10. Then Dick's com'd on to lord and master, And I wat a drerie fool was he; 'Hald thy tongue, my fool,' he says, 'For I may not stand to jest with thee.'

11. 'Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord,' quo' Dickie, 'For nae such jesting 'grees with me; Liddesdaile has been in my house this last night, And they have tane my three kyne from me.'

12. 'But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwel, To be your poor fool and your leel, Unless ye give me leave, my lord, To go to Liddisdale and steal.'

13. 'To give thee leave, my fool,' he says, 'Thou speaks against mine honour and me; Unless thou give me thy troth and thy right hand, Thou'l steal frae nane but them that sta' from thee.'

14. 'There is my trouth and my right hand; My head shal hing on Hairibie, I'le never crose Carlele sands again, If I steal frae a man but them that sta' frae me.'

15. Dickie has tane leave at lord and master, And I wat a merrie fool was he; He has bought a bridle and a pair of new spurs, And has packed them up in his breek-thigh.

16. Then Dickie's come on for Puddinburn, Even as fast as he may drie; Dickie's come on for Puddinburn, Where there was thirty Armstrongs and three.

17. 'What's this com'd on me!' quo' Dicke, 'What meakle wae's this happen'd on me,' quo' he, 'Where here is but an innocent fool, And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!'

18. Yet he's com'd up to the hall among them all; So wel he became his courtisie; 'Well may ye be, my good Laird's Jock, But the deil bless all your companie!

19. 'I'm come to plain of your man Fair Johnie Armstrong, And syne his billie Willie,' quo' he; 'How they have been in my house this last night, And they have tane my three ky frae me.'

20. Quo' Johnie Armstrong, 'We'll him hang;' 'Nay,' then quo' Willie, 'we'll him slae;' But up bespake another young man, 'We'le nit him in a four-nooked sheet, Give him his burden of batts, and lett him gae.'

21. Then up bespake the good Laird's Jock, The best falla in the companie; 'Sitt thy way down a little while, Dicke, And a peice of thine own cow's hough I'l give to thee.'

22. But Dickie's heart it grew so great That never a bitt of it he dought to eat; But Dickie was warr of ane auld peat-house, Where there al the night he thought for to sleep.

23. Then Dickie was warr of that auld peat-house, Where there al the night he thought for to ly; And a' the prayers the poor fool pray'd was, 'I wish I had a mense for my own three kye!'

24. Then it was the use of Puddinburn, And the house of Mangertoun, all haile! These that came not at the first call They gott no more meat till the next meall.

25. The lads, that hungry and aevery was, Above the door-head they flang the key. Dickie took good notice to that; Says, 'There's a bootie younder for me.'

26. Then Dickie's gane into the stable, Where there stood thirty horse and three; He has ty'd them a' with St. Mary knot, All these horse but barely three.

27. He has ty'd them a' with St. Mary knot, All these horse but barely three; He has loupen on one, taken another in his hand, And out at the door and gane is Dickie.

28. Then on the morn, when the day grew light, The shouts and cryes rose loud and high; 'What's that theife?' quo' the good Laird's Jock, 'Tel me the truth and the verity.

29. 'What's that theife?' quo' the good Laird's Jock, 'See unto me ye do not lie. Dick o' the Cow has been in the stable this last nicht, And has my brother's horse and mine frae me.'

30. 'Ye wad never be tel'd it,' quo' the Laird's Jock, 'Have ye not found my tales fu' leel? Ye wad never out of England bide, Till crooked and blind and a' wad steal.'

31. 'But will thou lend me thy bay?' Fair Johne Armstrong can say, 'There's nae mae horse loose in the stable but he; And I'le either bring ye Dick o' the Kow again. Or the day is come that he must die.'

32. 'To lend thee my bay,' the Laird's Jock can say, 'He's both worth gold and good monie; Dick o' the Kow has away twa horse, I wish no thou should make him three.'

33. He has tane the Laird's jack on his back, The twa-handed sword that hang leugh by his thigh; He has tane the steel cap on his head, And on is he to follow Dickie.

34. Then Dickie was not a mile off the town, I wat a mile but barely three, Till John Armstrong has o'ertane Dick o' the Kow, Hand for hand on Cannobie lee.

35. 'Abide thee, bide now, Dickie than, The day is come that thou must die.' Dickie looked o'er his left shoulder, 'Johnie, has thou any mo in thy company?

36. 'There is a preacher in our chapell, And a' the lee-lang day teaches he; When day is gane, and night is come, There's never a word I mark but three.

37. 'The first and second's Faith and Conscience, The third is, Johnie, Take head of thee! But what faith and conscience had thou, traitor, When thou took my three kye frae me?

38. 'And when thou had tane my three kye, Thou thought in thy heart thou was no wel sped; But thou sent thy billie Willie o'er the know, And he took three co'erlets off my wife's bed.'

39. Then Johne lett a spear fa' leugh by his thigh, Thought well to run the innocent through, But the powers above was more than his, He ran but the poor fool's jerkin through.

40. Together they ran or ever they blan; This was Dickie the fool, and hee; Dickie could not win to him with the blade of the sword, But he fel'd him with the plummet under the eye.

41. Now Dickie has fel'd Fair Johne Armstrong, The prettiest man in the south countrey; 'Gramercie,' then can Dickie say, 'I had twa horse, thou has made me three.'

42. He has tane the laird's jack of his back, The twa-handed sword that hang leugh by his thigh; He has tane the steel cap off his head; 'Johnie, I'le tel my master I met with thee.'

43. When Johne waken'd out of his dream, I wat a drery man was he; 'Is thou gane now, Dickie, than? The shame gae in thy company!

44. 'Is thou gane now, Dickie, than? The shame go in thy companie! For if I should live this hundred year, I shal never fight with a fool after thee.'

45. Then Dickie comed home to lord and master, Even as fast as he may drie. 'Now, Dickie, I shal neither eat meat nor drink Till high hanged that thou shall be!'

46. 'The shame speed the liars, my lord!' quo' Dickie, 'That was no the promise ye made to me; For I'd never gane to Liddesdale to steal Till that I sought my leave at thee.'

47. 'But what gart thou steal the Laird's Jock's horse? And, limmer, what gart thou steal him?' quo' he; 'For lang might thou in Cumberland dwelt Or the Laird's Jock had stoln ought frae thee.'

48. 'Indeed I wat ye lee'd, my lord, And even so loud as I hear ye lie; I wan him frae his man, Fair Johne Armstrong, Hand for hand on Cannobie lee.

49. 'There's the jack was on his back, The twa-handed sword that hung leugh by his thigh; There's the steel cap was on his head; I have a' these takens to lett you see.'

50. 'If that be true thou to me tels (I trow thou dare not tel a lie), I'le give thee twenty pound for the good horse, Wel tel'd in thy cloke-lap shall be.

51. 'And I'le give thee one of my best milk-kye To maintain thy wife and children three; And that may be as good, I think, As ony twa o' thine might be.'

52. 'The shame speed the liars, my lord!' quo' Dickie; 'Trow ye ay to make a fool of me? I'le either have thirty pound for the good horse, Or else he's gae to Mattan fair wi' me.'

53. Then he has given him thirty pound for the good horse, All in gold and good monie: He has given him one of his best milk-kye To maintain his wife and children three.

54. Then Dickie's come down through Carlile town, Even as fast as he may drie. The first of men that he with mett Was my lord's brother, Bailife Glazenberrie.

55. 'Well may ye be, my good Ralph Scrupe!' 'Welcome, my brother's fool!' quo' he; 'Where did thou gett Fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?' 'Where did I get him but steal him,' quo' he.

56. 'But will thou sell me Fair Johnie Armstrong's horse? And, billie, will thou sell him to me?' quo' he; 'Ay, and [thou] tel me the monie on my cloke-lap, For there's not one farthing I'le trust thee.'

57. 'I'le give thee fifteen pound for the good horse, Wel told on thy cloke-lap shal be; And I'le give thee one of my best milk-kye To maintain thy wife and thy children three.'

58. 'The shame speed the liars, my lord!' quo' Dicke, 'Trow ye ay to make a fool of me?' quo' he; 'I'le either have thirty pound for the good horse. Or else he's to Mattan Fair with me.'

59. He has given him thirty pound for the good horse, All in gold and good monie; He has given him one of his best milk-kye To maintain his wife and children three.

60. Then Dickie lap a loup on high, And I wat a loud laughter leugh he; 'I wish the neck of the third horse were browken, For I have a better of my own, and onie better can be.'

61. Then Dickie com'd hame to his wife again. Judge ye how the poor fool he sped! He has given her three score of English pounds For the three auld co'erlets was tane off her bed.

62. 'Hae, take thee there twa as good kye, I trow, as all thy three might be; And yet here is a white-footed naigg, I think he'le carry both thee and me.

63. 'But I may no langer in Cumberland dwell; The Armstrongs they'le hang me high.' But Dickie has tane leave at lord and master, And Burgh under Stanemuir there dwels Dickie.

[Annotations: 1.3: 'lidder,' lazy. 2.2: 'billie,' brother. 2.3: 'feed,' feud. 5.2: 'know,' hillock. 20.5: 'burden of batts,' all the blows he can bear. 22.2: 'dought,' was able. 25.1: 'aevery,' ravenous. 26.3: 'St. Mary knot,' a triple knot. 32.4: The copy reads 'should no make.' 33.1: 'jack,' jerkin. 40.1: 'blan,' stopped. 47.2: 'limmer,' rascal. 56.3: I have inserted 'thou' to complete the sense; 'and,' here and below, 60.4, meaning 'if.']



SIR HUGH IN THE GRIME'S DOWNFALL

The Text given here is comparatively a late one, from the Roxburghe collection (iii. 456). An earlier broadside, in the same and other collections, gives a longer but curiously corrupted version, exhibiting such perversions as 'Screw' for 'Scroop,' and 'Garlard' for 'Carlisle.'

The Story in its full form relates that Sir Hugh in the Grime (Hughie Graeme or Graham) stole a mare from the Bishop of Carlisle, by way of retaliation for the Bishop's seduction of his wife. He was pursued by Lord Scroop, taken, and conveyed to Carlisle and hanged.

Scott suggested that Hugh Graham may have been one of four hundred Borderers accused to the Bishop of Carlisle of various murders and thefts about 1548.

SIR HUGH IN THE GRIME'S DOWNFALL

1. Good Lord John is a hunting gone, Over the hills and dales so far, For to take Sir Hugh in the Grime, For stealing of the bishop's mare. He derry derry down

2. Hugh in the Grime was taken then And carried to Carlisle town; The merry women came out amain, Saying, 'The name of Grime shall never go down.'

