Chapter XV: Part 15

8
'Now whether will ye be a banisht man's wife,
Or will ye be sticked wi my pen-knife?'

9
'I will na be ca'd a banished man's wife;
I'll rather be sticked wi your pen-knife.'

10
And he has taen out his little pen-knife,
And frae this lady he has taen the life.

11
He has taen the youngest by the hand,
He has turned her about and he bad her stand.

12
'Now whether will ye be a banished man's wife,
Or will ye be sticked wi my pen-knife?'

13
'I winnae be called a banished man's wife,
Nor yet will I be sticked wi your pen-knife.

14
'But gin my three brethren had been here,
Ye had nae slain my sisters dear.'

* * * * * * *

C

Motherwell's MS., p. 172. From J. Goldie, March, 1825.

1
There were three sisters on a road,
Gilly flower gentle rosemary
And there they met a banished lord.
And the dew it hings over the mulberry tree

2
The eldest sister was on the road,
And there she met with the banished lord.

3
'O will ye consent to lose your life,
Or will ye be a banished lord's wife?'

4
'I'll rather consent to lose my life
Before I'll be a banished lord's wife.'

5
'It's lean your head upon my staff,'
And with his pen-knife he has cutted it aff.

6
He flang her in amang the broom,
Saying, 'Lye ye there till another ane come.'

7
The second sister was on the road,
And there she met with the banished lord.

8
'O will ye consent to lose your life,
Or will ye be a banished lord's wife?'

9
'I'll rather consent to lose my life
Before I'll be a banished lord's wife.'

10
'It's lean your head upon my staff,'
And with his pen-knife he has cutted it aff.

11
He flang her in amang the broom,
Saying, 'Lie ye there till another ane come.'

12
The youngest sister was on the road,
And there she met with the banished lord.

13
'O will ye consent to lose your life,
Or will ye be a banished lord's wife?'

14
'O if my three brothers were here,
Ye durstna put me in such a fear.'

15
'What are your three brothers, altho they were here,
That I durstna put you in such a fear?'

16
'My eldest brother's a belted knight,
The second, he's a ...

17
'My youngest brother's a banished lord,
And oftentimes he walks on this road.'

* * * * * * *

D

Motherwell's MS., p. 174. From the recitation of Agnes
Lyle, Kilbarchan, July 27, 1825.

1
There were three sisters, they lived in a bower,
Sing Anna, sing Margaret, sing Marjorie
The youngest o them was the fairest flower.
And the dew goes thro the wood, gay ladie

2
The oldest of them she's to the wood gane,
To seek a braw leaf and to bring it hame.

3
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.

4
'Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?'

5
'O kind sir, if I hae 't at my will,
I'll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.'

6
He's taen out his we pen-knife,
He's twinned this young lady of her sweet life

7
He wiped his knife along the dew;
But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.

8
The second of them she's to the wood gane,
To seek her old sister, and to bring her hame.

9
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.

10
'Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?'

11
'O kind sir, if I hae 't at my will,
I'll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.'

12
He's taen out his we pen-knife,
He's twinned this young lady of her sweet life.

13
He wiped his knife along the dew;
But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.

14
The youngest of them she's to the wood gane,
To seek her two sisters, and to bring them hame.

15
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.

16
'Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?'

17
'If my three brethren they were here,
Such questions as these thou durst nae speer.'

18
'Pray, what may thy three brethren be,
That I durst na mak so bold with thee? '

19
'The eldest o them is a minister bred,
He teaches the people from evil to good.

20
'The second o them is a ploughman good,
He ploughs the land for his livelihood.

21
'The youngest of them is an outlyer bold,
Lies many a long night in the woods so cold.'

22
He stuck his knife then into the ground,
He took a long race, let himself fall on.

E

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 212. From
Mearnsshire.

1
The Duke o Perth had three daughters,
Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;
And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane,
To pu the rose and the fair lilie.

2
But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,
A double rose, but barely three,
Whan up and started a Loudon lord,
Wi Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

3
'Will ye be called a robber's wife?
Or will ye be stickit wi my bloody knife?
For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,
For pu'in them sae fair and free.'

4
'Before I'll be called a robber's wife,
I'll rather be stickit wi your bloody knife,
For pu'in,' etc.

5
Then out he's tane his little pen-knife,
And he's parted her and her sweet life,
And thrown her oer a bank o brume,
There never more for to be found.

