1
All the skippers o Scarsburgh
Sat drinking at the wine;
There fell a rousing them amang,
On an unseally time.
2
Some there rousd their hawk, their hawk,
And some there rousd their hound,
But Young Allan rousd his comely cog,
As she stood on dry ground.
3
‘There’s nae a ship in Scarsburgh
Will sail the seas wi mine,
Except it be the Burgess Black,
Or than the smack calld Twine.
4
‘There’s nae a ship amang you a’
Will sail alang wi me,
But the comely cog o Hecklandhawk,
And Flower o Yermanie,
And the Black Snake o Leve London;
They are a’ gane frae me.’
5
Out it speaks a little wee boy
Stood by Young Allan’s knee;
‘My master has a coal-carrier
Will take the wind frae thee.
6
‘She will gae out under the leaf,
Come in under the lee,
And nine times in a winter night
She’ll turn the wind wi thee.’
7
When they had wagerd them amang
Full fifty tuns o wine,
Besides as mickle gude black silk
As clathe their lemans fine,
8
When all the rest went to the tows,
All the whole night to stay,
Young Allan he went to his bower,
There with his God to pray.
9
‘There shall nae man gang to my ship
Till I say mass and dine,
And take my leave o my lady;
Gae to my bonny ship syne.’
10
Then they saild east on Saturday,
On Sunday sailëd west;
Likewise they sailed on Mononday
Till twelve, when they did rest.
11
At midnight dark the wind up stark,
And seas began to rout,
Till Allan and his bonny new ship
Gaed three times witherlands about.
12
‘O,’ sighing says the Young Allan,
‘I fear a deadly storm;
For mony a heaving sinking sea
Strikes sair on my ship’s stern.
13
‘Where will I get a little wee boy
Will take my helm in hand
Till I gang up to my tapmast
And see for some dry land?’
14
‘O waken, waken your drunken men,
As they lye drunk wi wine;
For when ye came thro Edinbro town
Ye bought them sheen o ben.
15
‘There was nae shoe made for my foot,
Nor gluve made for my hand;
But nevertheless, my dear master,
I’ll take your helm in hand
Till ye gang to the tall tapmast
And look for some dry land.
16
‘And here am I, a little wee boy
Will take your helm in han
Till ye gang up to your tapmast,
But, master, stay not lang.’
17
‘I cannot see nae day, nae day,
Nor nae meathe can I ken;
But mony a bonny feather-bed
Lyes floating on the faem,
And the comely cog o Normanshore,
She never will gang hame.’
18
The comely cog o Nicklingame
Came sailing by his hand;
Says, Gae down, gae down, ye gude skipper,
Your ship sails on the sand.
19
‘Come down, come down, my gude master,
Ye see not what I see;
For thro and thro our comely cog
I see the green haw sea.’
20
‘Take fifty ells o gude canvas
And wrap the ship a’ round;
And pick her weell, and spare her not,
And make her hale and sound.
21
‘If ye will sail, my bonny ship,
Till we come to dry land,
For ilka iron nail in you,
Of gowd there shall be ten.’
22
The ship she listend all the while,
And, hearing of her hire,
She flew as swift threw the saut sea
As sparks do frae the fire.
23
The first an shore that they came till,
They ca’d it Howdoloot;
Wi drums beating and cannons shouting,
They held our gude ship out.
24
The next an shore that they came till,
They ca’d it Howdilee;
Wi drums beating and fifes playing,
They bare her to the sea.
25
The third an shore that they came till,
They ca’d it Howdilin;
Wi drums beating and pipes playing,
They towd our gude ship in.
26
The sailors walkd upon the shore,
Wi their auld baucheld sheen,
And thanked God and their Lady,
That brought them safe again.
27
‘For we went out o Scarsburgh
Wi fifty ships and three;
But nane o them came back again
But Young Allan, ye see.’
28
‘Come down, come down, my little wee boy,
Till I pay you your fee;
I hae but only ae daughter,
And wedded to her ye’se be.’
* * * * *
D
Murison MS., p. 117; learned by Mrs Murison from her mother, Old
Deer, Aberdeenshire.
1
There was three lords sat drinkin wine
In bonnie Aberdeen, [O]
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
2
Some o them talked o their merchandise,
An some o their ladies fine, [O]
But Young Allan he talked o his bonnie ship,
That cost him mony a poun.
* * * * * *
3
‘Whar will I get a bonnie wee boy
That’ll tak my helm in han, O
Till I gang up to my high topmast
An look oot for some dry lan?
4
‘He’ll get half o my gowd, an half o my gear,
An the third pairt o my lan,
An gin he row me safe on shore
He shall hae my daughter Ann.’
5
‘O here am I, a bonny wee boy
That’ll tak your helm in han
Till ye gang up to your high topmast
An look oot for some dry lan.
6
‘I’ll nae seek your gowd, nor I’ll nae seek your gear,
Nor the third pairt o your lan,
But gin I row you safe to shore
I shall hae your daughter Ann.
7
‘Come doon, come doon, Young Allan,’ he cries,
‘Ye see nae what I see;
For through an through your bonnie ship-side
An I see the open sea.
