The Project Gutenberg eBook of "English and Scottish Ballads",
by Francis James Child.
The Project Gutenberg eBook of English and Scottish Ballads, Volume I
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Title: English and Scottish Ballads, Volume I
Editor: Francis James Child
Release date: August 10, 2011 [eBook #37031]
Most recently updated: January 8, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Simon Gardner, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOLUME I ***
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Footnotes have been relocated following the paragraph or section
where the anchor occurs.
2. Linenotes have been grouped at the end of each ballad. Ballad line numbers have been regularised to multiples
of five and re-positioned or added where necessary.
3. Modern Greek text in "Constantine and Arete" has been transliterated using
the same scheme as for ancient Greek.
4. Archaic, unusual and inconsistent spelling or punctuation has
generally been retained as in the original. Where changes have been made
to the text these are listed in Transcriber's Notes at the end of the
book.
ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH
BALLADS.
EDITED BY
FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.
Sum bethe of wer, and sum of wo,
Sum of joie and mirthe also;
And sum of trecherie and of gile,
Of old aventours that fel while;
And sum of bourdes and ribaudy;
And many ther beth of fairy;
Of all thinges that men seth;—
Maist o love forsothe thai beth.
Lay le Freine.
VOLUME I.
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. M.DCCC.LX.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,
by LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of
the District Court of Massachusetts.
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H.O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
These volumes have been compiled from the numerous collections of
Ballads printed since the beginning of the last century. They contain
all but two or three of the ancient ballads of England and
Scotland, and nearly all those ballads which, in either country, have
been gathered from oral tradition,—whether ancient or not. Widely
different from the true popular ballads, the spontaneous products of
nature, are the works of the professional ballad-maker, which make up
the bulk of Garlands and Broadsides. These, though sometimes not
without grace, more frequently not lacking in humor, belong to
artificial literature,—of course to an humble department.[1]
As many[Pg viii]
ballads of this second class have been admitted as it was thought
might be wished for, perhaps I should say tolerated, by the
"benevolent reader." No words could express the dulness and inutility
of a collection which should embrace all the Roxburghe and Pepys
broadsides—a scope with which this publication was most undeservedly
credited by an English journal. But while the broadside ballads have
been and must have been gleaned, the popular ballads demand much more
liberal treatment. Many of the older ones are mutilated, many more are
miserably corrupted, but as long as any traces of their originals are
left, they are worthy of attention and have received it. When a ballad
is extant in a variety of forms, all the most important versions are
given.—Less than this would have seemed insufficient for a collection
intended as a complement to an extensive series of the British Poets.
To meet the objections of readers for pleasure, all those pieces which
are wanting in general interest are in each volume inserted in an
appendix.
The ballads are grouped in eight Books, nearly corresponding to the
division of volumes. The arrangement in the several Books may be
called chronological, by which is meant, an arrangement [Pg ix]according to
the probable antiquity of the story, not the age of the actual form or
language. Exceptions to this rule will be observed, partly the result
of oversight, partly of fluctuating views; the most noticeable case is
in the First Book, where the ballads that stand at the beginning are
certainly not so old as some that follow. Again, it is very possible
that some pieces might with advantage be transferred to different
Books, but it is believed that the general disposition will be found
practically convenient. It is as follows:—
BOOK I. contains Ballads involving Superstitions of various kinds,—as
of Fairies, Elves, Water-spirits, Enchantment, and Ghostly
Apparitions; and also some Legends of Popular Heroes.
BOOK II. Tragic Love-ballads.
BOOK III. Other Tragic Ballads.
BOOK IV. Love-ballads not Tragic.
BOOK V. Ballads of Robin Hood, his followers, and compeers.
BOOK VI. Ballads of other Outlaws, especially Border Outlaws, of
Border Forays, Feuds, &c.
BOOK VII. Historical Ballads, or those relating to public characters
or events.
BOOK VIII. Miscellaneous Ballads, especially Humorous, Satirical,
Burlesque; also some specimens of the Moral and Scriptural, and all
such pieces as had been overlooked in arranging the earlier volumes.
[Pg x]For the Texts, the rule has been to select the most authentic copies,
and to reprint them as they stand in the collections, restoring
readings that had been changed without grounds, and noting all
deviations from the originals, whether those of previous editors or of
this edition, in the margin. Interpolations acknowledged by the
editors have generally been dropped. In two instances only have
previously printed texts been superseded or greatly improved: the text
of The Horn of King Arthur, in the first volume, was furnished from
the manuscript, by J.O. Halliwell, Esq., and Adam Bel, in the fifth
volume, has been amended by a recently discovered fragment of an
excellent edition, kindly communicated by J.P. Collier, Esq.
The Introductory Notices prefixed to the several ballads may seem dry
and somewhat meagre. They will be found, it is believed, to comprise
what is most essential even for the less cursory reader to know. These
prefaces are intended to give an account of all the printed forms of
each ballad, and references to the books in which they were first
published. In many cases also, the corresponding ballads in other
languages, especially in Danish, Swedish, and German, are briefly
pointed out. But these last notices are very imperfect. Fascinating as
such investigations are, they could not be allowed to interfere with
the progress of the series of Poets of which this collection of[Pg xi]
Ballads forms a part, nor were the necessary books immediately at
hand. At a more favorable time the whole subject may be resumed,
unless some person better qualified shall take it up in the interim.
While upon this point let me make the warmest acknowledgments for the
help received from Grundtvig's Ancient Popular Ballads of Denmark
(Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser), a work which has no equal in its line,
and which may in every way serve as a model for collections of
National Ballads. Such a work as Grundtvig's can only be imitated by
an English editor, never equalled, for the material is not at hand.
All Denmark seems to have combined to help on his labors;
schoolmasters and clergymen, in those retired nooks where tradition
longest lingers, have been very active in taking down ballads from the
mouths of the people, and a large number of old manuscripts have been
placed at his disposal.—We have not even the Percy Manuscript at our
command, and must be content to take the ballads as they are printed
in the Reliques, with all the editor's changes. This manuscript is
understood to be in the hands of a dealer who is keeping it from the
public in order to enhance its value. The greatest service that can
now be done to English Ballad-literature is to publish this precious
document. Civilization has made too great strides in the island of
Great [Pg xii]Britain for us to expect much more from tradition.
Certain short romances which formerly stood in the First Book, have
been dropped from this second Edition, in order to give the collection
a homogeneous character. One or two ballads have been added, and some
of the prefaces considerably enlarged. F.J.C. May, 1860.
[1]
This distinction is not absolute, for several of the ancient ballads
have a sort of literary character, and many broadsides were printed
from oral tradition. The only popular ballads excluded from this
selection that require mention, are The Bonny Hynd, The Jolly
Beggar, The Baffled Knight, The Keach in the Creel, and The Earl
of Errol. These ballads, in all their varieties, may be found by
referring to the general Index at the end of the eighth volume. To
extend the utility of this index, references are also given to many
other ballads which, though not worth reprinting, may occasionally be
inquired for.
LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL COLLECTIONS of english and scottish ballads and songs.
[This list does not include (excepting a few reprints) the collections
of Songs, Madrigals, "Ballets," &c., published in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries,—the titles of most of which are to be seen in
Rimbault's Bibliotheca Madrigaliana. On the other hand, it does
include a few useful books connected with ballad-poetry which would
not properly come into a list of collections. The relative importance
of the works in this list is partially indicated by difference of
type. When two or more editions are mentioned, those used in this
collection are distinguished by brackets. A few books which we have
not succeeded in finding—all of slight or no importance—are marked
with a star.]
"A Choise Collection of Comic and Serious Scots Poems. Both Ancient
and Modern. By several Hands. Edinburgh. Printed by James Watson."
Three Parts, 1706, 1709, 1710. [1713, 1709, 1711.]
"Miscellany Poems, containing a variety of new Translations of the
Ancient Poets, together with several original poems. By the most
eminent hands." Ed. by Dryden. 6 vols. 1st ed. 1684-1708. Ed. of 1716*
contains ballads not in the earlier ones.
"Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy; being a Collection of
the best Merry Ballads and Songs, Old and New. Fitted to all Humours,
having each their proper Tune for either Voice or Instrument: most of
the Songs being new set." By Thomas D'Urfey. 6 vols. London. 1719-20.
"A Collection of Old Ballads. Corrected from the best and most ancient
Copies extant. With Introductions Historical, Critical, or Humorous."
3 vols. London. 1st and 2d vol. 1723, 3d vol. 1725.
[Pg xiv]"The Evergreen. Being a Collection of Scots Poems, Wrote by the
Ingenious before 1600. Published by Allan Ramsay." 2 vols. Edinburgh,
1724. [Edinburgh. Printed for Alex. Donaldson, 1761.]
"The Tea-Table Miscellany: A Collection of Choice Songs, Scots and
English." Edinburgh. 1724. 4 vols. [Glasgow, R. & A. Foulis. 1768. 2
vols.]
"Orpheus Caledonius, or a Collection of Scots Songs, Set to Musick by
W. Thomson." London, 1725, fol. [1733, 2 vols. 8vo.]
"The Hive. A Collection of the most celebrated Songs." In Four
Volumes. 4th ed. London. 1732.
"The British Musical Miscellany, or The Delightful Grove, being a
collection of celebrated English and Scottish Songs." London. 1733-36.
"Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads,
Songs, and other Pieces of our Earlier Poets; together with some few
of later date. By Thomas Percy, Lord Bishop of Dromore." 3 vols. 1st
ed. London, 1765. [4th ed. (improved) 1794.—London, L.A. Lewis,
1839.]
"Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, Heroic Ballads, &c." By David
Herd. 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1769. 2d ed. 1776. [3d ed. Printed for Lawrie
and Symington, 1791.]
"Ancient Scottish Poems. Published from the MS. of George Bannatyne,
MDLXVIII." By Sir David Dalrymple, Lord Hailes. Edinburgh, 1770.
[Pg xv]"The Choice Spirit's Chaplet: or a Poesy from Parnassus, being a
Select Collection of Songs from the most approved authors: many of
them written and the whole compiled by George Alexander Slovens, Esq."
Whitehaven, 1771.
"A Collection of English Songs in score for three or four Voices.
Composed about the year 1500. Taken from MSS. of the same age. Revised
and digested by John Stafford Smith." London, 1779.
"Scottish Tragic Ballads." John Pinkerton. London, 1781.
"Two Ancient Scottish Poems; The Gaberlunzie-Man and Christ's Kirk on
the Green. With Notes and Observations. By John Callender, Esq. of
Craigforth." Edinburgh, 1782.
"The Charmer: A Collection of Songs, chiefly such as are eminent for
poetical merit; among which are many originals, and others that were
never before printed in a songbook." 2 vols. 4th ed. Edinburgh, 1782.
"Select Scottish Ballads." 2 vols. John Pinkerton. London, 1783. Vol.
I. Tragic Ballads, Vol. II. Comic Ballads.
"A Select Collection of English Songs, with their Original Airs, and
an Historical Essay on the Origin and Progress of National Song." By
J. Ritson. 1788. 2d ed. with Additional Songs and Occasional Notes, by
Thomas Park. London, 1813. 3 vols.
"The Poetical Museum. Containing Songs and Poems on almost every
subject. Mostly from Periodical Publications." George Caw. Hawick,
1784.
"The Bishopric Garland or Durham Minstrel." Edited by Ritson.
Stockton, 1784. Newcastle, 1792. [London, 1809.] See "Northern
Garlands," p. xix.
*"The New British Songster. A Collection of Songs, Scots and English,
with Toasts and Sentiments for the Bottle." Falkirk, 1785.
[Pg xvi]"Ancient Scottish Poems, never before in print, but now published from
the MS. collections of Sir Richard Maitland," &c. John Pinkerton. 2
vols. London, 1786.
"The Works of James I., King of Scotland." To which are added "Two
Ancient Scotish Poems, commonly ascribed to King James V." (The
Gaberlunzie-Man and the Jollie Beggar.) Morrison's Scotish Poets.
Poets. Perth, 1786.
"The Scots Musical Museum. In six volumes. Consisting of Six Hundred
Scots Songs, with proper Basses for the Piano Forte," &c. By James
Johnson. Edinburgh, 1787-1803. [3d ed. "with copious Notes and
Illustrations of the Lyric Poetry and Music of Scotland, by the late
Wiliam Stenhouse," and "with additional Notes and Illustrations," by
David Laing. 4 vols. Edinburgh and London, 1853.]
"The Yorkshire Garland." Edited by Ritson. York, 1788. See "Northern
Garlands," p. xix.
*"A Select Collection of Favourite Scottish Ballads." 6 vols. R.
Morison & Son. Perth, 1790.
"Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry: From Authentic Manuscripts and Old
Printed Copies. By Joseph Ritson, Esq." London, 1791. [Second Edition,
London, 1833.]
"Ancient Songs and Ballads, from the Reign of King Henry the Second to
the Revolution. Collected by Joseph Ritson, Esq." 2 vols. Printed
1787, dated 1790, published 1792. [London, 1829.]
"Scottish Poems, reprinted from scarce editions, with three pieces before
unpublished." Collected by John Pinkerton. 8 vols. London, 1792.
[Pg xvii]*"The Melodies of Scotland, &c. The Poetry chiefly by Burns. The whole
collected by George Thomson." Lond. & Edin. 6 vols. 1793-1841. See p.
xx., last title but one.
"The Northumberland Garland." Edited by Ritson. Newcastle, 1793.
[London, 1809.] See "Northern Garlands," p. xix.
"Scotish Song. In two volumes." Joseph Ritson. London, 1794.
"Robin Hood: A Collection of all the Ancient Poems, Songs and Ballads,
now extant, relative to that celebrated English Outlaw. To which are
prefixed Historical Anecdotes of his Life, By Joseph Ritson. Esq." 2
vols. 1795. [Second Edition, London, 1832.]
"A Collection of English Songs, with an Appendix of Original Pieces."
London, 1798. Lord Hailes.
*"An Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, &c., by
Alexander Campbell, to which are subjoined Songs of the Lowlands of
Scotland, carefully compared with the original editions." Edinburgh,
1798. 4to.
"Tales of Wonder; Written and collected by M.G. Lewis, Esq., M.P." 2
vols. London, 1800. [New-York, 1801.]
"Scottish Poems of the Sixteenth Century." Ed. by J.G.
Dalzell. Edinburgh, 1801. 2 vols. (Contains "Ane Compendious
Booke of Godly and Spirituall Songs, collectit
out of sundrie Partes of the Scripture, with sundrie of
other Ballates, changed out of Prophaine Sanges for avoyding
of Sinne and Harlotrie, with Augmentation of sundrie
Gude and Godly Ballates, not contained in the first Edition.
Newlie corrected and amended by the first Originall Copie.
Edinburgh, printed by Andro Hart.")
[Pg xviii]"The Complaynt of Scotland. Written in 1548. With a Preliminary
Dissertation and Glossary." By John Leyden. Edinburgh, 1801.
"Chronicle of Scottish Poetry; from the Thirteenth Century to the
Union of the Crowns." By J. Sibbald. 4 vols. Edinburgh, 1802.
"The North-Country Chorister." Edited by J. Ritson. Durham, 1802.
[London, 1809.] See "Northern Garlands," p. xix.
"Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border: Consisting of Historical and
Romantic Ballads, collected in the Southern Counties of Scotland; with
a few of modern date founded upon local tradition." 1st and 2d vols.
1802, 3d 1803. [Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, vols. 1-4. Cadell,
Edinburgh, 1851.]
"The Wife of Auchtermuchty. An ancient Scottish Poem, with a
translation into Latin Rhyme." Edinburgh, 1803.
"A Collection of Songs, Moral, Sentimental, Instructive, and Amusing."
By James Plumtre. 4to. Cambridge, 1805. London, 1824. 3 vols.
"Popular Ballads And Songs, from Tradition, Manuscripts, and scarce
Editions; with translations of similar pieces from the ancient Danish
language, and a few originals by the Editor. By Robert Jamieson." 2
vols. Edinburgh, 1806.
"Ancient (!) Historic Ballads." Newcastle, 1807.
"Scottish Historical and Romantic Ballads, chiefly ancient." By John
Finlay. 2 vols. Edinburgh 1808.
[Pg xix]"Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song," &c. By R.H. Cromek. London,
1810.
"Old Ballads, Historical and Narrative, with some of modern date:
collected from Rare Copies and MSS." By Thomas Evans. 2 vols. 1777. 4
vols. 1784. [New edition, revised and enlarged by R.H. Evans. 4 vols.
London, 1810.]
"Select Scottish Songs, Ancient and Modern, with Critical and
Biographical Notices, by Robert Burns. Edited by R.H. Cromek." London.
1810. 2 vols.
"Essay on Song-Writing; with a Selection of such English Songs as are
most eminent for poetical merit. By John Aiken. A new edition, with
Additions and Corrections, and a Supplement by R.H Evans." London,
1810.
"Northern Garlands." London, 1810. (Contains The Bishopric, Yorkshire,
and Northumberland Garlands, and The North-Country Chorister, before
mentioned.)
"Bibliographical Miscellanies, being a Collection of Curious Pieces in
Verse and Prose." By Dr. Bliss. Oxford, 1813.
"Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, from the earlier Teutonic and
Scandinavian Romances, &c., with translations of Metrical Tales from
the Old German, Danish, Swedish, and Icelandic Languages." 4to. By
Weber, Scott, and Jamieson. Edinburgh, 1814.
"Pieces of ancient Poetry, from unpublished Manuscripts and scarce
Books." Fry. Bristol, 1814.
"A Collection of Ancient and Modern Scottish Ballads, Tales, and
Songs: with explanatory Notes and Observations." By John Gilchrist. 2
vols. Edinburgh, 1815.
"Heliconia. Comprising a Selection of the Poetry of the Elizabethan
age, written or published between 1575 and 1604." Edited by T. Park. 3
vols. London, 1815.
[Pg xx]*"Albyn's Anthology." By Alexander Campbell. Edinburgh, 1816.
"The Pocket Encyclopedia of Song." 2 vols. Glasgow, 1816.
"Calliope: A Selection of Ballads, Legendary and Pathetic." London,
1816.
"The Suffolk Garland: or a Collection of Poems, Songs, Tales, Ballads,
Sonnets, and Elegies, relative to that county." Ipswich, 1818.
"The Jacobite Relics of Scotland: being the Songs, Airs, and Legends
of the adherents to the House of Stuart. Collected and illustrated by
James Hogg." 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1819 and 1821.
"The Harp of Caledonia: A Collection of Songs, Ancient and Modern,
chiefly Scottish," &c. By John Struthers. 3 vols. Glasgow, 1819.
"The New Notborune Mayd." Roxburghe Club. London, 1820.
"The Scottish Minstrel, a Selection from the Vocal Melodies of
Scotland, Ancient and Modern, arranged for the Piano-Forte by R.A.
Smith." 6 vols. 1820-24.
*"The British Minstrel, a Selection of Ballads, Ancient and Modern;
with Notes, Biographical and Critical. By John Struthers." Glasgow,
1821.
"Scarce Ancient Ballads, many never before published." Aberdeen. Alex.
Laing, 1822.
"The Select Melodies of Scotland, interspersed with those of Ireland
and Wales," &c. By George Thomson. London. 6 vols. 1822-25.
"Select Remains of the Ancient Popular Poetry of Scotland." By David
Laing. Edinburgh, 1822.
"The Beauties of English Poetry." London, 1823.
[Pg xxi]"The Thistle of Scotland; a Selection of Ancient Ballads, with Notes.
By Alexander Laing." Aberdeen, 1823.
"Some ancient Christmas Carols, with the tunes to which they were
formerly sung in the West of England; together with two ancient
Ballads, a Dialogue, &c. Collected by Davies Gilbert." The Second
Edition. London, 1823.
"A Collection of Curious Old Ballads and Miscellaneous Poetry." David
Webster. Edinburgh, 1824.
"A Ballad Book." By Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. 1824. (30 copies
printed.)
"A North Countrie Garland." By James Maidment. Edinburgh, 1824. (30
copies printed.)
"The Common-Place Book of Ancient and Modern Ballad and Metrical
Legendary Tales. An Original Selection, including many never before
published." Edinburgh, 1824.
*"The Scottish Caledonian Encyclopædia; or, the Original, Antiquated,
and Natural Curiosities of the South of Scotland, interspersed with
Scottish Poetry." By John Mactaggart. London, 1824.
"Gleanings of Scotch, English, and Irish scarce Old Ballads, chiefly
Tragical and Historical." By Peter Buchan. Peterhead, 1825.
"The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern; with an Introduction and
Notes," &c. By Allan Cunningham. 4 vols. London, 1825.
"Early Metrical Tales." By David Laing. Edinburgh, 1826.
"Ancient Scottish Ballads, recovered from Tradition, and never before
published: with Notes, Historical and Explanatory, and an Appendix,
containing the Airs of several of the Ballads." By George R. Kinloch.
Edinburgh, 1827.
[Pg xxii]"Minstrelsy, Ancient and Modern, with an Historical Introduction and
Notes. By William Motherwell." Glasgow, 1827.
"The Ballad-Book." By George R. Kinloch. Edinburgh, 1827. (30 copies
printed.)
"Ancient Ballads and Songs, chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and
Scarce Works," &c. By Thomas Lyle. London, 1827.
"The Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane, and other Ancient Poems.
Printed at Edinburgh, by W. Chepman and A. Myllar in the year
M.D.VIII. Reprinted MD.CCC.XXVII."
"Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, hitherto
unpublished." By Peter Buchan. 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1828.
"Jacobite Minstrelsy, with Notes illustrative of the Text, and
containing Historical Details in Relation to the House of Stuart from
1640 to 1784." Glasgow, 1829.
"The Scottish Ballads; Collected and Illustrated by Robert Chambers."
Edinburgh, 1829.
"The Scottish Songs; Collected and Illustrated by Robert Chambers." 2
vols. Edinburgh, 1829.
"Ancient Metrical Tales: printed chiefly from Original Sources." By
C.H. Hartshorne. London, 1829.
"Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern, including the most popular in
the West of England, and the airs to which they were sung," &c. By W.
Sandys. London, 1833.
"The Bishoprick Garland, or a collection of Legends, Songs, Ballads,
&c., belonging to the County of Durham." By Sir Cuthbert Sharp.
London, 1834.
"The Universal Songster, or Museum of Mirth, forming the most
complete, extensive, and valuable collection of Ancient and Modern
Songs in the English language." 3 vols. London. 1834.
[Pg xxiii]"Hugues de Lincoln, Recueil de Ballades, Anglo-Normande et Ecossoises,
relatives an meurtre de cet enfant," &c. Francisque Michel. Paris,
1834.
"Ballads and other Fugitive Poetical Pieces, chiefly Scottish; from
the collections of Sir James Balfour." Edinburgh, 1834. Ed. by James
Maidment.
"Lays and Legends of Varions Nations." By W.J. Thoms. London, 1834. 5
parts.
"The Songs of England and Scotland." By Peter Cunningham. 2 vols.
London, 1835.
"Songs and Carols. Printed from a Manuscript in the Sloane Collection
in the British Museum." By T. Wright. London, 1836.
"The Nutbrown Maid. From the earliest edition of Arnold's Chronicle."
By T. Wright, London, 1836.
"The Turnament of Totenham, and The Feest. Two early Ballads, printed
from a Manuscript preserved in the Public Library of the University of
Cambridge." By T. Wright. London, 1836.
"A Little Book of Ballads." Newport, 1836. Printed by E.V. Utterson
for the Roxburghe Club.
"Ancient Scotish Melodies, from a Manuscript of the Reign of King
James VI., with an Introductory Enquiry illustrative of the History of
Music in Scotland." By William Dauncy. Edinburgh, 1838.
"Syr Gawayne; a collection of Ancient Romance-Poems, by Scotish and
English authors, relating to that celebrated Knight of the Round
Table, with an Introduction, Notes, and a Glossary." By Sir Fred.
Madden. Bannatyne Club. London, 1839.
[Pg xxiv]*"Frühlingsgabe für Freunde älterer Literatur." By Th. G. v. Karajan.
Vienna, 1839. (Contains English ballads.)
"The Political Songs of England, from the Reign of John
to that of Edward II. Edited and translated by Thomas Wright." London,
1839. Camden Society.
"A Collection of National English Airs, consisting of Ancient Song,
Ballad, and Dance Tunes, interspersed with Remarks and Anecdote, and
preceded by an Essay on English Minstrelsy." By W. Chappell. 2 vols.
London, 1838-1840. (see post.)
"The Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes, collected and
edited by Thomas Wright." London, 1841. Camden Society.
Publications of the Percy Society, (1840-1852.)
Vol. I. "Old Ballads, from Early Printed Copies of the Utmost Rarity."
By J. Payne Collier. 1840.
"A Collection of Songs and Ballads relative to the London Prentices
and Trades, and to the Affairs of London generally, during the 14th,
15th, and 16th centuries." By Charles Mackay. 1841.
"The Historical Songs of Ireland: illustrative of the Revolutionary
Struggle between James II. and William III. By T. Crofton Croker.
1841.
"The King and a Poor Northern Man. From the edition of 1640." 1841.
Vol. II. "The Early Naval Ballads of England. Collected and edited by
J.O. Halliwell." 1841.
"The Mad Pranks and Merry Jests of Robin Goodfellow. Reprinted from
the edition of 1628." By J. Payne Collier. 1841.
[Pg xxv]Vol. III. "Political Ballads published in England during the
Commonwealth." By Thomas Wright. 1841.
"Strange Histories: consisting of Ballads and other Poems, principally
by Thomas Deloney. From the edition of 1607." 1841.
"The History of Patient Grisel. Two early Tracts in Black-letter."
1842.
Vol. IV. "The Nursery Rhymes of England, collected principally from
oral Tradition." By J.O. Halliwell. 1842.
Vol. VI. "Ancient Poetical Tracts of the Sixteenth Century." Reprinted
from unique Copies. By E.F. Rimbault 1842.
"The Crown Garland of Golden Roses: Consisting of Ballads and Songs.
By Richard Johnson." Part I. From the edition of 1612. 1842. [Part
II., from the edition of 1659, in vol. xv.]
Vol. IX. "Old Ballads illustrating the great Frost of 1683-4, and the
Fair on the Thames." Collected and edited by E.F. Rimbault. 1844.
Vol. XIII. "Six Ballads with Burdens." By James Goodwin. 1844.
"Lyrical Poems selected from Musical Publications between the years
1589 and 1600." By J.P. Collier. 1844.
Vol. XV. "The Crown Garland of Golden Roses. Part II. From the edition
of 1659." 1845.
Vol. XVII. "Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads." [From a
MS. of Buchan's.] Edited by James Henry Dixon. 1845.
"Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, taken
down from oral recitation, and transcribed from private manuscripts,
rare broadsides, and scarce publications. Collected and edited by
James Henry Dixon." 1846.
[Pg xxvi]Vol. XIX. "The Civic Garland. A Collection of Songs from London
Pageants." By F.W. Fairholt. 1845.
Vol. XXI. "Popular Songs illustrative of the French Invasions of
Ireland." By T. Crofton Croker. 1845.
Vol. XXIII. "Songs and Carols, now first printed from a manuscript of
the Fifteenth Century." By Thomas Wright, 1847.
"Festive Songs, principally of the 16th and 17th centuries: with an
Introduction." By William Sandys. 1848.
Vol. XXVII. "Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume: from the 13th to
the 19th century." By F.W. Fairholt. 1848.
Vol. XXIX. "The Loyal Garland: a Collection of Songs of the 17th
century. Reprinted from a black-letter copy supposed to be unique." By
J.O. Halliwell. 1850.
"Poems and Songs relating to George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and
his assassination by John Felton." By F.W. Fairholt.
Vol. XXX. "The Garland of Goodwill, by Thomas Deloney." From the
edition of 1678. By J.H. Dixon. 1852.
"Popular Rhymes, Fireside Stories, and Amusements of Scotland." By
Robert Chambers, Edinburgh. 1842. [Earlier edition in 1826.]
"Selections from the Early Ballad Poetry of England and Scotland.
Edited by Richard John King." London, 1842.
"The Book of British Ballads." By S.C. Hall. 2 vols. 1842. 1844.
"The Book of Scottish Song: collected and illustrated with Historical
and Critical Notices, and an Essay on the Song-Writers of Scotland."
By Alex. Whitelaw. 1843. [Glasgow, Edinburgh and London, 1855.]
[Pg xxvii]"A New Book of Old Ballads." By James Maidment. Edinburgh, 1844. [60
copies printed.]
*Twelve Romantic Scottish Ballads, with Music. Chambers, 1844.
Publications of the Shakespeare Society:
"The Shakespeare Society Papers." Vol. I. 1844. Vol. IV. 1849.
"Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of A Midsummer Night's Dream."
By J.O. Halliwell. 1845.
"The Moral Play of Wit and Science, and Early Poetical Miscellanies
from an Unpublished Manuscript." By J.O. Halliwell. 1848.
"Extracts from the Registers of the Stationers' Company, of Works
entered for publication between the years 1557 and 1570. With Notes
and Illustrations by J. Payne Collier." 1848. Vol. II. [1570-1587.]
1849.
"The Book of Scottish Ballads; collected and illustrated with
Historical and Critical Notices. By Alex. Whitelaw." Glasgow,
Edinburgh & London. 1845.
"Essays on Subjects connected with the Literature, Popular
Superstitions, and History of England in the Middle Ages." By Thomas
Wright. 2 vols. London, 1846.
"The Borderer's Table Book: or Gatherings of the Local History and
Romance of the English and Scottish Border. By M.A. Richardson." 8
vols. Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1846.
[Pg xxviii]"The Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire," &c. By James Paterson and Captain
Charles Gray. 2 vols. Ayr, 1846-1847.
"The Minstrelsy of the English Border. Being a Collection of Ballads,
Ancient, Remodelled, and Original, founded on well-known Border
Legends. With Illustrative Notes." By Frederick Sheldon. London, 1847.
"A Book of Roxburghe Ballads. Edited by John Payne Collier." London,
1847.
"Bibliotheca Madrigaliana. A Bibliographical Account of the Musical
and Poetical Works published in England during the 16th and 17th
centuries, under the titles of Madrigals, Ballots, Ayres, Canzonets,"
&c. By E.F. Rimbault. 1847.
"A Lytell Geste of Robin Hode, with other Ancient and Modern Ballads
and Songs relating to this celebrated Yeoman," &c. By John Mathew
Gutch. 2 vols. London. 1847.
