Chapter IV (2)

This tale was current among the Cretan peasantry in 1820. Two thousand years before, Apollodorus had told much the same story of Peleus and Thetis (_Bibliotheca_, iii. 13). The chief difference is that it was Thetis who placed her son on the fire, to make him immortal, and Peleus who cried out. _The Tayl of the yong Tamlene_ is mentioned in the _Complaint of Scotland_ (1549).

Carterhaugh is about a mile from Selkirk, at the confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow.

The significance of 34.3, 'Then throw me into well water,' is lost in the present version, by the position of the line _after_ the 'burning gleed,' as it seems the reciter regarded the well-water merely as a means of extinguishing the gleed. But the immersion in water has a meaning far deeper and more interesting than that. It is a widespread and ancient belief in folklore that immersion in water (or sometimes milk) is indispensable to the recovery of human shape, after existence in a supernatural shape, or _vice versâ_. The version in the Glenriddell MSS. rightly gives it as the _last_ direction to Janet, to be adopted when the transformations are at an end:--

'First dip me in a stand o' milk,
And then a stand o' water.'

For the beginning of _Tam Lin_, compare the meeting of Akin and Lady Margaret in Elmond-wood in _Young Akin_.

TAM LIN

1.
O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.

2.
There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh
But they leave him a wad,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead.

3.
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she's awa' to Carterhaugh,
As fast as she can hie.

4.
When she came to Carterhaugh
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steed standing,
But away was himsel'.

5.
She had na pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till up then started young Tam Lin,
Says, 'Lady, thou's pu' nae mae.

6.
'Why pu's thou the rose, Janet,
And why breaks thou the wand?
Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh
Withoutten my command?'

7.
'Carterhaugh, it is my ain,
My daddie gave it me;
I'll come and gang by Carterhaugh,
And ask nae leave at thee.'
... ... ...

8.
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has snooded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she is to her father's ha',
As fast as she can hie.

9.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the ba',
And out then cam' the fair Janet,
Ance the flower amang them a'.

10.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the chess,
And out then cam' the fair Janet,
As green as onie glass.

11.
Out then spak an auld grey knight,
Lay o'er the castle wa',
And says, 'Alas, fair Janet, for thee
But we'll be blamed a'.'

12.
'Haud your tongue, ye auld fac'd knight,
Some ill death may ye die!
Father my bairn on whom I will,
I'll father nane on thee.'

13.
Out then spak her father dear,
And he spak meek and mild;
'And ever alas, sweet Janet,' he says,
'I think thou gaes wi' child.'

14.
'If that I gae wi' child, father,
Mysel' maun bear the blame;
There's ne'er a laird about your ha'
Shall get the bairn's name.

15.
'If my love were an earthly knight,
As he's an elfin grey,
I wadna gie my ain true-love
For nae lord that ye hae.

16.
'The steed that my true-love rides on
Is lighter than the wind;
Wi' siller he is shod before,
Wi' burning gowd behind.'

17.
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has snooded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she's awa' to Carterhaugh,
As fast as she can hie.

18.
When she cam' to Carterhaugh,
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steed standing,
But away was himsel'.

19.
She had na pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till up then started young Tam Lin,
Says, 'Lady, thou pu's nae mae.

20.
'Why pu's thou the rose, Janet,
Amang the groves sae green,
And a' to kill the bonie babe
That we gat us between?'

21.
'O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin,' she says,
'For's sake that died on tree,
If e'er ye was in holy chapel,
Or christendom did see?'

22.
'Roxbrugh he was my grandfather,
Took me with him to bide,
And ance it fell upon a day
That wae did me betide.

23.
'And ance it fell upon a day,
A cauld day and a snell,
When we were frae the hunting come,
That frae my horse I fell;
The Queen o' Fairies she caught me,
In yon green hill to dwell.

24.
'And pleasant is the fairy land,
But, an eerie tale to tell,
Ay at the end of seven years
We pay a tiend to hell;
I am sae fair and fu' o' flesh,
I'm fear'd it be mysel'.

25.
'But the night is Halloween, lady,
The morn is Hallowday;
Then win me, win me, an ye will,
For weel I wat ye may.

26.
'Just at the mirk and midnight hour
The fairy folk will ride,
And they that wad their true-love win,
At Miles Cross they maun bide.'

27.
'But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin,
Or how my true-love know,
Amang sae mony unco knights
The like I never saw?'

28.
'O first let pass the black, lady,
And syne let pass the brown,
But quickly run to the milk-white steed,
Pu' ye his rider down.

29.
'For I'll ride on the milk-white steed,
And ay nearest the town;
Because I was an earthly knight
They gie me that renown.

30.
'My right hand will be glov'd, lady,
My left hand will be bare,
Cockt up shall my bonnet be,
And kaim'd down shall my hair;
And thae's the takens I gie thee,
Nae doubt I will be there.

31.
'They'll turn me in your arms, lady,
Into an esk and adder;
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I am your bairn's father.

32.
'They'll turn me to a bear sae grim,
And then a lion bold;
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
As ye shall love your child.

33.
'Again they'll turn me in your arms
To a red het gaud of airn;
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I'll do to you nae harm.

34.
'And last they'll turn me in your arms
Into the burning gleed;
Then throw me into well water,
O throw me in wi' speed.

35.
'And then I'll be your ain true-love,
I'll turn a naked knight;
Then cover me wi' your green mantle,
And cover me out o' sight.'

36.
Gloomy, gloomy was the night,
And eerie was the way,
As fair Jenny in her green mantle
To Miles Cross she did gae.

37.
About the middle o' the night
She heard the bridles ring;
This lady was as glad at that
As any earthly thing.

38.
First she let the black pass by,
And syne she let the brown;
But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,
And pu'd the rider down.

