Chapter XXXII: Appendix: The King of Scots and Andrew Browne (1)

A new Ballad, declaring the great treason conspired against the young King of Scots, and how one Andrew Browne, an Englishman, which was the king’s chamberlaine, preuented the same. To the tune of Milfield, or els to Greenesleeues.

This piece, which is contained in a collection of ballads and proclamations in the library of the Society of Antiquaries, London, is signed W. Elderton, and was “imprinted at London for Yarathe Iames, dvvelling in Nevvgate Market, ouer against Christes Church.” It was licensed to James, May 30, 1581: Arber II, 393. Reprinted by Percy, Reliques, 1765, II, 204; here from the original. There is an imperfect and incorrect copy in the Percy MS., p. 273; Hales and Furnivall, II, 265.

Morton was beheaded only three days after these verses were licensed, and had been in durance for several months before at the castle of Edinburgh. Elderton cannot be supposed to have the last news from Scotland, and he was not a man to keep his compositions by him nine years. The exhortation of Morton to his confederate, Douglas, in the last stanza but one is divertingly misplaced. The fictions of the privie banket and the selling of the king beyond seas are of the same mint as those in the ballad.

Jesus, God! what a griefe is this,
That princes subiects cannot be true,
But still the deuill hath some of his
Will play their parts, whatsoeuer ensue;
Forgetting what a greeuous thing
It is to offend the annointed kinge.
Alas for woe! why should it be so?
This makes a sorowfull heigh ho.

In Scotland is a bonie kinge,
As proper a youthe as neede to be,
Well giuen to euery happy thing
That can be in a kinge to see;
Yet that vnluckie countrie still
Hath people giuen to craftie will.
Alas for woe! etc.

On Whitson eue it so befell
A posset was made to give the kinge,
Whereof his ladie-nurse hard tell,
And that it was a poysoned thing.
She cryed, and called piteouslie,
‘Now helpe, or els the king shall die!’
Alas for woe! etc.

One Browne, that was an English man,
And hard the ladies piteous crye,
Out with his sword, and besturd him than
Out of the doores in haste to flie;
But all the doores were made so fast,
Out of a window he got at last.
Alas for woe! etc.

He met the bishop comming fast,
Hauing the posset in his hande;
The sight of Browne made him agast,
Who bad him stoutly staie and stand.
With him were two that ranne away,
For feare that Browne would make a fray.
Alas for woe! etc.

‘Bishop,’ quoth Browne, ‘what hast thou there?’
‘Nothing at all, my freend,’ sayde he,
‘But a posset to make the king good cheere.’
‘Is it so?’ sayd Browne, ‘that will I see.
First I will haue thy selfe begin,
Before thou goe any further in;
Be it weale or woe, it shall be so.’
This makes a sorrowfull heigh ho.

The bishop saide, Browne, I doo know
Thou art a young man poore and bare;
Liuings on thee I will bestowe;
Let me go on, take thee no care.
‘No, no,’ quoth Browne, ‘I will not be
A traitour for all Christiantie.
Happe weal or woe, it shall be so:
Drinke now, with a sorrowfull heigh ho.’

The bishop dranke, and by and by
His belly burst and he fell downe:
A iust reward for his traytery.
‘This was a posset in deede!’ quoth Browne.
He serched the bishop, and found the keyes
To come to the kinge when he did please.
Alas for woe! etc.

As soone as the king gat word of this,
He humbly fell vppon his knee,
And praysed God that he did misse
To tast of that extremity:
For that he did perceaue and know
His clergie would betray him so.
Alas for woe! etc.

‘Alas,’ he said, ‘vnhappy realme!
My father and godfather slaine,
My mother banished, O extreame
Vnhappy fate, and bitter bayne!
And now like treason wrought for me.
What more vnhappy realme can be!’
Alas for woe! etc.

The king did call his nurse to his grace,
And gave her twentie pound a yeere;
And trustie Browne to, in like case,
He knighted him, with gallant geere,
And gaue him . . . liuings great,
For dooing such a manly feat
As he did sho[w]e, to the bishops woe,
Which made, etc.

When all this treason don and past
Tooke not effect of traytery,
Another treason at the last
They sought against his Maiestie;
How they might make their kinge away
By a priuie banket on a daye.
Alas for woe! etc.

Wherat they ment to sell the king
Beyonde the seas, it was decreede:
Three noble earles heard of this thing,
And did preuent the same with speede.
For a letter came, with such a charme,
That they should doo they[r] king no harme,
For further woe, if they did so;
Which made a sorrowfull heigh ho.

The Earle Mourton told the Douglas then,
‘Take heede you doo not offend the kinge:
But shew your selues like honest men,
Obediently in euery thing;
For his godmother will not see
Her noble childe misvsde to be
With any woe; for if it be so,
She will make a sorrowfull heigh ho’

God graunt all subiects may be true,
In England, Scotland, and euerie where,
That no such daunger may ensue,
To put the prince or state in feare;
That God, the highest king, may see
Obedience as it ought to be.
In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so!
To auoide the sorrowfull heigh ho.

181

THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY

#A.# ‘The Bonny Earl of Murray,’ Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, 11th
ed., London, 1750, p. 356 (vol. iv).

#B.# ‘The Bonnie Earl o Murray,’ Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 11.

#A# is not in the ninth edition of the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1733, but may be in the tenth (1736? 1740?), which I have not seen. It is printed in Percy’s Reliques, 1765, II, 210, and in many subsequent collections: Herd’s Scots Songs, 1769, p. 32; Ritson’s Scottish Songs, 1794, II, 29; Johnson’s Museum, No 177; etc.

