FOOTNOTES:
[144] "As far as he can remember, the old woman gave the story in fewer verses." Christie gives the ballad from Scott (omitting stanzas 10-18), "with slight alterations from the way she sung it." These alterations are: 11, has omitted. 41, Then some for O some. 263, fair castle for bonny castle (bonny in Scott, 1833; fair in Scott, 1802). 292, is right for was right. 294. Ere ever you for Or ever ye. Dean Christie's memory, it seems, retains the most inconsiderable variations, while it is not so good for larger things. See the note at Christie, I, 128, '[Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter],' in this volume, and other ballads.
[90]
JELLON GRAME.
[A]. a. 'Jellon Grame and Lillie Flower,' A. Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 4. b. 'Jellon Grame,' Scott's Minstrelsy, II, 20, 1802.
[B]. 'Hind Henry,' Motherwell's MS., p. 443.
[C]. 'May-a-Row,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 231.
[D]. 'Lady Margerie,' Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 222.
'Jellon Grame' was first given to the world in Scott's Minstrelsy, in 1802. The editor says of this copy, A b, "This ballad is published from tradition, with some conjectural emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs Brown's MS. [A a], from which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are apparently modernized." The only very important difference between Scott's version and Mrs Brown's is its having four stanzas of its own, the four before the last two, which are evidently not simply modernized, but modern.
There is a material difference between the story furnished by A and what we learn from the three other copies. Jellon Grame sends for his love Lillie Flower to come to the wood. She is very eager to go, though warned by the messenger that she may never come back. Jellon Grame, who has already dug her grave, kills her because her father will hang him when it is discovered that she has had a child by him. He brings up the child as his sister's son. One day, when the boy asks why his mother does not take him home, Jellon Grame (very unnaturally) answers, I slew her, and there she lies: upon which the boy sends an arrow through him.
In B, C, D, the man is Henry, Hind Henry, B, C; the maid is May Margerie, B, May-a-Roe, C, Margerie, D. Margerie, in B, receives a message to come to the wood to make her love a shirt, which surprises her, for no month had passed in the year that she had not made him three. Nevertheless, she goes, though warned by her mother that there is a plot against her life. She is stopped in the wood by Hind Henry, who kills her because she loves Brown Robin. Word is carried that Margerie has been slain; her sister hastens to the wood, takes under her care the child which Margerie was going with, and calls him Brown Robin, after his father. The lad goes to the wood one day after school to pull a hollin wand, and meets Hind Henry at the place where the mother had been killed. No grass is growing just there, and the boy asks Hind Henry why this is so. Hind Henry, not less frank than Jellon Grame, says, That is the very spot where I killed your mother. The boy catches at Henry's sword and runs him through.
C has nearly the same incidents as B, diluted and vulgarized in almost twice as many verses. Brown Robin is made to be Hind Henry's brother. The sister does not appear in the action, and the child is brought up by the murderer, as in A, but is named Robin Hood, after that bold robber. On hearing from Hind Henry how his mother had come to her death, young Robin sends an arrow to his heart.
A story is supplied from the "traditions of Galloway" for the fragmentary, and perhaps heterogeneous, verses called D; I suppose by Allan Cunningham. Margerie was beloved by two brothers, and preferred the elder. Henry, the younger, forged a billet to her by which he obtained a meeting in a wood, when he reproached her for not returning his feelings: sts 1, 2. "She expostulated with him on the impropriety of bringing her into an unfrequented place for the purpose of winning affections which, she observed, were not hers to bestow;" but expostulations as to improprieties producing but slight effect in "those rude times," told him plainly that she was with child by his brother. Henry drew his sword and killed Margerie. The elder brother, who was hunting, was apprised of mischief by the omens in stanza 4. "Astonished at this singular phenomenon, he immediately flew to the bower of his mistress, where a page informed him she was gone to the 'silver wood,' agreeably to his desire. Thither he spurred his horse, and, meeting Henry with his bloody sword still in his hand, inquired what he had been killing." The other replied as in stanza 5. "A mutual explanation took place, and Henry fell by the sword of his unhappy brother."
The resemblance of this ballad at the beginning to '[Child Maurice]' will not escape notice. Silver Wood, or the silver wood, is found in '[Child Maurice],' [A] 1, [G] 1. A 14, B 10, C 15, is a commonplace: see No 66, A 28, 29, B 20, 21, D 9, E 40; No 70, B 25; No 81, K 13. B 13 is found in ['Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter,' B] 24: cf. A 15. The phenomenon in D 4 we have had in No 65, D 17.
'Jellon Grame,' and particularly versions B, C, D, may be regarded as a counterpart to '[Fause Foodrage],' and especially to versions B, C, of that ballad. In 'Fause Foodrage,' [B], [C], and 'Jellon Grame,' B, C, D, a woman has two lovers. The one who is preferred is killed by the other in 'Fause Foodrage;' in 'Jellon Grame' the woman herself is killed by the lover she has rejected. This kind of interchange is familiar in ballads. In both 'Fause Foodrage' and 'Jellon Grame' the son of the woman, before he comes to manhood, takes vengeance on the murderer.
