12_The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 5 (of 5)

‘If that service ye now do want,

What station will ye be?

Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,

Or milk the cows to me?’

‘No, I can neither card nor spin,

Nor cows I canno milk,

But sit into a lady’s bower

And sew the seams o silk.’

‘What is your name, ye comely dame?

Pray tell this unto me:’

‘O Blancheflour, that is my name,

Born in a strange countrie.’

‘O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice--

My ain dear son is he--

When other ladies get a gift,

O that ye shall get three.’

It wasna tald into the bower

Till it went thro the ha,

That Jellyflorice and Blancheflour

Were grown ower great witha.

When the queen’s maids their visits paid,

Upo the gude Yule-day,

When other ladies got horse to ride,

She boud take foot and gae.

The queen she calld her stable-groom,

To come to her right seen;

Says, Ye’ll take out yon wild waith steed

And bring him to the green.

‘Ye’ll take the bridle frae his head,

The lighters frae his een;

Ere she ride three times roun the cross,

Her weel-days will be dune.’

Jellyflorice his true-love spy’d

As she rade roun the cross,

And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,

And took her frae her horse.

‘Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,

For a’ my mother’s spite;

There’s nae other amang her maids,

In whom I take delight.

‘Ye are my jewel, and only ane,

Nane’s do you injury;

For ere this-day-month come and gang

My wedded wife ye’se be.’

301

THE QUEEN OF SCOTLAND

‘The Queen of Scotland,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I,

46; Motherwell’s MS., p. 577.

A queen in the king’s absence invites young Troy Muir to her bower and

bed; he declines, and the queen resolves to do him an ill turn. She

tells him that if he will lift a stone in the garden he will find in a

pit under the stone gold enough to buy him a dukedom. The next morning

Troy Muir lifts the stone, and a long-starved serpent winds itself

round his middle. A maid comes by and allays the serpent’s rage by

cutting off her pap for him. Troy Muir is immediately released and the

wound in the maid’s breast heals in an hour. Troy Muir marries the maid

the same day; she bears him a son, and by heaven’s grace recovers her

pap thereupon.

The insipid ballad may have been rhymed from some insipid tale.

Motherwell conjectured that Troy Muir stands for Triamour, but the

story here has no sort of resemblance to the romance.

‘O Troy Muir, my lily-flower,

An asking I’ll ask thee;

Will ye come to my bigley bower

And drink the wine wi me?’

‘My dame, this is too much honour

You have conferrd on me;

I’m sure it’s mair than I’ve deservd

Frae sic a one as thee.’

‘In Reekie’s towers I hae a bower,

And pictures round it set;

There is a bed that is well made,

Where you and I shall sleep.’

‘O God forbid,’ this youth then said,

‘That ever I drie sic blame

As ever to touch the queen’s bodie,

Altho the king’s frae hame.’

When that he had these words spoken,

She secretly did say,

Some evil I shall work this man,

Before that it be day.

Whan a’ her maids were gane to bed,

And knights were gane frae hame,

She calld upon young Troy Muir,

To put fire in her room.

‘An asking, asking, Troy Muir,

An asking ye’ll grant me;’

‘O, if it be a lawful thing,

My dame it’s granted be.’

‘There is a stane in yon garden,

Nae are lifts it for me;

But if that ye woud lift the same,

A brave man I’ll ca thee.

‘Under yon stane there is a pit,

Most dreary for to see,

And in it there’s as much red gowd

As buy a dukedom to thee.’

‘O if I had ae sleep in bed,

And saw the morning sun,

As soon’s I rise and see the skies,

Your will it shall be done.’

When birds did sing, and sun did rise,

And sweetly sang the lark,

Troy Muir to the garden went,

To work this dreary wark.

He’s taen the stane then by a ring,

And lifted manfullie;

A serpent that lang wanted meat

Round Troy Muir’s middle did flee.

‘How shall I get rid o this foul beast?

It’s by it I must dee;

I never thought the queen, my friend,

Woud work this mischief to me.’

But by there came a weelfaird may,

As Troy Muir did tauk,

The serpent’s furious rage to lay,

Cut aff her fair white pap.

As soon as she the same had done,

Young Troy Muir was set free,

And in ane hour the wound was heald,

That nae mair pain had she.

Says Troy Muir, My lily-flower,

Ye hae releasëd me;

But before I see another day,

My wedded wife ye’se be.

He married her on that same day,

Brought her to his ain hame;

A lovely son to him she bare,

When full nine months were gane.

As heaven was pleasd, in a short time,

To ease her first sad pain,

Sae was it pleasd, when she’d a son,

To hae a pap again.

302

YOUNG BEARWELL

‘Young Bearwell,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 75;

Motherwell’s MS., p. 456, derived from Buchan; Motherwell’s Minstrelsy,

p. 345.

This is one of half a dozen pieces sent Buchan by Mr Nicol of Strichen,

“who wrote them from memory as he had learned them in his earlier years

from old people.” It is also one of not a few flimsy and unjointed

ballads found in Buchan’s volumes, the like of which is hardly to be

found elsewhere, that require a respectable voucher, such as Mr Nicol

undoubtedly was, for the other five pieces communicated by him were all

above suspicion, and have a considerable value. It will not, however,

help the ballad much that it was not palmed off on Buchan in jest or

otherwise, or even if it was learned from an old person by Mr Nicol

in his youth. The intrinsic character of the ballad remains, and old

people have sometimes burdened their memory with worthless things.

Young Bearwell and a mayor’s daughter are lovers. Seeing him coming

along one day, the lady tells him that there are such reports in

circulation about him that he will have to sail the sea beyond

Yorkisfauld, which may be beyond Ultima Thule for aught we know.

Bearwell’s life is in danger where he is, and the lady has had the

forethought to build him a ship, in which she sends him off. By the

process of sailing both east and west and then meeting wind from the

north, he is blown to a land where the king and court, who pass their

time mostly in playing ball, put a harp into the hand of every stranger

and invite him to stay and play. Bearwell stays, and perhaps plays,

twelve months. During this time the lady is so beset with suitors that

she feels constrained to apply to a young skipper named Heyvalin to

fetch her true-love back. To do this he must sail first east, then

west, and then have a blast of north wind to blow him to the land.

All this comes to pass; the king and court are playing ball, but

immediately put a harp into Heyvalin’s hand and urge him to stay and

play. Skipper though he be, he falls to playing, and finds Bearwell the

first man in all the company.

“From circumstances,” which do not occur to me, Motherwell would almost

be inclined to trace this piece to a Danish source, “or it may be an

episode of some forgotten metrical romance.” It may also, and more

probably, be the effort of some amateur ballad-monger in northern

Scotland whose imagination was unequal to the finishing of the inane

story which he had undertaken.

When two lovers love each other well,

Great sin it were them to twinn;

And this I speak from Young Bearwell;

He loved a lady young,

The Mayor’s daughter of Birktoun-brae,

That lovely, leesome thing.

One day when she was looking out,

When washing her milk-white hands,

That she beheld him Young Bearwell,

As he came in the sands.

Says, Wae’s me for you, Young Bearwell,

Such tales of you are tauld;

They’ll cause you sail the salt sea so far

As beyond Yorkisfauld.

. . . . . . .

. . . . . .

‘O shall I bide in good greenwood,

Or stay in bower with thee?’

‘The leaves are thick in good greenwood,

Would hold you from the rain;

And if you stay in bower with me

You will be taken and slain.

‘But I caused build a ship for you

Upon Saint Innocent’s day;

I’ll bid Saint Innocent be your guide,

And Our Lady, that meikle may.

You are a lady’s first true-love,

God carry you well away!’

Then he sailed east, and he sailed west,

By many a comely strand;

At length a puff of northern wind

Did blow him to the land.

When he did see the king and court,

Were playing at the ba;

Gave him a harp into his hand,

Says, Stay, Bearwell, and play.

He had not been in the king’s court

A twelvemonth and a day,

Till there came lairds and lords anew

To court that lady gay.

They wooed her with brooch and ring,

They nothing could keep back;

The very charters of their lands

Into her hands they pat.

She’s done her down to Heyvalin,

With the light of the moon;

Says, Will ye do this deed for me,

And will ye do it soon?

‘Will ye go seek him Young Bearwell,

On seas wherever he be?

And if I live and bruik my life

Rewarded ye shall be.’

‘Alas, I am too young a skipper,

So far to sail the faem;

But if I live and bruik my life

I’ll strive to bring him hame.’

So he has saild east and then saild west,

By many a comely strand,

Till there came a blast of northern wind

And blew him to the land.

And there the king and all his court

Were playing at the ba;

Gave him a harp into his hand,

Says, Stay, Heyvalin, and play.

He has tane up the harp in hand,

And unto play went he,

And Young Bearwell was the first man

In all that companie.

* * * * * * *

303

THE HOLY NUNNERY

‘The Holy Nunnery,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 193.

Willie’s father and mother have vowed that he shall never marry Annie.

Annie resolves that she will be a nun, asks her father’s consent and

obtains it readily. At the nunnery-gate there is a maiden porter ‘wi

gowd upon her hat,’ who would not have been quite out of place at the

wicket of the garden of the Rose. Porter though she be, she seems to

exercise the authority of a mother-superior. Annie asks admission,

‘there to live or die,’ and is allowed to come in on terms: never to

kiss a young man’s mouth, and to work hard; conditions not surprising,

but there is another which is unusual, never to go to church (or is

it Kirk that is meant?) Annie is seven years in the nunnery, all

which time Willie lies languishing. His mother asks him if there is

nothing that would help him; there is nothing, he says, but his love

Annie. They dress him up like a lady, in silk and gold, he goes to the

nunnery-gate, and the maiden porter ‘wi gowd upon her hat’ makes no

difficulty about letting him in. Annie knows him, and says, Come up, my

sister dear. Willie essays to kiss her lips, but she whispers, This I

dare not avow. The rest is wanting, and again we may doubt whether the

balladist had not exhausted himself, whether a story so begun could be

brought to any conclusion.

Fair Annie had a costly bower,

Well built wi lime and stane,

And Willie came to visit her,

Wi the light o the meen.

When he came to Annie’s bower-door,

He tirled at the pin:

‘Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Fair Annie,

Ye’ll open, lat me come in.’

‘O never a fit,’ says Fair Annie,

‘Till I your errand ken;’

‘My father’s vowd a vow, Annie,

I’ll tell you when I’m in.

‘My father’s vowed a rash vow,

I darena marry thee;

My mither’s vowed anither vow,

My bride ye’se never be.’

‘If ye had tauld me that, Willie,

When we began to woo,

There was naithing in this warld wide

Shoud drawn my love to you.

‘A nun, a nun,’ said Fair Annie,

‘A nun will I be then;’

‘A priest, a priest,’ said Sweet Willie,

‘A priest will I be syne.’

She is gane to her father,

For mither she had nane;

And she is on to her father,

To see if she’d be a nun.

‘An asking, asking, father dear,

An asking ye’ll grant me;

That’s to get to the holy nunnery,

And there to live or die.’

‘Your asking’s nae sae great, daughter,

But granted it shall be;

For ye’se won to the holy nunnery,

There to live or die.’

Then they gaed on, and farther on,

Till they came to the yate;

And there they spied a maiden porter,

Wi gowd upon her hat.

‘An asking, asking, maiden porter,

An asking ye’ll grant me;

If I’ll won to the holy nunnery,

There to live or die.’

‘Your asking’s nae sae great, lady,

But granted it shall be;

For ye’se won to the holy nunnery,

There to live or die.

‘But ye maun vow a vow, lady,

Before that ye seek in;

Never to kiss a young man’s mouth

That goes upon the grun.

‘And ye must vow anither vow,

Severely ye must work;

The well-warst vow that ye’re to vow,

Is never to gang to kirk.’

‘I will vow a vow,’ she said,

‘Before that I seek in;

I neer shall kiss a young man’s mouth

That goes upon the grun.

‘And I will vow anither vow,

Severely I will work;

The well-warst vow that I’m to vow

Is never to gang to kirk.’

For seven years now Fair Annie,

In the holy nunnery lay she,

And seven years Sweet Willie lay,

In languish like to die.

‘Is there nae duke nor lord’s daughter,

My son, can comfort thee,

And save thee frae the gates o death?

Is there nae remedie?’

‘There is nae duke nor lord’s daughter,

Mother, can comfort me,

Except it be my love, Annie,

In the holy nunnery lies she.’

They’ve dressd Sweet Willie up in silk,

Wi gowd his gown did shine,

And nane coud ken by his pale face

But he was a lady fine.

So they gaed on, and farther on,

Till they came to the yate,

And there they spied a maiden porter,

Wi gowd upon her hat.

‘An asking, an asking, maiden porter,

An asking ye’ll grant me;

For to win in to the holy nunnery,

Fair Annie for to see.’

‘Your asking’s nae sae great, lady,

But granted it shall be;

Ye’se won into the holy nunnery,

Fair Annie for to see.

‘Be she duke’s or lord’s daughter,

It’s lang sin she came here:’

Fair Annie kent her true love’s face;

Says, Come up, my sister dear.

Sweet Willie went to kiss her lips,

As he had wont to do;

But she softly whispered him,

I darena this avow.

304

YOUNG RONALD

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 282; Motherwell’s MS.,

p. 601, derived from Buchan.

Young Ronald, a noble squire, but still school-boy (11, 29), lays his

love on the daughter of the king of Linne, a locality which, as it

occurs several times in ballads, we are glad to learn is not far from

Windsor. In the course of an interview with the lady in her garden, she

tells him that though she entirely feels the honor he has done her,

she must be subject to her father’s will. Ronald’s father and mother

are greatly concerned for their son, seeing that the lady has already

rejected many suitors. He pays his love a second visit, and protests

that for her sake he would fight long and hard. Be not too hasty, she

answers; you must buckle with a more dangerous foe than you wot of, ere

you win me by war. She proceeds to explain that her father will have to

go to war the next day with a giant who has been very troublesome, and

then to make him various offers with the view of enlisting him in the

affair; among which are two standard rings, one of which will stanch

the blood of any of his men who may be hurt, the other prevent the

drawing of his own blood.