"Sir Hugh of Lincoln: or an Examination of a curious tradition
respecting the Jews, with a Notice of the Popular Poetry connected
with it. By the Rev. Abraham Hume." London, 1849.
"Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln." J.O. Halliwell.
Brixton Hill, 1849.
"The Ballad of Edwin and Emma. By David Mallet." With Notes and
Illustrations by Frederick T. Dinsdale. London, 1849.
"Musical Illustrations of Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient English
Poetry. A Collection of Old Ballad Tunes, etc. chiefly from rare MSS.
and early Printed Books," &c. By Edward F. Rimbault. London, 1850.
[Pg xxix]"The Fairy Mythology. Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of
various Countries." By Thomas Keightley. London, 1850.
"Palatine Anthology. A Collection of ancient Poems and Ballads
relating to Lancashire and Cheshire. The Palatine Garland. Being a
Selection of Ballads and Fragments supplementary to the Palatine
Anthology." By J.O. Halliwell. 1850. [Privately printed.]
"A New Boke about Shakespeare and Stratford-on-Avon." By J.O.
Halliwell. 1850. [Privately printed.]
"A Little Book of Songs and Ballads, gathered from Ancient Musick
Books, MS. and Printed." By E.F. Rimbault. London, 1851.
"The Sussex Garland. A collection of Ballads, Sonnets, Tales, Elegies,
Songs, Epitaphs, &c. illustrative of the County of Sussex." By James
Taylor. Newick, 1851.
"The Yorkshire Anthology. A Collection of Ancient and
Modern Ballads, Poems and Songs, relating to the County
of Yorkshire. Collected by J.O. Halliwell." London,
1851. [Privately printed.]
"The Norfolk Anthology. A Collection of Poems, Ballads,
and Rare Tracts, relating to the County of Norfolk." Collected
by J.O. Halliwell. 1852. [Privately printed.]
"The Illustrated Book of English Songs. From the Sixteenth to the
Nineteenth Century." Illustrated London Library. London, (about) 1852.
"The Illustrated Book of Scottish Songs. From the Sixteenth to the
Nineteenth Century." Illustrated London Library. London, (about) 1852.
[Pg xxx]"The Great Hero of the Ancient Minstrelsy of England, Robin Hood," &c.
By Joseph Hunter. London, 1852.
"The Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, &c.; with copious
specimens of the most celebrated Histories, Romances, Popular Legends
and Tales, old Chivalrous Ballads," &c. By William & Mary Howitt. 2
vols. London, 1852.
"The Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry of Great Britain,
Historical, Traditional, and Romantic: to which are added a Selection
of Modern Imitations, and some Translations." By J.S. Moore. London,
1853.
"The Songs of Scotland adapted to their appropriate Melodies," &c.
Illustrated with Historical, Biographical, and Critical Notices. By
George Farquhar Graham. 8 vols. Edinburgh, 1854-6.
"Songs from the Dramatists." Edited by Robert Bell. Annotated Edition
of the English Poets. London, 1854.
"Popular Music of the Olden Time; a Collection of Ancient Songs,
Ballads, and Dance Tunes, illustrative of the National Music of
England. With short introductions to the different reigns, and notices
of the airs from writers of the 16th and 17th centuries. Also a short
account of the Minstrels." By W. Chappell. London. Begun, 1855.
Complete in 2 vols.
"Reliques of Ancient Poetry, &c. (Percy's.) To which is now added a
Supplement of many curious Historical and Narrative Ballads, reprinted
from Rare Copies." Philadelphia, 1855.
"Early Ballads illustrative of History, Traditions and Customs." By R.
Bell. Annotated Edition of the English Poets. London, 1856.
"Ballads and Songs. By David Mallet. A new Edition, with Notes and
Illustrations and a Memoir of the Author." By Frederick Dinsdale.
London, 1857.
[Pg xxxi]"Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. Edited
by Robert Bell." London, 1857.
"The Ballads of Scotland. Edited by William Edmondstoune Aytoun." 2
vols. Edinburgh and London, 1858. 2d ed., 1859.
"The Romantic Scottish Ballads: Their Epoch and Authorship. Edinburgh
Papers. By Robert Chambers." Lond. &. Ed. 1859.
"The Romantic Scottish Ballads and the Lady Wardlaw Heresy. By Norval
Clyne." Aberdeen, 1859.
"Political Poems and Songs relating to English History, composed
during the Period from the Accession of Edward III. to that of Richard
III." By Thomas Wright. Vol. I. London, 1869. (Published by the
British Government.)
The Ballads and Songs of Yorkshire. By C.J.D. Ingledew. (Announced.)
The Jacobite Minstrelsy of Scotland. By Charles Mackay (Announced.)
The Gentleman's Magazine, *The Scots Magazine, The Retrospective
Review, The British Bibliographer, Censura Literara, Restituta, Notes
and Queries, &c.
The full titles of the principal collections of ballad-poetry in other
languages, referred to in these volumes, are as follows:—
"Udvalgte Danske Viser fra Middelalderen; efter A.S. Vedels og P. Syvs
trykte Udgaver og efter haandskrevne Samlinger udgivne paa ny af
Abrahamson, Nyerup, og Rahbek." Copenhagen, 1812-1814. 5 vols.
Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser, udgivne af Svend Grundtvig. 2 vols., and
the first part of the third. Copenhagen, 1853-58.
[Pg xxxii]"Svenska Folk-Visor fran Forntiden, samlade och utgifne af Er. Gust.
Geijer och Arv. Aug. Afzelius." Stockholm, 1814-1816. 3 vols.
"Svenska Fornsånger. En Samling af Kämpavisor, Folk-Visor, Lekar och
Dansar, samt Barn- och Vall-Sånger. Utgifne af Adolf Iwar Arwidsson."
Stockholm, 1834-1842. 3 vols.
"Altdänische Heldenlieder, Balladen, und Mährchen, übersetzt von
Wilhelm Carl Grimm." Heidelberg, 1811.
"Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Alte dentsche Lieder." Arnim & Brentano. 3
vols. Heidelberg, 1806-8. 2d ed. of first part in 1819.
"Die Volkslieder der Deutschen, etc. Herausgegeben durch Friedrich
Karl Freiherrn von Erlach." Mannheim, 1834-36. 5 vols.
"Versuch einer geschichtlichen Charakteristik der
Volkslieder Germanischer Nationen, mit einer
Uebersicht der Lieder aussereuropäischer Völkerschaften."
Von Talvj. Leipzig, 1840.
"Schlesische Volkslieder mit Melodien. Aus dem Munde des Volks
gesammelt und herausgegeben von Hoffmann von Fallersleben und Ernst
Richter." Leipzig, 1842.
"Alte hoch- und niederdeutsche Volkslieder, in Fünf Büchern,
herausgegeben von Ludwig Uhland." 2 vols. Stuttgart, 1844-5.
"Deutscher Liederhort. Auswahl der vorzüglichern deutschen Volkslieder
aus der Vorzeit und der Gegenwart mit ihren eigenthümlichen Melodien."
Von Ludwig Erk. Berlin, 1856.
"Niederländische Volkslieder. Gesammelt und erläutert von Hoffmann von
Fallersleben." 2d ed. Hannover, 1856.
No incident is more common in romantic fiction, than the employment of
some magical contrivance as a test of conjugal fidelity, or of
constancy in love. In some romances of the Round Table, and tales
founded upon them, this experiment is performed by means either of an
enchanted horn, of such properties that no dishonoured husband or
unfaithful wife can drink from it without spilling, or of a mantle
which will fit none but chaste women. The earliest known instances of
the use of these ordeals are afforded by the Lai du Corn, by Robert
Bikez, a French minstrel of the twelfth or thirteenth century, and the
Fabliau du Mantel Mautaillé, which, in the opinion of a competent
critic, dates from the second half of the thirteenth century, and is
only the older lay worked up into a new shape. (Wolf, Ueber die
Lais, 327, sq., 342, sq.) We are not to suppose, however, that either
of these pieces presents us with the primitive form of this humorous
invention. Robert Bikez tells us that he learned his story from an
abbot, and that "noble ecclesiast" stood [Pg 4]but one further back in a
line of tradition which curiosity will never follow to its source. We
shall content ourselves with noticing the most remarkable cases of the
use of these and similar talismans in imaginative literature.
In the Roman de Tristan, a composition of unknown antiquity, the
frailty of nearly all the ladies at the court of King Marc is exposed
by their essaying a draught from the marvellous horn, (see the English
Morte Arthur, Southey's ed. i. 297.) In the Roman de Perceval, the
knights, as well as the ladies, undergo this probation. From some one
of the chivalrous romances Ariosto adopted the wonderful vessel into
his Orlando, (xlii. 102, sq., xliii. 31, sq.,) and upon his
narrative La Fontaine founded the tale and the comedy of La Coupe
Enchantée. In German, we have two versions of the same story,—one,
an episode in the Krone of Heinrich vom Türlein, thought to have
been borrowed from the Perceval of Chrétien de Troyes, (Die Sage
vom Zauberbecher, in Wolf, Ueber die Lais, 378,) and another, which
we have not seen, in Bruns, Beiträge zur kritischen Bearbeitung alter
Handschriften, ii. 139; while in English, it is represented by the
highly amusing "bowrd," which we are about to print, and which we have
called The Horn of King Arthur. The forms of the tale of the Mantle
are not so numerous. The fabliau already mentioned was reduced to
prose in the sixteenth century, and published at Lyons, (in 1577,) as
Le Manteau mal taillé, (Legrand's Fabliaux, 3d ed., i. 126,) and
under this title, or that of Le Court Mantel, is very well known. An
old fragment (Der Mantel) is given in Haupt and Hoffmann's
Altdeutsche Blätter, ii. 217, and the story is also in Bruns
Beiträge. [Pg 5]Lastly, we find the legends of the horn and the mantle
united, as in the German ballad Die Ausgleichung, (Des Knaben
Wunderhorn, i. 389,) and in the English ballad of The Boy and The
Mantle, where a magical knife is added to the other curiosities. All
three of these, by the way, are claimed by the Welsh as a part of the
insignia of Ancient Britain, and the special property of Tegau
Eurvron, the wife of Caradog with the strong arm. (Jones, Bardic
Museum, p. 49.)
In other departments of romance, many other objects are endowed with
the same or an analogous virtue. In Indian and Persian story, the test
of innocence is a red lotus-flower; in Amadis, a garland, which
fades on the brow of the unfaithful; in Perceforest, a rose. The
Lay of the Rose in Perceforest, is the original (according to
Schmidt) of the much-praised tale of Senecé, Camille, ou la Manière
de filer le parfait Amour, (1695,)—in which a magician presents a
jealous husband with a portrait in wax, that will indicate by change
of color the infidelity of his wife,—and suggested the same device in
the twenty-first novel of Bandello, (Part First,) on the translation
of which in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, (vol. ii. No. 28,)
Massinger founded his play of The Picture. Again, in the tale of
Zeyn Alasman and the King of the Genii, in the Arabian Nights, the
means of proof is a mirror, that reflects only the image of a spotless
maiden; in that of the carpenter and the king's daughter, in the
Gesta Romanorum, (c. 69,) a shirt, which remains clean and whole as
long as both parties are true; in Palmerin of England, a cup of
tears, which becomes dark in the hands of an inconstant lover; in the
Fairy Queen, the famous girdle of Florimel; in [Pg 6]Horn and Rimnild
(Ritson, Metrical Romances, iii. 301,) as well as in one or two
ballads in this collection, the stone of a ring; in a German ballad,
Die Krone der Königin von Afion, (Erlach, Volkslieder der
Deutschen, i. 132,) a golden crown, that will fit the head of no
incontinent husband. Without pretending to exhaust the subject, we may
add three instances of a different kind: the Valley in the romance of
Lancelot, which being entered by a faithless lover would hold him
imprisoned forever; the Cave in Amadis of Gaul, from which the
disloyal were driven by torrents of flame; and the Well in Horn and
Rimnild, (ibid.) which was to show the shadow of Horn, if he proved
false.
In conclusion, we will barely allude to the singular anecdote related
by Herodotus, (ii. 111,) of Phero, the son of Sesostris, in which the
experience of King Marc and King Arthur is so curiously anticipated.
In the early ages, as Dunlop has remarked, some experiment for
ascertaining the fidelity of women, in defect of evidence, seems
really to have been resorted to. "By the Levitical law," (Numbers v.
11-31,) continues that accurate writer, "there was prescribed a mode
of trial, which consisted in the suspected person drinking water in
the tabernacle. The mythological fable of the trial by the Stygian
fountain, which disgraced the guilty by the waters rising so as to
cover the laurel wreath of the unchaste female who dared the
examination, probably had its origin in some of the early institutions
of Greece or Egypt. Hence the notion was adopted in the Greek
romances, the heroines of which were invariably subjected to a magical
test of this nature, which is one of the few particulars in which any
similarity of incident can be traced between the Greek [Pg 7]novels and the
romances of chivalry." See DUNLOP, History of Fiction, London, 1814,
i. 239, sq.; LEGRAND, Fabliaux, 3d ed., i. 149, sq., 161; SCHMIDT,
Jahrbücher der Literatur, xxix. 121; WOLF, Ueber die Lais,
174-177; and, above all, GRAESSE'S Sagenkreise des Mittelalters,
185, sq.
The Boy and the Mantle was "printed verbatim" from the Percy MS., in
the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, iii. 38.
This amusing piece was first published entire in Hartshorne's Ancient
Metrical Tales, p. 209, but with great inaccuracies. It is there
called The Cokwolds Daunce. A few extracts had previously been given
from the MS., in the Notes to Orfeo and Heurodis, in Laing's Early
Popular Poetry of Scotland. Mr. Wright contributed a corrected
edition to Karajan's Frühlingsgabe für Freunde älterer Literatur.
That work not being at the moment obtainable, the Editor was saved
from the necessity of reprinting or amending a faulty text, by the
kindness of J.O. Halliwell, Esq., who sent him a collation of
Hartshorne's copy with the Oxford manuscript.
This is one of the few ballads contained in the Percy MS., which we
have the pleasure of possessing as it is there written. Having first
submitted an improved copy, "with large conjectural supplements and
corrections," Percy added this old fragment at the end of the volume:
"literally and exactly printed, with all its defects, inaccuracies,
and errata," in order, as he triumphantly remarks, "that such austere
antiquaries as complain that the ancient copies have not been always
rigidly adhered to, may see how unfit for publication many of the
pieces would have been, if all the blunders, corruptions, and nonsense
of illiterate reciters and transcribers had been superstitiously
retained, without some attempt to correct and amend them."
"This ballad," the Editor of the Reliques goes on to say, "has most
unfortunately suffered by having half of every leaf in this part of
the MS. torn away; and, as about nine stanzas generally occur in the
half-page now remaining, it is concluded that the [Pg 29]other half
contained nearly the same number of stanzas." The story may be seen,
unmutilated and in an older form, in Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 298,
The Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Ragnell.
The transformation on which the story turns is found also in Chaucer's
Wife of Bath's Tale, in Gower's tale of Florent and the King of
Sicily's Daughter; (Confessio Amantis, Book I.) in the ballad of
King Henry (page 147 of this volume); and in an Icelandic saga of
the Danish king Helgius, quoted by Scott in his illustrations to King
Henry, Minstrelsy, iii. 274.
Voltaire has employed the same idea in his Ce qui plaît aux Dames,
but whence he borrowed it we are unable to say.
Worked over by some ballad-monger of the sixteenth century, and of
course reduced to dish-water, this tale has found its way into The
Crown Garland of Golden Roses, Part I. p. 68 (Percy Society, vol.
vi.), Of a Knight and a Faire Virgin.
"The subject of this ballad is evidently taken from the old romance
Morte Arthur, but with some variations, especially in the concluding
stanzas; in which the author seems rather to follow the traditions of
the old Welsh Bards, who 'believed that King Arthur was not dead, but
conveied awaie by the Fairies into some pleasant place, where he
should remaine for a time, and then returne againe and reign in as
great authority as ever.' (Holinshed, B. 5, c. 14.) Or, as it is
expressed in an old chronicle printed at Antwerp, 1493, by Ger. de
Leew: 'The Bretons supposen, that he [King Arthur] shall come yet and
conquere all Bretaigne, for certes this is the prophicye of Merlyn, He
sayd, that his deth shall be doubteous; and sayd soth, for men thereof
yet have doubte, and shullen for ever more,—for men wyt not whether
that he lyveth or is dede.' See more ancient testimonies in Selden's
Notes on Polyolbion, Song 3.
"This fragment, being very incorrect and imperfect [Pg 41]in the original
MS., hath received some conjectural emendations, and even a supplement
of three or four stanzas composed from the romance of Morte Arthur."
PERCY.
"We have here a short summary of King Arthur's History as given by
Jeff. of Monmouth and the old Chronicles, with the addition of a few
circumstances from the romance Morte Arthur.—The ancient
chronicle of Ger. de Leew (quoted above in p. 40,) seems to have been
chiefly followed: upon the authority of which we have restored some of
the names which were corrupted in the MS., and have transposed one
stanza, which appeared to be misplaced: viz., that beginning at v.
49, which in the MS. followed v. 36.
This ballad first occurs in the Garland of Good Will, and is
attributed to Thomas Deloney, whose career as a song-writer extends
from about 1586 to 1600. It is merely a rhymed version of a passage in
the Morte D'Arthur, (Book vi. ch. 7, 8, 9, of Southey's ed.) The
first two lines are quoted in the Second Part of Henry IV., A. ii. sc. 4.
The present text is nearly that of the Garland of Good Will (Percy
Society, vol. xxx. p. 38), and differs considerably from that of
Percy, (Reliques, i. 215.) The same, with very trifling variations,
is found in Old Ballads, (1723,) ii. 21; Ritson's Ancient Songs,
ii. 188; Evans's Old Ballads, ii. 5.
"Who has in prison threescore knights And four, that he has bound;
Knights of King Arthur's court they be, 40And of his Table Round."
She brought him to a river side, And also to a tree,
Whereon a copper bason hung, His fellows shields to see.
45
He struck so hard, the bason broke: When Tarquin heard the sound,
He drove a horse before him straight, Whereon a knight lay bound.
"Sir knight," then said Sir Lancelot, 50"Bring me that horse-load hither,
And lay him down, and let him rest; We'll try our force together.
"And as I understand, thou hast, So far as thou art able, 55
Done great despite and shame unto The knights of the Round Table."
"If thou be of the Table Round"[Pg 58] (Quoth Tarquin, speedilye),
"Both thee and all thy fellowship 60I utterly defie."
"That's overmuch," quoth Lancelot tho; "Defend thee by and by."
They put their spurs unto their steeds, And each at other fly.
65
They coucht their spears, and horses ran As though there had been thunder;
And each struck them amidst the shield, Wherewith they broke in sunder.
Their horses backs brake under them. 70The knights were both astound;
To void their horses they made great haste, To light upon the ground.
They took them to their shields full fast, Their swords they drew out than; 75
With mighty strokes most eagerly Each one at other ran.
They wounded were, and bled full sore, For breath they both did stand,
And leaning on their swords awhile, 80Quoth Tarquin, "Hold thy hand,
"And tell to me what I shall ask;"[Pg 59] "Say on," quoth Lancelot tho;
"Thou art," quoth Tarquin, "the best knight That ever I did know;
85
"And like a knight that I did hate; So that thou be not he,
I will deliver all the rest, And eke accord with thee."
"That is well said," quoth Lancelot then; 90"But sith it must be so,
What is the knight thou hatest thus? I pray thee to me show."
"His name is Lancelot du Lake, He slew my brother dear; 95
Him I suspect of all the rest; I would I had him here."
"Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknown; I am Lancelot du Lake!
Now knight of Arthur's Table Round, 100King Ban's son of Benwake;
"And I desire thee do thy worst." "Ho! ho!" quoth Tarquin tho,
"One of us two shall end our lives, Before that we do go.
105
"If thou be Lancelot du Lake,[Pg 60] Then welcome shalt thou be;
Wherefore see thou thyself defend, For now defie I thee."
They buckled then together so, 110Like two wild boars rashing,
And with their swords and shields they ran At one another slashing.
The ground besprinkled was with blood, Tarquin began to faint; 115
For he gave back, and bore his shield So low, he did repent.
This soon espied Sir Lancelot tho; He leapt upon him then,
He pull'd him down upon his knee, 120And rushed off his helm.
And then he struck his neck in two; And when he had done so,
From prison, threescore knights and four Lancelot delivered tho.
"Published from an ancient MS. copy in the Editor's old folio volume,
collated with two printed ones, one of which is in black-letter in the
Pepys collection." PERCY.
An inferior copy is printed in Ritson's Ancient Songs and Ballads,
ii. 193.
From an essay on the romance of Sir Guy, read by Mr. Wright before the
British Archæological Association during its meeting at Warwick, we
extract the following remarks in illustration of the history of the
present ballad, and other similar popular heroic traditions.
"As the Teutonic tribes progressed in their migrations, and settled in
new lands—and especially when they received a new faith, and made
advances in civilization,—the mythic romances of their
forefathers underwent remarkable modifications to adapt them to new
sentiments and new manners. Among people who had forgotten the
localities to which they referred, they received a new location and
became identified with places and objects with which people were
better acquainted, and in this manner they underwent [Pg 62]a new historical
interpretation. It would be no uninteresting task to point out how
many romantic tales that are soberly related of individuals of
comparatively modern history, are merely new applications of these
early myths.
"Among the romances of the Anglo-Danish cycle by no means the least
celebrated is that of GUY OF WARWICK. It is one, of the few, which has
been preserved in its Anglo-Norman form, since which it has gone
through an extraordinary number of versions, and Chaucer enumerated it
among the romances of pris, or those which in the fourteenth century
were held in the highest estimation. It is doubtless one of those
stories in which an ancient mythic romance has undergone the series of
modifications I have been describing; a legend which had become
located by popular traditions in the neighbourhood we are now
visiting, in which the contests between northern chieftains are
changed into tilts and tournaments, but in which the combats with
dragons and giants are still preserved. Whatever may have been the
name of the original hero, that which he now bears, Guy, is a French
name, and could not have been given till Norman times.
"From the Anglo-Norman poem, so great was its popularity, two or three
different English metrical versions were made, which are still found
in manuscripts, and the earliest of which, that of the well-known
Auchinlech manuscript, has been printed in a very expensive form by
one of the Scottish Antiquarian clubs. It was next transformed into
French prose, and in that form was popular in the fifteenth century,
and was printed by some of the earlier printers. It was finally
reduced to a popular chap-book in prose and a [Pg 63]broadside ballad in
verse, and in these forms was hawked about the streets until a very
recent period. Such has in general been the fate of the romantic
literature of the middle ages; a remarkable proof of the tenacity with
which it has kept its hold on the popular mind." Gentleman's
Magazine, Sept. 1847, p. 300.
Was ever knight for ladyes sake Soe tost in love, as I, Sir Guy,
For Phelis fayre, that lady bright As ever man beheld with eye?
5
She gave me leave myself to try, The valiant knight with sheeld and speare,
Ere that her love she would grant me; Which made mee venture far and neare.
Then proved I a baron bold, 10In deeds of armes the doughtyest knight
That in those dayes in England was, With sworde and speare in feild to fight.
An English man I was by birthe: In faith of Christ a christyan true: 15
The wicked lawes of infidells I sought by prowesse to subdue.
'Nine' hundred twenty yeere and odde[Pg 64] After our Saviour Christ his birth,
When King Athelstone wore the crowne, 20I lived heere upon the earth.
Sometime I was of Warwicke erle, And, as I sayd, of very truth
A ladyes love did me constraine To seeke strange ventures in my youth;
25
To win me fame by feates of armes In strange and sundry heathen lands;
Where I atchieved for her sake Right dangerous conquests with my hands.
For first I sayled to Normandye, 30And there I stoutlye wan in fight
The emperours daughter of Almaine, From manye a vallyant worthye knight.
Then passed I the seas to Greece, To helpe the emperour in his right, 35
Against the mightye souldans hoaste Of puissant Persians for to fight:
Where I did slay of Sarazens, And heathen pagans, manye a man;
And slew the souldans cozen deere, 40Who had to name doughtye Coldràn.
Eskeldered, a famous knight,[Pg 65] To death likewise I did pursue:
And Elmayne, King of Tyre, alsoe, Most terrible in fight to viewe.
45
I went into the souldans hoast, Being thither on embassage sent,
And brought his head awaye with mee; I having slaine him in his tent.
There was a dragon in that land 50Most fiercelye mett me by the waye,
As hee a lyon did pursue, Which I myself did alsoe slay.
Then soon I past the seas from Greece, And came to Pavye land aright; 55
Where I the duke of Pavye killed, His hainous treason to requite.
To England then I came with speede, To wedd faire Phelis, lady bright;
For love of whome I travelled farr 60To try my manhood and my might.
But when I had espoused her, I stayd with her but fortye dayes,
Ere that I left this ladye faire, And went, from her beyond the seas.
65
All cladd in gray, in pilgrim sort,[Pg 66] My voyage from her I did take
Unto the blessed Holy-Land, For Jesus Christ my Saviours sake.
Where I Erle Jonas did redeeme, 70And all his sonnes, which were fifteene,
Who with the cruell Sarazens In prison for long time had beene.
I slew the gyant Amarant In battel fiercelye hand to hand, 75
And doughty Barknard killed I, A treacherous knight of Pavye land.
Then I to England came againe, And here with Colbronde fell I fought;
An ugly gyant, which the Danes 80Had for their champion hither brought.
I overcame him in the feild, And slewe him soone right valliantlye;
Wherebye this land I did redeeme From Danish tribute utterlye.
85
And afterwards I offered upp The use of weapons solemnlye
At Winchester, whereas I fought, In sight of manye farr and nye.
'But first,' neare Winsor, I did slaye[Pg 67] 90A bore of passing might and strength;
Whose like in England never was For hugenesse both in bredth and length.
Some of his bones in Warwicke yett Within the castle there doth lye; 95
One of his sheeld-bones to this day Hangs in the citye of Coventrye.
On Dunsmore heath I alsoe slewe A monstrous wyld and cruell beast,
Calld the Dun-cow of Dunsmore heath; 100Which manye people had opprest.
Some of her bones in Warwicke yett Still for a monument doth lye,
And there exposed to lookers viewe, As wondrous strange, they may espye.
105
A dragon in Northumberland I alsoe did in fight destroye,
Which did bothe man and beast oppresse, And all the countrye sore annoye.
At length to Warwicke I did come, 110Like pilgrim poore, and was not knowne;
And there I lived a hermitts life A mile and more out of the towne.
Where with my hands I hewed a house[Pg 68] Out of a craggy rocke of stone, 115
And lived like a palmer poore Within that cave myself alone:
And daylye came to begg my bread Of Phelis att my cattle gate;
Not knowne unto my loved wiffe, 120Who dailye mourned for her mate.
Till att the last I fell sore sicke, Yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye;
I sent to her a ring of golde, By which shee knew me presentlye.
125
Then shee repairing to the cave, Before that I gave up the ghost,
Herself closd up my dying eyes; My Phelis faire, whom I lovd most.
Thus dreadful death did me arrest, 130To bring my corpes unto the grave,
And like a palmer dyed I, Wherby I sought my soule to save.
My body that endured this toyle, Though now it be consumed to mold, 135
My statue, faire engraven in stone, In Warwicke still you may behold.
The following rhymed legend, which, like several other pieces in this
Book, can be called a ballad only by an objectionable, though common,
extension of the term, was printed by Percy (with some alterations)
from two "ancient" black-letter copies in the Pepys collection.
Real popular ballads on St. George's victory over the Dragon exist in
several languages, though not in English.[2] Such a ballad is known
to have been sung by the Swedes at the battle of Brunkeberg in 1471,
and one is still sung by the people both of Denmark and Sweden.
Grundtvig gives three copies of the Danish ballad, two of the 16th and
17th centuries, and one of the present. Four versions of the Swedish
have been published, of various ages (e.g. Svenska Folkvisor, ii.
252). A German ballad is given by Meinert, Altdeutsche Volkslieder,
p. 254; after him by Erlach, iv. 258; and Haupt and Schmaler [Pg 70]have
printed two widely different versions of the ballad in Wendish,
Volkslieder der Wenden, vol. i. No. 285, ii. No. 195. These are
all the proper traditional ballads upon this subject which are known to
be preserved, unless we include a piece called Jürg Drachentödter
in Zuccalmaglio's Deutsche Volkslieder, No. 37, which is of
suspicious authenticity. The piece called Ritter St. Georg, in Des
Knaben Wunderhorn, i. 151, is not a proper ballad, but a rhymed
legend, like the one here printed, though intended to be sung.
The hero of these ballads, St. George of Cappadocia, is said to have
suffered martyrdom during the persecution in Syria, in the year 303.
In the 6th century he was a recognized saint both in the western and
the eastern churches, and his reputation was limited to this character
until the 13th. Reinbot von Dorn, (1231-53,) in his poem Der Heilige
Georg, (Von der Hagen and Büsching's Deutsche Gedichte des
Mittelalters,) and Vincent de Beauvais (died 1262) in his Speculum
Historiale (XII. 131-32), content themselves with recounting his
martyrdom, and appear to know nothing about his fight with the Dragon.
The first known writer who attributes this exploit to St. George is
Jacobus a Voragine (died 1298), in the Golden Legend. Of course
it does not follow that the story originated there. It is probable that
the legend of the Dragon arose at the time of the Crusades, and indeed
was partly occasioned by them, though we ought not hastily to admit,
what has been suggested, that it was founded upon some tradition which
the Crusaders heard in Syria.
The Byzantians had long before ascribed various miracles to St.
George, but it was the Normans, who, so to say, first pressed him into
active military service. [Pg 71]It was he that commanded the heavenly host that came to the help of
the Crusaders against the Turks, under the walls of Antioch, in the
year 1098, on which occasion he was seen on his white horse, bearing
the white banner with the red cross. He manifested himself again at
the storming of Jerusalem in the following year, and a hundred years
later was seen to fight in the front rank against the Moors in Spain,
and for Frederic Barbarossa, in his crusade in 1190. But though he had
entered into the service of the German emperor, this did not prevent
his aiding the orthodox William of Holland in taking Aix-la-Chapelle
from the excommunicated Emperor Frederic in 1248.—The most various
races have contended for his protection. His feast was in 1222 ordered
to be kept as a holiday throughout all England: from the beginning of
the 14th century, or since the Mongol dominion was shaken off, he has
been one of the guardian saints of Russia: in 1468, the Emperor
Frederic III. founded the Austrian Order of St. George for the
protection of the Empire against the Turks, and a few years later, in
1471, at the momentous battle of Brunkeberg, his name was the war-cry
of both parties, Swedes and Danes.