39.
Sae weel she minded whae he did say,
And young Tarn Lin did win;
Syne cover'd him wi' her green mantle,
As blythe's a bird in spring.

40.
Out then spak the Queen o' Fairies,
Out of a bush o' broom:
'Them that has gotten young Tam Lin
Has gotten a stately groom.'

41.
Out then spak the Queen o' Fairies,
And an angry woman was she:
'Shame betide her ill-far'd face,
And an ill death may she die,
For she's ta'en awa' the bonniest knight
In a' my companie.

42.
'But had I kend, Tam Lin,' she says,
'What now this night I see,
I wad hae ta'en out thy twa grey een,
And put in twa een o' tree.'

[Annotations:
2.2: 'wad,' forfeit.
3.4: 'bree,' brow.
8.3: 'snooded,' tied with a fillet.
10.4: 'glass': perhaps a mistake for 'grass.'
23.2: 'snell,' keen.
24.4: 'tiend,' tithe.
31.2: 'esk,' newt.
33.2: 'gaud,' bar.
34.2: 'gleed,' a glowing coal.
42.4: 'tree,' wood.]

THE CLERK'S TWA SONS O' OWSENFORD, and THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL

These two ballads must be considered together, as the last six verses (18-23) of _The Clerk's Twa Sons_, as here given, are a variant of _The Wife of Usher's Well_.

+Texts.+--_The Clerk's Twa Sons_ is taken from Kinloch's MSS., in the handwriting of James Chambers, as it was sung to his grandmother by an old woman.

_The Wife of Usher's Well_ is from Scott's _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, and however incomplete, may well stand alone.

+The Story+ has a fairly close parallel in the well-known German ballad, 'Das Schloss in Oesterreich'; and a ballad found both in Spain and Italy has resemblances to each. But in these two ballads, especially in _The Wife of Usher's Well_, the interest lies rather in the impressiveness of the verses than in the story.

THE CLERK'S TWA SONS O' OWSENFORD

1.
O I will sing to you a sang,
But oh my heart is sair!
The clerk's twa sons in Owsenford
Has to learn some unco lair.

2.
They hadna been in fair Parish
A twelvemonth an' a day,
Till the clerk's twa sons o' Owsenford
Wi' the mayor's twa daughters lay.

3.
O word's gaen to the mighty mayor,
As he sail'd on the sea,
That the clerk's twa sons o' Owsenford
Wi' his twa daughters lay.

4.
'If they hae lain wi' my twa daughters,
Meg and Marjorie,
The morn, or I taste meat or drink,
They shall be hangit hie.'

5.
O word's gaen to the clerk himself,
As he sat drinkin' wine,
That his twa sons in fair Parish
Were bound in prison strong.

6.
Then up and spak the clerk's ladye,
And she spak pow'rfully:
'O tak with ye a purse of gold,
Or take with ye three,
And if ye canna get William,
Bring Andrew hame to me.'

7.
'O lye ye here for owsen, dear sons,
Or lie ye here for kye?
Or what is it that ye lie for,
Sae sair bound as ye lie?'

8.
'We lie not here for owsen, dear father,
Nor yet lie here for kye;
But it's for a little o' dear-bought love
Sae sair bound as we lye.'

9.
O he's gane to the mighty mayor
And he spake powerfully:

'Will ye grant me my twa sons' lives,
Either for gold or fee?
Or will ye be sae gude a man
As grant them baith to me?'

10.
'I'll no' grant ye yere twa sons' lives,
Neither for gold or fee,
Nor will I be sae gude a man
As gie them back to thee;
Before the morn at twelve o'clock
Ye'll see them hangit hie.'

11.
Up and spak his twa daughters,
And they spak pow'rfully:
'Will ye grant us our twa loves' lives,
Either for gold or fee?
Or will ye be sae gude a man
As grant them baith to me?'

12.
'I 'll no' grant ye yere twa loves' lives,
Neither for gold or fee,
Nor will I be sae gude a man
As grant their lives to thee;
Before the morn at twelve o'clock
Ye'll see them hangit hie.'

13.
O he's ta'en out these proper youths,
And hang'd them on a tree,
And he's bidden the clerk o' Owsenford
Gang hame to his ladie.

14.
His lady sits on yon castle-wa',
Beholding dale and doun,
An' there she saw her ain gude lord
Come walkin' to the toun.

15.
'Ye're welcome, welcome, my ain gude lord,
Ye're welcome hame to me;
But where away are my twa sons?
Ye should hae brought them wi' ye.'

16.
'It's I've putten them to a deeper lair,
An' to a higher schule;
Yere ain twa sons 'ill no' be here
Till the hallow days o' Yule.'

17.
'O sorrow, sorrow, come mak' my bed,
An' dool come lay me doon!
For I'll neither eat nor drink,
Nor set a fit on ground.'

18.
The hallow days of Yule are come,
The nights are lang and dark;
An' in an' cam' her ain twa sons,
Wi' their hats made o' the bark.

19.
'O eat an' drink, my merry men a',
The better shall ye fare,
For my twa sons the[y] are come hame
To me for evermair.'

20.
She has gaen an' made their bed,
An' she's made it saft an' fine,
An' she's happit them wi' her gay mantel,
Because they were her ain.

21.
O the young cock crew i' the merry Linkem,
An' the wild fowl chirp'd for day;
The aulder to the younger did say,
'Dear brother, we maun away.'

22.
'Lie still, lie still, a little wee while,
Lie still but if we may;
For gin my mother miss us away,
She'll gae mad or it be day.'

23.
O it's they've ta'en up their mother's mantel,
And they've hang'd it on the pin:
'O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantel,
Or ye hap us again!'

