'If any of you should get back to land,And my foster-mother ask for me,Tell her I'm serving in the king's court,And living right merrily.'If any of you should get back to land,And my true-love ask for me,Bid her to marry another man,For I am under the sea.'[13]
'If any of you should get back to land,And my foster-mother ask for me,Tell her I'm serving in the king's court,And living right merrily.
'If any of you should get back to land,And my true-love ask for me,Bid her to marry another man,For I am under the sea.'[13]
In SwedishC,D, DanishC, they throw Peter over, on the larboard in the first, and the ship resumes her course; in SwedishD,F, he wraps a cloak round him and jumps in himself; in SwedishAthe ship goes down. In DanishBJon Rimaardssøn binds three bags about him, saying, He shall never die poor that will bury my body.[14]It was a sad sight to see when he made a cross on the blue wave, and so took the wild path that lay to the sea's deep bottom. Sir Peter, in DanishA, made this cross and was ready to take this path; but when he reached the water the wild sea turned to green earth.
Sir Peter took horse, the ship held her course,So glad they coasted the strand;And very glad was his true-love tooThat he had come to land.[15]
Sir Peter took horse, the ship held her course,So glad they coasted the strand;And very glad was his true-love tooThat he had come to land.[15]
No explanation is offered of this marvel. In the light of the Scottish ballad, we should suppose that Sir Peter's deliverance in DanishAwas all for the fair confession he made upon the sea.[16]
Saxo relates that, in the earlier part of Thorkill's marvellous voyage, the crews of his three ships, when reduced almost to starving, coming upon an island well stocked with herds, would not heed the warning of their commander, that if they took more than sufficed to mitigate their immediate sufferings they might be estopped from proceeding by the local divinities, but loaded the vessels with carcasses. During the night which followed,the ships were beset by a crowd of monsters, the biggest of whom advanced into the water, armed with a huge club, and called out to the seafarers that they would not be allowed to sail off till they had expiated the offence they had committed by delivering up one man for each ship. Thorkill, for the general safety, surrendered three men, selected by lot, after which they had a good wind and sailed on. BookVIII; p. 161, ed. 1644.
King Half on his way home from a warlike expedition encountered so violent a storm that his ship was nigh to foundering. A resolution was taken that lots should be cast to determine who should jump overboard. But no lots were needed, says the saga (implying, by the way, that a vicarious atonement was sufficient), for the men vied with one another who should go overboard for his comrade. Fornaldar Sögur, Rafn, II, 37 f.[17]
A very pretty Little-Russianduma, or ballad, also shows the efficacy of confession in such a crisis: 'The Storm on the Black Sea,' Maksimovitch, Songs of Ukraine, p. 14, Moscow, 1834, p. 48, Kief, 1849; translated by Bodenstedt, Die poetische Ukraine, p. 118. The Cossack flotilla has been divided by a storm on the Black Sea, and two portions of it have gone to wreck. In the third sails the hetman. He walks his deck in sombre composure, and says to the sailors, Some offence has been done, and this makes the sea so wild: confess then your sins to God, to the Black Sea, and to me your hetman; the guilty man shall die, and the fleet of the Cossacks not perish. The Cossacks stand silent, for no one knows who is guilty, when lo, Alexis, son of the priest of Piriatin, steps forth and says, Let me be the sacrifice; bind a cloth round my eyes, a stone about my neck, and throw me in; so shall the fleet of the Cossacks not perish. The men are astounded: how can a heavy sin be resting on Alexis, who reads them the sacred books, whose example has kept them from wickedness! Alexis left home, he says, without asking his father's and mother's blessing, and with an angry threat against his brother; he wrenched the last crust of bread from his neighbors; he rode along the street wantonly spurning the breasts of women and the foreheads of children; he passed churches without uncovering, without crossing himself: and now he must die for his sins. As he makes this shrift the storm begins to abate; to the amazement of the Cossacks, the fleet is saved, and not one man drowned.
The rich merchant Sadko, the very entertaining hero of several Russian popular epics, is nowhere more entertaining than when, during one of his voyages, his ship comes to a stop in the sea. He thinks he has run upon a rock or sand-bank, and tries to push off, but the vessel is immovable. Twelve years we have been sailing, says Sadko, and never paid tribute to the king of the sea. A box of gold is thrown in as a peace-offering, but floats like a duck. It is clear that the sea-king wants no toll; he requires a man. Every man is ordered to make a lot from pine-wood and write his name on it. These lots are thrown into the sea. Every one of them swims like a duck but Sadko's, and his goes down like a stone. That is not the proper wood for a lot, says Sadko: make lots of fir-wood. Fir lots are tried: Sadko's goes down like a stone, the rest swim like ducks. Fir is not right, either; alder, oak, are tried with the same result. We are quite wrong, says Sadko; we must take cypress, for cypress was the wood of the cross. They try cypress, and still Sadko's lot sinks, while all the others float. I am the man, says Sadko. He orders his men to get for him an oblation of silver, gold, and pearls, and with this, taking an image of St Nicholas in one hand and his gusli in the other, commits himself to the sea, and goes down like a stone. But not to drown. It was quite worth his while for the rare adventures that followed.[18]
The casting of lots to find out the guilty man who causes trouble to a ship occurs in William Guiseman, Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 156, Kinloch MSS, V, 43, a copy, improved by tradition, of the "lament" in 'William Grismond's Downfal,' a broadside of 1650, which is transcribed among the Percy papers, from Ballard's collection.
Captain Glen is thrown overboard without a lot, on the accusation of the boatswain, and with the happiest effect; broadside in the Roxburghe collection, Logan's Pedlar's Pack, p. 47, Kinloch MSS, V, 278.