3. O then a jury of women was brought, Of the best that could be found; Eleven of them spoke all at once, Saying 'The name of Grime shall never go down.'

4. And then a jury of men was brought, More the pity for to be! Eleven of them spoke all at once, Saying 'Hugh in the Grime, you are guilty.'

5. Hugh in the Grime was cast to be hang'd, Many of his friends did for him lack; For fifteen foot in the prisin he did jump, With his hands tyed fast behind his back.

6. Then bespoke our good Lady Ward, As she set on the bench so high; 'A peck of white pennys I'll give to my lord, If he'll grant Hugh Grime to me.

7. 'And if it be not full enough, I'll stroke it up with my silver fan; And if it be not full enough, I'll heap it up with my own hand.'

8. 'Hold your tongue now, Lady Ward, And of your talkitive let it be! There is never a Grime came in this court That at thy bidding shall saved be.'

9. Then bespoke our good Lady Moor, As she sat on the bench so high; 'A yoke of fat oxen I'll give to my lord, If he'll grant Hugh Grime to me.'

10. 'Hold your tongue now, good Lady Moor, And of your talkitive let it be! There is never a Grime came to this court That at thy bidding saved shall be.'

11. Sir Hugh in the Grime look'd out of the door, With his hand out of the bar; There he spy'd his father dear, Tearing of his golden hair.

12. 'Hold your tongue, good father dear, And of your weeping let it be! For if they bereave me of my life, They cannot bereave me of the heavens so high.'

13. Sir Hugh in the Grime look'd out at the door; Oh, what a sorry heart had he! There he spy'd his mother dear, Weeping and wailing 'Oh, woe is me!'

14. 'Hold your tongue now, mother dear, And of your weeping let it be! For if they bereave me of my life, They cannot bereave me of heaven's fee.

15. 'I'll leave my sword to Johnny Armstrong, That is made of mettal so fine, That when he comes to the border-side He may think of Hugh in the Grime.'



THE DEATH OF PARCY REED

The Text.—There are two texts available for this ballad, of which the second one, here given, was said to have been taken down from the singing of an old woman by James Telfer of Liddesdale, and was so printed in Richardson's Borderers' Table Book (1846). It preserves almost the whole of the other version, taken from Robert White's papers, who recorded it in 1829; but it obviously bears marks of having been tampered with by Telfer. However, it contains certain stanzas which Child says may be regarded as traditional, and it is therefore preferred here.

The Story.—Percival or Parcy Reed was warden of the district round Troughend, a high tract of land in Redesdale. In the discharge of his duties he incurred the enmity of the family of Hall of Girsonsfield (two miles east of Troughend) and of some moss-troopers named Crosier. As the ballad shows, the treachery of the Halls delivered Parcy Reed into the Crosiers' hands at a hut in Batinghope, a glen westward of the Whitelee stream. Local tradition adds to the details narrated in the ballad that Parcy's wife had been warned by a dream of her husband's danger, and that on the following morning his loaf of bread happened to be turned upside down—a very bad omen.

Further, we learn from the same source, the Crosiers' barbarous treatment of Parcy's corpse aroused the indignation of the neighbourhood, and they and the treacherous Halls were driven away.

Girsonsfield has belonged to no one of the name of Hall as far back as Elizabeth, whence it is argued that the ballad is not later than the sixteenth century.

THE DEATH OF PARCY REED

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.

6. 'To the hunting, ho!' cried Parcy Reed, 'The morning sun is on the dew; The cauler breeze frae off the fells Will lead the dogs to the quarry true.

7. 'To the hunting, ho!' cried Parcy Reed, And to the hunting he has gane; And the three fause Ha's o' Girsonsfield Alang wi' him he has them ta'en.

8. They hunted high, they hunted low, By heathery hill and birken shaw; They raised a buck on Rooken Edge, And blew the mort at fair Ealylawe.

9. They hunted high, they hunted low, They made the echoes ring amain; With music sweet o' horn and hound, They merry made fair Redesdale glen.

10. They hunted high, they hunted low, They hunted up, they hunted down, Until the day was past the prime, And it grew late in the afternoon.

11. They hunted high in Batinghope, When as the sun was sinking low. Says Parcy then, 'Ca' off the dogs, We'll bait our steeds and homeward go.'

12. They lighted high in Batinghope, Atween the brown and benty ground; They had but rested a little while, Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound.

13. There's nane may lean on a rotten staff, But him that risks to get a fa'; There's nane may in a traitor trust, And traitors black were every Ha'.

14. They've stown the bridle off his steed, And they've put water in his lang gun; They've fixed his sword within the sheath, That out again it winna come.

15. 'Awaken ye, waken ye, Parcy Reed, Or by your enemies be taen; For yonder are the five Crosiers A-coming owre the Hingin-stane.'

16. 'If they be five, and we be four, Sae that ye stand alang wi' me, Then every man ye will take one, And only leave but two to me. We will them meet as brave men ought, And make them either fight or flee.'

17. 'We mayna stand, we canna stand, We daurna stand alang wi' thee; The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, And they wad kill baith thee and we.'

18. 'O, turn thee, turn thee, Johnnie Ha', O, turn thee, man, and fight wi' me; When ye come to Troughend again, My gude black naig I will gie thee; He cost full twenty pound o' gowd, Atween my brother John and me

19. 'I mayna turn, I canna turn, I daurna turn and fight wi' thee; The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, And they wad kill baith thee and me.'

20. 'O, turn thee, turn thee, Willie Ha', O, turn thee, man, and fight wi' me; When ye come to Troughend again, A yoke o' owsen I'll gie thee.'

21. 'I mayna turn, I canna turn, I daurna turn and fight wi' thee; The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, And they wad kill baith thee and me.'

22. 'O, turn thee, turn thee, Tommy Ha', O, turn now, man, and fight wi' me; If ever we come to Troughend again, My daughter Jean I'll gie to thee.'

23. 'I mayna turn, I canna turn, I daurna turn, and fight wi' thee; The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, And they wad kill baith thee and me.'

24. 'O, shame upon ye, traitors a'! I wish your hames ye may never see; Ye've stown the bridle off my naig, And I can neither fight nor flee.

25. 'Ye've stown the bridle off my naig, And ye've put water i' my lang gun; Ye've fixed my sword within the sheath, That out again it winna come.'

26. He had but time to cross himsel', A prayer he hadna time to say, Till round him came the Crosiers keen, All riding graithed, and in array.

27. 'Weel met, weel met, now, Parcy Reed, Thou art the very man we sought; Owre lang hae we been in your debt, Now will we pay you as we ought.

28. 'We'll pay thee at the nearest tree, Where we shall hang thee like a hound;' Brave Parcy rais'd his fankit sword, And fell'd the foremost to the ground.

29. Alake, and wae for Parcy Reed, Alake, he was an unarmed man; Four weapons pierced him all at once, As they assailed him there and than.

30. They fell upon him all at once, They mangled him most cruellie; The slightest wound might caused his deid, And they hae gi'en him thirty-three: They hacket off his hands and feet, And left him lying on the lee.

31. 'Now, Parcy Reed, we've paid our debt, Ye canna weel dispute the tale,' The Crosiers said, and off they rade; They rade the airt o' Liddesdale.

32. It was the hour o' gloaming gray, When herds come in frae fauld and pen; A herd he saw a huntsman lie, Says he, 'Can this be Laird Troughen'?'

33. 'There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, And some will ca' me Laird Troughen'; It's little matter what they ca' me, My faes hae made me ill to ken.

34. 'There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, And speak my praise in tower and town It's little matter what they do now, My life-blood rudds the heather brown.

35. 'There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, And a' my virtues say and sing; I would much rather have just now A draught o' water frae the spring.'

36. The herd flung aff his clouted shoon, And to the nearest fountain ran; He made his bonnet serve a cup, And wan the blessing o' the dying man.

37. 'Now, honest herd, you maun do mair,— Ye maun do mair as I you tell; You maun bear tidings to Troughend, And bear likewise my last farewell.

38. 'A farewell to my wedded wife, A farewell to my brother John, Wha sits into the Troughend tower, Wi' heart as black as any stone.

39. 'A farewell to my daughter Jean, A farewell to my young sons five; Had they been at their father's hand, I had this night been man alive.

40. 'A farewell to my followers a', And a' my neighbours gude at need; Bid them think how the treacherous Ha's Betrayed the life o' Parcy Reed.

41. 'The laird o' Clennel bears my bow, The laird o' Brandon bears my brand; Whene'er they ride i' the Border side, They'll mind the fate o' the laird Troughend.'

[Annotations: 1.2: 'reaving,' robbing. 1.4: 'staig,' horse; 'stot,' ox. 26.4: 'graithed,' accoutred. 28.3: 'fankit,' entangled. 31.4: 'the airt o',' i.e. in the direction of.]



BEWICK AND GRAHAME

The Text is from several broadsides and chap-books, but mainly depends on a stall-copy entitled The Song of Bewick and Grahame, approximately dated 1740. Sir Walter Scott considered this ballad 'remarkable, as containing probably the very latest allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms' (see 14.4, and the use of the word 'bully'); but Child strongly suspects there was an older and better copy than those extant, none of which is earlier than the eighteenth century.

The Story is concerned with two fathers, who boast about their sons, and cause the two lads to fight. Christy Graham is faced with the dilemma of fighting either his father or his brother-in-arms, and decides to meet the latter; but, should he kill his friend, he determines not to return alive. Young Bewick takes a similar vow. They fight two hours, and at last an 'ackward' stroke kills Bewick, and Christy falls on his sword. The two fathers lament, and the ballad-singer finishes by putting the blame on them.

BEWICK AND GRAHAME

1. Old Grahame he is to Carlisle gone, Where Sir Robert Bewick there met he; In arms to the wine they are gone, And drank till they were both merry.

2. Old Grahame he took up the cup, And said, 'Brother Bewick, here's to thee, And here's to our two sons at home, For they live best in our country.'

3. 'Nay, were thy son as good as mine, And of some books he could but read, With sword and buckler by his side, To see how he could save his head.

4. 'They might have been call'd two bold brethren Where ever they did go or ride; They might have been call'd two bold brethren, They might have crack'd the Border-side.

5. Thy son is bad, and is but a lad, And bully to my son cannot be; For my son Bewick can both write and read, And sure I am that cannot he.'