James Stewart, son of Sir James Stewart of Doune, became Earl of Murray in consequence of his marriage with the oldest daughter and heiress of the Regent Murray. “He was a comely personage, of a great stature, and strong of body like a kemp.”[289] There was a violent hostility between Murray and the Earl of Huntly. The occurrence which is the subject of the ballad may be narrated in the least space by citing the account given by Spottiswood. After his assault on Holyrood House in December (or September), 1591, “Bothwell went into the north, looking to be supplied by the Earl of Murray, his cousin-german; which the king suspecting, Andrew Lord Ochiltrie was sent to bring Murray unto the south, of purpose to work a reconcilement betwixt him and Huntly. But a rumor being raised in the mean while that the Earl of Murray was seen in the palace with Bothwell on the night of the enterprise, the same was entertained by Huntly (who waited then at court) to make him suspected of the king, and prevailed so far as he did purchase a commission to apprehend and bring Murray to his trial. The nobleman, not fearing that any such course should be used, was come to Donibristle, a house situated on the north side of Forth, and belonging to his mother the lady Doune. Huntly, being advertised of his coming, and how he lay there secure, accompanied only with the Sheriff of Murray and a few of his own retinue, went thither and beset the house, requiring him to render. The Earl of Murray refusing to put himself in the hands of his enemy, after some defence made, wherein the sheriff was killed, fire was set to the house, and they within forced by the violence of the smoke and flame to come forth. The earl staid a great space after the rest, and, the night falling down, ventured among his enemies, and, breaking through the midst of them, did so far outrun them all as they supposed he was escaped; yet searching him among the rocks, he was discovered by the tip of his head-piece, which had taken fire before he left the house, and unmercifully slain. The report went that Huntly’s friends, fearing he should disclaim the fact (for he desired rather to have taken him alive), made him light from his horse and give some strokes to the dead corpse.... The death of the nobleman was universally lamented, and the clamors of the people so great ... that the king, not esteeming it safe to abide at Edinburgh, removed with the council to Glasgow, where he remained until Huntly did enter himself in ward in Blackness, as he was charged. But he staid not there many days, being dimitted, upon caution, to answer before the justice whensoever he should be called. The corpses of the Earl and Sheriff of Murray were brought to the church of Leith in two coffins, and there lay divers months unburied, their friends refusing to commit their bodies to the earth till the slaughter was punished. Nor did any man think himself so much interested in that fact as the Lord Ochiltrie, who had persuaded the Earl of Murray to come south; whereupon he fell afterwards away to Bothwell, and joined with him for revenge of the murder.”

This outrage was done in the month of February, 1592. Huntly sheltered himself under the king’s commission, and was not punished. He was no doubt a dangerous man to discipline, but the king, perhaps because he believed Murray to be an abettor of Bothwell, showed no disposition that way.

According to Sir James Balfour, “the queen, more rashly than wisely, some few days before had commended” Murray, “in the king’s hearing, with too many epithets of a proper and gallant man.” Balfour may have had gossip, or he may have had a ballad, for his authority (see #A# 5); the suggestion deserves no attention.[290]

In #B# the Countess of Murray is treated as the sister of Huntly.

#A# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 8, p. 52; by Herder, II, 71. #B# by Arndt, Blütenlese, p. 196.

A

Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, 1763, p. 356.

1
Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands,
Oh where have you been?
They have slain the Earl of Murray,
And they layd him on the green.

2
‘Now wae be to thee, Huntly!
And wherefore did you sae?
I bade you bring him wi you,
But forbade you him to slay.’

3
He was a braw gallant,
And he rid at the ring;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh he might have been a king!

4
He was a braw gallant,
And he playd at the ba;
And the bonny Earl of Murray
Was the flower amang them a’.

5
He was a braw gallant,
And he playd at the glove;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh he was the Queen’s love!

6
Oh lang will his lady
Look oer the castle Down,
Eer she see the Earl of Murray
Come sounding thro the town!
Eer she, etc.

B

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 11; from recitation.

1
‘Open the gates,
and let him come in;
He is my brother Huntly,
he’ll do him nae harm.’

2
The gates they were opent,
they let him come in,
But fause traitor Huntly,
he did him great harm.

3
He’s ben and ben,
and ben to his bed,
And with a sharp rapier
he stabbed him dead.

4
The lady came down the stair,
wringing her hands:
‘He has slain the Earl o Murray,
the flower o Scotland.’

5
But Huntly lap on his horse,
rade to the king:
‘Ye’re welcome hame, Huntly,
and whare hae ye been?

6
‘Whare hae ye been?
and how hae ye sped?’
‘I’ve killed the Earl o Murray,
dead in his bed.’

7
‘Foul fa you, Huntly!
and why did ye so?
You might have taen the Earl o Murray,
and saved his life too.’

8
‘Her bread it’s to bake,
her yill is to brew;
My sister’s a widow,
and sair do I rue.

9
‘Her corn grows ripe,
her meadows grow green,
But in bonny Dinnibristle
I darena be seen.’

182

THE LAIRD O LOGIE

#A.# ‘The Laird o Logie,’ Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 128. The
same, with the insertion of one stanza from recitation, Motherwell’s
Minstrelsy, p. 56.

#B.# ‘The young Laird of Ochiltrie,’ Herd, The Ancient and Modern
Scots Songs, 1769, p. 240; ed. 1776, I, 21. Repeated in Campbell
MSS, I, 142.

#C.# ‘The Laird of Logie,’ a stall-copy printed by M. Randall,
Stirling. The same in Motherwell’s MS., p. 504, and in Maidment’s
Scotish Ballads and Songs, p. 8, ‘The young Laird of Logie.’

#D.# ‘Young Logie,’ Harris MS., fol. 16.

#E.# ‘The Laird o Logie, or, May Margaret,’ Motherwell’s Minstrelsy,
p. 56, one stanza.

Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, a madcap cousin of the king, had been guilty of a violent assault upon Holyrood House in December (or September), 1591, and in June, 1592, had “conspired the apprehension of the king’s person” while James was residing at Falkland. In August following he attempted to force himself into the king’s presence to “make his reconciliation.”

“The lairds of Burlie and Logie, delated to [have] had intelligence with the Earl Bothwell, were taken and apprehended by the Duke of Lennox the ninth day of August, 1592, and committed to ward within Dalkeith; where being examined they both confessed the same. Burley gat his life for telling the truth, but Logie, being a great courtier with the king, and dealer with the Earl Bothwell in Bothwell’s enterprise which should [have] been done at Dalkeith, to wit, that they should come in at the back gate through the yard and [have] gotten the king in their hands, the said laird of Logie was ordained to be tried by an assize and executed to the death. But the same night that he was examined, he escaped out by the means of a gentlewoman whom he loved, a Dane, who conveyed him out of his keepers’ hands, through the queen’s chamber, where his Majesty and the queen were lying in their beds, to a window in the backside of the place, where he went down upon a tow [rope], and shot three pistols in token of his onlouping [mounting his horse] where some of his servants, with the laird of Niddry, were awaiting him.” (Moysie’s Memoirs, p. 95.)

Another account may be added, from The Historie of King James the Sext (p. 253 f.):

“It fortuned that a gentleman called Wemyss of Logie, being also in credence at court, was delated as a trafficker with Francis Earl Bothwell; and he, being examined before king and council, confessed his accusation to be of verity; that sundry times he had spoken with him, expressly against the king’s inhibition proclaimed in the contrary; which confession he subscribed with his hand....

“Queen Anne, our noble princess, was served with divers gentlewomen of her own country, and namely with one called Mistress Margaret Twynstoun, to whom this gentleman, Wemyss of Logie, bore great honest affection, tending to the godly band of marriage; the which was honestly requited by the said gentlewoman, yea, even in his greatest mister (need). For how soon she understood the said gentleman to be in distress, and apparently by his confession, to be punisht to the death, and she having privilege to lie in the queen’s chamber that same very night of his accusation, where the king was also reposing that same night, she came forth of the door privily, both the princes being then at quiet rest, and past to the chamber where the said gentleman was put in custody to certain of the guard, and commanded them that immediately he should be brought to the king and queen; whereunto they giving sure credence obeyed. But how soon she was come back to the chamber-door, she desired the watches to stay till he should come forth again; and so she closed the door and conveyed the gentleman to a window, where she ministered a long cord unto him to convey himself down upon, and so, by her good charitable help, he happily escaped, by the subtlety of love.”

Calderwood gives the following account: “Upon Monday the seventh of August, the king being in Dalkeith, the young laird of Logie and Burlie promised to Bothwell to bring him in before the king to seek his pardon. The king was forewarned, and Bothwell, howbeit brought in quietly within the castle, was conveyed out again. Burlie was accused and confessed; Logie denied, and therefore would have suffered trial. The night before, one of the queen’s dames, Mistress Margaret, a Dutchwoman, came to the guard and desired that he might be suffered to come to the queen, who had something to inquire of him. Two of the guard brought him to the king’s chamber-door, and staid upon his coming forth, but she conveyed him in the mean time out at a window in a pair of sheets.... Logie married the gentlewoman after, when he was received into the king’s favor again.”[291] Logie, according to Calderwood, was “a varlet of the king’s chamber.”

Spottiswood says: John Weymis younger of Logie, gentleman of his Majesty’s chamber, and in great favor both with the king and queen, was discovered to have the like dealing with Bothwell, and, being committed to the keeping of the guard, escaped by the policy of one of the Dutch maids, with whom he entertained a secret love. The gentlewoman, named Mistress Margaret Twinslace, coming one night, whilst the king and queen were in bed, to his keepers, shewed that the king called for the prisoner, to ask of him some question. The keepers, suspecting nothing, for they knew her to be the principal maid in the chamber, conveyed him to the door of the bed-chamber, and making a stay without, as they were commanded, the gentlewoman did let him down at a window, by a cord that she had prepared. The keepers, waiting upon his return, staid there till the morning, and then found themselves deceived. This, with the manner of the escape, ministered great occasion of laughter; and not many days after, the king being pacified by the queen’s means, he was pardoned, and took to wife the gentlewoman who had in this sort hazarded her credit for his safety.[292]

The lady, called by Calderwood and Spottiswood a Dutchwoman, but rightly by Moysie a Dane, was one of a train of her countrywomen who attended Queen Anne when she came to Scotland in May, 1590. She is called Mistress Margaret Vinstar in a letter of Robert Bowes to Lord Burghley of August 12, 1592;[293] Margaret Weiksterne in a charter dated 25th December, 1594.[294]

Young Logie cannot have received a complete pardon within a few days of his escape. At a council meeting, September 14, 1592, it is ordered that Wemyss of Logie the younger, having failed to appear this day to answer touching the ‘intercommuning and having intelligence with Francis, sometime Earl Bothwell,’ be denounced rebel.[295]

#A.# Young Logie is a prisoner, in Carmichael’s[296] keeping, and May Margaret, who is enamored of him, is weeping for his expected death. The queen can do nothing, and tells her that she must go to the king himself to beg the life of her lover. She goes, accordingly, but gets an ill answer: all the gold in Scotland shall not save Young Logie. In this strait she steals the king’s comb and the queen’s knife, and sends them to Carmichael as tokens that Logie is to be discharged. She provides the young man with money, and gives him a pair of pistols, which he is to fire in sign that he is at liberty. The king hears the ‘volley’ from his bed, and by his peculiar sagacity recognizes the shot of Young Logie. He sends for Carmichael, and learning that the prisoner was set free in virtue of a royal token, says, You will make his place good tomorrow. Carmichael hurries to Margaret, and wants a word with Logie. Margaret, with a laugh, tells him that the bird is flown. The young pair severally take ship and are married.

In #B#, the queen, instead of referring Margaret to the king as the only resource, herself undertakes to save the young man’s life. She asks it of her consort as her first boon; the king makes her the same answer which he gives Margaret in #A#, All the gold in Scotland will not buy mercy. Margaret, in desperation, wishes to kill herself, but the queen will put her in a better way to save her lover. The queen steals the prison-keys, and the story proceeds as before. The king threatens to hang all his gaolers, to the number of thirty and three. The gaolers plead that they received the keys (which are also thirty and three) with a strict command to enlarge the prisoner. The queen says that, if the gaolers are to hang, a beginning must be made with her.

#B# substitutes Ochiltrie for Logie. Andrew Stewart, Lord of Ochiltrie, was an active partisan of Bothwell (see the preceding ballad), and at a council-meeting on May 2, 1594 (the same meeting at which a caution of three hundred merks was required for Young Logie), was ordered to be denounced rebel for not appearing to answer touching his “tressounable attemptattis”; that is, for having been Bothwell’s main helper in the Raid of Leith, April 3 preceding.[297] So far his case resembles Young Logie’s, and it may be that the two became confounded in tradition earlier than the middle of the eighteenth century, about which time #B# was taken down. But an interchange of names is of the commonest occurrence in traditional ballads, and perhaps Ochiltrie’s appearance here no more requires to be accounted for than his figuring, as he does, in one of the versions of ‘The Broom of Cowdenknows.’

Although the queen had no hand in the freeing of Young Logie, and is not known even to have winked at it, she stood by Mistress Margaret, and refused to give her up when requested.[298]

#C# agrees with #B# as to the part taken by the queen in the rescue. There are but three keepers, and presumably but three keys to steal from under the king’s head, and the queen sends her wedding-ring with the keys, as a warrant to the keepers. In 5, Anne is queen of England as well as queen of Scotland; but we cannot expect that a stall-ballad of this century should be nice about a matter of eleven years.

The offence for which Young Logie is to die in #D# is the stealing of a kiss “from the queen’s marie,” which shows a high appreciation of the discipline at James’s court. The queen counterfeits the king’s hand and steals his right glove, and sends the forged paper and the glove to “Pitcairn’s walls” as authority for the liberation of the prisoner. The king, looking over his castle-wall, sees Young Logie approaching, and his exclamation at the sight brings the queen to an instantaneous confession of what she has done. The king very good-naturedly overlooks the offence and absolves the lover for whom it was committed.

Translated from Motherwell by Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 73.

A

Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 128, “as recited by a gentleman
residing near Biggar.”

1
I will sing, if ye will hearken,
If ye will hearken unto me;
The king has taen a poor prisoner,
The wanton laird o Young Logie.

2
Young Logie’s laid in Edinburgh chapel,
Carmichael’s the keeper o the key;
And May Margaret’s lamenting sair,
A’ for the love of Young Logie.

3
‘Lament, lament na, May Margaret,
And of your weeping let me be;
For ye maun to the king himsell,
To seek the life of Young Logie.’

4
May Margaret has kilted her green cleiding,
And she has curld back her yellow hair:
‘If I canna get Young Logie’s life,
Farewell to Scotland for evermair!’

5
When she came before the king,
She knelit lowly on her knee:
‘O what’s the matter, May Margaret?
And what needs a’ this courtesie?’

6
‘A boon, a boon, my noble liege,
A boon, a boon, I beg o thee,
And the first boon that I come to crave
Is to grant me the life of Young Logie.’

7
‘O na, O na, May Margaret,
Forsooth, and so it mauna be;
For a’ the gowd o fair Scotland
Shall not save the life of Young Logie.’

8
But she has stown the king’s redding-kaim,
Likewise the queen her wedding knife,
And sent the tokens to Carmichael,
To cause Young Logie get his life.

9
She sent him a purse o the red gowd,
Another o the white monie;
She sent him a pistol for each hand,
And bade him shoot when he gat free.

10
When he came to the Tolbooth stair,
There he let his volley flee;
It made the king in his chamber start,
Een in the bed where he might be.

11
‘Gae out, gae out, my merrymen a’,
And bid Carmichael come speak to me;
For I’ll lay my life the pledge o that
That yon’s the shot o Young Logie.’

12
When Carmichael came before the king,
He fell low down upon his knee;
The very first word that the king spake
Was, Where’s the laird of Young Logie?

13
Carmichael turnd him round about,
I wot the tear blinded his ee:
‘There came a token frae your Grace
Has taen away the laird frae me.’

14
‘Hast thou playd me that, Carmichael?
And hast thou playd me that?’ quoth he;
‘The morn the Justice Court’s to stand,
And Logie’s place ye maun supplie.’

15
Carmichael’s awa to Margaret’s bower,
Even as fast as he may dree:
‘O if Young Logie be within,
Tell him to come and speak with me.’

16
May Margaret turnd her round about,
I wot a loud laugh laughed she:
‘The egg is chippd, the bird is flown,
Ye’ll see nae mair of Young Logie.’

17
The tane is shipped at the pier of Leith,
The tother at the Queen’s Ferrie,
And she’s gotten a father to her bairn,
The wanton laird of Young Logie.

B

Herd, The Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 240.

1
O listen, gude peopell, to my tale,
Listen to what I tel to thee;
The king has taiken a poor prisoner,
The wanton laird of Ochiltrie.

2
When news came to our guidly queen,
Sche sicht, and said right mournfullie,
‘O what will cum of Lady Margret!
Wha beirs sick luve to Ochiltrie.’

3
Lady Margret tore hir yellow hair
When as the queen tald hir the saim:
‘I wis that I had neir bin born,
Nor neir had knawn Ochiltrie’s naim!’