[Annotations:
1.4: 'lair,' lesson. Cp. 16.1.
7.1 etc.: 'owsen,' oxen.
17.2: 'dool,' grief.
18: Here begins _The Wife of Usher's Well_ in a variant.
20.3: 'happit,' wrapped.
21.1: 'Linkem,' perhaps a stock ballad-locality, like 'Lin,' etc.
See First Series, Introduction, p. 1.]

THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL

1.
There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them o'er the sea.

2.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
When word came to the carline wife
That her three sons were gane.

3.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
When word came to the carlin wife,
That her sons she'd never see.

4.
'I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fishes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood.'

5.
It fell about the Martinmass,
When nights are lang and mirk,
The carlin wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.

6.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise
That birk grew fair eneugh.
... ... ...

7.
'Blow up the fire, my maidens,
Bring water from the well;
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well.'

8.
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide,
And she's ta'en her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bedside.
... ... ...

9.
Up then crew the red, red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
''Tis time we were away.'

10.
The cock he hadna craw'd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',
Whan the youngest to the eldest said,
'Brother, we must awa'.

11.
'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin' worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.

12.
'Fare-ye-weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare-ye-weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire!'
... ... ...

[Annotations:
2.3: 'carline,' old woman.
5.4: 'birk,' birch.
6.1: 'syke,' marsh.
6.2: 'sheugh,' ditch.
11.2: 'channerin',' fretting.]

THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE SKERRIE

+The Text+ was communicated to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland by Captain F. W. L. Thomas, who took it down from the dictation of an old woman of Shetland.

+The Story+ is concerned with the Finn-myth. The Finns live in the depths of the sea. 'Their transfiguration into seals seems to be more a kind of deception they practise. For the males are described as most daring boatmen, with powerful sweep of the oar, who chase foreign vessels on the sea.... By means of a "skin" which they possess, the men and the women among them are able to change themselves into seals. But on shore, after having taken off the wrappage, they are, and behave like, real human beings.... Many a Finn woman has got into the power of a Shetlander, and borne children to him; but if the Finn woman succeeded in re-obtaining her sea-skin, or seal-skin, she escaped across the water' (Karl Blind in the _Contemporary Review_, September 1881, pp. 399-400). The same writer, in quoting a verse of this ballad, says, 'Shöol Skerry means Seal's Isle.' The whole article is of great interest.

'G. S. L.,' the author of _Shetland Fireside Tales, or the Hermit of Trosswickness_ (1877), remarks: 'The belief that witches and wizards came from the coast of Norway disguised as seals was entertained by many of the Shetland peasantry even so late as the beginning of the present century.' He goes on to prove the supernatural character of seals by relating an exploit of his own, in which a gun pointed at a seal refused to go off.

Sule Skerrie is a lonely islet to the north-east of Cape Wrath, about as far therefrom as from the Shetland Isles.

Another version of this ballad, unknown to Child, is given in the Appendix.

THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE SKERRIE

1.
An eartly nourris sits and sings,
And aye she sings, 'Ba, lily wean!
Little ken I my bairnis father,
Far less the land that he staps in.'

2.
Then ane arose at her bed-fit.
An' a grumly guest I'm sure was he:
'Here am I, thy bairnis father,
Although that I be not comelie.

3.
'I am a man, upo' the lan',
An' I am a silkie in the sea;
And when I'm far and far frae lan',
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.'

4.
'It was na weel,' quo' the maiden fair,
'It was na weel, indeed,' quo' she,
'That the Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie
Suld hae come and aught a bairn to me.'

5.
Now he has ta'en a purse of goud,
And he has pat it upo' her knee,
Sayin', 'Gie to me my little young son,
An' tak thee up thy nourris-fee.

6.
'An' it sall come to pass on a simmer's day,
When the sin shines het on evera stane,
That I will tak my little young son,
An' teach him for to swim the faem.

7.
'An' thu sall marry a proud gunner,
An' a proud gunner I'm sure he'll be,
An' the very first schot that ere he schoots,
He'll schoot baith my young son and me.'

[Annotations:
1.1: 'nourris,' nurse, nursing-mother.
2.2: 'grumly,' muddy, dreggy. --Jamieson.
3.2: 'silkie,' seal.
4.4: 'aught,' have.]

CLERK SANDERS

+The Text+ is given in full from Herd's MSS., where it concludes with a version of _Sweet William's Ghost_; and the last three stanzas, 42-44, are from Scott's later version of the ballad (1833) from recitation. Child divides the ballad as follows:-- _Clerk Sanders_, 1-26 of the present version; _Sweet William's Ghost_, 27-41. Scott made 'one or two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of the stanzas.'

+The Story+ of this admirable ballad in its various forms is paralleled in one or two of its incidents by a similar collection of Scandinavian ballads. Jamieson introduced into his version certain questions and answers (of the prevaricating type found in a baser form in _Our Goodman_) which are professedly of Scandinavian origin.

CLERK SANDERS

1.
Clark Sanders and May Margret
Walkt ower yon gravel'd green;
And sad and heavy was the love,
I wat, it fell this twa between.

2.
'A bed, a bed,' Clark Sanders said,
'A bed, a bed, for you and I:'
'Fye no, fye no,' the lady said,
'Until the day we married be.

3.
'For in it will come my seven brothers,
And a' their torches burning bright;
They'll say, We hae but ae sister,
And here her lying wi' a knight.'

4.
'Ye'l take the sourde fray my scabbord,
And lowly, lowly lift the gin,
And you may say, your oth to save,
You never let Clerk Sanders in.

5.
'Yele take a napken in your hand,
And ye'l ty up baith your een,
An' ye may say, your oth to save,
That ye saw na Sandy sen late yestreen.