6. 'I put him to school, but he would not learn, I bought him books but he would not read; But my blessing he's never have Till I see how his hand can save his head.'

7. Old Grahame called for an account, And he ask'd what was for to pay; There he paid a crown, so it went round, Which was all for good wine and hay.

8. Old Grahame is into the stable gone, Where stood thirty good steeds and three; He's taken his own steed by the head, And home rode he right wantonly.

9. When he came home, there did he espy A loving sight to spy or see, There did he espy his own three sons, Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was he.

10. There did he espy his own three sons, Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was he; 'Where have you been all day, father, That no counsel you would take by me?'

11. 'Nay, I have been in Carlisle town, Where Sir Robert Bewick there met me; He said thou was bad, and call'd thee a lad, And a baffled man by thou I be.

12. 'He said thou was bad, and call'd thee a lad, And bully to his son cannot be; For his son Bewick can both write and read, And sure I am that cannot thee.

13. 'I put thee to school, but thou would not learn, I bought thee books, but thou would not read; But my blessing thou's never have Till I see with Bewick thou can save thy head.'

14. 'Oh, pray forbear, my father dear; That ever such a thing should be! Shall I venture my body in field to fight With a man that's faith and troth to me?'

15. 'What's that thou sayst, thou limmer loon? Or how dare thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon, Here is my glove, thou shalt fight me.'

16. Christy stoop'd low unto the ground, Unto the ground, as you'll understand; 'O father, put on your glove again, The wind hath blown it from your hand.'

17. 'What's that thou sayst, thou limmer loon? Or how dare thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon, Here is my hand, thou shalt fight me.'

18. Christy Grahame is to his chamber gone, And for to study, as well might be, Whether to fight with his father dear, Or with his bully Bewick he.

19. 'If it be my fortune my bully to kill, As you shall boldly understand, In every town that I ride through, They'll say, There rides a brotherless man!

20. 'Nay, for to kill my bully dear, I think it will be a deadly sin; And for to kill my father dear, The blessing of heaven I ne'er shall win.

21. 'O give me your blessing, father,' he said, 'And pray well for me for to thrive; If it be my fortune my bully to kill, I swear I'll ne'er come home alive.'

22. He put on his back a good plate-jack, And on his head a cap of steel, With sword and buckler by his side; O gin he did not become them well!

23. 'O fare thee well, my father dear! And fare thee well, thou Carlisle town! If it be my fortune my bully to kill, I swear I'll ne'er eat bread again.'

24. Now we'll leave talking of Christy Grahame, And talk of him again belive; But we will talk of bonny Bewick, Where he was teaching his scholars five.

25. Now when he had learn'd them well to fence, To handle their swords without any doubt, He's taken his own sword under his arm, And walk'd his father's close about.

26. He look'd between him and the sun, To see what farleys he could see; There he spy'd a man with armour on, As he came riding over the lee.

27. 'I wonder much what man yon be That so boldly this way does come; I think it is my nighest friend, I think it is my bully Grahame.

28. 'O welcome, O welcome, bully Grahame! O man, thou art my dear, welcome! O man, thou art my dear, welcome! For I love thee best in Christendom.'

29. 'Away, away, O bully Bewick, And of thy bullyship let me be! The day is come I never thought on; Bully, I'm come here to fight with thee.'

30. 'O no! not so, O bully Grahame! That e'er such a word should spoken be! I was thy master, thou was my scholar; So well as I have learned thee.'

31. 'My father he was in Carlisle town, Where thy father Bewick there met he; He said I was bad, and he call'd me a lad, And a baffled man by thou I be.'

32. 'Away, away, O bully Grahame, And of all that talk, man, let us be! We'll take three men of either side To see if we can our fathers agree.'

33. 'Away, away, O bully Bewick, And of thy bullyship let me be! But if thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.'

34. 'O no, not so, my bully Grahame! That e'er such a word should spoken be! Shall I venture my body in field to fight With a man that's faith and troth to me?'

35. 'Away, away, O bully Bewick, And of all that care, man, let us be! If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.'

36. 'Now, if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, As God's will's, man, it all must be: But if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, 'Tis home again I'll never gae.'

37. 'Thou art then of my mind, bully Bewick, And sworn-brethren will we be; If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.'

38. He flang his cloak from off his shoulders, His psalm-book out of his hand flung he, He clap'd his hand upon the hedge, And o'er lap he right wantonly.

39. When Grahame did see his bully come, The salt tear stood long in his eye; 'Now needs must I say that thou art a man, That dare venture thy body to fight with me.

40. 'Now I have a harness on my back; I know that thou hath none on thine; But as little as thou hath on thy back, Sure as little shall there be on mine.'

41. He flang his jack from off his back, His steel cap from his head flang he; He's taken his sword into his hand, He's tyed his horse unto a tree.

42. Now they fell to it with two broad swords, For two long hours fought Bewick and he; Much sweat was to be seen on them both, But never a drop of blood to see.

43. Now Grahame gave Bewick an ackward stroke, An ackward stroke surely struck he; He struck him now under the left breast, Then down to the ground as dead fell he.

44. 'Arise, arise, O bully Bewick, Arise, and speak three words to me! Whether this be thy deadly wound, Or God and good surgeons will mend thee.'

45. 'O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, And pray do get thee far from me! Thy sword is sharp, it hath wounded my heart, And so no further can I gae.

46. 'O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, And get thee far from me with speed! And get thee out of this country quite! That none may know who's done the deed.'

47. 'O if this be true, my bully dear, The words that thou dost tell to me, The vow I made, and the vow I'll keep; I swear I'll be the first to die.'

48. Then he stuck his sword in a moudie-hill, Where he lap thirty good foot and three; First he bequeathed his soul to God, And upon his own sword-point lap he.

49. Now Grahame he was the first that died, And then came Robin Bewick to see; 'Arise, arise, O son,' he said, 'For I see thou's won the victory.

50. 'Arise, arise, O son,' he said, 'For I see thou's won the victory;' 'Father, could ye not drunk your wine at home, And letten me and my brother be?

51. 'Nay, dig a grave both low and wide, And in it us two pray bury; But bury my bully Grahame on the sun-side, For I'm sure he's won the victory.'

52. Now we'll leave talking of these two brethren, In Carlisle town where they lie slain, And talk of these two good old men, Where they were making a pitiful moan.

53. With that bespoke now Robin Bewick; 'O man, was I not much to blame? I have lost one of the liveliest lads That ever was bred unto my name.'

54. With that bespoke my good lord Grahame; 'O man, I have lost the better block; I have lost my comfort and my joy, I have lost my key, I have lost my lock.

55. 'Had I gone through all Ladderdale, And forty horse had set on me, Had Christy Grahame been at my back, So well as he would guarded me.'

56. I have no more of my song to sing, But two or three words to you I'll name; But 'twill be talk'd in Carlisle town That these two old men were all the blame.

[Annotations: 5.2: 'bully,' = billie, brother. See page 75. 24.2: 'belive,' soon. 26.2: 'farleys,' wonders, novelties. 48.1: 'moudie-hill,' mole-hill.]



THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT

The Text is from Motherwell's Minstrelsy. He received the ballad from Charles Kirkpatrick Sharp. In Maidment's North Countrie Garland there is a similar version with a number of small verbal differences.

The Story.—Frendraught in Aberdeenshire, and Rothiemay in Banffshire, lie on opposite sides of the Deveron, which separates the counties. A feud began (as the result of a dispute over fishing rights) between Crichton of Frendraught and Gordon of Rothiemay, and in a fight on the first day of the year 1630, Rothiemay and others were killed. Kinsmen of both parties were involved; and though the broil was temporarily settled, another soon sprang up. The Lord John of the ballad was Viscount Melgum, the second son of the Marquis of Huntly, who was appealed to as a peacemaker between the factions of Leslie and Crichton. Lord John and Rothiemay were sent by the Marquis to escort Frendraught to his home, a precaution rendered necessary by the knowledge that the Leslies were in ambuscade. Arrived at Frendraught, the laird and lady entreated the two young men to remain the night, and eventually prevailed on them to do so.

However (though it was long disputed whether the fire was an accident or not), it seems that the ancient grudge against Rothiemay moved Frendraught to sacrifice 'a great quantity of silver, both coined and uncoined,' in the firing of his house for the sake of burning Rothiemay.

Sophia Hay (25.1) was the daughter of the Earl of Erroll, and Viscount Melgum's wife. The last two lines of the ballad are not easily explained, as the lady is recorded to have been deeply attached to her husband; but it is possible that they have been inserted from a similar stanza in some other ballad.

THE FIRE OF FRENDRAUGHT

1. The eighteenth of October, A dismal tale to hear How good Lord John and Rothiemay Was both burnt in the fire.

2. When steeds was saddled and well bridled, And ready for to ride, Then out it came her false Frendraught, Inviting them to bide.

3. Said, 'Stay this night untill we sup, The morn untill we dine; 'Twill be a token of good 'greement 'Twixt your good Lord and mine.'

4. 'We'll turn again,' said good Lord John; 'But no,' said Rothiemay, 'My steed's trapan'd, my bridle's broken, I fear the day I'm fey.'

5. When mass was sung, and bells was rung, And all men bound for bed, Then good Lord John and Rothiemay In one chamber was laid.

6. They had not long cast off their cloaths, And were but now asleep, When the weary smoke began to rise, Likewise the scorching heat.

7. 'O waken, waken, Rothiemay! O waken, brother dear! And turn you to our Saviour; There is strong treason here.'

8. When they were dressed in their cloaths, And ready for to boun, The doors and windows was all secured, The roof-tree burning down.

9. He did him to the wire-window As fast as he could gang; Says 'Wae to the hands put in the stancheons! For out we'll never win.'

10. When he stood at the wire-window, Most doleful to be seen, He did espy her Lady Frendraught, Who stood upon the green.

11. Cried 'Mercy, mercy, Lady Frendraught, Will ye not sink with sin? For first your husband killed my father, And now you burn his son.'

12. O then out spoke her Lady Frendraught, And loudly did she cry; 'It were great pity for good Lord John, But none for Rothiemay; But the keys are casten in the deep draw well, Ye cannot get away.'

13. While he stood in this dreadful plight, Most piteous to be seen, There called out his servant Gordon, As he had frantic been.

14. 'O loup, O loup, my dear master! O loup and come to me! I'll catch you in my arms two, One foot I will not flee.

15. 'O loup, O loup, my dear master! O loup and come away! I'll catch you in my arms two, But Rothiemay may lie.'

