Chapter XXIV: Appendix (2)

13
That lady lookd out at her closet-window,
An she thought she saw him coming:
‘Go fetch to me some fine Spanish wine,
That I may drink his health that’s a coming.’

14
Stately, stately steppit she doun
To welcome her lord from London,
An as she walked through the close
She’s peed him from his horse.

15
‘Ye’re welcome, ye’re welcome, my dearest dear,
Ye’re three times welcome from London!’
‘If I be as welcome as ye say,
Ye’ll kiss me for my coming;
Come kiss me, come kiss me, my dearest dear,
Come kiss me, my bonny Peggy Harboun.’

16
O she threw her arms aroun his neck,
To kiss him for his coming:
‘If I had stayed another day,
I’d been in love wie another woman.’

17
She turned her about wie a very stingy look,
She was as sorry as any woman;
She threw a napkin out-oure her face,
Says, Gang kiss your whore at London.

18
‘Ye’ll mount an go, my gallan grooms a’,
Ye’ll mount and back again to London;
Had I known this to be the answer my Meggy’s gein me,
I had stayed some longer at London.’

19
‘Go, Jack, my livery boy,’ she says,
‘Go ask if he’ll take me wie him;
An he shall hae nae cumre o me
But mysel an my waiting-woman.’

20
‘O the laus o London the’re very severe,
They are not for a woman;
An ye are too low in coach for to ride,
I’m your humble servant, madam.

21
‘My friends they were a’ angry at me
For marrying ane o the house o Harvey;
And ye are too low in coach for to ride,
I’m your humble servant, lady.

22
‘Go saddle for me my steeds,’ he says,
‘Go saddle them soon and softly,
For I maun awa to the Bogs o the Geich,
An speak wi the Marquess o Huntly.’

23
The guid Earl o Boyn’s awa to London gone,
An a’ his gallan gro[o]ms wie him;
But his lady fair he’s left behind
Both a sick an a sorry woman.

24
O many were the letters she after him did send,
A’ the way back again to London,
An in less than a twelvemonth her heart it did break,
For the loss o her lord at London.

25
He was not won well to the Bogs o the Geich,
Nor his horses scarcely batit,
Till the letters and the senes they came to his hand
That his lady was newly strickit.

26
‘O is she dead? or is she sick?
O woe’s me for my coming!
I’d rather a lost a’ the Bogs o the Geich
Or I’d lost my bonny Peggy Harboun.’

27
He took the table wi his foot,
Made a’ the room to tremble:
‘I’d rather a lost a’ the Bogs o the Geich
Or I’d lost my bonny Peggy Harboun.

28
‘Oh an alas! an O woe’s me!
An wo to the Marquess o Huntly.
Wha causd the Earl o Boyn prove sae very unkin
To a true an a beautifu lady!’

29
There were fifteen o the bravest gentlemen,
An the bravest o the lords o London,
They went a’ to attend her burial-day,
But the Earl o Boyn could not go wi them.

* * * * *

E

Harris MS., fol. 21 b; from the recitation of Mrs Harris.

1
‘My maidens fair, yoursels prepare.’

2
You may weel knaw by her hair, wi the diamonds sae rare,
That the Earl of Aboyne was comin.

3
‘My minstrels all, be at my call,
Haud a’ your rooms a ringin,
. . . . . . .
For the Earl of Aboyne is comin.’

4
‘Tomorrow soud hae been my bonnie waddin-day,
If I had staid in London.’

5
She turned her aboot wi an angry look,
An sic an angry woman!
‘Gin tomorrow soud hae been your bonnie waddin-day,
Gae back to your miss in Lunnon.’

6
For mony a day an year that lady lived in care,
An doctors wi her dealin,
Till just in a crack her very heart did brak,
An her letters went on to Lunnon.

7
There waur four-an-twenty o the noblest lords
That Lonnon could aford him,
A’ clead in black frae the saidle to the hat,
To convey the corpse o Peggy Ewan.

8
‘I’d rather hae lost a’ the lands o Aboyne
Than lost my pretty Peggy Ewan.’

* * * * *

F

Motherwell’s MS., p. 635; “from the recitation of Margaret Black,
wife of Archie Black, sailor in Ayr, a native of Aberdeenshire.”

1
The Earl of Aboyne is to London gane,
And a’ his nobles with him;
He’s left his lady him behin,
He’s awa, to remain in Lundon.

2
She’s called upon her waiting-maid
To busk her in her claithin;
Her sark was o cambrick very fine,
And her bodice was the red buckskin.

3
Her stockings were o silk sae fine,
And her shoon o the fine cordan;
Her coat was o the guid green silk,
Turnit up wi a siller warden.

4
Her goun was also o the silk,
Turned up wi a siller warden,
And stately tripped she doun the stair,
As she saw her gude lord comin.

5
She gaed thro the close and grippit his horse,
Saying, Ye’re welcome hame frae London!
‘Gin that be true, come kiss me now,
Come kiss me for my coming.

6
‘For blythe and cantie may ye be,
And thank me for my comin,
For the morn would hae been my wedding-day
Had I remained in London.’

7
She turnd her richt and round about,
She was a waefu woman:
‘Gin the morn would hae been your weddin-day,
Gae kiss your whores in London.’

8
He turned him richt and round about,
He was sorry for his comin:
‘Loup on your steeds, ye nobles a’,
The morn we’ll dine in London.’

9
She lived a year in meikle wae,
And the doctors dealin wi her;
At lang and last her heart it brast
And the letters gade to London.

10
And when he saw the seals o black,
He fell in a deadly weeping;
He said, She’s dead whom I loed best,
And she had my heart in keeping.

11
‘Loup on your steeds, ye nobles a’,
I’m sorry for our comin;
Frae our horse to our hat, we’ll gae in black,
And we’ll murn for Peggy Irwine.’

12
They rade on but stap or stay
Till they came to her father’s garden,
Whare fifty o the bravest lords
Were convoying Peggy Irwine.

* * * * *

G

Motherwell’s MS., p. 131.

1
The Earl Aboyne to London has gane,
And all his nobles with him;
For a’ the braw ribbands he wore at his hat,
He has left his lady behind him.

2
She’s called on her little foot-page,
And Jean, her gentlewoman;
Said, Fill to me a full pint of wine,
And I’ll drink it at my lord’s coming.

3
‘You’re welcome, you’re welcome, you’re welcome,’ she says,
‘You’re welcome home from London!’
‘If I be welcome as you now say,
Come kiss me, my bonnie Peggy Irvine.

4
‘Come kiss me, come kiss me, my lady,’ he says,
‘Come kiss me for my coming,
For the morn should hae been my wedding-day,
Had I staid any longer in London.’

5
She turned about with an angry look,
Said, Woe’s me for your coming!
If the morn should hae been your wedding-day,
Go back to your whore in London.

6
He’s called on his little foot-page,
Said, Saddle both sure and swiftly,
And I’l away to the Bogs o the Gay,
And speak wi the Marquis o Huntly.

7
She has called on her little foot-page,
Said, See if he’ll take me with him;
And he shall hae nae mair cumber o me
But mysell and my servant-woman.

8
‘O London streets they are too strait,
They are not for a woman,
And it is too low to ride in coach wi me
With your humble servant-woman.’

9
He had not been at the Bogs o the Gay,
Nor yet his horse was baited,
Till a boy with a letter came to his hand
That his lady was lying streekit.

10
‘O woe! O woe! O woe!’ he says,
‘O woe’s me for my coming!
I had rather lost the Bogs o the Gay
Or I’d lost my bonny Peggy Irvine.

11
‘O woe! O woe! O woe!’ he said,
‘O woe to the Marquis o Huntly,
Gard the Earl of Aboyne prove very unkind
To a good and a dutiful lady!’

* * * * *

H

Campbell MSS, II, 105.

1
The Earl of Boon’s to London gone,
And all his merry men with him;
For a’ the ribbonds hang at his horse’s main.
He has left his lady behind him.

2 He had not been a night in town.
Nor a day into the city,
Until that the letters they came to him,
And the ladies they did invite him.

3
His lady has lookit oer her left shoulder,
To see if she saw him coming,
And then she saw her ain good lord,
Just newly come from London.

4
‘Come kiss me, my dear, come kiss me,’ he said,
‘Come kiss me for my coming,
For if I had staid another day in town
Tomorrow I would hae been married in Lunnon.’

5
She turned about wi a very saucy look,
As saucy as eer did a woman;
Says, If a’ be true that I’ve heard of you,
You may go back and kiss your whores in Lunnon.

6
‘Go call on Jack, my waiting-man,’ he said,
‘Go saddle and make him ready;
For I maun away to the Bughts o Gight,
To speak to the Marquess of Huntly.’

7
He had not been at the Bughts of the Gight,
Nor the horses yet weel bated,
Until that the letters came ta him
That his lady was newly streeket.

8
‘Wae’s me, my dear! wae’s me!’ he said,
‘It waes me for my coming;
For I wad rather lost a’ the Bughts o the Gight
Or I had lost my bonny Peggy Irvine.’

* * * * *

I

Motherwell’s MS., p. 128.

1
The Earl of Aboyne to London has gone,
And all his nobles with him;
For all the braw ribbands he wore at his hat,
He has left his lady behind him.

2
She has to her high castle gane,
To see if she saw him coming;
And who did she spy but her own servant Jack,
Coming riding home again from London.

3
‘What news, what news, my own servant Jack?
What news have you got from London?’
‘Good news, good news, my lady,’ he says,
‘For the Earl of Aboyne he is coming.’

4
She has to her kitchen-maid gane:
‘Set your pots and your pans all a boiling;
Have every thing fine for gentry to dine,
For the Earl of Aboyne he is coming.

5
‘Stable-grooms all, pray be well employed,
Set your stable-bells all a ringing;
Let your hecks be overlaid with the finest of good hay,
For the Earl of Aboyne he is coming.’

6
She has to her low gates gane,
To see if she saw him coming,
And long seven miles before they came to town
She heard their bridles ringing.

7
‘Come kiss me, come kiss me, madam,’ he says,
‘Come kiss me for my coming,
For the morn should hae been my wedding-day
Had I staid any longer in London.’

8
She’s turned about with an angry look,
Says, Woe’s me for thy coming!
If the morn should hae been your wedding-day,
Go back and kiss your whores in London.

9
They’ve turned their horses’ heads around,
Their faces all for London;
With their hands to their hats they all rode off,
And they’re all away to London.

* * * * *

J

Motherwell’s MS., p. 135; from the recitation of Widow Nicol, of
Paisley.

1
The Earl of Aboyne has up to London gone,
And all his nobles with him,
And three broad letters he sent into his love
He would wed another woman in London.

2
She has turned the honey month about,
To see if he was coming,
And lang three miles ere he came to the town
She heard his bridle ringing.

3
She’s went down unto the close and she’s taen him from his horse,
Says, Ye’re welcome home from London!
‘If I be as welcome, dear Peggy, as you say,
Come kiss me for my coming.

4
‘Come kiss me, come kiss me, dear Peggy,’ he said,
‘Come kiss me for my coming,
For tomorrow should have been my wedding-day
Had I tarried any longer in London.’

5
She has turned herself round about,
And she was an angry woman:
‘If tomorrow should have been your wedding-day,
You may kiss with your sweethearts in London.’

6
‘Go saddle me my steed,’ he said,
‘Saddle and make him ready;
For I must away to the bonny Bog of Keith,
For to visit the Marquis of Huntley.’

7
‘Go ask him, go ask, dear Thomas,’ she said,
‘Go ask if he’ll take me with him;’
‘I’ve asked him once, and I’ll ask him no more,
For ye’ll never ride a mile in his company.’

8
‘Go make to me my bed,’ she said,
‘Make it soft and narrow;
For since my true lover has slighted me so,
I will die for him ere morrow.’

9
She has called her waiting-man,
And Jean her gentlewoman:
‘Go bring to me a glass of red wine,
For I’m as sick as any woman.’

10
The bed it was not made nor well laid down,
Nor yet the curtains drawn on,
Till stays and gown and all did burst,
And it’s alace for bonny Peggy Irvine!

11
The Earl of Aboyne was not at the Bog of Keith,
Nor met wi the Marquis of Huntley,
Till three broad letters were sent after him
That his pretty Peggy Irvine had left him.

12
He gave such a rap on the table where he sat
It made all the room for to tremble:
‘I would rather I had lost all the rents of Aboyne
Than have lost my pretty Peggy Irvine.’

* * * * *

K

Communicated by Mr Alexander Laing; from the recitation of Miss
Fanny Walker, of Mount Pleasant, near Newburgh-on-Tay.

1
The Earl o Aboyne is awa to Lunnon gane,
An he’s taen Joannan wi him,
An it ill be Yule ere he come again;
But he micht hae taen his bonnie Peggie Ewan.

2
Cook-maidens all, be ready at my call,
Hae a’ your pats an pans a-reekin;
For the finest o flowrs, gae through your bowrs,
For the Earl o Aboyne ‘s a comin.

* * * * *

L

Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 54. “An old woman (native of Banfshire)
sings ‘The Earl of Aboyne,’ beginning:”

The Lord Aboyn’s to London gone,
And his hail court wi him;
Better he had staid at hame,
Or taen his lady wi him.

* * * * *

#A.#

3^3. _Perhaps_ bretlher a: _not understood by me in either case._
clear _may be_ clean.

20^2. keping. _Glossed_ “meeting” _in a note, but the line is not
intelligible to me, and does not seem to be consistent with what
follows._

#B. a.#

9^3. herbs sweet air. _Robertson, New Deeside Guide, prints_ herbs
sweet an fair.

12^6. _Robertson prints_ ony langer.

#b.#

1.
The Earl o Aboyne he’s courteous an kind,
He’s kind to every woman,
An he has left the castle o Aboyne
An gane to dwell in Lunan;
An sair was the heart his lady had,
Because she wan na wi him.

2.
As she was walking in her garden green,
Alang wi her gentlewoman,
There was a letter brocht to her
That her lord was wed in London.

3. _Wanting._

4^2. saw twa bonny boys.

4^4. bring ye.

5^1. ye lady.

5^2. For the Earl o.

5^{3,4}. _Wanting._

6^1. all _wanting_.

6^4, 8^4, 9^6. Earl _for_ Lord.

7, 8^{2,3}, 9^{2–5}, 10, 11^{1,2}. _Wanting._

9^1. maidens.

11^5. Gae bring me a pint o the gude red wine.

12^2. Says, Ye’re welcome hame.

12^3. welcome, he cried, as.

12^5. wad hae been.

12^6. only langer.

13^1. her about wi a scornfu.

13^3. suld hae been his.

13^4. He may kiss his miss in.

14^1. My merry men a’.

14^2. I’m wae at heart for.

14^3. The nicht we’ll licht.

14^4. An the morn tak.

15, 16^{1,2}, 17^4, 18^2. _Wanting._

18^1. My merry men a’ now turn.

19^1. near to bonny Aboyne.

19^3. the tollin.

#a# _may have been derived from a printed copy, and #b# learned from
the same._

#C.#

_The latter half of the Skene MS. is very carelessly copied. Here,
as in other places, stanzas are not separated, lines are
improperly divided, and there are omissions which are in no way
indicated._

1^3. man hin | Before to, _etc._

#D.#

4^4. yonder’s? _But_ yonder _may_==yonder are.

14^4. She speed.

#G.#

7, 8 #are# 2, 3 _in the MS._

#H.#

7^4. streeket. _MS._, _perhaps_, struket.

#I.#

1^1, 3^4. of _is of later insertion_.

6^3. came hame, _originally_; hame _is erased and_ to town
_written above_.

#J.#

2^1. _I do not understand_ turned the honey month.

3^1. taen from him.

3^3. as you say: _originally written_ he says.

7^1. him _struck out after the second_ ask.

236

THE LAIRD O DRUM

#A. a.# Kinloch MSS, V, 9. #b#. ‘Laird of Drum,’ Kinloch’s Ancient
Scottish Ballads, p. 199.

#B.# ‘The Laird of Doune’ [miswritten for Drum], Skene MS., p. 78.

#C.# MS. copy formerly in the possession of Sir Walter Scott.

#D. a.# Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 194. #b#. ‘The
Laird of Drum,’ Buchan’s MSS, II, 101; Dixon, Scottish Traditional
Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 53, Percy Society, vol. xvii. #c#.
The New Deeside Guide, by James Brown, [1832,] p. 11. #d#. Gibb MS.,
p. 21.

#E.# ‘The Laird of Drum,’ MS., inserted in Dr Joseph Robertson’s
interleaved copy of The New Deeside Guide, Aberdeen [1832].

#F. a.# ‘The Ladye o the Drum,’ Loudon MS., p. 7. #b#. ‘The Laird o
the Drum,’ Macmath MS., p. 13.

First taken into a collection by Kinloch, 1827, who remarks that the ballad had been printed as a broadside in the North, and was extremely popular. #B#, the oldest version that has been recovered, was written down in 1802–3. There are verbal agreements between #B#, especially, and a fragment in Herd’s MSS (I, 55, II, 187, Herd’s Scottish Songs, 1776, II, 6), and there has been borrowing from one side or the other. Herd’s fragment belongs to a ballad of a shepherd’s daughter and an earl which is preserved in two copies in Motherwell’s MS. (I, 37, 252). No 397 of The Musical Museum, communicated to Johnson, says Stenhouse, by Burns, [1792,] and probably in a large measure his work, begins with stanzas which may have been suggested by the ballad before us or by the other. See an appendix.

The copy in Christie, I, 24, was epitomized from #A b#, with some alterations. That in The Deeside Guide, 1889, p. 17, is Aytoun’s, compounded of #A b# and #D a#.

Alexander Irvine, the young laird of Drum, says Spalding, was married to the lady Mary Gordon on December 7, 1643: Memorials of the Trubles in Scotland, etc., II, 296. Lady Mary Gordon was fourth daughter to George the second Marquis of Huntly, and niece to the Marquis of Argyll. The Laird of Drum suffered extremely in his worldly fortunes through his fidelity to the cause of the Stuarts. This would have been a natural reason for his declining a peerage offered him at the Restoration, and for his marrying, the second time, to win and not to spend. He took for his second wife Margaret Coutts (#A# 9), “a woman of inferior birth and manners, which step gave great offence to his relations.” (Kinloch.) He died in 1687. After the death of Irvine of Drum, Margaret Coutts married Irvine of Cults. She died in 1710, at the age of only forty-five.[137]

Drum is ten miles west of Aberdeen.[138]

For the commonplace in #A a# 3, #B# 8, #C# 5, etc., see II, 181 #b#.

Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, No 29, p. 105, translates Allingham’s ballad.

* * * * *

A

#a.# Kinloch MSS, V, 9, in the handwriting of James Beattie. #b.# Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 199; “from recitation.”

1
O it fell out upon a day,
When Drums was going to ride, O
And there he met with a well-far’d may,
Keeping her flocks on yon side. O

2
‘O fair may, O rare may,
Can not you fancy me?
Of a’ the lasses here about
I like nane so well as thee.’

3
‘Set your love on another, kind sir,
Set it not on me,
For I’m not fit to be your bride,
And your whore I’ll never be.’

4
Drums is to her father gane,
Keeping his flocks on yon hill,
And he has gotten his consent,
And the maid was at his will.

5
‘My daughter can neither read nor write,
She was neer brought up at school;
But well can she milk cow and ewe,
And make a kebbuck well.

6
‘She’ll winn in your barn at bear-seed time,
Cast out your muck at Yule;
She’ll saddle your steed in time o need,
Draw aff your boots hersell.’

7
‘Have not I no clergymen?
Pay I no clergy fee?
I’ll school her as I think fit,
And as I think fit to be.’

8
Drums is to the Highlands gane
For to be made ready,
And a’ the gentry thereabout
Says, Yonder comes Drums and his lady.]

9
‘Peggy Coutts is a very bonnie bride,
And Drums is a wealthy laddie;
But Drums might hae chosen a higher match
Than any shepherd’s daughter.’

10
Then up bespake his brother John,
Says, Brother you’ve done us wrong;
You’ve married ane below our degree,
A stain to a’ our kin.

11
‘Hold your tongue, my brother John,
I have done you no wrong;
For I’ve married ane to wirk and win,
And ye’ve married ane to spend.

12
‘The last time that I had a wife,
She was above my degree;
I durst not come in her presence
But with my hat on my knee.’

13
There was four-and-twenty gentlemen
Stood at the yetts o Drum;
There was na ane amang them a’
That welcomd his lady in.

14
He’s taen her by the milk-white hand
And led her in himsell,
And in thro ha’s and in thro bowers,
‘And you’re welcome, Lady o Drum.’

15
Thrice he kissd her cherry cheek,
And thrice her cherry chin,
And twenty times her comely mouth,
‘And you’re welcome, Lady o Drum.’

16
‘Ye shall be cook in my kitchen,
Butler in my ha;
Ye shall be lady at my command
When I ride far awa.’

17
‘But what will I do when auld Drum dies,
When auld Drum dies and leaves me?
Then I’ll tak back my word again,
And the Coutts will come and see me.’

* * * * * *

* * * * *

B

Skene MS., p. 78; taken down from recitation in the north of
Scotland, 1802–3.

1
There was a knight, [an a gallant knight,]
An a gallant knight was he,
An he’s faen in love
Wi his shepherd’s daghterie.

2
. . . . . . .
He could neither gang nor ride,
He fell so deep in her fancy,
Till his nose began to bleed.

3
‘Bonny may, an bra may,
Canna ye on me rue?
By a’ the maid[s] I ever saw,
There is nane I loo by you.’

4
‘Ye’r a shepherd’s ae daghter,
An I’m a barron’s son;
An what pleasure I wad hae
To see ye gae out an in!’

5
‘I’m a shepherd’s ae dochter,
An ye’r a barron’s son;
An there is nae pleasure I could ha
To see ye gae out or in.

6
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘For I wadna gie the fancy of my bonny love
For na love nor favour o you.’

7
‘Bonny may, an bra may,
Canna ye on me rue?
By a’ the maids I ever saw
There is nane I loo by you.’

8
‘Lay na yer fancy, sir, on me,’ she says,
‘Lay na yer fancy on me;
For I’m our low to be yer bride,
An yer quine I’ll never be.

9
‘For I will wear nane o yer silks,
Nor nane o yer scarlet claes;
For the hue o the whin shall be my gown,
An I will gae as I pleas.’

10
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘Ye’r na our laigh to be my bride,
An my quine ye’s never be.

11
‘Bonny may, and bra may,
Winna ye on me rue?
By a’ the maids I ever see,
There’s nane I loo but you.’

12
‘Gin ye ha faen so deep in my fancy
Ye can neither gan[g] nor ride,
Gae tak me to the middle o the ring,
An bring me guid companie.’

13
He has taen her by the milk-white hand
And led her thro haas an bowers:
‘Ye’r the choice of my heart,
An a’ I hae is yours.’

14
He took her by the milk-white hand
And led her out and in:
‘Ye’r the choice o my heart,
My dear, ye’r welcome in.’

15
Out spake his brither John,
‘Brither, ye ha done great wrong;
Ye hae married a wife this night
Disdained by a’ yer kin.’

16
‘Hold yer tong, my brither John,
For I hae don na wrong;
For I ha married a wife to ...,
An ye ha ane to spend.’

* * * * *

C

From a MS. copy formerly in possession of Sir Walter Scott;
communicated by the Rev. W. Forbes-Leith, through Mr Macmath.

1
There was a shepherd’s daughter
Sheering at the bear,
And by cam the Laird o Drum,
On an evening clear.

2
‘O will ye fancy me, fair maid?
O will ye fancy me?
O will ye fancy me, fair maid,
An lat the sheering be?’

3
‘O say na sae again, kind sir,
O say na sae again;
I’m owr low to be your bride,
Ye’r born owr high a man.’

4
Said, Fair maid, O rare maid,
Will ye on me rue?
Amang a’ the lasses o the land
I fancy nane but you.

5
‘Lay your love on another,’ she said,
‘And lay it not on me,
For I’m owr low to be your bride,
Your miss I’ll never be.

6
‘Yonder is my father dear,
Wi hogs upon yon hill;
Gif ye get but his consent,
I shall be at your will.’

7
He’s taen him to her father dear,
Keeps hogs upon yon hill,
An he has gotten his consent,
The may was at his will.

8
‘My daughter canna read or write,
She never was at school;
Weel can she milk cow and ewe,
An serve your house fu weel.

9
‘Weel can she shack your barns
An gae to mill an kill,
Saddle your steed in time o need,
And draw your boots hirsel.

10
‘She canna wear your silk sae fine,
Nor yet your silver clear;
The hue o the ewe man be her weed,
Altho she was your dear.’

11
He’s wedded the shepherd’s daughter,
An he has taen her hame;
He’s wedded the shepherd’s daughter,
An led her on to Drum.

12
There were four an twenty bold barons
Stood at the yet o Drum;
There was na ane amang them a’
That welcomd his lady hame.

13
Out then spak his brother dear,
Says, Ye’v done mickel wrong;
Ye’v wedded a mean woman,
The lack o a’ our kin.

14
‘I never did thee wrong, brother,
I never did thee wrong;
I’ve wedded a woman to work an win,
An ye hae ane to spen.

15
‘The last woman I wedded
Was aboon my degree;
I could na sit in her presence
But wi hat upon my knee.’

16
He’s taen her by the milk-white hand
An led her but an ben,
An in the ha, amang them a’,
He’s hailed her Lady Drum.

17
‘Now I’ve wedded the shepherd’s daughter,
An I hae brought her hame,
In the ha, amang ye a’,
She is welcome hame to Drum.’

* * * * *

D

#a.# Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 194. #b.#
Buchan’s MSS, II, 101. #c.# The New Deeside Guide, by James Brown
[Joseph Robertson], [1832], p. 11. #d.# Gibb MS., p. 21, No 4, from
the recitation of a schoolfellow at Auchinblae, Kincardineshire,
about 1851.

1
The laird o Drum is a hunting gane,
All in a morning early,
And he did spy a well-far’d may,
Was shearing at her barley.

2
‘O will ye fancy me, fair may,
And let your shearing be, O
And gang and be the lady o Drum?
O will ye fancy me?’ O

3
‘I winna fancy you,’ she says,
‘Nor let my shearing be;
For I’m ower low to be Lady Drum,
And your miss I’d scorn to be.’

4
‘But ye’ll cast aff that gown o grey,
Put on the silk and scarlet;
I’ll make a vow, and keep it true,
You’ll neither be miss nor harlot.’

5
‘Then dee you to my father dear,
Keeps sheep on yonder hill;
To ony thing he bids me do
I’m always at his will.’

6
He has gane to her father dear,
Keeps sheep on yonder hill:
‘I’m come to marry your ae daughter,
If ye’ll gie me your gude will.’

7
‘She’ll shake your barn, and winna your corn,
And gang to mill and kill;
In time of need she’ll saddle your steed;
And I’ll draw your boots mysell.’

8
‘O wha will bake my bridal bread,
And wha will brew my ale,
And wha will welcome my lady hame,
It’s mair than I can tell.’

9
Four an twenty gentle knights
Gied in at the yetts o Drum;
But nae a man lifted his hat
Whan the lady o Drum came in.

10
But he has taen her by the hand,
And led her but and ben;
Says, You’r welcome hame, my lady Drum,
For this is your ain land.

11
For he has taen her by the hand,
And led her thro the ha;
Says, You’r welcome hame, my lady Drum,
To your bowers ane and a’.

12
Then he [’s] stript her o the robes o grey,
Drest her in the robes o gold,
And taen her father frae the sheep-keeping,
Made him a bailie bold.

13
She wasna forty weeks his wife
Till she brought hame a son;
She was as well a loved lady
As ever was in Drum.

14
Out it speaks his brother dear,
Says, You’ve dune us great wrang;
You’ve married a wife below your degree,
She’s a mock to all our kin.

15
Out then spake the Laird of Drum,
Says, I’ve dune you nae wrang;
I’ve married a wife to win my bread,
You’ve married ane to spend.

16
‘For the last time that I was married,
She was far abeen my degree;
She wadna gang to the bonny yetts o Drum
But the pearlin abeen her ee,
And I durstna gang in the room where she was
But my hat below my knee.’

17
When they had eaten and well drunken,
And all men bound for bed,
The Laird o Drum and his lady gay
In ae bed they were laid.

18
‘Gin ye had been o high renown,
As ye are o low degree,
We might hae baith gane down the streets
Amang gude companie.’

19
‘I tauld you ere we were wed
You were far abeen my degree;
But now I’m married, in your bed laid,
And just as gude as ye.

20
‘Gin ye were dead, and I were dead,
And baith in grave had lain,
Ere seven years were at an end,
They’d not ken your dust frae mine.’

* * * * *

E

From Dr Joseph Robertson’s interleaved and annotated copy of The New
Deeside Guide, [nominally] by James Brown [but written by Joseph
Robertson], Aberdeen [1832]; inserted at p. 12.

1
The Laird of Drum is a wooing gane,
All in a morning early,
And there he spied a weel-far’d may,
She was shearing at her barley.

2
‘Will you fancy me, my bonny may,
And will you fancy me? O
And will you come and be Lady Drum,
And let your shearing a be?’ O

3
‘It’s I winna fancy you, kind sir,
I winna fancy thee;
For I’m too low to be lady o Drum,
And your whore I would scorn to be.’

4
‘Ye’ll cast aff the robes of gray,
And put on the silk and the scarlet,
And here to you I’ll make a vow
Ye’se neither be whore nor harlot.’

5
‘I winna cast aff the robes o gray,
To put on the silk and the scarlet,
But I’ll wear the colour of the ewe,
For they set me better than a’ that.

6
‘But ye’ll do you doun to my father dear,
Keeping sheep on yonder hill,
And the first ae thing that he bids me I’ll do,
For I wirk aye at his will.’

7
He’s done him doun to her father dear,
Keeping sheep on yonder hill:
‘Ye hae a pretty creature for your daughter;
Dear me! but I like her well.’

8
‘It’s she can neither read nor write,
She was never brought up at the squeel;
She canna wash your china cups,
Nor yet mak a dish o tea.

9
‘But well can she do a’ ither thing,
For I learnt the girly mysell;
She’ll fill in your barn, and winnow your corn,
She’ll gang to your kill and your mill,
And, time o need, she’ll saddle your steed,
And draw your boots hersell.’

10
‘Wha will bake my bridal bread,
And wha will brew my ale?
Wha will welcome my lady in?
For it’s more than I can tell.’

11
There was four-and-twenty gentlemen
Stood a’ in the yetts o Drum,
But there was nane o them lifted their hats
To welcome the young lady in.

12
But up spake his ae brither,
Says, Brither, ye hae done wrang;
Ye have married a wife this day
A lauch to a’ our kin.

13
‘I’ve married ane to win my bread,
But ye married ane to spend;
But as lang’s I’m able to walk to the yetts o Drum
On me she may depend.

14
‘The last lady that I did wed
Was far above my command;
I durst not enter the bower where she was
But my hat low in my hand.’

15
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And a’ man bound for bed,
The Laird o Drum and the shepherd’s dother
In one bed they were laid.

16
‘If ye were come o noble bleed
An were as high as me,
We could gang to the yetts o Drum
Amangst gueed companie.’

17
‘I tald you ere we was wed
I was oer low for thee,
But now we are wedd and in ae bed laid,
And you must be content wi me.

18
‘For an ye were dead, an I were dead,
And laid in the dust low down,
When we were baith turnd up again
Wha could ken your mould frae mine?’

* * * * *

F

#a.# Manuscript of David Louden, Morham, Haddington, p. 7, 1873;
from Mrs Dickson, Rentonhall, derived from her great-grandmother.
#b.# Macmath MS., p. 13; from Mr William Traquair, S. S. C.,
Edinburgh, obtained originally in Perthshire.

1
‘Oh, will ye fancy me, fair maid?
Oh, will ye fancy me? O
Or will ye go to be ladye o the Drum,
An let a’ your shearin abe? O
An let a’ your shearin abe? O
An let a’ your shearin abe ?’ O

2
‘I can neither read nor write,
Nor neer been brocht up at schule;
But I can do all other things,
An keep a hoose richt weel.

3
‘My faither he’s a puir shepherd-man,
Herds his hogs on yonder hill;
Gin ye will go get his consent,
Then I’ll be at your call.’

4
He has gane to her father,
That herds hogs on yonder hill;
He said, ‘You’ve got a pretty daughter,
I’d fain tak her to my sel.’

5
‘She can neither read nor write,
Was neer brocht up at schule;
But she can do all other things,
An I learnt aye the lassie my sel.

6
‘She’ll milk your cows, she’ll carry your corn,
She’ll gang to the mill or the kiln;
She’ll saddle your steed at any time of need,
And she’ll brush up your boots hersel.’

7
‘It’s who will bake my bridal bread?
Or who will brew my ale?
Or who will welcome this bonnie lassie in?
For it’s more than I can tell.’

8
There’s four-and-twenty gentlemen
Stand doun at the gate o the Drum;
Not one of them all would take off his hat
For to welcome the bonnie lassie in.

9
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘Oh, brother, you’ve married a wife this day
A disgrace to all our kin.’

10
‘Oh, brother, I’ve married a wife to win,
And ye’ve got one to spen,
And as long as the bonnie lassie walks out and in
She shall aye be the ladye o the Drum.’

11
When all was done, and no bells rung,
And all men bound for their bed,
The laird and the shepherd’s bonnie daughter
In one bed they were laid.

12
‘Though I’m not of as noble blood,
Nor yet of as high degree,
Now I lie locked in your arms two,
And you must be contented wi me.

13
‘If you were dead, and I were dead,
And baith laid in one grave,
If we were baith to be raised up again,
Wha would ken your dust frae mine?

* * * * *

#A. a.#

1^3. wellfar’d May.

2^1. fair May: rare May.

2^4. as thee May.

17. _This stanza looks like a spurious addition._

#b.# _Kinloch has taken fourteen of the seventeen stanzas of #a#
(all but 1, 2, 17) into his printed copy, with a change of a
word here and there (not here noticed), as was his way. The
remaining ten stanzas must be from recitation, if Kinloch is to
be understood strictly._

1.
The laird o Drum is a-wooing gane;
It was on a morning early;
And he has fawn in wi a bonnie may,
A-shearing at her barley.

2.
‘My bonnie may, my weel-faurd may,
O will ye fancy me, O
And gae and be the lady o Drum,
And lat your shearing abee?’ O

3.
‘It’s I canna fancy thee, kind sir,
I winna fancy thee;
I winna gae and be lady o Drum,
And lat my shearing abee.’

_After 3._
My father he is a shepherd mean,
Keeps sheep on yonder hill,
And ye may gae and spier at him,
For I am at his will.

4. Drum: _and always_.

_After 7_:

‘I’ll learn your lassie to read and write,
And I’ll put her to the scheel;
She’ll neither need to saddle my steed,
Nor draw aff my boots hersell.

‘But wha will bake my bridal bread,
Or brew my bridal ale,
And wha will welcome my bonnie bride,
Is mair than I can tell.’

10^4. lake _for_ stain, _and so entered in pencil in the MS._

_After 12_:

‘The first wife that I did wed,
She was far abeen my degree;
She wadna hae walkd to the yetts o Drum
But the pearls abeen her bree.

‘But an she was adord for as much gold
As Peggie’s for beautie,
She micht walk to the yetts o Drum
Amang gueed companie.’

16^3. in my command, _a plausible reading_.

