The Textis given mainly from the CottonMS., Cleopatra C. iv. (circa1550). It was printed by Percy in the fourth edition of theReliques; in the first edition he gave it from HarleianMS.293, which text also is made use of here. A separate Scottish ballad was popular at least as early as 1549, and arguments to prove that it was derived from the English ballad are as inconclusive as those which seek to prove the opposite.
The Story.—The battle of Otterburn was fought on Wednesday, August 19, 1388. The whole story is given elaborately by Froissart, in his usual lively style, but is far too long to be inserted here. It may, however, be condensed as follows.
The great northern families of Neville and Percy being at variance owing to the quarrels of RichardII. with his uncles, the Scots took the advantage of preparing a raid into England. Earl Percy, hearing of this, collected the Northumbrian powers; and, unable to withstand the force of the Scots, determined to make a counter-raid on the east or west of the border, according as the Scots should cross. The latter, hearing of the plan through a spy, foiled it by dividing their army into two parts, the main body under Archibald Douglas being directed to Carlisle. Three or four hundred picked men-at-arms, with two thousand archers and others, under James, Earl of Douglas, Earl of March and Dunbar, andthe Earl of Murray, were to aim at Newcastle, and burn and ravage the bishopric of Durham. With the latter alone we are now concerned.
With his small army the Earl of Douglas passed rapidly through Northumberland, crossed the Tyne near Brancepeth, wasted the country as far as the gates of Durham, and returned to Newcastle as rapidly as they had advanced. Several skirmishes took place at the barriers of the town: and in one of these Sir Henry Percy (Hotspur) was personally opposed to Douglas. After an obstinate struggle the Earl won the pennon of the English leader, and boasted that he would carry it to Scotland, and set it high on his castle of Dalkeith. ‘That,’ cried Hotspur, ‘no Douglas shall ever do, and ere you leave Northumberland you shall have small cause to boast.’ ‘Your pennon,’ answered Douglas, ‘shall this night be placed before my tent; come and win it if you can.’ But the Scots were suffered to retreat without any hostile attempts on the part of the English, and accordingly, after destroying the tower of Ponteland, they came on the second day to the castle of Otterburn, situated in Redesdale, about thirty-two miles from Newcastle. The rest may be read in the ballad.
‘Of all the battayles,’ says Froissart, ‘that I have made mention of here before, in all thys hystorye, great or small, thys battayle was one of the sorest, and best foughten, without cowards or faint hertes: for ther was nother knyght nor squyre but that dyde hys devoyre, and fought hand to hand.’
1.1.3‘bowynd,’ hied.Ytfell abowght the Lamasse tyde,Whan husbondes Wynnes ther haye,The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to ryde,In Ynglond to take a praye.2.2.4‘raysse,’ raid.The yerlle of Fyffe, wythowghten stryffe,He bowynd hym over Sulway;The grete wolde ever to-gether ryde;That raysse they may rewe for aye.3.3. ‘Hoppertope,’ Ottercap (now Ottercaps) Hill, in the parish of Kirk Whelpington, Tynedale Ward, Northumberland. ‘Rodclyffe crage’ (now Rothby Crags), a cliff near Rodeley, south-east of Ottercap. ‘Grene Lynton,’ a corruption of Green Leyton, south-east of Rodely.—Percy.Over Hoppertope hyll they cam in,And so down by Rodclyffe crage;Vpon Grene Lynton they lyghted dowyn,Styrande many a stage.4.And boldely brente Northomberlond,And haryed many a towyn;They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange,To battell that were not bowyn.5.Than spake a berne vpon the bent,Of comforte that was not colde,And sayd, ‘We have brente Northomberlond,We have all welth in holde.5.1‘berne,’ man.6.‘Now we have haryed all Bamborowe schyre,All the welth in the world have wee;I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,So styll and stalworthlye.’7.Vpon the morowe, when it was day,The standerds schone full bryght;To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,And thether they cam full ryght.8.8.1Sir Henry Percy (Hotspur), killed at Shrewsbury fifteen years after Otterburn.8.3‘march-man,’ borderer. Percy is said to have been appointed Governor of Berwick and Warden of the Marches in 1385.Syr Henry Perssy laye at the New Castell,I tell yow wythowtten drede;He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,And kepte Barwyke upon Twede.9.To the Newe Castell when they cam,The Skottes they cryde on hyght,‘Syr Hary Perssy, and thow byste within,Com to the fylde, and fyght.10.‘For we have brente Northomberlonde,Thy erytage good and ryght,And syne my logeyng I have take,Wyth my brande dubbyd many a knyght.’11.Syr Harry Perssy cam to the walles,The Skottyssch oste for to se,And sayd, ‘And thow hast brente Northomberlond,Full sore it rewyth me.12.12.4‘The tone,’ one or other.‘Yf thou hast haryed all Bamborowe schyre,Thow hast done me grete envye;For the trespasse thow hast me done,The tone of vs schall dye.’13.‘Where schall I byde the?’ sayd the Dowglas,‘Or where wylte thow com to me?’‘At Otterborne, in the hygh way,Ther mast thow well logeed be.14.14.1‘I have harde say that Chivet Hills stretchetheXXmiles. Theare is greate plente of Redde Dere, and Roo Bukkes.’—Leland’s Itinerary.‘The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes,To make the game and glee;The fawken and the fesaunt both,Amonge the holtes on hye.15.15.3‘the tyll’ = thee till, to thee.‘Ther mast thow haue thy welth at wyll,Well looged ther mast be;Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll,’Sayd Syr Harry Perssye.16.‘Ther schall I byde the,’ sayd the Dowglas,‘By the fayth of my bodye’:‘Thether schall I com,’ sayd Syr Harry Perssy,‘My trowth I plyght to the.’17.A pype of wyne he gaue them over the walles,For soth as I yow saye;Ther he mayd the Dowglasse drynke,And all hys ost that daye.18.The Dowglas turnyd hym homewarde agayne,For soth withowghten naye;He toke his logeyng at Oterborne,Vpon a Wedynsday.19.19.1‘pyght,’ fixed.And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,Hys gettyng more and lesse,And syne he warned hys men to gooTo chose ther geldynges gresse.20.A Skottysshe knyght hoved vpon the bent,A wache I dare well saye;So was he ware on the noble PerssyIn the dawnyng of the daye.21.He prycked to hys pavyleon-dore,As faste as he myght ronne;‘Awaken, Dowglas,’ cryed the knyght,‘For hys love that syttes in trone.22.22.2‘wynne,’ pleasure.‘Awaken, Dowglas,’ cryed the knyght,‘For thow maste waken wyth wynne;Yender haue I spyed the prowde Perssye,And seven stondardes wyth hym.’23.‘Nay by my trowth,’ the Dowglas sayed,‘It ys but a fayned taylle;He durst not loke on my brede bannerFor all Ynglonde so haylle.24.24.4i.e.he could not give me my fill (of defeat).