6.
'Yele take me in your armes twa,
Yele carrey me ben into your bed,
And ye may say, your oth to save,
In your bower-floor I never tread.'

7.
She has ta'en the sourde fray his scabbord.
And lowly, lowly lifted the gin;
She was to swear, her oth to save,
She never let Clerk Sanders in.

8.
She has tain a napkin in her hand,
And she ty'd up baith her een;
She was to swear, her oth to save,
She saw na him sene late yestreen.

9.
She has ta'en him in her armes twa,
And carried him ben into her bed;
She was to swear, her oth to save,
He never in her bower-floor tread.

10.
In and came her seven brothers,
And all their torches burning bright;
Says thay, We hae but ae sister,
And see there her lying wi' a knight.

11.
Out and speaks the first of them,
'A wat they hay been lovers dear;'
Out and speaks the next of them,
'They hay been in love this many a year.'

12.
Out an' speaks the third of them,
'It wear great sin this twa to twain;'
Out an' speaks the fourth of them,
'It wear a sin to kill a sleeping man.'

13.
Out an' speaks the fifth of them,
'A wat they'll near be twain'd by me;'
Out an' speaks the sixt of them,
'We'l tak our leave an' gae our way.'

14.
Out an' speaks the seventh of them,
'Altho' there wear no a man but me,
I'se bear the brand into my hand
Shall quickly gar Clark Sanders die.'

15.
Out he has ta'en a bright long brand,
And he has striped it throw the straw,
And throw and throw Clarke Sanders' body
A wat he has gard cold iron gae.

16.
Sanders he started, an' Margret she lapt
Intill his arms where she lay;
And well and wellsom was the night,
A wat it was between these twa.

17.
And they lay still, and sleeped sound,
Untill the day began to daw;
And kindly till him she did say,
'It is time, trew-love, ye wear awa'.'

18.
They lay still, and sleeped sound,
Untill the sun began to shine;
She lookt between her and the wa',
And dull and heavy was his een.

19.
She thought it had been a loathsome sweat,
A wat it had fallen this twa between;
But it was the blood of his fair body,
A wat his life days wair na lang.

20.
'O Sanders, I'le do for your sake
What other ladys would na thoule;
When seven years is come and gone,
There's near a shoe go on my sole.

21.
'O Sanders, I'le do for your sake
What other ladies would think mare;
When seven years is come and gone,
There's nere a comb go in my hair.

22.
'O Sanders, I'le do for your sake,
What other ladies would think lack;
When seven years is come and gone,
I'le wear nought but dowy black.'

23.
The bells gaed clinking throw the towne,
To carry the dead corps to the clay;
An' sighing says her May Margret,
'A wat I bide a doulfou' day.'

24.
In an' come her father dear,
Stout steping on the floor;
... ... ...
... ... ...

25.
'Hold your toung, my doughter dear,
Let a' your mourning a-bee;
I'le carry the dead corps to the clay,
An' I'le come back an' comfort thee.'

26.
'Comfort well your seven sons;
For comforted will I never bee;
For it was neither lord nor loune
That was in bower last night wi' mee.'

27.
Whan bells war rung, an' mass was sung,
A wat a' man to bed were gone,
Clark Sanders came to Margret's window,
With mony a sad sigh and groan.

28.
'Are ye sleeping, Margret?' he says,
'Or are ye waking presentlie?
Give me my faith and trouthe again,
A wat, trew-love, I gied to thee.'

29.
'Your faith and trouth ye's never get,
Nor our trew love shall never twain,
Till ye come with me in my bower,
And kiss me both cheek and chin.'

30.
'My mouth it is full cold, Margret,
It has the smell now of the ground;
And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
Thy life days will not be long.

31.
'Cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
I wat the wild fule boded day;
Gie me my faith and trouthe again.
And let me fare me on my way.'

32.
'Thy faith and trouth thou shall na get,
And our trew love shall never twin,
Till ye tell me what comes of women
A wat that dy's in strong traveling?'

33.
'Their beds are made in the heavens high,
Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,
Well set about wi' gillyflowers:
A wat sweet company for to see.

34.
'O, cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
A wat the wilde foule boded day;
The salms of Heaven will be sung,
And ere now I'le be misst away.'

35.
Up she has tain a bright long wand,
And she has straked her trouth thereon;
She has given [it] him out at the shot-window,
Wi' many a sad sigh and heavy groan.

36.
'I thank you, Margret; I thank you, Margret,
And I thank you heartilie;
Gin ever the dead come for the quick,
Be sure, Margret, I'll come again for thee.'

37.
It's hose an' shoon an' gound alane,
She clame the wall and follow'd him,
Until she came to a green forest,
On this she lost the sight of him.

38.
'Is there any room at your head, Sanders?
Is there any room at your feet?
Or any room at your twa sides,
Whare fain, fain woud I sleep?'

39.
'Thair is na room at my head, Margret,
Thair is na room at my feet;
There is room at my twa sides,
For ladys for to sleep.

40.
'Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an' my winding sheet;
My bed it is full low, I say,
Down among the hongerey worms I sleep.

41.
'Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an' my winding sheet;
The dew it falls na sooner down
Then ay it is full weet.

42.
'But plait a wand o' bonny birk,
And lay it on my breast;
And shed a tear upon my grave,
And wish my saul gude rest.

43.
'And fair Margret, and rare Margret,
And Margret o' veritie,
Gin e'er ye love another man,
Ne'er love him as ye did me.'

44.
Then up and crew the milk-white cock,
And up and crew the grey;
The lover vanish'd in the air,
And she gaed weeping away.