6
The Duke o Perth had three daughters,
Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;
And Margaret's to the greenwud gane,
To pu the rose and the fair lilie.

7
She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,
A double rose, but barely three,
When up and started a Loudon lord,
Wi Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

8
'Will ye be called a robber's wife?
Or will ye be stickit wi my bloody knife?
For pu'in,' etc.

9
'Before I'll be called a robber's wife,
I'll rather be stickit wi your bloody knife,
For pu'in,' etc.

10
Then out he's tane his little pen-knife,
And he's parted her and her sweet life,
For pu'in, etc.

11
The Duke o Perth had three daughters,
Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;
And Mary's to the greenwud gane,
To pu the rose and the fair lilie.

12
She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,
A double rose, but barely three,
When up and started a Loudon lord,
Wi Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

13
'O will ye be called a robber's wife?
Or will ye be stickit wi my bloody knife?
For pu'in,' etc.

14
'Before I'll be called a robber's wife,
I'll rather be stickit wi your bloody knife,
For pu'in,' etc.

15
But just as he took out his knife,
To tak frae her her ain sweet life,
Her brother John cam ryding bye,
And this bloody robber he did espy.

16
But when he saw his sister fair,
He kennd her by her yellow hair;
He calld upon his pages three,
To find this robber speedilie.

17
'My sisters twa that are dead and gane,
For whom we made a heavy maene,
It's you that's twinnd them o their life,
And wi your cruel bloody knife.

18
'Then for their life ye sair shall dree;
Ye sail be hangit on a tree,
Or thrown into the poisond lake,
To feed the toads and rattle-snake.'

* * * * *

#A. a.#

"Given from two copies obtained from recitation, which
differ but little from each other. Indeed, the only
variation is in the verse where the outlawed brother
unweetingly slays his sister." [19.] _Motherwell._

#b.#

19.
He's taken out his wee penknife,
Hey how bonnie
And he's twined her o her ain sweet life.
On the, etc.

#c.#

_The first stanza, only_:

There were three sisters livd in a bower,
Fair Annet and Margaret and Marjorie
And they went out to pu a flower.
And the dew draps off the hyndberry tree

#B. a.#

"To a wild melancholy old tune not in any collection."

"N.B. There are a great many other verses which I could
not recover. Upon describing her brothers, the banished
man finds that he has killed his two brothers and two
sisters,--upon which he kills himself." _Herd._

2^2. _MS._ Quhen.

4^1, 4^2, 5^2, 12^1, 12^2, 13^2, 14^2. ye, your, yet,
_MS._ ze, zour, zet. _8, 9, 10 are not written out._

#b.#

"Of this I have got only 14 stanzas, but there are many
more. It is a horrid story. The banished man discovers
that he has killed two of his brothers and his three (?)
sisters, upon which he kills himself." _Jamieson_.

_The first two stanzas only are cited by Jamieson_.

1^1. three sisters.

2^2. up there started.

#C.#

_7-11 and 12^2 are not written out in the MS._ "Repeat as
to the second sister, mutatis mutandis." _Motherwell._

#D#.

_9-13 are not written out in the MS._ "Same as 1st
sister." _Motherwell._

14^2. bring her.

_15,16 are not written out._ "Same as 1st and 2d sisters,
but this additional, viz^t." _M._

22^2. longe, _or_ large?

[156] Lyngbye insists on translating _vadlarar_ pilgrims, though his people understood the word to mean robbers. He refers to the Icelandic vallari, which, originally a pilgrim, came to mean a tramp. No one can fail to recognize the character who has become the terror of our rural districts, and to whom, in our preposterous regard for the rights of "man," we sacrifice the peace, and often the lives, of women.

15

LEESOME BRAND

#A.# 'Leesome Brand.' #a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North
of Scotland, I, 38. #b.# Motherwell's MS., p. 626.

#B.# 'The Broom blooms bonnie,' etc., Motherwell's MS., p.
365.

This is one of the cases in which a remarkably fine ballad has been worse preserved in Scotland than anywhere else. Without light from abroad we cannot fully understand even so much as we have saved, and _with_ this light comes a keen regret for what we have lost.

#A#, from Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, is found also in Motherwell's MS., but without doubt was derived from Buchan. Though injured by the commixture of foreign elements, #A# has still much of the original story. #B# has, on the contrary, so little that distinctively and exclusively belongs to this story that it might almost as well have been put with the following ballad, 'Sheath and Knife,' as here. A third ballad, 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' preserves as much of the story as #A#, but in an utterly incongruous and very modern setting, being, like 'Erlinton,' #C#, forced into an absurd Robin Hood framework.