'Jellon Grame,' as well as 'Fause Foodrage,' has certainly suffered very much in transmission. It is interesting to find an ancient and original trait preserved even in so extremely corrupted a version as C of the present ballad, a circumstance very far from unexampled. In stanza 18 we read that the child who is to avenge his mother "grew as big in ae year auld as some boys woud in three," and we have a faint trace of the same extraordinary thriving in B 15: "Of all the youths was at that school none could with him compare." So in one of the Scandinavian ballads akin to 'Fause Foodrage,' and more remotely to 'Jellon Grame,' the corresponding child grows more in two months than other boys in eight years:
Mei voks unge Ingelbrett
í dei maanar tvaa
hell híne smaabonni
vokse paa aatte aar.
Bugge, Norske Folkeviser, No 23, st. 17, p. 113.
This is a commonplace: so again Bugge, No 5, sts 7, 8, p. 23. Compare Robert le Diable, and Sir Gowther.
In B 14 we are told that the boy was called by his father's name (C 17 is corrupted). This is a point in the corresponding Scandinavian ballads: Danske Viser, No 126, st. 21, No 127, st. 34; Levninger, No 12, st. 26, No 13, st. 18; Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 28, st. 33b; Bugge, No 23, st. 16; Kristensen, I, No 97, sts 7, 11, No 111, st. 9.
A b is translated by Schubart, p. 69; by Arndt, Blütenlese, p. 234.
A
a. A. Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 4. b. Scott's Minstrelsy, II, 20, 1802.
1 O Jellon Grame sat in Silver Wood,
He whistled and he sang,
And he has calld his little foot-page,
His errand for to gang.
2 'Win up, my bonny boy,' he says,
'As quick as eer you may;
For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower,
Before the break of day.'
3 The boy he's buckled his belt about,
And thro the green-wood ran,
And he came to the ladie's bower-door,
Before the day did dawn.
4 'O sleep ye, or wake ye, Lillie Flower?
The red run's i the rain:'
'I sleep not aft, I wake right aft;
Wha's that that kens my name?'
5 'Ye are bidden come to Silver Wood,
But I fear you'll never win hame;
Ye are bidden come to Silver Wood,
And speak wi Jellon Grame.'
6 'O I will gang to Silver Wood,
Though I shoud never win hame;
For the thing I most desire on earth
Is to speak wi Jellon Grame.'
7 She had no ridden a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three,
Ere she came to a new made grave,
Beneath a green oak tree.
8 O then up started Jellon Grame,
Out of a bush hard bye:
'Light down, light down now, Lillie Flower,
For it's here that ye maun ly.'
9 She lighted aff her milk-white steed,
And knelt upon her knee:
'O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame!
For I'm nae prepar'd to die.
10 'Your bairn, that stirs between my sides,
Maun shortly see the light;
But to see it weltring in my blude
Woud be a piteous sight.'
11 'O shoud I spare your life,' he says,
'Until that bairn be born,
I ken fu well your stern father
Woud hang me on the morn.'
12 'O spare my life now, Jellon Grame!
My father ye neer need dread;
I'll keep my bairn i the good green wood,
Or wi it I'll beg my bread.'
13 He took nae pity on that ladie,
Tho she for life did pray;
But pierced her thro the fair body,
As at his feet she lay.
14 He felt nae pity for that ladie,
Tho she was lying dead;
But he felt some for the bonny boy,
Lay weltring in her blude.
15 Up has he taen that bonny boy,
Gien him to nurices nine,
Three to wake, and three to sleep,
And three to go between.
16 And he's brought up that bonny boy,
Calld him his sister's son;
He thought nae man would eer find out
The deed that he had done.
17 But it sae fell out upon a time,
As a hunting they did gay,
That they rested them in Silver Wood,
Upon a summer-day.
18 Then out it spake that bonny boy,
While the tear stood in his eye,
'O tell me this now, Jellon Grame,
And I pray you dinna lie.
19 'The reason that my mother dear
Does never take me hame?
To keep me still in banishment
Is baith a sin and shame.'
20 'You wonder that your mother dear
Does never send for thee;
Lo, there's the place I slew thy mother,
Beneath that green oak tree.'
21 Wi that the boy has bent his bow,
It was baith stout and lang,
And through and thro him Jellon Grame
He's gard an arrow gang.
22 Says, Lye you thare now, Jellon Grame,
My mellison you wi;
The place my mother lies buried in
Is far too good for thee.
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 443.
1 Word has come to May Margerie,
In her bower where she sat:
'You are bid come to good green-wood,
To make your love a shirt.'
2 'I wonder much,' said May Margerie,
'At this message to me;
There is not a month gone of this year
But I have made him three.'
3 Then out did speak her mother dear,
A wise woman was she;
Said, Stay at home, my daughter May,
They seek to murder thee.
4 'O I'll cast off my gloves, mother,
And hang them up, I say;
If I come never back again,
They will mind you on May.
5 'Go saddle my horseback,' she said,
'It's quick as ever you may,
And we will ride to good green-wood;
It is a pleasant day.'
6 And when she came to good green-wood,
It's through it they did ride;
Then up did start him Hind Henry,
Just at the lady's side.
7 Says, Stop, O stop, you May Margerie,
Just stop I say to thee;
The boy that leads your bridle reins
Shall see you red and blue.
8 It's out he drew a long, long brand,
And stroked it ower a strae,
And through and through that lady's sides
He made the cauld weapon gae.
9 Says, Take you that now, May Margerie,
Just take you that from me,
Because you love Brown Robin,
And never would love me.
10 There was less pity for that lady,
When she was lying dead,
As was for her bony infant boy,
Lay swathed amang her bleed.