_After 16_:

‘But I told ye afore we war wed
I was owre low for thee;
But now we are wed, and in ae bed laid,
And ye maun be content wi me.

‘For an I war dead, and ye war dead,
And baith in ae grave laid,
And ye and I war tane up again,
Wha could distan your mouls frae mine?’

O _is added to the second and fourth lines except when the rhyme
is in two syllables, as in_ 1.

#B.#

_Title._ The Laird o Doune. _So written twice_: _at p. 75 by
anticipation_, _again at p. 78_.

1^4. daighterie (i _undotted_): daghter he?

3^1. May: _and always_.

4^4, 11^4. May _added_, _for singing_.

6^4. Sir _added for singing_.

_No division into stanzas, and no indication of gaps. The
deficiency at the end of 16^3 is noted by ..._

#D. a.#

O _is added (for singing) to the second and fourth verse of every
stanza except_ 1, 4, _which have two-syllable rhyme_.

_19 is by mistake printed twice._

#b.# O _added as in_ #a#.

2^1. me, bonny lassie.

2^3. O will ye fancy me, bonny lassie.

2^4. And lat your shearing be.

3^4, 4^4. whore _for_ miss.

4^1. ye cast.

7^4. And _wanting_.

12, 13. _Wanting._

16^{2,4}, 19^2. above _for_ abeen.

16^5. durst not.

17^2. all man.

19. _Repeated, as in_ #a#.

20^2. in your grave: lien.

_Dixon made changes in printing this copy._

#c#.

O _is not added as in_ #a#.

1^3. he has spied.

2^1. you.

3^3. lady o.

5^1. go you.

7^1. winn.

7^2. mill or.

9^4. Drum was come.

10^4. is a’ your ain.

12^2. in robes.

14^4. all your.

19^1. you weel ere.

20.
Gin we were dead, and in grave laid,
And then taen up again,
I doubt they would look wi a gay clear ee
That would ken your dust frae mine.

_In Robertson’s annotated and interleaved copy, besides some
readings from #E#, there are noted in the margin the following_:

7^2. to your mill and your kill.

9^3. But there was nae ane did lift.

17^3. and the herd’s dochter.

19^1. you before that we. _This stanza twice, as in_ #a#.

20 as in #a#.

#d.#

O is not added as in #a#, #b#.

1^2. Upon a.

1^3. he has spied.

2^2. O will you fancy me.

2^4. An let your shearin abee.

3^1. said.

3^2. abee.

3^3. For _wanting_. I’m far ower: lady o.

3^4. your whore I winna.

4, 5. _Wanting._

6^1. her auld faither.

6^2. Kept sheep upon the.

6^3. _Wanting._

6^4. That the may was at his will.

7.
But my daughter can neither read nor write,
She was never at the schule;
But she’ll saddle your steed in time of need,
An draw aff your boots hersel.

8^3. my bonny bride.

8^4. Is more.

9^1. gentlemen.

9^2. Stood at.

9^3. There was na ane that lifted.

9^4. Drum was come.

10^3. lady o.

10^4. is a’ your ain.

11–13. _Wanting._

14^1. Out an spake his brither John.

14^4. a’ your.

15^1. Out an.

15^3. to save my gear.

16^1. the first time I had a wife.

16^{3,4}. I durstna, _etc._, ^{5,6} _come before_ ^{3,4}.

17^2. to bed.

17^3. an the weel-faured may.

19^1. afore we.

19^3. we are: in ae.

19^4. An I’m: as thee.

20^2. in ae grave lain.

20^3. were come an gane.

20^4. Wha could ken your mools.

#E.#

O _is appended, as in_ #D a#, #b#, _except in_ 1, 4, 5.

#F. a.#

“Mrs Dickson says her mother used to say she has heard her (her
mother’s) grandmother sing the following ballad with great glee.
Air, Boyne Water.”

9^{3,4}, 10 _are given as one stanza, the last two lines_ “instead
of repeat.”

O _is appended throughout_.

#b.#

_Variations given only in part._

O _is appended as in_ #D#, #E#.

_Begins_:

The laird o the Drum a hunting went,
One morning very early,
And there he spied a bonny, bonny may,
A shearing at the barley.

1.
‘And could ye fancy a gentleman?
An wad ye married be? O
Or wad ye be the lady o the Drum?
I pray ye tell to me.’

‘I could, _etc._
And I wad, _etc._
But for to be the lady o the Drum,
It’s by far too high for me.’

2. _Wanting._

3^2, 4^2. Feeding sheep.

3^4. I’m entirely at his will. (_Good prose_: _cf._ 5^3.)

4^{3,4}. It’s I am in love wi your daughter, And I’ll.

5^3. But for all other things she’ll do very well.

6^{1,2}. _Wanting._

7. _Wanting._

8^2. Stood all at.

8^3. And nane o them would put their hand to their hat.

9.
‘O brother, you’ve married a wife the day,
And you have done much ill;
O brother you’ve married a wife today
A scorn to a’ your kin.’

10^{1,2}. I’ve got a wife to win my bread, And you’ve got ane to
spend it.

10^{3,4}. _Wanting._

_After 10_:

The first wife that I married,
She was far above my degree;
I durst na enter the room she was in
But wi hat below my knee.

11–13. _Wanting._

* * * * *