That the subjugation of the Dragon (a symbolical mode of representing
the extinction of Evil common to all times and peoples) should be
attributed to St. George, would seem to be sufficiently explained by
his having become the Christian Hero of the Middle Ages. A special
reason may, however, be alleged for his connection with such a legend.
Long before the Crusades, he was depicted by the artists of the
Oriental Church as the Great Martyr, with the Dragon (Anti-Christ or
the Devil) at his feet, and a crowned virgin (the Church) at his side.
In like manner had Constantine [Pg 72]the Great had himself drawn, and many
other saints are represented in the same way, as Theodore, Victor, and
Margaret. This symbolic representation would naturally lead to the
Crusaders making St. George the hero in an achievement which was well
known in connection with other names: and it would then not be too
much to assume that the Normans (who, as already said, were the first
to recognize his presence in battle),—the same Normans who were
properly the creators of the romantic poetry of the Middle Ages,—were
also the first to connect St. George with the conquest of the Dragon.
But however we may account for St. George's being introduced into such
a legend, so much is sure; that from the 14th century on, the story
and the hero have been inseparable: all the legendaries and all the
pictures of him exhibit him as the conqueror of the Dragon: his
martyrdom is nearly lost sight of, and in ballads is entirely
forgotten.—As to the place which was the scene of the fight,
there are many opinions. Some have fixed it in Cappadocia, others in
Lybia, others in Syria, and some European nations have assigned the
adventure to a locality within their own bounds. Thus the Wallachians
lay the scene at Orwoza, one of the Wendish ballads at Berlin, the
Germans at Leipsic, the Dutch at Oudenarde, and—the people of the
island of Funen at Svendborg!
[2] What follows is abridged from Grundtvig, Danmarks Gamle
Folkeviser, ii. 554.
Of Hector's deeds did Homer sing, And of the sack of stately Troy,
What griefs fair Helena did bring, Which was Sir Paris' only joy: 5
And by my pen I will recite[Pg 73]
St. George's deeds, an English knight.
Against the Sarazens so rude Fought he full long and many a day,
Where many gyaunts he subdu'd, 10In honour of the Christian way;
And after many adventures past,
To Egypt land he came at last.
Now, as the story plain doth tell, Within that countrey there did rest 15
A dreadful dragon, fierce and fell, Whereby they were full sore opprest:
Who by his poisonous breath each day
Did many of the city slay.
The grief whereof did grow so great 20Throughout the limits of the land,
That they their wise men did intreat To shew their cunning out of hand;
What way they might this fiend destroy,
That did the countrey thus annoy.
25
The wise men all before the king, This answer fram'd incontinent:
The dragon none to death might bring By any means they could invent;
His skin more hard than brass was found,
That sword nor spear could pierce nor wound.
30
When this the people understood,[Pg 74] They cryed out most piteouslye,
The dragon's breath infects their blood, That every day in heaps they dye; 35
Among them such a plague is bred,
The living scarce could bury the dead.
No means there were, as they could hear, For to appease the dragon's rage,
But to present some virgin clear, 40Whose blood his fury might asswage;
Each day he would a maiden eat,
For to allay his hunger great.
This thing by art the wise men found, Which truly must observed be; 45
Wherefore, throughout the city round, A virgin pure of good degree
Was, by the king's commission, still
Taken up to serve the dragon's will.
Thus did the dragon every day 50Untimely crop some virgin flowr,
Till all the maids were worn away, And none were left him to devour;
Saving the king's fair daughter bright,
Her father's only heart's delight.
55
Then came the officers to the king, That heavy message to declare,
Which did his heart with sorrow sting;[Pg 75] "She is," quoth he, "my kingdom's heir:
O let us all be poisoned here, 60
Ere she should die, that is my dear."
Then rose the people presently, And to the king in rage they went;
They said his daughter dear should dye, The dragon's fury to prevent: 65
"Our daughters all are dead," quoth they,
"And have been made the dragon's prey;
"And by their blood we rescued were, And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby;
And now in sooth it is but faire, 70For us thy daughter so should die."
"O save my daughter," said the king,
"And let ME feel the dragon's sting."
Then fell fair Sabra on her knee, And to her father dear did say, 75
"O father, strive not thus for me, But let me be the dragon's prey;
It may be, for my sake alone
This plague upon the land was thrown.
"'Tis better I should dye," she said, 80"Than all your subjects perish quite;
Perhaps the dragon here was laid, For my offence to work his spite,
And after he hath suckt my gore,[Pg 76]
Your land shall feel the grief no more."
85
"What hast thou done, my daughter dear, For to deserve this heavy scourge?
It is my fault, as may appear, Which makes the gods our state to purge;
Then ought I die, to stint the strife, 90
And to preserve thy happy life."
Like mad-men, all the people cried, "Thy death to us can do no good;
Our safely only doth abide In making her the dragon's food." 95
"Lo! here I am, I come," quoth she,
"Therefore do what you will with me."
"Nay stay, dear daughter," quoth the queen, "And as thou art a virgin bright,
That hast for vertue famous been, 100So let me cloath thee all in white;
And crown thy head with flowers sweet,
An ornament for virgins meet."
And when she was attired so, According to her mother's mind, 105
Unto the stake then did she go, To which her tender limbs they bind;
And being bound to stake a thrall,
She bade farewell unto them all.
"Farewell, my father dear," quoth she,[Pg 77] 110"And my sweet mother, meek and mild;
Take you no thought nor weep for me, For you may have another child;
Since for my country's good I dye,
Death I receive most willinglye."
115
The king and queen and all their train With weeping eyes went then their way,
And let their daughter there remain, To be the hungry dragon's prey:
But as she did there weeping lye, 120
Behold St. George came riding by.
And seeing there a lady bright So rudely tyed unto a stake,
As well became a valiant knight, He straight to her his way did take: 125
"Tell me, sweet maiden," then quoth he,
"What caitif thus abuseth thee?
"And, lo! by Christ his cross I vow, Which here is figured on my breast,
I will revenge it on his brow, 130And break my lance upon his chest:"
And speaking thus whereas he stood,
The dragon issued from the wood.
The lady, that did first espy The dreadful dragon coming so, 135
Unto St. George aloud did cry,[Pg 78] And willed him away to go;
"Here comes that cursed fiend," quoth she,
"That soon will make an end of me."
St. George then looking round about, 140The fiery dragon soon espy'd,
And like a knight of courage stout, Against him did most fiercely ride;
And with such blows he did him greet,
He fell beneath his horse's feet.
145
For with his launce, that was so strong, As he came gaping in his face,
In at his mouth he thrust along; For he could pierce no other place:
And thus within the lady's view 150
This mighty dragon straight he slew.
The savour of his poisoned breath Could do this holy knight no harm;
Thus he the lady sav'd from death, And home he led her by the arm; 155
Which when King Ptolemy did see,
There was great mirth and melody.
When as that valiant champion there Had slain the dragon in the field,
To court he brought the lady fair, 160Which to their hearts much joy did yield,
He in the court of Egypt staid[Pg 79]
Till he most falsely was betray'd.
That lady dearly lov'd the knight, He counted her his only joy; 165
But when their love was brought to light, It turn'd unto their great annoy.
Th' Morocco king was in the court,
Who to the orchard did resort;
Dayly, to take the pleasant air; 170For pleasure sake he us'd to walk;
Under a wall he oft did hear St. George with Lady Sabra talk;
Their love he shew'd unto the king,
Which to St. George great woe did bring.
175
Those kings together did devise To make the Christian knight away:
With letters him in curteous wise They straightway sent to Persia,
But wrote to the sophy him to kill, 180
And treacherously his blood to spill.
Thus they for good did him reward With evil, and most subtilly,
By such vile meanes, they had regard To work his death most cruelly; 185
Who, as through Persia land he rode,
With zeal destroy'd each idol god.
For which offence he straight was thrown[Pg 80] Into a dungeon dark and deep;
Where, when he thought his wrongs upon, 190He bitterly did wail and weep:
Yet like a knight of courage stout,
At length his way he digged out.
Three grooms of the King of Persia By night this valiant champion slew, 195
Though he had fasted many a day, And then away from thence he flew
On the best steed the sophy had;
Which when he knew he was full mad.
Towards Christendom he made his flight, 200But met a gyant by the way,
With whom in combat he did fight Most valiantly a summer's day:
Who yet, for all his bats of steel,
Was forc'd the sting of death to feel.
205
Back o'er the seas, with many bands Of warlike souldiers soon he past,
Vowing upon those heathen lands To work revenge; which at the last,
Ere thrice three years were gone and spent, 210
He wrought unto his heart's content.
Save onely Egypt land he spar'd, For Sabra bright her only sake,
And, ere for her he had regard,[Pg 81] He meant a tryal kind to make: 215
Meanwhile the king, o'ercome in field,
Unto Saint George did quickly yield.
Then straight Morocco's king he slew, And took fair Sabra to his wife,
But meant to try if she were true, 220Ere with her he would lead his life;
And, tho' he had her in his train,
She did a virgin pure remain.
Toward England then that lovely dame The brave St. George conducted strait, 225
An eunuch also with them came, Who did upon the lady wait.
These three from Egypt went alone:
Now mark St. George's valour shown.
When as they in a forest were, 230The lady did desire to rest:
Meanwhile St. George to kill a deer For their repast did think it best:
Leaving her with the eunuch there,
Whilst he did go to kill the deer.
235
But lo! all in his absence came Two hungry lyons, fierce and fell,
And tore the eunuch on the same In pieces small, the truth to tell;
Down by the lady then they laid,[Pg 82] 240
Whereby they shew'd she was a maid.
But when he came from hunting back, And did behold this heavy chance,
Then for his lovely virgin's sake His courage strait he did advance, 245
And came into the lions sight,
Who ran at him with all their might.
Their rage did him no whit dismay, Who, like a stout and valiant knight,
Did both the hungry lyons slay 250Within the Lady Sabra's sight:
Who all this while, sad and demure,
There stood most like a virgin pure.
Now when St. George did surely know This lady was a virgin true, 255
His heart was glad, that erst was woe, And all his love did soon renew:
He set her on a palfrey steed,
And towards England came with speed.
Where being in short space arriv'd 260Unto his native dwelling place,
Therein with his dear love he liv'd, And fortune did his nuptials grace:
They many years of joy did see,
And led their lives at Coventry.
The Famous Historie of the Seven Champions of Christendom, is the
work of Richard Johnson, a ballad maker of some note at the end of the
16th and beginning of the 17th century. All that is known of him may
be seen in Chappel's Introduction to the Crown Garland of Golden
Roses, of which Johnson was the compiler or the author. (Percy
Society, vol. vi.) "The Story of St. George and the Fair Sabra," says
Percy, "is taken almost verbatim from the old poetical legend of Sir
Bevis of Hampton."
The Seven Champions is twice entered on the Stationers' Registers
in the year 1596. It is here reprinted from A Collection of Old
Ballads, 1723, vol. i. 28. The same copy is in Evans's collection,
i. 372.
Now of the Seven Champions here My purpose is to write,
To show how they with sword and spear Put many foes to flight; 5
Distressed ladies to release, And captives bound in chains,
That Christian glory to increase Which evermore remains.
First, I give you to understand[Pg 84] 10That great Saint George by name,
Was the true champion of our land; And of his birth and fame,
And of his noble mother's dream, Before that he was born, 15
The which to her did clearly seem Her days would be forlorn.
This was her dream; that she did bear A dragon in her womb;
Which griev'd this noble lady fair, 20'Cause death must be her doom.
This sorrow she could not conceal, So dismal was her fear,
So that she did the same reveal Unto her husband dear;
25
Who went for to inquire straight Of an enchanteress;
When, knocking at her iron gate, Her answer it was this:
"The lady shall bring forth a son, 30By whom, in tract of time,
Great noble actions shall be done; He will to honour climb.
"For he shall be in banners wore; This truth I will maintain; 35
Your lady, she shall die before [Pg 85]You see her face again."
His leave he took, and home he went; His wife departed lay;
But that which did his grief augment, 40The child was stole away.
Then did he travel in despair, Where soon with grief he died;
While the young child, his son and heir, Did constantly abide 45
With the wise lady of the grove, In her enchanted cell;
Amongst the woods he oft did rove, His beauty pleased her well.
Blinded with love, she did impart, 50Upon a certain day,
To him her cunning magic art, And where six Champions lay
Within a brazen castle strong, By an enchanted sleep, 55
And where they had continued long; She did the castle keep.
She taught and show'd him every thing Through being free and fond;
Which did her fatal ruin bring; 60For with a silver wand
He clos'd her up into a rock, By giving one small stroke;
So took possession of her stock,[Pg 86] And the enchantment broke.
65
Those Christian Champions being freed From their enchanted state,
Each mounted on his prancing steed, And took to travel straight;
Where we will leave them to pursue 70Kind fortune's favours still,
To treat of our own champion, who Did courts with wonders fill.
For as he came to understand, At an old hermit's cell, 75
How, in the vast Egyptian land, A dragon fierce and fell
Threatened the ruin of them all, By his devouring jaws,
His sword releas'd them from that thrall, 80And soon remov'd the cause.
This dreadful dragon must destroy A virgin every day,
Or else with stinks he'll them annoy, And many thousands slay. 85
At length the king's own daughter dear, For whom the court did mourn,
Was brought to be devoured here, For she must take her turn.
The king by proclamation said,[Pg 87] 90If any hardy knight
Could free this fair young royal maid, And slay the dragon quite,
Then should he have her for his bride, And, after death, likewise 95
His crown and kingdom too beside: Saint George he won the prize.
When many hardy strokes he'd dealt, And could not pierce his hide,
He run his sword up to the hilt 100In at the dragon's side;
By which he did his life destroy, Which cheer'd the drooping king;
This caused an universal joy, Sweet peals of bells did ring.
105
The daughter of a king, for pride Transformed into a tree
Of mulberries, Saint Denis spied, And being hungery,
Of that fair fruit he ate a part, 110And was transformed likewise
Into the fashion of a hart, For seven years precise.
At which he long bewail'd the loss Of manly shape: then goes 115
To him his true and trusty horse, And brings a blushing rose,[Pg 88]
By which the magic spell was broke, And both were fairly freed
From the enchanted heavy yoke: 120They then in love agreed.
Now we come to Saint James of Spain, Who slew a mighty boar,
In hopes that he might honour gain, But he must die therefore: 125
Who was allow'd his death to choose, Which was by virgins' darts,
But they the same did all refuse, So tender were their hearts.
The king's daughter at length, by lot, 130Was doomed to work his woe;
From her fair hands a fatal shot, Out of a golden bow,
Must put a period to the strife; At which grief did her seize. 135
She of her father begg'd his life Upon her bended knees;
Saying, "my gracious sovereign Lord, And honoured father dear,
He well deserves a large reward; 140Then be not so severe.
Give me his life!" He grants the boon, And then without delay,
This Spanish champion, ere 'twas noon,[Pg 89] Rid with her quite away.
145
Now come we to Saint Anthony, A man with valour fraught,
The champion of fair Italy, Who many wonders wrought.
First, he a mighty giant slew, 150The terror of mankind:
Young ladies fair, pure virgins too, This giant kept confined
Within his castle walls of stone, And gates of solid brass, 155
Where seven ladies made their moan, But out they could not pass.
Many brave lords, and knights likewise, To free them did engage,
Who fell a bleeding sacrifice 160To this fierce giant's rage.
Fair daughters to a royal king! Yet fortune, after all,
Did our renowned champion bring To free them from their thrall. 165
Assisted by the hand of heaven, He ventured life and limb:
Behold the fairest of the seven, She fell in love with him.
That champion good, bold Saint Andrew,[Pg 90] 170The famous Scottish knight,
Dark gloomy deserts travelled through, Where Phoebus gave no light.
Haunted with spirits, for a while His weary course he steers, 175
Till fortune blessed him with a smile, And shook off all his fears.
This Christian champion travell'd long, Till at the length he came
Unto the giant's castle strong, 180Great Blanderon by name,
Where the king's daughters were transform'd Into the shape of swans:
Though them he freed, their father storm'd, But he his malice shuns.
185
For though five hundred armed knights Did straight beset him round,
Our Christian champion with them fights, Till on the heathen ground
Most of those Pagans bleeding lay; 190Which much perplexed the king;
The Scottish champion clears the way, Which was a glorious thing.
Saint Patrick too, of Ireland, That noble knight of fame, 195
He travelled, as we understand, Till at the length he came[Pg 91]
Into a grove where satyrs dwelt, Where ladies he beheld,
Who had their raged fury felt, 200And were with sorrow fill'd.
He drew his sword, and did maintain A sharp and bloody fray,
Till the ring-leader he had slain; The rest soon fled away. 205
This done, he asked the ladies fair, Who were in silks array'd,
From whence they came, and who they were. They answered him and said:
"We are all daughters to a king, 210Whom a brave Scottish knight
Did out of tribulation bring: He having took his flight,
Now after him we are in quest." Saint Patrick then replies, 215
"He is my friend, I cannot rest Till I find him likewise.
"So, ladies, if you do intend To take your lot with me,
This sword of mine shall you defend 220From savage cruelty."
The ladies freely gave consent To travel many miles;
Through shady groves and woods they went,[Pg 92] In search of fortune's smiles.
225
The Christian champion David, went To the Tartarian court,
Where at their tilt and tournament, And such like royal sport,
He overthrew the only son 230Of the Count Palatine;
This noble action being done His fame began to shine.
The young Count's sad and sudden death Turn'd all their joys to grief; 235
He bleeding lay, bereaved of breath, The father's son in chief;
But lords and ladies blazed the fame Of our brave champion bold;
Saying, they ought to write his name 240In characters of gold.
Here have I writ a fair account Of each heroic deed,
Done by these knights, which will surmount All those that shall succeed. 245
The ancient chronicles of kings, Ere since the world begun,
Can't boast of such renowned things As these brave knights have done.
Saint George he was for England,[Pg 93] 250Saint Dennis was for France,
Saint James for Spain, whose valiant hand Did Christian fame advance:
Saint Anthony for Italy, Andrew for Scots ne'er fails, 255
Patrick too stands for Ireland, Saint David was for Wales.
Thus have you those stout champions names In this renowned song:
Young captive ladies bound in chains, 260Confined in castles strong,
They did by knightly prowess free, True honour to maintain:
Then let their lasting memory From age to age remain.
This beautiful tale is transferred to these pages from Mr. Laing's
Select Remains of the Ancient Popular Poetry of Scotland. The
two "fytts" of prophecies which accompany it in the manuscripts, are
omitted here, as being probably the work of another, and an inferior,
hand. From the exordium by which the story is introduced, it might be
concluded that the author was an Englishman. Indeed, all the poems and
prophecies attributed to Thomas the Rhimer which remain to us, are
preserved in English manuscripts and an English dress; but, in the
judgment of Mr. Jamieson, the internal evidence still almost amounts
to proof that the romance itself was of Scottish origin, although no
indubitably Scottish copy is now known to be in existence.
The hero of this legend is believed to have lived through nearly the
whole of the 13th century. He derived his territorial appellation from
the village of Erceldoune, in the county of Berwick, lying on the
river Leader, about two miles above its junction with the Tweed. The
Huntly bank on which the meeting of Thomas with the Queen of Fairy
took place, is situated, according to Mr. Laing, on one of the Eldoun
hills, but the same distinction is claimed for another place of like
name, which, together with an adjoining ravine, called from time
immemorial the Rymer's Glen, [Pg 96]was included in the domain of
Abbotsford. (See Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iv. 110. v. 1.)
"During the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries, to get up a prophecy in
the name of Thomas the Rhymer appears to have been found a good stroke
of policy on many occasions. Thus was his authority employed to
countenance the views of Edward III. against Scottish independence, to
favor the ambitious views of the Duke of Albany in the minority of
James V., and to sustain the spirits of the nation under the harassing
invasions of Henry VIII. A small volume containing a collection of the
rhymes thus put into circulation was published by Andro Hart in
Edinburgh, in 1615."—CHAMBERS, Pop. Rhymes of Scotland, p. 6.
"This poem," says Mr. Laing, "is preserved in three ancient
manuscripts, each of them in a state more or less mutilated, and
varying in no inconsiderable degree from the others. A portion of it
was first printed in the Border Minstrelsy, [iv. 122,] from the
fragment in the British Museum, among the Cotton MSS.; and the one
which Mr. Jamieson adopted in his collection of Popular Ballads and
Songs [ii. 11,] was carefully deciphered from a volume of no ordinary
curiosity, in the University Library, Cambridge, written in a very
illegible hand, about the middle of the 15th century. It is now
printed from the other copy, as it occurs in a volume, compiled at a
still earlier period, which is preserved in the Cathedral Library of
Lincoln. On comparison, it will be readily perceived, that the text is
in every respect preferable to that of either of the other
manuscripts.... An endeavor has been made to fill up the defective
parts from the Cambridge copy, though in some instances, as will be
seen, without [Pg 97]success."—Mr. Halliwell has republished the Cambridge
text in his Fairy Mythology, (p. 58,) and he cites a fourth
manuscript, which, however, appears to be of slight importance.
THOMAS OF ERSSELDOUNE.
Lystnys, lordyngs, bothe grete and smale,
And takis gude tente what I will say:
I sall yow telle als trewe a tale,
Als euer was herde by nyghte or daye:
5
And the maste meruelle fforowttyn naye,
That euer was herde byfore or syen,
And therfore pristly I yow praye,
That ye will of youre talkyng blyn.
It es an harde thyng for to saye, 10
Of doghety dedis that hase bene done;
Of felle feghtyngs and batells sere;
And how that knyghtis hase wonne thair schone.
Bot Jhesu Christ, that syttis in trone,
Safe Ynglysche men bothe ferre and nere; 15
And I sall telle yow tyte and sone,
Of battells done sythen many a yere;
And of batells that done sall bee;
In whate place, and howe and whare;
And wha sall hafe the heghere gree; 20
And whethir partye sall hafe the werre;
25[Pg 98]
Wha sall take the flyghte and flee;
And wha sall dye and byleue thare:
Bot Jhesu Christ, that dyed on tre,
Saue Inglysche men whare so thay fare.
Als I me wente this endres-daye,
Full faste in mynd makane my mone,
In a mery mornynge of May,
By Huntle bankkes my selfe allone,
5
I herde the jaye, and the
'throstelle,'
The mawys menyde of hir songe,
The wodewale beryde als a belle,
That all the wode abowte me ronge.
Allone in longynge, thus als I laye, 10
Vndre nethe a semely tre,
'Saw I' whare a lady gaye,
'Came ridand' ouer a longe lee.
If I suld sytt to Domesdaye,
With my tonge, to wrebbe and wrye, 15
Certanely that lady gaye,
Neuer bese scho askryede for mee.
Hir palfraye was a dappill graye;
Swilke one I saghe ne neuer none:
Als dose the sonne, on someres daye, 20
That faire lady hir selfe scho schone.
Hir selle it was of reele bone,
Full semely was that syghte to see!
Stefly sett with precyous stones,
And compaste all with crapotee,
25
Stones of Oryence, grete plente.
Hir hare abowte hir hede it hange;
Scho rode ouer that lange lee;
A whylle scho blewe, a nother scho sange.
Hir garthes of nobyll sylke they were; 30
The bukylls were of berelle stone;
Hir steraps were of crystalle clere,
And all with perelle ouer bygone.
Hir payetrelle was of iralle fyne;
Hir cropoure was of orfaré; 35
And als clere golde hir brydill it schone;
One aythir syde hange bellys three.
'Scho led seuen grew houndis in a leeshe;'
And seuen raches by hir they rone;
Scho bare a horne abowte hir halse; 40
And vnder hir belte full many a flone.
Thomas laye and sawe that syghte,
Vnder nethe ane semly tree;
He sayd, "yone es Marye most of myghte,
That bare that childe that dyede for mee.
Scho sayde, "thu man, that ware folye; 70
I praye the, Thomas, thu lat me bee;
Ffor I saye the full sekirlye,
That syne will fordoo all my beaute."
"Now lufly ladye rewe on mee,
And I will euer more with the duelle; 75
Here my trouthe I 'plyghte to thee,'
Wethir thu will in heuen or helle."
"Mane of molde, thu will me marre,
But yitt thu sall hafe all thy will;
And trowe it wele, thu chewys the werre, 80
Ffor alle my beaute will thu spylle."
Down than lyghte that lady bryghte,
Vndir nethe that grene wode spraye;
And, als the storye tellis full ryghte,
Seuen sythis by hir he laye.
85
Scho sayd, "man, the lykes thi playe:
What byrde in boure maye delle with the?
Thou merrys me all this longe daye;
I pray the, Thomas, late me bee."
Thomas stode wpe in that stede, 90
And he byhelde that lady gaye;
Hir hare it hange all ouer hir hede,
Hir eghne semede owte, that are were graye.
And all the riche clothynge was awaye,[Pg 102]
That he byfore sawe in that stede; 95
Hir a schanke blake, hir other graye,
And all hir body lyke the lede;
Thomas laye, and sawe that syghte,
Vndir nethe that grenewod tree.
Than sayd Thomas, "allas! allas! 100
In faythe this es a dullfull syghte;
How arte thu fadyde thus in the face,
That schane byfore als the sonne so bryght!"
Scho sayd, "Thomas, take leve at sone and mone,
And als at lefe that grewes on tree; 105
This twelmoneth sall thu with me gone,
And medill-erthe thu sall non see."
He knelyd downe appon his knee,
Vndir nethe that grenewod spraye;
And sayd, "Lufly lady! rewe on mee, 110
Mylde qwene of heuen, als thu beste maye."
"Allas!" he sayd, "and wa es mee,
I trewe my dedis will wirke me care;
My saulle, Jhesu, byteche I the,
Whedir come that euer my banes sall fare."
115[Pg 103]
Scho ledde hym in at Eldone hill,
Vndir nethe a derne lee;
Whare it was dirk as mydnyght myrke,
And euer the water till his knee.
The montenans of dayes three, 120
He herd bot swoghyne of the flode;
At the laste, he sayde, "full wa es mee!
Almaste I dye, for fawte of fude."
Scho lede hym in till a faire herbere,
Whare frwte was 'growyng in gret plentee;' 125
Pers and appill, bothe rype thay were,
The date, and als the damasee;
The fygge, and als so the wyne-berye;
The nyghtyngales lyggande on thair neste;
The papeioyes faste abowte gan flye; 130
And throstylls sange, wolde hafe no reste.
He pressede to pulle frowte with his hande,
Als man for fude that was nere faynt;
Scho sayd, "Thomas, thu late tham stande,
Or ells the fende the will atteynt.
135
"If thu it plokk, sothely to say,
Thi saule gose to the fyre of helle;
It comes neuer owte or Domesdaye,
Bot ther in payne ay for to duelle.
[Pg 104]
"Thomas, sothely, I the hyghte, 140
Come lygge thyn hede down on my knee,
And 'thou' sall se the fayreste syghte,
That euer sawe man of thi contree."
He did in hye als scho hym badde;
Appone hir knee his hede he layde, 145
Ffor hir to paye he was full glade,
And than that lady to him sayde—
"Seese thu nowe yone faire waye,
That lyggis ouer yone heghe montayne?—
Yone es the waye to heuen for aye, 150
When synfull sawles are passed ther payne.
"Seese thu nowe yone other waye,
That lygges lawe by nethe yone rysse?
Yone es the waye, the sothe to saye,
Vnto the joye of paradyse.
155
"Seese thu yitt yone third waye,
That ligges vnder yone grene playne?
Yone es the waye, with tene and traye,
Whare synfull saulis suffiris thare payne.
"Bot seese thu nowe yone forthe waye, 160
That lygges ouer yone depe delle?
Yone es the way, so waylawaye,
Vnto the byrnande fyre of hell.
[Pg 105]
"Seese thu yitt yone faire castelle,
That standes vpone yone heghe hill? 165
Of towne and towre, it beris the belle;
In erthe es none lyk it vntill.
"Ffor sothe, Thomas, yone es myn awenn,
And the kynges of this countree;
Bot me ware leuer hanged and drawen, 170
Or that he wyste thou laye me by.
"When thu commes to yone castelle gay,
I pray the curtase man to bee;
And whate so any man to the saye,
Luke thu answere none bott mee.
175
"My lorde es seruede at ylk a mese,
With thritty knyghttis faire and free;
I sail saye, syttande at the dasse,
I tuke thi speche byyonde the see."
Thomas still als stane he stude. 180
And he byhelde that lady gaye;
Scho come agayne als faire and gude,
And al so ryche one hir palfraye.
Hir grewe hundis fillide with dere blode;
Hir rachis couplede, by my faye; 185
Scho blewe hir horne with mayne and mode,
Vnto the castelle scho tuk the waye.
[Pg 106]
In to the haulle sothely scho went;
Thomas foloued at hir hande;
Than ladyes come, bothe faire and gent, 190
With curtassye to hit knelande.
Harpe and fethill bothe thay fande,
Getterne, and als so the sawtrye;
Lutte and rybybe, bothe gangande,
And all manere of mynstralsye.
195
The most meruelle that Thomas thoghte,
When that he stode appon the flore;
Ffor feftty hertes in were broghte,
That were bothe 'largely' grete and store.
Raches laye lapande in the blode, 200
Cokes come with dryssynge knyfe;
They brittened tham als thay were wode;
Reuelle amanges thame was full ryfe.
Knyghtis dawnsede by three and three,
Thare was revelle, gamen, and playe, 205
Lufly ladyes, faire and free,
That satte and sange one riche araye.
Thomas duellide in that solace
More than I yowe save, perde;
Till one a daye, so hafe I grace, 210
My lufly lady sayde to mee:
[Pg 107]
"Do busk the, Thomas,—the
busk agayne,
Ffor thu may here no lengare be;
Hye the faste, with myghte and mayne;
I sall the brynge till Eldone tree."
215
Thomas sayde than with heuy chere;
"Lufly lady, nowe late me bee;
Ffor certis, lady, I hafe bene here
Noghte bot the space of dayes three.
"Ffor sothe, Thomas, als I the telle, 220
Thou hase bene here thre yere and more;
Bot langere here thu may noghte dwelle;
The skylle I sall the telle wherefore.
