D

Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 5.

1'O we were sisters seven, Maisry,And five are dead wi child;There is nane but you and I, Maisry,And we'll go maidens mild.'2She hardly had the word spoken,And turnd her round about,When the bonny Earl of LivingstonWas calling Maisry out.3Upon a bonny milk-white steed,That drank out of the Tyne,And a' was for her Ladie Maisry,To take her hyne and hyne.4Upon a bonny milk-white steed,That drank out o the Tay,And a' was for her Lady Maisry,To carry her away.5She had not been at LivingstonA twelve month and a day,Until she was as big wi bairnAs any ladie coud gae.6She calld upon her little foot-page,Says, Ye maun run wi speed,And bid my mother come to me,For of her I'll soon have need.7'See, there is the brootch frae my hause-bane,It is of gowd sae ried;Gin she winna come when I'm alive,Bid her come when I am dead.'8But ere she wan to Livingston,As fast as she coud ride,The gaggs they were in Maisry's mouth,And the sharp sheers in her side.9Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands,Till the gowd rings flaw in three:'Let ha's and bowers and a' gae waste,My bonny love's taen frae me!'10'O hold your tongue, Lord Livingston,Let a' your mourning be;For I bare the bird between my sides,Yet I maun thole her to die.'11Then out it spake her sister dear,As she sat at her head:'That man is not in ChristendoomShall gar me die sicken dead.'12'O hold your tongue, my ae daughter,Let a' your folly be,For ye shall be married ere this day weekTho the same death you should die.'

1'O we were sisters seven, Maisry,And five are dead wi child;There is nane but you and I, Maisry,And we'll go maidens mild.'

2She hardly had the word spoken,And turnd her round about,When the bonny Earl of LivingstonWas calling Maisry out.

3Upon a bonny milk-white steed,That drank out of the Tyne,And a' was for her Ladie Maisry,To take her hyne and hyne.

4Upon a bonny milk-white steed,That drank out o the Tay,And a' was for her Lady Maisry,To carry her away.

5She had not been at LivingstonA twelve month and a day,Until she was as big wi bairnAs any ladie coud gae.

6She calld upon her little foot-page,Says, Ye maun run wi speed,And bid my mother come to me,For of her I'll soon have need.

7'See, there is the brootch frae my hause-bane,It is of gowd sae ried;Gin she winna come when I'm alive,Bid her come when I am dead.'

8But ere she wan to Livingston,As fast as she coud ride,The gaggs they were in Maisry's mouth,And the sharp sheers in her side.

9Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands,Till the gowd rings flaw in three:'Let ha's and bowers and a' gae waste,My bonny love's taen frae me!'

10'O hold your tongue, Lord Livingston,Let a' your mourning be;For I bare the bird between my sides,Yet I maun thole her to die.'

11Then out it spake her sister dear,As she sat at her head:'That man is not in ChristendoomShall gar me die sicken dead.'

12'O hold your tongue, my ae daughter,Let a' your folly be,For ye shall be married ere this day weekTho the same death you should die.'

Dr John Hill Burton's MS., No 2.

1'Here it is was sisters seven,And five is died with child;Was non but you and I, Hellen,And we'se be maidens mild.'2They hadna been maidens o bonny SnawdonA twalvemonth and a day,When lairds and lords a courting came,Seeking Mary away.3The bonny laird of Livingstone,He liket Mary best;He gae her a ring, a royal ring,And he wedded her at last.4She hed na been lady o LivingstoneA twalvemonth and a day,When she did go as big wi bairnAs iver a woman could be.* * * * *7The knights were wringin their white fingers,And the ladys wer tearin their hair;It was a' for the lady o Livingstone,For a word she never spake mare.8Out and spake her sister Hellen,Where she sat by her side;'The man shall never be born,' she said,'Shall ever make me his bride.9'The man,' she said, 'that would merry me,I'de count him but a feel,To merry me at Whitsunday,And bury me at Yele.'10Out and spak her mother dear,Whare she sat by the fire:'I bare this babe now from my side,Maun suffer her to die.11'And I have six boys now to my oyes,And none of them were born,But a hole cut in their mother's side,And they from it were shorne.'12. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

1'Here it is was sisters seven,And five is died with child;Was non but you and I, Hellen,And we'se be maidens mild.'

2They hadna been maidens o bonny SnawdonA twalvemonth and a day,When lairds and lords a courting came,Seeking Mary away.

3The bonny laird of Livingstone,He liket Mary best;He gae her a ring, a royal ring,And he wedded her at last.

4She hed na been lady o LivingstoneA twalvemonth and a day,When she did go as big wi bairnAs iver a woman could be.

* * * * *

7The knights were wringin their white fingers,And the ladys wer tearin their hair;It was a' for the lady o Livingstone,For a word she never spake mare.

8Out and spake her sister Hellen,Where she sat by her side;'The man shall never be born,' she said,'Shall ever make me his bride.

9'The man,' she said, 'that would merry me,I'de count him but a feel,To merry me at Whitsunday,And bury me at Yele.'

10Out and spak her mother dear,Whare she sat by the fire:'I bare this babe now from my side,Maun suffer her to die.

