Chapter XXVII: Appendix (4)

2
He had not in fair England been
A month 'twas barely ane,
When the fairest lady o the court
To Johnie wi child is gane.

3
Word is to the kitchen gane,
And word's gane to the ha;
Word's gane to the high, high rooms,
Among the nobles a'.

4
And word o't to the king is gane,
In the chamber where he sat,
His only daughter goes wi child
To Johnie, the Little Scot.

5
'O if she be wi child,' he says,
'As I trow weel she be,
I'll lock her up in strong prison,
And punish her till she dee.'

6
Then she has wrote a long letter,
And seald it without a blot,
And she has sent it to fair Scotland,
To Johnie, the Little Scot.

7
The first line that he did read,
In laughter loud was he;
But or he gat the hindmost read
The tear blindit his ee.

8
'Get ready for me the black, black steed,
Get ready for me the brown,
And saddle to me the swiftest horse
Eer carried man to town.'

9
Whan he cam to Edinburgh town,
He made the bells to ring,
And when he cam to merry Carlisle,
He made the monks to sing.

10
When he cam to the king's gates,
He made his drums beat round;
The king bot and his nobles a'
They wonderd at the sound.

11
'Is this [the] King of France,' he cried,
'Or is't the King of Spain?
Or is it Johnie, the Little Scot,
That's wanting to be slain?'

12
'It's neither the King of France,' he said,
'Nor is't the King of Spain;
But it is Johnie, the Little Scot,
That's come to claim his ain.'

* * * * * * *

13
They foucht it ance, they foucht it twice,
They foucht it oure again,
Till draps o blood, like draps o rain,
War rinning to the plain.

14
Then Johnie drew a nut-brown brand,
And strook it oure the plain,
Saying, Are there onie mae o your Englishmen
That's wanting to be slain?

15
'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried,
'To sign her tocher-fee;'
'A priest, a priest,' then Johnie cried,
'To marry my love and me.

16
'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' he says,
'As little o your gear;
But I'll hae her, my ain true-love,
For I'm sure I've coft her dear.'

L

Campbell MSS, I, 57.

1
Johnnie Scott's a hunting gane,
To England's woods sae wild;
The fairest flower of all England
To Johnnie provd big with child.

2
It's word's going up, and word's going down,
Going to the king's bower,
That his dear daughter was with child,
That was his daily flower.

3
'If she be with child,
As I suppose she be,
I'll put her into prison strong,
And hunger her till she die.'

4
The king he wrote a letter broad,
And sealed it with his hands,
And sent it down to Johnnie Scott,
In Scotland where he stands.

5
The first line that Johnnie lookd on,
A merry man was he;
The next line that he lookd on,
The salt tears blinded his eye.

6
Out then spoke his old father,
Who neer spoke out of time:
And if you go to England, son,
I doubt your coming home.

7
Out then spoke our Scottish James,
Sitting low by Johnnie's knee:
Fifteen score of my life-guards
Shall ride in your company.

8
When Johnnie came to the king's court
He rode it round about,
And there he spied his own true-love,
From the jail-window looking out.

9
'Come down, true-love,' said Johnnie Scott,
'And now you'll ride behind me;
Before I leave fair England
Some life shall die for thee.'

10
'My feet are in the fetters strong,
I'm belted round about;
My breastplate is of the stubborn steel,
Instead of beaten gold.'

11
When Johnnie came to the king's bower
He tinkled at the ring;
Who was so ready as the king himself
To let proud Johnnie in!

12
'Are ye the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,
'Or James, our Scottish king?
Or are you my bastard son,
From Scotland new come home?'

13
'I'm not the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,
'Nor James, our Scottish king;
But I am just a good Scotch lad,
And Johnnie Scott's my name.'

14
'If you be Johnnie Scott,' says he,
'As I suppose you be,
The fairest flower in all England
Is big with child by thee.'

15
'If she be big with child,' said he,
'As I hope her to be,
I'll make it heir of all my lands,
And she my gay lady.'

16
'O no,' then the king he crys,
'There's no such thing will be;
There is an Italian in my court,
And by his hands ye'll die.'

17
'I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,
'I'll stand it till I die;
I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,
'One foot I'd scorn to fly.'

18
When the Italian was brought out,
A fearsome sight was he;
Between his brows three women's spang,
His shoulders was yards three.

19
As Johnnie, being a crafty lad,
Well tried at the sword was he,
Upon the point of his broad sword
He made the Italian die.

M

Campbell MSS, II, 335.

1
Lord Johnnie's up to England gane,
Three quarters of an year;
Lord Johnnie's up to England gone,
The king's banner to bear.

2
He had not been in fair England,
Three quarters he was not,
Till the king's eldest daughter
Goes with child to Lord Johnnie Scott.

3
Word has to the kitchen gone,
And word's gone to the hall,
And word's gone to the high, high room,
Among the nobles all.

4
And word has gaen to the king himsel,
In his chamber where he sat,
That his eldest daughter goes wi child
To good Lord Johnnie Scott.

5
'Gin that be true,' the king replied,
'As I suppose it be,
I'll put her in a prison strong,
And starve her till she die.'

* * * * * * *

6
'O where will I get a little page,
That will win baith hose and shoon,
And run into fair Scotland,
And tell my love to come?'

* * * * * * *

7
'What news, what news, my little page?
What news hae ye brought to me?'
'Bad news, bad news, my master dear,
The king's daughter maun die.

8
'Here is a shirt, O master dear,
Her ain hand sewd the sleeve;
She bad me run and tell ye this,
And ask nae person's leave.

9
'They have her in a prison strong,
And in a dungeon deep;
Her feet are in the fetters strong,
And they've left her to weep.

10
'Her feet are in the cold, cold iron,
Instead of beaten gold;
Her garters are of the cauld, cauld iron,
And O but they are cold!'