‘Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,That stondes so fayre on Tyne?For all the men the Perssy had,He coude not garre me ones to dyne.’25.25.2i.e.to see if it were false.He stepped owt at his pavelyon-dore,To loke and it were lesse:‘Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,For here begynnes no peysse.26.26.1‘eme,’ uncle.26.3‘cawte,’ wary.‘The yerle of Mentaye, thow arte my eme,The fowarde I gyve to the:The yerlle of Huntlay, cawte and kene,He schall be wyth the.27.‘The lorde of Bowghan, in armure bryght,On the other hand he schall be;Lord Jhonstoune and Lorde Maxwell,They to schall be with me.28.‘Swynton, fayre fylde vpon your pryde!To batell make yow bowenSyr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,Syr Jhon of Agurstone!’29.29.4‘hyght,’ promised.The Perssy cam byfore hys oste,Wych was ever a gentyll knyght;Vpon the Dowglas lowde can he crye,‘I wyll holde that I haue hyght.30.‘For thou haste brente Northomberlonde,And done me grete envye;For thys trespasse thou hast me done,The tone of vs schall dye.’31.The Dowglas answerde hym agayne,Wyth grett wurdes vpon hye,And sayd, ‘I have twenty agaynst thy one,Byholde, and thou maste see.’32.32.4‘schoote,’ dismissed.Wyth that the Perssy was grevyd sore,For soth as I yow saye:He lyghted dowyn vpon his foote,And schoote hys horsse clene awaye.33.33.2i.e.who was ever royal among the rout.Every man sawe that he dyd soo,That ryall was ever in rowght;Every man schoote hys horsse hym froo,And lyght hym rowynde abowght.34.Thus Syr Hary Perssye toke the fylde,For soth as I yow saye;Jhesu Cryste in hevyn on hyghtDyd helpe hym well that daye.35.35.2‘layne,’ lie; so 40.2But nyne thowzand, ther was no moo,The cronykle wyll not layne;Forty thowsande of Skottes and fowreThat day fowght them agayne.36.But when the batell byganne to joyne,In hast ther cam a knyght;The letters fayre furth hath he tayne,And thus he sayd full ryght:37.‘My lorde your father he gretes yow well,Wyth many a noble knyght;He desyres yow to bydeThat he may see thys fyght.38.‘The Baron of Grastoke ys com out of the west,With hym a noble companye;All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,And the batell fayne wolde they see.’39.‘For Jhesus love,’ sayd Syr Harye Perssy,‘That dyed for yow and me,Wende to my lorde my father agayne,And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.40.‘My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,It nedes me not to layne,That I schalde byde hym upon thys bent,And I have hys trowth agayne.41.41.1i.e.if I wend off this ground.‘And if that I weynde of thys growende,For soth, onfowghten awaye,He wolde me call but a kowarde knyghtIn hys londe another daye.42.42.1i.e.I had rather be flayed.‘Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,By Mary, that mykkel maye,Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovydWyth a Skotte another daye.43.43.3‘waryson,’ reward.‘Wherefore schote, archars, for my sake,And let scharpe arowes flee:Mynstrell, playe up for your waryson,And well quyt it schall bee.44.44.2‘marke hym,’ commit himself (by signing the cross).‘Every man thynke on hys trewe-love,And marke hym to the Trenite;For to God I make myne avoweThys day wyll I not flee.’45.The blodye harte in the Dowglas armes,Hys standerde stood on hye,That every man myght full well knowe;By syde stode starrës thre.46.The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,For soth as I yow sayne,The lucettes and the cressawntes both;The Skottes faught them agayne.47.Vpon Sent Androwe lowde can they crye,And thrysse they schowte on hyght,And syne merked them one owr Ynglysshe men,As I haue tolde yow ryght.48.Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght,To name they were full fayne:Owr Ynglyssh men they cryde on hyght,And thrysse the schowtte agayne.49.Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to flee,I tell yow in sertayne;Men of armes byganne to joyne,Many a dowghty man was ther slayne.50.50.4‘collayne,’ of Cologne steel. Cp. ‘myllan,’Hunting of the Cheviot, 31.4The Perssy and the Dowglas mette,That ether of other was fayne;They swapped together whyll that the swette,Wyth swordes of fyne collayne:51.51.2‘roke,’ reek, vapour.Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnettes ranne,As the roke doth in the rayne;‘Yelde the to me,’ sayd the Dowglas,‘Or elles thow schalt be slayne.52.‘For I see by thy bryght bassonet,Thow arte sum man of myght;And so I do by thy burnysshed brande;Thow arte an yerle, or elles a knyght.’53.‘By my good faythe,’ sayd the noble Perssye,‘Now haste thou rede full ryght;Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,Whyll I may stonde and fyght.’54.They swapped together whyll that they swette,Wyth swordës scharpe and long;Ych on other so faste thee beette,Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.55.55.2‘stounde,’ moment of time, hour.The Perssy was a man of strenghth,I tell yow, in thys stounde;He smote the Dowglas at the swordes lengthThat he fell to the growynde.56.The sworde was scharpe, and sore can byte,I tell yow in sertayne;To the harte he cowde hym smyte,Thus was the Dowglas slayne.57.The stonderdes stode styll on eke a syde,Wyth many a grevous grone;Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght,And many a dowghty man was slayne.58.58.3‘drye’ = dree, endure.Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,But styffely in stowre can stond,Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.59.Ther was slayne vpon the Skottës syde,For soth and sertenly,Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,That day that he cowde dye.60.60.2‘grysely,’ frightfully, grievously.The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne,Grysely groned upon the growynd;Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,Syr Jhon of Agurstoune.61.Syr Charllës Morrey in that place,That never a fote wold flee;Syr Hewe Maxwell, a lord he was,Wyth the Dowglas dyd he dye.62.Ther was slayne upon the Skottës syde,For soth as I yow saye,Of fowre and forty thowsande ScottesWent but eyghtene awaye.63.Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,For soth and sertenlye,A gentell knyght, Syr Jhon Fechewe,Yt was the more pety.64.Syr James Hardbotell ther was slayne,For hym ther hartes were sore;The gentyll Lovell ther was slayne,That the Perssys standerd bore.65.Ther was slayne upon the Ynglyssh perte,For soth as I yow saye,Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh menFyve hondert cam awaye.66.The other were slayne in the fylde;Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo!Seyng ther was so fewe fryndesAgaynst so many a foo.67.67.4‘makes,’ mates.Then on the morne they mayde them beerysOf byrch and haysell graye;Many a wydowe, wyth wepyng teyres,Ther makes they fette awaye.68.Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne,Bytwene the nyght and the day;Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe,And the Perssy was lede awaye.69.69.4‘borowed,’ ransomed, set free.Then was ther a Scottysh prisoner tayne,Syr Hewe Mongomery was hys name;For soth as I yow saye,He borowed the Perssy home agayne.70.Now let us all for the Perssy prayeTo Jhesu most of myght,To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven,For he was a gentyll knyght.