4
‘Fie, na!’ quoth the queen, ‘that maunna be;
Fie, na! that maunna be;
I’ll fynd ye out a better way
To saif the lyfe of Ochiltrie.’

5
The queen sche trippit up the stair,
And lowlie knielt upon hir knie:
‘The first boon which I cum to craive
Is the life of gentel Ochiltrie.’

6
‘O iff you had askd me castels or towirs,
I wad hae gin thaim, twa or thrie;
Bot a’ the monie in fair Scotland
Winna buy the lyfe of Ochiltrie.’

7
The queen sche trippit down the stair,
And down she gade richt mournfullie:
‘It’s a’ the monie in fair Scotland
Winna buy the lyfe of Ochiltrie!’

8
Lady Margaret tore her yellow hair
When as the queen tald hir the saim:
‘I’ll tak a knife and end my lyfe,
And be in the grave as soon as him!’

9
‘Ah, na! Fie, na!’ quoth the queen,
‘Fie, na! Fie, na! this maunna be;
I’ll set ye on a better way
To loose and set Ochiltrie frie.’

10
The queen sche slippit up the stair,
And sche gaid up richt privatlie,
And sche has stoun the prison-keys,
And gane and set Ochiltrie frie.

11
And sche’s gien him a purse of gowd,
And another of whyt monie;
Sche’s gien him twa pistoles by ’s syde,
Saying to him, Shute, when ye win frie.

12
And when he cam to the queen’s window,
Whaten a joyfou shute gae he!
‘Peace be to our royal queen,
And peace be in hir companie!’

13
‘O whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth the king,
‘Whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth he;
‘Whaten a voyce is that?’ quoth the king;
‘I think it’s the voyce of Ochiltrie.

14
‘Call to me a’ my gaolours,
Call thaim by thirtie and by thrie;
Whairfoir the morn, at twelve a clock,
It’s hangit schall they ilk ane be.’

15
‘O didna ye send your keyis to us?
Ye sent thaim be thirtie and be thrie,
And wi thaim sent a strait command
To set at lairge young Ochiltrie.’

16
‘Ah, na! Fie, na!’ quoth the queen,
‘Fie, my dear luve, this maunna be!
And iff ye’re gawn to hang thaim a’,
Indeed ye maun begin wi me.’

17
The tane was schippit at the pier of Leith,
The ither at the Queen’s Ferrie,
And now the lady has gotten hir luve,
The winsom laird of Ochiltrie.

C

A stall-copy, printed by M. Randall, Stirling.

1
The young laird of Logie is to prison cast;
Carmichael’s the keeper of the key;
Lady Margaret, the queen’s cousin, is very sick,
And it’s all for love of Young Logie.

2
She’s into the queen’s chamber gone,
She has kneeld low down on her knee;
Says she, You must go to the king yourself;
It’s all for a pardon to Young Logie.

3
The queen is unto the king’s chamber gone,
She has kneeld low down on her knee:
‘O what is the matter, my gracious queen?
And what means all this courtesie?

4
‘Have I not made thee queen of fair Scotland?
The queen of England I trow thou be;
Have not I made thee my wedded wife?
Then what needs all this courtesie?’

5
‘You have made me queen of [fair] Scotland,
The queen of England I surely be;
Since you have made me your wedded wife,
Will you grant a pardon for Young Logie?’

6
The king he turned him right round about,
I think an angry man was he:
‘The morrow, before it is twelve o’clock,
O hangd shall the laird of Logie be.’

7
The queen she’s into her chamber gone,
Amongst her maries, so frank and free;
‘You may weep, you may weep, Margaret,’ she says,
‘For hanged must the laird of Logie be.’

8
She has torn her silken scarf and hood,
And so has she her yellow hair:
‘Now fare you well, both king and queen,
And adieu to Scotland for ever mair!’

9
She has put off her goun of silk,
And so has she her gay clothing:
‘Go fetch me a knife, and I’ll kill myself,
Since the laird of Logie is not mine.’

10
Then out bespoke our gracious queen,
And she spoke words most tenderlie;
‘Now hold your hand, Lady Margaret,’ she said,
‘And I’ll try to set Young Logie free.’

11
She’s up into the king’s chamber gone,
And among his nobles so free;
‘Hold away, hold away!’ says our gracious king,
‘No more of your pardons for Young Logie.

12
‘Had you but askd me for houses and land,
I would have given you castles three;
Or anything else shall be at your command,
But only a pardon for Young Logie.’

13
‘Hold your hand now, my sovereign liege,
And of your anger let it be;
For the innocent blood of Lady Margret
It will rest on the head of thee and me.’

14
The king and queen are gone to their bed,
But as he was sleeping so quietly,
She has stole the keys from below his head,
And has sent to set Young Logie free.

15
Young Logie he’s on horseback got,
Of chains and fetters he’s got free;
As he passd by the king’s window,
There he has fired vollies three.

16
The king he awakend out of his sleep,
Out of his bed came hastilie;
Says, I’ll lay all my lands and rents
That yonder’s the laird of Logie free.’

17
The king has sent to the prison strong,
He has calld for his keepers three;
Says, How does all your prisoners?
And how does the young laird of Logie?

18
‘Your Majesty sent me your wedding-ring,
With your high command to set him free;’
‘Then tomorrow, before that I eat or drink,
I surely will hang you keepers three.’

19
Then out bespoke our gracious queen,
And she spoke words most tenderlie;
‘If ever you begin to hang a man for this,
Your Majesty must begin with me.’

20
The one took shipping at [the pier of] Leith,
The other at the Queen’s Ferrie;
Lady Margaret has gotten the man she loves,
I mean the young laird of Logie.