* * * * * * *

11
'A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry,
'To cry the toucher-fee;'
'A priest, a priest,' Lord Johnnie cry'd,
'To join my love and me.

12
'I want none of your gold,' he said,
'Nor as little want I a fee;
But I do want your daughter dear,
My wedded wife to be.'

N

Buchan's Gleanings, p. 122.

1
Lord John he's on to England gone,
To England gone is he;
Love John he's on to England gone,
The king's banneret to be.

2
He hadna been in fair England
O but a little while,
Till faen in love wi the king's daughter,
And to him she's with chile.

3
Now word is to the kitchen gane,
And word is to the ha,
And word is to the king's high court,
And that was warst of a'.

4
Out then spake the king himsell,
An angry man was he:
I'll put her into prison strong,
And starve her till she die.

5
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,
I wat he's on wi speed;
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,
And as good was his need.

6
He hadna been in fair Scotland
But a very short tide,
Till he minded on the damsel
That lay last by his side.

7
'Whare will I get a bonny boy,
Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to me?'

8
'O here am I, a bonny boy,
Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to thee.'

9
'Where ye find the grass grow green,
Ye'll slack your shoes and rin;
And when ye find the brigs broken,
Ye'll bend your bow and swim.

10
'And when ye come to the king's high court,
Ye'll rin it round about,
And there ye'll see a lady gay,
At a window looking out.

11
'Bid her take this shirt of silk,
Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
At her parents spier nae leave.

12
'Bid her take this shirt of silk,
Her ain hand sewed the gair;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits her there.'

13
Where he found the grass grow green,
He slackd his shoes and ran;
Where he fan the brigs broken,
He bent his bow and swam.

14
When he came to the king's high court,
He ran it round about;
And there he saw the lady gay,
At the window looking out.

15
'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,
Yere ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
At your parents spier nae leave.

16
'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,
Yere ain hand sewed the gair;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits you there.'

17
'My feet are in the fetters strong,
Instead of silken sheen;
My breast-plate's of the cold iron,
Instead of gold so fine.

18
'But I will write a broad letter,
And seal it with my hand,
And send it off to my Love Johnny,
And let him understand.'

19
The first line that he looked on,
A loud laughter laught he;
But ere he read it to the end,
The tear blinded his ee.

20
'O I will on to fair England,
Whatever me betide,
For to relieve the damsel
That lay last by my side.'

21
Out it spake his father dear,
A noble lord was he:
If ye gang to England, Johnny,
Ye'll neer come back to me.

22
Out it spake a noble lord,
A noble lord, I wat, was he:
Fifteen of our Scottish lords
Will bear his honour companie.

23
The first town that they eer came till,
They gart the bells be rung;
The next town that they came till,
They gart the mass be sung.

24
And when they came to the king's court,
They gart the trumpet soun,
Till the king and all his merry young men
Did marvel at the tune.

25
'Is this the Duke of Marlborough,
Or James, the Scottish king?
Or is it else some Scottish lord,
Come here a visiting?'

26
'It's not the Duke of Marlborough,
Nor James, the Scottish king:
It is Love John of fair Scotland,
Come here a visiting.'

27
'If this be John of fair Scotland,
He's dearly welcome to me;
The morn ere he eat or drink,
High hanged he shall be.'

28
He's taen his broadsword in his hand,
And stripd it oer a stane;
Then thro and thro the king's high court
With broadsword now is gane.

29
They fought it up, they fought it down,
Till they were weary men,
When the blood, like drops of rain,
Came trickling down the plain.

30
Out it spake the king himsel,
Ane angry man was he:
I have ane Italian within my court
Will fight ye three and three.

31
Out it came that ae Italian,
As pale as death was he,
And on the point of Johnny's sword
That ae Italian did die.

32
'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried,
'And seal her tocher wi;'
'A priest, a priest,' Lord John he cried,
'That we may married be.

33
'For I want neither gold,' he said,
'Nor do I want your gear;
But I do want my ain true-love,
For I have bought her dear.'

O

Communicated by Mr William Macmath, of Edinburgh, from
his aunt, Miss Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of Kells,
now (December, 1882) of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire, who
learned it from the late Miss Jane Hannay, Newton Stewart.

* * * * * * *

1
Out then spak his auld faither,
And a blythe auld man was he,
Saying, I'll send five hunner o my brisk young men,
To bear Johnie companie.

2
And when they were on saddle set,
They were a pleasant sight for to see,
For there was na ae married man
In a' Johnie's companie.

3
And when they were on saddle set,
They were a pleasant sight to behold,
For the hair that hung down Johnie's back
Was like the links of gold.

4
And when they came to Newcastle,
They reined their horses about;
Wha did he see but his ain Jeanie,
At a window looking out!

5
'Come doun, come doun, Jeanie,' he says,
'Come doun, come doun to me;'
'I canna come doun, Johnie,' she says,
'For King Edward has bolted me.

6
'My stockings are o the heavy iron,
I feel them very cold;
And my breast-plate's o the sturdy steel,
Instead of beaten gold.'

* * * * * * *

7
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'I'll make it heir o a' my lands,
And her my gay lady.'

8
'There is an Italian in this court;
This day he has slain knights three;
And before tomorrow at eight o'clock
The Italian will slay thee.'

P

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 11.

1
Johnie's up to England gone,
Three quarters of a year;
Johnie's up to England gone,
The king's banner to bear.

2
He hadna been in fair England
A month but only three,
The king he had but one dochter,
And she fell in love with he.

3
And word is up, and word is down,
And word is to the ha,
And word is to the king's court gane,
Amang the nobles a'.

4
Now word is to the king himsell,
On throne where he did sit,
That his ae dochter goes wi child
To John that little Scot.

* * * * *

#A.#

_Written in stanzas of two long lines in the Jamieson MS._

4^2, 27^2. MS. will?