11 The boy fled home with all his might,
The tear into his ee:
'They have slain my lady in the wood,
With fear I'm like to die.'
12 Her sister's ran into the wood,
With greater grief and care,
Sighing and sobbing all the way,
Tearing her cloaths and hair.
13 Says, I'll take up that fair infant,
And lull him on my sleeve;
Altho his father should wish me woe,
His mother to me was leeve.
14 Now she has taken the infant up,
And she has brought him hame,
And she has called him Brown Robin,
That was his father's name.
15 And when he did grow up a bit,
She put him to the lair,
And of all the youths was at that school
None could with him compare.
16 And it fell once upon a day
A playtime it was come,
And when the rest went from the school,
Each one to their own home,
17 He hied him unto good green-wood,
And leapt from tree to tree;
It was to pull a hollin wand,
To play his ownself wi.
18 And when he thus had passed his time,
To go home he was fain,
He chanced to meet him Hind Henry,
Where his mother was slain.
19 'O how is this,' the youth cried out,
'If it to you is known,
How all this wood is growing grass,
And on that small spot grows none?'
20 'Since you do wonder, bonnie boy,
I shall tell you anon;
That is indeed the very spot
I killed your mother in.'
21 He catched hold of Henry's brand,
And stroked it ower a strae,
And thro and thro Hind Henry's sides
He made the cauld metal gae.
22 Says, Take you that, O Hind Henry,
O take you that from me,
For killing of my mother dear,
And her not hurting thee.
C
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 231.
1 When spring appeard in all its bloom,
And flowers grew fresh and green,
As May-a-Roe she set her down,
To lay gowd on her seam.
2 But word has come to that lady,
At evening when 't was dark,
To meet her love in gude greenwood,
And bring to him a sark.
3 'That's strange to me' said May-a-Roe,
'For how can a' this be?
A month or twa is scarcely past
Sin I sent my lovie three.'
4 Then May-a-Roe lap on her steed,
And quickly rade away;
She hadna ridden but hauf a mile,
Till she heard a voice to say:
5 'Turn back, turn back, ye ventrous maid,
Nae farther must ye go;
For the boy that leads your bridle rein
Leads you to your overthrow.'
6 But a' these words she neer did mind,
But fast awa did ride;
And up it starts him Hynde Henry,
Just fair by her right side.
7 'Ye'll tarry here, perfidious maid,
For by my hand ye 'se dee;
Ye married my brother, Brown Robin,
Whan ye shoud hae married me.'
8 'O mercy, mercy, Hynde Henry,
O mercy have on me!
For I am eight months gane wi child,
Therefore ye'll lat me be.'
9 'Nae mercy is for thee, fair maid,
Nae mercy is for thee;
You married my brother, Brown Robin,
Whan ye shoud hae married me.'
10 'Ye will bring here the bread, Henry,
And I will bring the wine,
And ye will drink to your ain love,
And I will drink to mine.'
11 'I winna bring here the bread, fair maid,
Nor yet shall ye the wine,
Nor will I drink to my ain love,
Nor yet shall ye to thine.'
12 'O mercy, mercy, Hynde Henry,
Until I lighter be!
Hae mercy on your brother's bairn,
Tho ye hae nane for me.'
13 'Nae mercy is for thee, fair maid,
Nae mercy is for thee;
Such mercy unto you I'll gie
As what ye gae to me.'
14 Then he's taen out a trusty brand,
And stroakd it ower a strae,
And thro and thro her fair body
He's gart cauld iron gae.
15 Nae meen was made for that lady,
For she was lying dead;
But a' was for her bonny bairn,
Lay spartling by her side.
16 Then he's taen up the bonny bairn,
Handled him tenderlie,
And said, Ye are o my ain kin,
Tho your mother ill used me.
17 He's washen him at the crystal stream,
And rowd him in a weed,
And namd him after a bold robber
Who was calld Robin Hood.
18 Then brought to the next borough's town,
And gae him nurses three;
He grew as big in ae year auld
As some boys woud in three.
19 Then he was sent to guid squeel-house,
To learn how to thrive;
He learnd as muckle in ae year's time
As some boys would in five.
20 But I wonder, I wonder,' said little Robin,
'Gin eer a woman bare me;
For mony a lady spiers for the rest,
But nae ane spiers for me.
21 'I wonder, I wonder,' said little Robin,
'Were I of woman born;
Whan ladies my comrades do caress,
They look at me wi scorn.'
22 It fell upon an evening-tide,
Was ae night by it lane,
Whan a' the boys frae guid squeel-house
Were merrily coming hame,
23 Robin parted frae the rest,
He wishd to be alane;
And when his comrades he dismist,
To guid greenwood he's gane.
24 When he came to guid greenwood,
He clamb frae tree to tree,
To pou some o the finest leaves,
For to divert him wi.
25 He hadna pu'd a leaf, a leaf,
Nor brake a branch but ane,
Till by it came him Hynde Henry,
And bade him lat alane.
26 'You are too bauld a boy,' he said,
'Sae impudent you be,
As pu the leaves that's nae your ain,
Or yet to touch the tree.'
27 'O mercy, mercy, gentleman,
O mercy hae on me!
For if that I offence hae done,
It was unknown to me.'
28 'Nae boy comes here to guid greenwood
But pays a fine to me;
Your velvet coat, or shooting-bow,
Which o them will ye gie?'
29 'My shooting-bow arches sae well,
Wi it I canno part;
Lest wer't to send a sharp arrow
To pierce you to the heart.'