D

Harris MS., fol. 16; from Mrs Harris’s recitation.

1
Pretty is the story I hae to tell,
Pretty is the praisin o itsel,
An pretty is the prisner oor king’s tane,
The rantin young laird o Logie.

2
Has he brunt? or has he slain?
Or has he done any injurie?
Oh no, no, he’s done nothing at all,
But stown a kiss frae the queen’s marie.

3
Ladie Margaret cam doon the stair,
Wringin her hands an tearin her hair;
Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam,
Aye to see Young Logie dee!

4
‘Had your tongue noo, Lady Margaret,
An a’ your weepin lat a bee!
For I’ll gae to the king my sell,
An plead for life to Young Logie.’

5
‘First whan I to Scotland cam,
You promised to gie me askens three;
The first then o these askens is
Life for the young laird o Logie.’

6
‘If you had asked house or lands,
They suld hae been at your command;
But the morn, ere I taste meat or drink,
High hanged sall Young Logie be.’

7
Lady Margaret cam doon the stair,
Wringin her hands an tearin her hair;
Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam,
A’ to see Young Logie dee!

8
‘Haud your tongue noo, Lady Margaret,
An a’ your weepin lat a bee!
For I’ll counterfiet the king’s hand-write,
An steal frae him his richt hand gloe,
An send them to Pitcairn’s wa’s,
A’ to lat Young Logie free.’

9
She counterfieted the king’s hand-write,
An stole frae him his richt hand gloe,
An sent them to Pitcairn’s wa’s,
A’ to let Young Logie free.

10
The king luikit owre his castle-wa,
Was luikin to see what he cald see:
‘My life to wad an my land to pawn,
Yonder comes the young laird o Logie!’

11
‘Pardon, oh pardon! my lord the king,
Aye I pray you pardon me;
For I counterfieted your hand-write,
An stole frae you your richt hand gloe,
An sent them to Pitcairn’s wa’s,
A’ to set Young Logie free.’

12
‘If this had been done by laird or lord,
Or by baron of high degree,
I’se mak it sure, upon my word,
His life suld hae gane for Young Logie.

13
‘But since it is my gracious queen,
A hearty pardon we will gie,
An for her sake we’ll free the loon,
The rantin young laird o Logie.’

E

Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 56, the third stanza; from recitation.

May Margaret sits in the queen’s bouir,
Knicking her fingers ane be ane,
Cursing the day that she ere was born,
Or that she ere heard o Logie’s name.

* * * * *

#B.#

6^1. and towirs _in ed._ 1776.

Qu _in_ what, etc., _is rendered by_ w, _and_ z _in_ ze, _etc.,
by_ y.

#C.#

_Maidment’s copy has some slight variations, such as often occur
in different issues of stall-prints._

1^3. very very.

1^4. the love.

3^1. into.

4^2. you be.

6^4. It’s hanged.

7^1. her own.

7^2. and so free.

7^3. Lady Margret.

8^1. tore.

8^2, 9^2. she has.

8^3. ye.

11^1. up to.

14^2. beds.

18^2. commands.

19^3. you do hang.

20^1. at the pier of.

#D.#

2^1. _Perhaps_ brent.

6^1. _Perhaps_ houses.

10^2. _Perhaps_ culd.

183

WILLIE MACINTOSH

#A.# ‘Burning of Auchindown.’ #a.# The Thistle of Scotland, p. 106. b.
Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 248.

#B.# ‘Willie Mackintosh,’ Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 89.

The murder of the “Bonny Earl of Murray” was the occasion of serious commotions in the North Highlands. Towards the end of the year 1592, the Macintoshes of the Clan Chattan, who of all the faction of Murray “most eagerly endeavored to revenge his death,” invaded the estates of the Earl of Huntly, and killed four gentlemen of the surname of Gordon. Huntly retaliated, “and rade into Pettie (which was then in the possession of the Clan Chattan), where he wasted and spoiled all the Clan Chattan’s lands, and killed divers of them. But as the Earl of Huntly had returned home from Pettie, he was advertised that William Macintosh with eight hundred of Clan Chattan were spoiling his lands of Cabrach: whereupon Huntly and his uncle Sir Patrick Gordon of Auchindown, with some few horsemen, made speed towards the enemy, desiring the rest of his company to follow him with all possible diligence, knowing that if once he were within sight of them they would desist from spoiling the country. Huntly overtook the Clan Chattan before they left the bounds of Cabrach, upon the head of a hill called Stapliegate, where, without staying for the rest of his men, he invaded them with these few he then had. After a sharp conflict he overthrew them, chased them, killed sixty of their ablest men, and hurt William Macintosh with divers others of his company.”[299]

Two William Macintoshes are confounded in the ballad. The burning of Auchindown is attributed, rightly or wrongly, to an earlier William, captain of the clan, who, in August, 1550, was formally convicted of conspiracy against the life of the Earl of Huntly, then lieutenant in the north, sentenced to lose his life and lands, and, despite a pledge to the contrary, executed shortly after by the Countess of Huntly.[300]

Auchindown castle is on the banks of the Fiddich, #B# 1. By Cairn Croom, #A# 4, is meant, I suppose, the noted Cairngorm mountain, at the southern extremity of Banffshire.

A

#a.# The Thistle of Scotland, p. 106, 1823. #b.# Whitelaw, The Book
of Scottish Ballads, p. 248; from an Aberdeen newspaper of about
1815.

1
‘Turn, Willie Macintosh,
Turn, I bid you;
Gin ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly will head you.’

2
‘Head me or hang me,
That canna fley me;
I’ll burn Auchendown,
Ere the life lea me.’