The mixture of four-line with two-line stanzas in #A# of course comes from different ballads having been blended, but for all that, these ballads might have had the same theme. Stanzas 33-35, however, are such as we meet with in ballads of the 'Earl Brand' class, but not in those of the class to which 'Leesome Brand' belongs. In the English ballads, and nearly all the Danish, of the former class, there is at least a conversation between son and mother [father], whereas in the other the catastrophe excludes such a possibility. Again, the "unco land" in the first stanza, "where winds never blew nor cocks ever crew," is at least a reminiscence of the paradise depicted in the beginning of many of the versions of 'Ribold and Guldborg,' and stanza 4 of 'Leesome Brand' closely resembles stanza 2 of 'Earl Brand,' #A#.[157] Still, the first and fourth stanzas suit one ballad as well as the other, which is not true of 33-35.

The name Leesome Brand may possibly be a corruption of Hildebrand, as Earl Brand almost certainly is; but a more likely origin is the Gysellannd of one of the kindred Danish ballads.

The white hind, stanzas 28, 30, is met with in no other ballad of this class, and, besides this, the last four stanzas are in no kind of keeping with what goes before, for the "young son" is spoken of as having been first brought home at some previous period. Grundtvig has suggested that the hind and the blood came from a lost Scottish ballad resembling 'The Maid Transformed into a Hind,' D.g.F, No 58. In this ballad a girl begs her brother, who is going hunting, to spare the little hind that "plays before his foot." The brother nevertheless shoots the hind, though not mortally, and sets to work to flay it, in which process he discovers his sister under the hind's hide. His sister tells him that she had been successively changed into a pair of scissors, a sword, a hare, a hind, by her step-mother, and that she was not to be free of the spell until she had drunk of her brother's blood. Her brother at once cuts his fingers, gives her some of his blood, and the girl is permanently restored to her natural shape, and afterwards is happily married. Stanzas similar to 36-41 of #A# and 12-16 of #B# will be found in the ballad which follows this, to which they are especially well suited by their riddling character; and I believe that they belong there, and not here. It is worthy of remark, too, that there is a _hind_ in another ballad, closely related to No 16 ('The Bonny Hind'), and that the hind in 'Leesome Brand' may, in some way not now explicable, have come from this. The confounding of 'Leesome Brand' with a ballad of the 'Bonny Hind' class would be paralleled in Danish, for in 'Redselille og Medelvold' #T# (and perhaps #I#, see Grundtvig's note, V, 237), the knight is the lady's brother.

The "auld son" in #B#, like the first bringing home of the _young_ son in #A# 45, 47, shows how completely the proper story has been lost sight of. There should be no son of any description at the point at which this stanza comes in, and _auld_ son should everywhere be _young_ son. The best we can do, to make sense of stanza 3, is to put it after 8, with the understanding that woman and child are carried off for burial; though really there is no need to move them on that account. The shooting of the child is unintelligible in the mutilated state of the ballad. It is apparently meant to be an accident. Nothing of the kind occurs in other ballads of the class, and the divergence is probably a simple corruption.

The ballad which 'Leesome Brand' represents is preserved among the Scandinavian races under four forms.

#Danish.# I. 'Bolde Hr. Nilaus' Lön,' a single copy from a manuscript of the beginning of the 17th century: Grundtvig, V, 231, No 270. II. 'Redselille og Medelvold,' in an all but unexampled number of versions, of which some sixty are collated, and some twenty-five printed, by Grundtvig, most of them recently obtained from tradition, and the oldest a broadside of about the year 1770: Grundtvig, V, 234, No 271. III. 'Sönnens Sorg,' Grundtvig, V, 289, No 272, two versions only: #A# from the middle of the 16th century; #B# three hundred years later, previously printed in Berggreen's Danske Folkesange, I, No 83 (3d ed.). IV. 'Stalbroders Kvide,' Grundtvig, V, 301, No 273, two versions: #A# from the beginning of the 17th century, #B# from about 1570.