30 He turnd him right and round about,
His countenance did change:
'Ye seem to be a boy right bauld;
Why can ye talk sae strange?
31 'I'm sure ye are the bauldest boy
That ever I talkd wi;
As for your mother, May-a-Roe,
She was neer sae bauld to me.'
32 'O, if ye knew my mother,' he said,
'That's very strange to me;
And if that ye my mother knew,
It's mair than I coud dee.'
33 'Sae well as I your mother knew,
Ance my sweet-heart was she;
Because to me she broke her vow,
This maid was slain by me.'
34 'O, if ye slew my mother dear,
As I trust ye make nae lie,
I wyte ye never did the deed
That better paid shall be.'
35 'O mercy, mercy, little Robin,
O mercy hae on me!'
'Sic mercy as ye pae my mother,
Sic mercy I'll gie thee.
36 'Prepare yourself, perfidious man,
For by my hand ye 'se dee;
Now come's that bluidy butcher's end
Took my mother frae me.'
37 Then he hae chosen a sharp arrow,
That was baith keen and smart,
And let it fly at Hynde Henry,
And piercd him to the heart.
38 These news hae gaen thro Stirling town,
Likewise thro Hunting-ha;
At last it reachd the king's own court,
Amang the nobles a'.
39 When the king got word o that,
A light laugh then gae he,
And he's sent for him little Robin,
To come right speedilie.
40 He's putten on little Robin's head
A ribbon and gowden crown,
And made him ane o's finest knights,
For the valour he had done.
D
Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 222.
* * * * *
1 'D'ye mind, d'ye mind, Lady Margerie,
When we handed round the beer?
Seven times I fainted for your sake,
And you never dropt a tear.
2 'D'ye mind, d'ye mind, Lady Margerie,
When we handed round the wine?
Seven times I fainted for your sake,
And you never fainted once for mine.'
* * * * *
3 And he's taen the baby out of her womb
And thrown it upon a thorn:
'Let the wind blow east, let the wind blow west,
The cradle will rock its lone.'
* * * * *
4 But when brother Henry's cruel brand
Had done the bloody deed,
The silver-buttons flew off his coat,
And his nose began to bleed.
* * * * *
5 'O I have been killing in the silver wood
What will breed mickle woe;
I have been killing in the silver wood
A dawdy and a doe.'
* * * * *
A. a.
104. piteouus.
b.
12. he sharpd his broad-sword lang.
14. An errand.
22. quickly as ye.
31. boy has.
33. ladye's bower.
41. or omitted.
42. red sun's on.
43, 4. wanting.
51, 2. as 43, 4: I doubt ye'll.
53, 4. wanting.
6. wanting.
71. had na.
82. there bye.
94. no.
112. were born.
113. Full weel I ken your auld.
122. ye need na.
123. babe in gude.
131. on Lillie Flower.
141. for Lillie Flower.
142. Where she.
143. bonny bairn.
144. That lay.
153. Three to sleep and three to wake.
161. he bred.
163. And he thought no eye could ever see.
171. O so it fell upon a day.
172. When hunting they might be.
173. That omitted.
174. Beneath that green aik tree.
18-20.
And mony were the green wood flowers
Upon the grave that grew,
And marvelld much that bonny boy
To see their lovely hue.
'What's paler than the prymrose wan?
What's redder than the rose?
What's fairer than the lilye flower
On this wee know that grows?'
O out and answered Jellon Grame,
And he spake hastilie;
'Your mother was a fairer flower,
And lies beneath this tree.
'More pale she was, when she sought my grace,
Than prymrose pale and wan,
And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood,
That down my broad-sword ran.'
221. Lie ye.
222. gang you wi.
B.
121. sisters ran: into altered to unto.
[91]
FAIR MARY OF WALLINGTON
[A]. 'Fair Mary of Wellington,' Lovely Jenny's Garland, three copies, as early as 1775.
[B]. 'Lady Mazery,' Herd's MSS: a, I, 186; b, II, 89.
[C]. 'The Bonny Earl of Livingston,' Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 5.
[D]. 'The Laird o Livingstone,' Dr John Hill Burton's MS., No 2.
[E]. 'Mild Mary,' Motherwell's MS., p. 123.
[F]. 'Lord Darlington.' a. Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 183. b. The Borderer's Table Book, VII, 178.
'Fair Mary of Wallington' was communicated to Bishop Percy, with other "old Scots Songs," in 1775, by Roger Halt, and presumably in a copy of the garland from which it is here printed. A was given by Ritson, from an inferior edition, with corrections, and the title changed to 'Fair Mabel of Wallington,' in The Northumberland Garland, 1793, p. 38 of the reprint of Northern Garlands, 1809. Ritson's copy is repeated in Bell's Rhymes of Northern Bards, 1812, p. 147, and in Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, VI, 141.
The story is very well preserved and very well told in A. All the seven sisters of a family are destined to die of their first child. Five having so died already, one of the remaining two expresses a resolution never to marry, since she is sure that she will go the way of the others. She is told that a knight has been there, asking for her hand. Then in three quarters of a year they may come to her burial. When her husband's mother welcomes her to her castle and bowers, the bride responds, under the operation of her melancholy conviction, I think they 'll soon be yours. At the end of three quarters of a year she sends messages to her family: to her mother to come to her sickening or her wake;[145] to her sister to remain in maidenhood, and escape the doom of the family. When the mother arrives the young wife is in extremities.[146] She gives rings to her mother, who is all to blame, gives rings to her husband, and with a razor opens her side, and takes out an heir for the house. In D we are told that five boys had been cut from their mothers, Mary's sisters, before. In B the remaining sister declares that no man shall ever lie by her side; but her mother says she shall marry though she live but three quarters of a year: so, nearly, in C.
A Breton ballad, 'Pontplancoat,' A, Luzel, I, 382, B, p. 386, exhibits such correspondences with the English and Scottish that we cannot hesitate to assume that it has the same source.
In the first version Pontplancoat marries Marguerite for his third wife. He is obliged by affairs to leave her, and has a dream which disturbs him so much that he returns home the same night. This dream is that his wife has been three days in travail, and it proves true. A spoon is put in the lady's mouth, an incision made in her right side, and a son taken out. This is Pontplancoat's third son, and each of them has been extracted from his mother's side. He has had three wives of the name of Marguerite, and they have all died in this way.
Marguerite, in the other version, is told by her mother that she is to marry Pontplancoat. Marguerite signifies her obedience, but Pontplancoat has already had four wives of her name, all of whom "had been opened," and she shall be the fifth. As before, Pontplancoat is obliged to go away, and during his absence he receives letters which inform him that his wife is in labor and that the chances are against a normal delivery. He returns instantly. The lady has been three days in labor. A silver ball is put into her mouth, her right side opened with a knife, and a son extracted. Pontplancoat has four sons besides, all of whom have been brought into the world in this way.
English A is localized in Northumberland, and Mary made the wife of a Sir William Fenwick of Wellington. According to notes of Percy, he had not been able to find a Sir William Fenwick, lord of Wallington, with a wife of the name of Mary. Were a Sir William and Lady Mary Fenwick authenticable, a nice historical question would arise between them and some baron and baroness of the family Pontplancoat in Finistère, Brittany.
An extensively disseminated Scandinavian ballad has been assumed to be of kin with 'Mary of Wallington,' and in one version or another has resemblances which may possibly come from unity of origin, but the general likeness is certainly not striking. The published texts are: Norwegian, 'Maalfrí,' Bugge, Gamle norske Folkeviser, p. 122, No 25, A, B. Icelandic, 'Málfríðar kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, I, 208, No 24, A-D. Swedish, 'Herr Peder och Malfred,' Afzelius, I, 70, No 14. Danish, A, 'Esben og Malfred,' "Tragica, No 26," Danske Viser, III, 208, No 133; B, C, Kristensen, I, 232, No 87, A, B; D, E, 'Malfreds Død,' Kristensen, II, 232, No 69, A, B; F, 'Liden Malfreds Vise,' Feilberg, Fra Heden, p. 119; G, 'Herr Peder og Liden Malfred,' Berggreen's Danske Folkesange, 3d ed., p. 172, No 88. The Danish ballad is preserved in ten manuscripts, and Grundtvig possessed not less than twenty-two traditionary Danish versions and two Swedish, which he did not live to print.
The Norwegian ballad is most like, or least unlike, the English. Maalfrí, a king's only daughter, is married to Karl, king of England. It was spaed to her when she was yet a maid that she should die of her twelfth lying in; she has already born eleven children. The king purposing to leave her for a time, she reminds him of the prophecy. He defies spaewives and goes, but after three days dreams that Maalfrí's cloak is cut in two, that her hair is cut to bits, etc.; and this sends him home, when he learns that two sons have been cut from her side. He throws himself on his sword. Maalfrí, Malfred, is, in the other Norse ballads, also an only daughter, and dies in her twelfth child-birth, in all but Icelandic B, C, D, where the first is fatal to her. There are no other important diversities, and the resemblances in the details of the Norse and the English ballads are these two: the wife being fated to die of her first child in Icelandic B, C, D, and the Cæsarean operation in the Norwegian versions.
It is barely worth mentioning that there is also a German ballad, in which a maid (only eleven years old in most of the versions) begs her mother not to give her to a husband, because she will not live more than a year if married, and dies accordingly in child-birth: 'Hans Markgraf,' "Bothe, Frühlings-Almanach, 1806, p. 132," reprinted in Büsching und von der Hagen's Volkslieder, p. 30, Erlach, II, 136, Mittler, No 133; "Alle bei Gott die sich lieben," Wunderhorn, 1808, II, 250, Erlach, IV, 127, Mittler, No 128; Hoffmann und Richter, Schlesische Volkslieder, p. 12, No 5, Mittler, No 132. To these may be added 'Der Graf und die Bauerntochter,' Ditfurth, II, 8, No 9; 'Der Mutter Fluch,' Meinert, p. 246. In these last it is the mother who objects to the marriage, on account of her daughter's extreme youth.[147]
A
Lovely Jenny's Garland, three copies, as early as 1775, but without place or date.
1 When we were silly sisters seven,
sisters were so fair,
Five of us were brave knights' wives,
and died in childbed lair.
2 Up then spake Fair Mary,
marry woud she nane;
If ever she came in man's bed,
the same gate wad she gang.
3 'Make no vows, Fair Mary,
for fear they broken be;
Here's been the Knight of Wallington,
asking good will of thee.'
4 'If here's been the knight, mother,
asking good will of me,
Within three quarters of a year
you may come bury me.'
5 When she came to Wallington,
and into Wallington hall,
There she spy'd her mother dear,
walking about the wall.
6 'You're welcome, daughter dear,
to thy castle and thy bowers;'
'I thank you kindly, mother,
I hope they'll soon be yours.'
7 She had not been in Wallington
three quarters and a day,
Till upon the ground she could not walk,
she was a weary prey.
8 She had not been in Wallington
three quarters and a night,
Till on the ground she coud not walk,
she was a weary wight.
9 'Is there neer a boy in this town,
who'll win hose and shun,
That will run to fair Pudlington,
and bid my mother come?'
10 Up then spake a little boy,
near unto a-kin;
'Full oft I have your errands gone,
but now I will it run.'
11 Then she calld her waiting-maid
to bring up bread and wine:
'Eat and drink, my bonny boy,
thou'll neer eat more of mine.
12 'Give my respects to my mother,
[as] she sits in her chair of stone,
And ask her how she likes the news,
of seven to have but one.
13 ['Give my respects to my mother,
as she sits in her chair of oak,
And bid her come to my sickening,
or my merry lake-wake.]
14 'Give my love to my brother
William, Ralph, and John,
And to my sister Betty fair,
and to her white as bone.
15 'And bid her keep her maidenhead,
be sure make much on 't,
For if eer she come in man's bed,
the same gate will she gang.'
16 Away this little boy is gone,
as fast as he could run;
When he came where brigs were broke,
he lay down and swum.
17 When he saw the lady, he said,
Lord may your keeper be!
'What news, my pretty boy,
hast thou to tell to me?'
18 'Your daughter Mary orders me,
as you sit in a chair of stone,
To ask you how you like the news,
of seven to have but one.
19 'Your daughter gives commands,
as you sit in a chair of oak,
And bids you come to her sickening,
or her merry lake-wake.
20 'She gives command to her brother
William, Ralph, and John,
[And] to her sister Betty fair,
and to her white as bone.
21 'She bids her keep her maidenhead,
be sure make much on 't,
For if eer she came in man's bed,
the same gate woud she gang.'
22 She kickt the table with her foot,
she kickt it with her knee,
The silver plate into the fire,
so far she made it flee.
23 Then she calld her waiting-maid
to bring her riding-hood,
So did she on her stable-groom
to bring her riding-steed.
24 'Go saddle to me the black [the black,]
go saddle to me the brown,
Go saddle to me the swiftest steed
that eer rid [to] Wallington.'
25 When they came to Wallington,
and into Wallington hall,
There she spy'd her son Fenwick,
walking about the wall.
26 'God save you, dear son,
Lord may your keeper be!
Where is my daughter fair,
that used to walk with thee?'
27 He turnd his head round about,
the tears did fill his ee:
''T is a month,' he said, 'since she
took her chambers from me.'
28 She went on ...
and there were in the hall
Four and twenty ladies,
letting the tears down fall.
29 Her daughter had a scope
into her cheek and into her chin,
All to keep her life
till her dear mother came.
30 'Come take the rings off my fingers,
the skin it is so white,
And give them to my mother dear,
for she was all the wite.
31 'Come take the rings off my fingers,
the veins they are so red,
Give them to Sir William Fenwick,
I'm sure his heart will bleed.'
32 She took out a razor
that was both sharp and fine,
And out of her left side has taken
the heir of Wallington.
33 There is a race in Wallington,
and that I rue full sare;
Tho the cradle it be full spread up,
the bride-bed is left bare.
B
Herd's MSS: a, I, 186; b, II, 89.
1 'When we were sisters seven,
An five of us deyd wi child,
And there is nane but you and I, Mazery,
And we'll go madens mild.'
2 But there came knights, and there came squiers,
An knights of high degree;
She pleasd hersel in Levieston,
Thay wear a comly twa.
3 He has bought her rings for her fingers,
And garlands for her hair,
The broochis till her bosome braid;
What wad my love ha mair?
And he has brought her on to Livingston,
And made her lady thear.
4 She had na been in Liveingston
A twelvemonth and a day,
Till she was as big wi bairn
As ony lady could gae.
5 The knight he knocked his white fingers,
The goude rings flew in twa:
'Halls and bowers they shall go wast
Ere my bonny love gie awa!'
6 The knight he knocked his white fingers,
The goude rings flew in foure:
'Halls and bowers they shall go waste
Eren my bonny lady gie it ore!'
7 The knight he knocked his white fingers,
The lady sewed and sung;
It was to comfort Lady Mazery,
But her life-days wear na long.
8 'O whare will I get a bonny boy,
That will win both hoos and shoon,
That will win his way to Little Snoddown,
To my mother, the Queen?'
9 Up and stands a bonny boy,
Goude yellow was his hair;
I wish his mother mickle grace at him,
And his trew-love mickle mare.
10 'Here am I a bonny boy,
That will win baith hoos an shoon,
That will win my way to Little Snoddown,
To thy mother, the Queen.'
11 'Here is the rings frae my fingers,
The garlonds frae my hair,
The broches fray my bosom braid;
Fray me she'll nere get mare.
12 'Here it is my weeding-goun,
It is a' goude but the hem;
Gi it to my sister Allen,
For she is left now bird her lane.
13 'When you come whare brigs is broken,
Ye'l bent your bow and swim;
An when ye come whare green grass grows,
Ye'l slack your shoon and run.
14 'But when you come to yon castle,
Bide neither to chap nor ca,
But you'l set your bent bow to your breast,
And lightly loup the wa,
And gin the porter be half-gate,
Ye'll be ben throw the ha.'
15 O when he came whare brigs was broken,
He bent his bow and swam;
An when he came where green grass grows,
He slackd his shoon an ran.
16 And when he came to yon castel,
He stayed neither to chap no ca'l,
But bent his bow unto his breast,
And lightly lap the wa'l;
And gin the porter was hafe-gate,
He was ben throw the ha'l.
17 'O peace be to you, ladys a'l!
As ye sit at your dine
Ye ha little word of Lady Mazerë,
For she drees mickel pine.
18 'Here is the rings frae her fingers,
The garlands frae her hair,
The broches frae her bosome brade;
Fray her ye'l nere get mare.
19 'Here it is her weeding-goun,
It is a' goude but the hem;
Ye'll ge it to her sister Allen,
For she is left bird her lane.'
20 She ca'd the table wi her foot,
And coped it wi her tae,
Till siller cups an siller cans
Unto the floor did gae.
21 'Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny boy,
Ye wash, and come to dine;
It does not fit a bonny boy
His errant for to tine.
22 'Ge saddle to me the black, the black,
Ge saddle to me the brown,
Ge saddle to me the swiftest steed
That ever rid frae a town.'
23 The first steed they saddled to her,
He was the bonny black;
He was a good steed, an a very good steed,
But he tiyrd eer he wan the slack.
24 The next steed they saddled to her,
He was the bonny brown;
He was a good steed, an a very good steed,
But he tiyird ere he wan the town.
25 The next steed they saddled to her,
He was the bonny white;
Fair fa the mair that fo'd the fole
That carried her to Mazeree['s] lear!
26 As she gaed in at Leivingston,
Thair was na mickel pride;
The scobs was in her lovely mouth,
And the razer in her side.
27 'O them that marrys your daughter, lady,
I think them but a foole;
A married man at Martimass,
An a widdow the next Yule!'
28 'O hold your toung now, Livingston,
Let all your folly abee;
I bear the burden in my breast,
Mun suffer them to dee.'
29 Out an speaks her Bird Allen,
For she spake ay through pride;
'That man shall near be born,' she says,
'That shall ly down by my side.'
30 'O hold your toung now, Bird Allen,
Let all your folly abee;
For you shall marry a man,' she says,
'Tho ye shoud live but rathes three.'
C
Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 5.
1 'O we were sisters seven, Maisry,
And five are dead wi child;
There is nane but you and I, Maisry,
And we'll go maidens mild.'
2 She hardly had the word spoken,
And turnd her round about,
When the bonny Earl of Livingston
Was calling Maisry out.
3 Upon a bonny milk-white steed,
That drank out of the Tyne,
And a' was for her Ladie Maisry,
To take her hyne and hyne.
4 Upon a bonny milk-white steed,
That drank out o the Tay,
And a' was for her Lady Maisry,
To carry her away.
5 She had not been at Livingston
A twelve month and a day,
Until she was as big wi bairn
As any ladie coud gae.
6 She calld upon her little foot-page,
Says, Ye maun run wi speed,
And bid my mother come to me,
For of her I'll soon have need.
7 'See, there is the brootch frae my hause-bane,
It is of gowd sae ried;
Gin she winna come when I'm alive,
Bid her come when I am dead.'
8 But ere she wan to Livingston,
As fast as she coud ride,
The gaggs they were in Maisry's mouth,
And the sharp sheers in her side.
9 Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands,
Till the gowd rings flaw in three:
'Let ha's and bowers and a' gae waste,
My bonny love's taen frae me!'
10 'O hold your tongue, Lord Livingston,
Let a' your mourning be;
For I bare the bird between my sides,
Yet I maun thole her to die.'
11 Then out it spake her sister dear,
As she sat at her head:
'That man is not in Christendoom
Shall gar me die sicken dead.'
12 'O hold your tongue, my ae daughter,
Let a' your folly be,
For ye shall be married ere this day week
Tho the same death you should die.'
D
Dr John Hill Burton's MS., No 2.
1 'Here it is was sisters seven,
And five is died with child;
Was non but you and I, Hellen,
And we'se be maidens mild.'
2 They hadna been maidens o bonny Snawdon
A twalvemonth and a day,
When lairds and lords a courting came,
Seeking Mary away.
3 The bonny laird of Livingstone,
He liket Mary best;
He gae her a ring, a royal ring,
And he wedded her at last.
4 She hed na been lady o Livingstone
A twalvemonth and a day,
When she did go as big wi bairn
As iver a woman could be.
* * * * *
7 The knights were wringin their white fingers,
And the ladys wer tearin their hair;
It was a' for the lady o Livingstone,
For a word she never spake mare.
8 Out and spake her sister Hellen,
Where she sat by her side;
'The man shall never be born,' she said,
'Shall ever make me his bride.
9 'The man,' she said, 'that would merry me,
I'de count him but a feel,
To merry me at Whitsunday,
And bury me at Yele.'
10 Out and spak her mother dear,
Whare she sat by the fire:
'I bare this babe now from my side,
Maun suffer her to die.
11 'And I have six boys now to my oyes,
And none of them were born,
But a hole cut in their mother's side,
And they from it were shorne.'
12 . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
E
Motherwell's MS., p. 123, from the recitation of Mrs Macqueen, Lochwinnoch.
1 'Arise, arise, dochter,' she said,
'My bidding to obey;
The bravest lord in all Scotland
This night asked you of me.'