8^3. I wist.

15^3. plates.

_The first stanza is given thus by Anderson in Nichols's
Illustrations:_

Johnie was as brave a knight
As ever sailed the sea,
And he is to the English court,
To serve for meat and fee.

_The Abbotsford copy omits stanzas 4, 9, 34. Most of
the many changes are, beyond doubt, arbitrary, but
the following are more or less countenanced by other
versions._

1^{3, 4}.
And he is up to fair England,
The king's braid banner to bear.

_Cf._ #B#, #E#, #I#, #K#, #M#, #N#, #P#.

19^4. That should have been my bride. _Cf._ #B# 10.

30.
Out then cam that Italian knight,
A grisly sight to see;
Between his een there was a span,
Between his shoulders three and three.

And forth then came brave John the Scot,
He scarcely reachd his knee;
Yet on the point of Johny's brand
The Italian knight did die.

_Cf._ #L# 18.

#B.#

_Written in stanzas of two lines._

16^3. And there.

#C.#

3^2. forgid.

14^3. plates.

16^4. be thy.

23^3. Johnie slain.

24^4. Johnie's dread.

26^4. free _changed in MS. to_ fee. _Cf._ #A# 33^2, #D#
27^4, #E# 22^4, #H# 29^2; fee, #I# 23^2, #K# 15^2, #M#
11^2.

#D. a.#

_The last two lines of each stanza are repeated in
singing._

8^4. _Originally_ to thee.

25^2. dead _changed to_ deid.

#b.#

_Title_, Lord Johnnie Scot.

_The variations are generally written above the readings
of #a#, or otherwise distinctly indicated._

1^1. It's Johnnie.

1^3. And who.

3^3. It's thou.

3^4. gay ladie.

4^1. rode till her father's gate.

5^1. It's he.

6^1. to the green woods.

6^2. To Johnnie Scot thy luve.

6^4. the sleeve.

7^1. to the green woods.

10^3. ladie gay.

11^1. out then... father dear.

11^2. spoke out.

11^3. If thou unto.

11^4. doubt thy.

12^1. Out then spoke our.

12^2. And he spoke manfullie.

13, 14. _These stanzas are often transposed._

13^4. the yellow gold.

14^2. Most pleasant for to.

18^1. I'm not.

18^2. James your.

18^3. But I'm.

20^1. he said.

21^1. he said.

22^1. Out then spoke our.

23^4. the day.

24^1. all did flock.

24^2. In coaches all amain.

24^3. all did flock.

25^4. oer his head.

26^3. on the point.

_The reciter_ had heard another ballad which detailed the
same events, and but little differing in any respect,
which went under the name of 'M^cNaughton's Valour,' or,
'Naughton's Valour.'

#E.#

13^4. _Originally_ now come, _altered to_ new come.

17^2. _Var._ And a well spoke boy was he.

18^3. _Var._ champion.

19^3. _Originally written_ Likewise the queen and her
maidens fair.

20^4. trinkling down? _Motherwell._

25^4. _Var._ M^cNaughton and his men! "M^cNaughtoun's
cure to ye!" is Devil relieve ye! _Motherwell._

#F.#

3^1, 4^1. Oh.

#G.#

8^2. the rade.

8^3. Theyre.

_The second copy has these few differences, attributable
to Motherwell:_

1^2. England's.

2^1, 3^1. said.

7^4. bear him.

23^1. set unto.

23^2. schill.

23^3. Scotland gone.

#H.#

8^4. Johny I'll

19^2. They drums.

20^1. muberry.

26^3. Johny.

27^3. But but.

26, 27 _should, perhaps, be transposed; but compare_ #N#
29-31.

#I.#

2^2. _Kinloch corrects_ day _to_ while.

_After 3._ A verse a-wanting. It is about the king
putting his daughter in prison.

#K.#

14^2. shook: _cf._ #A# 32^2.

#L.#

3^4. dies (?).

17^3. say.

#P.#

2^4. _Var._ goes with child to: _perhaps a change of
Motherwell's_.

[164] Pointed out to Motherwell by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

[165] "Les Aubrays est le nom d'une seigneurie du pays de Retz, apportée en mariage, en 1455, à Rolland de Lannion, par Guyonne de Grezy, dame des Aubrays. La ballade ne peut pas, par conséquent, être antérieure à cette époque, et nous la croyons bien plus moderne." M. Pol de Courcy, Luzel, I, 306. The ballad can be no older, unless the Seigneur Les Aubrays has displaced an earlier hero; but what means have we of deciding that question?

100

WILLIE O WINSBURY

#A.# 'Willie o Winsbury,' Campbell MSS, II, 38.

#B.# Herd's MSS, I, 29; II, 98.

#C.# 'Lord Thomas of Winsbury,' Kinloch MSS, I, 315.

#D.# Percy Papers, communicated by the Rev. P. Parsons,
about 1775.

#E.# 'Johnnie Barbour,' Notes and Queries, Fifth Series,
VII, 387.

#F.# 'Willie of Winsberye,' Motherwell's MS., p. 404.

#G.# 'Lord Thomas o Winsbury,' Buchan's MSS, II, 174;
'Lord Thomas of Winesberry and the King's Daughter,'
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 212.

#H.# 'Lord Thomas of Winesberrie,' Kinloch's Ancient
Scottish Ballads, p. 92.

#I.# 'Lord Thomas of Winsberry,' #a#, #b#, stall copies;
#c#, Buchan's Gleanings, p. 127.

The main points of the story of this ballad are the same in all the copies. The king of Scotland, #C#, #F#, of France, #H#, #I#, has been away from home a considerable time, in Spain, #A#, #C#, #F#, #G#, a prisoner, #A#, #F#, a-hunting, #C#, #H#, #I#, and during his absence his daughter has become with child by William or Thomas of Winsbury. The father threatens to hang the young man, but on seeing him is so struck with his beauty that he exonerates his daughter, and offers her in marriage to her lover, with a large dowry. Winsbury accepts the lady, but declines gold and land, having enough of his own. In #H# he says he shall be king when he goes back to Scotland; in the other copies he appears to be only a man of very good estate.