16. 'The fish shall never swim in the flood, Nor corn grow through the clay, Nor the fiercest fire that was ever kindled Twin me and Rothiemay.

17. 'But I cannot loup, I cannot come, I cannot win to thee; My head's fast in the wire-window, My feet burning from me.

18. 'My eyes are seething in my head, My flesh roasting also, My bowels are boiling with my blood; Is not that a woeful woe?

19. 'Take here the rings from my white fingers, That are so long and small, And give them to my lady fair, Where she sits in her hall.

20. 'So I cannot loup, I cannot come, I cannot loup to thee; My earthly part is all consumed, My spirit but speaks to thee.'

21. Wringing her hands, tearing her hair, His lady she was seen, And thus addressed his servant Gordon, Where he stood on the green.

22. 'O wae be to you, George Gordon! An ill death may you die! So safe and sound as you stand there And my lord bereaved from me.'

23. 'I bad him loup, I bad him come, I bad him loup to me; I'd catch him in my arms two, A foot I should not flee.

24. 'He threw me the rings from his white fingers, Which were so long and small, To give to you, his lady fair, Where you sat in your hall.'

25. Sophia Hay, Sophia Hay, O bonny Sophia was her name, Her waiting-maid put on her cloaths, But I wot she tore them off again.

26. And aft she cried, 'Ohon! alas! alas! A sair heart's ill to win; I wan a sair heart when I married him, And the day it's well return'd again.'

[Annotations: 16.4: 'twin,' part.]



GEORDIE

The Text is from Johnson's Museum, communicated by Robert Burns.

The Story.—Some editors have identified the hero of the ballad with George Gordon, fourth earl of Huntly, but upon what grounds it is difficult to see.

There are two English broadside ballads, of the first and second halves respectively of the seventeenth century, which are either the originals of, or copies from, the Scottish ballad, which exists in many variants. The earlier is concerned with 'the death of a worthy gentleman named George Stoole,' 'to a delicate Scottish tune,' and the second is called 'The Life and Death of George of Oxford. To a pleasant tune, called Poor Georgy.' One of the Scottish versions has a burden resembling that of 'George Stoole.'

The 'battle in the north' and Sir Charles Hay are not identified.

GEORDIE

1. There was a battle in the north, And nobles there was many, And they hae killed Sir Charlie Hay, And they laid the wyte on Geordie.

2. O he has written a lang letter, He sent it to his lady: 'Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town, To see what word's o' Geordie.'

3. When first she look'd the letter on, She was both red and rosy; But she had na read a word but twa Till she wallowt like a lily.

4. 'Gar get to me ray gude grey steed; My menyie a' gae wi' me; For I shall neither eat nor drink Till Enbrugh town shall see me.'

5. And she has mountit her gude grey steed, Her menyie a' gaed wi' her, And she did neither eat nor drink Till Enbrugh town did see her,

6. And first appear'd the fatal block, And syne the aix to head him, And Geordie cumin' down the stair, And bands o' airn upon him.

7. But tho' he was chain'd in fetters strang, O' airn and steel sae heavy, There was na ane in a' the court Sae bra' a man as Geordie.

8. O she's down on her bended knee; I wat she's pale and weary: 'O pardon, pardon, noble king, And gie me back my dearie!

9. 'I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, The seventh ne'er saw his daddie, O pardon, pardon, noble king, Pity a waefu' lady!'

10. 'Gar bid the headin'-man mak haste,' Our king reply'd fu' lordly: 'O noble king, tak a' that's mine, But gie me back my Geordie!'

11. The Gordons cam, the Gordons ran, And they were stark and steady, And ay the word amang them a' Was 'Gordons, keep you ready!'

12. An aged lord at the king's right hand Says 'Noble king, but hear me; Gar her tell down five thousand pound, And gie her back her dearie.'

13. Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, Some gae her dollars many, And she's tell'd down five thousand pound, And she's gotten again her dearie.

14. She blinkit blythe in her Geordie's face, Says 'Dear I've bought thee, Geordie; But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green Or I had tint my laddie.'

15. He claspit her by the middle sma', And he kist her lips sae rosy: 'The fairest flower o' woman-kind Is my sweet bonnie lady!'

[Annotations: 1.4: 'wyte,' blame. 3.4: 'wallowt,' drooped. 4.2: 'menyie,' attendants. 14.3: 'bouk,' body. 14.4: 'Or,' ere; 'tint,' lost.]



THE BARON OF BRACKLEY

The Text is from Alexander Laing's Scarce Ancient Ballads (1822). A similar version occurs in Buchan's Gleanings (1825). Professor Gummere, in printing the first text, omits six stanzas, on the assumption that they represent part of a second ballad imperfectly incorporated. But I think the ballad can be read as it stands below, though doubtless 'his ladie's' remark, st. 11, is out of place.

The Story seems to be a combination of at least two. An old Baron of Brackley, 'an honest aged man,' was slain in 1592 by 'caterans' or freebooters who had been entertained hospitably by him. In 1666 John Gordon of Brackley began a feud with John Farquharson of Inverey by seizing some cattle or horses—accounts differ—by way of fines due for taking fish out of season. This eventually led to the slaying of Brackley and certain of his adherents.

Professor Child suspects a commixture of the two episodes in the one ballad, or more probably, a grafting of a later ballad on to an earlier one. The character of the Baron as revealed in the ballad more closely resembles that of the 1592 episode, while the details of the fray are in keeping with the later story.

'Peggy,' the Baron's wife, was Margaret Burnet, cousin to Gilbert, Bishop of Salisbury. After Brackley's death she married again, but not her husband's murderer, as the end of our ballad scandalously suggests.

Brackley is near Ballater, about forty miles west of Aberdeen.

THE BARON OF BRACKLEY

1. Inverey cam doun Deeside, whistlin' and playin', He was at brave Braikley's yett ere it was dawin'.

2. He rappit fu' loudly an' wi' a great roar, Cried, 'Cum doun, cum doun, Braikley, and open the door.

3. 'Are ye sleepin', Baronne, or are ye wakin'? Ther's sharpe swords at your yett, will gar your blood spin.

4. 'Open the yett, Braikley, and lat us within, Till we on the green turf gar your bluid rin.'

5. Out spak the brave baronne, owre the castell-wa'; 'Are ye cum to spulyie and plunder mi ha'?

6. 'But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum in: Gin ye drink o' my wine, ye'll nae gar my bluid spin.

7. 'Gin ye be hir'd widifu's, ye may gang by, Ye may gang to the lowlands and steal their fat ky.

8. 'Ther spulyie like rievers o' wyld ketterin clan, Who plunder unsparing baith houses and lan'.

9. 'Gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum [in], Ther's meat and drink i' my ha' for every man.

10. 'Gin ye be hired widifu's, ye may gang by, Gang doun to the lowlands, and steal horse and ky.'

11. Up spak his ladie, at his bak where she lay, 'Get up, get up, Braikley, an be not afraid; The'r but young hir'd widifu's wi' belted plaids.'

12. 'Cum kiss me, mi Peggy, I'le nae langer stay, For I will go out and meet Inverey.

13. 'But haud your tongue, Peggy, and mak nae sic din, For yon same hir'd widifu's will prove themselves men.'

14. She called on her marys, they cam to her hand; Cries, 'Bring me your rocks, lassies, we will them command.

15. 'Get up, get up, Braikley, and turn bak your ky, Or me and mi women will them defy.

16. 'Cum forth then, mi maidens, and show them some play; We'll ficht them, and shortly the cowards will fly.

17. 'Gin I had a husband, whereas I hae nane, He woud nae ly i' his bed and see his ky taen.

18. 'Ther's four-and-twenty milk-whit calves, twal o' them ky, In the woods o' Glentanner, it's ther thei a' ly.

19. 'Ther's goat i' the Etnach, and sheep o' the brae, An a' will be plunder'd by young Inverey.'

20. 'Now haud your tongue, Peggy, and gie me a gun, Ye'll see me gae furth, but I'll never cum in.

21. 'Call mi brother William, mi unkl also, Mi cousin James Gordon; we'll mount and we'll go.'

22. When Braikley was ready and stood i' the closs, He was the bravest baronne that e'er mounted horse.

23. Whan all wer assembled o' the castell green, No man like brave Braikley was ther to be seen.

24. ... ... ... 'Turn bak, brother William, ye are a bridegroom;

25. 'Wi' bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o' the mill; O' sichin' and sobbin' she'll soon get her fill.'

26. 'I'm no coward, brother, 'tis ken'd I'm a man; I'll ficht i' your quarral as lang's I can stand.

27. 'I'll ficht, my dear brother, wi' heart and gudewill, And so will young Harry that lives at the mill.

28. 'But turn, mi dear brother, and nae langer stay: What'll cum o' your ladie, gin Braikley thei slay?

29. 'What'll cum o' your ladie and bonnie young son? O what'll cum o' them when Braikley is gone?'

30. 'I never will turn: do you think I will fly? But here I will ficht, and here I will die.'

31. 'Strik, dogs,' crys Inverey, 'and ficht till ye're slayn, For we are four hundred, ye are but four men.

32. 'Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your honour is gone, Your lands we will plunder, your castell we'll burn.'

33. At the head o' the Etnach the battel began, At Little Auchoilzie thei kill'd the first man.

34. First thei kill'd ane, and soon they kill'd twa, Thei kill'd gallant Braikley, the flour o' them a'.

35. Thei kill'd William Gordon, and James o' the Knox, And brave Alexander, the flour o' Glenmuick.

36. What sichin' and moaning was heard i' the glen, For the Baronne o' Braikley, who basely was slayn!

37. 'Cam ye bi the castell, and was ye in there? Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair?'

38. 'Yes, I cam by Braikley, and I gaed in there, And there saw his ladie braiding her hair.

39. 'She was rantin', and dancin', and singin' for joy, And vowin' that nicht she woud feest Inverey.

40. 'She eat wi' him, drank wi' him, welcom'd him in, Was kind to the man that had slain her baronne.'

41. Up spake the son on the nourice's knee, 'Gin I live to be a man, revenged I'll be.'

42. Ther's dool i' the kitchin, and mirth i' the ha', The Baronne o' Braikley is dead and awa'.

[Annotations: 1.2: 'yett,' gate. 5.2: 'spulyie,' spoil. 7.1: 'widifu's,' gallows-birds (lit. 'halter-fulls'). 8.1: 'rievers,' robbers; 'ketterin' = cateran, marauder freebooter. 14.2: 'rocks,' distaffs.]



THE GIPSY LADDIE

The Text is from Motherwell's MS., a copy from tradition in Renfrewshire in 1825. The ballad exists both in English and Scottish, and though the English ballad is probably derived from the Scottish, it was the first in print. It is also called Johnnie Faa. Motherwell, in printing an elaborated version of the following text (Minstrelsy, 1827, p. 360), called it Gypsie Davy.

The Story.—Singers—presumably gipsies—entice Lady Cassillis down to hear them, and cast glamour on her. She follows their chief, Gipsy Davy, but finds (stt. 5 and 6) that the conditions are changed. Her lord misses her, seeks her 'thro' nations many,' and finds her drinking with the gipsy chief. He asks her to return home with him. At this point the present version becomes difficult, and the bearing of st. 12 is not apparent. We may gather that the lady returned home with her husband, as he proceeded to hang sixteen of the gipsies.

This version calls the lady 'Jeanie Faw,' but the majority call the gipsy chief Johnnie Faa, which is a well-known name amongst gipsies, and occurs as early as 1540 as the name of the 'lord and earl of Little Egypt.' Gipsies being expelled from Scotland by Act of Parliament in 1609, a Captain Johnne Faa and seven others were hanged in 1624 for disobeying the ordinance, and this execution is sufficient to account for the introduction of the name into a ballad of this kind.

The ballad has no certain connection with the Cassillis family, and it has been suggested that the word is simply a corruption of 'castle,' the original beginning of the ballad being

'The gipsies came to the castle-gate.'

If this be so, the present form of the ballad illustrates admirably two methods of corruption by tradition.

THE GIPSY LADDIE

1. There cam singers to Earl Cassillis' gates, And oh, but they sang bonnie! They sang sae sweet and sae complete, Till down cam the earl's lady.

2. She cam tripping down the stair, And all her maids before her; As soon as they saw her weel-faur'd face They coost their glamourye owre her.

3. They gave her o' the gude sweet-meats, The nutmeg and the ginger, And she gied them a far better thing, Ten gold rings aff her finger.

4. 'Tak from me my silken cloak, And bring me down my plaidie; For it is good eneuch,' she said, 'To follow a Gipsy Davy.

5. 'Yestreen I rode this water deep, And my gude lord beside me; But this nicht I maun set in my pretty fit and wade, A wheen blackguards wading wi' me,

6. 'Yestreen I lay in a fine feather-bed, And my gude lord beyond me; But this nicht I maun lie in some cauld tenant's-barn, A wheen blackguards waiting on me.'

7. 'Come to thy bed, my bonny Jeanie Faw, Come to thy bed, my dearie, For I do swear by the top o' my spear, Thy gude lord'll nae mair come near thee.'

8. When her gude lord cam hame at nicht, It was asking for his fair ladye; One spak slow, and another whisper'd out, 'She's awa' wi' Gipsey Davy!'

9. 'Come saddle to me my horse,' he said; 'Come saddle and mak him readie! For I'll neither sleep, eat, nor drink, Till I find out my lady.'

10. They socht her up, they socht her doun, They socht her thro' nations many, Till at length they found her out in Abbey dale, Drinking wi' Gipsey Davy.

11. 'Rise, oh, rise! my bonny Jeanie Faw; Oh, rise, and do not tarry! Is this the thing ye promised to me When at first I did thee marry?'

12. They drank her cloak, so did they her goun, They drank her stockings and her shoon, And they drank the coat that was nigh to her smock, And they pawned her pearled apron.

13. They were sixteen clever men, Suppose they were na bonnie; They are a' to be hang'd on ae tree, For the stealing o' Earl Cassilis' lady.

14. 'We are sixteen clever men, One woman was a' our mother; We are a' to be hanged on ae day, For the stealing of a wanton lady.'

[Annotations: 2.3: 'weel-faur'd,' well-favoured. 5.4:'a wheen,' a pack [of].]



BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY

The Text is from Sharpe's Ballad Book. A parody of this ballad, concerning an episode of the end of the seventeenth century, shows it to have been popular not long after its making. In England it has become a nursery rhyme (see Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes, p. 246).

The Story.—In 1781 a Major Barry, then owner of Lednock, recorded the following tradition. Mary Gray was the daughter of the Laird of Lednock, near Perth, and Bessy Bell was the daughter of the Laird of Kinvaid, a neighbouring place. Both were handsome, and the two were intimate friends. Bessy Bell being come on a visit to Mary Gray, they retired, in order to avoid an outbreak of the plague, to a bower built by themselves in a romantic spot called Burnbraes, on the side of Branchie-burn, three-quarters of a mile from Lednock House. The ballad does not say how the 'pest cam,' but tradition finds a cause for their deaths by inventing a young man, in love with both, who visited them and brought the infection. They died in the bower, and were buried in the Dranoch-haugh ('Stronach haugh,' 3.3), near the bank of the river Almond. The grave is still visited by pious pilgrims.

Major Barry mentions 1666 as the year, but the plague did not reach Scotland in that year. Probably the year in question was 1645, when the district was ravaged with the pestilence.

BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY

1. O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, They war twa bonnie lasses; They bigget a bower on yon burn-brae, And theekit it o'er wi' rashes.

2. They theekit it o'er wi' rashes green, They theekit it o'er wi' heather; But the pest cam frae the burrows-town, And slew them baith thegither.

3. They thought to lie in Methven kirk-yard, Amang their noble kin; But they maun lye in Stronach haugh, To biek forenent the sin.

4. And Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, They war twa bonnie lasses; They bigget a bower on yon burn-brae, And theekit it o'er wi' rashes.

[Annotations: 1.3: 'bigget,' built. 1.4: 'theekit,' thatched. 3.4: i.e. to bask beneath the sun.]



SIR JAMES THE ROSE

The Text is from Motherwell's Minstrelsy (1827). It is based on a stall-copy, presumably similar to one preserved by Sir Walter Scott at Abbotsford, combined with a version from recitation, which Child none the less calls 'well remembered from print.'

The Story has no historical foundation, as far as can be discovered; and for once we have a traditional tale inculcating a moral, though we do not understand why the 'nourice' betrays Sir James to his enemies.

Michael Bruce wrote a version of the story of this ballad, which seems to have become more popular than the ballad itself. It may be seen in A. B. Grosart's edition of his works (1865), p. 197.

SIR JAMES THE ROSE

1. O heard ye of Sir James the Rose, The young heir of Buleighan? For he has killed a gallant squire, And his friends are out to take him.

2. Now he's gone to the house of Marr, Where the Nourice was his leman; To seek his dear he did repair, Thinking she would befriend him.

3. 'Where are you going, Sir James?' she says, 'Or where now are you riding?' 'Oh, I am bound to a foreign land, For now I'm under hiding.

4. 'Where shall I go? where shall I run? Where shall I go to hide me? For I have killed a gallant squire, And they're seeking to slay me.'

5. 'O go ye down to yon ale-house, And I'll there pay your lawin'; And if I be a maiden true, I'll meet you in the dawin'.'

6. 'I'll no go down to yon ale-house, For you to pay my lawin'; There's forty shillings for one supper, I'll stay in't till the dawin'.'

7. He's turned him richt and round about, And rowed him in his brechan; And he has gone to take his sleep, In the lowlands of Buleighan.

8. He had not weel gone out o' sicht, Nor was he past Millstrethen, Till four-and-twenty belted knights, Came riding owre the Lethan.

9. 'O have ye seen Sir James the Rose, The young heir of Buleighan? For he has killed a gallant squire, And we're sent out to take him.'

10. 'O I have seen Sir James,' she says, 'For he passed here on Monday; If the steed be swift that he rides on, He's past the gates o' London.'

11. As they rode on man after man, Then she cried out behind them, 'If you do seek Sir James the Rose, I'll tell you where you'll find him.'

12. 'Seek ye the bank abune the mill, In the lowlands of Buleighan; And there you'll find Sir James the Rose, Lying sleeping in his brechan.

13. 'You must not wake him out of sleep, Nor yet must you affright him, Till you drive a dart quite through his heart, And through his body pierce him.'

14. They sought the bank abune the mill, In the lowlands of Buleighan, And there they found Sir James the Rose, Lying sleeping in his brechan.

15. Up then spake Sir John the Graeme Who had the charge a-keeping, 'It shall ne'er be said, dear gentlemen, We killed a man when a-sleeping.

16. They seized his broad sword and his targe, And closely him surrounded; And when he waked out of his sleep, His senses were confounded.

17. 'O pardon, pardon, gentlemen, Have mercy now upon me.' 'Such as you gave, such you shall have, And so we fall upon thee.'

18. 'Donald, my man, wait me upon, And I'll gie you my brechan; And if you stay here till I die, You'll get my trews of tartan.

19. 'There is fifty pounds in my pocket, Besides my trews and brechan, Ye'll get my watch and diamond ring, And take me to Loch-Largan.'

20. Now they've ta'en out his bleeding heart, And stuck it on a spear, Then took it to the House of Marr, And gave it to his dear.

21. But when she saw his bleeding heart, She was like one distracted, She wrung her hands and tore her hair, Crying, 'Oh! what have I acted.

22. 'It's for your sake, Sir James the Rose, That my poor heart's a-breaking; Cursed be the day I did thee betray, Thou brave knight o' Buleighan.'

23. Then up she rose, and forth she goes, And in that fatal hour She bodily was borne away, And never was seen more.

24. But where she went was never kent; And so, to end the matter, A traitor's end you may depend Can never be no better.

[Annotations: 7.2: 'brechan,' plaid.]



CLYDE'S WATER

The Text is from the Skene MS., but I have omitted the three final lines, which do not make a complete stanza, and, when compared with Scott's 'Old Lady's' version, are obviously corrupt. The last verse should signify that the mothers of Willie and Meggie went up and down the bank saying, 'Clyde's water has done us wrong!'

The ballad is better known as Willie and May Margaret.

The Story.—Willie refuses his mother's request to stay at home, as he wishes to visit his true-love. The mother puts her malison, or curse, upon him, but he rides off. Clyde is roaring, but Willie says, 'Drown me as I come back, but spare me as I go,' which is Martial's

'Parcite dum propero, mergite cum redeo,'

and occurs in other English broadsides. Meggie will not admit Willie, and he rides away. Meggie awakes, and learns that she has dismissed her true-love in her sleep. Our ballad is deficient here, but it is obvious from st. 19 that both lovers are drowned. We must understand, therefore, that Meggie follows Willie across Clyde. A variant of the ballad explains that she found him 'in the deepest pot' in all Clyde's water, and drowned herself.

Child notes that there is a very popular Italian ballad of much the same story, except that the mother's curse is on the girl and not the man.

There is a curious change in the style of spelling from stanza 15 to the end.

CLYDE'S WATER

1. 'Ye gie corn unto my horse, An' meat unto my man, For I will gae to my true-love's gates This night, gin that I can.'

2. 'O stay at hame this ae night, Willie, This ae bare night wi' me; The best bed in a' my house Sall be well made to thee.'

3. 'I carena for your beds, mither, I carena ae pin, For I'll gae to my love's gates This night, gin I can win.'

4. 'O stay, my son Willie, this night, This ae night wi' me; The best hen in a' my roost Sall be well made ready for thee.'

5. 'I carena for your hens, mither, I carena ae pin; I sall gae to my love's gates This night, gin I can win.'

6. 'Gin ye winna stay, my son Willie, This ae bare night wi' me, Gin Clyde's water be deep and fu' o' flood, My malisen drown ye!'

7. He rode up yon high hill, An' down yon dowie glen; The roaring o' Clyde's water Wad hae fleyt ten thousand men.

8. 'O spare me, Clyde's water, O spare me as I gae! Mak me your wrack as I come back, But spare me as I gae!'

9. He rade in, and farther in, Till he came to the chin; And he rade in, and farther in, Till he came to dry lan'.

10. And whan he came to his love's gates, He tirled at the pin. 'Open your gates, Meggie, Open your gates to me, For my beets are fu' o' Clyde's water, And the rain rains oure my chin.'

11. 'I hae nae lovers therout,' she says, 'I hae nae love within; My true-love is in my arms twa, An' nane will I lat in.'

12. 'Open your gates, Meggie, this ae night, Open your gates to me; For Clyde's water is fu' o' flood, An' my mither's malison'll drown me.'

13. 'Ane o' my chamers is fu' o' corn,' she says, 'An' ane is fu' o' hay; Anither is fu' o' gentlemen, An' they winna move till day.'

14. Out waked her May Meggie, Out o' her drousy dream: 'I dreamed a dream sin the yestreen, (God read a' dreams to guid!) That my true-love Willie Was standing at my bed-feet.'

15. 'Now lay ye still, my ae dochter, An' keep my back fra the call', For it's na the space of hafe an hour Sen he gad fra yer hall'.'

16. 'An' hey, Willie, an' hoa, Willie, Winne ye turn agen?' But ay the louder that she crayed He rod agenst the wind.

17. He rod up yon high hill, An' doun yon douey den; The roring that was in Clide's water Wad ha' flayed ten thousand men.

18. He road in, an' farder in, Till he came to the chine; An' he road in, an' farder in, Bat never mare was seen.

... ... ...

19. Ther was na mare seen of that guid lord Bat his hat frae his head; There was na mare seen of that lady Bat her comb an' her sneed.

... ... ...

[Annotations: 6.4: 'malisen,' curse. 7.4: 'fleyt,' frightened. 14.4: 'read,' interpret. 14.6: 'standing,' staring in manuscript. 19.4: 'sneed,' snood, fillet.]



KATHARINE JAFFRAY

The Text is from Herd's MSS., two copies showing a difference of one word and a few spellings. Stt. 3 and 5 are interchanged for the sake of the sense.

Many copies of this ballad exist (Child prints a dozen), but this one is both the shortest and simplest.

The Story.—In The Cruel Brother (First Series, p. 76) it was shown that a lover must 'speak to the brother' of his lady. Here the lesson, it seems, is that he must 'tell the lass herself' before her wedding-day. Katharine, however, not only proves her faith to her first lover (her 'grass-green' dress, 10.2, shows an ill-omened marriage), but prefers the Scot to the Southron. This lesson the ballad drives home in the last two verses.

Presumably Scott founded Young Lochinvar on the story of this ballad, as in six versions the Scots laird bears that name.

KATHARINE JAFFRAY

1. There liv'd a lass in yonder dale, And doun in yonder glen, O, And Kath'rine Jaffray was her name, Well known by many men, O.

2. Out came the Laird of Lauderdale, Out frae the South Countrie, All for to court this pretty maid, Her bridegroom for to be.

3. He has teld her father and mither baith, And a' the rest o' her kin, And has teld the lass hersell, And her consent has win.

4. Then came the Laird of Lochinton, Out frae the English border, All for to court this pretty maid, Well mounted in good order.

5. He's teld her father and mither baith, As I hear sindry say, But he has nae teld the lass hersell, Till on her wedding day.

6. When day was set, and friends were met, And married to be, Lord Lauderdale came to the place, The bridal for to see.

7. 'O are you come for sport, young man? Or are you come for play? Or are you come for a sight o' our bride, Just on her wedding day?'

8. 'I'm nouther come for sport,' he says, 'Nor am I come for play; But if I had one sight o' your bride, I'll mount and ride away.'

9. There was a glass of the red wine Fill'd up them atween, And ay she drank to Lauderdale, Wha her true-love had been.

10. Then he took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, And he mounted her high behind him there, At the bridegroom he askt nae leive.

11. Then the blude run down by Cowden Banks, And down by Cowden Braes, And ay she gard the trumpet sound, 'O this is foul, foul play!'

12. Now a' ye that in England are, Or are in England born, Come nere to Scotland to court a lass, Or else ye'l get the scorn.

13. They haik ye up and settle ye by, Till on your wedding day, And gie ye frogs instead o' fish, And play ye foul, foul play.

[Annotations: 13.1: 'haik ye up,' kidnap (Jamieson), but ? delude, or keep in suspense.]



LIZIE LINDSAY

The Text is from Kinloch's MSS. He obtained it from Mearnsshire, and remarks that according to the tradition of that district the heroine was said to have been a daughter of Lindsay of Edzell, though he had searched in vain for genealogical confirmation of the tradition.

The Story.—'Ballads of this description,' says Professor Child, 'are peculiarly liable to interpolation and debasement.' In this version the most offending stanza is the tenth; and the extra two lines in stt. 22 and 24 also appear to be unnecessary. The anapaestic metre of this version should be noted.

The ballad was and is a great favourite with singers, and the tune may be found in several of the collections of Scottish songs.

LIZIE LINDSAY

1. It's of a young lord o' the Hielands, A bonnie braw castle had he, And he says to his lady mither, 'My boon ye will grant to me: Sall I gae to Edinbruch city, And fesh hame a lady wi' me?'

2. 'Ye may gae to Edinbruch city, And fesh hame a lady wi' thee, But see that ye bring her but flatt'rie, And court her in grit povertie.'

3. 'My coat, mither, sall be o' the plaiden, A tartan kilt oure my knee, Wi' hosens and brogues and the bonnet; I'll court her wi' nae flatt'rie.'

4. Whan he cam to Edinbruch city, He play'd at the ring and the ba', And saw monie a bonnie young ladie, But Lizie Lindsay was first o' them a'.

5. Syne, dress'd in his Hieland grey plaiden, His bonnet abune his e'e-bree, He called on fair Lizie Lindsay; Says, 'Lizie, will ye fancy me?

6. 'And gae to the Hielands, my lassie, And gae, gae wi' me? O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay, I'll feed ye on curds and green whey.

7. 'And ye'se get a bed o' green bracken; My plaidie will hap thee and me; Ye'se lie in my arms, bonnie Lizie, If ye'll gae to the Hielands wi' me.'

8. 'O how can I gae to the Hielands Or how can I gae wi' thee, Whan I dinna ken whare I'm gaing, Nor wha I hae to gae wi'?'

9. 'My father, he is an auld shepherd, My mither, she is an auld dey; My name it is Donald Macdonald, My name I'll never deny.'

10. 'O Donald, I'll gie ye five guineas To sit ae hour in my room, Till I tak aff your ruddy picture; Whan I hae 't, I'll never think lang.'

11. 'I dinna care for your five guineas; It's ye that's the jewel to me; I've plenty o' kye in the Hielands, To feed ye wi' curds and green whey.

12. 'And ye'se get a bonnie blue plaidie, Wi' red and green strips thro' it a'; And I'll be the lord o' your dwalling, And that's the best picture ava'.

13. 'And I am laird o' a' my possessions; The king canna boast o' na mair; And ye'se hae my true heart in keeping, There'll be na ither e'en hae a share.

14. 'Sae gae to the Hielands, my lassie, O gae awa' happy wi' me; O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay. And hird the wee lammies wi' me.'

15. 'O how can I gae wi' a stranger, Oure hills and oure glens frae my hame?' 'I tell ye I am Donald Macdonald; I'll ever be proud o' my name.'

16. Doun cam Lizie Lindsay's ain father, A knicht o' a noble degree; Says, 'If ye do steal my dear daughter, It's hangit ye quickly sall be.'

17. On his heel he turn'd round wi' a bouncie, And a licht lauch he did gie; 'There's nae law in Edinbruch city This day that can dare to hang me.'

18. Then up bespak Lizie's best woman, And a bonnie young lass was she; 'Had I but a mark in my pouchie, It's Donald that I wad gae wi'.'

19. 'O Helen, wad ye leave your coffer, And a' your silk kirtles sae braw, And gang wi' a bare-hough'd puir laddie, And leave father, mither, and a'?

20. 'But I think he's a witch or a warlock, Or something o' that fell degree, For I'll gae awa' wi' young Donald, Whatever my fortune may be.'

21. Then Lizie laid doun her silk mantle, And put on her waiting-maid's goun, And aff and awa' to the Hielands She's gane wi' this young shepherd loun.

22. Thro' glens and oure mountains they wander'd, Till Lizie had scantlie a shoe; 'Alas and ohone!' says fair Lizie, 'Sad was the first day I saw you! I wish I war in Edinbruch city; Fu' sair, sair this pastime I rue.'

23. 'O haud your tongue now, bonnie Lizie, For yonder's the shieling, my hame, And there's my guid auld honest mither, That's coming to meet ye her lane.'

24. 'O ye're welcome, ye're welcome, Sir Donald, Ye're welcome hame to your ain.' 'O ca' me na young Sir Donald, But ca' me Donald my son.' And this they hae spoken in Erse, That Lizie micht not understand.

25. The day being weetie and daggie, They lay till 'twas lang o' the day. 'Win up, win up, bonnie Lizie, And help at the milking the kye.'

26. O slowly raise up Lizie Lindsay, The saut tear blindit her e'e. 'O war I in Edinbruch city, The Hielands shoud never see me!'

27. He led her up to a hie mountain, And bade her look out far and wide. 'I'm lord o' thae isles and thae mountains, And ye're now my beautiful bride.