"To morne, of helle the foulle fende
Amange this folke will feche his fee; 225
And thu arte mekill man and hende,
I trowe full wele he wolde chese the.
"Ffor all the gold that euer may bee,
Ffro hethyn unto the worldis ende,
Thou bese neuer betrayede for mee; 230
Therefore with me I rede thou wende."
Scho broghte hym agayne to Eldone tree,
Vndir nethe that grenewode spraye;
In Huntlee bannkes es mery to bee,
Whare fowles synges bothe nyght and daye.
[Pg 108]235
"Fferre owtt in yone mountane graye,
Thomas, my fawkon byggis a neste;—
A fawcoun is an eglis praye;
Fforthi in na place may he reste.
"Ffare well, Thomas; I wend my waye; 240
Ffor me byhouys ouer thir benttis brown."
—Loo here a fytt: more es to saye,
All of Thomas of Erselldown.—
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, (iv. 117.) "Given from a copy
obtained from a lady residing not far from Ercildoune, corrected and
enlarged by one in Mrs. Brown's MSS."
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank; A ferlie he spied wi' his ee;
And there he saw a ladye bright, Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.
5
Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
True Thomas, he pull'd aff his cap, 10And louted low down to his knee:
"All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven! For thy peer on earth I never did see."—
[Pg 110]
"O no, O no, Thomas," she said, "That name does not belang to me; 15
I am but the Queen of fair Elfland, That am hither come to visit thee.
"Harp and carp, Thomas," she said; "Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips, 20Sure of your bodie I will be."
"Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird shall never daunton me."—
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips, All underneath the Eildon Tree.
25
"Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said; "True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years, Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be."
She mounted on her milk-white steed; 30She's ta'en true Thomas up behind:
And aye, whene'er her bridle rung, The steed flew swifter than the wind.
O they rade on, and farther on; The steed gaed swifter than the wind; 35
Until they reach'd a desert wide, And living land was left behind.
[Pg 111]
"Light down, light down, now, true Thomas, And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide and rest a little space, 40And I will shew you ferlies three.
"O see ye not yon narrow road, So thick beset with thorns and briers?
That is the path of righteousness, Though after it but few enquires.
45
"And see ye not that braid braid road, That lies across that lily leven?
That is the path of wickedness, Though some call it the road to heaven.
"And see not ye that bonny road, 50That winds about the fernie brae?
That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae.
"But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see; 55
For, if you speak word in Elfyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie."
O they rade on, and farther on, And they waded through rivers aboon the knee,
And they saw neither sun nor moon, 60But they heard the roaring of the sea.
[Pg 112]
It was mirk mirk night, and there was nae stern light, And they waded through red blude to the knee;
For a' the blude that's shed on earth Rins through the springs o' that countrie.
65
Syne they came on to a garden green, And she pu'd an apple frae a tree—
"Take this for thy wages, true Thomas; It will give thee the tongue that can never lie."—
"My tongue is mine ain," true Thomas said; 70"A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!
I neither dought to buy nor sell, At fair or tryst where I may be.
"I dought neither speak to prince or peer, Nor ask of grace from fair ladye."— 75
"Now hold thy peace!" the lady said, "For as I say, so must it be."—
[Pg 113]
He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, And a pair of shoes of velvet green;
And till seven years were gane and past, 80True Thomas on earth was never seen.
70. The traditional commentary upon this ballad informs us,
that the apple was the produce of the fatal Tree of Knowledge, and
that the garden was the terrestrial paradise. The repugnance of Thomas
to be debarred the use of falsehood, when he might find it convenient,
has a comic effect. SCOTT.
The Tayl of the Yong Tamlene is mentioned in the Complaynt of
Scotland, (1548,) and the dance of Thom of Lyn is noticed in
the same work. A considerable fragment of this ballad was printed by
Herd, (vol. i. 215,) under the title of Kertonha', a corruption of
Carterhaugh; another is furnished in Maidment's New Book of Old
Ballads, (p. 54,) and a nearly complete version in Johnson's
Museum, (p. 423,) which, with some alterations, was inserted in the
Tales of Wonder, (No. 58.) The present edition, prepared by Sir
Walter Scott from a collation of various copies, is longer than any
other, but was originally disfigured by several supposititious stanzas
here omitted. Another version, with Maidment's fragment, will be found
in the Appendix to this volume.
"Carterhaugh is a plain, at the conflux of the Ettrick and Yarrow in
Selkirkshire, about a mile above Selkirk, and two miles below Newark
Castle; a romantic ruin which overhangs the Yarrow, and which is said
to have been the habitation of our heroine's father, though others
place his residence in the tower of Oakwood. The peasants point out,
upon the plain, those electrical rings, which vulgar credulity
supposes to be traces of the Fairy revels. Here, they say, were
placed [Pg 115]the stands of milk, and of water, in which Tamlane was
dipped, in order to effect the disenchantment; and upon these spots,
according to their mode of expressing themselves, the grass will never
grow. Miles Cross, (perhaps a corruption of Mary's Cross,) where fair
Janet awaited the arrival of the Fairy train, is said to have stood
near the Duke of Buccleuch's seat of Bow-hill, about half a mile from
Carterhaugh."—(SCOTT'S Minstrelsy, ii. 334, at the end of a
most interesting essay, introductory to this tale, on the Fairies of
Popular Superstition.)
"O I forbid ye, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tamlane is there.
5
"There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh, But maun leave him a wad,
Either gowd rings, or green mantles, Or else their maidenheid.
"Now gowd rings ye may buy, maidens, 10Green mantles ye may spin;
But, gin ye lose your maidenheid, Ye'll ne'er get that agen."—
But up then spak her, fair Janet, The fairest o' a' her kin; 15
"I'll cum and gang to Carterhaugh; And ask nae leave o' him."—
[Pg 116]
Janet has kilted her green kirtle, A little abune her knee;
And she has braided her yellow hair, 20A little abune her bree.
And when she came to Carterhaugh, She gaed beside the well;
And there she fand his steed standing, But away was himsell.
25
She hadna pu'd a red red rose, A rose but barely three;
Till up and starts a wee wee man, At lady Janet's knee.
Says—"Why pu' ye the rose, Janet? 30What gars ye break the tree?
Or why come ye to Carterhaugh, Withouten leave o' me?"—
Says—"Carterhaugh it is mine ain; My daddie gave it me; 35
I'll come and gang to Carterhaugh, And ask nae leave o' thee."
He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, Among the leaves sae green;
And what they did, I cannot tell— 40The green leaves were between.
[Pg 117]
He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, Among the roses red;
And what they did, I cannot say— She ne'er return'd a maid.
45
When she cam to her father's ha', She looked pale and wan;
They thought she'd dreed some sair sickness, Or been with some leman.
She didna comb her yellow hair, 50Nor make meikle o'er her head;
And ilka thing that lady took, Was like to be her deid.
It's four and twenty ladies fair Were playing at the ba'; 55
Janet, the wightest of them anes, Was faintest o' them a'.
Four and twenty ladies fair Were playing at the chess;
And out there came the fair Janet, 60As green as any grass.
Out and spak an auld grey-headed knight, Lay o'er the castle wa',—
"And ever, alas! for thee, Janet, But we'll be blamed a'!"—
[Pg 118]65
"Now haud your tongue, ye auld grey knight! And an ill deid may ye die;
Father my bairn on whom I will, I'll father nane on thee."—
Out then spak her father dear, 70And he spak meik and mild—
"And ever, alas! my sweet Janet, I fear ye gae with child."—
"And if I be with child, father, Mysell maun bear the blame; 75
There's ne'er a knight about your ha' Shall hae the bairnie's name.
"And if I be with child, father, 'Twill prove a wondrous birth;
For weel I swear I'm not wi' bairn 80To any man on earth.
"If my love were an earthly knight, As he's an elfin grey,
I wadna gie my ain true love For nae lord that ye hae."
85
She prink'd hersell and prinn'd hersell, By the ae light of the moon,
And she's away to Carterhaugh, To speak wi' young Tamlane.
[Pg 119]
And when she came to Carterhaugh, 90She gaed beside the well;
And there she saw the steed standing, But away was himsell.
She hadna pu'd a double rose, A rose but only twae, 95
When up and started young Tamlane, Says—"Lady, thou pu's nae mae!
"Why pu' ye the rose, Janet, Within this garden grene,
And a' to kill the bonny babe, 100That we got us between?"
"The truth ye'll tell to me, Tamlane; A word ye mauna lie;
Gin e'er ye was in haly chapel, Or sained in Christentie?"
105
"The truth I'll tell to thee, Janet, A word I winna lie;
A knight me got, and a lady me bore, As well as they did thee.
"Randolph, Earl Murray, was my sire, 110Dunbar, Earl March, is thine;
We loved when we were children small, Which yet you well may mind.
[Pg 120]
"When I was a boy just turn'd of nine, My uncle sent for me, 115
To hunt, and hawk, and ride with him, And keep him companie.
"There came a wind out of the north, A sharp wind and a snell;
And a deep sleep came over me, 120And frae my horse I fell.
"The Queen of Fairies keppit me, In yon green hill to dwell;
And I'm a fairy, lyth and limb; Fair ladye, view me well.
125
"Then would I never tire, Janet, In Elfish land to dwell;
But aye, at every seven years, They pay the teind to hell;
And I am sae fat and fair of flesh, 130I fear 'twill be mysell.
"This night is Hallowe'en, Janet, The morn is Hollowday;
And, gin ye dare your true love win, Ye hae nae time to stay.
135
"The night it is good Hallowe'en, When fairy folk will ride;
And they that wad their true-love win,[Pg 121] At Miles Cross they maun bide."
"But how shall I thee ken, Tamlane? 140Or how shall I thee knaw,
Amang so many unearthly knights, The like I never saw?"
"The first company that passes by, Say na, and let them gae; 145
The next company that passes by, Sae na, and do right sae;
The third company that passes by, Then I'll be ane o' thae.
"First let pass the black, Janet, 150And syne let pass the brown;
But grip ye to the milk-white steed, And pu' the rider down.
"For I ride on the milk-white steed, And aye nearest the town; 155
Because I was a christen'd knight, They gave me that renown.
[Pg 122]
"My right hand will be gloved, Janet, My left hand will be bare;
And these the tokens I gie thee, 160Nae doubt I will be there.
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, An adder and a snake;
But had me fast, let me not pass, Gin ye wad buy me maik.
165
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, An adder and an ask;
They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, A bale that burns fast.
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, 170A red-hot gad o' airn;
But haud me fast, let me not pass, For I'll do you no harm.
"First dip me in a stand o' milk, And then in a stand o' water; 175
But had me fast, let me not pass— I'll be your bairn's father.
"And, next, they'll shape me in your arms, A tod, but and an eel;
But had me fast, nor let me gang, 180As you do love me weel.
"They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, A dove, but and a swan;
And, last, they'll shape me in your arms A mother-naked man: 185
Cast your green mantle over me—[Pg 123] I'll be myself again."—
Gloomy, gloomy, was the night, And eiry was the way,
As fair Janet, in her green mantle, 190To Miles Cross she did gae.
Betwixt the hours of twelve and one, A north wind tore the bent;
And straight she heard strange elritch sounds Upon that wind which went.
195
About the dead hour o' the night, She heard the bridles ring;
And Janet was as glad o' that As any earthly thing.
Will o' Wisp before them went, 200Sent forth a twinkling light;
And soon she saw the Fairy bands All riding in her sight.
And first gaed by the black black steed, And then gaed by the brown; 205
But fast she gript the milk-white steed, And pu'd the rider down.
She pu'd him frae the milk-white steed, And loot the bridle fa';
And up there raise an erlish cry—[Pg 124] 210"He's won amang us a'!"—
They shaped him in fair Janet's arms, An esk, but and an adder;
She held him fast in every shape— To be her bairn's father.
215
They shaped him in her arms at last, A mother-naked man:
She wrapt him in her green mantle, And sae her true love wan!
Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies, 220Out o' a bush o' broom—
"She that has borrow'd young Tamlane, Has gotten a stately groom."—
Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies, Out o' a bush o' rye— 225
"She's ta'en awa the bonniest knight In a' my cumpanie.
"But had I kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, "A lady wad borrow'd thee—
I wad ta'en out thy twa grey een, 230Put in twa een o' tree.
"Had I but kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, "Before ye came frae hame—
I wad ta'en out your heart o' flesh,[Pg 125] Put in a heart o' stane.
235
"Had I but had the wit yestreen That I hae coft the day—
I'd paid my kane seven times to hell Ere you'd been won away!"
130. See Thomas of Ersseldoune, (p. 107,) v. 225, 226.
V. 157-168, v. 208-214. The same process of disenchantment is found in
the Danish ballad Nattergalen, st. 20-22, Grundtvig, No. 57 (also
Svenska Folk-visor, No. 41). The comparison with the
transformations of Proteus is curious.
Verum ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis,
Tum variæ eludent species atque ora ferarum:
Fiet enim subito sus horridus atraque tigris,
Squamosusque draco, et fulva cervice leæna,
Aut acrem flammæ sonitum dabit, atque ita vinclis
Excidet, aut in aquas tenues dilapsus abibit.
Sed quanto ille magis formas se vertet in omnes,
Tanto, nate, magis contende tenacia vincla.
This ballad will be found, in forms slightly varying, in Herd, (i.
156;) Caw's Poetical Museum, (p. 348;) Motherwell's Minstrelsy,
(p. 343;) and Buchan's Ancient Ballads, (i. 263.) It bears some
resemblance to the beginning of the remarkable poem, Als Y Yod on ay
Mounday, (see Appendix). The present version is from the Poetical
Museum.
As I was walking by my lane, Atween a water and a wa,
There sune I spied a wee wee man, He was the least that eir I saw.
5
His legs were scant a shathmont's length, And sma and limber was his thie; Atween his shoulders was ae span, About his middle war but three.
He has tane up a meikle stane, 10And flang't as far as I cold see;
Ein thouch I had been Wallace wicht, I dought na lift it to my knie.
[Pg 127]
"O wee wee man, but ye be strang! Tell me whar may thy dwelling be?" 15
"I dwell beneth that bonnie bouir, O will ye gae wi me and see?"
On we lap, and awa we rade, Till we cam to a bonny green;
We lichted syne to bait our steid, 20And out there cam a lady sheen;
Wi four and twentie at her back, A' comely cled in glistering green;
Thouch there the King of Scots had stude, The warst micht weil hae been his queen.
25
On syne we past wi wondering cheir, Till we cam to a bonny ha;
The roof was o the beaten gowd, The flure was o the crystal a.
7. Much better in Motherwell. Between his een there was a span Betwixt his shoulders there were ells three
29-32. There were pipers playing in every neuk, And ladies dancing, jimp and sma'; And aye the owreturn o' their tune Was, "Our wee wee man has been lang awa!"— Motherwell.
Reprinted from A Collection of Curious Old Ballads and Miscellaneous
Poetry, Edinburgh. David Webster, 1824.
Other versions are given in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, (see the
Appendix to this volume;)
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, (p.145;) Buchan's
Ancient Ballads, (ii. 296.)
Similar collections of impossibilities in The Trooper and Fair Maid,
Buchan, i. 230; Robin's Tesment, id., i. 273, or Aytoun, 2d ed. ii.
197; As I was walking under a grove, Pills to purge Melancholy, v.
370. See also post, vol. ii. 224, 352, vol. iv. 132, 287; and in
German, Von eitel unmöglichen Dingen, Erk's Liederhort, p. 334-37;
Uhland, Eitle Dinge, No. 4, A, B; Wunderhorn, ii. 410.
The Elfin knight sits on yon hill, Ba, ba, ba, lillie ba.
He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill. The wind hath blawn my plaid awa.
He blaws it east, he blaws it west,
He blaws it where he liketh best.
5
"I wish that horn were in my kist,
Yea, and the knight in my arms niest."
She had no sooner these words said,
Than the knight came to her bed.
[Pg 129]
"Thou art o'er young a maid," quoth he, 10
"Married with me, that thou would'st be."
"I have a sister, younger than I,
And she was married yesterday."
"Married with me if thou would'st be,
A curtisie thou must do to me.
15
"It's ye maun mak a sark to me,
Without any cut or seam," quoth he;
"And ye maun shape it, knife-, sheerless,
And also sew it needle-, threedless."
"If that piece of courtisie I do to thee, 20
Another thou must do to me.
"I have an aiker of good ley land,
Which lyeth low by yon sea strand;
"It's ye maun till't wi' your touting horn,
And ye maun saw't wi' the pepper corn;
25
"And ye maun harrow't wi' a thorn,
And hae your wark done ere the morn;
"And ye maun shear it wi' your knife,
And no lose a stack o't for your life;
[Pg 130]
"And ye maun stack it in a mouse hole, 30
And ye maun thrash it in your shoe sole;
"And ye maun dight it in your loof,
And also sack it in your glove;
"And
ye maun bring it over the sea,
Fair, and clean, and dry to me;
35
"And when that ye have done your wark,
Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark."
"I'll not quite my plaid for my life;
It haps my seven bairnes and my wife."
"My maidenhead I'll then keep still, 40
Let the Elfin knight do what he will.
"My plaid awa, my plaid away,
And owre the hills and far awa,
And far awa to Norowa',
My plaid shall not be blawn awa."
A fragment of this ballad was printed in Herd's Collection, ("I'll
wager, I'll wager," i. 226.) The present version is from the Border
Minstrelsy, (iii. 28,) and we have added another from Kinloch's
Ancient Scottish Ballads. A somewhat longer copy is given in
Buchan's Ballads, (ii. 291,) and a modernized English one, of no
value, (The West Country Wager,) in Ancient Poems, &c.,
Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 116.
Brume, brume on hil, is mentioned in the Complaynt of
Scotland, and formed part of Captain Cox's well-known collection.
A Danish ballad exhibits the same theme, though differently treated:
Sövnerunerne, Grundtvig, No. 81.
There was a knight and a lady bright, Had a true tryst at the broom;
The ane ga'ed early in the morning, The other in the afternoon.
5
And aye she sat in her mother's bower door, And aye she made her mane,
"O whether should I gang to the Broomfield hill, Or should I stay at hame?
[Pg 132]
"For if I gang to the Broomfield hill, 10My maidenhead is gone;
And if I chance to stay at hame, My love will ca' me mansworn."—
Up then spake a witch woman, Aye from the room aboon; 15
"O, ye may gang to Broomfield hill, And yet come maiden hame.
"For when ye come to the Broomfield hill, Ye'll find your love asleep,
With a silver belt about his head, 20And a broom-cow at his feet.
"Take ye the blossom of the broom, The blossom it smells sweet,
And strew it at your true love's head, And likewise at his feet.
25
"Take ye the rings off your fingers, Put them on his right hand,
To let him know, when he doth awake, His love was at his command."—
She pu'd the broom flower on Hive-hill, 30And strew'd on's white hals bane,
And that was to be wittering true, That maiden she had gane.
[Pg 133]
"O where were ye, my milk-white steed, That I hae coft sae dear, 35
That wadna watch and waken me, When there was maiden here?"—
"I stamped wi' my foot, master, And gar'd my bridle ring;
But nae kin' thing wald waken ye, 40Till she was past and gane."—
"And wae betide ye, my gay goss hawk, That I did love sae dear,
That wadna watch and waken me, When there was maiden here."—
45
"I clapped wi' my wings, master, And aye my bells I rang,
And aye cry'd, Waken, waken, master, Before the ladye gang."—
"But haste and haste, my gude white steed, 50To come the maiden till,
Or a' the birds of gude green wood Of your flesh shall have their fill."—
"Ye needna burst your gude white steed, Wi' racing o'er the howm; 55
Nae bird flies faster through the wood, Than she fled through the broom."
From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, (p. 195.)
"I'll wager, I'll wager," says Lord John, "A hundred merks and ten,
That ye winna gae to the bonnie broom-fields, And a maid return again."—
5
"But I'll lay a wager wi' you, Lord John, A' your merks oure again,
That I'll gae alane to the bonnie broom-fields, And a maid return again."
Then Lord John mounted his grey steed, 10And his hound wi' his bells sae bricht,
And swiftly he rade to the bonny broom-fields, Wi' his hawks, like a lord or knicht.
"Now rest, now rest, my bonnie grey steed, My lady will soon be here; 15
And I'll lay my head aneath this rose sae red, And the bonnie burn sae near."
But sound, sound, was the sleep he took, For he slept till it was noon;
And his lady cam at day, left a taiken and away,[Pg 135] 20Gaed as licht as a glint o' the moon.
She strawed the roses on the ground, Threw her mantle on the brier,
And the belt around her middle sae jimp, As a taiken that she'd been there.
25
The rustling leaves flew round his head, And rous'd him frae his dream;
He saw by the roses, and mantle sae green, That his love had been there and was gane.
"O whare was ye, my gude grey steed, 30That I coft ye sae dear;
That ye didna waken your master, Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—
"I pautit wi' my foot, master, Garr'd a' my bridles ring; 35
And still I cried, Waken, gude master, For now is the hour and time."—
"Then whare was ye, my bonnie grey hound, That I coft ye sae dear,
That ye didna waken your master, 40Whan ye kend that his love was here."—
"I pautit wi' my foot, master, Garr'd a' my bells to ring; [Pg 136]
And still I cried, Waken, gude master, For now is the hour and time."—
45
"But whare was ye, my hawks, my hawks, That I coft ye sae dear,
That ye didna waken your master, Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—
"O wyte na me, now, my master dear, 50I garr'd a' my young hawks sing,
And still I cried, Waken, gude master, For now is the hour and time."—
"Then be it sae, my wager gane! 'T will skaith frae meikle ill; 55
For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields, O' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill."
The stanzas below are from an American version of this ballad called
The Green Broomfield, printed in a cheap song-book. (Graham's
Illustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858.)
"Then when she went to the green broom field, Where her love was fast asleep,
With a gray goose-hawk and a green laurel bough, And a green broom under his feet.
"And when he awoke from out his sleep, An angry man was he;
He looked to the East, and he looked to the West, And he wept for his sweetheart to see.
"Oh! where was you, my gray goose-hawk, The hawk that I loved so dear,
That you did not awake me from out my sleep, When my sweetheart was so near!"
This ballad was first printed in the Border Minstrelsy, (vol. iii.
p. 230,) "chiefly from Mrs. Brown's MS. with corrections from a
recited fragment." Motherwell furnishes a different version, from
recitation, (Minstrelsy, p. 374,) which is subjoined to the
present, and the well-known ditty of the Laidley Worm of
Spindleston-Heugh, upon the same theme, will be found in the Appendix
to this volume.
"Such transformations as the song narrates," remarks Sir Walter Scott,
"are common in the annals of chivalry. In the 25th and 26th cantos of
the second book of the Orlando Inamorato, the Paladin, Brandimarte,
after surmounting many obstacles, penetrates into the recesses of an
enchanted palace. Here he finds a fair damsel, seated upon a tomb, who
announces to him, that, in order to achieve her deliverance, he must
raise the lid of the sepulchre, and kiss whatever being should issue
forth. The knight, having pledged his faith, proceeds to open the
tomb, out of which a monstrous snake issues forth, with a tremendous
hiss. Brandimarte, with much reluctance, fulfils the bizarre
conditions of the adventure; and the monster is instantly changed into
a beautiful Fairy, who loads her deliverer with benefits."
[Pg 138]Jomfruen i Ormeham, in Grundtvig's Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser, ii.
177, is essentially the same ballad as Kempion. The characteristic
incident of the story (a maiden who has been transformed by her
step-mother into a snake or other monster, being restored to her
proper shape by the kiss of a knight) is as common in the popular
fiction of the North as Scott asserts it to be in chivalrous romance.
For instances, see Grundtvig, l.l., and under the closely related
Lindormen, ii. 211.
The name Kempion is itself a monument of the relation of our ballads
to the Kæmpeviser. Pollard of Pollard Hall, who slew "a venomous
serpent which did much harm to man and beast," is called in the modern
legend a Champion Knight.
"Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feed, And lay your head low on my knee;
The heaviest weird I will you read, That ever was read to gay ladye.
5
"O meikle dolour sall ye dree, And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim;
And far mair dolour sall ye dree On
Estmere crags, when ye them climb.
[Pg 139]
"I weird ye to a fiery beast, 10And relieved sall ye never be,
Till Kempion, the kingis son, Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee."—
O meikle dolour did she dree, And aye the salt seas o'er she swam; 15
And far mair dolour did she dree On Estmere crag, when she them clamb.
And aye she cried for Kempion, Gin he would but come to her hand:
Now word has gane to Kempion, 20That sicken a beast was in his land.
"Now, by my sooth," said Kempion, "This fiery beast I'll gang and see."—
"And by my sooth," said Segramour, "My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee."
25
Then bigged hae they a bonny boat, And they hae set her to the sea;
But a mile before they reach'd the shore, Around them she gar'd the red fire flee.
[Pg 140]
"O Segramour, keep the boat afloat, 30And let her na the land o'er near;
For this wicked beast will sure gae mad, And set fire to a' the land and mair."—
Syne has he bent an arblast bow, And aim'd an arrow at her head; 35
And swore if she didna quit the land, Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead.
"O out of my stythe I winna rise, (And it is not for the awe o' thee,)
Till Kempion, the kingis son, 40Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—
He has louted him o'er the dizzy crag, And gien the monster kisses ane;
Awa she gaed, and again she cam. The fieryest beast that ever was seen.
45
"O out o' my stythe I winna rise, (And not for a' thy bow nor thee,)
Till Kempion, the kingis son, Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—
He's louted him o'er the Estmere crags, 50And he has gi'en her kisses twa:
Awa she gaed, and again she cam, The fieryest beast that ever you saw.
[Pg 141]
"O out of my den I winna rise, Nor flee it for the fear o' thee, 55
Till Kempion, that courteous knight, Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—
He's louted him o'er the lofty crag, And he has gi'en her kisses three:
Awa she gaed, and again she cam, 60The loveliest ladye e'er could be!
"And by my sooth," says Kempion, "My ain true love, (for this is she,)
They surely had a heart o' stane, Could put thee to such misery.
65
"O was it warwolf in the wood? Or was it mermaid in the sea?
Or was it man or vile woman, My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?"—
"It wasna warwolf in the wood, 70Nor was it mermaid in the sea:
But it was my wicked step-mother, And wae and weary may she be!"—
"O, a heavier weird shall light her on, Than ever fell on vile woman; 75
Her hair shall grow rough, and her teeth grow lang, And on her four feet shall she gang.
"None shall take pity her upon;[Pg 142]
In Wormeswood she aye shall won;
And relieved shall she never be, 80
Till St. Mungo come over the sea."—
And sighing said that weary wight, "I doubt that day I'll never see!"
8. If by Estmere Crags we are to understand the rocky cliffs of
Northumberland, in opposition to Westmoreland, we may bring our scene
of action near Bamborough, and thereby almost identify the tale of
Kempion with that of the Laidley Worm of Spindleston, to which it
bears so strong a resemblance.—SCOTT. But why should we seek to
do this?
Kemp Owyne, says Motherwell, "was, no doubt, the same Ewein or Owain,
ap Urien the king of Reged, who is celebrated by the bards, Taliessin
and Llywarch-Hen, as well as in the Welsh historical Triads. In a poem
of Gruffyd Llwyd, A.D. 1400, addressed to Owain Glyndwr, is the
following allusion to this warrior. 'Thou hast travelled by land and
by sea in the conduct of thine affairs, like Owain ap Urien in days of
yore, when with activity he encountered the black knight of the
water.'[3]
His mistress had a ring esteemed one of the thirteen
rarities of Britain, which, (like the wondrous ring of Gyges) would
render the wearer invisible." Minstrelsy, p. lxxxiii.
[3] "On sea, on land, thou still didst brave The dangerous cliff and rapid wave; Like Urien, who subdued the knight, And the fell dragon put to flight, Yon moss-grown fount beside; The grim, black warrior of the flood, The dragon, gorged with human blood, The waters' scaly pride." Jones's Welsh Bards, i. 41.
The copy of Kemp Owyne printed in Buchan's Ancient Ballads, (ii.
78,) is the same as the following.
Her mother died when she was young, Which gave her cause to make great moan;
Her father married the warst woman[Pg 144] That ever lived in Christendom.
5
She served her with foot and hand, In every thing that she could dee;
Till once, in an unlucky time, She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.
Says, "Lie you there, dove Isabel, 10And all my sorrows lie with thee;
Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea, And borrow you with kisses three,
Let all the warld do what they will, Oh borrowed shall you never be."
15
Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang, And twisted thrice about the tree,
And all the people, far and near, Thought that a savage beast was she;
This news did come to Kemp Owyne, 20Where he lived far beyond the sea.
He hasted him to Craigy's sea, And on the savage beast look'd he;
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted was about the tree, 25
And with a swing she came about: "Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.
"Here is a royal belt," she cried, "That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on,[Pg 145] 30Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin, I vow my belt your death shall be."
He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal belt he brought him wi'; 35
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted twice about the tree,
And with a swing she came about: "Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.
"Here is a royal ring," she said, 40"That I have found in the green sea;
And while your finger it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my ring your death shall be."
45
He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal ring he brought him wi';
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted ance around the tree,
And with a swing she came about: 50"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.
"Here is a royal brand," she said, "That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; 55
But if you touch me, tail or fin,[Pg 146] I swear my brand your death shall be."
He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal brand he brought him wi';
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short, 60And twisted nane about the tree;0
And smilingly she came about, As fair a woman as fair could be.
A modernized copy of King Henry was published in the Tales of
Wonder, (No 57,) under the title of Courteous King Jamie. It first
appeared in an ancient dress in the Border Minstrelsy, (iii. 274,}
but a version preferable in some respects was given by Jamieson in his
Popular Ballads, (ii. 194,) which is here printed, without the
editor's interpolations. For a notice of similar legends, see the
Marriage of Sir Gawaine, at page 28 of this volume.
Lat never a man a wooing wend, That lacketh thingis three;
A routh o' gould, an open heart, Ay fu' o' charity.
5
As this I speak of King Henry, For he lay burd-alane;
And he's doen him to a jelly hunt's ha', Was far frae ony town.
He chas'd the deer now him before, 10And the roe down by the den,
Till the fattest buck in a' the flock King Henry he has slain.
[Pg 148]
O he has doen him to his ha', To mak him bierly cheer; 15
And in it cam a grisly ghost, Staed stappin' i' the fleer.