[Annotations:
1.2: 'gravel'd green'; probably corrupt: perhaps a green with
gravelled walks.
1.4: 'I wat'; cp. 11.2, 13.2, 15.4, etc.
4.2: 'gin,' altered in the MS. to 'pin.' In either case, it ...
part of the door-latch.
6.2: 'ben,' within.
12.2: 'twain,' separate.
15: Cp. _The Bonny Birdy_, 15.1-4 (First Series, p. 28).
15.2: 'striped,' whetted. See First Series, Introduction,
pp. xlix-l.
16.3: 'well and wellsom,' probably a corruption of 'wae and
waesome,' sad and woful.
20.2: 'thoule,' endure.
22.2: 'lack,' discredit.
22.4: 'dowy,' mournful.
30.3,4: Cp. _The Unquiet Grave_, 5.3,4.
31.1: 'mid-larf,' probably corrupt: changed by Scott to
'midnight.' The meaning is unknown.
35.3: 'shot-window,' a window which opens and shuts. See First
Series, Introduction, p. 1.
40.1: 'meal,' mould, earth.]

YOUNG HUNTING

+The Text+ is given from two copies in Herd's MSS. as collated by Child, with the exception of two lines, 9.3,4, which are taken from a third and shorter copy in Herd's MSS., printed by him in the _Scottish Songs_. Scott's ballad, _Earl Richard_, is described by him as made up from the above-mentioned copies of Herd, with some trivial alterations adopted from tradition--a totally inadequate account of wholesale alterations. Scott also gives a similar ballad in _Lord William_.

+The Story.+--Young Hunting, a king's son, tells a former mistress that he has a new sweetheart whom he loves thrice as well. The lady conceals her anger, plies him with wine, and slays him in his drunken sleep. Her deed unluckily is overseen by a bonny bird, whom she attempts to coax into captivity, but fails. She dresses Young Hunting for riding, and throws him into the Clyde. The king his father asks for him. She swears by corn (see First Series, _Glasgerion_, p. 1) that she has not seen him since yesterday at noon. The king's divers search for him in vain, until the bonny bird reminds them of the method of finding a drowned corpse by the means of candles. The lady still denies her guilt, and accuses her maid 'Catheren,' but the bonfire refuses to consume the innocent Catheren. When the real culprit is put in, she burns like hoky-gren.

The discovery of a drowned body by candles is a recognised piece of folklore. Usually the candle is stuck in a loaf of bread or on a cork, and set afloat in the river; sometimes a hole is cut in a loaf of bread and mercury poured in to weight it; even a chip of wood is used. The superstition still survives. The most rational explanation offered is that as eddies in rapid streams form deep pools, in which a body might easily be caught, so a floating substance indicates the place by being caught in the centre of the eddy.

The failure of the fire to burn an innocent maid is also, of course, a well-known incident.

YOUNG HUNTING

1.
'O Lady, rock never your young son young
One hour longer for me,
For I have a sweetheart in Garlick's Wells
I love thrice better than thee.

2.
'The very sols of my love's feet
Is whiter then thy face:'
'But nevertheless na, Young Hunting,
Ye'l stay wi' me all night.'

3.
She has birl'd in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the beer,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood steer.

4.
She has birl'd in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the wine,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood swine.

5.
Up she has tain him Young Hunting,
And she has had him to her bed,
... ... ...
... ... ...

6.
And she has minded her on a little penknife,
That hangs low down by her gare,
And she has gin him Young Hunting
A deep wound and a sare.

7.
Out an' spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon her head:
'Lady, keep well thy green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood.'

8.
'O better I'll keep my green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood,
Nor thou can keep thy flattering toung,
That flatters in thy head.

9.
'Light down, light down, my bonny bird,
Light down upon my hand,
And ye sail hae a cage o' the gowd
Where ye hae but the wand.

10.
'O siller, O siller shall be thy hire,
An' goud shall be thy fee,
An' every month into the year
Thy cage shall changed be.'

11.
'I winna light down, I shanna light down,
I winna light on thy hand;
For soon, soon wad ye do to me
As ye done to Young Hunting.'

12.
She has booted and spir'd him Young Hunting
As he had been gan to ride,
A hunting-horn about his neck,
An' the sharp sourd by his side;
And she has had him to yon wan water,
For a' man calls it Clyde.

13.
The deepest pot intill it a'
She has puten Young Hunting in;
A green truff upon his breast,
To hold that good lord down.

14.
It fell once upon a day
The king was going to ride,
And he sent for him Young Hunting,
To ride on his right side.

15.
She has turn'd her right and round about,
She sware now by the corn:
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at morn.'

16.
She has turn'd her right and round about,
She sware now by the moon:
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at noon.

17.
'It fears me sair in Clyde Water
That he is drown'd therein:'
O they ha' sent for the king's duckers
To duck for Young Hunting.

18.
They ducked in at the tae water-bank,
They ducked out at the tither:
'We'll duck no more for Young Hunting
All tho' he wear our brother.'

19.
Out an' spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon their heads:
... ... ...
... ... ...

20.
'O he's na drown'd in Clyde Water,
He is slain and put therein;
The lady that lives in yon castil
Slew him and put him in.

21.
'Leave aff your ducking on the day,
And duck upon the night;
Whear ever that sakeless knight lys slain,
The candels will shine bright.'

22.
Thay left off their ducking o' the day,
And ducked upon the night,
And where that sakeless knight lay slain,
The candles shone full bright.

23.
The deepest pot intill it a'
Thay got Young Hunting in;
A green turff upon his brest,
To hold that good lord down.

24.
O thay hae sent aff men to the wood
To hew down baith thorn an' fern,
That they might get a great bonefire
To burn that lady in.
'Put na the wyte on me,' she says,
'It was her May Catheren.'

25.
Whan thay had tane her May Catheren,
In the bonefire set her in,
It wad na take upon her cheeks,
Nor take upon her chin,
Nor yet upon her yallow hair,
To healle the deadly sin.