1.
1.3‘bowynd,’ hied.
Ytfell abowght the Lamasse tyde,
Whan husbondes Wynnes ther haye,
The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to ryde,
In Ynglond to take a praye.
2.
2.4‘raysse,’ raid.
The yerlle of Fyffe, wythowghten stryffe,
He bowynd hym over Sulway;
The grete wolde ever to-gether ryde;
That raysse they may rewe for aye.
3.
3. ‘Hoppertope,’ Ottercap (now Ottercaps) Hill, in the parish of Kirk Whelpington, Tynedale Ward, Northumberland. ‘Rodclyffe crage’ (now Rothby Crags), a cliff near Rodeley, south-east of Ottercap. ‘Grene Lynton,’ a corruption of Green Leyton, south-east of Rodely.—Percy.
Over Hoppertope hyll they cam in,
And so down by Rodclyffe crage;
Vpon Grene Lynton they lyghted dowyn,
Styrande many a stage.
4.
And boldely brente Northomberlond,
And haryed many a towyn;
They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange,
To battell that were not bowyn.
5.
Than spake a berne vpon the bent,
Of comforte that was not colde,
And sayd, ‘We have brente Northomberlond,
We have all welth in holde.
5.1‘berne,’ man.
6.
‘Now we have haryed all Bamborowe schyre,
All the welth in the world have wee;
I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,
So styll and stalworthlye.’
7.
Vpon the morowe, when it was day,
The standerds schone full bryght;
To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,
And thether they cam full ryght.
8.
8.1Sir Henry Percy (Hotspur), killed at Shrewsbury fifteen years after Otterburn.
8.3‘march-man,’ borderer. Percy is said to have been appointed Governor of Berwick and Warden of the Marches in 1385.
Syr Henry Perssy laye at the New Castell,
I tell yow wythowtten drede;
He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,
And kepte Barwyke upon Twede.
9.
To the Newe Castell when they cam,
The Skottes they cryde on hyght,
‘Syr Hary Perssy, and thow byste within,
Com to the fylde, and fyght.
10.
‘For we have brente Northomberlonde,
Thy erytage good and ryght,
And syne my logeyng I have take,
Wyth my brande dubbyd many a knyght.’
11.
Syr Harry Perssy cam to the walles,
The Skottyssch oste for to se,
And sayd, ‘And thow hast brente Northomberlond,
Full sore it rewyth me.
12.
12.4‘The tone,’ one or other.
‘Yf thou hast haryed all Bamborowe schyre,
Thow hast done me grete envye;
For the trespasse thow hast me done,
The tone of vs schall dye.’
13.
‘Where schall I byde the?’ sayd the Dowglas,
‘Or where wylte thow com to me?’
‘At Otterborne, in the hygh way,
Ther mast thow well logeed be.
14.
14.1‘I have harde say that Chivet Hills stretchetheXXmiles. Theare is greate plente of Redde Dere, and Roo Bukkes.’—Leland’s Itinerary.
‘The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes,
To make the game and glee;
The fawken and the fesaunt both,
Amonge the holtes on hye.
15.
15.3‘the tyll’ = thee till, to thee.
‘Ther mast thow haue thy welth at wyll,
Well looged ther mast be;
Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll,’
Sayd Syr Harry Perssye.
16.
‘Ther schall I byde the,’ sayd the Dowglas,
‘By the fayth of my bodye’:
‘Thether schall I com,’ sayd Syr Harry Perssy,
‘My trowth I plyght to the.’
17.
A pype of wyne he gaue them over the walles,
For soth as I yow saye;
Ther he mayd the Dowglasse drynke,
And all hys ost that daye.
18.
The Dowglas turnyd hym homewarde agayne,
For soth withowghten naye;
He toke his logeyng at Oterborne,
Vpon a Wedynsday.
19.
19.1‘pyght,’ fixed.
And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,
Hys gettyng more and lesse,
And syne he warned hys men to goo
To chose ther geldynges gresse.
20.
A Skottysshe knyght hoved vpon the bent,
A wache I dare well saye;
So was he ware on the noble Perssy
In the dawnyng of the daye.
21.
He prycked to hys pavyleon-dore,
As faste as he myght ronne;
‘Awaken, Dowglas,’ cryed the knyght,
‘For hys love that syttes in trone.
22.
22.2‘wynne,’ pleasure.
‘Awaken, Dowglas,’ cryed the knyght,
‘For thow maste waken wyth wynne;
Yender haue I spyed the prowde Perssye,
And seven stondardes wyth hym.’
23.
‘Nay by my trowth,’ the Dowglas sayed,
‘It ys but a fayned taylle;
He durst not loke on my brede banner
For all Ynglonde so haylle.
24.
24.4i.e.he could not give me my fill (of defeat).
‘Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,
That stondes so fayre on Tyne?
For all the men the Perssy had,
He coude not garre me ones to dyne.’
25.
25.2i.e.to see if it were false.
He stepped owt at his pavelyon-dore,
To loke and it were lesse:
‘Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,
For here begynnes no peysse.
26.
26.1‘eme,’ uncle.
26.3‘cawte,’ wary.
‘The yerle of Mentaye, thow arte my eme,
The fowarde I gyve to the:
The yerlle of Huntlay, cawte and kene,
He schall be wyth the.
27.
‘The lorde of Bowghan, in armure bryght,
On the other hand he schall be;
Lord Jhonstoune and Lorde Maxwell,
They to schall be with me.
28.
‘Swynton, fayre fylde vpon your pryde!
To batell make yow bowen
Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstone!’
29.
29.4‘hyght,’ promised.
The Perssy cam byfore hys oste,
Wych was ever a gentyll knyght;
Vpon the Dowglas lowde can he crye,
‘I wyll holde that I haue hyght.
30.
‘For thou haste brente Northomberlonde,
And done me grete envye;
For thys trespasse thou hast me done,
The tone of vs schall dye.’
31.
The Dowglas answerde hym agayne,
Wyth grett wurdes vpon hye,
And sayd, ‘I have twenty agaynst thy one,
Byholde, and thou maste see.’
32.
32.4‘schoote,’ dismissed.
Wyth that the Perssy was grevyd sore,
For soth as I yow saye:
He lyghted dowyn vpon his foote,
And schoote hys horsse clene awaye.
33.
33.2i.e.who was ever royal among the rout.
Every man sawe that he dyd soo,
That ryall was ever in rowght;
Every man schoote hys horsse hym froo,
And lyght hym rowynde abowght.
34.
Thus Syr Hary Perssye toke the fylde,
For soth as I yow saye;
Jhesu Cryste in hevyn on hyght
Dyd helpe hym well that daye.
35.
35.2‘layne,’ lie; so 40.2
But nyne thowzand, ther was no moo,
The cronykle wyll not layne;
Forty thowsande of Skottes and fowre
That day fowght them agayne.
36.
But when the batell byganne to joyne,
In hast ther cam a knyght;
The letters fayre furth hath he tayne,
And thus he sayd full ryght:
37.
‘My lorde your father he gretes yow well,
Wyth many a noble knyght;
He desyres yow to byde
That he may see thys fyght.
38.
‘The Baron of Grastoke ys com out of the west,
With hym a noble companye;
All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,
And the batell fayne wolde they see.’
39.
‘For Jhesus love,’ sayd Syr Harye Perssy,
‘That dyed for yow and me,
Wende to my lorde my father agayne,
And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.
40.
‘My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,
It nedes me not to layne,
That I schalde byde hym upon thys bent,
And I have hys trowth agayne.
41.
41.1i.e.if I wend off this ground.
‘And if that I weynde of thys growende,
For soth, onfowghten awaye,
He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght
In hys londe another daye.
42.
42.1i.e.I had rather be flayed.
‘Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,
By Mary, that mykkel maye,
Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovyd
Wyth a Skotte another daye.
43.
43.3‘waryson,’ reward.
‘Wherefore schote, archars, for my sake,
And let scharpe arowes flee:
Mynstrell, playe up for your waryson,
And well quyt it schall bee.
44.
44.2‘marke hym,’ commit himself (by signing the cross).
‘Every man thynke on hys trewe-love,
And marke hym to the Trenite;
For to God I make myne avowe
Thys day wyll I not flee.’
45.
The blodye harte in the Dowglas armes,
Hys standerde stood on hye,
That every man myght full well knowe;
By syde stode starrës thre.
46.
The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,
For soth as I yow sayne,
The lucettes and the cressawntes both;
The Skottes faught them agayne.
47.
Vpon Sent Androwe lowde can they crye,
And thrysse they schowte on hyght,
And syne merked them one owr Ynglysshe men,
As I haue tolde yow ryght.
48.
Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght,
To name they were full fayne:
Owr Ynglyssh men they cryde on hyght,
And thrysse the schowtte agayne.
49.
Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to flee,
I tell yow in sertayne;
Men of armes byganne to joyne,
Many a dowghty man was ther slayne.
50.
50.4‘collayne,’ of Cologne steel. Cp. ‘myllan,’Hunting of the Cheviot, 31.4
The Perssy and the Dowglas mette,
That ether of other was fayne;
They swapped together whyll that the swette,
Wyth swordes of fyne collayne:
51.
51.2‘roke,’ reek, vapour.
Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnettes ranne,
As the roke doth in the rayne;
‘Yelde the to me,’ sayd the Dowglas,
‘Or elles thow schalt be slayne.
52.
‘For I see by thy bryght bassonet,
Thow arte sum man of myght;
And so I do by thy burnysshed brande;
Thow arte an yerle, or elles a knyght.’
53.
‘By my good faythe,’ sayd the noble Perssye,
‘Now haste thou rede full ryght;
Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,
Whyll I may stonde and fyght.’
54.
They swapped together whyll that they swette,
Wyth swordës scharpe and long;
Ych on other so faste thee beette,
Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.
55.
55.2‘stounde,’ moment of time, hour.
The Perssy was a man of strenghth,
I tell yow, in thys stounde;
He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length
That he fell to the growynde.
56.
The sworde was scharpe, and sore can byte,
I tell yow in sertayne;
To the harte he cowde hym smyte,
Thus was the Dowglas slayne.
57.
The stonderdes stode styll on eke a syde,
Wyth many a grevous grone;
Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght,
And many a dowghty man was slayne.
58.
58.3‘drye’ = dree, endure.
Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,
But styffely in stowre can stond,
Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,
Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.
59.
Ther was slayne vpon the Skottës syde,
For soth and sertenly,
Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,
That day that he cowde dye.
60.
60.2‘grysely,’ frightfully, grievously.
The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne,
Grysely groned upon the growynd;
Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstoune.
61.
Syr Charllës Morrey in that place,
That never a fote wold flee;
Syr Hewe Maxwell, a lord he was,
Wyth the Dowglas dyd he dye.
62.
Ther was slayne upon the Skottës syde,
For soth as I yow saye,
Of fowre and forty thowsande Scottes
Went but eyghtene awaye.
63.
Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,
For soth and sertenlye,
A gentell knyght, Syr Jhon Fechewe,
Yt was the more pety.
64.
Syr James Hardbotell ther was slayne,
For hym ther hartes were sore;
The gentyll Lovell ther was slayne,
That the Perssys standerd bore.
65.
Ther was slayne upon the Ynglyssh perte,
For soth as I yow saye,
Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh men
Fyve hondert cam awaye.
66.
The other were slayne in the fylde;
Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo!
Seyng ther was so fewe fryndes
Agaynst so many a foo.
67.
67.4‘makes,’ mates.
Then on the morne they mayde them beerys
Of byrch and haysell graye;
Many a wydowe, wyth wepyng teyres,
Ther makes they fette awaye.
68.
Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne,
Bytwene the nyght and the day;
Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe,
And the Perssy was lede awaye.
69.
69.4‘borowed,’ ransomed, set free.
Then was ther a Scottysh prisoner tayne,
Syr Hewe Mongomery was hys name;
For soth as I yow saye,
He borowed the Perssy home agayne.
70.
Now let us all for the Perssy praye
To Jhesu most of myght,
To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven,
For he was a gentyll knyght.
The Textis taken fromWit Restor’d, 1658, where it is calledA Northern Ballet. From the same collection comes the version ofLittle Musgrave and Lady Barnardgiven in First Series, p. 19. The version popularly known asJohnny Armstrong’s Last Good-Night, so dear to Goldsmith, and sung by the Vicar of Wakefield, is a broadside found in most of the well-known collections.
The Storyof the ballad has the authority of more than one chronicle, and is attributed to the year 1530. JamesV., in spite of the promise ‘to doe no wrong’ in his large and long letter, appears to have been incensed at the splendour of ‘Jonnë’s’ retinue. It seems curious that the outlaw should have been a Westmoreland man; but theCronicles of Scotlandsay that ‘from the Scots border to Newcastle of England, there was not one, of whatsoever estate, but paid to this John Armstrong a tribute, to be free of his cumber, he was so doubtit in England.’ Jonnë’s offer in the stanza 16.3,4, may be compared to the similar feat of Sir Andrew Barton.
1.Theredwelt a man in faire Westmerland,Jonnë Armestrong men did him call,He had nither lands nor rents coming in,Yet he kept eight score men in his hall.2.He had horse and harness for them all,Goodly steeds were all milke-white;O the golden bands an about their necks,And their weapons, they were all alike.3.Newes then was brought unto the kingThat there was sicke a won as hee,That livëd lyke a bold out-law,And robbëd all the north country.4.The king he writt an a letter then,A letter which was large and long;He signëd it with his owne hand,And he promised to doe him no wrong.5.When this letter came Jonnë untill,His heart it was as blyth as birds on the tree:‘Never was I sent for before any king,My father, my grandfather, nor none but mee.6.‘And if wee goe the king before,I would we went most orderly;Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak,Laced with silver laces three.7.‘Every won of you shall have his velvett coat,Laced with sillver lace so white;O the golden bands an about your necks,Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke.’8.By the morrow morninge at ten of the clock,Towards Edenburough gon was hee,And with him all his eight score men;Good lord, it was a goodly sight for to see!9.When Jonnë came befower the king,He fell downe on his knee;‘O pardon, my soveraine leige,’ he said,‘O pardon my eight score men and mee.’10.‘Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong,For thy eight score men nor thee;For to-morrow morning by ten of the clock,Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow-tree.’11.But Jonnë looked over his left shoulder,Good Lord, what a grevious look looked hee!Saying, ‘Asking grace of a graceles face—Why there is none for you nor me.’12.But Jonnë had a bright sword by his side,And it was made of the mettle so free,That had not the king stept his foot aside,He had smitten his head from his faire boddë.13.Saying, ‘Fight on, my merry men all,And see that none of you be taine;For rather than men shall say we were hange’d,Let them report how we were slaine.’14.Then, God wott, faire Eddenburrough rose,And so besett poore Jonnë rounde,That fowerscore and tenn of Jonnë’s best menLay gasping all upon the ground.15.Then like a mad man Jonnë laide about,And like a mad man then fought hee,Untill a falce Scot came Jonnë behinde,And runn him through the faire boddee.16.Saying, ‘Fight on, my merry men all,And see that none of you be taine;For I will stand by and bleed but awhile,And then will I come and fight againe.’17.Newes then was brought to young Jonnë ArmestrongAs he stood by his nurse’s knee,Who vowed if ere he live’d for to be a man,O’ the treacherous Scots reveng’d hee’d be.
1.
Theredwelt a man in faire Westmerland,
Jonnë Armestrong men did him call,
He had nither lands nor rents coming in,
Yet he kept eight score men in his hall.
2.
He had horse and harness for them all,
Goodly steeds were all milke-white;
O the golden bands an about their necks,
And their weapons, they were all alike.
3.
Newes then was brought unto the king
That there was sicke a won as hee,
That livëd lyke a bold out-law,
And robbëd all the north country.
4.
The king he writt an a letter then,
A letter which was large and long;
He signëd it with his owne hand,
And he promised to doe him no wrong.
5.
When this letter came Jonnë untill,
His heart it was as blyth as birds on the tree:
‘Never was I sent for before any king,
My father, my grandfather, nor none but mee.
6.
‘And if wee goe the king before,
I would we went most orderly;
Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak,
Laced with silver laces three.
7.
‘Every won of you shall have his velvett coat,
Laced with sillver lace so white;
O the golden bands an about your necks,
Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke.’
8.
By the morrow morninge at ten of the clock,
Towards Edenburough gon was hee,
And with him all his eight score men;
Good lord, it was a goodly sight for to see!
9.
When Jonnë came befower the king,
He fell downe on his knee;
‘O pardon, my soveraine leige,’ he said,
‘O pardon my eight score men and mee.’
10.
‘Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong,
For thy eight score men nor thee;
For to-morrow morning by ten of the clock,
Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow-tree.’
11.
But Jonnë looked over his left shoulder,
Good Lord, what a grevious look looked hee!
Saying, ‘Asking grace of a graceles face—
Why there is none for you nor me.’
12.
But Jonnë had a bright sword by his side,
And it was made of the mettle so free,
That had not the king stept his foot aside,
He had smitten his head from his faire boddë.
13.
Saying, ‘Fight on, my merry men all,
And see that none of you be taine;
For rather than men shall say we were hange’d,
Let them report how we were slaine.’
14.
Then, God wott, faire Eddenburrough rose,
And so besett poore Jonnë rounde,
That fowerscore and tenn of Jonnë’s best men
Lay gasping all upon the ground.
15.
Then like a mad man Jonnë laide about,
And like a mad man then fought hee,
Untill a falce Scot came Jonnë behinde,
And runn him through the faire boddee.
16.
Saying, ‘Fight on, my merry men all,
And see that none of you be taine;
For I will stand by and bleed but awhile,
And then will I come and fight againe.’
17.
Newes then was brought to young Jonnë Armestrong
As he stood by his nurse’s knee,
Who vowed if ere he live’d for to be a man,
O’ the treacherous Scots reveng’d hee’d be.
The Textwas communicated to Percy by Dr. Robertson of Edinburgh, but it did not appear in theReliques.
In 9.1, ‘Then’ is doubtless an interpolation, as are the words ‘Now Douglas’ in 11.1But on the whole it is the best text of the fifteen or twenty variants.
The Story.—James Hogg and Sir Walter Scott referred the ballad to two different sources, the former legendary, and the latter historical. It has always been very popular in Scotland, and besides the variants there are in existence several imitations, such as the well-known poem of William Hamilton, ‘Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride.’ This was printed in vol. ii. of Percy’sReliques.
About half the known variants make the hero and heroine man and wife, the other half presenting them as unmarried lovers.
1.‘Idreamed a dreary dream this night,That fills my heart wi’ sorrow;I dreamed I was pouing the heather greenUpon the braes of Yarrow.2.‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,As ye ha’ done before, O;’‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,And frae the braes of Yarrow.’3.‘I dreamed a dreary dream this night,That fills my heart wi’ sorrow;I dreamed my luve came headless hame,O frae the braes of Yarrow!4.‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine.As ye ha’ done before, O;’‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,And frae the braes of Yarrow.’5.‘O are ye going to hawke,’ she says,‘As ye ha’ done before, O?Or are ye going to wield your brand,Upon the braes of Yarrow?’6.‘O I am not going to hawke,’ he says,‘As I have done before, O,But for to meet your brother John,Upon the braes of Yarrow.’7.7.1‘dowy,’ dreary.7.3‘well-wight,’ brave, sturdy.As he gaed down yon dowy den,Sorrow went him before, O;Nine well-wight men lay waiting him,Upon the braes of Yarrow.8.‘I have your sister to my wife,Ye think me an unmeet marrow!But yet one foot will I never fleeNow frae the braes of Yarrow.’9.Then four he kill’d and five did wound,That was an unmeet marrow!And he had weel nigh wan the dayUpon the braes of Yarrow.10.But a cowardly loon came him behind,Our Lady lend him sorrow!And wi’ a rappier pierced his heart,And laid him low on Yarrow.11.Now Douglas to his sister’s gane,Wi’ meikle dule and sorrow:‘Gae to your luve, sister,’ he says,‘He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’12.As she went down yon dowy den,Sorrow went her before, O;She saw her true-love lying slainUpon the braes of Yarrow.13.13. Apparently Percy’s invention.She swoon’d thrice upon his breistThat was her dearest marrow;Said, ‘Ever alace, and wae the dayThou went’st frae me to Yarrow!’14.14.3‘wiped’: Child suggests the original word was ‘drank.’She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair,As she had done before, O;She wiped the blood that trickled dounUpon the braes of Yarrow.15.15.2‘side,’ long.15.3‘hause-bane,’ neck.Her hair it was three quarters lang,It hang baith side and yellow;She tied it round her white hause-bane,And tint her life on Yarrow.
1.
‘Idreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi’ sorrow;
I dreamed I was pouing the heather green
Upon the braes of Yarrow.
2.
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,
As ye ha’ done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,
And frae the braes of Yarrow.’
3.
‘I dreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi’ sorrow;
I dreamed my luve came headless hame,
O frae the braes of Yarrow!
4.
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine.
As ye ha’ done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,
And frae the braes of Yarrow.’
5.
‘O are ye going to hawke,’ she says,
‘As ye ha’ done before, O?
Or are ye going to wield your brand,
Upon the braes of Yarrow?’
6.
‘O I am not going to hawke,’ he says,
‘As I have done before, O,
But for to meet your brother John,
Upon the braes of Yarrow.’
7.
7.1‘dowy,’ dreary.
7.3‘well-wight,’ brave, sturdy.
As he gaed down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went him before, O;
Nine well-wight men lay waiting him,
Upon the braes of Yarrow.
8.
‘I have your sister to my wife,
Ye think me an unmeet marrow!
But yet one foot will I never flee
Now frae the braes of Yarrow.’
9.
Then four he kill’d and five did wound,
That was an unmeet marrow!
And he had weel nigh wan the day
Upon the braes of Yarrow.
10.
But a cowardly loon came him behind,
Our Lady lend him sorrow!
And wi’ a rappier pierced his heart,
And laid him low on Yarrow.
11.
Now Douglas to his sister’s gane,
Wi’ meikle dule and sorrow:
‘Gae to your luve, sister,’ he says,
‘He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’
12.
As she went down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went her before, O;
She saw her true-love lying slain
Upon the braes of Yarrow.
13.
13. Apparently Percy’s invention.
She swoon’d thrice upon his breist
That was her dearest marrow;
Said, ‘Ever alace, and wae the day
Thou went’st frae me to Yarrow!’
14.
14.3‘wiped’: Child suggests the original word was ‘drank.’
She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She wiped the blood that trickled doun
Upon the braes of Yarrow.
15.
15.2‘side,’ long.
15.3‘hause-bane,’ neck.
Her hair it was three quarters lang,
It hang baith side and yellow;
She tied it round her white hause-bane,
And tint her life on Yarrow.
The Textis from Sharpe’sBallad Book(1823). Scott included no version of this ballad in hisMinstrelsy; but Motherwell and Jamieson both had traditional versions. Motherwell considered it essential that the deadly wound should be accidental; but it is far more typical of a ballad-hero that he should lose his temper and kill his brother; and, as Child points out, it adds to the pathetic generosity of the slain brother in providing excuses for his absence to be made to his father, mother, and sister.
The Story.—Motherwell and Sharpe were more or less convinced that the ballad was founded on an accident that happened in 1589 to a Somerville, who was killed by his brother’s pistol going off.
This ballad is still in circulation in the form of a game amongst American children—the last state of more than one old ballad otherwise extinct.
1.1.4‘warsle,’ wrestle.Therewere twa brethren in the north,They went to the school thegither;The one unto the other said,‘Will you try a warsle afore?’2.They warsled up, they warsled down,Till Sir John fell to the ground,And there was a knife in Sir Willie’s pouch,Gied him a deadlie wound.3.‘Oh brither dear, take me on your back,Carry me to yon burn clear,And wash the blood from off my wound,And it will bleed nae mair.’4.He took him up upon his back,Carried him to yon burn clear,And washd the blood from off his wound,But aye it bled the mair.5.‘Oh brither dear, take me on your back,Carry me to yon kirk-yard,And dig a grave baith wide and deep,And lay my body there.’6.He’s taen him up upon his back,Carried him to yon kirk-yard,And dug a grave baith deep and wide,And laid his body there.7.‘But what will I say to my father dear,Gin he chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,To buy him a cask of wine.’8.‘And what will I say to my mother dear,Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,To buy her a new silk gown.’9.‘And what will I say to my sister dear,Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,To buy her a wedding ring.’10.‘But what will I say to her you lo’e dear,Gin she cry, Why tarries my John?’‘Oh tell her I lie in Kirk-land fair,And home again will never come.’
1.
1.4‘warsle,’ wrestle.
Therewere twa brethren in the north,
They went to the school thegither;
The one unto the other said,
‘Will you try a warsle afore?’
2.
They warsled up, they warsled down,
Till Sir John fell to the ground,
And there was a knife in Sir Willie’s pouch,
Gied him a deadlie wound.
3.
‘Oh brither dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon burn clear,
And wash the blood from off my wound,
And it will bleed nae mair.’
4.
He took him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon burn clear,
And washd the blood from off his wound,
But aye it bled the mair.
5.
‘Oh brither dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon kirk-yard,
And dig a grave baith wide and deep,
And lay my body there.’
6.
He’s taen him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon kirk-yard,
And dug a grave baith deep and wide,
And laid his body there.
7.
‘But what will I say to my father dear,
Gin he chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’
‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,
To buy him a cask of wine.’
8.
‘And what will I say to my mother dear,
Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’
‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,
To buy her a new silk gown.’
9.
‘And what will I say to my sister dear,
Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar’s John?’
‘Oh say that he’s to England gone,
To buy her a wedding ring.’
10.
‘But what will I say to her you lo’e dear,
Gin she cry, Why tarries my John?’
‘Oh tell her I lie in Kirk-land fair,
And home again will never come.’
The Textis taken from Motherwell’sMS., which contains two versions; Motherwell printed a third in hisMinstrelsy,—Babylon; or, The Bonnie Banks o’ Fordie. Kinloch called the ballad theDuke of Perth’s Three Daughters. As the following text has no title, I have ventured to give it one. ‘Outlyer’ is, of course, simply ‘a banished man.’
The Storyis much more familiar in all the branches of the Scandinavian race than in England or Scotland. In Denmark it appears asHerr Truels’ DaughtersorHerr Thor’s Children; in Sweden asHerr Torës’ Daughters. Iceland and Faroe give the name as Torkild or Thorkell.
The incidents related in this ballad took place (i) in Scotland on the bonnie banks o’ Fordie, near Dunkeld; (ii) in Sweden in five or six different places; and (iii) in eight different localities in Denmark.
1.Therewere three sisters, they lived in a bower,Sing Anna, sing Margaret, sing MarjorieThe youngest o’ them was the fairest flower.And the dew goes thro’ the wood, gay ladie2.The oldest of them she’s to the wood gane,To seek a braw leaf and to bring it hame.3.There she met with an outlyer bold,Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.4.4.1‘Istow,’ art thou.4.2‘twinn with,’ part with.‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’5.‘O kind sir, if I hae’t at my will,I’ll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.’6.He’s taen out his wee pen-knife,He’s twinned this young lady of her sweet life.7.He wiped his knife along the dew;But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.8.The second of them she’s to the wood gane,To seek her old sister, and to bring her hame.9.There she met with an outlyer bold,Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.10.‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’11.‘O kind sir, if I hae’t at my will,I’ll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.’12.He’s taen out his wee pen-knife,He’s twinned this young lady of her sweet life.13.He wiped his knife along the dew;But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.14.The youngest o’ them she’s to the wood gane,To seek her two sisters, and to bring them hame.15.There she met with an outlyer bold,Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.16.‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’17.17.2‘speer,’ ask.‘If my three brethren they were here,Such questions as these thou durst nae speer.’18.‘Pray, what may thy three brethren be,That I durst na mak’ so bold with thee?’19.‘The eldest o’ them is a minister bred,He teaches the people from evil to good.20.‘The second o’ them is a ploughman good,He ploughs the land for his livelihood.21.‘The youngest of them is an outlyer bold,Lies many a long night in the woods so cold.’22.He stuck his knife then into the ground,He took a long race, let himself fall on.
1.
Therewere three sisters, they lived in a bower,
Sing Anna, sing Margaret, sing Marjorie
The youngest o’ them was the fairest flower.
And the dew goes thro’ the wood, gay ladie
2.
The oldest of them she’s to the wood gane,
To seek a braw leaf and to bring it hame.
3.
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.
4.
4.1‘Istow,’ art thou.
4.2‘twinn with,’ part with.
‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’
5.
‘O kind sir, if I hae’t at my will,
I’ll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.’
6.
He’s taen out his wee pen-knife,
He’s twinned this young lady of her sweet life.
7.
He wiped his knife along the dew;
But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.
8.
The second of them she’s to the wood gane,
To seek her old sister, and to bring her hame.
9.
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.
10.
‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’
11.
‘O kind sir, if I hae’t at my will,
I’ll twinn with my life, keep my maidenhead still.’
12.
He’s taen out his wee pen-knife,
He’s twinned this young lady of her sweet life.
13.
He wiped his knife along the dew;
But the more he wiped, the redder it grew.
14.
The youngest o’ them she’s to the wood gane,
To seek her two sisters, and to bring them hame.
15.
There she met with an outlyer bold,
Lies many long nights in the woods so cold.
16.
‘Istow a maid, or istow a wife?
Wiltow twinn with thy maidenhead, or thy sweet life?’
17.
17.2‘speer,’ ask.
‘If my three brethren they were here,
Such questions as these thou durst nae speer.’
18.
‘Pray, what may thy three brethren be,
That I durst na mak’ so bold with thee?’
19.
‘The eldest o’ them is a minister bred,
He teaches the people from evil to good.
20.
‘The second o’ them is a ploughman good,
He ploughs the land for his livelihood.
21.
‘The youngest of them is an outlyer bold,
Lies many a long night in the woods so cold.’
22.
He stuck his knife then into the ground,
He took a long race, let himself fall on.
The Textgiven here is from Sharpe’sBallad Book(1824). Professor Child collected and printed some twenty-eight variants and fragments, of which none is entirely satisfactory, as regards the telling of the story. The present text will suit our purpose as well as any other, and it ends impressively with the famous pathetic verse of the four Maries.
The Story.—Lesley in hisHistory of Scotland(1830) says that when Mary Stuart was sent to France in 1548, she had in attendance ‘sundry gentlewomen and noblemen’s sons and daughters, almost of her own age, of the which there were four in special of whom everyone of them bore the same name of Mary, being of four sundry honourable houses, to wit, Fleming, Livingston, Seton, and Beaton of Creich.’ The four Maries were still with the Queen in 1564. Hamilton and Carmichael appear in the ballad in place of Fleming and Livingston.