Her head hat the roof-tree o' the house, Her middle ye mat weel span;—
He's thrown to her his gay mantle; 20Says,—"Ladie, hap your lingcan."
Her teeth was a' like leather stakes, Her nose like club or mell;
And I ken nae thing she 'pear'd to be, But the fiend that wons in hell.
25
"Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry; Some meat ye gie to me."
"And what meat's in this house, Ladie? And what ha'e I to gi'e?"
"Its ye do kill your berry-brown steed, 30And ye bring him here to me."
O whan he slew his berry-brown steed, Wow but his heart was sair!
She ate him a' up, flesh and bane, Left naething but hide and hair.
35
"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, Mair meat ye bring to me."
"And what meat's in this house, Ladie? And what hae I to gi'e?"[Pg 149]
"O ye do kill your good grey hounds, 40And ye bring them in to me."
O whan he killed his good grey hounds, Wow but his heart was sair!
She ate them a' up, flesh and bane, Left naething but hide and hair.
45
"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, Mair meat ye bring to me."
"And what meat's in this house, Ladie? And what hae I to gi'e?"
"O ye do kill your gay goss hawks, 50And ye bring them here to me."
O whan he kill'd his gay goss hawks, Wow but his heart was sair!
She ate them a' up, skin and bane, Left naething but feathers bare.
55
"Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry; Some drink ye bring to me."
"O what drink's in this house, Ladie, That ye're nae welcome tee?"
"O ye sew up your horse's hide, 60And bring in a drink to me."
And he's sew'd up the bloody hide, A puncheon o' wine put in;
She drank it a' up at a waught,[Pg 150] Left na ae drap ahin'.
65
"A bed, a bed, now, King Henry, A bed ye mak to me;
For ye maun pu' the heather green, And mak a bed to me."
And pu'd has he the heather green, 70And made to her a bed;
And up he's ta'en his gay mantle, And o'er it has he spread.
"Tak aff your claiths, now, King Henry, And lye down by my side;" 75
"O God forbid," says King Henry, "That ever the like betide;
That ever the fiend that wons in hell, Should streek down by my side."
Whan nicht was gane, and day was come, 80And the sun shone thro' the ha',
The fairest lady that ever was seen Lay atween him and the wa'.
"O weel is me!" says King Henry; "How lang'll this last wi' me?" 85
Then out it spake that fair lady,— "E'en till the day you die.
"For I've met wi' mony a gentle knicht,[Pg 151] That gae me sic a fill;
But never before wi' a curteis knicht, 90That gae me a' my will."
This ballad, which is still very popular, is known under various other
names, as Bothwell, Child Brenton, Lord Dingwall, We were Sisters, We
were Seven, &c. Scott's version was derived principally from
recitation, but some of the concluding stanzas were taken from Herd's.
Herd's copy, which must be regarded as a fragment, is given in
connection with the present, and Buchan's in the Appendix to this
volume. Another edition, of a suspicious character, may be seen in
Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, (p. 205.) All the
principal incidents of the story are found in Ingefred og Gudrune,
Danske Viser, No. 194, translated by Jamieson, Illustrations p.
340. More or less imperfect versions of the same are Riddar Olle,
Svenska Folk-Visor, ii. p. 217, 59, 56, 215, and Herr Äster och
Fröken Sissa, p. 50. The substitution of the maid-servant for the
bride, occurs also in Torkild Trundesön, Danske V., No. 200, or
Thorkil Troneson, Arwidsson, No. 36. This idea was perhaps derived
from Tristan and Isold: see Scott's Sir Tristrem, II. 54, 55.
Cospatrick has sent o'er the faem;
Cospatrick brought his ladye hame;
And fourscore ships have come her wi',
The ladye by the grene-wood tree.
5
There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread,
And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae reid,
And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour,
And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour.
Sweet Willy was a widow's son,[Pg 153] 10
And at her stirrup he did run;
And she was clad in the finest pall,
But aye she let the tears down fall.
"O is your saddle set awrye?
Or rides your steed for you ower high? 15
Or are you mourning, in your tide,
That you suld be Cospatrick's bride?"
"I am not mourning, at this tide,
That I suld be Cospatrick's bride;
But I am sorrowing in my mood, 29
That I suld leave my mother good.
"But, gentle boy, come tell to me,
What is the custom of thy countrie?"—
"The custom thereof, my dame," he says,
"Will ill a gentle laydye please.
25
"Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded,
And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded;
But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,
And sent them mourning hame again.
"Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid, 30
Ye may gae safely to his bed;
But gif o' that ye be na sure,[Pg 154]
Then hire some damsell o' your bour."—
The ladye's call'd her bour maiden,
That waiting was into her train; 35
"Five thousand merks I'll gie to thee,
To sleep this night with my lord for me."—
When bells were rang, and mass was sayne,
And a' men unto bed were gane,
Cospatrick and the bonny maid, 40
Into a chamber they were laid.
"Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,
And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web;
And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie,
Is this a true maiden that lies by me?"—
45
"It is not a maid that you hae wedded,
But it is a maid that you hae bedded;
It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,
But not the maiden that it should be."—
O wrathfully he left the bed, 50
And wrathfully his claes on did;
And he has ta'en him through the ha',
And on his mother he did ca'.
[Pg 155]
"I am the most unhappy man,
That ever was in Christen land! 55
I courted a maiden, meik and mild,
And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' child."—
"O stay, my son, into this ha',
And sport ye wi' your merry men a';
And I will to the secret bour, 60
To see how it fares wi' your paramour."—
The carline she was stark and sture,
She aff the hinges dang the dure;
"O is your bairn to laird or loun,
Or is it to your father's groom?"—
65
"O hear me, mother, on my knee,
Till my sad story I tell to thee:
O we were sisters, sisters seven,
We were the fairest under heaven.
"It fell on a summer's afternoon, 70
When a' our toilsome task was done,
We cast the kevils us amang,
To see which suld to the grene-wood gang.
"Ohon! alas, for I was youngest,
And aye my wierd it was the hardest! 75
The kevil it on me did fa',
Whilk was the cause of a' my woe.
"For to the grene-wood I maun gae,[Pg 156]
To pu' the red rose and the slae;
To pu' the red rose and the thyme, 80
To deck my mother's bour and mine.
"I hadna pu'd a flower but ane,
When by there came a gallant hende,
Wi' high-coll'd hose and laigh-coll'd shoon,
And he seem'd to be sum kingis son.
85
"And be I a maid, or be I nae,
He kept me there till the close o' day;
And be I a maid, or be I nane,
He kept me there till the day was done.
"He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair, 90
And bade me keep it ever mair;
He gae me a carknet o' bonny beads,
And bade me keep it against my needs.
"He gae to me a gay gold ring,
And bade me keep it abune a' thing."— 95
"What did ye wi' the tokens rare,
That ye gat frae that gallant there?"—
"O bring that coffer unto me,
And a' the tokens ye sall see."—
"Now stay, daughter, your bour within, 100
While I gae parley wi' my son."—
O she has ta'en her thro' the ha',[Pg 157]
And on her son began to ca';
"What did ye wi' the bonny beads
I bade you keep against your needs?
105
"What did you wi' the gay gold ring
I bade you keep abune a' thing?"—
"I gae them to a ladye gay,
I met on grene-wood on a day.
"But I wad gie a' my halls and tours, 110
I had that ladye within my bours;
But I wad gie my very life,
I had that ladye to my wife."—
"Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours,
Ye have the bright burd in your bours; 115
And keep, my son, your very life,
Ye have that ladye to your wife."—
Now, or a month was come and gane,
The ladye bare a bonny son;
And 'twas weel written on his breast-bane, 120
"Cospatrick is my father's name." 120
"O row my lady in satin and silk,
And wash my son in the morning milk."
120, Cospatrick, Comes Patricius, was the designation of
the Earl of Dunbar, in the days of Wallace and Bruce.—SCOTT.
Printed from Mrs. Brown's MS., in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. iii.
p. 170. Another copy is given in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, (ii.
367,) and versions, enlarged and altered from the ancient, in the same
work, (ii. 179,) and in Tales of Wonder, No. 56. This ballad bears
a striking resemblance to Sir Stig and Lady Torelild, translated
from the Danish by Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities,
p. 344. This is the eighth (marked H) of nine Danish ballads given by
Grundtvig, under the title Hustru og Mands Moder, vol. ii. 404.
Three Swedish versions have been printed: two in Arwidsson's
Fornsånger, Liten Kerstins Förtrollning, ii. 252, and another
(Grundtvig) in Cavallius and Stephens's Svenska Folksagor.
"Those who wish to know how an incantation, or charm, of the
distressing nature here described, was performed in classic days, may
consult the story of Galanthis's Metamorphosis, in Ovid, or the
following passage in Apuleius: 'Eadem (saga, scilicet, quædam)
amatoris uxorem, quod in eam dicacule probrum dixerat, jam in sarcinam
prægnationis, obsepto utero, et repigrato fœtu, perpetua prægnatione
damnavit. Et ut cuncti numerant, octo annorum onere, misella illa,
velut elephantum paritura, distenditur.' APUL. Metam. lib. i.
"There is a curious tale about a Count of Westeravia, whom a deserted
concubine bewitched upon his marriage, so as to preclude all hopes of
his becoming a father. The spell continued to operate for three years,
till one day, the Count happening to meet with [Pg 163]his former mistress,
she maliciously asked him about the increase of his family. The Count,
conceiving some suspicion from her manner, craftily answered, that God
had blessed him with three fine children; on which she exclaimed, like
Willie's mother in the ballad, "May heaven confound the old hag, by
whose counsel I threw an enchanted pitcher into the draw-well of your
palace!" The spell being found, and destroyed, the Count became the
father of a numerous family. Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels, p.
474." SCOTT.
Willie's ta'en him o'er the faem,
He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame;
He's wooed her for her yellow hair,
But his mother wrought her meikle care;
5
And meikle dolour gar'd her dree,
For lighter she can never be;
But in her bower she sits wi' pain,
And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.
And to his mother he has gane, 10
That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!
He says—"My ladie has a cup,
Wi' gowd and silver set about;
This gudely gift sall be your ain,
And let her be lighter o' her young bairn."—
15
"Of her young bairn she's never be lighter,
Nor in her bour to shine the brighter:
But she sall die, and turn to clay,
And you sall wed another may."—
"Another may I'll never wed,[Pg 164] 20
Another may I'll never bring hame:"—
But, sighing, said that weary wight—
"I wish my life were at an end!
"Yet gae ye to your mother again,
That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind! 25
And say, your ladye has a steed,
The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed.
"For he is silver shod before,
And he is gowden shod behind;
At every tuft of that horse mane, 30
There's a golden chess, and a bell to ring.
This gudely gift sall be her ain,
And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—
"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
Nor in her bour to shine the brighter; 35
But she sall die, and turn to clay,
And ye sall wed another may."—
"Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll never bring hame:"—
But, sighing, said that weary wight— 40
"I wish my life were at an end!—
"Yet gae ye to your mother again,
That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind!
And say your ladye has a girdle,
It's a' red gowd to the middle;
45
"And aye, at ilka siller hem[Pg 165]
Hang fifty siller bells and ten;
This gudely gift sall be her ain,
And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—
"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter, 50
Nor in your bour to shine the brighter;
For she sall die, and turn to clay,
And thou sall wed another may."—
"Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll never bring hame;"— 55
But, sighing, said that weary wight—
"I wish my days were at an end!"—
Then out and spak the Billy Blind ,
(He spak aye in good time:)
"Yet gae ye to the market-place, 60
And there do buy a loaf of wace;
Do shape it bairn and bairnly like,
And in it twa glassen een you'll put;
"And bid her your boy's christening to,
Then notice weel what she shall do; 65
And do you stand a little away,
To notice weel what she may say."
He did him till his mither then,
And bade her to his boy's christnin;
And he did stand a little forbye,
And noticed well what she did say.
75
"O wha has loosed the nine witch knots,
That were amang that ladye's locks?
And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care,
That were amang that ladye's hair?
"And wha has ta'en down that bush o' woodbine, 80
That hung between her bour and mine?
And wha has kill'd the master kid ,
That ran beneath that ladye's bed?
And wha has loosed her left foot shee,
And let that ladye lighter be?"
85
Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots,
That were amang that ladye's locks;
And Willie's ta'en out the kaims o' care,
That were into that ladye's hair;
And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine,[Pg 167] 90
Hung atween her bour and the witch carline;
And he has kill'd the master kid,
That ran beneath that ladye's bed;
And he has loosed her left foot shee,
And latten that ladye lighter be; 95
And now he has gotten a bonny son,
And meikle grace be him upon.
57. Billy Blind—A familiar genius, or propitious
spirit, somewhat similar to the Brownie.
The beginning is to be compared with Lindormen, the whole ballad
with Jomfruen i Ormeham, Grundtvig's Folkeviser, ii. 213, 177.
O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tower, The ugliest witch in the north countrie,
Has trysted me ae day up till her bower, And mony fair speech she made to me.
5
She straiked my head, and she kembed my hair, And she set me down saftly on her knee,
Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, Sae mony braw things as I would you gi'e."
She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlet, 10Wi' gouden flowers and fringes fine,
Says "Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, This goodly gift it sall be thine."
"Awa, awa, ye ugly witch, Haud far awa, and lat me be; 15
I never will be your lemman sae true, And I wish I were out of your company."
She neist brocht a sark o' the saftest silk,[Pg 169] Weel wrought wi' pearls about the band;
Says,—"Gin ye will be my ain true love, 20This goodly gift ye sall command."
She shaw'd me a cup o' the good red goud, Weel set wi' jewels sae fair to see;
Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, This goodly gift I will you gie."
25
"Awa, awa, ye ugly witch! Haud far awa, and lat me be;
For I wadna ance kiss your ugly mouth For a' the gifts that ye cou'd gie."
She's turned her richt and round about, 30And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn;
And she sware by the moon and the stars aboon, That she'd gar me rue the day I was born.
Then out has she ta'en a silver wand, And she's turned her three times round and round; 35
She's mutter'd sic words, that my strength it fail'd, And I fell down senseless on the ground.
She's turn'd me into an ugly worm, And gar'd me toddle about the tree;
And ay, on ilka Saturday's night,[Pg 170] 40My sister Maisry came to me,
Wi' silver bason, and silver kemb, To kemb my headie upon her knee;
But or I had kiss'd her ugly mouth, I'd rather hae toddled about the tree.
45
But as it fell out on last Hallowe'en, When the
Seely Court was ridin' by,
The queen lighted down on a gowan bank, Nae far frae the tree whare I wont to lye.
She took me up in her milk-white hand, 50And she straiked me three times o'er her knee;
She changed me again to my ain proper shape, And I nae mair maun toddle about the tree.
46. Seely Court, i.e. "pleasant or happy court," or
"court of the pleasant and happy people." This agrees with the ancient
and more legitimate idea of Fairies. JAMIESON. See p. 120, v. 131,
et seq.
From Buchan's Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, (i. 49.)
It is much to be regretted that this piece has not come down to us in
a purer and more ancient form. Similar ballads are found in Danish,
Swedish, and Faroish. Several forms of the Danish are given by
Grundtvig (Ridderen i Fugleham, No. 68), who also cites many
popular tales which have the same basis, e.g. the Countess d'Aulnoy's
fairy story of The Blue Bird.
It was intill a pleasant time, Upon a simmer's day;
The noble Earl of Mar's daughter Went forth to sport and play.
5
As thus she did amuse hersell, Below a green aik tree,
There she saw a sprightly doo Set on a tower sae hie.
"O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true, 10If ye'll come down to me,
Ye'se hae a cage o' guid red gowd Instead o' simple tree:
"I'll put gowd hingers roun' your cage, And siller roun' your wa'; 15
I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird As ony o' them a'."
But she had nae these words well spoke,[Pg 172] Nor yet these words well said,
Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower, 20And lighted on her head.
Then she has brought this pretty bird Hame to her bowers and ha';
And made him shine as fair a bird As ony o' them a'.
25
When day was gane, and night was come, About the evening tide,
This lady spied a sprightly youth Stand straight up by her side.
"From whence came ye, young man?" she said, 30"That does surprise me sair;
My door was bolted right secure; What way ha'e ye come here?"
"O had your tongue, ye lady fair, Lat a' your folly be; 35
Mind ye not on your turtle doo Last day ye brought wi' thee?"
"O tell me mair, young man," she said, "This does surprise me now;
What country ha'e ye come frae? 40What pedigree are you?"
"My mither lives on foreign isles,[Pg 173] She has nae mair but me;
She is a queen o' wealth and state, And birth and high degree;
45
"Likewise well skill'd in magic spells, As ye may plainly see;
And she transform'd me to yon shape, To charm such maids as thee.
"I am a doo the live lang day, 50A sprightly youth at night;
This aye gars me appear mair fair In a fair maiden's sight.
"And it was but this verra day That I came ower the sea; 55
Your lovely face did me enchant,— I'll live and dee wi' thee."
"O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true, Nae mair frae me ye'se gae."
"That's never my intent, my luve, 60As ye said, it shall be sae."
"O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true, It's time to gae to bed."
"Wi' a' my heart, my dear marrow, It's be as ye ha'e said."
65
Then he has staid in bower wi' her[Pg 174] For sax lang years and ane,
Till sax young sons to him she bare, And the seventh she's brought hame.
But aye as ever a child was born, 70He carried them away,
And brought them to his mither's care, As fast as he cou'd fly.
Thus he has staid in bower wi' her For twenty years and three; 75
There came a lord o' high renown To court this fair ladie.
But still his proffer she refused, And a' his presents too;
Says, "I'm content to live alane 80Wi' my bird, Cow-me-doo."
Her father sware a solemn oath Amang the nobles all,
"The morn, or ere I eat or drink, This bird I will gar kill."
85
The bird was sitting in his cage, And heard what they did say;
And when he found they were dismist, Says, "Waes me for this day!
[Pg 175]
"Before that I do langer stay, 90And thus to be forlorn,
I'll gang unto my mither's bower, Where I was bred and born."
Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew Beyond the raging sea; 95
And lighted near his mither's castle On a tower o' gowd sae hie.
As his mither was wauking out, To see what she coud see,
And there she saw her little son 100Set on the tower sae hie.
"Get dancer here to dance," she said, "And minstrells for to play;
For here's my young son, Florentine, Come here wi' me to stay."
105
"Get nae dancers to dance, mither, Nor minstrells for to play;
For the mither o' my seven sons, The morn's her wedding-day."
"O tell me, tell me, Florentine, 110Tell me, and tell me true,
Tell me this day without a flaw, What I will do for you."
[Pg 176]
"Instead of dancers to dance, mither, Or minstrells for to play, 115
Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men, Like storks, in feathers gray;
"My seven sons in seven swans, Aboon their heads to flee;
And I, mysell, a gay gos-hawk, 120A bird o' high degree."
Then sichin' said the queen hersell, "That thing's too high for me;"
But she applied to an auld woman, Who had mair skill than she.
125
Instead o' dancers to dance a dance, Or minstrells for to play,
Four-and-twenty wall-wight men Turn'd birds o' feathers gray;
Her seven sons in seven swans, 130Aboon their heads to flee;
And he, himsell, a gay gos-hawk, A bird o' high degree.
This flock o' birds took flight and flew Beyond the raging sea; 135
And landed near the Earl Mar's castle, Took shelter in every tree.
They were a flock o' pretty birds,[Pg 177] Right comely to be seen;
The people view'd them wi' surprise, 140As they danc'd on the green.
These birds ascended frae the tree, And lighted on the ha';
And at the last wi' force did flee Among the nobles a'.
145
The storks there seized some o' the men, They cou'd neither fight nor flee;
The swans they bound the bride's best man, Below a green aik tree.
They lighted next on maidens fair, 150Then on the bride's own head;
And wi' the twinkling o' an e'e, The bride and them were fled.
There's ancient men at weddings been, For sixty years or more; 155
But sic a curious wedding-day They never saw before.
For naething cou'd the companie do, Nor naething cou'd they say;
But they saw a flock o' pretty birds 160That took their bride away.
When that Earl Mar he came to know[Pg 178] Where his dochter did stay,
He sign'd a bond o' unity, And visits now they pay.
Mr. Kinloch printed a fragment of this ballad under the title of
Hynde Etin. (See Appendix.) The story was afterwards given
complete by Buchan, (Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 6,)
as here follows. Buchan had previously communicated to Motherwell a
modernized version of the same tale, in which the Etin is changed to
a Groom. (See post.)
This ancient ballad has suffered severely in the course of its
transmission to our times. Still there can be no doubt that it was
originally the same as The Maid and the Dwarf King, which is
still sung in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and the Faroe Islands. Numerous
copies of the Scandinavian ballad have been given to the world: seven
Danish versions, more or less complete, four Norse, nine Swedish, one
Faroish, and some other fragments (Grundtvig, ii. 37, and note, p.
655). One of the Swedish ballads (Bergkonungen, Afzelius, No.
35) is translated in Keightley's Fairy Mythology, 103, under the
title of Proud Margaret. Closely related is Agnete og Havmanden,
Grundtvig, ii. 48, 656, which is found in several forms in German (e.g.
Die schöne Hannele in Hoffmann von Fallersleben's Schlesische
Volkslieder, No. 1), and two in Slavic.
Lady Margaret sits in her bower door, Sewing at her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond's-wood, And wish'd she there had been.
5
She loot the seam fa' frae her side, And the needle to her tae;
And she is on to Elmond-wood As fast as she coud gae.
[Pg 180]
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 10Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by it came a young hind chiel, Says, "Lady, lat alane.
"O why pu' ye the nut, the nut, Or why brake ye the tree? 15
For I am forester o' this wood: Ye shou'd spier leave at me."
"I'll ask leave at no living man, Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king o'er a' this realm, 20This wood belongs to me."
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, Nor broken a branch but three,
Till by it came him Young Akin, And gar'd her lat them be.
25
The highest tree in Elmond's-wood, He's pu'd it by the reet;
And he has built for her a bower Near by a hallow seat.
He's built a bower, made it secure 30Wi' carbuncle and stane;
Tho' travellers were never sae nigh, Appearance it had nane.
He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood,[Pg 181] For six lang years and one; 35
Till six pretty sons to him she bear, And the seventh she's brought home.
It fell ance upon a day, This guid lord went from home;
And he is to the hunting gane, 40Took wi' him his eldest son.
And when they were on a guid way, Wi' slowly pace did walk,
The boy's heart being something wae, He thus began to talk:—
45
"A question I wou'd ask, father, Gin ye wou'dna angry be?"
"Say on, say on, my bonny boy, Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me."
"I see my mither's cheeks aye weet, 50I never can see them dry;
And I wonder what aileth my mither, To mourn continually."
"Your mither was a king's daughter, Sprung frae a high degree; 55
And she might hae wed some worthy prince, Had she nae been stown by me.
"I was her father's cup-bearer,[Pg 182] Just at that fatal time;
I catch'd her on a misty night, 60Whan summer was in prime.
"My luve to her was most sincere, Her luve was great for me;
But when she hardships doth endure, Her folly she does see."
65
"I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush, The linnet o' the tree,
And bring them to my dear mither, See if she'll merrier be."
It fell upo' another day, 70This guid lord he thought lang,
And he is to the hunting gane, Took wi' him his dog and gun.
Wi' bow and arrow by his side, He's aff, single, alane; 75
And left his seven children to stay Wi' their mither at hame.
"O, I will tell to you, mither, Gin ye wadna angry be:"
"Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy, 80Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me."
[Pg 183]
"As we came frae the hynd hunting, We heard fine music ring:"
"My blessings on you, my bonny boy, I wish I'd been there my lane."
85
He's ta'en his mither by the hand, His six brithers also,
And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood, As fast as they coud go.
They wistna weel where they were gaen, 90Wi' the stratlins o' their feet;
They wistna weel where they were gaen, Till at her father's yate.
"I hae nae money in my pocket, But royal rings hae three; 95
I'll gie them you, my little young son, And ye'll walk there for me.
"Ye'll gi'e the first to the proud porter, And he will lat you in;
Ye'll gi'e the next to the butler boy, 100And he will show you ben;
"Ye'll gi'e the third to the minstrel[Pg 184] That plays before the king;
He'll play success to the bonny boy Came thro' the wood him lane."
105
He ga'e the first to the proud porter, And he open'd an' let him in;
He ga'e the next to the butler boy, And he has shown him ben;
He ga'e the third to the minstrel 110That play'd before the king;
And he play'd success to the bonny boy Came thro' the wood him lane.
Now when he came before the king, Fell low down on his knee: 115
The king he turned round about, And the saut tear blinded his ee.
"Win up, win up, my bonny boy, Gang frae my companie;
Ye look sae like my dear daughter, 120My heart will birst in three."
"If I look like your dear daughter, A wonder it is none;
If I look like your dear daughter, I am her eldest son."
125
"Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,[Pg 185] Where may my Margaret be?"
"She's just now standing at your yates, And my six brithers her wi'."
"O where are all my porter boys 130That I pay meat and fee,
To open my yates baith wide and braid? Let her come in to me."
When she came in before the king, Fell low down on her knee: 135
"Win up, win up, my daughter dear, This day ye'll dine wi me."
"Ae bit I canno' eat, father, Nor ae drop can I drink,
Till I see my mither and sister dear, 140For lang for them I think."
When she came before the queen, Fell low down on her knee:
"Win up, win up, my daughter dear, This day ye'se dine wi' me."
145
"Ae bit I canno' eat, mither, Nor ae drop can I drink,
Until I see my dear sister, For lang for her I think."
[Pg 186]
"When that these two sisters met, 150She hail'd her courteouslie:
"Come ben, come ben, my sister dear, This day ye'se dine wi' me."
"Ae bit I canno' eat, sister, Nor ae drop can I drink, 155
Until I see my dear husband, For lang for him I think."
"O where are all my rangers bold That I pay meat and fee,
To search the forest far an' wide, 160And bring Akin to me?"
Out it speaks the wee little boy,— "Na, na, this maunna be;
Without ye grant a free pardon, I hope ye'll nae him see."
165
"O here I grant a free pardon, Well seal'd by my own han';
Ye may make search for young Akin, As soon as ever you can."
They search'd the country wide and braid, 170The forests far and near,
And found him into Elmond's-wood, Tearing his yellow hair.
[Pg 187]
"Win up, win up, now young Akin. Win up, and boun wi' me; 175
We're messengers come from the court; The king wants you to see."
"O lat him take frae me my head, Or hang me on a tree;
For since I've lost my dear lady, 180Life's no pleasure to me."
"Your head will nae be touch'd, Akin, Nor hang'd upon a tree:
Your lady's in her father's court, And all he wants is thee."
185
When he came in before the king, Fell low down on his knee:
"Win up, win up now, young Akin, This day ye'se dine wi' me."
But as they were at dinner set, 190The boy asked a boun;
"I wish we were in the good church, For to get christendoun.
"We ha'e lived in guid green wood This seven years and ane; 195
But a' this time since e'er I mind, Was never a church within."
"Your asking 's nae sae great, my boy,[Pg 188] But granted it shall be;
This day to guid church ye shall gang, 200And your mither shall gang you wi'."
When unto the guid church she came, She at the door did stan';
She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame, She coudna come farer ben.
205
Then out it speaks the parish priest, And a sweet smile gae he;—-
"Come ben, come ben, my lily flower, Present your babes to me."
Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick, 210And likewise James and John;
They call'd the eldest Young Akin, Which was his father's name.
Then they staid in the royal court, And liv'd wi' mirth and glee; 215
And when her father was deceas'd, Heir of the crown was she.
97. The regular propitiation for the "proud porter" of
ballad poetry. See, e.g. King Arthur and the King of Cornwall,
in the Appendix, v. 49: also the note to King Estmere, vol.
iii. p. 172.
"O well love I to ride in a mist, And shoot in a northern wind;
And far better a lady to steal, That's come of a noble kind."
5
Four-and-twenty fair ladies Put on that lady's sheen;
And as many young gentlemen Did lead her o'er the green.
Yet she preferred before them all 10Him, young Hastings the Groom;
He's coosten a mist before them all, And away this lady has ta'en.
He's taken the lady on him behind, Spared neither the grass nor corn, 15
Till they came to the wood of Amonshaw, Where again their loves were sworn.
And they have lived in that wood[Pg 190] Full many a year and day,
And were supported from time to time, 20By what he made of prey.
And seven bairns, fair and fine, There she has born to him,
And never was in good church door, Nor never gat good kirking.
25
Once she took harp into her hand, And harped them asleep;
Then she sat down at their couch side, And bitterly did weep.
Said, "Seven bairns have I born now 30To my lord in the ha';
I wish they were seven greedy rats, To run upon the wa',
And I mysel' a great grey cat, To eat them ane an' a'.
35
"For ten long years now I have lived Within this cave of stane,
And never was at good church door, Nor got no good churching."
O then outspak her eldest child, 40And a fine boy was he,—
"O hold your tongue, my mother dear;[Pg 191] I'll tell you what to dee.
"Take you the youngest in your lap, The next youngest by the hand; 45
Put all the rest of us you before, As you learnt us to gang.
"And go with us into some good kirk,— You say they are built of stane,—
And let us all be christened, 50And you get good kirking."
She took the youngest in her lap, The next youngest by the hand;
Set all the rest of them her before, As she learnt them to gang.
55
And she has left the wood with them, And to a kirk has gane;
Where the good priest them christened, And gave her good kirking.
This ballad exemplifies a superstition deeply rooted
in the belief of all the northern nations,—the desire of
the Elves and Water-spirits for the love of Christians,
and the danger of being exposed to their fascination.
The object of their fatal passion is generally a bridegroom,
or a bride, on the eve of marriage. See, in the
Appendix, Sir Oluf and the Elf-King's Daughter, for
further illustrations; also the two succeeding pieces.
Clerk Colvill was first printed in Herd's Scottish Songs,
(i. 217,) and was inserted, in an altered shape, in Lewis's Tales of
Wonder, (No. 56.)
Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame Were walking in the garden green;
The belt around her stately waist Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
5
"O promise me now, Clerk Colvill, Or it will cost ye muckle strife,
Ride never by the wells of Slane, If ye wad live and brook your life."
[Pg 193]
"Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame, 10Now speak nae mair of that to me:
Did I ne'er see a fair woman, But I wad sin with her fair body?"
He's ta'en leave o' his gay lady, Nought minding what his lady said, 15
And he's rode by the wells of Slane, Where washing was a bonny maid.
"Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid, That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"
"And weel fa' you, fair gentleman, 20Your body's whiter than the milk."
Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill, "O my head it pains me sair;"
"Then take, then take," the maiden said, 25"And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."
Then she's gi'ed him a little bane-knife, And frae her
sark he cut a share;
She's ty'd it round his whey-white face, But ay his head it aked mair.
30
Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colvill, "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"
"And sairer, sairer ever will," The maiden crys, "till you be dead."
Out then he drew his shining blade,[Pg 194] 35Thinking to stick her where she stood;
But she was vanish'd to a fish, And swam far off, a fair mermaid.
"O mother, mother, braid my hair; My lusty lady, make my bed; 40
O brother, take my sword and spear, For I have seen the false mermaid."
From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 22, where it
is entitled The Gowans sae gay, from the burden.
The hero of the first of the two following ballads would seem to be an
Elf, that of the second a Nix, or Merman, though the punishment
awarded to each of them in the catastrophe, as the ballads now exist,
is not consistent with their supernatural character. It is possible
that in both instances two independent stories have been blended: but
it is curious that the same intermixture should occur in Norse and
German also. See Grundtvig's preface to Noekkens Svig, ii. p. 57.
The conclusion in all these cases is derived from a ballad resembling
May Colvin, vol. ii. p. 272.
We have had the Elf-Knight introduced under the same circumstances at
page 128; indeed, the first three or four stanzas are common to both
pieces.
Fair lady Isabel sits in her bower sewing, Aye as the gowans grow gay;
There she heard an elf-knight blawing his horn, The first morning in May.
5
"If I had yon horn that I hear blawing,"[Pg 196] Aye as the gowans grow gay;
"And yon elf-knight to sleep in my bosom," The first morning in May.
This maiden had scarcely these words spoken, 10Aye as the gowans grow gay;
Till in at her window the elf-knight has luppen, The first morning in May.
"Its a very strange matter, fair maiden," said he, Aye as the gowans grow gay, 15
"I canna' blaw my horn, but ye call on me," The first morning in May.
"But will ye go to yon greenwood side," Aye as the gowans grow gay?
"If ye canna' gang, I will cause you to ride," 20The first morning in May.
He leapt on a horse, and she on another, Aye as the gowans grow gay;
And they rode on to the greenwood together, The first morning in May.
25
"Light down, light down, lady Isabel," said he, Aye as the gowans grow gay;
"We are come to the place where ye are to die," The first morning in May.
"Ha'e mercy, ha'e mercy, kind sir, on me,"[Pg 197] 30Aye as the gowans grow gay;
"Till ance my dear father and mother I see," The first morning in May.
"Seven king's-daughters here hae I slain," Aye as the gowans grow gay; 35
"And ye shall be the eight o' them," The first morning in May.
"O sit down a while, lay your head on my knee," Aye as the gowans grow gay;
"That we may hae some rest before that I die," 40The first morning in May.
She stroak'd him sae fast, the nearer he did creep, Aye as the gowans grow gay;
Wi' a sma' charm she lull'd him fast asleep, The first morning in May.
45
"Wi' his ain sword belt sae fast as she ban' him, Aye as the gowans grow gay;
With his ain dag-durk sae sair as she dang him, The first morning in May.
"If seven kings' daughters here ye ha'e slain," 50Aye as the gowans grow gay,
"Lye ye here, a husband to them a'," The first morning in May.
From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 201. Repeated
in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, Percy Society,
xvii. 63.
The three ballads which follow, diverse as they may now appear, after
undergoing successive corruptions, were primarily of the same type. In
the first (which may be a compound of two ballads, like the preceding,
the conclusion being taken from a story of the character of May
Colvin in the next volume) the Merman or Nix may be easily
recognized: in the second he is metamorphosed into the Devil; and in
the third, into a ghost. Full details upon the corresponding
Scandinavian, German, and Slavic legends, are given by Grundtvig, in
the preface to Noekkens Svig, Danmarks G. Folkeviser, ii. 57:
translated by Jamieson, i. 210, and by Monk Lewis, Tales of Wonder,
No. 11.
There came a bird out o' a bush, On water for to dine;
And sighing sair, says the king's daughter, "O waes this heart o' mine!"
5
He's taen a harp into his hand, He's harped them all asleep;
Except it was the king's daughter, Who ae wink cou'dna get.
[Pg 199]
He's luppen on his berry-brown steed, 10Taen her on behind himsell;
Then baith rade down to that water, That they ca' Wearie's well.
"Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, Nae harm shall thee befall; 15
Aft times hae I water'd my steed, Wi' the water o' Wearie's well."
The first step that she stepped in, She stepped to the knee;
And sighing sair, says this lady fair, 20"This water's nae for me."
"Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, Nae harm shall thee befall;
Aft times hae I water'd my steed, Wi' the water o' Wearie's well."
25
The next step that she stepped in, She stepped to the middle;
And sighing, says, this lady fair, "I've wat my gowden girdle."
"Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, 30Nae harm shall thee befall;
Aft times hae I water'd my steed, Wi' the water o' Wearie's well."
The niest step that she stepped in,[Pg 200] She stepped to the chin; 35
And sighing, says, this lady fair, "They shou'd gar twa loves twine."
"Seven king's-daughters I've drown'd there, In the water o' Wearie's well;
And I'll make you the eight o' them, 40And ring the common bell."
"Sin' I am standing here," she says, "This dowie death to die;
Ae kiss o' your comely mouth I'm sure wou'd comfort me."
45
He louted him ower his saddle bow, To kiss her cheek and chin;
She's taen him in her arms twa, And thrown him headlang in.
"Sin' seven king's daughters ye've drown'd there, 50In the water o' Wearie's well,
I'll make you bridegroom to them a', An' ring the bell mysell."
And aye she warsled, and aye she swam, Till she swam to dry land; 55
Then thanked God most cheerfully, The dangers she'd ower came.
This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott, (Minstrelsy, iii.
195,) by Mr. William Laidlaw, who took it down from recitation. A
fragment of the same legend, recovered by Motherwell, is given in the
Appendix to this volume, and another version, in which the hero is not
a dæmon, but the ghost of an injured lover, is placed directly after
the present.
The Devil (Auld Nick) here takes the place of the Merman (Nix) of
the ancient ballad. See p. 198, and the same natural substitution
noted in K.u.H.—Märchen, 3d ed. iii. 253.
"O where have you been, my long, long love, This long seven years and more?"—
"O I'm come to seek my former vows Ye granted me before."—
5
"O hold your tongue of your former vows, For they will breed sad strife;
O hold your tongue of your former vows, For I am become a wife."
He turn'd him right and round about, 10And the tear blinded his ee;
"I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, If it had not been for thee.
"I might hae had a king's daughter,[Pg 202] Far, far beyond the sea; 15
I might have had a king's daughter, Had it not been for love o' thee."—
"If ye might have had a king's daughter, Yer sell ye had to blame;
Ye might have taken the king's daughter, 20For ye kend that I was nane."—
"O faulse are the vows of womankind, But fair is their faulse bodie;
I never wad hae trodden on Irish ground, Had it not been for love o' thee."—
25
"If I was to leave my husband dear, And my two babes also,
O what have you to take me to, If with you I should go?"—
"I hae seven ships upon the sea, 30The eighth brought me to land;
With four-and-twenty bold mariners, And music on every hand."
She has taken up her two little babes, Kiss'd them baith cheek and chin; 35
"O fair ye weel, my ain two babes, For I'll never see you again."
She set her foot upon the ship,[Pg 203] No mariners could she behold;
But the sails were o' the taffetie, 40And the masts o' the beaten gold.
She had not sail'd a league, a league, A league but barely three,
When dismal grew his countenance, And drumlie grew his ee.
45
The masts that were like the beaten gold, Bent not on the heaving seas;
But the sails, that were o' the taffetie, Fill'd not in the east land breeze.—
They had not sailed a league, a league, 50A league but barely three,
Until she espied his cloven foot, And she wept right bitterlie.
"O hold your tongue of your weeping," says he, "Of your weeping now let me be; 55
I will show you how the lilies grow On the banks of Italy."—
"O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, That the sun shines sweetly on?"—
"O yon are the hills of heaven," he said, 60"Where you will never win."—
"O whaten a mountain is yon," she said,[Pg 204] "All so dreary wi' frost and snow?"—
"O yon is the mountain of hell," he cried, "Where you and I will go."
65
And aye when she turn'd her round about, Aye taller he seem'd for to be;
Until that the tops o' that gallant ship Nae taller were than he.
The clouds grew dark, and the wind grew loud, 70And the levin fill'd her ee;
And waesome wail'd the snaw-white sprites Upon the gurlie sea.
He strack the tap-mast wi' his hand, The fore-mast wi' his knee; 75
And he brake that gallant ship in twain, And sank her in the sea.
"O are ye my father, or are ye my mother? Or are ye my brother John?
Or are ye James Herries, my first true love, Come back to Scotland again?"
5
"I am not your father, I am not your mother, Nor am I your brother John;
But I'm James Herries, your first true love, Come back to Scotland again."
"Awa', awa', ye former lovers, 10Had far awa' frae me;
For now I am another man's wife, Ye'll ne'er see joy o' me."
"Had I kent that ere I came here, I ne'er had come to thee; 15
For I might hae married the king's daughter, Sae fain she wou'd had me.
"I despised the crown o' gold,[Pg 206] The yellow silk also;
And I am come to my true love, 20But with me she'll not go."
"My husband he is a carpenter, Makes his bread on dry land,
And I hae born him a young son,— Wi' you I will not gang."
25
"You must forsake your dear husband, Your little young son also,
Wi' me to sail the raging seas, Where the stormy winds do blow."
"O what hae you to keep me wi', 30If I should with you go?
If I'd forsake my dear husband, My little young son also?"
"See ye not yon seven pretty ships, The eighth brought me to land; 35
With merchandize and mariners, And wealth in every hand?"
She turn'd her round upon the shore, Her love's ships to behold;
Their topmasts and their mainyards 40Were cover'd o'er wi' gold.
Then she's gane to her little young son,[Pg 207] And kiss'd him cheek and chin;
Sae has she to her sleeping husband, And dune the same to him.
45
"O sleep ye, wake ye, my husband, I wish ye wake in time;
I woudna for ten thousand pounds, This night ye knew my mind."
She's drawn the slippers on her feet, 50Were cover'd o'er wi' gold;
Well lined within wi' velvet fine, To had her frae the cold.
She hadna sailed upon the sea A league but barely three, 55
Till she minded on her dear husband, Her little young son tee.
"O gin I were at land again, At land where I wou'd be,
The woman ne'er shou'd bear the son, 60Shou'd gar me sail the sea."
"O hold your tongue, my sprightly flower, Let a' your mourning be;
I'll show you how the lilies grow On the banks o' Italy."
65[Pg 208]
She hadna sailed on the sea A day but barely ane,
Till the thoughts o' grief came in her mind, And she lang'd for to be hame.
"O gentle death, come cut my breath, 70I may be dead ere morn;
I may be buried in Scottish ground, Where I was bred and born."
"O hold your tongue, my lily leesome thing, Let a' your mourning be; 75
But for a while we'll stay at Rose Isle, Then see a far countrie.
"Ye'se ne'er be buried in Scottish ground, Nor land ye's nae mair see;
I brought you away to punish you, 80For the breaking your vows to me.
"I said ye shou'd see the lilies grow On the banks o' Italy;
But I'll let you see the fishes swim, In the bottom o' the sea."
85
He reached his band to the topmast, Made a' the sails gae down;
And in the twinkling o' an e'e, Baith ship and crew did drown.
The fatal flight o' this wretched maid[Pg 209] 90Did reach her ain countrie;
Her husband then distracted ran, And this lament made he:—
"O wae be to the ship, the ship, And wae be to the sea, 95
And wae be to the mariners, Took Jeanie Douglas frae me!
"O bonny, bonny was my love, A pleasure to behold;
The very hair o' my love's head 100Was like the threads o' gold.
"O bonny was her cheek, her cheek, And bonny was her chin;
And bonny was the bride she was, The day she was made mine!"
*** The following stanzas from a version of this ballad printed at
Philadelphia (and called The House Carpenter) are given in Graham's
Illustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858.
"I might have married the king's daughter dear;" "You might have married her," cried she,
"For I am married to a House Carpenter, And a fine young man is he."
"Oh dry up your tears, my own true love, And cease your weeping," cried he;
"For soon you'll see your own happy home, On the banks of old Tennessee."
From Buchan's ballads of the North of Scotland, (i. 227.)
"There is a fashion in this land, And even come to this country,
That every lady should meet her lord, When he is newly come frae sea:
5
"Some wi' hawks, and some wi' hounds, And other some wi' gay monie;
But I will gae myself alone, And set his young son on his knee."
She's ta'en her young son in her arms, 10And nimbly walk'd by yon sea strand;
And there she spy'd her father's ship, As she was sailing to dry land.
"Where hae ye put my ain gude lord, This day he stays sae far frae me?" 15
"If ye be wanting your ain gude lord, A sight o' him ye'll never see."
[Pg 211]
"Was he brunt, or was he shot? Or was he drowned in the sea?
Or what's become o' my ain gude lord, 20That he will ne'er appear to me?"
"He wasna brunt, nor was he shot, Nor was he drowned in the sea;
He was slain in Dumfermling, A fatal day to you and me."
25
"Come in, come in, my merry young men, Come in and drink the wine wi' me;
And a' the better ye shall fare, For this gude news ye tell to me."
She's brought them down to yon cellar, 30She brought them fifty steps and three;
She birled wi' them the beer and wine, Till they were as drunk as drunk could be.
Then she has lock'd her cellar door, For there were fifty steps and three; 35
"Lie there wi' my sad malison, For this bad news ye've tauld to me."
She's ta'en the keys intill her hand, And threw them deep, deep in the sea;
"Lie there wi' my sad malison, 40Till my gude lord return to me."
[Pg 212]
Then she sat down in her own room, And sorrow lull'd her fast asleep;
And up it starts her own gude lord, And even at that lady's feet.
45
"Take here the keys, Janet," he says, "That ye threw deep, deep in the sea;
And ye'll relieve my merry young men, For they've nane o' the swick o' me.
"They shot the shot, and drew the stroke, 50And wad in red bluid to the knee;
Nae sailors mair for their lord coud do, Nor my young men they did for me."
"I hae a question at you to ask, Before that ye depart frae me; 55
You'll tell to me what day I'll die, And what day will my burial be?"
"I hae nae mair o' God's power Than he has granted unto me;
But come to heaven when ye will, 60There porter to you I will be.
"But ye'll be wed to a finer knight Than ever was in my degree;
Unto him ye'll hae children nine, And six o' them will be ladies free.
65
"The other three will be bold young men,[Pg 213] To fight for king and countrie;
The ane a duke, the second a knight, And third a laird o' lands sae free."
THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL.
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 258.
That the repose of the dead is disturbed by the immoderate grief of
those they have left behind them, is a belief which finds frequent
expression in popular ballads. Obstinate sorrow rouses them from their
grateful slumber; every tear that is shed for them wets their shroud;
they can get no rest, and are compelled to revisit the world they
would fain forget, to rebuke and forbid the mourning that destroys
their peace.
"Ice-cold and bloody, a lead-weight of sorrow, falls on my
breast each tear that you shed,"
says the ghost of Helgi in the Edda to his lamenting wife (Helgak.
Hundingsb. II.) The same idea is found in the German ballad, Der
Vorwirth, Erk's Liederhort, No. 46, 46 a, and in various tales, as
Das Todtenhemdchen, (K.u.H. Märchen, No. 109, and note), etc. In
like manner Sir Aage, in a well-known Danish ballad (Grundtvig, No.
90), and the corresponding Sorgens Magt, Svenska F.V., No. 6.
[Pg 214]"Every time thou weepest for me, Thy heart makest sad, Then all within, my coffin stands full Of clotted blood."
Rarely is the silence of the grave broken for purposes of consolation.
Yet some cases there are, as in a Lithuanian ballad cited by
Wackernagel, Altd. Blätter, i. 176, and a Spanish ballad noticed by
Talvj, Versuch, p. 141. The present ballad seems to belong to the
latter class rather than the former, but it is so imperfect that its
true character cannot be determined.
Chambers maintains, we think erroneously, that this ballad is a
fragment of The Clerk's Twa Sons o' Owsenford. See the second volume
of this collection, page 63.
There lived a wife at Usher's Well, And a wealthy wife was she,
She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them o'er the sea.
5
They hadna been a week from her, A week but barely ane,
When word came to the carline wife, That her three sons were gane.
They hadna been a week from her, 10A week but barely three,
When word came to the carline wife, That her sons she'd never see.
"I wish the wind may never cease,[Pg 215] Nor
fishes in the flood, 15
Till my three sons come hame to me, In earthly flesh and blood."—
It fell about the Martinmas, When nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons came hame, 20And their hats were o' the birk.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch, Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise, That birk grew fair eneugh.
25
"Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well!
For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well."—
And she has made to them a bed, 30She's made it large and wide;
And she's ta'en her mantle her about, Sat down at the bed-side.
Or, a relation of a young man, who, a month after his death, appeared
to his sweetheart, and carried her on horseback behind him for forty
miles in two hours, and was never seen after but in his grave.
From A Collection of Old Ballads, i. 266. In Moore's Pictorial Book
of Ancient Ballad Poetry (p. 463) is a copy from a broadside in the
Roxburghe collection.
The Suffolk Miracle has an external resemblance to several noble
ballads, but the likeness does not extend below the surface. It is
possible that we have here the residuum of an old poem, from which all
the beauty and spirit have been exhaled in the course of tradition;
but as the ballad now exists, it is a vulgar ghost-story, without any
motive. Regarding the external form alone, we may place by its side
the Breton ballad, Le Frère de Lait, in Villemarqué's Chants
Populaires de la Bretagne, vol. i. No. 22 (translated by Miss
Costello, Quart. Review, vol. 68, p. 75), the Romaic ballad of
Constantine and Arete, in Fauriel's Chants Populaires de la Grèce
Moderne, p. 406 (see Appendix), and the Servian ballad (related to
the Romaic, and perhaps derived from it), Jelitza and her Brothers,
Talvj, Volkslieder der Serben, i. 160, all of them among the most
beautiful specimens in this kind of literature; and also Bürger's
Lenore. It has been [Pg 218]once or twice most absurdly suggested that
Lenore owed its existence to this Suffolk Miracle. The difference,
indeed, is not greater than between a "Chronicle History" and
Macbeth; it is however certain that Bürger's ballad is all his own,
except the hint of the ghostly horseman and one or two phrases, which
he took from the description of a Low German ballad. The editors of
the Wunderhorn claim to give this ballad, vol. ii. p. 19. An
equivalent prose tradition is well known in Germany. Most of the
ballads relating to the return of departed spirits are brought
together in an excellent article by Wackernagel in the Altdeutsche
Blätter, i. 174.
A wonder stranger ne'er was known
Than what I now shall treat upon.
In Suffolk there did lately dwell
A farmer rich and known full well.
5
He had a daughter fair and bright,
On whom he placed his chief delight;
Her beauty was beyond compare,
She was both virtuous and fair.
There was a young man living by, 10
Who was so charmed with her eye,
That he could never be at rest;
He was by love so much possest.
He made address to her, and she
Did grant him love immediately; 15
But when her father came to hear,
He parted her and her poor dear.
Forty miles distant was she sent,[Pg 219]
Unto his brother's, with intent
That she should there so long remain, 20
Till she had changed her mind again.
Hereat this young man sadly grieved,
But knew not how to be relieved;
He sighed and sobbed continually
That his true love he could not see.
25
She by no means could to him send,
Who was her heart's espoused friend;
He sighed, he grieved, but all in vain,
For she confined must still remain.
He mourned so much, that doctor's art 30
Could give no ease unto his heart,
Who was so strangely terrified,
That in short time for love he died.
She that from him was sent away
Knew nothing of his dying day, 35
But constant still she did remain,
And loved the dead, although in vain.
After he had in grave been laid
A month or more, unto this maid
He came in middle of the night, 40
Who joyed to see her heart's delight.
Her father's horse, which well she knew,[Pg 220]
Her mother's hood and safe-guard too,
He brought with him to testify
Her parents order he came by.
45
Which when her uncle understood,
He hoped it would be for her good,
And gave consent to her straightway,
That with him she should come away.
When she was got her love behind, 50
They passed as swift as any wind,
That in two hours, or little more,
He brought her to her father's door.
But as they did this great haste make,
He did complain his head did ake; 55
Her handkerchief she then took out,
And tied the same his head about.
And unto him she thus did say:
"Thou art as cold as any clay;
When we come home a fire we'll have;" 60
But little dreamed he went to grave.
Soon were they at her father's door,
And after she ne'er saw him more;
"I'll set the horse up," then he said,
And there he left this harmless maid.
65
She knocked, and straight a man he cried,[Pg 221]
"Who's there?" "'Tis I," she then replied;
Who wondred much her voice to hear,
And was possessed with dread and fear.
Her father he did tell, and then 70
He stared like an affrighted man:
Down stairs he ran, and when he see her,
Cried out, "My child, how cam'st thou here?"
"Pray, sir, did you not send for me,
By such a messenger?" said she: 75
Which made his hair stare on his head,
As knowing well that he was dead.
"Where is he?" then to her he said;
"He's in the stable," quoth the maid.
"Go in," said he, "and go to bed; 80
I'll see the horse well littered."
He stared about, and there could he
No shape of any mankind see,
But found his horse all on a sweat;
Which made him in a deadly fret.
85
His daughter he said nothing to,
Nor none else, (though full well they knew
That he was dead a month before,)
For fear of grieving her full sore.
Her father to the father went[Pg 222] 90
Of the deceased, with full intent
To tell him what his daughter said;
So both came back unto this maid.
They ask'd her, and she still did say
'Twas he that then brought her away; 95
Which when they heard they were amazed,
And on each other strangely gazed.
A handkerchief she said she tied
About his head, and that they tried;
The sexton they did speak unto, 100
That he the grave would then undo.
Affrighted then they did behold
His body turning into mould,
And though he had a month been dead,
This handkerchief was about his head.
105
This thing unto her then they told,
And the whole truth they did unfold;
She was thereat so terrified
And grieved, that she quickly died.
Part not true love, you rich men, then; 110
But, if they be right honest men
Your daughters love, give them their way,
For force oft breeds their lives decay.
This fragment, Motherwell tells us, was communicated to him by an
ingenious friend, who remembered having heard it sung in his youth. He
does not vouch for its antiquity, and we have little or no hesitation
in pronouncing it a modern composition.
Whan he cam to his ain luve's bouir, He tirled at the pin,
And sae ready was his fair fause luve To rise and let him in.
5
"O welcome, welcome, Sir Roland," she says, "Thrice welcome thou art to me;
For this night thou wilt feast in my secret bouir, And to-morrow we'll wedded be."
"This night is hallow-eve," he said,[Pg 224] 10"And to-morrow is hallow-day;
And I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen, That has made my heart fu' wae.
"I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen, And I wish it may cum to gude: 15
I dreamed that ye slew my best grew hound, And gied me his lappered blude."
"Unbuckle your belt, Sir Roland," she said, "And set you safely down."
"O your chamber is very dark, fair maid, 20And the night is wondrous lown."
"Yes, dark, dark is my secret bowir, And lown the midnight may be;
For there is none waking in a' this tower, But thou, my true love, and me."
25
She has mounted on her true love's steed, By the ae light o' the moon;
She has whipped him and spurred him, And roundly she rade frae the toun.
[Pg 225]
She hadna ridden a mile o' gate, 30Never a mile but ane,
Whan she was aware of a tall young man, Slow riding o'er the plain.
She turned her to the right about, Then to the left turn'd she; 35
But aye, 'tween her and the wan moonlight, That tall knight did she see.
And he was riding burd alane, On a horse as black as jet;
But tho' she followed him fast and fell, 40No nearer could she get.
"O stop! O stop! young man," she said, "For I in dule am dight;
O stop, and win a fair lady's luve, If you be a leal true knight."
45
But nothing did the tall knight say, And nothing did he blin;
Still slowly rode he on before, And fast she rade behind.
She whipped her steed, she spurred her steed, 50Till his breast was all a foam;
But nearer unto that tall young knight, By Our Ladye, she could not come.
"O if you be a gay young knight,[Pg 226] As well I trow you be, 55
Pull tight your bridle reins, and stay Till I come up to thee."
But nothing did that tall knight say, And no whit did he blin,
Until he reached a broad river's side, 60And there he drew his rein.
"O is this water deep," he said, "As it is wondrous dun?
Or it is sic as a saikless maid And a leal true knight may swim?"
65
"The water it is deep," she said, "As it is wondrous dun;
But it is sic as a saikless maid And a leal true knight may swim."
The knight spurred on his tall black steed, 70The lady spurred on her brown;
And fast they rade unto the flood, And fast they baith swam down.
"The water weets my tae," she said, "The water weets my knee; 75
And hold up my bridle reins, sir knight, For the sake of Our Ladye."
[Pg 227]
"If I would help thee now," he said, "It were a deadly sin;
For I've sworn neir to trust a fair may's word, 80Till the water weets her chin."
"O the water weets my waist," she said, "Sae does it weet my skin;
And my aching heart rins round about, The burn maks sic a din.
85
"The water is waxing deeper still, Sae does it wax mair wide;
And aye the farther that we ride on, Farther off is the other side.
"O help me now, thou false, false knight, 90Have pity on my youth;
For now the water jawes owre my head, And it gurgles in my mouth."
The knight turned right and round about, All in the middle stream, 95
And he stretched out his head to that lady, But loudly she did scream.
"O this is hallow-morn," he said, "And it is your bridal day;
But sad would be that gay wedding, 100If bridegroom and bride were away.
"And ride on, ride on, proud Margaret![Pg 228] Till the water comes o'er your bree;
For the bride maun ride deep, and deeper yet, Wha rides this ford wi' me.
105
"Turn round, turn round, proud Margaret! Turn ye round, and look on me;
Thou hast killed a true knight under trust, And his ghost now links on with thee."
FRAGMENT OF THE BALLAD OF KING ARTHUR AND THE KING OF CORNWALL.
Printed from the celebrated Percy MS. in Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 275.
The editor has added the following note.
"It has no title, and the first line has been cut away by the ignorant
binder to whom the volume was intrusted, but both are supplied from
the notice given of the ballad in the Dissertation prefixed to vol.
iii. of the Reliques, p. xxxvii. Dr. Percy has added in the margin
of the MS. these words: "To the best of my remembrance, this was the
first line, before the binder cut it." The poem is very imperfect,
owing to the leaves having been half torn away to light fires (!) as
the Bishop tells us, but I am bound to add, previous to its coming
into his possession. The story is so singular, that it is to be hoped
an earlier and complete copy of it may yet be recovered. On no account
perhaps is it more remarkable, than the fact of its close imitation of
the famous gabs made by Charlemagne and his companions at the court
of King Hugon, which are first met with in a romance of the twelfth
century, published by M. Michel from a MS. in the British Museum,
12mo., London, 1836, and transferred at a later period to the prose
romance of Galien Rethoré, printed by Verard, fol., 1500, and often
afterwards. In the [Pg 232]absence of other evidence, it is to be presumed
that the author of the ballad borrowed from the printed work,
substituting Arthur for Charlemagne, Gawayne for Oliver, Tristram for
Roland, etc., and embellishing his story by converting King Hugon's
spy into a "lodly feend," by whose agency the gabs are accomplished.
It is further worthy of notice, that the writer seems to regard Arthur
as the sovereign of Little Britain, and alludes to an intrigue between
the King of Cornwall and Queen Guenever, which is nowhere, as far as I
recollect, hinted at in the romances of the Round Table."
"Come here my cozen, Gawain, so gay;
My sisters sonne be yee;
For you shall see one of the fairest Round Tables,
That ever you see with your eye."
5
Then bespake [the] Lady Queen Guenever,
And these were the words said shee:
"I know where a Round Table is, thou noble king,
Is worth thy Round Table and other such three.
"The trestle that stands under this Round Table," she said, 10
"Lowe downe to the mould,
It is worth thy Round Table, thou worthy king,
Thy halls, and all thy gold.
"The place where this Round Table stands in,
It is worth thy castle, thy gold, thy fee; 15
And all good Litle Britaine,"—
"Where may that table be, lady?" quoth hee,
[Pg 233]
"Or where may all that goodly building be?"
"You shall it seeke," shee sayd, "till you it find,
For you shall never gett more of me."
20
Then bespake him noble King Arthur,
These were the words said hee;
"Ile make mine avow to God,
And alsoe to the Trinity,
"Ile never sleepe one night, there as I doe another, 25
Till that Round Table I see;
Sir Marramiles and Sir Tristeram,
Fellowes that ye shall bee.
"Weele be clad in palmers weede,
Five palmers we will bee; 30
There is noe outlandish man will us abide,
Nor will us come nye."
Then they rived east and
they rived west,
In many a strange country.
Then they travelled a litle further, 35
They saw a battle new sett;
"Now, by my faith," saies noble King Arthur,
[Half a page is here torn away.]
But when he came that castle to,
And to the palace gate,
Soe ready was ther a proud porter, 40
And met him soone therat.
[Pg 234]
Shooes of gold the porter had on,
And all his other rayment was unto the same;
"Now, by my faith," saies noble King Arthur,
"Yonder is a minion swaine."
45
Then bespake noble King Arthur,
These were the words says hee:
"Come hither, thou proud porter,
I pray thee come hither to me.
"I have two poor rings of my finger, 50The better of them Ile give to thee;
[To] tell who may be lord of this castle," he saies,
"Or who is lord in this cuntry?"
"Cornewall King," the porter sayes,
"There is none soe rich as hee; 55
Neither in Christendome, nor yet in heathennest,
None hath soe much gold as he."
And then bespake him noble King Arthur,
These were the words sayes hee:
"I have two poore rings of my finger, 60
The better of them Ile give thee,
If thou wilt greete him well, Cornewall King,
And greete him well from me.
"Pray him for one nights lodging, and two meales meate,
For his love that dyed uppon a tree; 65
A bue ghesting, and two meales meate, 65
For his love that dyed uppon a tree.
[Pg 235]
"A bue ghesting, and two meales meate,
For his love that was of virgin borne,
And in the morning that we may scape away, 70
Either without scath or scorne."