Translated by Gerhard, p. 66, Knortz, L. u. R. Altenglands, p. 155, No 40. SwedishAby the Howitts, Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, I, 276; DanishBby Prior, II, 227.
1It fell upon a WodensdayBrown Robyn's men went to sea,But they saw neither moon nor sun,Nor starlight wi their ee.2'We'll cast kevels us amang,See wha the unhappy man may be;'The kevel fell on Brown Robyn,The master-man was he.3'It is nae wonder,' said Brown Robyn,'Altho I dinna thrive,For wi my mither I had twa bairns,And wi my sister five.4'But tie me to a plank o wude,And throw me in the sea;And if I sink, ye may bid me sink,But if I swim, just lat me bee.'5They've tyed him to a plank o wude,And thrown him in the sea;He didna sink, tho they bade him sink;He swimd, and they bade lat him bee.6He hadna been into the seaAn hour but barely three,Till by it came Our Blessed Lady,Her dear young son her wi.7'Will ye gang to your men again,Or will ye gang wi me?Will ye gang to the high heavens,Wi my dear son and me?'8'I winna gang to my men again,For they would be feared at mee;But I woud gang to the high heavens,Wi thy dear son and thee.'9'It's for nae honour ye did to me, Brown Robyn,It's for nae guid ye did to mee;But a' is for your fair confessionYou've made upon the sea.'
1It fell upon a WodensdayBrown Robyn's men went to sea,But they saw neither moon nor sun,Nor starlight wi their ee.
2'We'll cast kevels us amang,See wha the unhappy man may be;'The kevel fell on Brown Robyn,The master-man was he.
3'It is nae wonder,' said Brown Robyn,'Altho I dinna thrive,For wi my mither I had twa bairns,And wi my sister five.
4'But tie me to a plank o wude,And throw me in the sea;And if I sink, ye may bid me sink,But if I swim, just lat me bee.'
5They've tyed him to a plank o wude,And thrown him in the sea;He didna sink, tho they bade him sink;He swimd, and they bade lat him bee.
6He hadna been into the seaAn hour but barely three,Till by it came Our Blessed Lady,Her dear young son her wi.
7'Will ye gang to your men again,Or will ye gang wi me?Will ye gang to the high heavens,Wi my dear son and me?'
8'I winna gang to my men again,For they would be feared at mee;But I woud gang to the high heavens,Wi thy dear son and thee.'
9'It's for nae honour ye did to me, Brown Robyn,It's for nae guid ye did to mee;But a' is for your fair confessionYou've made upon the sea.'
44. if I sink.
44. if I sink.
FOOTNOTES:[10]DanishBbegins very like 'Sir Patrick Spens.' A skeely skipper Haagen eyes the sky and tells his master that any one who sails to-day will never come back alive, etc.[11]In DanishAthe ship is stopped by a sea-troll that lay on the bottom. The helmsman crying out, Why does not the ship sail? the troll replies, You have a sinful man among you; throw him over. It certainly looks officious of a heathen troll to be arresting sinners. See also 'Germand Gladensvend, Grundtvig, No 33, and the corresponding 'Sætrölls kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 5.Hysmine is selected by lot and thrown over, in a storm, "according to sailor's custom," in the Greek romance of Hysmine and Hysminias,VII, 12, 15.Serpents (nâgas) stop a ship in mid ocean and demand that a certain holy man whose instructions they desire shall be delivered to them; when the holy man has thrown himself in, the vessel is free to move: Burnouf, Introduction à l'Histoire du Buddhisme indien, p. 316 f. (Rambaud, La Russie Épique, pp 175 f, 178 f.)[12]A resemblance to Jonah, but a circumstance not unlikely to be found in any such story. In DanishC, Kristensen, I, 16, after the skipper and steersman have informed Peter that he is to be thrown overboard, they suggest the confession which he elsewhere makes unprompted. So Joshua to Achan, Joshua vii, 19, and Saul to Jonathan, 1 Samuel xiv, 43, in a similar emergency.[13]These touching verses, which are of a kind found elsewhere in ballads (see 'The Twa Brothers,' I, 436 f), are preceded by a vow in SwedishA, and the same vow ends SwedishE:'And if God would but help me,That I might come to some land,So surely would I build a churchAll on the snow-white sand.'And if I might but come to some town,And God would so much stead,So surely would I build a church,And roof it over with lead.'Slavic examples of these affecting messages are found in Roger, No 141, p. 80=Konopka, No 14, p. 114; Woicicki, Pieśńi, I, 76, II, 328, W. z Oleska, p. 507, No 27; Zegota Pauli, P. l. polskiego, p. 97, No 9, Lipiński, p. 90, No 47; Kolberg, No 16, pp 196-205,c,d,l,m,p,s,x; Kozlowski, p. 43, No 8; Sakarof, Pyesni, IV, 8. See also 'Mary Hamilton,' further on.[14]Lord Howard throws Sir Andrew Barton's body over the hatchbord into the sea,And about his middle three hundred crowns;'Wherever thou land, this will bury thee!'[15]Herre Peder han red, og skibet det skred,De fulgte så glade hit strand;Så glad da var hans fæstemøAt han var kommen til land.[16]The importance of confession for the soul's welfare is recognized by Jon Rimaardssøn.'Now would I render thanks for his graceTo bountiful Christ in heaven,For in great peril my soul had beenHad I gone hence unshriven.'[17]Cited by Dr Prior, Ancient Danish Ballads, II, 227, as also Saxo.[18]Rybnikof, Pěsni, III, 241-48, No 41, reprinted in Kiryeevski, V, 34-41. Other versions in Rybnikof, I, 363-80, Nos 61-64, III, 248 f, No 42; Hilferding, Onezhskiya Byliny, No 70, coll 384-99, No 146, coll 738-40, No 174, coll 877-80; Kirsha Danilof, ed. Kalaidovitch, 1878, No 26, pp 182-87, Kiryeevski, V, 47-55, and No 44, pp 234-39, Kiryeevski, V, 41-47. (I owe this note to Dr Theodor Vetter.) There is much variety in the details, as might be expected. In Kirsha Danilof, No 44, Sadko's lot is a feather, the others of cork. He whose lot floats is a righteous soul; he whose lot sinks is to be thrown overboard. All the lots swim like ducks but Sadko's. Now make lots out of twigs, says Sadko, and he whose lot sinks is a righteous soul. Sadko's lot is some forty pounds of metal, and his the only one that floats.
