"Upon the wedding day?"
"I come na here to fight," he said,
"I come na here to play;
"I'll but lead a dance wi' the bonnie bride,
"And mount and go my way."
It is a glass of the blood-red wine
Was filled up them between,
And aye she drank to Lauderdale,
Wha her true love had been.
He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,
And by the grass-green sleeve;
He's mounted her hie behind himsell,
At her kinsmen spear'd na leave.
"Now take your bride, Lord Lochinvar!
"Now take her if you may!
"But, if you take your bride again,
"We'll call it but foul play."
There were four-and-twenty bonnie boys,
A' clad in the Johnstone grey;[A]
They said they would take the bride again,
By the strong hand, if they may.
Some o' them were right willing men,
But they were na willing a';
And four-and-twenty Leader lads
Bid them mount and ride awa'.
Then whingers flew frae gentles' sides,
And swords flew frae the shea's,
And red and rosy was the blood
Ran down the lily braes.
The blood ran down by Caddon bank,
And down by Caddon brae;
And, sighing, said the bonnie bride—
"O waes me for foul play!"
My blessing on your heart, sweet thing!
Wae to your willfu' will!
There's mony a gallant gentleman
Whae's blude ye have garr'd to spill.
Now a' you lords of fair England,
And that dwell by the English border,
Come never here to seek a wife,
For fear of sic disorder.
They'll haik ye up, and settle ye bye,
Till on your wedding day;
Then gie ye frogs instead of fish,
And play ye foul foul play.
[A]
Johnstone grey—The livery of the ancient family of Johnstone.
Johnstone grey—The livery of the ancient family of Johnstone.
THE LAIRD O' LOGIE
An edition of this ballad is current, under the title of "The Laird of Ochiltree;" but the editor, since publication of this work, has been fortunate enough to recover the following more correct and ancient copy, as recited by a gentleman residing near Biggar. It agrees more nearly, both in the name and in the circumstances, with the real fact, than the printed ballad of Ochiltree.
In the year 1592, Francis Stuart, earl of Bothwell, was agitating his frantic and ill-concerted attempts against the person of James VI., whom he endeavoured to surprise in the palace of Falkland. Through the emulation and private rancour of the courtiers, he found adherents even about the king's person; among whom, it seems, was the hero of our ballad, whose history is thus narrated in that curious and valuable chronicle, of which the first part has been published under the title of "The Historie of "King James the Sext," and the second is now in the press.
"In this close tyme it fortunit, that a gentelman, callit Weymis of Logye, being also in credence at court, was delatit as a traffekker with Frances Erle Bothwell; and he being examinat before king and counsall, confessit his accusation to be of veritie, that sundrie tymes he had spokin with him, expresslie aganis the king's inhibitioun proclamit in the contrare, whilk confession he subscryvit with his hand; and because the event of this mater had sik a succes, it sall also be praysit be my pen, as a worthie turne, proceiding frome honest chest loove and charitie, whilk suld on na wayis be obscurit from the posteritie for the gude example; and therefore I have thought gude to insert the same for a perpetual memorie.
"Queen Anne, our noble princess, was servit with dyverss gentilwemen of hir awin cuntrie, and naymelie with are callit Mres Margaret Twynstoun,[A]to whome this gentilman, Weymes of Logye, bure great honest affection, tending to the godlie band of marriage, the whilk was honestlie requytet be the said gentilwoman, yea evin in his greatest mister; for howsone she understude the said gentilman to be in distress, and apperantlie be his confession to be puueist to the death, and she having prevelege to ly in the queynis chalmer that same verie night of his accusation, whare the king was also reposing that same night, she came forth of the dur prevelie, bayth the prencis being then at quyet rest, and past to the chalmer, whare the said gentilman was put in custodie to certayne of the garde, and commandit thayme that immediatelie he sould be broght to the king and queyne, whareunto thay geving sure credence, obeyit. Bot howsone she was cum bak to the chalmer dur, she desyrit the watches to stay till he sould cum furth agayne, and so she closit the dur, and convoyit the gentilman to a windo', whare she ministrat a long corde unto him to convoy himself doun upon; and sa, be hir gude cheritable help, he happelie escapit be the subteltie of loove."
[A]
Twynelace, according to Spottiswoode.
Twynelace, according to Spottiswoode.
THE LAIRD O' LOGIE.
I will sing, if ye will hearken,
If ye will hearken unto me;
The king has ta'en a poor prisoner,
The wanton laird o' young Logie.
Young Logie's laid in Edinburgh chapel;
Carmichael's the keeper o' the key;
And may Margaret's lamenting sair,
A' for the love of young Logie.
"Lament, lament na, may Margaret,
"And of your weeping let me be;
"For ye maun to the king himsell,
"To seek the life of young Logie."
May Margaret has kilted her green cleiding,
And she has curl'd back her yellow hair—
"If I canna get young Logie's life,
"Fareweel to Scotland for evermair."
When she came before the king,
She knelit lowly on her knee—
"O what's the matter, may Margaret?
"And what needs a' this courtesie?"
"A boon, a boon, my noble liege,
"A boon, a boon, I beg o' thee!
"And the first boon that I come to crave,
"Is to grant me the life of young Logic."
"O na, O na, may Margaret,
"Forsooth, and so it manna be;
"For a' the gowd o' fair Scotland
"Shall not save the life of young Logie."
But she has stown the king's redding kaim,[A]
Likewise the queen her wedding knife;
And sent the tokens to Carmichael,
To cause young Logic get his life.
She sent him a purse o' the red gowd,
Another o' the white monie;
She sent him a pistol for each hand,
And bade him shoot when he gat free.
When he came to the tolbooth stair,
There he let his volley flee;
It made the king in his chamber start,
E'en in the bed where he might be.
"Gae out, gae out, my merrymen a',
"And bid Carmichael come speak to me;
"For I'll lay my life the pledge o' that,
"That yon's the shot o' young Logie."
When Carmichael came before the king,
He fell low down upon his knee;
The very first word that the king spake,
Was—"Where's the laird of young Logie?"
Carmichael turn'd him round about,
(I wot the tear blinded his eye)
"There came a token frae your grace,
"Has ta'en away the laird frae me."
"Hast thou play'd me that, Carmichael?"
"And hast thou play'd me that?" quoth he;
"The morn the justice court's to stand,
"And Logic's place ye maun supply."
Carmichael's awa to Margaret's bower,
Even as fast as he may drie—
"O if young Logie be within,
"Tell him to come and speak with me!"
May Margaret turned her round about,
(I wot a loud laugh laughed she)
"The egg is chipped, the bird is flown,
"Ye'll see na mair of young Logie."
The tane is shipped at the pier of Leith,
The tother at the Queen's Ferrie;
And she's gotten a father to her bairn,
The wanton laird of young Logie.
[A]
Redding kain—Comb for the hair.
Redding kain—Comb for the hair.
NOTE ON THE LAIRD O' LOGIE.
Carmichael's the keeper o' the key.—P. 344. v. 2.
Sir John Carmichael of Carmichael, the hero of the ballad, called the Raid of the Reidswair, was appointed captain of the king's guard in 1588, and usually had the keeping of state criminals of rank.
A LYKE-WAKE DIRGE.
This is a sort of charm, sung by the lower ranks of Roman Catholics, in some parts of the north of England, while watching a dead body, previous to interment. The tune is doleful and monotonous, and, joined to the mysterious import of the words, has a solemn effect. The wordsleet, in the chorus, seems to be corrupted fromselt, or salt; a quantity of which, in compliance with a popular superstition, is frequently placed on the breast of a corpse.
The mythologic ideas of the dirge are common to various creeds. The Mahometan believes, that, in advancing to the final judgment seat, he must traverse a bar of red-hot iron, stretched across a bottomless gulph. The good works of each true believer, assuming a substantial form, will then interpose betwixt his feet and this"Bridge of Dread;"but the wicked, having no such protection, must fall headlong into the abyss.—D'HERBELOT,Bibiotheque Orientale.