Young Ronald reports to his father the encouragement which he has

received from his love, the impending contest with the giant, and the

gifts which she has made him; and the father, on his part, promises

him a company of a hundred well-armed men. Supported by these, and

invigorated by a third meeting in the garden, Ronald rides proudly to

the field. The giant, who is handicapped with three heads on his neck,

and three more on his breast, challenges the king of Linne to combat,

and the king offers his daughter and a third of his lands to any

champion who will undertake the giant. Ronald is ready, and, according

to the rule in such cases, disdains the offer of any reward but the

daughter. The thought of her gives him a lion’s courage, and such

potency to his arm that he cuts off all the six heads of the giant at

one sweep.

If any lover of ballads should feel his understanding insulted by the

presentation of such a piece as this, I can have no quarrel with him.

There is certainly much in it that is exasperating,--the greeters in

the school, the lifting of the hat, and, most of all, perhaps, the

mint in meadows. These are, however, the writer’s own property; the

nicking with nay and the giant are borrowed from romances. In this and

not a very few other cases, I have suppressed disgust, and admitted an

actually worthless and a manifestly--at least in part--spurious ballad,

because of a remote possibility that it might contain relics, or be a

debased representative, of something genuine and better. Such was the

advice of my lamented friend, Grundtvig, in more instances than those

in which I have brought myself to defer to his judgment.

It fell upon the Lammas time,

When flowers were fresh and green,

And craig and cleugh was covered ower

With cloathing that was clean.

’Twas at that time a noble squire,

Sprung from an ancient line,

Laid his love on a lady fair,

The king’s daughter o Linne.

When cocks did craw, and day did daw,

And mint in meadows sprang,

Young Ronald and his little wee boy

They rode the way alang.

So they rode on, and farther on,

To yonder pleasant green,

And there he spied that lady fair,

In her garden alane.

These two together lang they stood,

And love’s tale there they taul;

The glancing o her fair color

Did Ronald’s own impale.

He lifted’s hat, and thus he spake;

O pity have on me!

For I could pledge what is my right,

All for the sake of thee.

‘Ye’re young amo your mirth, kind sir,

And fair o your dull hours;

There’s nae a lady in a’ London

But might be your paramour.

‘But I’m too young to wed, kind sir,

You must not take it ill;

Whate’er my father bids me do,

I maun be at his will.’

He kissd her then and took his leave,

His heart was all in pride,

And he is on to Windsor gone,

And his boy by his side.

And when he unto Windsor came,

And lighted on the green,

There he spied his mother dear,

Was walking there alane.

‘Where have ye been, my son, Ronald,

From gude school-house, this day?’

‘I hae been at Linne, mother,

Seeing yon bonny may.’

‘O wae’s me for you now, Ronald,

For she will not you hae;

For mony a knight and bauld baron

She’s nickd them a’ wi nae.’

Young Ronald’s done him to his bower,

And he took bed and lay;

Nae woman could come in his sight,

For the thoughts o this well-fard may.

Then in it came his father dear,

Well belted in a brand;

The tears ran frae his twa gray eyes,

All for his lovely son.

Then Ronald calld his stable-groom

To come right speedilie;

Says, Ye’ll gang to yon stable, boy,

And saddle a steed for me.

‘His saddle o the guid red gowd,

His bits be o the steel,

His bridle o a glittering hue;

See that ye saddle him weel.

‘For I’ve heard greeters at your school-house,

Near thirty in a day;

But for to hear an auld man greet,

It passes bairns’ play.’

When cocks did craw, and day did daw,

And mint in meadows sprang,

Young Ronald and his little wee boy

The way they rode alang.

So they rode on, and further on,

To yonder pleasant green,

And there they saw that lady fair,

In her garden alane.

And twenty times before he ceasd

He kissd her lips sae clear,

And said, Dear lady, for your sake,

I’ll fight fell lang and sair.

‘Full haste, nae speed, for me, kind sir,’

Replied the lady clear;

‘Far better bucklings ye maun bide

Or ye gain my love by weir.

‘King Honour is my father’s name,

The morn to war maun fare,

And that’s to fight a proud giant,

That’s wrought him muckle care.

‘Along wi him he is to take

Baith noble knights and squires;

I woud wish you as well-dressd a knight

As ony will be there.

‘And I’ll gie you a thousand crowns,

To part amang your men;

A robe upon your ain body,

Weel sewd wi my ain hand.

‘Likewise a ring, a royal thing,

The virtue it is gude;

If ony o your men be hurt,

It soon will stem their blude.

‘Another ring, a royal thing,

Whose virtue is well known;

As lang’s this ring your body’s on,

Your bluid shall neer be drawn.’

He kissd her then, and took his leave,

His heart was all in pride,

And he is on to Windsor gone,

And his boy by his side.

And when he unto Windsor came,

And lighted on the green,

There he saw his auld father,

Was walking him alane.

‘Where hae ye been, my son, Ronald,

From gude school-house the day?’

‘O I hae been at Linne, father,

Seeking yon bonny may.’

‘O wae’s me for you now, Ronald,

For she will not you hae;

Mony a knight and bauld baron

She’s nickd them a’ wi nay.’

‘O had your tongue, my father dear,

Lat a’ your folly be;

The last words that I wi her spake,

Her love was granted me.

‘King Honour is her father’s name,

The morn to war maun fare,

And that’s to fight a proud giant,

That’s wrought him muckle care.

‘Alang wi him he means to take

Baith knights and noble squires;

And she wishes me as well drest a knight

As ony will be there.

‘And she’s gaen me a thousand crowns,

To part amang my men;

A robe upon my ain body,

Weel sewd wi her ain hand.

‘Likewise a ring, a royal thing,

The virtue it is gude;

If ony o my men be hurt,

It soon will stem their blude.

‘Another ring, a royal thing,

Whose virtue is unknown;

As lang’s this ring my body’s on,

My blude will neer be drawn.’

‘If that be true, my son, Ronald,

That ye hae tauld to me,

I’ll gie to you an hundred men,

To bear you companie.

‘Besides as muckle gude harness

As carry them on the lee;

It is a company gude enough

For sic a squire as thee.’

When cocks did craw, and day did daw,

And mint in meadows spread,

Young Ronald and his merry young men

Were ready for to ride.

So they rode on, and farther on,

To yonder pleasant green,

And there they spied that lady fair,

In her garden, sair mourning.

These twa together lang they stood,

And love’s tale there they taul,

Till her father and his merry young men

Had ridden seven mile.

He kissd her then, and took his leave,

His heart was all in pride,

And then he sprang alang the road

As sparks do frae the gleed.

Then to his great steed he set spur;

He being swift o feet,

They soon arrived on the plain,

Where all the rest did meet.

Then flew the foul thief frae the west,

His make was never seen;

He had three heads upon ae hause,

Three heads on ae breast-bane.

He bauldly stept up to the king,

Seiz’d ’s steed in his right hand;

Says, Here I am, a valiant man,

Fight me now if ye can.

‘Where is the man in a’ my train

Will take this deed in hand?

And he shall hae my daughter dear,

And third part o my land.’

‘O here am I,’ said young Ronald,

‘Will take the deed in hand;

And ye’ll gie me your daughter dear,

I’ll seek nane o your land.’

‘I woudna for my life, Ronald,

This day I left you here;

Remember ye yon lady gay

For you shed mony a tear.’

Fan he did mind on that lady

That he left him behind,

He hadna mair fear to fight

Nor a lion frae a chain.

Then he cut aff the giant’s heads

Wi ae sweep o his hand,

Gaed hame and married that lady,

And heird her father’s land.

* * * * *

5^3. collar.

5^4. one _for_ own.

14^2. and a.

26^3. ring’s: _cf._ 36^3.

33^1. I mean: _cf._ 23^1.

36^2. Which: _cf._ 26^2.

305

THE OUTLAW MURRAY

=A.=

=a.= ‘The Sang of the Outlaw Murray,’ Herd’s MSS, II, fol. 76; ‘The

Outlaw Murray,’ I, 255. =b.= ‘The Sang of the Outlaw Murray,’ Scott’s

Minstrelsy, second edition, 1803, I, 1. =c.= ‘The Song of the Outlaw

Murray,’ Aytoun’s Ballads of Scotland, 1859, II, 131, “from an old

manuscript in the Philiphaugh charter-chest.” =d.= ‘The Sang of the

Outlaw Murray,’ the copy now extant among the Philiphaugh papers.

=B.= ‘An old song called Outlaw Murray,’ Glenriddell MSS, XI, 61, 1791.

=C.= ‘Outlaw Murray, an antient historical ballad,’ fragments, “Scotch

Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 31, Abbotsford, in the

handwriting of William Laidlaw.

First printed in Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802, I, 1.

=A a=, =b=, =c= (disregarding Scott’s interpolations in =b=), do

not differ more than transcripts of one original may be expected to

do, remembering that copyists are apt to indulge in trivial verbal

improvements.[103] =a= was sent David Herd, with a letter dated January

12, 1795, by Andrew Plummer, Sheriff-Depute of Selkirk, as received by

carrier from a lady, who neglected to impart how she came by the copy.

In this instance, contrary to what I believe to be the general rule,

the second volume of Herd’s MSS seems to have the original text.[104]

=a= was printed, but not with absolute fidelity, by Maidment, Scotish

Ballads and Songs, 1868, II, 66. For =b=, “the copy principally

resorted to,” says Scott, “is one, apparently of considerable

antiquity, which was found among the papers of the late Mrs Cockburn

of Edinburgh.” Scott made occasional use of Herd’s MS. and of

Glenriddell’s, inserted some stanzas which he had received from Sheriff

Plummer, and in the second edition (otherwise slightly altered) two

stanzas from the recitation of Mungo Park. Mrs Cockburn’s MS. evidently

agreed very nearly with the copy in Herd, so far as the latter goes.

I much regret that exertions made to secure the Cockburn MS. did

not result successfully. =c.= “From a note appended to the ballad,

explanatory of its circumstances, in which reference is made to Lord

Philiphaugh (a judge of Session) as being then alive,” says Aytoun,

“the manuscript must have been written between the years 1689 and

1702.”[105] The original manuscript, unfortunately and inexplicably, is

no longer in the Philiphaugh archives, and has not come to light after

search. The text, if earlier transcribed, shows no internal evidence

of superior age, and exhibits several inferior readings,--two that are

highly objectionable.[106] =d=, the copy actually preserved among the

Philiphaugh papers, is evinced by a watermark to be not older than

1848. It shows variations from Aytoun’s printed text which cannot be

other than wilful alterations.

=B=, which is both defective, corrupted, and chargeable with flat

repetition, and =C=, a few fragmentary verses, are all that have been

retrieved from tradition, although Scott says that the ballad “has been

for ages a popular song in Selkirkshire.”

A manuscript copy was understood to be in possession of the late Mr

George Wilson, S. S. C., Edinburgh, but, as in the case of the original

of the Philiphaugh MS. and in that of Mrs Cockburn’s copy, inquiry and

search were fruitless.

The king of Scotland is informed that there is an Outlaw in Ettrick

Forest who makes no account of him; the king vows that he will be

king of Ettrick Forest, or the Outlaw shall be king of Scotland. Earl

Hamilton advises that an envoy be sent to the Outlaw to ascertain

whether he is willing to do homage to the king and hold the forest of

him; if the Outlaw should refuse, then they will proceed to extremities

with him. The king sends Boyd, Earl of Arran, to announce his terms:

the Outlaw is to do homage; otherwise he and his lands will be

subjugated, his castle levelled, his wife made a widow, and his men

be hanged. The messenger demands of the Outlaw, in the king’s name,

of whom he holds his lands; the Outlaw replies that the lands are his

own, won by himself from the Southron, and that he recognizes no king

in Christendom. The messenger intimates that it will nevertheless be

necessary for the Outlaw to do homage to the king of Scotland, under

the penalties before mentioned. Many of the king’s nobles shall lie

cold first, he replies. Boyd reports to his master that the Outlaw

claims to hold the forest by his own right, which he will maintain

against all kings in Christendom; the king prepares to enforce his

sovereignty with five thousand men.

The Outlaw vows that the king shall pay dear for his coming, and

sends for succor to three of his kinsmen, all of whom promise help.

As the king approaches the forest, Hamilton ventures to give further

advice: that the Outlaw should be summoned to come with four of his

best men to meet the king and five earls; fire, sword, and forfeiture

to follow upon refusal. The Outlaw bethinks himself of his children,

and complies. He and his company fall on their knees and implore the

king’s mercy; his mercy shall be the gallows, says the king. The Outlaw

protests again that he won his lands from the enemy, and as he won them

so will he keep them, against all kings in Christendom; but having

indulged in this vaunt asks mercy again, and offers to give up the

keys of his castle if the king will constitute him and his successors

sheriffs of the forest. The king, on his part, is equally ready for a

compromise. The Outlaw, on surrendering the keys of his castle, shall

be made sheriff of Ettrick Forest, and shall never be forfeited as long

as he continues loyal, and his men shall have pardon if they amend

their lives. After all the strong language on both sides, the Outlaw

has only to name his lands (but gives a very imperfect list), and the

king (waiving complete particulars) renders him whatever he is pleased

to claim, and makes him sheriff of Ettrick Forest while upwards grows

the tree.

So far all the copies of =A= concur, as to the story, except that =c=

22, 33, by an absurd corruption, makes the Outlaw to have won his

lands, not from the Soudron, the Soudronie, but from Soldan Turk, the

Soldanie; in which respect =A c= is followed by =B= 26, =C= 3, 5.

Between 52 and 53, =b= introduces this passage:

Then spak the kene laird of Buckscleuth,

A stalworthye man and sterne was he:

‘For a king to gang an outlaw till

Is beneath his state and his dignitie.

‘The man that wons yon foreste intill,

He lives by reif and felonie;

Wher_e_fore, brayd on, my sovereign liege,

Wi fire and sword we’ll follow thee,

Or, gif your courtrie lords fa back,

Our borderers sall the onset gie.’