From the hero turning out to be a royal person from Scotland, in #H#, Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 89, is led to imagine that the ballad may relate to James V of Scotland, who married a daughter of Francis I. His reasons are, first, that James _disguised himself_ when he went to inspect the Duke of Vendôme's daughter (to whom he was in a way betrothed), so as not to be known to her or to her parents. Secondly, that when James, not fancying this lady, passed on, it was at a _hunting_-party that he met the French princess, who became so enamored of him that she would have no other husband. That the poor princess had long been sick, and "was not able to travel out of the realm to no other countrie" (on a milk-white steed, #C# 13), and that she died about six months after her marriage, does not come into the ballad.[166] Buchan thinks Winsbury's rank to be fixed by his version, #G#, as that of a chamberlain, and therefore cannot admit the plausibility of a disguised James V.

The two English copies, #D#, #E#, both imperfect, change the hero's name to Johnnie Barbary ('lately come from Spain,' cf. #B# 5) or Johnnie Barbour. Motherwell, in a manuscript annotation to Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, mentions that he had obtained from recitation a copy in which the name was Sweet Willie of Salisbury. The change from a king to a lady neat and trim in #D# 1 is a corruption that one would have hardly looked for "from the spinning-wheel."

The stanza which notes the reluctance of the young man to come at call, #C# 9, #D# 6, #F# 12, occurs in all copies of 'The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter.'

A

Campbell MSS, II, 38.

1
The king he hath been a prisoner,
A prisoner lang in Spain, O
And Willie o the Winsbury
Has lain lang wi his daughter at hame. O

2
'What aileth thee, my daughter Janet,
Ye look so pale and wan?
Have ye had any sore sickness,
Or have ye been lying wi a man?
Or is it for me, your father dear,
And biding sae lang in Spain?'

3
'I have not had any sore sickness,
Nor yet been lying wi a man;
But it is for you, my father dear,
In biding sae lang in Spain.'

4
'Cast ye off your berry-brown gown,
Stand straight upon the stone,
That I may ken ye by yere shape,
Whether ye be a maiden or none.'

5
She's coosten off her berry-brown gown,
Stooden straight upo yon stone;
Her apron was short, and her haunches were round,
Her face it was pale and wan.

6
'Is it to a man o might, Janet?
Or is it to a man of fame?
Or is it to any of the rank robbers
That's lately come out o Spain?'

7
'It is not to a man of might,' she said,
'Nor is it to a man of fame;
But it is to William of Winsburry;
I could lye nae langer my lane.'

8
The king's called on his merry men all,
By thirty and by three:
'Go fetch me William of Winsburry,
For hanged he shall be.'

9
But when he cam the king before,
He was clad o the red silk;
His hair was like to threeds o gold,
And his skin was as white as milk.

10
'It is nae wonder,' said the king,
'That my daughter's love ye did win;
Had I been a woman, as I am a man,
My bedfellow ye should hae been.

11
'Will ye marry my daughter Janet,
By the truth of thy right hand?
I'll gie ye gold, I'll gie ye money,
And I'll gie ye an earldom o land.'

12
'Yes, I'll marry yere daughter Janet,
By the truth of my right hand;
But I'll hae nane o yer gold, I'll hae nane o yer money,
Nor I winna hae an earldom o land.

13
'For I hae eighteen corn-mills,
Runs all in water clear,
And there's as much corn in each o them
As they can grind in a year.'

B

Herd's MSS, I, 29; II, 98.

* * * * * * *

1
'What aileth ye, my dochter Dysmill,
Ye look sae pale and wan?
Hae ye had ony sair sickness,
Or ill luve wi a man?

2
'Cast aff, cast aff your bony brown goun,
And lay't down on the stane,
And I sall tell ye ay or no
Ye hae layn wi a man.'

3
She has taen aff her bony brown gown,
She has laid it on the stane;
Her waist was big, her side was round,
Her fair colour was gane.

4
'Now is it to a man of micht,
Or to a man of mean?
Or is it to the ranke robber
That robs upon the main?'

5
'O it's nor to a man of micht,
Nor to a man of mean;
But it's to Willie Winchberrie,
That came frae France and Spain.'

6
The king he's turnd him round about,
An angry man was he:
'Gar bring to me your fals leman,
Wha sall high hanged be.'

7
Then Dysmill turnd her round about,
The tear blinded her ee:
'Gin ye begin to hang, father,
Ye maun begin wi mee.'

8
When Willie he cam to the king,
His coat was o the silk;
His hair was like the thread o gowd,
His skin white as the milk.

9
'Ne wonder, ne wonder,' quoth the king,
'My dochter shoud like ye;
Gin ye were a woman, as ye're a man,
My bedfellow ye sould be.

10
'Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill,
By the truth o your right hand?
Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill,
And be a lord o the land?'

C

Kinloch MSS, I, 315.

1
The king has been long seven years away,
Long seven years away frae hame;
Our king has been long seven years away,
A hunting oer in Spain.

* * * * * * *

2
'What aileth thee, my ae daughter,
Thou lookst so pale and wan?
Hast thou had any sore sickness,
Or hast thou loved man?'

3
'I have not had any sore sickness,
To make me look sae wan;
But it is for your own majestie,
You staid sae lang in Spain.'

4
'Cast aff, cast aff thy silken gown,
And lay it on yon stane,
And I'll tell to thee if with child you be,
Or if ye be with nane.'

5
She's casten aff her costly gown,
That's made o the silk sae fine;
Her stays were sae strait she could na loot,
And her fair colour was wan.

6
'Oh is it to any mighty man?
Or any lord of fame?
Or is it to the rank robbers
That I sent out o Spain?'

7
'It is no to the rank robbers
That you sent out o Spain;
But it is to Thomas of Winsbury,
For I dought na lie my lane.'

8
'If it be to Lord Thomas,' he says,
'It's hanged shall he be:'
'If you hang Thomas of Winsbury,
You'll get na mair gude o me.'

9
The king's called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, and three;
Lord Thomas should hae been the foremost man,
But the hindmost man was he.

10
'No wonder, no wonder,' the king he said,
'My daughter loved thee;
For wert thou a woman, as thou art a man,
My bedfellow thou shouldst be.

11
'O will you marry my daughter dear,
By the faith of thy right hand?
And thou shalt reign, when I am dead,
The king over my whole land.'

12
'I will marry your daughter dear,
With my heart, yea and my hand;
But it never shall be that Lord Winsbury
Shall rule oer fair Scotland.'

13
He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on a dapple-grey,
And made her a lady of as much land
She could ride in a whole summer day.

D

Communicated to Percy by the Rev. P. Parsons, of Wey,
apparently in 1775. "This I had from the spinning-wheel."

1
There was a lady fine and gay,
She was so neat and trim;
She went unto her own garden-wall,
To see her own ships come in.

2
And there she spied her daughter Jane,
Who lookd so pale and wan:
'What, have you had some long sickness,
Or lain with some young man?'

3
'No, I have had no long sickness,
Nor lain with no young man:'
Her petticoats they were so short,
She was full nine months gone.

4
'Oh is it by some nobleman?
Or by some man of fame?
Or is it by Johnny Barbary,
That's lately come from Spain?'

5
'No, it is by no nobleman,
Nor by no man of fame;
But it is by Johnny Barbary,
That's lately come from Spain.'

6
Then she calld down her merry men,
By one, by two, by three;
Johnny Barbary used to be the first,
But now the last came he.

7
'Oh will you take my daughter Jane,
And wed her out of hand?
And you shall dine and sup with me,
And be heir of my land.'

8
'Yes, I will take your daughter Jane,
And wed her out of hand;
And I will dine and sup with you,
But I do not want your land.'

9
Then she calld down her merry men,
With a shrill and a pleasant voice:
'Come, let us all now mery be,
Since she has made such a happy choice.'

E

Notes and Queries, Fifth Series, VII, 387, 1877:
communicated by B. Montgomerie Ranking, as "heard sung
years ago by a West Country fisherman."

* * * * * * *

1
'Oh daughter, oh daughter,' her father he said,
'What makes you look so pale?
. . . . . . .
Or are you in love with any man?'

2
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'But if it be one of my own sailor lads,
High hanged he shall be.'

3
Johnnie Barbour he cam doun the stair,
His shirt was of the silk;
His two bonnie black een were rolling in his head,
And his skin was as white as milk.

4
'Oh are you ready to marry my daughter,
And take her by the hand,
And to eat and drink with me at the table,
And be heir of all my land?'

5
'Oh it's I am ready to marry your daughter,
And take her by the hand,
And to eat and drink with her at the table,
And to fight for all your land.'

F

Motherwell's MS., p. 404; from the recitation of Agnes
Laird, of Kilbarchan, August 24, 1825.

1
Our king hath been a poor prisoner,
And a poor prisoner in Spain; O
When seven long years was past and gone,
Our Scotish king came hame. O

2
As he was riding along the way,
He met with his dear dochter:
'What ails thee, what ails thee, my dochter dear,
Thou looks so pale and wan?

3
'Have ye had any sore sickness,
Or have ye lovd a man?
Or is it for me, my dochter dear,
I have been so long in Spain?'

4
'I have had no sore sickness,
Nor yet have I loved a man;
But it is for you, my father dear,
Thou've been so long in Spain.'

5
'Cast aff, cast aff thy brown silk gown,
And spread it on yonder stone,
And I will tell you by and by
Whether thou art a maid or none.'

6
She's coosten off her brown silk gown,
And spread it on yonder stone,
And her belly was big, and her face pale and wan,
And she was about half gone.

7
'Is it to a man o micht?
Or to a man of fame?
Or is it to one of the rank rebels
That I sent out of Spain?'

8
'It is not to a man of micht,
Nor to a man of fame,
Nor yet to one of the rank rebels
That ye sent out o Spain;
But it is to Willie o Winsberry,
Thy very own serving-man.'

9
'If it be to Willie o Winsberry,
As I trew well it be,
Gin the morn at ten o the clock
It's hanged shall he be.'

10
As the king was riding up the gate
He met Willie clothed in scarlet red,
And his hair was as yellow as the beam, beam gold,
And his breast as white as milk.

11
'No wonder, no wonder,' quo the king,
'My dochter luvit thee;
For if thou was a woman, as thou'rt a man,
My bedfellow thou should be.'

12
The king called down his merry men all,
By one, by two, and by three;
Sweet Willie should ha been the foremost man,
But the hindmost man drew he.

13
'Will you take my dochter Jean,
By the faith of her richt hand?
And you shall sup and dine with me,
And heir the third part of my land.'

14
'I will take your dochter Jean,
By the faith of her richt hand,
And I will sup and dine with you,
But a fig for all your land;
For I've as much land in Winsberry
As we'll ride in a long summer's day.'

G

Buchan's MSS, II, 174; Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 212.

1
Seven years the king he staid
Into the land of Spain,
And seven years True Thomas was
His daughter's chamberlain.

2
But it fell ance upon a day
The king he did come home;
She baked and she benjed ben,
And did him there welcome.

3
'What aileth you, my daughter Janet,
You look sae pale and wan?
There is a dreder in your heart,
Or else you love a man.'

4
'There is no dreder in my heart,
Nor do I love a man;
But it is for your lang byding
Into the land of Spain.'

