A
‘The Laird of Logie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 3 a, Abbotsford. Sent Scott September 11, 1802, by William Laidlaw; received by him from Mr Bartram of Biggar.
1
I will sing, if ye will harken,
An ye wad listen unto me;
I’ll tell ye of a merry passage
Of the wanton laird of Young Logie.
2
Young Logie’s laid in Edinborough chapel,
Carmichaell’s keeper of the key;
I heard a may lamenting sair,
All for the laird of Young Logie.
3
‘Lament, lament na, May Margret,
And o your weeping let me be;
For ye maun to the king your sell,
And ask the life of Young Logie.’
4
May Margaret has kilted her green cleeding,
And she’s currld back her yellow hair,
And she’s away to the king hersell,
And adieu to Scotland for ever mair!
5
When she came before the king,
She fell low down on her knee:
‘It’s what’s your will wi me, May Margret,
And what makes all this courtesey?’
‘Naething, naething, my sovreign liege,
But grant me the life of Young Logie.’
6
‘O no, O no, May Margret,
No, in sooth it maun na be;
For the morn, or I taste meat or drink,
Hee hanged shall Young Logie be.’
7
She has stolen the king’s reeding-comb,
But an the queen her wedding-knife,
And she has sent it to Carmichaell,
To cause Young Logie come by life.
8
She sent him a purse of the red gold,
Another of the white money,
And sent him a pistol into each hand,
And bade him shoot when he got fra.
9
When he came to the Tolbooth stair,
There he loot his volley flee,
Which made the king in his chamber start,
Even in the chamber where he lay.
10
‘Gae out, gae out, my merrie men,
And gar Carmichael come speake wi me,
For I’ll lay my life the pledge of that,
That yon’s the volley of Young Logie.’
11
When Carmichael came before the king,
He fell low down on his knee;
The very first word that the king spake,
‘How dois the laird o Young Logie?’
12
Carmichael turnd him round about,
A wait the salt tear blint his eye:
‘There came a tacken frae the king
Has tean the laird awa frae me.’
13
‘Hast thou playd me that, Carmichael?
Hast thou playd me that?’ quo he;
‘The morn the Justice Court’s to stand,
And Logie’s place ye maun supply.’
14
Carmichal’s awa to May Margr[e]t’s bower,
Een as fast as he may dree:
‘It’s if Young Logie be within,
Tell him to come speak to me.’
15
May Margret’s turnd her round about,
A wait a loud laughter gae she:
‘The egg is cheeped and the bird is flown,
And seek ye the laird of Young Logie.’
16
The one is sheppd at the pier o Leith,
The other at the Queen’s Ferry,
And she has gotten a father to her bairn,
The wanton laird of Young [Logie].
42. yer for her.
64. Yea for Hee. Hie in Laidlaw’s transcript. Taking into account the apparent yer for her in 42, it looks as if hea, her were intended.
84. free?
122. blint may be blent.
453. B. ‘The Winsome Laird of Young Logie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 137 a, “sung by Lady A. Lindsay,” closely resembles Herd’s version, but in one passage approaches C, and Young Logie displaces Ochiltrie. This copy will be treated as B b.
b.
11. O wanting.
12. To the tale I tell.
18. How the.
14. The winsom laird of Young Logie.
21. Whan the queen did hear the same.
28. Alas for poor Lady Margaret.
32, 82. as wanting.
34. Or never kend.
41. Fye, oh no, said: that maunna be wanting.
42. Fy, O no, thus (partly altered to this).
43. find out some cunning way.
44. To loose and let Young Logie free.
Between 52 and 53:
The king he’s risen and taen her up,
Says, What means a’ this curtesy. (As 53,4.)
When you took me to be your queen,
You promisd me favours twa or three. (As 61,2.)[[152]]
53,4:
The first ane that I ask of yow
Is to loose and let Young Logie free. (As 63,4.)
61. O wanting: of me.
62. would hae granted.
64, 74. Winna save.
71. queen than she came.
72. And she came down.
83–4:
I wish that I had neer been born,
Or never kend Young Logie’s name. (As in 3.)
91. Fye, oh no, said.
92. Fye, O no, this maun ne.
93. I ‘ll find out some other.
94. To save the life o.
101. she triped.
111. She gae to.
113. And twa.
114. And bade him shoot as he gaed by.
121. And wanting.
123. O peace: our gudely.
131. O wanting.
141. Gae bring to.
142. Gae bring them.
143. Before the: by ten.
144. they each ane.
15. Wanting.
161. Fye, O no, said.
162. Fye, O no, this maun ne.
163. hang at a’.
171. Lady Marg took shiping.
172. Young Logie at.
178. the lass: her lad. Tune of Logan Water.
183. Willie Macintosh.
P. 456. The account in ‘The History of the Feuds’ is taken from Sir Robert Gordon’s History of Sutherland, p. 217.
Jamieson, writing to Scott, in November, 1804, says: “I have heard a scrap of the rude ballad on the burning of Achindoun, ‘Bonny Willie Mackintosh—You’ve tint a feather frae your cap—By the day dawing,’ etc., or something of this kind, from the Revd John Grant of Elgin. The Duchess of Gordon applied to him about it some years ago, but he could never recover it.” (Letters addressed to Sir W. Scott, I, No 117, Abbotsford.)
186. Kinmont Willie.
P. 470 b, at the end of the first paragraph. Strike out 1639. Spottiswood’s account begins at the same page, 413, in the edition of 1655.
188. Archie o Cawfield.
P. 484. B b was first printed in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, I, 195.
The following is the copy from which Scott derived the stanzas introduced into this later edition of the ballad. It will be observed that ‘luve of Teviotdale’ is the reading of 42, and not a correction of Scott’s, as suggested at 486 b.
‘Archie o Ca’field, Variations,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 90, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of John Leyden.
1
The one unto the other did say,
‘Blythe and merry how can we be,
When the night is billie Archie’s lyke-wake,
The morn the day that he maun die?’
2
‘An ye wad be blythe an ye wad be sad,
What better wad billie Archie be,
Unless I had thirty men to mysell,
And a’ to ride in our companie?
3
‘Ten to had the horses’ heads,
And other ten to walk alee,
And ten to break up the strang prisoun
Where billie Archie he does lie.’
4
Up bespak him mettled John Hall,
The luve o Teviotdale ay was he;
‘An I had eleven men to mysell,
It’s ay the twalt man I wad be.’
5
Up bespak him coarse Ca’field,
I wat and little gude worth was he;
‘Thirty men is few enow,
And a’ to ride in our cumpanie.’
6
Then a’ the night thae twal men rade,
And ay untill they were a’ wearie,
Till they came to the strang prisoun
Where billie Archie he did lie.
7
‘Sleeps thou, wakes thou, billie?’ he said,
‘Or did ye hear whan I did cry?
The night it is your lyke-wake night,
The morn it is your day to die.’
8
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘Work ye within and I without,
And soon a loose man shall you be.’
9
Dickie pu’d the prisoner on o his back,
And down the stair cam merrilie;
‘Now by my sooth,’ quo mettled John Hall,
‘Ye may let a leg o him lean to me.’
10
‘I have my billie upon my back,
I count him lighter than a flee;
Gin I were at my little black mare,
At Ca’field soon I trust to be.’
11
Then a’ the night these twelve men rade,
And aye untill they were a’ wearie,
Untill they came to the wan water,
And it was gawn like ony see.
12
‘There lives a smith on the water-side,
Sae has he done thirty years and three:
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
13
‘O I have a crown in my pocket,
And I’ll give it every groat to thee
. . . . . . .
Gin thou shoe my little black mare for me.’
14
‘The night is mirk, and vera pit-mirk,
And wi candle-light I canna weel see;
The night it is mirk, and vera pit-mirk,
And there’ll never a nail ca right for me.’
15
‘Shame fa you and your trade baith,
Canna beet a gude fallow by your mysterie!
But lees me on thee, my little black mare,
Thou’s worth thy weight o gowd to me.’
16
Then thay lay down to take a sleep,
But ay’ on fit stood noble Dickie,
And he’s looked oer his left shoulder,
And a’ to see what he could see.
17
‘Get up, get up, ye drowsy sleepers!
Ye dinna see what I do see;
For yonder comes the land-lieutenant,
Two hunder men in his cumpanie.
18
‘This night an they lay hands on us,
This night, as I think weel it will be,
This night sall be our lyke-wake night,
The morn like as mony dogs we’ll die.’
19
‘My mare is young, and vera young,
And in o the weel she will drown me;’
‘But ye’ll take mine, and I’ll take thine,
And soon thro the water we sall be.’
20
Then up bespak him coarse Ca’field,
I wate and little gude worth was he;
‘We had better lose ane than lose a’ the lave,
We’ll leave the prisoner, we’ll gae free.’
21
‘Shame fa you and your lands baith,
Wad ye een your lands to your born billie?
But hey! bear up, my little black mare,
And yet thro the water we sall be.’
* * * * * *
22
‘Come thro, come thro now,’ Dickie he said,
‘Come thro, come thro and drink wi me;
There’s no be a Saturday in a’ the year
But changed sall your garments be.
* * * * * *
23
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
While a bit o your iron hads thegether,
Barefit sall she never be.’
121. Var. other side o the water.
12, 13 are written as one stanza.