3
Coming down Deeside,
In a clear morning,
Auchindown was in flame,
Ere the cock-crawing.

4
But coming oer Cairn Croom,
And looking down, man,
I saw Willie Macintosh
Burn Auchindown, man.

5
‘Bonny Willie Macintosh,
Whare left ye your men?’
‘I left them in the Stapler,
But they’ll never come hame.’

6
‘Bonny Willie Macintosh,
Whare now is your men?’
‘I left them in the Stapler,
Sleeping in their sheen.’

B

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, II, 89, 1808, as recollected by a lady
and communicated by Walter Scott.

1
As I came in by Fiddich-side,
In a May morning,
I met Willie Mackintosh,
An hour before the dawning.

2
‘Turn again, turn again,
Turn again, I bid ye;
If ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly he will head ye.’

3
‘Head me, hang me,
That sall never fear me;
I’ll burn Auchindown
Before the life leaves me.’

4
As I came in by Auchindown,
In a May morning,
Auchindown was in a bleeze,
An hour before the dawning.

* * * * *

5
Crawing, crawing,
For my crowse crawing,
I lost the best feather i my wing
For my crowse crawing.

* * * * *

#A. b.#

1^2. Turn, turn.

1^3. If you.

2^2. That winna.

3 _wanting._

4^1. But _wanting_.

_After_ 4:
Light was the mirk hour
At the day-dawing,
For Auchindoun was in flames
Ere the cock-crawing.

5, 6 _wanting._

184

THE LADS OF WAMPHRAY

Glenriddell MSS, XI, 34, 1791.

‘Lads of Wamphray, ane old ballad, sometimes called The Galiard,’ is the superscription in the manuscript. Printed in Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 208, 1802, II, 148, 1833; with the omission of 4 and 36, the insertion of four verses after 8, two transpositions, and some changes of language.

“The following song celebrates the skirmish, in 1593, betwixt the Johnstones and Crichtons, which led to the revival of the ancient quarrel betwixt Johnstone and Maxwell, and finally to the battle of Dryffe Sands, in which the latter lost his life. Wamphray is the name of a parish in Annandale. Lethenhall was the abode of Johnstone of Wamphray, and continued to be so till of late years. William Johnstone of Wamphray, called the Galliard, was a noted freebooter. A place near the head of Teviotdale retains the name of the Galliard’s Faulds (folds), being a valley, where he used to secrete and divide his spoil with his Liddesdale and Eskdale associates. His _nom de guerre_ seems to have been derived from the dance called the galliard. The word is still used in Scotland to express an active, gay, dissipated character. Willie of the Kirkhill, nephew to the Galliard, and his avenger, was also a noted Border robber.”

“Leverhay, Stefenbiggen, Girth-head, etc., are all situated in the parish of Wamphray. The Biddes-burn, where the skirmish took place betwixt the Johnstones and their pursuers, is a rivulet which takes its course among the mountains on the confines of Nithesdale and Annandale. The Wellpath is a pass by which the Johnstones were retreating to their fastnesses in Annandale. Ricklaw-holm is a place upon the Evan water, which falls into the Annan below Moffat. Wamphray-gate was in these days an alehouse.” Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 208 ff., ed. 1802.

This affair is briefly noticed in the Historie of King James the Sext in the following terms: “Sum unbrydlit men of Johnestons ... hapnit to ryd a steiling in the moneth of Julij this present yeir of God 1593, in the lands and territoreis pertening to the Lord Sanquhar and the knyghtis of Drumlanryg, Lag and Closburne, upon the watter of Nyth; whare, attoure the great reaf and spulye that thay tuik away with violent hand, thay slew and mutilat a great nomber of men wha stude for defence of thair awin geir and to reskew the same from the hands of sik vicious revers.”[301] P. 297.

It is hard to determine whether the first eight stanzas of the ballad are anything more than a prelude, and whether 5, 7 note the customary practice of the Lads of Wamphray, or anticipate, as is done in 3, certain points in the story which follows. The gap after 8 is filled by Scott with verses which describe the Galliard as incapable of keeping his hands from another man’s horse, and as having gone to Nithsdale to steal Sim Crichton’s dun. The Galliard makes an unlucky selection from the Crichton stable, and takes a blind horse instead of the coveted dun. Under the impression that he has the right beast, he calls out to Sim to come out and see a Johnstone ride. The Crichtons mount for pursuit; the Galliard sees that they will be up with him, and tries to hide behind a willow-bush. Resistance is vain, for there is no other man by but Will of Kirkhill; entreaties and promises are bootless; the Crichtons hang the Galliard high. Will of Kirkhill vows to avenge his uncle’s death, and to this end goes back to Wamphray and raises a large band of riders, who proceed to Nithsdale and drive off the Crichtons’ cattle. On the return the Johnstones are followed or intercepted by the Crichtons; a fight ensues, and the Crichtons suffer severely. Will of Kirkhill boasts that he has killed a man for every finger of the Galliard. The Johnstones drive the Crichtons’ nout to Wamphray.[302]

There is a story, not sufficiently authenticated, that Lord Maxwell, while engaged in single combat with Johnstone, at the battle of Dryfesands, “was slain behind his back by the cowardly hands of Will of Kirkhill.” The New Statistical Account of Scotland, IV, 148, note[B].

1
Twixt the Girthhead and Langwood-end
Livd the Galiard and Galiard’s men.

2
It is the lads of Lethenha,
The greatest rogues among them a’.

3
It is the lads of Leverhay,
That drove the Crichtons’ gier away.

4
It is the lads o the Kirkhill,
The gay Galiard and Will o Kirkhill,

5
But and the lads o Stefenbiggin,
They broke the house in at the riggin.

6
The lads o Fingland and Hellbackhill,
They were neer for good, but aye for ill.

7
Twixt the Staywood Bass and Langside Hill,
They stelld the broked cow and branded bull.

8
It is the lads o the Girthhead,
The diel’s in them for pride and greed.

9
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .

10
The Galiard is to the stable gane;
Instead of the Dun, the Blind he’s taen.

11
‘Come out now, Simmy o the Side,
Come out and see a Johnston ride!

12
‘Here’s the boniest horse in a’Nithside,
And a gentle Johnston aboon his hide.’

13
Simmy Crichton’s mounted then,
And Crichtons has raised mony a ane.

14
The Galiard thought his horse had been fleet,
But they did outstrip him quite out o sight.

15
As soon as the Galiard the Crichton he saw,
Beyond the saugh-bush he did draw.

16
The Crichtons there the Galiard hae taen,
And nane wi him but Willy alane.

17
‘O Simmy, Simmy, now let me gang,
And I vow I’ll neer do a Crichton wrang!

18
‘O Simmy, Simmy, now let me be,
And a peck o goud I’ll gie to thee!

19
‘O Simmy, Simmy, let me gang,
And my wife shall heap it wi her hand!’

20
But the Crichtons wadna let Willy bee,
But they hanged him high upon a tree.

21
O think then Will he was right wae,
When he saw his uncle guided sae.

22
‘But if ever I live Wamphray to see,
My uncle’s death revenged shall be!’

23
Back to Wamphray Willy’s gane,
And riders has raised mony a ane.

24
Saying, My lads, if ye’ll be true,
Ye’s a’be clad in the noble blue.

25
Back to Nidsdale they are gane,
And away the Crichtons’ nout they hae taen.

26
As they came out at the Wallpath-head,
The Crichtons bad them light and lead.

27
And when they came to the Biddess-burn,
The Crichtons bad them stand and turn.

28
And when they came to the Biddess-strand,
The Crichtons they were hard at hand.

29
But when they cam to the Biddess-law,
The Johnstons bad them stand and draw.

30
Out then spake then Willy Kirkhill:
‘Of fighting, lads, ye’s hae your fill.’

31
Then off his horse Willy he lap,
And a burnishd brand in his hand he took.

32
And through the Crichtons Willy he ran,
And dang them down both horse and man.

33
O but these lads were wondrous rude,
When the Biddess-burn ran three days blood!

34
‘I think, my lads, we’ve done a noble deed;
We have revengd the Galiard’s blood.

35
‘For every finger o the Galiard’s hand,
I vow this day I’ve killed a man.’

36
And hame for Wamphray they are gane,
And away the Crichtons’ nout they’ve taen.

37
‘Sin we’ve done na hurt, nor we’ll take na wrang,
But back to Wamphray we will gang.’

38
As they came in at Evanhead,
At Reaklaw-holm they spred abread.

39
‘Drive on, my lads, it will be late;
We’ll have a pint at Wamphray Gate.

40
‘For where eer I gang, or eer I ride,
The lads o Wamphr[a]y’s on my side.

41
‘For of a’the lads that I do ken,
The lads o Wamphr[a]y’s king o men.’

* * * * *

_Not divided into stanzas in the MS. Scott makes stanzas of four
lines._

3^1. Leuerhay.

_After 8 Scott inserts_:

For the Galliard, and the gay Galliard’s men,
They neer saw a horse but they made it their ain.

The Galliard to Nithside is gane,
To steal Sim Crichton’s winsome dun.

20^1. let Willy bee, _in the text_: or the Galiard, _in the
margin_.

21^1. _In the margin_: Will of Kirkhill.

38^2. Breaklaw: _changed in the MS. to_ Reaklaw.

185

DICK O THE COW

#a.# ‘An excelent old song cald Dick of the Cow.’ Percy Papers, 1775.
#b.# Caw’s Poetical Museum, p. 22, 1784. #c.# Campbell, Albyn’s
Anthology, II, 31, 1818.

#a# seems to have been communicated to Percy by Roger Halt in 1775. #b# was contributed to Caw’s Museum by John Elliot of Reidheugh, a gentleman, says Scott, well skilled in the antiquities of the western border. #c# was taken down “from the singing and recitation of a Liddesdale-man, namely, Robert Shortreed, sheriff-substitute of Roxburghshire, in the autumn of 1816;” but it differs from #b# in no important respect except the omission of thirteen stanzas, 17, 18, 24, 32, 35–38, 51, 52, 56–58.

Scott’s copy, I, 137, 1802, II, 63, 1833, is #c# with the deficient stanzas supplied from #b#. A copy in the Campbell MSS, I, 204, is #b#.

Ritson pointed out to Scott a passage in Nashe’s Have with you to Saffren Walden which shows that this ballad was popular before the end of the sixteenth century: “Dick of the Cow, that mad demi-lance northren borderer, who plaied his prizes with the lord Jockey so bravely,” 1596, in Grosart’s Nashe, III, 6.

An allusion to it likewise occurs in Parrot’s Laquei Ridiculosi, or Springes for Woodcocks, London, 1613, Epigr. 76.

Owenus wondreth, since he came to Wales,
What the description of this isle should be,
That nere had seen but mountains, hills, and dales;
Yet would he boast, and stand on pedigree
From Rice ap Richard, sprung from Dick a Cow;
Be cod, was right gud gentleman, look ye now!

Scott’s Minstrelsy, II, 62, 1833.

In a list of books printed for and sold by P. Brooksby, 1688, occurs Dick-a-the-Cow, containing north-country songs: Ritson, in Scott’s Minstrelsy, I, 223, 1833.

Two stanzas are cited in Pennant’s Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides in 1772, Part II, p. 276, ed. 1776.

Then Johnie Armstrong to Willie gan say,
‘Billie, a riding then will we;
England and us have been long at feud;
Perhaps we may hit on some bootie.’

Then they’re come on to Hutton-Ha;
They rade that proper place about;
But the laird he was the wiser man,
For he had left na geir without.