5
'Ye'll cast aff your bonny brown gown,
And lay it on a stone,
And I'll tell you, my jelly Janet,
If ever ye lovd a man.'

6
She's cast aff her bonny brown gown,
And laid it on a stone;
Her belly was big, her twa sides high,
Her colour it was quite gane.

7
'Is it to a man o the might, Janet,
Or is it till a man o the main?
Or is it to one o my poor soldiers,
That I brought hame frae Spain?'

8
'It's not till a man o the might,' she says,
'Nor yet to a man o the main;
But it's to Thomas o Winsbury,
That cannot longer len.'

9
'O where are all my wall-wight men,
That I pay meat and fee,
That will go for him True Thomas,
And bring him in to me?
For the morn, ere I eat or drink,
High hanged shall he be.'

10
She's turnd her right and round about,
The tear blinded her ee:
'If ye do any ill to True Thomas,
Ye's never get gude o me.'

11
When Thomas came before the king
He glanced like the fire;
His hair was like the threads o gold,
His eyes like crystal clear.

12
'It was nae wonder, my daughter Janet,
Altho ye loved this man;
If he were a woman, as he is a man,
My bed-fellow he would been.

13
'O will ye marry my daughter Janet?
The truth's in your right hand;
Ye's hae some o my gold, and some o my gear,
And the twalt part o my land.'

14
'It's I will marry your daughter Janet;
The truth's in my right hand;
I'll hae nane o your gold, nor nane o your gear,
I've enough in my own land.

15
'But I will marry your daughter Janet
With thirty ploughs and three,
And four and twenty bonny breast-mills,
And a' on the water o Dee.'

H

Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, p. 92.

1
It fell upon a time, when the proud king of France
Went a hunting for five months and more,
That his dochter fell in love with Thomas of Winesberrie,
From Scotland newly come oer.

2
Whan her father cam hame frae hunting the deer,
And his dochter before him cam,
Her belly it was big, and her twa sides round,
And her fair colour was wan.

3
'What ails thee, what ails thee, my dochter Janet?
What maks thee to look sae wan?
Ye've either been sick, and very, very sick,
Or else ye hae lain wi a man.'

4
'Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, dear father,' she says,
'Ye're welcome hame to your ain,
For I hae been sick, and very, very sick,
Thinking lang for your coming hame.

5
'O pardon, O pardon, dear father,' she says,
'A pardon ye'll grant me:'
'Na pardon, na pardon, my dochter,' he says,
'Na pardon I'll grant thee.

6
'O is it to a man of micht,
Or to a man of mean?
Or is it to onie of thae rank robbers
That I sent hame frae Spain?'

7
'It is not to a man of micht,
Nor to a man of mean;
But it is to Thomas o Winesberrie,
And for him I suffer pain.'

8
'If it be to Thomas o' Winesberrie,
As I trust well it be,
Before I either eat or drink,
Hie hangit sall he be.'

9
When this bonnie boy was brought afore the king,
His claithing was o the silk,
His fine yellow hair hang dangling doun,
And his skin was like the milk.

10
'Na wonder, na wonder, Lord Thomas,' he says,
'My dochter fell in love wi thee,
For if I war a woman, as I am a man,
My bed-fellow ye shoud be.

11
'Then will ye marry my dochter Janet,
To be heir to a' my land?
O will ye marry my dochter Janet,
Wi the truth o your richt hand?'

12
'I will marry your dochter Janet,
Wi the truth o my richt hand;
I'll hae nane o your gowd, nor yet o your gear,
I've eneuch in fair Scotland.

13
'But I will marry your dochter Janet,
I care na for your land,
For she's be a queen, and I a king,
Whan we come to fair Scotland.'

I

#a.# A stall copy printed by M. Randall, Stirling, #b.#
A stall copy by C. Randall, Stirling. #c.# Buchan's
Gleanings, p. 127.

1
It fell upon a time that the proud king of France
Went a hunting for five months and more;
His daughter fell in love with Lord Winsberry,
Who from Scotland was newly come oer.

2
'You're welcome, welcome, dear father,' she said,
'You're welcome again to your own;
For I have been sick, and very, very sick,
Thinking long for your coming home.'

3
'Put off, put off your gown of green,' he says,
'And spread it on yonder green,
And tell them from me that in mourning you are,
Or that ye have lain with a man.'

4
She's put off her gown of green,
And spread it on the strand;
Her haunches were round, and her belly was big,
From her face the colour is gone.

5
'O is it to a man of might,' he says,
'Or is it to a man that's mean?
Or is it to one of those rank rebels,
That lately from Scotland came?'

6
'O it is to a man of might,' she says,
'It is not to one that is mean;
It is to Lord Thomas of Winsberry,
And for him I must suffer pain.'

7
The king called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, and by three:
'Go fetch me Lord Thomas of Winsberry,
For tomorrow he shall die.'

8
They sought him up, they sought him down,
As fast as fast could be;
There they found Lord Thomas of Winsberry,
Sitting under an orange tree.

9
'Get up, get up, Lord Thomas,' they said,
'Get up, and bound your way;
For the king has sworn by his honoured crown
That tomorrow is thy dying-day.'

10
'O what have I robbd, or what have I stolen,
Or what have I killed or slain,
That I should be afraid to speak to your king?
For I have done him no wrong.'

11
Lord Thomas came tripping up the stair,
His cloathing was of the silk;
His fine yellow hair hung dangling down,
His skin was white as the milk.

12
And when he came before the king
He kneeled down on his knee;
Says, What is your will with me, my liege,
What is your will with me?

13
'I think no wonder, Lord Thomas,' he says,
'That my daughter fell in love with thee;
If thou wert a woman, as thou art a man,
My bed-fellow thou wouldst be.

14
'Will ye marry my daughter Jean,
By the faith of thy right hand?
Thou'se have part of my gold, part of my gear,
And a third part of my land.'