26.
Out they hae tain her May Catheren
And they hay put that lady in;
O it took upon her cheek, her cheek,
An' it took upon her chin,
An' it took on her fair body,
She burnt like hoky-gren.

[Annotations:
3.1: 'birl'd,' poured; 'him,' _i.e._ for him.
4.4: See First Series, _Brown Robin_, 7.4; _Fause Footrage_, 16.4;
and Introduction, p. li.
6.2: 'gare,' part of the dress. See First Series, Introduction,
p. 1.
8.3: 'flattering,' wagging.
9.4: 'wand,' wood, wicker.
13.1: 'pot,' pot-hole: a hole scooped by the action of the stream
in the rock-bed of a river.
13.3: 'truff' = turf.
17.3: 'duckers,' divers.
21.3: 'sakeless,' innocent.
24.5: 'wyte,' blame.
24.6: 'May,' maid.
26.6: 'hoky-gren'; 'gren' is a bough or twig; 'hoakie,' according
to Jamieson, is a fire that has been covered up with cinders.
'Hoky-gren,' therefore, is perhaps a kind of charcoal. Scott
substitutes 'hollin green,' green holly.]

THE THREE RAVENS

and

THE TWA CORBIES

+The Texts+ of these two variations on the same theme are taken from T. Ravenscroft's _Melismata_, 1611, and Scott's _Minstrelsy_, 1803, respectively. There are several other versions of the Scots ballad, while Motherwell prints _The Three Ravens_, changing only the burden.

Chappell (_Popular Music of the Olden Time_) says of the English version that he has been 'favored with a variety of copies of it, written down from memory; and all differing in some respects, both as to words and tune, but with sufficient resemblance to prove a similar origin.' Consciously or not, the ballad, as set by him to its traditional tune, is to be sung without the threefold repetition shown by Ravenscroft, thus compressing two verses of the ballad into each repetition of the tune, and halving the length of the song.

THE THREE RAVENS

1.
There were three rauens sat on a tree,
_Downe a downe, hay down, hay downe_
There were three rauens sat on a tree,
_With a downe_
There were three rauens sat on a tree,
They were as blacke as they might be.
_With a downe derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe._

2.
The one of them said to his mate,
'Where shall we our breakefast take?'

3.
'Downe in yonder greene field,
There lies a knight slain vnder his shield.

4.
'His hounds they lie downe at his feete,
So well they can their master keepe,

5.
'His haukes they flie so eagerly,
There's no fowle dare him come nie.'

6.
Downe there comes a fallow doe,
As great with yong as she might goe.

7.
She lift vp his bloudy hed,
And kist his wounds that were so red.

8.
She got him vp vpon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.

9.
She buried him before the prime,
She was dead her selfe ere euen-song time.

10.
God send euery gentleman
Such haukes, such hounds, and such a leman.

[Annotations:
9.1: 'prime,' the first hour of the day.]

THE TWA CORBIES

1.
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane,
The tane unto the t'other say,
'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'

2.
'In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And nae body kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

3.
'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak' our dinner sweet.

4.
'Ye'll sit on his white hause bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een:
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair,
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

5.
'Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken whare he is gane:
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'

[Annotations:
2.1: 'fail dyke,' turf wall.
4.1: 'hause-bane,' neck-bone.
4.4: 'theek,' thatch.]

YOUNG BENJIE

+The Text+ is given from Scott's _Minstrelsy_ (1803). He remarks, 'The ballad is given from tradition.' No. 29 in the Abbotsford MS., 'Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,' is _Young Benjie_ (or Boonjie as there written) in thirteen stanzas, headed 'From Jean Scott,' and written in William Laidlaw's hand. All of this except the first stanza is transferred, with or without changes, to Scott's ballad, which is nearly twice as long.

+The Story+ of this ballad, simple in itself, introduces to us the elaborate question of the 'lyke-wake,' or the practice of watching through the night by the side of a corpse. More about this will be found under _The Lyke-Wake Dirge_, and in the Appendix at the end of this volume. Here it will suffice to quote Sir Walter Scott's introduction:--

'In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is supposed to hover around its mortal habitation, and, if provoked by certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such enquiries, however, are always dangerous, and never to be resorted to unless the deceased is suspected to have suffered _foul play_, as it is called.... One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is setting the door ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar while a corpse lies in the house. The door must either be left wide open or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the first sight of it.' --(Ed. 1803, vol. iii. pp. 251-2.)

YOUNG BENJIE

1.
Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland,
The fairest was Marjorie;
And young Benjie was her ae true love,
And a dear true-love was he.

2.
And wow! but they were lovers dear,
And loved fu' constantlie;
But ay the mair when they fell out,
The sairer was their plea.

3.
And they hae quarrelled on a day,
Till Marjorie's heart grew wae,
And she said she'd chuse another luve.
And let young Benjie gae.

4.
And he was stout, and proud hearted,
And thought o't bitterlie,
And he's gaen by the wan moon-light,
To meet his Marjorie.

5.
'O open, open, my true love!
O open, and let me in!'
'I dare na open, young Benjie,
My three brothers are within.

6.
'Ye lied, ye lied, my bonny burd,
Sae loud's I hear ye lie;
As I came by the Lowden banks,
They bade gude e'en to me.

7.
'But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,
That I hae loved sae lang!
It sets ye chuse another love,
And let young Benjie gang.'

8.
Then Marjorie turned her round about,
The tear blinding her ee,
'I darena, darena let thee in,
But I'll come down to thee.'

9.
Then saft she smiled, and said to him,
'O what ill hae I done?'
He took her in his armis twa,
And threw her o'er the linn.