11'And I have six boys now to my oyes,And none of them were born,But a hole cut in their mother's side,And they from it were shorne.'

12. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

Motherwell's MS., p. 123, from the recitation of Mrs Macqueen, Lochwinnoch.

1'Arise, arise, dochter,' she said,'My bidding to obey;The bravest lord in all ScotlandThis night asked you of me.'2'O haud your tongue, mother,' she said,'These words they do me wrang;For gin I lye in a man's bed,My days will no be lang.3'There were seven sisters o us a',We were a' clad in white;And five of them were married,And in child-bed they died.'4'Ye shall not be drest in black,Nor sall ye be in broun;But ye'se be drest in shining gowd,To gae glittering thro the town.5'Your father sall ride before you,' she said,'And your brother sall ride ahin;Your horses fore-feet siller shod,And his hind anes wi gowd shall shine.6'Wi four and twenty buirdlie menAtween ye and the wun,And four and twenty bonnie maysAtween ye and the sun.7'Four and twenty milk-white geese,Stretching their wings sae wide,Blawing the dust aff the high-way,That Mild Mary may ride.'8They took to them their milk-white steeds,Set her upon a grey,And wi a napkin in her handWeeping she rade away.9O they rade on that lee-lang nicht,And part o the neist day also,And syne she saw her auld good motherStand in the gates below.10'You'r welcome, welcome, dochter,' she said,'To your biggins and your bowers;''I thank ye kindly, mither,' she said,'But I doubt they'll sune be yours.'* * * * *

1'Arise, arise, dochter,' she said,'My bidding to obey;The bravest lord in all ScotlandThis night asked you of me.'

2'O haud your tongue, mother,' she said,'These words they do me wrang;For gin I lye in a man's bed,My days will no be lang.

3'There were seven sisters o us a',We were a' clad in white;And five of them were married,And in child-bed they died.'

4'Ye shall not be drest in black,Nor sall ye be in broun;But ye'se be drest in shining gowd,To gae glittering thro the town.

5'Your father sall ride before you,' she said,'And your brother sall ride ahin;Your horses fore-feet siller shod,And his hind anes wi gowd shall shine.

6'Wi four and twenty buirdlie menAtween ye and the wun,And four and twenty bonnie maysAtween ye and the sun.

7'Four and twenty milk-white geese,Stretching their wings sae wide,Blawing the dust aff the high-way,That Mild Mary may ride.'

8They took to them their milk-white steeds,Set her upon a grey,And wi a napkin in her handWeeping she rade away.

9O they rade on that lee-lang nicht,And part o the neist day also,And syne she saw her auld good motherStand in the gates below.

10'You'r welcome, welcome, dochter,' she said,'To your biggins and your bowers;''I thank ye kindly, mither,' she said,'But I doubt they'll sune be yours.'

* * * * *

a.Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 183.b.The Borderer's Table Book, VII, 178, communicated by J. H. Dixon; "transcribed from a MS. copy in possession of an antiquarian friend," collated witha.

1'O we were seven brave sisters,Five of us died wi child,And nane but you and I, Maisry,So we'll gae maidens mild.'2'O had your tongue, now Lady Margaret,Let a' your folly be;I'll gar you keep your true promiseTo the lad ayont the sea.'3'O there is neither lord nor knightMy love shall ever won,Except it be Lord Darlington,And here he winna come.'4But when the hour o twall was past,And near the hour o one,Lord Darlington came to the yetts,Wi thirty knights and ten.5Then he has wedded Lady Margaret,And brought her oer the sea,And there was nane that lived on earthSae happy as was she.6But when nine months were come and ganeStrong travailling took she,And nae physician in the landCould ease her maladie.7'Where will I get a little wee boy,Will won baith meat and fee,That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,Bring my mother to me?'8'O here am I, a little wee boy,That will won meat and fee,That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,And bring your mother to thee.'9Then he is on to Seaton's yetts,As fast as gang could he;Says, Ye must come to Darlington,Your daughter for to see.10But when she came to Darlington,Where there was little pride,The scobbs were in the lady's mouth,The sharp sheer in her side.11Darlington stood on the stair,And gart the gowd rings flee:'My ha's and bowers and a' shall gae waste,If my bonny love die for me.'12'O had your tongue, Lord Darlington,Let a' your folly be;I boor the bird within my sides,I'll suffer her to die.13'But he that marries my daughter,I think he is a fool;If he marries her at Candlemas,She'll be frae him ere Yule.14'I had seven ance in companie,This night I go my lane;And when I come to Clyde's water,I wish that I may drown.'

1'O we were seven brave sisters,Five of us died wi child,And nane but you and I, Maisry,So we'll gae maidens mild.'

2'O had your tongue, now Lady Margaret,Let a' your folly be;I'll gar you keep your true promiseTo the lad ayont the sea.'

3'O there is neither lord nor knightMy love shall ever won,Except it be Lord Darlington,And here he winna come.'

4But when the hour o twall was past,And near the hour o one,Lord Darlington came to the yetts,Wi thirty knights and ten.

5Then he has wedded Lady Margaret,And brought her oer the sea,And there was nane that lived on earthSae happy as was she.

6But when nine months were come and ganeStrong travailling took she,And nae physician in the landCould ease her maladie.