Then forth is gone this proud porter,
As fast as he cold hye;
And when he came befor Cornewall King,
He kneeled downe on his knee.
75
Sayes, "I have beene porter, man, at thy gate,
[Half a page is wanting.]
....our Lady was borne,
Then thought Cornewall King these palmers had beene in Britt.
Then bespake him Cornewall King,
These were the words he said there: 80
"Did you ever know a comely King,
His name was King Arthur?"
And then bespake him noble King Arthur,
These were the words said hee:
"I doe not know that comly King, 85
But once my selfe I did him see."
Then bespake Cornwall King againe,
These were the words said he.
[Pg 236]
Sayes, "Seven yeere I was clad and fed,
In Litle Brittaine, in a bower; 90
I had a daughter by King Arthurs wife,
It now is called my flower;
For King Arthur, that kindly cockward,
Hath none such in his bower.
"For I durst sweare, and save my othe, 95
That same lady soe bright,
That a man that were laid on his death-bed
Wold open his eyes on her to have sight."
"Now, by my faith," sayes noble King Arthur,
"And thats a full faire wight!"
100
And then bespoke Cornewall [King] againe,
And these were the words
he said:
"Come hither, five or three of my knights,
And feitch me downe my steed;
King Arthur, that foule cockeward, 105
Hath none such, if he had need.
"For I can ryde him as far on a day,
As King Arthur can doe any of his on three.
And is it not a pleasure for a King,
When he shall ryde forth on his journey?
110
"For the eyes that beene in his head, They
glister as doth the gleed;"—
"Now, by my faith," says noble King Arthur,
[Half a page is wanting.]
[Pg 237]
No body....
But one thats learned to speake.
115
Then King Arthur to his bed was brought,
A greeived man was hee;
And soe were all his fellowes with him
From him they thought never to flee.
Then take they did that lodly
boome, 120
And under thrubchandler closed was hee;
And he was set by King Arthurs bed-side,
To heere theire talke, and theire com'nye;
That he might come forth, and make proclamation,
Long before it was day; 125
It was more for King Cornwalls pleasure,
Then it was for King Arthurs pay.
And when King Arthur on his bed was laid,
These were the words said hee:
"Ile make mine avow to God, 130
And alsoe to the Trinity,
That Ile be the bane of Cornwall Kinge
Litle Brittaine or ever I see!"
"It is an unadvised vow," saies Gawaine the gay,
"As ever king hard make I; 135
But wee that beene five christian men,
Of the christen faith are wee;
And we shall fight against anoynted King,
And all his armorie."
[Pg 238]
And then he spake him noble Arthur, 140
And these were the words said he:
"Why, if thou be afraid, Sir Gawaine the gay,
Goe home, and drinke wine in thine owne country."
And then bespake Sir Gawaine the gay,
And these were the words said hee: 145
"Nay, seeing you have made such a hearty vow,
Here another vow make will I.
"Ile make mine avow to God,
And alsoe to the Trinity,
That I will have yonder faire lady 150
To Litle Brittaine with mee.
"Ile hose her hourly to my
hart,
And with her Ile worke my will;
[Half a page is wanting.]
These were the words sayd hee:
"Befor I wold wrestle with yonder feend, 155
It is better be drowned in the sea."
And then bespake Sir Bredbeddle,
And these were the words said he:
"Why, I will wrestle with yon lodly feend,
God! my governor thou shalt bee."
160[Pg 239]
Then bespake him noble Arthur,
And these were
the words said he:
"What weapons wilt thou have, thou gentle knight?
I pray thee tell to me."
He sayes, "Collen brand Ile have in my hand, 165
And a Millaine knife fast be my knee;
And a Danish axe fast in my hands,
That a sure weapon I thinke wilbe."
Then with his Collen brand, that he had in his hand,
The bunge of the trubchandler he burst in three. 170
What that start out a lodly feend,
With seven heads, and one body.
The fyer towards the element flew,
Out of his mouth, where was great plentie;
The knight stoode in the middle, and fought, 175
That it was great joy to see.
Till his Collaine brand brake in his hand,
And his Millaine knife burst on his knee;
And then the Danish axe burst in his hand first,
That a sur weapon he thought shold be.
180
But now is the knight left without any weapone,
And alacke! it was the more pitty;
But a surer weapon then had he one,
Had never Lord in Christentye:
And all was but one litle booke, 185
He found it by the side of the sea.
[Pg 240]
He found it at the sea-side,
Wrucked upp in a floode;
Our Lord had written it with his hands,
And sealed it with his bloode.
[Half a page is wanting.]
190
"That thou doe....
But ly still in that wall of stone;
Till I have beene with noble King Arthur,
And told him what I have done."
And when he came to the King's chamber, 195
He cold of his curtesie
Saye, "Sleep you, wake you, noble King Arthur?
And ever Jesus watch yee!"
"Nay, I am not sleeping, I am waking,"
These were the words said hee: 200
"For thee I have car'd; how hast thou fared?
O gentle knight, let me see."
The knight wrought the King his booke,
Bad him behold, reede, and see;
And ever he found it on the backside of the leafe, 205
As noble Arthur wold wish it to be.
And then bespake him King Arthur,
"Alas! thou gentle knight, how may this be,
That I might see him in the same licknesse,
That he stood unto thee?"
210[Pg 241]
And then bespake him
the Greene Knight,
These were the words said hee:
"If youle stand stifly in the battell stronge,
For I have won all the victory."
Then bespake him the King againe, 215
And these were the words said hee:
"If we stand not stifly in this battell strong,
Wee are worthy to be hanged all on a tree."
Then bespake him the Greene Knight,
These were the words said hee: 220
Saies, "I doe coniure thee, thou fowle feend,
In the same licknesse thou stood unto me."
With that start out a lodly feend,
With seven heads, and one body;
The fier towarde the element flaugh, 225
Out of his mouth, where was great plenty.
The knight stood in the middle....
[Half a page is wanting.]
... the space of an houre,
I know not what they did.
And then bespake him the Greene Knight, 230
And these were the words said he:
Saith, "I coniure thee, thou fowle feend,
That thou feitch downe the steed that we see."
And then forth is gone Burlow-beanie,
As fast as he cold hie; 235[Pg 242]
And feitch he did that faire steed,
And came againe by and by.
Then bespake him Sir Marramile,
And these were the words said hee:
"Riding of this steed, brother Bredbeddle, 240
The mastery belongs to me."
Marramiles tooke the steed to his hand,
To ryd him he was full bold;
He cold noe more make him goe,
Then a child of three yeere old.
245
He laid
uppon him with heele and hand,
With yard that was soe fell;
"Helpe! brother Bredbeddle," says Marramile,
"For I thinke he be the devill of hell.
"Helpe! brother Bredbeddle," says Marramile. 250
"Helpe! for Christs pittye;
For without thy help, brother Bredbeddle,
He will never be rydden "
for me.
Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle,
These were the words said he: 255
"I coniure thee, thou
Burlow-beane,
Thou tell me how this steed was riddin in his country."
He saith, "There is a gold wand,
Stands in King Cornwalls study windowe.
"Let him take that wand in that window,[Pg 243] 260
And strike three strokes on that steed;
And then he will spring forth of his hand,
As sparke doth out of gleede."
Then bespake him the Greene Knight,
[Half a page is wanting.]
A lowd blast....
And then bespake Sir Bredbeddle, 265
To the feend these words said hee:
Says, "I coniure thee, thou Burlow-beanie,
The powder-box thou feitch me."
Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie, 270
As fast as he cold hie;
And feich he did the powder-box,
And came againe by and by.
Then Sir Tristeram tooke powder forth of that box,
And blent it with warme sweet milke; 275
And there put it unto the horne,
And swilled it about in that ilke.
Then he tooke the horne in his hand,
And a lowd blast he blew;
He rent the horne up to the midst, 280
All his fellowes this
they knew.
Then bespake him the Greene Knight,[Pg 244]
These were the words said he:
Saies. "I coniure thee, thou Burlow-beanie,
That thou feitch me the sword that I see."
285
Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie,
As fast as he cold hie;
And feitch he did that faire sword,
And came againe by and by.
Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle, 290
To the king these words said he:
"Take this sword in thy hand, thou noble King,
For the vowes sake that thou made Ile give it thee;
And goe strike off King Cornewalls head,
In bed
where he doth lye."
295
Then forth is gone noble King Arthur,
As fast as he cold hye;
And strucken he hath King Cornwalls head,
And came againe by and by.
It is not impossible that this ballad should be the one quoted by
Edgar in King Lear, (Act iii. sc. 4:)
"Child Rowland to the dark tower came."
We have extracted the fragment given by Jamieson, with the breaks in
the story filled out, from Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p.
397; and we have added his translation of the Danish ballad of Rosmer
Hafmand, which exhibits a striking similarity to Child Rowland,
from Popular Ballads and Songs, ii. 202. The tale of the Red Etin,
as given in Chamber's Pop. Rhymes of Scotland, p. 56, has much
resemblance to Jamieson's story, and, like it, is interspersed with
verse.
The occurrence of the name Merlin is by no means a sufficient ground
for connecting this tale, as Jamieson would do, with the cycle of King
Arthur. For Merlin, as Grundtvig has remarked (Folkeviser, ii. 79),
did not originally belong to that cycle, and again, his name seems to
have been given in Scotland to any sort of wizard or prophet.
["King Arthur's sons o' merry Carlisle] Were playing at the ba';
And there was their sister Burd Ellen, I' the mids amang them a'.
5
"Child Rowland kick'd it wi' his foot, And keppit it wi' his knee;
And ay, as he play'd out o'er them a', O'er the kirk he gar'd it flee.
"Burd Ellen round about the isle[Pg 246] 10To seek the ba' is gane;
But they bade lang and ay langer, And she camena back again.
"They sought her east, they sought her west, They sought her up and down; 15
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] For she was nae gait found!"
At last her eldest brother went to the Warluck Merlin, (Myrddin
Wyldt,) and asked if he knew where his sister, the fair Burd Ellen,
was. "The fair Burd Ellen," said the Warluck Merlin, "is carried away
by the fairies, and is now in the castle of the king of Elfland; and
it were too bold an undertaking for the stoutest knight in Christendom
to bring her back." "Is it possible to bring her back?" said her
brother, "and I will do it, or perish in the attempt." "Possible
indeed it is," said the Warluck Merlin; "but woe to the man or
mother's son who attempts it, if he is not well instructed beforehand
of what he is to do."
Influenced no less by the glory of such an enterprise, than by the
desire of rescuing his sister, the brother of the fair Burd Ellen
resolved to undertake the adventure; and after proper instructions
from Merlin, (which he failed in observing,) he set out on his
perilous expedition.
"But they bade lang and ay langer, Wi' dout and mickle maen;
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] 20For he camena back again."
[Pg 247]The second brother in like manner set out; but failed in observing the
instructions of the Warluck Merlin; and
"They bade lang and ay langer, Wi' mickle dout and maen;
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] For he camena back again."
Child Rowland, the youngest brother of the fair Burd Ellen, then
resolved to go; but was strenuously opposed by the good queen,
[Gwenevra,] who was afraid of losing all her children.
At last the good queen [Gwenevra] gave him her consent and her
blessing; he girt on (in great form, and with all due solemnity of
sacerdotal consecration,) his father's good claymore, [Excalibar,]
that never struck in vain, and repaired to the cave of the Warluck
Merlin. The Warluck Merlin gave him all necessary instructions for his
journey and conduct, the most important of which were, that he should
kill every person he met with after entering the land of Fairy, and
should neither eat nor drink of what was offered him in that country,
whatever his hunger or thirst might be; for if he tasted or touched in
Elfland, he must remain in the power of the Elves, and never see
middle eard again.
So Child Rowland set out on his journey, and travelled "on and ay
farther on," till he came to where (as he had been forewarned by the
Warluck Merlin,) he found the king of Elfland's horse-herd feeding his
horses.
"Canst thou tell me," said Child Rowland to the [Pg 248]horse-herd, "where
the king of Elfland's castle is?"—"I cannot tell thee," said the
horse-herd; "but go on a little farther, and thou wilt come to the
cow-herd, and he, perhaps, may tell thee." So Child Rowland drew the
good claymore, [Excalibar,] that never struck in vain, and hewed off
the head of the horse-herd. Child Rowland then went on a little
farther, till he came to the king of Elfland's cow-herd, who was
feeding his cows. "Canst thou tell me," said Child Rowland to the
cow-herd, "where the king of Elfland's castle is?"—"I cannot tell
thee," said the cow-herd; "but go on a little farther, and thou wilt
come to the sheep-herd, and he perhaps may tell thee." So Child
Rowland drew the good claymore, [Excalibar,] that never struck in
vain, and hewed off the head of the cow-herd. He then went on a little
farther, till he came to the sheep-herd. * * * * [The sheep-herd,
goat-herd, and swine-herd are all, each in his turn, served in the
same manner; and lastly he is referred to the hen-wife.]
"Go on yet a little farther," said the hen-wife, "till thou come to a
round green hill surrounded with rings (terraces) from the bottom to
the top; go round it three times widershins, and every time say,
"Open, door! open, door! and let me come in; and the third time the
door will open, and you may go in." So Child Rowland drew the good
claymore, [Excalibar,] that never struck in vain, and hewed off the
head of the hen-wife. Then went he three times widershins round the
green hill, crying, "Open, door! open, door! and let me come in;" and
the third time the door opened, and he went in.
It immediately closed behind him; and he proceeded through a long
passage, where the air was soft and [Pg 249]agreeably warm like a May
evening, as is all the air of Elfland. The light was a sort of
twilight or gloaming; but there were neither windows nor candles, and
he knew not whence it came, if it was not from the walls and roof,
which were rough, and arched like a grotto, and composed of a clear
transparent rock, incrusted with sheeps-silver and spar, and various
bright stones. At last he came to two wide and lofty folding-doors,
which stood a-jar. He opened them, and entered a large and spacious
hall, whose richness and brilliance no tongue can tell. It seemed to
extend the whole length and height of the hill. The superb Gothic
pillars by which the roof was supported, were so large and so lofty,
(said my seannachy,) that the pillars of the Chanry Kirk,
[4] or of
Pluscardin Abbey, are no more to be compared to them, than the Knock
of Alves is to be compared to Balrinnes or Ben-a-chi. They were of
gold and silver, and were fretted like the west window of the Chanry
Kirk, with wreaths of flowers composed of diamonds and precious stones
of all manner of beautiful colors. The key-stones of the arches above,
instead of coats of arms and other devices, were ornamented with
clusters of diamonds in the same manner. And from the middle of the
roof, where the principal arches met, was hung by a gold chain, an
immense lamp of one hollowed pearl, perfectly transparent, in the
midst of which was suspended a large carbuncle, that by the power of
magic continually turned round, and shed over all the hall a clear and
mild light like the setting sun; but the hall was so large, and these
dazzling objects so far removed, [Pg 250]that their blended radiance cast no
more than a pleasing lustre, and excited no more than agreeable
sensations in the eyes of Child Rowland.
The furniture of the hall was suitable to its architecture; and at the
farther end, under a splendid canopy, seated on a gorgeous sofa of
velvet, silk, and gold, and "kembing her yellow hair wi' a silver
kemb,"
25
"There was his sister burd Ellen; She stood up him before."
Says,
"'God rue on thee, poor luckless fode! What has thou to do here?
"'And hear ye this, my youngest brither, 30Why badena ye at hame?
Had ye a hundur and thousand lives, Ye canna brook ane o' them.
"'And sit thou down; and wae, O wae That ever thou was born; 35
For come the King o' Elfland in, Thy leccam is forlorn!'"
A long conversation then takes place; Child Rowland tells her the news
[of merry Carlisle,] and of his own expedition; and concludes with the
observation, that, after this long and fatiguing journey to the castle
of the king of Elfland, he is very hungry.
Burd Ellen looked wistfully and mournfully at him, and shook her head,
but said nothing. Acting under the influence of a magic which she
could not resist, she arose, and brought him a golden bowl full of
bread and milk, which she presented to him with the same timid,
tender, and anxious expression of solicitude.
[Pg 251]Remembering the instructions of the Warluck Merlin, "Burd Ellen," said
Child Rowland, "I will neither taste nor touch till I have set thee
free!" Immediately the folding-doors burst open with tremendous
violence, and in came the king of Elfland,
"With 'fi, fi, fo, and fum! I smell the blood of a Christian man!
Be he dead, be he living, wi' my brand 40I'll clash his harns frae his harn-pan!'"
"Strike, then, Bogle of Hell, if thou darest!" exclaimed the undaunted
Child Rowland, starting up, and drawing the good claymore,
[Excalibar,] that never struck in vain.
A furious combat ensued, and the king of Elfland was felled to the
ground; but Child Rowland spared him on condition that he should
restore to him his two brothers, who lay in a trance in a corner of
the hall, and his sister, the fair burd Ellen. The king of Elfland
then produced a small crystal phial, containing a bright red liquor,
with which he anointed the lips, nostrils, eye-lids, ears, and
finger-ends of the two young men, who immediately awoke as from a
profound sleep, during which their souls had quitted their bodies, and
they had seen, &c., &c., &c. So they all four returned in triumph to
[merry Carlisle.]
Such was the rude outline of the romance of Child Rowland, as it was
told to me when I was about seven or eight years old, by a country
tailor then at work in my father's house. He was an ignorant and dull
good sort of honest man, who seemed never to have questioned the truth
of what he related. Where the et cæteras[Pg 252] are put down, many curious
particulars have been omitted, because I was afraid of being deceived
by my memory, and substituting one thing for another. It is right also
to admonish the reader, that the Warluck Merlin, Child Rowland, and
Burd Ellen, were the only names introduced in his recitation; and
that the others, inclosed within brackets, are assumed upon the
authority of the locality given to the story by the mention of
Merlin. In every other respect I have been as faithful as possible.
[4] The cathedral of Elgin naturally enough furnished
similes to a man who had never in his life been twenty miles distant
from it.
The ballad of Rosmer is found in Danish, Swedish, Faroish, and
Norse. All the questions bearing upon its origin, and the relations of
the various forms in which the story exists, are amply discussed by
Grundtvig, vol. ii. p. 72. Three versions of the Danish ballad are
given by Vedel, all of which Jamieson has translated. The following is
No. 31 in Abrahamson.
There dwalls a lady in Danmarck, Lady Hillers lyle men her ca';
And she's gar'd bigg a new castell, That shines o'er Danmarck a'.
5
Her dochter was stown awa frae her; She sought for her wide-whare;
But the mair she sought, and the less she fand,— That wirks her sorrow and care.
And she's gar'd bigg a new ship, 10Wi' vanes o' flaming goud,
Wi' mony a knight and mariner, Sae stark in need bestow'd.
She's followed her sons down to the strand, That chaste and noble fre; 15
And wull and waif for eight lang years They sail'd upon the sea.
[Pg 254]
And eight years wull and waif they sail'd, O' months that seem'd sae lang;
Syne they sail'd afore a high castell, 20And to the land can gang.
And the young lady Svanè lyle, In the bower that was the best,
Says, "Wharfrae cam thir frem swains, Wi' us this night to guest?"
25
Then up and spak her youngest brither, Sae wisely ay spak he;
"We are a widow's three poor sons, Lang wilder'd on the sea.
"In Danmarck were we born and bred, 30Lady Hillers lyle was our mither;
Our sister frae us was stown awa, We findna whare or whither."
"In Danmarck were ye born and bred? Was Lady Hillers your mither? 35
I can nae langer heal frae thee, Thou art my youngest brither.
"And hear ye this, my youngest brither: Why bade na ye at hame?
Had ye a hunder and thousand lives, 40Ye canna brook ane o' them."
She's set him in the weiest nook She in the house can meet;
She's bidden him for the high God's sake Nouther to laugh ne greet.
45[Pg 255]
Rosmer hame frae Zealand came, And he took on to bann:
"I smell fu' weel, by my right hand, That here is a Christian man."
"There flew a bird out o'er the house, 50Wi' a man's bane in his mouth;
He coost it in, and I cast it out, As fast as e'er I couth."
But wilyly she can Rosmer win; And clapping him tenderly, 55
"It's here is come my sister-son;— Gin I lose him, I'll die.
"It's here is come, my sister-son, Frae baith our fathers' land;
And I ha'e pledged him faith and troth, 60That ye will not him bann."
"And is he come, thy sister-son, Frae thy father's land to thee?
Then I will swear my highest aith, He's dree nae skaith frae me."
65
"'Twas then the high king Rosmer, He ca'd on younkers twae:
"Ye bid proud Svanè lyle's sister-son To the chalmer afore me gae."
It was Svanè lyle's sister-son, 70Whan afore Rosmer he wan,
His heart it quook, and his body shook, Sae fley'd, he scarce dow stand.
Sae Rosmer took her sister-son,[Pg 256] Set him upon his knee; 75
He clappit him sae luifsomely, He turned baith blue and blae.
And up and spak she, Svanè lyle; "Sir Rosmer, ye're nae to learn
That your ten fingers arena sma, 80To clap sae little a bairn."
There was he till, the fifthen year, He green'd for hame and land:
"Help me now, sister Svanè lyle, To be set on the white sand."
85
It was proud Lady Svanè lyle, Afore Rosmer can stand:
"This younker sae lang in the sea has been, He greens for hame and land."
"Gin the younker sae lang in the sea has been, 90And greens for hame and land,
Then I'll gie him a kist wi' goud, Sae fitting till his hand."
"And will ye gi'e him a kist wi' goud, Sae fitting till his hand? 95
Then hear ye, my noble heartis dear, Ye bear them baith to land."
Then wrought proud Lady Svanè lyle What Rosmer little wist;
For she's tane out the goud sae red, 100And laid hersel i' the kist.
[Pg 257]
He's ta'en the man upon his back; The kist in his mouth took he;
And he has gane the lang way up Frae the bottom o' the sea.
105
"Now I ha'e borne thee to the land; Thou seest baith sun and moon;
Namena Lady Svanè for thy highest God, I beg thee as a boon."
Rosmer sprang i' the saut sea out, 110And jawp'd it up i' the sky;
But whan he cam till the castell in, Nae Svanè lyle could he spy.
Whan he came till the castell in, His dearest awa was gane; 115
Like wood he sprang the castell about, On the rock o' the black flintstane.
Glad they were in proud Hillers lyle's house, Wi' welcome joy and glee;
Hame to their friends her bairns were come, 120That had lang been in the sea.
From Scottish Traditionary Versions of Ancient Ballads, Percy
Society, xvii. p. 11.
Take warnin', a' ye ladyes fair, That wear gowd on your hair;
Come never unto Charter-woods, For Tam-a-line he's there.
5
Even about that knicht's middle O' siller bells are nine;
Nae ane comes to Charter-woods, And a may returns agen.
Ladye Margaret sits in her bouir door, 10Sewing at her silken seam;
And she lang'd to gang to Charter woods, To pou the roses green.
She hadna pou'd a rose, a rose, Nor braken a branch but ane, 15
Till by it came him true Tam-a-line, Says, "Layde, lat alane.
"O why pou ye the rose, the rose? Or why brake ye the tree?
Or why come ye to Charter-woods, 20Without leave ask'd of me?"
[Pg 259]
"I will pou the rose, the rose, And I will brake the tree;
Charter-woods are a' my ain, I'll ask nae leave o' thee."
25
He's taen her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve;
And laid her low on gude green wood, At her he spier'd nae leave.
When he had got his will o' her, 30His will as he had ta'en,
He's ta'en her by the middle sma', Set her to feet again.
She turn'd her richt and round about, To spier her true love's name, 35
But naething heard she, nor naething saw, As a' the woods grew dim.
Seven days she tarried there, Saw neither sun nor muin;
At length, by a sma' glimmerin' licht, 40Came thro' the wood her lane.
When she came to her father's court, Was fine as ony queen;
But when eight months were past and gane, Got on the gown o' green.
45
Then out it speaks an eldren knicht, As he stood at the yett;
"Our king's dochter, she gaes wi' bairn, And we'll get a' the wyte."
[Pg 260]
"O haud your tongue, ye eldren man, 50And bring me not to shame;
Although that I do gang wi' bairn, Yese naeways get the blame.
"Were my love but an earthly man, As he's an elfin knicht, 55
I wadna gie my ain true luve, For a' that's in my sicht."
Then out it speaks her brither dear, He meant to do her harm,
"There is an herb in Charter-woods 60Will twine you an' the bairn."
She's taen her mantle her about, Her coiffer by the band;
And she is on to Charter-woods, As fast as she coud gang.
65
She hadna poud a rose, a rose, Nor braken a branch but ane,
Till by it came him, Tam-a-Line, Says, "Ladye, lat alane."
"O! why pou ye the pile, Margaret, 70The pile o' the gravil green,
For to destroy the bonny bairn That we got us between?
"O! why pou ye the pile, Margaret, The pile o' the gravil gray, 75
For to destroy the bonny bairn That we got in our play?
"For if it be a knave bairn,[Pg 261] He's heir o' a' my land;
But if it be a lass bairn, 80In red gowd she shall gang."
"If my luve were an earthly man, As he's an elfin grey,
I coud gang bound, luve, for your sake, A twalmonth and a day."
85
"Indeed your luve's an earthly man, The same as well as thee;
And lang I've haunted Charter-woods, A' for your fair bodie."
"O! tell me, tell me, Tam-a-Line, 90O! tell, an' tell me true;
Tell me this nicht, an' mak' nae lee, What pedigree are you?"
"O! I hae been at gude church-door, An' I've got christendom; 95
I'm the Earl o' Forbes' eldest son, An' heir ower a' his land.
"When I was young, o' three years old, Muckle was made o' me;
My stepmither put on my claithes, 100An' ill, ill, sained she me.
"Ae fatal morning I gaed out, Dreading nae injurie;
And thinking lang, fell soun asleep, Beneath an apple tree.
105[Pg 262]
"Then by it came the Elfin Queen, And laid her hand on me;
And from that time since e'er I mind, I've been in her companie.
"O Elfin it's a bonny place, 110In it fain wad I dwell;
But aye at ilka seven years' end, They pay a tiend to hell,
And I'm sae fou o' flesh an blude, I'm sair fear'd for mysell."
115
"O tell me, tell me, Tam-a-Line, O tell, an' tell me true;
Tell me this nicht, an' mak' nae lee, What way I'll borrow you?"
"The morn is Hallowe'en nicht, 120The Elfin court will ride,
Through England, and thro' a' Scotland, And through the warld wide.
"O they begin at sky sett in, Ride a' the evenin' tide; 125
And she that will her true love borrow, At Miles-cross will him bide.
"Ye'll do ye down to Miles-cross, Between twall hours and ane;
And full your hands o' holie water, 130And cast your compass roun'.
"Then the first ane court that comes you till, Is published king and queen;
The neist ane court that comes you till,[Pg 263] It is maidens mony ane.
135
"The neist ane court that comes you till, Is footmen, grooms, and squires;
The neist ane court that comes you till, Is knichts; and I'll be there.
"I Tam-a-Line, on milk-white steed, 140A gowd star on my crown;
Because I was an earthly knicht, Got that for a renown.
"And out at my steed's right nostril, He'll breathe a fiery flame; 145
Ye'll loot you low, and sain yoursel, And ye'll be busy then.
"Ye'll tak' my horse then by the head, And lat the bridal fa';
The Queen o' Elfin she'll cry out, 150'True Tam-a-Line's awa'.
"Then I'll appear into your arms Like the wolf that ne'er wad tame;
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, Case we ne'er meet again.
155
"Then I'll appear into your arms Like fire that burns sae bauld;
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, I'll be as iron cauld.
"Then I'll appear into your arms 160Like the adder an' the snake; [Pg 264]
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, I am your warld's maike.
"Then I'll appear into your arms Like to the deer sae wild; 165
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, And I'll father your child.
"And I'll appear into your arms Like to a silken string;
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, 170Till ye see the fair mornin'.
"And I'll appear into your arms Like to a naked man;
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, And wi' you I'll gae hame."
175
Then she has done her to Miles-cross, Between twal hours an' ane;
And filled her hands o' holie water, And kiest her compass roun'.
The first ane court that came her till, 180Was published king and queen;
The niest ane court that came her till, Was maidens mony ane.
The niest ane court that came her till, Was footmen, grooms, and squires; 185
The niest ane court that came her till, Was knichts; and he was there!
True Tam-a-Line, on milk-white steed, A gowd star on his crown;
Because he was an earthly man,[Pg 265] 190Got that for a renown.
And out at the steed's right nostril, He breath'd a fiery flame;
She loots her low, an' sains hersel, And she was busy then.
195
She's taen the horse then by the head, And loot the bridle fa';
The Queen o' Elfin she cried out,— "True Tam-a-Line's awa'."
"Stay still, true Tam-a-Line," she says, 200"Till I pay you your fee;"
"His father wants not lands nor rents, He'll ask nae fee frae thee."
"Gin I had kent yestreen, yestreen, What I ken weel the day, 205
I shou'd hae taen your fu' fause heart, Gien you a heart o' clay."
Then he appeared into her arms Like the wolf that ne'er wad tame;
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 210Case they ne'er met again.
Then he appeared into her arms Like the fire burning bauld;
She held him fast, lat him not gae, He was as iron cauld.
215
And he appeared into her arms Like the adder an' the snake;
She held him fast, lat him not gae,[Pg 266]
He was her warld's maike.
And he appeared into her arms 220Like to the deer sae wild;
She held him fast, lat him not gae, He's father o' her child.
And he appeared into her arms Like to a silken string; 225
She held him fast, lat him not gae, Till she saw fair mornin'.
And he appeared into her arms Like to a naked man;
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 230And wi' her he's gane hame.
These news hae reach'd thro' a' Scotland,
And far ayont the Tay,
That ladye Margaret, our king's dochter, That nicht had gain'd her prey.
235
She borrowed her love at mirk midnicht, Bare her young son ere day;
And though ye'd search the warld wide,
Ye'll nae find sic a may.
This fragment was taken down from the recitation
of an old woman. Maidment's New Book of Old Ballads, p. 54.
O all you ladies young and gay, Who are so sweet and fair,
Do not go into Chaster's wood, For Tomlinn will be there.
* * * * *
5
Fair Margaret sat in her bonny bower, Sewing her silken seam,
And wished to be in Chaster's wood, Among the leaves so green.
She let the seam fall to her foot, 10The needle to her toe,
And she has gone to Chaster's wood, As fast as she could go.
