Chapter XII: Appendix: The Gaberlunyie-Man (1)

Printed in the first volume of Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724, from which it was repeated in Thomson’s Orpheus Caledonius, 1725, fol. 43, and Old Ballads, III, 259, the same year; in the Dublin reprint of the Miscellany, 1729, I, 96, the “fifth edition,” London, 1730, and the ninth edition, London, 1733, I. 84. The first edition, 1724, being of extreme rarity, if anywhere now to be found, the piece is given here from Old Ballads, which agrees with Orpheus Caledonius except as to the spelling of a single word.

The Gaberlunyie-Man is one of the pieces which were subjected to revision in the Miscellany; “such old verses as have been done time out of mind, and only wanted to be cleared from the dross of blundering transcribers and printers, such as ‘The Gaberlunzie-man,’ ‘Muirland Willy,’” etc. (Ramsay’s preface.)

In recited copies, as the “Old Lady’s Collection,” No 13 (Skene MS., p. 65), and Motherwell’s MS., p. 31, the girl is made to come back again to see her mother (or the gaberlunyie-man brings her) ‘wi a bairn in her arms and ane in her wame;’ but for all that a fine lady, ‘wi men- and maid-servants at her command.’

* * * * *

Translated by Herder, II, 264; Bodmer, I, 68; Fiedler, p. 23; Loeve-Veimars, p. 356.

1
The pauky auld carle came oer the lee,
Wi many good eens and days to me,
Saying, Goodwife, for your courtesie,
Will ye lodge a silly poor man?
The night was cauld, the carle was wat,
And down ayont the ingle he sat;
My daughter’s shoulders he gan to clap,
And cadgily ranted and sang.

2
‘O wow!’ quo he, ‘were I as free
As first when I saw this country,
How blyth and merry wad I be!
And I wad never think lang.’
He grew canty, and she grew fain,
But little did her auld minny ken
What thir slee twa togither were sayn,
When wooing they were sa[e] thrang.

3
‘And O!’ quo he, ‘ann ye were as black,
As eer the crown of your dady’s hat,
’Tis I wad lay thee by my back,
And awa wi me thou shoud gang.’
‘And O!’ quoth she, ‘ann I were as white
As eer the snaw lay on the dike,
I’d clead me braw, and lady-like,
And awa with thee I’d gang.’

4
Between the twa was made a plot;
They raise a wee before the cock,
And wyliely they shot the lock,
And fast to the bent are they gane.
Up the morn the auld wife raise,
And at her leasure pat on her claiths;
Syne to the servants bed she gaes,
To speer for the silly poor man.

5
She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay,
The strae was cauld, he was away;
She clapt her hands, cry’d, Waladay!
For some of our gear will be gane.
Some ran to coffers, and some to kists,
But nought was stown that coud be mist;
She danc’d her lane, cry’d, Praise be blest,
I have lodg’d a leal poor man!

6
‘Since nathing’s awa, as we can learn,
The kirn’s to kirn and milk to earn;
Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my bairn,
And bid her come quickly ben.’
The servant gade where the daughter lay,
The sheets was cauld, she was away;
And fast to her goodwife can say,
She’s aff with the gaberlunyie-man.

7
‘O fy, gar ride, and fy, gar rin,
And hast ye find these traitors again;
For she’s be burnt, and he’s be slain,
The wearifu gaberlunyie-man.’
Some rade upo horse, some ran a-fit,
The wife was wood and out o’er wit;
She coud na gang, nor yet coud she sit,
But ay she cursd and she band.

8
Mean time far hind outoer the lee,
Fou snug in a glen, where nane coud see,
The twa, with kindly sport and glee,
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The priving was good, it pleasd them baith,
To loe her for ay he gae her his aith;
Quo she, To leave thee, I will be laith,
My winsome gaberlunyie-man.

9
‘O kend my minny I were wi you,
Illfardly wad she crook her mou;
Sic a poor man she’d never trow,
After the gaberlunyie-man.’
‘My dear,’ quo he, ‘ye’r yet oer young,
And ha na learnd the beggar’s tongue,
To follow me frae town to town,
And carry the gaberlunyie on.

10
‘Wi kauk and keel, I’ll win your bread,
And spindles and whorles for them wha need,
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed,
To carry the gaberlunyie, O.
I’ll bow my leg, and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout oer my eye;
A criple or blind they will ca me,
While we shall be merry and sing.’

3^2. my dady’s, Dublin, 1729, London, 1730, 1733.

FOOTNOTES:

[93] And may have been omitted by Ramsay because he “kept out all ribaldry” from the Tea-Table Miscellany. This is not a Tea-Table Miscellany, and I have no discretion.

[94] I owe my knowledge of all of these three copies to Mr Baring-Gould. He informs me that the ballad which he took down is sung throughout Cornwall and Devon.

[95] Other copies, which are rather numerous, much less: Norrenberg, Des dülkener Fiedlers Liederbuch, p. 10, No 13; Peter I, 182; Uhland, No 285, p. 737; Haupt u. Schmaler, I, 102, No 67; etc. See Hoffmann’s notes, pp. 46, 47; Barack, Zimmerische Chronik, 2d ed., II, 111, and Liebrecht’s note, Germania, XIV, 38; Schade, Weimarisches Jahrbuch, III, 259 ff., 465 ff.

[96] For this older piece, see Ebsworth, Bagford Ballads, I, 216. There is no adventure; the subject is the beggar’s way of life.

280

THE BEGGAR-LADDIE

=A.= ‘The Shipherd Boy,’ “Old Lady’s Collection,” No 35.

=B.= ‘The Beggar’s Dawtie,’ Murison MS., p. 85.

=C.= ‘The Beggar-Laddie,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 249.

=D.= ‘The Gaberlunzie Laddie, or, The Beggar’s Bride,’ Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 100.

=E.= ‘The Shepherd’s Bonny Lassy,’ Kinloch MSS, V, 249, II, 17.