7'Where will I get a little wee boy,Will won baith meat and fee,That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,Bring my mother to me?'

8'O here am I, a little wee boy,That will won meat and fee,That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,And bring your mother to thee.'

9Then he is on to Seaton's yetts,As fast as gang could he;Says, Ye must come to Darlington,Your daughter for to see.

10But when she came to Darlington,Where there was little pride,The scobbs were in the lady's mouth,The sharp sheer in her side.

11Darlington stood on the stair,And gart the gowd rings flee:'My ha's and bowers and a' shall gae waste,If my bonny love die for me.'

12'O had your tongue, Lord Darlington,Let a' your folly be;I boor the bird within my sides,I'll suffer her to die.

13'But he that marries my daughter,I think he is a fool;If he marries her at Candlemas,She'll be frae him ere Yule.

14'I had seven ance in companie,This night I go my lane;And when I come to Clyde's water,I wish that I may drown.'

The copy of the garland here used is much more correct than the other two, but still not carefully printed. The garland gives the ballad in eight stanzas of eight verses.11. so were sisters.62. bower:perhaps we should readtowers.82. weight,which makes sense, but, taking rhyme into account, the change seems requisite: cf. 302.152. came: comein the other copies.162. swim.191. of aik?192. weary lake-wake?if so, also 132.271. his eyes.282. downfal.301. finger.302. weight.311. of: veine.

The copy of the garland here used is much more correct than the other two, but still not carefully printed. The garland gives the ballad in eight stanzas of eight verses.

11. so were sisters.

62. bower:perhaps we should readtowers.

82. weight,which makes sense, but, taking rhyme into account, the change seems requisite: cf. 302.

152. came: comein the other copies.

162. swim.

191. of aik?

192. weary lake-wake?if so, also 132.

271. his eyes.

282. downfal.

301. finger.

302. weight.

311. of: veine.

B. a.

Stanzas 5-7 should come after 26, but the changes which have been traditionally made in 7, to adapt the passage to its actual position, render the restoration of the right order impracticable. 71is not comforting.22. An lords?33. brooch is.124. now to bird:cf. 194.132. bent:so the other copy.134. Ye.142. clap nor cae':cf. 162.151. come.162. war (?).171. al.193. to my.202. coped: caped?21.After this these lines are struck out:

22. An lords?

33. brooch is.

124. now to bird:cf. 194.

132. bent:so the other copy.

134. Ye.

142. clap nor cae':cf. 162.

151. come.

162. war (?).

171. al.

193. to my.

202. coped: caped?

21.After this these lines are struck out:

Nor yet do (to?) a well-ford madeHer errant for to set (let?).

221. Ga.234. stack (?).292. throught.304. luve,in my copy.The spelling is in several places doubtful.

221. Ga.

234. stack (?).

292. throught.

304. luve,in my copy.

The spelling is in several places doubtful.

bappears to be a transcript ofa: the spelling is somewhat regulated.

33. broatch is.62. in twa.82. wun.83. will rin.83, 103. Little Snod Down.93. of him.124. bird her lane.163. into.183. broch is.202. caped it.211, 2. Gae wash.221, 2, 3. Go, Go, Gae.234. slack.254. learwanting.263. scobswanting.304. live: rather.

33. broatch is.

62. in twa.

82. wun.

83. will rin.

83, 103. Little Snod Down.

93. of him.

124. bird her lane.

163. into.

183. broch is.

202. caped it.

211, 2. Gae wash.

221, 2, 3. Go, Go, Gae.

234. slack.

254. learwanting.

263. scobswanting.

304. live: rather.

104. here: eadded in different ink.

14. maiden.71. ringin.91. that wd.103. I hear.

14. maiden.

71. ringin.

91. that wd.

103. I hear.

62. the win'originally:iseems to have been changed tou.

F. a.

131. But her.

24. the lord.32. my true love eer shall be.34. And he winna come here to me.51. It's he.63. And neer a leech in a'.72. That will win meat.74. And bring your.

24. the lord.

32. my true love eer shall be.

34. And he winna come here to me.

51. It's he.

63. And neer a leech in a'.

72. That will win meat.

74. And bring your.

8.O out then spake the little foot-page,And knelt on bended knee:O here,etc.

82. will win both.111. Lord Darlington.123. side.131. He that marries a daughter o mine.132. I wot.133. Candemas tide.134. at Yule.143. When I come to the salt water.

82. will win both.

111. Lord Darlington.

123. side.

131. He that marries a daughter o mine.

132. I wot.

133. Candemas tide.

134. at Yule.

143. When I come to the salt water.

FOOTNOTES:[145]The stanza which should convey this part of the message is wanting, but may be confidently supplied from the errand-boy's repetition.[146]The three steeds inB23-25, the tiring out of the black and of the brown, and the endurance of the white, are found in 'Lady Maisry,' No 65,B,C,E,F, and this passage perhaps belongs to that ballad. It may, however, have been a commonplace. There is something similar in Bugge, p. 130, No 26B, 6-8, and Landstad, p. 512, No 57, 24-27. For the milk-white geese,E7, see No 66,C22, No 73,A, note.[147]Uhland, Schriften zur Geschichte der Dichtung und Sage, IV, 107, cites the chair of stone in EnglishA12, 18, as bringing to mind Bothe, st. 14, Wunderhorn, st. 12, where the mother sits down auf einen breiten Stein, an ein harten Stein, and breaks her heart. The chair of stone in the English ballad, like the chair of oak, is a customary seat of the mother's, and she is very far from breaking her heart. Nothing can be built on such accidents.