Then out and spak the nobil king,

And round him cast a wilie ee:

‘Now haud thy tongue, Sir Walter Scott,

Nor speik of reif nor felonie,

For had everye honeste man his awin kye,

A right puir clan thy name wad be.’[107]

=B= represents that the king, after appointing a meeting with the

Outlaw ‘in number not above two or three,’ comes with a company of

three hundred, which violation of the mutual understanding naturally

leads the Outlaw to expect treachery. The king, however, not only

proceeds in good faith, but, without any stipulations, at once makes

the Outlaw laird of the Forest.

From the note, otherwise of no value, which accompanies the Philiphaugh

MS., it is clear that the ballad was known before 1700; how much

earlier it is to be put we can neither ascertain nor safely conjecture,

but we may say that there is nothing in the language of the piece as it

stands which obliges us to assign it a much higher antiquity.[108]

As to James Murray, laird of Traquair, whose lands the king had gifted

lang syne, =A= 45^3, 48^1, Sheriff Plummer remarks in Herd’s MS.:

“Willielmus de Moravia had forfeited the lands of ‘trakware’ ante annum

1464. As of that date I have a charter of these lands, proceeding

upon his forfeiture, granted Willielmo Douglas de Cluny.” Thomas Boyd

was created Earl of Arran after his marriage with the eldest sister

of James III, 1467. The Earl of Hamilton is mentioned =A= 7^1, 50^1.

Sheriff Plummer observes that there was an earl of that surname till

1503.

Scott, in his preface in the Border Minstrelsy, after professing

himself unable to ascertain the foundation of the tale, goes on to

state the following historical possibilities:

“This ballad ... commemorates a transaction supposed to have taken

place betwixt a Scottish monarch and an ancestor of the ancient family

of Murray of Philiphaugh in Selkirkshire.... It is certain that during

the civil wars betwixt Bruce and Baliol the family of Philiphaugh

existed and was powerful, for their ancestor, Archibald de Moravia,

subscribes the oath of fealty to Edward I, A. D. 1296. It is therefore

not unlikely that, residing in a wild and frontier country, they

may have, at one period or other during these commotions, refused

allegiance to the feeble monarch of the day, and thus extorted from

him some grant of territory or jurisdiction. It is also certain that,

by a charter from James IV, dated November 30, 1509, John Murray of

Philiphaugh is vested with the dignity of heritable Sheriff of Ettrick

Forest, an office held by his descendants till the final abolition

of such jurisdictions by 28th George II, cap. 23. But it seems

difficult to believe that the circumstances mentioned in the ballad

could occur under the reign of so vigorous a monarch as James IV. It

is true that the _dramatis personæ_ introduced seem to refer to the

end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth century; but from

this it can only be argued that the author himself lived soon after

that period. It may therefore be supposed (unless further evidence

can be produced tending to invalidate the conclusion) that the bard,

willing to pay his court to the family, has connected his grant of the

sheriffship by James IV with some former dispute betwixt the Murrays

of Philiphaugh and their sovereign, occurring either while they were

engaged upon the side of Baliol, or in the subsequent reigns of David

II and Robert II and III, when the English possessed great part of the

Scottish frontier, and the rest was in so lawless a state as hardly to

acknowledge any superior.

“At the same time, this reasoning is not absolutely conclusive. James

IV had particular reasons for desiring that Ettrick Forest, which

actually formed part of the jointure-lands of Margaret, his queen,

should be kept in a state of tranquillity: Rymer, vol. xiii, p. 66.

In order to accomplish this object, it was natural for him, according

to the policy of his predecessors, to invest one great family with

the power of keeping order among the rest. It is even probable that

the Philiphaugh family may have had claims upon part of the lordship

of Ettrick Forest, which lay intermingled with their own extensive

possessions, and in the course of arranging, not, indeed, the feudal

superiority, but the property of these lands, a dispute may have arisen

of sufficient importance to be the groundwork of a ballad.

“It is farther probable that the Murrays, like other Border clans, were

in a very lawless state, and held their lands merely by occupancy,

without any feudal right. Indeed, the lands of the various proprietors

in Ettrick Forest (being a royal demesne) were held by the possessors,

not in property, but as the kindly tenants, or rentallers, of the

crown.... This state of possession naturally led to a confusion

of rights and claims. The kings of Scotland were often reduced to

the humiliating necessity of compromising such matters with their

rebellious subjects, and James himself even entered into a sort of

league with Johnnie Faa, the king of the gypsies. Perhaps, therefore,

the tradition handed down in this way may have had more foundation than

it would at present be proper positively to assert.”

In the way of comment upon these surmises of Scott, which proceed

mainly upon what we do not know, it may be alleged that we have a

fairly good record of the relations of Selkirkshire to the Scottish

crown during the fourteenth century, when this district was so often

changing hands between the English and the Scotch, and that there is no

indication of any Murray having been concerned in winning it from the

Southron, as is pretended in the ballad, either then or at any time,

so that this part of the story may be set down as pure invention.[109]

Hardly less fictitious seems to be the dispute between the Scottish

king and a Murray, in relation to the tenure. The Murrays first became

connected with Selkirkshire in 1461. John de Moravia then acquired the

lands of Philiphaugh, and was afterwards appointed Custos of Newark

Castle, and came into possession of Hangingshaw and Lewinshope. All

of these are attributed to the Outlaw in the ballad. This John Murray

was a contemporary of Boyd, Earl of Arran, and of the forfeited Murray

of Traquair, but, with all this, nobody has pitched upon him for

the Outlaw; and it would not have been a happy idea, for he was on

perfectly good terms, and even in great favor, with the court under

James III. His grandson, John Murray, was in equal or greater favor

with James IV, and was made hereditary Sheriff of Selkirk in 1509, and

for this last reason has been proposed for the Outlaw, though “nothing

could be more improbable than that this orderly, ‘circumspect,’ and

law-enforcing officer of the crown should ever take up an attitude of

rebellious defiance so diametrically opposed to all we really know of

his character and conduct.”[110]

Scott thought that light might be thrown upon the history of the ballad

by the Philiphaugh family papers. Mr Craig-Brown gave them the accurate

examination which Scott suggested, and came to the same conclusion

as Aytoun, that the story told in the ballad is, if not altogether

fictitious, at least greatly exaggerated. He is inclined to think that

“some clue to the date of the ballad lies in the minstrel’s animus

against the house of Buccleuch” (shown only in =A b=). “James Murray,

tenth laird,” he says, “is the last mentioned in the family MSS as

possessor of Newark, which castle passed into the hands of Buccleuch

either in his lifetime or that of his successor, Patrick Murray. After

the death of James IV at Flodden, the Queen-Regent complained loudly

of Buccleuch’s encroachment upon her dowry lands of Ettrick Forest,

the Custos of which domain had Newark for a residence. Buccleuch

continued to keep his hold, and, as he could only do so by displacing

Murray, the ill-will of the latter family was a natural consequence.

By way of showing the earlier and superior title of the Murrays, the

ballad-writer has either invented the story _in toto_, or has amplified

the tradition of an actual visit paid to a former Murray by the king.

Both Sir Walter Scott and the compiler of the Family Records are of

opinion that John Murray, eighth laird, is the presumptive Outlaw of

the song; and, as he was undoubtedly in great favor with King James

IV, nothing is more likely than that the young monarch may have ended

one of his hunting-expeditions to the Forest by confirming John in his

hereditary sheriffship, interrupted for a few years by the appointment

of Lord Home. As a matter of fact, John Murray did in 1509 obtain a

royal charter from his sovereign, of the sheriffship; but, as the

office had been vacant since 1506, there is nothing improbable in the

supposition that he had already claimed the family rights and taken

possession of the castle. Indeed, in 1503, he acted as sheriff at the

queen’s infeftment in her dowry-lands of Ettrick Forest. It would have

been in thorough keeping with all that is known of James IV if his

Majesty had taken the opportunity to give his favorite a half-jesting

reproof for his presumption; but that Murray was ever seriously

outlawed is out of the question. His king heaped honors on him; and

only eighty years after his death his descendant obtained a feudal

precept of his lands for gratuitous services rendered to the crown by

his family, ‘without default at any time in their due obedience as

became faithful subjects.’ So that, granted a royal progress to Newark,

followed by Murray’s investiture with the sheriffship, the poet remains

chargeable with considerable embellishment. A glorification of the

family of Philiphaugh and a sneer at the rapacity of Buccleuch are the

evident motives of his rhyme.”[111]

“The tradition of Ettrick Forest,” says Scott, Minstrelsy, 2d ed.,

1803, I, 4, “bears that the Outlaw was a man of prodigious strength,

possessing a batton or club with which he laid lee (_i. e._ waste)

the country for many miles round, and that he was at length slain by

Buccleuch or some of his clan.”[112] This account is not in keeping

with the conception of the Outlaw given by the ballad, but indicates

the ferocious robber and murderer, the Cacus of popular story, of

whom no doubt the world was actually once very guilty, and of whom

there are many specimens in British tradition as elsewhere.[113]

As such he seems to turn up again in Galloway, where he haunts a

forest of Kirkcudbrightshire, called the Black Morrow wood, from

which he sallies out “in the neighboring country at night, committing

horrible outrages.” Of this personage, Mactaggart, in his Gallovidian

Encyclopedia, p. 73, says:

“Tradition has him a Blackimore, ... but my opinion is that he was no

Blackimore; he never saw Africa; his name must have been Murray, and as

he must have been, too, an outlaw and a bloody man, gloomy with foul

crimes,[114] Black prefaced it, as it did Black Douglass, and that of

others; so he became Black Murray.” And he adds that this pest was

disposed of by the people pouring a barrel of spirits into a spring one

night when he was out on his rambles, whereof drinking the next day,

he was made drunk and fell asleep, in which condition his foes dirked

him; or according to others, one of the McLellans of Kirkcudbright took

to the wood single-handed, found the outlaw sleeping, and drove a dirk

through his head, whence the head on the dagger in the McLellans’ coat

of arms.[115]

2. The castle, says Scott, is supposed by the common people to have

been the castle of Newark; but “this is highly improbable, because

Newark was always a royal fortress.” The only important point, however,

would seem to be who was the keeper of the castle. The Douglasses

are spoken of as holding it from about 1326 to 1455; John de Moravia

was Custos after 1462. The Outlaw’s five hundred men are shooting on

Newark lee in =A b= 18^4, and Newark lee is twice mentioned elsewhere

in that copy. Sheriff Plummer in his letter to Herd says: This I take

to be the castle of New-wark, on the west end of which are the arms

of Scotland supported by two unicorns. But in Scott’s preface we are

told that Sheriff Plummer has assured the editor that he remembered the

_insignia_ of the unicorns, etc., so often mentioned in the ballad, in

existence upon the old tower at Hangingshaw. Whether the etc. covers

the picture of the knight and the lady bright, and Sheriff Plummer had

therefore changed his opinion, does not appear.

15^3. “Birkendale brae, now commonly called Birkendailly [see =C= 2^1],

is a steep descent at the south side of Minchmoor, which separates

Tweed-dale from the Forest, at the top of which you come first in sight

of New-wark Castle.” Plummer’s letter to Herd.

19. Mr MacRitchie, II, 141 ff., considers that the Lincoln green

dresses of the Outlaw’s men, and perhaps the purple of the Outlaw and

his wife, show that they were “gypsies,” not perhaps of a swarthy

color, but still people “living a certain archaic ‘heathen’ life,” at

any rate a “wild and lawless life,” and “refusing to follow the course

of civilization.” This inference from the costume seems to be not quite

necessary, unless, or even if, all outlaws are “gypsies.” Robin Hood,

in ‘Robin Hood and Queen Katherine,’ is dressed in scarlet red, and his

men in Lincoln green (III, 199, 201). But green is the regular attire

for men who shoot with the bow, III, 76 f., 91. Johnie Cock, when going

out to ding the dun deer down, puts on Lincoln green, III, 3 ff. Will

Stewart, even, when only going to a ball-match, clothes his men in

green, and himself in scarlet red, II, 434, 437.

51. “Penman’s core, generally called Perman’s core [Permanscore in

Scott, ed. 1833], is a nick or hollow on the top of a high ridge of

hills a little to the east of Minchmoor.” Plummer, as before. In =B=

50, poor man’s house; 52, poor man’s score.[116]

=a.= Herd’s MSS, II, fol. 76, I, 255, 1795. =b.= Minstrelsy of the

Scottish Border, 1803, I, 1; principally from a copy found among the

papers of the late Mrs Cockburn, of Edinburgh. =c.= Aytoun’s Ballads

of Scotland, 1859, II, 131; “from an old manuscript in the Philiphaugh

charter-chest,” now not accessible. =d.= A copy among the Philiphaugh

papers, transcribed not earlier than 1848.

Etrick Forest is a fair foreste,

In it grows manie a semelie trie;

The hart, the hynd, the dae, the rae,

And of a’ [wylde] beastis grete plentie.

There’s a castell biggit with lime and stane,

O gin it stands not pleasantlie!

In the fore front o that castell fair

Twa unicorns are bra to see.

There’s the picture of a knight and a ladye bright,

And the grene hollin aboon their brie;

There an Outlaw keepis five hundred men,

He keepis a royalle companie.

His merrie men are in [ae] liverie clad,

Of the Lincoln grene so fair to see;

He and his ladie in purple clad,

O if they live not royallie!

Word is gane to our nobell king,

In Edinburgh where that he lay,

That there was an Outlaw in Etterick forest

Counted him nought and all his courtrie gay.

‘I mak a vowe,’ then the goode king said,

‘Unto the man that dear bought me,

I’se either be king of Etrick forest,

Or king of Scotland that Outlaw’s bee.’

Then spak the erle hight Hamilton,

And to the noble king said he;

My sovereign prince, sum counsell tak,

First of your nobles, syne of me.

‘I redd you send yon bra Outlaw till

And see gif your man cum will he;

Desire him cum and be your man,

And hald of you yon forest frie.

‘And gif he refuses to do that,

We’ll conquess both his lands and he,

Or else we’ll throw his castell down,

And mak a widowe of his gaye ladie.’

The king called on a gentleman,

James Boyd, Erle of Arran; his brother was he;

When James he came before the king

He fell before him on his knie.

‘Welcum, James Boyd,’ said our nobil king,

‘A message ye maun gang for me;

Ye maun hie to Etrick forrest,

To yon Outlaw, where dwelleth he.

‘Ask hym of quhom he haldis his lands,

Or, man, wha may his master be;

Desyre him come and be my man,

And hald of me yon forrest frie.

‘To Edinburgh to cum and gang

His safe-warrand I sall be;

And, gif he refuses to do that,

We’ll conquess baith his lands and he.

‘Thou mayst vow I’ll cast his castell doun,

And mak a widow of his gay ladie;

I’ll hang his merrie men pair by pair

In ony frith where I may them see.’

James Boyd took his leave of the nobill king,

To Etrick forrest fair came he;

Down Birkendale brae when that he cam,

He saw the fair forest with his ee.

Baith dae and rae and hart and hynd,

And of all wylde beastis grete plentie;

He heard the bows that bauldly ring,

And arrows whidderand near him by.

Of the fair castell he got a sight,

The like he nere saw with his ee;

On the fore front of that castell

Twa unicorns were bra to see.

The picture of a knight and a ladie bright,

And the grene hollin aboon their brie;

Thereat he spy’d five hundred men,

Shuting with bows upon the lee.

They a’ were in ae liverie clad,

Of the Lincoln grene, sae fair to see;

The knight and his ladye in purple clad;

O gif they lived right royallie!

Therefore he kend he was master-man,

And served him in his ain degree.

‘God mot thee save, brave Outlaw Murray,

Thy ladie and a’ thy chivalrie!’

‘Marry, thou’s wellcum, gentleman,

Sum king’s-messenger thou seems to be.’

‘The King of Scotland sent me hier,

And, gude Outlaw, I’m sent to thee;

I wad wat of whom ye hald your lands,

Or, man, wha may thy master be.’

‘Thir landis are mine,’ the Outlaw said,

‘I own na king in Christentie;

Frae Soudron I this forest wan,

When the king nor’s knights were not to see.’

‘He desires you’l come to Edinburgh,

And hald of him this forest frie;

And gif you refuse to do this,

He’ll conquess both thy landis and thee;

He has vowd to cast thy castell down,

And make a widow of thy gaye ladie.

‘He’ll hang thy merrie men pair by pair,

In ony frith where he may them finde;’

‘Aye, by my troth,’ the Outlaw said,

‘Then wad I think me far behinde.

‘Eere the king my fair countrie get,

This land that’s nativest to me,

Mony of his nobils sall be cauld,

Their ladies sall be right wearie.’

Then spak his ladye fair of face,

She said, Without consent of me

That an outlaw shuld come before the king:

I am right rad of treasonrie.

‘Bid him be gude to his lordis at hame,

For Edinburgh my lord sall never see:’

James tuke his leave of the Outlaw keene,

To Edinburgh boun is he.

And when he came before the king,

He fell before him on his knie:

‘Wellcum, James Boyd,’ said the nobil king,

‘What foreste is Etrick forest frie?’

‘Etrick forest is the fairest forest

That ever man saw with his ee;

There’s the dae, the rae, the hart, the hynde,

And of all wild beastis great plentie.

‘There’s a prittie castell of lime and stone,

O gif it stands not pleasauntlie!

There’s on the fore side of that castell

Twa unicorns sae bra to see.

‘There’s the picture of a knight and [a] ladie bright,

And the grene hollin aboon their brie;

There the Outlaw keepis five hundred men,

O gif they live not royallie!

‘His merry men in [ae] liverie clad,

O the Lincoln grene, so fair to see;

He and his ladye in purple clad,

O gif they live not royallie!

‘He says yon forest is his ain,

He wan it from the Soudronie;

Sae as he won it, sae will he keep it,

Contrair all kings in Christentie.’

‘Gar ray my horse,’ said the nobil king,

‘To Etrick [forest] hie will I me;’

Then he gard graith five thousand men,

And sent them on for the forest frie.

Then word is gane the Outlaw till,

In Etrick forest where dwelleth he,

That the king was cumand to his cuntrie,

To conquess baith his lands and he.

‘I mak a vow,’ the Outlaw said,

‘I mak a vow, and that trulie,

Were there but three men to tak my part,

Yon king’s cuming full deir suld be.’

Then messengers he called forth,

And bade them haste them speedilie:

‘Ane of you go to Halliday,

The laird of the Corehead is he.

‘He certain is my sister’s son,

Bid him cum quick and succour me;

Tell Halliday with thee to cum,

And shaw him a’ the veritie.’

‘What news? what news,’ said Halliday,

‘Man, frae thy master unto me?’

‘Not as ye wad; seeking your aid;

The king’s his mortal enemie.’

‘Aye, by my troth,’ quoth Halliday,

‘Even for that it repenteth me;

For, gif he lose fair Ettrick forest,

He’ll take fair Moffatdale frae me.

‘I’ll meet him wi five hundred men,

And surely mae, if mae may be:’

[The Outlaw calld a messenger,

And bid him hie him speedily.]

‘To Andrew Murray of Cockpool,

That man’s a deir cousin to me;

Desire him cum and make me aid,

With all the power that he may be.

‘The king has vowd to cast my castell down,

And mak a widow of my gay ladye;

He’ll hang my merry men pair by pair

I[n] ony place where he may them see.’

‘It stands me hard,’ quoth Andrew Murray,

‘Judge if it stands not hard with me,

To enter against a king with crown,

And put my lands in jeopardie.

‘Yet, gif I cum not on the daye,

Surelie at night he sall me see:’

To Sir James Murray, laird of Traquair,

A message came right speedilie.

‘What news? what news,’ James Murray said,

‘Man, frae thy master unto me?’

‘What needs I tell? for well ye ken

The king’s his mortal enemie.

‘He desires ye’ll cum and make him aid,

With all the powers that ye may be:’

‘And, by my troth,’ James Murray said,

‘With that Outlaw I’ll live and die.

‘The king has gifted my lands lang syne,

It can not be nae war with me;’

. . . . . . . .

The king was cumand thro Cadden ford,

And fiftene thousand men was he;

They saw the forest them before,

They thought it awsom for to see.

Then spak the erle hight Hamilton,

And to the nobil king said he,

My sovereign prince, sum counsell take,

First at your nobles, syne at me.

‘Desyre him meet you at Penman’s Core,

And bring four in his cumpanie;

Fyve erles sall gang yoursell before,

Gude cause that you suld honord be.

‘And, if he refuses to do that,

Wi fire and sword we’ll follow thee;

There sall never a Murray after him

Have land in Etrick forest frie.’

The king then called a gentleman,

Royal-banner-bearer then was he,

James Hope Pringle of Torsonse by name;

He came and knelit upon his knie.

‘Welcum, James Pringle of Torsonse;

Ye man a message gae for me;

Ye man gae to yon Outlaw Murray,

Surely where bauldly bideth he.

‘Bid him meet me at Penman’s Core,

And bring four of his companie;

Five erles sall cum wi mysell,

Gude reason I suld honord be.

‘And if he refuses to do that,

Bid him look for nae gude o me;

There sall never a Murray after him

Have land in Etric forest frie.’

James came before the Outlaw keene,

And served him in his ain degree:

‘Wellcum, James Pringle of Torsonse,

What tidings frae the king to me?’

‘He bids you meet him at Penman’s Core,

And bring four of your companie;

Five erles will cum with the king,

Nae more in number will he be.

‘And gif you refuse to do that,

I freely here upgive with thee,

There will never a Murray after thee

Have land in Etrick forest frie.

‘He’ll cast your bonny castell down,

And make a widow of your gay ladie,

He’ll hang your merry men pair by pair

In ony place where he may them see.’

‘It stands me hard,’ the Outlaw said,

‘Judge if it stands not hard with me;

I reck not of losing of mysell,

But all my offspring after me.

‘Auld Haliday, young Haliday,

Ye sall be twa to gang wi me;

Andrew Murray and Sir James Murray,

We’ll be nae mae in cumpanie.’

When that they came before the king,

They fell before him on their knee:

‘Grant mercy, mercy, royal king,

Een for his sake who died on tre!’

‘Sicken-like mercy sall ye have,

On gallows ye sall hangit be;’

‘God forbid!’ quo the Outlaw then,

‘I hope your Grace will better be.

‘These lands of Etrick forest fair,

I wan them frae the enemie;

Like as I wan them, sae will I keep them,

Contrair all kings in Christentie.’

All the nobilis said, the king about,

Pitye it were to see him die:

‘Yet graunt me mercye, sovereign prince,

Extend your favour unto me!

‘I’ll give you the keys of my castell,

With the blessing of my fair ladie;

Mak me the sheriff of the forest,

And all my offspring after me.’

‘Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castell,

With the blessing of thy fair ladye?

I’ll mak the[e] shiryff of the forest,

Surely while upwards grows the trie;

If you be not traytour to the king,

Forfaulted sall ye never be.’

‘But, prince, what sall cum o my men?

When I go back, traitour they’ll ca me;

I had rather lose my life and land,

Eer my merry men rebukëd me.’

‘Will your merry men amend their lives

And all their pardouns I grant thee:

Now name thy landes whe’ere they be,

And here I render them to thee.’

‘Fair Philiphaugh, prince, is my awin,

I biggit it wi lime and stane;

The Tinnies and the Hangingshaw,

My leige, are native steeds of mine.

‘.. .. .. .

. . . . . . .

I have mony steeds in the forest shaw,

But them by name I dinna knaw.’

The keys of the castell he gave the king,

With the blessing of his fair ladye;

He was made sheryff of Etrick forest,

Surely while upward grows the trie;

And, if he was not traytour to the king,

Forfaulted he suld never be.

Wha ever heard, in ony tymes,

Sicken an outlaw in his degree

Sic favour get before a king

As did the Outlaw Murray of the forest frie?

Glenriddell’s MSS, XI, 61, 1791.

Etterick Forest’s a pleasant land,

And it grows mony a bonny tree;

With buck and doe and a’ wild beast,

A castle stands right bonnilie.

Yon castle has twa unicorns,

The like I never saw wi my ee,

The picture of a knight and lady bright,

And the green hollin’s aboon her [bree].

Word is gane to Edinbro town

. . . . . . .

That there’s an Outlaw in Etterick forest

That keeps as fine a court as he.

The king has sworn a solemn oath,

And he has sworn by [the Virgin Mary],

He would either be king of Etterick forest,

Or king of Scotland the Outlaw should be.

He has ca’d up Mr James Boyd,

A highland laird I’m sure was he:

‘Ye must gae to Etterick forest

And see of wha he hads his land,

And wha pays yon men meat and fee.’

He’s tane his leave o the king and court,

Een as hard as he may dree;

When he came in o’er Loudon edge,

He viewed the forest wi his eee.

He thought it was as pleasant a land

As ever his two eyes did see,

But when he came in oer ...,

They were a’ ranked on Newark lee.

O waly, but they were bonny to see!

Five hundred men playing at the ba;

They were a’ clad in the Lincoln green,

And the Outlaw’s sell in taffety.

‘Weel met you save, Outlaw,’ he says,

‘You and your brave companie;

The King of Scotland hath sent me here,

To see whom on you hold your lands,

Or who pays thir men meat and fee.’

The first ae man the answer made,

It was the Outlaw he:

‘The lands they are all mine,

And I pay thir men meat and fee,

And as I wan them so will I lose them,

Contrair the kings o Cristendie.

‘I never was a king’s subject,

And a king’s subject I’ll never be;

For I wan them i the fields fighting,

Where him and his nobles durst not come and see.’

O out bespeaks the Outlaw’s lady,

I wot she spake right wisely;

‘Be good unto your nobles at home,

For Edinbro mine shall never see;’

But meat and drink o the best I’m sure got he.

He has taen his leave o the Outlaw free,

And een as hard as he may dree,

While he came to the king’s court,

Where he kneeld low down on his knee.

‘What news? what news, James,’ he says,

‘Frae yon Outlaw and his company?’

‘Yon forest is as fine a land

As ever I did see.

‘Yon Outlaw keeps as fine a court

As any king in Cristendie;

Yon lands they are here all his own,

And he pays yon men meat and fee,

And as he wan them so will he lose them,

Contrair the kings of Cristendie.

‘He never was a king’s subject,

And a king’s subject he’ll never be;

For he wan them in the fields fighting,

Where the king and his nobles durst not come to see.’

The king has sworn a solemn oath,

And he has sworn by the Virgin Mary,

He would either be king of Etterick forest,

Or king of Scotland the Outlaw should be.

The king has ca’d up Mr James Pringle,

Laird of Torson[s]e at the time was he:

‘Ye must gae to Etterick forest,

And see wha of he hads his land,

And wha pays yon men meat and fee.’

19-25==6-12.

‘And as I wan them so will I lose them,

Contrair the kings o Cristendie;

I wan them frae the Soudan Turk,

When their cuckold king durst not come to see;

For I wan them in the fields fighting,

Where him and his nobles durst not come to see.’

27-32==12-17.

‘Gar warn me Perthshire and Angus both,

Fifeshire up and down, and Loudons three,

For I fear of them we hae great need,

. . . . . . . .’

Then word is come to the Outlaw then,

‘Our noble king comes on the morn,

Landless men ye will a’ be;’

He’s called up his little foot-page,

His sister’s son I trow was he.

‘Ye must tak Etterick head

Een as hard as ye can drie;

Ye must gae to the Corhead and tell

Andrew Brown this frae me.

‘The noble king comes in the morn,

And landless men we will a’ be;

. . . . . . .

And tell him to send me some supply.’

The boy has taen Etterick head,

And een as hard as he may drie,

Till he came to the Corhead,

And he shouted out and cry’d well he.

‘What news? what news, my little boy?

What news has thy master to me?’

‘The noble king comes in the morn,

And landless then ye will a’ be.

‘Ye must meet him on the morn,

And mak him some supply;’

‘For if he get the forest fair frae him,

He’ll hae Moffat-dale frae me.

‘I’ll meet him the morn wi five hundred men,

And fifty mair, if they may be;

And if he get the forest fair

We’ll a’ die on the Newark lee.’

Word is gane to the Border then,

To . . ., the country-keeper I’m sure was he:

‘The noble king comes in the morn,

And landless men ye will a’ be.’

‘I’ll meet him the morn wi five hundred men,

And fifty mair, if they may be;

And if he get the forest fair,

We’ll a’ die on the Newark lee.’

Word is gane to Philiphaugh,

His sister’s son I’m sure was he,

To meet him the morn wi some supply,

‘For the noble king comes in the morn,

And landless men ye will a’ be.’

‘In the day I daur not be seen,

For he took a’ my lands frae me

And gifted me them back again;

Therefore against him I must not be;

For if I be found against him rebel,

It will be counted great treason[rie].

‘In the day I daur not be seen,

But in the night he shall me find

With five hundred men and fifty, if they may be,

And before he get the forest fair

We’ll a’ die on the Newark lee.’

When the king came in oer Loudon edge,

Wi three thousand weel teld was he,

And when he came in oer ...

He viewd that forest wi his ee.

The Outlaw and his men were a’

Ranked on the Newark lee;

They were a’ clad in the Lincoln green,

And he himsell in the taffety.

An auld grey-haird knight has taen aff his cap,

. . . . . . .

‘Pardon, pardon, my sovereign liege,

Two or three words to speak wi you.

‘If you please to send for the Outlaw,

To see if he could with you agree,

There’s not a man yon Outlaw has

But of yours he’ll choose to be.’

The king he has taen af his cap,

He held it on his majesty;

‘I’ll meet him the morn at the poor man’s house,

In number not above two or three;’

The Outlaw says, I’ll hae as few as thee.

‘There’s Andrew Brown, and Andrew Murray,

And Mess James Murray shall gang wi me,

. . . . . . . .

And nae mae shall my number be.’

And when they came to the poor man’s core

They waited two lang hours or three,

And they were aware of the noble king coming.

And hundreds three in his company.

‘I wonder what the muckle Deel

He’ll learned kings to lie,

For to fetch me here frae amang my men

Even like a dog for to die;

But before I gang to Edinbro town

Monny toom saddles shall there be.’

The king he has taen aff his cap;

. . . . . .

‘It [were] great offence here,’ he says,

‘And great pity to see thee die.

‘For thou shalt be laerd o this forest fair

As lang as upwards grows the tree

And downward the twa rivers run,

If the steads thou can but rightly name to me.’

‘There’s Hangingshaw high and Hangingshaw laigh,

. . . . . . .

The Tinis and the Tinis-burn,

The Newark and the Newark lee.’

* * * * * * *

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 31, Abbotsford;

in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.

‘Gae fetch to me James Pringle wi hast,

An see that he come speedilie,

For he maun on to Ettrick forest,

An see whae pays yon men meat and fee.’

When James Pringle cam down oer Birkendalee,

The hawks war yellin right loudlie,

The hunds war rinnin oer hill and dale,

As the bugle-horn soundit bonnilie.

‘Gae tell yer king this land’s my ain,

An to thir men I pay meat and fee;

I took it thrae the Souden Turk,

When nae sic cuckold king might be.

‘Sae as I wan, sae will I lose,

Spite o the kings in Christendie;

I never was a king’s subject,

Nor a king’s subject will I ever be.’

‘Outlaw Murray says yon land’s his ain,

And to yon men he pays meat and fee;

He took it frae the Souden Turk,

When you and your men durstna come and see.’

It was than the king he gat up in hast,

An wow an angrie man was he!

‘I’se either be king o Ettrick forest,

Or king o Scotland sal he be.

‘Gar warn me Fife an a’ Lothian land,

An Perth an Angus, to ride wi me,

For gin we war five thousan strang

Master and mair I fear he’ll be.’

When the king came oer be Birkendalee,

He spy’d the forest wi his ee;

There war daes an raes an monie wild beast,

An a castle stannin right bonnilie.

An in that castle a unicorn,

An, waly, but they war fair to see!

A warlike knight and a lady bright,

An the green halleen aboon her bree.

An Outlaw Murray an his merry men

War a’ rankit up i the Newark lee,

Well mountit on a milk-white steed;

Waly, he rankit them bonnilie!

His men war a clad oer wi green,

An he was clad i the taffatie,

Wi belt an pistle by his side;

O waly, but they war fair to see!

* * * * * * *

‘Haliday young an Haliday auld,

Ye ir the men that man ride wi me;

But gin we war five hunder strang

Master an mair I fear they’ll be.’

* * * * * * *

‘Philliphaugh it is my ain,

An Newark it belangs to me;

Lewinshope an Hanginshaw

Nae mortal man can claim thrae me.’

* * * * * * *

It was than James Boyd got up in hast,

An to his merry men a’ spak he;

. . . . . . .

* * * * *

=A.=

=a.=

_The division of stanzas as made in the MS. has been changed in

19^5-23^6, 68^5-73^6. Of course all the stanzas were originally of

four verses, but in some cases it is not now possible to determine at

what points verses have been lost. Two lines are in the MS. indicated

(conjecturally, no doubt) to have dropped out after 41^2, 48^2, 70^4.

41^{3,4} have been supplied from the copy in Herd’s first volume.

There are asterisks in Herd_ =I= _after 52^4._

1^4. _Cf._ 16^2, 29^4, _and_ =b=.

4^1, 32^1. _Cf._ 19^1 _and_ =b=. _But_ =c= _agrees with_ =a=.

5^1. _Side note in MS._: James II, 1454.

31^4. lived.

34^2. _Cf._ =b=, =c=.

_Variations in Herd, I (not regarding spelling)._ 2^4, 4^1. are

_wanting_. 3^2. the brie.

3^3. hundir.

5^4. his country.

6^1. then _wanting_.

11^4. he dwelleth he.

16^4. him near by.

17^3. fair front.

21^3. land.

31^1. and a.

31^3. keeps him: hunder.

35^1. Outlaws (_wrongly_).

41^{3,4}. _As supplied in the text._ _Cf._ =c=.

58^2. bring him four.

58^4. Nae mae.

62^4. nae mair.

63^4. sake that.

65^1. Thir.

68^3. mak thee.

68^4. upward.

=b.=

1^3. There’s hart and hynd and dae and rae.

1^4. wilde beastes.

2^1. a feir.

3^3. keeps.

4^1. are a’ in ae.

4^2. sae gaye.

4^4. gin they lived.

5^4. nor a’.

6^4. outlaw sall.

7^1, 50^1. the lord.

7^4. at your: at me.

8^1. ye.

9^1. And _wanting_.

9^2, 12^1, 13^4, 21^3, 35^4, 44^4, 48^1, 65^1, 70^3. landis.

10^1. then called a.

10^2. the erle.

10^4. He knelit.

11^4. where bydeth.

12^3. And desyre.

13^2. sall gie.

16^4. hym neir bi.

17^1. Of that.

17^3. castell feir.

17^4. were gaye.

18^4. on Newark lee.

19^1. were a’.

19^2. sae gaye.

19^4. 1802, gin. 1803, _instead of_ 19^{3,4}:

His men were a’ clad in the grene,

The knight was armed capapie,

With a bended bow, on a milk-white steed,

And I wot they ranked right bonilie.

19^5. Thereby Boyd.

20^4. seemis.

22^2. I ken.

22^4. his knightis.

23^3, 37^3, 58^1. ye.

23^5. hath.

25^3, 50^4. nobilis.

26^3. befor a.

27^3. James Boyd.

28^1. When James he.

28^2. He knelit lowlie on: seyd our.

30^3. in the forefront.

31^1. and a.

31^2. Wi the.

31^4. He keepis a royalle cumpanie.

32^1. in ae.

32^2. sae gaye.

32^4. gin.

33^2. frae the Southronie.

33^4, 65^4. kingis.

34.

‘Gar warn me Perthshire and Angus baith,

Fife up and down and the Louthians three, (_cf._ =B= 33^{1,2})

And graith my horse,’ said the nobil king,

‘For to Ettricke Foreste hie will I me.’

35^3. 1803, cuming.

36^4. 1802, cumand.

37^2. hie them.

37^3, 69^2. gae.

38^{3,4}.

The king cums on for Ettricke Foreste,

And landless men we a’ will be. (_Cf._ =B= 34.)

40^1. said.

41^2. surely mair.

_Between 41^{1,2} and 41^{3,4}_:

And before he gets the Foreste feir,

We a’ will die on Newark Lee. (_Cf._ =B= 40.)

41^{3,4}.

The Outlaw calld a messenger,

And bid him hie him speedilye.

43. _wanting_.

44^1. Andrew Murray said.

44^2, 61^2. gif: na.

44^4. And set.

45^1. if.

45^3. laird _wanting_.

47^{1,2}.

And now he is cuming (1802, cumand) to Ettricke Foreste,

And landless men ye a’ will be. (_Cf._ =B= 41^{3,4}).

47^4. will I live.

48^2. 1802, canna: warse.

49^1. 1803, cuming.

49^2. full five.

49^3. the derke.

50^3. sovereign liege.

51^1. mete thee.

52^1, 56^1. gif.

52^2. We’ll conquess baith his landis and he.

52^4. Hald.

_Between 52 and 53_:

Then spak the kene laird of Buckscleuth,

A stalworthye man and sterne was he;

‘For a king to gang an Outlaw till

Is beneath his state and his dignitie.

‘The man that wons yon Foreste intill,

He lives by reif and felonie;

Wherefore, brayd on, my sovereign liege,

Wi fire and sword we’ll follow thee; (_see_ =a= 52^2)

Or, gif your courtrie lords fa back,

Our borderers sall the onset gie.’

Then out and spak the nobil king,

And round him cast a wilie ee;

‘Now haud thy tongue, sir Walter Scott,

Nor speik of reif nor felonie,

For, had everye honeste man his awin kye,

A right puir clan thy name wad be.’

53^2. there was.

53^3. Hop.

54^2. A message ye maun gang.

55^2, 58^2. four in.

57^4. What message.

58^3. erles sall gang himsell befor.

59^{3,4}.

He’ll cast yon bonny castle down,

And mak a widowe o that gaye ladye.

60.

He’ll loose yon bluidhound borderers

Wi fire and sword to follow thee;

There will nevir a Murray after thysell

Have land in Ettricke Foreste frie.

61^3. Wha reck not losing.

_After 61_:

My merryemen’s lives, my widowe’s teirs,

There lies the pang that pinches me!

When I am straught in bluidie eard,

Yon castell will be right dreirie.

63^3. nobil king.

63^4. sake that.

64^3. Over God’s forbode, quoth.

_After 64^4 (added in 1803)_:

Else ere ye come to Edinburgh port

I trow thin guarded sall ye be.

65^1. Thir.

65^2. from.

66^1. said _wanting_.

66^2. Said pitie.

67^1. give thee.

67^2, 68^2. gaye _for_ fair.

67^3. Gin thoult mak me sheriffe of this.

68^3. I’se: of Ettricke Foreste.

68^6. sall thou.

70^3. they lie.

71. 1802.

Fair Philiphaugh, prince, is my ain,

But and a part of the Newark lee,

The Finnies and the Hangingshaw,

My liege, are native steads to me.

1803.

Fair Philiphaugh is mine by right,

And Lewinshope still mine shall be;

Newark, Foulshiells and Tinnies baith

My bow and arrow purchased me.

72^{1,2}. 1803.

And I have native steads to me

The Newark lee and Hangingshaw;

73^4. upwards.

73^5. was na.

=c.=

_This copy agrees closely, as to substance, with_ =a=. _After 50^4

it has two lines, partially corrupted, which do not occur in_ =a=,

_and it lacks st. 60, which, it is to be observed, does not occur

in the king’s instructions to Pringle, 54-56 (though found in the

instructions to Boyd, 14), and was therefore not to be expected.

Verbal differences are numerous, but in only a very few cases of the

least importance, and in these for the worse._

1^4, 16^2, 29^4. wild beasts.

2^1. builded of.

2^3. There’s in.

2^4. is braw.

3^1. and lady.

3^{3,4}, 31^3. keeps.

4^1. men’s in livery.

4^2. is fair.

4^4. O gin.

5^4. country.

6^1. then _wanting_.

6^4. sall be.

7^1, 26^1. spoke.

7^4. good nobles, and syne.

8^2, 45^1, 59^1. if.

8^2. yon man.

8^3, 12^3, 42^3, 51^1, 55^1. him to.

9^1, 13^3, 19^4, 23^3, 30^2, 31^4, 32^4, 40^3. gin.

9^1, 13^3. refuse.

9^2, 13^4, 23^4, 35^4. conqueist.

9^3. we’ll cast.

9^4, 14^2, 23^6, 43^2. his (thy, my) fair.

10^2. and his brother-in-law.

11^1. said the.

11^2. gae.

11^3. to fair E.

12^1. holds.

12^4. yon fair forrest of me.

13^1, 15^2, 44^3. Till.

14^1. may: I’se.

16^3. There heard he bows did.

16^4. whithering him near by.

17^1. the great.

17^3. the castle he saw.

17^4. unicorns so braw.

19^1. They were all in ane.

19^4. not royallie.

19^5. he knew.

19^6. He served.

20^1. Good mot ye.

20^2. Thy fair lady and thy.

21^1. he sent.

21^4. may your.

22^1. lands is.

22^2. And I ken.

22^3. From Soldan Turk.

22^4. king and his men was.

23^1. ye, man, to come.

23^3. ye.

24^3. Then.

24^4. will I.

25^2. Thir lands.

25^3. they sall lie.

26^2. Said she.

26^3. That any: enter before a.

26^4. rad for.

27^1. lords.

27^3. leave at.

27^4. Unto: bound he.

29^1. is ane of the: forrests.

30^3. that fair c.

31^1. There’s _wanting_: and a.

31^3. There an.

31^4. live.

32^1. is in l.

32^2. is fair.

33^1. is truely his.

33^2. He says he: Soldanie.

33^3. Like as: he loss it.

34^2. In E. Forrest.

34^4. And made for.

35^1. to the.

35^2. where lay.

35^3. coming to this.

35^4. And ould.

36^3. Will: men take.

36^4. Your: sall.

37^2. speed them.

38^1. Be certain he.

38^2. And bid him come and.

38^3. Till Halliday till that he come.

38^4. You show.

39^3. Nought.

40^1, 44^1. said.

40^3, 69^3. loss.

41^2. if I.

41^{3,4} _wanting_.

42^1. Laird of.

42^4, 47^2. that _wanting_.

44^2, 61^2. O gin it.

45^2. in the night ye.

45^4. right hastilie.

46^3. needs me.

47^1. desired ye to.

48^1. he’s.

48^2. no worse for.

49^1. coming oer Cadron.

49^4. awfu.

50^2. Unto.

50^4. First of: and then of.

_After 50^4_:

Yet I reid you send yon Outlaw till,

And if you man them, come will he.

(_Repetition, with corruption, of 8^{1,2}._)

51^2. four of the best of.

51^3, 62^2. gae.

51^3, 55^3. aun sell.

51^4. Good reason you.

52^2. follow will we.

52^3. never after him again.

53^1. king he called.

53^2. bearer of Scotland.

53^3. Hoppringle.

53^4. on.

54^1, 57^3. Laird of.

54^{2,3}. Thou.

55^1. Desire.

55^2, 58^2. Bring four of the best of the (your).

55^4. reason in some part I.

56^2. good from.

57^4. What biddings.

58^1. desires you to.

58^4. Nae mae.

59^1. ye.

59^2. Truelie here I.

60 _wanting_.

61^3. What rack of the.

62^3. Sir _wanting_.

63^4. sake that.

64^1. Siccan mercie you sal.

64^2. sal you.

64^3. said the O. syne.

65^1. The.

65^2. from.

65^3. sae will I loss.

66^1. noblemen.

66^2. Pitie, Outlaw: see thee.

66^4. Let your favour be given to.

67^1. my fair.

67^3. Why, ye will make me sheriff: the fair.

68^1. Will ye: your.

68^2. of your.

68^3. of Ettrick Forrest.

68^5. If ye be not a: to your.

68^6. Forfeited.

69^1. But alace, prince: become.

69^3. lands.

70^1. thy.

70^2. grant I frie.

70^3. where.

71^4. Prince, they are native lands.

72^4. But well their names I do not.

73^3. He made him.

73^6. a traitor to the crown.

73^6. should he.

74^1. any time.

74^2. Sic ane Outlaw.

74^4. Outlaw in the Forrest.

=d.=

_The MS. extant in the Philiphaugh archives exhibits, besides many

differences of spelling, the following variations in reading from_ =c=

_as printed by Aytoun_:

5^1. _Side note_: Jas the 2d, 1454.

17^4. is bra _for_ so braw.

19^2. is fair _for_ so fair.

21^4. mak _for_ man, _wrongly_.

22^3. From Soudron _for_ From Soldan Turk.

24^2. see _for_ find.

26^2. said _wanting_, _wrongly_.

33^2. Soudonie _for_ Soldanie.

33^3, 65^3. tyne _for_ loss.

38^3. Tell _for_ Till.

40^4. Mosaldale _for_ Moffat-dale.

43^2. ane _for_ a.

45^2. he _for_ ye.

48^2. work _for_ worse, _wrongly_.

50^4. syne _for_ then.

51^1, 55^1, 58^1. Penman score, _wrongly_.

52^1, 56^1. refuse _for_ refuses.

56^2. frae _for_ from.

65^1. Thir _for_ the.

73^2. With his _for_ With the, _wrongly_.

=B.=

_The division of stanzas has been rearranged._

5^2. “Reciters,” _says Scott_, “sometimes call the messenger the laird

of Skene.”

21==8.

21^3. the _wanting_.

21^4. in the.

22==9.

22^4. land.

24==11.

24^4. come to.

35^3. Carhead.

50, 54. _Passing over the king’s taking off his cap to an outlaw,

which is monstrously_ ‘beneath his state and his dignitie,’ _I can

make nothing of the line which succeeds in each of these stanzas_.

52^1. score _for_ core.

=C.=

14. _Displaced. James Boyd should of course come in before James

Pringle._

FOOTNOTES:

[103] That the four copies of =a= are transcripts from writing, and

not from oral recitation, will be obvious when we observe their

correspondence. The first thirty stanzas of =a=, =b=, have the same

lines in the same order, and with an approach to verbal agreement.

There is not so close a concurrence after 30, but still a virtual

concurrence, excepting that =b= inserts sixteen lines between 52 and

53 which the other copies lack. =c= has throughout the same lines

as =a=, in the same order (with verbal differences), excepting that

=c= introduces two lines after 50^4 (which are a repetition, with

corruption, of 8^{1,2}), and that =a= repeats 43 at 60, which =c= does

not. =d= has only a few verbal variations from =c=.

[104] Plummer’s letter follows the ballad in the second volume, but is

not given in the first.

[105] Rather 1708. Sir James Murray was appointed an ordinary Lord

of Session October 28, 1689, and took his seat as Lord Philiphaugh

November 1. In 1702 he was appointed Lord Clerk Register, and this

place he held, except a short interval, till his death, July 1, 1708.

(T. Craig-Brown, History of Selkirkshire, II, 345 f.)

[106] I mean Soldan Turk, =c= 22^3, for Soudron, =a=, =b=, =d=, and

Soldanie, =c= 33^2, for Soudronie, Southronie, =a=, =b=. (Soudan Turk,

also =B= 26^3, Souden Turk, =C= 3^3, 5^3.) Nothing is easier than the

corruption of Soudron into Soudan, upon which change the addition

of Turk would be all but inevitable. The corruption would be likely

to be made by one who had heard of an irruption of Saracens (or, if

you please, Moors) into Galloway. (See note, p. 190.) The winning

of Ettrick Forest by and from the Southron is historical, and this

pretends to be an historical poem.

[107] “The feud betwixt the Outlaw and the Scots may serve to explain

the asperity with which the chieftain of that clan is handled in the

ballad.” Were it not for these words in Scott’s preface, I should have

been inclined to think that this humorous episode came from the hand of

the editor of ‘Kinmont Willie.’ It is quite in Scott’s way, and also in

contrast with the tone of the rest of the narrative. If the author of

the ballad was capable of this smartness, he ought to have been aware

that the Outlaw (not to say the king), after all his bluster, cuts a

ridiculously tame figure in the conclusion. I now observe that the line

‘Wi fire and sword we’ll follow thee’ is in =A a=, 52^2, and nearly the

same in =c=; which suggests that something may have been lost in the MS.

[108] =A= 22^{3,4} might be a reminiscence of ‘Johnie Armstrong,’ =C=

27^{3,4}, III, 371. =C= 3^{3,4} (from recitation) agrees strikingly

with the stanza cited III, 363, note *; but this fact is of not the

least importance. Mr Macmath notes that =A a= 1^3, ‘The hart, the hynd,

the dae, the rac,’ occurs in Alexander Montgomerie’s Cherrie and the

Slae, Edinburgh, 1597.

[109] Mr David MacRitchie, in his very interesting Ancient and Modern

Britons, a book full of novel matter and views, accepts the ballad as

“partly true,” apparently to the extent “that this ‘outlaw’ was as yet

an actual, independent king, and that modern Selkirkshire was not a

part of Scotland:” and this whether the king of Scotland was James IV

or an earlier monarch, II, 136-139. This is pitting the ballad against

history.

[110] Craig-Brown, II, 336-338.

[111] History of Selkirkshire, II, 355-357; see also p. 338.

[112] An account varying as to the place where the Outlaw was slain

specifies Scott of Haining as the author of his death. John Murray,

the Sheriff, was killed in 1510, and Andrew Ker and Thomas Scot were

charged with the act, traditionally put to the account of Buccleuch and

his clan, and, in particular, of Scott of Haining. (Craig-Brown, II,

338.)

[113] See Mr MacRitchie’s Ancient and Modern Britons, I, 156 ff., 136

ff., for these monsters, often described as black, in which sense, it

is maintained, Murray (Morrow, Moor) is frequently to be understood.

[114] More of this Murray in Historical and Traditional Tales,

Kirkcudbright, 1843, p. 112.

[115] “Sometimes it [the crest] represents some valiant act done by the

bearer; thus McClelland of Bombie did, and now Lord Kirkcudbright does,

bear a naked arm supporting on the point of a sword a More’s head,

because, Bombie being forfeited, his son killed a More who came in with

some Sarazens to infest Galloway, to the killer of whom the king had

promised the forfeiture of Bombie, and thereupon he was restored to his

father’s land.” Sir George Mackenzie, The Science of Herauldry, 1680,

p. 90. (This reference and those to Mactaggart and the Kirkcudbright

Tales were given me by Mr W. Macmath in 1883.)

[116] That it was not originally intended to insert ‘The Outlaw

Murray’ in this collection will be apparent from the position which

it occupies. I am convinced that it did not begin its existence as a

popular ballad, and I am not convinced that (as Scott asserts) “it has

been for ages a popular song in Selkirkshire.” But the “song” gained a

place in oral tradition, as we see from =B=, =C=, and I prefer to err

by including rather than by excluding.

FRAGMENTS

“Dispersed thro Shakspere’s plays are innumerable little fragments of

ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered,”

says Bishop Percy in his preface to ‘The Friar of Orders Gray.’ What

he says of Shakspere is equally true of Beaumont and Fletcher, but it

is not true, in either case, that there are many fragments of popular

traditional ballads. Portions of ballads of one kind or another, and

still more of songs, are introduced into the plays of these authors,

though not so frequently as one would suppose from Percy’s words. Ten

of the twenty-eight stanzas of ‘The Friar of Orders Gray’ are taken,

mostly in part only, from Shakspere and Fletcher,[117] but the original

verses are from songs, not properly from ballads. It is not, however,

always easy to say whether an isolated stanza belonged to a ballad or

a song. Some snatches from familiar ballads, which occur in Beaumont

and Fletcher, have already been given at the proper places. A few bits

from unknown pieces, which occur in Shakspere, or Beaumont and Fletcher

(strictly, perhaps, Fletcher), will be given here. It is surprising

that other dramatists have not furnished something.

A very meagre gathering of fragments from other sources follows those

which have been gleaned from the dramatists, but it must be once more

said that there is not an absolute certainty that all of these belong

to ballads.

Some popular tales are interspersed with verses of a ballad character,

and one or two cases have been incidentally noted already. Examples are

‘The Paddo,’ Chambers’s Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1870, p. 87;[118]

‘The Red Etin,’ _ib._ p. 89; ‘The Black Bull of Norroway,’ _ib._ p. 95;

‘Child Rowland and Burd Ellen,’ Illustrations of Northern Antiquities,

p. 397;[119] ‘The Golden Ball,’ see No 95, =H=, II, 353-55.

SHAKSPERE

From King Lear, Act iii, sc. 4, printed 1608.

Child Rowland to the darke tower came.

His word was still, Fy, fo, and fumme!

I smell the bloud of a British man.

1. _So_ 1623: _both quartos_, darke towne come.

Act iii, sc. 6.

Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepheard?

Thy sheepe bee in the corne;

And for one blast of thy minikin mouth

Thy sheepe shall take no harme.

From The Taming of the Shrew, Act iv, sc. 1, printed 1623, I, 221.

It was the friar of orders gray,

As he forth walked on his way.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

From The Knight of the Burning Pestle, produced apparently in 1611,

Act ii, sc. 8; Dyce, II, 173.

She cares not for her daddy,

Nor she cares not for her mammy,

For she is, she is, she is, she is

My lord of Lowgave’s lassy.

(_Perhaps only a song._)

Give him flowers enow, palmer, give him flowers enow,

Give him red and white, and blue, green, and yellow.

Act v, sc. iii; Dyce, p. 226.

With that came out his paramour,

She was as white as the lily-flower.

Hey, troul, troly, loly

With that came out her own dear knight,

He was as true as ever did fight.

From Bonduca, produced before March, 1619: Act v, sc. 2, Dyce, V, 88.

It was an old tale, ten thousand times told,

Of a young lady was turnd into mould,

Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

From The Two Noble Kinsmen, printed in 1634, Act iii, sc. 4; Dyce, XI,

383.

For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee,

And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine ee.

Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

He’s buy me a white cut, forth for to ride,

And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so wide.

Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

* * * * *

The Complaynt of Scotland, 1549, gives two lines of a song on the

murder, in 1517, of the Sieur de la Bastie, a distinguished knight in

the service of the Regent, Duke of Albany. The song may, or may not,

have been a ballad.

God sen the Duc hed byddin in France,

And Delabautë hed neuyr cum hame.

ed. Leyden, p. 100.

* * * * *

The History of the Houses of Douglas and Angus, written by Master

David Hume of Godscroft, p. 155, Edinburgh, 1644.

Of the treacherous execution of William, sixth Earl of Douglas, at the

castle of Edinburgh, in 1440, Hume of Godscroft says: “It is sure the

people did abhorre it, execrating the very place where it was done; in

detestation of the fact of which the memory remaineth yet to our dayes

in these words.” Since Hume mentions no ballad, it is not likely that

he knew of more than this single stanza, or that more existed. (Sir

Walter Scott, however, confidently assumes that there was a ballad.

Minstrelsy, 1833, I, 221 f.)

Edinburgh castle, towne, and tower,

God grant thou sinke for sinne!

And that even for the black dinner

Earle Douglas got therein.

* * * * *

Written on the fly-leaf of a little volume printed at Edinburgh about

1670 (Quevedo’s Novels), Laing MSS, University of Edinburgh, Div. II,

358. (Communicated by Mr Macmath.)

‘He steps full statly on y^e stre[et],

He hads y^e charters of him sell,

In to his cloathing he is compl[ete],

In Craford’s mure he bears y^e bell.

‘I wish I had died my own fai[r] death,

In tender age, q^n I was young;

I would never have broke my heart

For y^e love of any churl’s son.

‘Wo be to my parents all,

Y^t lives so farr beyond y^e sea!

I might have lived a noble life,

And wedded in my own countrë.’

* * * * *

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, xxxii.

A “romantic ballad, of which, unfortunately, one stanza only has been

preserved. The tradition bears that a young lady was carried away by

the fairies, and that, although invisible to her friends who were in

search of her, she was sometimes heard by them lamenting her destiny in

a pathetic song, of which the stanza just mentioned runs nearly thus:”

O Alva hills is bonny,

Dalycoutry hills is fair,

But to think on the braes of Menstrie

It maks my heart fu sair.

* * * * *

KING EDELBRODE

Sent by Motherwell to C. K. Sharpe, with a letter dated October 8,

1825. Also entered in Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 53 (excepting the

second line of the first stanza).

King Edelbrode cam owre the sea,

Fa la lilly

All for to marry a gay ladye.

Fa la lilly.

(Then follows the description of a queen, jimp and sma, not remembered.)

Her lilly hands, sae white and sma,

Fa la lilly

Wi gouden rings were buskit braw.

Fa la lilly

“I cannot get any precise account of its subject, but it related

somehow to a most magnificent marriage. The old lady who sung it died

some years ago.” (Letter to Sharpe.)

“It may be the same ballad as the scrap I have, with something of a

similar chorus.” (Note-Book, where the “chorus” is Fa fa lilly.)

The reference seems to be to ‘The Whummil Bore,’ No 27, I, 255.

* * * * *

C. K. Sharpe’s Letters, ed. Allardyce, II, 106 (1813).

‘O come you from the earth?’ she said,

‘Or come you from the skye?’

‘Oh, I am from yonder churchyard,

Where my crumbling relicks lie.’

Sharpe somewhere asks, Where does this belong?

Possibly in some version of ‘Proud Lady Margaret,’ No 47, II, 425.

* * * * *

MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 79, “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border

Minstrelsy,” No 73 a, Abbotsford.

The great bull of Bendy-law

Has broken his band and run awa,

And the king and a’ his court

Canna turn that bull about.

* * * * *

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 86 a,

Abbotsford, in the handwriting of Thomas Wilkie.

Red-Cap he was there,

And he was there indeed,

And he was standing by,

With a red cap on his head.

* * * * *

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 73 a; MS. of

Thomas Wilkie, Abbotsford, derived by Wilkie from his father, “who

heard a Lady Brigs sing this when he was a boy.”

He took a sword in every hand

And on the house did venture,

And swore if they wad not gee her up

He would make all their doors play clatter.

Her angry father, when he saw this,

That he would lose his ae daughter,

He swore if he had not been gude at the sword

He durst not come to make his doors clatter.

* * * * *

It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat;

The mither beneath the mools heard that.

sung in Wuthering Heights, ch. 9, has not unnaturally been taken for

a relic of a traditional Scottish ballad of a dead mother returning

to her abused children. It is, in fact, a stanza (not literally well

remembered) from the Danish ballad ‘Moderen under Mulde,’ Grundtvig,

II, 470, No 89, =B= 11, translated by Jamieson, and given in the notes

to the fourth canto of Scott’s Lady of the Lake.

* * * * *

The following “fragment,” given in Motherwell’s MS., p. 184, “from

Mr William Steele of Greenock, advocate,” I suppose to have been the

effort of a self-satisfied amateur, and to have been written as a

fragment. The third and fourth stanzas recall the broadside ballad ‘The

Lady Isabella’s Tragedy.’

Lady Margaret has bound her silken snood

A little aboon her bree,

Lady Margaret has kilted her grey mantel

A little aboon her knee.

Lady Margaret has left her bonnie bower,

But and her father’s ha,

And with Lord Hugh Montgomerie

Lady Margaret has gane awa.

* * * * * * *

‘I have made a bed, Lady Margaret,

Beneath the hawthorn-tree;

It’s lang and it’s deep, and there thou shalt sleep

Till I come back to thee.’

* * * * * * *

Then out and spake her father dear,

As he sat down to dine,

‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to come

And fill for me the wine.

‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to come

And glad her father’s ee;

The wine that is poured by her fair, fair hand

Is sweetest aye to me.’

Then out and spake the fat earth-worm,

That wons beneath the stane;

‘Yestreen I fed on a rosie cheek

And on a white hause-bane.

‘Yestreen I fed on a rosy cheek

And on a snaw-white bree;

But never again Lady Margaret

Shall fill the wine for thee.”@

FOOTNOTES:

[117] Stanza 1^{1,2} of Percy’s ballad is from The Taming of the Shrew,

iv, 1; 3, 5, 7, are, wholly or in part, from Hamlet, iv, 5; 12, 13,

from Fletcher’s Queen of Corinth, iii, 2; 15 from Hamlet, as before;

17, 18, from Much Ado about Nothing, ii, 3; one line of 22 from King

Lear, iii, 4.

[118] The verses from this tale are printed separately in Buchan’s

Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 117, ‘The Maid and Fairy.’

[119] But Jamieson confesses: “Of the verses which have been introduced

I cannot answer for the exactness of any, except the stanza put into

the mouth of the king of Elfland, which was indelibly impressed upon my

memory [though J. was only seven or eight years old] long before I knew

anything of Shakspere.” The stanza is: [in came the king of Elfland,]

‘With fi, fi, fo and fum! I smell the blood of a Christian man; Be he

dead, be he living, wi my brand I’ll clash his harns frae his harn-pan.’

ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS

VOL. I.

1. Riddles Wisely Expounded.

P. 1 a, VI, 496 a. Guess or die. Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 2,

‘Svend Bondes Spørgsmaal,’ =B.=

3-5. From Miss M. H. Mason’s Nursery Rhymes and Country Songs, p. 31;

sung in Northumberland.

There was a lady in the West,

Lay the bank with the bonny broom

She had three daughters of the best.

Fa lang the dillo

Fa lang the dillo dillo dee

There came a stranger to the gate,

And he three days and nights did wait.

The eldest daughter did ope the door,

The second set him on the floor.

The third daughter she brought a chair,

And placed it that he might sit there.

(_To first daughter._)

‘Now answer me these questions three,

Or you shall surely go with me.

(_To second daughter._)

‘Now answer me these questions six,

Or you shall surely be Old Nick’s.

(_To all three._)

‘Now answer me these questions nine,

Or you shall surely all be mine.

‘What is greener than the grass?

What is smoother than crystal glass?

‘What is louder than a horn?

What is sharper than a thorn?

‘What is brighter than the light?

What is darker than the night?

‘What is keener than an axe?

What is softer than melting wax?

‘What is rounder than a ring?’

‘To you we thus our answers bring.

‘Envy is greener than the grass,

Flattery smoother than crystal glass.

‘Rumour is louder than a horn,

Hunger is sharper than a thorn.

‘Truth is brighter than the light,

Falsehood is darker than the night.

‘Revenge is keener than an axe,

Love is softer than melting wax.

‘The world is rounder than a ring,

To you we thus our answers bring.

‘Thus you have our answers nine,

And we never shall be thine.’

Findlay’s MSS, I, 151, from J. Milne.

‘What’s greener than the grass?

What’s higher than the clouds?

What is worse than women’s tongues?

What’s deeper than the floods?’

‘Hollin’s greener than the grass,

Heaven’s higher than the clouds,

The devil’s worse than women’s tongues,

Hell’s deeper than the floods.’

2. The Elfin Knight.

P. 7 b, III, 496 a, IV, 439 a. ‘Store Fordringer,’ Kristensen, Jyske

Folkeminder, XI, 175, No 66 (three copies), 294, No 4. ‘Umulige

Fordringer,’ Kristensen, Efterslæt til Skattegraveren, p. 20, No 16.

14 a, II, 495. After the note to 14 a at II, 495, add: C. R. Lanman.

17. Communicated by Mr Walker, of Aberdeen, as sung, 1893, by John

Walker, Portlethen; learned by him from his father, above fifty years

before.

There was a knight on the head o yon hill

Blowing his horn lood and shrill.

Blow, blow, blow the wind, blow

‘Ye’se get to me a camrick sark

Without ae steek o needlewark.

‘An ye will wash it in a wall

Where rain never fell nor water sprang.

‘An ye sall dry it on a thorn

That never wis sprung sin Adam was born.’

‘Ye’se gie me an acre o red lan

Atween the see an the watery san.

‘An ye will plough it wi yer horn,

An sa it a’ wi ae pick o corn.

‘. . . . . . . .

An cut it doon wi a sheepshank bone.

‘An ye will big it in the sea,

An bring the foonshief dry to me.

‘An when ye have done and finished yer wark,

Come in, Jock Sheep, an ye’ll get yer sark.’

_As delivered, 5-8 precede 2-4._

17, 484 b. =M.= Findlay’s MSS, I, 21, from the recitation of Jeany

Meldrum, Framedrum, Forfarshire.

17, II, 495 b. In The Monthly Chronicle of North Country Lore and

Legend, III, 7, ‘Whittingham Fair’ is given by Mr Stokoe with a few

variations.

1. _Second line of refrain_,

For once she was a true lover of mine.

2, 4. _Second line of refrain_,

Then she shall be a true lover.

3. _Second line of refrain_,

And she shall be a true lover.

5. _Second line of refrain_,

Before he shall be a true lover.

6. _Second line of refrain_,

Then he shall be a true lover.

7, 8, 9. _Second line of refrain_,

And he shall be a true lover.

6^1. to buy.

8^1. to sheer’t.

_After_ 8: Tell him to thrash it on yonder wall,

And never let one corn of it fall.

Then he shall be a true lover of mine.

17, 484 f., II, 495 f., IV, 439 f.

‘Scarborough Fair,’ taken down by H. M. Bower, December, 1891, from

William Moat, a Whitby fisherman. English County Songs, by Lucy E.

Broadwood and J. A. Fuller Maitland, 1893, p. 12.

‘Is any of you going to Scarborough Fair?

Remember me to a lad as lives there;

For once he was a true lover of mine.

(_Second line always twice._)

‘Tell him to bring me an acre of land

Betwixt the wild ocean and yonder sea sand;

And then he shall be a true lover of mine.

‘Tell him to plough it with one ram’s horn,

And sow it all over with one pepper corn;

And then he shall be a true lover of mine.

‘Tell him to reap it with sickle of leather,

And bind it together with one peacock-feather;

And then he shall be a true lover of mine.

‘And now I have answered your questions three,

I hope you’ll answer as many for me;

And then thou shalt be a true lover of mine.’

‘Is any of you going to Scarborough Fair?

Remember me to a lass as lives there;

For once she was a true lover of mine.

‘Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,

Without any needles or thread, or owt through’t;

And then she shall be a true lover of mine.

‘Tell her to wash it by yonder wall,

Where water neer sprung, nor a drop o rain fall;

And then she shall be a true lover of mine.

‘Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,

Where blossom neer grew sin Adam was born;

And then she shall be a true lover of mine.

‘And now I have answered your questions three,

And I hope you’ll answer as many for me;

And then thou shalt be a true lover of mine.’

Rev. S. Baring-Gould gives me these variations, from the West of

England:

‘O tell her to bleach it on yonder fresh grass,

Where never a foot or a hoof did pass.’

‘O tell him to thresh it in yonder barn,

That hangs to the sky by a thread of yarn.’

(Dartmoor.)

‘Pray take it up in a bottomless sack,

And every leaf grows merry in time

And bear it to the mill on a butterfly’s back.

O thus you shall be a true lover of mine’

(Cornwall.)

4. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight.

P. 26 b. =Danish.= ‘Kvindemorderen,’ two fragments; Kristensen,

Folkeminder, XI, 62, No 33.

29-37, 486 a, IV, 441 a. =FF.= ‘Schön Hannchen,’ Frischbier und

Sembrzycki, Hundert Ostpreussische Volkslieder, 1893, p. 35, No 22,

from Angerburg, 51 vv. The ballad is of the third class. Hannchen

walks in the wood, and Ulrich advances to meet her. The birds are

all singing, and the maid asks why. ‘Every bird has its song,’ says

Ulrich; ‘go you your gait.’ He takes her under a briar where there is a

pretty damsel (who is quite superfluous). Hannchen lays her head in the

damsel’s lap and begins to weep. The damsel asks whether her weeping is

for her father’s gear, or because Ulrich is not good enough for her.

It is not for her father’s gear, and Ulrich is good enough. ‘Is it,

then,’ says the damsel or Ulrich, ‘for the stakes on which the eleven

maidens are hanging? Rely upon it, you shall be the twelfth.’ She begs

for three cries, which are addressed to God, her parents, and her

brothers. The brothers hear, hasten to the wood, and encounter Ulrich,

who pretends to know nothing of their sister. His shoes are red with

blood. ‘Why not?’ says Ulrich, ‘I have shot a dove.’ They know who the

dove is. Hannchen is borne to the churchyard, Ulrich is strung up on

the gallows. No 23 of the same collection is =X.=

‘Die schöne Anna,’ Böckel, Deutsche Volkslieder aus Oberhessen, p.

86, No 103, ‘Als die wunderschöne Anna,’ Lewalter, Deutsche V. l. in

Niederhessen gesammelt, 1^5 Heft, No 24, p. 51, and also No 25, are

fragmentary pieces, varieties of =DD=, I, 486 a.

37 b, 3d paragraph. A variety of =A= is printed in Altpreussische

Monatschrift, N. F., XXVIII, 632, 1892, without indication of local

derivation, ‘Der Ritter und die Königstochter.’ The knight takes

measures (not very summary ones) to drown himself.

43 b (or 44 a), 488 a, III, 497 a, IV, 441 b. =Italian.= Add: Canti

popolari Emiliani by Maria Carmi, Archivio, XII, 178, No 2.

44 b, 1st paragraph. Add: ‘El Mariner’ and ‘Giovanina,’ Villanis,

Canzoni p. Zaratine, in Archivio XI, 33, 34, Nos 2, 3.

58. =E.= A copy of ‘The Outlandish Knight,’ with unimportant verbal

variations, is given in English County Songs, by Lucy E. Broadwood and

J. A. Fuller Maitland, p. 164.

III, 497 b. A pair on horseback go a long way without speaking. A trait

in Polish, French, and Italian versions of No 4. Add: Munthe, Folkpoesi

från Asturien, p. 118 f., VII, =A=, 76 f., =B=, 70 f. (‘Don Bueso,’

Duran, =I=, lxv, no hablara la niña.) Dead lover and maid in Bartoš,

Nové národne pisnĕ moravské, p. 150. Lagus, Nyländske F. visor, ‘Kung

Valdemo’ (==Ribold), No 1, a, 28, b, 18, ‘Kämpen Grimborg,’ No 3, a,

21, b, 19.

5. Gil Brenton.

P. 62. In Traditionary Stories of Old Families, by Andrew Picken, 1833,

I, 289, ‘The Three Maids of Loudon,’ occur the following stanzas:

Seven pretty sisters dwelt in a bower,

With a hey-down, and a ho-down

And they twined the silk, and they workd the flower.

Sing a hey-down and a ho-down

And they began for seven years’ wark,

With a hey-down and a ho-down

All for to make their dear loves a sark.

With a hey down and a ho-down

O three long years were passd and gone,

And they had not finishd a sleeve but one.

‘O we’ll to the woods, and we’ll pull a rose,’

And up they sprang all at this propose.

(W. Macmath.)

6. Willie’s Lady.

P. 82 a. ‘Barselkvinden,’ three fragments, Kristensen, Folkeminder, XI,

42, No 23.

85 b, 3d paragraph. Say, of the parish of Logierait.

7. Earl Brand.

P. 88, III, 498 b, IV, 443 a. ‘Hr. Ribolt.’ =Danish.= Add:

Skattegraveren, VI, 17, No 257, ‘Nævnet til døde,’ Kristensen,

Efterslæt til Skattegraveren, p. 81, No 76; Folkeminder, XI, 36, No 22,

A-D.

91 f. 489 b, III,498 b, IV, 443 a. =Swedish.= [‘Ridborg,’] Thomasson,

Visor från Bleking, Nyare Bidrag, etc., VII, No 6, p. 12, No 7.

96 b. =Danish.= ‘Hertug Frydenborg,’ Danmarks g. Folkeviser, No 305, V,

II, 216. =A a=, =b=, =h=, =n=, =o=; =B b=, =c=; =E= =k=, =l=; =F b=,

=c=, =e=, =f=; with diversities, the plant nearly always lilies. (A few

of these, from Kristensen, have been already cited.)

9. The Fair Flower of Northumberland.

P. 116. =D.= In a copy sent by Motherwell to C. K. Sharpe with a

letter, October 8, 1825, this version is said to have been obtained

from Mrs Nicol, of Paisley.

117, 493 a.

‘The Heiress of Northumberland,’ from C. K. Sharpe’s first collection,

p. 7.

Sir W. Scott, commenting on this copy (to which he by mistake gives the

title of The Stirrup of Northumberland), says: “An edition considerably

varied both from Ritson’s and the present I have heard sung by the Miss

Tytlers of Woodhouselee. The tune is a very pretty lilt.” Sharpe’s

Ballad Book, ed. 1880, p. 142.

At the end of the ballad we are told: Tradition’s story is that the

hero of this song was one of the Earls of Douglass, who was taken

captive and put in prison by Percy, Earl of Northumberland.

‘Why, fair maid, have pity on me,’

Waly ‘s my love wi the life that she wan

‘For I am bound in prison strong,

And under the heir o Northumberland.’

‘How can I have pity on thee,’

Waly’s my love, etc.

‘When thou hast a wife and children three,

All dwelling at home in fair Scotland?’

Now he has sworn a solemn oath,

And it was by eternity,

That wife and children he had none,

All dwelling at home in fair Scotland.

Now she’s gone to her father’s bedstock,

Waly’s my love, etc.

And has stolen the key of the dungeon-lock,

And she the great heir o Northumberland.

And she’s gone to her father’s chest,

She has stolen away a suit of the best,

Altho she was heir o Northumberland.

Now she’s gone to her father’s coffer,

And has taen out gold nane kens how meickle,

Altho she, etc.

She’s gane to her father’s stable,

And taen out a steed baith lusty and able,

For a’she was heir, etc.

The rade till they came to Crafurdmoor,

He bade her light down for an English whore,

Altho she, etc.

The rade till the came to the water o Clyde,

He bade her light down, nae farer she should ride,

‘For now I am at hame in fair Scotland.’

‘Yonder view my castle,’ said he;

‘There I hae a wife and children three,

All dwelling at home,’ etc.

‘O take me by the middle sae sma

And thro me oer your castle-wa,

For I darena gang hame to Northumberland.’

When she came to her father’s yett,

She durst hardly rapp thereat,

Altho she was, etc.

Out then spoke her stepmother sour,

She bad her pack off for an impudent whore,

‘For thou shalt not be heir o Northumberland.’

Out then spock her bastard brother;

‘She’ll hae nae mair grace than God has gien her,

And she shall be heir o Northumberland.’

Out and spoke her father sae mild,

‘She’s no the first maid a false Scot has beguild,

And she shall be,’ etc.

10. The Twa Sisters.

P. 125, 493 b, II, 498 b, III, 499 a, IV, 447 b. ‘Les roseaux qui

chantent, Revue des Traditions Populaires, VII, 223 (blue flower);

‘L’os qui chante,’ discussion of the tale by M. Charles Ploix, Rev. des

Trad. Pop., VIII, 129 ff.

11. The Cruel Brother.

P. 142 b, 496 a, III, 499 a, IV, 449 a. Add a ballad of Rissiäld, Canti

popolari Emiliani, Maria Carmi, Archivio, XII, 185, No 7.

144 a, l. 18. ‘Le Testament de Marion.’ Another version, ‘La belo

Marioun,’ Laroche, Folklore du Lauraguais, p. 247.

144 b, 2d paragraph. Add at the end: the (she) ass, Testament de l’Âne,

Buchon, Noels et Chants pop. de la Franche-Comté, p. 89, No 28; and

elsewhere.

147. =E.= For this stanza we find, whatever may be the explanation, the

following in Findlay MSS, I, 146. “From Miss Butchart, Arbroath.”

There were three sisters livd in a bouer,

With a hech hey an a lillie gay

There cam a knicht to be their wooer.

An the primrose springs sae sweetly

Sing Annet, an Marrot, an fair Maisrie,

An the dew hangs in the wood, gay ladie.

12. Lord Randal.

=P.= 152 b, 498 b, III, 499 b. =Italian.= Three imperfect versions

(Sardinian) in Ferraro, C. p. in dialetto logudorese, 1891, pp. 3-5.

156 a, last paragraph, northern ballad. Add: ‘Den onde svigermoder,’

Kristensen, Jyske Folkeviser, I, 332, No 122; Skattegraveren, V, 84, No

635.

157, 499, IV, 449.

‘Lairde Rowlande, or Ronalde,’ The Sporting Magazine, XXV, 209,

January, 1805; communicated by Philodice, as recited by a “peasant’s

girl” at Randcallas, Perthshire. (Reprinted by Mr Edward Peacock in The

Athenæum, August 27, 1892, p. 288.)

‘Ah, where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?

Ah, where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?’

‘I’ve been in the wild woods; mither, mak my bed soon,

For I’m weary wi hunting and faine would lie down.’

‘Oh, you’ve been at your true-love’s, Lairde Rowlande, my son,’ etc.

‘I’ve been at my true-love’s; mither,’ etc.

‘What got you to dinner?’ etc.

‘I got eels boild in brue; mither,’ etc.

‘What’s become of your warden?’ etc.

‘He died in the muirlands; mither,’ etc.

‘What’s become of your stag-hounds?’ etc.

‘They swelled and they died; mither,’ etc.

‘Jacky, my son,’ written out by Miss F. J. Adams, a Devonshire lady,

and derived by her from her Devonshire nurse, sixty or seventy years

ago. (Rev. S. Baring-Gould.)

‘Where hast thou been to-day, Jacky, my son?

Where hast thou been to-day, my honey man?’

‘Oh, I’ve been a courting, mother, make my bed soon,

For I am sick to the heart, fain would lie down.’

‘Where shall I make it to?’ etc.

‘Oh, in the churchyard, mother,’ etc.

‘What wilt thou leave thy mother?’ etc.

‘Oh, I’ll leave her my money, mother,’ etc.

‘What wilt thou leave thy father?’ etc.

‘Oh, I’ll leave him my ’state, mother,’ etc.

‘What wilt thou leave thy sweetheart?’ etc.

‘A rope for to hang her, mother,’ etc.

‘The Croodin Doo.’ Findlay MSS, I, 192.

‘Whare did ye get your dinner the day,

My wee, wee croodin doo?’

(_Twice._)

‘I got it in my step-mither’s ha,

Oh, granny, mak my bed noo.’

(_Twice._)

‘What did ye get to your dinner the day,

My wee, wee croodin doo?’

(_Twice._)

‘I got a wee fishie wi four wee feeties,

Oh, granny, mak my bed noo.’

(_Twice._)

‘Did ony body eat it but yoursel,

My wee, wee croodin doo?’

(_Twice._)

‘I gied the banes to my wee, wee dogie,

Oh, granny, mak my bed noo;

He streekit out his head an died at my feet,

O, granny, een as I do noo.’

Among C. K. Sharpe’s papers, and in his handwriting, is a piece in

dialogue between Mother and Son headed, Death of Lord Rounal, a Gaelic

ballad founded on a tradition of his receiving poison by treachery

at the castle of his mistress’ father, and dying on his return home.

This is the familiar Scottish ballad made over in English and mildly

sentimental phraseology. All the Celtic in it is “dark Dungael, the

chief of meikle guile,” the father.

13. Edward.

P. 167 b, 501 b, III 499 b. =Swedish.= ‘Sven i Rosengård’ in Thomasson,

Visor från Bleking, Nyare Bidrag, etc., VII, No 6, p. 16, No 9.

168 a, second paragraph, ‘when stones float,’ etc. Compare Sir John

Mandeville, as to the Dead Sea, ch. 9 (of the Cotton MS.): “And zif a

man caste iren therein, it wole flete aboven, and zif men caste a fedre

therein, it wol synke to the botme.”

14. Babylon, or, The Bonnie Banks o Fordie.

P. 170, II, 499 a, III, 500. Add to the French ballad, ‘C’est trois

garçons dépaysés,’ Pineau, Le Folk-Lore du Poitou, p. 281; ‘Les

Coumpagnons,’ Laroche, Folklore du Lauraguais, p. 245.

171 a. =Danish.= Add: Hr. Tures Døtre, Kristensen, Folkeminder, XI,

145, No 56.

15. Leesome Brand.

P. 178 b. =Danish.= Add: ‘Barnefødsel i Lunden,’ Kristensen,

Folkeminder, XI, 102, No 45, =A-I=, 9 copies.

181 b, II, 499 a. =French=, =B.= Add: ‘La-bas, sus ces grands champs,’

Pineau, Le Folk-Lore du Poitou, p. 315.

16. Sheath and Knife.

P. 185, III, 500. In C. K. Sharpe’s papers there is the following

version, in Motherwell’s handwriting, sent by him to Sharpe with a

letter dated Paisley, 8th October, 1825.

‘The Broom blooms bonnie,’ from the recitation of Agnes Lyle,

Kilbarchan.

‘There is a feast in your father’s house,

The broom blooms bonnie, and so is it fair

It becomes you and me to be very douce.’

And we’ll never gang up to the broom nae mair

‘Will you go to yon hill so hie,

Take your bow and your arrow wi thee.’

He’s tane his lady on his back,

And his auld son in his coat-lap.

‘When ye hear me give a cry,

Ye’ll shoot your bow and let me ly.

‘When ye see me lying still,

Throw awa your bow and come running me till.’

When he heard her gie a cry,

He shot his bow and he let her lye.

When he saw she was lying still,

He threw awa his bow and came running her till.

It was nae wonder his heart was sad,

When he shot his auld son at her head.

He howkit a grave lang, large and wide,

He buried his auld son down by her side.

It was nae wonder his heart was sair,

When he shooled the mools on her yellow hair.

‘Oh,’ said his father, ‘son, but thou’rt sad,

At our braw meeting you micht be glad.’

‘Oh,’ said he, ‘father, I’ve lost my knife,

I loved as dear almost as my own life.

‘But I have lost a far better thing,

I lost the sheathe that the knife was in.’

‘Hold thy tongue and mak nae din,

I’ll buy thee a sheath and a knife therein.’

‘A’ the ships ere sailed the sea

Neer’ll bring such a sheathe and knife to me.

‘A’ the smiths that lives on land

Will neer bring such a sheath and knife to my hand.’

III, 500. =E.= Colonel W. F. Prideaux has printed this piece, from a

manuscript of Motherwell’s in his possession, in Notes and Queries,

Eighth Series, I, 372, with the trifling variations (or confirmations

of doubtful readings) here annexed.

1^1 Ane.

3^1. we’ll hunt

6^1. let me doun by the rute o the.

7^2. And _wanting_: as ony.

9^2. faithless.

10^1. The ae.

17. Hind Horn.

P. 196 a (7). Historia: Hertzog Heinrich der löw, XVI, 221, of the

edition of the Litt. Verein in Stuttgart, ed. Goetze, 228 vv.

198 a. Tales. Add: Stier, Ungarische Volksmärchen, p. 53.

198 b, 502 b, II, 499 b, IV, 450 b. ‘Le retour du mari,’ Pineau, Le

Folk-Lore du Poitou, p. 385; La Tradition, VI, 207 f.

199 b. =Romaic.= Add: Manousos, II, 73; Ζωγραφεῖος Ἀγών, p. 76, No 26.

205. =G.= Kinloch has made numerous small changes. The ballad will now

be given as first written down, Kinloch MSS, VII, 117. It appears to

have been derived by Miss Kinnear from Christy Smith.

‘Hynde Horn’s bound, love, and Hynde Horn’s free;

Whare was ye born? or frae what cuntrie?’

‘In gude greenwud whare I was born,

And all my friends left me forlorn.

‘I gave my love a gay gowd wand,

That was to rule oure all Scotland.