This is a sort of ‘Gaberlunyie-Man’ with a romantic conclusion, resembling that of ‘Lizie Lindsay.’ A pretended beggar, who is for the time acting as shepherd’s swain, induces a young lady, or young woman of good standing, to follow him as his beggar-lassie. They come to a hall (his father’s, =A=, =D=, =E=, brother’s, =C=), he knocks loudly, four and twenty gentlemen welcome him in, and as many ladies the lassie, and she is thenceforth a knight’s or squire’s lady.

There is corruption in all the copies,[97] and the rhyme is frequently lost. =A= 2 (=B= 3, =C= 3, =D= 7, =E= 5) is taken almost bodily from ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man,’ 10. =D= is not the better for being a mixture of three copies. =D= 4 anticipates the conclusion, and it is inconceivable that any meddler should not have seen this. =D= 14 is caught from ‘The Jolly Beggar.’

A

The “Old Lady’s Collection,” No 35; north of Scotland.

1
Shiperd-boy, what is yer trade?
Or what way do ye wine yer bread?
Or what way do ye wine yer bread,
Fan the kipeng nout gies over?

2
‘Spindels an forls it is my trade,
An bits o sticks to them who need,
Whilk is a gentell trade indeed;
Bony lassie, cane ye lea me?’

3
‘I lea you as I supos
Rachell loved Jacob of old,
As Jason loied his flice of gould,
Sae dearly do I lea ye.

4
‘Ye cast off yer clouty coat,
An ye pitt one my scarlett cloke,
An I will follou you just att the back,
Becass ye are a bonny laddie.’

5
He cust off his cloutty coat,
An he patt on her scarlet cloke,
An she folloued him just att the back,
Becaus he was a bonny laddie.

6
They gaed on, an forder on,
Till they came to yon borrous-toun;
She bought a loaf an they both satt doun,
Bat she ate no we her laddie.

7
They gaed on, an forder one,
Till they came to the nest borrous-toun;
I wat the lassie louked doun,
For the following of her laddie.

8
‘O if I wer on the head of yon hill,
Ther I wad greet my fill,
For the follouing of my laddie.’

9
‘O had yer toung, my dearest dear,
I ill ha ye back as I brought ye hear,
For I canna bear yer morning.’

10
‘O had yer toung, my dearest dear,
I will gae throu the warld baith far an near,
Becaus ye’r a bonny ladie.’

11
They gad on, an forder on,
Till they came to his father’s haa,
An he knoked ther fue loudly.

12
‘O had yer hand, my dear[est] dear,
An dou not knoke sae loudly,
For fear they sud be angry.’

13
Four-an-tuenty gentelmen
They conved the beager ben,
An as mony gay ladës
Conved the beager’s lassie.

14
His brother lead her throu the haa:
‘I wis, brother, we had beagged a’,
For sick a bonny lassie.’

15
That same night she was bedded,
An the nist morning she was wedded;
She came to gued by grait misgiding,
By the follouing of her laddie.

B

Murison MS., p. 85; from Aberdeenshire.

1
’Twas on a day in the month o June
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
When Phoebus shines sae clearly.

2
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
She says, My dear, what is your trade
When thiggin ye give over?

3
‘Spinls and forls is my trade,
Wi bits o sticks I win my bread,
An O it is a winnin trade;
Bonnie lassie, can ye loo me?’
An O it is, etc.

4
‘O I can love ye manyfold,
As Jacob loved Rachel of old,
And as Jessie loved the cups o gold;
My dear, can ye believe me?’
As Jessie, etc.

5
‘It’s ye’ll tak aff the robes o red,
An ye’ll pit on the beggin-weed,
An ye’ll gang wi me an ye’ll beg your bread,
An ye’ll be the beggar’s dawtie.’

6
When they cam to yon borough-toon,
They bocht a loaf an they baith sat doon,
They bocht a loaf an they baith sat doon,
An the lassie ate wi her laddie.

7
When they cam to yon grassy hill,
Where spotted flocks do feed their fill,
‘I’ll sit me doon an I’ll greet a while,
For the followin o my laddie.’

8
‘It’s ye’ll tak aff yer beggin-weed,
An ye’ll pit on the goons o red,
An ye’ll gang ye back the road ye cam,
For I canna bide yer greetin.’

9
‘Betide me weel, betide me woe,
It’s wi the beggar an I’ll go,
An I’ll follow him through frost an snow,
An I’ll be the beggar’s dawtie.’

10
When they cam to yonder ha,
He knockit loud an sair did ca;
She says, My dear, we’ll be foun in fa
For knockin here sae loudly.

11
Four-an-twenty gentlemen
Cam a’ to welcome the beggar in,
An as monie fair ladies gay
To welcome’s bonnie lassie.

12
When at he gied through the ha,
They a’ did laugh, they were like to fa,
Sayin, Brither, I wish we had beggit a’,
For sic a bonnie lassie.

13
‘The streen ye was the beggar’s bride,
An noo this nicht ye’ll lie by my side,
Come weel, come woe, whateer betide,
An ye’ll be aye my dawtie.’

C

Motherwell’s MS., p. 249; from the recitation of Miss Ann Wilson, of the Tontine Inn, Paisley, who learned it from the cook in her father’s house.

1
Down in yonder garden gay,
Where many a ladie does repair,
Where many a ladie does repair,
Puing of flowers sae bonnie.

2
‘O do you see yon shepherd’s son,
Feeding his flocks in yonder loan,
Feeding his flocks in yonder loan?
Vow but he feeds them bonnie!’

3
‘O laddie, laddie, what is your trade?
Or by what means do you win your bread?
Or by what means do you win your bread?
O laddie, tell unto me.’

4
By making spindles is my trade,
Or whorles in the time o need,
And by which ways I do win my bread:
O lady, do you love me?’

5
‘As Judas loved a piece of gold,
As Jacob loved Rachel of old,
As Jacob loved Rachel of old,
O laddie, I do love thee.’

6
‘You must put off your robes of silk,
You must put on my cloutit claes,
And follow me hard at my back,
And ye’ll be my beggar-lassie.’

7
She’s put aff her robes of silk,
And she’s put on his cloutit claes,
And she’s followed him hard at his back,
And she’s been his beggar-lassie.

8
O when they cam to [the] borrowstoun,
Vow but the lassie lookit doun!
Vow but the lassie lookit doun!
Following her beggar-laddie.