[10]DanishBbegins very like 'Sir Patrick Spens.' A skeely skipper Haagen eyes the sky and tells his master that any one who sails to-day will never come back alive, etc.
[10]DanishBbegins very like 'Sir Patrick Spens.' A skeely skipper Haagen eyes the sky and tells his master that any one who sails to-day will never come back alive, etc.
[11]In DanishAthe ship is stopped by a sea-troll that lay on the bottom. The helmsman crying out, Why does not the ship sail? the troll replies, You have a sinful man among you; throw him over. It certainly looks officious of a heathen troll to be arresting sinners. See also 'Germand Gladensvend, Grundtvig, No 33, and the corresponding 'Sætrölls kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 5.Hysmine is selected by lot and thrown over, in a storm, "according to sailor's custom," in the Greek romance of Hysmine and Hysminias,VII, 12, 15.Serpents (nâgas) stop a ship in mid ocean and demand that a certain holy man whose instructions they desire shall be delivered to them; when the holy man has thrown himself in, the vessel is free to move: Burnouf, Introduction à l'Histoire du Buddhisme indien, p. 316 f. (Rambaud, La Russie Épique, pp 175 f, 178 f.)
[11]In DanishAthe ship is stopped by a sea-troll that lay on the bottom. The helmsman crying out, Why does not the ship sail? the troll replies, You have a sinful man among you; throw him over. It certainly looks officious of a heathen troll to be arresting sinners. See also 'Germand Gladensvend, Grundtvig, No 33, and the corresponding 'Sætrölls kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 5.
Hysmine is selected by lot and thrown over, in a storm, "according to sailor's custom," in the Greek romance of Hysmine and Hysminias,VII, 12, 15.
Serpents (nâgas) stop a ship in mid ocean and demand that a certain holy man whose instructions they desire shall be delivered to them; when the holy man has thrown himself in, the vessel is free to move: Burnouf, Introduction à l'Histoire du Buddhisme indien, p. 316 f. (Rambaud, La Russie Épique, pp 175 f, 178 f.)
[12]A resemblance to Jonah, but a circumstance not unlikely to be found in any such story. In DanishC, Kristensen, I, 16, after the skipper and steersman have informed Peter that he is to be thrown overboard, they suggest the confession which he elsewhere makes unprompted. So Joshua to Achan, Joshua vii, 19, and Saul to Jonathan, 1 Samuel xiv, 43, in a similar emergency.
[12]A resemblance to Jonah, but a circumstance not unlikely to be found in any such story. In DanishC, Kristensen, I, 16, after the skipper and steersman have informed Peter that he is to be thrown overboard, they suggest the confession which he elsewhere makes unprompted. So Joshua to Achan, Joshua vii, 19, and Saul to Jonathan, 1 Samuel xiv, 43, in a similar emergency.
[13]These touching verses, which are of a kind found elsewhere in ballads (see 'The Twa Brothers,' I, 436 f), are preceded by a vow in SwedishA, and the same vow ends SwedishE:'And if God would but help me,That I might come to some land,So surely would I build a churchAll on the snow-white sand.'And if I might but come to some town,And God would so much stead,So surely would I build a church,And roof it over with lead.'Slavic examples of these affecting messages are found in Roger, No 141, p. 80=Konopka, No 14, p. 114; Woicicki, Pieśńi, I, 76, II, 328, W. z Oleska, p. 507, No 27; Zegota Pauli, P. l. polskiego, p. 97, No 9, Lipiński, p. 90, No 47; Kolberg, No 16, pp 196-205,c,d,l,m,p,s,x; Kozlowski, p. 43, No 8; Sakarof, Pyesni, IV, 8. See also 'Mary Hamilton,' further on.
[13]These touching verses, which are of a kind found elsewhere in ballads (see 'The Twa Brothers,' I, 436 f), are preceded by a vow in SwedishA, and the same vow ends SwedishE:
'And if God would but help me,That I might come to some land,So surely would I build a churchAll on the snow-white sand.'And if I might but come to some town,And God would so much stead,So surely would I build a church,And roof it over with lead.'
'And if God would but help me,That I might come to some land,So surely would I build a churchAll on the snow-white sand.
'And if I might but come to some town,And God would so much stead,So surely would I build a church,And roof it over with lead.'
Slavic examples of these affecting messages are found in Roger, No 141, p. 80=Konopka, No 14, p. 114; Woicicki, Pieśńi, I, 76, II, 328, W. z Oleska, p. 507, No 27; Zegota Pauli, P. l. polskiego, p. 97, No 9, Lipiński, p. 90, No 47; Kolberg, No 16, pp 196-205,c,d,l,m,p,s,x; Kozlowski, p. 43, No 8; Sakarof, Pyesni, IV, 8. See also 'Mary Hamilton,' further on.
[14]Lord Howard throws Sir Andrew Barton's body over the hatchbord into the sea,And about his middle three hundred crowns;'Wherever thou land, this will bury thee!'