15
'Yes, I will marry thy daughter Jean,
By the faith of my right hand;
I'll have none of your gold, none of your gear;
I have enough in fair Scotland.'

16
He has mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on a dapple-grey;
He's got as much land in fair Scotland
As they can ride in a summer's day.

* * * * *

#A.#

O _is added, in singing, to every second and fourth
verse_.

1^2. oh.

9^3. the reeds of, _in my copy_.

11^2. of my.

#B.#

Quhat, ze, _etc., are printed_ what, ye.

#C.#

9. _Given thus in Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient
Scottish Ballads; derived, from Motherwell:_

The king called doun his merry men,
By thirties and by three;
Lord Thomas, that used to be the first.
The hindmost man was he.

#D.#

3^2. _altered, wrongly, to_ But lain with a.

9^2. shrrill.

#F.#

O _is added, in singing, to every second and fourth
verse_.

1^{3, 4}. _Thus in Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 27:_

Seven long years was past and gone
When our Scotish king came home. O

16. _Given thus in Kinloch's annotated copy of his
Ancient Scottish Ballads, as the concluding verse of Mr
Motherwell's copies and that of Buchan:_

He mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on a dapple-grey,
And they've as muckle land in braid Scotland
As can be rode in a lang simmer's day.

#G.# _Some trifling changes are made by Buchan in printing._

8^4. ben, _printed by Buchan_ len.

#I. a.#

14^2. of my: _so_ #b.#

16^1. her _wanting_.

#b.#

2^3. and very sick.

4^{1, 2}. _wanting._

5^2. that is.

5^3. these.

8^2. As fast as they.

9^3. his _wanting_.

11^3. hang.

13^4. should be.

#c.#

2^2. You are.

3^1. Put off your.

5^2. that is.

5^3. these.

7^4. Sitting under an orange tree.

8. _wanting._

14^2. of my.

14^3. Thou'llt.

[166] "A William Wynnesbury, who was yeoman of the Guard at the time of Henry VIII, used generally to act as Lord of Misrule in the years 1508-19, and he was Friar Tuck at Greenwich in May, 1515 (see Collier's Annals of the Stage, and J. S. Brewer's Letters and Papers of Henry VIII), and this, no doubt, made the name popular with the ballad-makers." Ward, Catalogue of Romances, etc., I, 532. Undeniably the Lord Winsbury of our ballad might be said to have acted as a lord of misrule, but it was hardly an English (or Scots) ballad-maker of the sixteenth century that made this ballad; and Mr. Ward, probably, did not intend so to be understood.

101

WILLIE O DOUGLAS DALE

#A.# 'Willy o Douglass-dale,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 8.

#B. a.# 'Dame Oliphant, or, Willie o Douglass Dale,'
Buchan MSS, II, 117. #b.# 'The Earl of Douglas and Dame
Oliphant,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II,
181; 'Lord Willie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 619.

#C.# 'Douglass Dale,' Kinloch MSS, V, 327.

#A# was among the fifteen ballads furnished by Mrs Brown to William Tytler in 1783, No 8. The first stanza is cited by Dr Anderson in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177. There is a copy in the Abbotsford MS. "Scottish Songs," fol. 16, in which the text is considerably altered; stanzas 7, 12, 19, 22-24 are omitted, and 25 is inserted between 30 and 31. #B b# inserts two stanzas after #B a# 15, and adds one at the end. The copy in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 32, is an abridgment of #B b# as made over in The Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland, Glasgow, 1871, p. 63. #C# has an appendage of two stanzas which belong to another ballad, and are transferred accordingly.

The first part of the story of this ballad, or down to the birth of the boy, is repeated in 'Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter' (hitherto called 'The Birth of Robin Hood'), which immediately follows. This portion of the ballad has resemblances to 'Leesome Brand,' No 15.[167]

#A# 9, #B# 15, is a popular passage the like of which is found in many ballads: as 'Child Waters,' #A# 2, 3; 'Lady Maisry,' #H# 7, 8; 'Willie o Winsbury,' #A# 5, #C# 5, #D# 3; 'Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter, '#A# 4; 'Der Ritter und die Magd,' Düntzer u. Herder, Briefe Goethe's, I, 157, st. 6; Nicolai, I, 40, No 2, st. 6; Wunderhorn, 1806, I, 50, st. 11, Erk, IV, 304, st. 5; Erk's Liederhort, p. 81, st. 10; Hoffmann u. Richter, No. 4, st. 4; Meier, Schwäbische Volkslieder, No 177, st. 9; Ditfurth, II, Nos 6, 7, 8, st. 5; Uhland, No 97 #A#, st. 5; Mittler, No 91, st. 6; 'Schön Elselein,' 'Das Schwabentöchterlein,' Böhme, No 51^a, st. 11, No 51^b, st. 8 (==Mittler, No 218; Uhland, No 257); 'Þiðriks kvæði konúngs,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, II, 218, No 57, st. 6; Haupt u. Schmaler, V. l. der Wenden, I, 160, No 136, st. 7; Sakellarios, Τà Κυπριακá, III, 52, No 20, vv 5-9; Guillon, Ch. p. de l'Ain, 'La Fille d'un Boulanger,' p. 201, sts 1, 2; Milá, Romancerillo, 'La infanta seducida,' p. 249, No 258, l. 4; 'De la infanta y el hijo del rey de Francia,' Wolf y Hofmann, Primavera, II, 91, No 158, verses 5, 6; Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, p. 86, st. 1, p. 215, st. 2.

The very ill-timed question in #B# 20 occurs in 'Young Hunting,' No 68, #K# 8, 'Clerk Saunders,' No 69, #F# 5, Buchan, Ballads of the North of Scotland, 'Auld Matrons,' II, 238, st. 4, and 'Willie's Fatal Visit,' II, 260, st. 7. For others in this passage see 'Rose the Red and White Lily.' The bribe of gowns in #B# 29 is found in 'Young Hunting,' #B# 9, #C# 7, #K# 13.