28. 'Sae rue na ye've come to the Hielands, Sae rue na ye've come aff wi' me, For ye're great Macdonald's braw lady, And will be to the day that ye dee.'

[Annotations: 9.2: 'dey,' dairy-woman. 19.3: 'bare-hough'd,' with bare thighs. 20.1: 'warlock,' wizard. 23.2: 'shieling,' hut. 25.1: 'daggie,' drizzling.]



THE GARDENER

The Text of this pretty little song is taken from Kinloch's MSS., where it is in James Beattie's handwriting. In Five Excellent New Songs, printed at Edinburgh in 1766, there is an older but much corrupted version of this song, confused with two other songs, a 'Thyme' song and the favourite 'I sowed the seeds of love.' It is printed as two songs, The New Lover's Garland and The Young Maid's Answer, both with the following refrain:—

'Brave sailing here, my dear, And better sailing there, And brave sailing in my love's arms, O if I were there!'

The Story is so slight that the song can scarcely be counted as a narrative. But it is one of the lyrical dialogues covered by the word 'ballad,' and was not ruled out by Professor Child. There seems to be a loss of half a verse in 7, which should doubtless be two stanzas.

THE GARDENER

1. The gardener stands in his bower-door, With a primrose in his hand, And by there came a leal maiden, As jimp's a willow wand. And by, etc.

2. 'O lady, can you fancy me, For to be my bride? You'll get a' the flowers in my garden To be to you a weed.

3. 'The lily white shall be your smock, Becomes your body neat; And your head shall be deck'd with jelly-flower, And the primrose in your breast.

4. 'Your gown shall be o' the sweet-william, Your coat o' camovine, And your apron o' the salads neat, That taste baith sweet and fine.

5. 'Your stockings shall be o' the broad kail-blade, That is baith broad and long; And narrow, narrow at the coot, And broad, broad at the brawn.

6. 'Your gloves shall be the marygold, All glittering to your hand, Well spread o'er wi' the blue blaewort, That grows in corn-land.'

7. 'O fare you well, young man,' she says, 'Farewell, and I bid adieu; Since you've provided a weed for me, Among the summer flowers, Then I'll provide another for you, Among the winter showers.

8. 'The new-fallen snow to be your smock, Becomes your body neat; And your head shall be deck'd with the eastern wind, And the cold rain on your breast.'

[Annotations: 2.4: 'weed,' dress. 4.2: 'camovine,' camomile. 5.3: 'coot,' ankle. 5.4: 'brawn,' calf.]



JOHN O' THE SIDE

'He is weil kend, Johne of the Syde, A greater theif did never ryde.'

Sir Richard Maitland.

The Text is from the Percy Folio, but is given in modernised spelling. It lacks the beginning, probably, and one line in st. 3, which can be easily guessed; but as a whole it is an infinitely fresher and better ballad than that inserted in the Minstrelsy of Sir Walter Scott.

The Story is akin to that of Kinmont Willie (p. 49). John of the Side (on the river Liddel, nearly opposite Mangerton) first appears about 1550 in a list of freebooters against whom complaints were laid before the Bishop of Carlisle. He was, it seems, another of the Armstrong family.

Hobby Noble has a ballad[1] to himself (as the hero of the present ballad deserves), in which mention is made of Peter of Whitfield. This is doubtless the person mentioned in the first line of John o' the Side as having been killed presumably by John himself.

[Footnote 1: Child, No. 189, from Caw's Poetical Museum, but not of sufficient merit to be included here.]

'Culertun,' 10.1, is Chollerton on the Tyne. Percy suggests Challerton, and in the ballads upon which Scott founded his version the name is 'Choler-ford.' 'Howbrame wood' and 'Lord Clough' are not identified; and Flanders files, effective as they appear to be, are not otherwise known.

'The ballad,' says Professor Child, 'is one of the best in the world, and enough to make a horse-trooper of any young borderer, had he lacked the impulse.'

JOHN O' THE SIDE

1. Peter o' Whifield he hath slain, And John o' Side, he is ta'en, And John is bound both hand and foot, And to the New-castle he is gone.

2. But tidings came to the Sybil o' the Side, By the water-side as she ran; She took her kirtle by the hem, And fast she run to Mangerton.

3. ... ... ... The lord was set down at his meat; When these tidings she did him tell, Never a morsel might he eat.

4. But lords they wrung their fingers white, Ladies did pull themselves by the hair, Crying 'Alas and welladay! For John o' the Side we shall never see more.

5. 'But we'll go sell our droves of kine, And after them our oxen sell, And after them our troops of sheep, But we will loose him out of the New Castell.'

6. But then bespake him Hobby Noble, And spoke these words wondrous high; Says, 'Give me five men to myself, And I'll fetch John o' the Side to thee.'

7. 'Yea, thou'st have five, Hobby Noble, Of the best that are in this country; I'll give thee five thousand, Hobby Noble, That walk in Tyvidale truly.'

8. 'Nay, I'll have but five,' says Hobby Noble, 'That shall walk away with me; We will ride like no men of war, But like poor badgers we will be.'

9. They stuffed up all their bags with straw, And their steeds barefoot must be; 'Come on, my brethren,' says Hobby Noble, 'Come on your ways, and go with me.'

10. And when they came to Culerton ford, The water was up, they could it not go; And then they were ware of a good old man, How his boy and he were at the plough.

11. 'But stand you still,' says Hobby Noble, 'Stand you still here at this shore, And I will ride to yonder old man, And see where the gate it lies o'er.

12. 'But Christ you save, father!' quoth he, 'Christ both you save and see! Where is the way over this ford? For Christ's sake tell it me.'

13. 'But I have dwelled here three score year, So have I done three score and three; I never saw man nor horse go o'er, Except it were a horse of tree.'

14. 'But fare thou well, thou good old man! The devil in hell I leave with thee, No better comfort here this night Thou gives my brethren here and me.'

15. But when he came to his brether again, And told this tidings full of woe, And then they found a well good gate They might ride o'er by two and two.

16. And when they were come over the ford, All safe gotten at the last, 'Thanks be to God!' says Hobby Noble, 'The worst of our peril is past.'

17. And then they came into Howbrame wood, And there then they found a tree, And cut it down then by the root. The length was thirty foot and three.

18. And four of them did take the plank, As light as it had been a flea, And carried it to the New Castle, Where as John o' Side did lie.

19. And some did climb up by the walls, And some did climb up by the tree, Until they came up to the top of the castle, Where John made his moan truly.

20. He said, 'God be with thee, Sybil o' the Side! My own mother thou art,' quoth he; 'If thou knew this night I were here, A woe woman then wouldst thou be.

21. 'And fare you well, Lord Mangerton! And ever I say God be with thee! For if you knew this night I were here, You would sell your land for to loose me.

22. 'And fare thou well, Much, Miller's son! Much, Miller's son, I say; Thou has been better at mirk midnight Than ever thou was at noon o' the day.

23. 'And fare thou well, my good lord Clough! Thou art thy father's son and heir; Thou never saw him in all thy life But with him durst thou break a spear.

24. 'We are brothers childer nine or ten, And sisters children ten or eleven; We never came to the field to fight, But the worst of us was counted a man.'

25. But then bespake him Hobby Noble, And spake these words unto him; Says 'Sleepest thou, wakest thou, John o' the Side, Or art thou this castle within?'

26. 'But who is there,' quoth John o' the Side, 'That knows my name so right and free?' 'I am a bastard-brother of thine; This night I am comen for to loose thee.'

27. 'Now nay, now nay,' quoth John o' the Side, 'It fears me sore that will not be, For a peck of gold and silver,' John said, 'In faith this night will not loose me.'

28. But then bespake him Hobby Noble, And till his brother thus said he; Says 'Four shall take this matter in hand, And two shall tent our geldings free.'

29. Four did break one door without, Then John brake five himsel'; But when they came to the iron door, It smote twelve upon the bell.

30. 'It fears me sore,' said Much, the Miller, 'That here taken we all shall be;' 'But go away, brethren,' said John o' the Side, 'For ever alas! this will not be.'

31. 'But fie upon thee!' said Hobby Noble; 'Much, the Miller, fie upon thee! It sore fears me,' said Hobby Noble, 'Man that thou wilt never be.'

32. But then he had Flanders files two or thee, And he filed down that iron door, And took John out of the New Castle, And said 'Look thou never come here more!'

33. When he had him forth of the New Castle, 'Away with me, John, thou shalt ride.' But ever alas! it could not be, For John could neither sit nor stride.

34. But then he had sheets two or three, And bound John's bolts fast to his feet, And set him on a well good steed, Himself on another by him set.

35. Then Hobby Noble smiled and lough, And spoke these words in mickle pride; 'Thou sits so finely on thy gelding That, John, thou rides like a bride.'

36. And when they came thorough Howbrame town, John's horse there stumbled at a stone; 'Out and alas!' cried Much, the Miller, 'John, thou'll make us all be ta'en.'

37. 'But fie upon thee!' says Hobby Noble, 'Much, the Miller, fie on thee! I know full well,' says Hobby Noble, 'Man that thou wilt never be.'

38. And when they came into Howbrame wood, He had Flanders files two or three To file John's bolts beside his feet, That he might ride more easily.

39. Says 'John, now leap over a steed!' And John then he lope over five. 'I know well,' says Hobby Noble, 'John, thy fellow is not alive.'

40. Then he brought him home to Mangerton; The lord then he was at his meat; But when John o' the Side he there did see, For fain he could no more eat.

41. He says 'Blest be thou, Hobby Noble, That ever thou wast man born! Thou hast fetched us home good John o' the Side, That was now clean from us gone.'

[Annotations: 8.4: 'badgers,' corn-dealers or pedlars. 9.2: 'barefoot,' unshod. 11.4: 'gate,' way. 12.2: 'see,' protect. 13.4: 'tree,' wood. The Folio gives '3'; Percy suggested the emendation. 23.3: 'him' = man, which is suggested by Furnivall. 28.4: 'tent,' guard. 35.1: 'lough,' laughed. 39.2: 'lope,' leapt.]



JAMIE DOUGLAS AND WALY, WALY, GIN LOVE BE BONNY

The Text of the ballad is here given from Kinloch's MSS., where it is in the handwriting of John Hill Burton when a youth. The text of the song Waly, waly, I take from Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. The song and the ballad have become inextricably confused, and the many variants of the former contain a greater or a smaller proportion of verses apparently taken from the latter.