[145]The stanza which should convey this part of the message is wanting, but may be confidently supplied from the errand-boy's repetition.

[146]The three steeds inB23-25, the tiring out of the black and of the brown, and the endurance of the white, are found in 'Lady Maisry,' No 65,B,C,E,F, and this passage perhaps belongs to that ballad. It may, however, have been a commonplace. There is something similar in Bugge, p. 130, No 26B, 6-8, and Landstad, p. 512, No 57, 24-27. For the milk-white geese,E7, see No 66,C22, No 73,A, note.

[147]Uhland, Schriften zur Geschichte der Dichtung und Sage, IV, 107, cites the chair of stone in EnglishA12, 18, as bringing to mind Bothe, st. 14, Wunderhorn, st. 12, where the mother sits down auf einen breiten Stein, an ein harten Stein, and breaks her heart. The chair of stone in the English ballad, like the chair of oak, is a customary seat of the mother's, and she is very far from breaking her heart. Nothing can be built on such accidents.

A.'Bonny Bee Ho'm,' Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 6; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 185.B.'The Enchanted Ring,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 169.

A.'Bonny Bee Ho'm,' Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 6; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 185.

B.'The Enchanted Ring,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 169.

Awas given from the manuscript by Jamieson "verbatim," that is, with a few slight variations; the first stanza earlier, in the Scots Magazine, October, 1803, p. 700.

For the ring (chain,A7) that makes a man invulnerable, and that which indicates by the discoloration of the stone that his love is dead or untrue, see 'Hind Horn,' I, 200 f; for the vows inA3, 4,B3, 'Clerk Saunders,' at p. 156 f of this volume.[148]The like vows are adopted into a song called 'The Lowlands of Holland,' found in Herd's MSS, I, 97, and inserted in his Scottish Songs, 1776, II, 2; a fragment, but all that concerns us.[149]

1'My love has built a bony ship, and set her on the sea,With seven score good mariners to bear her company;There's three score is sunk, and three score dead at sea,And the Lowlands of Holland has twin'd my love and me.2'My love he built another ship, and set her on the main,And nane but twenty mariners for to bring her hame;But the weary wind began to rise, and the sea began to rout,My love then and his bonny ship turnd withershins about.3'There shall neither coif come on my head nor comb come in my hair;There shall neither coal nor candle-light shine in my bower mair;Nor will I love another one until the day I die,For I never lovd a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.'4'O had your tongue, my daughter dear, be still and be content;There are mair lads in Galloway, ye neen nae sair lament:''O there is none in Gallow, there's none at a' for me,For I never lovd a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.'

2'My love he built another ship, and set her on the main,And nane but twenty mariners for to bring her hame;But the weary wind began to rise, and the sea began to rout,My love then and his bonny ship turnd withershins about.

3'There shall neither coif come on my head nor comb come in my hair;There shall neither coal nor candle-light shine in my bower mair;Nor will I love another one until the day I die,For I never lovd a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.'

4'O had your tongue, my daughter dear, be still and be content;There are mair lads in Galloway, ye neen nae sair lament:''O there is none in Gallow, there's none at a' for me,For I never lovd a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.'

Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 6.

1By Arthur's Dale as late I wentI heard a heavy moan;I heard a ladie lammenting sair,And ay she cried Ohone!2'Ohon, alas! what shall I do,Tormented night and day!I never loved a love but ane,And now he's gone away.3'But I will do for my true-loveWhat ladies woud think sair;For seven year shall come and goEre a kaim gang in my hair.4'There shall neither a shoe gang on my foot,Nor a kaim gang in my hair,Nor eer a coal nor candle-lightShine in my bower nae mair.'5She thought her love had been on the sea,Fast sailling to Bee Hom;But he was in a quiet chamer,Hearing his ladie's moan.6'Be husht, be husht, my ladie dear,I pray thee mourn not so;For I am deep sworn on a bookTo Bee Hom for to go.'7She has gien him a chain of the beaten gowd,And a ring with a ruby stone:'As lang as this chain your body binds,Your blude can never be drawn.8'But gin this ring shoud fade or fail,Or the stone shoud change its hue,Be sure your love is dead and gone,Or she has proved untrue.'9He had no been at Bonny Bee HomA twelve month and a day,Till, looking on his gay gowd ring,The stone grew dark and gray.10'O ye take my riches to Bee Hom,And deal them presentlie,To the young that canna, the auld that maunna,And the blind that does not see.'11Now death has come into his bower,And split his heart in twain;So their twa souls flew up to heaven,And there shall ever remain.

1By Arthur's Dale as late I wentI heard a heavy moan;I heard a ladie lammenting sair,And ay she cried Ohone!

2'Ohon, alas! what shall I do,Tormented night and day!I never loved a love but ane,And now he's gone away.

3'But I will do for my true-loveWhat ladies woud think sair;For seven year shall come and goEre a kaim gang in my hair.

4'There shall neither a shoe gang on my foot,Nor a kaim gang in my hair,Nor eer a coal nor candle-lightShine in my bower nae mair.'

5She thought her love had been on the sea,Fast sailling to Bee Hom;But he was in a quiet chamer,Hearing his ladie's moan.

6'Be husht, be husht, my ladie dear,I pray thee mourn not so;For I am deep sworn on a bookTo Bee Hom for to go.'

7She has gien him a chain of the beaten gowd,And a ring with a ruby stone:'As lang as this chain your body binds,Your blude can never be drawn.

8'But gin this ring shoud fade or fail,Or the stone shoud change its hue,Be sure your love is dead and gone,Or she has proved untrue.'

9He had no been at Bonny Bee HomA twelve month and a day,Till, looking on his gay gowd ring,The stone grew dark and gray.

10'O ye take my riches to Bee Hom,And deal them presentlie,To the young that canna, the auld that maunna,And the blind that does not see.'

11Now death has come into his bower,And split his heart in twain;So their twa souls flew up to heaven,And there shall ever remain.

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 169.

1In Lauderdale I chanc'd to walk,And heard a lady's moan,Lamenting for her dearest dear,And aye she cried, Ohon!2'Sure never a maid that eer drew breathHad harder fate than me;I'd never a lad but one on earth,They forc'd him to the sea.3'The ale shall neer be brewin o malt,Neither by sea nor land,That ever mair shall cross my hause,Till my love comes to hand.4'A handsome lad, wi shoulders broad,Gold yellow was his hair;None of our Scottish youths on earthThat with him could compare.'5She thought her love was gone to sea,And landed in Bahome;But he was in a quiet chamber,Hearing his lady's moan.6'Why make ye all this moan, lady?Why make ye all this moan?For I'm deep sworn on a book,I must go to Bahome.7'Traitors false for to subdueOer seas I'll make me boun,That have trepand our kind Scotchmen,Like dogs to ding them down.'8'Weell, take this ring, this royal thing,Whose virtue is unknown;As lang's this ring's your body on,Your blood shall neer be drawn.9'But if this ring shall fade or stain,Or change to other hue,Come never mair to fair Scotland,If ye're a lover true.'10Then this couple they did part,With a sad heavy moan;The wind was fair, the ship was rare,They landed in Bahome.11But in that place they had not beenA month but barely one,Till he lookd on his gay gold ring,And riven was the stone.12Time after this was not expir'dA month but scarcely three,Till black and ugly was the ring,And the stone was burst in three.13'Fight on, fight on, you merry men all,With you I'll fight no more;I will gang to some holy place,Pray to the King of Glore.'14Then to the chapel he is gone,And knelt most piteouslie,For seven days and seven nights,Till blood ran frae his knee.15'Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome,And deal them liberallie,To young that cannot, and old that mannot,The blind that does not see.16'Give maist to women in child-bed laid,Can neither fecht nor flee;I hope she's in the heavens high,That died for love of me.'17The knights they wrang their white fingers,The ladies tore their hair;The women that neer had children born,In swoon they down fell there.18But in what way the knight expir'd,No tongue will eer declare;So this doth end my mournful song,From me ye'll get nae mair.

1In Lauderdale I chanc'd to walk,And heard a lady's moan,Lamenting for her dearest dear,And aye she cried, Ohon!

2'Sure never a maid that eer drew breathHad harder fate than me;I'd never a lad but one on earth,They forc'd him to the sea.

3'The ale shall neer be brewin o malt,Neither by sea nor land,That ever mair shall cross my hause,Till my love comes to hand.

4'A handsome lad, wi shoulders broad,Gold yellow was his hair;None of our Scottish youths on earthThat with him could compare.'

5She thought her love was gone to sea,And landed in Bahome;But he was in a quiet chamber,Hearing his lady's moan.

6'Why make ye all this moan, lady?Why make ye all this moan?For I'm deep sworn on a book,I must go to Bahome.

7'Traitors false for to subdueOer seas I'll make me boun,That have trepand our kind Scotchmen,Like dogs to ding them down.'

8'Weell, take this ring, this royal thing,Whose virtue is unknown;As lang's this ring's your body on,Your blood shall neer be drawn.

9'But if this ring shall fade or stain,Or change to other hue,Come never mair to fair Scotland,If ye're a lover true.'

10Then this couple they did part,With a sad heavy moan;The wind was fair, the ship was rare,They landed in Bahome.

11But in that place they had not beenA month but barely one,Till he lookd on his gay gold ring,And riven was the stone.

12Time after this was not expir'dA month but scarcely three,Till black and ugly was the ring,And the stone was burst in three.

13'Fight on, fight on, you merry men all,With you I'll fight no more;I will gang to some holy place,Pray to the King of Glore.'

14Then to the chapel he is gone,And knelt most piteouslie,For seven days and seven nights,Till blood ran frae his knee.

15'Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome,And deal them liberallie,To young that cannot, and old that mannot,The blind that does not see.

16'Give maist to women in child-bed laid,Can neither fecht nor flee;I hope she's in the heavens high,That died for love of me.'

17The knights they wrang their white fingers,The ladies tore their hair;The women that neer had children born,In swoon they down fell there.

18But in what way the knight expir'd,No tongue will eer declare;So this doth end my mournful song,From me ye'll get nae mair.

103.To the young that cannaThe auld that that maunna.

113. Till they.124. And stone.

113. Till they.

124. And stone.

FOOTNOTES:[148]Also 'Bonny Molly Stewart,' Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 128, and the Reply to 'Cromlet's Lilt,' Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and Traditionary, 1868, II, 59.[149]There are six double stanzas in Johnson's Museum, p. 118, to which Stenhouse, IV, 115, adds a concluding one, the fourth of Herd's. "This ballad," Stenhouse was informed, "was composed about the beginning of the last century by a young widow in Galloway, whose husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland." His authority was probably traditional, and all the information except the date, and, to be accurate, the widowhood, is found in the song itself. Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxxii, note 37, observes that neither Herd's nor Johnson's copy is so full "as one which may occasionally be met with in stall editions published about sixty years ago:" 1827. Logan, who prints two vulgar versions, or rather perversions, in which a bridegroom is pressed into the king's sea-service on the night of his marriage, Pedlar's Pack, p. 22, says: "A more lengthened version of the same ballad in the Scotch dialect will be found in Book First of A Selection of Scots Songs, Harmonised.... By Peter Urbani, Professor of Music, Edinburgh, circa 1794." Christie, I, 236, says that 'The Lowlands of Holland' was sung in his father's family, in Aberdeenshire, as far back as the middle of the last century. Herd's copy is translated by Talvj, Charakeristik, p. 594.

[148]Also 'Bonny Molly Stewart,' Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 128, and the Reply to 'Cromlet's Lilt,' Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and Traditionary, 1868, II, 59.

[149]There are six double stanzas in Johnson's Museum, p. 118, to which Stenhouse, IV, 115, adds a concluding one, the fourth of Herd's. "This ballad," Stenhouse was informed, "was composed about the beginning of the last century by a young widow in Galloway, whose husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland." His authority was probably traditional, and all the information except the date, and, to be accurate, the widowhood, is found in the song itself. Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxxii, note 37, observes that neither Herd's nor Johnson's copy is so full "as one which may occasionally be met with in stall editions published about sixty years ago:" 1827. Logan, who prints two vulgar versions, or rather perversions, in which a bridegroom is pressed into the king's sea-service on the night of his marriage, Pedlar's Pack, p. 22, says: "A more lengthened version of the same ballad in the Scotch dialect will be found in Book First of A Selection of Scots Songs, Harmonised.... By Peter Urbani, Professor of Music, Edinburgh, circa 1794." Christie, I, 236, says that 'The Lowlands of Holland' was sung in his father's family, in Aberdeenshire, as far back as the middle of the last century. Herd's copy is translated by Talvj, Charakeristik, p. 594.

A.'Lamkin,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 176.B.'Lambert Linkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 15; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 290.C.'Lamerlinkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 9.D.'Bold Rankin,' Maidment's New Book of Old Ballads, p. 73; Whitelaw's Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 246, V.E.'Lambkin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 246; retouched by Kinloch, II, 27.F.'Long Lankyn.'a.Notes and Queries, Second Series, II, 324.b.Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, II, 281.G.'Long Lonkin,' Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, 1846, VIII, 410; Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1835, p. 11.H.'Bauld Rankin,' Kinloch MSS, I, 306.I.Skene MSS, p. 75.J.'Lammikin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 371.K.'Long Longkin,' Percy Papers, communicated by Rev. P. Parsons, 1775.L.'Lamkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 14.M.'Cruel Lammikin.'a.Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, Adversaria, p. 60.b.Kinloch MSS, VI, 31.N.'Lamkin,' Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, Journal of Excursions, No 2.O.'Lammikin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 375.P.'Lammikin,' Herd's MSS, I, 25; Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, I, 145.Q.'Lammikin,' Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 45.R.'Lammikin,' Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 55.S.'Lambkin,' Motherwell's Note-Book, fol. 13.T.Recited by Ellen Healy, as sung by a woman living near Killarney.U.'Lamkin.'a.Allingham's Ballad Book, p. xxxiii.b.The same, p. 297, No 56.V.Harris MS., No 28, fol. 27b.

A.'Lamkin,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 176.

B.'Lambert Linkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 15; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 290.

C.'Lamerlinkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 9.

D.'Bold Rankin,' Maidment's New Book of Old Ballads, p. 73; Whitelaw's Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 246, V.

E.'Lambkin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 246; retouched by Kinloch, II, 27.

F.'Long Lankyn.'a.Notes and Queries, Second Series, II, 324.b.Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, II, 281.

G.'Long Lonkin,' Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, 1846, VIII, 410; Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1835, p. 11.

H.'Bauld Rankin,' Kinloch MSS, I, 306.

I.Skene MSS, p. 75.

J.'Lammikin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 371.

K.'Long Longkin,' Percy Papers, communicated by Rev. P. Parsons, 1775.

L.'Lamkin,' Motherwell's MS., p. 14.

M.'Cruel Lammikin.'a.Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, Adversaria, p. 60.b.Kinloch MSS, VI, 31.

N.'Lamkin,' Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, Journal of Excursions, No 2.

O.'Lammikin,' Kinloch MSS, V, 375.

P.'Lammikin,' Herd's MSS, I, 25; Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, I, 145.

Q.'Lammikin,' Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 45.

R.'Lammikin,' Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 55.

S.'Lambkin,' Motherwell's Note-Book, fol. 13.

T.Recited by Ellen Healy, as sung by a woman living near Killarney.

U.'Lamkin.'a.Allingham's Ballad Book, p. xxxiii.b.The same, p. 297, No 56.

V.Harris MS., No 28, fol. 27b.

'Lammikin: an Old Scotch Ballad,' Aberdeen, Lewis and James Smith, 1862, said to be edited by the Rev. Dr John Burnett Pratt, Episcopal minister at Cruden, Aberdeenshire, is made up ofA,B,P,Q,R, with such alterations as seemed good to the editor, and a few interpolated stanzas.

'Long Lonkin,' edited by A. O. Bell, C. E., York, 1846 (Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, III, 93), I have not seen, but presume it to be a compounded copy.

The story is told without material variation in all the numerous versions. A mason has built a castle for a nobleman, cannot get his pay, and therefore seeks revenge. The name given the builder is Lamkin,A,C,E,L,M,N,S,U; Lammikin,J,O,P,Q; Lankin, Lonkin,F b,G,I; Lantin,T; Long Lankyn, or Long Longkin,F a,G,K; Rankin,D,H; Balankin, or Lambert Linkin,B; Balcanqual,R. That of the nobleman is Lord Wearie, Weire,A,M,P,Q,U b; Lord Earie,N; Erley, Earley,J; Murray,I; Arran,C; Montgomery,E; Cassilis,S; he is lord of Prime Castle,B. The lord, having occasion to leave his family, fears mischief from the man whom he has wronged, and enjoins his wife to keep the castle well fastened. Precautions are taken, but nevertheless his enemy effects an entrance through some aperture that has not been secured,B,C,F,G,H,P,R,U b, or by connivance with a nurse,A,D,E,I. Most of the servants are away. To get at the lady, Lamkin, as we may call him, by advice of the nurse inflicts some hurt on the babe in the cradle, stabbing it, or "nipping" it, and its cries bring the mother down. The lady proffers large sums of gold to save her life, but Lamkin does not care for gold now. He gloats over his opportunity, and bids the nurse, or a maid-servant, or even one of the daughters of the house, to scour a silver bason to hold the lady's noble blood. The lord has a presentiment of calamity at home, and, returning, finds his house red with the blood of his wife and child. Lamkin is hanged,B,F,I, or burned,C,H, or boiled in a pot full of lead,D. The nurse is burned,A,B,D,F,H, or hanged,C,Q, or boiled in a caldron,I.[150]

InK, the oldest version, except perhapsP, which is greatly inferior, Lady Betty is called down by Longkin to see her mother's blood running, then Lady Nelly to see her sister's blood running, Lady Jenny to see Lady Nelly's, etc. InF,T, the mother, very unnaturally, offers Lamkin her daughter as wife, in ransom of her own life. InC,D, a servant offers her life for her lady; inD,G,K, a daughter for her mother.

Motherwell remarks, p. lxx of his Minstrelsy, note 27: "There is a 'Lambirkyns wod' near Dupplin, in Perthshire. Can this have got its name from the cruel mason who the ballad assures us 'lived in the wode'? If so, it must be very ancient. It is localized, too, I believe, at Balwearie, in Fifeshire; but there are few places where the ballad is remembered but which have also some ancient edifice in the neighborhood reared by the hands of Lammikin.[151]Indeed, it seems questionable how some Scottish lairds could well afford to get themselves seated in the large castles they once occupied unless they occasionally treated the mason after the fashion adopted in this ballad." And again, at p. 291: "There can be little doubt that the epithet Linkin Mr Lambert acquired from the secrecy and address with which he insinuated him into that notable strength [Prime Castle]. Indeed, all the names of Lammerlinkin, Lammikin, Lamkin, Lankin, Linkin, Belinkin, can easily be traced out as abbreviations of Lambert Linkin." It might be inferred, however, from the mason's seemingly resentful inquiry inA8-11,J3-6, Where's the men, women, bairns, lady, that call me Lamkin? that the view in these particular versions was that Lamkin was a sobriquet applied in derision of the meekness with which the builder had submitted to his injury. Linkin, it will be observed, occurs only inB, and it is far more likely that Lamkin, or Lammikin, which is found in a full dozen copies, is a simply ironical designation for the bloody mason, the terror of countless nurseries.[152]

Ais translated by Talvj, Versuch, etc., p. 571; Allingham's ballad by Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 162.

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 176, communicated by Mrs Brown.

