Chapter XIX: Appendix: The Lovely Northerne Lasse (3)

Such, sir, is the story that gave rise to the song you are so much
in request off, which I have gathered from Isobell Dow, and put in
order according to my weak capacity, knowing it will fall into
better and abler hands, and that, altho the song be a wanting, there
is ample mater for composition.

I remain your most Obed^t H^{le} Serv^t,

JOHN MASTERTON, for ISOBELL DOW.

P. S. I had almost forgot to mention as to the period of time when
it happened, which cannot be less than 87 years, which Isobell makes
out in the following maner; it being two years before her father and
mother was married, and that they lived together fifty-one years, it
being now thirty-four years since her mother died, which makes it to
have been about the year 1736.

J. M.

* * * * *

1
The Highlandmen hae a’ come down,
They’ve a’ come down almost,
They’ve stowen away the bonny lass,
The Lady of Arngosk.

2
They hae put on her petticoat,
Likewise her silken gown;
The Highland man he drew his sword,
Said, Follow me ye’s come.

3
Behind her back they’ve tied her hands,
An then they set her on;
‘I winna gang wi you,’ she said,
‘Nor ony Highland loon.’

225

ROB ROY

#A.# Skene MS., p. 44.

#B.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 343.

#C.# ‘Rob Roy MacGregor,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 93.

#D.# ‘Rob Roy,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No
147, Abbotsford.

#E.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 41.

#F.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Campbell MSS, II, 229.

#G.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Cromek’s Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 199.

#H.# Sir Walter Scott’s Introduction to “Rob Roy,” Appendix, No V.

#I.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Campbell’s MSS, II, 58.

#J.# ‘Rob Oig,’ A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Aungervyle
Society, 1881.

#K.# ‘Rob Roy,’ Laing’s Thistle of Scotland, p. 93.

The hero of this ballad was the youngest of the five sons of the Rob Roy who has been immortalized by Sir Walter Scott, and was known as Robert Oig, young, or junior. When a mere boy (only twelve years old, it is said) he shot a man mortally whom he considered to have intruded on his mother’s land, and for not appearing to underlie the law for this murder he was outlawed in 1736. He had fled to the continent, and there he enlisted in the British army, and was wounded and made prisoner at Fontenoy in 1745. He was exchanged, returned to Scotland and obtained a discharge from service, and, though still under ban, was able to effect a marriage with a woman of respectable family. She lived but a few years, and after her death, whether spontaneously or under the influence of his brother James, a man of extraordinary hardihood, Rob Oig formed a plan of bettering his own fortune, and incidentally that of his kin, by a marriage of the Sabine fashion with a woman of means. The person selected was Jean Key, who had been two months the widow of John Wright. She was but nineteen years of age, and was living with her mother at Edinbelly, in Stirlingshire, and her property is said to have been, not the twenty thousand pounds of some of the ballads, but some sixteen or eighteen thousand marks.

On the night of December 8, 1750, Rob Oig, accompanied by his brothers James and Duncan and others, first placing guards at the door and windows, to prevent escape from within and help from without, entered the house of Jean Key, and not finding her, because she had taken alarm and hidden herself in a closet, obliged the mother to produce her daughter, under threats “to murder every person in the family, or to burn the house and every person in it alive.” Jean Key, on being brought out, was told by James MacGregor that the party had come to marry her to Robert, his brother.” Upon her desiring to be allowed till next morning, or some few hours, to deliberate upon the answer she was to give to so unexpected and sudden a proposal as a marriage betwixt her, then not two months a widow, and a man with whom she had no manner of acquaintance,” after some little expostulation, they laid hands upon her, dragged her out of doors, tied her on the back of a horse, and carried her first to a house at Buchanan, six miles from Edinbelly, thence to Rowerdennan, “thence, by water, to some part of the Highlands about the upper part of Loch Lomond, out of the reach of her friends and relations, where she was detained in captivity and carried from place to place for upwards of three months.” At Rowerdennan, or further north, a priest read the marriage-service while the resolute James held up the young woman before him, and declared Rob Oig and her to be man and wife.

The rest of the story does not come into the ballad, but it may be added that both the military and the civil power took the matter in hand; that the MacGregors found it necessary to release their captive (who died, but not of the violence she had undergone, ten months after she was taken away); that James MacGregor was brought to trial in July, 1752, for hamesucken (invasion of a private house), forcible abduction of a woman, and constraining her to a marriage, was convicted of a part of the charge but not of the last count, and while the court had the verdict under consideration made his escape from Edinburgh castle; that Rob Oig was apprehended the following year, tried and condemned to death, and was executed in February, 1754.[126]

We may easily believe that, as Scott says, the imagination of half-civilized Highlanders was not much shocked at the idea of winning a wife in a violent way. It had been common, and they may naturally have wondered why it should seem so particular in their instance. It is certain that Jean Key did not receive the sympathy of all of her own sex. A lady of much celebrity has told us that it is safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion, and there were those in Jean Key’s day, and after, who thought it mere silliness to make a coil about a little compulsion. “It is not a great many years,” Sir Walter Scott testifies, “since a respectable woman, above the lower rank of life, expressed herself very warmly to the author on his taking the freedom to censure the behaviour of the MacGregors on the occasion in question. She said, ‘that there was no use in giving a bride too much choice upon such occasions; that the marriages were happiest lang syne which had been done off hand.’ Finally, she averred that her ‘own mother had never seen her father till the night he brought her up from the Lennox with ten head of black cattle, and there had not been a happier couple in the country.’”