9
O when they cam to Stirling toun,
He coft a loaf and they baith sat doun,
He coft a loaf and they baith sat doun,
And she’s eaten wi her beggar-laddie.

10
‘O do you see yon hie, hie hill,
Where the corn grows baith rank and tall?
If I was there, I would greet my fill,
Where naebody wuld see me.’

11
When they came to his brother’s hall,
Vow but he chappit loud and schill!
‘Don’t chap sae loud,’ the lassie said,
‘For we may be fund faut wi.’

12
Four-and-twenty gentlemen,
And twice as many gay ladies,
And twice as many gay ladies,
Came to welcome in the lassie.

13
His brother led her thro the hall,
With laughter he was like to fall;
He said, I think we should beg it all,
For she is a bonnie lassie.

14
‘You must put aff your cloutit claes,
You must put on your robes of silk,
You must put on your robes of silk,
For ye are a young knicht’s ladye.’

D

Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 100; from three copies, two in Banffshire, and one in Aberdeenshire.

1
’Twas in the pleasant month of June,
When woods and valleys a’ grow green,
And valiant ladies walk alane,
While Phoebus shines soe clearly.
And valiant ladies, etc.

2
Out-ower yon den I spied a swain,
Wi a shepherd’s club into his han;
He was driving ewes out-ower yon knowes,
And said, Lassie, I could love you.
He was driving ewes, etc.

3
‘Oh, I could love you manifold,
As Jacob lovd Rachel of old,
As Jesse lovd the fields of gold,
So dearly could I love you.

4
‘In ha’s and chambers ye’se be laid,
In silks and cambrics ye’se be clade,
An wi the finest ye’se be fed,
My dear, gin ye would believe me.’

5
‘Your ha’s and chambers ye’ll soon sweep clean,
Wi your flattering tongue now let me alane;
You are designd to do me wrang,
Awa, young man, and leave me.

6
‘But tell me now what is your trade,
When you’ve given over sheep and club?’
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .

7
‘By making besoms I win my bread,
And spindles and whorles in time o need;
Isn’t that a gentle trade indeed?
Bonnie lassie, can you loe me?

8
‘Will ye cast aff your mantle black
And put on you a clouty cloak,
And follow me close at the back,
The gaberlunyie-laddie?’

9
Then she coost aff her mantle black,
And she put on a clouty cloak,
And she followd him close at the back,
Her gaberlunyie-laddie.

10
As they gaed through yon borough-town,
For shame the lassie lookit down;
But they bought a loaf and they both sat down,
And the lassie ate wi her laddie.

11
When they came to his father’s gate,
Sae loudly as he rappd thereat;
‘My dear,’ said she, ‘ye’ll be found in faut
For rapping there sae loudly.’

12
Then four-and-twenty gentlemen
Convoyd the gentle beggar ben,
And aye as mony gay ladies
Convoyd the bonny lassie.

13
When they were come into the ha,
Wi laughter a’ were like to fa:
‘I wish, dear brother, we had beggëd a’,
For sic a bonnie lassie.’

14
Then as he stood amang them a’,
He let his meal-pocks a’ down fa,
And in red gowd he shone oer them a’,
And she was a young knight’s lady.

15
Yestreen she was the begger’s bride,
As his wife she now stood by his side,
And for a’ the lassie’s ill misguide,
She’s now the young knight’s lady.

E

Kinloch MSS, V, 249. As recited by John Laurie, Abbeygreen.

1
’Twas in the merry month of June,
When woods and gardens were all in bloom,
When woods and gardens were all in bloom,
And Phœbus shining clearly.

2
Did you not see your shepherd-swain,
Feeding his flocks upon the plain,
Feeding his flocks all one by one,
And keeping them together?

3
Did you not see yon bonny green,
Where dukes and lords and my love hath been,
Where dukes and lords and my love hath been,
And Phœbus shining clearly?

4
‘O shepherd, shepherd, tell me indeed
Which is the way you dou win your bread,
Which is the way you dou win your bread,
When feeding you give over?’

5
‘By making spindles I win my bread,
By turning whorles in time of need,
By turning whorles in time of need,
Say, lassy, can you love me?’

6
‘I could love you manifold,
As Jacob loved Rachel of old,
As Jacob loved Rachel of old,
So dearly could I love you.’

7
‘You must cast off these robes of silk,
And put about my shepherd’s cloak,
And you must walk down at my back,
Like a shepherd’s bonny lassie.’

8
She has cast off her robes of silk,
And put about his shepherd’s cloak,
And she has walkd down at his back,
Like a shepherd’s bonny lassie.

9
O they walked up, and they walked down,
Till this fair maiden she’s wearyed grown;
Says she, My dear, we’ll go to some town,
And there tak up our lodgings.

10
O whan they cam to his father’s gate,
Sae loudly, loudly as he did rap;
Says she, My dear, we’ll be found in fault
For rapping here sae boldly.

11
But whan they cam to his father’s hall,
O loud, loud laughter they laughed all,
Saying, Brother, I wish we had herded all,
Ye’ve got sic an a bonny lassie.

12
Now this young couple they were wed,
And all the way the flowers were spread,
For in disguise they were married;
She’s now the young squire’s lady.

* * * * *

=A.=

2^2. who wad. _Cf._ ‘Gaberlunyie-Man,’ 10^2. =C=, =D=, =E=, time o need.

4^1. clouty clok. _Cf._ 5^1.

4, 5. _In the other copies, the lady casts off her better clothes, and puts on_ the beggin-weed, his cloutit claes, a clouty cloak, his shepherd’s cloak, _and this disposition is no doubt the right one_.

6^3. She bought. He, =C=, They, =B=, =D=, _either of which is preferable_.

15^2. wouded.

=C.=

8^1, 9^1; 10^1. Oh.

8^1. Borrowstoun.

=D.=

6, 7 _are printed together_.

FOOTNOTES:

[97]

=B= 4^3, As Jessie loved the cups o gold,

=C= 5^1, As Judas loved a piece of gold,

=D= 3^3, As Jesse lovd the fields of gold; the original reading being as in

=A= 3^3, As Jason loied his flice of gould.