The historical foundation for this ballad suggested in The Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland, Glasgow, 1871, p. 63, cannot be seriously entertained.

A

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 8.

1
O Willy was as brave a lord
As ever saild the sea,
And he has gane to the English court,
To serve for meat and fee.

2
He had nae been at the kingis court
A twelvemonth and a day,
Till he longd for a sight o the king's daughter,
But ane he coud never see.

3
O it fell ance upon a day
To the green wood she has gane,
An Willy he has followd her,
With the clear light o the moon.

4
He looted him low, by her did go,
Wi his hat intill his hand:
'O what's your will wi me, Sir Knight?
I pray keep your hat on.'

5
'O I am not a knight, Madam,
Nor never thinks to be;
For I am Willy o Douglassdale,
An I serve for meat and fee.'

6
'O I'll gang to my bowr,' she says,
'An sigh baith even an morn
That ever I saw your face, Willy,
Or that ever ye was born.

7
'O I'll gang to my bowr,' she says,
'An I'll pray baith night an day,
To keep me frae your tempting looks,
An frae your great beauty.'

8
O in a little after that
He keepit Dame Oliphant's bowr,
An the love that passd between this twa,
It was like paramour.

9
'O narrow, narrow's my gown, Willy,
That wont to be sae wide;
An short, short is my coats, Willy,
That wont to be sae side;
An gane is a' my fair colour,
An low laid is my pride.

10
'But an my father get word of this,
He'll never drink again;
An gin my mother get word of this,
In her ain bowr she'll go brain;
An gin my bold brothers get word this,
I fear, Willy, you'll be slain.'

11
'O will you leave your father's court,
An go along wi me?
I'll carry you unto fair Scotland,
And mak you a lady free.'

12
She pat her han in her pocket
An gae him five hunder poun:
'An take you that now, Squire Willy,
Till awa that we do won.'

13
Whan day was gane, and night was come,
She lap the castle-wa;
But Willy kepit his gay lady,
He was laith to let her fa.

14
Whan night was gane, an day come in,
An lions gaed to their dens,
An ay the lady followd him,
An the tears came hailing down.

15
'O want ye ribbons to your hair?
Or roses to your shoone?
Or want ye as meickle dear bought love
As your ain heart can contain?'

16
'I want nae ribbons to my hair,
Nor roses till my shoone;
An Ohone, alas, for dear bought love!
I have mair nor I can contain.'

17
O he's pu'd the oak in good green wood,
An he's made to her a fire;
He coverd it oer wi withred leaves,
An gard it burn thro ire.

18
He made a bed i the good green wood,
An he's laid his lady down,
An he's coverd her oer wi fig-tree leaves,
But an his ain night-gown.

19
'O had I a bunch o yon red roddins,
That grows in yonder wood,
But an a drink o water clear,
I think it woud do me good.'

20
He's pu'd her a bunch o yon red roddins,
That grew beside yon thorn,
But an a drink o water clear,
Intill his hunting-horn.

21
He's bent his bow, and shot the deer,
An thro the green wood gane,
An ere that he came back again
His lady took travailing.

22
'O up ye tak that horn,' she says,
'An ye blaw a blast for me;
Gin my father be in good green wood,
Sae seen's he'll come me ti.'

23
'O gin there be a man on earth
That ye loo better nor me,
Ye blaw the horn yoursel,' he says,
'For it's never be blawn by me.'

24
O he's bent his bow, an shot the deer,
An thro the green wood has he gane,
An lang or he came back again
His lady bare him a son.

25
O up has he tane his bonny young son,
An washn him wi the milk,
An up has he tane his gay lady,
An rowd her i the silk.

26
He's bent his bow, and shot the deer,
An thro the green wood has he gane,
Till he met wi a well-fard may,
Her father's flock feeding.

27
'Ye leave your father's flock feeding,
An go along wi me;
I'll carry you to a lady fair,
Will gi you both meat and fee.'

28
O whan she came the lady before,
She's fa'n down on her knee:
'O what's your will wi me, my dame?
An a dame you seem to be.'

29
'O I'm Dame Oliphant, the king's daughter,
Nae doubt but ye've heard o me;
Will you leave your father's flock feeding,
An go to Scotlan wi me?

30
'An ye sal get a nouriship
Intill an earldome,
An I will gar provide for the
To marry some brave Scotsman.'

31
The may she keepit the bonny boy,
An Willy led his lady,
Untill they took their fair shippin,
Then quikly hame came they.

32
The win was fair, an the sea was clear,
An they a' wan safe to lan;
He's haild her lady of Douglassdale,
Himsel the lord within.

B

#a.# Buchan MSS, II, 117. #b.# Buchan's Ballads of the
North of Scotland, II, 181; Motherwell's MS., p. 619.

1
Willie was an earl's ae son,
And an earl's ae son was he,
But he thought his father lack to sair,
And his mother of low degree.

2
But he is on to fair England,
To sair for meat an fee,
And all was for Dame Oliphant,
A woman of great beauty.

3
He hadna been in fair England
A month but barely ane,
Ere he dreamd that fair Dame Oliphant
Gied him a gay gold ring.

4
He hadna been in fair England
A month but barely four,
Ere he dreamd that fair Dame Oliphant
Gied him a red rose flower,
Well set about with white lilies,
Like to the paramour.

5
It fell ance upon a day
Dame Oliphant thought lang,
And she gaed on to good green wood,
As fast as she could gang.

6
As Willie stood in his chamber-door,
And as he thought it good,
There he beheld Dame Oliphant,
As she came thro the wood.

7
He's taen his bow his arm oer,
His sword into his hand,
And he is on to good green wood,
As fast as he could gang.