[14]Lord Howard throws Sir Andrew Barton's body over the hatchbord into the sea,
And about his middle three hundred crowns;'Wherever thou land, this will bury thee!'
And about his middle three hundred crowns;'Wherever thou land, this will bury thee!'
[15]Herre Peder han red, og skibet det skred,De fulgte så glade hit strand;Så glad da var hans fæstemøAt han var kommen til land.
[15]
Herre Peder han red, og skibet det skred,De fulgte så glade hit strand;Så glad da var hans fæstemøAt han var kommen til land.
Herre Peder han red, og skibet det skred,De fulgte så glade hit strand;Så glad da var hans fæstemøAt han var kommen til land.
[16]The importance of confession for the soul's welfare is recognized by Jon Rimaardssøn.'Now would I render thanks for his graceTo bountiful Christ in heaven,For in great peril my soul had beenHad I gone hence unshriven.'
[16]The importance of confession for the soul's welfare is recognized by Jon Rimaardssøn.
'Now would I render thanks for his graceTo bountiful Christ in heaven,For in great peril my soul had beenHad I gone hence unshriven.'
'Now would I render thanks for his graceTo bountiful Christ in heaven,For in great peril my soul had beenHad I gone hence unshriven.'
[17]Cited by Dr Prior, Ancient Danish Ballads, II, 227, as also Saxo.
[17]Cited by Dr Prior, Ancient Danish Ballads, II, 227, as also Saxo.
[18]Rybnikof, Pěsni, III, 241-48, No 41, reprinted in Kiryeevski, V, 34-41. Other versions in Rybnikof, I, 363-80, Nos 61-64, III, 248 f, No 42; Hilferding, Onezhskiya Byliny, No 70, coll 384-99, No 146, coll 738-40, No 174, coll 877-80; Kirsha Danilof, ed. Kalaidovitch, 1878, No 26, pp 182-87, Kiryeevski, V, 47-55, and No 44, pp 234-39, Kiryeevski, V, 41-47. (I owe this note to Dr Theodor Vetter.) There is much variety in the details, as might be expected. In Kirsha Danilof, No 44, Sadko's lot is a feather, the others of cork. He whose lot floats is a righteous soul; he whose lot sinks is to be thrown overboard. All the lots swim like ducks but Sadko's. Now make lots out of twigs, says Sadko, and he whose lot sinks is a righteous soul. Sadko's lot is some forty pounds of metal, and his the only one that floats.
[18]Rybnikof, Pěsni, III, 241-48, No 41, reprinted in Kiryeevski, V, 34-41. Other versions in Rybnikof, I, 363-80, Nos 61-64, III, 248 f, No 42; Hilferding, Onezhskiya Byliny, No 70, coll 384-99, No 146, coll 738-40, No 174, coll 877-80; Kirsha Danilof, ed. Kalaidovitch, 1878, No 26, pp 182-87, Kiryeevski, V, 47-55, and No 44, pp 234-39, Kiryeevski, V, 41-47. (I owe this note to Dr Theodor Vetter.) There is much variety in the details, as might be expected. In Kirsha Danilof, No 44, Sadko's lot is a feather, the others of cork. He whose lot floats is a righteous soul; he whose lot sinks is to be thrown overboard. All the lots swim like ducks but Sadko's. Now make lots out of twigs, says Sadko, and he whose lot sinks is a righteous soul. Sadko's lot is some forty pounds of metal, and his the only one that floats.
A. a.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Percy's Reliques, 1765, I, 71.b.'Sir Andrew Wood,' Herd's Scots Songs, 1769, p. 243. 11 stanzas.B.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Herd's MSS, II, 27, I, 49. 16 stanzas.C.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Motherwell's MS., p. 493. 20 stanzas.D.'Sir Andro Wood,' Motherwell's MS., p. 496. 8 stanzas.E.'Young Patrick,' Motherwell's MS., p. 348. 16 stanzas.F.'Skipper Patrick,' Motherwell's MS., p. 153. 14 stanzas.G.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 157. 17 stanzas.H.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 64, ed. 1803. 29 stanzas.I.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 1; Motherwell's MS., p. 550. 29 stanzas.J.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Harris MS., fol. 4. 24 stanzas.K.'Sir Patrick Spens,' communicated by Mr Murison. 14 stanzas.L.'Sir Patrick,' Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 6, Motherwell's MS., p. 156. 5 stanzas.M.Buchan's Gleanings, p. 196. 4 stanzas.N.'Earl Patricke Spensse,' Dr J. Robertson's Adversaria, p. 67. 4 stanzas.O.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Gibb MS., p. 63. 3 stanzas.P.'Earl Patrick Graham,' Kinloch MSS, I, 281. 4 stanzas.Q.Finlay's Scottish Ballads, I, xiv. 2 stanzas.R.'Sir Patrick Spence,' communicated by Mr Macmath. 1 stanza.
A. a.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Percy's Reliques, 1765, I, 71.b.'Sir Andrew Wood,' Herd's Scots Songs, 1769, p. 243. 11 stanzas.
B.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Herd's MSS, II, 27, I, 49. 16 stanzas.
C.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Motherwell's MS., p. 493. 20 stanzas.
D.'Sir Andro Wood,' Motherwell's MS., p. 496. 8 stanzas.
E.'Young Patrick,' Motherwell's MS., p. 348. 16 stanzas.
F.'Skipper Patrick,' Motherwell's MS., p. 153. 14 stanzas.
G.'Sir Patrick Spence,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 157. 17 stanzas.
H.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 64, ed. 1803. 29 stanzas.
I.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 1; Motherwell's MS., p. 550. 29 stanzas.
J.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Harris MS., fol. 4. 24 stanzas.
K.'Sir Patrick Spens,' communicated by Mr Murison. 14 stanzas.
L.'Sir Patrick,' Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 6, Motherwell's MS., p. 156. 5 stanzas.
M.Buchan's Gleanings, p. 196. 4 stanzas.
N.'Earl Patricke Spensse,' Dr J. Robertson's Adversaria, p. 67. 4 stanzas.
O.'Sir Patrick Spens,' Gibb MS., p. 63. 3 stanzas.
P.'Earl Patrick Graham,' Kinloch MSS, I, 281. 4 stanzas.
Q.Finlay's Scottish Ballads, I, xiv. 2 stanzas.
R.'Sir Patrick Spence,' communicated by Mr Macmath. 1 stanza.
Stanzas ofEand ofL, a little altered, are given by Motherwell in his Introduction, pp xlv, xlvi. The ballad in the Border Minstrelsy,H, was made up from two versions, the better of which wasG, and five stanzas, 16-20, recited by Mr Hamilton, sheriff of Lanarkshire. Mr Hamilton is said to have got his fragment "from an old nurse, a retainer of the Gilkerscleugh family," when himself a boy, about the middle of the last century.[19]The copy in Finlay's Scottish Ballads, I, 49, is Scott's, with the last stanza exchanged for the last ofA, and one or two trifling changes. The imperfect copiesK, stanzas 6-10,M1, 3, show admixture with the more modern ballad of 'Young Allan.'L1, with variations, is found in 'Fair Annie of Lochroyan,' Herd, 1776, I, 150, and may not belong here. But ballad-ships are wont to be of equal splendor with Cleopatra's galley: see, for a first-rate, the Scandinavian 'Sir Peter's Voyage,' cited in the preface to 'Brown Robyn's Confession.'[20]
This admired and most admirable ballad isone of many which were first made known to the world through Percy's Reliques. Percy's version remains, poetically, the best. It may be a fragment, but the imagination easily supplies all that may be wanting; and if more of the story, or the whole, be told inH, the half is better than the whole.
The short and simple story inA-Fis that the king wants a good sailor to take command of a ship or ships ready for sea. Sir Patrick Spens[21]is recommended, and the king sends him a commission. This good sailor is much elated by receiving a letter from the king, but the contents prove very unwelcome.[22]He would hang the man that praised his seamanship, if he knew him,B; though it had been the queen herself, she might have let it be,F; had he been a better man, he might ha tauld a lee,D. The objection, as we learn fromA5,C5, is the bad time of year. Percy cites a law of James III, forbidding ships to be freighted out of the realm with staple goods between the feast of Simon and Jude and Candlemas, October 28-February 2. There is neither choice nor thought, but prompt obedience to orders. The ship must sail the morn, and this without regard to the fearful portent of the new moon having been seenlateyestreen with the auld moon in her arm. They are only a few leagues out when a furious storm sets in. The captain calls for a boy to take the steer in hand while he goes to the topmast to spy land,B; or, more sensibly, sends up the boy, and sticks to the rudder,C,E. The report is not encouraging, or is not waited for, for the sea has everything its own way, and now the nobles, who were loath to wet their shoes, are overhead in water, and now fifty fathoms under. It would be hard to point out in ballad poetry, or other, happier and more refined touches than the two stanzas inAwhich portray the bootless waiting of the ladies for the return of the seafarers.[23]
InG-Jwe meet with additional circumstances. The destination of the ship is Norway. The object of the voyage is not told inG; inHit is to bring home the king of Norway's daughter; inJto bring home the Scottish king's daughter; inIto take out the Scottish king's daughter to Norway, where she is to be queen. The Scots make the passage in two days, or three,G,H,I. After a time the Norwegians begin to complain of the expense caused by their guests,G,H; or reproach the Scots with staying too long, to their own king's cost,I. Sir Patrick tells them that he brought money enough to pay for himself and his men, and says that nothing shall induce him to stay another day in the country. It is now that we have the omen of the new moon with the old moon in her arm, inG,H. InIthis comes before the voyage to Norway,[24]and inGthe stanza expressing apprehension of a storm, without the reason, occurs twice,[25]before the voyage out as well as before the return voyage. InJ, as inA-F, the ship is lost on the voyage out. InG, therefore, andIas well, two different accounts may have been blended.
Whether there is an historical basis for the shipwreck of Scottish nobles which this ballad sings, and, if so, where it is to be found,are questions that have been considerably discussed. A strict accordance with history should not be expected, and indeed would be almost a ground of suspicion.[26]Ballad singers and their hearers would be as indifferent to the facts as the readers of ballads are now; it is only editors who feel bound to look closely into such matters. Motherwell has suggested a sufficiently plausible foundation. Margaret, daughter of Alexander III, was married, in 1281, to Eric, King of Norway. She was conducted to her husband, "brought home," in August of that year, by many knights and nobles. Many of these were drowned on the return voyage,[27]as Sir Patrick Spens is inG,H,I.
Margaret, Eric's queen, died in 1283, leaving a newly born daughter; and Alexander III, having been killed by being thrown from his horse, in 1286, the crown fell to the granddaughter. A match was proposed between the infant Margaret, called the Maid of Norway, and the eldest son of Edward I of England. A deputation, not so splendid as the train which accompanied the little maid's mother to Norway, was sent, in 1290, to bring the Princess Margaret over, but she died on the way before reaching Scotland. The Scalacronica speaks of only a single envoy, Master Weland, a Scottish clerk. If "the chronicle will not lie," the Maid of Norway and the Scottish clerk perished, we must suppose in a storm, on the coasts of Boghan[28](Buchan?). This is not quite enough to make the ballad out of, and there is still less material in the marriage of James III with the daughter of the king of Norway in 1469, and no shipwreck chronicled at all.
No such name as Patrick Spens is historically connected with any of these occurrences. Spens has even been said not to be an early Scottish name. Aytoun, however, points to a notable exploit by one Spens as early as 1336, and Mr Macmath has shown me that the name occurred in five charters of David II, therefore between 1329 and 1370. We might allege that Spens, though called Sir Patrick in later days, was in reality only a skeely skipper,[29]and that historians do not trouble themselves much about skippers. But this would be avoiding the proper issue. The actual name of the hero of a ballad affords hardly a presumption as to who was originally the hero. This ballad may be historical, or it may not. It might be substantially historical though the command of the ship were invariably given to Sir Andrew Wood, a distinguished admiral, who was born a couple of centuries after the supposed event; and it might be substantially historical though we could prove that Patrick Spens was only a shipmaster, of purely local fame, who was lost off Aberdour a couple of hundred years ago. For one, I do not feel compelled to regard the ballad as historical.
A mermaid appears to the navigators inJ,L,P,Q, and informs them,J, that they will never see dry land, or are not far from land,L,P,Q, which, coming from a mermaid, they are good seamen enough to know means the same thing. The appearance of a mermaid to seamen is a signal for despair in a brief little ballad, of no great antiquity to all seeming, given further on under the title of 'The Mermaid.' If nothing worse, mermaids at least bode rough weather, and sailors do not like to see them: Faye, Norske Folke-Sagn, ed. 1844, p. 55 (Prior). They have a reputation for treachery: there is in a Danish ballad, Grundtvig, II, 91, No 42,B14, one who has betrayed seven ships.
The place where the ship went down was half owre to Aberdour,A,C,F?; ower by Aberdour,I,J,N; forty miles off Aberdeen,G,H(Hmay only repeatG); nore-east, nore-west frae Aberdeen,D; between Leith and Aberdeen,K.BandEtransfer the scene to St Johnston (Perth), andPto the Clyde, down below Dumbarton Castle. We may fairly say, somewhere off the coast of Aberdeenshire, for the southern Aberdour, in the Firth of Forth, cannot be meant.
The island of Papa Stronsay is said to be about half way between Aberdour in Buchan and the coast of Norway, half owre to Aberdour; and on this island there is a tumulus, which Mr Maidment informs us is known now, andhas always beenknown, as the grave of Sir Patrick Spens. Nothing more has been transmitted, we are assured, but only the name as that of a man buried there: Maidment, Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and Traditionary, I, 31 f. "The Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, a Scandinavian country," says Aytoun, "so it is very unlikely that the poem could have originated the name." With regard to this Orcadian grave of Patrick Spens, it may first be remarked that Barry, who, in 1808, speaks of the Earl's Knowe in Papa Stronsay, says not a word of the tradition now affirmed to be of indefinite long-standing (neither does Tudor in 1883). The ballad has been in print for a hundred and twenty years. There are Scots in the island now, and perhaps there "always" have been; at any rate, a generation or two is time enough for a story to strike root and establish itself as tradition.[30]
A ais translated by Herder, Volkslieder, I, 89, Bodmer, I, 56, Döring, p. 157, Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, No 16, 1;G, by Loève-Veimars, p. 340;H, by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 2, Schubart, p. 203, Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 60, Fiedler, Geschichte der schottischen Liederdichtung, I, 13;I, by Gerhard, p. 1. Aytoun's ballad, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, No 16, 2.
a.Percy's Reliques, 1765, I, 71: "given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland."b.Herd's Scots Songs, 1769, p. 243.
a.Percy's Reliques, 1765, I, 71: "given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland."b.Herd's Scots Songs, 1769, p. 243.
1The king sits in Dumferling toune,Drinking the blude-reid wine:'O whar will I get guid sailor,To sail this schip of mine?'2Up and spak an eldern knicht,Sat at the kings richt kne:'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailorThat sails upon the se.'3The king has written a braid letter,And signd it wi his hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,Was walking on the sand.4The first line that Sir Patrick red,A loud lauch lauched he;The next line that Sir Patrick red,The teir blinded his ee.5'O wha is this has don this deid,This ill deid don to me,To send me out this time o' the yeir,To sail upon the se!6'Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,Our guid schip sails the morne:''O say na sae, my master deir,For I feir a deadlie storme.7'Late late yestreen I saw the new moone,Wi the auld moone in hir arme,And I feir, I feir, my deir master,That we will cum to harme.'8O our Scots nobles wer richt laithTo weet their cork-heild schoone;Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,Thair hats they swam aboone.9O lang, lang may their ladies sit,Wi thair fans into their hand,Or eir they se Sir Patrick SpenceCum sailing to the land.10O lang, lang may the ladies stand,Wi thair gold kems in their hair,Waiting for thair ain deir lords,For they'll se thame na mair.11Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,It's fiftie fadom deip,And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,Wi the Scots lords at his feit.
1The king sits in Dumferling toune,Drinking the blude-reid wine:'O whar will I get guid sailor,To sail this schip of mine?'
2Up and spak an eldern knicht,Sat at the kings richt kne:'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailorThat sails upon the se.'
3The king has written a braid letter,And signd it wi his hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,Was walking on the sand.
4The first line that Sir Patrick red,A loud lauch lauched he;The next line that Sir Patrick red,The teir blinded his ee.
5'O wha is this has don this deid,This ill deid don to me,To send me out this time o' the yeir,To sail upon the se!
6'Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,Our guid schip sails the morne:''O say na sae, my master deir,For I feir a deadlie storme.
7'Late late yestreen I saw the new moone,Wi the auld moone in hir arme,And I feir, I feir, my deir master,That we will cum to harme.'
8O our Scots nobles wer richt laithTo weet their cork-heild schoone;Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,Thair hats they swam aboone.
9O lang, lang may their ladies sit,Wi thair fans into their hand,Or eir they se Sir Patrick SpenceCum sailing to the land.
10O lang, lang may the ladies stand,Wi thair gold kems in their hair,Waiting for thair ain deir lords,For they'll se thame na mair.
11Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,It's fiftie fadom deip,And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,Wi the Scots lords at his feit.
Herd's MSS., II, 27, I, 49.
Herd's MSS., II, 27, I, 49.
1The king he sits in Dumferling,Drinking the blude reid wine: O'O where will I get a gude sailor,That'l sail the ships o mine?' O2Up then started a yallow-haird man,Just be the kings right knee:'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailorThat ever saild the see.'3Then the king he wrote a lang letter,And sealld it with his hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,That was lyand at Leith Sands.4When Patrick lookd the letter on,He gae loud laughters three;But afore he wan to the end of itThe teir blindit his ee.5'O wha is this has tald the king,Has tald the king o me?Gif I but wist the man it war,Hanged should he be.6'Come eat and drink, my merry men all,For our ships maun sail the morn;Bla'd wind, bla'd weet, bla'd sna or sleet,Our ships maun sail the morn.'7'Alake and alas now, good master,For I fear a deidly storm;For I saw the new moon late yestreen,And the auld moon in her arms.'8They had not saild upon the seaA league but merely three,When ugly, ugly were the jawsThat rowd unto their knee.9They had not saild upon the seaA league but merely nine,When wind and weit and snaw and sleitCame blawing them behind.10'Then where will I get a pretty boyWill take my steer in hand,Till I go up to my tap-mast,And see gif I see dry land?'11'Here am I, a pretty boyThat'l take your steir in hand,Till you go up to your tap-mast,And see an you see the land.'12Laith, laith were our Scottish lordsTo weit their coal-black shoon;But yet ere a' the play was playd,They wat their hats aboon.13Laith, laith war our Scottish lordsTo weit their coal-black hair;But yet ere a' the play was playd,They wat it every hair.14The water at St Johnston's wallWas fifty fathom deep,And there ly a' our Scottish lords,Sir Patrick at their feet.15Lang, lang may our ladies waitWi the tear blinding their ee,Afore they see Sir Patrick's shipsCome sailing oer the sea.16Lang, lang may our ladies wait,Wi their babies in their hands,Afore they see Sir Patrick SpenceCome sailing to Leith Sands.
1The king he sits in Dumferling,Drinking the blude reid wine: O'O where will I get a gude sailor,That'l sail the ships o mine?' O
2Up then started a yallow-haird man,Just be the kings right knee:'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailorThat ever saild the see.'
3Then the king he wrote a lang letter,And sealld it with his hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,That was lyand at Leith Sands.
4When Patrick lookd the letter on,He gae loud laughters three;But afore he wan to the end of itThe teir blindit his ee.
5'O wha is this has tald the king,Has tald the king o me?Gif I but wist the man it war,Hanged should he be.
6'Come eat and drink, my merry men all,For our ships maun sail the morn;Bla'd wind, bla'd weet, bla'd sna or sleet,Our ships maun sail the morn.'
7'Alake and alas now, good master,For I fear a deidly storm;For I saw the new moon late yestreen,And the auld moon in her arms.'
8They had not saild upon the seaA league but merely three,When ugly, ugly were the jawsThat rowd unto their knee.
9They had not saild upon the seaA league but merely nine,When wind and weit and snaw and sleitCame blawing them behind.
10'Then where will I get a pretty boyWill take my steer in hand,Till I go up to my tap-mast,And see gif I see dry land?'
11'Here am I, a pretty boyThat'l take your steir in hand,Till you go up to your tap-mast,And see an you see the land.'
12Laith, laith were our Scottish lordsTo weit their coal-black shoon;But yet ere a' the play was playd,They wat their hats aboon.
13Laith, laith war our Scottish lordsTo weit their coal-black hair;But yet ere a' the play was playd,They wat it every hair.
14The water at St Johnston's wallWas fifty fathom deep,And there ly a' our Scottish lords,Sir Patrick at their feet.
15Lang, lang may our ladies waitWi the tear blinding their ee,Afore they see Sir Patrick's shipsCome sailing oer the sea.
16Lang, lang may our ladies wait,Wi their babies in their hands,Afore they see Sir Patrick SpenceCome sailing to Leith Sands.
Motherwell's MS., p. 493, "from the recitation of —— Buchanan, alias Mrs Notman, 9 September, 1826."
Motherwell's MS., p. 493, "from the recitation of —— Buchanan, alias Mrs Notman, 9 September, 1826."