1It's Lamkin was a mason goodas ever built wi stane;He built Lord Wearie's castle,but payment got he nane.2'O pay me, Lord Wearie,come, pay me my fee:''I canna pay you, Lamkin,for I maun gang oer the sea.'3'O pay me now, Lord Wearie,come, pay me out o hand:''I canna pay you, Lamkin,unless I sell my land.'4'O gin ye winna pay me,I here sall mak a vow,Before that ye come hame again,ye sall hae cause to rue.'5Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,to sail the saut sea faem;Bade his lady weel the castle keep,ay till he should come hame.6But the nourice was a fause limmeras eer hung on a tree;She laid a plot wi Lamkin,whan her lord was oer the sea.7She laid a plot wi Lamkin,when the servants were awa,Loot him in at a little shot-window,and brought him to the ha.8'O whare's a' the men o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the barn-well thrashing;'twill be lang ere they come in.'9And whare's the women o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the far well washing;'twill be lang ere they come in.'10'And whare's the bairns o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the school reading;'twill be night or they come hame.'11'O whare's the lady o this house,that ca's me Lamkin?''She's up in her bower sewing,but we soon can bring her down.'12Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife,that hang down by his gaire,And he has gien the bonny babea deep wound and a sair.13Then Lamkin he rocked,and the fause nourice sang,Till frae ilkae bore o the cradlethe red blood out sprang.14Then out it spak the lady,as she stood on the stair:'What ails my bairn, nourice,that he's greeting sae sair?15'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the pap!''He winna still, lady,for this nor for that.'16'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the wand!''He winna still, lady,for a' his father's land.'17'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the bell!''He winna still, lady,till ye come down yoursel.'18O the firsten step she steppit,she steppit on a stane;But the neisten step she steppit,she met him Lamkin.19'O mercy, mercy, Lamkin,hae mercy upon me!Though you've taen my young son's life,ye may let mysel be.'20'O sall I kill her, nourice,or sall I lat her be?''O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,for she neer was good to me.'21'O scour the bason, nourice,and mak it fair and clean,For to keep this lady's heart's blood,for she's come o noble kin.'22'There need nae bason, Lamkin,lat it run through the floor;What better is the heart's bloodo the rich than o the poor?'23But ere three months were at an end,Lord Wearie came again;But dowie, dowie was his heartwhen first he came hame.24'O wha's blood is this,' he says,'that lies in the chamer?''It is your lady's heart's blood;'tis as clear as the lamer.'25'And wha's blood is this,' he says,'that lies in my ha?''It is your young son's heart's blood;'tis the clearest ava.'26O sweetly sang the black-birdthat sat upon the tree;But sairer grat Lamkin,when he was condemnd to die.27And bonny sang the mavis,out o the thorny brake;But sairer grat the nourice,when she was tied to the stake.

1It's Lamkin was a mason goodas ever built wi stane;He built Lord Wearie's castle,but payment got he nane.

2'O pay me, Lord Wearie,come, pay me my fee:''I canna pay you, Lamkin,for I maun gang oer the sea.'

3'O pay me now, Lord Wearie,come, pay me out o hand:''I canna pay you, Lamkin,unless I sell my land.'

4'O gin ye winna pay me,I here sall mak a vow,Before that ye come hame again,ye sall hae cause to rue.'

5Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,to sail the saut sea faem;Bade his lady weel the castle keep,ay till he should come hame.

6But the nourice was a fause limmeras eer hung on a tree;She laid a plot wi Lamkin,whan her lord was oer the sea.

7She laid a plot wi Lamkin,when the servants were awa,Loot him in at a little shot-window,and brought him to the ha.

8'O whare's a' the men o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the barn-well thrashing;'twill be lang ere they come in.'

9And whare's the women o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the far well washing;'twill be lang ere they come in.'

10'And whare's the bairns o this house,that ca me Lamkin?''They're at the school reading;'twill be night or they come hame.'

11'O whare's the lady o this house,that ca's me Lamkin?''She's up in her bower sewing,but we soon can bring her down.'

12Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife,that hang down by his gaire,And he has gien the bonny babea deep wound and a sair.

13Then Lamkin he rocked,and the fause nourice sang,Till frae ilkae bore o the cradlethe red blood out sprang.

14Then out it spak the lady,as she stood on the stair:'What ails my bairn, nourice,that he's greeting sae sair?

15'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the pap!''He winna still, lady,for this nor for that.'

16'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the wand!''He winna still, lady,for a' his father's land.'

17'O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi the bell!''He winna still, lady,till ye come down yoursel.'

18O the firsten step she steppit,she steppit on a stane;But the neisten step she steppit,she met him Lamkin.

19'O mercy, mercy, Lamkin,hae mercy upon me!Though you've taen my young son's life,ye may let mysel be.'

20'O sall I kill her, nourice,or sall I lat her be?''O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,for she neer was good to me.'

21'O scour the bason, nourice,and mak it fair and clean,For to keep this lady's heart's blood,for she's come o noble kin.'

22'There need nae bason, Lamkin,lat it run through the floor;What better is the heart's bloodo the rich than o the poor?'

23But ere three months were at an end,Lord Wearie came again;But dowie, dowie was his heartwhen first he came hame.

24'O wha's blood is this,' he says,'that lies in the chamer?''It is your lady's heart's blood;'tis as clear as the lamer.'

25'And wha's blood is this,' he says,'that lies in my ha?''It is your young son's heart's blood;'tis the clearest ava.'

26O sweetly sang the black-birdthat sat upon the tree;But sairer grat Lamkin,when he was condemnd to die.

27And bonny sang the mavis,out o the thorny brake;But sairer grat the nourice,when she was tied to the stake.

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