Scott attributed the origin of the ballad to an incident related by Knox in hisHistory of the Reformation: in 1563 or 1564 a Frenchwoman was seduced by the Queen’s apothecary, and the babe murdered by consent of father and mother. But the cries of a new-born babe had been heard; search was made, and both parents were ‘damned to be hanged upon the public street of Edinburgh.’
In 1824, in his preface to theBallad Book, Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe produced a similar story fromthe Russian court. In 1885 this story was retold from authentic sources as follows. After the marriage of one of the ministers of Peter the Great’s father with a Hamilton, the Scottish family ranked with the Russian aristocracy. The Czar Peter required that all his Empress Catharine’s maids-of-honour should be remarkably handsome; and Mary Hamilton, a niece, it is supposed, of the above minister’s wife, was appointed on account of her beauty. This Mary Hamilton had an amour with one Orlof, an aide-de-camp to the Czar; a murdered babe was found, the guilt traced to Mary, and she and Orlof sent to prison in April 1718. Orlof was afterwards released; Mary Hamilton was executed on March 14, 1719.
Professor Child, in printing this ballad in 1889, considered the details of the Russian story2(most of which I have omitted) to be so closely parallel to the Scottish ballad, that he was convinced that the later story was the origin of the ballad, and that the ballad-maker had located it in Mary Stuart’s court on his own responsibility. In September 1895 Mr. Andrew Lang contributed the results of his researches concerning the ballad toBlackwood’s Magazine, maintaining that the ballad must have arisen from the 1563 story, as it is too old and too good to have been written since 1718. Balancing this improbability—that the details of a Russian court scandal of 1718 should exactly correspond to a previously extant Scottish ballad—against the improbability of the eighteenth century producing such a ballad, Child afterwards concluded the latter to be the greater. The coincidence is undoubtedly striking; but neither the story nor the name are uncommon.
It is, of course, possible that the story is older than 1563—it should not be difficult to find more than one instance—and that it was first adapted to the 1563 incident and afterwards to the Russian scandal, the two versions being subsequently confused. But there is no evidence for this.
2.See Waliszewski’sPeter the Great(translated by Lady Mary Loyd), vol. i. p. 251. London, 1897.
1.Word’s gane to the kitchen,And word’s gane to the ha’,That Marie Hamilton gangs wi’ bairnTo the hichest Stewart of a’.2.He’s courted her in the kitchen,He’s courted her in the ha’,He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,And that was warst of a’.3.She’s tyed it in her apronAnd she’s thrown it in the sea;Says, ‘Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe,You’ll ne’er get mair o’ me.’4.Down then cam the auld queen,Goud tassels tying her hair:‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babeThat I heard greet sae sair?’5.‘There was never a babe intill my room,As little designs to be;It was but a touch o’ my sair side,Come o’er my fair bodie.’6.‘O Marie, put on your robes o’ black,Or else your robes o’ brown,For ye maun gang wi’ me the night,To see fair Edinbro’ town.’7.‘I winna put on my robes o’ black,Nor yet my robes o’ brown;But I’ll put on my robes o’ white,To shine through Edinbro’ town.’8.When she gaed up the Cannogate,She laugh’d loud laughters three;But whan she cam down the CannogateThe tear blinded her ee.9.When she gaed up the Parliament stair,The heel cam aff her shee;And lang or she cam down againShe was condemn’d to dee.10.When she cam down the Cannogate,The Cannogate sae free,Many a ladie look’d o’er her window,Weeping for this ladie.11.‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,‘Ye need nae weep for me;For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,This death I wadna dee.12.‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,‘The best that e’er ye hae,That I may drink to my weil-wishers,And they may drink to me.13.‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the main;Let them never let on to my father and motherBut what I’m coming hame.14.‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the sea;Let them never let on to my father and motherThat I cam here to dee.15.‘Oh little did my mother think,The day she cradled me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.16.‘Oh little did my father think,The day he held up me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.17.‘Last night I wash’d the queen’s feet,And gently laid her down;And a’ the thanks I’ve gotten the nichtTo be hang’d in Edinbro’ town!18.‘Last nicht there was four Maries,The nicht there’ll be but three;There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,And Marie Carmichael, and me.’
1.
Word’s gane to the kitchen,
And word’s gane to the ha’,
That Marie Hamilton gangs wi’ bairn
To the hichest Stewart of a’.
2.
He’s courted her in the kitchen,
He’s courted her in the ha’,
He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,
And that was warst of a’.
3.
She’s tyed it in her apron
And she’s thrown it in the sea;
Says, ‘Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe,
You’ll ne’er get mair o’ me.’
4.
Down then cam the auld queen,
Goud tassels tying her hair:
‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babe
That I heard greet sae sair?’
5.
‘There was never a babe intill my room,
As little designs to be;
It was but a touch o’ my sair side,
Come o’er my fair bodie.’
6.
‘O Marie, put on your robes o’ black,
Or else your robes o’ brown,
For ye maun gang wi’ me the night,
To see fair Edinbro’ town.’
7.
‘I winna put on my robes o’ black,
Nor yet my robes o’ brown;
But I’ll put on my robes o’ white,
To shine through Edinbro’ town.’
8.
When she gaed up the Cannogate,
She laugh’d loud laughters three;
But whan she cam down the Cannogate
The tear blinded her ee.
9.
When she gaed up the Parliament stair,
The heel cam aff her shee;
And lang or she cam down again
She was condemn’d to dee.
10.
When she cam down the Cannogate,
The Cannogate sae free,
Many a ladie look’d o’er her window,
Weeping for this ladie.
11.
‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,
‘Ye need nae weep for me;
For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,
This death I wadna dee.
12.
‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,
‘The best that e’er ye hae,
That I may drink to my weil-wishers,
And they may drink to me.
13.
‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,
That sail upon the main;
Let them never let on to my father and mother
But what I’m coming hame.
14.
‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,
That sail upon the sea;
Let them never let on to my father and mother
That I cam here to dee.
15.
‘Oh little did my mother think,
The day she cradled me,
What lands I was to travel through,
What death I was to dee.
16.
‘Oh little did my father think,
The day he held up me,
What lands I was to travel through,
What death I was to dee.
17.
‘Last night I wash’d the queen’s feet,
And gently laid her down;
And a’ the thanks I’ve gotten the nicht
To be hang’d in Edinbro’ town!
18.
‘Last nicht there was four Maries,
The nicht there’ll be but three;
There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,
And Marie Carmichael, and me.’