10.
The stream was strang, the maid was stout,
And laith laith to be dang,
But, ere she wan the Lowden banks,
Her fair colour was wan.

11.
Then up bespak her eldest brother,
'O see na ye what I see?'
And out then spak her second brother,
'It's our sister Marjorie!'

12.
Out then spak her eldest brother,
'O how shall we her ken?'
And out then spak her youngest brother,
'There's a honey mark on her chin.'

13.
Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse,
And laid it on the grund:
'O wha has killed our ae sister,
And how can he be found?

14.
'The night it is her low lykewake,
The morn her burial day,
And we maun watch at mirk midnight,
And hear what she will say.'

15.
Wi' doors ajar, and candle-light,
And torches burning clear,
The streikit corpse, till still midnight,
They waked, but naething hear.

16.
About the middle o' the night,
The cocks began to craw,
And at the dead hour o' the night,
The corpse began to thraw.

17.
'O wha has done the wrang, sister,
Or dared the deadly sin?
Wha was sae stout, and feared nae dout,
As thraw ye o'er the linn?'

18.
'Young Benjie was the first ae man,
I laid my love upon;
He was sae stout and proud-hearted,
He threw me o'er the linn.'

19.
'Sall we young Benjie head, sister,
Sall we young Benjie hang,
Or sall we pike out his twa gray een,
And punish him ere he gang?'

20.
'Ye mauna Benjie head, brothers,
Ye mauna Benjie hang,
But ye maun pike out his twa gray een,
And punish him ere he gang.

21.
'Tie a green gravat round his neck,
And lead him out and in,
And the best ae servant about your house,
To wait young Benjie on.

22.
'And ay, at every seven years' end,
Ye'll tak him to the linn;
For that's the penance he maun drie,
To scug his deadly sin.'

[Annotations:
2.4: 'plea,' quarrel.
7.3: 'sets,' befits.
9.4: 'linn,' stream.
10.3: 'dang,' overcome.
15.3: 'streikit,' stretched out.
15.4: 'wake,' watch.
16.4: 'thraw,' twist.
22.4: 'scug,' expiate.]

THE LYKE-WAKE DIRGE

+The Text+ is given _verbatim et literatim_ from John Aubrey's MS. of his _Remains of Gentilisme & Judaisme_ (1686-7) in the Lansdowne MSS., No. 231, folio 114 _recto_ and _verso_. This text has often been printed before (see Appendix), but always with errors. The only change made here is the placing of Aubrey's marginal notes among the footnotes: the spelling is Aubrey's spelling. The present version was obtained by Aubrey in 1686 from an informant whose father had heard it sung sixty years previously.

Sir Walter Scott's text, better known than Aubrey's, presents very few variations, the chief being 'sleete' for 'fleet' in 1.3 (see below). This would seem to point to the fact that Scott obtained his version from a manuscript, and confused the antique '[s]' (= s) with 'f.' A collation, incomplete and inexact, of the two texts is given by T. F. Henderson in his edition of the _Minstrelsy_ (1902), vol. iii. pp. 170-2.

+The Story.+--This dirge, of course, is not a ballad in the true sense of the word. But it is concerned with myths so widespread and ancient, that as much could be written about the dirge as almost any one of the ballads proper. I have added an Appendix at the end of this volume, to which those interested in the subject may refer. For the present, the following account may suffice.

Ritson found an illustration of this dirge in a manuscript letter, written by one signing himself 'H. Tr.' to Sir Thomas Chaloner, in the Cotton MSS. (Julius, F. vi., fols. 453-462). The date approximately is the end of the sixteenth century (Sir Thomas Chaloner the elder, 1521-1565; the younger, 1561-1615). The letter is concerned with antiquities in Durham and Yorkshire, especially near Guisborough, an estate of the Chaloner family. The sentence referring to the Lyke-Wake Dirge was printed by Scott, to whom it was communicated by Ritson's executor after his death. It is here given as re-transcribed from the manuscript (f. 461 _verso_).

'When any dieth, certaine women singe a songe to the dead body, recytinge the iorney that the partie deceased must goe, and they are of beleife (such is their fondnesse) that once in their liues yt is good to giue a payre of newe shoes to a poore man; forasmuch as after this life they are to pass barefoote through a greate launde full of thornes & furzen, excepte by the meryte of the Almes aforesaid they have redeemed their forfeyte; for at the edge of the launde an aulde man shall meete them with the same shoes that were giuen by the partie when he was liuinge, and after he hath shodde them he dismisseth them to goe through thicke and thin without scratch or scalle.'

The myth of Hell-shoon (Norse, _helsko_) appears under various guises in many folklores. (See Appendix.)

Sir Walter Scott, in printing 'sleete' in 1.3, said: 'The word _sleet_, in the chorus,[1] seems to be corrupted from _selt_, or salt; a quantity of which, in compliance with a popular superstition, is frequently placed on the breast of a corpse.' It is true that a superstition to this effect does exist: but 'fleet' is doubtless the right reading. Aubrey glosses it as 'water'; but Murray has shown (_New English Dictionary, s.v._), by three quotations from wills dated between 1533 and 1570, that 'fire and flet' is an expression meaning simply 'fire and house-room.' 'Flet,' in short, is our modern 'flat' in an unspecialised and uncorrupted form.

[Footnote 1: Scott repeats the first stanza at the end of his
version.]

THE LYKE-WAKE DIRGE

(Lansdowne MS., 231, fol. 114 _recto_.)

1.
This ean night, this ean night,
eve[r]y night and awle:
Fire and Fleet and Candle-light
and Christ recieve thy Sawle.

2.
When thou from hence doest pass away
every night and awle
To Whinny-moor thou comest at last
and Christ recieve thy [thy silly poor] Sawle.