281

THE KEACH I THE CREEL

=A.= ‘The Keach i the Creel,’ Alexander Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 35, 1845; Dixon, Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs, p. 112, Percy Society, vol. xvii, 1846.

=B.= ‘The Creel, or, Bonnie May.’ Communicated by Mr David Louden, Morham, Haddington, 1873.

=C.= ‘The Cunning Clerk,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 278, 1828.

=D.= ‘The Covering Blue,’ Kinloch MSS, I, 276; Kinloch’s Ballad Book, p. 61, 1827.

A few copies of =A= were printed about 1845 by a Northumbrian gentleman for private distribution. One of these came into Whitelaw’s hands, another into Dixon’s. Dixon made some changes in reprinting. Bell, Ancient Poems, etc., p. 75, 1857, and Bruce and Stokoe, Northumbrian Minstrelsy, p. 82, 1882, repeat Dixon. This last remarks that “this old and very humorous ballad has long been a favorite on both sides of the Border.”

James Telfer, writing to Sir W. Scott, May 12, 1824 [Letters, XIII, No 73], says: “I have an humorous ballad sung by a few of the old people on this side of the Border. It is entitled The Keach in the Creel. It begins thus:@

A bonny may went up the street
Some whitewish (_sic_) for to buy,
And a bonny clerk’s faen in love with her,
And he’s followed her by and by, by,
And he’s followed her by and by.”@

Buchan notes, I, 319, that Motherwell had sent him a ballad “somewhat similar in incident,” taken down from the recitation of an old woman in or near Paisley.

This was perhaps a copy of which the first stanza is entered in Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 55:

When I gade doun to Colliestoun,
Some white-fish for to buy, buy,
The cannie clarkie follows me,
And he follows me spedily, -ly.

Or the ballad called ‘Ricadoo’ in the Appendix to Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. xxiii, No 29, where this first stanza is given:

The farmer’s daughter gade to the market,
Some white-fish for to buy;
The young squire followed after her,
As fast as he could hie. Ricadoo,
Tunaway, ricadoo a doo a day,
Raddle ricadoo,
Tunaway

Though occurring only in a late Scottish ballad, the story is somewhat old. In Gasté, Chansons normandes du XV^e siècle, MS. de Vire, No 19, p. 15, a gentleman of Orleans causes his servants to let him down a chimney in a basket, and conceals himself under a lady’s bed. She, made aware of his presence, sends her husband off to the barn, where, she says, he will find the curé, who has made love to her. On returning, the husband gets his feet into the basket, and the servants without draw the basket up. The man cries out to his wife that the devil is making away with him.

Again, in a fabliau considerably older: ‘Du chevalier à la corbeille,’ MS. of the end of the fourteenth century, F. Michel, Gautier d’Aupais, Le chevalier à la Corbeille, Fabliaux du XIII^e siècle, p. 35; Montaiglon et Raynaud, Recueil général des Fabliaux, etc., II, 183. A gentleman makes appointment to visit a lady one night when her husband is away. An old woman, the husband’s mother, sleeps in a bed beside the lady’s, and keeps strict watch over her. The gentleman’s squires hoist him in a basket over the wall of the house, so that he obtains entrance into the hall, whence he passes into the lady’s chamber. The old woman observes a disturbance, and gets up, pretending that she is going to the kitchen. In the hall she goes astray and falls into the basket. The squires, noticing a movement of the cords, pull at the basket. The old woman is ‘towed’ up and down, and knocked about, much as in the ballad. She thinks that devils have carried her off. Finally the squires let the cords go, and the basket comes flat to the ground.

The story is also told in Henri Estienne’s Apologie pour Hérodote, 1566; here, of a girl and her lover, and it is the girl’s father that gets his feet into the basket. Ed. Ristelhuber, 1879, I, 282 f.

No one looks for decorum in pieces of this description, but a passage in this ballad, which need not be particularized, is brutal and shameless almost beyond example.

* * * * *

=C= is translated by Gerhard, p. 192.

A

Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 35; “taken down from the recitation of a gentleman in Liddesdale.”

1
A fair young may went up the street,
Some white-fish for to buy,
And a bonnie clerk’s faen in love wi her,
And he’s followed her by and by, by,
And he’s followed her by and by.

2
‘O where live ye, my bonnie lass,
I pray thee tell to me;
For gin the nicht were ever sae mirk
I wad come and visit thee.’

3
‘O my father he aye locks the door,
My mither keeps the key;
And gin ye were ever sic a wily wight
Ye canna win in to me.’

4
But the clerk he had ae true brother,
And a wily wight was he;
And he has made a lang ladder,
Was thirty steps and three.

5
He has made a cleek but and a creel,
A creel but and a pin;
And he’s away to the chimley-top,
And he’s letten the bonnie clerk in.

6
The auld wife, being not asleep,
Heard something that was said;
‘I’ll lay my life,’ quo the silly auld wife,
‘There’s a man i our dochter’s bed.’

7
The auld man he gat owre the bed,
To see if the thing was true;
But she’s ta’en the bonny clerk in her arms,
And coverd him owre wi blue.

8
‘O where are ye gaun now, father?’ she says,
‘And where are ye gaun sae late?
Ye’ve disturbd me in my evening prayers,
And O but they were sweet!’

9
‘O ill betide ye, silly auld wife,
And an ill death may ye die!
She has the muckle buik in her arms,
And she’s prayin for you and me.’

10
The auld wife being not asleep,
Then something mair was said;
‘I’ll lay my life,’ quo the silly auld wife,
‘There’s a man i our dochter’s bed.’

11
The auld wife she got owre the bed,
To see if the thing was true;
But what the wrack took the auld wife’s fit?
For into the creel she flew.

12
The man that was at the chimley-top,
Finding the creel was fu,
He wrappit the rape round his left shouther,
And fast to him he drew.

13
‘O help! O help! O hinny, now, help!
O help, O hinny, now!
For him that ye aye wished me to
He’s carryin me off just now.’

14
‘O if the foul thief’s gotten ye,
I wish he may keep his haud;
For a’ the lee lang winter nicht
Ye’ll never lie in your bed.’

15
He’s towed her up, he’s towed her down,
He’s towed her through an through;
‘O Gude assist!’ quo the silly auld wife,
For I’m just departin now.’