1The king sat in Dunfermline toun,Drinking the blude red wine:'Where will I get a bold sailor,To sail this ship o mine?'2Out then spak an auld auld knicht,Was nigh the king akin:'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailorThat ever sailed the main.'3The king's wrote a large letter,Sealed it with his own hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,Was walking on dry land.4The first three lines he looked on,The tears did blind his ee;The neist three lines he looked onNot one word could he see.5'Wha is this,' Sir Patrick says,'That's tauld the king o me,To set me out this time o the yearTo sail upon the sea!6'Yestreen I saw the new new mune,And the auld mune in her arm;And that is the sign since we were bornEven of a deadly storm.7'Drink about, my merry boys,For we maun sail the morn;Be it wind, or be it weet,Or be it deadly storm.'8We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only ane,Till cauld and watry grew the wind,And stormy grew the main.9We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only twa,Till cauld and watry grew the wind,Come hailing owre them a'.10We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only three,Till cold and watry grew the wind,And grumly grew the sea.11'Wha will come,' the captain says,'And take my helm in hand?Or wha'll gae up to my topmast,And look for some dry land?12'Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,See what you can spy;Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,See if any land we're nigh.'13'We're fifty miles from shore to shore,And fifty banks of sand;And we have all that for to sailOr we come to dry land.'14'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,I think you tarry lang;For the saut sea's in at our coat-neckAnd out at our left arm.15'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,I fear we here maun die;For thro and thro my goodly shipI see the green-waved sea.'16Our Scotch lords were all afraidTo weet their cork-heeled shoon;But lang or a' the play was played,Their hats they swam abune.17The first step that the captain stept,It took him to the knee,And the next step that the captain steppedThey were a' drownd in the sea.18Half owre, half owre to AberdourIt's fifty fadoms deep,And there lay good Sir Patrick Spens,And the Scotch lords at his feet.19Lang may our Scotch lords' ladies sit,And sew their silken seam,Before they see their good Scotch lordsCome sailing owre the main.20Lang lang may Sir Patrick's ladySit rocking her auld son,Before she sees Sir Patrick SpensCome sailing owre the main.
1The king sat in Dunfermline toun,Drinking the blude red wine:'Where will I get a bold sailor,To sail this ship o mine?'
2Out then spak an auld auld knicht,Was nigh the king akin:'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailorThat ever sailed the main.'
3The king's wrote a large letter,Sealed it with his own hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,Was walking on dry land.
4The first three lines he looked on,The tears did blind his ee;The neist three lines he looked onNot one word could he see.
5'Wha is this,' Sir Patrick says,'That's tauld the king o me,To set me out this time o the yearTo sail upon the sea!
6'Yestreen I saw the new new mune,And the auld mune in her arm;And that is the sign since we were bornEven of a deadly storm.
7'Drink about, my merry boys,For we maun sail the morn;Be it wind, or be it weet,Or be it deadly storm.'
8We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only ane,Till cauld and watry grew the wind,And stormy grew the main.
9We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only twa,Till cauld and watry grew the wind,Come hailing owre them a'.
10We hadna sailed a league, a league,A league but only three,Till cold and watry grew the wind,And grumly grew the sea.
11'Wha will come,' the captain says,'And take my helm in hand?Or wha'll gae up to my topmast,And look for some dry land?
12'Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,See what you can spy;Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,See if any land we're nigh.'
13'We're fifty miles from shore to shore,And fifty banks of sand;And we have all that for to sailOr we come to dry land.'
14'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,I think you tarry lang;For the saut sea's in at our coat-neckAnd out at our left arm.
15'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,I fear we here maun die;For thro and thro my goodly shipI see the green-waved sea.'
16Our Scotch lords were all afraidTo weet their cork-heeled shoon;But lang or a' the play was played,Their hats they swam abune.
17The first step that the captain stept,It took him to the knee,And the next step that the captain steppedThey were a' drownd in the sea.
18Half owre, half owre to AberdourIt's fifty fadoms deep,And there lay good Sir Patrick Spens,And the Scotch lords at his feet.
19Lang may our Scotch lords' ladies sit,And sew their silken seam,Before they see their good Scotch lordsCome sailing owre the main.
20Lang lang may Sir Patrick's ladySit rocking her auld son,Before she sees Sir Patrick SpensCome sailing owre the main.
Motherwell's MS., p. 496, communicated by Kirkpatrick Sharpe.
Motherwell's MS., p. 496, communicated by Kirkpatrick Sharpe.
1The king sits in Dumferling town,Drinking the blood red wine: O'Where will I get a good skipper,To sail seven ships o mine?' OWhere will, etc.2O up then spake a bra young man,And a bra young man was he:'Sir Andrew Wood is the best skipperThat ever saild the sea.'3The king has written a bra letter,And seald it wi his hand,And ordered Sir Andrew WoodTo come at his command.4'O wha is this, or wha is that,Has tauld the king o me?For had he been a better man,He might ha tauld a lee.'* * * * *5As I came in by the Inch, Inch, Inch,I heard an auld man weep:'Sir Andrew Wood and a' his menAre drowned in the deep!'6O lang lang may yon ladies stand,Their fans into their hands,Before they see Sir Andrew WoodCome sailing to dry land.7O laith laith were our Scottish lordsTo weit their cork-heeld shoon;But ere that a' the play was plaid,They wat their heads aboon.8Nore-east, nore-west frae AberdeenIs fifty fathom deep,And there lies good Sir Andrew Wood,And a' the Scottish fleet.
1The king sits in Dumferling town,Drinking the blood red wine: O'Where will I get a good skipper,To sail seven ships o mine?' OWhere will, etc.
2O up then spake a bra young man,And a bra young man was he:'Sir Andrew Wood is the best skipperThat ever saild the sea.'
3The king has written a bra letter,And seald it wi his hand,And ordered Sir Andrew WoodTo come at his command.
4'O wha is this, or wha is that,Has tauld the king o me?For had he been a better man,He might ha tauld a lee.'
* * * * *
5As I came in by the Inch, Inch, Inch,I heard an auld man weep:'Sir Andrew Wood and a' his menAre drowned in the deep!'
6O lang lang may yon ladies stand,Their fans into their hands,Before they see Sir Andrew WoodCome sailing to dry land.
7O laith laith were our Scottish lordsTo weit their cork-heeld shoon;But ere that a' the play was plaid,They wat their heads aboon.
8Nore-east, nore-west frae AberdeenIs fifty fathom deep,And there lies good Sir Andrew Wood,And a' the Scottish fleet.