The Story of the ballad as here told is nevertheless quite simple and straightforward. It is spoken in the first person by the daughter of the Earl of Mar. (She also says she is sister to the Duke of York, 7.4, a person often introduced into ballads.) Blacklaywood, the lady complains, has spoken calumniously of her to her lord, and she leaves him, saying farewell to her children, and taking her youngest son with her.

The ballad is historical in so far as that Lady Barbara Erskine, daughter of the Earl of Mar, was married in 1670 to James, second Marquis of Douglas, and was formally separated from him in 1681. Further, tradition puts the blame of the separation on William Lawrie, factor to the Marquis, often styled the laird of Blackwood ('Blacklaywood,' 2.3), from his wife's family estate.

The non-historical points in the ballad are minor ones. The couple had only one child; and the lady's father could not have come to fetch her away (9.2), as the Earl of Mar died in 1668, before his daughter's wedding.

I have printed the song Waly, waly not because it can be considered a ballad, but simply because it is so closely interwoven with Jamie Douglas. Stanza 6 is reminiscent of the beautiful English quatrain beginning:

'Westron wind, when will thou blow.'

See Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, i. 57.

JAMIE DOUGLAS

1. Waly, waly up the bank, And waly, waly down the brae! And waly, waly to yon burn-side, Where me and my love wunt to gae!

2. As I lay sick, and very sick, And sick was I, and like to die, And Blacklaywood put in my love's ears That he staid in bower too lang wi' me.

3. As I lay sick, and very sick, And sick was I, and like to die, And walking into my garden green, I heard my good lord lichtlie me.

4. Now woe betide ye, Blacklaywood! I'm sure an ill death you must die; Ye'll part me and my ain good lord, And his face again I'll never see.

5. 'Come down stairs now, Jamie Douglas, Come down stairs and drink wine wi' me; I'll set thee into a chair of gold, And not one farthing shall it cost thee.'

6. 'When cockle-shells turn silver bells, And muscles grow on every tree, When frost and snow turn fiery baas, I'll come down the stair and drink wine wi' thee.'

7. 'What's needs me value you, Jamie Douglas, More than you do value me? The Earl of Mar is my father, The Duke of York is my brother gay.

8. 'But when my father gets word o' this, I trow a sorry man he'll be; He'll send four score o' his soldiers brave, To tak me hame to mine ain countrie.'

9. As I lay owre my castell-wa', I beheld my father comin' for me, Wi' trumpets sounding on every side; But they werena music at a' for me.

10. 'And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas! And fare ye weel, my children three! And fare ye weel, my own good lord! For my face again ye shall never see.

11. 'And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas! And fare ye weel, my children three! And fare ye weel now, Jamie Douglas, But my youngest son shall gae wi' me.'

12. 'What ails ye at your youngest son, Sits smilin' at the nurse's knee? I'm sure he never knew any harm, Except it was from his nurse or thee.'

13. ... ... ... ... ... ... And when I was into my coaches set, He made his trumpets a' to soun.'

14. I've heard it said, and it's oft times seen, The hawk that flies far frae her nest; And a' the world shall plainly see It's Jamie Douglas that I love best.

15. I've heard it said, and it's oft times seen, The hawk that flies from tree to tree; And a' the world shall plainly see It's for Jamie Douglas I maun die.

[Annotations: 1.1: 'Waly' = alas! 1.4: 'wunt' = were wont. 3.4: 'lichtlie,' make light of. 6.3: 'baas,' balls.]

WALY, WALY, GIN LOVE BE BONNY

1. O waly, waly up the bank! And waly, waly, down the brae! And waly, waly yon burn-side, Where I and my love wont to gae!

2. I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd, and syne it brak, Sae my true-love did lightly me.

3. O waly, waly! but love be bonny A little time, while it is new; But when it is auld, it waxeth cauld, And fades away like morning dew.

4. O wherefore shoud I busk my head? Or wherefore shoud I kame my hair? For my true-love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair.

5. Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed, The sheets shall ne'er be fyl'd by me; Saint Anton's well shall be my drink, Since my true-love has forsaken me.

6. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am weary.

7. 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemency; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me.

8. When we came in by Glasgow town, We were a comely sight to see; My love was cled in the black velvet, And I mysell in cramasie.

9. But had I wist, before I kiss'd, That love had been sae ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold, And pin'd it with a silver pin.

10. Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee, And I mysell were dead and gane! For a maid again I'll never be.



THE HEIR OF LINNE

The Text is taken from the Percy Folio, but I have modernised the spelling. For the Reliques Percy made a ballad out of the Folio version combined with 'a modern ballad on a similar subject,' a broadside entitled The Drunkard's Legacy, thus producing a very good result which is about thrice the length of the Folio version.

The Scottish variant was noted by Motherwell and Buchan, but previous editors—Herd, Ritson, Chambers, Aytoun—had used Percy's composition.

The Story.—There are several Oriental stories which resemble the ballad as compounded by Percy from The Drunkard's Legacy. In most of these—Tartar, Turkish, Arabic, Persian, etc.—the climax of the story lies in the fact that the hero in attempting to hang himself by a rope fastened to the ceiling pulls down a hidden treasure. There is, of course, no such episode in The Heir of Linne, but all the stories have similar circumstances, and the majority present the moral aspect of unthriftiness, and of friends deserting a man who loses his wealth.

'Linne,' of course, is the place which is so often mentioned in ballads. See note, First Series, p. 1.

THE HEIR OF LINNE

1. Of all the lords in fair Scotland A song I will begin; Amongst them all there dwelled a lord, Which was the unthrifty lord of Linne.

2. His father and mother were dead him fro, And so was the head of all his kin; To the cards and dice that he did run He did neither cease nor blin.

3. To drink the wine that was so clear, With every man he would make merry; And then bespake him John of the Scales, Unto the heir of Linne said he;

4. Says 'How dost thou, lord of Linne? Dost either want gold or fee? Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broad To such a good fellow as me?

5. 'For ... I ... ,' he said, 'My land, take it unto thee.' 'I draw you to record, my lordes all.' With that he cast him a God's penny.

6. He told him the gold upon the board, It wanted never a bare penny. 'That gold is thine, the land is mine; The heir of Linne I will be.'

7. 'Here's gold enough,' saith the heir of Linne, 'Both for me and my company.' He drunk the wine that was so clear, And with every man he made merry.

8. Within three-quarters of a year His gold and fee it waxed thin, His merry men were from him gone, And left him himself all alone.

9. He had never a penny left in his purse, Never a penny left but three, And one was brass, and another was lead, And another was white money.

10. 'Now welladay!' said the heir of Linne, 'Now welladay, and woe is me! For when I was the lord of Linne, I neither wanted gold nor fee.

11. 'For I have sold my lands so broad, And have not left me one penny; I must go now and take some read Unto Edinburgh, and beg my bread.'

12. He had not been in Edinburgh Not three-quarters of a year, But some did give him, and some said nay, And some bid 'To the deil gang ye!

13. 'For if we should hang any landless fere, The first we would begin with thee.' 'Now welladay!' said the heir of Linne, 'Now welladay, and woe is me!

14. 'For now I have sold my lands so broad, That merry man is irk with me; But when that I was the lord of Linne, Then on my land I lived merrily.

15. 'And now I have sold my land so broad, That I have not left me one penny! God be with my father!' he said, 'On his land he lived merrily.'

16. Still in a study there as he stood, He unbethought him of a bill— He unbethought him of a bill Which his father had left with him.

17. Bade him he should never on it look Till he was in extreme need; 'And by my faith,' said the heir of Linne, 'Than now I had never more need.'

18. He took the bill, and looked it on, Good comfort that he found there; It told him of a castle wall Where there stood three chests in fere.

19. Two were full of the beaten gold, The third was full of white money. He turned then down his bags of bread, And filled them full of gold so red.

20. Then he did never cease nor blin, Till John of the Scales' house he did win. When that he came to John of the Scales, Up at the speer he looked then.

21. There sat three lords upon a row, And John o' the Scales sat at the board's head, And John o' the Scales sat at the board's head, Because he was the lord of Linne.

22. And then bespake the heir of Linne, To John o' the Scales' wife thus said he; Said, 'Dame, wilt thou not trust me one shot That I may sit down in this company?'

23. 'Now Christ's curse on my head,' she said, 'If I do trust thee one penny!' Then bespake a good fellow, Which sat by John o' the Scales his knee;

24. Said, 'Have thou here, thou heir of Linne, Forty pence I will lend thee; Some time a good fellow thou hast been; And other forty if need be.'

25. They drunken wine that was so clear, And every man they made merry; And then bespake him John o' the Scales, Unto the lord of Linne said he;

26. Said, 'How dost thou, heir of Linne, Since I did buy thy lands of thee? I will sell it to thee twenty pound better cheap Nor ever I did buy it of thee.'

27. 'I draw you to record, lordes all;' With that he cast him a God's penny; Then he took to his bags of bread, And they were full of the gold so red.

28. He told him the gold then over the board, It wanted never a broad penny. 'That gold is thine, the land is mine, And heir of Linne again I will be.'

29. 'Now welladay!' said John o' the Scales' wife, 'Welladay, and woe is me! Yesterday I was the lady of Linne, And now I am but John o' the Scales' wife!'

30. Says 'Have thou here, thou good fellow, Forty pence thou did lend me, Forty pence thou did lend me, And forty pound I will give thee.

31. 'I'll make thee keeper of my forest, Both of the wild deer and the tame,' ... ... ... ... ... ...

32. But then bespake the heir of Linne, These were the words, and thus said he, 'Christ's curse light upon my crown, If e'er my land stand in any jeopardy!'

[Annotations: 2.3,4: Interchanged in manuscript. 2.4: 'blin,' stop. 5.1: Deficient in manuscript. 5.4: 'God's penny,' an earnest-penny, to clinch a bargain. 11.3: 'read,' advice. 13.1: 'fere,' companion. 14.2: 'irk with,' weary of. 16.2: 'unbethought him,' bethought himself. See Old Robin of Portingale, 5.3 (First Series, p. 14). 18.4:'in fere,' together. 19.4: ? 'gold and fee.' Cp. 27.4 20.4: Ritson said 'speer' was a hole in the wall of a house, through which the family received and answered the inquiries of strangers. This is apparently a mere conjecture. 22.3: 'shot,' reckoning. Cp. 'pay the shot.' 27.4: See 19.4 and note.]



EARL BOTHWELL

The Text is from the Percy Folio, the spelling being modernised. Percy printed it (with alterations) in the Reliques.