3.
If ever thou gave either hosen or shun
every night and awle
Sitt thee downe and putt them on
and Christ recieve thy Sawle.

4.
But if hosen nor shoon thou never gave nean
every night &c:
The Whinnes shall prick thee to the bare beane
and Christ recieve thy Sawle.

5.
From Whinny-moor that thou mayst pass
every night &c:
To Brig o' Dread thou comest at last
and Christ &c:
[fol. 114 _verso_]
no brader than a thread.

6.
From Brig of Dread that thou mayst pass
every night &c:
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last
and Christ &c:

7.
If ever thou gave either Milke or drinke
every night &c:
The fire shall never make thee shrink
and Christ &c:

8.
But if milk nor drink thou never gave nean
every night &c:
The Fire shall burn thee to the bare bane
and Christ recive thy Sawle.

[Annotations:
1.1: 'ean,' one.
1.3: 'Fleet,' water. --_Aubrey's marginal note._ See above.
2.3: Whin is a Furze. --_Aubrey_.
2.4: This line stands in the MS. as here printed.
3.1: Job cap. xxxi. 19. If I have seen any perish for want of
cloathing, or any poor without covering: 20. If his loyns have
not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my
sheep, &c. --_Aubrey_.
3.3: There will be hosen and shoon for them. --_Aubrey_.
4.3: 'beane.' The 'a' was inserted by Aubrey after writing 'bene.'
6.1: 'no brader than a thread.' Written by Aubrey as here printed
over the second half of the line. Probably it indicates a lost
stanza. See Appendix.
8.3: 'bane' might be read 'bene.']

THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY

+The Text+ is given from Allan Ramsay's _Tea-Table Miscellany_, where it first appeared in the tenth edition (1740) in vol. iv. pp. 356-7. Child had not seen this, and gave his text from the eleventh edition of 1750. There is, however, scarcely any difference.

+The Story+ of the murder of the Earl of Murray by the Earl of Huntly in February 1592 is found in several histories and other accounts:-- _The History of the Church of Scotland_ (1655) by John Spottiswoode, Archbishop of Glasgow and of St. Andrews: _History of the Western Highlands and Isles of Scotland_ (1836) by Donald Gregory: _The History and Life of King James_ (the Sixth), ed. T. Thomson, Bannatyne Club, (1825): _Extracts from the Diarey of R[obert] B[irrel], Burges of Edinburgh_ (? 1820): and Sir Walter Scott's _Tales of a Grandfather_. The following condensed account may suffice:--James Stewart, son of Sir James Stewart of Doune ('Down,' 6.2), Earl of Murray by his marriage with the heiress of the Regent Murray, 'was a comely personage, of a great stature, and strong of body like a kemp,' whence he was generally known as the Bonny Earl of Murray. In the last months of 1591, a rumour reached the King's ears that the Earl of Murray had assisted in, or at least countenanced, the attack recently made on Holyrood House by Stewart, Earl of Bothwell; and Huntly was commissioned to arrest Murray and bring him to trial. Murray, apprehended at Donibristle (or Dunnibirsel), his mother the Lady Doune's house, refused to surrender to his feudal enemy the Earl of Huntly, and the house was fired. Murray, after remaining behind the rest of his party, rushed out and broke through the enemy, but was subsequently discovered (by the plumes on his headpiece, which had caught fire) and mortally wounded. Tradition says that Huntly was compelled by his followers to incriminate himself in the deed, and struck the dying Murray in the face, whereat the bonny Earl said, 'You have spoiled a better face than your own.'

THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY

1.
Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands,
Oh! where have you been?
They have slain the Earl of Murray,
And they lay'd him on the green!
_They have, &c._

2.
Now wae be to thee, Huntly,
And wherefore did you sae?
I bade you bring him wi' you,
But forbade you him to slay.
_I bade, &c._

3.
He was a braw gallant,
And he rid at the ring;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh! he might have been a King.
_And the, &c._

4.
He was a braw gallant,
And he play'd at the ba';
And the bonny Earl of Murray
Was the flower amang them a'.
_And the, &c._

5.
He was a braw gallant,
And he play'd at the glove;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh! he was the Queen's love.
_And the, &c._

6.
Oh! lang will his lady
Look o'er the castle Down,
E'er she see the Earl of Murray
Come sounding thro' the town.
_E'er she, &c._

[Annotations:
3.2: A game of skill and horsemanship.
5.2: Probably like the last.
6.3: 'E'er' = ere.]

BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL

+The Text+ is from Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, pp. 44-5.

+The Story.+--Motherwell says it 'is probably a lament for one of the adherents of the house of Argyle, who fell in the battle of Glenlivat, stricken on Thursday, the third day of October, 1594 years.' Another suggestion is that it refers to a Campbell of Calder killed in a feud with Campbell of Ardkinglas, the murder being the result of the same conspiracy which brought the Bonny Earl of Murray to his death. Another version of the ballad, however, gives the name as James, and it is useless and unnecessary to particularise.

BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL

1.
Hie upon Hielands
And low upon Tay,
Bonnie George Campbell
Rade out on a day.
Saddled and bridled
And gallant rade he;
Hame came his gude horse,
But never cam he!

2.
Out cam his auld mither
Greeting fu' sair,
And out cam his bonnie bride
Rivin' her hair.
Saddled and bridled
And booted rade he;
Toom hame cam the saddle,
But never cam he!

3.
'My meadow lies green,
And my corn is unshorn;
My barn is to big,
And my babie's unborn.'
Saddled and bridled
And booted rade he;
Toom hame cam the saddle,
But never cam he!

[Annotations:
2.4: 'rivin',' tearing.
2.7: 'Toom,' empty.
3.3: 'is to big,' remains to be built.]

THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW