173MARY HAMILTON

A. a.‘Marie Hamilton,’ Sharp’s Ballad Book, 1824, p. 18.b.Communicated by the late John Francis Campbell.c.Aungervyle Society’s publications, No V, p. 18.

B.‘Mary Hamilton,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 337; printed in part in Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 313 ff.

C.‘Mary Myles,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 265.

D.‘Mary Hamilton,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 267; Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 316.

E.‘Lady Maisry,’ Buchan’s MSS, II, 186; Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 190.

F.Skene MS., p. 61.

G.‘Mary Hamilton,’ MS. of Scottish Songs and Ballads copied by a granddaughter of Lord Woodhouselee, p. 51.

H.‘Mary Hamilton,’ Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 252.

I. a.‘The Queen’s Marie,’ Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 294.b.Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1802, II, 154, three stanzas.

J.‘Marie Hamilton,’ Harris MS., fol. 10 b.

K.‘The Queen’s Mary,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 96.

L.‘Mary Hamilton,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 280.

M.‘Mary Hamilton,’ Maidment’s North Countrie Garland, p. 19. Repeated in Buchan’s Gleanings, p. 164.

N.‘The Queen’s Maries,’ Murison MS., p. 33.

O.‘The Queen’s Marie,’ Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, xix.

P.Kinloch MSS, VII, 95, 97; Kinloch’s Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 252.

Q.‘Queen’s Marie,’ Letters from and to Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, ed. Allardyce, II, 272, two stanzas.

R.Burns, Letter to Mrs Dunlop, 25 January, 1790, Currie, II, 290, 1800, one stanza.

The scene is at the court of Mary Stuart,A-N,Q. The unhappy heroine is one of the queen’s Four Maries,A a18,b14,c1, 18, 23,B19,D21,F3, 12,G16,H18,I19,J8, 10,K8,M7,N1; Mary Hamilton,A a1,b2,c2,B3,D8,G1,H4,I1,J6; Lady Mary,F5, 6; Mary Mild, Myle,C5,M1,N1, alsoA c6, Moil,O, but Lady Maisry,E6. She gangs wi bairn; it is to the highest Stewart of a’,A a1,A c2,B3,C5; cf.D3,G1–3,I1–6,L9,P1. She goes to the garden to pull the leaf off the tree, in a vain hope to be free of the babe,C3; it is the savin-tree,D4, the deceivin-tree,N3, the Abbey-tree (and pulled by the king),I6.[245]She rolls the bairn in her apron, handkerchief, and throws it in the sea,A a3,A b3,A c4,C4,D5, 9,I7,K2, 4,L5 (inconsistently),O3; cf.B7. The queen asks where the babe is that she has heard greet,A a4,b4,c6,B4, 6,C6,D6, 8,E6, 7,F6,G5,H5,I9,J3,L1,M1; there is no babe, it was a stitch in the side, colic,A a5,b5,c7,B5,C7,D7,E8,F7,G6,H6,I10,J4,L2,M2; search is made and the child found in the bed, dead,E9,F9,H7,J5,L4,M4 (andA c8 inconsistently). The queen bids Mary make ready to go to Edinburgh (i. e., from Holyrood),A a6,A b6,A c10,C8,D11,E10,F12,H8,I11. The purpose is concealed inA,a,b,c, and for the best effect should be concealed, or at least simulated, as inB,D,G,I, where a wedding is the pretence, Mary Hamilton’s own wedding inD. The queen directs Mary to put on black or brown,A a6,A b6,A c10; she will not put on black or brown, but white, gold, red, to shine through Edinburgh town,A a7,A b7,A c11,B9,C9,D13,E11,H10,K6,N5,O5. When she went up the Canongate,A a8,b8,c13,L6, up the Parliament stair,A a9,b9,c14,D16, up the Tolbooth stair,C12,E14,H15,I17, came to the Netherbow Port,G10,I18,M6, she laughed loudly or lightly,A a8,b8,c13,D16,E14,G10,H15,I18,L6,M6; the heel, lap, came off her shoe,A a9,b9,c14,C12, the corks from her heels did flee,I17; but ere she came down again she was condemned to die,A a9,b9,c14,C12,D16,E14,H15,I17; but when she reached the gallows-foot,G10,I18,M6, ere she came to the Cowgate Head,L6, when she came down the Canongate,A a8,b8,c13, the tears blinded her eyes. She calls for a bottle of wine, that she may drink to her well-wishers and they may drink to her,A a12,b10,c17,B14; cf.D19, 20,G13. She adjures sailors, travellers, not to let her father and mother get wit what death she is to die,A a14,b12,c19,B15,C13,D20,F15,G13,H21,I23,L7,M8, or know but that she is coming home,A a13,b11,B16,C14,D19,E15,F16,G14,H20,I22,L8. Little did her mother think when she cradled her (brought her from home,F18) what lands she would travel and what end she would come to,A a15,c21,B17, 18,C15,D17,G15,I25,J9,N9,R; as little her father, when he held her up,A a16,c22,C16, brought her over the sea,F17. Yestreen the queen had four Maries, to-night she’ll have but three (see above); yestreen she washed Queen Mary’s feet, etc., and the gallows is her reward to-day,A a17,b13,B20,C17,G11, 12,H19,I20, 21,N8.

It is impossible to weave all the versions into an intelligible and harmonious story. InE10,F12,H8 the intention to bring Mary to trial is avowed, and inA c9,B85,6,F10,K5,M5 she is threatened with death. InD12,H9,J7,N4, the queen is made to favor, and not inhibit, gay colors. Mary may laugh when she goes up the Parliament stair, but not when she goes up the Tolbooth stair. She goes up the Canongate to the Parliament House to be tried, but she would not go down the Canongate again, the Tolbooth being in the High Street, an extension of the Canongate, and the Parliament House in the rear. The tears and alaces and ohones as Mary goes by,A a10,c15,B10,C10,D14,E12,F13,H11,I16, are a sufficiently effective incident as long as Mary is represented to be unsuspicious of her doom, as she is inD15,G9,I15, 16; but inA a11,c16,B11,C11,H12, 22, she forbids condolement, because she deserves to die for killing her babe, which reduces this passage to commonplace. Much better, if properly introduced, would be the desperate ejaculation, Seek never grace at a graceless face! which we find inE13,F14,H13,N7.

At the end ofBthe king tells Mary Hamilton to come down from the scaffold, but she scorns life after having been put to public shame. So inD, with queen for king.

InA a4,b4, 13,G5 the queen is “the auld queen,” and yet Mary Stuart.

E, from 16,F, from 19, are borrowed from No 95, ‘The Maid freed from the Gallows:’ see II, 346.G8 (andI13, taken fromG) is derived from ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,’D a11,e10,g11: see II, 187, 196, 197. The rejection of black and brown,A7,C9,D13, etc., or of green,K6, is found in the same ballad,C10,E16,F12, 15, etc.,B20.B21 is perhaps from ‘The Laird of Waristoun:’ see further on,A9,B10,C4.I12, 14 look like a souvenir of ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64.

There are not a few spurious passages. Among these are the extravagance of the queen’s bursting in the door,F8; the platitude, of menial stamp, that the child, if saved, might have been an honor to the mother,D10,L3,O4; the sentimentality ofH3, 16.

Allan Cunningham has put the essential incidents of the story into a rational order, that ofA, for example, with less than usual of his glistering and saccharine phraseology: Songs of Scotland, I, 348. Aytoun’s language is not quite definite with regard to the copy which he gives at II, 45, ed. 1859: it is, however, made up from versions previously printed.

When Mary Stuart was sent to France in 1548, she being then between five and six, she had for companions “sundry gentlewomen and noblemen’s sons and daughters, almost of her own age, of the which there were four in special of whom every one of them bore the same name of Mary, being of four sundry honorable houses, to wit, Fleming, Livingston, Seton, and Beaton of Creich; who remained all four with the queen in France during her residence there, and returned again in Scotland with her Majesty in the year of our Lord 1561:” Lesley, History of Scotland, 1830, p. 209. We still hear of the Four Maries in 1564, Calendar of State Papers (Foreign), VII, 213, 230; cited by Burton, IV, 107. The ballad substitutes Mary Hamilton and Mary Carmichael for Mary Livingston and Mary Fleming; butF3, 12 has Livingston.N, of late recitation, has Heaton for Seton and Michel for Carmichael.

D4, etc. In ‘Tam Lin,’ No 39, Janet pulls the rose to kill or scathe away her babe;A19, 20,F8,I24, 25 (probably repeated fromA). InG18, 19, the herb of 15 and the rose of 17 becomes the pile of the gravil green, or of the gravil gray; inH5, 6 Janet pulls an unspecified flower or herb (I, 341 ff).

We have had in ‘The Twa Brothers,’ No 49, a passage like that in which Mary begs sailors and travellers not to let her parents know that she is not coming home; and other ballads, Norse, Breton, Romaic, and Slavic, which present a similar trait, are noted at I, 436 f, II, 14. To these may be added Passow, p. 400, No 523; Jeannaraki, p. 116, No 118; Sakellarios, p. 98, No 31; Puymaigre, 1865, p. 62, Bujeaud, II, 210 (Liebrecht); also Guillon, p. 107, Nigra, No 27,A, B, pp. 164, 166, and many copies of ‘Le Déserteur,’ and some of ‘Le Plongeur,’ ‘La ronde du Battoir.’

Scott thought that the ballad took its risefrom an incident related by Knox as occurring in “the beginning of the regiment of Mary, Queen of Scots.” “In the very time of the General Assembly,” says Knox, “there comes to public knowledge a heinous murder committed in the court, yea, not far from the queen’s own lap; for a French woman that served in the queen’s chamber had played the whore with the queen’s own apothecary. The woman conceived and bare a child, whom, with common consent, the father and the mother murdered. Yet were the cries of a new-born bairn heard; search was made, the child and mother was both deprehended, and so were both the man and the woman damned to be hanged upon the public street of Edinburgh.”[246]“It will readily strike the reader,” says Scott, “that the tale has suffered great alterations, as handed down by tradition; the French waiting-woman being changed into Mary Hamilton, and the queen’s apothecary[247]into Henry Darnley. Yet this is less surprising when we recollect that one of the heaviest of the queen’s complaints against her ill-fated husband was his infidelity, and that even with her personal attendants.” This General Assembly, however, met December 25, 1563, and since Darnley did not come to Scotland until 1565, a tale of 1563, or of 1563–4, leaves him unscathed.

Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, in his preface toA, Ballad Book, 1824, p. 18, observes: “It is singular that during the reign of the Czar Peter, one of his empress’s attendants, a Miss Hamilton, was executed for the murder of a natural child.... I cannot help thinking that the two stories have been confused in the ballad, for if Marie Hamilton was executed in Scotland, it is not likely that her relations resided beyond seas; and we have no proof that Hamilton was really the name of the woman who made a slip with the queen’s apothecary.” Sharpe afterwards communicated details of the story[248]to Scott, who found in them “a very odd coincidence in name, crime and catastrophe;” Minstrelsy, 1833, III, 296, note. But Sharpe became convinced “that the Russian tragedy must be the original” (note in Laing’s edition of the Ballad Book, 1880, p. 129); and this opinion is the only tenable one, however surprising it may be or seem that, as late as the eighteenth century, the popular genius, helped by nothing but a name, should have been able so to fashion and color an episode in the history of a distant country as to make it fit very plausibly into the times of Mary Stuart.

The published accounts of the affair of the Russian Mary Hamilton differ to much the same degree as some versions of the Scottish ballad. The subject has fortunately been reviewed in a recent article founded on original and authentic documents.[249]

When the Hamiltons first came to Russia does not appear. Artemon Sergheievitch Matveief, a distinguished personage, minister and friend of the father of Peter the Great, married a Hamilton, of a Scottish family settled at Moscow, after which the Hamilton family ranked with the aristocracy. The name of Mary’s father, whether William or Daniel, is uncertain, but it is considered safe to say that she was niece to Andrei Artemonovitch Matveief, son of the Tsar Alexei’s friend. Mary Hamilton was createdmaid-of-honor to the Empress Catharine chiefly on account of her beauty. Many of Catharine’s attendants were foreigners; not all were of conspicuous families, but Peter required that they should all be remarkably handsome. Mary had enjoyed the special favor of the Tsar, but incurred his anger by setting afloat a report that Catharine had a habit of eating wax, which produced pimples on her face. The empress spoke to her about this slander; Mary denied that she was the author of it; Catharine boxed her ears, and she acknowledged the offence. Mary Hamilton had been having an amour with Ivan Orlof, a handsome aide-de-camp of Tsar Peter, and while she was under the displeasure of her master and mistress, the body of a child was found in a well, wrapped in a court-napkin. Orlof, being sent for by Peter on account of a missing paper, thought that his connection with Mary had been discovered, and in his confusion let words escape him which Peter put to use in tracing the origin of the child. The guilt was laid at Mary’s door; she at first denied the accusation, but afterwards made a confession, exonerating Orlof, however, from all participation in the death of the babe; and indeed it was proved that he had not even known of its birth till the information came to him in the way of court-gossip. Both were sent to the Petropaulovsk fortress, Orlof on April 4, Mary on April 10, 1718. Orlof was afterwards discharged without punishment. Mary, after being twice subjected to torture, under which she confessed to having previously destroyed two children,[250]was condemned to death November 27, 1718, and executed on March 14, 1719, the Tsar attending. She had attired herself in white silk, with black ribbons, hoping thereby to touch Peter’s heart. She fell on her knees and implored a pardon. But a law against the murder of illegitimate children had recently been promulgated afresh and in terms of extreme severity. Peter turned aside and whispered something to the executioner; those present thought he meant to show grace, but it was an order to the headsman to do his office. The Tsar picked up Mary’s head and kissed it, made a little discourse on the anatomy of it to the spectators, kissed it again, and threw it down. That beautiful head is said to have been kept in spirits for some sixty years at the Academy of Sciences in St Petersburg.

It will be observed that this adventure at the Russian court presents every material feature in the Scottish ballad, and even some subordinate ones which may or may not have been derived from report, may or may not have been the fancy-work of singers or reciters. We have the very name, Mary Hamilton; she is a maid-of-honor; she has, as some versions run, an intrigue with the king, and has a child, which she destroys; she rolls the child in a napkin and throws it into a well (rolls the child in her handkerchief, apron, and throws it in the sea); she is charged with the fact and denies; according to some versions, search is made and overwhelming proof discovered;[251]she is tried and condemned to die; she finds no grace. The appeal to sailors and travellers in the ballad shows that Mary Hamilton dies in a foreign land—not that of her ancestors. The king’s coming by inB22 (cf.D22, 23) may possibly be a reminiscence of the Tsar’s presence at the execution, and Mary’s dressing herself in white, etc., to shine through Edinburgh town a transformation of Mary’s dressing herself in white to move the Tsar’s pity at the last moment; but neither of these points need be insisted on.

There is no trace of an admixture of the Russian story with that of the French woman and the queen’s apothecary, and no ballad about the French woman is known to have existed.

We first hear of the Scottish ballad in 1790, when a stanza is quoted in a letter of Robert Burns (seeR). So far as I know, but one date can be deduced from the subject-matter of the ballad; the Netherbow Port is standing inG,I,M, and this gate was demolished in 1764. The ballad must therefore have arisen between 1719 and 1764. It is remarkable that one of the very latest of the Scottish popular ballads should be one of the very best.

I ais translated by Gerhard, p. 149; Aytoun’s ballad by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 76, No 24.

a.Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1824, p. 18.b.Communicated by the late John Francis Campbell, as learned from his father about 1840.c.Aungervyle Society’s publications, No V, p. 5 (First Series, p. 85); “taken down early in the present century from the lips of an old lady in Annandale.”

1Word’s gane to the kitchen,And word’s gane to the ha,That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairnTo the hichest Stewart of a’.2He’s courted her in the kitchen,He’s courted her in the ha,He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,And that was warst of a’.3She’s tyed it in her apronAnd she’s thrown it in the sea;Says, Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe!You’l neer get mair o me.4Down then cam the auld queen,Goud tassels tying her hair:‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babeThat I heard greet sae sair?’5‘There never was a babe intill my room,As little designs to be;It was but a touch o my sair side,Come oer my fair bodie.’6‘O Marie, put on your robes o black,Or else your robes o brown,For ye maun gang wi me the night,To see fair Edinbro town.’7‘I winna put on my robes o black,Nor yet my robes o brown;But I’ll put on my robes o white,To shine through Edinbro town.’8When she gaed up the Cannogate,She laughd loud laughters three;But whan she cam down the CannogateThe tear blinded her ee.9When she gaed up the Parliament stair,The heel cam aff her shee;And lang or she cam down againShe was condemnd to dee.10When she cam down the Cannogate,The Cannogate sae free,Many a ladie lookd oer her window,Weeping for this ladie.11‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,‘Ye need nae weep for me;For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,This death I wadna dee.12‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,‘The best that eer ye hae,That I may drink to my weil-wishers,And they may drink to me.13‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the main;Let them never let on to my father and motherBut what I’m coming hame.14‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the sea;Let them never let on to my father and motherThat I cam here to dee.15‘Oh little did my mother think,The day she cradled me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.16‘Oh little did my father think,The day he held up me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.17‘Last night I washd the queen’s feet,And gently laid her down;And a’the thanks I’ve gotten the nichtTo be hangd in Edinbro town!18‘Last nicht there was four Maries,The nicht there’l be but three;There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,And Marie Carmichael, and me.’

1Word’s gane to the kitchen,And word’s gane to the ha,That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairnTo the hichest Stewart of a’.

Word’s gane to the kitchen,

And word’s gane to the ha,

That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairn

To the hichest Stewart of a’.

2He’s courted her in the kitchen,He’s courted her in the ha,He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,And that was warst of a’.

He’s courted her in the kitchen,

He’s courted her in the ha,

He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,

And that was warst of a’.

3She’s tyed it in her apronAnd she’s thrown it in the sea;Says, Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe!You’l neer get mair o me.

She’s tyed it in her apron

And she’s thrown it in the sea;

Says, Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe!

You’l neer get mair o me.

4Down then cam the auld queen,Goud tassels tying her hair:‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babeThat I heard greet sae sair?’

Down then cam the auld queen,

Goud tassels tying her hair:

‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babe

That I heard greet sae sair?’

5‘There never was a babe intill my room,As little designs to be;It was but a touch o my sair side,Come oer my fair bodie.’

‘There never was a babe intill my room,

As little designs to be;

It was but a touch o my sair side,

Come oer my fair bodie.’

6‘O Marie, put on your robes o black,Or else your robes o brown,For ye maun gang wi me the night,To see fair Edinbro town.’

‘O Marie, put on your robes o black,

Or else your robes o brown,

For ye maun gang wi me the night,

To see fair Edinbro town.’

7‘I winna put on my robes o black,Nor yet my robes o brown;But I’ll put on my robes o white,To shine through Edinbro town.’

‘I winna put on my robes o black,

Nor yet my robes o brown;

But I’ll put on my robes o white,

To shine through Edinbro town.’

8When she gaed up the Cannogate,She laughd loud laughters three;But whan she cam down the CannogateThe tear blinded her ee.

When she gaed up the Cannogate,

She laughd loud laughters three;

But whan she cam down the Cannogate

The tear blinded her ee.

9When she gaed up the Parliament stair,The heel cam aff her shee;And lang or she cam down againShe was condemnd to dee.

When she gaed up the Parliament stair,

The heel cam aff her shee;

And lang or she cam down again

She was condemnd to dee.

10When she cam down the Cannogate,The Cannogate sae free,Many a ladie lookd oer her window,Weeping for this ladie.

When she cam down the Cannogate,

The Cannogate sae free,

Many a ladie lookd oer her window,

Weeping for this ladie.

11‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,‘Ye need nae weep for me;For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,This death I wadna dee.

‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,

‘Ye need nae weep for me;

For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,

This death I wadna dee.

12‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,‘The best that eer ye hae,That I may drink to my weil-wishers,And they may drink to me.

‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,

‘The best that eer ye hae,

That I may drink to my weil-wishers,

And they may drink to me.

13‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the main;Let them never let on to my father and motherBut what I’m coming hame.

‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,

That sail upon the main;

Let them never let on to my father and mother

But what I’m coming hame.

14‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,That sail upon the sea;Let them never let on to my father and motherThat I cam here to dee.

‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,

That sail upon the sea;

Let them never let on to my father and mother

That I cam here to dee.

15‘Oh little did my mother think,The day she cradled me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.

‘Oh little did my mother think,

The day she cradled me,

What lands I was to travel through,

What death I was to dee.

16‘Oh little did my father think,The day he held up me,What lands I was to travel through,What death I was to dee.

‘Oh little did my father think,

The day he held up me,

What lands I was to travel through,

What death I was to dee.

17‘Last night I washd the queen’s feet,And gently laid her down;And a’the thanks I’ve gotten the nichtTo be hangd in Edinbro town!

‘Last night I washd the queen’s feet,

And gently laid her down;

And a’the thanks I’ve gotten the nicht

To be hangd in Edinbro town!

18‘Last nicht there was four Maries,The nicht there’l be but three;There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,And Marie Carmichael, and me.’

‘Last nicht there was four Maries,

The nicht there’l be but three;

There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,

And Marie Carmichael, and me.’

Motherwell’s MS., p. 337.

1There were ladies, they lived in a bower,And oh but they were fair!The youngest o them is to the king’s court,To learn some unco lair.2She hadna been in the king’s courtA twelve month and a day,Till of her they could get na wark,For wantonness and play.3Word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,And word is up to Madame the Queen,And that is warst of a’,That Mary Hamilton has born a bairn,To the hichest Stewart of a’.4‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,O rise, and tell to meWhat thou did with thy sweet babeWe sair heard weep by thee.’5‘Hold your tongue, madame,’ she said,‘And let your folly be;It was a shouir o sad sicknessMade me weep sae bitterlie.’6‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,O rise, and tell to meWhat thou did with thy sweet babeWe sair heard weep by thee.’7‘I put it in a piner-pig,And set it on the sea;I bade it sink, or it might swim,It should neer come hame to me.’8‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,Arise, and go with me;There is a wedding in Glasgow townThis day we’ll go and see.’9She put not on her black clothing,She put not on her brown,But she put on the glistering gold,To shine thro Edinburgh town.10As they came into Edinburgh town,The city for to see,The bailie’s wife and the provost’s wifeSaid, Och an alace for thee!11‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,‘Gie never alace for me;It’s all for the sake of my poor babe,This death that I maun die.’12As they gaed up the Tolbuith stair,The stair it was sae hie,The bailie’s son and the provost’s sonSaid, Och an alace for thee!13‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,‘Gie never alace for me!It’s all for the sake of my puir babe,This death that I maun die.14‘But bring to me a cup,’ she says,‘A cup bot and a can,And I will drink to all my friends,And they ll drink to me again.15‘Here’s to you all, travellers,Who travels by land or sea;Let na wit to my father nor motherThe death that I must die.16‘Here’s to you all, travellers,That travels on dry land;Let na wit to my father nor motherBut I am coming hame.17‘Little did my mother think,First time she cradled me,What land I was to travel on,Or what death I would die.18‘Little did my mother think,First time she tied my head,What land I was to tread upon,Or whare I would win my bread.19‘Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries,This night she’ll hae but three;She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton,And Mary Carmichael, and me.20‘Yestreen I wush Queen Mary’s feet,And bore her till her bed;This day she’s given me my reward,This gallows-tree to tread.21‘Cast off, cast off my goun,’ she said.‘But let my petticoat be,And tye a napkin on my face,For that gallows I downa see.’22By and cum the king himsell,Lookd up with a pitiful ee:‘Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton,This day thou wilt dine with me.’23‘Hold your tongue, my sovereign leige,And let your folly be;An ye had a mind to save my life,Ye should na shamed me here.’

1There were ladies, they lived in a bower,And oh but they were fair!The youngest o them is to the king’s court,To learn some unco lair.

There were ladies, they lived in a bower,

And oh but they were fair!

The youngest o them is to the king’s court,

To learn some unco lair.

2She hadna been in the king’s courtA twelve month and a day,Till of her they could get na wark,For wantonness and play.

She hadna been in the king’s court

A twelve month and a day,

Till of her they could get na wark,

For wantonness and play.

3Word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,And word is up to Madame the Queen,And that is warst of a’,That Mary Hamilton has born a bairn,To the hichest Stewart of a’.

Word is to the kitchen gane,

And word is to the ha,

And word is up to Madame the Queen,

And that is warst of a’,

That Mary Hamilton has born a bairn,

To the hichest Stewart of a’.

4‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,O rise, and tell to meWhat thou did with thy sweet babeWe sair heard weep by thee.’

‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,

O rise, and tell to me

What thou did with thy sweet babe

We sair heard weep by thee.’

5‘Hold your tongue, madame,’ she said,‘And let your folly be;It was a shouir o sad sicknessMade me weep sae bitterlie.’

‘Hold your tongue, madame,’ she said,

‘And let your folly be;

It was a shouir o sad sickness

Made me weep sae bitterlie.’

6‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,O rise, and tell to meWhat thou did with thy sweet babeWe sair heard weep by thee.’

‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,

O rise, and tell to me

What thou did with thy sweet babe

We sair heard weep by thee.’

7‘I put it in a piner-pig,And set it on the sea;I bade it sink, or it might swim,It should neer come hame to me.’

‘I put it in a piner-pig,

And set it on the sea;

I bade it sink, or it might swim,

It should neer come hame to me.’

8‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,Arise, and go with me;There is a wedding in Glasgow townThis day we’ll go and see.’

‘O rise, O rise, Mary Hamilton,

Arise, and go with me;

There is a wedding in Glasgow town

This day we’ll go and see.’

9She put not on her black clothing,She put not on her brown,But she put on the glistering gold,To shine thro Edinburgh town.

She put not on her black clothing,

She put not on her brown,

But she put on the glistering gold,

To shine thro Edinburgh town.

10As they came into Edinburgh town,The city for to see,The bailie’s wife and the provost’s wifeSaid, Och an alace for thee!

As they came into Edinburgh town,

The city for to see,

The bailie’s wife and the provost’s wife

Said, Och an alace for thee!

11‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,‘Gie never alace for me;It’s all for the sake of my poor babe,This death that I maun die.’

‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,

‘Gie never alace for me;

It’s all for the sake of my poor babe,

This death that I maun die.’

12As they gaed up the Tolbuith stair,The stair it was sae hie,The bailie’s son and the provost’s sonSaid, Och an alace for thee!

As they gaed up the Tolbuith stair,

The stair it was sae hie,

The bailie’s son and the provost’s son

Said, Och an alace for thee!

13‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,‘Gie never alace for me!It’s all for the sake of my puir babe,This death that I maun die.

‘Gie never alace for me,’ she said,

‘Gie never alace for me!

It’s all for the sake of my puir babe,

This death that I maun die.

14‘But bring to me a cup,’ she says,‘A cup bot and a can,And I will drink to all my friends,And they ll drink to me again.

‘But bring to me a cup,’ she says,

‘A cup bot and a can,

And I will drink to all my friends,

And they ll drink to me again.

15‘Here’s to you all, travellers,Who travels by land or sea;Let na wit to my father nor motherThe death that I must die.

‘Here’s to you all, travellers,

Who travels by land or sea;

Let na wit to my father nor mother

The death that I must die.

16‘Here’s to you all, travellers,That travels on dry land;Let na wit to my father nor motherBut I am coming hame.

‘Here’s to you all, travellers,

That travels on dry land;

Let na wit to my father nor mother

But I am coming hame.

17‘Little did my mother think,First time she cradled me,What land I was to travel on,Or what death I would die.

‘Little did my mother think,

First time she cradled me,

What land I was to travel on,

Or what death I would die.

18‘Little did my mother think,First time she tied my head,What land I was to tread upon,Or whare I would win my bread.

‘Little did my mother think,

First time she tied my head,

What land I was to tread upon,

Or whare I would win my bread.

19‘Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries,This night she’ll hae but three;She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton,And Mary Carmichael, and me.

‘Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries,

This night she’ll hae but three;

She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton,

And Mary Carmichael, and me.

20‘Yestreen I wush Queen Mary’s feet,And bore her till her bed;This day she’s given me my reward,This gallows-tree to tread.

‘Yestreen I wush Queen Mary’s feet,

And bore her till her bed;

This day she’s given me my reward,

This gallows-tree to tread.

21‘Cast off, cast off my goun,’ she said.‘But let my petticoat be,And tye a napkin on my face,For that gallows I downa see.’

‘Cast off, cast off my goun,’ she said.

‘But let my petticoat be,

And tye a napkin on my face,

For that gallows I downa see.’

22By and cum the king himsell,Lookd up with a pitiful ee:‘Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton,This day thou wilt dine with me.’

By and cum the king himsell,

Lookd up with a pitiful ee:

‘Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton,

This day thou wilt dine with me.’

23‘Hold your tongue, my sovereign leige,And let your folly be;An ye had a mind to save my life,Ye should na shamed me here.’

‘Hold your tongue, my sovereign leige,

And let your folly be;

An ye had a mind to save my life,

Ye should na shamed me here.’

Motherwell’s MS. p. 265; from Mrs Crum, Dumbarton, 7 April, 1825.

1There lived a lord into the west,And he had dochters three,And the youngest o them is to the king’s court,To learn some courtesie.2She was not in the king’s courtA twelvemonth and a day,Till she was neither able to sit nor gang,Wi the gaining o some play.3She went to the garden,To pull the leaf aff the tree,To tak this bonnie babe frae her breast,But alas it would na do!4She rowed it in her handkerchief,And threw it in the sea:‘O sink ye, swim ye, wee wee babe!Ye’ll get nae mair o me.’5Word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,That Mary Myle she goes wi childTo the highest Steward of a’.6Down and came the queen hersell,The queen hersell so free:‘O Mary Myle, whare is the childThat I heard weep for thee?’7‘O hold your tongue now, Queen,’ she says,‘O hold your tongue so free!For it was but a shower o the sharp sickness,I was almost like to die.’8‘O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Myle,O busk, and go wi me;O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Mile,It’s Edinburgh town to see.’9‘I’ll no put on my robes o black,No nor yet my robes [o] brown;But I’ll put on my golden weed,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’10When she went up the Cannongate-side,The Cannongate-side so free,Oh there she spied some ministers’ lads,Crying Och and alace for me!11‘Dinna cry och and alace for me!Dinna cry o[c]h and alace for me!For it’s all for the sake of my innocent babeThat I come here to die.’12When she went up the Tolbooth-stair,The lap cam aff her shoe;Before that she came down again,She was condemned to die.13‘O all you gallant sailors,That sail upon the sea,Let neither my father nor mother knowThe death I am to die!14‘O all you gallant sailors,That sail upon the faem,Let neither my father nor mother knowBut I am coming hame!15‘Little did my mother know,The hour that she bore me,What lands I was to travel in,What death I was to die.16‘Little did my father know,When he held up my head,What lands I was to travel in,What was to be my deid.17‘Yestreen I made Queen Mary’s bed,Kembed doun her yellow hair;Is this the reward I am to get,To tread this gallows-stair!’

1There lived a lord into the west,And he had dochters three,And the youngest o them is to the king’s court,To learn some courtesie.

There lived a lord into the west,

And he had dochters three,

And the youngest o them is to the king’s court,

To learn some courtesie.

2She was not in the king’s courtA twelvemonth and a day,Till she was neither able to sit nor gang,Wi the gaining o some play.

She was not in the king’s court

A twelvemonth and a day,

Till she was neither able to sit nor gang,

Wi the gaining o some play.

3She went to the garden,To pull the leaf aff the tree,To tak this bonnie babe frae her breast,But alas it would na do!

She went to the garden,

To pull the leaf aff the tree,

To tak this bonnie babe frae her breast,

But alas it would na do!

4She rowed it in her handkerchief,And threw it in the sea:‘O sink ye, swim ye, wee wee babe!Ye’ll get nae mair o me.’

She rowed it in her handkerchief,

And threw it in the sea:

‘O sink ye, swim ye, wee wee babe!

Ye’ll get nae mair o me.’

5Word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,That Mary Myle she goes wi childTo the highest Steward of a’.

Word is to the kitchen gane,

And word is to the ha,

That Mary Myle she goes wi child

To the highest Steward of a’.

6Down and came the queen hersell,The queen hersell so free:‘O Mary Myle, whare is the childThat I heard weep for thee?’

Down and came the queen hersell,

The queen hersell so free:

‘O Mary Myle, whare is the child

That I heard weep for thee?’

7‘O hold your tongue now, Queen,’ she says,‘O hold your tongue so free!For it was but a shower o the sharp sickness,I was almost like to die.’

‘O hold your tongue now, Queen,’ she says,

‘O hold your tongue so free!

For it was but a shower o the sharp sickness,

I was almost like to die.’

8‘O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Myle,O busk, and go wi me;O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Mile,It’s Edinburgh town to see.’

‘O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Myle,

O busk, and go wi me;

O busk ye, busk ye, Mary Mile,

It’s Edinburgh town to see.’

9‘I’ll no put on my robes o black,No nor yet my robes [o] brown;But I’ll put on my golden weed,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

‘I’ll no put on my robes o black,

No nor yet my robes [o] brown;

But I’ll put on my golden weed,

To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

10When she went up the Cannongate-side,The Cannongate-side so free,Oh there she spied some ministers’ lads,Crying Och and alace for me!

When she went up the Cannongate-side,

The Cannongate-side so free,

Oh there she spied some ministers’ lads,

Crying Och and alace for me!

11‘Dinna cry och and alace for me!Dinna cry o[c]h and alace for me!For it’s all for the sake of my innocent babeThat I come here to die.’

‘Dinna cry och and alace for me!

Dinna cry o[c]h and alace for me!

For it’s all for the sake of my innocent babe

That I come here to die.’

12When she went up the Tolbooth-stair,The lap cam aff her shoe;Before that she came down again,She was condemned to die.

When she went up the Tolbooth-stair,

The lap cam aff her shoe;

Before that she came down again,

She was condemned to die.

13‘O all you gallant sailors,That sail upon the sea,Let neither my father nor mother knowThe death I am to die!

‘O all you gallant sailors,

That sail upon the sea,

Let neither my father nor mother know

The death I am to die!

14‘O all you gallant sailors,That sail upon the faem,Let neither my father nor mother knowBut I am coming hame!

‘O all you gallant sailors,

That sail upon the faem,

Let neither my father nor mother know

But I am coming hame!

15‘Little did my mother know,The hour that she bore me,What lands I was to travel in,What death I was to die.

‘Little did my mother know,

The hour that she bore me,

What lands I was to travel in,

What death I was to die.

16‘Little did my father know,When he held up my head,What lands I was to travel in,What was to be my deid.

‘Little did my father know,

When he held up my head,

What lands I was to travel in,

What was to be my deid.

17‘Yestreen I made Queen Mary’s bed,Kembed doun her yellow hair;Is this the reward I am to get,To tread this gallows-stair!’

‘Yestreen I made Queen Mary’s bed,

Kembed doun her yellow hair;

Is this the reward I am to get,

To tread this gallows-stair!’

Motherwell’s MS., p. 267; from the recitation of Miss Nancy Hamilton and Mrs Gentles, January, 1825.

1There lives a knight into the north,And he had daughters three;The ane of them was a barber’s wife,The other a gay ladie.2And the youngest of them is to Scotland gane,The queen’s Mary to be,And a’that they could say or do,Forbidden she woudna be.3The prince’s bed it was sae saft,The spices they were sae fine,That out of it she couldna lyeWhile she was scarse fifteen.4She’s gane to the garden gayTo pu of the savin tree;But for a’that she could say or do,The babie it would not die.5She’s rowed it in her handkerchief,She threw it in the sea;Says, Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe!For ye’ll get nae mair of me.6Queen Mary came tripping down the stair,Wi the gold strings in her hair:‘O whare’s the little babie,’ she says,‘That I heard greet sae sair? ’7‘O hold your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,Let all those words go free!It was mysell wi a fit o the sair colic,I was sick just like to die.’8‘O hold your tongue, Mary Hamilton,Let all those words go free!O where is the little babieThat I heard weep by thee?’9‘I rowed it in my handkerchief,And threw it in the sea;I bade it sink, I bade it swim,It would get nae mair o me.’10‘O wae be to thee, Marie Hamilton,And an ill deid may you die!For if ye had saved the babie’s lifeIt might hae been an honour to thee.11‘Busk ye, busk ye, Marie Hamilton,O busk ye to be a bride!For I am going to Edinburgh toun,Your gay wedding to bide.12‘You must not put on your robes of black,Nor yet your robes of brown;But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’13‘I will not put on my robes of black,Nor yet my robes of brown;But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’14As she went up the Parliament Close,A riding on her horse,There she saw many a cobler’s lady,Sat greeting at the cross.15‘O what means a’ this greeting?I’m sure its nae for me;For I’m come this day to Edinburgh townWeel wedded for to be.’16When she gade up the Parliament stair,She gied loud lauchters three;But ere that she came down again,She was condemned to die.17‘O little did my mother think,The day that she prinned my gown,That I was to come sae far frae hameTo be hangid in Edinburgh town.18‘O what’ll my poor father think,As he comes thro the town,To see the face of his Molly fairHanging on the gallows-pin!19‘Here’s a health to the marineres,That plough the raging main!Let neither my mother nor father knowBut I’m coming hame again!20‘Here’s a health to the sailors,That sail upon the sea!Let neither my mother nor father kenThat I came here to die!21‘Yestreen the queen had four Maries,This night she’ll hae but three;There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,And Mary Carmichael, and me.’22‘O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton,Let all those words go free!This night eer ye be hangedYe shall gang hame wi me.’23‘O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,Let all those words go free!For since I have come to Edinburgh toun,It’s hanged I shall be,And it shall neer be said that in your courtI was condemned to die.’

1There lives a knight into the north,And he had daughters three;The ane of them was a barber’s wife,The other a gay ladie.

There lives a knight into the north,

And he had daughters three;

The ane of them was a barber’s wife,

The other a gay ladie.

2And the youngest of them is to Scotland gane,The queen’s Mary to be,And a’that they could say or do,Forbidden she woudna be.

And the youngest of them is to Scotland gane,

The queen’s Mary to be,

And a’that they could say or do,

Forbidden she woudna be.

3The prince’s bed it was sae saft,The spices they were sae fine,That out of it she couldna lyeWhile she was scarse fifteen.

The prince’s bed it was sae saft,

The spices they were sae fine,

That out of it she couldna lye

While she was scarse fifteen.

4She’s gane to the garden gayTo pu of the savin tree;But for a’that she could say or do,The babie it would not die.

She’s gane to the garden gay

To pu of the savin tree;

But for a’that she could say or do,

The babie it would not die.

5She’s rowed it in her handkerchief,She threw it in the sea;Says, Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe!For ye’ll get nae mair of me.

She’s rowed it in her handkerchief,

She threw it in the sea;

Says, Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe!

For ye’ll get nae mair of me.

6Queen Mary came tripping down the stair,Wi the gold strings in her hair:‘O whare’s the little babie,’ she says,‘That I heard greet sae sair? ’

Queen Mary came tripping down the stair,

Wi the gold strings in her hair:

‘O whare’s the little babie,’ she says,

‘That I heard greet sae sair? ’

7‘O hold your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,Let all those words go free!It was mysell wi a fit o the sair colic,I was sick just like to die.’

‘O hold your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,

Let all those words go free!

It was mysell wi a fit o the sair colic,

I was sick just like to die.’

8‘O hold your tongue, Mary Hamilton,Let all those words go free!O where is the little babieThat I heard weep by thee?’

‘O hold your tongue, Mary Hamilton,

Let all those words go free!

O where is the little babie

That I heard weep by thee?’

9‘I rowed it in my handkerchief,And threw it in the sea;I bade it sink, I bade it swim,It would get nae mair o me.’

‘I rowed it in my handkerchief,

And threw it in the sea;

I bade it sink, I bade it swim,

It would get nae mair o me.’

10‘O wae be to thee, Marie Hamilton,And an ill deid may you die!For if ye had saved the babie’s lifeIt might hae been an honour to thee.

‘O wae be to thee, Marie Hamilton,

And an ill deid may you die!

For if ye had saved the babie’s life

It might hae been an honour to thee.

11‘Busk ye, busk ye, Marie Hamilton,O busk ye to be a bride!For I am going to Edinburgh toun,Your gay wedding to bide.

‘Busk ye, busk ye, Marie Hamilton,

O busk ye to be a bride!

For I am going to Edinburgh toun,

Your gay wedding to bide.

12‘You must not put on your robes of black,Nor yet your robes of brown;But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

‘You must not put on your robes of black,

Nor yet your robes of brown;

But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs,

To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

13‘I will not put on my robes of black,Nor yet my robes of brown;But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs,To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

‘I will not put on my robes of black,

Nor yet my robes of brown;

But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs,

To shine thro Edinburgh town.’

14As she went up the Parliament Close,A riding on her horse,There she saw many a cobler’s lady,Sat greeting at the cross.

As she went up the Parliament Close,

A riding on her horse,

There she saw many a cobler’s lady,

Sat greeting at the cross.

15‘O what means a’ this greeting?I’m sure its nae for me;For I’m come this day to Edinburgh townWeel wedded for to be.’

‘O what means a’ this greeting?

I’m sure its nae for me;

For I’m come this day to Edinburgh town

Weel wedded for to be.’

16When she gade up the Parliament stair,She gied loud lauchters three;But ere that she came down again,She was condemned to die.

When she gade up the Parliament stair,

She gied loud lauchters three;

But ere that she came down again,

She was condemned to die.

17‘O little did my mother think,The day that she prinned my gown,That I was to come sae far frae hameTo be hangid in Edinburgh town.

‘O little did my mother think,

The day that she prinned my gown,

That I was to come sae far frae hame

To be hangid in Edinburgh town.

18‘O what’ll my poor father think,As he comes thro the town,To see the face of his Molly fairHanging on the gallows-pin!

‘O what’ll my poor father think,

As he comes thro the town,

To see the face of his Molly fair

Hanging on the gallows-pin!

19‘Here’s a health to the marineres,That plough the raging main!Let neither my mother nor father knowBut I’m coming hame again!

‘Here’s a health to the marineres,

That plough the raging main!

Let neither my mother nor father know

But I’m coming hame again!

20‘Here’s a health to the sailors,That sail upon the sea!Let neither my mother nor father kenThat I came here to die!

‘Here’s a health to the sailors,

That sail upon the sea!

Let neither my mother nor father ken

That I came here to die!

21‘Yestreen the queen had four Maries,This night she’ll hae but three;There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,And Mary Carmichael, and me.’

‘Yestreen the queen had four Maries,

This night she’ll hae but three;

There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,

And Mary Carmichael, and me.’

22‘O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton,Let all those words go free!This night eer ye be hangedYe shall gang hame wi me.’

‘O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton,

Let all those words go free!

This night eer ye be hanged

Ye shall gang hame wi me.’

23‘O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,Let all those words go free!For since I have come to Edinburgh toun,It’s hanged I shall be,And it shall neer be said that in your courtI was condemned to die.’

‘O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,

Let all those words go free!

For since I have come to Edinburgh toun,

It’s hanged I shall be,

And it shall neer be said that in your court

I was condemned to die.’

Buchan’s MSS, II, 186.

1‘My father was the Duke of York,My mother a lady free,Mysell a dainty damsell,Queen Mary sent for me.2‘Yestreen I washd Queen Mary’s feet,Kam’d down her yellow hair,And lay a’night in the young man’s bed,And I’ll rue t for evermair.3The queen’s kale was aye sae het,Her spice was aye sae fell,Till they gart me gang to the young man’s bed,And I’d a’the wyte mysell.4‘I was not in the queen’s serviceA twelvemonth but barely ane,Ere I grew as big wi bairnAs ae woman could gang.5‘But it fell ance upon a day,Was aye to be it lane,I did take strong travillingAs ever yet was seen.’6Ben it came the queen hersell,Was a’ gowd to the hair;‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,That I heard greeting sair?’7Ben it came the queen hersell,Was a’ gowd to the chin:‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,That I heard late yestreen.’8‘There is no bairn here,’ she says,‘Nor never thinks to be;’Twas but a stoun o sair sicknessThat ye heard seizing me.’9They sought it out, they sought it in,They sought it but and ben,But between the bolster and the bedThey got the baby slain.10‘Come busk ye, busk ye, Lady Maisdry,Come busk, an go with me;For I will on to Edinburgh,And try the verity.’11She woud not put on the black, the black,Nor yet wad she the brown,But the white silk and the red scarlet,That shin’d frae town to town.12As she gaed down thro Edinburgh townThe burghers’ wives made meen,That sic a dainty damselSud ever hae died for sin.13‘Make never meen for me,’ she says,‘Make never meen for me;Seek never grace frae a graceless face,For that ye’ll never see.’14As she gaed up the Tolbooth stair,A light laugh she did gie;But lang ere she came down againShe was condemned to die.15‘A’ you that are in merchants-ships,And cross the roaring faem,Hae nae word to my father and mother,But that I’m coming hame.16‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,Hold them a little while!For yonder comes my father and mother,That’s travelld mony a mile.17‘Gie me some o your gowd, parents,Some o your white monie,To save me frae the head o yon hill,Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’18‘Ye’ll get nane o our gowd, daughter,Nor nane o our white monie;For we hae travelld mony a mile,This day to see you die.’19‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,Hold them a little while!For yonder comes him Warenston,The father of my chile.20‘Give me some o your gowd, Warenston,Some o your white monie,To save me frae the head o yon hill,Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’21‘I bade you nurse my bairn well,And nurse it carefullie,And gowd shoud been your hire, Maisry,And my body your fee.’22He’s taen out a purse o gowd,Another o white monie,And he’s tauld down ten thousand crowns,Says, True love, gang wi me.

1‘My father was the Duke of York,My mother a lady free,Mysell a dainty damsell,Queen Mary sent for me.

‘My father was the Duke of York,

My mother a lady free,

Mysell a dainty damsell,

Queen Mary sent for me.

2‘Yestreen I washd Queen Mary’s feet,Kam’d down her yellow hair,And lay a’night in the young man’s bed,And I’ll rue t for evermair.

‘Yestreen I washd Queen Mary’s feet,

Kam’d down her yellow hair,

And lay a’night in the young man’s bed,

And I’ll rue t for evermair.

3The queen’s kale was aye sae het,Her spice was aye sae fell,Till they gart me gang to the young man’s bed,And I’d a’the wyte mysell.

The queen’s kale was aye sae het,

Her spice was aye sae fell,

Till they gart me gang to the young man’s bed,

And I’d a’the wyte mysell.

4‘I was not in the queen’s serviceA twelvemonth but barely ane,Ere I grew as big wi bairnAs ae woman could gang.

‘I was not in the queen’s service

A twelvemonth but barely ane,

Ere I grew as big wi bairn

As ae woman could gang.

5‘But it fell ance upon a day,Was aye to be it lane,I did take strong travillingAs ever yet was seen.’

‘But it fell ance upon a day,

Was aye to be it lane,

I did take strong travilling

As ever yet was seen.’

6Ben it came the queen hersell,Was a’ gowd to the hair;‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,That I heard greeting sair?’

Ben it came the queen hersell,

Was a’ gowd to the hair;

‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,

That I heard greeting sair?’

7Ben it came the queen hersell,Was a’ gowd to the chin:‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,That I heard late yestreen.’

Ben it came the queen hersell,

Was a’ gowd to the chin:

‘O where’s the bairn, Lady Maisry,

That I heard late yestreen.’

8‘There is no bairn here,’ she says,‘Nor never thinks to be;’Twas but a stoun o sair sicknessThat ye heard seizing me.’

‘There is no bairn here,’ she says,

‘Nor never thinks to be;

’Twas but a stoun o sair sickness

That ye heard seizing me.’

9They sought it out, they sought it in,They sought it but and ben,But between the bolster and the bedThey got the baby slain.

They sought it out, they sought it in,

They sought it but and ben,

But between the bolster and the bed

They got the baby slain.

10‘Come busk ye, busk ye, Lady Maisdry,Come busk, an go with me;For I will on to Edinburgh,And try the verity.’

‘Come busk ye, busk ye, Lady Maisdry,

Come busk, an go with me;

For I will on to Edinburgh,

And try the verity.’

11She woud not put on the black, the black,Nor yet wad she the brown,But the white silk and the red scarlet,That shin’d frae town to town.

She woud not put on the black, the black,

Nor yet wad she the brown,

But the white silk and the red scarlet,

That shin’d frae town to town.

12As she gaed down thro Edinburgh townThe burghers’ wives made meen,That sic a dainty damselSud ever hae died for sin.

As she gaed down thro Edinburgh town

The burghers’ wives made meen,

That sic a dainty damsel

Sud ever hae died for sin.

13‘Make never meen for me,’ she says,‘Make never meen for me;Seek never grace frae a graceless face,For that ye’ll never see.’

‘Make never meen for me,’ she says,

‘Make never meen for me;

Seek never grace frae a graceless face,

For that ye’ll never see.’

14As she gaed up the Tolbooth stair,A light laugh she did gie;But lang ere she came down againShe was condemned to die.

As she gaed up the Tolbooth stair,

A light laugh she did gie;

But lang ere she came down again

She was condemned to die.

15‘A’ you that are in merchants-ships,And cross the roaring faem,Hae nae word to my father and mother,But that I’m coming hame.

‘A’ you that are in merchants-ships,

And cross the roaring faem,

Hae nae word to my father and mother,

But that I’m coming hame.

16‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,Hold them a little while!For yonder comes my father and mother,That’s travelld mony a mile.

‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,

Hold them a little while!

For yonder comes my father and mother,

That’s travelld mony a mile.

17‘Gie me some o your gowd, parents,Some o your white monie,To save me frae the head o yon hill,Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’

‘Gie me some o your gowd, parents,

Some o your white monie,

To save me frae the head o yon hill,

Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’

18‘Ye’ll get nane o our gowd, daughter,Nor nane o our white monie;For we hae travelld mony a mile,This day to see you die.’

‘Ye’ll get nane o our gowd, daughter,

Nor nane o our white monie;

For we hae travelld mony a mile,

This day to see you die.’

19‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,Hold them a little while!For yonder comes him Warenston,The father of my chile.

‘Hold your hands, ye justice o peace,

Hold them a little while!

For yonder comes him Warenston,

The father of my chile.

20‘Give me some o your gowd, Warenston,Some o your white monie,To save me frae the head o yon hill,Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’

‘Give me some o your gowd, Warenston,

Some o your white monie,

To save me frae the head o yon hill,

Yon greenwood gallows-tree.’

21‘I bade you nurse my bairn well,And nurse it carefullie,And gowd shoud been your hire, Maisry,And my body your fee.’

‘I bade you nurse my bairn well,

And nurse it carefullie,

And gowd shoud been your hire, Maisry,

And my body your fee.’

22He’s taen out a purse o gowd,Another o white monie,And he’s tauld down ten thousand crowns,Says, True love, gang wi me.

He’s taen out a purse o gowd,

Another o white monie,

And he’s tauld down ten thousand crowns,

Says, True love, gang wi me.

Skene MS., p. 61.

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