The ballad adheres to fact rather closely; indeed a reasonably good “dittay” could be made out of it. The halt at Buchanan is mentioned #B# 8, #C# 10, #K# 14; the road would be through Drymen, as in #C# 10, #K# 13; and Balmaha, #H# 2, is a little beyond Buchanan. Ballyshine is substituted for Buchanan in #E# 6, #J# 4. At Buchanan, or Ballyshine (‘as they came in by Drimmen town, and in by Edingarry,’ #K# 13), a cloak and gown are bought (fetched) for the young woman to be married in, #B# 8, #C# 10, #F# 4. It is a cotton gown, #E# 6, coat and gown, #A# 8; in cotton gown she is married, #J# 4; meaning probably that she was married in a night-gown, having been roused from her bed. It is at Buchanan, or Ballyshine, that she is married. Four held her up to the priest, #A#, #C#, #F# (two, #D#, #I#, #K#, three, #E#, #J#, six, #B#), four laid her in bed, #A#, #B#, #E#, #F#, #I#, #J#, #K# (two, #C#, #D#).

Rob Roy is said to come from Drunkie (the home of his first wife), #J# 1; to come over the Loch of Lynn, #G# 2. Jean Key’s abode seems to be called White House (Wright?) in #A# 2, but Blackhills, #C# 2, and in #K# 2 Jean Key is called Blackhill’s daughter. Blackhill is apparently a corruption of Mitchell, Jean’s mother’s maiden name. The mother is called Jean Mitchell in #J# 2.

In #A# 8, Rob Roy’s party are wrongly said to tarry at Stirling. In #J# 2, Glengyle is said to go with him to steal Jean Mitchell’s daughter. Glengyle, Rob Oig’s cousin, and chief of his immediate family was, for a MacGregor, an orderly man,[127] and did not countenance the proceeding. #J# 6, 7 belong to the ballad of ‘Eppie Morrie,’ No 223.

Rob Oig puts Jean Key’s fortune at £20,000, #A# 13, #C# 19; 50,000 merks, #D# 14; 30,000, #K# 23; 20,000, which was not very far from right, #E# 10. The reading in #B# 15 is a manifest corruption of thirty thousand merks.

Old Rob Roy is in several copies spoken of as still alive. Though the time both of his birth and death is not accurately known, this was certainly not the case.

#H# is translated by Fiedler, Geschichte der schottischen Liederdichtung, I, 52.

* * * * *

A

Skene MS., p. 44; from recitation in the north of Scotland, 1802–3.

1
Rob Roy, frae the high Highlands,
Came to the Lawlan border;
It was to steel a lady away,
To keep his Highland house in order.

2
As he came in by White House,
He sent nae ane before him;
She wad hae secured the house,
For she did ay abhor him.

3
Twenty men surrount the house, an twenty they went in,
They found her wi her mither;
Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes
They parted frae ane anither.

4
‘O will ye be my dear?’ he says,
‘Or will ye be my honnie?
O will ye be my wedded wife?
I lee you best of ony.’

5
‘I winna be your dear,’ [she says,]
‘Nor will I be your honnie,
Nor will I be your wedded wife;
Ye lee me for my money.’

6
. . . . by the way,
This lady aftimes fainted;
Says, Woe be to my cursed gold,
This road for me’s invented!

7
He gave her no time for to dress
Like ladies when they’re ridin,
But set her on hie horseback,
Himsel was ay beside her.

8
Whan they came to the Black House,
And at Stirling tarried,
There he bought her coat an gown,
But she would not [be] married.

9
Four men held her to the priest,
An four they did her bed,
Wi sighs an cries an watery eyes
Whan she by him was laid.

10
‘Be content, be content,
Be content wi me, lady;
Now ye are my wedded wife
Untill the day ye die, lady.

11
‘My father was a Highlan laird,
McGrigor was his name, lady;
A’ the country roun about
They dreadit his great fame, lady.

12
‘He kept a hedge about his lands,
A prickle to his foes, lady,
An every ane that did him wrang,
He took him by the nose, lady.

13
‘My father he delights in nout and goats,
An me in horse and sheep, lady;
You an twenty thousan pounds
Makes me a man complete, lady.

14
‘You’re welcome to this Highlan lan,
It is my native plain, lady;
Think nae mair of gauin back,
But tak it for your hame, lady.

15
‘I’m gauin, [I’m gauin,]
I’m gauin to France, lady;
Whan I come back
I’ll learn ye a dance, lady.

16
‘Set your foot, [set your foot,]
Set your foot to mine, lady;
Think nae mair of gauin back,
But tak it for your hame, lady.’

* * * * *

B

Kinloch MSS, I, 343.

1
Rob Roy frae the Hielands cam
Unto the Lawland border,
And he has stown a ladie fair,
To hand his house in order.

2
He guarded the house round about,
Himsel went in and found her out,
She hung close by her mither;
Wi dolefu cries and watery eyes
They parted frae each ither.

3
‘Gang wi me, my dear,’ he says,
‘Gang and be my honey;
Gang and be my wedded wife,
I loe ye best o onie.’

4
‘I winna gang wi you,’ she says,
‘I winna be your honey;
I winna be your wedded wife;
Ye loe me for my money.’

5
He gied na her na time to dress
As ladies whan they’re brides,
But hurried her awa wi speed,
And rowd her in his plaids.

6
He gat her up upon a horse,
Himsel lap on ahind her;
And they’re awa to the Hieland hills;
Her friends they canna find her.

7
As they gaed oure the Hieland hills,
This lady aften fainted,
Saying, Wae be to my cursed gowd,
This road to me invented!

8
As they gaed oure the Hieland hills,
And at Buchanan tarried,
He bought to her baith cloak and goun,
Yet she wadna be married.

9
Six held her up afore the priest,
Four laid her in a bed, O;
Maist mournfully she wept and cried
Whan she bye him was laid, O.

10
‘O be content, be content,
Be content to stay, ladie;
For now ye are my wedded wife
Unto your dying day, ladie.

11
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,
M’Gregor was his name, ladie;
And in a’ the country whare he dwalt
He exceeded ae in fame, ladie.

12
‘He was a hedge unto his friends,
A heckle to his faes, ladie;
And ilka ane that did him wrang,
He beat him on the neis, ladie.

13
‘I’m as bold, I am as bold
As my father was afore, ladie;
Ilka ane that does me wrang
Sall feel my gude claymore, ladie.

14
‘There neer was frae Lochlomond west
That eer I did him fear, ladie;
For, if his person did escape,
I seizd upon his gear, ladie.

15
‘My father delights in horse and kye,
In sheep and goats and a’, ladie,
And thee wi me and thirty merks
Will mak me a man fu braw, ladie.

16
‘I hae been in foreign lands,
And servd the king o France, ladie;
We will get the bagpipes,
And we’ll hae a dance, ladie.’

* * * * *

C

Motherwell’s MS., p. 93.

1
Rob Roy’s from the Hielands come
Unto our Lowland border,
And he has stolen a lady away,
To keep his house in order.

2
Rob Roy’s come to Blackhill’s gate,
Twenty men his arms did carry,
And he has stolen a lady away,
On purpose her to marry.

3
None knew till he surrounded the house,
No tidings came before him,
Or else she had been gone away,
For she did still abhor him.

4
All doors and windows guarded were,
None could the plot discover;
Himself went in and found her out,
Professing how he loved her.

5
‘Come go with me, my dear,’ he said,
‘Come go with me, my honey,
And you shall be my wedded wife,
I love you best of onie.’

6
‘I will not go with you,’ she said,
‘Nor will I be your honey;
I neer shall be your wedded wife,
You love me for my money.’

7
But he her drew amongst his crew,
She holding by her mother;
With mournful cries and watery eyes
They parted from each other.

8
No time they gave her to be dressed
As ladies when they’re brides, O,
But hurried her away in haste;
They rowed her in their plaids, O.

9
As they went over hills and rocks,
The lady often fainted;
Says, Wae may it be, my cursed money,
This road to me invented!

10
They passed away by Drymen town,
And at Buchanan tarried;
They bought to her a cloak and gown,
Yet she would not be married.

11
But without consent they joined their hands;
By law ought not to carry;
The priest his zeal it was so hot
On her will he would not tarry.

12
Four held her up before the priest,
Two laid her in the bed, O;
Och, mournfully she weeped and cried
When she by him was laid, O.

13
‘Now you’re come to the Highland hills,
Out of your native clime, lady,
Never think of going back,
But take this for your hame, lady.

14
‘Be content, be content,
Be content to stay, lady;
Now ye are my wedded wife
Unto your dying day, lady.

15
‘O Rob Roy was my father called,
But McGregor was his name, lady;
In all the country far and near
None did exceed his fame, lady.

16
‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold,
I’m as bold as he, lady;
In France and Ireland I’ll dance and fight,
And from them take the gree, lady.

17
‘He was a hedge about his friends,
But a heckle to his faes, lady,
And every one that did him wrong,
He took them owre the nose, lady.

18
‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold,
I’m as bold, and more, lady;
Every one that does me wrong
Shall feel my good claymore, lady.

19
‘My father he has stots and ewes,
And he has goats and sheep, lady,
But you and twenty thousand punds
Makes me a man complete, lady.’

* * * * *

D

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 147,
Abbotsford; in a handwriting of the early part of this century.

1
Rob Roy from the Highlands came
Unto the Lowland border;
It was to steal a ladie away,
To keep his house in order.

2
He gae her nae time to dress herself
Like a lady that was to be married,
But he hoisd her out among his crew,
And rowd her in his plaidie.

3
‘Will ye go wi me, my dear?’ he says,
‘Will ye go wi me, my honey?
Will ye go wi me, my dear?’ he says,
‘For I love you best of ony.’

4
‘I winna be your dear,’ she says,
‘Nor I’ll never be your honey;
I’ll never be your wedded wife,
For you love me but for my money.’

5
He hoisd her out among his crew,
She holding by her mother;
Wi watry eyes and mournfu cries
They parted from each other.

6
As they gaed oer yon high hill,
The ladie often fainted;
‘Oh, wae be to my gold,’ she said,
‘This road for me invented!’

7
Two held her up before the priest,
And two put her to bed,
Wi mournful cries and watry eyes
As she lay by his side.

8
‘Be content, be content,
Be content wi me, ladie,
For now you are my wedded wife
Until the day ye die, ladie.

9
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,
McGrigor was his name, ladie,
And a’ the country round about
Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.

10
‘You do not think yourself a match
For such a one as I, ladie;
But I been east and I been west,
And saird the king of France, ladie.

11
‘And now we hear the bag-pipe play,
And we maun hae a dance, ladie,
And a’ the country round about
Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.

12
‘Shake your foot, shake your foot,
Shake your foot wi me, ladie,
For now you are my wedded bride
Until the day ye die, ladie.

13
‘My father dealt in cows and ewes,
Likewise in goats and sheep, ladie,
And a’ the country round about
Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.

14
‘And ye have fifty thousand marks,
Makes me a man compleat, ladie;
Why mayn’t I maid
May I not ride in state, ladie?

15
‘My father was a Highland laird,
Altho he be now dead, ladie,
And a’ the country round about
Has heard of Roy’s fame, ladie.’

* * * * *

E

Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 41; “from tradition (Widow Stevenson).”

1
Rob Roy from the Highlands cam
Unto our Scottish border,
And he has stown a lady fair,
To hand his house in order.

2
And when he cam he surrounded the house;
Twenty men their arms did carry;
And he has stown this lady fair,
On purpose her for to marry.

3
And whan he cam he surrounded the house;
No tidings there cam before him,
Or else the lady would have been gone,
For still she did abhor him.

4
Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes,
Fast hauding by her mother,
Wi murnfu cries and watery eyes
They parted frae each other.

5
Nae time he gied her to be dressed
As ladys do when they’re bride, O,
But he hastened and hurried her awa,
And he rowd her in his plaid, O.

6
They rade till they cam to Ballyshine,
At Ballyshine they tarried;
He bought to her a cotton gown,
Yet would she never be married.

7
Three held her up before the priest,
Four carried her to bed, O,
Wi watery eyes and murnfu sighs
When she behind was laid, O.

8
‘O be content, be content,
Be content to stay, lady,
For you are my wedded wife
Unto my dying day, lady.
Be content, _etc._

9
‘My father is Rob Roy called,
MacGregor is his name, lady;
In all the country whare he dwells,
He does succeed the fame, lady.
Be content, _etc._

10
‘My father he has cows and ewes,
And goats he has anew, lady,
And you and twenty thousand merks
Will mak me a man complete, lady.’
Be content, _etc._

* * * * *

F

Campbell MSS, II, 229.

1
Rob Roy frae the Highlands came
Unto the Lawland border,
And he has stolen a lady away,
To hand his house in order.

2
He’s pu’d her out amang his men,
She holding by her mother;
With mournfu cries and watery eyes
They parted frae each other.

3
When they came to the heigh hill-gate,
O it’s aye this lady fainted:
‘O wae! what has that cursed monie
That’s thrown to me invented?’

4
When they came to the heigh hill-gate,
And at Buchanan tarried,
They fetchd to her a cloak and gown,
Yet wad she not be married.

5
Four held her up before the priest,
Four laid her on her bed,
With mournfu cries and watery eyes
When she by him was laid.

6
‘I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind,
I’ll be kind to thee, lady,
And all the country for thy sake
Shall surely favoured be, lady.

7
‘Be content, be content,
Be content and stay, lady;
Now ye are my weded wife
Until your dying-day, ladie.

8
‘Rob Roy was my father called,
McGregor was his name, lady;
In every country where he was,
He did exceed the fame, lady.

9
‘He was a hedge about his friends,
A terror to his foes, lady,
And every one that did him wrong,
He hit them oer the nose, lady.

10
‘Be content, be content,
Be content and stay, lady;
Now ye are my wedded wife
Until your dying-day, lady.

11
‘We will go, we will go,
We will go to France, lady,
Where I before for safety fled,
And there wee’l get a dance, lady.

12
‘Shake a fit, shake a fit,
Shake a fit to me, lady;
Now ye are my wedded wife
Until your dying-day, lady.

* * * * *

G

Cromek, Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 194, 199; sent by Burns to
William Tytler, in a letter.

1
Rob Roy from the Highlands cam
Unto the Lawlan border,
To steal awa a gay ladie,
To hand his house in order.

2
He cam owre the Lock o Lynn,
Twenty men his arms did carry;
Himsel gaed in an fand her out,
Protesting he would marry.

3
‘O will ye gae wi me’? he says,
‘Or will ye be my honey?
Or will ye be my wedded wife?
For I love you best of any.’

4
‘I winna gae wi you,’ she says,
‘Nor will I be your honey,
Nor will I be your wedded wife;
You love me for my money.’

* * * * * *

5
But he set her on a coal-black steed,
Himsel lap on behind her,
An he’s awa to the Highland hills,
Whare her friens they canna find her.

* * * * * *

6
‘Rob Roy was my father ca’d,
MacGregor was his name, ladie;
He led a band o heroes bauld,
An I am here the same, ladie.

7
‘Be content, be content,
Be content to stay, ladie;
For thou art my wedded wife
Until thy dying day, ladie.

8
‘He was a hedge unto his friens,
A heckle to his foes, ladie,
Every one that durst him wrang,
He took him by the nose, ladie.

9
‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold,
I’m as bold, an more, ladie;
He that daurs dispute my word
Shall feel my guid claymore, ladie.’

* * * * *

H

Sir Walter Scott’s Introduction to his novel “ Rob Roy,” Appendix,
No V, Waverley Novels, Cadell, 1846, VII, cxxxiii; “from memory.”

1
Rob Roy is frae the Hielands come
Down to the Lowland border,
And he has stolen that lady away,
To haud his house in order.

2
He set her on a milk-white steed,
Of none he stood in awe,
Untill they reached the Hieland hills,
Aboon the Balmaha.

3
Saying, Be content, be content,
Be content with me, lady;
Where will ye find in Lennox land
Sae braw a man as me, lady?

4
‘Rob Roy he was my father called,
MacGregor was his name, lady;
A’ the country, far and near,
Have heard MacGregor’s fame, lady.

5
‘He was a hedge about his friends,
A heckle to his foes, lady;
If any man did him gainsay,
He felt his deadly blows, lady.

6
‘I am as bold, I am as bold,
I am as bold, and more, lady;
Any man that doubts my word
May try my gude claymore, lady.

7
‘Then be content, be content,
Be content with me, lady,
For now you are my wedded wife
Until the day ye die, lady.’

* * * * *

I

Campbell MSS, II, 58.

1
Rob Roy is frae the Highlands come
Unto the Scottish border,
And he has stolen a lady gay,
To keep his house in order.

2
He and his crew surrounded the house;
No tidings came before him,
Or else I’m sure she wad been gone,
For she did still abhore him.

3
He drew her thro amang his crew,
She holding by her mother;
With watery eyes and mournfu cries
They parted from each other.

4
He’s set her on a milk-white steed,
Himself jumped on behind her,
And he’s awa to the Highland hills,
And her friends they couldna find her.

5
‘O be content, be content,
O be content and stay, lady,
And never think of going back
Until your dying day, lady.’

6
As they went over hills and dales,
This lady oftimes fainted;
Cries, Wae be to that cursed money
This road to me invented!

7
‘O dinna think, O dinna think,
O dinna think to ly, lady;
O think na ye yersell weel matchd
On sic a lad as me, lady?

8
‘What think ye o my coal-black hair,
But and my twinkling een, lady,
A little bonnet on my head,
And cocket up aboon, lady?

9
‘O dinna think, O dinna think,
O dinna think to ly, lady;
O think nae ye yersell weel matchd
On sic a lad as me, lady?

10
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,
But Gregory was his name, lady;
There was neither duke nor lord
Could eer succeed his fame, lady.

11
‘O may not I, may not I,
May not I succeed, lady?
My old father did so design;
O now but he is dead, lady.

12
‘My father was a hedge about his friends,
A heckle to his foes, lady,
And every one that did him wrang,
He hit them oer the nose, lady.

13
‘I [’m] as bold, I [’m] as bold,
I [’m] as bold, and more, lady,
And every one that does me wrong
Shall feel my good claymore, lady.

14
‘You need not fear our country cheer,
Ye’se hae good entertain, lady;
For ye shall hae a feather-bed,
Both lang and broad and green, lady.

15
‘Come, be content, come, be content,
Come, be content and stay, lady,
And never think of going back
Until yer dying day, lady.’

16
Twa held her up before the priest,
Four laid her in her bed,
And sae mournfully she weeping cry’d
When she by him was laid!

17
‘Come, dinna think, come, dinna think,
Come, dinna think to ly, lady;
You’ll surely think yersell weel matchd
On sic a lad as me, lady.

18
‘Come, be content, come, be content,
Come, be content and stay, lady,
And never think of going back
Until your dying day, lady.’

* * * * *

J

A Garland of Old Historical Ballads, p. 10, Aungervyle Society,
1881, from a manuscript which had belonged to Maidment.

1
From Drunkie in the Highlands,
With four and twenty men,
Rob Oig is cam, a lady fair
To carry from the plain.

2
Glengyle and James with him are cam,
To steal Jean Mitchell’s dauchter,
And they have borne her far away,
To haud his house in order.

3
And he has taen Jean Key’s white hand,
And torn her grass-green sleeve,
And rudely tyed her on his horse,
At her friends asked nae leave.

4
They rode till they cam to Ballyshine,
At Ballyshine they tarried;
Nae time he gave her to be dressed,
In cotton gown her married.

5
Three held her up before the priest,
Four carried her to bed, O;
Wi watery eyes and mournfu sighs
She in bed wi Rob was laid, O.

6
‘Haud far awa from me, Rob Oig,
Haud far awa from me!
Before I lose my maidenhead,
I’ll try my strength with thee.’

7
She’s torn the cap from off her head
And thrown it to the way,
But ere she lost her maidenhead
She fought with him till day.

8
‘Wae fa, Rob Oig, upon your head!
For you have ravished me,
And taen from me my maidenhead;
O would that I could dee!’

9
‘My father he is Rob Roy called,
And he has cows and ewes,
And you are now my wedded wife,
And can nae longer chuse.’

* * * * *

K

Laing’s Thistle of Scotland, p. 93; compounded, with some
alterations, from two copies, one from Miss Harper, Kildrummy, the
other from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket.

1
Rob Roy frae the Highlands came
Doun to our Lowland border;
It was to steal a lady away,
To haud his house in order.

2
With four-and-twenty Highland men,
His arms for to carry,
He came to steal Blackhill’s daughter,
That lady for to marry.

3
Nae are kend o his comming,
Nae tiddings came before him,
Else the lady woud hae been away,
For still she did abhore him.

4
They guarded doors and windows round,
Nane coud their plot discover;
Rob Roy enterd then alane,
Expressing how he lovd her.

5
‘Come go with me, my dear,’ he said,
‘Come go with me, my honey,
And ye shall be my wedded wife,
For I love you best of any.’

6
‘I will not go with you,’ she said,
‘I’ll never be your honey;
I will not be your wedded wife,
Your love is for my money.’

7
They woud noc stay till she was drest
As ladies when thei’r brides, O,
But hurried her awa in haste,
And rowd her in their plaids, O.

8
He drew her out among his crew,
She holding by her mother;
With mournful cries and watry eyes
They parted from each other.

9
He placed her upon a steed,
Then jumped on behind her,
And they are to the Highlands gone,
Her friends they cannot find her.

10
With many a heavy sob and wail,
They saw, as they stood by her,
She was so guarded round about
Her friends could not come nigh her.

11
Her mournful cries were often heard,
But no aid came unto her;
They guarded her on every side
That they could not rescue her.

12
Over rugged hills and dales
They rode; the lady fainted;
Cried, Woe be to my cursed gold
That has such roads invented!

13
As they came in by Drimmen town
And in by Edingarry,
He bought to her both cloak and gown,
Still thinking she would marry.

14
As they went down yon bonny burn-side,
They at Buchanan tarried;
He clothed her there as a bride,
Yet she would not be married.

15
Without consent they joind their hands,
Which law ought not to carry;
His passion waxed now so hot
He could no longer tarry.

16
Two held her up before the priest,
Four laid her in the bed then,
With sighs and cries and watery eyes
When she was laid beside him.

17
‘Ye are come to our Highland hills,
Far frae thy native clan, lady;
Never think of going back,
But take it for thy home, lady.

18
‘I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind,
I’ll be kind to thee, lady;
All the country, for thy sake,
Shall surely favourd be, lady.

19
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,
MacGregor was his name, lady,
And all the country where he dwelt
He did exceed for fame, lady.

20
‘Now or then, now or then,
Now or then deny, lady;
Don’t you think yourself well of
With a pretty man like I, lady?

21
‘He was a hedge about his friends,
A heckle to his foes, lady,
And all that did him any wrong,
He took them by the nose, lady.

22
‘Don’t think, don’t think,
Don’t think I lie, lady,
Ye may know the truth by what
Was done in your country, lady.

23
‘My father delights in cows and horse,
Likewise in goats and sheep, lady,
And you with thirty thousand marks
Makes me a man complete, lady.

24
‘Be content, be content,
Be content and stay, lady;
Now ye are my wedded wife
Untill your dying day, lady.

25
‘Your friends will all seek after me,
But I’ll give them the scorn, lady;
Before dragoons come oer the Forth,
We shall be doun by Lorn, lady.

26
‘I am bold, I am bold,
But bolder than before, lady;
Any one dare come this way
Shall feel my good claymore, lady.

27
‘We shall cross the raging seas,
We shall go to France, lady;
There we’ll gar the piper play,
And then we’ll have a dance, lady.

28
‘Shake a foot, shake a foot,
Shake a foot wi me, lady,
And ye shall be my wedded wife
Until the day ye die, lady.’

* * * * *

#A.#

6^{1,2}. _In one line_: By the way this lady aftimes fainted.
_Cf._ #B# 7, #C# 9, _etc._

12^2. prickle: _a bad reading for_ heckle.

15, 16. _Each written in two lines in the MS._

#B.#

15^3. wi me and thirty merks. _Corrupted from_ wi, _or_ and,
thirty thousand merks: _cf._ #K#, 23^8.

#C.#

“Tune, Gipsy Laddy,” 1–12.

13. “Tune changes to Haud awa fra me, Donald.”

14, 16, 18 _are written as a burden to the stanzas preceding_
them.

7^8. weepin _originally written for_ watery, _and erased_.

18^2. as bold I’ll roar: more _written over_ roar.

#D.#

_After 7_: Answer to Rob Roy. 8–15 _are written in four stanzas of
long lines_.

9^4. Rob _struck out before_ Roy’s.

#E.#

“The first part [1–7] is sung to the air of Bonny House of Airly,
and the last, Haud awa frae me, Donald.”

7^4. was laid behind, O: behind _wrongly for_ by him. _Cf._ A 9^4,
_etc._

9^4. succeed the fame. _So_ #I# 10 _nearly_: #F# 8 did exceed the
fame. _This line evidently troubled reciters. Another set, says
Pitcairn, gives_. It did exceed the same. #B# 11, #C# 15, #K# 19
_have a reading which we may take to be near the original_.

#F.#

1^4. To keep (haud).

#G.#

_In stanzas of eight lines._ “Tune, a rude set of Mill, Mill O.”
_After 4_: “The song went on to narrate the forcing her to bed;
when the tune changes to something like Jenny dang the weaver.”

#I.#

12^4. _As a variation, but wrongly_ (_see_ 13^4), Did feel his
good claymore, lady.

#J.#

“I had the first copy from Miss Harper, Kildrummy; but fearing
imperfections, I made application, and by chance got another
copy from the Rev. R. Scott, Glenbucket. These I blended
together and formed a very good copy; but I have taken the
liberty of altering the order of some of the stanzas, and in
particular, taking out the ninth and making it the eleventh, and
changing some of the words to make it more agreeable.” p. 97.
_Original readings in 2^2, specified by Laing, have been
restored, and his 11 put back to 9. What follows 16 has the
title_, Variation.

226

LIZIE LINDSAY

#A.# ‘Lizie Lindsay.’ #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. ii. #b.#
Jamieson’s Popular Ballads. II, 149.

#B.# ‘Donald of the Isles,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 237. Aytoun’s Ballads of
Scotland, 1859, I, 277.

#C.# ‘Donald of the Isles,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 253.

#D.# ‘Lizzy Lindsay,’ from a Note-Book of Dr Joseph Robertson,
January, 1830, No 6.

#E.# ‘Bonny Lizie Lindsay,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland,
II, 102.

#F.# ‘Lizzie Lindsay,’ Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 51.

#G.# ‘Leezie Lindsay,’ Notes and Queries, Third Series, I, 463.

Of #A# a Professor Robert Scott says, in the letter in which it was enclosed: “You will find above, all I have been able to procure in order to replace the lost fragment of ‘Lizie Lindsay.’ I believe it is not so correct or so complete as what was formerly sent, but there are materials enough to operate upon, and by forcing the memory of the recorder more harm than good might have been done.” Jamieson says of #b#: “Transmitted to the editor by Professor Scott of Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an old woman.[128] It is very popular in the northeast[north-east] of Scotland, and was familiar to the editor in his early youth; and from the imperfect recollection which he still retains of it he has corrected the text in two or three unimportant passages.”

There is nothing to show whether the lost copy was recovered, unless it be the fact that Jamieson prints about twice as many stanzas as there are in #a#. But Jamieson was not always precise in the account he gave of the changes he made in his texts.

In his preface to #B#, Kinloch remarks that the ballad is very popular in the North, “and few milk-maids in that quarter but can chaunt it, to a very pleasant tune. Lizie Lindsay,” he adds, “according to the tradition of Mearnsshire, is said to have been a daughter of Lindsay of Edzell; but I have searched in vain for genealogical confirmation of the tradition.” Kinloch gave Aytoun a copy of this version, changing a few phrases, and inserting st. 20 of #C#.

The following stanza, printed as No 434 of the Musical Museum, was sent with the air to Johnson by Burns, who intended to communicate something more. (Museum, 1853, IV, 382):

Will ye go to the Highlands, Leezie Lindsay?
Will ye go to the Highlands wi me?
Will ye go to the Highlands, Leezie Lindsay,
My pride and my darling to be?

Robert Allan added three stanzas to this, Smith’s Scotish Minstrel, II, 100, and again, p. 101 of the same, others (in which Lizie Lindsay is, without authority, made ‘a puir lassie’). The second stanza of the second “set” is traditional (cf. #B# 8, #C# 6, #D# 6, #E# 8):

To gang to the Hielands wi you, sir,
I dinna ken how that may be,
For I ken nae the road I am gaeing,
Nor yet wha I’m gaun wi.