2 'O haud your tongue, mother,' she said,
'These words they do me wrang;
For gin I lye in a man's bed,
My days will no be lang.
3 'There were seven sisters o us a',
We were a' clad in white;
And five of them were married,
And in child-bed they died.'
4 'Ye shall not be drest in black,
Nor sall ye be in broun;
But ye'se be drest in shining gowd,
To gae glittering thro the town.
5 'Your father sall ride before you,' she said,
'And your brother sall ride ahin;
Your horses fore-feet siller shod,
And his hind anes wi gowd shall shine.
6 'Wi four and twenty buirdlie men
Atween ye and the wun,
And four and twenty bonnie mays
Atween ye and the sun.
7 'Four and twenty milk-white geese,
Stretching their wings sae wide,
Blawing the dust aff the high-way,
That Mild Mary may ride.'
8 They took to them their milk-white steeds,
Set her upon a grey,
And wi a napkin in her hand
Weeping she rade away.
9 O they rade on that lee-lang nicht,
And part o the neist day also,
And syne she saw her auld good mother
Stand in the gates below.
10 'You'r welcome, welcome, dochter,' she said,
'To your biggins and your bowers;'
'I thank ye kindly, mither,' she said,
'But I doubt they'll sune be yours.'
* * * * *
F
a. Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 183. b. The Borderer's Table Book, VII, 178, communicated by J. H. Dixon; "transcribed from a MS. copy in possession of an antiquarian friend," collated with a.
1 'O we were seven brave sisters,
Five of us died wi child,
And nane but you and I, Maisry,
So we'll gae maidens mild.'
2 'O had your tongue, now Lady Margaret,
Let a' your folly be;
I'll gar you keep your true promise
To the lad ayont the sea.'
3 'O there is neither lord nor knight
My love shall ever won,
Except it be Lord Darlington,
And here he winna come.'
4 But when the hour o twall was past,
And near the hour o one,
Lord Darlington came to the yetts,
Wi thirty knights and ten.
5 Then he has wedded Lady Margaret,
And brought her oer the sea,
And there was nane that lived on earth
Sae happy as was she.
6 But when nine months were come and gane
Strong travailling took she,
And nae physician in the land
Could ease her maladie.
7 'Where will I get a little wee boy,
Will won baith meat and fee,
That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,
Bring my mother to me?'
8 'O here am I, a little wee boy,
That will won meat and fee,
That will gae on to Seaton's yetts,
And bring your mother to thee.'
9 Then he is on to Seaton's yetts,
As fast as gang could he;
Says, Ye must come to Darlington,
Your daughter for to see.
10 But when she came to Darlington,
Where there was little pride,
The scobbs were in the lady's mouth,
The sharp sheer in her side.
11 Darlington stood on the stair,
And gart the gowd rings flee:
'My ha's and bowers and a' shall gae waste,
If my bonny love die for me.'
12 'O had your tongue, Lord Darlington,
Let a' your folly be;
I boor the bird within my sides,
I'll suffer her to die.
13 'But he that marries my daughter,
I think he is a fool;
If he marries her at Candlemas,
She'll be frae him ere Yule.
14 'I had seven ance in companie,
This night I go my lane;
And when I come to Clyde's water,
I wish that I may drown.'
A.
The copy of the garland here used is much more correct than the other two, but still not carefully printed. The garland gives the ballad in eight stanzas of eight verses.
11. so were sisters.
62. bower: perhaps we should read towers.
82. weight, which makes sense, but, taking rhyme into account, the change seems requisite: cf. 302.
152. came: come in the other copies.
162. swim.
191. of aik?
192. weary lake-wake? if so, also 132.
271. his eyes.
282. downfal.
301. finger.
302. weight.
311. of: veine.
B. a.
Stanzas 5-7 should come after 26, but the changes which have been traditionally made in 7, to adapt the passage to its actual position, render the restoration of the right order impracticable. 71 is not comforting.
22. An lords?
33. brooch is.
124. now to bird: cf. 194.
132. bent: so the other copy.
134. Ye.
142. clap nor cae': cf. 162.
151. come.
162. war (?).
171. al.
193. to my.
202. coped: caped?
21. After this these lines are struck out:
Nor yet do (to?) a well-ford made
Her errant for to set (let?).
221. Ga.
234. stack (?).
292. throught.
304. luve, in my copy.
The spelling is in several places doubtful.
b appears to be a transcript of a: the spelling is somewhat regulated.
33. broatch is.
62. in twa.
82. wun.
83. will rin.
83, 103. Little Snod Down.
93. of him.
124. bird her lane.
163. into.
183. broch is.
202. caped it.
211, 2. Gae wash.
221, 2, 3. Go, Go, Gae.
234. slack.
254. lear wanting.
263. scobs wanting.
304. live: rather.
C.
104. here: e added in different ink.
D.
14. maiden.
71. ringin.
91. that wd.
103. I hear.
E.
62. the win' originally: i seems to have been changed to u.
F. a.
131. But her.
b.
24. the lord.
32. my true love eer shall be.
34. And he winna come here to me.
51. It's he.
63. And neer a leech in a'.
72. That will win meat.
74. And bring your.
8. O out then spake the little foot-page,
And knelt on bended knee:
O here, etc.
82. will win both.
111. Lord Darlington.
123. side.
131. He that marries a daughter o mine.
132. I wot.
133. Candemas tide.
134. at Yule.
143. When I come to the salt water.