me Parcy Reed, And some do ca me Laird Troughend, But it’s nae matter what they ca me, My faes have made me ill to ken.

21 ‘The laird o Clennel wears my bow, The laird o Brandon wears my brand; Whae ever rides i the Border side Will mind the laird o the Troughend.’

9^2. wi me. along with _in the margin_.

13^3. ever I.

“There is,” says Telfer in his letter, “a place in Reed water called Deadwood Haughs, where the country-people still point out a stone where the unshriven soul of Parcy used to frequent in the shape of a blue hawk, and it is only a few years since he disappeared.... The ballad of Parcy Reed has a tune of its own.... It is a very mournfull air.”

196. The Fire of Frendraught.

P. 39. Miscellanea Curiosa, MS., vol. vi, Abbotsford Library, #A.# 3, has for its last piece “The Burning of the Tower of Frendraught, an Historical Ballad,” in forty-eight stanzas. It begins:

O passd ye by the Bog of Gicht? Heard ye the cry of grief and care? Or in the bowers of Rothymay Saw ye the lady tear her hair?

“A Satyre against Frendraught, in which ware burned the Vicount of Melgum, Laird of Rothiemay, and sundrie other gentlemen, in anno 1630,” 218 lines, MS. in a seventeenth-century hand, is No 1 in a volume with the title Scottish Tracts, Abbotsford Library, B. 7. Mr. Macmath suggests that this may be the “flyte” which Sharpe and Sir W. Scott thought of printing.

200. The Gypsy Laddie.

IV, 61 b. ‘Johnnie Faa’ in [Wm Chambers’s] Exploits . . . of the most remarkable Scottish Gypsies or Tinklers, 3d ed., 1823, p. 17, is #B a#. The ballad is not in the second edition, 1821, reprinted in 1886. (W. Macmath.)

201. Bessy Bell and Mary Gray.

P. 75 b., first line. Say: #c.# Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1830, XI, 39, 1833, etc.

203. The Baron of Brackley.

P. 83, note †.

I prefer to say, two or more events. The citations already given in this work may possibly cover four distinct tragedies, and William Anderson, in his Genealogy and Surnames, 1865, p. 104, tells us (but without stating his authority) there was “a line of nine barons, all of whom, in the unruly times in which they lived, died violent deaths.” The ballad may have commenced originally: “Inverawe (==Inner-Aw) cam doun Deeside.” (W. Macmath.)

208. Lord Derwentwater.

P. 117 b. The omen of nose-bleed occurs in the Breton ballad ‘Ervoan Camus,’ Luzel, Soniou, I, 216.

211. Bewick and Graham.

P. 144 a. Scott’s improved copy first appeared in the third edition of the Minstrelsy, 1806, II, 277.

214. The Braes o Yarrow.

Q

P. 164 ff. ‘The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,’ Kidson’s Traditional Tunes, etc., 1891, p. 21. From Mrs Calvert, of Gilnockie, Eskdale; obtained by her on the braes of Yarrow from her grandmother, Tibbie Stuel. (Compare, especially, #J-L#.)

1 There lived a lady in the West, I neer could find her marrow; She was courted by nine gentlemen, And a ploughboy-lad in Yarrow.

2 These nine sat drinking at the wine, Sat drinking wine in Yarrow; They made a vow among themselves To fight for her in Yarrow.

3 She washed his face, she kaimed his hair, As oft she ‘d done before, O, She made him like a knight sae bright, To fight for her in Yarrow.

4 As he walked up yon high, high hill, And down by the holmes of Yarrow, There he saw nine armëd men, Come to fight with him in Yarrow.

5 ‘There ‘s nine of you, there ‘s one of me, It’s an unequal marrow; But I’ll fight you all one by one, On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’

6 Three he slew, and three they flew, And three he wounded sorely, Till her brother John he came in beyond, And pierced his heart most foully.

7 ‘Go home, go home, thou false young man, And tell thy sister Sarah That her true-love John lies dead and gone On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’

8 ‘O father dear, I dreamed a dream, I’m afraid it will bring sorrow; I dreamed I was pulling the heather-bell In the dowie dens of Yarrow.’

9 ‘O daughter dear, I read your dream, I doubt it will prove sorrow; For your true-love John lies dead and gone On the dowie dens of Yarrow.’

10 As she walked up yon high, high hill, And down by the holmes of Yarrow, There she saw her true-love John, Lying pale and dead on Yarrow.

11 Her hair it being three quarters long— The colour it was yellow— She wrapped it round his middle sma, And carried him hame to Yarrow.

12 ‘O father dear, you’ve seven sons, You may wed them a’ tomorrow, But a fairer flower I never saw Than the lad I loved in Yarrow.’

13 The fair maid being great with child, It filled her heart with sorrow; She died within her lover’s arms, Between that day and morrow.

6^{1,2}. Three _misprinted_ there.

8^1, 9^1, 12^1. Oh.

* * * * *

R

Macmath MS. p. 91. Inserted in a copy of The Scottish Ballads . . . by Robert Chambers, 1829, p. 145, latterly belonging to Rev. Dr James C. Burns, Free Church, Kirkliston.

1 There were three lords drinking at the wine In the Leader Haughs of Yarrow: ‘Shall we go play at cards and dice, As we have done before, O? Or shall we go play at the single sword, In the Leader Haughs of Yarrow?’

* * * * * *

2 Three he wounded, and five he slew, As he had [done] before, O, But an English lord lap from a bush, And he proved all the sorrow; He had a spear three quarters long, And he thrust his body thorogh.

* * * * * *

3 ‘I dreamed . . . . I wis it prove nae sorrow! I dreamed I was puing the apples green In the dowie howms o Yarrow.’

4 ‘O sister, sister, I’ll read your dream, And I’ll read it in sorrow; Ye may gae bring hame your ain true-love, For he’s sleepin sound in Yarrow.’

5 She sought him east, she sought him west, She sought him all the forest thorogh; She found him asleep at the middle yett, In the dowie howms o Yarrow.

6 Her hair it was three quarters lang, And the colour of it was yellow; She’s bound it round his middle waist, And borne him hame from Yarrow.

1^{2,6}. Leader Haughs. “Obviously nonsense, but so my minstreless sung it.”

3^1. _The rest torn away._

3^3. apples _substituted for_ heather _struck out_.

217. The Broom of Cowdenknows.

P. 192. Mrs Greenwood, of London, had heard (presumably at Longnewton, near Jedburgh) “the old Cowdenknows, where, instead of the Laird of the Oakland hills, it is the Laird of the Hawthorn-wide.” Letters addressed to Sir W. Scott, I, No 189, May 27, [1806.]

221. Katharine Jaffray.

P. 216 a. Scott’s ‘Katherine Janfarie’ was printed in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, I, 238.

222. Bonny Baby Livingston.

P. 231 f. “I can get a copy of a ballad the repeating verse of which is:

The Highlands are no for me, The Highlands are no for me; But gin ye wad my favour win Than carry me to Dundee.

His name is sometimes called Glendinnin, and his residence the same: however, I think it is a Highland ballad, from other circumstances.” W. Laidlaw to Sir W. Scott, September 11, 1802: Letters, I, No 73. Compare #D#.

225. Rob Roy.

P. 243. The Harris MS. has one stanza, fol. 27 b, from Mrs Isdale, Dron, ‘Robin Oigg’s Elopement.’

An they hae brocht her to a bed, An they hae laid her doun, An they’ve taen aff her petticoat, An stript her o her goun.

226. Lizie Lindsay.

P. 255. Communicated by Mr Walker, of Aberdeen, as procured October 5, 1891, from George Nutchell, Ground Officer at Edzell Castle, who derived it from his step-grandmother Mrs Lamond (Nelly Low), fifty-eight years ago, she being at the time eighty years old.

1 ‘Will ye gang to the Highlands, Lizzie Lindsay? Will ye gang to the Highlands wi me? Will ye gang to the Highlands, Lizzie Lindsay, My bride an my darling to be?’

2 She turned her round on her heel, And a very loud laugh gaed she: ‘I’d like to ken whaur I’m ganging, An wha I am gaun to gang wi.’

3 ‘My name is Donald Macdonald, I’ll never think shame nor deny; My father he is an old shepherd, My mither she is an old dey.

4 ‘Will ye gang to the Highlands, bonnie Lizzie? Will ye gang to the Highlands wi me? For ye shall get a bed o green rashes, A pillow an a covering o grey.’

5 Upraise then the bonny young lady, An drew till her stockings an sheen, An packd up her claise in fine bundles, An away wi young Donald she’s gaen.

6 When they cam near the end o their journey, To the house o his father’s milk-dey, He said, Stay still there, Lizzie Lindsay, Till I tell my mither o thee.

7 ‘Now mak us a supper, dear mither, The best o yer curds an green whey, An mak up a bed o green rashes, A pillow an covering o grey.

8 ‘Rise up, rise up, Lizzie Lindsay, Ye have lain oer lang i the day; Ye should hae been helping my mither To milk her ewes an her kye.’

9 Out then spak the bonnie young lady, As the saut tears drapt frae her ee, ‘I wish I had bidden at hame; I can neither milk ewes or kye.’

10 ‘Rise up, rise up, Lizzie Lindsay, There is mair ferlies to spy; For yonder’s the castle o Kingussie, An it stands high an dry.’

11 ‘Ye are welcome here, Lizzie Lindsay, The flower o all your kin, For ye shall be lady o Kingussie, An ye shall get Donald my son.’

243. James Harris.

P. 360 a. #B.# There is another, and perhaps slightly earlier, copy of The Rambler’s Garland, British Museum, 11621, c. 2 (64), with a few trifling differences, for better or worse.

251. Lang Johnny More.

P. 396. ‘Bennachie,’ by Alex. Inkson McConnochie, Aberdeen, 1890, has a copy of this ballad, p. 66, longer by a few verses and with some verbal differences. But as this copy has been edited, though “without violence having been done,” the variations, in themselves quite immaterial, do not demand registration.