Passages, similar to this dirge, are also to be found inLady Culross's Dream, as quoted in the second Dissertation prefixed by Mr Pinkerton to hisSelect Scottish Ballads, 2 vols. The dreamer journeys towards heaven, accompanied and assisted by a celestial guide:
Through dreadful dens, which made my heart aghast,
He bare me up when I began to tire.
Sometimes we clamb o'er craggy mountains high.
And sometimes stay'd on uglie braes of sand:
They were so stay that wonder was to see;
But, when I fear'd, he held me by the hand.
Through great deserts we wandered on our way—
Forward we passed on narrow bridge of trie,
O'er waters great, which hediously did roar.
Again, she supposes herself suspended over an infernal gulph:
Ere I was ware, one gripped me at the last,
And held me high above a naming fire.
The fire was great; the heat did pierce me sore;
My faith grew weak.; my grip was very small;
I trembled fast; my fear grew more and more.
A horrible picture of the same kind, dictated probably by the author's unhappy state of mind, is to be found in Brooke'sFool of Quality. The dreamer, a ruined female, is suspended over the gulph of perdition by a single hair, which is severed by a demon, who, in the form of her seducer springs upwards from the flames.
The Russian funeral service, without any allegorical imagery, expresses the sentiment of the dirge in language alike simple and noble.
"Hast thou pitied the afflicted, O man? In death shalt thou be pitied. Hast thou consoled the orphan? The orphan will deliver thee. Hast thou clothed the naked? The naked will procure thee protection."—RICHARDSON'SAnecdotes of Russia.
But the most minute description of theBrig o' Dread, occurs in the legend ofSir Owain, No. XL. in the MS. Collection of Romances, W. 4.1. Advocates' Library, Edinburgh; though its position is not the same as in the dirge, which may excite a suspicion that the order of the stanzas in the latter has been transposed. Sir Owain, a Northumbrian knight, after many frightful adventures in St Patrick's purgatory, at last arrives at the bridge, which, in the legend, is placed betwixt purgatory and paradise:
The fendes han the knight ynome,
To a stinkand water thai ben ycome,
He no seigh never er non swiche;
It stank fouler than ani hounde.
And maui mile it was to the grounde.
And was as swart as piche.
And Owain seigh ther ouer ligge
A swithe strong naru brigge:
The fendes seyd tho;
"Lo! sir knight, sestow this?
"This is the brigge of paradis,
"Here ouer thou must go.
"And we the schul with stones prowe,
"And the winde the schul ouer blow,
"And wirche the full wo;
"Thou no schalt tor all this unduerd,
"Bot gif thou falle a midwerd,
"To our fewes[A] mo.
"And when thou art adown yfalle,
"Than schal com our felawes alle,
"And with her hokes the hede;
"We schul the teche a newe play:
"Thou hast served ous mani a day,
"And into helle the lede."
Owain biheld the brigge smert,
The water ther under blac and swert,
And sore him gan to drede:
For of othing he tok yeme,
Never mot, in sonne beme,
Thicker than the fendes yede.
The brigge was as heigh as a tour,
And as scharpe as a rasour,
And naru it was also;
And the water that ther ran under,
Brend o' lighting and of thonder,
That thoght him michel wo.
Ther nis no clerk may write with ynke,
No no man no may bithink,
No no maister deuine;
That is ymade forsoth ywis.
Under the brigge of paradis,
Halvendel the pine.
So the dominical ous telle,
That is the pure entrae of helle,
Seine Poule berth witnesse;[A]
Whoso falleth of the brigge adown,
Of him nis no redempcioun,
Noîther more nor lesse.
The fendes seyd to the knight tho,
"Ouer this brigge might thou nowght go,
"For noneskines nede;
"Fle peril sorwe and wo,
"And to that stede ther thou com fro,
"Wel fair we schul the lede."
Owain anon be gan bithenche,
Fram hou mani of the fendes wrenche,
God him saved hadde;
He sett his fot opon the brigge,
No feld he no scharpe egge,
No nothing him no drad.
When the fendes yseigh tho,
That he was more than half ygo,