#Swedish.# II. #A#, broadside of 1776, reprinted in Grundtvig, No 271, V, 281, Bilag 1, and in Jamieson's Illustrations, p. 373 ff, with a translation. #B#, 'Herr Redevall,' Afzelius, II, 189, No 58, new ed. No 51. #C#, 'Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman,' Arwidsson, I, 352, No 54 A. #D#, #E#, #F#, #G#, from Cavallius and Stephens' manuscript collection, first printed by Grundtvig, No 271, V, 282 ff, Bilag 2-5. #H#, 'Rosa lilla,' Eva Wigström, Folkvisor från Skåne, in Ur de nordiska Folkens Lif, af Artur Hazelius, p. 133, No 8. III. A single version, of date about 1650, 'Moder och Son,' Arwidsson, II, 15, No 70.

#Norwegian.# II. Six versions and a fragment, from recent tradition: #A-E#, #G#, first printed by Grundtvig, No 271, V, 284 ff, Bilag 6-11; #F#, 'Grivilja,' in Lindeman's Norske Fjeldmelodier, No 121. III. Six versions from recent tradition, #A-F#, first printed by Grundtvig, No 272, V, 297 ff, Bilag I-6.

#Icelandic.# III. 'Sonar harmur,' Íslenzk Fornkvæði, I, 140 ff, No 17, 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:_

The elfin knight sat on the brae,
The broom grows bonny, the broom grows fair
And by there came lilting a lady so gay.
And we daurna gang down to the broom nae mair

17

HIND HORN

#A.# 'Hindhorn,' Motherwell's MS., p. 106.

#B.# 'Young Hyndhorn,' Motherwell's MS., p. 418.

#C. a.# 'Young Hyn Horn,' Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 42.
#b.# Motherwell's MS., p. 413.

#D.# 'Young Hynhorn,' Cromek's Select Scotish Songs, II,
204.

#E.# 'Hynd Horn,' Motherwell's MS., p. 91.

#F.# Lowran Castle, or the Wild Boar of Curridoo: with
other Tales. By R. Trotter, Dumfries, 1822.

#G.# 'Hynde Horn,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p.
135.

#H.# 'Hynd Horn,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 268.

A defective copy of this ballad was printed in Cromek's Select Scottish Songs, Ancient and Modern, 1810 (#D#). A fragment, comprising the first half of the story, was inserted in "Lowran Castle, or the Wild Boar of Curridoo: with other Tales," etc., by Robert Trotter, Dumfries, 1822[159] (#F#). A complete copy was first given in Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, 1827 (#G#); another, described by the editor as made up from Cromek's fragment and two copies from recitation, in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 36,[160] later in the same year; and a third, closely resembling Kinloch's, in Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, in 1828 (#H#). Three versions complete, or nearly so, and a fragment of a fourth are now printed for the first time, all from Motherwell's manuscripts (#A#, #B#, #C#, #E#).

The stanza about the auger bore [wimble bore], #B# 1, #F# 3, #H# 4, is manifestly out of place. It is found in 'The Whummil Bore' (see further on), and may have slipped into 'Hind Horn' by reason of its following, in its proper place, a stanza beginning, "Seven lang years I hae served the king:" cf. #F# 2, #H# 3.

#G# 17, 18, 21, 22, which are not intelligible in their present connection, are perhaps, as well as #G# 16, #H# 18-20, borrowed from some Robin Hood ballad, in which a change is made with a beggar.

The noteworthy points in the story of Hind Horn are these. Hind Horn has served the king seven years (#D#, #F#), and has fallen in love with his daughter. She gives Hind Horn a jewelled ring: as long as the stone keeps its color, he may know that she is faithful; but if it changes hue, he may ken she loves another man. The king is angry (#D#), and Hind Horn goes to sea [is sent, #D#]. He has been gone seven years, #E#, #F# [seven years and a day, #B#], when, looking on his ring, he sees that the stone is pale and wan, #A-H#. He makes for the land at once, and, meeting an old beggar, asks him for news. No news but the king's daughter's wedding: it has lasted nine days [two and forty, #A#], and she will not go into the bride-bed till she hears of Hind Horn, #E#. Hind Horn changed cloaks and other gear with the beggar, and when he came to the king's gate asked for a drink in Horn's name,[161] #A#, #B#, #D#. The bride herself came down, and gave him a drink out of her own hand, #A#, #B#, #C#, #G#, #H#. He drank out the drink and dropped in the ring.

'O gat ye 't by sea, or gat ye 't by lan,
Or gat ye 't aff a dead man's han?'