16
He’s towed her up, he’s towed her down,
He’s gien her a richt down-fa,
Till every rib i the auld wife’s side
Playd nick-nack on the wa.

17
O the blue, the bonnie, bonnie blue,
And I wish the blue may do weel!
And every auld wife that’s sae jealous o her dochter,
May she get a good keach i the creel!

B

Communicated February, 1873, by Mr David Louden, of Morham, Haddington, N. B., as derived from Andrew Hastie, Rentonhall.

1
As bonnie may went up the street,
Some sweetmeats for to buy,
There was a young clerk followed after her,
And followed her by and by, by,
And followed her by and by.

2
‘It’s bonnie may, where do you stay?
Or where is’t that you be?
Oh if the night be neer so dark,
Awat I’ll come and visit thee.’

3
‘My father locks the door at een,
My mother keeps the key;
Gin ye were neer sic a rovin blade,
Ye canna win in to me.’

4
The young clerk has a young brither,
And a wily wag was he;
He’s made to him a long ladder,
Wi thirty steps and three.

5
And he’s put it to the chimney-top,
And the creel he’s put on a pin,
And he’s put it to the chimney-top,
And he’s let the young clerk in.

6
The auld wife she was standing by,
She heard a word was said;
‘I could lay my life,’ said the silly auld wife,
There’s a man in oor dochter’s bed.’

7
The auld man he cam doun the stairs
To see if it were true;
The young clerk was lying in bonnie may’s arms,
And she’s covered him oer wi blue.

8
‘Where are you going, dear father?’ she says,
‘Where are you going so late?
You stopped me of my evening prayers,
And oh, but they were sweet!’

9
‘The deil tak you, ye silly auld wife,
And an ill death may ye dee!
For your dochter was lyin wi the book in her arms,
And she’s prayin for you and me.’

10
The auld wife still standin no far by,
Still hearin a word, she said,
‘Ye may say as ye like, ye silly auld man,
There’s a man in oor dochter’s bed.’

11
I dinna ken what’s taen the auld wife’s fit,
But into the creel she flew;
The young clerk[‘s brither] being at the chimney-top,
He found the creel was fu.

12
He’s thrown the rope out-owre his shouther,
And to him he did draw;
He’s drawn her up, he’s drawn her doun,
He’s drawn her through and through.

13
Till the auld wife she began to cry,
I’m just departin noo!
But aye he drew her up and doun,
And drew her through and through.

14
He’s drawn her up, he’s let her doun,
He’s gien her evendoun fall,
Till every rib on the auld wife’s side
Played nick-nack on the wall.

15
It’s O the blue, the bonnie, bonnie blue,
I wish the blue may do weel!
For every auld wife that is jealous o her dochter
May be rockit to the d----l in a creel!

C

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 278.

1
As I gaed down to Collistown,
Some white-fish for to buy, buy,
The cunning clerk he followed me,
And he followed me speedily, ly,
And he followed me speedily.

2
Says, Faur ye gaun, my dearest dear?
O faur ye gaun, my dow?
There’s naebody comes to my bedside,
And naebody wins to you.

3
‘Your brother is a gallant square-wright,
A gallant square-wright is he;
Ye’ll gar him make a lang ladder,
Wi thirty steps and three.

4
‘And gar him big a deep, deep creel,
A deep creel and a string,
And ye’ll come up to my bedside,
And come bonnily linken in.’

5
The auld gudeman and auld gudewife,
To bed they went, to sleep;
But wae mat worth the auld gudewife!
A wink she coudna get.

6
‘I dreamd a dreary dream this night,
I wish it binna true,
That the rottens had come thro the wa,
And cutted the coverin blue.’

7
Then up it raise the auld gudeman,
To see gin it was true;
And he’s gane to his daughter dear,
Says, What are ye doing, my dow?

8
‘What are ye doing, my daughter dear?
What are ye doing, my dow?’
‘The prayer book’s in my hand, father,
Praying for my auld minnie and you.’

9
The auld gudeman and auld gudewife,
To bed they went, to sleep;
But wae mat worth the auld gudewife!
But aye she wakend yet.

10
‘I dreamd a dreary dream this night,
I wish it binna true,
That the cunning clerk and your ae daughter
Were aneath the coverin blue.’

11
‘O rise yoursell, gudewife,’ he says,
‘The diel may had you fast!
Atween you and your ae daughter
I canno get ae night’s rest.’

12
Up then raise the auld gudewife,
To see gin it was true,
And she fell arselins in the creel,
And up the string they drew.

13
‘Win up, win up, gudeman,’ she says,
‘Win up and help me now!
For he that ye gae me to last night,
I think he’s catchd me now.’

14
‘Gin Auld Nick he has catchd you now,
I wish he may had you fast;
As for you and your ae daughter,
I ever get kindly rest.’

15
They howded her, and they showded her,
Till the auld wife gat a fa,
And three ribs o the auld wife’s side
Gaed knip-knap ower in twa.

D

Kinloch MSS, I, 276; from Alexander Kinnear, of Stonehaven.

1
‘My father he locks the doors at nicht,
My mither the keys carries ben, ben;
There’s naebody dare gae out,’ she says,
‘And as few dare come in, in,
And as few dare come in.’

2
‘I will mak a lang ladder,
Wi fifty steps and three,
I will mak a lang ladder,
And lichtly come doun to thee.’

3
He has made a lang ladder,
Wi fifty steps and three,
He has made a lang ladder,
And lichtly come doun the lum.

4
They had na kissd nor lang clappit,
As lovers do whan they meet,
Till the auld wife says to the auld man,
I hear somebody speak.

5
‘I dreamed a dreem sin late yestreen,
And I’m feard my dream be true;
I dreamd that the rottens cam thro the wa,
And cuttit the covering blue.

6
‘Ye’ll rise, ye’ll rise, my auld gudeman,
And see gin this be true;’
‘If ye’re wanting rising, rise yoursel,
For I wish the auld chiel had you.’

7
‘I dreamed a dream sin late yestreen,
And I’m feard my dream be true;
I dreamd that the clerk and our ae dother
War rowed in the covering blue.