8
‘Ye’ll tak twenty-four o your feather-beds,
Ye’ll busk your bonnie ship roon,
An as much o the guid canvas-claith
As gar her gang hale an soun.
9
‘An whar ye want an iron bolt
Ye’ll ca a siller pin,
An whar ye want an oaken bolt
Ye’ll beat the yellow gold in.’
10
He’s taen twenty-four o his feather-beds
An buskit’s bonnie ship roon,
An as much o the guid canvas-claith
As gar her gang hale an soun.
11
An whar he’s wantit an iron bolt
He’s ca’d a siller pin,
An whar he’s wantit an oaken bolt
He’s beat the yellow gold in.
12
The firstan shore that they cam till,
It was the shore o Linn;
They held their spears an beenits oot,
An they wouldna lat Allan in.
13
The neistan shore that they cam till
It was the shore o . . . ;
. . . . . . .
An they turned their ship aboot.
14
But the neistan shore that they cam till,
‘T was bonnie Aberdeen;
The fifes an drums they a’ did play,
To welcome Allan in.
15
‘O where is he, the bonnie wee boy
That took my helm in han
Till I gied up to my high topmast
An lookd oot for some dry lan?
16
‘He’s get half o my gowd, an half o my gear,
An the third pairt o my lan,
An since he’s rowt me safe to shore
He sall hae my daughter Ann.’
17
‘O here am I, the bonnie wee boy
That took your helm in han
Till ye gied up to your high topmast
An lookd oot for some dry lan.
18
‘I’ll nae seek half o your good, nor half o your gear,
Nor the third pairt o your lan,
But since I’ve rowt you safe to shore
I sall hae your daughter Ann.’
* * * * *
E
Kinloch MSS, V, 395; in the handwriting of John Hill Burton, when a
youth
1
The king he sits in Dumfermline,
Birlin at the wine,
And callin for the best skipper
That ever sailed the faem.
2
Then out it spak a bonny boy,
Sat at the king’s right knee;
‘Earl Patrick is the best skipper
That ever sailed the sea.’
3
The king he wrote a braed letter,
And sealed it wi his ring,
And sent it to Earl Patrick,
. . . . . .
4
‘Oh wha is this, or wha is that,
Has tald the king o me?
For I was niver a gude mariner,
And niver sailed the sea.
* * * * * *
5
‘Ye’ll eat and drink, my merry young men,
The red wine you amang,
For blaw it wind, or blaw it sleet,
Our ship maun sail the morn.
6
‘Late yestreen I saw the new meen
Wi the auld meen in hir arm,’
And sichand said him Earl Patrick,
‘I fear a deadly storm.’
7
They sailed up, sae did they down,
Thro mony a stormy stream,
Till they saw the Dam o Micklengaem,
When she sank amang the faem.
8
They sailed up, sae did they down,
Thro many a stormy stream,
Till they saw the Duke o Normandy,
And she sank among the faem.
9
They sailed up, sae did they down,
Thro many a stormy stream,
Till they saw the Black Shater o Leve London,
And her topmast gaed in nine.
10
‘Where will I get a bonny boy
That will tack my helm in hand
Till I gang up to my topmast,
And spy for some dry land?’
11
‘Now here am I, a bonny boy
Will tack yer helm in hand
Till ye go up to your topmast
But I fear ye’ll never see land.’
12
‘Cum down, cum down, my gude master,
Ye see not what I see,
For through and through yer bonny ship
I see the raging sea.’
13
‘Ye’ll tak four-and-twenty fether-beds
And lay my bonny ship roun,
And as muckle o the fine canvas
As make her haill and soun.
14
‘And where she wants an iron nail
O silver she’s hae three,
And where she wants a timmer-pin
We’ll rap the red goud in.’
* * * * * *
15
The firsten shore that they cam till,
They cad it shore the Linn;
Wi heart and hand and good command,
They towed their bonny ship in.
16
The nexten shore that they came till,
They caad it shore the Lee;
With heart and hand and good command,
They towed the bonny ship tee.
17
There was twenty ships gaed to the sea,
Twenty ships and ane,
And there was na ane came back again
But Earl Patrick alane.
* * * * *
#A.#
18^2. ill buckled _corruptly for the_ auld baucheld _of_ #C# 26
(baucheld==down at the heels).
#B.#
2^2. hind.
3^5. snakes o Leveland den; _and_ snakes o Levelanden, #C# 4^5. _I
have not found_ snake, _for_ ship, _in late English, but the A.
S._ snacc==_Icelandic_ snekkja, a fast ship, _may well have come
down_. _For_ Leve London _see_ #E# 9^3.
11^4. _We should perhaps read_ As make; _cf._ #A# 14^4, #D.# 8^4.
#C.#
4^5. black snakes o Levelanden.
#D.#
_After 2._ “A long, long gap, that I have got nobody to fill up. I
learned it from my mother, but she has quite forgotten it.”
9^1. whar he.
13^3. _Remark_: “Not let land here either.”
17^3. to yon, _or_ you.