Donald MacDonald, heir of Kingcausie, wishes to go to Edinburgh for a wife (or to get Lizie Lindsay for his wife). His mother consents, on condition that he shall use no flattery, and shall ‘court her in great poverty’ (policy, #D#). He sees many bonny young ladies at Edinburgh, but Lizie Lindsay is above compare with others. He presents himself to her in simple Highland garb; what he can offer is a diet of curds and whey and a bed of green rushes (bracken). Lizie would like to know where she would be going, and with whom. His father is an old shepherd (couper, souter), his mother an old dey, and his name is Donald MacDonald. Lizie’s father and mother threaten to have him hanged, which daunts him not in the least. Her maid warmly seconds the suit. Lizie packs up her clothes and sets forth with Donald to foot the steep and dirty ways; she wishes herself back in Edinburgh. They come at last to a shieling, where a woman welcomes Sir Donald; he bids her call him Donald her son, and orders a supper of curds and whey, and a bed of green rushes. Lizie, ‘weary with travel,’ lies late in the morning, and is roused as if to help at the milking; this makes her repine again. But Donald takes her out of the hut and shows her Kingcausie, where she is to be lady.

Kingcausie is some seven miles from Aberdeen, on the south side of the Dee.

Ballads of this description are peculiarly liable to interpolation and debasement, and there are two passages, each occurring in several versions, which we may, without straining, set down to some plebeian improver.

In #B# 10, #D# 10, #E# 19, Lizie Lindsay, not quite ready to go with Donald, makes him an offer of five or ten guineas if he will stay long enough for her to take his picture, ‘to keep her from thinking long.’ In #F# 11 Donald makes the same offer for her picture. In #E# 10, #F# 6, Lizie tells Donald, who has asked where she lives, that if he will call at the Canongate Port, she will drink a bottle of sherry with him, and in the next stanza she is as good as her word. This convivial way of the young ladies of Edinburgh is, owing to an injury to the text, not perceptible in #D# 14, where Donald seems to be inviting Lizie’s mother to bring a bottle of sherry with her in case she should call on him at the Canongate Port.

#A b# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 122; by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder der Vorzeit, p. 125, with deficient verses supplied from #F#. Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 158, translates Allingham’s ballad.

* * * * *

A

#a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. ii, as sent Jamieson by
Professor Scott of Aberdeen, June 9, 1805. b. Jamieson’s Popular
Ballads, 1806, II, 149, “transmitted to the editor by Professor
Scott of Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an
old woman,” but “corrected” from Jamieson’s recollection in two or
three passages.

* * * * *

1
Out it spake Lizee Linzee,
The tear blinket in her ee;
How can I leave father and mother,
Along with young Donald to gae!

2
Out spoke Lizee’s young handmaid,
A bonny young lassie was she;
Said, Were I heress to a kingdom,
Along with young Donald I’d ga.

3
‘O say ye so to me, Nelly?
O say ye so to me?
Must I leave Edinburgh city,
To the high Highland to gae?’

4
Out spoke Lizie’s own mother,
A good old lady was she;
If you speak such a word to my dochter,
I’ll gar hang [you] hi.

5
‘Keep well your dochter from me, madam.
Keep well your dochter fa me;
For I care as little for your dochter
As ye can care for me.’

6
The road grew wetty and dubby,
And Lizee began to think lang;
Said, I wish had staid with my mother,
And nae wi young Donald had gane.

7
‘You’r welcome hame, Sir Donald,
You’r thrice welcome to me;
You’r welcome hame, Sir Donald,
And your young lady you wi.’

8
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘Ye call na me Sir Donald,
But ca me Donald your son.’

9
‘Rise up, Lizee Linzee,
You [have] lain too long in the day;
Ye might have helped my mother
To milch her goats and her kie.’

10
Out it spake Lizee Linzee,
The tear blinket in her eye;
‘The ladys of Edinb_u_r_gh_ city,
They neither milch goats nor kie.’

* * * * *

B

Kinloch MSS, I, 237, from Miss Catherine Beattie, Mearnsshire.

1
It’s of a young lord o the Hielands,
A bonnie braw castle had he,
And he says to his lady mither,
‘My boon ye will grant to me:
Sail I gae to Edinbruch city,
And fesh hame a lady wi me?’

2
‘Ye may gae to Edinbruch city,
And fesh hame a lady wi thee,
But see that ye bring her but flattrie,
And court her in grit povertie.’

3
‘My coat, mither, sall be o the plaiden,
A tartan kilt oure my knee,
Wi hosens and brogues and the bonnet;
I’ll court her wi nae flattrie.’

4
Whan he cam to Edinbruch city,
He playd at the ring and the ba,
And saw monie a bonnie young ladie,
But Lizie Lindsay was first o them a’.

5
Syne, dressd in his Hieland grey plaiden,
His bonnet abune his ee-bree,
He called on fair Lizie Lindsay;
Says, Lizie, will ye fancy me?

6
‘And gae to the Hielands, my lassie,
And gae, gae wi me?
O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay,
I’ll feed ye on curds and green whey.

7
‘And ye’se get a bed o green bracken,
My plaidie will hap thee and me;
Ye’se lie in my arms, bonnie Lizie,
If ye’ll gae to the Hielands wi me.’

8
‘O how can I gae to the Hielands,
Or how can I gae wi thee,
Whan I dinna ken whare I’m gaing,
Nor wha I hae to gae wi?’

9
‘My father, he is an auld shepherd,
My mither, she is an auld dey;
My name it is Donald Macdonald,
My name I’ll never deny.’

10
‘O Donald, I’ll gie ye five guineas
To sit ae hour in my room,
Till I tak aff your ruddy picture;
Whan I hae’t, I’ll never think lang.’

11
‘I dinna care for your five guineas;
It’s ye that’s the jewel to me;
I’ve plenty o kye in the Hielands,
To feed ye wi curds and green whey.

12
‘And ye’se get a bonnie blue plaidie,
Wi red and green strips thro it a’;
And I’ll be the lord o your dwalling,
And that’s the best picture ava.

13
‘And I am laird o a’ my possessions;
The king canna boast o na mair;
And ye’se hae my true heart in keeping,
There’ll be na ither een hae a share.

14
‘Sae gae to the Hielands, my lassie,
O gae awa happy wi me;
O gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay,
And hird the wee lammies wi me.’