So she asked; and he answered:

'I gat na 't by sea, I gat na 't by lan,
But I gat it out of your own han.' #D# 14.

'I got na 't by sea, I got na 't by land,
Nor got I it aff a drownd man's hand;

'But I got it at my wooing,
And I'll gie it at your wedding.' #G# 29, 30.

The bride, who had said,

'I'll go through nine fires so hot,
But I'll give him a drink for Young Hynhorn's sake,' #B# 16,

is no less ready now:

'I'll tak the red gowd frae my head,
And follow you and beg my bread.

'I'll tak the red gowd frae my hair,
And follow you for evermair.' #H# 31, 32.

But Hind Horn let his cloutie cloak fall, #G#, #H#, and told her,

'Ye need na leave your bridal gown,
For I'll make ye ladie o many a town.'

The story of Horn, of which this ballad gives little more than the catastrophe, is related at full in

I. 'King Horn,' a _gest_ in about 1550 short verses, preserved in three manuscripts: the oldest regarded as of the second half of the 13th century, or older; the others put at 1300 and a little later. All three have been printed: (1.) By Michel, Horn et Rimenhild, p. 259 ff, Bannatyne Club, 1845; J. R. Lumby, Early English Text Society, 1866; and in editions founded on Lumby's text, by Mätzner, Altenglische Sprachproben, p. 270 ff, and later by Wissmann, Quellen u. Forschungen, No 45. (2.) By Horstmann, Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen, 1872, L, 39 ff. (3.) By Ritson, A.E. Metrical Romanceës, II, 91 ff.

II. 'Horn et Rymenhild,' a romance in about 5250 heroic verses, preserved likewise in three manuscripts; the best in the Public Library of the University of Cambridge, and of the 14th century.

III. 'Horn Childe and Maiden Rimnild,' from a manuscript of the 14th century, in not quite 100 twelve-line stanzas: Ritson, Metrical Romanceës, III, 282 ff; Michel, p. 341 ff.

Horn, in the old English _gest_, is son of Murry [Allof], king of Suddenne. He is a youth of extraordinary beauty, and has twelve comrades, of whom Athulf and Fikenild are his favorites. One day, as Murry was out riding, he came upon fifteen ships of Saracens, just arrived. The pagans slew the king, and insured themselves, as they thought, against Horn's future revenge by putting him and his twelve aboard a vessel without sail or rudder; but "the children" drove to shore, unhurt, on the coast of Westerness. The king, Ailmar, gave them a kind reception, and committed them to Athelbrus, his steward, to be properly brought up. Rymenhild, the king's daughter, fell in love with Horn, and having, with some difficulty, prevailed upon Athelbrus to bring him to her bower, offered herself to him as his wife. It were no fair wedding, Horn told her, between a thrall and a king,--a speech which hurt Rymenhild greatly; and Horn was so moved by her grief that he promised to do all she required, if she would induce the king to knight him. This was done the next day, and Horn at once knighted all his comrades. Rymenhild again sent for Horn, and urged him now to make her his wife. But Horn said he must first prove his knighthood: if he came back alive, he would then marry her. Upon this Rymenhild gave him a ring, set with stones of such virtue that he could never be slain if he looked on it and thought of his leman. The young knight had the good fortune to fall in immediately with a ship full of heathen hounds, and by the aid of his ring killed a hundred of the best of them. The next day he paid Rymenhild a visit, and found her drowned in grief on account of a bad dream. She had cast her net in the sea, and a great fish had broken it: she weened she should lose the fish that she would choose. Horn strove to comfort her, but could not conceal his apprehension that trouble was brewing. The fish proved to be Fikenild, Horn's much cherished friend. He told Ailmar of the intimacy with Rymenhild, and asserted that Horn meant to kill the king as well as marry the princess. Ailmar was very angry (v. 724, Wissmann), and much grieved, too. He found the youth in his daughter's bower, and ordered him to quit the land anon. Horn saddled his horse and armed himself, then went back to Rymenhild, and told her that he was going to a strange land for seven years: if, after that, he neither came nor sent word, she might take a husband. He sailed a good way eastward (v. 799) to Ireland, and, landing, met two princes, who invited him to take service with their father. The king, Thurston, welcomed him, and had soon occasion to employ him; for at Christmas came into court a giant, with a message from pagans newly arrived. They proposed that one of them should fight three Christians: