three versions, #A#, #B#, #C#, the last, which is the oldest, being from
late in the 17th century; also the first stanza of a fourth, #D#.
All the Scandinavian versions are in two-line stanzas save Danish 272
#B#, and #A# in part, and Icelandic 17 #C#, which are in four; the last,
however, in stanzas of two couplets.
It will be most convenient to give first a summary of the story of
'Redselille og Medelvold,' and to notice the chief divergences of the
other ballads afterwards. A mother and her daughter are engaged in
weaving gold tissue. The mother sees milk running from the girl's
breasts, and asks an explanation. After a slight attempt at evasion, the
daughter confesses that she has been beguiled by a knight. The mother
threatens both with punishment: he shall be hanged [burned, broken on
the wheel, sent out of the country, i.e., sold into servitude], and she
sent away [broiled on a gridiron, burned, drowned]. Some copies begin
further back, with a stanza or two in which we are told that the knight
has served in the king's court, and gained the favor of the king's
daughter. Alarmed by her mother's threats, the maid goes to her lover's
house at night, and after some difficulty in effecting an entrance (a
commonplace, like the ill-boding milk above) informs him of the fate
that awaits them. The knight is sufficiently prompt now, and bids her
get her gold together while he saddles his horse. They ride away, with
[or without] precautions against discovery, and come to a wood. Four
Norwegian versions, #A#, #B#, #C#, #G#, and also two Icelandic versions,
#A#, #B#, of 'Sønnens Sorg,' interpose a piece of water, and a
difficulty in crossing, owing to the ferryman's refusing help or the
want of oars; but this passage is clearly an infiltration from a
different story. Arriving at the wood, the maid desires to rest a while.
The customary interrogation does not fail,--whether the way is too long
or the saddle too small. The knight lifts her off the horse, spreads his
cloak for her on the grass, and she gives way to her anguish in such
exclamations as "My mother had nine women: would that I had the worst of
them!" "My mother would never have been so angry with me but she would
have helped me in this strait!" Most of the Danish versions make the
knight offer to bandage his eyes and render such service as a man may;
but she replies that she would rather die than that man should know of
woman's pangs. So Swedish #H#, nearly. Partly to secure privacy, and
partly from thirst, she expresses a wish for water, and her lover goes
in search of some. (This in nearly all the Danish ballads, and many of
the others. But in four of the Norwegian versions of 'Sønnens Sorg' the
lover is told to go and amuse himself, much as in our ballads.) When he
comes to the spring or the brook, there sits a nightingale and sings.
_Two_ nightingales, a small bird, a voice from heaven, a small dwarf, an
old man, replace the nightingale in certain copies, and in others there
is nothing at all; but the great majority has a single nightingale, and,
as Grundtvig points out, the single bird is right, for the bird is
really a vehicle for the soul of the dead Redselille. The nightingale
sings, "Redselille lies dead in the wood, with two sons [son and
daughter] in her bosom." All that the nightingale has said is found to
be true. According to Danish #O# and Swedish #C#, the knight finds the
lady and a child, according to Swedish #B# and Norwegian #A#, #B#, #C#,
the lady and two sons, dead. In Danish #B#, #L# (as also the Icelandic
'Sonar Harmur,' #A#, #B#, and Danish 'Stalbroders Kvide,' #A#) the
knight digs a grave, and lays mother and children in it; he lays himself
with them in #A# and #M#. It is not said whether the children are dead
or living, and the point would hardly be raised but for what follows. In
Danish #D#, #P# and Swedish #F#, it is expressly mentioned that the
children are _alive_, and in #Q#, #R#, #S#, #T#, #U#, six copies of #V#,
and #Y#, and also in 'Bolde Hr. Nilaus' Løn,' and in 'Sønnens Sorg,'
Danish #A#, Norwegian #A#, #C#, #D#, #E#, the children are heard, or
seem to be heard, shrieking from under the ground. Nearly all the
versions make the knight run himself through with his sword, either
immediately after the others are laid in the grave, or after he has
ridden far and wide, because he cannot endure the cries of the children
from under the earth. This would seem to be the original conclusion of
the story; the horrible circumstance of the children being buried alive
is much more likely to be slurred over or omitted at a later day than to
be added.
We may pass over in silence the less important variations in the very
numerous versions of 'Redselille and Medelvold,' nor need we be detained
long by the other three Scandinavian forms of the ballad. 'Sønnens Sorg'
stands in the same relation to 'Redselille and Medelvold' as 'Hildebrand
and Hilde,' does to 'Ribold and Guldborg' (see p. 89 of this volume);
that is, the story is told in the first person instead of the third. A
father asks his son why he is so sad, Norwegian #A#, #B#, #C#, #D#,
Icelandic #A#, #B#, #C#, #D#. Five years has he sat at his father's
board, and never uttered a merry word. The son relates the tragedy of
his life. He had lived in his early youth at the house of a nobleman,
who had three daughters. He was on very familiar terms with all of them,
and the youngest loved him. When the time came for him to leave the
family, she proposed that he should take her with him, Danish #B#,
Icelandic #A#, #B#, #C# [_he_ makes the proposal in Norwegian #C#]. From
this point the narrative is much the same as in 'Redselille and
Medelvold,' and at the conclusion he falls dead in his father's arms [at
the table], Norwegian #A#, #B#, #D#, Icelandic #A#. The mother takes the
place of the father in Danish #B# and Swedish, and perhaps it is the
mother who tells the story in English #A#, but the bad condition of the
text scarcely enables us to say. Danish #B# and the Swedish copy have
lost the middle and end of the proper story: there is no wood, no
childbirth, no burial. The superfluous boat of some Norwegian versions
of 'Redselille' reappears in these, and also in Icelandic #A#, #B#; it
is overturned in a storm, and the lady is drowned.
'Stalbroders Kvide' differs from 'Sønnens Sorg' only in this: that the
story is related to a comrade instead of father or mother.
'Bolde Hr. Nilaus' Løn,' which exists but in a single copy, has a
peculiar beginning. Sir Nilaus has served eight years in the king's
court without recompense. He has, however, gained the favor of the
king's daughter, who tells him that she is suffering much on his
account. If this be so, says Nilaus, I will quit the land with speed. He
is told to wait till she has spoken to her mother. She goes to her
mother and says: Sir Nilaus has served eight years, and had no reward;
he desires the best that it is in your power to give. The queen
exclaims, He shall never have my only daughter's hand! The young lady
immediately bids Nilaus saddle his horse while she collects her gold,
and from this point we have the story of Redselille.
#Dutch.# Willems, Oude vlaemsche Liederen, p. 482, No 231, 'De Ruiter en
Mooi Elsje;' Hoffmann v. Fallersleben, Niederländische Volkslieder, 2d
ed., p. 170, No 75: broadside of the date 1780.
A mother inquires into her daughter's condition, and learns that she is
going with child by a trooper (he is called both 'ruiter' and
'landsknecht'). The conversation is overheard by the other party, who
asks the girl whether she will ride with him or bide with her mother.
She chooses to go with him, and as they ride is overtaken with pains.
She asks whether there is not a house where she can rest. The soldier
builds her a hut of thistles, thorns, and high stakes, and hangs his
cloak over the aperture. She asks him to go away, and to come back when
he hears a cry: but the maid was dead ere she cried. The trooper laid
his head on a stone, and his heart brake with grief.
#German.# #A#, Simrock, No 40, p. 92, 'Von Farbe so bleich,' from Bonn
and Rheindorf, repeated in Mittler, No 194. The mother, on learning her
daughter's plight, imprecates a curse on her. The maid betakes herself
to her lover, a trooper, who rides off with her. They come to a cool
spring, and she begs for a fresh drink, but, feeling very ill, asks if
there is no hamlet near, from which she could have woman's help. The aid
of the trooper is rejected in the usual phrase, and he is asked to go
aside, and answer when called. If there should be no call, she will be
dead. There was no call, and she was found to be dead, with two sons in
her bosom. The trooper wrapped the children in her apron, and dug her
grave with his sword. #B#, Reifferscheid, Westfälische Volkslieder, p.
106, 'Ach Wunder über Wunder,' from Bökendorf: much the same as to the
story. #C#, Mittler, No 195, p. 175, 'Von Farbe so bleich,' a fragment
of a copy from Hesse; Zuccalmaglio, p. 187, No 90, 'Die Waisen,' an
entire copy, ostensibly from the Lower Rhine, but clearly owing its last
fourteen stanzas to the editor. The trooper, in this supplement, leaves
the boys with his mother, and goes over seas. The boys grow up, and set
out to find their father. In the course of their quest, they pass a
night in a hut in a wood, and are overheard saying a prayer for their
father and dead mother, by a person who announces herself as their
maternal grandmother! After this it is not surprising that the father
himself should turn up early the next morning. The same editor, under
the name of Montanus, gives in Die deutschen Volksfeste, p. 45 f, a part
of this ballad again, with variations which show his hand beyond a
doubt. We are here informed that the ballad has above a hundred stanzas,
and that the conclusion is that the grandmother repents her curse, makes
her peace with the boys, and builds a convent.
#French.# Bujeaud, Chants et Chansons populaires des provinces de
l'Ouest, #A#, I, 198, #B#, I, 200, 'J'entends le rossignolet.' #A#. This
ballad has suffered injury at the beginning and the end, but still
preserves very well the chief points of the story. A lover has promised
his mistress that after returning from a long absence he would take her
to see his country. While traversing a wood she is seized with her
pains. The aid of her companion is declined: "Cela n'est point votre
métier." She begs for water. The lover goes for some, and meets a lark,
who tells him that he will find his love dead, with a child in her arms.
Two stanzas follow which are to no purpose. #B#. The other copy of this
ballad has a perverted instead of a meaningless conclusion, but this
keeps some traits that are wanting in #A#. It is a two-line ballad, with
the nightingale in the refrain: "J'entends le rossignolet." A fair maid,
walking with her lover, falls ill, and lies down under a thorn. The
lover asks if he shall go for her mother. "She would not come: she has a
cruel heart." Shall I go for mine? "Go, like the swallow!" He comes back
and finds his love dead, and says he will die with his mistress. The
absurd conclusion follows that she was feigning death to test his love.
The names in the Scandinavian ballads, it is remarked by Grundtvig, V,
242, 291, are not Norse, but probably of German derivation, and, if
such, would indicate a like origin for the story. The man's name, for
instance, in the Danish 'Sønnens Sorg,' #A#, Gysellannd, seems to point
to Gisalbrand or Gisalbald, German names of the 8th or 9th century.
There is some doubt whether this Gysellannd is not due to a corruption
arising in the course of tradition (see Grundtvig, V, 302); but if the
name may stand, it will account for our Leesome Brand almost as
satisfactorily as Hildebrand does for Earl Brand in No 7.
The passage in which the lady refuses male assistance during her
travail--found as well in almost all the Danish versions of 'Redselille
and Medelvold,' in the German and French, and imperfectly in Swedish
#D#--occurs in several other English ballads, viz., 'The Birth of Robin
Hood,' 'Rose the Red and White Lily,' 'Sweet Willie,' of Finlay's
Scottish Ballads, II, 61, 'Burd Helen,' of Buchan, II, 30, 'Bonnie
Annie,' No 23. Nearly the whole of the scene in the wood is in
'Wolfdietrich.' Wolfdietrich finds a dead man and a woman naked to the
girdle, who is clasping the stem of a tree. The man, who was her
husband, was taking her to her mother's house, where her first child was
to be born, when he was attacked by the dragon Schadesam. She was now in
the third day of her travail. Wolfdietrich, having first wrapped her in
his cloak, offers his help, requesting her to tear a strip from her
shift and bind it round his eyes. She rejects his assistance in this
form, but sends him for water, which he brings in his helmet, but only
to find the woman dead, with a lifeless child at her breast. He wraps
mother and child in his mantle, carries them to a chapel, and lays them
on the altar; then digs a grave with his sword, goes for the body of the
man, and buries all three in the grave he has made. Grimm, Altdänische
Heldenlieder, p. 508; Holtzmann, Der grosse Wolfdietrich, st. 1587-1611;
Amelung u. Jänicke,[158] Ortnit u. die Wolfdietriche, II, 146, #D#, st.
51-75; with differences, I, 289, B, st. 842-848; mother and child
surviving, I, 146, #A#, st. 562-578; Weber's abstract of the Heldenbuch,
in Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 119, 120.
'Herr Medelvold,' a mixed text of Danish II, Danske Viser, No 156, is
translated by Jamieson, Illustrations, p. 377; by Borrow, Romantic
Ballads, p. 28 (very ill); and by Prior, No 101. Swedish, II, #A#. is
translated by Jamieson, _ib._, p. 373.
A
#a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 38. #b.# Motherwell's
MS., p. 626.
1
My boy was scarcely ten years auld,
Whan he went to an unco land,
Where wind never blew, nor cocks ever crew,
Ohon for my son, Leesome Brand!
2
Awa to that king's court he went,
It was to serve for meat an fee;
Gude red gowd it was his hire,
And lang in that king's court stayd he.
3
He hadna been in that unco land
But only twallmonths twa or three,
Till by the glancing o his ee,
He gaind the love o a gay ladye.
4
This ladye was scarce eleven years auld,
When on her love she was right bauld;
She was scarce up to my right knee,
When oft in bed wi men I'm tauld.
5
But when nine months were come and gane,
This ladye's face turnd pale and wane.
6
To Leesome Brand she then did say,
'In this place I can nae mair stay.
7
'Ye do you to my father's stable,
Where steeds do stand baith wight and able.
8
'Strike ane o them upo the back,
The swiftest will gie his head a wap.
9
'Ye take him out upo the green,
And get him saddled and bridled seen.
10
'Get ane for you, anither for me,
And lat us ride out ower the lee.
11
'Ye do you to my mother's coffer,
And out of it ye'll take my tocher.
12
'Therein are sixty thousand pounds,
Which all to me by right belongs.'
13
He's done him to her father's stable,
Where steeds stood baith wicht and able.
14
Then he strake ane upon the back,
The swiftest gae his head a wap.
15
He's taen him out upo the green,
And got him saddled and bridled seen.
16
Ane for him, and another for her,
To carry them baith wi might and virr.
17
He's done him to her mother's coffer,
And there he 's taen his lover's tocher;
18
Wherein were sixty thousand pound,
Which all to her by right belongd.
19
When they had ridden about six mile,
His true love then began to fail.
20
'O wae's me,' said that gay ladye,
'I fear my back will gang in three!
21
'O gin I had but a gude midwife,
Here this day to save my life,
22
'And ease me o my misery,
O dear, how happy I woud be!'
23
'My love, we're far frae ony town,
There is nae midwife to be foun.
24
'But if ye'll be content wi me,
I'll do for you what man can dee.'
25
'For no, for no, this maunna be,'
Wi a sigh, replied this gay ladye.
26
'When I endure my grief and pain,
My companie ye maun refrain.
27
'Ye'll take your arrow and your bow,
And ye will hunt the deer and roe.
28
'Be sure ye touch not the white hynde,
For she is o the woman kind.'
29
He took sic pleasure in deer and roe,
Till he forgot his gay ladye.
30
Till by it came that milk-white hynde,
And then he mind on his ladye syne.
31
He hasted him to yon greenwood tree,
For to relieve his gay ladye;
32
But found his ladye lying dead,
Likeways her young son at her head.
33
His mother lay ower her castle wa,
And she beheld baith dale and down;
And she beheld young Leesome Brand,
As he came riding to the town.
34
'Get minstrels for to play,' she said,
'And dancers to dance in my room;
For here comes my son, Leesome Brand,
And he comes merrilie to the town.'
35
'Seek nae minstrels to play, mother,
Nor dancers to dance in your room;
But tho your son comes, Leesome Brand,
Yet he comes sorry to the town.
36
'O I hae lost my gowden knife;
I rather had lost my ain sweet life!
37
'And I hae lost a better thing,
The gilded sheath that it was in.'
38
'Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife,
Can make to you anither knife?
39
'Are there nae sheath-makers in the land,
Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?'
40
'There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife,
Can make me sic a gowden knife;
41
'Nor nae sheath-makers in the land,
Can make to me a sheath again.
42
'There ne'er was man in Scotland born,
Ordaind to be so much forlorn.
43
'I 've lost my ladye I lovd sae dear,
Likeways the son she did me bear.'
44
'Put in your hand at my bed head,
There ye'll find a gude grey horn;
In it three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude,
That hae been there sin he was born.
45
'Drap twa o them o your ladye,
And ane upo your little young son;
Then as lively they will be
As the first night ye brought them hame.'
46
He put his hand at her bed head,
And there he found a gude grey horn,
Wi three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude,
That had been there sin he was born.
47
Then he drappd twa on his ladye,
And ane o them on his young son,
And now they do as lively be,
As the first day he brought them hame.
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 365. From the recitation of Agnes
Lyle, Kilbarchan.
1
'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
2
'You will go to yon hill so hie;
Take your bow and your arrow wi thee.'
3
He's tane his lady on his back,
And his auld son in his coat lap.
4
'When ye hear me give a cry,
Ye'll shoot your bow and let me lye.
5
'When ye see me lying still,
Throw away your bow and come running me till.'
6
When he heard her gie the cry,
He shot his bow and he let her lye.
7
When he saw she was lying still,
He threw away his bow and came running her till.
8
It was nae wonder his heart was sad
When he shot his auld son at her head.
9
He houkit a grave, long, large and wide,
He buried his auld son doun by her side.
10
It was nae wonder his heart was sair
When he shooled the mools on her yellow hair.
11
'Oh,' said his father, 'son, but thou'rt sad!
At our braw meeting you micht be glad.'
12
'Oh,' said he, 'Father, I've lost my knife
I loved as dear almost as my own life.
13
'But I have lost a far better thing,
I lost the sheath that the knife was in.'
14
'Hold thy tongue, and mak nae din;
I'll buy thee a sheath and a knife therein.'
15
'A' the ships eer sailed the sea
Neer'll bring such a sheath and a knife to me.
16
'A' the smiths that lives on land
Will neer bring such a sheath and knife to my hand.'
* * * * *
#A. b.#
1^2. he came to.
1^3. For wind ... and cock never.
4^4. bed wi him.
5^2. His lady's.
22^2. would I be.
29^1. deer and doe.
30^2. And then on his lady he did mind.
31^1. to greenwood tree.
33^1. the castle wa.
34^1. Go, minstrels.
43^1. lady I 've loved.
44^8. draps Saint Paul's.
44^4. That has.
45^2. little wee son.
#B.#
2^1. Will you.
[157] And also stanza 3 of Buchan's 'Fairy Knight,' 'The Elfin Knight,'
#D#, p. 17 of this volume, which runs:
I hae a sister eleven years auld,
And she to the young men's bed has made bauld.
[158] Who suggests, II, xlv, somewhat oddly, that the passage may have
been taken from Revelation, xii, 2 f, 13 f.
16
SHEATH AND KNIFE
#A. a.# Motherwell's MS., p. 286. #b.# 'The broom blooms
bonnie and says it is fair,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p.
189.
#B.# Sharpe's Ballad Book, ed. by D. Laing, p. 159.
#C.# 'The broom blooms bonie,' Johnson's Museum, No 461.
#D.# Notes and Queries, First Series, V, 345, one stanza.
The three stanzas of this ballad which are found in the Musical Museum
(#C#) were furnished, it is said, by Burns. It was first printed in full
(#A b#) in Motherwell's Minstrelsy. Motherwell retouched a verse here
and there slightly, to regulate the metre. #A a# is here given as it
stands in his manuscript. #B# consists of some scattered verses as
remembered by Sir W. Scott.
The directions in 3, 4 receive light from a passage in 'Robin Hood's
Death and Burial:'
'But give me my bent bow in my hand,
And a broad arrow I'll let flee,
And where this arrow is taken up
There shall my grave diggd be.
'Lay me a green sod under my head,' etc.
Other ballads with a like theme are 'The Bonny Hind,' further on in this
volume, and the two which follow it.
* * * * *
Translated in Grundtvig's E. og s. Folkeviser, No 49, p. 308; Wolff's
Halle der Völker, I, 64.
A
#a.# Motherwell's MS., p. 286. From the recitation of Mrs
King, Kilbarchan Parish, February 9, 1825. #b.# 'The broom
blooms bonnie and says it is fair,' Motberwell's
Minstrelsy, p. 189.
1
It is talked the warld all over,
The brume blooms bonnie and says it is fair
That the king's dochter gaes wi child to her brither.
And we'll never gang doun to the brume onie mair
2
He's taen his sister doun to her father's deer park,
Wi his yew-tree bow and arrows fast slung to his back.
3
'Now when that ye hear me gie a loud cry,
Shoot frae thy bow an arrow and there let me lye.
4
'And when that ye see I am lying dead,
Then ye'll put me in a grave, wi a turf at my head.'
5
Now when he heard her gie a loud cry,
His silver arrow frae his bow he suddenly let fly.
Now they'll never, etc.
6
He has made a grave that was lang and was deep,
And he has buried his sister, wi her babe at her feet.
And they'll never, etc.
7
And when he came to his father's court hall,
There was music and minstrels and dancing and all.
But they'll never, etc.
8
'O Willie, O Willie, what makes thee in pain?'
'I have lost a sheath and knife that I'll never see again.'
For we'll never, etc.
9
'There is ships o your father's sailing on the sea
That will bring as good a sheath and a knife unto thee.'
10
'There is ships o my father's sailing on the sea,
But sic a sheath and a knife they can never bring to me.'
Now we'll never, etc.
B
Sharpe's Ballad Book, ed. by D. Laing, p. 159: Sir Walter
Scott, from his recollection of a nursery-maid's singing.
1
Ae lady has whispered the other,
The broom grows bonnie, the broom grows fair
Lady Margaret's wi bairn to Sir Richard, her brother.
And we daur na gae doun to the broom nae mair
* * * * * * *
2
'And when ye hear me loud, loud cry,
O bend your bow, let your arrow fly.
And I daur na, etc.
3
'But when ye see me lying still,
O then you may come and greet your fill.'
* * * * * * *
4
'It's I hae broken my little pen-knife
That I loed dearer than my life.'
And I daur na, etc.
* * * * * * *
5
'It's no for the knife that my tears doun run,
But it's a' for the case that my knife was kept in.'
C
Johnson's Museum, No 461.
1
It's whispered in parlour, it's whispered in ha,
The broom blooms bonie, the broom blooms fair
Lady Marget's wi child amang our ladies a'.
And she dare na gae down to the broom nae mair
2
One lady whisperd unto another
Lady Marget's wi child to Sir Richard, her brother.
* * * * * * *
3
'O when that you hear my loud loud cry,
Then bend your bow and let your arrows fly.
For I dare na,' etc.
D
Notes and Queries, 1st Series, V, 345, communicated by E.
F. Rimbault.
1
Ae king's dochter said to anither,
Broom blooms bonnie an grows sae fair
We'll gae ride like sister and brither.
But we'll never gae down to the broom nae mair
* * * * *
#A. b.#
_Motherwell's printed copy has these variations:_
1^1. It is talked, it is talked; _a variation found in the
MS._
3^1. O when ... loud, loud cry.
3^2. an arrow frae thy bow.
4^1. cauld and dead.
5^1. loud, loud cry.
6^1. has houkit.
6^2. babie.
7^1. came hame.
7^2. dancing mang them a': _this variation also in the
MS._
9^1, 10^1. There are.
#B.#
"I have heard the 'Broom blooms bonnie' sung by our poor
old nursery-maid as often as I have teeth in my head, but
after cudgelling my memory I can make no more than the
following stanzas." _Scott, Sharpe's Ballad Book, 1880, p.
159._
_Scott makes Effie Deans, in The Heart of Mid-Lothian,
vol. I, ch. 10, sing this stanza, probably of his own
making:_