8
‘Ye’ll rise, ye’ll rise, my auld gudeman,
And see gin this be true:’
‘If ye’re wanting rising, rise yoursel,
For I wish the auld chiel had you.’

9
But up she raise, and but she gaes,
And she fell into the gin;
He gied the tow a clever tit,
That brought her out at the lum.

10
‘Ye’ll rise, ye’ll rise, my auld gudeman,
Ye’ll rise and come to me now,
For him that ye’ve gien me sae lang till,
I fear he has gotten me now.’

11
‘The grip that he’s gotten, I wish he may haud,
And never let it gae,
For atween you and your ae dother
I rest neither nicht nor day.’

* * * * *

=A.=

1^1. May (_not_ may).

_Dixon says_: In the present impression some trifling typographical mistakes are corrected, and the phraseology has been rendered uniform throughout.

_In 6^2, he prints_, Tho late, late was the hour; 6^4, dochter’s bower; 10^4, by our; 13^2, hinny, do; 13^3, wished me at.

=B.=

1^1, 2^1, 7^3. May (_not_ may).

1^4. by and bye.

15^1. She cries aye, It’s oh.

282

JOCK THE LEG AND THE MERRY MERCHANT

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 165.

Jock the Leg and a merchant (packman, pedlar) put up at the same tavern. Jock makes free to order a good supper at the merchant’s expense; the packman gives notice that he will not pay a penny beyond his own shot. They go to bed in rooms separated by a locked door, but before the merchant is well asleep Jock appears at his feet and rouses him; it is more than time that they were on their road. The merchant will not stir a foot till daylight; he cannot go by Barnisdale or Coventry for fear that Jock the Leg should take his pack. His self-imposed comrade promises to see him safely through these places, but when they come to dangerous ground avows himself as Jock the Leg, and demands the pack. The merchant puts his pack under a tree, and says he will fight for it till daylight; they fight; the robber finds a more than equal match, cries Hold! and begs the boon of a blast on his horn, to which the merchant contemptuously accedes. Four-and-twenty bowmen come to Jock’s help. The merchant offers to give up his pack if the six best of these, and Jock, the seventh, can drive him one foot from it. The seven make the attempt and fail. The merchant, holding his pack in one hand, slays five of the six with his broadsword, and knocks over the other. Jock declares him to be the boldest swordsman he has ever fought with; if he were equally good with the bow, he should have service with Jock’s master in the greenwood. The merchant would not join a robber-band. Jock proposes a barter of deerskins for fine linen. The merchant wants no stolen deerskins. ‘Take your pack,’ says Jock, ‘and wherever we meet we shall be good comrades.’ ‘I’ll take my pack,’ says the uncompromising merchant, ‘and wherever we meet I’ll call thee a rank thief.’

This piece, but for names (and Jock the Leg is only a thin shrouding for Little John), might have gone with the Robin Hood ballads. It was composed, probably, in the last half of the eighteenth century, and for hawkers’ purposes, but it is a better ballad, imitation as it is, than some of the seventeenth-century broadsides of the same class (which is indeed saying very little). The fight for the pack, 13, 14, 20, we have in ‘The Bold Pedlar and Robin Hood’ (also a late ballad), No 132, 6, 7, 10; the “asking” of a blast on the horn and the scornful reply, 16, 17, in ‘Robin Hood and the Shepherd,’ No 135, 15, 16, with verbal similarity in the first case. (17 is all but a repetition of No 123, =B= 26, and No 140, =B= 25.)

1
As Jock the Leg and the merry merchant
Came from yon borrow’s town,
They took their budgets on their backs,
And fieldert they were boun.

2
But they came to a tavern-house,
Where chapmen used to be:
‘Provide, provide,’ said Jock the Leg,
‘A good supper for me.

3
‘For the merry merchant shall pay it a’,
Tho it were good merks three;’
‘But never a penny,’ said the merry merchant,
‘But shot, as it fa’s me.

4
‘A bed, a bed,’ said the merry merchant,
‘It’s time to go to rest;’
‘And that ye shall,’ said the good goodwife,
‘And your covrings o the best.’

5
Then Jock the Leg in one chamber was laid,
The merchant in another,
And lockfast door atween them twa,
That the one might not see the other.

6
But the merchant was not well lain down,
Nor yet well fa’en asleep,
Till up it starts him Jock the Leg,
Just at the merchant’s feet.

7
‘Win up, win up,’ said Jock the Leg,
‘We might hae been miles three;’
‘But never a foot,’ said the merry merchant,
‘Till day that I do see.

8
‘For I cannot go by Barnisdale,
Nor yet by Coventry;
For Jock the Leg, that common thief,
Would take my pack from me.’

9
‘I’ll hae you in by Barnisdale,
And down by Coventry,
And I’ll guard you frae Jock the Leg
Till day that ye do see.’

10
When they were in by Barnisdale,
And in by Coventry,
‘Repeat, repeat,’ said Jock the Leg,
‘The words ye ance tauld me.’

11
‘I never said aught behind your back
But what I’ll say to thee;
Are ye that robber, Jock the Leg,
Will take my pack frae me?’

12
‘O by my sooth,’ said Jock the Leg,
‘You’ll find that man I be;
Surrender that pack that’s on your back,
Or then be slain by me.’

13
He’s ta’en his pack down frae his back,
Set it below yon tree;
Says, I will fight for my good pack
Till day that I may see.

14
Then they fought there in good greenwood
Till they were bloody men;
The robber on his knees did fall,
Said, Merchant, hold your hand.

15
‘An asking, asking,’ said Jock the Leg,
‘An asking ye’ll grant me;’
‘Ask on, ask on,’ said the merry merchant,
‘For men to asking are free.’

16
‘I’ve dune little harm to you,’ he said,
‘More than you’d been my brother;
Give me a blast o my little wee horn,
And I’ll give you another.’

17
‘A blast o your little wee horn,’ he said,
‘Of this I take no doubt;
I hope you will take such a blast
Ere both your eyes fly out.’

18
He set his horn to his mouth,
And he blew loud and shrill,
And four-and-twenty bauld bowmen
Came Jock the Leg until.

19
‘Ohon, alas!’ said the merry merchant,
‘Alas! and woe is me!
Sae many, a party o common thiefs,
But nane to party me!