When she began to pull the flowers;[Pg 268] She pull'd both red and green; 15
Then by did come, and by did go, Said, "Fair maid, let abene!
"O why pluck you the flowers, lady, Or why climb you the tree?
Or why come ye to Chaster's wood, 20Without the leave of me?"
"O I will pull the flowers," she said, "Or I will break the tree;
For Chaster's wood it is my own, I'll ask no leave at thee."
25
He took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve;
And laid her down upon the flowers, At her he ask'd no leave.
The lady blush'd and sourly frown'd, 30And she did think great shame;
Says, "If you are a gentleman, You will tell me your name."
"First they call me Jack," he said, "And then they call'd me John; 35
But since I liv'd in the Fairy court, Tomlinn has always been my name.
"So do not pluck that flower, lady, That has these pimples gray;
They would destroy the bonny babe 40That we've gotten in our play."
"O tell to me, Tomlinn," she said,[Pg 269] "And tell it to me soon;
Was you ever at a good church door, Or got you christendom?"
45
"O I have been at good church door, And oft her yetts within;
I was the Laird of Foulis's son, The heir of all his land.
"But it fell once upon a day, 50As hunting I did ride,
As I rode east and west yon hill, Then woe did me betide.
"O drowsy, drowsy as I was, Dead sleep upon me fell; 55
The Queen of Fairies she was there, And took me to hersel.
"The morn at even is Hallowe'en, Our Fairy court will ride,
Through England and through Scotland both, 60Through all the world wide;
And if that ye would me borrow, At Rides Cross ye may bide.
"You may go into the Miles Moss, Between twelve hours and one; 65
Take holy water in your hand, And cast a compass round.
"The first court that comes along, You'll let them all pass by;
The next court that comes along,[Pg 270] 70Salute them reverently.
"The next court that comes along, Is clad in robes of green;
And it's the head court of them all, For in it rides the Queen.
75
"And I upon a milk-white steed, With a gold star in my crown;
Because I am an earthly man, I'm next the Queen in renown.
"Then seize upon me with a spring, 80Then to the ground I'll fa';
And then you'll hear a rueful cry, That Tomlinn is awa'.
"Then I'll grow in your arms two, Like to a savage wild; 85
But hold me fast, let me not go, I'm father of your child.
"I'll grow into your arms two Like an adder, or a snake;
But hold me fast, let me not go, 90I'll be your earthly maik.
"I'll grow into your arms two Like ice on frozen lake;
But hold me fast, let me not go, Or from your goupen break.
95
"I'll grow into your arms two,[Pg 271] Like iron in strong fire;
But hold me fast, let me not go, Then you'll have your desire."
And its next night into Miles Moss, 100Fair Margaret has gone;
When lo she stands beside Rides Cross, Between twelve hours and one.
There's holy water in her hand, She casts a compass round; 105
And presently a Fairy band Comes riding o'er the mound.
This seems to be the most appropriate connection for a short fragment
from Maidment's North Countrie Garland, (p. 21.) It was taken down
from the recitation of a lady who had heard it sung in her childhood.
BURD ELLEN AND YOUNG TAMLANE.
Burd Ellen sits in the bower windowe, With a double laddy double, and for the double dow,
Twisting the red silk and the blue, With the double rose and the May-hay.
5
And whiles she twisted, and whiles she twan,[Pg 272] With a double, &c.
And whiles the tears fell down amang, With the double, &c.
10
Till once there by cam young Tamlane, With a double, &c.
"Come light, oh light, and rock your young son!" With the double, &c.
"If you winna rock him, you may let him rair, With a double, &c. 15
For I hae rockit my share and mair." With the double, &c.
Young Tamlane to the seas he's gane, With a double laddy double, and for the double dow,
And a' women's curse in his company's gane, 20With the double rose and the May-hay.
In the manuscript from which these verses are taken, they form the
preface to a long strain of incomprehensible prophecies of the same
description as those which are appended to Thomas of Ersyldoune.
Whether the two portions belong together, or not, (and it will be seen
that they are ill enough joined,) the first alone requires to be cited
here for the purpose of comparison with the Wee Wee Man. The whole
piece has been twice printed, first by Finlay, in his Scottish
Ballads, (ii. 163,) and afterwards, by a person who was not aware
that he had been anticipated, in the Retrospective Review, Second
Series, vol. ii. p. 326. Both texts are in places nearly
unintelligible, and are evidently full of errors, part of which we
must ascribe to the incompetency of the editors. Finlay's is here
adopted as on the whole the best, but it has received a few
corrections from the other, and one or two conjectural emendations.
Als y yod on ay Mounday Bytwene Wyltinden and Wall,
The ane after brade way, Ay litel man y mette with alle, 5
The leste yat ever y, sathe to say, Oither in bowr, oither in halle;
His robe was noither grene na gray, Bot alle yt was of riche palle.
[Pg 274]
On me he cald, and bad me bide; 10Well stille y stode ay litel space;
Fra Lanchestre the parke syde Yeen he come, wel fair his pase.
He hailsed me with mikel pride; Ic haved wel mykel ferly wat he was; 15
I saide,—"Wel mote the betyde, That litel man with large face."
I beheld that litel man Bi the strete als we gon gae;
His berd was syde ay large span, 20And glided als the fether of pae;
His heved was wyte als ony swan, His hegehen was gret and grai als so;
Brues lange, wel I the can Merk it to fize inches and mae.
25
Armes scort, for sothe I saye, Ay span seemed thaem to bee:
Handes brade vytouten nay, And fingeres lange, he scheued me.
Ay stane he tok op thar it lay, 30And castit forth that I moth see;
Ay merk-soot of large way Bifore me strides he castit three.
Wel stille I stod als did the stane, To loke him on thouth me nouth lang; 35
His robe was alle gold begane, Wel
craftelike maked, I understande; [Pg 275]
Botones asurd, everlk ane, Fra his elbouthe ontil his hande; Erdelik man was he nane; 40That in myn hert ich onderstande.
Til him I sayde ful sone on ane, For forthirmar I wald him fraine,
"Gladli wald I wit thi name, And I wist wat me mouthe gaine; 45
Thou ert so litel of fleshe and bane, And so mikel of mith and mayne,
War vones thou, litel man, at hame? Wit of thee I wald ful faine."
"Thoth I be litel and lith, 50Am y noth wytouten wane;
Ferli frained thou wat hi hith, That
thou salt noth wit my name;
My wonige stede ful wel es
dyght, Nou sone thou salt se at hame." 55
Til him I sayde, "For Godes mith, Let me forth myn erand gane."
"The thar noth of thin erand lette, Thouth thou come ay stonde wit me,
Forther salt thou noth bi sette, 60Bi miles twa noyther bi three."
Na linger durst I for him lette, But forth y funded wyt that free;
Stintid vs brok no beck; Ferlich me thouth hu so mouth bee.
65[Pg 276]
He vent forth, als y you say, In at ay yate, y vnderstande;
In til ay yate wvndouten nay; It to se thouth me
nouth lang.
The bankers on the binkes lay, 70And fair lordes sett y fonde;
In ilka ay hirn y herd ay lay, And leuedys soth meloude sange.
[Here there seems to be a break, and a new start
made, with a tale told not on a Monday, but on a
Wednesday.]
Lithe, bothe zonge and alde: Of ay worde y will you saye,
Ay litel tale that me was tald Erli on ay Wedenesdaye.
A mody barn, that was ful bald, My friend that y frained aye,
Al my gesing he me tald, And galid me als we went bi waye.
"Miri man, that es so wyth, Of ay thing gif me answere:
For him that mensked man wyt mith, Wat sal worth of this were?" &c.
"The following transcript is a literal copy from the original in the
Pepysian library, Cambridge." Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p.
i.
"A Proper New Ballad, entituled, The Wind hath blown my Plaid away,
or, A Discourse betwixt a young Maid and the Elphin-Knight; To be
sung with its own pleasant New Tune."
The Elphin Knight site on yon hill, Ba, ba, ba, lilli ba,
He blowes his horn both loud and shril, The wind hath blown my plaid awa.
5
He blowes it East, he blowes it West, Ba, ba, &c.
He blowes it where he lyketh best. The wind, &c.
"I wish that horn were in my kist, 10Ba, ba, &c.
Yea, and the knight in my armes two." The wind, &c.
She had no sooner these words said,[Pg 278] Ba, ba, &c. 15
When that the knight came to her bed. The wind, &c.
"Thou art over young a maid," quoth he, Ba, ba, &c.
"Married with me thou il wouldst be." 20The wind, &c.
"I have a sister younger than I, Ba, ba, &c.
And she was married yesterday." The wind, &c.
25
"Married with me if thou wouldst be, Ba, ba, &c.
A courtesie thou must do to me. The wind, &c.
"For thou must shape a sark to me, 30Ba, ba, &c.
Without any cut or heme," quoth he. The wind, &c.
"Thou must shape it needle- and sheerlesse, Ba, ba, &c. 35
And also sue it needle-threedlesse." The wind, &c.
"If that piece of courtesie I do to thee, Ba, ba, &c.
Another thou must do to me. 40The wind, &c.
[Pg 279]
"I have an aiker of good ley-land, Ba, ba, &c.
Which lyeth low by yon sea-strand. The wind, &c.
45
"For thou must cure it with thy horn, Ba, ba, &c.
So thou must sow it with thy corn. The wind, &c.
"And bigg a cart of stone and lyme, 50Ba, ba, &c.
Robin Redbreast he must trail it hame. The wind, &c.
"Thou must barn it in a mouse-holl, Ba, ba, &c. 55
And thrash it into thy shoes' soll. The wind, &c.
"And thou must winnow it in thy looff, Ba, ba, &c.
And also seck it in thy glove. 60The wind, &c.
"For thou must bring it over the sea, Ba, ba, &c.
And thou must bring it dry home to me. The wind, &c.
65
"When thou hast gotten thy turns well done, Ba, ba, &c.
Then come to me and get thy sark then. The wind, &c."
[Pg 280]
"I'l not quite my plaid for my life, 70Ba, ba, &c.
It haps my seven bairns and my wife. The wind shall not blow my plaid awa."
"My maidenhead I'l then keep still, Ba, ba, &c. 75
Let the Elphin Knight do what he will. The wind's not blown my plaid awa."
"My plaid awa, my plaid awa, And o'er the hill and far awa, And far awa, to Norrowa, My plaid shall not be blown awa."
"A song above 500 years old, made by the old mountain-bard, Duncan
Frasier, living on Cheviot, A.D. 1270."
This ballad, first published in Hutchinson's History of
Northumberland, was the composition of Mr. Robert Lambe, vicar of
Norham. Several stanzas are, however, adopted from some ancient tale.
It has been often printed, and is now taken from Ritson's
Northumberland Garland.
The similar story of The Worme of Lambton, versified by the Rev. J.
Watson (compare Ormekampen and the cognate legends, Grundtvig, i.
343, also vol. viii. p. 128, of this collection), may be seen in
Richardson's Borderer's Table-Book, viii. 129, or in Moore's
Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry, page 784. With the tale of
the Lambton Worm of Durham agrees in many particulars that of the
Worm of Linton in Roxburghshire. (See Scott's introduction to
Kempion, and Sir C. Sharpe's Bishopric Garland, p. 21.) It is
highly probable that the mere coincidence of sound with Linden-Worm
caused this last place to be selected as the scene of such a story.
The king is gone from Bambrough Castle, Long may the princess mourn;
Long may she stand on the castle wall, Looking for his return.
[Pg 282]5
She has knotted the keys upon a string, And with her she has them ta'en,
She has cast them o'er her left shoulder, And to the gate she is gane.
She tripped out, she tripped in, 10She tript into the yard;
But it was more for the king's sake, Than for the queen's regard.
It fell out on a day, the king Brought the queen with him home; 15
And all the lords in our country To welcome them did come.
"O welcome father!" the lady cries, "Unto your halls and bowers;
And so are you, my step-mother, 20For all that's here is yours."
A lord said, wondering while she spake,
[98] "This princess of the North
Surpasses all of female kind In beauty, and in worth."
25
The envious queen replied, "At least, You might have excepted me;
In a few hours, I will her bring Down to a low degree.
"I will her liken to a laidley worm, 30That warps about the stone,
And not till Childy Wynd comes back,[Pg 283] Shall she again be won."
The princess stood at the bower door Laughing, who could her blame? 35
But e'er the next day's sun went down, A long worm she became.
For seven miles east, and seven miles west, And seven miles north, and south,
No blade of grass or corn could grow, 40So venomous was her mouth.
The milk of seven stately cows (It was costly her to keep)
Was brought her daily, which she drank Before she went to sleep.
45
At this day may be seen the cave Which held her folded up,
And the stone trough, the very same Out of which she did sup.
Word went east, and word went west, 50And word is gone over the sea,
That a laidley worm in Spindleston-Heughs Would ruin the North Country.
Word went east, and word went west, And over the sea did go; 55
The Child of Wynd got wit of it, Which filled his heart with woe.
He called straight his merry men all,[Pg 284] They thirty were and three:
"I wish I were at Spindleston, 60This desperate worm to see.
"We have no time now here to waste, Hence quickly let us sail:
My only sister Margaret, Something, I fear, doth ail."
65
They built a ship without delay, With masts of the rown tree,
With flutring sails of silk so fine, And set her on the sea.
They went on board; the wind with speed, 70Blew them along the deep;
At length they spied an huge square tower On a rock high and steep.
The sea was smooth, the weather clear; When they approached nigher, 75
King Ida's castle they well knew, And the banks of Bambroughshire.
The queen look'd out at her bower window, To see what she could see;
There she espied a gallant ship 80Sailing upon the sea.
When she beheld the silken sails, Full glancing in the sun,
To sink the ship she sent away Her witch wives every one.
85
The spells were vain; the hags returned[Pg 285] To the queen in sorrowful mood,
Crying that witches have no power Where there is rown-tree wood.
Her last effort, she sent a boat, 90Which in the haven lay,
With armed men to board the ship, But they were driven away.
The worm lept out, the worm lept down, She plaited round the stone; 95
And ay as the ship came to the land She banged it off again.
The Child then ran out of her reach The ship on Budley-sand,
And jumping into the shallow sea, 100Securely got to land.
And now he drew his
berry-brown sword, And laid it on her head;
And swore, if she did harm to him, That he would strike her dead.
105
"O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow, And give me kisses three;
For though I am a poisonous worm, No hurt I'll do to thee.
"O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow, 110And give me kisses three;
If I'm not won e'er the sun go down, Won I shall never be."
He quitted his sword, and bent his bow,[Pg 286] He gave her kisses three; 115
She crept into a hole a worm, But out stept a lady.
No clothing had this lady fine, To keep her from the cold;
He took his mantle from him about, 120And round her did it fold.
He has taken his mantle from him about, And in it he wrapt her in,
And they are up to Bambrough castle, As fast as they can win.
125
His absence, and her serpent shape, The king had long deplored;
He now rejoyced to see them both Again to him restored.
The queen they wanted, whom they found 130All pale, and sore afraid,
Because she knew her power must yield To Childy Wynd's, who said,
"Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch; An ill death mayest thou dee; 135
As thou my sister hast lik'ned, So lik'ned shalt thou be.
"I will turn you into a toad, That on the ground doth wend;
And won, won shalt thou never be, 140Till this world hath an end."
[Pg 287]
Now on the sand near Ida's tower, She crawls a loathsome toad,
And venom spits on every maid She meets upon her road.
145
The virgins all of Bambrough town Will swear that they have seen
This spiteful toad, of monstrous size, Whilst walking they have been.
All folks believe within the shire 150This story to be true,
And they all run to Spindleston, The cave and trough to view.
This fact now Duncan Frasier, Of Cheviot, sings in rhime, 155
Lest Bambroughshire men should forget Some part of it in time.
v. 21-28. Compare Young Waters, (iii. 90,) v. 21-28,
and Young Beichan and Susie Pye, (iv. 7,) v. 118-124.
v. 31. Childy Wynd is obviously a corruption of Child Owain.
May Marg'ret stood in her bouer door, Kaiming doun her yellow hair;
She spied some nuts growin in the wud, And wish'd that she was there.
5
She has plaited her yellow locks A little abune her bree;
And she has kilted her petticoats A little below her knee;
And she's aff to Mulberry wud, 10As fast as she could gae.
She had na pu'd a nut, a nut, A nut but barely ane,
Till up started the Hynde Etin, Says, "Lady! let thae alane."
15
"Mulberry wuds are a' my ain; My father gied them me,
To sport and play when I thought lang; And they sall na be tane by thee."
And ae she pu'd the tither berrie,[Pg 295] 20Na thinking o' the skaith;
And said, "To wrang ye, Hynde Etin, I wad be unco laith."
But he has tane her by the yellow locks, And tied her till a tree, 25
And said, "For slichting my commands, An ill death shall ye dree."
He pu'd a tree out o' the wud, The biggest that was there;
And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep, 30And put May Marg'ret there.
"Now rest ye there, ye saucie may; My wuds are free for thee;
And gif I tak ye to mysell, The better ye'll like me."
35
Na rest, na rest May Marg'ret took, Sleep she got never nane;
Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor, Her head upon a stane.
"O tak me out," May Marg'ret cried, 40"O tak me hame to thee;
And I sall be your bounden page Until the day I dee."
He took her out o' the dungeon deep, And awa wi' him she's gane; 45
But sad was the day an earl's dochter Gaed hame wi' Hynde Etin.
This is a translation by Jamieson (Popular Ballads and Songs, i.
219), of the Danish Elveskud (Abrahamson, i. 237). Lewis has given a
version of the same in the Tales of Wonder, (No. 10.) The
corresponding Swedish ballad, The Elf-Woman and Sir Olof (Afzelius,
iii. 165) is translated by Keightley, Fairy Mythology, p. 84. This
ballad occurs also in Norse, Faroish, and Icelandic.
Of the same class are Elfer Hill, (from the Danish, Jamieson, i.
225; from the Swedish, Keightley, 86; through the German, Tales of
Wonder, No. 6:) Sir Olof in the Elve-Dance, (Keightley, 82;
Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, by William and Mary
Howitt, i. 269:) The Merman and Marstig's Daughter, (from the
Danish, Jamieson, i. 210; Tales of Wonder, No. 11:) the Breton tale
of Lord Nann and the Korrigan, (Keightley, 433:) three Slavic
ballads referred to by Grundtvig, (Elveskud, ii. 111:) Sir Peter of
Stauffenbergh and the Mermaid, (from the German, Jamieson,
Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, 257,) and the well-known
Fischer of Goethe.
[Pg 299]
Sir Oluf the hend has ridden sae wide,
All unto his bridal feast to bid.
And lightly the elves, sae feat and free,
They dance all under the greenwood tree!
5
And there danced four, and there danced five;
The Elf-King's daughter she reekit bilive.
Her hand to Sir Oluf sae fair and free:
"O welcome, Sir Oluf, come dance wi' me!
"O welcome, Sir Oluf! now lat thy love gae, 10
And tread wi' me in the dance sae gay."
"To dance wi' thee ne dare I, ne may;
The morn it is my bridal day."
"O come, Sir Oluf, and dance wi' me;
Twa buckskin boots I'll give to thee;
15
"Twa buckskin boots, that sit sae fair,
Wi' gilded spurs sae rich and rare.
"And hear ye, Sir Oluf! come dance wi' me;
And a silken sark I'll give to thee;
"A silken sark sae white and fine, 20
That my mother bleached in the moonshine."
"I darena, I maunna come dance wi' thee;[Pg 300]
For the morn my bridal day maun be."
"O hear ye, Sir Oluf! come dance wi' me,
And a helmet o' goud I'll give to thee."
25
"A helmet o' goud I well may ha'e;
But dance wi' thee ne dare I, ne may."
"And winna thou dance, Sir Oluf, wi' me?
Then sickness and pain shall follow thee!"
She's smitten Sir Oluf—it strak to his heart; 30
He never before had kent sic a smart;
Then lifted him up on his ambler red;
"And now, Sir Oluf, ride hame to thy bride."
And whan he came till the castell yett,
His mither she stood and leant thereat.
35
"O hear ye, Sir Oluf, my ain dear son,
Whareto is your lire sae blae and wan?"
"O well may my lire be wan and blae,
For I ha'e been in the elf-womens' play."
"O hear ye, Sir Oluf, my son, my pride, 40
And what shall I say to thy young bride?"
"Ye'll say, that I've ridden but into the wood,
To prieve gin my horse and hounds are good."
Ear on the morn, whan night was gane,[Pg 301]
The bride she cam wi' the bridal train.
45
They skinked the mead, and they skinked the wine:
"O whare is Sir Oluf, bridegroom mine?"
"Sir Oluf has ridden but into the wood,
To prieve gin his horse and hounds are good."
And she took up the scarlet red, 50
And there lay Sir Oluf, and he was dead!
Ear on the morn, whan it was day,
Three likes were ta'en frae the castle away;
Sir Oluf the leal, and his bride sae fair,
And his mither, that died wi' sorrow and care.
55
And lightly the elves sae feat and free,
They dance all under the greenwood tree!
We are indebted for the following recension of Constantine and Areté
to Mr. Sophocles of Harvard College. It is constructed from Fauriel's
text, combined with a copy in Zambelios's Ἄισματα Δημοτικά,
and with a version taken down from the recitation of a Cretan woman.
The translation is by the skilful hand of Professor Felton.
We may notice by the way that several versions of this piece are given
by Tommaseo, in his Canti Popolari Toscani, etc. iii. 341.
O mother, thou with thy nine sons, and with one only daughter,
Thine only daughter, well beloved, the dearest of thy children,
For twelve years thou didst keep the maid, the sun did not behold her,
Whom in the darkness thou didst bathe, in secret braid her tresses,
And by the starlight and the dawn, didst wind her curling ringlets,
Nor knew the neighborhood that thou didst have so fair a daughter,—
When came to thee from Babylon a woer's soft entreaty:
Eight of the brothers yielded not, but Constantine consented. "O mother give thine Arete, bestow her on the stranger,
That I may have her solace dear when far away I wander." "Though thou art wise, my Constantine, thou hast unwisely spoken:
Be woe my lot or be it joy, who will restore my daughter?" [Pg 308]He calls to witness God above, he calls the holy martyrs,
Be woe her lot, or be it joy, he would restore her daughter:
And when they wedded Arete, in that far distant country,
Then comes the year of sorrowing, and all the nine did perish.
All lonely was the mother left, like a reed alone in the meadow;
O'er the eight graves she beats her breast, o'er eight is heard her wailing,
And at the tomb of Constantine, she rends her hair in anguish. "Arise, my Constantine, arise, for Arete I languish:
On God to witness thou didst call, didst call the holy martyrs,
Be woe my lot or be it joy, thou wouldst restore my daughter." And forth at midnight hour he fares, the silent tomb deserting,
He makes the cloud his flying steed, he makes the star his bridle,
And by the silver moon convoyed, to bring her home he journeys:
And finds her combing down her locks, abroad by silvery moonlight,
And greets the maiden from afar, and from afar bespeaks her. "Arise, my Aretula dear, for thee our mother longeth."
"Alas! my brother, what is this? what wouldst at such an hour? [Pg 309]
If joy betide our distant home, I wear my golden raiment,
If woe betide, dear brother mine, I go as now I'm standing." "Think not of joy, think not of woe—return as here thou standest."
And while they journey on the way, all on the way returning,
They hear the Birds, and what they sing, and what the Birds are saying. "Ho! see the maiden all so fair, a Ghost it is that bears her."
"Didst hear the Birds, my Constantine, didst list to what they're saying?" "Yes: they are Birds, and let them sing, they're Birds, and let them chatter:"
And yonder, as they journey on, still other Birds salute them. "What do we see, unhappy ones, ah! woe is fallen on us;—
Lo! there the living sweep along, and with the dead they travel." "Didst hear, my brother Constantine, what yonder Birds are saying?"
"Yes! Birds are they, and let them sing, they're Birds, and let them chatter." "I fear for thee, my Brother dear, for thou dost breathe of incense."
"Last evening late we visited the church of Saint Johannes,
And there the priest perfumed me o'er with clouds of fragrant incense." And onward as they hold their way, still other Birds bespeak them: [Pg 310]
"O God, how wondrous is thy power, what miracles thou workest!
A maid so gracious and so fair, a Ghost it is that bears her:" 'Twas heard again by Arete, and now her heart was breaking;
"Didst hearken, brother Constantine, to what the Birds are saying?
Say where are now thy waving locks, thy strong thick beard, where is it?" "A sickness sore has me befallen, and brought me near to dying."
They find the house all locked and barred, they find it barred and bolted,
And all the windows of the house with cobwebs covered over.
"Unlock, O mother mine, unlock, thine Arete thou seest."
"If thou art Charon, get thee gone—I have no other children:
My hapless Arete afar, in stranger lands is dwelling." "Unlock, O mother mine, unlock, thy Constantine entreats thee.
I called to witness God above, I called the holy martyrs,
Were woe thy lot, or were it joy, I would restore thy daughter." And when unto the door she came, her soul from her departed.
A Mery Ballet of the Hathorne Tre, from a MS. in the Cotton Library,
Vespasian, A. xxv. The MS. has "G. Peele" appended to it, but in a
hand more modern than the ballad. Mr. Dyce, with very good reason,
"doubts" whether Peele is the author of the ballad, but has printed
it, Peele's Works, ii. 256. It is given also by Evans, i. 342, and
partly in Chappell's Popular Music, i. 64.
The true character of this piece would never be suspected by one
reading it in English. The same is true of the German, where the
ballad is very common, and much prettier than in English, e.g. Das
Mädchen und die Hasel, Das Mädchen und der Sagebaum, Erk's
Liederhort, No. 33, five copies; Hoffmann, Schlesische
Volkslieder, No. 100, three copies, etc. In Danish and Swedish we
find a circumstantial story: Jomfruen i Linden, Grundtvig, No. 66;
Linden, Svenska Folkvisor, No. 87. The tree is an enchanted damsel,
one of eleven children transformed by a step-mother into various less
troublesome things, and the spell can be removed only by a kiss from
the king's son. By the intervention of the maiden, this rite is
performed, and the beautiful linden is changed to as beautiful a young
woman, who of course becomes the [Pg 312]prince's bride. A Wendish ballad
resembling the German is given by Haupt and Schmaler, and ballads akin
to the Danish, are found in Slovensk and Lithuanian (see Grundtvig).
It was a maide of my countrè,
As she came by a hathorne-tre,
As full of flowers as might be seen,
'She' merveld to se the tree so grene.
5
At last she asked of this tre,
"Howe came this freshness unto the,
And every branche so faire and cleane?
I mervaile that you growe so grene."
The tre 'made' answere by and by: 10
"I have good causse to growe triumphantly;
The swetest dewe that ever be sene
Doth fall on me to kepe me grene."
"Yea," quoth the maid, "but where you growe,
You stande at hande for every blowe; 15
Of every man for to be seen;
I mervaile that you growe so grene."
"Though many one take flowers from me,
And manye a branche out of my tre,
I have suche store they wyll not be sene, 20
For more and more my
'twegges' growe grene."
"But howe and they chaunce to cut the downe,[Pg 313]
And carry thie braunches into the towne?
Then will they never no more be sene
To growe againe so freshe and grene."
25
"Though that you do, yt ys no boote;
Althoughe they cut me to the roote,
Next yere againe I will be sene
To bude my branches freshe and grene.
"And you, faire maide, canne not do so; 30
For yf you let youre maid-hode goe,
Then will yt never no more be sene,
As I with my braunches can growe grene."
The maide wyth that beganne to blushe,
And turned her from the hathorne-bushe; 35
She though[t]e herselffe so faire and clene,
Her bewtie styll would ever growe grene.
Whan that she harde this marvelous dowbte,
She wandered styll then all aboute,
Suspecting still what she would wene, 40
Her maid-heade lost would never be seen.
Wyth many a sighe, she went her waye,
To se howe she made herselff so gay,
To walke, to se, and to be sene,
And so out-faced the hathorne grene.
45
Besides all that, yt put her in feare[Pg 314]
To talke with companye anye where,
For feare to losse the thinge that shuld be sene
To growe as were the hathorne grene.
But after this never could I here 50
Of this faire mayden any where,
That ever she was in forest sene
To talke againe of the hathorne grene.
Ritson's Ancient Songs, i. 141, Sandys's Christmas Carols,
p. 4: from the Sloane MS., No. 2593 (temp. Hen. VI.)
This curious little ballad was sung as a carol for St. Stephen's Day.
Its counterpart is found in Danish (though not in an ancient form),
printed in Erik Pontoppidan's book on the relics of Heathenism and
Papistry in Denmark, 1736 (Jesusbarnet, Stefan, og Herodes
Grundtvig, No. 96). There is also a similar ballad in Faroish. Only a
slight trace of the story is now left in the Swedish Staffans Visa
(Svenska F.V., No. 99), which is sung as a carol on St. Stephen's
Day, as may very well have been the case with the Danish and Faroish
ballads too.
The miracle of the roasted cock occurs in many other legends. The
earliest mention of it is in Vincent of Beauvais's Speculum
Historiale, L. xxv. c. 64. It is commonly ascribed to St. James,
sometimes to the Virgin. (See the preface to the ballad in Grundtvig,
and to Southey's Pilgrim to Compostella.) We meet with it in another
English carol called The Carnal
[5] and the Crane, printed in
Sandys's collection, p. 152, from a broadside copy, corrupt and almost
unintelligible [Pg 316]in places. The stanzas which contain the miracle are
the following:
There was a star in the West land, So bright it did appear
Into King Herod's chamber, And where King Herod were.
The Wise Men soon espied it, And told the king on high,
A princely babe was born that night No king could e'er destroy.
"If this be true," King Herod said, "As thou tellest unto me,
This roasted cock that lies in the dish Shall crow full fences
[6] three."
The cock soon freshly feather'd was, By the work of God's own hand,
And then three fences crowed he, In the dish where he did stand.
"Rise up, rise up, you merry men all, See that you ready be;
All children under two years old Now slain they all shall be."
Hallowe'en, 120,
the eve of All-Saints' day, supposed to
[Pg 324]be peculiarly favorable for intercourse
with the invisible world, all fairies, witches, and ghosts being
then abroad.
reele bone, 99,
an unknown material, of which saddles, especially, are in the romances said to be made;
called variously, rewel-bone, (Cant. Tales, 13, 807,) rowel-bone,
reuylle-bone, and (Young Bekie, vol. iv. 12)
royal-bone.
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