15
‘O how can I gae wi a stranger,
Oure hills and oure glens frae my hame?’
‘I tell ye I am Donald Macdonald;
I’ll ever be proud o my name.’

16
Doun cam Lizie Lindsay’s ain father,
A knicht o a noble degree;
Says, If ye do steal my dear daughter,
It’s hangit ye quickly sall be.

17
On his heel he turnd round wi a bouncie,
And a licht lauch he did gie:
‘There’s nae law in Edinbruch city
This day that can dare to hang me.’

18
Then up bespak Lizie’s best woman,
And a bonnie young lass was she;
‘Had I but a mark in my pouchie,
It’s Donald that I wad gae wi.’

19
‘O Helen, wad ye leave your coffer,
And a’ your silk kirtles sae braw,
And gang wi a bare-houghd puir laddie,
And leave father, mither, and a’?

20
‘But I think he’s a witch or a warlock,
Or something o that fell degree,
For I’ll gae awa wi young Donald,
Whatever my fortune may be.’

21
Then Lizie laid doun her silk mantle,
And put on her waiting-maid’s goun,
And aff and awa to the Hielands
She’s gane wi this young shepherd loun.

22
Thro glens and oure mountains they wanderd,
Till Lizie had scantlie a shoe;
‘Alas and ohone!’ says fair Lizie,
‘Sad was the first day I saw you!
I wish I war in Edinbruch city;
Fu sair, sair this pastime I rue.’

23
‘O haud your tongue now, bonnie Lizie,
For yonder’s the shieling, my hame;
And there’s my guid auld honest mither,
That’s coming to meet ye her lane.’

24
‘O ye’re welcome, ye’re welcome, Sir Donald,
Ye’re welcome hame to your ain.’
‘O ca me na young Sir Donald,
But ca me Donald my son;’
And this they hae spoken in Erse,
That Lizie micht not understand.

25 The day being weetie and daggie,
They lay till ’twas lang o the day:
‘Win up, win up, bonnie Lizie,
And help at the milking the kye.’

26
O slowly raise up Lizie Lindsay,
The saut tear blindit her ee:
‘O, war I in Edinbruch city,
The Hielands shoud never see me!’

27
He led her up to a hie mountain
And bade her look out far and wide:
‘I’m lord o thae isles and thae mountains,
And ye’re now my beautiful bride.

28
‘Sae rue na ye’ve come to the Hielands,
Sae rue na ye’ve come aff wi me,
For ye’re great Macdonald’s braw lady,
And will be to the dav that ye dee.’

* * * * *

C

Kinloch MSS, I, 253; from the recitation of Mrs Bouchart, of Dundee.

1
What wad ye gie to me, mither,
What wad ye gie to me,
If I wad gae to Edinbruch city
And bring hame Lizie Lindsey to thee?’

2
‘Meikle wad I gie to thee, Donald,
Meikle wad I gie to thee,
If ye wad gang to Edinbruch city
And court her as in povertie.’

3
Whan he cam to Edinbruch city,
And there a while to resort,
He called on fair Lizie Lindsey,
Wha lived at the Canongate-Port.

4
‘Will ye gang to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsey?
Will ye gae to the Hielands wi me?
And I will gie ye a cup o the curds,
Likewise a cup of green whey.

5
‘And I will gie ye a bed o green threshes,
Likewise a happing o grey,
If ye will gae to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsey,
If ye’ll gae to the Hielands wi me.’

6
‘How can I gang?’ says Lizie Lindsey,
‘How can I gang wi thee?
I dinna ken whare I am gaing,
Nor wha I am gaing wi.’

7
‘My father is a cowper o cattle,
My mither is an auld dey;
My name is Donald Macdonald,
My name I’ll never deny.’

8
Doun cam Lizie Lindsey’s father,
A revrend auld gentleman was he:
‘If ye steal awa my dochter,
Hie hanged ye sall be.’

9
He turned him round on his heel
And [a] licht lauch gied he:
‘There is na law in a’ Edinbruch city
This day that can hang me.’

10
It’s doun cam Lizie’s hand-maid,
A bonnie young lass was she:
‘If I had ae crown in a’ the warld,
Awa wi that fellow I’d gae.’

11
‘Do ye say sae to me, Nelly?
Do ye say sae to me?
Wad ye leave your father and mither,
And awa wi that fellow wad gae?’

12
She has kilted her coats o green silk
A little below her knee,
And she’s awa to the Hielands wi Donald,
To bear him companie.

13
And whan they cam to the vallies
The hie hills war coverd wi snow,
Which caused monie a saut tear
From Lizie’s een to flow.

14
‘O, gin I war in Edinbruch city,
And safe in my ain countrie,
O, gin I war in Edinbruch city,
The Hielands shoud never see me.’

15
‘O haud your tongue, Lizie Lindsey,
Na mair o that let me see;
I’ll tak ye back to Edinbruch city,
And safe to your ain countrie.’

16
‘Though I war in Edinbruch city,
And safe in my ain countrie,
Though I war in Edinbruch city,
O wha wad care for me!’

17
Whan they cam to the shiels o Kilcushneuch,
Out there cam an auld dey:
‘Ye’re welcome here, Sir Donald,
You and your lady gay.’

18
‘Ca me na mair Sir Donald,
But ca me Donald your son,
And I’ll ca ye my auld mither,
Till the lang winter nicht is begun.’

19
‘A’ this was spoken in Erse,
That Lizie micht na ken;
A’ this was spoken in Erse,
And syne the broad English began.

20
‘Ye’ll gae and mak to our supper
A cup o the curds and whey,
And ye’ll mak a bed o green threshes,
Likewise a happing o grey.’

* * * * * *

21
‘Won up, won up, Lizie Lindsey,
Ye’ve lain oure lang in the day;
Ye micht hae been helping my mither
To milk the ewes and the kye.’