20
‘Ye’ll wile out six o your best bowmen,
Yourself the seventh to be,
And, put me one foot frae my pack,
My pack ye shall have free.’

21
He wiled six o his best bowmen,
Himself the seventh to be,
But [him] frae his pack they couldna get,
For all that they could dee.

22
He’s taen his pack into one hand,
His broadsword in the other,
And he slew five o the best bowmen,
And the sixth he has dung over.

23
Then all the rest they gae a shout,
As they stood by the tree;
Some said they would this merchant head,
Some said they’d let him be.

24
But Jock the Leg he then replied,
To this I’ll not agree;
He is the boldest broadsword-man
That ever I fought wi.

25
‘If ye could wield the bow, the bow
As ye can do the brand,
I would hae you to good greenwood,
To be my master’s man.’

26
‘Tho I could wield the bow, the bow
As I can do the brand,
I would not gang to good greenwood,
To join a robber-band.’

27
‘O give me some of your fine linen,
To cleathe my men and me,
And ye’se hae some of my dun deers’ skins,
Below yon greenwood-tree.’

28
‘Ye’se hae nane o my fine linen,
To cleathe your men and thee,
And I’ll hae nane o your stown deers’ skins,
Below yon greenwood-tree.’

29
‘Ye’ll take your pack upon your back,
And travel by land or sea;
In brough or land, wherever we meet,
Good billies we shall be.’

30
‘I’ll take my pack upon my back,
And go by land or sea;
In brough or land, wherever we meet,
A rank thief I’ll call thee.’

283

THE CRAFTY FARMER

=a.= ‘The Crafty Farmer,’ Logan, A Pedlar’s Pack, p. 126, from a chap-book of 1796; ‘The Crafty Miller,’ Maidment, Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 208, from a Glasgow stall-copy; a stall-copy, printed by M. Randall, Stirling.

=b.= ‘The Yorkshire Farmer,’ Kidson, Traditional Tunes, p. 140, from The Manchester Songster, 1792.

=c.= ‘Saddle to Rags,’ Dixon, Ancient Poems, etc., p. 126, Percy Society, vol. xvii., taken down from the recitation of a Yorkshire yeoman in 1845.

=d.= ‘The Thief Outwitted,’ Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, XI, 112, 1873, taken down by E. McC., Guernsey, “from the recitation of an old woman now in her eighty-second year, who learnt it in her childhood from her father, a laborer from the neighborhood of Yeovil.”

=e.= ‘The Silly Old Man,’ Baring-Gould and Sheppard, Songs and Ballads of the West, 3d ed., No 18, Part I, p. 38, as sung by the Rev. E. Luscombe, a Devonshire man, about 1850 (Part IV, p. xviii).

=f.= ‘The Silly Old Man,’ Miss M. H. Mason’s Nursery Rhymes and Country Songs, p. 43, as sung in Devonshire.

An old farmer who is on his way to pay his rent imparts the fact to a gentlemanlike highwayman who overtakes him. The highwayman cautions him not to be too communicative, since there are many thieves on the roads. The old man has no fear; his money is safe in his saddle-bags. At the right time and place the thief bids him stand and deliver. The farmer throws his saddle over a hedge; the thief dismounts to fetch it, and gives his horse to the farmer to hold; the farmer mounts the thief’s horse and rides off. The thief hacks the saddle to pieces to get at the bags. Arrived at his landlord’s, the farmer opens the thief’s portmanteau, and finds in it six hundred pounds. The farmer’s wife is made very happy by her husband’s report of his performances; the thief’s money will help to enlarge her daughter’s marriage portion.

This very ordinary ballad has enjoyed great popularity, and is given for that reason and as a specimen of its class. There is an entirely similar one, in which a Norfolk (Rygate, Cheshire) farmer’s daughter going to market to sell corn is substituted for the farmer going to pay his rent: ‘The Norfolk Maiden,’ in The Longing Maid’s Garland, of the last century, without place or date;[98] ‘The Maid of Rygate,’ Logan’s Pedlar’s Pack, p. 133; ‘The Highwayman Outwitted,’ Leigh’s Ballads and Legends of Cheshire, p. 267. Another variety is of a Yorkshire boy sent to a fair to sell a cow: ‘Yorkshire Bite,’ etc., The Turnip-Sack Garland (like The Longing Maid’s Garland, one of a collection of Heber’s);[98] ‘The Yorkshire Bite,’ “from a collection of ballads _circa_ 1782,” Logan’s Pedlar’s Pack, p. 131; ‘The Crafty Ploughboy,’ Ingledew’s Ballads and Songs of Yorkshire, p. 209.

For certain ballads in which a country girl, beset by an amorous gentleman, mounts his horse and makes off with his valise or the like, see II, 483, and the page preceding.

‘The Politick Squire, or, The Highwaymen catch’d in their own play,’ is a ballad of a gentleman who, having been robbed by five highwaymen that then purpose to shoot him, tells them that he is the Pretender, and is taken by them as such to a justice. The squire makes explanations, four of the thieves are hanged, and the fifth, who had shown some mercy, is transported.[99]

* * * * *

1
The song that I’m going to sing,
I hope it will give you content,
Concerning a silly old man,
That was going to pay his rent.

2
As he was riding along,
Along all on the highway,
A gentleman-thief overtook him,
And thus to him did say.

3
‘Well overtaken!’ said the thief,
‘Well overtaken!’ said he;
And ‘Well overtaken!’ said the old man,
‘If thou be good company.’

4
‘How far are you going this way?’
Which made the old man for to smile;
‘By my faith,’ said the old man,
‘I’m just going two mile.

5
‘I am a poor farmer,’ he said,
‘And I farm a piece of ground,
And my half-year’s rent, kind sir,
Just comes to forty pound.

6
‘And my landlord has not been at home,
I’ve not seen him this twelvemonth or more,
Which makes my rent be large;
I’ve to pay him just fourscore.’

7
‘Thou shouldst not have told any body,
For thieves there’s ganging many;
If any should light on thee,
They’ll rob thee of thy money.’

8
‘O never mind,’ said the old man,
‘Thieves I fear on no side,
For the money is safe in my bags,
On the saddle on which I ride.’

9
As they were riding along,
The old man was thinking no ill,
The thief he pulled out a pistol
And bid the old man stand still.

10
But the old man provd crafty,
As in the world there’s many;
He threw his saddle oer the hedge,
Saying, Fetch it, if thou’lt have any.

11
The thief got off his horse,
With courage stout and bold,
To search for the old man’s bag,
And gave him his horse to hold.

12
The old man put’s foot i the stirrup
And he got on astride;
To its side he clapt his spur up,
You need not bid the old man ride.

13
‘O stay!’ said the thief, ‘O stay!
And half the share thou shalt have;’
‘Nay, by my faith,’ said the old man,
‘For once I have bitten a knave.’

14
The thief he was not content,
But he thought there must be bags;
He out with his rusty old sword
And chopt the old saddle in rags.

15
When he came to the landlord’s house,
This old man he was almost spent;
Saying, Come, show me a private room
And I’ll pay you a whole year’s rent.

16
‘I’ve met a fond fool by the way,
I swapt horses and gave him no boot;
But never mind,’ said the old man,
‘For I got the fond fool by the foot.’

17
He opend this rogue’s portmantle,
It was glorious to behold;
There were three hundred pounds in silver,
And three hundred pounds in gold.

18
And as he was riding home,
And down a narrow lane,
He espied his mare tied to a hedge,
Saying, Prithee, Tib, wilt thou gang hame?

19
When he got home to his wife
And told her what he had done,
Up she rose and put on her clothes,
And about the house did run.

20
She sung, and she sung, and she sung,
She sung with a merry devotion,
Saying, If ever our daughter gets wed,
It will help to enlarge her portion.

* * * * *

=a.=

_There are some slight verbal differences in the three copies, but none worthy of notice._

=b.=

1
A song I will sing unto you,
A song of a merry intent,
It is of a silly old man
That went to pay his rent,
That went to pay his rent.

2
And as he was riding along,
A riding along the highway,
A gentleman-thief steps before the old man
And thus unto him he did say.

3
‘My friend, how dare you ride alone?
For so many thieves there now be;
If any should but light on you,
They’d rob you of all your money.’

4
‘If that they should light upon me,
I’m sure they’d be very ill-sped,
For, to tell you the truth, my kind sir,
In my saddle my money I’ve hid.’

5
So as they were riding along,
And going down a steep hill,
The gentleman-thief slipped before the old man
And quickly he bid him stand still.

6
The old man, however, being cunning,
As in this world there are many,
He threw the saddle right over the hedge,
Saying, Fetch it if thou wouldst have any.

7
The thief being so greedy of money--
He thought that of it there’d been bags--
Whipt out a rusty old sword
And chopped the saddle to rags.

8
The old man put his foot in the stirrup
And presently he got astride;
He put the thief’s horse to the gallop,
You need not bid the old man ride.

9
‘Nay, stay! nay, stay!’ says the thief,
‘And half the money thou shalt have;’
‘Nay, by my troth,’ says the old man,
‘For once I have cheated a knave.’

10
And so the old man rode along,
And went with a merry devotion,
Saying, If ever I live to get home,
‘Twill enlarge my daughter’s portion.

11
And having arrived at home,
And got there with merry intent,
Says he, Landlord, show me a room,
And I’ll pay you your half-year’s rent.

12
They opened the thief’s portmanteau,
And from it they took out so bold
A hundred pounds in silver
And a hundred pounds in gold.

=c-f=, _the traditional copies, were beyond doubt all derived originally from print_. =c= _is from_ =a=; =d-f= _are from another edition, not recovered, resembling_ =b=. _This had variations, especially at the beginning and end, of which some specimens will suffice._

=d.=

1
Oh ’tis I that will sing you a song,
A song of merry intent;
’Tis about a silly old man
That was going to pay his rent.

2
And as he was riding along,
Along and alone in a lane,
A gentleman-thief overtook him,
And said, Well overtaken, old man!

3
‘You’re well overtaken, old man,
You’re well overtaken by me;’
‘Nay, further go,’ said the old man,
‘I’m not for thy company.’

4, 6 _are wanting, as also in_ =e=, =f=, (_and in_ =b=).

8^{2-4}
‘He shall but poorly speed,
For all the money I have
In my old saddle ’tis hid.’

19, 20
Oh, when that he came home,
His daughter she looked like a duchess,
And his old woman capered for joy,
And danced him a gig on her crutches.

=e.=

1
Aw come now, I’ll sing you a song,
’Tis a song of right merry intent,
Concerning a silly old man
Who went for to pay his rent.

2
And as this here silly old man
Was riding along the lane,
A gentleman-thief overtook him,
Saying, Well overtaken, old man!

3
‘What, well overtaken, do’y say?’
‘Yes, well overtaken,’ quoth he;
‘No, no,’ said the silly old man,
‘I don’t want thy company.’

8^{2-4}
‘Why, badly the thief would be sped,
For the money I carry about me
In the quilt o my saddle is hid.’

19, 20
Aw, when to his home he were come,
His daughter he dressd like a duchess,
And his ol woman kicked and she capered for joy,
And at Christmas danced jigs on her crutches.

=f.= _Resembles_ =d=, =e= _in the passages cited_.

FOOTNOTES:

[98] Also among the garlands collected by J. Bell, Newcastle, British Museum: the first, 11621. c. 2 (36), and 4 (13); the other, c. 2 (70). The garlands in 4 were printed, according to Bell, by J. White, †1769, or by T. Saint, †1788.

[99] Douce Ballads, III, fol. 78 b., London, Printed and sold at Sympson’s Warehouse, in Stonecutter-Street, Fleet-Market.

284

JOHN DORY

Ravenscroft’s Deuteromelia, London, 1609; No 1 of Freemen’s Songs, sig. B.

John Dory goes to Paris and offers King John, in return for a pardon asked for himself and his men, to bring the French king all the churls in England in bonds. Nicholl, a Cornish man, fits out a good bark, has an encounter with John Dory, and after a smart fight takes him prisoner.